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.
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.
-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.)
-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.
Friday, December 11, 2009
-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!