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!