The Suit Jacket

Recently, I had the pleasure of attending a wedding in Minneapolis with the good old fiancée (FI). The wedding was for a college friend of the FI and I wanted to make a positive impression. To my own surprise, I was able to accomplish it. I had a good buzz going and I was strutting my stuff on the dance floor.

My Perception

My Reality

Despite my lack of dancing skills, I was feeling good that the FI's friends were seeing a fun version of Jonno.It was around midnight and the wedding was coming to an end. The plan was to take a cab with another couple back to the hotel. Earlier in the night I had taken off my suit jacket and left it on the chair at my table. When I had went back to retrieve it, the jacket was gone.

I scanned the table to see if there were any other suit jackets and I noticed one on the opposite side of the room. I picked it up and realized it was somebody else's Hugo Boss jacket with a pink interior. I looked around at the other tables and there were no jackets to be seen. My suit jacket was indeed gone and I began to panic.

The suit I was wearing was fairly new and one that I had gotten tailored for my heavenly shaped physique. I do own one other suit, but it is a bit older and the jacket fits me like the little kid at the end of the movie “Big.” More importantly, I really did not want to spend the money and time to buy a brand new suit.

I was given an index card to fill out with my information in case somebody returned the jacket. Because I was a neurotic drunken mess, I was concerned that I had written the wrong phone number down. I made a big scene in front of everybody for the FI to track down the guy with the card to ensure the info was correct. Now all of the FI's friends were seeing a different and less likable side of Jonno. 

While all of this is going on, the FI’s friend and her husband were waiting for me with the cab.
In a perfect world, it would have been nice if I played it cool when I got in the cab and been like…

“It’s no big deal. It happens all the time. I’m sure I’ll get the jacket back.”

Unfortunately that did not happen and I decided to go this route...

I want my suit jacket back!!!!

For the 20-minute cab ride I had the brilliant idea to not say one single word. They did their best to include me in the conversation and I just sat there stone-faced. To say the very least it was extremely awkward and I did absolutely nothing to help the situation.

When we got back to the hotel room, I acted like a complete ass to the FI. Despite my immature antics, she was gracious enough to text her friend (the bride) about my jacket. The FI had a hunch that this one drunk doofus at our table might have taken the jacket.

Amazingly enough the next morning we got a text from the bride that the drunken doofus did indeed take my jacket by mistake. Apparently, somebody had taken his jacket so he then decided to continue the idiotic trend and take my jacket. I was then given the phone number of the sister to the drunken doofus since he crashed there that night.

I called and texted the number and heard nothing. The problem was that I had to leave for the airport in an hour. I figured the best case scenario was that the drunken doofus would ship me the jacket in a few weeks. Miraculously enough, I got a text back and the sister told me her drunken doofus brother would drop off my jacket in 30 minutes.

I met the drunken doofus in the lobby and he gave me the jacket. It was an awkward exchange because I wasn’t really sure what I should say or if I should shake his hand. Instead he gave a quick “sorry” and left. I looked at my jacket and there was of course some weird spot on there. I didn’t care if the drunken doofus made nice, sweet love to the jacket because I was just happy to finally have it back.



One thing this incident taught me is to never take off my suit jacket at a wedding. I also learned whoever said to "always be yourself" was totally wrong.  

H.A.K.A.S.

The Awkward Proposal

It was a beautiful, sunny Saturday in Malibu and I was a few hours away from proposing to the GF. The plan was to propose some time after dinner on the beach. For some reason the ring box that I had was abnormally big; it looked like I had a sideways erection in my pocket. Fortunately, the GF was holding onto my wallet which helped the situation a bit. Although, I’m still curious how most lads hold onto the box without it getting noticed.Perhaps, I'll do a scientific study one of these days.

I had made reservations at an upscale restaurant, Geoffreys in Malibu, which was next to the ocean. They gave us a nice romantic table off to the side and everything seemed to be going smoothly. The GF even said she saw a dolphin swimming in the ocean; this unfortunately isn’t a normal occurrence at our usual date spot “Sizzler.”

About 45 minutes into our dinner, celebrity power couple Fergie and Josh Duhamel walk in and are seated at the table right behind us. When I saw them I kind of wanted to scream like a little school girl, but I was able to contain myself and politely elbowed the GF instead. Josh Duhamel was so close to me we were practically rubbing our buttocks against each other. 

I gotta feeling... Tonight is going to be an awkward night.

Then a light bulb went off and I thought to myself... “Why don’t I just propose during dinner?”  We were seated by a large family celebrating a college graduation and also a young prom couple, so there was a positive vibe and good energy surrounding us. Plus, Fergie and Josh Duhamel seemed open for a little banter as they chatted with the prom couple. I thought about what a great story it would be if we celebrated our engagement with two A-List celebrities. Plus, my hopes of a beach-side proposal were squelched after our waitress deemed the stairs down to the ocean “off-limits” for diners. 

We had already finished our main course, so I made a quick trip to the bathroom to get myself psyched up. I sat back down and waited for it to get a little quiet. I wasn’t exactly sure how to initiate the proposal as I’m far from being smooth, or a romantic individual. So I turned to the GF and said “I have a question for you…”

As I suavely pulled out the ring box the GF whispered in a panicky urgency “Jon, please don’t propose to me right now. Please! I don’t want to get embarrassed. I’d rather it just be the two of us!”

The gig was up. Apparently the GF had seen the bulge in my pocket when I walked back from the bathroom; I had tried to explain the bulge was from looking at Josh Duhamel, but she didn’t buy it.

I was in complete and utter shock. All I could think was “Are you kidding me?”  I felt like I had just been caught with my pants down right as I was about to urinate and somebody had yelled “STOP!” I didn’t understand how I could start a proposal, pause it and then continue it somewhere else. I thought about going against her wishes and just forcing the proposal on her, but it didn’t feel right. Plus, I wanted to make a good impression on Fergie because I've always felt my true calling was to be a back-up dancer to the Black Eyed Peas.

So our new plan was to drive on the Pacific Coast Highway and find a good place to stop on the beach. I wasn’t happy with this plan, but there weren't any better options. It was around 9pm when we started driving down the PCH and we struggled to find a good place to stop. It was night time and most of the public beach parking lots were closed. Sometimes I would suggest a spot and the GF wouldn’t like it. Then other times she would suggest a spot and I wasn’t big on it or I would stupidly drive past it.

Finally, I had enough and was desperate to get the proposal over with. I knew if this kept on we would eventually do a “Thelma and Louise” and drive off the Santa Monica Pier. I made a decision to pull over to the side of the road and bust out the ring box. Of course I opened the ring box upside down and causing the ring to fall out of its spot. I said some nice things about the GF and finished the now epic proposal. 

It wasn’t the most romantic spot nor was anything executed efficiently, but nonetheless it was a proposal in true Jonno fashion. Honestly in the end, I don't think any of this matters; what does matter is that little Jonno has a good woman on his side, who for some odd reason is willing to put with all of his annoying and irritating idiosyncrasies. God bless her.

My only concern now is that come wedding day she’ll stop me right before I say "I do" and will beg me in front of 200 people to please find a more private spot to do our vows. If it happens again, I’ll go to Plan B and run off with Josh Duhamel.

H.A.K.A.S.     

The Missing Enchilada

Recently, the red button on my Blackberry Torch decided to die on me. For those of you who still use rotary phones, the red button’s main function is to disconnect or hang-up calls. I must say this has become an annoyance because in order for me to hang up, I have to take the battery out of the phone. This issue got me in a bit of trouble the other night when I got some carry out at Wahoo’s Fish Tacos.

I waddled into Wahoos and ordered two tacos and an enchilada with some rice and beans. Now the enchilada was essential to the meal because it provided some much needed zest and flavor. In other words, the fat kid in me just wanted to eat an enchilada. As they gave me my food, I asked them if everything was in the bag and they gave me the seal of approval.

When I got home, I ripped open the carry-out container and all I saw were rice and beans. I then searched the bag and all I could find were two individually wrapped tacos. My worst nightmare had come true, they'd forgotten my enchilada!

It took me over 20 minutes to drive home so there was no way I was going to drive back there. I was pretty much screwed and I came to the realization that the enchilada and I were never going to have our special moment together.

With no other options, I picked up the phone and called Wahoos to give them a little piece of my mind. I told them I could not believe they could forget my enchilada after I asked them to make sure everything was in the bag. I felt like Liam Neeson in “Taken” when he screams at the kidnappers on the phone after his daughter gets abducted.

Bring me back my enchilada!!!

And by the way, when you call a food establishment to tell them they forgot a $3 item in your order, there’s a little voice in your head that says to you… “Hey chubbs, is this really worth it?  I really don’t think missing out on an enchilada is going to kill you.”

The fat kid in me decided to ignore the little voice and yell at the Wahoos employee a little more. As I’m having some words with him, I look out of the corner of my eye and see a little red sauce poking underneath the rice. I then quickly move the rice out of the way and I find my missing enchilada. For some odd reason it was buried underneath my rice and beans like hidden treasure.

Unfortunately, I’m still on the line with the Wahoos employee, but I’m too much of a coward to admit I found the enchilada. I try to hang up my phone and of course it will not hang up because the friggin red button doesn’t work! The guy on the line is still trying talk to me so I just buried the phone underneath my couch as I made sweet passionate love to the enchilada.

Speaking of scrumptious food... Do you smell that? Because I think can smell some McNuggets!
   

-I want to thank everybody for your support about my audition as Horse #2 for the HBO show “Luck.” To give you an update, the audition did not go very well because I actually died during it.

-I’m kind of upset the “The Hunger Games” stole the title of my soon to be released autobiography about growing up as a fat kid.

-It’s good to see they let the whole cast of “American Reunion” out of rehab to make the movie.


-Is it just me or was “21 Jump Street” not a funny movie? Apparently, I seem to be the only person who thinks this.

-Speaking of Jonah Hill, I watched him host Saturday Night Live recently and on behalf of all the chunksters out there… It’s great to have you back!


-Does it take anyone else longer to think of a suitable subject for the e-mail then to write the actual e-mail?

-I think I’m going to start “liking” depressing status updates on Facebook to confuse people.

-I’ve come to the realization that I’ll never feel satisfied in life until I try the new Dorito taco at Taco Bell.

-The other day when I got out of the shower, for some odd reason I decided to put on my socks first before my underwear. All I can say is that it felt horribly weird and I hope to never do that ever again.

-When people refer to where they live, they need to stop using the word “house” so loosely. If you live an apartment/condo then unfortunately you can’t say house. I just need to make sure my jealously is accurately directed at people who actually own homes. 

-I was at Coffee Bean and this 16-18 year old girl accidentally knocked over this glass bottle of milk as she was on her way out. The glass and the milk splattered everywhere and the staff didn’t make a big deal out of it and cleaned it up. About 3 minutes later, I hear something else hit the ground. I turn around and the same girl spilled as she was pouring something into it. I realize I'm not a judge, but I think it would be legal at this point for the Coffee Bean staff to beat the living snot out of this clumsy girl.


-What’s the deal with restaurants’ fascination of sitting you right next to strangers when there is a plethora of tables available? If this trend doesn’t stop, I’m going to bring the clumsy 16-18 year old girl Coffee Bean girl with me to knock over some plates and glasses.  

H.A.K.A.S 

When Jonno Met His Man Crush

Later this week I’m embarking on a trip to Disney World with the GF and her family. It’s been a while since I’ve been to Mickey’s crib and I couldn’t help but think back to my first visit where I met my non-sexual man crush.

I was in 2nd grade and waiting in line with my dad for Space Mountain. Behind us in line was this rocker dude with long hair, probably around 16-18 years old. He was with two girls and this other taller weird looking rocker gentleman.

While in line, the rocker dude with the long hair kept staring at me. Nowadays, I’m perfectly used to people staring at me and I totally understand why somebody would. Heck, I would also stare at “me” if I saw myself waddling down the street. But as a little kid, I found his excessive staring a bit troubling and it freaked little Jonno out. I also found it strange he wasn’t paying any attention to the ladies he was with and instead was fixated on me.   

He began talking to my dad and was asking questions about roller coasters. Apparently, this was his first roller coaster and he was surprised how calm I was given my young age. Little does he know at 30 years old, I still cover my eyes during scary movie trailers.


The rocker dude was overly nervous and heard rumors that roller coasters make you feel like your stomach drops. Surprisingly, my dad was able to somewhat calm him down and pretty much told him in so many words to pipe down and grow a pair. 

Now, I’ll be the first one to tell you that I don’t have many talents. One of the talents God did bless me with besides an ample bosom was a ridiculous memory. I can remember the most obscure details and I’m pretty good with faces. Although it gets kind of annoying that I can always remember meeting someone, but they don't remember meeting me. If you're hot chick I get it, but if you're ugly there's no excuse.  

So let’s cut to five or six years later and I'm starting to get into music. One of the bands I was into was Nirvana. When I began to see them on MTV, I thought to myself… “God that drummer looks familiar.”

I then put two and two together and realized the rocker dude with long hair staring at me was Dave Grohl! Plus, the taller rocker dude he was with kind of looked like the guitarist, Krist Novoselic.

No wonder he was staring at me and not the girls.

Mr. Grohl must have put some kind of spell on me during our encounter because I’m pretty obsessed with him. I’m not a big fan on going to concerts or music in general, but I’ve probably seen the Foo Fighters live at least five times. Not only is he an amazing performer, but the dude is hilarious! Plus, how cool is that he was this quiet drummer of this legendary band and then starts his own group and has these extraordinary talents that nobody knew of?   

Now I’m still not 100 percent sure that it was indeed Dave Grohl, but a 2007 interview he did with Time Out magazine helped make my theory a little more accurate. In the interview, they asked Mr. Grohl what's it like to be a father(his daughter had just been born) and what he enjoys doing with her. Mr. Grohl replied that one thing he won’t be doing with his daughter is taking her to Magic Mountain (an amusement park in California) because he’s afraid of roller coasters.

The only thing I forgot to mention is the restraining order he has against me. It's only 500 feet so it's not a big deal with binoculars.
  
How about some McNuggets? (What's the deal with the Chicken McBites? How dare they take attention away from my little babies!)


-Speaking of McNuggets... In recent news a woman was charged with offering sexual favors for McNuggets. Now if that's a crime, then I should be incarcerated for life.


-One of the many reasons I won't be getting laid tonight... I cut myself during shaving and left a piece of toilet paper hanging on my neck for the whole day at work.


-I'm very saddened by the death of Whitney Houston, but on the bright side it's finally socially acceptable for me to watch "The Bodyguard" alone and cry myself to sleep.


-I'm confused... When did the bad guy from "The Hangover" start playing for the Knicks and become good at basketball?

Linsanity!

-So get this... I went to see "The Artist" and the friggin sound didn't work! I could hear the music, but I couldn't hear the people speak. And the crazy ticket clerk wouldn't give me a refund. I'm seriously going to boycott any AMC theater for now on. Who's with me?


-Why is it that whenever acquaintances find out that I jog or go to the gym... I always get this pity response of "Good for you!" They almost make me feel that I've somehow been able to defy the odds despite my obesity.


-I went to a friend's one-woman show and it occurred to me that if I ever did a one-man show it would consist of me sitting on the toilet, while I checked my Facebook news feed.


-Staying on the Facebook topic... I'm afraid the Facebook birthday wall epidemic is getting worse and worse. I've mentioned before how to put a stop to this and I'll mention it again... Before you write happy birthday on a friend's wall... Ask yourself, is this friend somebody I would normally call, e-mail or text happy birthday too if it wasn't for Facebook? (FYI, this does not apply to my own birthday on July 6th. Please feel free to give me the attention my ego desperately needs.)


-Another reason I won't be getting laid tonight.. I spent a few hours on this blog entry.


H.A.K.A.S


 

Locked Out

All righty folks, it’s time to take another trip to the awkward vaults… It was my junior year of college and my family decided to take a cruise for the winter break holiday.

Every morning my dad, mom and sister would wake up at seven in the morning to reserve a chair by the pool. When you’re in college and extremely hip like me, the last thing you want to do is wake up early. So I would usually waddle down to the pool at around 10 or 10:30am.

One day I woke up around my usual time and decided to take a shower. I’m not exactly sure why I took a shower if I was going to the pool, but let’s not focus on my strange idiosyncrasies. That’s for my psychiatrist to figure out and I’m still waiting for him to get back to me.

After I completed my shower I tried to open the bathroom door, but for some strange reason it wouldn’t open. I apparently locked the bathroom door before my shower because the rate of young, gawky, Jewish men getting attacked in cruise ship bathrooms was a serious issue in the early 2000’s. Fortunately, George W., was able to put a stop to it during his presidency and none of you youngsters have to worry about it.

So after I unlocked the door and it wouldn’t open, I tried to yank it open a bit more forcefully. Still nothing… I then got the bright idea to try to ram the door open with my shoulder. After a few attempts and remembering that I’m a wuss, it was time to think of a different strategy.  

If you have never been in a cruise ship bathroom, they are extremely small and probably just a little bit bigger than an airplane bathroom. In addition, the bathroom was heavily insulated so I could barely hear anything that was happening in the main room. So every 15 minutes or so, I would have to yell out to see if anybody was in the room. The one person who could be there was my sister, since we were sharing the room. 

During this time, my family was chill-laxing by the pool drinking some pina coladas. As 11am rolled around, my mom began to get suspicious.

“Should we check on Jon to see if he’s okay,” my mom said.

My dad never understood why I had to sleep in and thought I was wasting his money by doing so. So he responded angrily, “If he wants to sleep, let him sleep.”

Meanwhile, I’m now staring at myself in the bathroom mirror. It had been well over an hour and I began to lose it a little bit, like Tom Hanks in "Cast Away." I argued with myself and blamed Jonno in the mirror for getting me in this situation. I never have apologized to Jonno in the mirror, so now would probably be a good time to say I’m sorry for taking it out on you. It was horribly insensitive of me.

 

At least Tom Hanks had Wilson to make out with.

Another hour goes by of me just sitting on the toilet in my towel. I believe at this point I had been stuck in the bathroom for two and a half hours. I then hear a noise, so I yell out for help. 

“Kim, are you there?” I say desperately.

“Yeah, where are you?” she says.

“I’m stuck in the bathroom,” I reply. “The door won’t open.”   

Being the heroic and helpful person my sister is, she then proceeded to fall on the bed and laugh hysterically. I then realized she was the absolute worst person to save me in this situation.

After about five minutes of non-stop laughing, she tries to open the bathroom door and of course can’t get it open. She tracks down some housekeeping guy and he can’t get it open. I then begin to wonder if I’ll ever get out the bathroom and if I will ever see the light of day again. Fortunately, the housekeeping guy found a maintenance person and he was able to set me free.

As I walked out of the bathroom in my towel, I was expecting to see a great amount of support and sympathy for what I had just endured. I was hoping for a reaction similar to how a soldier gets freed by a terrorist or when baby Jessica was rescued from the well in the late 80's. I was also expecting to be swarmed by the media, with cameras flashing and reporters asking me questions. 

Instead... The housekeeping guy, maintenance person and my sister were chuckling at me. I was not shocked to see my sister laugh, but I was surprised to see the cruise ship staff enjoying my misery.

Apparently, no matter what language you speak, seeing a pasty, hairy male in a towel is universally funny for all cultures. Who knows? Maybe the sight of me in a towel is so powerful it can bring world peace.

H.A.K.A.S 

Jonno's Peep Show

The other day I was getting a physical from a doctor that I was seeing for the first time. He was nice man, in his 60s and from the East coast. I prefer older doctors since I share many characteristics of an elderly man. 

So it comes to the wonderful part where I had to drop my pants. (Settle down ladies this is for medical reasons) Out of all the different places in the room, I found it strange he wanted me to face an open window that overlooks a busy street with several office and apartment buildings. And if you are gonna have me stand by the window, at least have my back towards it. Not the full frontal side. 

(I think this angle would be much more appropriate.)

 The doctor told me not to be concerned because nobody can see me. I had trouble believing him because I could easily see people walking around outside. So unless the window was a one-way mirror that's used for interrogations rooms, everybody could see me as well.

Who knows? Maybe this doctor enjoys pranking his new patients or maybe he gets off on it in some creepy way. All I know is that I felt used and abused. 

And to clarify to all the people on Robertson Blvd. in Beverly Hills, I was not receiving filacio from an older Jewish man in his 60s. And let me also clarify, it was extremely cold in the room.

It's time for everybody's favorite part... (Or maybe just mine) The McNuggets! 

-To all the people that already declaring on Facebook that 2012 is a great year so far… I hope in the near future somebody gives you a wedgie, while a bird poops on you simultaneously.

-Also, if you're over the age of 30 and still get overly excited about using a party blower... I also hope the wedgie and the bird poop happens to you as well. 

-By the way, I’ve noticed that I keep on telling people “Happy New Year?” When is the official cut-off date for that? Because it’s getting a little awkward.  

-Whenever I buy a reversible belt, I always think I'm getting the deal of the century because I'm getting two belts for the price of one. Unfortunately, they always seems to break after a few months. I don't know about you, but I'm beginning to think reversible belts are somehow related to Bernie Madoff’s ponzi scheme. 

-Why can't Peppermint be a year-round ice cream flavor? I have the same feelings that stuffing should be a year-round side dish. 

-I haven’t done a scientific study on this, but I have a feeling there is a direct correlation between men that make a nest on public toilets and also men that don’t get laid frequently.


-I was walking by the Santa Monica promenade and witnessed a very peculiar site... There was this Asian street performer who was moonwalking to Michael Jackson music, while this obese man, who appeared  Egyptian, was holding a leash of a jumping monkey in a dress. I have never done LSD before, but I have to imagine that is what it feels like.  


-Should I be concerned that I find the re-runs of "Yes Dear" on TBS enjoyable and endearing? 

 

-After seeing the promos for the new ABC show “Work It!” It appears Corky has quit acting and found a new job as an ABC TV executive. 

(I can't wait to see the episode where they get caught using a urinal. Can you say LOL?!)

-As I handed my ticket to the usher to see “Young Adult”… She says to me, “Just so you know, this movie is really depressing.” Thanks for the advice Ms. Usher... Let me just hop back in my time machine and pretend the ticket purchase never happened.

-After seeing the latest Mission Impossible movie, I need to seriously consider kidnapping Tom Cruise's personal trainer. 

-Congratulations to Justin Timberlake and Jessica Biel for getting engaged. I can now cross two people off my dream list of people to have sex with.

-I gotta admit Katy Perry’s sure got the raw end of her divorce to Russell Brand. Not only does she have to pay him 20 million, but she also got every STD known to mankind.

-And finally... I was driving to work on a fairly busy residential street and a car decided to go through a stop sign and come literally inches from smashing into my car. Fortunately, I was to somehow able to do a Chuck Norris ninja move and swerve out of the way.

I then pull over to the side of the road, so I can have a few words with the driver. As he drives by, he sees me and rolls down the window...

“Are you okay?” he says.

I thought to myself... Well at least the idiot schmuck had the decency to say that…

I was still a bit startled, so I reply in a high pitch/non-masculine voice… “What is wrong with you? You almost killed me?” 

He then was able to restore my faith in humanity by saying the magic words “Fuck you!” to me and then drove off.

Ladies and Gentleman… Meet the new security guard at my work! Can you say awkward?

H.A.K.A.S

Baby Got Back

So I’m writing/producing this web series (I'll wait for your applause) and one of the episodes requires the main character to stumble upon a pornographic magazine. I usually hate doing any type of research, but this was a task I was more than happy to accept. I first went to the “Hustler” Store” on Sunset, but everything they had was a little too tame. I needed a magazine that was a little more out there.

I then went to Long Beach to meet with a friend and asked him if there were any adult stores in the area. He directed me to a place called Phat Toys. I don’t know who named that store, but that person is a true genius. I waddle into Phat Toys and locate their magazine area. They didn’t have the biggest selection, but they did have a magazine called “Big Black Butts.” All I could think was jackpot! The magazine consisted of plus-sized African-American woman and their curvaceous figures.

I'm legally changing my name to Jonno-Mix-A-Lot

 I must say that whenever you purchase something in an adult video store, it’s always a little awkward with the sales clerk. You just feel like such a dirty, scummy human being. I felt a little better since I wasn’t using this magazine for my own enjoyment and it was for a project I was working on. Plus, I figured people have bought much worse than a “Big Black Butt” magazine at Phat Toys.  

As I approach the cash register, there wasn't anybody behind the counter. I hear a woman’s voice say “I’ll be right there.” A few moments later a heavy-set African-American woman walks out in a skimpy outfit. I immediately freeze as she notices my “Big Black Butt” magazine. She then looks at me and gives me a little wink and a smile. It was love at first sight because the Phat Toys sales clerk and I are now engaged. Please be on the look-out for a Save-The-Date card in the mail. (It mainly consist of a picture of both of our asses)

I don’t know about you, but I could sure go for some McNuggets!

-The other day I was walking around Beverly Hills and saw a middle-aged homeless woman rummaging through the garbage with a beard. And this wasn’t just a goatee it was more of a ZZ Top beard.  I was so repulsed from the image, I've had troubled eating since. So if you’re looking for a new diet after the holidays, I highly recommend the seeing a homeless- woman-with-a-beard-rummaging-through-garbage-diet.

-I don’t mean to come off as a comedy snob, but there aren’t too many TV shows that make me laugh aloud. That was until I came across the “New Girl.” Even though, Zooey Deschanel is great in it, the real person taking over the show is the Schmidt character. That character is a pure comedic gold mine. And just so you know Zooey and I have moved on ever since she gave me a dirty look at the movie theater. (See blog entry "500 Days of an Awkward Summer")

-Anybody that knows me is aware that I have an unhealthy obsession with the Muppets. I got a chance to see their new movie and it was everything I could have asked for and more. I was actually smiling for the duration of the whole movie. I think the last time I smiled that much was when I was a little kid. I take that back, it occurred last night when I was flipping through the pages of the “Big Black Butt” magazine.

Seriously... How does this not make you smile?

-Thank you ESPN for talking about Tim Tebow every single, friggin morning and making me feel like I’m reliving the movie “Groundhog Day.”

-Speaking of sports… When I applied to Penn St. back in high school and didn’t get in, I always thought it was because I wasn’t smart enough. I now realize it was because I wasn’t sexy enough. (ba-da bing!)

-The other day… I was at my GF’s place and her cleaning lady was finishing up. I wanted to come off as a pleasant and affable individual, so I began speaking to her in the little Spanish that I do know. After a few moments, she tells me in a perfect American accent that she doesn't speak Spanish and speaks French. How do you say awkward in French?   

H.A.K.A.S

The Return of the McNuggets!

After many months of depriving myself, I finally indulged and ordered a 6 piece Chicken McNugget. As I bit into the succulent and scrumptious McNugget, I had an epiphany… I gotta bring back the McNuggets!

 

• The other day I was staying at a hotel and using their work-out facility. I then get in the elevator the same time as this gentleman in his 40s. He begins to stare at me.

          “There’s a work-out room here?” he asks.

          I then reply back, “Yeah its downstairs. It’s actually pretty nice.”

          I assumed the conversation was pretty much over that point, but apparently the gentleman had one more extremely important question to ask.

        “Is it better than sex?” he asks.

        I then nervously laughed off his question and scrambled out of the elevator as quickly as possible. 

        (If you’re curious though, I think the gym is better because it won’t laugh at you when you’re finished.)

These are also 20 better options than sex.

• During a recent trip to the Apple Store... I came to the realization that when I attempt to ask a question to an Apple sales representative, it is equivalent to me asking where the bathroom is in a foreign country. In both instances, I have trouble articulating what I mean and then piss my pants.

• Speaking of going to the bathroom, I had a dream where I met Courtney Cox for lunch and then took the biggest dump of fresh spinach that a human has ever seen. Not sure what that dream exactly meant, but I have a feeling I won’t be eating spinach while I watch re-runs of ”Friends" anytime soon.

• Continuing on the food trend, after seeing the new contestants for Top Chef, I have a feeling all the food will be eaten before the judges even get a chance to taste it. 

• Staying on the TV theme, if you’re looking for a television show to watch, HBO’s “How to Make it in America” is one hell of a show. I don’t know what it is about Bryan Greenberg, but he is one of the coolest Jewish guys I’ve ever seen (Next to ex-NBA player Danny Schayes of course.)  

  

  I'm not sure what's better... His shades or his homemade kugel

• Another recommendation I have is the movie “50/50” It seriously blew me away.The writing was great, it was funny and the emotion really grabs your attention. It was also good to see that Seth Rogen finally understands he should be the funny sidekick rather than the lead guy. (P.S. I'm still receiving therapy after wasting two hours of my life watching “The Green Hornet”) 

•  I must say it’s getting awfully tiring to change the channel as quickly as possible whenever the “Paranormal Activity 3” commercial comes on TV. On the bright side, I can finally get rid of my collection of Richard Simmons work-out VHS tapes.  
  

• After listening to numerous Adele songs on Pandora, I have a feeling once Adele is happily married and not getting screwed over by dudes, her music career will be over. Just a thought, but maybe Adele needs to stop giving it up so early and make guys earn it a little bit. Am I right ladies? 

• The other day, I mistakenly applied butt cream to my face thinking it was my acne facial cream. Let's just say my face did not have the best reaction to the butt cream. And by the way, I 'm totally aware that I've disclosed to the whole world that I use butt cream.      

          H.A.K.A.S

The Awkward Mile High Club

I’m not sure what it is, but I seem to attract interesting and peculiar people whenever I travel. Whether it was the annoying Liza Minnelli/ David Guest look-a-like (see the “Flying with Liza” entry) or the bald albino sleep-walking zombie (see “The Red Eye” entry), there is a track record of people bothering me on planes. My latest flight from Tampa to LA did not disappoint and the unfortunate trend was able to continue.

For starters, the flight was horribly long at approximately a little under 5 hours. To make matters worse, I usually have trouble sleeping on planes and stupidly left my iPod and headphones in my checked baggage. So all I had available was my laptop and an Esquire magazine with Justin Timberlake on the cover 

What? Don't judge me! Not only is he musically talented and a decent actor, but he's funny too!

Because I didn’t have any distractions, my plan was to get some work done. Fortunately, I got lucky because the flight was not even close to being full and the middle seat was open between me (aisle seat) and the woman who sat by the window. The woman by the window was a blond, in her early 30s, attractive, but not usually my type. Because I don’t particularly enjoy talking on planes and I’m taken, I wasn’t planning to strike up a conversation.

Before the flight took off the woman used the bathroom. We sat in the 25th row and the bathroom was behind us. On the way back to her seat, I noticed that she walked right past our row and looked lost. For whatever reason, she forgot what row she was in and eventually was able to figure it out. I thought it was a little strange, but it can happen to the best of us. The plane departs and she seems obsessed with staring out the window. She then used the bathroom for a second time and got lost again on her way back . The woman somehow ended up near first class and looked around aimlessly. At this point, I turned to the guy across from me and said, “She’s gotta be on something.”

The woman finally made it back to her seat and I said some innocent joke about her consistent problem of getting lost. The joke then turns into conversation and we started chatting a little bit. She seemed like a friendly enough individual and more importantly appeared to be an open book. Almost to the point where I can ask her anything and she would not be offended. I feed off people like that because I’m the complete opposite and I can use them as future characters in my work. As I talked to her, she kept slapping me on my arm whenever I made a sarcastic comment. By the 20th slap, it was pretty damn annoying!

Here are some tidbits I learned about this woman, who we’ll call “Blondie.”

-She’s 34 years old

-Aspiring actress

-Has lived in LA for 5 years.

-Originally from NY, but family lives in Florida.

-Her parents are divorced, but she’s very close with both of them

-She recently got out of a two-year on and off again relationship with an older gentleman.

-Has never heard of gmail before (this is my favorite one)

I also should add that Blondie has the worst memory I’ve ever experienced, which might explain for her having trouble remembering where her seat was. She asked me my name multiple times and where I lived in LA. Blondie revealed to me that she had one or two glasses a wine before the flight because she is a nervous flier. When the flight attendants came around with the beverage cart, she desperately wanted another glass a wine. I hardly ever drink on flights, but I figured in order to keep up with her I better get some wine in me too. As the conversation continued, she became more and more flirtatious.

I don’t mind a little flirting when it’s fun and innocent, but this got a little out of hand. Because the middle seat was vacant she moved into it and whispered a few playful comments into my ear. She then kissed me on my cheek a few times, but when she tried to kiss me on my mouth, I told her I can’t because I’m involved with somebody. That information really didn’t matter to her and only made her more tempted to mess with me. She wore a revealing a dress and apparently her breast kept falling out of it. (For the record, I did not see it fall out) In addition, she purposely rubbed her chest against my arm and told me that I had nice thighs.  

It was totally worth the investment.

At this point, it was going in a bad direction so I got up and acted like I had use the bathroom. As I got up, she of course grabbed my buttocks. (Ladies… Can you blame her?)  As I get back to my seat, my plan was to act busy. She got the hint and listened to her iPod, but had trouble sitting still. She tried sleeping or reading her magazine, but nothing worked. 

She then started talking to me again and revealed she has naked photos of herself on her phone. I told her I had some too of myself, so we swapped pics. (Kidding folks!) Out of nowhere and for no apparent reason she whipped out her underwear from her purse. My guess for this insane action was to imply that she wasn’t wearing any. At this point I prayed to God none of the other passengers were staring at us. 

Finally, the pilot told us we were close to landing in LA. I forgot to mention to all of you, that when we first started to chatting she asked me how I was getting home. Before I knew she was a tad crazy, I told her the truth and that I drove to the airport. After she asked me for a ride back to her place in Studio City, I quickly tried to change my tune that I was taking the Super Shuttle. Even though, she had the worst memory in history, Blondie somehow remembered that I first said I parked at the airport. For obvious reasons, there was no way I was going to drive her home. Her only other way to get home, was to take the Fly Away bus to Van Nuys. I promised her I would walk with her back to the baggage claim, so she wouldn’t get lost. My plan was to ditch her after I got my suitcase.

Apparently, I had made a wrong turn to the baggage claim and I somehow ended up in Terminal 7, when I needed to be in Terminal 5. At LAX, two terminals is a long ass walk! And did I really need to spend any more time with Blondie after a five hour flight? We finally arrived at the baggage claim and I saw my suitcase. This was my time to ditch her. Literally a second later, she grabbed her luggage too. What are the chances? I felt like I was in a horror movie, where the monster/villain just won’t die!   

I head outside to the ground transportation and I’m somehow able to lose her because of the crowds of people. As I waited for my parking shuttle, I noticed the Fly Away bus to Van Nuys parked right in front of me. I looked around for Blondie and she was nowhere to be seen. I then saw her standing on the wrong platform looking lost again of course. Being the nice chap that I am, I yelled and tried to tell her that her bus was here. I don’t know if she ended up getting on the bus because my parking shuttle came a minute later.

All I know is that on my next flight, I’m bringing a rape whistle.  

H.A.K.A.S.

P.S. Blondie has a photo shoot on You Tube and an interesting acting reel on Vimeo. If you want to see what she looks like, shoot me an e-mail and I’ll give you the link.

 

Two and a Half Awkward Men

The nice thing about LA is that you never know who you might run into. This past Labor Day the GF and I saw an awfully skinny Jonah Hill at a grocery store in Santa Monica; I gotta admit I liked him better pudgy. Earlier that day, I ran into another powerful individual in the entertainment industry at this brunch spot called Blue Plate.

I had never been to this restaurant and when I walked in, it didn’t give off the best vibe. There was a bit of a wait for the table and the staff wasn’t the friendliest; I don’t ask for much from a host or hostess except for a little pleasantry. This particular hostess reacted as if I was asking her to be the mother of my child, when all I’d done was give her my name to add to their waiting list.

Despite my baby face, I can sometimes act like an elderly Jewish man, so I tell my GF that we should go somewhere else where they will respect our business. After walking down the block, there weren’t too many other options we reluctantly did the walk of shame back to the restaurant. When I was reunited with the lovely and cheery hostess, she let me know how upset she was I hadn’t materialized when she called my name. After stumbling over some lame excuse as to my whereabouts she finally sat us down at a table in the back. 

About half-way through our meal, I noticed a gentleman in his 50s walk in with an attractive woman. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, I immediately thought he looked familiar and told the GF this new customer was indeed Chuck Lorre. For all you readers who are too cool to watch television, Mr. Lorre is probably the most powerful man in TV today. He has created hit shows such as “Two and a Half Men”, “Big Bang Theory” and many other successful ones that are in syndication. 

Chuck Lorre (Jonno's future boss)

 

Not many people would recognize Chuck Lorre, but given that my passion in life is comedy TV writing (and the fact that I religiously study the medium) I knew it was him. Our table was towards the back of the restaurant and near the bathroom. A few minutes later, Mr. Lorre walked past our table to use the facilities. As if by an act of God, at that same moment, I too had to use the little boys’ room. (Although my situation was a bit more serious) Because the bathroom was a tiny, one-person facility there was unfortunately no opportunity for me to challenge Mr. Lorre to a sword fight. (Regardless, I probably would have lost) 

The GF encouraged me to approach Mr. Lorre when he exited the bathroom. At first I told her I didn’t think it was the best idea, but then in so many words she told me to grow a pair and just do it. In order to protect my manhood and integrity (which I feel like I have to defend on a daily basis) I obliged. Right as I approached the bathroom, Mr. Lorre walked out. It happened so quickly that I wasn’t properly prepared to say anything. Plus, I didn’t think it was the best location to have a conversation, since the restroom was practically located in the middle of the kitchen.

After we paid the check and were ready to leave, I saw my next chance.  A person in my situation doesn’t get many opportunities like this, so I knew I couldn’t leave without talking to Mr. Lorre. Upon leaving the restaurant I decided to take my chance and walked up to him, nervously to say:

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I just wanted to let you know I’ve always been a big fan of your work and I wish you the best of luck for this upcoming season.” 

I purposely kept it short and sweet. If he gave me a cold response, I could walk out and be content. That did not happen. Mr. Lorre was extremely friendly and seemed flattered by my comment.

“Thank you very much. What’s your name?” replied Mr. Lorre. 

I had nervously mumbled my name way too quickly, he asked me to spell it out for him. (Or get a translator) Since he gave me a warm reception, I decided to pull out a little Jonno banter and say:

“By the way, if you’re looking for another writer for one of your shows feel free to let me know.”

At this point I knew it would be a good time to give him my business card and lucky for me the GF was holding my wallet ready with the card to give him. Mr. Lorre studies the card very closely.

“It says comedy writer. I like that,” said Mr. Lorre. 

I then brought up a mutual friend and he sarcastically told me that knowing him was a strike against me. As George Costanza taught me, it’s always essential to go out while you’re on top. I took that as my key and gave my goodbyes.

Even though I realize the chance of Mr. Lorre actually reading this blog are the same as me becoming a shirtless Abercrombie model, I would like to thank him for being a genuine human being and I look forward to working with him in the future. (Even if “working with him” means becoming his butler)   

H.A.K.A.S

The Price of Being Tall

People may say being tall has its advantages, but I tend to disagree. Here are two examples to help prove my case.

-I was at the grocery store in the refrigerated section and this old lady asks me if I can help her get some yogurt because she could not reach it. Now, this is not the first time this has happened. I’ve been at Walgreens or CVS and have helped other shorter customers reach for things. I’m starting to think these convenience stores should start compensating me for all the hard work I whore out. Any way, I help the older woman with getting the yogurt and grab about three or four of them.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. Thank you!” she says.

One thank you would have been enough, the extra gratitude just made it uncomfortable. I then go back to my cart and resume shopping, assuming my nice deed has been completed. Not so fast. I then hear…

“I’m sorry, but could you get me some more?”

Really? This time I’m not as bubbly and I grab her a few more yogurts.

“I’m sorry, but can you get some more?”  

I get a few more.

“Actually, can you just give me all of them?”

I’m thinking what the hell lady? Are you planning for the Apocalypse to happen or something? The last time I checked yogurt is not like gold or oil. I literally spent a good few minutes grabbing all of the yogurts and ended up putting 30 in her cart. I strongly debated chucking the last one at her head, but decided against it.

For now on, I’m just going to put my knees in my shoes and walk around like a dwarf in public. 

Nobody would ask this guy to grab yogurt.

-Whenever I go to a movie or any other type of event,  I prefer to sit in the aisle seat. As you can tell from the previous entry, I’m a taller, strapping, quasi-young individual who prefers my leg space. I also might be a little claustrophobic and don’t like being crammed in between two people. So I went to go see a comedy show at The Groundlings with a friend and there was an usher there who sat us. The usher takes us to a row where the first five seats are available, including the aisle seat.

Politely, I ask the usher guy if I could please sit in the aisle seat.

“No. They’re not available,” he says.

I felt the response was a bit odd, but I obeyed what he said and sat in the middle of the row. I wait a few minutes, the show is about to start and the aisle seat is still available. My buddy and I decided to move down to the first two seats in the row. Literally, a few seconds later the usher walks in a few more people and I’m thinking this is going to be horribly awkward. The usher gives me this intense stink eye stare, but all I can do is look down in shame. The shame is comparable to how a dog feels after it has let his owner down by peeing on the brand new carpet.

I gotta admit the awkwardness of the interaction was not worth the aisle seat. Fortunately, the show starts and I can finally just sit and relax. About a minute later, I get a tap on the shoulder from the girl sitting behind me.

“Excuse me, but would you mind moving over so my friend can sit in the aisle seat in front of me?”

All I could think was. “Is this for real? Am I on some hidden camera show or something?

After the show, I walk out of the theater and I am stunned to see a familiar face. Who do I see? My good old flying buddy, Liza! (See my previous blog entry “Flying with Liza”)

I then made the fastest sprint to my car that has ever been done in history.       

H.A.K.A.S.    

Sleeping with Jonno

Lately, during my beauty sleep (picture me wearing a sleeping hat and footsies) I've been having some rather odd dreams. I am by no means a dream interpreter, but I gave it my best shot to make some sense of them and and of course to entertain my loyal readers.

The other night, I had this dream that I was traveling with Justin Timberlake. I don't know where we were going or why, but we were sharing a room together. It was by no means a sexual dream, but I was so excited to brag about hanging out with Justin Timberlake all to my family and friends. I do remember Justin not being very friendly to me, but I honestly couldn't care less because of his celebrity status. Awkward Dream Interpretation: Maybe I'm not as straight as I think I am.  

At work, my office is next to this one gentleman who I really don't care for. I don't have any specific reason for this, but I kind of just get that negative vibe from him. Anyway, I had a dream where I went into his office when he was not in there and proceeded to urinate all over his desk. I remember the peeing going on forever and wondering if it was ever going to stop.

Right as I finish urinating, the guy I don't care for and his associate walked into the office. For whatever reason I was shocked to see them and felt that I needed to explain why there was a massive puddle on his desk. So all I could think to say to them was "Sorry, I spilled." I don't know if that excuse made any sense because I still was holding my thingy and had it hanging out. Fortunately, the dream ended as they stared at me with blank expressions. But I'm not gonna lie, once I realized it was a dream I thought for sure I had wet my bed. For the record, that did not happen. Awkward Dream Interpretation: I really don't like that dude and should consider wearing a diaper when I sleep.

Most of you are aware that I have a secret obsession with food because of my inner fat kid. So in this one dream I had, I was shopping at Trader Joe's. I remember going through all the aisles and selecting certain items to toss in my basket. But the issue was that I could not find my turkey meatballs for the life of me. Now, I don't know if you've ever had Trader Joe's turkey meatballs, but they are pretty darn scrumptious, and I remember being extremely frustrated because I could not find the darn things! I even tried to ask some of the staff, but nobody had an answer for me.

Do not leave me again! You hear me? Never leave me again!

In addition to that dream, I also had one where I was ordering Taco Bell and was extremely confused by the menu. Apparently, they had changed the menu around and only had select items. Out all of all my dreams, this was easily the biggest nightmare. Awkward Dream Interpretation: I should win an award for managing to avoid obesity.

This last dream is a bit odd, so bear with me; at the same time, I think it could also make for an interesting movie. Anyway, apparently this one guy had brain cancer or some other type of deadly disease involving his brain. In order to live, he needed to kill me and take my brain. Now, I honestly feel sorry for anybody who wants to torture themself with my brain, because I lived with this thing for 30 years and let me tell ya it causes more harm than good. I don't think the guy ever did get to me, but I remember his entourage was after me. I also vaguely remember John Travolta being in the dream and trying to help me out. Regardless, when I woke up I was so freaked out and I don't think I could fall back asleep. Awkward Dream Interpretation: I should consider seeing a therapist and yeah I really need to get those diapers.

H.A.K.A.S