Mother's Day, Wet Dreams, and Matthew McConaughey

A Happy Mother's Day to all!

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

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

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

Other McNuggets...

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

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

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

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

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

I'm Out!

Edward Retardo-Hands

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

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

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

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

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

I'm Out!

Shared Water Bottles, Passover and Jay Cutler

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm Out!

Douchebaggery, Sweet Home Chicago, and Big Macs

You would think going out to breakfast on a Sat. morning @ 9:30 you would be in the clear of any douchebaggery, unfortunately that was not the case this past weekend for your friend Jonno. I was standing in line at nice cafeteria located within a grocery store – your order your food with the cashier and another server brings the food out to your table. Well, there were these two dudes (late 20's) in suits in line in front of me. I'm not really paying attention to them, because I'm engrossed with the menu and trying to figure out what I should feed my fat kid Robert with. After I make my decision (Cobb Omelet), I realize that the two douches are holding up the line. I turn around and I see a good six or seven people behind us. First of all, anytime you see two young guys in suits early on a Saturday morning, you know it’s not going to be good for business. There was a guy in between me and the two douches, and he politely asks them if they are in line to order. One of the douches turns around and says in a sarcastic and rude tone "It will just be a minute. Okay?" And I'm thinking in my head, "Here we go!" Finally, they walk up to the register to order and they start joking around with the cashier. I turn around and see there are about 10 people in line now, and these two idiots, don't even care that they are holding up this line. Finally, after about five minutes of banter with the cashier, they order and leave. Good riddance right? Not so fast.

We were meeting my GF's parents for breakfast and they had gotten there before us and already had a table. I walk over to them and of course her parents are sitting at a table right in front of the two douches. It turns out the two douches have been there for quite a while and were on their 2nd bottle of wine (yes, at 9:30 in the morning!) The douches are sitting with some woman in a business suit, but I don't think I heard a peep out of her. The douches were having an intense conversation and just dropping F-bombs and obscenities left and right. I don't know exactly what their conversation was about, but for a few minutes I felt like I was part of the movie "Boiler Room". I then hear one of the guys ask if they should get a third bottle of wine. At this point, I'm thinking I better get the hell out of here before I get a bottle smashed on my head, because this is only going to get uglier. We finished our breakfast and head out down the stairs to exit. All of us, were talking about how crazy the Douches were. And of course walking up the stairs passed us was Douche #1. Can you say awkward? We then go outside and walk down the street. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a guy running full speed in the middle of street dodging cars. And of course it is Douchebag #2. I have no idea what the hell he was doing or where he was going, but it felt like no matter where we went, we could not get away from them. Of course about an hour later we walk past the window of the café and who’s still sitting there probably drink bottle #5? Yep, you guessed it – the douches. They probably sat there all day annoying innocent people like me with their douchebaggery.

I hope all of you learn a lesson from this and realize that douchebaggery is a serious subject that cannot be taken lightly. It us up to all of us to inform our youth about the severe dangers of douchebaggery. The next time you see your young child, get frosted hair tips; pop up his collar; wear a suit on Saturday when it is not for a funeral, wedding, meeting or bar mitzvah; tan five days a week’ wear a fedora hat; or just act like a complete jackasss in general, please get him counseling… immediately.

Other McNuggets (Btw, what's the most McNuggets you've ever eaten? I've put down a 20 piece before. If you want to have a contest, please let me know.)

-I cannot stand it when I get a foot long from Subway and the sandwich is not cut in half fully. I don't know why they would cut 3/4 of it and not the whole thing, because what happens is that I have to tear the friggin sandwich on my own and then it all falls apart in a big mess. I don't know about you, but it’s not like I have this gigantic sandwich knife that I can just pull out of my desk drawer at work. And if I did, that would just be kind of creepy.

-I think a law should be passed that if you are jogging outside and the people walking taking up the entire pathway in front of you are too dumb to realize that they should move out of your way, you should then just be allowed to push them out of your way. And since I am person of equality, it shouldn't matter if it’s a small child or an elderly lady. Everybody is fair game to get knocked out. Who's with me?

-I was waddling to work the other day, and since this is Chicago, I of course had some random dude come up to me. He says "Excuse Me! Excuse Me!" Given that I was running late for work, I unfortunately could not take time to help this man with solving world issues like the economy, terrorism, and global warming... So instead of being a jerk-off, I said "Sorry" and just kept on walking. He then replied "Sorry because I'm black!" Everybody please sing it with me... Ready one, two, three... "To the Same Old Place, sweet home Chicago".

-Speaking of this wonderful city, there is nothing better than at the end of March walking in a few inches of wet, slushy snow, and then getting pelted in the head from these heavy ass snowballs falling from the trees. All I needed was somebody to give me a wedgie and a punch in the balls and I would have been officially in hell.

-Is it wrong that when I saw the new trailer for the next Real World/Road Rules Challenge that I jumped off the couch, pumped my fist in the air, and screamed on the top of my lungs with joy? My gut instinct tells me yes.

-I finally saw "Milk" and the movie was decent. But after seeing Sean Penn jam his tongue down James Franco's throat, I was easily convinced he deserved the Oscar for Best Male Actor. Sorry Mickey Rourke, but kissing Maris Tomei ain't the same thing. Nice comeback though.

-I am convinced that Jay Leno has to be one of the worst TV personalities in history. I was dumb enough to stay up and watch his interview with President Obama. A friggin mute chimp could have done a better job interviewing our President. I think Obama's Special Olympic comment was done purposely not to offend anybody, but to keep the audience out of a coma.

-When the Chicago Bulls score over 100 points and win a game at home, everybody in the stands gets a free Big Mac. Well this past week, the Bulls had an important game against the Pistons. They ended up winning the game 99-91. Kirk Hinrich, who had a phenomenal game, missed a free throw that would have given them 100 points and everyone a free Big Mac. At the end of the game, fans booed loudly and even personally at Hinrich, who pretty much was the reason they won. I have an idea, instead of shooting T-Shirts out of that blasting gun device into the stands, I say we shoot piles of monkey feces at all of those idiotic obese fans. That should shut them up.

I'm Out!

Yellow Tape, A Smiley Haitian, and Jennifer Anniston

I was walking to work the other day, listening to the Jonas Brothers on my ipod (don't judge - I can't control what comes on the shuffle) and there was a crazy amount of street construction going on. I was kind of zoning out in my own world (this usually consists of my dreaming of rainbow sprinkles, Muppets, and breasts). I attempted to cross the street, but it was blocked off with yellow tape. One would think the yellow tape would be a sign to an individual, "Hey Dumbass, don't walk this way", but being the rebel that I am, I kept walking ahead. I figured I could just step over the yellow tape or do an awkward limbo underneath it, but right as I was approaching the yellow tape head on, like a mean, angry bull.... My left foot sinks down into the ground, like quicksand. My foot had to go into the cement substance at least a good 3 feet. Yeah, this cement substance had apparently not dried yet. I lift my foot out of the gook and it is completely smothered in cement. And of course with my luck, I had to be wearing my 7 Jeans, which happen to be the most expensive jeans that I own. I'm sure many of you are wondering why a schlub such as myself would be wearing designer jeans. And that is a valid question-- I wake up many mornings wondering the same thing. But, back to the story – so, I take my left leg out of the cement. I feel like the biggest idiot in the world. I quickly turn around to see if anybody witnessed this disaster and I of course I see a few people snickering. Fuckers! I debated going back home and changing, but I was already running late as it was. So I decided to just plunge ahead. I really did feel like jackass walking down the street with one leg drenched in cement. I felt like a version of the comic book villain Two Face, except my name would be Two Foot. Or would it be Two Feet? I'm not sure, but you get the idea. Even though I endured much public embarrassment and humiliation from my incident, I feel like a hero in some ways. Because from my misfortunes, I can now protect and spread the awareness to rest of America and our children from the dangers of Yellow Construction Tape.

Other Chicken McNuggets.....

-The best part of St. Patricks Day is not the parades and the all day drunkenness... It's the fact that you know McDonalds is now offering the shamrock shake.

-I was on the bus coming back from the Bulls game and there was a Haitian male in his late 40's sitting by himself. As I was attempting to talk to my GF, I kept seeing the Haitian male smiling and giggling at me out of the corner of my eye. I did my best to ignore him, but I could not help myself from occasionally glancing at him. Every time I looked at him he would be smiling at me. It felt like this was a game you play with a two-year-old child. You know the whole peek-a-boo game, except I was playing it with a Haitian male in his late 40's, on a bus at 11 o’clock on a Saturday night. A little strange I would say. But, to make a long story short, it must have been fate. Serendipity if you will, because as I write this, he is soaking my left cemented foot in hot water, while wearing a thong. And of course he is smiling at me.

-Before I mention this next nugget... I've noticed many older and younger relatives of mine hopping on the facebook bandwagon. Which is perfectly fine, this is a social networking site for the public, but be aware, you might see or hear stuff that may be more than a bit disturbing and inappropriate. I apologize in advance, but it is my duty to inform the public on my awkward misfortunes.

-I really think my "special member" is playing tricks one me. I don't know if any of you males or she-males have this issue, but whenever I'm done urinating, I give it two or three shakes to double-check, I then zip up my pants thinking I'm finished, and then (surprise) a few drips shoot out. This is constantly happening and I don't get it. I don't know if I should go on Oprah and ask Dr. Oz about this or if I should wear a diaper, but this is getting awfully frustrating. On the other hand, I know my "special member" is having a ball with the practical jokes. And don't even get me started what "he" does to me when I have a check-up at the doctor's office. Let's just say, he has a tendency to do his best "turtle impression".

-Speaking of my special member, what's the deal with Jennifer Anniston? I just don't get it! Something must be up with the gal. I mean I know she was dating douchebag Mayer, but how does this girl keep on getting dumped? She is friggin gorgeous and a highly successful actress. She must be one hell of a psychotic biatch behind closed doors, but even that wouldn't be enough for guys to keep on dumping her. There are plenty of dudes who marry hot ass basket cases. I think there's something else about her, which is why I've come to the conclusion that she is a constant, obsessive farter. She must pass the worse gas and give the most vile Dutch Ovens than no human has given before. That is the only explanation that would make sense to me

I'm Out!

Chipotle, Grunting, and Hugh Jackman

I waddled into Chipotle the other day to get some grub. I went with my usual, the burrito bowl with chicken. Now the secret to the burrito bowl is to ask for extra rice. This way you get more food without paying extra. (And btw, I'm fully aware I'm pathetic.) This old trick was taught to me by a friend a few years back. It is very imperative that you get the timing down as to when you ask for the extra scoop of rice. You have to make sure you ask for it right after she's scooped the first serving of. So I admit, I was a little rusty. I haven't had a burrito bowl in a while, so I knew my timing would be a bit off. I focused in on the Chipotle server to the best of my ability. When I felt the timing was right, I asked for my extra rice. I felt did a decent job, after being out of the game for a while. The chipotle server turned to one of her co-workers, said something in Spanish, and laughed. I'm not exactly sure what they said, but my guess is that it's something along the lines of "Hey, check out this cheap fatso trying to get more rice. What a loser." They can say whatever they want, but that's not going to stop me from getting my extra scoop of rice.

Speaking of Chipolte, I had the pleasure of using a public bathroom recently. I was finishing up my business in one of the stalls and some dude bursts into the bathroom breathing extremely heavy, almost panting. The combination of the burst and heavy breathing is never a good sign. It usually means, get out of the bathroom as fast as you can. This is not going to be pretty. And that was exactly the case. The dude gets in a stall, dropped his pants, and starts moaning and grunting like no other. Now, I've dropped some major loads in my day. But never once have I resorted to such obscene and repulsive grunting. Okay, maybe there was that one time with the jalapenos, but in all fairness that was in the privacy of my own home. The grunter would not let up, I thought he was giving birth to octuplets in there or something. I know you're struggling there buddy, but keep the sound effects to yourself. The lesson here is people, whenever somebody bursts into the bathroom at a rapid pace, you get the hell out of there at a rapid pace.

Other McNuggets.... (Sorry, I just drooled on myself.)

-I watched the Oscars the other night. I understand that the reason they chose the hunky, beefcake Hugh Jackman to host, is that they were trying to appeal to all the women out there. But there are a decent amount of men who watch the Oscars. And I don't find Hugh Jackman particularly funny nor entertaining. So the next time you pick some boring stud muffin as a host, at least have some Scarlett Johansson cleavage in the background. It's only fair.

-I was crunching on some pretzels at work the other day in my cubicle. And in my own head the crunching sounded so loud, as if it was Godzilla trying to eat a car. So I became extremely self-conscious about this and wondered if the crunching is as loud to the other people sitting around me? I may just have to tape record myself crunching, to get the bottom of this. Don't worry, I'll let you in on the results.

-I know there is all this controversy over what the hell is up with Joaquin Phoenix and his Letterman appearance. First of all, I highly doubt Joaquin Phoenix was doing some sort of act. The guy has always been a bit on the loony side. His parents were part of a cult, he endured the traumatic death to his brother, and I remember hearing he has some sort of social phobia. But I will tell you this about the guy, he is one hell of an actor. He would be a fool to retire from acting. That would be like me retiring from eating and waddling. If you haven't seen him in "We Own The Night" and "Two Lovers" you're definitely missing out. He's right up there with Leonardo Dicrapio.

-In other news, I've heard reports that Rihanna and Chris Brown are getting back together. Anybody who is falling for this crap, is too gullible. What's going on here , is that she's trying to help Chris Brown's image and get his career back together. It's more of a publicity stunt. I also believe she's trying to play mind games with me, by playing hard to get. Rihanna, I get it. I can play that game if you want, but I'm just too mature for that. If it's really meant to be, we will be together under your umbrella.

I'm Out!

Rihanna & Chris Brown: The True Story

I am very sorry to hear about Chris Brown's and Rihanna's altercation. I hope Chris Brown is properly punished for what he did. But I do have some inside information as to why the incident happened. In one of my previous blogs, I had mentioned that I bumped into Mr. Brown & Rihanna at The Grove movie theater in LA back in August. So this is what happened...

A hot sexy beefcake, Jonno, waddles into a movie theater carrying an extra large bucket of popcorn. He bumps into Chris Brown and Rihanna. Jonno and Rihanna lock eyes. There is mutual attraction. Chris Brown scowls at Jonno with jealousy.

Chris Brown: (To Rihanna) What you looking at that dude for?
Rihanna: What's your problem? I can look at whoever I want. That Jonno boy is fine!
Chris Brown: You best not be looking at any other boys! I don't care how fine that Jonno is and I know he is fine!
Rihanna: Whatever...
Chris Brown: In 6 months, I'm going to get in argument with you in a car, before the Grammy's, and hit you because of this!

AND SCENE.

Other Nuggets (This reminds me of Chicken McNuggets. Hmmmm....)

-I was in Banana Republic the other day, looking for some jeans. One of the sales associates comes up to me and asks if they could help me. I said sure, I'm looking for some jeans either 34x34 or 36x34. He then replies, hmmm... that's not a normal size. Thanks buddy, you really know how to make a customer feel good about himself. I'll be sure next time to make sure I go to the Big and Tall Freaks Republic.

-I'm sure everybody by now is familiar with the over-done and over-used "That Was Easy" Staples Advertising Campaign. They sell the red buttons that you can press it and it says those exact words. I guess at first it was a cute concept and amusing, but now it's annoying and old. Apparently people at my work have been living under a rock for the last 2 years. There's been about 3 instances recently, where somebody has seen the red button for the first time and then laughed hysterically. And then pressed it repeatedly. I mean what's next? Are they going to start doing Borat impressions and singing Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" all day?-

I was in the elevator the other day with this peculiar man. I pressed "13" because I was going to the 13th floor. And he asked me to press "18" for him because he was holding stuff. He then says to me in a very creepy voice, "Oooh 13 that's not good. It's Friday the 13th." I reply, "Oh yeah I didn't realize that." He says, "I would be careful if I were you." At this point, I'm a little spooked out and thinking this is the longest elevator ride to the 13th floor in my life. He then says, "Do you know who's coming here this weekend?" I reply, "I don't." He's says, "Well you should know." I was like okay??? And he says, "I'm not going to tell you." I was ready for him to then say, "It's me! And I'm going to slice your head your off!" How about having the security guards not just in the main lobby, but the elevators too. Just a thought.

-I hope everybody had a wonderful and fantastic Valentine's Day. Except to all the girls in my lifetime who have rejected me or would not give me the time of day. And to all the girls that I have rejected in my lifetime... Unfortunately there are none. Well there was that one transvestite... Does that count?

I'm Out!

Playing Footsie, Fat Jessica, and the Po-lice.

-I had the pleasure of going to an in-door water park this past weekend. I'm sure many of you are wondering, "Why would you go to an in-door water park?" Let me get back to you on that one, I'm still not exactly sure. Moving on, while I was in the hot tub, this heavy-set, burly, tattooed man kept on playing footsie with me. I believe it was unintentional, but at the same time I still felt used and violated. But I guess that is the price you have to pay, when you have hot, sexy feet. In other news, my left foot now has crabs.

-After a two year hiatus, I started watching "Lost" again. I don't understand why a TV show has to be so confusing. Enough with the time change and everything. I barely know what day it is and the date in my own life. Remember the birthday party game, "Pin the Tail on the Donkey"? You would get spun around a few times, while being blind-folded. Well, that's exactly how I feel after watching each episode. One word please for the "Lost" writers, SIMPLIFY.

-I've overheard all these rumblings that Jessica Simpson has gotten fat. So I took time out of my busy schedule to see what all the hub bub was about... Okay, she looks like she might of put on 5-7 pounds. But I still wouldn't call her fat. If that's fat, then please call me for now on, Mumbo Jumbo Jonno. Fat is somebody like Rosie O'Donnell. (I apologize Rosie, for using you as an example) or that James Gandolfini Sopranos guy. That's fat. I think we've all forgotten the definition of what it means. Jessica, I know you are reading this because you are one of my biggest (Not physically big) fans... Feel free to come over to my place and I will console with my hot, sexy feet during these tough times.

-I went to go see "Taken" the other night. Good fast-paced movie and Liam Neeson gave me a heterosexual hard on. Anyways, I'm sitting there with my GF shoveling popcorn into my mouth and I noticed all these kids at the theater. I'm not talking high school kids, these are kids who looked like they were in the 3rd grade. If I was in 3rd grade, why the hell would I want to see a movie about an ex CIA Spook whose daughter gets taken away by Albanians for sex trafficking? When I was that age I was watching Alf and Ninja Turtles, while I picked my nose. (Actually, I still do that) And who are these parents accompanying them that have no idea what the movie is about? I just don't get it! Anyways, as I was saying... I'm sitting at the theater and five more kids coming running in. They looked like they were probably in the 6th grade. They run up the stairs like annoying bastards and of course they sit right behind me. Crap! So we got up and moved somewhere else. Now I've never done this before, but I saw some of the handicapped seats open. And in most of my movie viewing experiences I hardly ever see a handicapped person sit in those seats. I've seen some elderly people, but that's about it. So we sit in the "special" seats. I'm content with myself that I made the right seating decision. A few minutes later I look to the left and I see a female in a wheel chair. She looks at me and I feel like the biggest douche in the world. We get up and offer her our seats and she politely accepts them. Now the theater is pretty much full, so we have nowhere to sit. The female in the wheel chair ends sitting in a different seat. So then my GF and I move back to the original seats. I still felt bad about what had happened, but I was glad to see she had found a better option. The lights go down and the movie is about to start and in walks this large and in charge dude, who sits right next to us. Okay, not the worst thing. But then he starts eating the most foul smelling fast food I've ever experienced. It smelled like White Castle meets Lean Cuisine Dinners. So I have now come to the conclusion that I will boycott going to the movies for the rest of my life. Good God!

-This is something that has been on my mind for a while now, but I keep on forgetting to discuss it, What is the deal with the Police in Chicago? Why is it that I never see any policeman downtown? Where are they? What are they doing all day? I don't even see them drive by. I'm beginning to wonder that maybe those "Police Academy" movies weren't so far-fetched. If I was deranged enough to want to rob somebody, I would have a field day in Chicago. There is no way, you would get caught with any repercussions. The few times I do see cops is when they are going to go get food, or if they're shopping. And just recently I hear a story that totally validates my thoughts on the Chicago police. Apparently a 14-year-old boy posed as a Chicago cop and rode in a police car last Saturday, After 5 hours of patrolling and protecting our streets, they finally realized he was not a cop because he was missing a star on his uniform. Are you friggin kidding me? Who is the dumbass officer at the police station that allowed the pimply faced, voice cracking kid to go the assignment? Who is the other buffoon that rode with him in the car for 5 hours and didn't realize it was weird that he wanted to listen to the Jonas Brothers on the radio? All I'm waiting to hear next is that Rod Blagojevich has entered the Chicago Police Academy Training Program.

-Since the Super Bowl is today, I will give my two cents if anybody gives a crap. First of all, I have to say it's one of the most overrated events. All these people watch the game that have no interest in football. They watch the commercials, see the half-time show, eat lots of food, and socialize at some friend of a friend's party. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with that, but I would just like to make that observation. And usually the game itself is boring and not that all compelling. Except for last year's game, that was one of the best I've ever seen. This year's game, I predict won't be that enjoyable. You have the Steelers, who are one of the most boring teams to watch vs. Cardinals, who are one of the worse teams to ever make the Super Bowl. You have an outstanding defense (Steelers) vs. a very high octane offense (Cardinals). I would like the Cardinals to win, mainly because they are the underdogs and there's nothing really to like about the Steelers. Unfortunately a great defense will always beat a great offense. Plus, nobody talks about the Steelers offense, which isn't too shabby. Steelers 27 Cardinals 14.

I'm Out!

The Drunken Nacho Whore

Any time I'm able to go to a Bulls game, it's usually a very enjoyable experience for me. I love watching the game live and also eating the food. My favorite thing to get are the nachos. There's just something about eating nachos at a live sporting event that makes the taste extra scrumptious. I don't know if it's something in the air, but I salivate when I dip that tortilla chip in the gooey, fattening, artificial cheese. I have run into a few problems with the jalapeno peppers. Problems, which I rather not disclose if you catch my drift. So I've learned to eat the peppers in moderation, because you gotta at least have some.

So I'm sitting down, inhaling a slice of pizza(the appetizer before the nachos), and watching the game with my buddy. I realized that about 5 minutes into the 1st quarter, all the seats around me were pretty much vacant. Even though I was sitting in the balcony, you still would think the first 3 rows would be occupied. But I wasn't complaining, because I've had enough idiots sit by me and ruin games in my life. So I began to wonder, maybe miracles can really happen. Maybe I'll be able to enjoy the game and more importantly my nachos in peace. Right then, in comes a friggin bus load of these yuppies. There had to be around 30 of them, a mixture of guys and girls. I had no idea where the heck they came from and why there were so many of them, but boy did they look annoying. The majority of them were carrying alcoholic beverages and seemed like they had been boozing for a while. You could tell they had absolutely no interest in the game and were just going for the social experience. Kind of like going to a Cubs game. After about 3o minutes of trying to figure out where their seats where, the yuppie train finally sat down. I turned to my buddy and just shook my head. I knew we would be in for a long night.

The yuppie train eventually settled down and I was able to somewhat enjoy the game. On my mind now, was when to get the nachos. I thought about getting them during the 2nd Quarter, it was too soon. I thought about getting them during halftime, just did not feel right. 5 minutes into the 3rd Quarter, the inner fat kid was crying and it was time to make the move. I get the nachos and sit down. They look as beautiful as ever. I look to my right and most of the yuppies were gone. I assume they all went for some more booze. Life could not be better. Out of nowhere, this drunken girl walks 10 seats down and plops right next to my buddy. He was eating his nachos periodically throughout the game. So he was near the last stage of the nacho eating. So this drunk girl sits next to my buddy and digs her hand into his nachos and starts eating them. I couldn't believe the nerve of that girl! I've been in plenty of intoxicated states before, but never have I stooped to the level of eating somebody's nachos. Fortunately for my buddy, he was almost done so it wasn't the biggest deal. The drunken moocher, takes a chip and spills cheese all over herself. I then thought to myself, who is the lucky man that is going to marry this wonderful bride? Even though it was a bit annoying, I kind of laughed it off. What did I care? My nachos weren't being abducted.

Then out of nowhere with supernatural strength, the drunken nacho whore ripped my box of nachos out of my hands. I was in shock. Here I am, just trying to enjoy the game and eat this heavenly treat and I got some idiot taking them away from me. So I kind of just lost it. I refused to be defeated by this individual. If you want to harm anything, take me before you take my nachos. So I got up out of my seat and I guess just started yelling at her. I don't remember exactly what I said because it was in the heat of the moment, but I believed I had called her a f-in retard. I apologize to my loyal readers, for my classless language, but I was infuriated. So after I've called her a retard and gotten my nachos back, this yuppie douche in the row in front of me turns around and starts yelling at me. "Don't call my friend a retard! She's my friend!" Well if she's your friend, then control her because she's out of control! So we say a few things back and forth. The drunken nacho whore calls me a f-in asshole. Because let's face it people, I am one horrible human being. I really couldn't believe I was involved in this mess. I pretty much didn't even want eat the nachos anymore. Then another one of the yuppie girls, says to me "Umm are you in the right seats?" What? Hello! We've only been sitting here for two hours you dimwit! I wondered what's next? Is somebody going to whack me in the head with a frying pan?

A minute or two later, the drunken nacho theif takes a box of nachos(not mine) and throws them over the balcony. This shows you how out of control she was. Of course security doesn't see it nor do anything about it. And I wasn't going to rat her out and have 30 of her yuppie friends ready to cut my throat. After she threw the nachos over the balcony, the yuppie douche who was yelling at me just a few moments ago, turns around and says "Sorry, you're right. She really is retarded." Well no shit, Sherlock! I appreciate your apology, but you're a little too late. I tried to go back to my nachos and it just wasn't the same. The emotion, the love, the passion, just wasn't there. To make matters worse, every so often the drunken nacho whore would stick her hand out near me and I would have to feed her a nacho. I felt like I was feeding a baby monkey. It was almost like a horror movie, where you keep on thinking the killer is dead, but they keep on coming back. It seemed like this creature had like 9 lives or something. Why couldn't of she fallen over the balcony, rather than that box of nachos?

I refuse to let this incident, alter my devotion and feelings for nachos. They are still the apple in my eye, the thing that makes my stomach drop when I see it, and more importantly the thing that completes me. Just like in any relationship, you are going to have your highs and lows. And this was definitely a low-point for my nacho relationship. But as I've learned through my wise awkward years, this will only make us stronger. And I truly believe that my next nacho experience, will be the best ever.

I'm Out!

The Return of Air Douche

After a little under a three year hiatus, I made my triumphant return to the basketball court. My return wasn't necessarily horrible, but it wasn't good. I should mention that the league I joined is a co-ed league. My rational for the co-ed league, was so that I could have a better chance at competing. I'm not trying to be sexist by any means, because I'm a huge Sheryl Swoopes and Cynthia Cooper fan. But let's call a spade a spade here, there's a bit of a difference. Plus, it always fun to throw a few elbows at some butchy broads.

The game is about to start and I meet my teammates. One of my teammates, is my brother-in-law, who hasn't played basketball in 6 years. So as you can see, not a great start to the roster. The basketball jersey, was a little tight fitting on him and he looked like he was ready to burst out like "The Hulk". I was worried the jersey was going to cut off his circulation. We have four girls on our roster, but only one showed up because of the weather. The problem with that, is that league rules say you have to have two girls on the court at all times. Fortunately, the other team felt sorry for us and allowed us to play with four guys.

My plan was to come off the bench and provide instant offense like Steve Kerr, but since "The Hulk" (Brother-In-Law) wasn't budging, I had to start. Right away, I could tell our opposing team was going to be a tough match-up. They appeared to all know each other and took the shoot-around very seriously. My shoot-around didn't go very well. I think I hit like 1 out of the 20 shots I took. My talent in basketball, is shooting... I really don't offer that much else, besides maybe a decent basketball IQ. I knew it was going to be difficult to get back in a shooting rhythm after being away for a few years. So it didn't seem like I had prayer of hitting a shot in the game.

The ball gets tipped off and as "The Joker" says... "And here we go!" My defense is usually horrible. The main problem is that I'm not quick enough to guard a lot of people. So I usually try to guard, smaller/ slower people. The problem with that strategy, is usually the smaller they are, the faster they are. Unless, you are guarding Danny Devito. Right off the bat, the opposing team takes off and whips our ass. I think they got to like a 20 point lead, before we even scored. They were a talented squad, who unfortunately enjoyed to run. Which did not bode well for my stamina five minutes into the game.

I don't know what it is about basketball, but it's a hell of a work-out for your body. I don't run a lot, but I do about 2 1/2 miles 4-5 times a week. So you would think, I could handle a basketball game, but that was unfortunately not the case. At the ten minute mark, I was sweating so much, you would of thought my hair was flooding like Katrina. So at that point I figured to grab some bench. We ended up getting demolished by the other team. And the girls on the their team, we're awfully feisty. Man, here I thought I was going to be schooling them and they were knocking me around like a punching bag. You would think being 6'3/200 pounds, I would be able to use my size to my advantage. But instead I stand on the perimeter and use my size like Mugsy Bouges. And I even got blocked by some 5'7 Indian kid. Too bad they didn't get that on Sportscenter.

In the 2nd half of the game, I actually shot decently well. I hit a few jumpers, including a three pointer and ended up with 9 points. Definitely not outstanding, but I'll take it for being out of the game so long. By the end of the game, I was wiped out and couldn't even make a coherent sentence. But then again, I always have trouble making coherent sentences. Three days later, today, my legs are still aching. And in other news, "The Hulk" is still wearing the same jersey because he can't get it off. We shall see what happens next week. Maybe I can get blocked by a 4-foot Dutch midget?

I'm Out!

The Curious Case of Bacon, Zoos, and Islam

-The Bulls are breaking my heart. I've tried to support and be behind them, but they keep on letting me down. I know they're young and have had bad luck with injuries, but that's still no excuse for the way they've been playing. John Paxson (General Manager), I know you are reading this... Save this ship from sinking as soon as possible because there's no Leo or Celine Dion music to help you out.

-Because the Bulls have let me down, I've turned to somebody else for love and affection. And that somebody else is Bacon. Is there a better food out there than Bacon? If there is, please feel free to write back and let me know. I mean not only is the taste, mouth watering, but it goes great with anything. You can put it on sandwiches, salads, potatoes, pastas, pizza, soups, etc... I'll stop myself before I go into a Bubba Gump rant. But be on the look-out for a "Save the Date" in your mailboxes. I will be popping the question any day now to my Baconetta.

-Is it just me or are zoos overrated? I understand the appeal, it's free and fun to look at different animals, but it has way too many negatives. First of all, the whole darn place smells like feces. They're are way too many people, most of them extremely annoying. And then when you do get to actually see the animals, they're always passed out sleeping. I might as well stay at home, take a nap, and crap my pants. It would be the same experience without the annoying people.

-I recently had the pleasure of seeing "The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button". The real title should of been "The Curious Case Of Why Is This Movie So Long? It's not a bad film by any means, but not even close to the epic "Forrest Gump". (The same writer wrote both films.) My main question is, how was Brad Pitt able to still look hot as an 80-year-old toddler? Nobody else could've pulled that off.

-Sometimes I think I have a handle on my intelligence, but on this past New Year's Eve, I realized I'm really not the sharpest tool in the shed. We were playing Trivial Pursuit with another couple... (Yes I know crazy, wild night!) And I can't remember the exact question, but it was something along the lines of "What eastern religion is the main religion of Djibouti?" I was leaning towards Muslim or Buddhism and I think we went with Buddhism. The answer ended up being Islam. And my response was, "I thought Islam was a country". Which was then followed by blank stares and awkward silence. What people? I only have so much available space in this noggin. You can't hand rugged good looks and intelligence.

-I've recently joined a co-ed basketball league with my brother-in-law. Yes, I did just say co-ed. I've learned it always good to take baby steps in life. I haven't played full-court basketball in the last three years. Which is when I had my 31-point outburst. (You can read all about it in the "Air Douche" blog entry). The first game back might get a little ugly, given the amount of running involved. So if you never hear from me again, it was nice knowing all of you and I hope I've been able to somewhat entertain you in an awkward way.

I'm Out!

An Awkward Christmas Week

-I can't handle this weather anymore. First it gets unbelievably cold, then it gets horribly windy, then the snow starts, then the snow freezes, then the streets and roads are full of ice. Now I have a horrible cold, my nose is running like Niagara Falls and I'm coughing up a lung, while I'm slipping around on the sidewalks like a fat kid on roller skates. Why do we even put up with this?


-My parents adopted a new dog a few months ago. My wonderful dog Barney, passed away last year. The new dog is very cute. He's a 12 pound, terrier/lapsa apsa mix named Pepper. He's very playful, loving and already obsessed with my parents. One night I was over at the house, playing with Pepper. He enjoys playing with his stuff animal Froggie. Basically the concept of the game is that you throw Froggie, Pepper chases after it, and then you have to try and wrangle Froggie away from his mouth. So we are playing the game and Pepper runs over to my parents who are lying on the couch. He drops Froggie onto the ground and sits right by it. I slowly walk towards him, like I'm going to take away Froggie. He stares at me, like he knows we're just playing a game. Out of nowhere, he lunges at me like a speeding bullet and attacks me. This dog lunged at me so fast, I had no time to dodge him. This little shit, bites me on my right leg. It was right on the top of my leg, parallel to my crocth area. So in other words, he was about a few centimeters from biting me in the family jewels. Pepper, if you're reading this, you better look over your shoulder the next time you're walking down a dark alley. Word!


-Speaking of dogs, I saw the movie "Marley and Me" recently... The movie was so-so, a little too slow for my liking. I'll admit it was a bit of a tear jerker. I did not cry, but I came close a few times. I think the last time I cried during a movie was when I was six and saw the "Karate Kid" Jennifer Anniston is amazingly hot, but boy she a boring actress. Okay, she was decent in "Office Space" because of brilliant writing, but otherwise she has pretty much been brutal in everything else. If there is one movie to see right now, it's "Slumdog Millionaire." I wasn't looking forward to seeing it, but all I can say is wow! That's one heck of a film.

-This past Saturday night I was going to my GF's friend birthday party at some trendy club. So when we gave our names to the pompous doorman, he asked us which party are we here for. The girl's name was Liz Hurley. To brighten the doorman's mood, I decided to make a little funny and say "But not the actress unfortunately." After I made the joke, the doorman looked at me with a blank expression and replied, "Did it take you all day to come up with that one?" I'm not saying it was a hilarious joke, where he should of been rolling on the ground laughing, but the A-Hole, didn't have to make me a feel like stupid douche. I mean where are the effort points? That's all I'm saying.

-I had this temp job the other day where I worked as a greeter for a real estate company. They where showing a condo and needed me there in case two different people came to look at the place the same time. Because of the weather and the holiday week, nobody unfortunately came to look at the condo. And I brought nothing to read or do for the whole day. They had a few random books on the shelf and so I started reading the Regis Philbin Biography written in 1995. And that's what I did for seven full hours. Mr. Obama, for the love of God, please help this economy!

I went to a Sister Hazel concert recently. I think they're a great underrated band. But why do other people have to ruin the concert for me? Who started the whole pump your arm in the air and almost hit the person in the face behind you? I could see if we were at a Metallica concert, but this Sister Hazel. People don't need to be waving their arms around like a psychotic Orangutan. And this older couple, is standing right next to me. During one of my favorite ballads "Champagne High," this gray hair, 50 year-old guy decides to yell out the whole song word for word in my ear. It totally hampered my ability to hear the real song. People, next time you go to a concert, enough with the spastic arm movements and the karaoke. There's a reason why there on that stage singing that song and your in the audience watching them next to me.

I'm Out!

Come On Ride, the CTA Train... Woo! Woo!

Chicago is a wonderful city and has a lot to offer. It's affordable, great food, fun night life, corrupt Governors and it's accessible. Between the "L" Trains, Buses, and Taxis it is very easy to get around the city. At the same time the convenient transportation has its negatives.

On a Saturday evening, my GF and I were traveling up north to Lincoln Park to meet some friends for dinner. You would think a few stops on the red line and then a transfer to the brown line would be an easy 25 minute task. But as we've learned throughout the years, nothing in the awkward chronicles world is easy. The first step was to walk from our condo to the red line. This usually is a short walk that takes five minutes. With the blustery winds, spitting ice rain drops, and overall cold temperature the walk felt like it was an hour. It was so nasty out, I almost felt like I was about to throw up. When I saw the sign for the red line, I thought I was walking towards heaven. (Which in reality would consist of rainbow sprinkles, muppets, and breasts.)

We walk down the steps to get on the train. Right before we hit the turn-styles to swipe our CTA (Chicago Transit Authority) cards, there is a homeless guy arguing with one of the CTA workers. Not a big deal, seen it before, but its nothing you like to see. We wait for the train... I'm always a big fan of walking way down the concourse, that way the train won't be as crowded when you get on it since the majority of people are lazy. The train comes and we get on a car that is not too crowded. We sit down and enjoy the ride. Not so fast... The train has a horrid, dispicalbe vomit smell. Not just a standard vomit smell, that I can tolerate. I'm talking about a mega nastry, vile, stench smell so bad, that would make horse manure seem like a perfume. People are on the train had to literally cover up their noses. I'm not trying to point figures, but there was a homeless man sitting a few seats in front of us. After an extensive investigation, we came to the conclustion that his feet were the source of the vomit smell. My GF could not tolerate the smell any longer, so we had to change cars at the next stop.

We change cars and get away from the heinous stench. Now we can comfortably enjoy the rest of the ride. Not so fast... A different homeless guy walks in and gives his 20 second plea for money. I do feel bad for the situation he is in, but given that I've been unemployed for the last few months I unfortunately have nothing to spare. The homeless man moves on to the next car. The train stops, a man gets on, and sits behind us while he talks on his cell phone. He is carrying a large garbage bag with lots of crap in it. I don't intend to be nosey, but when somebody talks really loud I have trouble blocking it out. So it appears this individual is talking to an ex-convict, who just got out of jail and is now homeless. The individual says, "I know your homeless, but I can't help you unless you got your papers in order. Do you have your Social Security Card? Your Birth Certificate? You gotz to have your papers."

So apparently what we have going on is a guy who has a ex-convict, homeless friend and the friend needs his help. The conversation takes a bit of a peculiar direction when the individual on the train starts asking more about his friend's background. "When you call, just ask for Allsion and tell her that I sent you. But they're not going to help you out, if you got shit on your background." I picture the ex-convict/homeless guy on the phone saying "What do you mean by shit?" The individual on the train replies, "Like have you ever killed anybody, raped anybody? Minor defenses are okay, but if you killed or raped anybody then you're in trouble.

As this very pleasant conversation is going on, all of the sudden there is an unbearable screeching sound going on that almost made my ears bleed. It was one of the worst sounds I've ever heard in my life. It was like the combination of fingernails on a chalkboard, going to the dentist, Fran Drescher Karaoke, and my parents making sweet love. (Okay, maybe I went a little far with the last one.) Apparently, the sound was from the train scraping against the tracks during one of its turns. After 30 seconds of this, the screeching sound died down, and it was time to pick-up from our delightful phone conversation.

The individual on the phone then says, "What about any sexual molestation? Because you might have to be around kids or something. Oh sorry man, I can't help you out then." So apparently this ex/convict/homeless friend on the phone, was able to pass the test with murder and rape. But when it came to sexual molestation, he surrendered in defeat. I don't know about you, but molesting always gets me too. As the conversation came to a close, it was finally time to get off and transfer trains. Fortunately, nothing else of importance occurred on the second train and we made it to Lincoln Park safely.

So the next time you want to complain about the CTA and the increase in rates, think twice about it. Make sure you enjoy the free amenities that come with it. Such as, the crazy guy arguing with the CTA worker, the smell of horrid vomit, pan-handlers asking for money, lovely phone conversations about murder, rape, and molestation, and random screeching sounds that will make you go deaf. I love the CTA!

I'm Out!

The Jerry Springer Show

Since there is nothing of great importance for me to talk about this week, I've decided to go into the Awkward vault and share with you a story that happened about five years ago...

I had just graduated college with all the hopes, aspirations, and dreams in the world. I've always been very fond of the entertainment industry and knew that I wanted to write for TV/Film. To avoid moving to LA or New York, I thought why not and work for the "Jerry Springer Show." And that's what I did for about five months of my life. My position title was Production Intern. I thought this internship would open numerous doors for me in the industry. Even though the show had no writers, my naive self thought maybe I could be the first one. I can't say my five months at Springer were an enjoyable experience, but I can say that many interesting stories resulted from it.

We would normally fly the guests in the day before the show. The show paid for all the airfare, hotels, and food. The guests are not paid at all to come on the show. So when the guests fly in, the producers want them to be entertained and have a fun-filled day in Chicago. Because the happier the guests are, the more responsive they'll be to the producer, and the better the show will be. Many of these guests have never been to a big city like Chicago and to avoid them staying out of trouble, they need a chaperon. Any guesses of who that chaperon would be? It's not Jerry... It's not that Bald-Headed A-Hole, Steve Wilko.... It was me! Yes, I was given the great responsibility of entertaining these freaks for a whole day. We would take a lovely waltz down to Navy Pier, stroll down the Magnificent Mile, play at ESPN Sports Zone, or stop in at the House of the Blues. Now don't get me wrong, some of the guests I worked with were decent human beings; others, well, they were probably the worst human beings you have ever met in your life.

One day before the taping, I waddled over to the associate producer to find out what guests would be flying in. Her response to me was that the guests were transvestites and are "awesome!" I realize some you might enjoy transvestites and have friends or family that are ones, or even have fetishes about them. Me on the other hand, I'm kind of scared of them. When I found out the news about the transvestite guests, I was worried, devastated, frightened, and nauseous all at the same time. I thought of ways to get out of it, but there weren't anyway. The only possible way out, was probably to hold Jerry Springer hostage. And we all know that would not be good for business.

The transvestites fly-in to meet me and the rest of the staff. I had no idea what to expect as far as their looks. I'm not saying I have a tranny fetish, but I've seen some decent looking ones in my day. One's where if you were in a dimly lit night club and intoxicated, you could be easily fooled. The two transvestites enter and they are the ugliest creatures I have ever seen in my life. Not because they were ugly transvestites, they were just downright ugly men. One looked like Cookie the Clown from the Bozo Show and the other one had a beard. Ironically, the one with the beard's real name was Jason Biggs. Strangely enough the he/she kind of looked like the actor a little bit. I thought about bringing out an apple pie and seeing how this bearded creature would react. But I did not want to risk Jason Biggs getting anymore sexually riled up. I realize these transvestites were obviously pre-op, but if you are going to dedicate yourself to looking like a woman, I think you would at least shave off your facial hair. But what the hell do I know?

It was time for me to take Cookie the Clown and Jason Biggs to their hotel and check them in. I remember walking them to their room and being a little nervous. Here are theoretically two men who could easily have their way and gang-bang me if they chose to. I'm not sayin I'm some hot young piece of ass, but I'm do-able for an ugly tranny. I open the door to their room, because we have pratically do everything for these people. They follow me in and the door shuts. The room is pinched dark and I can't see a friggin thing. I start to panic to find a light switch before I get tossed on the bed like a rag doll. I swipe my hands across the wall furiously, hoping that I'll come across a light switch or even a fire alarm. Fortunately, I find the light switch and my clothes were still on. Even though it only took me a minute to find the switch, it felt like an eternity. I quickly ask if they are okay, they reply yes, and then I get the hell out of there.

I get back to the Springer office, hoping and praying that I'm done with them. But no, there's more. The associate producer tells me that I would be accompanying them to the House of Blues because they want to go out on the town. I gave a second thought to seriously holding Jerry hostage, but again I wussed out, so I go back to the hotel to meet with my buds Cookie and Jason. They are now all dolled and ready to party. They wear the tightest, sluttiest dresses, that I don't even think prostitutes would wear. And of course, they have piled on tons of perfume. We head over in a cab to the House of Blues. I walk in with the two scantily, ugly transvestites, and here I am wearing an Indiana gray hoodie. Can you tell which person doesn't belong? The whole place is literally silent. It was almost everything stopped at once. Every single person in the joint, is staring at us when their jaws dropped. And there had to be a good 50 people in there. I prayed to God, hoping that there was not one single person there that knew of my existence. I could just picture, somebody I grew up with having dinner at the HOB, wondering, "Hmmm, I wonder what that Jonno (Me) is up to these days." And then boom, here I walk in with the trannies. I could not handle the humiliation and awkwardness any longer. I knew I was suppose to stay with the trannies for a little bit and hang out with them. But I couldn't do it. I got them a table, made sure they were situated, and got the hell out of there.

I don't remember how the show went the next day, nor do I give a crap. All I know is that I will never forget Cookie the Clown and Jason Biggs. Their existence will forever be embedded into my brain. And I don't think I have ever been more scared in my life, than the one minute I was locked into that dark hotel room with them. I hope they are doing okay and maybe have shaved a little bit. Heck, maybe I can even reach out to them on facebook or something and we can reminisce about the Good Old Springer Days. If any of you or know anybody that have a desire to work for the Jerry Springer Show, my advice would be pretty simple... May God Bless You.

I'm Out!

Zack and Miri and Grandmas Make A Porno

This past weekend I had the pleasure of viewing "Zack and Miri Make A Porno." And don't worry I didn't pull a Pee-Wee Herman at the theater. I already did that for "High School Musical 3." What? You obviously did not see the Zack Efron shower scene. Anyways, I waddle into the theater with my big bucket of popcorn and beverage. I don't know about you, but I am cursed at movie theaters. No matter where I sit, what time of day, or how long the movie has been out, I always have some idiot sit by me and ruin the movie. I wish I could be one of those people who can tune it out. But I can't. I also wish I could be one of those people who say something out loud to the idiots. But I can't. Instead I give some sort of mean looking stare, thinking that my intimidating facial expression is going to get the idiots to shut the hell up. When in reality, I look as harmless as a little puppy in the fetal position. Not sure why I used that reference, but let's just go with it.

So whenever I walk into the theater I try to think the opposite of what a normal person would do. And in general most people are lazy. So if I have a choice to enter through the left side or the right side, I will go into the side that is the least convenient. I know it might sound crazy, but for some reason it works. Now this is something I still don't get and maybe some of you can help me out with this... What is the fascination with sitting in the middle? It makes no difference for the movie experience. Don't you realize that? So not only do you have to squeeze by people in the aisle, but you have to surround yourself with people you have no desire to sit by. I can't even tell you the last time I've sat in the middle. My strategy is always to sit in an aisle seat, away from the idiots. I don't know what it is, but I have this psychic ability to tell whose is going to be annoying and disruptive. Just by looking at somebody for one second, I can sense if they are going to be a loud-mouth jackass. Some people find cures, I find the idiots.

So we sit in our seats. An aisle seat towards the back of course. There's a group of middle-aged women down the row, to the right. Now, I knew they were going to be annoying right away. But it wasn't the talking type of annoying. It was the laughing type. You know the type of people who laugh at every single stupid ass thing. Like the people who even laugh at the commercials and the most obvious jokes. For example, when somebody falls down or gets hit the face. These women were rolling on the ground laughing. Man, where were those women when I bombed at doing stand-up? I don't like it, but the laughing idiots are the people I can somewhat tolerate. The non-stop commentary and I'm-so-popular-I-have-a-cellphone idiots, are a whole other story.

There is one other type of movie-goer nobody likes to sit by. And that's the elderly demographic. Don't get me wrong, I love my sweet elderly people. Heck, I practically am one. But if there are two places we rather avoid the elderly - at restaurants and movies. I don't know what it is about them, but they don't know how to shut the hell up when the lights go down. Maybe they don't care anymore or they don't realize it, but whatever the case is they're annoying. So the movie is about to start, I'm sitting in my aisle seat, stuffing my face with popcorn like how a person would eat in a pie eating contest. My laughing buffoons are sitting to my right. Not the best situation, but I can deal with it. Then out of nowhere come these three elderly ladies. And I can hear them talking miles away. I don't know if God was trying to punk me here, but I was devastated. I felt like a fat kid dropping his ice cream cone. They walk up slowly and of course sit in the row behind me. Not directly behind me, but a few seats down. I turned to my GF, with a look of devastation. I could not believe it. When you go see a movie called "Zack and Miri Make A PORNO" you doubt that you would have to worry about the older demographic. I don't know what these three older ladies were thinking. Maybe they were the founding sisters of Pornography or they thought they were seeing "Cocoon 3." I don't know and I was pissed off!

They sit in their seats, the movie begins, and there is non-stop chitter chatter. If you are not aware, this movie is probably the most foul-mouthed film that I've seen in a long time. I think I counted a total of 100 instances they used the words "Cock" and "Pussy" in the first five minutes. I tried my best to block out the laughing buffoons and the elderly mumblings, but it was way too much for my ADD to handle. Finally about a half hour into the movie and the one thousand mention of the word "anal" the elderly trio got up and walked out. Thank the Jewish Lord for that one! Whew! Now all I had to do was put up with the laughing buffoons. The movie was fair, it got a little too slow for me. But I would recommend maybe seeing it when it comes out on DVD, because some of the dialogue is pretty good. Seth Rogen pulls off his same old shtick and Craig Robinson from "The Office" has some good lines. But what's the deal with Elizabeth Banks? Not only is she in the movie I was watching, but also two previews as well. I mean is she taking over Hollywood or something? Producers and casting directors.... Give it a rest with the Elizabeth Bank overkill. I beg you!

I apologize for the Elizabeth Banks rant. It was something I needed to get off my chest. In conclusion, I realize there is no way to stop idiots, laughing buffoons, hey look at me cell phone guy, or the elderly commentators. But one thing we can stop, is for people to be informed about the movie before they decide to go see it. All it takes is a simple phone call to your grandmother/grandfather, or informing a random elderly person walking down the street and letting them know that "Zack and Miri Make A Porno" is not a good movie for them to see. Little by little, with every body's help, we can make a difference. We can change.

I'm Out!

The 5K, Cosby Kid, Fire Hydrant Race

This past weekend I had the pleasure of participating in my first ever 5K race. I know some of you may say, "What's the big deal about a 5K?" "Try doing a 10K or a half marathon, then write a friggin blog." You would be surprised to find out that the 5K race is a huge milestone for me. I would love to lie to you and tell you I'm this miraculous individual who made an unthinkable recovery after breaking both legs and was told by doctors that I would never be able to walk again. My situation was something of far more importance. I was a fat kid my friends.

I remember in gym class when we had to do the atrocious annual mile run. It was the day we all dreaded on the calendar, the day we tried to call in sick, or the day we wanted to drop out of school. But for some reason it always seemed impossible to avoid it. No matter what we did to run away from it, the mile run would catch us. Given my physical limitations, the run was never an easy feat for me. It involved a lot of Fatty McGee wheezing, walking, panting, and a facial expression that I had eaten too many prunes. Nevertheless, I knew one day I would be able to conquer the mile run with great ease.

Cut to today, I've been running consistently since my Junior year of college. My jogging consists of nothing too intense, two miles 3-4 times a week. I never felt the need to add any more kilometers to the work-out. In the last month or so, I've been stretching my runs to about 3 miles, with the aide of my lovely, vivacious, marathon runner GF. So it was now time to test my training and endurance. My GF and I, were going to be in Cleveland for a wedding and conveniently there was a 5K race the same weekend. So we signed up, along with her popz and her bro. The race started at 9am. I wasn't necessarily nervous by any means, but I was curious as to how I was going to perform.

I don't mean to make any of you nauseous, so I apologize beforehand. (I seem to write this in all my entries.) But I did not have my routine bathroom experience that morning, if you catch my drift. In other words, I did not drop the Cosby kids off at the pool. And I'm used to dropping Vanessa, Denise, Theo, and sometimes even Rudy during my morning routine. We get to the facility where the run was starting at. And suddenly I felt some small eruptions in the stomach area. I didn't know if it was nerves, or if I really had to use the restroom. We checked in and the eruptions were not getting any better. I thought about just waiting till after the run, but at the same time I didn't want to have to stop during the middle of the race and not be able to finish it. The other problem was that the race was going to start in the next few minutes. So I couldn't risk the race starting and then here I am bursting out of the bathroom with my pants around my ankles, yelling "Wait! Wait for me!", and tripping over myself. I quickly made the executive decision to just use the restroom now and try and be as quick as possible. Mission accomplished! The Cosby Kids were dropped off at the pool, Theo did a cannonball, and we were ready to roll!

It's time for the race to start. I line up with the other runners, who are mostly middle-aged men and women. A handful of younger people and some elderly people. The gun goes off and here we go! My GF and have nice pace going. We're not going too fast, but not too slow. Her popz takes off and gets way ahead of us. (Apparently he runs races often and fast) A few minutes into the race, her bro has a little trouble keeping us with us. I know the nice thing to do is to stay with him, but this was not a war. It was a race, where you could leave men behind. I look about 100 feet ahead of us and see these two short, stocky, fire hydrant shaped women in front of us. They look like they are running pretty slow, but they are a pretty big distance in front of us. I turned to my GF and said to her, "We gotta pass them." We did not do it right away, our plan was to pace ourselves. I wasn't worried about not being able to finish the race or something like that, but at the same time I didn't want to burn myself out too early. We hit the 1st mile checkpoint and the two fire hydrants are still in front of us chugging along. They appear to be experienced and they knew how to pace themselves. But I still wasn't going to let them beat me.

We hit the 2nd mile and they're still ahead of us. I turned to my GF and gave a look like, "Let's Do It." We turned on the accelerators and headed toward the two female fire hydrants. They didn't even see it coming. They also probably didn't give a crap about us at the same time. Regardless, we passed them and it felt good. If the Cosby kids were still with me, I don't think I would've been able to pass them. We hit the 3rd mile check-point, I'm a little winded, but I know this is the time to turn it on even more. So I run the fastest that I could at that moment to the finish line. Even though I felt like I was running fast, I'm sure in reality I was going as fast as an elderly person on an electric scooter. Waiting at the finish line was my GF's popz, who had finished the race at very impressive 27 minute time. I finished at 30:30, with GF a few steps behind. The female fire hydrants finished a few minutes later. Mission accomplished.

I'm fully aware that my time was not that great. But to be a stocky kid growing up, struggling with the gym class mile run, participating in my first race, passing the fire hydrant runners... I was pleased with the performance. To make it even better, they had munchkin donuts and some water after the race. Which made the race even that more of importance to me. What can I say? I'm a simple man, with simple desires.

I'm Out!

The Tricky Electronic Voting Machine

On Tuesday, November 4th, 2008, along with many millions of American citizens, I voted. Because I have moved cross country twice in the last year or so, I voted at a library in the southwest suburbs. Given the major celebrity that I am, I unfortunately cannot give you the address of my location. But if you are a curious young boy of about 7, maybe we can work something out. Big Brother settle down, I'm only kidding.

So I waddle over to the line and it's a decent turn-out. There were probably about 8 or 9 people waiting in front of me. The majority of the people were in the 50-70 age range. Which I fit perfectly in, given that I feel like a 70-year-old man trapped in a 27-year-old body. There were about 5 judges sitting down behind a table, with a box of dunkin donuts on top of it. Because I did not have any breakfast my fat kid instincts were kicking in like no other. Then out of nowhere, some man in a trench coat, almost God-like, drops off a box of variety donut holes from some local bakery. Some of the donut holes evcn had rainbow sprinkles on it! If you know anything about me, it's that I get hard on for rainbow sprinkles. Right at that moment, I thought," I must be a judge in 20012!"

I'm finally second in line and almost ready to vote. There is a gentleman, I suspect in his later 50's in front of me. One of the judges, all of the sudden makes it known, that there is a machine available to use. She says, "It's an electronic machine. It takes a little longer, but its easy to use." The gentleman does not answer, presumably because he wanted to fill out his ballot the traditional way. Bastard! So did I! I don't blame him, but he didn't have to leave me hanging out to dry. So now all eyes on me. Given that, I was representing the youth of America at this voting destination and for the sake of the long line, I loudly proclaimed, "I'll do it." I know people were thinking in their heads, "Wow look at how brave and courage this young man is." Or others may have of thought, "Why does he keep staring at those rainbow sprinkled donut holes?"

I then sat down face to face with my electronic machine. I correctly fed my ballot into machine. So far so good. The ballot was now electronically displayed on the screen and all I had to do was touch screen my votes. Seem easy right? One would think so. I accurately place my finger on the circle next to Obama/Biden (I would've voted for Alf, but his name was not on the ballot). And for some reason this electronic machine, filled in the circle next to McCain/Palin. I mean don't get me wrong, my dad is a Maverick and my mother is a Hockey Mom, and I once dated a Plumber named Joe... Regardless, that's not who I wanted to vote for! I touched the Obama/Biden circle again and it worked. Whew! Now came for the next 20 selections. The touch screen got progressively worse. I would touch the circle of who I wanted to vote for and nothing would happen. I would touch it five, six times and would get nothing. It was almost like the ATM machines, when you are trying withdrawal money. And you want to withdraw $40 and the somehow the machine thinks you hit $20. That error was occurring non-stop! It got to the point with some of the judges, where if the machine selected a different one than I had selected, I just moved on and didn't fix the error. I just wanted to get the heck away from this machine! I turn around and noticed an old lady in a wheel chair behind me. She was waiting to use the same demonic machine, because it was the only voting booth that had a chair. I tried to give her this look, like "Go away from here. Stay away! Far away! Kind of like how you see in those horror movies, where the killer is around, but the other person can't say out loud that it's around. But the little old booger wouldn't budge. I thought our elderly brainwaves would mesh and she would be able to decipher what I was thinking. But there was no luck. She was determined to sit in that chair and vote.

I finally finished up the voting, frustrated and pissed off as hell. What was suppose to be a liberating, fun voting experience turned out to be quite the opposite. All because of this stinkin', demented, voting machine! I thought about grabbing one of the scrumptious donut holes as an FU to the judges for making me use the machine. Fortunately my conscious got the best of me and told me otherwise.

Mysterious old lady in the wheelchair, hopefully you are reading this on your 1994 IBM computer with the AOL dial-up connection. And you accept my sincere apology for not making you aware of the malfunctions of the machine. God knows, you are probably still at the voting station, touching that screen with no luck. Hopefully our paths will cross again in 2012 and we will protest the end of the electronic voting machine.

I'm Out!

Beverly Hills Chihuahua, Segways, and Gary Busey

-May I just say, that there is no better feature on a computer than the "system restore" option. My God, I can't tell you how many times it has saved me. I love you system restore, I really do. FYI I did not get my last virus from pornographic sites.

-I don't understand why people are so lazy. When you are about to get on the L train, don't go on the first cart you see. That is going to be the most congested area of the train. Always walk down a few carts and then enter the train. Unless you are handicapped, in fear of missing the train, or, want to grind against a homeless guy that smells like vomit... Then yes, enter the train right away and have a hoot!

-To demonstrate my confusion on the amount of undecided voters out there, I will reference a quote from Humorist, David Sedaris on this issue. " To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. “Can I interest you in the chicken?” she asks. “Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?”

-Speaking of the election and society. (Segway) I have so much faith that the American public will make the most educated and intelligent decision on this upcoming election. Given that "Beverly Hills Chihuahua" has grossed over $70 million dollars and was #1 in the box office its 1st two weeks. God help us.

-Speaking of Segways, (Another great segway) I actually did the Segway Chicago Tour. Let me just say, despite freezing my toochis off, I had a great time. And more importantly, I proved to the world that special and slow people can ride a segway without harming themselves or other people. In other words, I'm the Jackie Robinson of segways.

-I watched the first episode of Celebrity Rehab 2. (Yes, I am unemployed at the moment) And one of the participants or "mentors" on the show is Gary Busey. He could honestly be the most entertaining individual in the business right now. If studio executives, are reading this, which I know they are, he must be casted on every single television program and film right this minute.

-Speaking of reality shows, (Don't worry I won't give a segway shout-out) What the hell is the deal with that douchey chef Rocco? That guy is on every single television program. Who the hell is he and why is he on the my television screen? The only way he should be allowed on TV, is if he wrestles Gary Busey in a steel cage match. Now we're talking!

-Is it just me or has "The Office" been lackluster so far this season? It seems like they are going more for the emotion than comedy. But I will say a new show that I have enjoyed is "Worst Week" on CBS. My only question for that show is, couldn't they of found a better actor?

-I was enjoying Pink's new song "So What" until every single radio station started playing this song 100 times a day. Thank you radio, for killing another song. This is reminiscent of what happened to Nickleback's "Photograph" song.

-I can't believe I picked up QB Kyle Orton for my fantasy team. Who the heck would of thunk it?
-The best Halloween costume you can buy this year is ...



P.S. The doggie shirt does not come with it.

I'm Out!