Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Bruno & Me

So my roommate brought it to my attention that his ex-girlfriend's dog would be staying with us for a few days. I was cool with that given that I'm fairly comfortable with dogs. I kind of assumed the dog would be a smaller-medium sized dog, since our place isn't too big. So I had this image of myself cuddling and spooning some little cute muppetish terrier or something of that sort. I asked my roommate what type of dog it is and he told me it was a Doberman. I thought he might have been joking for a second there, but he wasn't. A Doberman? Are you kidding me? My only recollection of Doberman's are that they are large, mean, scary looking things that are usually used as guard dogs or the villains in animation movies. The dog's name by the way is Bruno. (No relation to the Sacha Baron Cohen character unfortunately) The ex-girlfriend drops Bruno off and of course he runs over to me. Even though the dog was a nice, sweet dog, it still took me a while to get used to him. I didn't want to act like a total puss, so I toughed it out and hid my true feelings.(Which consists of hiding under my bed, sobbing, and sucking my thumb) The first night went fine. Bruno seemed well trained and he slept with my roommate. (They did not go all the way, if you're curious.) So I'm thinking at this point, this isn't going to be so bad. The next morning, I get out bed and walked in the main room and Bruno is sitting in this chair staring at me. My roommate was at work, so I kind of forgot to realize it would just be me and Bruno staring at each other all day. I'm not gonna lie, a large 85 pound Doberman is not the most pleasant thing to see first thing in the morning.

(Good Morning Jonno!)

So I begin to eat my cereal and Bruno starts barking at me. I didn't know what to do, since he wasn't really barking at all the night before. Using my Dog Whisperer tactics, I tried to get him to stop barking, but it really wasn't working. I went to go work-out, since I figured it would be best to give Bruno some space. When I got back, he started the barking thing with me again. I thought about taking him outside, but then knowing my track record and previous misfortunes, I figured it would not be the best idea. Plus, my roommate was going to come back in an hour to let him out. After I had showered, I was doing some work in my room and trying to make some phone calls. I closed the door, so I could talk on the phone without any distractions. But then Bruno started crying, so I opened the door to quiet him down. Bruno then raced into my room and then he ran out. He literally raced in and out like 20 times. It was as if Bruno had developed some sort of tourettes syndrome in the span of ten minutes. I didn't know what the hell he was doing. I just kind of assumed he was happy to see me. Eventually, Bruno settled down and went back to the main room to hang out.

The roommate comes back and he says "What's this?" I didn't know what he was talking about, since I had been in my room.  But I could sense in his tone, it wasn't a suitcase filled with a million dollars. It was something bad. He's then like, "Did you feed him rice?"  Rice? I replied "No."  But the strange thing was I did have rice the night before. And there was a little bowl of leftover fridge rice in the fridge. So I then thought, that Bruno somehow opened to fridge, grabbed the bowl of rice, and then made a mess of it everywhere.  But when I walked into the main room to see what my roommate was talking about. My eyes widen with shock, fear, and nausea. There was an insane amount of rice everywhere. I'm talking about piles and piles of it. So there was no way, it could've been my small leftover bowl of rice. Unless Bruno took that bowl of rice, went to a science lab and cloned it 50 times. I cannot even explain to you how much rice was dispersed everywhere. From the rancid stench, the roommate and I came to the conclusion that he had vomited it up.  But the question where did he get all of this rice? Apparently, the ex-girlfriend ran out of dog food and gave him chicken and rice for dinner the night before. (Thank you ex-girlfriend!) Let's just say, from after this incident I won't be eating rice for a while. Nor, will I be considering purchasing a Doberman. Bruno, if you're reading this right now... You're a great guy, but I think our relationship would be better if we didn't live which each other yet.

Other McNuggets...

-I was at the bank of the other day and this foreign bank teller, asked me if I was Jewish.  I replied yes with befuddlement.  I then asked her what was her reason for asking that.  She said because of my last name. She then asked me if I would like my $25 in pennies. I of course said yes. How could I turn that deal down?

-I recently scratched my car door gain.  Pretty badly, I'm not gonna lie, I'm not the best driver. But the parking spot I have now has to be one of the most difficult spots to get out of history. I would try to explain this to you over the blog, but it's one of those things you have to see to understand.  So a few days ago, I drove up to this valet guy at a restaurant. And the valet guy says to me, "Hey, would you like me to scratch up the other side for you?" Thanks A-Hole, for making me feel better about my car.  Why don't you just kick me in the balls and give me a wedgie while we're at it. 

-I saw "Up In The Air" recently and I must say it was really well done.  The film was extremely relevant with what's going on in the world today. I wasn't big on Jason Reitman because he was the same guy that directed one of the most overrated films in history called "Juno". But the dude proved me wrong so kudos to him.  George Clooney was great, but I get the feeling that he was just playing himself and that's how he is in real life. And ladies I get the appeal. I would be more than happy to be in a menage a trois with him and Bruno.  (Assuming Bruno has not eaten any rice that day.)
(Can you say Mile High Club?)


-Speaking of gay threesomes and food... I was at the deli counter at the grocery store and this overly friendly Asian man was helping me. I don't mean to stereotype, but I got the sense from the cadence in his voice that there was a good chance he was a homosexual. So I was looking to get some good deli meat ham. (Yes, I realize that conflicts with my religious views) Anyways... The Asian deli man kept on giving me samples to try.  First he gave me a piece of ham and then he gave me a piece of this horseradish cheese... I thanked him for the two samples, but he wouldn't let me leave.  He then gave me a piece of this scrumptious roast beef. He this gave me a sample of the roast beef with the horseradish cheese together. I tried to leave again, but he wanted me to try this chicken salad that he felt was to die for. Don't get me wrong, the fat kid and I appreciated the samples, but at the same time it was a bit uncomfortable because I couldn't leave. But I must say, the best place to get hit on by a gay guy is at the Deli Counter.

-Staying on the Asian topic... I was walking down the street at night time. Maybe around 9pm.  And this Asian Woman who was probably in her late 30's walks up to me and starts asking me questions about her landlord and signing a check. I honestly did not know what the hell she was talking about. So I just kind of nodded my head and agreed with everything she was saying.  Being the neurotic wuss that I am, I had the feeling she was trying to set me up to get jumped. So I kept on looking around for somebody to jump out out of nowhere.  She kept on rambling on about the landlord and some check.  Maybe the word of mouth got around from the foreign bank teller that I was Jewish and she needed some financial advice? Hell if I know. Finally, I was able to get the heck out of there. The more I think about it, maybe I do need Bruno in my life to protect me. Bruno... Come back. Jonno misses you.

I'm Out!

Friday, December 11, 2009

Utah, a Mysterious Farter, and Top Chef

I am not a fan of the state of Utah. It has to be the most boring, scariest state to drive through in the world. I was doing a cross country drive from Chicago to Los Angeles, and it was my second day of driving. I was ready to call it a night and find a place to stop in Utah, since I was late, tired, and I only had a little gas left. Now normally, there are usually exits every ten miles or so for gas, food, and lodging. And if there isn’t a service exit, then there is a sign that tells you how long till the next one. Apparently Utah doesn’t see the need to follow those rules. Because there was nothing and I mean absolutely nothing telling me where I could get gas and stop. And I don’t know if you’ve ever driven through Utah before, but it is a creepy state to drive through at night. There are hardly any other cars, the roads are curvy, and there are these huge monstrous hills to the side of the road. It looks exactly like where “The Hills Have Eyes” took place. I never did see the movie because I’m a bit of a wimpy baby, but I do remember seeing the previews and covering my eyes.

(Need a hand Jonno?)

So this is going on for a half hour and I’m still not seeing any service exits. I’m at the point where I have absolutely no gas left. I do see a sign for an exit called “Salinas” that is about 15 miles away. I’m hoping that I can make it there, but even if I did make it to the exit there’s a good chance there would be no gas stations there. On top all of this, I wasn’t getting any service on my cell. So I then preceded to have a bit of a panic pany freak out attack. I created the scenario in my head where I have to pull over on the side of the road because I was out of gas. I couldn’t make a phone call because I wasn’t getting any service. So I then had to hitchhike for help. And then some large burly Mormon man, has his way with me and chops my head off. I know most Mormon people are friendly and non-violent, but the Mormon that I dreamt up in my head was a vicious psychopath. Fortunately, I finally arrived at the “Salinas” exit and there was a gas station. It was a friggin miracle! So I’m proud to say no large burly Mormon man had his way with me and chopped my head off. I still ended up hooking up with a large burly Mormon man, it was mutual consent.

Other McNuggets...

I’m beginning to think there is a mysterious farter following me wherever I go. Whether it’s at the gym, a restaurant, or a public restroom, the mysterious farter always knows how to find me. Please allow me to take a second to explain how the mysterious farter works… I’ll be at a public sink washing my hands and out of nowhere this toxic, heinous, fart smell will come out of nowhere. I then look around to see who did it, and there is nobody there. Then a few seconds later… Somebody will enter, smell then fart, and look at me as if I did it. When I’m 100 percent innocent. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been guilty of some horrid blasters in the past. But those were usually done in my own privacy. Mysterious farter, I don’t know who you are, but I’ll do whatever it takes to track you down! You got me?

-Since the whole Tiger Woods fiasco has been causing a lot of buzz, I figure I might as well give my awkward take on it. There is no doubt Tiger is an idiot for what he did and I don’t condone cheating for any reason. But can we really be that surprised? The guy is Tiger Woods. He’s only one of the most famous public figures in the world. On top of that he is traveling non-stop through out the year. So let’s say each time he goes out to a bar or a restaurant there’s probably eight women trying to hit on him. And let’s say he’s gone a hundred days out of the year. So that’s 800 women a year he has to turn down. For a man, that is extremely difficult. The majority of guys I know would not be able to turn down all those women. There are some exceptions, such as myself, given I’m a man of ethics and morals and also a bit of a wuss. But unfortunately most dudes I know would not be able to resist the temptation. I’m sure though that if Tiger had the mysterious farter following him around, all of this could have been avoided.

-So now that I’m in a new city, I of course had to join a new gym. I mean how else am I going to maintain this amazing physique? There happened to be a Bally’s right down the street from me. So I figured based on it’s convenience and price, I would just join that one. Now, I’ve never belonged to Bally’s. I know it’s a large chain and maybe not as nice as other gyms I’ve belonged to in the past, but I was okay with that. So I meet with one of the Sales Managers and he seems like a nice enough gent. He gives me a tour and frankly the gym looks like complete crap. The best way to explain twhat the gym looks like… Is imagine for whatever reason a gym and the people inside of it were frozen in 1991. And then by some miracle, the gym came to life in December’09. That’s exactly how it looked to me. So even though I was not impressed with the aesthetics of the place, for $25 I figured I would join. So right after I signed the dotted line, this schlubby guy walks in. He yells to the Sales Manager, “Hey, just so you know, some guy from the Health Inspection Department is taking pictures in the locker room. Why can’t you guys fix up that place already? It’s friggin disgusting!” I appreciate the information Mr. strange schlubby man. Where the hell were you three seconds ago?

-It’s assumed that when you are at a public place such as a coffee shop, it’s not the most polite thing to talk on the cell phone loudly. I mean you can have a conversation for a few minutes that is not disruptive and is socially acceptable. But apparently people who don’t speak English feel it is appropriate to yell on the phone and talk for a good hour. I don’t really understand the rationale there. Just because you speak a language we don’t understand you’re allowed to kick back, relax, and talk up a storm? That’s not fair! I can’t wait for the time I visit your country and start yacking loudly on my cell while you’re trying to get work done. I might get castrated and murdered for doing it, but it will be worth it to prove my point!

-I’ve turned into a big fan of Top Chef. I’m not really into cooking, but I think it’s more because the inner fat kid in me gets aroused. (He’s going through puberty) I watched the finale last night and I was pleased with who the winner was. I knew for the suspense it would come down to the two Voltaggio brothers. And even though that fat Kevin guy was talented, something about him annoyed the heck out of me. I must say I cannot stand the host, Padma Lakshmi. She must have the most boring personality and tone I’ve ever seen. She’s almost as bad as that buxom host for The Biggest Loser, Allison Sweeney. I really think instead of prescribing Ambien, they should just have Padma talk for five minutes and people would be knocked out cold in no time.
(Do I make you sleepy?)

-In weird couple news… Jessica Simpson is supposedly dating Billy Corgan. I’m not sure what the attraction there is for Jessica. But it proves the theory again to all you below average looking men out there… You wanna date a hot gal? Then you better be one hell of a musician. If you need some more clarification just ask that pudgy, weird looking, lead singer of the Counting Crows.

I'm Out!

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Wax On, Wax Off

It was brought to my attention from a doctor's appointment that I have a lot of ear wax build up. Sorry ladies and little boys... My sexy, hot beefcake self might not be as desirable as once thought. I've always associated ear wax build up with an elderly person. But as I've learned throughout my 28 years, I tend to get many symptoms that an elderly person would have. So I was kind of hoping that I could get the ear wax out myself with a cue tip, but apparently it was so far in my ear that I had to go to a specialist. I don't know why my general doctor couldn't attempt to get it out, but my guess is that he did not want to get anywhere near it. Can I blame him? Not really. So I ended up making an appointment with an ear, nose, and throat doctor. After waiting for about an hour, my name finally gets called. By the way, why is it that I see the weirdest friggin people in doctor's waiting rooms? On second thought, maybe I look weird to the other people too? Okay, I'm just gonna shut up now.

I explain to the doctor's assistant that I need to get my ears cleaned out. Her reaction made it seem like this was a normal occurrence, so that made me feel a bit more comfortable. The doctor's assistant leaves the room and tells me that they'll be right back to clean them out. Now, in my mind I pictured them using some type of instrument, like a scalpel or something to get the ear wax out. But apparently I was wrong. These two nurses walk in with this mega huge super soaker looking device. It looked like the hose that fireman use to put out a massive fire. The nurses put this large tarp over me and I my head is spinning from not knowing what the hell is going on. The one nurse fills up this super soaker thingy, while the other nurse holds a cup underneath my ear. It would've been nice to hear some type of explanation of what's going to happen, but instead they just got right down to business. The nurse with the super soaker walks over to me and precedes to shoot the water into my ear. And I'm not just talking about a little squirt or two. It felt like she was pouring all of Lake Michigan into my ear at a hundred miles per hour. And it friggin hurt folks! I wanted to cry, but the one percent of integrity I have was able to beat out the 99 percent of panziness I have. Usually the 99 percent always wins.

So after a few minutes of shooting this water into my ear. The ear, nose, and throat doctor runs into the room. I was excited to see the doctor, because I was hoping he could give me some sort of an explanation to what's going on and possibly protect me from the giant super soaker. Instead he says to me, "Your insurance stinks." What the hell? Do I not get a hello? The doctor goes on to give me a lecture about my health insurance. And how stupid of me it was to choose an insurance with a $5,000 deductible. As he is telling me all of this, the woman is shooting the water into my ear and I can barely tolerate the pain or comprehend what he is saying. I explained to the doctor I was working a contract job where I wasn't getting insurance. So I had to pay for it out of my own pocket and I couldn't afford insurance with a lower deductible. But my question is, what the hell happened to the usual doctor greeting? "Hello, my name is Dr. so-in-so... nice to meet you... (Handshake followed by an ass fondle) What? Are you trying to tell me your doctor never fondled your ass? Looks like you need to find a new doctor!

After berating me about how stupid my insurance was, the doctor finally left. It was now time to clean out the left ear. I couldn't believe I was only half-way done. I wanted to take a breather from the super soaker so I attempted to make some small talk with the nurses. And by the way, thank the Lord that these nurses weren't attractive. Not that I really have a chance with the majority of attractive females out there. But if I did have a chance, I can't imagine anyone would be attracted to an ear wax filled idiot with horrible insurance. I'm not an avid reader of Cosmo, but my hunch is those are not traits women look for in men. So I asked the nurses if my ear wax build up was normal or is it usually more than they are used to seeing. They replied that it's pretty above average. What the hell is wrong with the doctor's office? I got the doctor telling me how stupid my insurance is and I have the nurses telling me my ear wax build up is not normal. They might as well tell me I suck at life and I should go crawl in a bunker and isolate myself from society. What ever happened to the decency of making the patient feel good about themselves? Even if they have to lie to me.


So it's now time to clean out my left ear. For some reason the nurse, decides to use water that is extremely hot. I'm talking about water that would be too hot to wash your hands in. So now I don't only have to deal with the discomfort of the water pressure hitting my ear, but also the scorching hot water. They might as well kick me in the nuts and give me a wedgie too. Because I'm sure those things would feel better than this! Finally, they were done cleaning out the left ear. I couldn't even tell you how happy I was to be done with this. It was as if I had survived a war and come back home. One of the nurses then shows me the cup that was being held underneath my ear. She's like, "Look! You see how much wax you had in there?" My idiotic self then looks in the cup and I almost vomit. I don't mean to gross any of my awkward readers, but I could not believe the size of the wax and how that could possibly fit in my ear. It was like the size of a goldfish. The nurse then says, "I bet you can hear a lot better now." But the truth was I couldn't hear any better. The reason being, I still had water stuck in both of my ears because of the God damn high pressure super soaker!


I'm Out!

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

McNugget Bonanza

-It is becoming apparent to me how comfortable some men are being naked in the locker room. I'm not talking about ripped, physically fit men. I'm talking about middle-aged, out of shape, hairy, saggy men. I've always been a believer to keep my nakedness to myself, except for a select few lucky ladies out there.(Not including my mom) Don't ge me wrong, if I looked like Terell Owens nude, I would be shaking my ass with no towel on. Given that I look like a pasty white, hairy, teletubbie naked... I'm fully aware of my limitations.
(T.O.) (Jonno)

But after seeing many schlubby men with small wangs prance around the gym locker room... I'm beginning to think that I need to embrace my nakedness and be proud of who I am! (By the way, I wasn't really looking at the small wangs. I just kind of took a peek and looked away. What? Everybody peeks.)
-I'm having an issue with public bathroom sinks. You know the ones where you push down on the knob to turn it on? Well I can turn them on, but the problem is that I can never turn them off. I do everything possible with the knob to turn it off and I can't get the water to shut off. I try twisting it to the right, to the left, pushing down, pushing up.... I get nothing! So then I wonder if it's one of those automatic ones that go off on it's own. So then I'm standing there like an idiot, staring at the sink for a few minutes waiting for the water to stop. And it doesn't! I don't want to be rude and just walk out with the water running, but I'm out of options people! How in the hell do you turn these sinks off? On another note, I'm not the biggest fan of the hand sensor paper towel dispensers. I look like a retarded mime trying to perform on a street corner. Not there's anything wrong with that. I'm sure they make an honest living.
-First David Letterman and now dudes from ESPN getting caught having affairs with fellow staffers. What is going on? Look, I know cheating happens. It's something that is very common with adults in the workplace. But Steve Phillips, what the hell are you thinking? You have a lovely wife, four children, a great job, and you risk all of that for this gal?
(I think I rather hook up with the teletubbie.)
Are you kidding me? And this is after you already admitted to having a sexual addiction problem and had an affair while you worked for the Mets. I'm sorry, but you deserve everything that is coming. I would also like to clear up this whole myth of sexual addiction. Every single man is addicted to sex. If every man could get laid, they would as much as possible. But some of us don't have many options. Now celebrity, rich, and powerful men can have sexual relations whenever they choose. So therefore, they are the ones that always admit to having a sexual addiction problem. (Michael Douglas, David Duchovny, Russell Brand etc...) Now I myself don't have a sexual addiction problem because I'm too busy trying to figure out how to turn off public sinks.
-You know you're getting old when you enjoy Costco. I went there the other day and had a friggin blast. The fat kid and I were going ape shit over the samples. Every aisle I walked in there was another friendly older lady handing me a delightful chicken taquito or a cream puff. I must say though there are a few awkward moments with the samples. First of all, I feel like I have to make small talk with the sample lady. I have to show some type of interest in the sample and ask questions about it, even though there is no chance in hell I'm going to buy a 75 pack of egg rolls. Another thing is the second helping walk of shame. Sometimes samples are so good, I cannot help myself but return for another one. Customer code says that you take one and walk away. So when I go for seconds it is extremely awkward between me and the sample lady. I do my best to not make eye contact with them or another option is to wear some funny glasses in disguise. Or if you have some extra time on your hands such as myself, wait till there is a shift change and a new sample lady takes over. Then it's fair game. By the way, I've realized there may be a correlation between my love for the Costco samples and my teletubbie nakedness.

-So I had an interesting thing happened to me during the other night while I was sleeping. No it was not a wet dream, so get your head out of the gutter. I'm actually still waiting for my first one to happen, I got my fingers crossed. Anyways, I was having a dream which I can't remember too much of. But apparently there was this dude, who I'm not sure if I knew and he was making just the funniest faces that I have ever seen. And I could not stop laughing. Like it wasn't just a chuckle, it was like one of those uncontrollable laughs where you can't even breathe. I was laughing so much, I woke up and still laughed for another ten minutes. I don't know what the hell made this dude and his funny faces so hilarious, but it was if I had been injected with laughing gas. But why funny faces? The last time that made me laugh I was 2 years old and crapping my diaper. If some stranger were to make those faces to me, while I was awake I would have to punch him in the face. Okay maybe I wouldn't really punch anybody, but at least I would pinch them or pull their hair.

-I heard on the news that a woman named Susan Finkelstein put a posting on Craigslist to get Phillies World Series Tickets by offering sexual favors. She was arrested by an undercover cop and her lawyer's excuse was that she has a case of Philly fever. First of all, is there a funnier name than Susan Finkelstein? It sounds like the name of my Hebrew Teacher growing up. I also love the explanation too that she has case of Philly Fever. I believe the correct diagnosis should be Whorish Fever.
(Jonno repeat after me.... Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha-olam...)
I guess I can't really make fun of it, because I had White Sox fever back in 2005 when they made it to the World Series. The difference for me was that even though I already had World Series tickets, I was still giving out sexual favors. What can I say? I'm just very generous.
I'm Out!

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Sit and Reach, Letterman, and the Craz-E Burger

So apparently when you join a new gym, the standard procedure is to get a physical assessment with one of the head trainers. I must say I am not a fan of this, but given the team player I am... I went through with it. Plus, I thought it would be great material for my awkward readers... And it of course did not disappoint. So I meet the head trainer, the guy is built like an Adonis. Apparently, he was a defensive back at Iowa and played a little bit in the NFL. At this point I'm thinking we have a lot of common, since I've played Fantasy Football for about ten years. So first he weighs me in, which wasn't too bad since I've dropped a few lbs. So I'm feeling decent at this point. Next up, was the body fat percentage. That did not go as well. The body fat percentage was a little higher than I expected. I know you want to know what is, but I'm sorry that is confidential between my trainer and I. But I'll tell you it's below 100 and higher than 1. Next up was the bicep strength test. Why don't we, just skip the results of that test. Next up was the dreaded sit and reach. Right away, I had flashbacks to the physical fitness test in 6th grade and a chubby little Jonno trying to do the sit and reach and failing miserably. Well after 16 more years, apparently nothing has changed. Folks, lets call a spade a spade, I'm not very flexible. I think a brick wall has a better chance of doing a somersault before I do. I was so bad at the sit and reach, that I could barely reach the measuring ruler. It doesn't help that I'm somewhat of a taller gent, but it was just a truly pathetic display. It you could somehow find a YouTube video of me attempting the sit and reach, I'm sure it would break the record for hits. The best way to explain how it looks, is to picture a Panda Bear trying to give itself oral.

(Jonno, how about a little help here?)

Mr. Adonis's next test was to check my heart rate. He had me speed walk on a treadmill for about ten minutes. At this point, I thinking this was my time to shine. I jog two miles 4-5 times a week. So I figured I would pass this test with flying colors. No dice, I got a bad score on that too. I'll blame it on the after effects of the sit and reach. So then Mr. Adonis gave me my summary. He said right now I have the health of a 32-year-old, which is four years older than my current age. He said ideally he wants me to have the health of a 19 year-old. At this moment, I felt like I was on the Biggest Loser where that creepy doctor with a lisp, makes all the fat people cry when he tells them how unhealthy they are. But really who wants to be a 19 year old? I could see maybe 22 or 23. But 19? Does that mean I also have to go back to using my Delaware fake Driver's License too? By the way, Dover is the capital of Delaware. That's a good thing to know in case you have a fake ID from Delaware and a bouncer asks that. In summary, I don't want to be 32 nor do I want to be the young age of 19. I would like to be the age that I'm currently at. I would also like to do the sit and reach with more ease. And I'm sure Panda Bears would like to give themselves oral with more ease. Panda Bears... Let's work together on this. With hard work and determination, we can do it!

Other McNuggets...(I saw a woman eating a 10 piece McNugget at a food court recently. And I strongly debated punching her and stealing them. I did not because I against Female and McNugget abuse.)

-This Letterman stuff is crazy. The more and more I hear about, it just gets wackier and wackier. I'm usually not surprised when I hear somebody famous cheating. But I admit, with Letterman I was surprised. Given, that he is one of the most private celebrities out there. You never ever hear a peep about him nor see a picture of him. When I found out that the person he was having an affair with was Stephanie Birkitt, the PA/Intern who was was constantly on the show. Whenever, I was watching Letterman and saw her on there, I always found it curious as to why she was always on the show. And obviously now it all makes sense. Mr. Letterman, I think you're one of the funniest people in history, but how dumb can you be? To constantly showcasw the person you're sleeping with on the show, when you never had another PA/Intern on there. Isn't that a little suspicious? In other talks show news, it's being reported that Jimmy Kimmel is dating the head writer. What's going on here with all these talk show hosts being pimps? Is Oprah the only one that doesn't get laid? Come on, we all know Stedman bats for the other team.

-I went to go see "Zombieland" the other day. The movie was alright, it was bit gruesome at times but entertaining. One problem with seeing a R rated Zombie movies are the trailers. I am a big fat wuss. I do not handle scary movies well at all. So I'm watching this one trailer, it starts off kind of peaceful. This pregnant young woman and her husband are at some rural diner. A nice old lady approaches the pregnant woman. And she politely asks, "Are you pregnant" And the woman replies, "Yes I am." The old lady then says, "Oh that's nice." So I'm thinking, okay maybe this isn't a scary movie and instead something nice and calm . Then out of nowhere, the Old lady says in a devilish voice, "You're baby is going to burn!" and then tries to take a bite out of the pregnant woman. I literally almost jumped out of my seat. I strongly debated running to my car and hiding underneath it, while I sucked my thumb. But good God that was frightening. So thinking I was done with the scariest trailer, the next one was the new Freddy Kreuger movie. I said a Mother F'er under my breath and stared at the ground until it was over. Note to self: Only go to G-Rated movies or don't enter the theater until the trailers are done.

-People in Chicago have no idea how lucky they are that the Olympics did not come here. I couldn't believe how disappointed everybody was when they found out news. It was as if some monumental person died or something. Do they realize what it would've been like? Ridiculous crowds of people, horrible traffic, threats to the public's safety etc... Wait a second, Chicago already has all of those things. Never mind.

-So I hear Russell Brand and Katy Perry are an item now. I'm sure Mr. Brand is dating her after reading one of my previous entries, where I discussed how Ms. Perry's attractiveness is very underrated. So he wanted to beat me to her. I get that. I am threatening figure. But let's be realistic here... I give this a few months, tops. And Katy when you need to somebody to be there for you after a difficult break-up, I'm only 101 feet away. (The Restraining Order stated I couldn't be within 100 feet)

-Speaking of stalking... I am the only one who is getting harassed by Micah Carter in my gmail? Micah Carter I have no idea who the hell you are, but you have to be the most annoying individual on the planet. Because you literally send me a spam e-mail daily. And they're always personalized too, like we're best buds or something. Micah I don't know you and frankly don't want to know you. Maybe you can wine and dine me sometime and change my mind. But as of right now, leave me the hell alone! Geez, now I know how Katy Perry feels.

-I like greasy food just as much as the next guy. But I have to admit, when I heard about the Krispy Kreme's "Craz-E Burger" it made me nauseous. The Craz-E Burger contains a beef patty, two strips of bacon, melty gooey cheese, and sandwiched between two glazed donuts. The sandwich contains 1,500 calories. I mean who in their right mind would want to eat that? Instead of using weapons and guns on people. I say you give them a Craz-E Burger if you want to kill them. That way it's less violent and dangerous. Hey Micah Carter.... How about a Crazy-E Burger? It's on the house.
(At least it's Kosher)

-I must say I'm very excited about the return of the Real World/Road Rule challenge "The Ruins". That's right. You heard me. I'm not afraid to admit it. I don't know what it is, but that show entertains the shit out of me. And recently I discovered that the veteran Brad(Real World San Diego) works out at my gym. When I saw him I almost screamed like a little school girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. But I was able to contain myself. There's no need to have two restraining orders against me. Instead, I just went up to him and asked if he could spot me in the shower.

I'm Out!

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Do You Want Me To Be Honest With You?

I've come to the realization that the worst thing to hear somebody say is "Do you want me to be honest with you?" Whether it was from a girlfriend, a person's response to a script I wrote, or a manatee(I had to put something random in there), I've only heard horrible things come from those words. Well it happened again last week, when I could sense something was going on at work. So I went into my Supervisor's office to find out what the dillio was? (Has anybody said that word dillio since 1993?) The Supervisor says the famous words, "Do you want me to be honest with you?" At that point, I should've just ran out of the room and hid underneath my desk, while I sucked my thumb. Because I knew it was going to be something horrible. It's not like somebody would ever say to you, "Do you want me to be honest with you?" And then follows it with, "God you are the most amazing person in the world." So after the Supervisor says those words to me, I of course nodded and prepared to brace myself. And he then says, "Your last day is Friday." Mother F'er! I knew it! I really think we need to reconsider those words in the English Language and substitute them with "Are you ready to hear some really shitty stuff that's going to make you feel like crap?"

Other McNuggets(Chicken Select Strips? What an insult to the McNugget family!)

-Earlier this week was the Jewish holiday, Yom Kippur. Yom Kippur is the wonderful holiday where we get to starve ourselves for 24 hours. Don't be jealous, I know it beats the hell out of happy Christmas songs and Easter Egg hunts. Anyways, if you know anything about me... It's that I'm a fan of eating. So I'm sitting in Temple a bit tense and bothered, since all I can think of is a Gordita from Taco Bell.
(Come on, eat me Jonno. You know you want to.)


For some reason whenever I'm hungry, my brain always turns to Taco Bell. And then when I finally get it, I'm like this really isn't that good. But then a few months later, I crave it again. It's the weirdest thing. Anyway, I'm sitting at Temple and it's the part of the service where the Rabbi gives his sermon. This is usually, where I space out big time and think about Jonno's Happy Place (Muppets, rainbow sprinkles, breasts, and now Gorditas) The sermon is about the recession. Shocker. Strangely, the Rabbi starts telling recession jokes. His first one was "The recession is so bad, I got a pre-declined credit card in the mail." Everybody laughs and I'm thinking okay he started off with a joke and that would be it. But no I was totally wrong. The Rabbi goes into a series of recession jokes. I felt like I was at Giggles Comedy Club and was waiting for Gilbert Gottfriend to come out and start yelling at us. His next joke was, "It's so bad, McDonalds is now introducing the 1/4-Ouncer" Everybody in the Temple is cracking up and practically falling off their chairs. I figured he would be done, but he wasn't. He finally closed with, "The economy is so bad that parents in Beverly Hills are considering raising their own children." I know the Rabbi was trying to give us some humor to take a break from the boredom and the fasting, but it just seemed awkward and out of place. Do you want me to be honest with you Rabbi? You stink at comedy.

-I was helping my sister move this past weekend. Okay, maybe I wasn't really helping. I was more just staring, scratching my ass, and picking my nose. But anyway, being a professional mover has to be one of the worst jobs out there. You have to lift heavy shit all day. And it's not like you have to do it once and you're done. You have to carry it again, into the new place that the customer is moving into. God, I would be brutally bad at that job. Another job that I would be bad at would be a Taxi Driver. I've always hated driving, when there are strangers in the car. To add on to that, I would also be a bad stripper. For one thing, I'm not that flexible. I never did good with the sit and reach in gym class. And if you want me to be honest with you, I'm much more attractive clothed than naked.

-Fantasy Football has really turned me into a bitter, angry, old man. It's totally ruined any enjoyment of watching football games. I hardly ever watch the actual game, instead all I do is stare is at the stat ticker at the bottom of the screen. And I don't really ever say anything, all I do is just sit there with a scowl on my face. It's almost like I have somehow morphed into Clint Eastwood from "Gran Torino."
(Aaron Rodgers throw a friggin TD and get off my lawn!)

-I think I finally found a new funny show on network television. Yes people, I just said network television. It's called "Modern Family". It's like a mix between "The Office" and the movie "Parenthood". I've seen the first two episodes and I've actually laughed out loud. Which is a rare occurrence for me. I think the last time I laughed during a TV show, was "ALF". Why can't they make shows like that anymore? God, I miss that little furry guy.

-So I joined a new gym recently. Yeah that's right, you heard me. Got a problem with that? Look at me, I've already turned into a meathead. I never realized how big of a commitment it is. It's almost like I'm entering a one year relationship with somebody. Except there's no comfortable, constant sex. Unless, I meet a nice gent in the shower. Can you say soap chase? Apparently part of the deal of joining a gym, is that you have to do a physical assessment with one of the trainers. And I already know what they're going to tell me. "Do you want me to be honest with you?" I nod yes. "You should just cancel your membership because there's really no way we can help you."


I'm Out!

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Wet Cement, Gerald Butler, and BBWs

A few blogs ago(Yellow Tape, A Smiley Haitian, and Jennifer Anniston), I had mentioned that I had an incident where I stepped into wet cement. It was a horribly idiotic and embarrassing moment in my life. A moment that I assumed would never happen ever again. If you wanted to bet on it in Vegas, the odds would be set at 100 to 1. So in other words, a long shot. The other day I was walking down the street after a doctor's appointment. I was a bit distorted from the appointment and I had to make another phone call to set up an appointment with another doctor. Okay the secret is out people... I'm getting a sex change. Chaz Bono and I are swapping body parts. Is it just me or does Chaz Bono share a resemblance to Uncle Kracker? Anyway... I'm walking down the street, trying to make a phone call... And all of the sudden my foot feels stuck. I look down to see what the issue was and it happened again. I had stepped in wet cement that apparently had not dried. But this one was way worse. First of all, I had both feet in the cement. The previous time, I only had one foot. And this cement was way deeper and wetter. It was almost like this cement was the big angry mother of the previous one and was getting payback on me for stepping on her child. The closest thing I can compare to stepping in wet cement is when you get depantsed by somebody. You kind of just stand there for a few moments in shock. When the shock went away, the next thing to look for... Did anybody see this? Immediately, I see three younger dudes laughing their asses off. They are having a friggin ball at my expense. And rightfully so I must say. If I saw some bumbling, fumbling idiot step in wet cement, it would truly make my day too. I look to the right and the construction guys are furious at me. They look like they are ready to beat my ass. I mean who knows how long it took for them to put this cement down that I had ruined.

My next step was to get out of the cement. At this point, both of my shoes are demolished. And the ironic thing is that I was wearing the same jeans when it happened before. I swear I always have an article of clothing that is cursed and bad things always happen whenever I wear it. I had this one zip-up Abercrombie Tan sweater, where the worse shit would happen to me whenever I wore it. So I had to give it away because I couldn't take it anymore. So if I have another incident like this, the Seven Jeans are going to a nice young man named Ogbay in Ethiopia. So as I was saying, I'm trying to get out of the cement and I take my left foot out. My foot comes out of my shoe and the shoe is stuck by itself in the cement. I look to see if the three young guys have left, unfortunately they haven't. They are practically on the ground laughing hysterically. Oddly enough, my right foot made it out okay. So here I am standing with one shoe on, while the other one is stuck in the cement. A very angry, Hispanic construction worker approaches me and gets my shoe out from the cement. He stares at me with complete and utter disgust. I didn't know what to say to him. I knew an apology wasn't enough, but I still said sorry regardless. The construction worker begins to yell at me in broken English. "You and Phone! Bad! No phone and walk! Bad! It was as if my father was yelling at me after something stupid I did. Even though I couldn't understand a word he was saying, I knew he was right. So I didn't know what to say to him. I was like, "You're right. Okay?" As I exit and do the walk of shame, I notice on the other side of the wet cement, a friendly construction worker is guiding people as they walk by to prevent them from walking into it. Why in the hell was there no construction worker guiding me on the side I entered? It was like night and day between the two sides. On the other side, the construction worker was smiling, giving back massages, and handing out snow cones. While on the side I enter on, I get my shoe stuck in cement, 3 dudes laugh their asses off at me, and a Hispanic construction worker yelling at me in broken English. Not fair!

Other McNuggets(Honey Mustard Dipping sauce... Mmmmmm...)

-I was going down the elevator from the 20th floor at work. My stomach started rumbling a little bit. So I thought it would be a good time for me to let one go. A second later the elevator stops at the 19th floor. Five people barrel into the elevator and into my gas. Let's just say, I got a lot of uncomfortable looks. Note to self: It's never safe to fart in an elevator.

-You know you are in a highly emotional state, when you start crying during HBO's "Hard Knocks". What can I say? It got me when the mother started crying, after she saw her son on the NFL field for the first time. This pathetic event made me wonder to myself, when was the last time I cried during a movie/TV show? And it was when I was about six or seven and I would cry whenever I watched "Karate Kid". I hated the part when that douche Johnny dude beat the crap out Ralph Macchio towards the final fight and it looked liked he had no chance to win. Man, that always got me.

-What's going on with Gerald Butler these days? Is he the male counterpart to Elizabeth Banks? When I saw "Inglorious Bastards", the dude was in three of the previews that I saw. Hollywood, can we have a little more variation here instead of shoving the same damn actor down our throats? And who does this Gerald Butler guy think he is? Has he ever been a good movie? I know he was in that 300 Spartan crap, but I never saw that. The only movie I've ever seen him in was "P.S. I Love You." And that movie sucked more than stepping in wet cement for the second time. I'm really not looking very masculine right now, between the crying and admitting that I saw "P.S. I Love You."
(P.S. I Love Jonno)

-I was in Best Buy paroozing DVD's. And let me tell you, they were some very manly, masculine DVD's. So this Best Buy representative walks by me and says "Are you okay boss?" Now I have to say, I'm not a fan of the being called boss. I'm not saying I should be this well respected individual because I don't even respect myself. But boss? Come on! Who says that? And what does it mean? Does it mean that I look like the total opposite of a real boss, so that's the irony in calling me that? Is it kind of like how you would walk up to a hideous ugly looking person and say to them, "How's it going good looking?" To make a long story short, I purchased "P.S. I Love You" and got the hell out of there.

-When you're sitting on airplane, waiting to see which passengers are sitting next to you. It's almost comparable to your first day of school, when you are curious to see which people are in your classes. I feel the same way when I'm on airplane, trying to scout out which people I will be stuck with for the next few hours. So I was fortunate enough to get an aisle seat in an Emergency exit row. So at this point, I'm thinking life is good. A bit of an older, bigger man comes into my row and has the window seat. No biggie, I still got the buffer middle seat. Then a BBW (Big Beautiful Woman) sits directly across from me. BBW is putting it nicely, let's just say she asked for a belt extension. But again, not a big deal because she was across from me. Finally another BBW approaches me and of course she is in the middle seat next to me. So in a way, I was in this BBW sandwich. Which is much better for a porn site, then on a plane.


(Can I sit next to you?)

She was nice enough lady, but I'm surprised given her stature why she would select a middle seat. Because her body overlapped into my seat, so my arm was pressed up against her. Am I turning you on? Because I am! To make matters worse, she's starting yacking it up with the guy sitting by the window. Then the BBW sitting across from me opens up her Diet 7-Up bottle and it sprays all over me. Not a good flight for the boss.

I'm Out!

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Possum Haircuts, Gawking, and Katy Perry

The other day I went to get a haircut. I did not make an appointment, so I was hoping to get a walk-in. The first place I went to, there were four of five people sitting down waiting. So that was not going to work. I then went into another barbershop and they told me they had nothing available until 11am. Apparently, I did not get the memo that it was get your haircut day. With the mindset the third time is the charm, I saw a sign for "Michael's Barbershop". So I waddled inside and there were no customers. Finally! There was a middle-aged man in a barber's uniform and some younger suave looking guy sitting in the barber's chair. I couldn't tell if he worked there or was a customer. Because he didn't look like a guy who worked at a barbershop. I usually prefer older, ugly men to cut my hair. So I was hoping the barber looking guy would approach me, but instead the suave looking dude did. Immediately I thought to myself, "Shit!"

So right away I got the impression that this suave guy reeked of doucheness. I sat down in the chair and I told him I wanted my usual fade. He had trouble understanding how I wanted my hair to be cut. And he also talked in this low, quiet, mumbling voice where it was near impossible to hear him. So he starts making small talk with me. He asks me where I was from and then I asked him where he was from. He replied, "Michigan". So being the great conversationalist that I am, I asked why did he move to Chicago. He replies, "Why do you think? For the chicks man." Right then I debated if I should take the blow dryer and clobber him in the face with. "For the chicks man"? Have you ever heard a more douchey comment in your life? Who the hell talks like that? I think the last person who talked like that was the Fonze. I did my best to compose myself and let him finish my haircut. So he asked how I want my hair cut on the sides. And I usually like it fairly short. So he asks, if I usually have my sides cut with clippers. I really hate when they ask me these questions because I never know the answer. Especially the question of what number to set the razor on. I can never remember for the life of me. Not knowing the answer, I said yes to using the clippers.

So he starts shaving the sides of my head and it looks EXTREMELY short. I mean it looks like he's giving me a Mohawk or one of these 90's skater boy cuts. It was that short people! I didn't know what to do. Could I stop him? Was it too late? Was there enough time to salvage this disaster? In a freaked out panic, I practically leaped out of my chair and yelled out "Stop!" He looks at me quizzically. I'm like, "Don't you think you're going a little too short on the sides. It looks really short". He replies, you said you wanted clippers. Well hello Mr. Douche McGee! Had I known clippers meant Mohwak/Skateboard kid shaved sides, then I would've said no! So he looks at me like, "What the hell do you want me to do?" There wasn't really much he could do since he had already started this mess. So he tells me that he's going to blend it on the sides. But it was too late. It was literally the worse haircut I have gotten in my life. On top of that, he sucked at life and it cost $30! When he was done with me, I looked like a mentally challenged possum. It was horrible. I was embarrassed to even walk outside. It was so bad homeless men couldn't even look at me in the eye. They actually gave me money. Who knows? Maybe the retarded possum haircut can become the new George Clooney?

(Do I turn you on?)

Other McNuggets....

-I really think the gawking that men do has gotten out of control. Don't get me wrong, when an attractive female walks by, I'll take a look, but quickly look away. But these gawker dudes I see on the streets don't really hide it that well. It's almost like they become hypnotized when they are intrigued by a woman and start walking backwards uncontrollably like a zombie. To add to that, what has happened to the gawker standards? Maybe it's the economy, but lately if a girl is 200 pounds or under and can breathe she will most likely be gawked at. What we need are some mentally challenged possum haircuts for women, which will help reduce the amount of uncomfortable gawking. Who's with me?

-I was driving in my car the other day... And I got caught picking my nose by a female in the car next to me. It was a very awkward situation. There really is no good way to bounce back from getting caught during a pick. The best way to explain the feeling, is when a fat kid gets caught taking a cookie from the cookie jar. It sucks, but it was totally worth it.

-It is it just me or are pigeons flying lower and lower these days? Yesterday, I was waddling down the street and a pigeon literally grazed by head. I don't believe it defecated on me or anything, but I definitely felt like my personal space was violated. I wonder if there is a correlation between the pigeon grazing my head and the mentally challenged possum hairdo?

-I'm not gonna lie, I see some weird shit on my daily walk to work. I was walking in this alley and I see some guy wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses hunched over a garbage dumpster. There was another man standing next to him reading a newspaper. I had no idea what was going on, so I kept looking over at him. It looked like he was smelling the garbage. Then I look back again and I thought he was snorting coke or something. So I turn back and look again and out of nowhere a waterfall of a Mountain Dew looking vomit shoots out his mouth like no other. I guess really nothing good can from gawking. Even if it's same sex gawking.

-Speaking of gawking, I really gotta thing for this Katy Perry gal. Not only are her songs not too bad, but she's pretty easy on the eyes. She looks my friend Zooey Deschanel, but with some curves added. I just thought I would share that with you.
(Do I turn you on?)

-I was flipping channels on the Tele and I came across the Khloe and Kourtney Kardashian reality show. What the hell? Why is this show on my TV? So let me get this straight... First we have a girl named Kim Kardashian on TV because her father was O.J.'s lawyer, her mom got re-married to Bruce Jenner, and she did a sex tape with Brandy's brother. Neither of those things warrant a TV show or fame. So now, we have her sisters with their own show, who are even less revelant. So what's next? A show on Kim Kardashian's underwear skid marks? Actually, I probably would watch that.

-And finally, I have joined the twitter craze. So feel free to follow me at http://twitter.com/awkwardjonno... And right now we have a special campaign, where every person that follows me gets a complimentary mentally challenged possum haircut.

I'm Out!

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

500 Days of an Awkward Summer

I'm kind of a big deal these days... Okay not really, but I like to tell myself that. Recently, I went to the premiere of "500 Days of Summer". The Romantic Dramedy starring Joesph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel. I knew Joesph Gordon-Levitt and the director were going to be in attendance, but I wasn't expecting anybody else. I sat down in the very crowded theater and saw this female sit a few seats down from me. And she looked just like Zooey Deschanel. I don't have many talents in life, but one of the few that I do have is spotting celebrities. I have a pretty good percentage rate of spotting them. I would say around a 75% success rate. So I'm sitting down in my aisle seat. (Btw, I never understood the whole sitting in the middle of the row? Does it really make a difference? Personally, I rather have the extra room.)

Anyway, she is sitting down in the same row as me. This guy needs to squeeze in the row, so being the polite gent that I am, I get up and allow him adequate space to squeeze by. He thanks me and we make-out. Kidding, I just gave him a reach around. It turns out this guy was Zooey's date/BF. A few minutes later, Zooey walks by me and I get up to allow her out of the row. She apologizes for making me get up again and promises it will be the last time. Being the witty guy that I am, I thought I would drop a little humor on her. So I say in a joking/sarcastic tone, "Well, it better be the last time!" The problem was that my tone was way off. It was almost like the devil took control over my vocal chords and prevented me me from my intended joking tone. So Zooey gives me a dirty look and walks away. Here was my chance, to impress one of the hot actresses out there and I blew it. To make matters worse, when she came back she entered on the opposite side of the row to avoid me. This is why I stick to writing rather than performing.

Other McNuggets...

-The other day it started raining on my walk to work. Instead of getting poured on, I thought I would catch the next bus that went by. So I waddle over to the nearest bus stand, and there is an African-American midget sitting on the bench and he appears to be cutting himself with some sort of object on his pant leg. If it was Webster or Garey Coleman, I would've felt more secure. But since it wasn't, I decided to forget about the bus and walk in the rain.

-Speaking of midgets... I recently read "The Orphan" script. I decided not to see it in theaters, because I didn't want to be sleeping with the light on in my parent's bed for a month. Apparently the twist (Spoiler) is that the Orphan is not really a young girl, she is a 30-year-old woman who suffers from a form of Dwarfism, who used to be a prostitute and escaped from a mental institution in Russia. I am now having second thoughts about the little boy I adopted that looks exactly like Verne Troyer. I may have to bring him back.

-I've come to the realization that whenever I see dudes email or text "LOL", there's a good chance they are a homosexual. I'm not sure why I feel this way, I have no statistical data to prove this. But whenever I see a male "LOL", I get an image of an extremely high-pitch laugh, with his hand tilted downward, as he drinks a Pina Colada.

-The most annoying song right now, without a doubt has to be the Black Eye Peas "I Got A Feeling." It is playing non-stop everywhere! If the song ends on one radio station and then I switch to another station, it comes on again! To make it worse they're using the song in TV and Films. CBS is using it as their Advertising Campaign for their prime time schedule. And how the hell is this even a song? A mentally challenged panda bear could write these lyrics... "Tonight's gonna be a good good night..." And tonight is NOT gonna be a good night. It's going to be a shitty night just like the rest of them! So stop misleading me and playing the damn song!

-I would like to be serious for a moment and mention how saddened I am, from the loss of John Hughes. In my opinion he is the best writer in film history. I know that is a strong statement, but if you look at the movies he put out year after year in the 80's, it is truly remarkable. His films had the ability to remain timeless and were the type you could watch a million times. I never understood why he stopped making films so early. His last directed film was in 1991. I heard rumors that his wife got tired of the LA lifestyle so they moved back to Illinois, but nobody knows for sure. It's too bad he doesn't get the recognition he deserves, until he passes away. But that's the way it kind of works these days. Thank you Mr. Hughes, for giving us the endless laughs and entertainment and hopefully one day I will be half the writer you were.

I'm Out!

Friday, June 19, 2009

Mysterious Phone Calls, Stares, and Peepholes

So a few weeks ago, I get a strange call on my work phone. I thought it was the receptionist, so I picked up. Apparently she was transferring somebody to me. I answer the phone and it's this dude with a radio DJ voice. "Hey there Jon how's it going? This is so-in-so and I'm a Sigma Pi from Eastern Illinois University... I found your profile on Linkedin and I'm going to be in the area, so I was wondering if you would want to grab coffee or something?" I obviously had no desire to sit down and talk to some complete stranger. At the same time, I didn't know what to say. I'm too much of a puss to be a complete dick. But why would I even talk this guy? We went to completely different colleges. Does this mean I'm obligated to talk to every single Simga Pi, from colleges all across the U.S.?

We start talking about Tony Romo(The NFL QB and now former BF of Jessica Simpson) because the guy went to the same college as him. And being the football dork that I am, I of course give into the conversation. I mean, if Charles Manson wanted to talk NFL with me, I would discuss it with him. So in order to put the kibosh on the conversation and put the ball in my court, I pulled the old, "Hey, let me get your info so I can call you later." So I write down his info with no intention of calling him back. And I'm thinking case closed, I'm done with this guy.


Let's cut to a few days ago, I get another phone call from the receptionist. Being the diligent employee that I am, I answer it right away. And it's the friggin Fraternity guy again. He says "Hey Jon, remember me? We talked about Tony Romo?" Of course I remembered this idiot, how could I forget? He's like, "So would you be up for meeting up this Wednesday?" I wasn't in the best mood that day, because I was PMSing. So I cut to the chase... "Look, I'm kind of busy right now, is there something I can help you with?" It was obvious to me he wanted something, but I didn't know if it was a reach around or a cookie. He replies " Well I work for Northwestern Mutual and I wanted to go over some investing possibilities with you." Of course, he wanted my money. So I tell him... "I'm sorry, but I'm not in a position right now where I can help you." After a few moments of awkward silence... He says, "Is it alright if I call you in six months, to see if you're interested?" (Note to self: Consider getting rid of Linkedin Profile.)

-Speaking of strange phone calls... I got a peculiar Voice Message on my cell phone. It was some guy in a foreign accent, that sounded like Ozzie Guillen. I had trouble deciphering the message, but it was something along the lines of.... "This message is for Jonno... There is something you need to take care of. And if you don't call back, the decision will be made." What the hell is this dude talking about? I didn't know what to think. Did he have my parents tied up in some warehouse and was holding them for ransom? Was he another member of my Fraternity that wanted to talk about investing? I had no idea and it scared the shit out of me. So I called the number back and it's the Foreign guy. I was ready to burst out, "What do you want? And what did you do with my family?" Fortunately, I was able to compose myself and give a normal greeting. To make a long story short, the guy worked for a Collection Agency and apparently I owed money for a cleaning that was done to an apartment I rented in LA. In any case I was relieved because I had no idea what this guy wanted. The ironic thing is that when I went home to see my family, they were indeed tied up. Except it was done for other reasons. Ba-dum-bum-CHING! (Rimshot)

-Speaking of Tony Romo from my earlier rant, I was not shocked to see he broke up with Jessica Simpson. This seemed like it was doomed from the start. But is it gay of me, that a reunion of Jessica and Nick Lachey excites me? I have no idea why I would even care, but the thought of a "Newlyweds" Sequel makes me want to skip around the streets with animated hearts shooting out of me, as I sing love ballads from "Grease".

-Speaking of being gay, I caught an episode of the new TV Show "Dating In The Dark". What a fantastic idea, I must say. If I had dated in the dark during my bachelor days, I would have done a killing. I'm like a Brad Pitt meets Casanova combo when the other person can't see what I look like. When you can see me, I'm more like a stammering, stumbling, Urkel meets 40-Year-Old Virgin Combo.

-For some reason I get a lot stares from people. I'm not sure exactly why that is. I know we look at everybody. But the looks that I get, are more of a leering stare that lasts longer than the normal two second glance. If I was wearing a thong, while I juggled baby seals, and fireworks shot out of my ass, then that would justify the staring. Usually, I'm just going about my daily business and walking down the street when I get these peculiar stares. The other day, I was driving to the airport and this Asian older man who was driving beside me was apparently smitten by me. He literally turned his head while he was driving, so he could not see the road just to look at me. After a good 7-8 seconds of staring, I figured it would be over with, since I was going to the "Departutes" lane and he was going to the "Arrivals" lane. But I was wrong. The Asian man literally pulled an "Exorcist" move, where it appeared his head had spun around, just so he could get a longer look. I really need to start driving with clothes on. Ba-dum-bum-CHING!

-I heard that there is a nude online video of ESPN Sports Reporter, Erin Andrews. Apparently it's not one of those sex videos where she taped herself. Some sick dude, recorded her through a peephole while she was in her a hotel room. Now, I have not looked at this video because I am a man of integrity and also there is the fear of getting a virus on my computer. (Which has been reported from viewing the video). But this is some sick shit I must say. If you really want to see a naked, attractive, ample bosomed female... There are thousands of willing females on the internet, where you don't have to look through a hotel room peephole. I could not even fathom if there was a video taken of me in a hotel room. And I'm sure nobody would really want to see it, since it would consist of me lying on the bed in my underwear, eating chicken wings, while watching a marathon of "That's So Raven".

I'm Out!

Monday, June 01, 2009

Teeth Whitening Ads, A Sneezing Asian, and "The Hangover"

As I've been surfing the Internet latley, I've been noticing these extremely distracting and repulsive web ads for teeth whitening. I don't know where they've come from all of the sudden, but they're everywhere. Maybe part of this stimulus package went into teeth whitening advertising, because that would be the only way to explain this catastrophe. I mean, here I am chowing down on a sub at my desk... Enjoying every single scrumptious bite like it’s my last. I’m perusing around the Internet... And then boom! A disgusting ad pops up out of nowhere, of somebody's yellow buttery teeth staring right at me. I can almost compare it to having an intimate moment with yourself or another person and then an image of your parents pops into your head. (It’s never happened to me personally, but friends have told me about it.)
It's not like the ad is small, they of course have to zoom in 500% and take up half of my screen. To make it worse, the "after" picture is almost equally as disturbing. It's a picture of an African American male mouth's with his pearly white teeth, but his lips are more chapped and dry than a deserted desert. (Spelling Tip: "Dessert" has two "S's" because you always want seconds.) Whoever is the graphic designer for these ads needs to be taken into custody immediately, shipped to some Third World Country and never be allowed to come back here. I mean what's next here? Small Penis/Enlargement Ads? By the way, does anybody know a good surgeon? (It's not for me of course. It's for a friend.)

-I was in the security line at the airport over the holiday weekend... And the line was absolutely going nowhere. There was a young Asian lady behind me and she began repeatedly sneezing. After her initial sneeze, I politely turned my head just to get some reassurance that she was indeed covering her mouth. Since, you know that's what NORMAL people do. As I peeked behind me I noticed she was not making any attempt to cover her mouth, and with the Swine Flu, SARS, and Mad Cow disease.(I'm just trying to think of a third one) I'm not gonna lie, I became a little neurotic. I mean it's one thing if her sneezes were dry. But as Larry David once said, "You can never assume dry." What also made it difficult was that she was behind me, so it's not like I had eyes in back of my head and I could protect myself from her repeated infectious sneezes. My only other option was to turn around and stand backwards in the security line. I think then I would have freaked her out and most likely been taken away by security for improper leering. (I've had previous offenses) I guess the only option is to suck it up and by one of those Michael Jackson Homo Swine Flu Masks.

(This is my ex Julio. I miss him.)

-I was trying to close a drawer at my GF's home, but it would not close for some reason. This drawer is home to the aluminum foil and storage bags, so thinking it were something of that nature stuck towards the back I reached my hand in the drawer to remove whatever was preventing it from closing. Stuck in the roof of the drawer was this random picture that looked like it was taken from the early 90's... In the picture was a male stripper in a thong with his ass sticking out and some unidentified girl trying to insert some object into him. I must say, it wasn't the best picture to find in your significant other's home. I would have much preferred to have found a picture of little puppies and bunnies having a nice delightful picnic in a park. I confronted the GF and she started laughing because she had no idea where the picture came from. She thinks the picture might have belonged to the previous condo owner. I'll take her word for it. But when she finds my midget porn collection, all I can say is... Jonno has some leverage!

-I saw a screening of "The Hangover" last week. And I must say, it is pretty darn hilarious. (Prediction: Zach Galifianakis is going to be the next comedy star.) He was that good. So right before the film starts, this woman in her 50's sits directly behind me. No it was not the sneezing Asian, but I think I would have preferred her. I had my phone out because my friend was running late. She asks me "Is your phone a LG?" I replied, "I don't believe so." Thinking I was out of the woods with this woman, she then asks, "How do you get your phone to vibrate? I don't know how to get mine to." Are we serious? Has this woman been in a coma for 8 years and just recently bought her first cell phone? And why am I the first person she has to ask on how to use a phone? Was I wearing an AT&T customer representative thong that was sticking out of my ass? (Sorry, I still can't get the male stripper image out of my head.) Being the nice guy that I am, I told her that I just press the volume buttons on the left side of my phone to the lowest level. And she's like, "Well, I don't have those." Fortunately, she found someone else to bother with her phone questions. Thank the Lord!

The movie begins and the cell phone incompetent woman decides to laugh at every single joke. Her laugh was this ear-deafening chuckle that felt like it lasted for an eternity. She would also add her own commentary such as, "Oh No” or “Good God..." If you haven't noticed I'm not really the type of person who can tune stuff out. And why is it that these buffoons always show up at the last minute? I swear it always happens that way. Fortunately, the movie was funny enough where I was still able to enjoy it despite her interjections, but God that woman was ridiculous. If only I could have figured out a way to put her on vibrate. (Get it? Like the phone?)

I'm Out!

Monday, May 11, 2009

Mother's Day, Wet Dreams, and Matthew McConaughey

A Happy Mother's Day to all!

When speaking about this topic, there is one Mother's Day that stands out from all the others. It was about ten years ago now and the whole family went to go see the film "Election", starring Matthew Broderick and Reese Witherspoon. I had not heard much about the movie, except that it was an independent film produced by MTV. I admit I was a little suspicious of the movie, because I knew it was a dark comedy, but my mom wanted to see it. This was of course her day, so there was nothing I could really do to dissuade her. We got to the theater, plopped down in our seats, shoveled popcorn into our mouths (it must be a genetic thing), got comfortable, and then the movie began. It was probably only one minute into the movie when Matthew Broderick's character has a conversation with his co-worker (who is apparently having an affair with one of his students). This character bluntly states "Her pussy gets so wet, you wouldn't believe it!" At this point my whole family is frozen in the moment; my Mom, Dad, older sister and me. That thing you fear the most whenever you see a movie with your parents, had just happened. Now, I realize some parents are different than others, but my Dad is not the person you want to be sitting next to when there is any mention of sex. I don't know what it is, but his presence and reaction magnifies the awkward level to the 100th degree. I mean did the screenwriter really have to start off with that line of dialogue? Couldn't he have waited just thirty minutes or an hour? I guess in a way, he was trying to warn us for the inevitable so that we could leave before it only got worse.

I think at this point, all of us knew that the film was going to be bad news, but I guess we were hoping for that slim chance, that maybe the worst part was out of the way. I think we lasted about another 20 minutes into the film. The last straw was when Chris Klein's sister in the film, starting making out with some other chick. My dad had enough by this point, so he got up and yelled "That's it!" and left. Could I blame him? Not really. There was really no way to bounce back from that initial line of dialogue. Any small mention or reference to sex was going to be the icing on the cake. (Mmmmm cake....)

After we left the movie, we went to have dinner, but none of us were the same. It was as if, we had all just gone to war. We could not get that line of dialogue out of our heads. I think my dad was contemplating, finding out where the screenwriter lived and punching him in the face, while I was thinking how I could invent a time machine to prevent this experience from ever happening. I never did see the rest of "Election". From what I hear it’s a quirky, dark comedy. Most people even that seemed to enjoy it even. I guess ten years later, it’s something that we can all look back on and laugh at now. Fortunately now, thanks to IMDB and other similar resources, we can now prevent any other types "Election" moments from happening again. So yesterday for Mother's Day, my whole family and I went to see "Chitty Chitty Gang Bang" and really enjoyed it. It's a must see!

Other McNuggets...

-I recently bumped into one of my Fraternity pledge brothers, who I haven't seen in years... And I never know if I should shake his hand normally or give the Fraternity handshake. So because of my indecisiveness, I end up giving him an awkward "Edward Retardo-Handshake." Can somebody please tell me the cut-off age for Fraternity hand-shakes? I say Fraternity handshakes expire four years after graduation. The only scenario where you can use the handshake after that is at a Fraternity Alumni Function, but who the hell goes to those? Come on people, it's time to move on...

-I don't know how this happens, but whenever I open up my yogurt at work, it always splatters onto my pants. I don't know if it’s from being in the fridge and then it taking out, but somehow the yogurt always manages to explode onto my pants and it looks like I just had a wet dream. On the bright side, if I ever do have a wet dream at work, I can blame it on the yogurt.

-Speaking of wet dreams, I was surfing the net and came across this porn site (Oh shut up, we all do it), where this girl had three boobs. Now, I don't know if it was a birth defect or an implant, but whatever the case was, I found it extremely repulsive and nauseating, and I cannot get the image out of my head. Sorry, I just wanted to share that with all of you.

-I was in LA recently having lunch with my friend, (because as we all know I'm kind of a big deal) and there were these stereotypical LA girls having a loud conversation right behind us. As I take a bite into my buffalo chicken sandwich, their topic of conversation suddenly changed to their menstruation and dryness issues in a specific area. Can you say Yummy?

-I recently saw "Ghosts of Girlfriend's Past" (I was forced to) and I came to the realization that Matthew McConaughey must be the most one-dimensional actor in history. I mean the guy has played the same character more than Stallone has played "Rocky". Every movie he is in, he plays a womanizer, with a Southern accent, who pissed off some girl because of his bachelor ways. So he ends up realizing what he wants is true love and has to win her back. And he always does the same thing when he acts, where he drops his mouth open and sticks out his hand. If I do that I look like I just crapped in my pants. But, somehow he's able to pull it off where he looks hot and studly. Not fair folks.

I'm Out!


Monday, April 27, 2009

Edward Retardo-Hands

When you're like me, and your dream is to become a nude model, you must take excellent care of your body. Given this burning desire of mine, I went for my usual jog along the lakefront path the other day. Typically I run a marathon or two before I get into work, but today was my easy day and I was just going for a short two mile jog.

I know I've reached my halfway point, when I pass by this scrumptious little green snack shack (Mmmm) and then I go up about 5 or 6 steps and turn around. So, I had reached this halfway point, gone up the steps, and then something happened. I don't know what exactly, but I tripped over something - this could have been a large crack in the sidewalk, a banana peel, my own foot, or even a midget ghost... I don't really know. Somehow this trip felt like an eternity. For a few seconds there I thought I was going to catch my balance. I did one of those, "Woah, Woah, Woah, Woaaaaaah" with my arms flailing around and I did almost stop myself from falling. Now, I'm no physics major, but apparently too much weight was going forward and there was no stopping this ship from sinking. I knew at this point I was going to fall and there was just nothing I could do, but accept it. To brace my fall, I stuck out my hands so that my natural, gorgeous face would not hit the pavement The harsh surface of the sidewalk cut open and tore off the skin on the palms of both my hands. In my opinion the worst part was not the blood oozing like a waterfall, but more the fact that this incident occurred during the morning rush hour as in front of 30-40 cars drove down Lake Shore Drive (one of Chicago’s busiest streets). To be honest, I'm surprised I didn't cause a few accidents. Given the Technological Age we live in, I'm sure if you were to go on YouTube and type in "Clumsy Douche Falls" you might find a video of this tumble.

So, after I fell and cut both of my hands open, I knew I had only two choices. I could (A) walk home and take care of my bleeding hands, or I could (B) keep my nude modeling dream alive and finish the arduous run. Any guesses what I did? That's right folks, I kept going. As, I was jogging back I noticed this middle-aged guy on his bike going the opposite direction. It was apparent to me, that this gentleman witnessed my fall. So as he passes me, he lurches his head forward and stares at me with his mouth dropped open. I was ready to say to numb nuts: "What the fuck are you looking at?" But, I'm of course too much of a wuss to do anything like that. Now numb nuts totally handled the situation wrong. When you see somebody fall you have two choices. You can either (A) politely ask, "Are you okay?" or you can (B) do the preferred option and just go by like nothing ever happened. You don't friggin stare at someone like they’ve got two heads and a unicorn shoved up their ass (I'm not sure why I chose a unicorn, but just go with it.). As I was running back home, my bloody palms made me feel insecure. I didn't want other people to think I was some psychotic mass murderer or just some weird dude with blood on his hands, so I pulled my sleeves down over my hands and ran back home.

After cleaning up my hands, I put Band-Aids on my palms to cover the wounds. Of course these had to be on the most awkward spots on my hands where it was virtually impossible to get the band-aids to stick. It could also be because I have the motor skills of a 4-year-old, but damn those Band-Aids were hard to get on. Anyways, so I'm at work, and of course I'm a little self-conscious because I have Band-Aids plastered all over my hands. Now I've been at my job for 3 months, and I've probably shaken one or two hands with other members of the company (and those handshakes occurred on my first day). Now, if I was an odds maker, I would say the chances were extremely slim that I would have to shake any body's hand, but given that this is the Awkward Chronicles, pretty much anything is possible. And sure enough it is. This sales guy decides to peruse by my cube, for God knows what reason. He looks at me and says, "I don't think I've met you before." Now I'm thinking, "That’s right buddy and let's keep it that way." He of course does the unthinkable and sticks out his hand for me to shake. I thought for a second about punching him in the balls and running way, but then it occurred to me that would not be very professional. So, with no other choice, I awkwardly stuck out my bandaged hand and gave him the worst handshakes known to mankind. This “handshake” if you will, consisted of him shaking my pinky. After he felt the bandages on my hand, he gave me a strange look and quickly walked away. Fortunately, nobody else decided to introduce themselves to me for the rest of the day. I'm sure this sales guy sent out a memo warning everyone to stay away from Edward Retardo-Hands.

If you take anything away from this entry, I hope it’s not only for you to realize my determination to become a professional nude model, but for you to follow your dreams as well. Because, even if there are obstacles (such as falling face first along Lake Shore Drive, tearing the flesh off your hands, having numb nuts annoyingly stare at you, and giving one of the most awkward handshakes in your life), you have to accept those hardships and realize that's all part of the journey.

I'm Out!

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Shared Water Bottles, Passover and Jay Cutler

I'm playing in another basketball league. Why you may ask? Because I hate to waste this extraordinary abundance of talent. I mean its like Michael Jordan deciding to become a professional hot dog contest eater rather than playing basketball. Although have you seen MJ lately? I think he could give a Kobayashi a run for his money. Anyways... I'm playing my first game and of course I'm out of breath and sweating bullets. It's been a good 6 to 8 week lay-off since my last game. I had brought a water bottle from home and I was sucking down that thing like no other. Like a baby does to his bottle or his mother's... (Okay I'll stop) After just re-filling this bottle and about half-done, I notice a price sticker on the bottle. I thought to myself, "How's that? I brought the bottle from home." Very slowly like a retarded Sherlock Holmes, I realized that this was not my water bottle. So I did one of those, yuck screams and threw the bottle down in a panic frenzy. I have no idea whose bottle that actually was. I'm not an overly religious man, but I'm beginning to think God is trying to tell me I don't belong on the basketball court.

Other McNuggets...(I just got turned on and had an accident in my pants. Sorry, the next nugget will explain.)

-Currently I'm in the 6th day of a Jewish holiday called Passover. Frankly Passover really F's me over. Get that? It rhymes. (I should be a rapper) Anyways, basically I can't eat anything with yeast for a week. Which consists of bread, pasta, rice, cereal etc... So I'm pretty much just left with salad, eggs, fruits/veggies, and matzah. None of those things are appealing to a fat kid. Especially the President of the Fat Kid Club. So all my friends who complain about Lent, give me a break! I would take Lent over Passover any day of the week. I mean come on, how hard is it really to give up chocolate or pop for 6 weeks? Oh and you can't eat meat on Fridays... That's so tough, I can't imagine having to eat a large deep dish cheese pizza instead. If any non-Jewish people out there, want to trade holidays next year... Please, let me know. Cause I'm ready! And I have 10 boxes of matzah and 3 jars of gefilte fish to prove it.

-I understand facebook has it perks. You get to re-connect with old friends and share pictures with each other, and maybe even date or network. But lately, I feel like some facebook users are kind of being a little selfish here. And its kind of ticking me off. Stop with the 20 status updates a day. You are taking up my whole page! Myself and nobody else gives two shits, if you're tired from work, are going to watch "Lost", or took a quiz on what animal you would like to have sex with. People, if you want to leave a status update I'm fine with that. But do everybody a favor and please limit it to one or two times a day. I know after I finish this blog entry, I'm going to shamefully plug it on my facebook status. But I promise, that's all you're hear from me.

-So I park in this garage that is a block away from where I live. And in order to get in/out of the garage I have to go through an alley. Let me just say, that I'm not the biggest fan of this garage. I have the smallest parking spot known to mankind. I have to squeeze my car between two columns. So I literally have a few inches of room for error. And given my Jeff Gordon driving skills, I've already scratched my car twice. Anyways, this abandoned alley has to be one of the most exciting alleys in the world. I think if I were to open up the Guinness Book of World Records of most popular alleys, there might be a picture of it in there. There is always something going on in this alley. People walking, hanging out, or doing whatever... There is always some type of activity that blocks me from getting into/out of the garage. The other day I was waiting in my car, in the infamous alley for my GF, who was getting a cup of coffee down the street. While I'm waiting in the alley, I saw more traffic in five minutes than happens on Lake Shore Drive. A cab decides to drive through and drop people off, a homeless woman knocks on my window for change, group of kids walk by, a creepy dude decides to follow my GF into the alley (Fortunately I was there waiting for her)... I mean what's next? A midget orgy, fireworks, and an Osama Bin Laden sighting? Good God!

-The other night I had a dream I was sticking my head in a fridge and gorging myself with endless and endless amounts of candy corn. Why was it candy corn? I don't know. Why was the candy corn in a fridge? I don't know that either. Actually come to think of it, I bet you candy corn would taste good if it was refrigerated. Hold on to your seat belts everybody, I'm going to experiment this and get back to you with the results in my next blog. I can feel the excitement!

-Since my last blog, the Bears made a monumental move by trading for the one and only Jay Cutler. I am totally shocked and still am as we speak. I never thought in a million years the Bears would make a gutsy move like that. It's just not in their nature. I know they gave up a lot to get him and the Broncos are going to get some good players with the 1st round picks. But lets face it, it was something that had to be done. It's no guarantee that Cutler will bring a Super Bowl Ring to Chicago, but I at least appreciate the effort made by the organization. But if we are somehow fortunate enough to win a Super Bowl, can we please do it by 2016? Because I'm getting my ass out of here before the Olympics come. That is going to be one big mess. Yeesh!

-Have you seen the trailer for "Obsessed"? Starring the all-star cast of Ali Larter(the chick from Varsity Blues) Beyonce, and Idris Elba(I have no f'in clue). This has the potential to be one of the worst movies of all time. The last trailer I can remember being this bad, was for "Lakeview Terrace". Well I did some awkward investigative research and ironically I found out that the same writer wrote both movies. His name is David Loughery. David, congratulations, on having such a successful writing career with absolutely no talent.

I'm Out!