I AM...

I AM PRIMED FOR SUMMER...

2010-06-11T16:32:00.000-07:00

The WORLD CUP is upon us (GO U.S.A.), the NBA FINALS are underway (Go Celtics), I play in a weekly basketball game with my friends, the weather has been fantastic, and I have a bachelor party quickly approaching a few weeks from now in VEGAS. In light of all the fun events that stand before me, I figured I better get back on track and talk about a few more things that PISS ME OFF.

1.) LAKERS FANS. Maybe it's because you don't have a pro football team here and there's so much focus on the storied franchise with the ugliest uniforms in the history of sports. Donning that Purple and Gold must be painful. Or perhaps it's the fact that Jack Nicholson (a native of my home state) sits courtside like a traitor and cheers for Kobe Bryant as if he were his son. It really sucks that Jack is so cool and Kobe is a beast. Truthfully, that stuff doesn't bother me as much as the God Damned flags sticking out of every car window in the city. It might be acceptable if all the ghetto whips were rocking them, but every fucking LEXUS, BENZ, and Hummer in LA has at least one. When I see one I want to rip it out, wipe my backside with it, throw it in a bonfire and piss all over it. If the KNICKS didn't suck so much, I would be talking more shit... Too bad they suck.

2.) PLAYING BASKETBALL WITH GROWN ASS MEN. I HATE it. If you play pickup games or in a league, you know what I'm talking about. If not, bare with me, I'll explain. It all starts during childhood. When you're a kid, and other kids complain and act like pussies on the basketball court, it's understandable. You think they'll grow up, be tough and stop calling brush fouls. The funny thing is... That never happens. Once a sissy, always a sissy. Quit your bitching and play ball.

I also can't stand when people think they're great and try to do more than they're capable of. Play within yourself pal. You're not that good. If you were, you would've gone to DUKE, and I'd be watching you in the NBA FINALS instead of playing in a league with you at Beverly Hills High School.

3.) PEOPLE WHO CONSTANTLY SUNBATHE. Jesus, don't you know the sun is not that good for you? Yes, in small doses it's healthy, but laying out every day and being over-exposed to the sun can lead to skin cancer. Haven't you heard? Or is that just a theory, like EVOLUTION? I think it's about time we start trusting scientists. If you're going to be defiant and stay out in the sun all day every day, you better throw some SPF 50 on or you're going to wind up looking like MAGDA from "THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY". That's not good, trust me. Nobody wants to fondle a reptile... Unless you live in Florida where the leather skin look is in.

4.) THE MEDICAL MARIJUANA SHOPS IN CALIFORNIA. Look, I don't have a problem with smoking weed, but if they're going to make that shit legal just do it already. I've had enough of these phony doctors standing in the streets with their 420 signs, ready to hand out a prescription to anyone with Bunyons or a lazy eye. These fucking chop shops open up on every street corner like 7ELEVENs and a week later they're gone. Then two weeks after that another one pops up in the same space. I guess they're getting chased off, but how the fuck does a new one open up in the same spot 10 days later? Give me a break. Either leave the Cheech and Chong fans alone or don't let them open up in the first place. Hey government, make up your mind already!

I have a question for all the burnouts out there... Does making weed more accessible take away from the allure? I thought the idea of scoring some chronic was only fun when it was illegal. Maybe if it goes legal, less people will be stoked about eating Funyuns and Cheetos at 3am. But what the hell do I know?

5.) CLOSING THE DOOR AFTER YOU GO #2. I will never comprehend this behavior. What's the fucking point of taking a shit and locking your stink in a 4x6 hot box (especially when there aren't any windows)? That's right, NONE. And you know what's even worse? When somebody drops anchor, and over-sprays the room with Febreeze or a disinfectant that smells like a retirement home. You and I both know this is not circumventing the situation.

What cracks me up here, is women do this more often than men. I know you're embarrassed that you made a smelly, but nobody gives a shit (literally). We all know you ladies go #2, but I ask you pretty please, do not make it worse by trapping your foulness in a small room and masking it with some disgusting spray (that goes for dudes too).

I have a little story with this one. Last Thanksgiving, my roommate and I hosted a dinner for about 12 people. A girlfriend of a buddy of ours asked to use the bathroom after dinner and somebody was in the main one. So my roomie politely showed her to the bathroom in his bedroom. She vanished for about 15 minutes and suddenly reappeared. She looked like she'd just robbed a bank. Her face was riddled with guilt. It's not like we didn't know she was making a doody, and as I pointed out earlier, nobody cared. About a minute later, everyone's eyes started tearing. Then we couldn't breathe. This powerful scent was coming from my roomie's bedroom. It was unbearable, but it didn't smell like POO. My roomie hustled in there, opened the bathroom door and immediately realized it was TEA TREE OIL. He saw the empty bottle in the trash. If you don't know what it smells like, take a whiff... It's extremely overwhelming. It's used to kill fungus and alleviate pain in cuts and burns (you're only supposed to use a drop). He then whispered to me, "Do you think she knocked over the bottle?" "Don't know" I said. He then started laughing hysterically. It took me a second, but I eventually got it. She took a dumpsky and thought it smelled bad... So she went rummaging through his things to find something to cover the stench. She stumbled upon the tea tree oil and thought it was a deodorizer. She used the entire bottle, shut the door and scurried out. Nobody said anything to her, but I wish I would have... It would have been hilarious, but we didn't want to embarrass her and we were too busy fighting for air while crying.

Have a great weekend kids!!!

I AM TERRIFIED OF...

2010-05-23T18:02:00.000-07:00

One day walking into my closet to find out my favorite sweatpants and hooded sweatshirts have moved on to greener pastures. The thought of them not being there keeps me up at night. I don't have kids. I don't have a dog. I have comfortable house clothes and I care for them with all my heart. And the best part is they don't need to be fed, nor do they talk back. They're just awesome. If you're anything like me, you love lounging around in your sweats. After a long day of work, I can't wait to get home, throw my clothes in the hamper and suit up in my in-house UNIFORM (Jets hoodie, Nike sweatpants and slippers).

A great pair of SWEATS are hard to come by. Over the years, I've had so many pairs of sweatpants, especially with all the sports I played. We got a new pair every year for football, in both High School and College. Man, they were comfy. So that means I should have 8 pairs, right? I'm no Mathematician, but that sounds correct. Well guess what... Not even close. I have 2. One from HS and one from college. Unbelievable.

The last remaining HS pair WAS great, but the waistband has since worn out, so they hang off my skinny ass. Speaking of asses, there's a huge hole in the ass of those pants. I have no idea where it came from. And the College pair is now GINORMOUS (cause I used to be 35 pounds heavier) and they have oil stains all over them. A few years back, I bought some oil to refill my engine and didn't use it all. Like an idiot, I threw the opened container into my trunk right next to my sweats, so I can't exactly wear them in public. They look like they've been floating in the Gulf Of Mexico for the last month.

Now HOODIES are a different story. First off they're EXPENSIVE, so when I get a free one I'm pumped. I got one in High School for a State Championship and it was a bit small. I looked like a creepy hipster in it, so I gave it to a friend. He now parades around New York City donning my famed hoodie claiming he went to my school and played on that championship team. My college hoodie still hangs in my closet, but is mostly used for working out. Second, the actual HOOD has to be perfect size in order for me to fall in love. This may sound crazy, but all hoods are different. It needs to be just oversized, so my obscenely large DOME can fit in it and if I want to sleep with the hood on, I can... without choking myself to death. Well, beggars can't be choosers... The truth is a Hoodie is kind of like pizza... Even when it's bad... it's good.

For some people it's a flannel shirt and a nice pair of pajama pants. That's not for me, but I get it. To each his own.

What I don't get is why it's frowned upon to leave your house in anything but nice clothes. Celebrities are constantly getting bashed for their fashion sense at the supermarket. I'm not a Mariah Carey fan, but who gives a flying fuck if she's wearing a butt ugly neon green valor jumpsuit at Target? I know I don't. I know they're celebrities and we hold them to such a high standard since they're in the spotlight, but should they have to be dressed for a Red Carpet event while at RALPH'S picking up baby wipes and toothpaste? I don't think so. I say wear whatever the hell you want... And let's leave these mother fuckers alone. They're people too.

Comfort is key. If you're comfortable; you're good to go. Now, I'm not saying if your sweatpants have an enormous hole in the ass, you're 175lbs overweight, and wearing a belly shirt you should leave your living room... Cause you shouldn't. But if you are rocking a sweet pair of sweats and a hoodie while at CVS to buy condoms (even if you're a extra on Hannah Montana), I ain't mad at you.

If I could go everywhere in my slippers I would, but then I couldn't get into my bed with them... And I would be mistaken for a homeless man, again. Yes, it's happened before, and I'm sure it'll happen again. If I were famous, I would most certainly be the guy getting bashed for his sense of style at the grocery store... And I wouldn't give a shit. I'm all about the sweats baby.

So looking back I wonder where all those sweatpants went. I know my football sweats from HS were robbed by various girlfriends over the years. And there's no doubt about it, my hoodies shared the same fate. Women love to steal men's comfortable knocking around clothes. What's up with that? If I let you rock one of my HOODIES, it doesn't mean you can take off and never return it. That duty will be for my wife, because I know where she lives. Broads are dancing around their living rooms right now in my HOODIES and SWEATS all over the country wondering where the hell they got them. Pisses me off. No respect. Stay the hell out of my closet!!!

I AM WONDERING...

2010-05-07T17:38:00.000-07:00

about the actors who participate in commercials for prescription drugs and weight loss products. They must be getting PAID. Bigtime. Well, obviously, but notice how you never see any SUPERSTARS doing promos for VALTREX or that HPV shot for women to prevent Genital Warts. Imagine Kate Hudson doing an ad for Herpes medication... If she did, I bet she wouldn't be getting banged by any NEW YORK YANKEES.

Poor Sally Field. She's the biggest actor I can think of involved in this bullshit. She is the spokeswoman for BONIVA. It's a prescription medication used for osteoporosis treatment in post menopausal women. Boniva helps reverse bone loss. I guess it's not bullshit after all. I find myself feeling bad for her. I think, "Man, she was so hot in Smokey and the Bandit". Then I wonder if she even has the disease. She better, because if she's out there lying that would be a motherfucker. No seriously, she's doing a good thing spreading the word about prevention and detection of the disease, but make no mistake about it, she is making BANK off of her demise. And she was still smoking hot as Forrest Gump's mom, I just wish she would have drank more milk in her youth.

What about Jason Alexander? I know you're from New Jersey, so I'm a fan, but what's going on with these Jenny Craig ads? He's definitely making a pretty penny. Was he even fat? I didn't think so. Yeah, he was a little chunky, but George Costanza isn't supposed to be skinny. If he starts looking like Al Roker, I'm going to shoot myself in the face.

Jenny Craig isn't the only one... I see a lot of my favorite football players doing the Weight Watchers commercials. 20 pounds for 20 bucks... or some shit like that. Give me a break. You and I both know that shit costs way more than that. And Dan Marino was NEVER dumpy, yet he's in the ads. That guy is a maniac. It would be impossible for him to be fat. So what does this mean anyway? Will football fans follow in his footsteps by eating non salted pretzels all day? Will they start taking wheat grass shots while tailgating in the parking lot? Dolphins fans maybe, but the rest of us... I doubt it.

You know what I'd really like to see... Some celebrity whore or gigolo telling the world they have an STD. That would take BALLS. I bet that would get everyone's attention. I mean, as a collective society we hang on every word a celebrity says, so why shouldn't they step out. And by stepping out, I don't just mean out of the homosexual closet (which is also good), but the STD closet needs to open up, too. I know it's embarrassing, but it will help a lot of people out. Imagine Angelina Jolie telling the world she got herpes from banging Billy Bob Thornton without a rubber in the back of a limo... It would be ground-breaking... And awesome. I bet you people would use condoms more often. I can see some silly college broad in Middle America right now telling her friend, "I mean, like, if Angelina can get it... We better be careful... Does that mean Brad is tainted too?"

One of my favorite commercials out there right now is for VIAGRA. It's the one with a middle aged man with ED (Erectile Dysfunction). Go figure. This guy is walking down the street and his reflection in a window says to him, "So, heading to the doctor?" "Uh, yeah" the man answers. "You gonna ask him this time" the reflection continues. Man: "About what?" Reflection: "Our Erectile Dysfunction." Man: "SHHH! NO, I don't want to talk about it. Reflection: "Look, you're not alone. Millions of men with ED have talked to their doctors." Man: "I don't know." Reflection: "We can do this." Man: "Okay." Then he walks into the doctor's office and obviously tells him about his noodle. And the best part... On the way out he HI-Fives his reflection in the window. I lose it every time. HILARIOUS. I know if that was me, I'd be home in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror naked yelling at my JOHNSON to perform... "You're a fucking soldier!!! Stand at attention!!! NOW!!!"

I would kill to see Clint Eastwood doing an ad like this one. I would die. For the record, I hope this is NEVER a problem I have to deal with. According to my DAD, I never will. He says, "HA! You have nothing to worry about, son. The Men in our family are STRONG LIKE BULL!!!"

I AM THE KIND OF GUY...

2010-04-30T14:21:00.000-07:00

Who notices all the faults of people... Especially a potential lady friend. Sometimes they're great, and any other normal human being would see them for who they really are, but not me. Shit, I'm far (not that far) from perfect, but I like who am and I love to adhere to MY specific rule book. It's definitely not fair to pick a lady (or dude) apart before you even get to know them, but life's not fair.

The rules I live by have most certainly limited my vision. I can't see past a THIRD nipple. I don't understand people who don't read. I can't get past the fact a girl smokes. If she has a kid, it scares the shit out of me because the last thing I want to do is shoplift the POOTY from a baby's mama. Or how about a girl that has dated one of my friends in the past? They're definitely off limits. Who wants to double dip after one of my friends anyway? And rich girls kill me too. For some reason I don't have anything in common with a girl who has been proudly throwing around a BLACK AMEX CARD since she was 8. Maybe it's because my Capital One card has a $500.00 limit.

I'm at an age when these things matter. Getting older is a bitch. These situations never bothered me before. In High School and College, you found a little lady, made whoopie for a while and moved on. I rarely gave a shit who she slept with, or how many prison sentences she served. Every so often, I found one I really liked and dated her for as long as possible. It usually took at least 8 months before I realized she had 6 toes on her left foot, walked with a limp, snorted coke in the laundry room on Tuesdays, and drank like she was preparing to play Amy Winehouse in Biopic. Now, I notice that shit in 30 seconds.

One time, I dated a girl who laughed at everything I said. I know I'm funny, but nobody's that funny. She disappeared quicker than Chris Brown's career. He did have that one great song... "It's like a waited my whole life, for this one night..." Sorry. Love that track.

Another time, I dated a girl who used to stare at me while I slept... Like all the time. Are you serious? Listen, I'm not that good looking and when I wake up and you're in my face all I can think of is Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction" and where did I put the Hammer again? I'm not interested in dating someone that might murder me while I'm counting sheep. At least have the common decency to attack me while I'm watching American Idol.

Sometimes AGE gets in the way. Out here in Hollywood, it's not frowned upon to date someone much older or younger than you. Look at Hugh Hefner for Christ's sake... That dude has 21 year old SPINNERS grabbing at his old junk at the drop of a hat. And how about this kid from "KICK-ASS" (great movie by the way)... He knocked up a producer 24 years older than him. It cracks me up. What do these people have to talk about? Him: "Hey, you like the Beatles?" Her: "Yes I do." No shit SHERLOCK, everybody likes the Beatles. Cut to 5 years, 4 divorces, 3 kids, 2 STDs, and 1 dog later... Still have anything to talk about? Yeah, bills and ALIMONY. Fuck that.

I find it especially difficult to converse with people way younger than me. 21 year old girls are on a different plane of existence than me. They want frat boys, money, nice cars and feigned confidence, not male pattern baldness and 1994 Infiniti. And older women want you to be their boy-toy. That's fine for a little while, but nothing long term is going to come to fruition.

5 years. That's my limit. If a girl is five years older or younger; we're still in the same generation. I don't have to worry about her 8-track player breaking and her eggs drying up or talking in that acronym language I'll never comprehend. It's taking over the planet. For example... "OMG, it wuz gr8 2 C U yesterday!" Holy Shit! She spelled yesterday correctly! It's like pulling teeth. Speak English you lazy mother fuckers.

And this whole TWITTER thing... People who are obsessed with Twitter drive me nuts. Who gives a fuck? Twitter sucks. That's right, I said it. Everyone I know is telling me I have to update my Twitter account. They say it will give me a bigger audience. I say people will only read the Twat or Tweet or whatever the fuck it's called. Who knows... Maybe my blog sucks. You may be right, but I'll tell you who loves it... My MOM. And she's rarely wrong about anything... Just ask my old man.

What's with this obsession of following your favorite celebrities on Twitter? You don't know those mother fuckers, so why are you worried about what they're doing at that exact moment? You should probably worry about what you're doing right now... Probably wasting your life pretending to be someone you're not. Who gives a shit where Kim Kardashian is shopping right now? Who the HELL is that girl anyway? Why did she have a show? A career? All I know is she's the girl who gets broken off by REGGIE BUSH. Great job pal, cause she's kind of hot.

Sometimes things don't work out the way you planned. Maybe age just IS a NUMBER. I guess people can be much more than the 47 CAMELS they smoke a day. Maybe that third nipple is an erogenous zone just waiting to be explored. Perhaps she's staring at you because she loves you. Maybe you are that funny. Maybe she reads while she's on the toilet and you just don't know it. Maybe she dated one of your friends to get closer to you. Creepy, but possible. I hope you're not like ME. Don't be that kind of guy or gal. You should be willing and able to modify your rule book and give people a chance.

Happy Friday Jerks! I have a big weekend before me. I'm heading over to GOLF-N-STUFF tomorrow to meet up with Elisabeth Shue and if I see that Cobra Kai pussy Johnny Lawrence, I'm going to stuff his head in the fucking POP-A-SHOT!

I AM IRKED WHEN...

2010-04-28T13:34:00.000-07:00

1.) I walk into the bank and one of those account mangers is standing by the teller line asking everyone in creation if they have a straight deposit so they can do it for them. Don't you think if they had a straight deposit they would go to the ATM? Just because nobody is opening any new accounts due to the fact we're all broke and you're fucking BORED doesn't make it right. I know you're trying to be helpful, but BEAT IT NERD.

2.) People are riding bikes and talking on their Cell Phones. You have got to be kidding me. I want to throw a stick between your spokes anyway because you're fucking up traffic, but now I just want to cut you off and watch you go flying into oncoming traffic.

3.) People carry cameras everywhere. I get it. You're a PHOTOGRAPHER (sorry Derek, I love ya buddy) or a TOURIST... same thing. Do you need to document the time you stepped in SHIT on LaBrea? I'm pretty sure you'll remember it without the photo when your using a plastic fork to scrape the doo-doo off your shoe. That rhymed. Maybe I'm jealous because I don't have any pictures and the only camera I've ever had was a disposable.

4.) Creditors call me for other people. Who the fuck gave you the right to give my name and number out? Not cool. When they call me, I unleash the wrath of God on the operator. I make them feel like they should jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, followed by me smashing my phone on the ground. If I have to answer your deadbeat calls, you have to buy me a new phone and pay for my therapy sessions. I know that's not possible cause you're being hunted by a collection agency. It's not my fault you don't pay your bills... Leave me out of it. This makes me so angry I want to defriend you on FACEBOOK.

5.) Men or Women have a ridiculous amount of holes in their jeans. Every once in a while it's okay. For example... on Halloween, Slut night, at a gay bar, a construction site, or church... Those are the only exceptions. If you look like you just ran through a sticker bush or were taking shrapnel on the beach at Normandy and you're in a restaurant... You're an asshole.

6.) The WASHING MACHINE or DRYER (one of those assholes) eats one of my socks. Where did that little mother fucker go? I know he was in there when I started the wash. I'm not sure why socks hate me. My feet don't stink. Did he hate me that much he jumped behind the dryer? Probably. And he knows I'm too Damn lazy to maneuver around the dryer to get anything. (And yes, socks are men because no woman would be caught dead near your feet.) Even if I dropped a pair of Erin Andrews' panties back there, I'd have to chalk them up... No way I'm going back there.

7a.) A dude's fly is down and nobody tells him. What kind of society is this that we're willing to let a fellow man walk around while his BIRD is about to ESCAPE FROM ALCATRAZ? Let a brother know for Christ's sake.

7b.) Someone unknowingly has a gigantic whitehead on their face. I know I've said you're not supposed to touch your face, but when there is just one and it looks like a moon crater filled with cream cheese, it's time to make a move. I'm definitely going to tell you take care of it and I expect you to do the same for me. So go wash your hands, pop that shit, wash your hands again and you can come back without having to worry about me regurgitating my burger onto your plate.

8.) My boss gives me more keys for work. I already look like a JANITOR from Iselin Middle School. I have more keys on my keychain than a locksmith. Do they have a lot of keys? Who knows. I mean how many keys do we need? One for the car, one for the trunk, the front door, the back door, the gate, the upper lock, the bottom lock, the stock room, the back office, this case, that case, the key to your heart... Jesus. I can't walk around without it looking like I have an army of G.I. JOES in my pocket. I make so much noise when I walk that everywhere I go people think I'm there to fix the toilet... It's a travesty.

9.) I need work done in my mouth and the Dentist charges me 1,000,000 dollars. I know I'm an indentured servant without Dental Insurance, but there's got to be a discount you can give me. That shit is expensive. How about I don't break your fucking nose and hit you in the kneecap with a sledge hammer and you fill my cavity for $20? Sound good? Yeah, I thought so. Where's the mob when you need them? Boy, I miss New Jersey.

10.) My family refuses to fly. It's 2010 guys. Planes are safe. Fact. Yes, they suck when you're in the cattle car, but it's only for a few hours. And if that MASHER SULLY can land a plane in the Hudson River, I think you should feel safe... cause I do. I know I made the decision to move WEST, but you crackers can come visit me too, you know? Don't worry Ma, you're excluded and I'm coming to visit soon.

I AM A WINE TOUR ENTHUSIAST...

2010-04-16T16:37:00.000-07:00

I never really considered taking a wine tour until I saw the film "Sideways". I thought it looked like fun if you could get a nice group together or if you wanted to take your significant other on a romantic weekend. I've wanted to do it ever since; I just never got around to it.

My friends are getting married... To each other. One boy, one girl. Very Traditional. Obviously an engagement party was necessary ASAP! One of my friends took the initiative to rent a LIMO BUS last Saturday, which would take us on a WINE TOUR north of Santa Barbara. At first I thought, "This will be fun, but I'm definitely going to have a headache on Sunday." I'm not much of a wine drinker... Well not on a level where I can drink it all day, but I do like to have an occasional glass while cooking or dining. Then it occurred to me, "34 people on one bus, drinking?" This was either going to be my worst nightmare or the BEST TIME EVER. Either way, I was pumped.

I was excited to learn about the origins of the wines and how they care for the grapes. The whole wine making process intrigued me. That, and the dance party that was sure to break out on this mobile nightclub. A small group of us were already hanging out in my kitchen having Bloody Marys and Mimosas by 8:30AM Saturday morning... Not me, I was drinking Ginger Ale like a sissy.

So this bus, inappropriately named HERCULES, pulls up in front of my house at 8:50AM. It's fully equipped with a monster sound system, 3 fully stocked bars, a 52 inch HDTV, and 34 raging twenty and thirty-somethings . When I stepped onto this blasphemous automobile, it was loud. People were eating, drinking and being merry like that Dave Matthews song. I knew immediately this day was going to be INSANE.

Moments later, I shoved a bagel down my throat to get a layer of carbs into my belly in order to absorb the alcohol (more carbs) I was about to consume. I kicked off the day with a few MIMOSAS. Then I followed up with a few cups of SANGRIA. Before I knew it, I was jamming on my AIR GUITAR to songs that didn't require one. This was only 20 minutes into the trip.

About 10 seconds after my VAN HALEN-like solo, the bus overheated for the first time. That's right kids, it overheated more than once. Apparently we were too heavy. I couldn't believe it. It wasn't like we were the KLUMPS or anything... There were just a bunch of skinny yuppies and creative types partying like rockstars. It was only 9:30, and people were already swinging from the rafters. It was awesome. Nobody had a care in the world. Everyone stayed positive, even though JERKULES couldn't handle us.

After a few minutes of partying by the side of the road (and by partying I'm referring to drinking and going #1 behind every bush in sight), HERCULES got her second wind. We hopped back on and off we plunged into oblivion.

Upon our arrival at the first tasting, we were feeling great. Everyone was on top of the world. The only bad thing was the bathroom on the bus. It smelled like a garbage dump on STATEN ISLAND, so we couldn't wait to get off, but even that couldn't get us down.

The first stop was in a quaint little town with various wineries lining the streets. All we did was walk in, line up at the counter, grab a glass, and taste every bottle in the house. Occasionally we would get an explanation, but I'm pretty sure most of us weren't listening. So much for the history lesson I was excited about.

Cut to five hours later... We were at our last stop having lunch in a vineyard. The refuel was necessary... For party goers and Hercules who overheated again. We had our final tasting ahead of us. The guy came out and we were cutting him off every chance we got to give toasts to the future bride and groom. Some of us were out back where they kept the barrels and mixed the wine. One of my friends even climbed into a large wine vat for a picture. Of course another friend locked him in. It was hilarious. This guy doing the explaining hated us and eventually gave up, but nobody cared.

The ride back was intense. Some people were KNOCKED OUT. I don't know how because the music was super loud and AMAZING. Some people were dancing on poles (I won't mention any names). Some people were first basing (again, no names). We needed more alcohol. We stopped at a gas station and picked up enough beer to stock SHEA STADIUM. And again... Everyone peed illegally and got back on the bus.

An hour or so later we arrived in Santa Monica. The bus pulled over at an Irish Pub on WILSHIRE. Everyone was deciding whether or not to continue this night of tomfoolery... And it wasn't even night yet. It was probably 6:30PM. Sure enough, 98% of us went into the bar. The funny thing was, we left anything we couldn't carry in (coolers, bags, food, wine glasses, cases of beer, jackets, shades) either on the bus or in the parking lot and continued the night which ended hours later at a KARAOKE bar a few blocks away. I'm pretty sure 3 or 4 dudes in our group sang "We Belong" by Pat Benatar. One of whom had his shirt off. Great night.

So do I recommend taking a wine tour with a large group of friends? Yes. Do I recommend you rent HERCULES? Yes. Should you bring your AIR GUITAR? YUP! There's nothing better than hitting the wine country with 34 of your closest friends. We made it through the day with no casualties, a ton of memorable moments, and hundreds of great pictures. I would do it every weekend if I could. If I wasn't a wine tour enthusiast before, I most certainly am now.

Congratulations go out to MIKE and TRICIA!!! That was the best (and only) engagement party I've ever attended. I love you guys!

I AM A JACK OF ALL TRADES...

2010-04-15T14:05:00.000-07:00

At least that's what I tell myself. I've worked in many fields. Here's a list of my many professions... Stripper, Male Escort, Streetwalker, Professional Thumb Wrestler, KY Jelly Wrestler, Arm Wrestler, Center for the Knicks, Safety for the JETS, Logger, and Stunt double for Jean-Claude Van Damme. I know, I'm impressive... Stop oooing and aaahhhing. Obviously I've never done any of those things, with the exception of KY Wrestler and Male escort. Just kidding. Well, maybe not... If I'm not careful over the next year; I may wind up on the street hooking so I can grab myself an Egg McMuffin.

During summers while in while in High School, I worked as granite counter top installer and a tile layer. While in college, I worked in many bars as a server, barback, and a bouncer (eat shit, I'm intimidating). I also volunteered at a senior citizens home on an activities council. And after that I worked at a hospital in the cardiac rehab department. There, I developed a proper exercise program for patients recovering from heart disease.

After graduation, I took my teaching degree home to take a job as a full time substitute. It was an easy choice because I was next in line for a full time teaching position in the Health Department. That, and my brother worked there as a History and P.E. teacher. He was also the head football coach and I wanted to coach with him.

Sometimes during the day when our classrooms were across the hall from one another we would pass notes back and forth like 5th graders. I'd send a kid with a note saying, "Run this across the hall to my brother, it's important." Inside the note it would read, "You're a dipshit." That lasted about 2 years and I loved it.

At the end of my illustrious teaching career I started writing again. My friend and I decided to move to LA with hopes of working in entertainment. When I arrived, I needed a job asap cause my bank account had less money than what was stashed in my piggy bank in 1st grade. It took me two days to find one. I got a job working for a landscape architect. We built decks, playgrounds, a trellis or two filled with flowers and planted wonderful landscapes all over Southern California. It was nice to work outside for a change. I held this gig for a year.

Afterward, I moved to Santa Barbara and helped my roommate pen a short film. Soon enough we shot it. He directed, I starred. We edited it together with the help of another good friend who was also involved in the writing process. Once we had a product we were proud of, we submitted it to a few film festivals. It was out first project, so we didn't expect anything, but to our surprise, it was accepted into three International Festivals right away. We toured around with it for a little while, pretending we were the next big thing. Really we were losers, but hey... Fake it til you make it.

During that time I got a gig as a handler for a Hip Hop Group performing at Sundance. My roommate's dad made a documentary about them and he asked me to come help out. It was a blast. Little did I know, a year later I would be hired on the project as an assistant and eventually become a producer.

Next, I got a job working for these GAZILLIONAIRES as a handyman. They paid me nicely to come to their house everyday and fix anything I could find a problem with. There was plenty to keep me busy all day, but I preferred bullshitting with the Butler. That's right, they had a butler. I wish I had my own Alfred. The house was huge. It was like The Getty... A gigantic structure filled with art and also a lot of other shit. It was so big it had a gift wrapping room, which was bigger than my bedroom. The room was filled with everything you see in a aisle at CVS during the Holidays. It was heaven. This job lasted 4 months.

Following my "Tim the Tool Man" stint, I got a job working retail at a designer vinyl toy shop and gallery. And a few months later I left for New York to work on the previously mentioned Documentary. I was there for 6 months. When I came back, I picked up right where I left off at the toy shop. I still work there today. That was almost 4 years ago. Now I work there in a different capacity... Online and store manager. Nothing fancy. Just a job folks. A brother has to eat.

During my 4 years here, I've worked on numerous other projects. I've done many short films and 2 features. I audition when I can, but definitely need to get more involved. I'm on it.

The other day a friend of mine called asking if I knew anyone who could help him with some sound work on a TV show. My roommate couldn't do it, so I said "no." Ten seconds after he hung up I thought, "Fuck me, I'll do it. I need the money." I called him back and said, "What about me?" He said, "Okay."

I'd never worked with sound before, but I did know those guys are usually characters on SET. He hired me to be the BOOM OPERATOR for a popular show on USA. If you don't know what a Boom Operator does, he/she is the one closest to the actors. They hold a long, adjustable graphite stick with a microphone on the end of it over the actors heads (just out of frame) to pick up their conversations. It may sound silly, but it's important. Obviously I'd rather be in front of the camera, but I figured it would be good to get another perspective. Well that and working on a set is too much fun to pass up.

We show up at the stage and who's the first person I see? Tiffani Amber Thiessen. Yup... Kelly Capowski... In the flesh. I began having flashbacks of my childhood. Watching "SAVED BY THE BELL" everyday after school was my religion. And on Saturday Mornings I wouldn't leave the house until I had my Kelly fix. Man that chick was hot. I thought I would marry her years later on a cruise to Hawaii. Did I mention she is still hot? Well she is. I also missed the God Damn boat on marrying her, cause she was 8 months pregnant and married. Damn. She's still hot though and cool as hell. She was maybe the coolest actress I've encountered. She was always in good spirits and extremely friendly to the crew. If you know anything about movies or TV, you know there's nothing more important that a pleasant actor on SET. When they suck, the whole set sucks. And Capowski was flat out awesome.

My buddy and I had a blast on Set. We dicked around in between setups and had a solid manhang, but while we were working we were focused. There's a time to work and time to play and on a set there's time for both. It's the hurry up and wait game... During the wait... It's great talking into the microphone from across the set and just cracking on people. All you do is laugh in between takes and everybody around you wants to know what's so funny. Later when he was filling out the sound reports, which we forgot to do after the first two scenes, I watched him do so carefully. One of the producers was furious we didn't do it the first time, so his concern was warranted. I sat down next to him and noticed where he filled in the title of the show he wrote... "BLUE COLLAR" on all the cards. I go, "Dude, what the fuck are you doing? The show is called "WHITE COLLAR" you fucking idiot!" He had to fill them all out again. We laughed for 20 minutes straight. I guess you had to be there.

My point is... Working in any capacity in the field of your liking can be beneficial and fun. It will give you a greater respect for the hard working people who make much less than you might. It takes a village to make a film or TV show work. So respect the CREW! GOOOOO BAYSIDE!!!

I AM A YEAR OLD...

2010-03-31T23:35:00.000-07:00

One year ago today, I unleashed my unoriginal thoughts upon the world of BLOGGING. I figured I'd write 5, maybe 10 entries in this thingamajig and give it up, but as you all know, I was wrong. Looking back, I can't believe I had that much to say, but anyone who knows me well, knows I'm rarely without words to share.

It's been an interesting year. I can't say I've made much progress professionally, but I sure have learned a great deal about myself as a human being. Here are a few lessons I've learned and relearned...

1.) ALWAYS go with your FIRST INSTINCT. If you feel like someone is a jackass from the moment you meet them; you're probably right. So humor them for a bit, laugh at their unfunny jokes, let them poke fun at you, sarcastically compliment their hipster jacket and don't be a jerkoff... This will allow you to go on your merry way with a smile knowing you didn't let someone you'll never see again get under your skin. Sometimes it pays dividends when you bite your fucking tongue.

2.) Never LEAD people on. Even if you're doing it subconsciously, it doesn't make it right. It's always best not to get involved in a situation you know that will escalate to something you can't or don't want to handle. Be honest from the get-go. It may seem harsh and fucked up, but you'll feel much better about it later. People will always find reasons to dislike you, don't give them any more.

3.) Continue to WORK HARD. PURSUE. PURSUE. PURSUE. No matter what it is you want in this life, no matter how old you are, you CANNOT expect handouts. They are few and far between and most of the people who receive them are undeserving. So don't worry about them, focus on YOU. One needs to work diligently to reach a goal. You must sacrifice if you want success. It's okay to be selfish every once in a while.

4.) LUCK is a word for the WEAK. We make our own luck, our own breaks. Yeah, bad shit happens to the best of us, but we're not measured by how many times we fall down. It's how many times we're willing to get back up and what we're willing to do once we're standing.

5.) YOU HAVE TO CAPITALIZE ON YOUR OPPORTUNITIES. Good opportunities are rare, so we must take advantage of every one. If you have an audition or a job interview, and you haven't had one in months, you MUST be prepared. When someone goes out on a limb for you and an opportunity presents itself, it's up to you to make the most of it. You have no one to blame but yourself.

6.) Don't be so HARD on yourself. If you're like me; YOU are your harshest critic. It's okay to analyze your moves, but don't over-analyze. If you've made a mistake, learn from it and move on. Otherwise you'll wind up like one of those people in the DEPRESSION commercials. "Who does depression effect?" Everyone." If you're smart about this one, you can say, "NOT ME" when the commercial comes on.

7.) Good friends are rare. I've had the privilege of having many friends along the way. Most people say they can count their true friends on one hand. I like to believe I'd need a few more hands than that. Hold on to your friends. Be there for them... Cause in times of need they will always be there for you.

8.) Everyone is JEALOUS of something. Even if you're not the jealous type (like me), there will always be someone who has more than you do. Someone who has a job you want. A car you want. The type of girl you wish you had. A bank account you envy. The truth is, none of that shit matters. It's not worth being envious of anyone else. Take a step back... look at your life... You probably have it pretty damn good and someone is most likely envious of you. And remember, even when you're down, somebody always, and I MEAN ALWAYS, has it worse... way worse.

9.) You have nothing to be ASHAMED of... Unless of course you're a flasher, murderer, a pederast, or a Sarah Palin supporting Republican... If you want to listen to BETTE MIDLER in your car and belt out the chorus at the top of your lungs, by all means sing away... "Cause you are the wind beneath my wings." Just don't crash into anyone while singing and texting. That shit's dangerous.

10.) You must be willing to HUMILIATE yourself. To make it in this world (especially in showbiz), you have to be willing to completely humiliate yourself. Every once in a blue moon you need to make an ass out of yourself just to prove you're human. It's okay, we all do it on occasion, but don't do it all the time. It doesn't mean you have to change who you truly are. Be you, no matter what. You'll get along just fine that way. There's nothing worse than a phony.

Well... Happy Anniversary to ME!!! I hope you've enjoyed this as much as I have. Have a wonderful April and hopefully I can keep this little thing going.

I AM A MURDERER...

2010-03-25T14:31:00.000-07:00

of the AUTOMOBILE. The CAR Kevorkian... so to speak. Do they come to me to surrender? Do they know their time is up? I know my recent car nightmare wasn't my fault, but I'm beginning to think heavy machinery should steer clear of me. After the incident, I got a new (OLD) car. It had been in the family for years and it's one of those foreign cars that lasts forever... like 500,000 miles forever. I was excited about reuniting with the old girl knowing how well my father cares for his and my mother's cars. I thought, for once, even with the bad luck I'd experienced a few months ago, change was on the horizon. And once again, I thought WRONG.

On Tuesday, I went to visit a friend who lives 30 miles away. I drove down peacefully, listening to tunes, breathing in the SMOG-FILLED air, and smiling at the traffic headed in the opposite direction. Shortly after I arrived, we decided to have lunch a short drive away. As soon as I turned the key, something felt wrong. I pulled off and she began to rattle (the car, not my friend). The steering wheel was locking up. I didn't panic (does weeping count), but damn, can't a brother catch a break?

I decided not to worry about it until I got home, although it was quite embarrassing. I dropped my friend off after lunch and by now the car sounded a little better, but the wheel was still as tight as the fades the white boys rock in Baltimore. I figured I needed some power steering fluid... Yeah, that was it... "I'll just top it off when I get home" I said to myself.

I hit the road. I'm not going to lie, I was nervous. Not first day of school nervous... More like RUSSIAN ROULETTE nervous. My terrible record with cars over the years wasn't setting my mind at ease. Most people I know can count how many cars they've had on one hand. Not me. I need about fifty hands and a few feet. I've had more cars than Tiger Woods has had HOLE in ONES with waitresses from TGI FRIDAYS. Let's take a quick look at my vehicle history....

1998... My first car. I was working at a Granite company installing counter tops and tiling floors. The company had a 1997 RED DODGE NEON. It was the errand car and somehow it became mine. One day I asked to borrow it for the weekend and next thing I know it was with me all the time. My uncle and his partner (business, not life) owned the joint and they were the ones who let me me borrow/have it. I drove it for over a year. At the end of our relationship, I brought the car to a party in North Jersey and I scraped the shit out of NEON DEON (my pet name for her) on the side of my buddy Will's house and that was it. My mom said enough... "Give her back!" So I did.

1999... My parents decide to help me buy a car. I put my funds together and started to look around. I found a 1996 FOR BRONCO. This car was money. She was shiny and white. Pefect condition. Leather interior. Nice stereo system. She drove like a charm. No longer than two months later, the alarm started going off and wouldn't stop. Then, the car wouldn't start. Electrical failure. Apparently, the car had been in a flood and was salvaged. Those mother fuckers at the dealership were lying ass dogs. So we brought OJ's old whip back, told them first to go fist themselves, then to give us our money back.

1999... I'm not even sure if we owned this one. I remember driving her around for a week.. or so. It was a 1984 Blue VOLVO. She ran on diesel fuel and sounded like a fucking 18 wheeler, but she was nice. Not sure where she ended up. My dad probably sold her for parts.

1999... The 2000 HYUNDAI ELANTRA. She was never really mine, I drove her for many months. She was a little girl, but she ran well. She was black, with lackluster interior. It was like driving a micro-machine compared to the Bronco, but I didn't care; I'm a little man. I had her on and off for the next two years, whenever my dad didn't need her.

2000... My Mom decided it was finally time for me to have a new car. She wanted to have a JEEP in the family, for trips and such. So we leased a 2000 JEEP CHEROKEE SPORT. It was pine green. I loved it. Truth is, I felt cool as hell in my own new SUV. We had this one for a couple of years, but in the long run she turned out to be too expensive... So we gave her back.

2001... I was driving the exact same car that I'm driving today, the 1994 INFINITI G20t. There's a great story behind her as she was the first new car my mother ever had, but I'll tell that one another time. I'm pretty sure I only had her for a few months and it's unclear as to why I had to give her back to my mom. This is what I remember... I was hooking up with a certain girl in college. She and I had some disagreements, and the next morning I walked out to my car only to find her KEYED. It looked like the culprit was writing something along the lines of D-I- and half of a C. You do the math. Somebody must have seen this criminal because they didn't finish their pleasant inscription.. Needless to say, Mom wanted her car back.

2001... When my Mom bought the other HYUNDAI, she bought a more luxurious (as luxurious as Hyundai could get) model for herself. It was a 2000 HYUNDAI SONATA. She was also as black as the ace of spades and not a bad looking car. I didn't have her for long, but I appreciated her CD player and leather seats. She had some brake problems and when I sent her back to get fixed, she never returned and somehow she became my brother's.

2002... My father found a good deal from a guy in the neighborhood on a 1987 MERCURY GRAND MARQUIS. This car was AWESOME. She was white, plush interior and white wall tires. Pimp. This car looked like something Frank Sinatra would drive. Well Frank didn't own it before, but a Priest did. The car was obviously blessed. I had her for about 8 smooth months when she started to have some problems. My dad told me to add some fluids here and there before I made the drive home for the Holiday. So I added the fluids and hit the road knowing I definitely put the fluids in the wrong places. About an hour into the trip, my HOLY MOBILE blew up in my face while I was going 80mph on the Highway. It was five degrees outside, I was in the redneck part of Maryland and my car was on FIRE just off Route 95. Furious. I waited on the side of the road 4 hours until my my brother came to pick me up. By the time he got there my face was as stiff as Heidi Montag's. (I loathe her and her bottom-feeding husband by the way.)

2002... Another deal from a friend of my old man. He found me a 1986 OLDSMOBILE. She was blue and drove like a cherry at first. One morning during my senior year, I was on my way back to Jersey to coach a football game and the transmission blew. Luckily I wasn't on the highway yet, but I was still 5 miles away from my house. I had to stick my head outside of the window like ACE VENTURA and drive that bitch home BACKWARDS. People were freaking out as I cruised by... in reverse. That was the end of her.

2003-Jan 2005... This time I had an ugly, gray and rusty 1989 PONTIAC BONNEVILLE. This baby lasted me for about 2 years. I had her until about 4 days before I moved WEST. Despite her decrepit exterior, she drove great. I never had any problems with her until one day my dad called and said, "My friend's daughter is driving up from North Carolina to sell her 1999 Volvo and I thought it would be good for you to drive to California." I was pumped. Dad was really looking out. About a week before I left, I was supposed to go see the car at this guy's house, but there was a problem. The night before, his son had jumped out of a moving car and died immediately... Drugs were involved. So the sister wound up flying north to be with the family. Selling the car wasn't first on their docket. I understood. His son was 28 years old.

The next day my friend (who I moved out here with) came to Jersey and we started planning our trip. We figured, fuck it, we'll take the BONNEVILLE. Once our plans were straight, we drove to the movies to see "THE AVIATOR". On the way back... THE CAR DIED. It was like the car knew I was settling for her. Stubborn bitch. I guess it wasn't meant to be. That night we bought plane tickets and wound up flying out to Cali three days later with two bags each.

2005-2006... THE 1993 MAZDA PROTEGE. She was ugly as sin. A weird shade of green, almost turquoise. Now this one was a STICK SHIFT. I am not a believer in Stick. I know "real men" say you're not driving unless it's manual, but you know what I say to that... Fuck you. Driving stick is silly. Why would you shift gears if you don't have to? This isn't the INDY 500, it's the fucking 405. Gimme a break and stop overcompensating for your shortcomings.

I learned to drive this piece of shit on the 101 from Santa Barbara to LA during RUSH HOUR. This was no easy task. By the time I parked her at the house where I was staying, I had sweated through two shirts like CHUNK from "Goonies" and had at least 4 anxiety attacks due to making traffic worse (cause I hate people that do that). It was the worst. I think I drove her 15 times total. Eventually I drove the car back up to SB and gave her to my roommates. They shared it and drove me around once I moved up to SB. She blew up sometime in 2006 while I wasn't around, but I'm sure my magic touch had something to do with it.

2006-2009... THE 1976 FORD MUSTANG II. She was totaled by a moron on the street. Not my fault. I'm still fucking pissed. That's all I have to say about that.

2010... Back to the 1994 INFINITI G20t. So I get off the freeway and the wheel is really sticking now. The rattling gets louder. I'm at a light one block from my house, when the car starts smoking like Jackie Gleason. Then a loud RUMBLE. More smoke. I think George Burns was in there too. I parked her in the street, got out and plopped down on the grass like a dying dog. Then I started laughing. What the hell else can you do?

Yesterday I took her to a mechanic around the way and of course... A bunch of money needed to be dumped into it. What choice did I have? She had to be fixed.

I need a NEW CAR... Like an ACTUAL brand new car. I'm going to start saving. I can't afford to keep fixing these old babes. I just can't take this shit anymore. I'm an adult. I'm employed. I have insurance. I have credit cards. Why do I keep messing around with old cars? Probably avoiding payments... Definitely. I've had 12 cars in 12 years of driving. That's sick. I need to be put away. Someone take me out to the pasture and shoot me. I hate killing things... especially cars. I guess it's a good thing it's not against the law to hurt your own vehicle, because I would be in THE SLAMMER... for LIFE.

Thanks for the help, Dad. Love you. Sorry for driving so many of your loved ones into the ground.

I AM SITTING...

2010-03-22T15:16:00.000-07:00

in a school meeting during my FRESHMAN year of High School staring at the ceiling, ignoring daily announcements when I first heard it. "Click!" "Clip!" "Snap!" I cased the room in search of a culprit. Nothing. Nobody else was even flinching. I thought I'd finally lost my grip on reality. For a second I imagined the RICE CRISPIES characters sitting behind me jumping around, but of course they weren't. Then I heard it again. "Snap!" That's when I noticed a rather large, suspicious, white-bearded HUMAN at the end of my row. I suspected the sound was coming from his direction. I watched him closely. I noticed him focusing on his hands as the HEADMASTER continued to speak. I turned away, then... "SNIP!" "Crack!' I quickly snapped my head back at the Santa Claus look alike and the sonofabitch was clipping his fingernails!

I bursted out with laughter. I laughed so hard I almost had a coronary. The kid to my left elbowed me in the gut and said, "Dude, what are you doing?" While continuing to chuckle I pointed down the row and replied, "That WILDMAN is clipping his fingernails." The kid didn't even sneak a peek (what a sissy)... he just gave me "the nod" to look forward. Slowly I realized everyone in the room was staring at me, including the Headmaster and Fred Claus' brother. Some nerve.

The Headmaster glared at me with a look I'll never forget, and then in front of the entire student body he said, "Is there something you'd like to add, Mr. Richerson?" To which I promptly replied, "No sir." I couldn't believe it. How was nobody else laughing? Was this normal? I'm at one of the most prestigious boarding schools in the country and one of the faculty members is clipping his nails in PUBLIC! And I thought I was moving up a social class by going here... Guess not. What the fuck was going on! Nobody said a word. Important announcements are happening and human nail shrapnel is flying all over the place. It was a war zone! You've got to be kidding me. I wondered, "Can this dude really get away with that?" And the answer is... YES.

Through the grapevine I heard Mr. Holmes (Kris Kringle) had been cutting his TALONS during school meetings for years. And since he'd been at the school for 30 years, everybody was afraid to say anything. This included the Headmaster who had only been there for about 10 years.

Mr. Holmes was one of the ON DUTY study hall monitors in my dorm, so I made it my personal project to know everything there was to know about this guy before I dropped the big question. I started by chatting with him for a few minutes every night he was around. Everyone else thought I talked with him to get out of doing homework (that was part of it), but I truly wanted to know what made the MADMAN tick.

Mr. Holmes was a big man. He stood 6'5 and I'm guessing he weighed in roughly around 290. I wasn't afraid of him. I wanted to get to know him... key in on his madness. How was he so well respected that people were willing to shrug off the fact he was clipping his nails directly onto their heads?

Through our conversations I learned he fought in a war. I can't recall which one, but it was probably the Revolutionary War. He also played professional football for the GREEN BAY PACKERS in the 50's. He was an avid sports fan and a staple in the art department at my school. He was also a CERAMICS teacher. I was floored when he told me. This big maniac threw pots all day? Yup. And he was awesome at it. Did I mention he laughed a lot? Well he did... And at a decibel level that would frighten a T-Rex.

I got into trouble later that year and was sentenced to Weekend Work Detail during the winter term. Coincidentally, my job was to shovel the entire Holmes residence, including the driveway, both front and back walkways, porches, and the flat part of the roof just above the porch. Good thing we were hit with 27 inches of snow on Friday. Shit. He laughed at me while I furiously shoveled his 1970's model VOLVO out of a snow drift. I wanted to Karate chop him in his beard. Finally, he offered me a cup of hot cocoa and we chatted for a bit on the porch. He told me about the fierce winters of Green Bay and how hard the playing surface was. "It was like playing on the TURNPIKE, HAHAHAHA!!!" he cackled. I stared at him in awe. He was nuts, but kind of likable.

Sophomore year I took ceramics. I thought since I was in with Holmes, I'd cruise to an easy A. I thought wrong. Turns out, I'm the WORST potter on the planet. Clay and I are not friends. I was worse than Demi Moore in "Ghost" and I didn't even have Patrick Swayze breathing down my neck. I received a C for my masterful work in the class and was not happy about it. I tried hard as shit though, ceramics just wasn't my thing. When Mr. Holmes handed me my grade during the final week of class, he laughed yet again, and I wanted to yell out, "Go clip your nails ya fucking jerk!"

By the time Senior year came around, Mr. Holmes and I were quite friendly. He was at every one of my football and basketball games. He always made comments like, "The game's changed quite a bit since my day, HAHAHAHA!!!" I would just laugh along with the jolly old fellow. Funny thing is... I never saw the guy around Christmas time. I used to imagine him up at the North Pole making toys for all the good boys and girls, laughing away... Or maybe he just hibernated for the month of December.

A few weeks before I graduated, I was sitting in another school meeting and I heard it again. That noise I had heard so many times during High School. "Clip!" I turned around just to make sure and there was Holmes sitting in the same spot clipping away at his nails... Scaring the shit out of the Freshman class. I shook my head and smiled. I was ready. Immediately following the meeting, I marched right up to him and said, "Hey Mr. Holmes, how come you clip your nails during school meeting and not at home?" He stopped in his tracks and looked down at me with the DEVIL in his eyes. This was obviously not a familiar question. Without answering he walked on. I caught up to him and continued, "Isn't it weird how nobody says anything to you?" He stopped again and just looked at me like I impregnated his Great Granddaughter. I went on, "It's kind of crazy, right?" Then he leaned over me continuing to stare at me with this serious scowl and said, "CRAZY, HAHAHAHAHA!!!" And he kept on walking... Laughing at me along the way. I just stood there like I'd been hit by a MACK TRUCK. That mystery will never be solved.

Ten years later I often find myself sitting in my living room clipping my nails in front of the TV. Although I do it with some tact by keeping a mini trash can beneath me to catch the clippings and I pick up the rest by hand, my roommate still complains. And when he does, I unleash this diabolical laughter into the air. I guess that's just me channelling Mr. Holmes. Every time I cut my nails for the rest of my life, I will think of that WILDMAN. I bet he's clipping his nails right now at a STARBUCKS... laughing like a mad scientist. And I bet my bottom dollar... Not a soul in sight says a word to him. Keep clipping Mr. Holmes.

I AM IRISH...

2010-03-17T16:33:00.001-07:00

And today is ST. PATTY's day. Ah, what to do, what to do? How about work? Yeah, that's what I'm doing. Perhaps I should call my Mom and talk about her favorite Holiday! Just kidding... She's Italian, my POPS is Irish, so I think she'll pass on the corned beef and cabbage.

Everybody keeps asking me if I'm wearing GREEN. No FRIEND-O, I'm not wearing green, but my eyeballs do everyday. No, I don't wear eye-shadow, my eyes are just GREEN-ISH. I think there may be a little green on my boxers though. Let me check. Bingo. So much for separating myself from the masses.

I can't stand when a fun Holiday falls in the middle of the week, especially when you don't have off from work. In the STATES, St. Patrick's Day is about as important as the NHL finals. Nobody really cares. It's like Chinese New Year's up in here... If you know what I mean. No land mass was discovered on this day. No life-changing event occurred either. Really, it's just a day when Catholics are allowed to take a break during LENT. For all you HEATHENS out there... this means you can eat meat if you gave that up, get shitfaced if you gave up alcohol, or get laid if you gave up sex (sounds crazy, but Catholics can be that way). Ever heard of the Crusades?

Every year on the 17th of March, everyone wants to celebrate by doing the kegs and eggs thing in the morning, drink GREEN beer, and pin the tail on some IRISH DAME they met at some bar around NOON. By the time they try to take this unlucky lady home at 8pm, she's completely blacked out... What's the point? And how the hell are you meeting people out on the town at NOON? Isn't it Wednesday? Doesn't anybody work anymore? Fuck. I need your job.

A little history behind St. Patrick's Day... Saint Patrick was a man (obviously) who was kidnapped by Irish Raiders at 16 and held captive to Ireland as a slave. One night while sleeping, he believed GOD came to him in a dream. And what he said was, "Yo Patty, you have to get the fuck out of here and head for the coast. Return to Britain ASAP!" So of course he escaped... And as soon as he got home, he studied to be a priest. Go figure.

Later in 432, he was called back to Ireland as a bishop. (For those of you non-Catholics, a bishop is step or so up from being a priest. Basically he got a promotion) The Irish who once captured him, now needed his help. Again, God spoke to him... "Go save those poor bastards!" Man, The HOLY SPIRIT talked to this guy a lot. He must have been REALLY popular. So Patty left for Ireland to save the country from poverty, famine, and of course... other religions. He used the SHAMROCK in his teachings, saying it symbolized the HOLY TRINITY (the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit). It didn't take much for those poor drunk maniacs to believe.

After spreading the word of the Almighty for 30 years; Patrick died on March 17th, 461. He gave the Irish people love, peace within, hope, and a great holiday to get wasted on for ALL TIME.

What began as a purely CATHOLIC holiday has now become more of a celebration of Ireland's culture. Now EVERYFUCKINGBODY celebrates this day. Every schmuck on MELROSE is sporting green today. The MUSLIMS next door, the people we pigeon-holed as terrorists down the block, the cool INDIAN dudes in 7ELEVEN (well maybe that's just because their uniforms are green everyday?), Asians (who hate being called that by the way), regular Jews and Hasidic Jews, too. well maybe not the HASID'S, but I bet they want to, cause it's ridiculously hot and the black get-up they rock has to be uncomfortable as HELL. And who wants to wear the same thing everyday? Weird.

So... What a day. A GREEN day. It's another excuse for everyone on the planet to party. Gotta love it. Embrace it. Thanks, Patrick. I just wish the day you croaked would have fallen on a Saturday this year.

Have fun out there tonight you phony Irish jokers. Don't drink and drive. Don't text and drive. Don't make out and drive (unless she's really HOT). What I'm getting at here is... take a GOD DAMN cab! You kids can first base just fine in the back.

I AM PROUD...

2010-03-09T12:50:00.000-08:00

To be an AMERICAN most days. Well, not proud enough to belt out the song baring the same name, but proud nonetheless. I enjoy the freedoms we have in this country. You can pretty much get anything you want if you can afford it. You can dine on exotic foods, sip fine wines, buy all the flat screen TVs you desire, and almost say whatever the hell you want without having your privates chopped off in a public arena. Personally I can't afford to do or buy all the things I'd like, but I get by. Someday I'll be able to spoil myself a little... I hope.

Our country is rich with history. Some good, some bad. We fought for our freedom during the American Revolution demanding the rights our new nation's people deserved. Abraham Lincoln abolished slavery in 1865. The long winded Woman's Suffrage Movement came to an end on August 20th 1920 and women were granted the right to VOTE. Dr. Martin Luther King marched for Civil Rights in the 50's and 60's and eventually won those long deserved rights in 1964. I'm not sure why it took so long for some of these issues to pass, but better late than never I guess. On December 7th 1941, Pearl Harbor was bombed by the Japanese. During the Civil Rights Movement people were hosed down and beaten by police. On September 11th 2001 the World Trade Center was brought to rubble during a terrorist attack. Another plane hit the Pentagon and another crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. As a result of these attacks on 9/11/2001, 2,973 American lives were lost. In August of 2005, Hurricane KATRINA demolished the great city of New Orleans and 1,836 people died and it took days and weeks for the proper help to arrive. Why some of these things happened, I'll never know... but I can take a guess... Mother Nature. Money. Greed. Power.

I was raised CATHOLIC in a MIDDLE CLASS and LIBERAL family. My father was a UNION worker. He drove a truck for well over 30 years, probably 40. He was an officer of the Teamsters Union with Local 478. I still remember some of the Teamsters getting together at my house to discuss sanitary working conditions, wages, and fighting for the respect they deserved. Those men worked ridiculously hard to stay afloat. They refused to allow their lack of education or where they came from hold them back. All they wanted was to keep a decent roof over their heads and food on the table for their families.

The Middle Class used to make up a great deal of our country. Unions kept people paid and paid decently. Then wealthy people took over. We elected a few puppets for Presidents and the Middle Class was fading. So many people lost their jobs in the 80's and why you ask? So BANKS could profit. Cut jobs, profits increase, stocks stay up. Move plants to different countries, cheaper labor, more product, stocks stay up. It was really sad. I don't even know what's made in this country anymore. I know a few American Apparel T-shirts I have are, but I'm sure the hat on my head was made in Taiwan, the car I drive in Japan, and the slippers on my feet were definitely made in India.

So what happened to the Middle Class? I'll tell you... It's almost nonexistent. Assholes like RONALD REAGAN destroyed the Unions (who were made up of a major percentage of the Middle Class) and forced millions of jobs to disappear right before our eyes. As a result, people were encouraged to live on this fictional currency called CREDIT. This set up up Americans to be in DEBT for LIFE. Who profited on this encouragement? BANKS. And who Runs the banks? RICH PEOPLE. Who ran the rich people? The government? Nope. The government, the banks, and the rich folks were all one in the same... Since at the time the government was made up of Bankers from Goldman Sachs, the rich people were running IT. Ronald Reagan took direction much better as a President (too bad it was from the wrong fucking people). He was a shitty actor... and an even worse PRESIDENT. Great job deconstructing the class of people that made this country what it is, douchebag.

Today people are struggling more than ever. I realize there are problems in other countries and I do believe we should send aid immediately, but we need to get our priorities straight and take care of our own. Every other person you meet is without HEALTHCARE. Every third person you meet is out of work (and I'm not talking about actors). What the fuck is going on?

We need to open our eyes people. Those earning in the top 1% of our country are running this place. The government has kept the wealthy at their side so they can get even richer. It's sickening. Back in the day (1940's or so) the wealthiest people in our nation were taxed at a much greater rate than those in the middle class. Now those same dickheads making all that money have arranged it so everyone is taxed almost equally. It's not fair. I know life isn't fair, but come the fuck on. Should we watch our own people die because they can't afford healthcare? Should we just stand by while people we know and love get pushed out of their homes? I think not.

I don't consider myself an avid follower of politics, but I often find a way into heated discussions about some topics. One of my best friends comes from a similar background as I do, yet we have completely different political views. He's a Wall Street guy; I'm a Main Street guy. This confuses me, since we both come from Main Street. I just don't understand the REPUBLICAN way of thinking. How can you be educated and NOT LIBERAL? How can you not believe in Gay Marriage? How can you not believe in a woman's right to choose? How can you not believe in tax breaks for the middle and lower classes? How can you not believe laborers have a right to form unions to protect themselves? I don't get it. Are you like one of those assholes that didn't believe in Civil Rights? Should women not be allowed to vote? You may be thinking I sound stupid, but if you disagree with me you're bred from the same cloth as the haters that came before you. It saddens me to know many of the people I love have opposing views.

Most families of wealth dislike unions (which are predominantly made up of laborers). These are the people who fix your cars, teach your children, build your houses, fly our planes, and more oft than not are the men and women fighting YOUR WARS. How can we not pay them sufficiently? And somehow we pay the people who handle rich people's money and other's who hand out bullshit loans to those that can't really afford to pay them back so much more. Are they more important? No. They're actually less important. The rich want to overwork people and pay them shit to make their products. It's ludicrous. This isn't some 3rd world country. This is our home. We need to take care of the people that inhabit this great land. We need to treat them like human beings, not rats. People that work hard for a living deserve the right to an education, a safe home, healthcare, and sufficient food to eat no matter what class you come from.

We're supposed to be living in a prosperous land built upon equal opportunity. This couldn't be further from the truth. Remember a little thing called THE CONSTITUTION? It's "WE THE PEOPLE of the United States, in order to form a more perfect UNION..." not "We the Rich People of the US, in order to destroy the Unions..."

If you start from the bottom, it's very hard to climb, but it is possible. That's what's great about this country. It's really hard though. Now if you come from a wealthy family; it's a cake walk to success. It's unsettling. The people are supposed to be running this country, not banks and big businesses. I'm disgusted when I think about GREED standing in the forefront. We're veering in the wrong direction. Being greedy doesn't make you happy. It doesn't mean you're motivated. It means you're an asshole. So go ahead and work hard. Make all the money you can. Get a respectable job. One that allows you to sleep well at night. Don't take advantage of other human beings. Don't thrive on someone else's misfortune. Provide for your family and don't be a scumbag. You may be doing really well, but that doesn't mean you need 12 cars, 20 TVs, a $30,000 purse and $2,000 shoes. If you have earned the right to afford these luxuries, think about giving back. Give back to your community. Realize you're privileged enough to make a difference... And make a difference in somebody else's life, not just your own. Be selfless, not selfish. And make sure you think twice when you're voting. Make sure you think about the people who are protecting your freedoms (firemen, police officers, soldiers) because they're the people we're fucking over.

I love this country. I love the beautiful people in it. I love its diversity. I love the freedom. I'd hate to see it destroyed to make a profit at the expense of its people. We have a new idealistic Sheriff in town and he has some stack of papers on his desk. In the past year and change he's probably gotten through about 3 pages, but let's hope he gets it done... And remembers the people that built the house he's living in. To change... and having a country to be proud of.

I AM COMING TO TERMS...

2010-02-22T15:01:00.001-08:00

With the fact that one day, I will be BALD. This is harsh reality to face. Isn't it bad enough that hair turns gray? Balding can be tricky. It creeps up on you... Excuse me, creeps away from you. One day in High School your forehead is just a few inches above your eyebrows, a few months later you have a Widow's Peak like Count Chocula, before you know it you look like Larry David, and finally Mahatma GANDHI. Bald as the day you spontaneously combusted into this world. Such a shame. What's even worse is when baldness hits you from the back, in what I call the REVERSE YARMULKE. This is when your hair recedes from back to front, giving you that dreadful bald spot making you look like you've been at a Bar Mitzvah every day since you were 12. Now that is way scarier than walking around with a Tyra Banks-like forehead.

I get it. It's not cool to lose your hair; it just happens. I'm not exactly delighted that the only brush in my future is one for my teeth, but what can I do? This is nature's way of letting some men know how small they really are. You think you're a pretty boy? How does BALDNESS SOUND? Boom! It's just another way to keep us grounded.

Now, the delusional behavior that follows a man with MPB (Male Pattern Baldness) is disturbing. Rugs, implants, Rogaine, and comb-overs... do you think we don't know? Donald Trump, for example, has the whole comb-it-forward thing going. It's ridiculous. You have to be shitting me, Trump. Don't get me wrong, he is THE MAN. He's wealthy, not as bad looking as he could be, and he can have any woman he wants... On the Planet... FACT. But let's be honest here Donnie, give it up man. Peel your cap already. I'm sure you'll look fine. Maybe he's trying to hide some gruesome scar he got back in the 80's when he was banging a cocktail waitress in one of his Casinos and he hit his head on a SLOT MACHINE. It's possible.

Look at Bruce Willis... He went bald and what did he do? He shaved his head. And the guy looks great. I have to tip my hat to the fellow New Jersey Native. He did it right. My dad did the same thing when he was a little over 50 and he still looks good. My Mom's not a fan of the baldy, but it looks better than the horseshoe that old men love to rock. Then again, I'd take the horseshoe over that fucking comb-over ANY DAY. The comb-over is flat out embarrassing.

I can't imagine looking at myself in the mirror and deciding how much gel to put in my SIDE hair so that it will look thick when I carefully place it over my shiny top. I would never do that, I say now, but let's hope it never comes to that. Gene Keady, the former PURDUE basketball coach, is the greatest example of rocking the COMB-OVER ever. Google him. It's absurd. Great coach. Great man. Even greater insecurity. You're 70-something years old! People understand. Let it go, Gene. If Rose could let go of Jack, you should do the same with your hair.

What about RUGS? Hair pieces are insane. Remember Maury from Goodfellas? He's the guy that wants Jimmy (DeNiro) to pay him back. He has that commercial for the Wig company where he jumps into the pool with his hair piece on. It's quite amusing. Watch it again. If you haven't seen Goodfellas, please make a fist with your right hand, lift your arm and punch yourself in the face as hard as you can... because you are an imbecile.

When a man wears a RUG, it's so blatantly obvious. Give me a fucking break. If any of my balding friends decide to wear a rug, I will most certainly put some Mach 3 Turbos in their stocking that year as a parting gift... cause our friendship will be over.

My brother has been shaving his head for about 10 years now. He loves it. It's HIS look. He thinks he's going bald, but he's not. We just have big foreheads, or 8-heads as I like to call them. He may go bald in the next 20 years, but we'll never know because he will continue to shave his head as long as he has the strength to glide that razor over his cranium. I'd bet my life on it.

When I was in college, I used to shave my head too. Bald. As the people in the bald community like to call it, BIC'ED. BIC'ING your head means you put a razor to your dome as you would when you shave your face or legs for the ladies out there. I Bic'ed my head for about 2 years. Then one day while running the razor over my head in the shower I thought, "FUCK, what if this shit doesn't grow back?" I knew I needed to hold onto my hair for as long as I could.

So what causes baldness? Some experts say it comes from a gene passed on by your mother's father. If that's true, thanks a lot GRAMPS. Others say it comes from stress and some say it happens if you wear hats too much. Well, I have a problem with this one. I like to wear hats. And maybe it's not helping my cause for keeping a full head of hair... That's just too bad, because hats happen to look good on me. And if balding is the result, that sucks, but so be it.

There are a lot of ballsy bald men out there. One of my favorites is Danny Devito. I love how he rocks the horseshoe with a ponytail. It's hilarious and awesome. You don't see him trying to comb-it-forward or over. He's given up, accepted his fate, and rocks what he has... more power to him for that. He's a masher. Larry David is another good example. He's made the most of his situation. He's got a skinny head, so maybe he can't shave it off cause he'll look like Beaker from the MUPPETS, minus the orange top. The curly horseshoe works for Mr. David. Honestly, he can do whatever he wants because I love the guy.

The time will come for me, when I have to decide whether to rock the horseshoe, get implants or a rug, use Rogaine, or shave it off. So many choices. I'm pretty sure I will BIC it, since I've done it before and that's how my brother and father roll. I used to worry about it, but I don't really anymore. If it's in the cards for me to be a bald eagle, I can deal with it. I've been holding on for quite some time now and let's knock on wood... I think I have a good 20 years left before I have to make that choice. That's good news because not everybody is so lucky, but when the time comes I'll be ready... Perhaps to head on down to MAURY'S WIGS... cause they... "Never come off!"

I AM DREAMING ABOUT...

2010-02-17T16:38:00.000-08:00

a great deal of weird shit lately. I've never understood how people don't remember their dreams because I've always been able to recall my own. Well sometimes I can't put the whole story together, but the pictures in my mind always come back. I have many repeat dreams, which I'll get to in a moment, but lately my mind's eye has been witnessing some strange incidents.

Two nights ago I was doing UNGODLY things to CHER in the bedroom at the Roosevelt Hotel. She was LOVING it. I remember feeling a tad uncomfortable for a moment, then I just went for it. Wait, not in REALITY... this was a dream (or a nightmare) you sick maniacs. It was quite the romp until I suddenly woke up. I looked left... right... I giggled a bit, grabbed the remote and turned on the telly... And what movie was on? "MASK" starring Eric Stoltz as a disfigured teenager named Rocky Dennis (Remsburg). Who plays his mother you ask? None other than the free spirited CHER! Do you believe in life after love? I do.

Now last night I was dozing off to the movie "SNATCH" (keep that in mind). I kept rolling over with my glasses still on my face, so I knew it was time to call it a night. I turned off the tube and immediately drifted off into wonderland. Suddenly my Boss, my old roommate's cousin and I were arguing over driving a caravan we just bought across the country. We were standing at the dead end of ALBEE LANE. Albee Lane is the street one of childhood friends grew up on. He wasn't in the dream but interestingly enough we were in front of his house.

After the argument died down, I decided to drive the shitty pickup truck with the caravan attached out west. The skies opened up. It began to pour. I waved goodbye, hurried into the car and turned the key. The car started. Phew. I hit the gas to make a u-turn at the dead end, but for some reason I was going too fast. Somehow I lost control, so I turned the wheel and the truck began to flip. I immediately did a WALTER-LIKE (Lebowski reference for you simpletons) roll out of the car and hit the ground safely. The caravan was flopping my way. Just before it landed on me... I rolled left and BOOM! It smashed to the ground. I jumped up, made my way through the wreckage and my boss and my old roomie's cousin were standing on the front lawn of my friend's house with the entire cast of SNATCH holding up their middle fingers in my direction. I smiled. Seconds later I was wiping drool from my favorite pillow. Crazy right?

So I figured in light of my ridiculous dreams I would give you all a top ten of my most frequent dreams.

10.) I'm surfing on an IRONING board with wheels down FORD AVENUE into oncoming traffic on ROUTE 1 all while laughing my ass off. Anyone who knows those streets knows that is no laughing matter.

9.) I'm being chased by FREDDY KREUGER on the runway of an airport. I run toward the hangar and hide behind the wheels of a plane when... BANG! I take a bullet in the shoulder. I have no idea who the hell shot me. I hit the ground writhing in pain and... Freddy is suddenly standing above me screeching his knives on the metal of the plane prepared to end my life. As he leans down to chop me into bits; I pull out a DIRTY HARRY-LIKE 44 Magnum and blast his fucking head off.

8.) I'm sitting in my childhood bedroom playing the LEGEND OF ZELDA on snow day... I can see particular levels that I loved conquering (6 and 8) and I always wake up before beating the game. In real life I used to kick that game's ass. I still love it.

7.) In this one, I'm in the middle of a college football game at Lehigh and I am performing like Deion Sanders. I'm a star. I'm crushing opponents, running back every interception for a touchdown and the crowd loves me. This is way better than I actually was.

6.) I'm building a deck with my father in the backyard of my childhood home. At the end of the day, the deck is completed, my old man thanks me for my services and heads inside. I stay outside until the middle of the night and then I lay on one of the rails we built staring at the stars listening to the sounds of nature... in peace.

5.) Flying. I dream I'm flying high above the city (none in particular). Floating on I take it all in... I begin to pick up a head of steam and I can't slow down. I see dark clouds up ahead. I start to get scared. More speed. Then as I'm about to head into the black clouds... I wake up.

4.) I'm 12 years old and about to kiss my girlfriend for the first time. We're standing right before the Jewish Cemetery I used to walk through to get home. I lean in... She does the same and... WE DON'T KNOCK TEETH! And it is glorious.

3.) The sex dream. Everyone has them. In mine, I'm always intimate with people I have shared special moments with in the past. Sometimes it's a girlfriend... Other times it's CHER... and the rest are people I wish I could have had more time with. In every case the dream always ends in a good way... if you know what I mean.

2.) I'm stepping off a CURB and just as I'm about to hit the ground... I wake up. This one's always quick. It usually occurs when I doze off... At school, at work... or watching the tube on Saturday afternoon.

1.) I'm in my childhood basement. It was my favorite place as a kid. I spent long hours down there boxing with my friends, playing hide and seek, tackle NERF football and Basketball, darts, pool and raiding the toy closet. In this particular dream I get to the bottom of the stairs and stop. I reach for the light switch and only half of the lights go on. They flicker. I see the toy closet in the distance cracked open. I try to step toward it, but I can't. I cannot move forward. I'm walking in place. And that fucking toy closet keeps getting further and further away. It's as if the other end of the basement is moving. Suddenly it looks hundreds of yards away. I walk faster and make no progress. I reach out for it, but it's too far away. The only sound I hear is the furnace behind my Dad's work room. All I want is a Damn toy. Then I stop trying to move forward and everything stops. Then... I wake up.

Happy Hump Day Kids! I'm going to work on getting CHER out of my dreams and into my car!

I AM IN 2ND GRADE...

2010-02-12T17:11:00.000-08:00

LAUREN was her name. Blonde hair was her game. I loved her with every ounce of my being and I was only 8. She was the one to end it all. As an adult I've never been much of a blonde aficionado, but as a little whipper snapper gold locks could bring me to my knees. Valentine's Day was on the horizon... Wait a second... Let's backtrack. A few years before on the day of my graduation from Pre-School (I was 4 or 5), I kissed KAREN. She smiled. Heaven. It was only on the cheek, but it was certainly life changing. I thought I could get a ring from a Gum-ball machine outside of the A&P for a quarter, ask her to be my wife, and then I would be set for LIFE. Well obviously it didn't work out the way I'd planned. We went to different elementary schools and I didn't see her again until 6th grade.

Back to 2nd grade and Lauren... She was the cutest thing. A few days before Valentine's Day Mrs. Ragucci told us to start thinking about making our cards for that special someone. I knew immediately who was to receive mine. As the day drew closer, I hoped she had the same feelings for me. I hoped she was planning the perfect Valentine for me. I thought, "The clock was ticking so she had better stop answering all the god damned math questions and get her mind right."

The BIG DAY came. I was prepared. I had scissors, plenty of red paper, and glue to place hearts carefully on my card. When Mrs. Ragucci finished up our spelling lesson near the end of the day; she told us to take out our art supplies. Little did she know I had surreptitiously been working on my Valentine all day. I learned nothing in school on that particular day.

As the rest of the class quietly worked on their cards, mine was finished. I thought receiving a Valentine from me was as coveted as a degree from Princeton. I looked around the room with a shit eating grin on my face at the rest of those saps who thought that had a bleeding chance in hell at my lady. She was mine for the taking. We were in CCD together. Our parents took turns carpooling us, yet I don't think we ever said anything to one another. I was just working my game and waiting for the perfect moment... and this was it.

With my head on a swivel, I watched all the other guys closely. I wanted to see who thought they had a drop on my future baby mama. It was looking good. You see, the thing was... Lauren was a sleeper. She wasn't the class favorite. She was number 2. A girl named Christine was everyone else's heartbreaker. I didn't see it. I only had eyes for Lauren.

At the end of the card making session I took a deep breath, tied my little Jordan's tightly and prepared myself for the walk over to her desk. Then Mrs. Ragucci made an announcement, "Okay kids, I'll come around and collect all of your cards, and I'll hand them to your Valentine." Shit. What the fuck was that all about? She wanted us to turn them in so that SHE could redistribute them to protect our anonymity. I was pissed. I get it, she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but how did she think the funny looking kids felt when she was standing over Lauren and Christine's desks handing them all the cards? Furious. I wanted to give her the card myself. So in a freak out moment when Mrs. R got close, I signed the card... "Love, Your Secret Admirer." What an idiot. When she took the card from me I was deflated. Later I saw her handing Lauren 10 or so cards and I knew I was a goner. I had no shot. She'd never know... Story of my fucking life.

I waited until 5th grade to tell Lauren I loved her. She was so shy, but apparently she liked me back. All that time we wasted! Our torrid affair lasted for a week or so before middle school started. I think we held hands once or twice on the crosswalk. That was it. I got more play in Pre-School. Then once middle school started everything changed. There were more options for the both of us. We drifted apart. I always wanted to go back to 2nd grade and tell her everything. I wanted to tell her we could run away and live in my parent's basement, but I never did. I moved away after middle school and who knows what could have been if I'd only sacked up.

So this Valentine's Day... Let's not miss the boat fellas. It's time to make your damn move. Otherwise you'll be spending a Friday writing about some chick you haven't seen since 2nd grade. And hey ladies, don't be scared to make a move yourselves... I mean what's the worst that could happen? You might get shot down... So what... My feelings are more deeply hurt watching one of those suckers get kicked off American Idol. Remember Valentine's Day can be like it was in 2nd grade, just with a little more communication I hope. But nothing can replace the wonderment you have as a child. Damn I miss my youth. Happy Valentine's Day to everyone out there... Especially you Mom.

I AM FASCINATED...

2010-02-03T12:49:00.000-08:00

by the unbelievably large SQUID that are appearing off the coast of California. Have you seen them? If not, Google it because I don't have time to drop the link. They are GIGANTIC. I've always liked fried calamari, but I couldn't imagine one of these sonofabitches on my plate. You'd have to dine on the hood of your car. These carnivorous cephalopods can weigh up to 100 lbs and squirt nasty ink when they're pissed. Can you picture yourself jumping into the ocean and seeing these phallic-like creatures swimming toward you? They look like John Holmes' dong on steroids... with tentacles. One second you're going for a dip in the ocean, the next you're in a Jules Verne/Michael Crichton novel/70's porno flick. I would lose it. Isn't it bad enough we have have sharks to be afraid of? Granted, shark attacks are highly unlikely... But if one of those suckers ever gets a hold of you... Kiss your ass goodbye.

When I was a kid I loved swimming pools. At one point we had one of those above ground pools that you've only ever seen on TV in New Jersey. For me, it was like having the Atlantic Ocean in my little backyard. Pools are a safe place to swim. No sharks. No giant squid. No waves. No undertow. All I had to worry about was my big brother and his friends dunking me.

I remember my parents taking us to the SHORE when we were young. My brother and I loved the ocean. Personally, I wasn't a big fan of the sand or too much sun, but the water was my sanctuary. I thoroughly enjoyed navigating underwater. I pretended I was a deep sea diver... In 4 feet of water. Then one weekend in the mid 80's I saw a little film called "JAWS". Maybe you've heard of it? And suddenly everything changed.

Even though my father used to swim out as far as he could without getting whistled by the lifeguards; I worried about him. He's not afraid of anything though. My old man thinks he can kick a shark's ass. He probably could.

As I got older, I went to the beach more often, but shied away from being in the water for long periods of time. I'm not sure if I was just scared of sharks or more simply... THE UNKNOWN. The problem with the ocean is... you can't see very far down... Especially off the coasts of the US. And that scares the shit out of me.

I have the same problem with LAKES. Lakes are creepy as hell. One time in High School, I was staying with a friend who lived just outside of Scranton, PA. There was a huge lake in front of his house. They had a dock and this awesome homemade raft tied to it. He and his father built the raft out of wood planks and barrels. He asked if I wanted to take the raft out. I said, "Sure" cause I didn't want to sound like a sissy. So we jump on, untie the rope, grab the oars, and paddle out to the middle of the lake.

It took a while to get out there. We picked a nice, serene spot and dropped the anchor (yes, this thing had an anchor; it was that big). If Jack and Rose had this sucker on the Titanic, that bullshit story would have been told from a man's perspective and definitely rated R.

This place was beautiful. Robert Frost poems were running through my mind. Other people were far off on boats and rafts. I was thinking, "Man, this is the life." We proceeded to take our shirts off to catch the day's last rays of sun because it was going down. We were out there less than a minute when I said, "What the hell are we supposed to do out here?" My buddy shrugged his shoulders and said, "Yeah, this sucks... let's head in." I say "Okay."

As I turned around to pick up an oar, I hear a splash. He jumped into the water. I scream, "Where the fuck are you going?" He turns to me and says, "Let's swim in... I do it all the time."

"NO FUCKING WAY!" I yell. "Don't be a pussy" he replies... and starts swimming in. FUCK! I was not a happy camper. There was no way I could paddle this MONSTROSITY to shore by my lonesome; it was a two man operation. I started to freak out.

As I watched my asshole friend, who was on the swim team by the way, move with relative ease through the water I thought, "You can do this." Then I looked up and saw how far away the dock was... Bad news. At the very least it was a quarter of a mile, probably way more. I'd never swam that far in my life. My diaper needed to be changed immediately.

I took a deep breath, stepped back, and with a running start dove into the dark abyss. Honestly, I don't think I looked up once. I couldn't hear anything but my breathing. I pushed forward and kept my head moving side to side while my arms made quick strokes. I was like Michael Phelps cutting through the calm water of a Beijing pool. I felt like something was chasing me. I'm obviously insane. Before I knew it, I was feeling muck and underwater plants touching my arms and legs. I stopped swimming and stood up. I was in less than a foot of water and had mud all over me. The dock was two feet from my face.

Up on the dock my buddy was laughing hysterically. I looked up, shot him a death stare and said, "Go FUCK yourself." He looked down at me and said he'd never seen anyone that scared in his entire life. He also said it was the quickest he'd ever seen anybody make it back from that far out. I didn't give a shit. I was pissed. If he was in the water, I would have drowned his ass.

Two years ago I went to the Galapagos Islands. I swam with penguins, sharks, dolphins and all kinds of underwater creatures for hours. I was scared, but I figured this was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. It was an amazing experience. I also climbed a 60 foot cliff with the natives and jumped off, but that's another story altogether.

I owe thanks to my buddy for stranding me in the middle of the lake that day. I conquered fears I never wanted to face. And what happened was... I realized it was okay to be afraid of the unknown, but you can't let it hold you back from experiencing what's out there. Life is all about experience my friends.

I AM DISAPPOINTED...

2010-01-28T17:36:00.000-08:00

in human beings at the moment. I witnessed an act of the most cowardly proportions a few days ago. I've since lost many hours of sleep. I lie there staring at the ceiling in DISGUST. Aren't there certain laws of humanity that surpass the stronghold of the government? For example... Ladies first, helping others in need, be nice to your mother, take a shower, don't ski in Jeans, and it's okay to taunt opposing fans, but never, and I mean ever should you put your hands on one of them.

As we all know, I went to INDIANAPOLIS this past weekend to watch the JETS fall short of a Superbowl birth. My 3 friends and I were having the time of our lives. Yes, I said it... We were having the times of our lives in INDY. I know it's hard to believe, being that Indianapolis is located in the Midwest and it's no BIG APPLE, but my friends and I tend to find a good time anywhere.

Saturday night we met at the hotel bar for some food and drinks. Once we were a little sauced, it was time to grab a cab and hit the town. Jets fans were everywhere. A river of green flowed through the streets of Indy like the Chicago on St. Patty's. JETS chants left and right (most of which I was leading while standing on my barstool). We were in heaven.

Sunday morning we grabbed a quick Continental breakfast at the hotel. We followed that normalcy with a few drinks up in our room and then prepped for tailgating. Since our hotel was in Lucas Oil Stadium's parking lot, we didn't have to go far to find a good pre-game party. We saw the fans gathering down below, pounded our drinks, made roadies, packed our bags and joined them.

Downstairs... it was ON like CHAKA KHAN. Beers and Captain Morgan were consuming us. Jets fans in full uniform acting civilly for a change. Everyone was happy. Honestly, we were all just happy to be there. People you normally wouldn't piss next to in a public restroom were standing shoulder to shoulder with you swaying back and forth singing every New York song you could think of. Even the player's families and friends joined us. It was fantastic.

After 2 hours of tomfoolery in the lot we had met numerous JETS and COLTS fans that were cool. Everything seemed chill. Then out of nowhere, the COPS started to harass us. They drove through our tailgate at least 50 times. They weren't saying anything... Just bleeping that obnoxious sound their PA makes telling you to get of the way without words. Nobody was doing anything wrong, yet they continuously shot dirty looks our way. Nobody was yelling at the police. Nobody was fighting. Everyone was having a merry old time and it seemed like the police were doing anything they could to prevent it. My friends and I figured... Screw this... and we went into the stadium. Later we heard cops tazed some JETS fan back at our tailgate after we left. And guess what... He didn't do anything wrong either. If you don't believe me, check out the video on YOUTUBE. It's complete bullshit. Those coppers were peasants.

We get to our seats and they are AWESOME. The stadium itself is beautiful. Our view was SICK... Well it better have been with what those seats were going for. So as we're sitting down, like always, we introduce ourselves to fans surrounding us no matter what team they're supporting. We explain how we get really excited and how we like to stand during the game. Everyone says, "That's fine, we'll all be standing." I'm thinking... This is sweet.

Midway through the first quarter the JETS were doing well and we were standing quite often. The EVENT STAFF approached us and said "sit down". We sat... laughed it off and were standing moments later. They returned and told us to stay in our seats or they would have to ask us to leave. I said, "Look around man, IT'S THE AFC CHAMPIONSHIP! Everyone is standing!" We gave in and sat down, but when the JETS made a good play we were back on our feet. I hate to break it to these bottom dwellers, but that's what fans do.

Then, it seemed like we (and the 5 other JETS fans in our row.. one of whom was a 7 year old boy) were the only ones standing in our section. As the JETS started to play really well; we continued to celebrate. Colts fans started to complain like a bunch of fucking 5 year old girls. The Event Staff approached us again. This time I was pissed. I yelled back at them, "This place is a joke!" Then some COLTS fan must have taken that comment to heart because he went NUTS. "Who you calling a joke!?" he said. "Don't call me a JOKE!" he continued. I turned and said, "There's a kid here, watch your mouth pal." Normally I wouldn't care if some fan was cursing at me, but there was a 7 year old boy sitting right next to me. His father had flown them out from New York. It was his son's first game, so I didn't want to ruin his experience.

This guy behind the kid's father would not let it go. My buddy Will and I just brushed him off. We kept telling him to be quiet. Relax. It's just a football game... But this relentless mother fucker would not stop. My blood was beginning to BOIL and Will noticed. He grabbed me and said, "Take it easy man, don't do anything... We came all this way, paid all this money, and there's a kid next to us." I told him he was right and tried to calm down, but this dude would not give it up. Finally Will told me to focus on the game, so we both turned around and as the guy continued mouthing off, Will turned to face the game and stuck his right hand up and flicked him off.

This asshole lunged three seats down from the row behind us and grabbed Will's finger snapping it in half. Neither of us were even looking. I immediately turned to smash this guy in his face, but his friends were already dragging him into the aisle. Will looks at me and says, "That dude just broke my finger." Smoke begins to come out of my ears. I am FUMING. The Event Staff immediately removed this guy and Will from their seats and took them somewhere to get a statement. The poor kid sitting next to me was shitting his pants.

Now anyone that knows me, knows I will do anything for the people I love. That includes lying down in traffic and fighting for the right cause. And WILL is my guy. My best friend. I would kill for him. I'm the GODFATHER of his son for Christ's sake. Long story, long, they wanted to kick Will out of the game, not the other guy. When I heard this, I ran up to the nearest cop and explained the situation. He knew about it and said, "Your friend had it coming." Really? Did he? This dipshit didn't even see what happened. And aren't you an officer of the LAW!? It's called ASSAULT you fucking redneck HONKEY. I was so pissed, I could've murdered someone. By Halftime, the staff let both men return to their seats.

Will wanted me to keep my cool so that we could watch the rest of the game. He didn't want to get kicked out, plus he had a lawsuit brewing in his brain.

This fucking asshole who broke Will's digit was in his early 40's. He seemed like a regular guy at the game with his girl and some friends. I can't believe there was a little kid between us... And he still acted this way? He should be ashamed of himself. After the game Will and I went to the Hospital and sure enough, his finger was broken. The X-ray made me sick. That's right... Although he broke his finger in the first quarter and the medic told him to get to a hospital immediately, he refused. He told them he was there to watch a football game. And he did just that.

Those Security guards, Event Staffers, and Cops who were working the game can go FUCK themselves. They were pieces of hippopotamus shit. Totally unprofessional scumbags barely giving their high school diplomas justice... Sad really. So to all of you visiting fans... Watch out in INDY. That place is cursed forever. It's a shame those douchebags had to ruin the entire trip for me because there were nice people there... But now I never want to go back. And it's a shame the nice people of that town are paying those cop's salaries. I hope that JETS fan who was tazed sues the fuck out of that moronic police department and I hope the moron who broke my boy's finger dies a SLOW, PAINFUL DEATH.

Yesterday Will emailed me the statement from the stadium security office. Nothing Will said in HIS statement was on it... Nothing. It was the other Jerkoff's words. Can you believe these people. I can't wait to write a letter to the NFL Commissioner about how poorly the people in INDY follow laws and handle business. And that piece of shit COLTS FAN FUCKHEAD is going to get off SCOTT FREE? He's probably at home, sitting on his couch... FEEDING THE DUCKS, thinking to himself, "that punk kid got what he deserved." Makes me enraged. But you know what? That guy will get his. Whether he gets struck by lightning or he gets thrown in county pound-me-in-the-ass prison for hitting his wife... He'll get his. If I ever see that guy again, I will break his fucking neck and go to prison for LIFE if I have to. That's right, I said it.

***Lesson HERE: You never, and I mean never... Put your hands on another human being unless you absolutely have to. Going to sporting events and talking shit to one another is okay. It's tradition... And in the end no matter who wins; we all shake hands. It's called sportsmanship. Fan code... No hard feelings. It's just a game. There's no excuse for what that grown man did. I don't care if WILL was standing in that guy's face, waving his middle finger and telling him to go fuck his mother (which he absolutely did not do). You DON'T put your hands on other people. Period. (If you are defending your family or doing it for survival... you get a pass.)

I just hope we did the right thing by not retaliating. It made me feel like a pussy. A grown up one. I felt as if I let my friend down, but truthfully there was nothing we could do to rectify the situation.

I've been really upset about the whole thing since my return to LA. Should we sue him? Should we go after the stadium for handling it so poorly? Who knows... That's all up to Will now... It was merely bad luck... some poor judgement... and some alcohol. A recipe for disaster. Hey JIM MOORE from INDIANAPOLIS... FUCK YOU... You sad excuse for a man. You're a pussy.***

I AM OFF...

2010-01-21T17:35:00.000-08:00

To INDIANAPOLIS this weekend to watch my beloved JETS play the COLTS in the AFC CHAMPIONSHIP GAME. These great franchises have met before. In Super Bowl III, the Jets quarterback Joe Namath predicted a victory over the Colts (then in Baltimore) and brought it home to New York. The Jets won 16-7 down in Miami. That was 1969... and the last time the Jets were in the Super Bowl. It's also a rematch of this year's week 16 match-up, where the JETS won 29-15. Everyone places an asterisk next to that victory because the Colts pulled most of their marquee players, including Peyton Manning, during the 3rd quarter. Apparently they had nothing to the play for (they were already the #1 seed in the playoffs), while the Jets were playing for everything. Let them say what they want. I guess we'll see what the GANG GREEN is really made of this Sunday at Lucas Oil Stadium.

Ah, the Great MIDWEST... It's absurd how little the people from the coasts know about the middle of this country. Growing up on the East Coast and then moving to LA hasn't helped with my knowledge of the midwest, especially of Indiana. Well, this is what I do know about the Hoosier State...

INDIANA is one of the few states I have not visited. It's the home to the University of INDIANA HOOSIERS and their storied basketball program. Does the name Bobby Knight ring a bell? Also the greatest sports movie ever made, "HOOSIERS" with Gene Hackman, is set in a small town there. Larry Bird hails from Indiana... French Lick to be exact. He also went on to attend Indiana State University, appropriately nicknamed the SYCAMORES (I love that mascot), where he took them to the Championship game in the late 70's. I know Gary, Indiana used to have the highest murder rate in the country, but has since been surpassed by CAMDEN, NJ, and Detroit, Michigan, numerous times.

My friend MILAN is from Indiana. He's the biggest Indian dude you've ever seen. Dots, not feathers. He really is a good guy. He's out here in LA producing movies. He carries with him a sweet nickname... "The Hollywood Hindu". He's also a licensed minister and is available for wedding ceremonies. Please contact me if you want to get hitched by this maniac and I'll let him know. I think everyone who meets him says, "There are Indian people in INDIANA?" Yes morons. This is AMERICA! There are different kinds of people everywhere... even in Indiana.

Another great film takes place in Bloomington, Indiana. It's called "BREAKING AWAY" with Dennis Quaid and Daniel Stern. It's only fitting I mention this AMAZING movie since it's about a group of underdog young men (CUTTERS) who live in a college town. The preppy college students give them no respect. To quiet their critics the "Cutters" enter a bike race versus the "Preps" and everyone else who belittled them along the way. And against all odds they bring home a VICTORY... earning the respect from their peers, the college students and their families. No respect. Sound familiar?

So this weekend should be fun. I'll be navigating through a new city on my own for a few hours. I love going to a strange land, especially when I know a few close friends aren't far behind. My best friend Will is meeting me in INDY on Saturday night for a few pre-game cocktails and by Sunday morning we'll be getting our minds right. Once again the JETS are HUGE underdogs and will have a chance to make history, silence the critics, and earn the respect of their peers. I think they have a good chance. The fans believe... The coaches believe... The players believe... But nobody else does. And I say Fuck em. Rock and Roll GANG GREEN! We're with you all the way! J-E-T-S!!! Jets! Jets! Jets!

***Tune in on Sunday at 3PM Eastern and 12PM Pacific Standard Time. Look for me and my buddy Will SCISSOR KICKING Colts fans on the big screen!***

I AM A TOYS R US KID...

2010-01-19T16:50:00.000-08:00

Or at least I once was. "I don't want to grow up cause if I did, I couldn't be a TOYS R US kid!" Remember that catchy jingle? I do. As a child I had everything. Toys and trains and video games... just like the song. I had them all. I haven't seen any of that stuff in years. The HE-MAN collection, the GI JOES, the TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES (I thought I was Raphael), and the MICROMACHINES were among my serious collections. Also I had more baseball, basketball, and football cards than every kid I knew. I used to rummage through the couch cushions for change to buy packs of cards from the ICE CREAM truck. I recently wondered where all of that shit went.

I barely recall a garage sale we had when my mom was moving us after I started High School back in 1995. If memory serves, I think some dude bought all of my TRANSFORMERS and GOBOTS (which I favored over Transformers unlike most of you bandwagon freaks). And some woman bought all of our Star Wars toys, Castle Grayskull, and the GI JOE BASE. I also sold some sports cards that day and a few more a month or so later including Joe Montana and Lawrence Taylor's rookies. So where did the other stuff disappear to?

I mentioned a few days back I had my new/old car shipped out here from Florida. About a week prior to the shipment, I received a call from my MOM. She asked, excuse me, she TOLD me, "Honey, I'm going to put a few of your things in the car before it ships off, okay?" I said, "Sure" knowing that wasn't a question.

A few days after I got a call from my DAD. He said, "Son, I hope you know your Mother is having me put a ton of shit in this car." My response was, "Figures." And we both laughed. I then said, "What kind of stuff?" "I don't even want to start opening these boxes, but everything looks pretty old" he replied. So I told him not to worry about it. I'd sort it out upon the car's arrival.

The car arrived on Friday morning. I immediately took all of the SHIT out of the back seat and trunk with the help of some very good friends. I placed the crates, plastic containers, and boxes in my living room and just stared at them... Completely overwhelmed. I anxiously took off for work a few minutes later knowing there was going to be some fun stuff to find in those treasure chests.

That night I opened them up. The first container had... The game JENGA... still missing 1 block like it did 12 years ago. Garbage. 20 or so PEZ dispensers that MOM collected, not me. Easy one... Garbage. My roommate and I actually ate the ones that had unopened candy still in the packaging. The PEZ tasted pretty good to me. In his words, "Damn these are good, but they taste like an old lady's house." Sorry Mom, I think you look great! You can scold him the next time you see him. A yellow STOP sign popped up next. I remember it being on my brother's door and eventually on mine. It was probably over 30 years old. Garbage. Picture albums filled with awesome memories came next. My elementary school track team pictures were inside. My High School championship football days were well documented and there were also some pictures of my college girlfriend. Those all got a PASS. SAVE. One down.

The next container had articles about my teams in High School and College. Clippings of Touchdowns and pictures in the paper... The ALL STATE TEAM. SAVE. Underneath those were some college text books and papers I had written. Save a few; trash the rest. My first piggy bank (which was actually a monkey in a cage). I busted that thing open and all I found was about a dollar in pennies, 500 pesos, and a fake 100 dollar bill. Fuck. Garbage.

Then beneath that horseshit... Baseball, football, and basketball cards GALORE. Jackpot. it was like being in a sports collectibles shop. Memorabilia everywhere. Signed baseballs. Plaques I received while playing college football. An MVP award from High School. I even had a signed football from when I was 9 or 10. It was my first season playing full contact football and we won the state championship. The ISELIN GIANTS. Man, we were NASTY. My profile picture came from those days.

By the time I finished sorting through the old cards and memorabilia 2 hours had passed. I didn't feel like messing around with the other containers, so I just peeked in one more and... BINGO!!! HE-MAN figures... All of them. An army of GI JOES and COBRAS. MICROMACHINES everywhere! This was awesome. I wound up sitting my ass back down on the floor and playing with toys for another two hours. By the way, this was a Friday night. Boy do I need to get my shit together.

So I raised the question... What do I do with all of this stuff? Every piece holds a different memory. Each soldier has fought a battle, whether it was against a nasty COBRA or a cranky ME when I was trying to bury my JOES alive for disappointing me. Some of the HE-MAN figures looked like the had served in NAM. I put those guys through HELL, but surprisingly most of the others were in pretty damn good condition. These things are so hard to let go.

I went to bed that night with a smile on my face. Maybe it was because I had a few drinks in me, but the more likely reason was the simple fact that I had the chance to relive my childhood for a few hours. My reunion with my plastic childhood friends was delightful, but I knew the feeling wouldn't last. I couldn't possibly save all of these toys. I don't have the room. I just didn't know what to do with them. I thought for a second about throwing them away or donating them to Toys for Tots (if they still do that?). Then it hit me... I AM A GODFATHER... and I passed out.

The following day my best friend WILL arrived. I told him about how my Mom shipped all of my toys out here and I wanted to give them to CHASE (his son) for when he got a little older. We looked through a container or two and he was FIRED up. His mom had sold or thrown away all of his toys and he always wanted to have stuff to pass down to his boy. Now he will have that chance. You always want your kids to have some hand-me-down toys cause they usually turn out to be the favorites and you want them to play with some of the things you had. Problem solved.

Now I don't have to worry about them taking up half of my house and Will can store them in his basement until Chase reaches the appropriate age for each kind of toy. He can go downstairs when the time comes instead of having to spend a million dollars at TOYS R US. It was a good thing we had to go to SAN DIEGO early the next morning to watch the JETS or we would have stayed up all night drinking and playing WAR with GI JOES and HE-MEN.

The toys we had as children will always be a part of who we are today and they will hold a special place in our hearts forever... No matter how old you are. So if you have the chance to give them away to someone who will appreciate them... Do it. I guess what I'm alluding to here is... I'll always be a Toys R Us kid.

***Did I mention the JETS silenced the critics yet again this past weekend? Well they did. They overcame adversity once again and picked up a HUGE VICTORY in the AFC DIVISIONAL PLAYOFFS this past SUNDAY against the Chargers. Off to INDIANAPOLIS this weekend for the AFC CHAMPIONSHIP game against the Colts! It should be a great one. Best Offense vs. Best Defense. One more Gang Green! We're with you! J-E-T-S!!! Jets! Jets! Jets!***

I AM GENUINELY...

2010-01-15T16:55:00.000-08:00

Excited about the weekend ahead of me. I don't even care about working today. I'm actually being productive, as opposed to my usual Friday behavior. Normally, I work hard for 2 hours and then pout for 6, but not today my friends. Today, I am all SMILES. I'm dusting corners, updating my website, ordering out for lunch (delicious Thai), being friendly to customers (and foreigners), and listening to some great tunes. So what is the reason for my sunny disposition?

Well for one, my car (the totaled one) situation was finally resolved this morning. I recently got my check from the SHITBAG insurance company 4 months after the incident, but it's better late than never. I still think I got hosed, but I don't care anymore... At least I got something. And yesterday morning I said goodbye to the MUSTANG. It was difficult, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a tad choked up as the tow truck pulled away. I was sad because we spent so much time together and I could have gotten way more money for the parts if I took the time to disassemble it. Anyhow, it was time for a fresh start.

This morning I got my newest GIRL. A 1994 INFINITY... Which belonged to my Mom and eventually my Dad. I had it shipped from Florida a few days ago and it's already in my possession. She's old, but looking good. It was the first new car my Mom ever had in her life... so I'm going to treat her right; with kid gloves. Thanks Pop... For taking care of me as always. You're the man.

Now, as if things couldn't get any better, my good buddy got a serious hookup for JETS PLAYOFF TICKETS this weekend. As a result of our good fortune, my best friend Will is flying in from Denver for the game (much to his wife's chagrin I'm sure). And on top of that, one of my college teammates (also a HUGE JETS FAN) is coming with us. Even another friend of mine from college is flying in to cheer on the GANG GREEN in San Diego on Sunday. I can't wait to be grilling some RIBS in the parking lot with some of my favorite people... F'in pumped.

Everything tastes great when you're getting your way. It's at times like these when I realize I've never had it that bad. My life isn't so tough... but perhaps I need to make it tougher. This year I'm going to work harder than I ever have before. Things are going to fall into place. I truly believe that.

Now, people have been asking me, "Why do you care so much about a silly football team?" And, "Aren't you too old to be acting like this?" First off, the NEW YORK JETS are NOT silly. Second, I will LOVE the JETS forever. Deal with it.

As we all know... I love football. I played it. I just love sports. Maybe American sports are corrupt and the players are overpaid, but I don't give a shit... So are Bankers and CEOs. Sports have been giving people like me hope for as long as I can remember. If you know what I'm talking about; you're most certainly a member of the MIDDLE CLASS... so welcome home. And if you don't... Close your computer, get back into your BENZ and shove your PRADA hand bag up your ASS.

Every weekend for 6 months during football season people can tune in and watch their favorite teams and players living out their dreams competitively on National Television (unless it's a Lions game cause they get blacked out locally). It's an escape from reality... If just for a little while. We all need this in some form, trust me. When you cheer for a team it makes you feel like you are part of something. And when that team is winning... Something Special. I couldn't be further from the NY JETS organization or its players, yet I still feel like I'm a part of it. No matter what happens on Sunday down in San Diego, I will be putting my all into encouraging them... Whether they can hear me or not. And I'm sure my friends will do the same. Even if the outcome isn't what we hope for (VICTORY), I am prepared to be doing the same exact thing next season.

So don't knock someone if they love a particular team or sport. Whether it's football or soccer, fencing or badminton, Ping-Pong or UFC (which I'm not a fan of)... Give them a break. You don't have to love it, but you should understand. They probably love fencing as much as you love drawing, going to the theater, writing, playing board games, or masturbating. And as far as I'm concerned; you're never too old to love any of those things. To each his or her own.

HUGE game this weekend kids!!! I hope you all tune in on Sunday 4PM Eastern, 1PM Pacific time as I will be in the stadium squeezing a CHARGERS fan into submission by administering the FIGURE FOUR LEGLOCK!!! Go J-E-T-S!!! JETS! JETS! JETS! I'm behind you all the way!

***Sidenote: If you're not too busy on Saturday night, cheer your asses off for the Baltimore Ravens as well!***

I AM AMAZED...

2010-01-12T16:53:00.000-08:00

How quickly time passes, yet when you haven't seen a good friend in ages, it seems like only a few minutes have gone by. The only difference is now some of us have pot bellies, boobs, legs that go up an make an ass out of themselves, beards, homosexual tendencies and receding hairlines. Some people come in and out of your life, others you meet, make a strong connection with and still somehow you manage to lose touch. They were your friends, but just for a short period of time. It doesn't make them any less important; they just weren't your REAL friends. That's life for you. The ones who are, even if you don't see them regularly, keep in touch no matter what.

Last week a friend of mine was in town from Texas. I hadn't seen him in 14 years. He and I met in the 4th grade. He moved to New Jersey from Texas and was placed in my class at good old School #19. He sat next me. The kid was flat out obnoxious, but he was smart. I wanted to ring his neck in the standard territorial fashion and most of the other kids would have paid to watch since they weren't so fond of him either. After a slight altercation (in Jersey terms a slight altercation means a public MMA fight) between us, our parents made us apologize and we've been friends ever since.

During our 7 year stint living in the same neighborhood we saw a lot of each other. I brought him into my group of friends and they soon welcomed him. When I moved away they all stayed close. We spent many days roaming the tracks, creating mischief, sneaking out in the middle of the night, joyriding cars without a license, and making out with girls. Man, those days were sweet. I moved away in 9th grade and his family relocated to Texas a little more than a year later.

One weekend I came home from boarding school and invited all my friends from the old stomping grounds over my new house. I hadn't seen the guys in a while, so it was kind of a reunion. We had a blast. Not long after, my buddy moved and that was the last time I saw him... until last Monday.

When he came by, we shot the proverbial shit. We picked up right where we left off... Since we last saw each other; he want to College, joined the Marines, and lived all over the world. He'd gone through some serious shit, but hadn't changed a bit. I want to take the opportunity right now to thank that maniac for his service, because without guys like him, we'd be fucked. So we put back a few cold ones and watched some football. A few of my friends stopped by and nobody was uncomfortable. It was as if my new friends all seemed to know him. I guess my unbelievable story telling ability was behind that response. It was just good to see him.

He left a few days later. I may not see him for another 14 years, but it won't matter. If that happens, I'm positive it will be like only a few days have passed, not years. He'll always be welcome in my home. I love keeping friendships up. One of my other buddies from that group of kids in the old neighborhood is still one of my best friends to this day. I see him often, even though we live on separate coasts and we wreak havoc every chance we get.

With FACEBOOK and all this other internet shit out there, you can chat with old friends, new friends and long lost family members constantly. It's great. I love both new and old friends and the ones I no longer see. I love speaking with people who were just a passing face in the courtyard many years ago and beginning a new friendship with them. How awesome is it to be able to talk with a cousin you haven't seen since your COMMUNION 20 years ago? Pretty awesome if you ask me.

You can learn something new from the people around you everyday. So many of them can have an impact on your life, especially when you least expect it. This is why it's important to have a variety of friends. It will make you brighter, happier and more REAL. Staying in your house, hoarding shit, and isolating yourself from the world and all of the wonderful people in it is a HUGE mistake. Sure, there are plenty of BLOWHOLES out there, but if you bump into enough people, you're bound to find at least one you like. I know I sure have.

Oh yeah... And the Jets are my friends too... Go J-E-T-S!!! Jets! Jets! Jets! Beat the Chargers this weekend!

I AM ABOUT TO...

2010-01-08T18:02:00.000-08:00

Cancel my MYSPACE account. Do people still use that thing? Apparently they do cause my profile had thousands of views. More people probably have read my MYSPACE page than actually read this thing. Pathetic. Perhaps all of the people that use Myspace are just younger than me. I hadn't signed on to it in FOREVER. A few minutes ago I logged on and had friend requests out the WAZOO from people I don't know telling me to listen to their music, come to their art shows, and a few teeny boppers saying they loved my profile pic. Fucking Nutjobs.

I was thinking, "What do I need this for?" I mean, I have a FACEBOOK account, which seems to be more than enough. I prefer FB because there isn't much of a hassle with it. Not much spam. Your friends are actually, your friends. Fewer creeps lurking and it's a great platform for my writing. Every time I've ever logged into MYSPACE to check out someone's page, whatever song they have blasting on their profile annoys the shit out of me. I just heard mine, which is super out-dated, but still awesome (Black Sandals by SIA). Maybe I'm just being a judgmental dickwad and should post my blogs on MI ESPACIO as well. We'll see. Wait a minute... What the hell am I saying? I thought I was canceling this bloody thing! I believe I just convinced myself to keep it. Fuck. What a loser.

Anyway, the reason for this entry was to show all of you what I wrote about myself in the "ABOUT ME" section of my Myspace profile. I guess it was my first BLOG entry if you will. I hope you get a kick out of it... Cause I sure as hell just did.

About me:

What you see is not what you get. It dawned on me recently that there are a few things I have to come to terms with in order to move forward.

1.) My lazy eye may or may not become a distraction.

2.) Being a pirate is not a very lucrative profession.

3.) I'm not Jewish, or Black.

4.) It's not okay to be uninsured.

5.) Catholic priests are an enigma.

6.) Security is an illusion.

7.) Will really got married.

8.) Dying old, alone, and in the dark is a strong possibility for me.

9.) People that hate me for my brutal honesty better take a number.

10.) Waite graduated from college.

11.) It's impossible to have a conversation with someone in a full Knight suit and keep a straight face.

12.) My Father is a TEAMSTER and I'm fucking proud of it.

13.) Most people are sheep... They should read more.

14.) I've never been ice skating.

15.) The people who bite their fingernails and smoke cigarettes incessantly aren't really affecting my daily routine.

16.) Mormons are some brave mother fuckers.

17.) Apparently being a loser is cool.

18.) Just because I listen to sappy music and British pop doesn't make me gay or depressed... I think?

19.) "THE BREAK UP" is the saddest movie I've ever seen.

20.) People will do almost anything to get attention and then it all seems so clear.

21.) I realize that everyone who lives will someday die, and die alone.

22.) It's legal for MEN to wear JEAN SHORTS... And I just don't get it.

23.) Realizing how much of a loser/peasant I am for writing all of this bullshit and actually having one of these savvy self promotional friend things... Then wiping my brow in relief knowing you just read it... And wasted 60 seconds of your life.

And as a little bonus... This was my "Who I'd like to meet" section:

My Mother and Father in their PRIME... CIRCA 1963. Someone who just gets it. A nice girl. Maybe LT on a BENDER back in the 80's sometime after the Giants won the Super Bowl or Joe Namath back when it was still cool to be an alcoholic and the JETS were nasty. Someone who knows when to be quiet and when to tell me when to be quiet. My friends from the TERRACE... Back on the tracks for an adventure sometime in the early 90's.

How do you like them apples? I'm officially a joker.

I AM GETTING OLD...

2010-01-07T13:09:00.000-08:00

My birthday was this past Sunday. I spent it relaxing, watching football and grilling. All I wanted for my birthday was a win from the NEW YORK JETS, which would ensure them a spot in the PLAYOFFS. Well, they gave it to me in a big way by destroying the Cincinnati Bengals 37-0. Sweet. Life was good that day. Now they have a rematch with them this Saturday in the Playoffs and anyone who knows anything about football knows it's extremely difficult to defeat a team two weeks in a row. Regardless of what happens, I will be in their corner all the way. Go J-E-T-S!!! Jets, Jets, Jets!!!

I remember when birthdays were a big deal. At 13, you were pumped because it's your first year as a teenager and the first time you'll spend an entire summer first basing with another immature adolescent in a cemetery. Then... Sweet 16 parties... You can drive... And 2nd basing is a delight (maybe more for you advanced clowns... ie ME). And 18 made you feel like an adult cause you could buy smokes for your mom, but still couldn't drink legally... Although I'm sure you got wasted and may have even gotten laid. Remember when your turned 21 and you took a shot for every year of your life? And consequently you were too drunk later on to get some cheeks? I on the other hand, was tossing shots over my shoulder like a pussy. Then at 25, you could finally rent a car on your own to drive to Las Vegas and lose control of your already dwindling finances. Now, at the tender age of 29, it has become just another day.

So my last year of my 20's is before me and I would be lying if I said I wasn't a bit nervous. But that's natural, I guess. I always figured by the time I was 30, I would have it all figured out. Now staring down the barrel of the BIG 3-0, I realize I'm far from it. But hey, I'm not 30 yet.

Most of my friends are married or engaged and the ones that aren't are well on their way. The married guys are either expecting children or changing diapers as we speak. The engaged ones are sitting back watching their wives-to-be plan their weddings. That's some REAL LIFE shit right there. I'm over here planning where to watch the JETS game this Saturday.

A few weeks back I took a trip to COLORADO to visit my best friend Will, his wife, and my GODSON CHASE. I recall a few years ago when Will and his wife (then girlfriend) were so happy. They had just moved to Colorado. They bought their first house together. They could drink and hang out. They would make dinner and simply enjoy being around one another. Then Will poetically asked his wife for her hand in marriage and she accepted. Everything was perfect. After being there for a few days I came to the conclusion that not much has changed. They're still happy... Maybe happier now than I've ever seen them. The only difference is they have added a beautiful baby boy to their family... and they're a bit more tired than usual. I've always admired the both of them, but sitting in their living room by myself one night in the quiet house, I became envious of their life together. The lesson here is: Once good people who know how to enjoy their lives; always good people who know how to enjoy their lives... No matter what changes may come.

I'm a SINGLE man. I don't really worry about that as much as I do about my career. Maybe I should since my mom said to me the other night, "You better hurry up honey, cause the window is closing on you meeting someone without kids." I laughed and said, "Yeah, okay Ma." Who knows? Maybe she's right. But right now, I'm not concerned with my personal life. I spend most of my time wondering... Will I make it? Am I working hard enough? Is success on the horizon? Or am I just waiting for the impending doom in a life of MEDIOCRITY? Being average sucks. I'm just doing everything within my power to avoid a situation where I have to head back with my tail between my legs like so many others that have come before me.

"My name's Keadly, Keadly Richerson. Last week I turned 29. I wasn't ready for it. I haven't done anything yet. So I made this deal with myself. This is the year I make my MARK." That's a little quote from 1985's "VISION QUEST" with my name and age substituted in there instead of the 18 year old character Louden Swain's (played by Matthew Modine). I used to say it all the time, but this year... I MEAN IT.

I AM JUST REALIZING...

2010-01-06T15:30:00.000-08:00

Another decade has passed. Over the past 10 years there have been some great movies out there. I know I was supposed to drop this top 10 list before the NEW YEAR, but I got busy... get over it. So for your delight I am extending my Top 10 to a TOP 16. Obviously this was the hardest list I've ever had to make since I love film so much, but here are 16 of my favorites... Many you might not have seen, a few you have, and probably a few you've never heard of...

16.) LIFE AS A HOUSE (2001) This story follows George Monroe (Kevin Kline), a divorced middle-aged man who loses his job, learns he has terminal cancer, and tries to reconnect with his troubled son (Hayden Christiansen) by spending the last summer of his life building a house with him. I'm not usually a fan of Hayden Christiansen, but in this film his whiny disposition actually works. Not a dry eye in the house during this one. Jenna Malone, Kristin Scott Thomas, and Mary Steenburgen are all fantastic costars.

15.) HIGH FIDELITY (2000) How about a movie about TOP 5 lists? In this winning comedy, John Cusack plays a record store owner who gets dumped by his girlfriend. And as a last gasp effort to get her back, he goes back over his top 5 girlfriends ever in an attempt to understand why he can't make a relationship work. It's hilarious and close to home. Jack Black, Tim Robbins and Todd Louiso will crack you up. I promise.

14.) KISS KISS BANG BANG (2005) This film is flat out hilarious. It's an old school murder mystery about a common thief (Robert Downey Jr) who is always in the wrong place at the wrong time. While on the run after committing a petty crime, Downey Jr stumbles into an audition and the producers of the film want to cast him. They love him so much that they fly him out to LA to meet a Private Detective who will help him get into character for the part. From there on out he runs into his childhood love, meets some interesting people and gets entangled in a murder mystery. It's great for shits and giggles. You can't go wrong with Downey Jr, Val Kilmer, Corbin Bernsen, and Michelle Monaghan... who happens to be one of the prettiest women to walk the face of the Earth.

13.) VANILLA SKY (2001) Cameron Crowe directed this remake of the Spanish film "ABRE LOS OJOS" (Open Your Eyes) amazingly. It's a doozy. To me, it's the most underrated film of the decade. Most people don't like it because they don't understand it. Tom Cruise is a delight as David Ames, a magazine mogul in his 30's who inherited his fortune when his parents died. His seemingly perfect life is literally flipped upside down one night when he meets the woman of his dreams and spends the entire night with her. The next morning the other woman he's sleeping with (Cameron Diaz) commits suicide by driving them off of a bridge. Ames survives with his face disfigured, but he finds it very hard to move on with his life. Watch this movie at least twice and don't take your eyes off of the screen... Otherwise you'll miss something very important. Jason Lee and Penelope Cruz also deliver in this psychological drama.

12.) JOYEUX NOEL (2005) This foreign film (French I believe) is told in many different languages, including French, German, and English. The story is set in France on Christmas Eve in 1914 during the height of World War I. Soldiers from opposing sides decide to put aside their differences, play soccer, and bury their dead together for one night. It's a touching and beautiful story of love and the human spirit. It's a real reality check.

11.) THE WACKNESS (2008) It's a story about a young outcast drug dealer, set in 1990's Manhattan, who seeks help from one of his clients... a therapist (Ben Kingsley). When the youngster graduates from high school he falls in love a promiscuous girl and his life goes straight down the shitter. Sound familiar? Thought so. The film is surprisingly moving, heartfelt and quite funny. The 90's backdrop and soundtrack provide hip hop music from it's pinnacle. And Sir Ben Kingsley is at the top of his game with his particularly off beat performance.

10.) LET THE RIGHT ONE IN (2008) At first, I didn't give this film the respect it deserved, but when I watched it a second time I saw the beauty and genius that was beneath the surface. It's a Swedish film about a young boy who's constantly bullied by his classmates. One night he meets a young girl who lives in his apartment complex. She protects him and they slowly become friends and eventually fall in love. The only problem is; she's a vampire. Don't miss this one.

9.) BATMAN BEGINS (2005) The caped crusader came back in a big way during the 2000's. He was brought to us in a different light in this dark tale. Truthfully, there's barely any light here. This story follows Bruce Wayne from the beginning and how he became what he was destined to become... A keeper of the peace, a misunderstood vigilante who helps authorities restore a city falling apart at the seams, and a masked man. THE BATMAN. Most people feel its sequel, "THE DARK KNIGHT" is a much better film because of Heath Ledger's turn as the Joker (which was unbelievable), but I adamantly disagree. This story is much stronger and digs way deeper into the origins of a superhero than any other film I've ever seen. Christian Bale kills it in "Begins". He is BATMAN.

8.) ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND (2004) Director Michel Gondry and writer Charlie Kaufman are a winning team. Each have their own quirky style and together they have made a masterpiece. This movie delves into relationships further than has ever been captured on film. The story is about Joel and Clementine. Two people who fall in love on a whim and are doomed from the start. Clementine goes to a specialist to have all of her memories of Joel erased. He then does everything in his power to make sure that doesn't happen. This visually delightful tale is a MUST SEE, check that a MUST BUY. Jim Carey is an excellent actor and this film is proof in the pudding. Kate Winslet is awesome... as per usual.

7.) MOONLIGHT MILE (2002) This touching tale was a star making turn for Jake Gyllenhaal and a great follow up after "Donnie Darko". The rest of the all star cast, including Susan Sarandon, Dustin Hoffman and Ellen Pompeo, all give memorable performances. It's about a young man that loses his fiance to a great tragedy while living at her family's house. And he hesitates to tell them the truth about their relationship because he loves her and her family too much.

6.) NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN (2007) The COEN BROTHERS never fail to exceed my expectations. These guys are the consummate filmmakers. When I saw this one on opening night back in 2007, I was floored. Josh Brolin immediately plunged into super stardom in his early 40's with his turn as Llewelyn Moss. Moss stumbles upon a small fortune in drug money and then tries to flee his home town. Before he can blink an eye, he is stalked by a cold-blooded bounty hunter, played by Oscar Winner Javier Bardem, who sported the creepiest haircut of all time in this role.

5.) THE BOURNE SERIES: IDENTITY, SUPREMACY, and ULTIMATUM (2002, 2004, 2007) This high octane series never lets you down. Jason Bourne, played to perfection by Matt Damon, is a man suffering from amnesia in the first installment. He goes on a journey to figure out who he is and how he became perhaps the most dangerous man alive and everything from the CIA to civilians to Interpol get in his way, but nothing can stop him. I can watch these over and over again and if you have any brains... so can you. The Bourne series proves that the action genre is not dead... And it can live on forever with intelligent stories like this one.

4.) WONDER BOYS (2000) Curtis Hanson directed this adaptation of Michael Chabon's novel. It's a witty, touching and smart Dramedy. You know Mr. Hanson from 1997's best film "LA CONFIDENTIAL". Wonder Boys gives us Grady Tripp, a jaded writing professor, played wonderfully by Michael Douglas. In one day, he loses his wife, learns his girlfriend is pregnant, and takes a young misguided student under his wing. Frances McDormand and Robert Downey Jr. round out the cast in this awesome flick. Check it out if you've never seen it; you'll be smiling for two hours straight.

3.) ONCE (2006) This musical delight is a love story that covers one week's time set in Dublin. A talented street musician meets a woman of equal aptitude and they develop a special friendship, make beautiful music together, all while learning about each other. I saw this one in the theaters 3 times and will be forever in debt to the girl that forced me out of my house on a fall night back in 2006. I LOVE this movie and watch it whenever I'm feeling blue.

2.) ALMOST FAMOUS (2000) This is easily one of my favorite films of all time. I'll never forget when one of my best friends (Seanie) came back from the theater when we were in college and said he had just seen the worst movie ever made. That's right, he was talking about Almost Famous. I immediately rushed to the theater in disbelief, knowing that Cameron Crowe directed this... and he never lets me down. My life was never the same. The film follows William Miller (based on Crowe as a teen) coming of age as he's on the road writing a piece for Rolling Stone Magazine about one of his favorite bands. This is the best coming of age story ever told. Crowe is a top notch writer and director and I challenge anyone to a boxing match that disagrees. Billy Crudup, Jason Lee, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, and Kate Hudson are all at the top of their game in this taste of perfection.

1.) MULHOLLAND DRIVE (2001) David Lynch's masterpiece is one of the weirdest and most talked about films ever made. I pick something else up every time I watch it. Film students will be mulling over this one until the end of time. Naomi Watts' creepy performance as a young naive actress made her an A-list celebrity as well as a respected actress. Not to mention it also landed her an Oscar nod. I can't really tell you what it's about. All I can say is dreams can sometimes make your view of reality quite blurry. This is probably the only movie that has ever scared the shit out of me and later made me ball my eyes out. Be careful out there; we live in a dangerous world.

HONORABLE MENTIONS (All of which could have easily made the list): OLD SCHOOL (2003), DONNIE DARKO (2001), THE MACHINIST (2004), THE DEPARTED (2006), THERE WILL BE BLOOD (2007), SAW (2004), THE PRESTIGE (2006), IGBY GOES DOWN (2002), SAVED (2004), GARDEN STATE (2004), THE ROYAL TENENBAUMS (2001), HALF NELSON (2006), and AWAY WE GO (2009). Knock yourselves out. Happy New Year!!!

I AM READY FOR A FRESH START...

2009-12-29T13:52:00.000-08:00

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...

2009-12-11T17:31:00.000-08:00

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...

2009-12-11T14:03:00.000-08:00

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...

2009-12-07T13:23:00.000-08:00

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...

2009-12-04T15:39:00.001-08:00

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...

2009-11-16T15:44:00.000-08:00

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...

2009-11-10T15:20:00.000-08:00

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...

2009-11-01T16:12:00.001-08:00

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...

2009-10-27T17:21:00.001-07:00

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)...

2009-10-22T15:20:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-10-16T13:48:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-10-15T15:34:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-09-29T16:42:00.000-07:00

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.

I AM ENDURING...

2009-09-25T15:10:00.000-07:00

Perhaps the SHITTIEST month of my entire life, but I'm back. Let me begin by listing some of the more unfavorable things that have occurred over the past few weeks.

1.) A very close friend of mine nearly had his eye GOUGED out with a set of keys by a very PASSIONATE woman a few weeks ago. Well, he wasn't completely innocent here... He did walk up to the girl's friend at the bar and say, "Two things are gonna happen tonight: One, I'm gonna shove this bar stool up your ASS and TWO, you're gonna give me your number." Classic. Some way to kick off the evening. This was obviously before he realized the woman she was with was somebody we all knew. The best part is the other chick attacked him much later in the night out of her hatred for me, not him. He just lit the match and I on the other hand, completely avoided her and left before the chaos. Although he was acting a bit crass (understatement of the century), I'm not sure if he deserved a WOLVERINE-like assault. He was left with a small shiner, a few scratches next to his eye, and a little less pride. It looked like he was attacked by a MAN-THER... oh yeah, he was.

2.) In the last week of August, my mother was HOSPITALIZED. She had been feeling a bit under the weather, so my father took her to the emergency room. She was there for testing for a few days. I'll tell you what, she's a fighter. I think the maniac even stopped smoking. She says she's been off Newport 100 soft packs for over a month now. My hat goes off to YOU Mommy dearest. I asked her the other day... "Ma, when was the last time you went this long without a smoke?" She answered quickly, "12". I said, "Damn, 12 years, that's a long time without a break." She said, "No kiddo, when I WAS 12, not 12 years ago."

3.) Another friend of mine has a MOVIE coming out this weekend which he wrote and produced. This is a huge accomplishment in my eyes. I had a small part in the film. I thought my scene was pretty funny (as did he), but in the end it just didn't work for the final product, so I was CUT OUT. That's the business, I guess. At least I got paid and learned a lot from the experience, but ending up on the cutting room floor feels about as good as waiting in line at the POST OFFICE.

4.) My BROTHER (who's a head HS Football coach) lost his opener a few weeks back by a large margin. He was TANK CITY. And honestly, so was I since he sounded so optimistic about the season. So, I let him sit on it for a week and he called me the following Friday night all fired up saying they got a huge win. That's a step in the right direction. I'm glad things are going better for him. Good Luck tonight brother... get one for the HOME TEAM.

5.) I auditioned for a huge ROLE in a rather commercial film about a month ago. It was a great opportunity for me to get a break. The casting director called and said she liked me a lot. I thought that was good news. Apparently not, since I read in Variety a few weeks later some kid from the X-MEN movies got the part I auditioned for. Must have been his ability to FREEZE people when he read for the part.

6.) I OVER-DRAFTED from my account once last week... or so I thought. I'd never had this happen before, but be prepared... THE BANK FUCKS YOU BIGTIME WHEN YOU OVERDRAFT. That's why they're so rich. They steal from the poor and give to the rich. Fucking Reverse ROBIN HOOD up in this piece.

I had a check clear for a large sum of cash and I knew I was going to be over my limit by $70 or so. The next morning I immediately put the necessary funds in my bank so they wouldn't get me with more than one fee. Little did I know other charges cleared late at the same time as the check. A total of 6 over-draft fees at 35 bucks a pop. FUCKING SKANK OF AMERICA... I could punch everyone in the face that has ever worked at that DUMP.

I argued to death about getting my money back for being a good customer for many years, but I was only able to get 3 of the charges reversed. Banks do NOT give a shit about their customers. They are LIARS. They say they can't give you the money back, but they can... they just WON'T. The only way to get money back is to go in every day and complain because they will give you one back for every day you complain. If you want your CHEDDAR back you have to work for it. But when you fuck them once; they treat you like a DEADBEAT... And maybe I am one, but I don't give a shit. In the words of the great Cameron Crowe and Jerry Maguire, "What ever happened to a little personal attention?"

7.) I saved the BEST for last. And I'm ending on number 7 because I could go on forever and I've heard this is a lucky number and that's exactly what I need right now... A little LUCK.

On Wednesday afternoon I left work early to go to the Doctor (which could be another entry altogether) and I got home fairly early. Let's say 4:45 or so. I parked my car in the street and not in the driveway cause my roommate was working until 1AM. I figured I wouldn't make him try to find a spot at that hour after a long day.

I walked into my house and got right to work on my writing. I threw my headphones on and the next thing I knew it was MIDNIGHT. My roomie comes into my room shortly after and asks me if I heard what happened to our friend's car who lives next door. I said no. His car was hit while parked in the street right behind mine by some dipshit and knocked onto the curb. Supposedly the accident happened around 5:30PM and there was a police report filed. It was dark out when they finally recognized it so they couldn't assess how much damage was actually done, but they were able to roll the car off the curb. Nobody noticed my car cause it was now parked 25 feet away with two cars in between.

The next morning I walked out to the street ready to start fresh on that beautiful Thursday morning and what do I see... MY FUCKING CAR SMASHED UP LIKE A SLINKY. I was devastated. My 1976 Mustang, my most prized possession, had looked like it fell victim to the LA RIOTS in the early 90's. The Rodney King of cars if you will. The whole back end had been crushed. Whoever hit it had to be going super fast.

The chick who hit it, had first side-swiped my buddy's 4Runner, knocking it onto the curb before crashing into my car, knocking it about 20 feet ahead. My car, in turn, pushed my other neighbor's car parked in front of mine another 15 feet ahead. You have got to be SHITTING ME.

I wound up missing an entire day of work, realizing my insurance sucks ass, and calling a SUICIDE hotline 11 times. It was infuriating. So my friend and I called the girl that hit our cars since she left the information on our windshields. It's not like she had a choice since she completely totaled her car and there were witnesses. She agreed to meet up with us. We walked to her work which was about 5 blocks away. Ironically, she works at a Auto Body Shop, which of course doesn't fix classic cars.

My buddy says to her, "What happened?" She goes on to talk about how she BLACKED OUT. She doesn't remember anything. "It just happened" she said. Your God Damned Right it did. By the way did I mention this girl was 21 years old? Well, she is. So we both say, "We're just glad you didn't get hurt." Even though it took every ounce of my being not to strangle her... I'm thinking, this bitch was definitely on her cell phone TEXTING. All 21 year olds are FULL OF SHIT. She goes on to say, "Don't worry, my insurance will take care of it." HA! Yeah okay little lady. Let me just bend over while everyone FUCKS me in the ASS.

Now I'm battling with her INSURANCE company who won't be sending a CLAIM'S adjuster to check the damage until Monday. That's 5 fucking days after the accident. Are you kidding me? 5 days without a car! I called her Insurance company back this morning and gave the assigned adjuster a piece of my mind, which she did not like one bit. It was like talking to a third grader. At least the people working at the BANK are required to have a HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMA... Obviously these asswipes are NOT. Seriously, these morons couldn't pass a 5th grade English test.

And how about these on the scene COPS? On each of our cars was a parking pass with our addresses on them. You'd think those fucking Jackasses could figure it out and come knock on our doors and let us know that our cars looked like they were out drinking last night after a monster truck rally. Nope. The reason we didn't hear the crash was because it happened on the side street behind our building. It would have been nice for the cops to let us know instead of waking up in the morning and having a pie smashed in my face in the middle of the street. When I first saw it I felt like ACE VENTURA after he figured out Finkel was EINHORN. "EINHORN IS A MAN!!!"

So I know somebody out there has it worse. It's not that bad. I will try to look at the bright side here, but now do you understand why I HATE so many things? Nothing is easy in this life. Some people can't catch a break. That's why we have to make our own... And in that girl's case, she needs to remove her head out of her boyfriend's lap, stop fucking texting and when she's about to get into an accident learn how to use her FUCKING BRAKES... Instead of speeding up and smashing into 3 parked cars on the side of the street. Her license should be taken from her. What a joke.

I AM UNDER NO OBLIGATION...

2009-09-03T14:57:00.000-07:00

To make the world a better place, but I'd like to think I'm TRYING. I try to be nice to people whenever it's humanly possible. I'm always trying to avoid conflict, whether it be in the MIDDLE EAST or in line at the IN-N-OUT Burger (which I love... surprise, surprise). I do all I can to be PATIENT. I try to work efficiently at my job and do the best I can everyday. I've always tried to be a good SON and brother and feel like I've done pretty well. At times I was a pain in the ass as a student, but I always got by and RESPECTED my teachers and elders. This past Sunday night, I RECYCLED every last bottle of beer that was consumed in my house over the weekend. I even paid a bill ONLINE this week to save a stamp for fuck's sake. And when I'm in a relationship, I've tried to be an unselfish boyfriend and simply a GOOD man.

Now with all that being said, I'm not always in the right. I've done disrespectful things. I've JAYWALKED. The fact that Jaywalking is illegal makes me want to SKIN a Congressman. I've hurt people. I've forgotten to recycle. I've cut people off on the freeway. I've lied. I've stolen. I've eaten fried chicken. I've taken advantage of people. I've done things for the wrong reasons. Long story, long... I've done some things I'm not proud of. I'm no ANGEL, nor do I claim to be. Admitting when you're wrong is not always easy, but it's the right thing to do. I know the world isn't all rainbows, roses, and blowjobs, but a little apology goes a long way.

I can't remember why I started writing. It used to be therapeutic. It used to be pure. I used to do it for no good reason at all. Now it has become an obsession with a way to get ahead in the world. But get ahead how? Financially? Maybe. Not likely, but possible. Have people read your work and learn from it? Maybe. Influence others? Maybe. Again, not likely, but possible. Honestly, I don't know why I do it. I think I wanted to inspire others. Perhaps I just wanted some unneeded attention. I do know I wanted to make people laugh. I wanted to make them cry. I wanted to extract any emotion from the reader. It feels good. Most importantly I wanted to light a fire under my ass. And I wanted to be INSPIRED again.

Somewhere along the way I lost my motor. I lost my drive. I lost focus. I began questioning myself. What am I here to do? I came here to pursue a goal most people would call unattainable. I say it's only out of reach if I let it get too far away from me. For a while here, I'd let it slide. But from now on, I refuse to SETTLE. Settling is such a cop out. What does that say about me if I'm letting opportunities slip right through my hands? Not much.

After using this as a mere exercise for me to push through a case of writer's block, I believe I've finally broken through. It's time to cut the shit, get back to work and stick to the original GAMEPLAN. And believe me, my getting back to work will make the world a better place... and the people that surround me a lot happier.

So I will continue to strive to be as patient as a Buddhist Monk. I will drive my roommates hybrid when he doesn't need it. And maybe someday I will get my own. I will try not to kill people riding bikes around town. I will make a conscious effort to recycle more often. I will pay my PARENTS back the $400 they let me borrow when they barely had it to give. And I will stop buying sneakers at an exponential rate to give that 6 year old Indonesian SLAVE LABORER a break.

Apparently I've offended some people with this nonsense. I am not apologizing for my intellectual property. It's my writing, and all I'm doing is being honest. Most likely it has nothing to do with you. I'm not here to make YOU happy. This is my thing, not yours. If you don't want to be a part of my FREE therapy sessions, so be it. If you'd like to tell me to go FUCK MYSELF... By all means, go for it. The best time of the year is upon us... Fall, Football Season, and Halloween will be here before you know it... So I will take it with a grain of salt and a smile on my face. I hope your summer was as good as mine, but I'm glad it's over. Peace and a bottle of hair grease.

I AM NOT MUCH OF A DATER...

2009-08-28T13:41:00.000-07:00

And haven't been for quite some time. No biggy. Well, I had a couple girlfriends in High School, which doesn't really count unless you're from the MIDWEST cause those people all marry their High School Sweethearts. And come to think of it, I had a girlfriend in College for a few years too. But that seems like EONS ago. Since then I've had a series of Dead-End starter relationships that have gone nowhere (all because of me I'm sure) and have done plenty of fooling around on the PATHETICALLY AWESOME single scene. I say it's pathetically awesome because from time to time you feel like a pathetic LOSER on the journey of life all by your lonesome... Especially when you're surrounded by monogamous people. And all of your friends that are in serious relationships enviously think your life of philandering FREEDOM is awesome.

This dating thing has been on my mind lately cause a woman recently said to me, "I think we're better off if we just stay friends." I laughed really hard and said, "If you say so." She was definitely doing me a favor, but I would have appreciated it a lot more if she had said, "That frozen dinner looks great, but hey, I'm no spring chicken and you're a fucking LOSER." That would have been the greatest moment of my life. PURE HONESTY.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Being single is FANTASTIC. It gives you the opportunity to do what everyone dating wants to do, but can't get away with it... be SELFISH. All you have to worry about it yourself. Your bed is YOUR BED. You can make SHEET ANGELS if you feel like it and sleep spread eagle whenever you please. That's the kicker for me. Sharing your bed sucks balls unless the person you are sharing it with is a perfect fit. And when I say perfect fit, I mean perfect SIZE. So if they feel like laying all over you it will feel good... like the the way puzzle pieces fit together... Instead of waking up in the middle of the night with a dead arm and leg. I really hate that pins and needles shit. If I wanted to feel numb; I'd shoot heroin. Maybe I'll just find a woman who likes sleeping on the couch.

I know I brought up a similar topic before about being happily unmarried, but I'm shedding light again because at some point you have to stop being single, right? Maybe. Maybe not. Can you live your entire life on your own? I'm beginning to think I can. Why not? I guess the fulfillment of having a partner is important. It's healthy. I'm just not sure how important it actually is.

Honestly, I think being single is much easier for a man. Nobody pressures you. Your friends don't give a SHIT about you being single. I feel like women long for a partner and their friends don't make things any easier by flashing their diamond rings and vacations in the Caribbean with their "SWEET" men.

The difference between most men and women is simple. Men want to PROVIDE. Men want to be SETTLED. Men want to feel COMFORTABLE. They want SUCCESS. They want MONEY. We want all of these things before we get into a relationship. Basically, we don't want to feel like LOSERS. We don't want to be ashamed of having NOTHING. Women, on the other hand, want all of the previously mentioned things, but they want to go on the long arduous journey toward success or mediocrity with us. And we're too stupid to let them... Well I am.

How stupid is that really? That theory bleeds of intelligence if you ask me. Most women want stability; well not the ones on Jerry Springer, but most do. How the HELL are you going to find stability with a starving artist type? Unless you don't mind eating TOP RAMEN and Pasta until you're 45. You would have to find SOME woman to be willing to go on that great adventure.

Truthfully, there are a lot of women out there willing to do this... I'm just not sure if I am willing to put them through it. That would take a great deal of faith, loyalty, honesty, and courage. So officially, I've been roaming the planet alone going on 7 years now. Well that's not entirely true because I have some great friends that have been along for the ride with me. And it hasn't been that bad. Actually it's been quite an eventful 7 years. So I'm going to continue to not sweat it and neither should you. All I can be is the best that I can be... Without joining the ARMY.

I AM A TALKER...

2009-08-26T14:00:00.000-07:00

So what of it? Maybe I talk too much. Perhaps I should keep my mouth shut, huh? It's possible that I like to hear the sound of my own voice. There's a chance I'm hogging the conversation and not bringing any substance to the table. But maybe it's YOU... Ever think of that? Maybe you have nothing to say. Maybe you enjoy the silence. Maybe you're BORING. Any chance you're jealous of someone with something to say? Maybe you're just afraid you might say something and people will judge you for it. Yeah, that's it. Actually you're probably not smart enough to engage in a fucking simple conversation.

Are friends supposed to hang out in MUTE? You want to go listen to the birds chirping? Even they're talking. Are we supposed to just sit there and hold hands? I'll tell you right now, I'm not going to do that... Unless you are my BABY MAMA and we are watching a movie. Yes, I like to speak, but I also enjoy listening very much. If you are running your mouth for over an hour and everything you say is either FUNNY or INTERESTING... I'm fine with that. I encourage it.

What really CHAFES my crotch is when someone isn't adding anything to a conversation AT ALL and they tell ME I talk too much. Really? You think I'm not giving you a chance to speak, don't you? Not true. You have nothing to inject. And that's okay, but I'm guessing you're not taking in anything anyone else is throwing down. If you did have a topic to address or your own opinion... You would make your point known. You'd tell your joke. Or you'd tell everyone to shut the fuck up so you could have the floor.

I'm not going to beat around the bush here... I come from a chatty family. Most of my friends like to talk it up as well. We all like each other and prefer to actually COMMUNICATE by other means than TELEPATHY. If you don't like it... I don't need to be able to read your mind... TAKE A HIKE.

What's the point of being quiet? Are you going to remember the time you and JONNY DANCEFLOOR just sat there and gazed into each other's eyes? No. But I guarantee you'll remember the time he told you the story about drinking a handle of JACK DANIELS and pissing the bed later that night with his fiance in it. Yeah, I remember that one, and I remember it well.

Okay, I'm a reasonable man. If somebody just died; I'm not doing the diarrhea from the mouth bit. And like I said before, if a movie is playing... I'll be as silent as Helen Keller. I won't talk to you if I see you bound to a fine piece of Literature either, but if you're reading THE ENQUIRER I may call you an ASSHOLE... And walk on by.

Now if I'm talking too much and a close friend or family member tells me to shut the fuck up... I probably will... After I tell them to PISS off. But you know what; I can respect that. Especially when it comes from someone of substance.

I understand the NEED for quiet time. It's definitely not in the bedroom. I'll take as much noise as possible in that scenario. And you know what, I wasn't the kid in grade school getting PINCHED for talking every 5 seconds. I know when to keep my TRAP shut. If I'm in the company of good people, good conversation always follows. And maybe if you think someone is talking too much you shouldn't be friends with them. Or maybe you should LISTEN to them. You might actually learn something. Or maybe you should chime the fuck in and stop being a pussy. And one last note on the bedroom... Nobody likes a DEAD FISH. Personally, I prefer the FISH EYE.

I AM BECOMING SAMURAI...

2009-08-21T21:06:00.000-07:00

That's it. No ifs, ands, or buts. And to be honest, we all should... Especially the COCK-KNOCKERS in this country. Imagine living in an isolated village. No Electricity. No Gas. No Running Water. You fend for yourself. You can raise your own animals for food, grow your own vegetables, and have perfect rice paddies. The best part of this is... YOU don't really do any of these things... the women and children do. All day you train with your SWORD (not a penis joke), read literature, meditate, and walk the grounds protecting your nest. Primitive, yes. But perhaps the way it should be.

The word SAMURAI has many meanings. In feudal JAPAN, it was a class of military aristocracy, or military nobility. Samurai also means HEREDITARY WARRIOR. How would you like to inherit some "WARRIORNESS" instead of a LaZy eye or Alcoholism? During pre-industrial Japan, long before Nuclear weapons and regular guns (what the fuck is a regular gun?), Japanese soldiers protected their country with SWORDS and their BARE HANDS. That was real hand to hand combat. Talk about being scared to go to War... Picture yourself charging the battle field with a heavy, sharp-ass piece of metal and you can only engage from 2 feet away. Does it get any more BAD ASS? No. I would have without a doubt IMPALED myself, but that's just me.

I can't even picture myself wielding a sword. I've wielded my own sword plenty; now it's time to move onto to something metal. I want to learn. Have you ever seen someone handle a sword like a SAMURAI? Me neither, but I bet it's incredibly impressive. Even when I see it in the movies, all I'm thinking while drooling at the screen is, "I want to do what you do"... Like the guy can hear me. Those guys look smooth as ice. Their moves are so fluent and graceful. It reminds me of Johnny (Patrick Swayze) from "Dirty Dancing" whose moves were also smooth and graceful, but would have been a hell of a lot more respectable if he chopped BABY'S head off with SWORD. The same goes for Swayze's character DALTON in "Road House". That guy was a fucking masher... and would have been even cooler if he had a sword to cut Brad Wesley in half... and a mustache might have helped too. Basically what I'm saying is Patrick Swayze should buy a SWORD and he'd be AWESOME. Alright, I'm off Swayze's sac...

In the early 700's AD, there was a law passed in JAPAN after a disastrous military engagement with CHINA stating that the population had to report regularly for census. Once the government had an idea of the actual population, another law was passed saying that 1 and 3/4 males were to be drafted into the military. So pretty much every fucking DUDE in Japan joined or they would have their NUTS chopped off by the EMPEROR. Now by LAW these soldiers had to supply their own weapons and in return they were exempted from taxes. How funny would it be if our government said we had to make our own weapons. Half of our armed forces would quit. Hmm... What if everybody had to make their own weapons... Genius. If you want to carry a weapon, you have to make it yourself. That would be a great law. There would be like 10 weapons... total. We're so fucking LAZY only the kids that went to MIT would be STRAPPED. Trust me, violence would be down... Way down.

I love that making your own weapons stuff. I wouldn't be able to do it, but I'm sure I'd have a blacksmith friend on speed dial. I can see him now... working hard in some little village outside of Tokyo... or Perth Amboy, NJ, I mean... welding my sword to a perfect handle with my name on it.

The actual way of the SAMURAI was a life of DISCIPLINE and HONOR. Words so few people live by these days. A Samurai's duty was to obey their master (teacher) and the EMPEROR himself. Dying was a certainty for these brave men on the battlefield, yet none of them feared it. The Jesuit leader during the 1500's, St. Francis Xavier, said, "There is no nation in the world that fears death less"... speaking of Japan of course... And the reason for that is SAMURAI were the core of the nation.

Samurai looked forward to glorious death in the service of a military leader. This was greatly respected and honored. I'd say this was part of the reason they did not fear death. Now if a Samurai was defeated in battle and not killed... he would take his own life in SHAME. LIVE BY THE SWORD... DIE BY THE SWORD. This was also greatly respected. Nobody thought you were a PUSSY if you fought and lost. But if you didn't die, the only way to keep your STREET CRED was to thrust your own sword into your body. Killing yourself in the SHAME of defeat. How cool is that?! They should do that in pro sports... The two teams left standing would play for a championship. I bet those mother fuckers would play harder then. It could also be a general LAW in the U.S. For example, if you lose a fight at School #19, you had to kill yourself in shame. Or if it was an INTERNATIONAL law... Some country loses a war and the survivors of the defeated have to kill themselves in shame. I bet this would be a more peaceful planet if that were the case.

Let's get something straight... The Samurai are not the AMISH. They are killers, but well read killers that lived peacefully. Samurai were all educated on a much higher level than the commoners. Poetry and many other forms of literature were studied among these warriors. They believed an intelligent and wise soldier had great advantage over the enemy. And as usual they were right.

The first SAMURAI dominated government did not come until around 1185 AD. By that time they had enough economic resources, manpower, and political support to become the military stronghold. So it took a while for these CRUSHERS to come to dominance, but once they reached the top, they stayed there. SAMURAI were a force to be reckoned with in JAPAN for almost 900 years. I wish I would have been around to see it. Well, that and I would've been considered TALL back then.

It all came to an end with the WESTERNIZATION of everything. Technology is awesome, but it also dissolved many great cultures like the SAMURAI. Their ways became primitive overnight with the introduction of the RIFLE. Guns were just too much to handle. So the Samurai relinquished their swords. I'll tell you what though, I bet there are Samurai ancestors living in some mountain village in Japan still practicing the old traditions. And if I ever have enough coin, I'm going to head out there and study them... learn their ways. Not like David Carradine learned them... but actually live among them and become SAMURAI.

I don't have a point here except I admire the culture... And I watched "THE LAST SAMURAI" (which is an awesome and highly underrated film) last night and got all fired up about the SAMURAI culture... So I read up on it. Please check that flick out. Even if you HATE Tom Cruise or ME, it's totally worth it. "I AM BESET BY THE IRONIES OF MY LIFE."

I AM THE DISGRUNTLED RECIPIENT...

2009-08-10T13:18:00.000-07:00

of 2 PARKING TICKETS over the past 5 days. This is some honor... Let me tell ya. 122 SMACKEROOS! Those mother fucking ticket cops or whatever the hell you call them KILL me. I live in a neighborhood where parking passes are required. They have this law so Hippies can't park their Motor Homes in our little beach neighborhood. So you have to get a parking pass from City Hall and you have the option of either getting a sticker for your bumper or a hang-tag for your rearview mirror. You also have to renew the pass ever year and it costs around 30 bucks. I always get the hang-tag.

The worst part about this whole parking situation is that in my complex each unit only has one parking space. So whoever else lives in your house has to park in the street... with a permit. Now this is where it gets tricky. Well for a moron like me apparently it does... STREET CLEANING. On one side of the street you can't park on Tuesday between 11AM-1PM. On the other side of the street you can't park between 11AM-1PM on Wednesdays. And around the corner it's Thursday from 11AM-1PM when parking is prohibited. All these rules... Jesus, I feel like I'm in 3rd grade.

I'm a pretty responsible guy, but every now and again I make mistakes just like anyone else. Once in a while I forget to put up the pass. Let's be honest, I'm fucking human. And humans have a tendency to make mistakes and learn from them, but should I really have to pay $61 for it? Come on ticket fuckers. I've been living there for 2 years. There's no way you haven't seen my car parked there before. It's parked there every fucking day... pretty much in the same spot. Give me a God Damned break. I know you hate your job, but have a heart, would you. I can just see the bastard there now... smiling and thinking I'm an asshole. You're right, but you know what... Eat shit. It's not like you get a commission for how many tickets you give out a month. Nope. Fuck your quota. Furious.

My first ticket came last Wednesday morning. I didn't have to work. The day started out great. I woke up fresh after a good night's sleep, went for a nice run, then came home and made myself a tasty little breakfast. By 11:30AM I realized I forgot to move my car. Fuck. I ran out to the street and there was the blue and white envelope on my windshield that I seriously considered using for toilet paper. One would think the ticket DICK would have some compassion for a dude driving a car that's 35 years old. No chance.

Now I wouldn't have been so mad if I hadn't done this before. I've actually left my car there until 12:30PM one time and I didn't get a ticket. So the fact this guy nabbed me got me enraged. Aren't these shitheads on some type of fixed schedule? Guess not. Another time I had a ticket on my car at 11:01AM. Damn it. Whatever, it was my fault... I was HAD... Again.

This morning I woke up feeling pretty good and ready to start the week, which was surprising because during a DAYRIPPER yesterday I was sipping tequila, grilling lamb chops, and sucking down Corona Lights like they were Fuji water bottles. I have house guests for the week, so before I left I was instructing them to be careful about parking. "Make sure you put the hang-tag in your rearview... they're real sticklers around here..." Yada, Yada... They say "No problem." I walked out the door with a smile on my face and headed for my car parked in the street.

When I turned the corner of the street I saw a ticket on my windshield. I furiously ripped it from the grasp of my wipers and was looking at it like it just banged my Mother. WHY ON EARTH DID I GET A TICKET? I was so heated I couldn't even read it. I crumbled it up like I just got WAIT LISTED at a Community College in North Dakota and threw it into my car. As soon as I sat down in the driver's seat I noticed that I'd forgotten to put up the hang tag up last night. I picked up the ticket and sure enough... PREFERENTIAL PARKING TICKET. Another $61 down the drain. I might as well have set the money on fire. I could have used that $61 to get my charcoal grill started yesterday... Then at least the money would have went to good use. Those scumbags. I LIVE HERE! I am an idiot should have been the title of this entry. Usually you can get away without having the tag in your car if you move if before 10AM and it was 9:30 when I was leaving. Damn I was pissed. Man, a ticket can really ruin your day.

Driving to work all I could think of was how many points I would get if I ran over one of those ticker fuckers. Like 10 for squirrel, 30 for a skunk (minus 10 for the stink), and 200 for a ticket fucker. It was probably a good thing I didn't see one because I would most likely be posting this from BEHIND BARS if I had. The lesson here for me was get the sticker instead of the hang tag next time around. But with my luck somebody would scrape it off of my bumper. Cocksuckers. When I pulled up to work I was so pissed, that I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the rearview mirror and one thing made me forget all about it... I still have a MUSTACHE. Nice. I hope your week started out better than mine and if not, grow a Stache... it takes all the pain away.

I AM ROCKING...

2009-08-07T12:35:00.000-07:00

a MUSTACHE at the moment. This coveted facial hairstyle is something that I've always admired, but never had the balls to grow. Which is humorous because I've had facial hair since the 7th grade. I'm not sure why I haven't done it before. Was I embarrassed? Maybe I didn't want to look like John Holmes or some other corny porn star from the 80's. That's silly because they weren't the only ones. Who wouldn't want to look like a quick-draw COWBOY from the WILD WEST or one of those crafty Mexican Mariachi guys? I know I do.

I remember back in college, my roommate (RAINMAN) used to LOVE mustaches... I MEAN LOVE THEM. He always called anybody with a Stache (including his Dad who always has one), a MASHER. He said he couldn't wait to be able to grow one. Unfortunately he never got any facial hair or hit puberty for that matter. He's now happily married and still waiting patiently for his facial hair to come in and for his idol CHEVY CHASE to grow a stache so that he can ditch his wife and marry him. Anyway, Rainman had no idea what he was missing. Facial hair is fun for parties, acting, and especially advantageous on HALLOWEEN. It always works in your favor if you want to dress as the great American distance Runner from Oregon, STEVE PREFONTAINE (as I did 2 years ago), or Paul Bunyun, but the razor burn and itchy BeardZO can be a pain in the ass. So maybe he lucked out with a face like a baby's backside... but I don't think so.

Before I get too deep into the Stache, let me mention a few notable BAD-ASSES that have rocked them proudly over the years. DENNIS ECKERSLEY. For those of you that don't know who "THE ECK" is, let me drop some knowledge in your direction. This guy had success as a starting pitcher in Major League Baseball in the 70's and 80's with the Cleveland Indians, Boston Red Sox, and Chicago Cubs. But his true fame came as a closer with the Oakland A's. He was the equivalent of Rick Vaughn in Major League played by Charlie Sheen... except much cooler and with a Mustache. This guy was a machine on the mound. His closing skills helped him slide into the HALL OF FAME without question. I mention him first because CLOSER and MUSTACHE are synonyms. Anyone sporting the stache is a CLOSER. Period.

CHUCK NORRIS. Need I say more. Has anyone ever seen "Delta Force"? Or "Sidekicks" for that matter? This guy CAN get McDonalds breakfast after 10:30AM. No bullshit, the dude doesn't do push ups... He pushes the world DOWN. I stole those last 2 comments from chucknorrisfacts.com... Brilliant website by the way.

TOM SELLECK. His stache is thick as SHIT! This masher was MAGNUM PI for Christ's sake. He also had no problems later in his career scoring Courtney Cox on "Friends" which I thought was cool as hell. I'm not saying I want his career as an actor, but that stache had the panties hitting the floor in a hurry. My film recommendation for Selleck is the thriller "RUNAWAY" released in 1984, but you probably know him best from "3 Men and a Baby".

MY UNCLE TONY. The guy has been a High School Football coach in New Jersey for more than 30 years. He's had more success over there than Vince Lombardi. He's pretty much the MAYOR of his town. I don't think I've ever seen the guy without a stache... and it's fucking ICE.

Speaking of ICE... How about TOM SKERRITT? Call Sign "VIPER" ring a bell? Ever seen a little movie called "TOP GUN"? That guy could be my wingman anytime. Especially after "Poison Ivy" when he knocked the bottom out of Drew Barrymore.

MARK GARDNER. This man roamed the same streets in Jersey City that may Dad frequented. He's also the Father of one of my best friends. Any truck driver that respects my old man and comes from the same neighborhood is a certified Bad Mother Fucker. His mustache has been holding strong since his son and I learned to tie our shoes together back in 85.

Okay, enough. The best part about a Mustache is that it was popular in the 60's and 70's. A time when the sex was thought to be clean and the air was beginning to get dirty. Back then, nobody gave a shit. Gas prices were less than 60 cents... Woodstock was on the horizon... I would have been running around with a stache shouting "Who wants a mustache ride?" out of sheer joy! Today, people can't look at you with a straight face when you are sporting a Stache. People have been looking at me like I have 8 heads. Perhaps they're staring at my extremely large forehead. Other people have said to me, "Damn bro, that stache is the shit." Tell me something I don't know asshole... And did that guy just BRO me?

So the question is raised... When is it appropriate to rock a mustache? Am I too young? Am I too old? Truth be told... I don't give a fuck. I say it's always appropriate. I think it looks old-school and it suits me driving around in my old-school 70's whip. Feel free to rock one even if you are driving around in a brand new ROLLS. It's still sweet.

Some people think mustaches are weird, or creepy. Well for some people they are if you're pacing back and forth at the playground outside a local Middle School. It wasn't creepy for Josh Brolin in "American Gangster"... That guy looked like a maniac. "Have a nice trip back to Jersey." I loved it. Not for BILL THE BUTCHER either, played to perfection by Daniel Day Lewis in "Gangs of New York"... That guy single-handedly made me want to have a mustache for the rest of my life. I don't care what anyone says... That performance is one of the best ever captured on film. He owned it. Day Lewis is one of the best actors to ever walk the Earth.

Now the funny thing about rocking a stache is that I never noticed many people having them before. Now that I have one... I've seen 40 guys over the last 4 days pulling it off... well at least trying to. And last night when I came home, my roommate had a friend over that said, "What's with the guys I know having mustaches? I've seen at least 4 of my friends over the past few days with one." I'm not going to lie, that made me want to cut it off immediately. Thank God I didn't.

So how long will I rock it? Not sure. I don't mind looking like a corrupt New York cop from the 70's. I know for sure that it would make my Mother pee her pants. Especially with the long hair and one of those paper boy caps my Dad used to wear. The Stache is awesome cause it turns you into a SUPER HERO. I feel like I could close a game for the A's throwing a 98 mph fastball right down the pipe, spin kick somebody in the jugular, hook up with a "Friends" cast member, take down Iceman and Slider from below the hard deck, and win a State Championship all at once. I guess what I'm getting to is, support the stache. Take it seriously. But if you choose to have a few laughs at it's expense, know this... It's CLOSING time.

I AM A GODFATHER...

2009-07-29T12:02:00.000-07:00

Not "THE" GODFATHER, but "A" GODFATHER nonetheless. As of 2:03PM on Tuesday, July 28th, a baby boy was brought into this world by two of the finest people on the planet. His name is John Chase Tompkins. My best buddy's beautiful wife went through 20 hours of labor before the little champ spontaneously combusted... tipping the scales at a slim fighting weight of 6 pounds, 12 ounces.

I've always said I would be prepared for this moment. The moment in which one of my BEST friends had a child and decided to make me a permanent part of his or her life. I'll have to admit, I was not. Obviously I've known they were expecting a child for quite some time and when they asked me to be the Godfather I was speechless... Honored. I felt touched that somebody thought of me in such high regard. I couldn't wait for the time to come when I would be able to spoil the little guy rotten... And that time has come.

I knew I wouldn't be the first of my friends to have a child. I knew I would be one of the last to be married. What I didn't realize, was that I would be one of the first to be a GODFATHER. Holding this title is a very serious responsibility. Does anyone really know what it means to be a God Parent? It means that if God forbid anything happened to my beloved friends, I would be first in line to look after the little chap.

I have to tell you; I get choked up just thinking about it. I can't wait to hold him. I can't wait to teach him about music, sports, movies, and GIRLS. I can't wait to do my Ray Liotta impersonation from "GOODFELLAS" and have the kid look at me like I'm a maniac. It's going to be awesome.

One thing I have to say about babies, is that they bring out the best in MOST people. It doesn't matter how tough you are, cause as soon as you hold a baby you immediately turn into a giant fluff of cotton candy. You become Mr. Softy. It's amazing and hilarious. One second you're walking around cursing, acting like an idiot and then suddenly there's a baby in your hands and you're bopping around, making baby talk and being all sweet. I love it.

I'm so happy for my friends... And even happier for that little boy. He is going to have the best parents in the WHOLE world. A life of love and joy awaits him. I just can't wait until he's old enough to realize it.

So now that I hold this title... I need to get my SHIT together... excuse me STUFF... I'm not allowed to curse in front of the baby. This is somewhat of an AWAKENING for me. It's a reality check. I need to hurry up and get cracking... actually make something of myself. This kid can't have a BUM for a Godfather. I won't let that happen.

My God Parents are fantastic people... Especially my Godmother. She is my Mom's best friend from childhood. She was always there for me when I was a kid. When I was sick in grade school and my Mom couldn't leave work to come get me (although she would have), I called Aunt Sandy. She would be there in an instant. She was unbelievable. We spent many Holidays with her family. Christmas Eve and New Years Eve were the best. She threw the best parties. She always kept her family together. It was a great example to see even at a young age. She was the best host. She loved her kids like no other and always treated us like we were a part of HER family. She was great to me... still is. And for that I will be forever grateful. Thanks Aunt San... you're the world's greatest Godmother. I just hope I can do as good as you did with my Godson.

So from this day forth, I promise to be a better man. If not for my own sake, for my Godson's. I will make sure that I know him completely. I will make sure I am always a part of his life. I will be there through thick and thin... And set the best example that I possibly can for the little whipper snapper. I can't wait to buy him a little JETS jersey.

This entry goes out to WILL and MANDY... My best friends. My FAMILY. I admire you guys a great deal. You're my idols. Congratulations on the birth of your beautiful baby boy. I wish the 3 of you health and happiness during the fun days that lie ahead. I LOVE YOU GUYS.

I AM IN A PERSONAL RECESSION...

2009-07-26T18:17:00.000-07:00

and headed into a downward spiral. These next few months are going to be tough... real tough. Finances are tighter than they've been in a while. I'm shitting my pants over here. It happens. Good thing I always keep BABY WIPES on hand. I should probably start carrying a fresh pair of undies with me as well. Maybe if my friends back East would stop getting MARRIED, I would have more money... And I wouldn't be complaining. You fucks. Love you guys. Send me a check ASAP. Thanks.

A few years back I was depressed. I had very little money and I'd been out here almost 2 years... I was just off of a landscaping gig and working part-time at a toy store. All I had at the time were 2 short films in the can. Needless to say, I hadn't accomplished much. I thought my dreams were coming to an end. Then I got an awesome job working on a film... And for the first time in my life, I had MONEY. It was great. I was eating Sushi 5 times a week like Jeremy Piven. I could go out whenever I wanted. Man those were the days.

About a year after that... the money ran out. That tends to happen when you don't have a steady job paying you a lot of money. So I took a full time job to pay the bills and support my nasty habit of actually LIVING. Finally, I had some financial stability, but that never lasts long when you want to enjoy your life. So enjoying my life became my new job and the money continued to dwindle away. And then once again... the depression set in. Fucking money... I love to hate it... Love to have it.

So I started to slow down. I started to save. I wasn't doing that bad. I was being smart. Now I'm not saying I was doing GREAT, but I live a very minimalist life... I don't require much to be happy. It was nice. Then I got another job on a film. My part wasn't significant, but the money it paid me was... for me at least. Once again I had some reserves in the money department. Before I knew it, I got a raise at my full time gig. The savings were beginning to look bright. Time passed. There was once again Sushi in my belly quite often. I could treat my friends to dinner and or drinks, which meant I was smiling a lot. Then... this fucking RECESSION set in.

As a result, I had to take a pay-cut while those fuckheads on Capitol Hill continued to make BANK and Big Businesses were still bringing in millions, robbing us like the Jesse James Clan. My money began to disappear. Bills added up. I proceeded to enjoy my life. So much that eventually all I had in my hand was my DICK... And a few nickels, a penny, and 2 dimes in the other hand, which I had to use for the meter outside the movie theater so that didn't do me any good. One penny left. Fuck.

I HATE THE RECESSION. I'm sick of hearing about it. It's bullshit. The GOVERNMENT tells us we may have a Depression upon us. And since we're idiots, we stop spending. We only do that because those dipshits over-spend and due to all the media coverage about it no one goes shopping. It never ends. They talk about it every fucking day. Enough already. If we didn't hear about it every day people would be out wasting money like always. Imagine if we all didn't live like greedy, gluttonous assholes... the country would always be in a Recession.

They want us to be greedy. They want us to over-spend. Otherwise we wouldn't be the most powerful country in the world. The government has just as much control over us as that maniac in North Korea does over his minions. Look, I love my country and I wouldn't want to live anywhere else, but the shit the government pulls is a joke. It's as if they SCARE the SHIT out of us every 10 or 20 years to keep us in LINE. Keep me in line? FUCK YOU. I'll do whatever the hell I want... with or without money.

I have no one to blame for my own recession/depression but myself. Now the country's recession is your fault, not mine. I didn't change my ways. I spent the money. That's the bottom line. I made some bad decisions. I also made some good ones. And let me tell you... I had some great times along the way. This time I'm not going to get down. I REFUSE to let THEM win. I can't be beat. This time I'm going to produce a product that people want, instead of sitting on my ASS and worrying about it. And all the while I'll be enjoying myself in the POORHOUSE. In the meantime, I'm sure something will come up for me. It always does. And if not, I will make it come up. And you... Yeah you... Go out and buy some shit... Cause "Sometimes you just have to say... What the fuck." ... And I need a raise.

I AM A RAY OF SUNSHINE...

2009-07-24T14:34:00.000-07:00

Not a NEGATIVE NANCY. I'm just calling it like I SEE IT... Not how YOU see it. So to take some of the pressure off before the weekend commences, I will enlighten you with some of the many things I LOVE... whether you like it or not.

1.) PECAN PIE. God I love it. Especially on THANKSGIVING. There's nothing better than having a big slice of Pecan Pie with a tall glass of milk. No doubt it will put you in a coma after 14 courses of Thanksgiving dinner, but everybody has the next day off so you should definitely do it. You can sleep it off.

2.) HOT GREEN TEA and COFFEE ICE CREAM. Not together of course, but individually they are both fantastic. I'm not a coffee drinker, so nothing kicks off my day better than a fresh cup of Green Tea. That shit is ridiculously revitalizing. It makes you feel fantastic. I also enjoy sipping on it while I dine on some SUSHI. Now Coffee Ice Cream will be the end of me, I swear. That BEN AND JERRY'S Coffee HEATH Bar Crunch will knock you on your ass it's so good. I will eat that shit until I have a stomach ache any day of the week. It's totally worth it.

3.) SUSHI. I never feasted on this fantastic food until I was 24 years old. Nobody in my family ever ate it. Now I can't get enough of the stuff. My roomie's Step-Dad owns maybe the best sushi restaurant on the PLANET. It's called SUSHI YASUDA in New York City on 43rd between 2nd and 3rd. The place is off the hook. If you're ever in New York... Hit it up. I promise you'll leave this place higher that you've ever been in your life. My recommendations in LA are... HAMA, which is Downtown on 2nd in Little Tokyo and OOMASA, which is the best moderately priced sushi in town... Also located Downtown in Little Tokyo on 1st. Some sushi eating tips... Sit at the Sushi Bar if you can so you can watch the chef at work. It's glorious. Also, don't mix your wasabi with your soy sauce... the chef will think you are an amateur. If you do that you probably eat a lot of rolls. Put the wasabi directly on the fish and eat it with your hands. That's how the Japanese do it, so why not follow along and respect their culture. I rarely eat rolls. Only Sushi and Sashimi. Rolls defeat the purpose of enjoying the natural flavor and cut of the beautiful fish. Some of my favorites are Halibut, Yellowtail, Red Snapper, Spanish Mackerel, Needle Nose Fish, and Albacore. If you eat sushi, and haven't had any of these you should have your head examined immediately.

4.) SCOTTY BUM DOT. I love this guy. Believe you me, the dude is hilarious. He's one of my best buddies from college. I've stolen his lines a few times on here and I have to give credit where it's due. So before I make like titties and bounce... "Which one of ya'll white bitches is gonna..." Thanks Scotty, you can finish that line cause my MOM reads this thing. You the man.

5.) COOKING. I love cheffing it up for friends, family, and myself. Everyone in my family is an EXCELLENT cook. My brother is an ANIMAL in the kitchen. My Mom doctor's up the Italian classics like none other and my Old Man makes the best London Broil and Meat Loaf you've ever tasted. I love grilling Pork Chops, Portobello Mushrooms, Skirt Steak and a variety of seasoned vegetables. But my absolute favorite thing to cook is my Mother's Sunday Sauce for Macaroni. If you're Italian, or from the East Coast you know what I'm talking about... if not, too bad. Everyone in my family makes some variation of her recipe with their own respective twists. I use fresh heirloom tomatoes, basil and vidalia onions. I make a puree with them and add it as I cook the sauce on the stove for about 6 hours. All while pan frying meatballs, sausage, and baby back ribs that I add to the sauce as soon as they come off the pan. Then, I either make some baked ziti or the pasta of your choice. I like Angel Hair... but that's just me.

6.) READING. People should read more... including me. There's nothing like getting your hands on a good BOOK. A book can make you feel great... feel terrible... feel tired... Especially when it's sitting on your night-stand and you can't wait to get home from work and read it and pass out in the middle of a page. I love that. Some of my favorite books of all time are... THE LORDS OF DISCIPLINE by Pat Conroy, HOLLYWOOD ANIMAL by Joe Eszterhas, TIMEQUAKE by Kurt Vonnegut, and of course THE CATCHER IN THE RYE by JD Salinger.

7.) MY FRIENDS. I can't live without you guys. I'd lay down in traffic for most of you, not all, but some. You just can't beat getting together with a bunch of your friends (especially ones you haven't seen in a while) after a long week of work to have some drinks. The comedy that comes from those type of days is priceless.

8.) WOMEN. I may not understand them, but I sure do LOVE them. Tall or short... red, white, or blue... black, yellow or brown... I love you. You are interesting characters and I will spend my entire life learning as much as I can about you while watching "THE VIEW" (I love Joy Behar and Whoopi Goldberg) fully comprehending that I will never truly understand you. But know this... I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU... like the Whitney Houston song from "The Bodyguard" that she ripped off from some country singer.

9.) RUNNING. I can't imagine not running... or working out at all. It's the best stress reliever there is. Nothing like hitting the road with your own two feet. A little music in your ears is never frowned upon while partaking in this hobby. What I like best, is when I'm on my path jogging I somehow always realize there's nothing out there but SPACE AND OPPORTUNITY. Running can help keep you sane. Trust me, it's the only reason I'm not posting this blog from a rubber room right now.

10.) SHOES. SNEAKERS. This one is bad. I'm like Carrie Bradshaw when it comes to kicks. If I drop dead tonight in my sleep, when the coroner comes to get my body he's going to say, "This little bastard has way too many pairs of shoes." And if I wasn't already dead, I'd bet my life on it that if he wears a size 10, he's walking out of there with at least 3 pairs. The thing is, I wear most of them. And they're not all one kind... I have Nike, Reebok (Classics), Adidas, DC, Etnies, Saucony, Ben Sherman, Jordans, Diadora, Quicksilver, and Converse lining the shelves of my closet. Variety is the key... especially when you have 50 pairs of sneaks.

11.) PIZZA. By far my favorite food. Any food that's good even when it's bad is obviously AWESOME. Pizza is always a fall back. Even frozen pizza is good. Now for REALLY good pizza, which is incredibly hard to find out here in Cali, you have to hit Brooklyn, New York City, New Jersey, Queens, Long Island and Staten Island. The best pizza on earth is found in those places. FACT. Yes you can get good pizza in Chicago and Philly but nothing beats those other spots. I know you folks from LA hate this, but the PIZZA here sucks. There are a few spots that aren't that bad and from those my number 1 recommendation is Joe's Pizza in Santa Monica. The slices are really good if you get them in the shop. Delivery is suspect.

So you see, there are a few things out there that I like. I'm just being HONEST over here... So Choke on it.

I AM A HATER...

2009-07-23T16:10:00.000-07:00

just as much as the next guy. Here are a few of the things I can't stand. I'll try not to over do it... If that's even possible...

1.) People riding BIKES on the ROAD. Why the fuck do they have to follow the same laws as drivers? It's ridiculous. Every time I see a biker in a lane on the street they're just causing traffic. I hate it when they get mad at you for driving around them or cutting them off. Hey, FUCK you pal... get on the sidewalk and avoid pedestrians. What am I supposed to do wait for you when your max speed is 30 mph? If not on the sidewalk, can you please stay as far to the right of the road as possible? It's not that hard. This hatred includes Motorcycles as well. First, I hate them cause they're so dangerous. These jerks think they're awesome cause they can BUZZ by me on the Freeway? Negative. All somebody has to do is make a slight move and you're a GONER. Sometimes it pisses me off so much I just want to open my door and watch one of those bastards go flying. Just so you all know, I don't mind bikes on a BIKE PATH. Like the ones that run the length of the beach towns from Santa Monica and Malibu down to Redondo Beach. That's fine, just stay off the road. I'm all for being GREEN, but don't be an asshole, huh? I'm sick of my blood boiling when a Motorcycle flies by me on the freeway when I'm in gridlock... It's not fair.

2.) People that are singers... that never stop SINGING. Put a fucking lid on it. We KNOW you can sing. We know you have a great voice. But we don't want you to break into song while we're cooking dinner or when we're watching a movie or especially when we're reading a book. Zip it! Singing is for the studio, the stage, drunk people, and the fucking shower. Feel free to belt it out while you're getting ZEST-FULLY clean. Otherwise... Got you at a 10... Need you at a 0.

3.) Women that say they're not going to HAVE SEX with you tonight. HAHAHAHA. Maybe it's a first date, maybe a second... but let me assure you... THIS ALWAYS MEANS THEY WANT TO AND THEY WILL. Not to sound like a rapist here, but if they didn't want to sleep with you, they'd just say GOODNIGHT and leave. This has never happened to me, I swear... I heard about it on the radio.

4.) People that are constantly bashing ACTORS. Like this one sucks, that guy can't act... this girl is annoying. TERRANCE HOWARD isn't at Kinko's saying you SUCK at making copies is he? Nope. I talk shit too, but not as often as others. You think you can act? Show me. I want to see you get up on stage and perform or crush a monologue on a set full of people when the lights go on and the cameras start rolling. What's even worse is an actor trashing another actor that is GOOD. You're obviously jealous of them. Cut the Shit... If you're good enough, your time will come.

5.) People that smoke so much POT and think it's not affecting their brain function. Look, I'm all for anything in moderation, but seriously... Where are your keys? Where is your wallet? Where is your phone? I bet you can't find any of that shit. Exactly.

6.) People that talk about SPORTS when they have no idea what the HELL they're talking about... Especially women. Come on. Do I pretend to know about finance or interior design? No, I don't. It's okay that you don't like sports. I don't get it, but really... you don't have to pretend. It's alright, I promise. I still want to take you to a ball game and watch you cheer and drink beers with me. Just don't be a phony.

7.) People that can't SWIM. This one kills me. Are you SHITTING me? Get in the God Damned water already. It's not that hard. I understand being afraid of what's in the water, but that's another issue altogether. If you are a teenager or an adult and you can't SWIM, I suggest you head to the local Y for some lessons right after you slap both of your parents in the face with a FILTHY GYM SOCK.

8.) Women that smoke. Hey, I don't mind if you crank an occasional HEAT-ROD when you're boozing, but if you're huffing on 2 packs of BUTTSKIS a day... BEAT IT SISTER. If I wanted to make out with an ashtray I'd lick the top of my cooler out on our balcony that my loving roommate so conveniently turned into HIS cemetery for Parliament Lights. Let me be clear here and say I don't hate ALL women that smoke, I'm just saying I wouldn't date one that did. One night stand... Make out buddy... that's another story. Smoke em if you got em.

9.) J-DATE. I HATE IT. For those of you that don't know what this is... It's an Online Dating Service for Jews and creepy people pretending to be Jews so they can meet and make WHOOPIE with Jews. Wow, that sentence has to go into the Guiness Book of World Records for the most uses of the word Jew. I mean seriously... go to jdate.com right now... please do it. I want you to look at these poor schmucks. It's hilarious. I already hate Online Dating as is, but why do the Jews have to stick together and be all pompous like that? It's kind of weird, don't you think? I absolutely hate it when I hear my Jewish girlfriends yapping about their J-DATES and their profiles and their pictures. It makes me want to KILL myself. And if you were wondering, I don't hate the Jews... my best friend is one... Although I do feel like BORAT right now after writing that.

10.) People that are OVER-WEIGHT... and wearing unusually tight clothes. Look I'll be the first one to admit that I've rocked some small t-shirts, but I'm a little guy... not some 250lb chick sporting a BELLY shirt. I don't give a fuck how old you are. 15 year old girls shouldn't be wearing belly shirts whether they're fat or supermodels. It hurts my feelings when a young fat kid is walking around with their gut hanging out. It's not aesthetically pleasing. It's quite offensive to be perfectly honest. Does it make you feel good to show the big TIRE wrapped around your waist? I sure hope so because I'm dying over here, yet I can't turn my eyes away. Maybe I'm a prick and these people feel comfortable in their own skin. Good for you, but nobody wants to see a cottage cheese ass... so cover yourself up... unless you're on the beach... cause anything goes there.

Okay that's enough dislikes for one day. I don't want to put myself in the TANK. I'm sure I'll be back with more... I need to lay down.

I AM A STUDENT...

2009-07-22T18:14:00.000-07:00

of LIFE. I try to learn something new everyday. Today I learned it costs a lot of money to fix an old CAR. Last weekend I was a groomsman in a Catholic/Jewish wedding. It was so JERSEY... I loved it. There, I learned you can have a HOOPA and an ALTAR in the same place and no one will STONE the people standing before the two religious structures. The Priest and Rabbi conducting the ceremony were a team. They have some gig going. They marry tons of couples like this and make a serious killing. Genius. Maybe I should get ordained... On the 4th of JULY I learned that smashing tomatoes on the walls of your friend's house is NOT COOL. And recently I learned people will say anything to hurt your feelings when they're angry with you.

Over the years I've learned a few other things... Avoid borrowing money from people at all costs. It's a fucking nightmare. Also avoid lending money to people. It just turns you into and even bigger asshole than you already are. Well, it's nice to be able to help someone out, but when times are tough it's just stupid.

Money IS the root of all evil whether you have it or not. If you have a lot of it... people want a piece of what's yours. If you have nothing... you envy those that have a great deal of CASHOLA. It sucks either way, but I'm sure we'd all rather be on top than in the gutter.

What I'm learning on this long arduous journey to the top of the financial food chain (or to living in a sleeping bag on State Street up in Santa Barbara) is that it's hard to take big risks when you start at ZERO. It tests every ounce of your being. The constant struggle can only make you stronger, right? I don't know. I mean what is the reason for all of this? Why do we want to make so much money? To be HAPPY? Or is it about accomplishing something great in your lifetime and doing what it is that you NEED to do? But does money really bring happiness to your life? I'm sure your anxiety levels drop a few notches in some areas and are raised in others. Like... Did you set the alarm on the front door? Did you check the Picasso in the den before you got in bed? Did the butler wax the Bentley? Is the Valet going to be careful with my Porsche? These are problems I haven't faced. I know when I Valet my car, I throw the keys toward the Valet stand and all of the attendants DUCK. I love that. I'm just worried one of my keys will fall off the chain.

Since I've been in LA, I've had some highs and lows both financially and mentally. But fuck it... All I can do is push through. I know that this is the time of my life I'll remember the most. I'm trying to cherish these moments while I still can. You can learn a lot about yourself when you want something in LIFE. Like how far you are willing to go to get it. How hard are you willing to work? That is the question. Remember, there's always someone out there working harder. That's how you have to look at it. Otherwise the race is over.

So there's no surprising lesson here... Except drive a new car if you can afford one. And drive an old one if you can afford to fix it. Otherwise be ready to get off your ass and walk. Also you can say MAZEL TOV and crush glass in front of an altar and everyone is happy on both sides of the family. And maybe you should make enough money so you can give it away as a gift instead of a loan... then everyone wins. And keep this in mind... It's not really about the money. It's about doing whatever you want to do with YOUR life. Whatever makes YOU happy. And finally, enjoy the the hard times because they're the most fun and apparently it's lonely at the top. See you there. Lonely in 2010... Who's coming with me?

I AM OFFENDED...

2009-07-08T11:11:00.000-07:00

When a man carries condoms on him... and I'm a dude. Really guy? Are you so sure that you might get laid at work? Maybe in the cafeteria? Perhaps you're going to get some cheeks in the bathroom at the SUPERMARKET? You may be thinking to yourself, "Well it's okay for a man to carry condoms when he's at a bar or out on the town, right?" No, absolutely NOT. That's even worse. Why do you think 7ELEVEN is open 24 hours a day? I'm sure there is a gas station near by or a 24 hour CVS open that will have mini raincoats for your QUARTER INCH KILLER between your legs.

Remember when we were kids and boys used to carry a single condom in their wallets? Yeah, I never went through that phase. That was for losers. Those same guys (well not all of them as you will learn later) are still carrying around that condom in their wallet today hoping the day will come when they can use it. By the way my man, it's probably expired... you should check the date before you strap that thing on. It probably looks like a piece of ALPINE LACE SWISS CHEESE.

Like everything else, there's a story behind my hatred for a man that carries condoms. And it's not the time I was visiting a friend at his school while we were in college. On that particular occasion, we were waiting in line to get into a PACKED bar dicking around. Once we got in, one of my friends jumped on my back and the 12 condoms I had in my jacket pocket spilled onto the floor. The music stopped. Everyone went silent. Then... they all laughed hysterically. I just said, "Hey, it's better to be safe than sorry." Everyone laughed again. The only reason I was carrying condoms was because everyone at the party said they were getting laid that night no matter what, so I volunteered to be the condom dispenser... as a joke. I haven't carried a condom on me since.

Now let me get to the REAL reason I loathe this practice. Over a year ago I was seeing this nice young woman. She and I had been HANGING out for about 2 months. I hadn't had what you would call a TRADITIONAL girlfriend in years, but this was the first girl in quite some time that I was focusing on. I wasn't interested in anyone else. I wasn't messing around. She appeared to be completely into me as well. She introduced me to her folks and brought me over to their house numerous times. Her brothers actually didn't hate me, even when she said they hated every other guy she dated. At this point, I even had a box of condoms that I bought in her night-stand drawer next to her bed for PETE'S sake. So I thought everything was cool and we were moving along quite nicely.

By this time, she had met most of my friends and I had met hers. We were spending maybe 4 nights a week together... which in my book is A LOT. And for the record, I don't normally do that. She was always inviting me to things and saying how much she liked me... blah, blah, blah. One night, she said one of her best friends was coming back into town the following day. She explained that they were going to have dinner and drinks and that she would call me after. The next day she called me and said, "Hey I'm leaving now for dinner... I will call you after and we can hook up later." I said, "Okay, have fun... be safe."

When midnight rolled around and I hadn't heard from her; I didn't act like a jealous boyfriend by texting or calling her a hundred times. I left her alone. I figured she was having a good time and she would give me a shout the next day. So I went to bed. I'm not going to lie; as I was laying in bed I thought... "She's definitely banging this dude... or maybe something happened to her?" But, I still didn't contact her. I was making a point by not calling her that it was time for me to grow up and start trusting other human beings. Isn't that silly?

The next morning at work I was still in the dark. No contact. Radio silence. The whole morning I was thinking... "And I thought we said we would be honest... she definitely HUMPED this peasant." Normally she would text or IM me when she got to work and we would wish each other a good day and have some witty banter. But not this day.

Around NOON I got an Instant Message from her on my computer saying, "Guess what has two thumbs and got 6 stitches in her mouth last night?" Wow! What an asshole I am! The whole time I thought she was rolling around naked in a pile of hay with this joker and she actually did get hurt. So I call her and ask if she's okay and if there's anything I can do. She says she wants to hang out at her place later that night. I tell her as soon as I get off work I will stop at the store and grab some yogurts and some soup. I wanted to go over there and make her dinner. She said, "You're the nicest guy ever... that's so sweet... I'd love that." I say no problem and I'll even bring over a funny movie for us to watch. She says, "Great, I can't wait."

I show up at her house around 7:30pm, groceries in hand. She greets me at the door with a hug and a kiss. We get into her condo and I put the food in her refrigerator. I ask her what she wants. She's not hungry. She just wants to watch the movie. I say "Sure... but what the hell happened to you?" She goes on to explain that early in the evening at the restaurant she got a little tipsy. By the time her sandwich came she was drunk. She took one bite and didn't even realize there was a toothpick sticking out of the sandwich. BOOM! Right through the bottom of her tongue. Ouch. She told me it was bleeding profusely for a while, but didn't care becasue she had been drinking. So she let it go until the next morning when she woke up and her mouth was throbbing. She immediately went to the doctor, got stitched up, and headed to work.

So the movie ends and she says she's going to VEGAS that weekend with some friends and she has to pack. She asks me if I want to help... and like an idiot I say "Okay". Mind you, I'm walking around her house in MESH shorts and nothing else. We get into her room and I jump onto the bed. She starts pulling outfits from her closet. And the first dress she pulls out is a skimpy sequins number. She asks, "What do you think?" I say, "I think if you wear that you're definitely getting laid." I laughed. She didn't. And if you know my sense of humor, you'd know I was totally kidding. She knew it. Then she walked over to the bed and put the dress down. She said she had to tell me something. I said... "Here we go... what's up?" She goes on to say that she hooked up with her friend. I say, "HOOKED UP"? or "HAD SEX"? Immediately she put her head down. I knew it. I said, "Thanks a lot pal." So I began gathering my things, picking up socks off the ground, my computer... and headed for the door. She followed. Trust me this was much funnier in person.

She keeps asking me why I'm not saying anything. I couldn't find the words. I walked into the kitchen for some reason, stopped and said... "I hope it was worth it." I got to the door, turned around and went back into the kitchen and started dumping the things I had put in the refrigerator earlier back into my bag. I was saying calmly, "You don't deserve this shit." Then I started to say mean things. I didn't care. So I headed for the door once again and it HIT ME. MY CONDOMS. I turned back to her and said, "Wait a second did he FUCK you with one of my condoms?" She put her head down yet again. And then quietly answered... "No, he had some on him." AH HA! HAHAHAHAHA! What a scumbag!!! I knew it! I immediately walked back into her room and took my condoms out of her drawer laughing. All the while saying, "Some friends you got... the guy brought condoms out to dinner with an old friend." Some friendship they have, huh? NICE.

What pissed me off the most, is she knew they were going to at least make out... and HE KNEW for sure that he was going to FUCK her. What is even worse is that this all went down after she CUT HER MOUTH OPEN. That's disgusting. What a class act. Stay Classy San Diego. I know I wouldn't be trying to SCHTOOP some chick with a bloody fucking mouth. That guy must be some kind of winner. What a joke. But the truth is... the joke was on ME, not them. He was a winner. I was the idiot. So I left the apartment in shock feeling betrayed. I should've known.

What kind of self respecting man brings a condom out to dinner with a FRIEND. I NEVER bring condoms with me when I'm having dinner with one of my lady-friends. This is why I'm always saying men and women can't be friends. This story proved my point completely. Some old friends they were. Watch out ladies.

Maybe I was an inadequate lover. Maybe I was not a good enough companion. Maybe I was just not what she was looking for. Who knows? I'll never know for sure. Maybe they were just scumbags. Maybe they did me a favor. Whatever. She had too many guy friends anyway. It was all my fault for trusting her and expecting too much. You can't expect too much out of people or you'll end up disappointed.

I learned many valuable lessons from this great experience and have since moved on bringing my learnings with me. Look out for the chicks with too many guy pals. Always go with your first instincts. Looking back I knew it was going to be a problem from the beginning. I honestly hope they are living happily ever after, because I sure am. And ladies if a guy is carrying rubbers around with him, he's probably not looking out for your best interests. And the next time you tell someone your dating to "have fun" and "be safe"... you better pray they don't take it literally and bone one of their old guy friends with one of your condoms. Hey, at least they didn't use mine. Victory.

I AM WALKING OUT OF AN AUDITON...

2009-07-01T09:59:00.000-07:00

the other day feeling relieved and unnerved at the same time. Relieved it's over... And unnerved because you never really know how the HELL you did. If anyone has ever been on an audition, you know what I'm talking about. You walk into a room with 5 or 6 people in there just waiting for you to begin acting so they can JUDGE you. If you think acting is easy... you are dead wrong. Being an actor is ridiculously difficult on the mind, body, and soul. And AUDITIONING is the hardest part.

Why do you think many actors are anorexic, insecure freak-shows? It's because they are asked to do what the kids on American Idol do, but in a 12 x 12 room that's hot as shit and it's not being broadcasted. These rooms could make Bear Grylls claustrophobic. And everyone in there is trained to HATE you before you even open your mouth. They're like TERMINATORS, if you will. I only compare this to American Idol because although it's one big audition, those kids that get past the screeners that we see on TV have already won. I'm not saying it's easy for them, cause it's not, but THEY ARE ON TV. They are getting the chance to do their thing on camera in front of MILLIONS of people. Yeah, there's a camera in the auditioning room when you are reading for any part, but only 6 or 7 people are going to see it. If 1 person likes you, and 6 don't... you're fucked. At least on AI we can vote for those wackos.

Let's jump back a little bit so I can enlighten you on what happens prior to getting INTO THE ROOM. First, they send you the script and SIDES for the audition. SIDES are excerpts from the script that contain your lines... like an important individual scene that you will be reading in the room. They usually send these a couple of days before so that you can prepare. So you go over your lines with a scene partner or anyone at home, or in the mirror... whatever floats your boat until the day of judgement. On that day you carry your sides around at work (if you're me) or in a Starbucks if you are a spoiled brat (don't worry I realize you're just luckier than me if this is you... I'm just jealous).

It's now time to mentally prepare yourself, or what we like to call getting into character, which is not and easy thing to do when you are changing in the bathroom at work 20 minutes before while reading the sides.

Okay, so then you head over to the place where they're holding the auditions. Once you get into the waiting room, you usually feel like an ASSHOLE because there are 12 other guys in there dressed just like you. Even worse is that they all look like YOU, or some variation of you. Well this makes sense because there's a reason they brought these people in... because they LOOK the part.

So you sign in and sit down. And you WAIT... and then you wait a little longer until they call you in. You watch your competition go in and out of the room swiftly. Some are in there for longer than others. At this point, I like to put everything out of my mind. I try to stay in character the whole time I'm there, but there can be distractions...

The worst part about being in the waiting room is everyone else knows each other. They don't know me, but it seems like they all know each other. It's like nobody even cares about this particular part. I'm in there thinking... this is ALL I care about right now. Nothing else matters... like the Metallica song. Great song. These guys are all talking about the last audition they saw each other at... the last commercial they did... or the last guest star they had on CSI: MIAMI for Christ's sake. Gimme a break. I wish there was a SILENCE rule in the waiting room.

When I hear these guys talking, I always wonder... Do any of these kids have jobs? Who's supporting their dream? Maybe they work a lot as actors? Maybe they're SLASHERS? Slasher is a term used for those who are ACTORS/WAITERS. Waiter can also mean bartender or host at some schwanky restaurant. There are a ton of them out here. Maybe they're just like me... who knows?

I mentioned before that the other actors don't know me in the waiting room. I have seen other people I know on occasion, but it rarely happens. I say that because I don't have the luxury to go on as many auditions as I should because I have a FULL TIME JOB. You see, I need a job that gives me insurance. I need a REAL paycheck or I wouldn't be able to survive. The only reason I have been able to live comfortably over the past few years is because of my full time job and the few movies that I've worked on. Combining the two has allowed me to breathe. I am supporting my dream.

Now, I'm not saying that I don't like any of this... because I actually love it. I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't. To me, acting... and auditioning in particular, is the ULTIMATE test of character. Can you walk into a ROOM of Judgement under pressure an perform? That is the question. And how well you perform will determine your employment. This is an anxiety filled profession that I've gotten myself into. It's awesome when you get a part or make a film of your own and perform well in it. Having people enjoy your performance is worth all of the struggle. Making people laugh is the consummate payday. Moving people emotionally is truly fucking amazing... especially when you are acting as a CHARACTER on paper. It's not exactly easy to make people laugh or cry with an on-screen performance.

Imagine getting a role in 100 million dollar film. And yes you may be getting paid a ridiculous amount of money for it, but you are still asked to perform at a high level with other people's money on your shoulders. That's a lot of pressure. Ask anyone who works in Portfolio Management or some form of banking what kind of pressure they face... Why do you think those guys are jumping out of windows? Dealing with other people's money is crazy and that's all the entertainment industry is based on. The only difference is that WE are here for YOUR entertainment. Remember that when you are saying Brad Pitt sucked in a film. Perhaps he was trying his hardest for YOU to enjoy the movie, not just trying to pick up a quick paycheck. And don't forget there was a time when guys like him had to stand before the counsel of DEATH and have every inch of them judged.

I AM SICK AND TIRED...

2009-06-24T12:12:00.000-07:00

of WOMEN that have a lot of guy friends. I just don't understand it. It's bullshit. Get yourself some GOD DAMNED girlfriends! The guys don't want to hang out with 1 girl and 15 dudes. It's not fun. If you want to hang out, bring 10 girls with you and we won't complain. 15 guys competing for the same girl is a BLOODY, murdering mess. There needs to be a good ratio for a gathering to be enjoyable, otherwise the men are unhappy. Women constantly say, "I'm one of the guys." Or they tell me, " Oh, I totally act like a dude." Or my favorite, "Girls suck, they're so annoying... I'd rather hang out with guys." I mean really... Enough is enough.

First off, YOU ARE NOT ONE OF THE GUYS. If you were, you would have a THIRD leg... otherwise known as a PENIS. And if you were such a dude, you wouldn't shave your legs and you'd be rocking the 5 o'clock shadow on your face. I think that would be cool because I've always wanted to hang out with a bearded lady, but in that case you would probably join the circus instead of hanging with me. Secondly, YOU DO NOT ACT LIKE A DUDE. If you did, you would never call me... and you'd watch sports all the time... and you'd drink SCOTCH without cringing... and you'd smoke cigars. Also, you wouldn't cry like a GIRL when I give you a surprise DEAD-LEG. And another thing, if we got into a fight, I would be able to punch you in the face without facing criminal charges. Finally, you are correct... Girls can be annoying. And yes some of them do suck... but let's be honest here, they can't all be that bad.

Women just love having guy friends. They love competing with them. They always want to drink as much as you do. By the way, if you are drinking like one of the guys, you probably drink too much. Traditionally men are larger than you, so if you are consuming the same amount of alcohol or more than a dude, you are most likely A MESS. Nobody wants to see a sloppy chick falling all over herself in the bar. Who wants to take a chick home that can't function? Some guys might, but they belong in a little place known as THE BIG HOUSE... aka THE STATE PENITENTIARY.

I'm not sure if they realize this, but if you are even a remotely attractive female... ALL OF YOUR GUY FRIENDS WANT TO SLEEP WITH YOU. If not, they're either not attracted to you or gay. I'm sorry, but it's a FACT. Why do you think every guy you date gets jealous and HATES it when you have guy friends? No man in his right mind wants to think about his girl hanging out with her MANTOURAGE. Some may call this insecurity; I call it COMMON SENSE.

Over the years I have come to the understanding that women are always going to have SOME guy friends. And that's okay. They probably slept with them. Being comfortable with that as a man is part of the maturing process. I LOVE WOMEN... so of course I want them to be happy, but not too happy. I find when women (and men) have everything they want, it never seems to be enough. Some of the happiest married people go astray. There is so much infidelity going on in this country it makes me ILL. Maybe that's just part of a relationship? Many people just deal with cheating when it happens, and they move forward. But guess what honey bunches of OATS, NOT ME. You cheat... BEAT IT. SCRAM. I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU. Someday later on I might be able to forgive you... much later. The truth is, I will NEVER take you back. Maybe we can be friends at some point and the new guy you're dating can hate me because he'll always be wondering if we slept together. Then when he accuses you of hanging out with guys you probably slept with, you'll lie... and so it begins. Or maybe you'll tell the truth and he'll resent you for it and always be thinking, "Why does my girl want to hang out with her old flames?"

Have you ever brought up a woman in a conversation to a REAL man? I'm sure you all have. If this man is STRAIGHT, usually one of the first questions he asks is, "How does she look?" Or "Is she HOT?" I do it. And if you are a normal dude, YOU DO IT. No guy ever asks, "Where'd she go to school?"... "What was her major?"... "What part of Virginia is she from?" They may ask these questions later, but never first. So ask yourselves this ladies, do you really want to be around someone all day that is trying to figure out a way to get into your pants? Some women might and that's alright... I guess. Maybe I'm just immature. Yeah, that's it. I'm an infant... A really smart one.

I happen to be part of a large MANTOURAGE. About 12-15 of us get together every weekend to play ball and then spend the day having drinks, watching sports and acting like buffoons. We don't have very many girls around until nighttime. Every once and while we make exceptions, but truthfully, women complicate things for us. When they are around, everyone wants to hook up with this one... I got DIBS on that one... This guy's COCKBLOCKING that guy. We just can't concentrate on the task at hand... acting like DIPSHITS. It's a fucking mess. A beautiful mess... Designated to begin after 9pm.

I AM A RESIDENT...

2009-06-17T15:24:00.000-07:00

of CALIFORNIA and have been for almost 6 years now. I've moved around a lot. My plan was to come out here with 2 duffel bags and couch surf for a few months until I could find a steady job and eventually get my own place. Well that didn't work out like I'd planned, so I became somebody's house boy instead. I immediately got a job working outside for a local Landscape Architect building playgrounds, decks, and planting ridiculously large trees for the extremely wealthy folks living in LA county. I did all this while living in a Guest House on a cliff in Palos Verdes.

In total, I wound up living there for about a year during 2 different stints. In the middle of my Kato Kaelin period I lived in Santa Barbara for a few months with a couple of friends while working on a project. So after my final stay in the Guest House I had saved enough money to get my own place. I moved DOWNTOWN. My friend and I found a spacey loft to rent in the Historic Arts District just below Little Tokyo. It was great. Everything I needed was close by. The Japanese markets were awesome and kept us eating healthy. All the best SUSHI in town was less than two blocks away... I was in HEAVEN.

This is where I had my first run-ins with LA's finest people... THE HOMELESS. If you don't know anything about Downtown LA, it's where SKID ROW is located. And for you out-of towners that is what you would call HELL ON EARTH. Skid Row is located between 7th and 4th just below and above ALAMEDA... about 5 blocks from my house. I always preferred to call it BUM CENTRAL rather than Skid Row, but if you've ever been there you'd think the latter is the appropriate name since everyone there looks like they're on their way out.

Now let me tell you what this place was like... Hundreds of dirty tents line the sidewalks for about a three block radius. Where the Hell did they get these tents? Did DICK'S Sporting Goods have an everything must go for free sale? Blankets and sleeping bags filled with starving people resting on the street. Drug use runs rampant as well as disease and violence. This is not a place for any tax paying citizen to be walking at any hour of the day. It's a sad sight... and if you haven't seen it you should just to see how lucky you really are. Trust me, if you're ever feeling down on your luck, take a ride through SKID ROW. That will wake you up... FAST.

While living 5 blocks away from this "other" world I avoided it whenever possible. I was amazed that the bums weren't always coming into our neighborhood in droves looking for food, cans or any kind of handout, but they rarely did. They stayed in their area for the most part and kept to themselves. Don't get me wrong, there was an occasional maniac lurking, but not all the time like I'd expected. Sometimes a random BUM would come into our alley and gather up as many cans as possible and rummage through the dumpster for clothes and other materials to use for shelter. There was usually a regular BUM. I guess it was his block or alleyway because the other randoms only came every once in a blue moon. They must draw straws to see who gets what alley... I don't know. To tell you the truth they never bothered me at all. I actually used to separate my recyclables and put them in a bag next to the dumpster for the local homeless guy, which I'm sure he appreciated.

My point is, it was never a problem. The bums went about their business and only came during the daytime. They were rarely making a racket in the dumpster late at night or early in the morning. If I ran into one of them in the alley I always said hello and they were very polite back. I stayed Downtown for 2 years and lived in relative peace in harmony with LA's Homeless and HELL was only a few blocks away.

Now I live in Santa Monica. The beach is right down the street. I can see the Ocean from my front porch. The women are beautiful. The people are polite, the weather is fantastic and everything is accessible. When I moved here I thought I had escaped the Homeless altogether since the neighborhood was so nice, respectable people walked freely, children were at play, and the streets were so clean. Boy was I WRONG. Homeless people in BEACH towns are the WORST. Honestly, I fucking hate them.

Coming from the East Coast where we put our garbage cans in FRONT of our houses this was some transition. In many California cities, for anyone that doesn't know, there are alleys between every street. So behind the houses, large garbage cans (provided by the city) are placed in the alley; one for recycling and one for regular trash. The garbage trucks come through the alleys and pick up the trash once or twice a week... I've yet to figure out their schedule, but they are loud as hell.

Even though I want to kill the Garbage Men when they wake me up on random mornings; I can live with it. What I absolutely can NOT live with is Homeless people that roam up and down the alley at all hours of the night and day fighting for whatever cans they can get. And when I say fighting, I mean just that. I have actually seen two BUMS screaming at each other saying, "I got here first MOTHER FUCKER!" And this shit goes on ALL THE TIME. Seriously, this should not be happening in a neighborhood where the houses are all over a million dollars and every apartment or condo being rented goes for over 2 grand a month.

The other night at 3am some DOUCHEBAG BUM was pushing a fucking shopping cart filled with cans through the alley. I mean come on guy, it's fucking 3am! I know you have nowhere to live, no money, and no friends but people are SLEEPING for Christ's sake. Is it really necessary to be inconsiderate when you are Homeless? I think not. I know you're probably crazy, but fuck... no wonder you're Homeless.

And what kills me, is that this is a BEAUTIFUL neighborhood. Driving through it I would never have imagined in a million years that BUMS would rule the alleyways. Nobody even chases them away. It really pisses me off. I think I'm going to set a trap in my trash can so that when they come in the middle of the night or at 5am to sift through it a SHIT BOMB will explode in their faces. That will keep them away. I may sound like an asshole here, but I don't give a damn.

And you know what else gets me going... when these poor saps have DOGS. Where the FUCK do these animals come from? Are they runaways? Did they steal them? How the hell do they feed them when they can't afford to feed themselves? Those poor mutts.

This is a great country, but a very sad one. We can't even take care of our own. We really need to do something about the Homeless. We need more shelters. We need more psychiatric hospitals to hold these unfortunate souls. They definitely should not be roaming the streets and alleys at all hours of the night. It freaks people out... especially young women, kids, and ME. I don't have a solution for the problem. All I know is I want then to stay the FUCK out of my alley. I guess they live by the code of EARLY BUM GETS THE CAN... and I hate it.

I AM CURRENTLY SUFFERING...

2009-06-13T11:52:00.000-07:00

from a little illness called THE FLU. No assholes, not the SWINE FLU... Although for a second there I drank the Kool-Aid and thought the symptoms were leaning that way, but it's just the plain-old influenza virus. I rarely get headaches and my head is POUNDING. Fever? Haven't had one of those since 5th grade and right now my temperature is approaching at least 102. Aches and pains. I feel like a Senior Citizen with arthritis all over my body. Fuck, I should watch "COCOON".

It all started on Monday. I felt great that morning. I had a solid breakfast, drank some green tea and headed to work. I was fine all day. Then about a half hour before I was ready to leave work my throat got a little dry. I thought it was a result of my non-stop talking and drinking over the weekend so I didn't worry about it. I came home, threw in a load of laundry, and sat down to write the previous blog and noticed that my throat was feeling much drier than before. I began consuming a ridiculous amount of H2O. It didn't help. My throat still didn't hurt but it was now as dry as my Auntie Mary's Banana Bread.

By the time I finished the blog I remembered thinking, this blog is awful, and I am in big trouble. I posted it anyway and passed out.

The next morning I woke up with a fever. I went to work believing it would pass, worked half the day in MISERY, then went immediately to my Doctor, and sure enough he told me I had THE FLU. I told him to give me as many drugs as possible to get me better immediately. And he did just that.

Being sick sucks. You can't taste your food. It's hard to sleep. Your nose gets all irritated. Your eyes are either too watery or too dry. You're lazy. And as a result of your laziness you eat candy and fast food. Your body hurts. Did I say you can't taste your food?... because you CAN'T! You miss work. You miss school. Well the last 2 aren't so bad. You watch Maury Povich. Pretty much your life is FUCKED. Basically when you're sick you become a white-trash, unemployed, Middle-American.

If none of this makes any sense... And I sound like a METH HEAD... It's probably because I have ingested 90% of the over-the-counter ingredients used to make METH... So bare with me; I'm cracked out over here.

Every time I get sick, which isn't very often, I say the same thing... "I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy." And you know what; I wouldn't... but I may wish it upon some of my friends.

Whenever someone in your group of friends falls ill, it's in your best interest to convince them to stay the HELL home. I feel like even when you're sick, your friends still want you to hang out. What is up with that? Do they want us to die? Do they want our illness? I can't imagine my presence being that important. Personally, when any of my friends are sick, I don't want to see any of those BASTARDS until they have been in a decompression chamber for at least a week. Hanging out with someone blowing green mucous into the sleeve of a Cardigan all night sounds delightful. I'd rather watch reruns of "The Hills".

So I missed 2 full days of work, and after sweating profusely in my bed on 3 consecutive nights... I figured it was time to get up and complain about being SICK. I swear I had planned on writing a Happy Blog this week but of course the Gods had to put a stop to that by slapping me in the face with a hand dipped in INFLUENZA. I wanted to write about... I just fell asleep and woke up with drool on my arm. A few hours passed during what I would call an early-afternoon nap and I've forgotten what this entry was about... it's seems long enough and who says it needs an ending. I'll come back when I'm feeling better. I hope none of you get what I have... unless you're one of my friends.

I AM OFFICIALLY OVER...

2009-06-08T20:40:00.000-07:00

flying COACH on an airplane. It actually is a CATTLE CAR. It's a miserable experience. Everyone wants to be the first one on the plane. Everyone wants to be the first one off. Everyone is stressed. Everyone is either hung over, anxious, angry or all of the above. Where are all of the happy people on this planet? Not on Airplanes, that's for sure... check that... the happy folks are up in FIRST CLASS. So I would like to review the travel process to understand why people hate flying so much.

It all starts in the Checked Baggage line. The line is usually absurdly long. I don't know about you, but I always feel like an IMMIGRANT in a food line right off the boat at ELLIS ISLAND around 1917. My poor grandparents. Everyone is FURIOUS, especially since you have to pay to check anything these days. Then, nobody knows how to use the KIOSK. This baffles me because the thing is so self explanatory Nicole Richie could figure it out.

After that, we impatiently move to another extremely long line to get through SECURITY. This part sucks... BIGTIME. Please take off your shoes. Take off your hat. Take your laptop out of your bag. Remove your CLIT piercing. Take off your belt. Your rings. Your glasses. Would like a kidney as well? It's ridiculous. I am BEGGING some genius out there to invent something that will force security people to leave us alone at the airport. Or maybe we should all travel naked... or in bathing suits. No... That would suck since we are the FATTEST country on EARTH.

Look, I understand that security is important especially with the aftermath of 9/11. I want to feel safe like everyone else, but there has to be a better way.

Okay moving along... Now you arrive at your GATE and if you are going to any major city there is rarely a place to sit. This part doesn't piss me off. I'd rather be standing away from everyone else anyhow. So I wait patiently until they call my row to board the plane. And during that time I look around carefully to see who I HOPE is sitting next to me. Hopefully the hot brunette in the corner reading a book, not the loud blonde yapping on her phone but I'll take it over a sniffling single Mom with a crying baby in her lap. At this point I would settle for anyone that won't be crying and is under 200lbs. Once they make the call, people will run over you to get on first. It's like everyone is scared SHITLESS that their carry-ons won't fit in the over-head compartment... or maybe they're giving out free WHOPPERS with cheese to the first ones on. I eat that shit as little as possible so I walk slowly to the line, but I still feel like I'm in a battle scene from "300". Now here's the kicker... when you're making your way to the plane you start to have anxiety wondering which one of these idiots is sitting next to YOU.

So you get to your seat, throw your carry-on up top, sit down and WAIT. Like Tom Petty said, "The WAITING is the hardest part" and God Damn was he right. You then watch all of the people with babies getting on the plane and pray that they are in the last row in the back. People sniffling with tissues in hand stroll by. Whew. A 350 pound man follows. SHIT. Not cool. For him or me any way we look at it. And what the hell is that dude doing in COACH? I don't want to make the guy feel bad, but FUCK... Please walk on by.

It really sucks to have that feeling. You know, the feeling like you're being a bad human being. I hate that. But you know what... I'm sorry... I can't help it. These feelings are unavoidable on planes. I am a little man and it's hard for me to fit in the freaking seat. How in the H-E double hockey sticks is that guy going to fit in TWO of them let alone ONE?

Two years ago while working on film; I flew First Class everywhere. 15 cities in 3 months. I was spoiled... And it was AWESOME. It really is a better life up there. It's so much easier to get through the airport too. You don't wait in any lines. Nobody harasses you. No random checks. They treat you like you're TOM HANKS. And most importantly you don't give a SHIT who's sitting next to you on the plane because it could be KING HIPPO and it wouldn't phase you a bit.

On my last two flights I hit the Jackpot. I had an EXIT ROW on the flight back East with two other little guys and had the privilege of sitting next to a nice young lady on the way back home. So I guess you just have to get lucky or literally hit the JACKPOT and fly First Class to enjoy yourself in the not-so-friendly skies.

I AM DEFINING THE WORD SLUT...

2009-05-29T10:46:00.000-07:00

Because I feel like it... It's a funny word... And everyone has their own definition for it. Let's start with the dictionary's take on it... SLUT - noun - 1.) A dirty, slovenly woman. 2.) An immoral or dissolute woman; prostitute. Unfortunately my annotation will be much longer and I'll get to it in a minute, but first...

I was watching this great COMEDIAN on HBO over the weekend, Jim Jeffries, and he touched upon a similar topic. He talked about how SLUTS have ruined it for NICE GIRLS because most men want to do "dirty things" in bed... And the women that are willing to give it to us are SLUTS. He went on to say nice girls only give us those things on Holidays and Birthdays to keep us happy, not cause they really want to. It was hilarious, but I adamantly disagree. Those women aren't sluts or nice girls... they're annoying brats.

He also said he loved sluts. He said they were so amazing in bed he could never go back to a nice girl. Can a nice girl do bad things? Can a slut be a nice girl too? Men have been torn over this since the beginning of time. Which do we choose? And why can't we have both? Is it even possible? I think so...

Now what are these "dirty things" that we want? Bringing animals in bed? That's dirty and downright fucking insane. You should be in prison if you're doing that. Consuming urine? That's dirty and disgusting. No thank you. Weird fetishes dealing with fecal matter? That's NASTY and makes me want to vomit. Pass. Having two chicks at the same time is... AWESOME. I think most of the "dirty things" he was referring to aren't that dirty at all. They are important things that make up a healthy sex life. Moving on.

What is a SLUT? This word is used so frequently in our culture by both men and women; it's very hard to determine what it actually means. Dictionaries are useful, but rarely thought of when we are constructing sentences using slang and talking in the language I like to call BULLSHIT... meaning we butcher the English language and use words however the hell we want. For example, I've heard women in department stores call each other sluts because one girl picked the last pair of jeans off the rack first, and the other girl shrieks, "You slut, I love those." Then they both giggle. Fucking confusing. And they wonder why we say it so much.

So my definition is as follows... SLUT - noun - Prostitute. If you're accepting money for sex, you are a slut. If you sleep around and do not use protection, you are a dirty slut. If you use sex as a way to get ahead in this world, you are a slut. If you sleep with two different guys in the same day, you are slutty. If you watch Extreme Makeover Home Edition, you are a slut. Just kidding. If you've had sex with hundreds of men, you are probably a slut or hopefully a prostitute. They're synonyms anyway. If you have an STD and don't tell your partner, you are a scumbag, a HUGE slut, and deserve to be punched in the face with brass knuckles and have your privates permanently shut with a RENTED staple gun. If you don't sleep with a lot of men and you like to fool around... And you think performing oral sex on a daily basis with many different men is okay because there is no penetration; you are the biggest slut on the PLANET. And guess what honey, there is plenty of penetration... in your mouth. Don't think you can't get diseases from oral sex cause you definitely CAN. If you've never had sex as an adult; you're a SLUT... Because I said so.

Sorry MOM, (she probably stopped reading two paragraphs ago), but I must continue.

Let me get back to the PROTECTION part for a second... If you don't use protection, or as a woman force your man to strap up, you are not only a slut, but a fucking MORON. Now that's dirty. That's Slutty. There are exceptions if you've been dating the same person for a while and you've both been checked out... and you're both monogamous. Doubtful, but it happens. Otherwise I have no patience for this behavior. Any woman that tells you, "It's okay, I'm on the pill" has said it before. Trust me, you are not that SPECIAL. I've ejected women from my bed so fast after hearing those words they ended up like GOOSE in "Top Gun". Yes, they died. Well I didn't kill them, but they were dead to me as soon as they muttered what I like to call the SLUT SENTENCE. That's just inconsiderate, disrespectful and slutty.

Now, women that just want sex from you are NOT SLUTS. Women that want to do the same things you want to do in bed are not sluts. Women interested in exploring in the bedroom and doing things you've never done before are not sluts... THEY ARE KEEPERS. Like LUDACRIS said, it's very possible for a woman to be a "Lady in the street and a freak in the bed." That's what all men want, right? I find women wanting the same things we want. I think women that are comfortable with themselves and with you; will be all the more willing and able to accommodate both your and her needs. Women are sexual beings just like us. They want to be pleasured. They just want to feel sexy. They want to feel WANTED and appreciated. The key to a healthy and fun sex life is VARIETY. If you are a dead fish, hit the road Jack. If you are a complete maniac, beat it Charlize Theron's character from "MONSTER". If you only want it Missionary style; join a Church group. There is a middle ground between slut and nice girl; you just have to find it.

To conclude this ridiculous diatribe... wear a rubber. Do what you want when you want, but do it for the right reasons. Just be careful, huh? If you sleep around, get tested... a lot. Not only for yourself, but for the poor Frat boy or Frat rat you're bringing home from the bar. It will take some of the stress off. And if you don't care about any of this and are an actual SLUT by my definition, whether male or female, you're no better than a RAPIST. You're probably thinking, "Rapist, this guy is a fucking dumb ass" but I'm dead serious. You are doing something against your partners will. Believe me, if they knew your sexual history and saw the red ink on your doctor's records; they would NOT be in bed with you. If you have something and are not telling them, you are raping their right to know.... The right to know that you are a slut, possibly diseased and a complete fucking asshole. I know we're all going through a ton of shit. It's a tough world we live in, but we've all made mistakes. We can change. So do the right thing... especially if you're a SLUT.

I AM A MOMMA'S BOY...

2009-05-27T13:06:00.000-07:00

and have no problem admitting it. I'm not talking about the serial killer or, to be more specific, a John Wayne Gacy-esque type of momma's boy, but more of just a kid that loves his mother. I talk to my MOM almost everyday... if I can. We simply shoot the shit about everything... the weather, chicks, my Dad, my brother, and cooking are a few topics we touch upon. Honestly, we are just really good friends.

It wasn't always like that you know; there was a time when she was just my MOM. When you're a kid, your parents are supposed to guide and teach you about life from their experience. They let you know what's right, and what's wrong. They love you unconditionally, if you're lucky, and instill the fear of GOD in you. My Mom and Dad did all of that. If you're not afraid of your parents when you're growing up, there's something wrong.

As a child, my Mom was around a little more than my Dad because he worked long hours during the week. My mother worked while we were at school and used to get home not long after we did. Now I'm not saying my father was absent, because he was NOT... He was always with us all weekend (my mom worked the night shift on Friday and Saturday) and he never, I mean never missed any of our important school functions or sporting events. Even at that tender age, I realized that my parents were busting their asses to give us a better life. And I appreciated it very much... Still do.

My father always told us to respect our mother. We were never to curse around her. We were never allowed to wear hats at the table or around women in the house... ever. He always told us to carry things for her and open the door for her whenever possible. He was basically teaching us that until we were married, the most important woman in the world is your mother. I never argued that.

Don't get me wrong, my parents are not perfect. They had their problems over the years, but it never affected how they treated us and even when they had problems they always respected each other. My Mom was always available to us. She always welcomed a good conversation and because of that I was never afraid to open up to her. It's been really easy to talk to her for as long as I can remember.

When I was younger, a close family friend was having relationship problems. Most of his problems were obviously caused by him. He was abrasive, yet standoffish and had serious intimacy issues. I liked this guy very much and couldn't understand why he couldn't keep a woman. So I asked my Mom what she thought his problem was. She said... and I will never forget this, "Remember this honey, as a man, you can never truly love another woman and treat her the way she deserves to be treated unless you whole heartedly love and respect your mother." That statement really hit me as I was already in love with 20 different girls at school. So I made it a point to try and be the best son I could be and to love her more than I already did. The fact of the matter is, this didn't do me any harm with the ladies. Women like men that have good relationships with their mothers.

Over the years I've noticed friends having constant problems with their girlfriends. Some of the issues were normal, but in certain instances I wondered why they had these problems. Some of the girls they were dating were fantastic, yet my friends were not satisfied and were always miserable. So I started to observe them closely when they were around their mothers. A few of these guys cursed at them, constantly disrespected them and their fathers just stood by and said nothing. Not only would my father have kicked my ASS up and down WALL STREET; he would have made me apologize and then sentenced me to 30 days in solitary confinement like Tim Robbins in "The Shawshank Redemption" after he played that Italian lady's music. So it's safe to say I never disrespected my Mom. My father is a very intimidating man. He was the warden... of HIS HOUSE.

That's the problem with kids these days... No RESPECT. No respect for their elders. No respect for their peers. And no respect for themselves. Parents are scared to give their kids a hard time. They shouldn't be... they are YOUR KIDS, NOT YOUR FRIENDS. You can't let them get away with MURDER, or one day they might actually be murdering someone. I may have gotten away with more than my brother cause I was the second child, but I still wasn't allowed to do everything I wanted.

My parents did not become my friends until my mid-late teens. Once I had proven that I wasn't an asshole, they loosened up. I always knew they were great people, but I never knew how good of friends they could be. I'm so grateful for how they raised me and I hope one day I can be half the parents they are.

Today as a grown (not fully grown) man, I've come to the conclusion that I love my Mother and I avoid relationships... for now. I have a great life. I have great friends. These days most of my closest friends are in healthy relationships. Sometimes I find myself envious, but not all that often. Recently, a lady friend of mine, told me, "You have INTIMACY issues." And of course like the asshole I am I said, "Just because I don't want to be intimate with you, doesn't mean I have intimacy issues." That was a real egotistical dick thing to say. She didn't deserve that, but she also didn't have the right to assume that about me. I have chosen to be this way. Every now and again I let someone in... I am just very selective. So for now I'd rather chat on the phone with my Mom everyday and hear about her life, instead of some BIRD I'm seeing on and off.

So for all of you dudes out there that are having trouble with the ladies... think about your relationship with your mom. If you have a troublesome one, try to fix it. Give your mom a call and say, "Sorry for giving you so much grief over the years." And if she was shitty to you... let her know. Don't be afraid. Making things right with your folks always leads to something positive.

I AM THE ACTION FIGURE...

2009-05-20T01:34:00.000-07:00

version of my big brother. You see, he's 6'3 and change... Me, I'm 5'9... in stilettos. I never once thought I would be a SHORT man. When my brother, who is 5 and a half years my senior, hit his growth spurt during his first two years of High School, I was sure I was in good shape. At that point (4th grade for me), I was one of the tallest kids in my class. The future looked oh so bright... Little did I know I was in for a life of size SMALL T-shirts and wearing baby KEDS on my feet.

Back in Middle School, I was the first kid with hairy armpits. I was the first kid with muscles. I had big hands, big feet, and a big... HEAD. I was always one of the fastest kids in my class, as well as one of the best athletes. I thought by the time I was 16, I would be a GIANT. Yeah, I was a little off. The doctors used to tell me there was a chance I would be 6'5. I can't believe a respected University gave those assholes a degree. I never really grew after the 7th grade. I had no spine problems, no problems with my legs... I just stopped growing.

When I went off to High School, it didn't matter how big I was as long as I was good enough to help the teams I played for WIN. And I did just that. When you're little, you have to gain respect in other ways. You have to be tough. You have to be quick. You have to hit harder than everyone else. And most importantly, you can't take shit from ANYONE. So I didn't... and I had a successful High School career.

Even though on the outside I seemed happy and confident with myself, I was always pissed that I was short. I still hoped I'd grow. I remembered the days when I was taller than everyone else, or at least as tall... then suddenly I was one of the little guys. By the time I got to college, I was still the same height as I was in 7th grade... what a bummer... and I finally came to the conclusion that my growth had come to a screeching halt long ago.

In college I continued my athletic prowess. I played football... defensive back. Everyone was always put in front of me because they were bigger. I had to work 10 times as hard as the other guys just to get noticed. I had to truly, in every sense of the word, earn every bit of playing time I got. One time during Spring Practice, we were scrimmaging the Offense. A pass came my way and I hit a friend of mine (the guy is 3 times my size) who the pass was intended for, as hard as I could. I knocked him down. They didn't complete the pass. He got up and the coach screamed at him. He said, "What the Hell are you doing? Catch the God Damned ball!!! You just got crushed by a MIDGET!" I stood there pretending to be a badass and then yelled, "Hey Coach, FUCK YOU!" Needless to say, I was thrown out of practice. Afterwards that same coach approached me and said, "What are you nuts? You can't talk to me like that." I responded, "Yup, and neither can you." He looked at me for a second and laughed. "You're gonna get me fired." I said sorry. He patted me on the back, smiled and said... "I fucking love you... I wish you would come play offense." I nodded. He then said, "If we only had more guys like you?" I said, "If we had more guys like me, we'd be Ireland's national soccer team, not a Division 1 football team."

Now I'm definitely NOT condoning telling authority figures to go fuck themselves. You should probably listen to them, but sometimes you have to stick up for yourself. I knew I wasn't a midget, but I had to let everyone else know I was not to be fucked with. I guess that was my brief taste of what they call having "A NAPOLEAN COMPLEX".

To be honest, being short isn't all that bad. I find it comforting to be of average height. People expect less of you. When you're tall, you are supposed to be successful. Look at the numbers, taller people have an easier path to the top. Well it's not a breeze, but people definitely notice you more when your head is sticking out over the crowd. And the whole Napolean Complex thing is a mystery to me. Short guys that act out to get attention and to over-compensate for their SHORT comings are just dickheads and I dislike them more than anyone else. You're giving the rest of us a bad name. So cool it, little guy.

This one time last year, I was headed out to see a couple of friends at a bar. We were meeting this group of girls (volleyball players), all of whom were very tall. I get a text from my buddy who was already there saying, "Dude you might not want to come... unless you are prepared to speak to breasts all night." I thought... this is going to be a great night. I show up at the joint, grab a cocktail, and watch all of my friends hitting on these tall chicks and failing miserably. So after a few hours, the hottest girl of the group comes over to me (she's a good 4 inches taller) and says, "You haven't said a word to me all night... What's your deal?" Some balls this filly had, huh? And I hate it when people ask me what my deal is. My DEAL is, I was having a fabulous time until you came over to me and asked me that, now I want to drink my face off until I need my stomach pumped just to make sure this is my worst nightmare. Sorry, I tend to get off topic... So I answer her stupid question with, "I'm good BREEDING material." She looks down at me like Andre the Giant did to Hulk Hogan in WRESTLEMANIA and then bursted out laughing. She said, "That is the greatest thing any guy has ever said to me." I say, "I bet." She says, "No, you don't understand, every guy I ever meet says that I'M GOOD BREEDING MATERIAL and they want have kids with me." I'm nodding and smiling thinking, "No shit, Sherlock, why the fuck do you think I said it?" So she says, "Come on, I want to buy you a drink!" So I got my drink and I entertained her for a few minutes. Once I realized she indeed was as dumb as a box of HAMMERS, I made like titties and bounced. It didn't matter to me that she wanted to "hang out" because I had already achieved victory.

It doesn't matter how tall you are... It's our WITS that take us to great heights, not our wingspans. Maybe I can't get on the big kid rides at Six Flags. Maybe I have to shop at the Baby Gap. Maybe my nickname was LUCKY CHARMS in college. Maybe my T-shirts fit your kid sister and maybe I have to stand on a few phone books to give you a hug, but I'm fine with that. The closer to the ground I am, the more leverage I have. Hey, at least I don't have to worry about dying a tragic death on a roller coaster... And if the 50-FOOT WOMAN ever attacks; I'm pretty sure I have shot.

I AM FROM NEW JERSEY...

2009-05-18T19:39:00.000-07:00

and damned proud of it. New Jersey was one of the 13 original colonies. New Jersey was the home of the first collegiate football game between RUTGERS and PRINCETON. It's also the birthplace of many great talents such as Jack Nicholson, Meryl Streep, Shaquille O'Neal, and Bruce Springsteen. Thomas Edison did some of his finest work there. The famed show, "THE SOPRANOS" took place in the Garden State. And the head of the family, TONY, played to perfection by actor James Gandolfini, was born and raised there. It's the home of arguably the finest PIZZA and Bagels in the country. Also, some of the nicest people I've ever met are from NJ. Don't get me wrong there are DOUCHEBAGS there, and for some reason they are pinpointed in Jersey more than anywhere else... but you know what?... There are douchebags everywhere.

People are always asking me why folks from the Garden State are so proud... And I always give the same answer, "Cause everybody hates us so much." Also people constantly want to know why the state smells so badly. Usually when someone asks me that, I'm thinking, "Damn this person is stupid." Yes, the state smells shitty between exits 13-15 off of the NJ Turnpike, but that's because there are so many Factories, Refineries and Plants located there making the things every other state needs and takes. There are parts of every state that smell bad... trust me, I've been to most of them.

You know what really gets me going... When somebody from a neighboring state talks shit about NJ. Guess what assholes from Long Island or Eastern PA... you're no different than we are and we should be sticking together. The New Yorkers say we suck cause we don't have a pro football team, yet both teams with New York in front of there names play all of their games in NEW JERSEY. What's even worse than backstabbing neighbors, are implants living in NYC. These jackasses move to Manhattan, live there for 8 months and are already making derogatory comments about my home state. You don't know what the Fuck you're talking about. You've never even been there.

Television Writers are always taking shots at NJ on sitcoms based in New York. I have one thing to say to them... FUCK YOU... and you're probably from some shithole in the midwest so... CHOKE ON IT.

I'm not sure if anyone noticed, but NJ is nicknamed the GARDEN STATE... and for good reason. There is much fertile soil found there. Some of the tastiest corn comes from Jersey as well as squash and beautiful tomatoes. Blueberries, raspberries and many other fruits are grown there too...

Alright, I will stop kissing New Jersey's Horticultural Society's ass... Let me get to the good stuff. Now, a friend of mine sent me this little video on YOUTUBE called "GUIDO BEACH". If you haven't seen it, please do so. It's this hilarious video mocking the people that hang out at the JERSEY SHORE. After she sent it to me, she said... "That's you and your cousins!" She couldn't have been more wrong, but I still laughed my ass off.

If you go to the particular beach depicted in the "Guido" video, yes you will find a plethora of idiots. They are what gives US a bad name. Please understand that those people DO NOT represent the entire state. There are NORMAL people in New Jersey. And what kills me, is most of those rejects and their families probably originated in Staten Island or Queens. Damn those people are ridiculous... Beyond that one nightmare... there are many other beaches at the Jersey Shore that are beautiful and filled with regular folks. For example, Long Beach Island is a great place to relax and get away from the typical Jersey tomfoolery. Ocean City is another spot where the gelled-hair population is low. My point being... you don't have to go to the beach where all the assholes hang out. Surprise, it's not the only one.

What I will not argue, is that there are a great deal of Guidos and Guidettes in Jersey, not all of whom are bad. What can I tell you... There are a lot of Italians back EAST. And guess what shit talkers from CALIFORNIA and everywhere else, that means we have better PIZZA and Italian food than you have without question. You guys have the Armenians (sorry Sako, I love you, you're excluded) and the Persians which aren't that different than the silly Guidos in New Jersey... They all act the same at clubs. They're all really hairy. They all wear too much cologne. Only difference is, every once and a while you'll catch a Persian dude wearing a SPEEDO at the beach. Vomit. Do you hear us talking shit about those guys? Nope.

There are also a ton of JUICE-HEADS (roid raging freakshows) in Jersey. And if you think there aren't any Meat-heads on the sauce out here... take a bike ride from Manhattan Beach to Santa Monica... stop off in VENICE along the way and you'll see plenty of Roided-out maniacs doing curls on the beach. Some of them are even roller blading... ewf. Regardless, these guys are nuts on both coasts.

I challenge anyone to take a REAL visit to NJ. See the Northwestern part of the state in the fall. Drive down the shoreline in the summer... stop for an Italian Ice at Strollo's Ligthhouse in Long Branch, followed by a hot dog from the Windmill, then head south until you hit AC. There are beautiful beaches all along the way. I know you may be shaking your head, but trust me, you actually do have to see it, to believe it. It truly is a nice place.

So I guess what I'm saying is don't judge a book by a couple of pages... Read the whole fucking thing before you go writing a review. There's bound to be beauty in it. New Jersey has many beautiful places and a ton of history behind it. Everyone I know from my beloved state has a strong sense of family, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say about most places... especially here. Yeah NJ had a GAY Governor come out of the closet while in office cause he got pinched... So what. Yeah we have chicks with big hair and dudes that drive TRANS AMS... So WHAT... Yeah Tom Cruise went High School in North Jersey. So what. So before you start running your mouth about the GARDEN STATE, take a look at your own state... It probably isn't perfect either.

New Jersey is an awesome place to live. It's an extremely hard working state. It's also a great place to raise your kids (if you don't want them to be soft). I know you're probably thinking, "Why doesn't this jerk go back then"... Well, I'm here for a reason and I may never leave. I love my life here, but someday I'd like to go back. I refuse to jump ship until I accomplish what I came here to accomplish. If I can afford a life of luxury, I'd like to keep a place in NJ and Cali. Ah, a boy can dream, can't he? All I ask in the meantime is... Love thy neighbor, be careful when passing judgement, and stop HATING on New Jersey... Until you've ACTUALLY been there... not just driven down the Turnpike.

I AM A GOOD DRIVER...

2009-05-13T19:58:00.000-07:00

Sure you are. Everyone always says that. Okay. How many tickets have you had? Have you had a DUI? Let me see your driving record before you open your mouth. I'm pretty sure if you were such a good driver you would be STUNT driving for Tom Cruise on the "MISSION IMPOSSIBLE 8" set or on the NASCAR circuit somewhere in North Carolina sipping Bud in the bottle with Dale Earnhardt Jr. before a race... not telling me how to drive from the back fucking seat!

Why do people INSIST on backseat/passenger seat driving? It's really annoying. Do me a favor; shut the HELL up. I'm definitely being hypocritical here because I do it. For instance, my roommate drives too SLOW. Let's just say he's had a few offenses behind the wheel... So every time I'm in the car with him it takes 10 times as long to get wherever we are headed. And the thing is, I'm not really in a rush, but I still complain. I'm pretty sure you're not going to get pulled over for driving 35 in a 30 zone. Any cop that pulls you over for that is either really bored or is just an asshole out for revenge for having his lunch money stolen everyday in grade school. They SHOULD be pulling people over driving 45 in a 65. That is the worst. It also bothers me that the ROOMIE can't drive without smoking a cigarette and or having a cup of coffee in his hand... but that's another topic all together.

They give anybody a license these days. Every irresponsible JACKASS I know has a driver's license. You want to know why... because it's SIMPLE to drive. The test to get a license is a cake walk. A monkey could get one. I'm beginning to think they should make it a little harder.

I know I've already expressed my disgust for cell phones on the road, but it's really that bad. Everybody has a cell phone (except my one friend who I hate for this sole reason) and now that texting is so easy, everyone is doing it in their cars. Nobody is watching the road anymore. It scares the shit out of me. The next time you're driving, leave your phone in the glove compartment and look around when you get on the freeway... people are writing 150 character love letters via text all day long. I know this is a bit out of context, but how about that train conductor that caused the accident a few months ago killing 25 people. All the dude had to do was press a few buttons to operate the train and instead he was pressing the buttons on his fucking Blackberry and instantly became a murderer. I'm sure the train is more difficult to operate than I've insinuated, but seriously... What an asshole.

There are millions of accidents on our roads each year... And millions of people die because of them. The problem here is having a license is a big responsibility but nobody looks at it that way. Maybe if we pictured it like this... It's kind of like having a GUN license. A gun is a weapon. If you don't know how to use it correctly and lawfully, you shouldn't have one. A car is also a WEAPON. You can literally KILL somebody with it if you're not careful... or if you're a psychopath with road rage. So you should be more cautious or maybe you shouldn't have one. It's not meant to be played with while in motion. Wax and stroke it all you want while it's parked, but while you're driving, keep your hands on the wheel and your eyes on the road.

Now... what bothers me the most about driving is famous people. How the FUCK are you out there getting a DUI? YOU ARE RICH!!! You stupid fucking idiots. You've been out having drinks with Lindsay Lohan, huh? Can't wait to get to the after party in MALIBU? Great. How about this idea... Hey Mel, GET A GOD DAMNED CAB! If a cab is too shitty for you; get a car service or a limo. Shit, if you don't want to do that, call ME, I'll come get your dumb, drunk ass. If one more celebrity gets a drunk driving citation I am going to drive to the police station where they are being held, wait for them in the lobby, and TONYA HARDING that ass with a steel pipe.

And how about this Kris Brown guy... really dude? I'm not assuming to know anything about your life or what really happened that day with Rihanna... But what the HELL are you doing beating her up in a Ferrari on the day of the Grammy's? You two morons should have been DUKING it out in the back seat of a stretch ESCALADE.

If I was rich... CHECK THAT... WHEN I am rich... I will only be driving when I have to. If I ever, and I mean EVER have anything to drink, which I will, I will definitely NOT be operating any heavy machinery. I guess the point here is... whether famous or not, self proclaimed GOOD DRIVER or not... RESPECT the ROAD... Cause you don't want to wind up infamous... and on DATELINE.