Jonno Sits Courtside

Well folks I can officially mark one off the bucket list. (And no I did not visit the Chicken McNugget factory at McDonald Headquarters or have a sword fight in a public bathroom with Dave Grohl)  The other night I got to sit courtside at the Lakers game. I’m sure many of you are wondering how in the hell someone like me would be in those seats. To be honest, I’m still wondering myself.

It was a Monday afternoon and I was just doing my normal thang at work. My wealthy and powerful CEO walks into the office and yells out “Who wants to go to the Lakers vs. Jazz game tomorrow night? I got four tickets.” I was in complete shock. I was aware he had courtside tickets next to the Lakers bench, but I never thought in my wildest dreams he would ever give them to some peon such as myself. Let’s face it, there are more important people in the world to wine and dine than this guy...

My latest modeling headshot. Thoughts?

 

I look around the office and it is complete silence. If nobody else was going to step up to the plate, I sure as heck was going to take advantage of this golden opportunity. So I turn to him and say “I’ll take one. Or two. If that’s okay of course.” I didn’t want to be too greedy and plus I would have been perfectly fine going by myself. Fortunately, he was gracious enough to give me two tickets and then a co-worker stepped in and took the other two. 

Even though this was an exhibition game, Kobe was out with his injury and they were playing the lowly Utah Jazz, I was still more than ecstatic. Growing up a die-hard NBA fan, it was always one of my dreams to sit courtside at a basketball game. When I was 8 years old my dad was able to score 12th row seats to a Bulls game, but then I sharted in my pants and totally ruined the whole experience. (True story) So what was going to happen now? Was I going to shart my pants again? Would I accidentally trip Paul Gasol and ruin the Lakers season? Or would I get hit in the face with a basketball, get my teeth knocked out and burst into tears in front of national television? It all just seemed to good to be true.

The wife and I arrive at the Staples Center and the usher points us to our seats. For some reason we misunderstand her directions and walk to the wrong side of the court. Good start Jonno! You are really making it seem like you belong here. Finally we get to our seats and take everything in. It was quite a beautiful site.  

Who knew white people played in the NBA?

We are both starving and have about 20-25 minutes before the game starts. Somebody had mentioned to me that our tickets would get us into a private VIP lounge underneath the tunnel where they have free food and drinks. I didn’t want to leave our seats, but at the same time the fat Jewish kid in me could not pass up a free meal. I was hoping we could scarf down some grub and then make it back to the seats before the player introductions.

We waddle into the lounge and there are about 30 rich people eating and drinking. I think I even saw Andy Garcia in there, but I didn’t care because my mind was only focused on one thing. (Side note: I think Andy Garcia might be the most famous actor, where no one can name a movie he has actually been in.) I make my way to the buffet and just go absolutely nuts. I pile on my plate mini hamburgers, hot dogs, brawts, egg rolls, pot stickers, onion rings, lettuce wraps and a carrot cake cupcake.  

Me at the Buffet Line

  

I honestly don’t know what happens to me when I’m confronted with free food. It's like I get possessed my some chubby devil. Or maybe its possible in a former life I was starving in Ethiopia and now I'm trying to make up for it. All I know is that I was embarrassing the wife and disgusting Andy Garcia at the same time. As I’m stuffing my face with onion rings, I ironically see one of my fraternity brothers from college. We chatted for a little bit and both chuckled at the fact that we did not belong in the luxurious VIP lounge. 

We head back to the game and have to awkwardly cut through the Lakers' coaches in order to get back to our seats. I look up at the scoreboard and there are only six minutes left in the 1st Quarter! I couldn't believe the noshing and schmoozing caused me to miss that much of the game. Despite the late start, the game was absolutely unbelievable. I loved watching all the little behind the scene things such as... The coaches yelling at the players... Coaches/players yelling at the referees... Players talking smack to one another... Gawking uncomfortably at the Laker Girls...  The game went by so fast and I was praying for it to never end. Unfortunately though, the game was missing one thing... 

A 6-Piece Chicken McNuggets (Lakers Edition) 

1. If you are sitting in courtside seats and do not order from the waiter, he will give you the stink eye for the rest of the game.

2. Pau Gasol appears to be one of the friendliest players in the NBA. And if I may say... Quite a tall drink of water. 

3. There was a box of various types of gum next to me on the scores table. Late in the game, the Lakers Coach, Mike D'Antoni, reaches into the box and picks out a piece of Big Red. I then say to him... "Good Choice. Good Choice." Instead of giving me the finger, he laughed along at my comment. (Shortly after, I was tasered by security.) 

4. My dad was so excited as he was watching the game on TV back in Chicago, my mom actually thought he was going to jump into the TV. 

5. Can we move on from the "Kiss Cam" already? I feel like it's reached its full potential. Similar to how "The Wave" did in 1996. 

6. When you are watching the Lakers Girls, try not appear creepy and always keep your hands above your waist. 

Where's Jonno?

H.A.K.A.S.

An Awkward Night at the Movies

The other night the wife and I saw the film “Prisoners.” For those that don't know, the movie is about a detective (played by Jake Gyllenhaal) who is trying to track down the individual that kidnapped Hugh Jackman’s young daughter. 

The Feel-Good movie of the year

As I was suffocating my face with popcorn and Junior Mints (a combination that surprising works,) I noticed a cell phone light shining a few rows ahead of me. I assumed it was a one-time deal for this individual, so I did my best to ignore it. Then a few minutes later, I see the cell pop up again and then a third time. All I could think was what the hell was wrong this person? Are they some type of ER surgeon? Do they work for the President? Are they receiving sexts from Joseph Gordon Levitt? 

 Only this would be a valid excuse. Am I right ladies?

A little later, two women sitting in the same row as the cell phone bandit get up and move a few rows back. Unless the mysterious cell phone bandit was passing horrible gas, it made no sense to me why the two ladies would make this switch. If you're going to switch seats then at least go in front of the cell phone bandit. Also, what’s the deal with everyone’s love affair with sitting in the middle of the rows and being crammed next to people? Don’t you guys realize it makes no difference to the movie experience? No one in history has ever said, “I saw Citizen Kane once in a theater, but couldn’t really enjoy it because I was stuck sitting in an aisle seat.”

Despite the mysterious cell phone bandit, the film is keeping my interest because of all the suspense and strong acting. We get towards the end of the movie and I’m at the edge-of-my-seat because I don't know what's going to happen (and plus I get scared easily.) It is dead silence and Jake Gyllenhaall is close to solving the kidnapping case. I hear a cell phone ring and I’m thinking… “Oh my God! Who is Jake Gyllenhaal’s character getting a phone call from? Could it be the victim? Is it the kidnapper? Who is it???? 

Instead I see a large Latino man in front of me answer his phone and shout, “Yo dude, I’m in a movie! Dude, I’m in a movie! Yo, I’m in a movie!” 

Finally, he gets off the phone and I look back at the screen and the movie is over. I totally missed the ending. I couldn't believe it. I turn to the wife to ask her about the ending and she didn't know either because she was also distracted. We then frantically ask people sitting near us to help explain what happened.  

Conventional wisdom should suggest that I should have told this large Latino fellow to pipe down and put the phone away. But my rule of thumb has always been to never confront a stranger unless I know I could beat them up in a fight. That's why whenever I have road rage and want to give a honk/middle finger, I first look at the driver to make sure its someone not very intimidating. 

 

My Road Rage Targets

The lights turn back on in the theater and I turn my attention to the cell phone bandit. I really want to see who this a-hole is. Lo and behold I see a young chubby girl probably around the age of 8 or 9. Are you effing kidding me? What parent in their right mind takes their young child to a violent and creepy film about a young girl getting kidnapped? I mean I'm 32 years old and even I felt traumatized by the movie.

As we're exiting down the steps of the theater the wife starts yelling various things out loud directed to both the large Latino Man and also the parent of the chubby little cell phone girl. Even though the wife was in the right, she was kind of out of control. I did my best to settle her down and avoid causing a scene. The last thing I needed was to have her rile them up and then I'm forced to defend her. (Cut to: Me getting put in a headlock by the large Latino fellow, while the chubby little cell phone girl kicks me in the balls.)

I think the lesson here is that our society is becoming more and more obsessed with cell phones. Don't you remember the good old days, when you would go to a movie and not have to worry about being disrupted by a shiny light or a obnoxious phone conversation? I really think we need to focus on...  (A cell phone buzzes)

Sorry guys, but I gotta go. Just got another sext from JGL.

Speaking of tasty and desirable treats... How about a 6-Piece Chicken McNugget?

1. Staying on the film subject.. The real reason Somali pirates hijacked the ship in "Captain Phillips" was to get their money back after seeing "Larry Crowne."

2. I was at Adam Carolla's studio for work (humblebrag) chatting and laughing it up with some of his staff. Right before I leave, I use their bathroom and notice there is a large piece of spinach/lettuce stuck in my front teeth. Lovely.   

3. Some people might work-out to remain thin, but I work-out to remain slightly doughy. 

4.  I'm resigned to the fact that the middle brother from Hanson will look like a hot chick for the  rest of my life.

Hot chick?

5. Speaking of hot blonde chicks... I recently saw Pamela Anderson at a coffee shop. All I can say it was extremely emotional for my left hand to be reunited with his first love.  We both cried.

6. Does anyone know how to get my penis enlargement emails to go directly to my inbox instead of my spam folder? I appreciate the help in advance. 

 . 

H.A.K.A.S.

The Awkward House Crashers

Recently, I received an email from a woman inviting me to an alumni event for an organization. I had met this woman once before and wasn’t sure if she had actually intended to send me this email since I was not a member or alumni of the organization. 

I was planning on ignoring the email, until I saw the event was being hosted at the home of Alex Kurtzman, one of the biggest screenwriters in the industry. Kurtzman and his writing partner are responsible for the Star Trek and Transformers franchises and a plethora of other blockbusters. 

So I thought maybe I should give it a shot? When else am I going to be able to schoomze at an A-List screenwriter's house. Maybe we could hit it off and he'd want to give me a gig on his next film.

I could be Chris Pine's fluffer in Star Trek 3.

I sent the woman an email to RSVP and with my response made sure it was cool for the wife and I to attend the event without being alumni of said organization.

Jonno: Hello, my wife and I were interested in attending. Is this only for current members and alumni?

Woman(her reply): Your wife is welcome to attend with you. Can you pass along her name? I will add her to the list. Look forward to seeing you.

Given that information, the wife and I got dolled up and made the drive out to Santa Monica for the event. The home was of course beautiful and a few steps away from the beach. We are greeted when we walk in, found our name cards and headed over to the backyard where the event was taking place. The backyard featured the coolest tree house I have ever seen, nicely set tables, tasty hors d'eouvres and a bartender serving beverages. Despite the great scenery, the wife and I were still concerned that we would be the only outsiders at the event.  

Right away a woman introduces us and I see from her name tag it’s the screenwriter’s wife. I make a few jokes about the tree house and instead of being repulsed she is laughing along. I’m thinking this is absolutely perfect! When she introduces me to her husband, I’ll be introduced as the “ridiculously good-looking, funny guy.” Okay maybe the ridiculosuly good-looking part might be a stretch. Can we at least agree I'm semi-good looking with decent lighting? 

While we are waiting in line for a drink, I see the woman who had sent me the email. I say hello to her and can immediately sense she has no idea who I am. I try to explain to where we met and it’s still not resonating.  I'm not sure why this always happens to me. I remember meeting people, but they can never remember meeting me. What's going with all of you? What about me is not friggin memorable?!  (Sorry had to vent there for a second.) I'm back.

The wife gets a little nervous from the awkward interaction and says to her, “Thanks again for inviting us to this great event even though were not members.”

The woman’s face turns to complete and utter shock.

“Oh God, I think I made a big mistake. Uhh… Why don’t we go talk somewhere else,” she says.

The woman was embarrassed and didn’t want anyone else in attendance to hear our conversation. So we move to another location to chat. A location of course that was closer to the exit. 

“Yeah, I’m really sorry, but I think I made a mistake. You could stay if you want, but it might be really awkward for you,” she says.

Hello McFly? How come you didn’t mention this in our email convo, when I blatantly said we weren’t current members or alumni? When I politely brought it to her attention, the woman didn’t really have a response. My guess is that she thought I was a different Jon Cohen, when she sent me the original email. Despite giving us the option to say, I got the vibe she really wanted us to leave. So after being there for a little over five minutes the wife and I headed out.

Given this is not the first time someone has gotten me mixed out up with another Jon Cohen, I’m thinking its time I changed my name to something more original. 

Yours Truly,

McNuggets Cohen (And a great segue if I may add)  

1. I was walking back to my car and saw a white string hanging from the bottom of my car. As I reached for the string, my hand became smothered in slimy and mucusy snot. Just wanted to make you aware in case you see me and my hand looks like this...

There goes my hand modeling career

2. Speaking of stupid incidents, the other night I lost my balance walking down the stairs at my home. If someone would have filmed it, I would be just as famous as the crushing/groaning grapes lady.

3. I recently had two dreams back-to-back where a Trader Joe's employee threatened to beat my ass. So I was wondering, does anyone know of any good deals at Whole Foods?   

4. I highly recommend seeing the film "The Way Way Back." It was a fantastic coming of age story that had me smiling the whole way through. It's a shame the film industry is a steaming pile of crap and doesn't make movies like this anymore. (Except of course any of Alex Kurtzman's films) 


5. I'm thinking about learning another language. Not because I have a desire to enrich my own knowledge, but so that I can talk extremely loud in public places.

6. When it comes to photo comments on Facebook, it appears some of us are throwing around "gorgeous" a little too loosely. Let's all be honest and not mislead people. Thank you for your time.   

H.A.K.A.S.

The Wallet

Given it was recently Father’s Day and social media was overflowing with irritating tributes, I figured now would be a good time to share a different type of story. A story where my father was so disgusted with me I thought he was going to trade me in for a young boy from Somalia.

  

It was the summer going into my junior year of college and I went go see “American Pie 2” with a buddy on a Friday night (horrible sequel, but I have to admit “American Reunion” is not getting the respect it deserves.) The next day I went to grab my wallet and it wasn’t there. I was mystified because I left my wallet in the same place every day (a basket by the front door.) I looked all over the house and there was no trace of it. Because I am a horribly honest individual I made the mistake of informing my dad of the situation.

“What? How could you lose it? Why are you so irresponsible? What is wrong with you?” My dad was absolutely furious with me. I felt like James Van Der Beek (minus the good looks and success) in that scene from “Varsity Blues” when he was getting berated by his father.

I don't want your life, but can I borrow 20 bucks?

With not many options available, my dad ordered me to go back to the movie theater to find the wallet. Unfortunately nobody at the theater had seen any wallets, but told me I could search inside. So I got on my hands and knees on the sticky and buttery floor to look underneath the seats. No dice. Then I had the thought that maybe I lost my wallet in the parking lot. I got on my hands and knees again and looked underneath cars and still came up empty.  

I returned home and my dad expressed his disappointment some more and told me to call and cancel my credit cards. I felt absolutely sick to my stomach. Even though it was just a wallet with a little over a $100, two credit cards and my driver’s license, I felt like my life was over.  

As I spoke with the credit card company on the phone, my dad walked towards me. I thought he was going to bitch slap me, but instead he hands me a small, leather, square-shaped item. It was my wallet! I was in complete and utter shock. How did he find it? Was my dad some kind of hero? Did he beat up and tackle the thief that stole it? Not even close.  

“I thought your wallet was mine and took it to work,” my dad explained in a non-apologetic tone and with that he simply walked away.    

Dad, even though you caused me an unbelievable amount of grief that day and I’m now traumatized for life about losing my wallet, you’re still the best father and role model a son could ask for. Plus, we’re pretty much even since I chose a profession that would be any father’s nightmare… a writer.  

Happy Belated Father’s Day!

Speaking of Father’s Day, do you want to know what a good gift would be? A juicy and succulent 6-Piece McNugget.

   

1. I was sitting on my couch the other day and heard two women screaming at each other across the street. Some time passes and then I see one of the women, 50s, calmly walk up the driveway and then out of nowhere she starts keying a VW Bug parked there. She gets back in her car and drives off. A few minutes later, I hear the other woman screaming on her phone. “How could you key Asshole on my car!” God, I love neighbors.

2. Speaking of neighbors…in one of my previous blogs, I mentioned how I had this little hipster dude who lived above me and would stomp around all night and run down the stairs like his feet were on fire. Fortunately I moved recently and don’t have to deal with his crap. That was until I realized he works right by new place and parks on my street everyday. Hmm…If only I knew an insane individual that could key his car…           

3. I have a gut feeling the reality Bravo TV show “Princesses of Long Island,” which follows the lives of rich and spoiled Jewish young girls, is not going to help the issue of anti-semitism around the world.  

The sad part is that each one of these girls rejected me on JDate.

4. Twitter should consider changing its name to "The reason my foot fell asleep while sitting on the toilet."  

5. Not sure why Kanye West named his baby Northwest, since there seem to be a lot of white people in that direction. 

6. I would be one unstoppable human being, if my motivational thoughts in the shower also existed outside of the shower. 

H.A.K.A.S.

Bad Jonno Jobs

When you’re looking for work you typically try to think of all the jobs you would be good at. Since that’s depressing and kind of annoying, I thought it would be more fun to think of all the jobs I would be absolutely horrible at. Come along and go on a journey with me as we look at some miserable jobs for Jonno.

P.S. Recruiters and HR personnel: DO NOT READ THIS! LOL! 
(My laughing turns into crying hysterically) 

Cab Driver:  I wouldn’t say I’m a bad driver, it’s just that I tend to be overly safe and cautious. It also doesn’t help that I have a horrible sense of direction. For instance, It took me 40 minutes to pick up a former co-worker who lived a mile away from me. Because of these issues, I’m insecure about driving people which would make me the world’s worst cab driver. To help reinforce my point even more, here are some of my driving highlights: 

• When I first got my driver’s permit, I didn’t really know how to turn, so I ended up driving my parent’s mini-van into a tree.
• In college, I was driving around at night and I got pulled over by the police, because they thought I was drunk. Sadly, I was 100% sober and just driving poorly.   
• When I lived in downtown Chicago, I once drove my car through an automatic parking garage door of a high-rise. Even though people might not believe me, this was not my fault. The automatic garage door was anti-semitic and refused to go up for me.

Handyman: I don’t know what it is, but I don’t have a handy bone in my body. I can’t even do the simplest of tasks, except for changing light bulbs. I don't mean to brag, but I'm a badass at that.

Ironically, this was also when I lost my virginity.

Typically my landlords like me, but one thing they can’t stand is that I call them with the most   miniscule issues. Some of these include replacing a towel rack, resetting an outlet, or even igniting the pilot to a stove. By the way, would anyone mind coming over to help me hang a few pictures? My landlord is not returning my calls. (Feel free to private message me.)             

Balloon Animal Specialist: I realize this isn’t a real full-time job, but I figured this lack of skill was worth mentioning. My best guess as to why I can’t blow up balloons, is because I got punched in the nose by some ass-wipe kid named Louie in the first grade. I think this messed up my breathing and gave me a deviated septum. Ever since that incident, I have continuously struggled to blow my nose or inhale pot correctly. In college, I was interning at a radio station and we had to blow up balloons for an event. It was horribly embarrassing when the radio station’s staff realized I couldn’t blow up a single balloon. I think the only reason I didn't get fired that day was because everyone enjoyed the free entertainment I was providing.   

When I was a PA for a comedy short film, the producer wanted me to blow up some water flotation device. In order to avoid embarrassment, I politely explained I couldn't do that. The producer couldn’t understand why and yelled at me to do it. With no other choice, I blew into the plastic alligator and of course nothing happened. The producer dude called me an idiot and told me to put my hand over the hole as I blew into it. (Jonno’s fellatio tip of the day) I implemented his instructions and it actually worked! This moment still stands as the biggest accomplishment of my life.         

Stripper: When you’re a former fat kid you are pretty much scarred for life when it comes to taking your shirt off. At a swimming pool you can avoid taking off your shirt by saying you’re allergic to chlorine or that you get burned easily. Unfortunately that excuse would not work as well in a strip club. Then again maybe I could become a bottomless stripper? Actually that wouldn’t work either because I'm also ashamed of that body part. I do have nice legs though. 

They're real and they're spectacular.

Any job involving watching Horror films: You would think at the age of 31, I would be able to tolerate horror films. Sadly this is not the case. I still close my eyes during the trailers or frantically change the channel when a scary commercial pops up on TV. If I ever had to edit a horror film, I would most likely resemble Stevie Wonder playing the piano (minus his smiling and brilliance of course.)

If there is one job I would be good at, it's coming up with scrumptious McNuggets…

1. I found the best Father’s Day gift for my dad this year… A better son.  

2. If you want to hear about other people's break-ups, I recommend going hiking anywhere in LA. 

3. Men all over the world can now thank Michael Douglas for the best excuse to avoid orally pleasuring their girlfriend or wife. 

The star of the sequel to "Falling Down"... "Going Down"

4. Whenever someone tells you they are going to a friend’s birthday party over the weekend, they really have no plans and are embarrassed to admit it.
  
5. Can we all just shut up now about "Arrested Development"? I get that it was an extremely clever show with great characters, but as you can see from their latest comeback there was a reason it was cancelled. Speaking of comebacks... Where the heck is "Alf"?  

6. Finally got to watch “The Hunger Games” and I was pleasantly surprised to have enjoyed it. The only thing is that I have this gut feeling it should have been a book. 

H.A.K.A.S.

Jonno says "I Do"

Recently the unthinkable happened…A lovely, vivacious and wonderful woman agreed to marry me without bribery, drugs, or physical force. (Wait a second, does a taser gun count as physical force? I think it's debatable.) Even though the wedding was one of the best moments of my life, there were of course some uncomfortable Jonno moments to share with you. 

Wednesday

6am: On my Southwest flight to Nashville, sitting a few rows behind me was the one and only Al Gore. I walk up to him and say, “Is it our rugged good looks or global warming because it’s getting hot on this plane!” Understandably, I didn’t get a response from him.

Noon: After we land in Nashville, Al Gore runs away from me and I find out the delightful news that my connecting flight to Cleveland has been cancelled because of a mechanical issue. I’m now stuck at the Nashville airport for 8 hours until the next flight to Cleveland. So what do I do to kill time? Throw a hissy fit on the phone to my poor fiancée, eat crap at the airport, bother friends and call them, eat more crap at the airport, speak to a Time Warner representative for over two hours and stare at travelers. I finally arrive in Cleveland at 11pm.

Thursday

10am: The lady and I have numerous errands… I decide to wait in the car, while she returns an item at Macys. We had just picked up my fancy white gold wedding ring from the jeweler and I begin to play with it. Being the coordinated gent that I am, I drop the ring and it falls in between my seat and the middle console. Can someone explain to me why is there that space in between the seat and the middle console? Does it serve a purpose other than to break your hand as you try to retrieve your keys, phone or money? As I struggle to get the ring, I quickly see my life flash before my eyes and having to explain why I lost the ring . After ten minutes of frantically searching, I somehow find the ring. The fiancée returns to the car to see me drenched in sweat and disheveled. I tried to blame it on global warming, but Al Gore wasn’t around to back me up. (Get it? That’s what we call in the business a callback joke.)  

For the love of God, just leave me alone.

Friday

7pm: My family and friends attend a scrumptious rehearsal dinner hosted by my parents. Twenty minutes into the dinner, I try to pour my lady some red wine and I spill it all over my khaki pants. For the duration of the dinner, I have to explain to everyone why there is a big wet spot on my pants.

Saturday  (Wedding Day)

9am: Because my soon to be wife is crazy when it comes to races, she drags me into the doing a 5K race the morning of the wedding. After the race, a local news station wants to interview us. Because I'm grumpy for having to wake up early, I decline the interview and for the rest of the wedding all I hear is "How could you pass up a TV interview?"
 
5pm: I’m putting on my tux and having some issues with the bow tie and cufflinks. The only person available to ask for help is my future father-in-law since he was giving me a ride to the wedding. He is gracious enough to assist me and we have a lovely private and intimate moment together. I also have a feeling he's concerned that the man who is supposed to take care of his daughter for the rest of her life can't put on clothes by himself. 

7:30pm: The weather for the ceremony is absolutely gorgeous and I’m about to walk down the aisle with my parents. Walking right before me is the ring bearer. (Fiancee’s 6-year-old nephew) For some unexplained reason, he delivers the ring and decides to walk back and blocks us from walking down the aisle. Under my breath and grinding my teeth, I yell for him to sit down. Instead of sitting in his seat, he plops down right in the middle of the aisle. Lovely.

8pm: The ceremony wraps up and it’s time for me to perform the Jewish tradition of breaking the glass. I’m concerned that I’ll stupidly miss the glass, it won’t break, or that I’ll pull a Larry David and step on the cantor’s hand. God and the Jewish Jesus must have been watching over me because I break the glass (light bulb) in one swoop.   

9pm: During the reception we dance to “The Hora” where my wife and I get lifted up on chairs. For some reason I get lifted up for a few moments early, while my wife doesn’t. Finally she gets lifted up, but the guys that were picking me up are too tired to raise me again. If you’re ever looking to be humbled, then I highly suggest experiencing several men struggling to lift you up in front of 150 people.    

This must be like how every fat kid feels like on a seesaw.

Midnight: After the band finishes, we surprise our guests with some karaoke. I do a horrible rendition of the Foo Fighters "Best of You" that causes complete silence, blank stares and one of my wife's friends to fall asleep. In other words, a typical day for me.     

Sunday

Noon: After a spectacular wedding weekend we say goodbye to everyone at brunch. Before we leave for our honeymoon, we get some words of advice from my mother-in-law. (With a concerned look on her face) “Please be safe. You always hear about those honeymoon murder stories on "Dateline.”  And I don't want you to be one of them."

My mother-in-law is an extremely sweet and intelligent woman, but I don't see a future career for her in motivational speaking. 

     

Excuse me, do you know what time it is?  I do know because it's McNugget time!  

1. After seeing how easy it was to make the locals in St. Lucia laugh during my honeymoon... I'm looking to create a comedy career in St. Lucia, similar to David Hasselhoff's music career in Germany.    

2. My favorite part of jogging is having the opportunity to knock over small children and the elderly.

3. The only torpedoes I cared about in Star Trek into Darkness, were the ones possessed by Alice Eve. Am I right?

4. I recently heard they are going to remake the movie "Weird Science", but unfortunately I have a bad feeling about it. 

It might work better as a horror film.

5. What a fabulous career for Brian Urlacher.  Now he has time to focus on his other career... Getting women pregnant.
 

6. I would be a happy man if my penis and testicles decided to swap sizes.

H.A.K.A.S.