Broccoli, Inner Fat Kids, and MacGruber

So a bunch of people and myself went out to dinner at this Chinese restaurant to say goodbye to a friend that is moving back home.(Wuss... Cough... Cough...)  I didn't know most of the people there too well because they were mostly friends of my buddy who was leaving.  I did my best to be affable and engage in conversations, but I was a little off as usual.  On the bright side the food was awfully scrumptious, so I was inhaling it and chowing down like no other.  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that one of the guy's girlfriend was not eating the fried rice that she ordered.  My nosy self was curious as to why she wasn't really eating at all, but didn't feel it was my business to ask.  Fortunately, somebody else at the table asked and her response was that she is upset because she thought there would be more broccoli in the fried rice.  Hmmm.... I found that response a bit peculiar because I could see if she hated the dish because there was too much of an ingredient, but to not eat it because it was lacking broccoli made very little sense to me.  Was she lying?  Is she truly obsessed with broccoli?  Why does my urine dribble when I pee?                           

  (This is the most amusing pic I could find with broccoli)

After dinner we headed over to this crepes joint because they apparently had cheap drinks there.  Some of the people ordered crepes, while myself and the inner fat kid watched on with extreme jealously.  The Broccoli girlfriend seemed to be enjoying her whip cream/chocolate crepe...  Given that I really wasn't bringing much to the table conversation wise, I decided to make what we call in the business, a "Callback" joke.  (Awkward definition: A callback, in terms of comedy, is a joke which refers to one previously told in the set. The second joke is often presented in a different context than the one which was used in the initial joke.)   I debated for a second in my head if I should make the joke, but given my desperation to involve myself I decided to go for it.  So I said to the Broccoli girlfriend as she was eating the crepe, "So do you have some broccoli in there?"  Even though the joke wasn't that good, everybody at the table erupted in laughter.  Feeling good about myself and my witty one-liner, I turned to the Broccoli girlfriend to find out that she was giving me this scathing stare.  And it wasn't just a mean look and then she turned away.  She was looking at me like she wanted to chop my head off and run over it with her car a hundred times.  To be honest, I don't even think she was blinking.  Instead of engaging her in a staring contest, I began to feel extremely uncomfortable.  I didn't know what to do, so I asked her if she was mad at me.  Given that she wouldn't really answer, I tried my best to apologize if I offended her and explained repeatedly that I am truly a nice, harmless, individual.  I unfortunately wasn't really getting anywhere because for the rest of the night, given that she would not say a word to me.  In hindsight, I realize it wasn't appropriate of me to offend somebody or make them feel uncomfortable.  Although, if I had the choice again to make seven people laugh or piss off somebody that I will most likely never see again... I'm going with the call-back joke. 

Chicken McNuggets...

-You know you're officially losing it, when you wake up on a Sunday morning and you can't find your keys.  So you rummage frantically throughout your apartment... Until you locate your keys outside of your front door, hanging out of your door knob.  I seriously might as well wear a sign that says, "Please take everything you want and have your way with me." 

-I've gone to quite a few art festivals lately because I'm attempting to decorate my apartment.  And I've been seeing a recurring theme at all of these art festivals.   Every tent/booth I walk by, the person in charge of it is sitting in a chair and stuffing their face with a plate of food.  And they are always eating gross and quickly,  I don't know if eating like a starving Barbarian is a prerequisite to run a booth at an Art Festival, but it's not really gonna motivate me to drop a few hundos on a painting.  Btw, how does somebody get the art festival booth job?  That's something I would be awfully good at and qualified for.  
            
-Speaking of people eating food obnoxiously, I was at work the other day...  And they were serving ice cream at 3pm for some fundraiser.  So pretty much the whole day, I was staring at the clock and having a mental image of a countdown with Dick Clark in my head.  Then I get an e-mail around one o'clock about a meeting that was going to take place at...  Can you guess what time? 3pm of course.  After almost having a breakdown/hissy fit, I took a deep breaths and did my best to compose myself.  Given, that I've only been at this job for a few weeks, the smart thing to do would be to forget about the ice cream and just go to the meeting.  But as usual, Robert, my inner fat kid, took over the situation and made me get the ice cream first and bring it into the meeting.  Even though I was the only person eating the ice cream in the meeting and I got numerous weird looks, it was all worth it.  They even had rainbow sprinkles too!  (Can somebody explain why I still like rainbow sprinkles?)

-Even though the movie bombed, "MacGruber" was one of the funniest films I've seen in years.  It's not for everybody, but definitely for people with a random sense of a humor.  Otherwise, go see "Marmaduke"!    

-So I watched the MTV Movie awards last night...

Highlights: Tom Cruise dancing number, Katy Perry's outfit, Ken Jeong's emotional acceptance speech, and Sandra Bullock's winning the lifetime achievement award.

Lows:  Aziz Ansari's monologue, facing the fact that Will Smith's son is the next Karate Kid, and anytime Twilight won.  I think I rather have a staring contest with the broccoli girlfriend than listen to Kristen Stewart speak.

-In other news... A woman named Debrahlee Lorenzana has filed a lawsuit against Citigroup because she claims she was fired because she is too good looking.  This makes me feel better because now I understand why I was unemployed for six months. 

(It sure is tough being so good looking)








I'm Out!

British Accents, Peanut Butter, and Lebron James

A friend that I met here in LA had asked me to read a part in his staged reading for his TV pilot. I was surprised that he would ask a person such as myself, given that I have the tendency to be a stammering, mumbling, fumbling idiot. To add on to my bewilderment, the part that he wanted me to read was for one of the leads. I wanted to grab my friend, shake him, and yell "Do you have any idea what you are getting yourself into?" Wisely, I decided against doing that and instead hid my doubts and insecurities. The day of the staged reading I looked over the script, just as any diligent, professional actor would do to get into character. The lines didn't seem too difficult, given that the character I was playing was the quasi-facetious older brother. Right as I felt comfortable, I saw that I had to sing/rap to the song "Suga Suga" by the artist Baby Bash. I thought to myself, you gotta be kidding me? Rapping? If you don't recognize this song from the title, believe me you've heard it. I looked up the video on YouTube(after a pit-stop at YouPorn) and did my darnedest to get the hook down. I figured if I purposely sang bad, then people would laugh with me rather then at me. I remember learning that from a "Family Matters" episode with Steve Urkel. (Awkward Fun Fact: I dressed up as Steve Urkel in 4th grade for Halloween. The costume was great, except for being tall, skinny, and black I was short, portly, and Jewish).
     (Can you tell which one is the real Urkel?)

Anyway, now that I got the rap song out of the way it was now time to continue with the script. Towards the end of the script was a line that read "Crank this shit up!". Now, normally this would appear to be a simple line to read. The twist is that in parentheticals it said to say the line in a British accent. Back in the day I could do a British accent with no problem. I don't mean to brag, but in 5th grade I was MAN #2 in OLIVER TWIST. Even though I had about two lines, the accent came to me with great ease and I had an immense about of confidence performing it. I'm not sure what has happened in the last 18 years, but I have completely lost the ability to do the accent. Before the staged reading we rehearsed the script with the rest of the cast. When it came to the part of the British accent, I was hoping I could just read the line without the accent and nobody would notice. That plan backfired when my friend was like, "Dude where's the accent?" I was like, "Do I really have to do it? I'm horrible at it." He replied, "You gotta do it. It's important." I didn't want to let him down so I unfortunately knew I had to give it a shot.

So the audience is seated and the staged reading begins and all I can friggin think about is that damn British accent. I can't get it out of my mind. As each page of the script goes by, I'm thinking I'm closer and closer to humiliating myself. It kind of had an affect on my other lines and made me stumble on some of them. I probably would have stumbled regardless, but let's blame it on that. My rap solo of "Suga Suga" did not go as horrible as I expected. I actually got a few laughs out of it, so I was hoping that would give me some momentum for the British accent. We hit pg. 32 and it's time to deliver the goods folks. It felt I was up to the plate in the bottom of the 9th with 3 balls, 2 strikes. and 2 outs. I got my game face on and tried to deliver the best British accent somebody could deliver. And what came out of my mouth, is something that is extremely difficult to describe. The best way to put it, is that my accent sounded like Corky from "Life Goes On" being lit on fire. After I did the accent, there were a few moments of awkward silence, since the audience had no idea I was attempting a British the accent. But the other cast members knew what I was trying to do and they all started laughing uncontrollably. The laughing was definitely not with me, but at me and well deserved I must say. I did feel bad for my friend because I butchered his script, but at least I did warn him of my retarded limitations. After this incident, I think it's time I hung up acting shoes and my Steve Urkel Halloween costume and stick to the writing. Although, that might need to be hung up too.

I know what you've been craving for the last few months... The McNuggets!!!

-I know this is a little old, but I have to comment on the Sandra Bullock divorce from Jesse James. Sandra, I'm sorry to hear that Mr. James cheated on you, but what the hell did you expect? The guy has a kid with a Porn Star? I don't know what your criteria is for characteristics you look for in a husband, but I would think having a kid with a porn star would be near the bottom of that list. And stop with this whole bad boy dating image thing. Maybe you could have done that during the "Speed" days, but you're 45 years old now. How about meeting a nice Jewish boy on JDATE or something?  I would just maybe leave out the whole adopting the African baby thing on the profile, to improve your chances.  Maybe wait to the fourth or fifth date for that revelation.

-The other day I came into work and there was this strong smell of Peanut Butter on me. I figured it must have been because I had eaten peanut butter/jelly toast for breakfast. But I still felt that the smell was a bit more pungent than usual. An hour or two later, I waddle into the bathroom and look in the mirror... And what I see is a huge glob of peanut butter on my chin. Two questions I immediately had for myself... 1) How did I not feel the peanut butter on my chin? 2) How many people saw this and did not tell me?

-If I had to choose the biggest scumbag on the planet right now, I might have to choose Ben Roethlisberger. Last year the dude gets charged with sexual assault with a Lake Tahoe Hotel Staff member, but was somehow able to get the charges dropped. In other words, the woman was paid off. Then, this past month he gets charged for sexual assault again with some college girl at a Georgia Bar. Dude, what's your deal? How many bullets do you think you can dodge? You have the money to be with any woman you want, so why would you have to resort to this? All I know, is that there no chance in hell that I will be drafting Ben Roethlisberger in the upcoming Fantasy Football draft. So take that you despicable piece of crap!

-I don't know if you caught the SNL that Betty White hosted, but it was one of the best episodes I've seen in years. The last time I could feel that much energy was when Jim Carrey hosted over ten years ago. Why can't it be like that every week?

-What a disappointing playoff loss for Lebron and the Cavs. It's almost as if they just gave up and threw in the towel.  I know there are a lot of rumors about Lebron coming to the Bulls(my favorite sports team). But I gotta admit, I would feel guilty if Lebron came to Chicago.  I just know how devastating it would be to the city of Cleveland if he left. Sorry Drew Carey, but all your "Cleveland Rocks" songs would not make up for his absence.  My prediction... Lebron gets courted by JayZ and the new Russian billionaire owner and goes to the New Jersey Nets.

-Even though I've given up on the show "Lost" because I'm lost when I watch it. (Get it? I used the same word twice.) How pathetic is it that the show's intro still spooks me out even though I've seen it a hundred times and know it that it's coming? All I can say, is that my Spiderman night light has been the best purchase I've made in years.

 (I think I just wet myself)



I'm Out!

Happy Easter!

On Easter, a friend, his roommate, and myself decided to go hiking since there really wasn't anything else for three Jewish young men to do.  My friend's roommate, Oleg, had gone hiking in the Malibu Mountains and suggested we go back there.  He did warn us that parts of the trail get a little difficult, but nothing that we couldn't handle.  I figured that since I've been working out a decent amount lately, I would be able to battle through any rough spots. Boy, was I friggin wrong!  I felt like I was Tom Cruise in "Mission Impossible 2", except without the good looks, athleticism, and coordination.  Other than that it was impossible to tell us apart.  There were stretches of the trail where I hardly had anything to grab or step onto.  At times, I was grabbing onto some flimsy tree branch and stepping onto a rock the size of a Chicken McNugget. (Mmmmmmm.... Chicken McNuggets.....)  So we get up to the second waterfall, which truly is a pretty neat view to see.  Apparently, Oleg had gone up to the third waterfall, but my friend and I felt we had done enough. I felt all my bruises, scrapes, and bug bites were worth the trouble.  Plus, it was going to be enough of a chore to get downhill.

As we started our journey downhill, we encountered an Orthodox Jewish, British guy, probably in his late 20's/early 30's.  I never got his name, but for the sake of the story, let's call him Shlomo.  Shlomo appeared a bit nervous and did not feel like climbing up any further.  So he decided to climb down as well.  With Shlomo was an older man, who I assumed to be his father, but the guy literally did not say one word.  Shlomo and his mute dad were in front of us, so we were kind of following them by default.  I look ahead of us and I see Shlomo's dad going down some sort of tunnel.  He looked like the Gopher from Caddyshack burrowing into the ground.  It was a very peculiar sight, if I must say.  And after that it was if Shlomo's mute dad had vanished.  So here we were, left with babysitting Shlomo.  At first I thought it was endearing that this nice British Orthodox guy was nervous, but then it frankly was just getting annoying.  He was just going so slow and freaking out over every little thing.  I was bad enough at this hiking thing, but he made me look like a pro out there.  Since Oleg was the most experienced and talented out of everybody, I suggested that maybe he should lead us downhill.

                                                                   Meet Shlomo

Going downhill was not only difficult because of Shlomo’s antics, but because of how steep this cliff was.  The only way to climb down was to literally sit on your ass and scoot down.  Kind of like how a dog rubs his butt on the carpet.  I remember the first time I saw our family dog do that, it freaked me out because it looked like “The Exorcist” was coming towards me.   Anyway, as we were scooting down it kind of occurred to me that there had to be a better route.  But my friend and Oleg assured me that this was the only way to get down.  Plus, I really had no idea where the hell I was, so I wasn’t going to argue.  I look down and see that Oleg is near the bottom of the hill.  I think to myself, “Damn that Oleg is good!”  About a few seconds later, I look down and see Oleg running out of control by the waterfall.  I was hoping that one of the people standing around would be able to stop him.  But I think because he was running so fast, nobody really could without the risk of them getting hurt too.  Oleg then trips, falls on his back into this mud creek, and hits his head.  His face is covered with mud and blood and he is lying on the ground in severe pain.  I was in complete shock.  I turn to look at my friend with a look of, “Did that really just happen?”  Fortunately there were people and some families down there, so they were able to rush to Oleg’s aide.  There wasn’t much by buddy and I could do, since we still had half of this friggin cliff to climb down.

I probably could have easily panicked at this point, but there really wasn’t any room to with Shlomo around.  Instead of worrying about how Oleg was doing, Shlomo started to freak out and say “You guys are going to help me get down right?  I need your help!  I can’t do this by myself!”  I told Shlomo, first I have to see if I can climb down myself before I can help you.  I hate to say it, but Shlomo was not really helping the nervous, wimpy, Jewish stereotype here.  My friend quickly gets down, to check on Oleg.  He also slipped on his way down too, but was able to prevent himself from falling.  I then scoot my ass down and finally reach pavement.  It was evident that Oleg was in a lot of pain, so we weren't sure if he had broken anything or not.  It was hard for him to talk because he got the wind knocked out of him.  Shlomo still hadn’t moved since Oleg’s fall and is crying like a baby.  So my buddy had to climb back up and help him get down.  I have absolutely no idea where Shlomo’s mute dad is at this point.  I have a feeling that Shlomo’s dad became a mute from his son’s constant whining and crying.  I walk over to Oleg and there is an older gentleman and two younger girls around my age, helping Oleg out.  As much as I do want to help, I’m not really knowledgeable as far as what to do in these type of chaotic situations.  Even though I had pretty much lost my faith in society many years ago, it was refreshing to see how many people were helping out.

My friend finally helped Shlomo down the cliff and Shlomo just leaves instead of seeing how Oleg is doing.  And just so you know, about six feet to the right of the disastrous cliff we came down, was another path that was a hundred times easier.  People were pretty much walking down this path.  I thought to myself, “Are you kidding me?”  We went through all of this for nothing?  I have a feeling had we not bumped into Shlomo, all of this would’ve been avoided and realized the other path to get down.  There’s some more drama to the story, but I think I’ve basically have written enough for one blog.  In a nutshell, there was some debate amongst the people if we should call for an ambulance or wait and see if we could walk Oleg to the car ourselves.  We ended doing a combination of both.  We walked/carried Oleg about three quarters of the way back to the parking lot and then some firemen came to put him in an ambulance.  I’m proud to say that Oleg is okay.  He fortunately did not break anything, but instead had some massive bruises and maybe fractured a rib.  This happened on Sunday and the tough son of gun was back to work by Thursday.  To make this Easter holiday even stranger, than it already was… While we were waiting in the emergency room, everything started shaking and then I quickly realized that this must be an earthquake.  It was a strange one in that it felt like we were on a boat that would not stop swaying.  From what I heard, it was the longest earthquake that Los Angeles has had in the past ten years ago.(I don’t have evidence to back up this data, but a friend told me this.)  In summary, if you ever plan on going hiking, I would maybe stay away from the Malibu mountains and in addition to any friendly, nerdy, British, Jewish Orthodox, young males.

I’m Out!          

Jimmy Kimmel Live

I recently had the pleasure of attending a live taping of “Jimmy Kimmel Live”. I’ve been a huge fan of Jimmy Kimmel and the show for a while, so I was looking forward to the experience. I had been to see Letterman twice, while I spent a summer in New York many years ago. I know some people just want to see a live show once and never do it again. But I’m what you call a bit of a dork, and I enjoy seeing all the stuff that happens behind the scenes. So my friend and I went on a Friday evening because that was the most convenient day for us to go on. It was probably not the most masculine of shows to see, given that the guests were Josh Duhamel and John Mayer. So order to fit in with the crowd, I brought a pair of my panties to throw at the studly men. I was sad to give them up because it was my only pair that did not have any skid mark remnants in it, but at least it was for a good cause.

As you walk in to the studio, the PA’s on the show direct you where to sit. The studio is a lot smaller than it looks on TV. There are two rows right in front of the stage and then behind the cameras are another 10-12 rows. It really made no sense as to how the PA’s decide where you sit. From my best awkward analysis, it seemed like the good looking people were sat in the front, while the “Others” were placed towards the back. My analysis was given more credibility, when these two heavier-set gals that were standing in front of us were seated in the last row in the back. Given that my friend and myself won’t be on the cover on Men’s Health anytime soon, I assumed the PA was going to sit us right next to the hefters in the back. Surprisingly, he sat us in the first row right behind the cameras. I guess he figured our butterfaces would be blocked by the cameras. As I was looking at the PA, I thought to myself, "God, that I guy looks familiar." Where the hell do I know him from? Then it occurred to me that he was on one of the seasons of “Punked”. I then asked him if he was on the show and he gave me a shocked look that I actually recognized him. It made me wonder how in the hell is a guy from “Punked” working as a PA? I guess it just demonstrates how hard this business is and why I have started working as a stripper.

Ladies and some gentleman, I understand that Josh Duhamel is easy on the eyes, but boy he can put you to sleep when he talks. He was telling some story that was absolutely making no sense and actually caused people in the audience to start laughing. The highlight of the show was actually the second guest. It was some midget named Shorty Rossi and he was friggin hilarious. Apparently this guy has his own reality show called “Pit Boss” where he helps rescue pit bulls in dangerous neighborhoods and gets in fights with thugs. It might be a wise decision for Shorty to expand his business and rescue boring celebrities before they embarrass themselves on live television. 

(Watch out Duhamel! Shorty and his posse are coming.)

                  

Besides waiting in line, the most annoying thing about a live talk show has to be the Warm-Up guy. By the way, who the hell would want to be the warm-up guy? It’s almost like a profession for a rebound guy after a break-up. You just want to get him out of the way, so you can move on to something better. After listening to him tell jokes for 20 minutes you would find in a laffy taffy wrapper, I wanted to bang my head against the wall. Apparently this rebound guy has 8 lives or something because he would not go away. During the show he constantly gestures for you to laugh and clap. For a person such as myself that gets distracted when they see a dust of air, it takes away from the enjoyment. I must say though that Jimmy Kimmel is amazingly talented and it seems like he treats his staff well because they all seem extremely happy. My only suggestion is to maybe switch the audience PA dude from “Punked” with the warm-up guy.

Other McNuggets…

-I used to think TV caused me to waste the most of time out of my day, but I’m beginning to think Facebook has taken first place. I don’t know what my deal is, maybe it’s because I’m a bit nosey, but I could seriously look at pictures for 24 hours/7 days a week. I just sit there like zombie, slouched in my chair, with my dropped open, and look at picture after picture. By the 20th picture, my brain usually wakes up and asks me, “Hey schmucko, what the hell are you doing?” To make it even more ridiculous I’m usually looking at pictures of somebody I don’t even know. It’s like a friend of a friend or something like that, which probably makes me some kind of stalker. So be careful my fellow Facebookers… You might not be aware, but this nosey schmuko could be looking at your pictures at this very moment. Watch out!

-I was having dinner with a friend recently and besides ripping my blog(he thinks I ramble on too much, which is true and I’m working on it) he pulled a very crafty move on me. After we got our food, he pulled the old, “Hey do you want to trade half and half?” This is the not the first time he has pulled the switch-a-rue on me. I remember him doing it before when I ordered a scrumptious turkey meatloaf sandwich and he ordered some chicken curry sandwich. I remember agreeing to the trade and regretting it for the whole week after that. So this was my time to redeem myself and especially the other half of the turkey meatloaf sandwich that I abandoned. I did not want to switch this time because I was perfectly content with my blackened chicken sandwich and wasn’t really in the burger mood. I quickly tried to think of an excuse to not trade, but I couldn’t come up with anything. So I caved in and switched sandwiches with him. In hindsight, I should’ve said, “Sorry I can’t eat your burger because it causes me to ramble on my blog too much.”

-I was on the Paramount lot recently and as I was driving up I saw the two kids from “Glee”. I’m not an avid watcher of the show, but it was the tall guy and the dark haired girl. According to IMDB, their character names on the show are Finn and Rachel. From gawking at them, I got the idea that they are probably dating or at least hooking up. Plus, I remember hearing about them possibly being together in the tabloids. I’m not sure if Finn is aware, but I have a history of ruining celebrity couple relationships. If you go back in the awkward vaults, you can find out how I was the reason for the Rihanna/Chris Brown break-up. You see what happens here is that once the celebrity female sees me… She immediately becomes extremely attracted and infatuated with me to the point where it ruins her current relationship. To prove my point even further, I heard a few days ago that the Finn dude is canoodling(I really hate that word) with Taylor Swift. Hmmmm... I find it awfully suspicious that he’s on the market so soon. I don’t know, but I’m just sayin’….

(Sorry buddy, but I hoped you enjoyed your time with her)

-I gotta say I was kind of rooting for Peyton Manning to win the Super Bowl. I know he already has a ring, but it’s like how can you not like the guy? He is talented, works his ass off, and is not one of those Brett Favres who needs all the constant attention and recognition. But I have to give credit to the Saints. They were the better team yesterday. Obviously, the coach’s gutsy call for the onside kick changed the whole momentum of the game. But a guy that nobody is talking about and should get more attention, is the Saints kicker. In a season where field goal kicking has been extremely inconsistent, this dude kicked three fields of 40 plus yards with perfect accuracy. I know it sounds a bit out there, but he gets my vote for the MVP.

I’m Out!

To Catch an Awkward Predator

The other night, I had nothing going on. Which is shocking, given there is usually a waiting list of people waiting to hang out with me. Anyway, my friend asks me if I would want to go to this girl’s place with him. From what he told me, he didn’t really have any interest in her, but she would constantly text him. I guess the girl asked to him to bring a friend, since she was hanging out with another girl. My friend warned me that these girls were not attractive. I said I didn’t really care because… A) Who am I to judge? B) I was more going for the material than anything else. C) These girls were 21 and a little too young for my taste. D) All the above and I’m desperate as hell. If you’re scoring at home, D is the correct answer. We drive out to this girl’s place. It was about a half hour drive. My friend really knew nothing about where she lived. We get there and apparently she lives is this gated community. And I’ve never really driven through a gated community before. It was like something you saw out of a movie. So we had to give our name to the security guy. Even though the security guard stared me down for a good two minutes, he eventually let us in. We drove past some houses and they were absolutely enormous. I was getting more excited about this girl’s house, than anything else. We pull up and it’s a gorgeous house. If anything, I was ready to move in. It was evident, that she was probably living at home with her family. So then that made me wonder if her parents were home.

We walk up to the door and the girl lets us in. She looked a bit tired and maybe a little under the weather. So it wasn’t the most generous vibe walking in. Although, I usually never get generous vibes wherever I go, so maybe it’s me. Anyway, I was carrying a six pack of Bud Light. Actually, it was a four pack since I had drank two of them in the car. I know what you’re thinking, “What a generous house warming present, numb-nuts”. As I walk in I could hear a lot of giggling and chitter-chatter. I thought it was just going to be another girl there, but it sounded like there were definitely more people of both sexes. She leads us to the family room. And as I walk in, I pretty much just freeze. There are two girls and two guys sitting on the couch. The girls look like they are underneath blankets and wearing their pajamas. There is a plate of brownies on the table and they’re drinking milk. One of the girls was painting the boys arm. I could not believe my eyes. What the hell was this? A Junior High pajama party? This was totally different than what my friend had explained to me over the phone. Which was… me, my friend, and two girls hanging out and drinking. As I walk in the four younger people stare at me with their mouth dropped open. They were probably thinking, who the hell is the old weirdo carrying beer? And should we call the police? In order to try and alleviate the awkward silence, I politely offered a beer to anybody who was interested. But of course, nobody was interested since beer doesn’t really go with brownies, milk, and face painting. I felt so uncomfortable, I was seriously waiting for Chris Hanson from NBC’s “To Catch a Predator” to walk up behind me and start questioning me.

(Jonno, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?)

I sit down on the couch and I can already hear some snickering from the youngsters. I looked over at my friend and he was just as shocked and pissed off as I was. They were watching “40-Year-Old Virgin”, so at least they had decent taste and weren’t watching "High School Musical 3". (I wonder if they graduate). I tried to make conversation with the kids, but I wasn’t getting much of response. It felt like I was in pure hell. Where every minute felt like an hour. The only thing that was giving me any attention was the girl’s eight pound little dog, Kloe. I tried to get Kloe’s digits, but unfortunately she didn’t have a cell phone. Finally after maybe of 45 minutes of being there, my friend texted me and asked if I wanted to get the hell out of there. And I could not have flew off the couch any sooner. There were just too many things that didn’t make sense to me. Why would this girl invite my friend and tell him to bring a friend, if she was babysitting her younger brother, younger sister, and their friends? Another good question might have been, why didn’t my friend find out more information before making the trip out there? And my final question is, will Chris Hanson ever track me down?

Other McNuggets…

-Speaking of McNuggets…I waddled into this McDonalds in Burbank the other day. My plan was to get something quick to eat because I was going to a friends show. Given that there was a long wait in the drive thru line, I figured it would be wiser to go inside and order. I walk inside and walk up to the counter. The McDonalds employees appeared somewhat busy. So pretty much five minutes go by and they don’t even acknowledge my existence. I figured it wasn’t worth waiting for, so I just left. Cut to two hours later… I’m driving back home and I pass by the same McDonalds. So I’m pretty hungry at this point. I contemplate turning in, but I say what the hell and I give it one more shot. Again the drive-thru was pretty busy, so I go back inside. There were a few other customers waiting for their orders. So I walk up to the counter and give it a second try. The two or three McDonalds employees still ignore me. This time I wait another good five minutes and I get nothing! No one look or acknowledgement in my direction. I thought about yelling out loud and saying “HELLO!”, but for some reason the little bitch in me took over and I didn’t say a word. Instead, I kicked the door open and stormed out of there. Yeah that’s right, I totally showed them. But seriously, it was like I was living in a “Twilight Zone” episode and I was invisible or something. I mean how in the hell could this happen twice? I know it makes no sense how I did not speak up and say something. But really anything I do makes a little or no sense. I’m thinking because of this incident I’m going to have to rename my “Other McNuggets…” segment. Bastards!

-Given all the controversy surrounding Late night talks shows, I figure I must give my two cents. First of all, I have never been a fan of Jay Leno. I never understood how this man got his own talk show. I know he’s a decent stand-up, but he is not spontaneously funny and is a horrible interviewer. Especially when guys like Letterman and Jimmy Kimmel are friggin hilarious. Leno should just get the hint already and just give it up. He doesn’t need the money, he has no kids, and plus everybody hates him right now. I know Conan is making a crap load of money, so it’s hard to feel sorry for him. But I think it’s more than money with him and more about the principle. He’s wanted the Tonight Show gig forever and never really was given a fair chance. I also feel bad for all those people that work on the show and moved their families from NY to LA. The real person behind this mess and should be getting the blame, is Jeff Zucker, the president of NBC. That guy has single handedly brought NBC to the shitter and made it the laughing stock of television. When I was growing up, NBC always had the best shows and was like the Rolls Royce of the networks. Mr. Zucker, if you’re reading this… NBC is not the right spot for you and I know a job that is better suited for you. There is a McDonalds in Burbank that could really use your help.

-I don’t know what is, but lately I’ve seen numerous people picking food out of their teeth. I guess it would make more sense if it was happening at restaurants, but I’m seeing it wherever I go. Walking down the street, in my car, at the gym, bank, post office, whorehouse… You name it! I find picking food out of your teeth is extremely gross and nauseating. It should be treated equally as picking your nose. And why is everybody getting food stuck in their teeth? Is everybody on some kind of laffy taffy kick that I’m not aware of? Laffy taffy… (Insert Homer Simpson drooling noise)

-Why does every darn commercial these days, have to be the old lady from “Legion”. I know I touched on this from a previous blog, but it’s almost like she’s following me or something. And it always tricks me because the commercial starts off with the sweet and gentle old lady, before she goes off on her devilish transformation and spazzes out. It’s bad enough that they play this commercial three times a day, but I feel like it’s been going on for over a month now. I mean will damn movie come out already, so I can watch TV without covering my eyes!

(Your baby is gonna burn!)

-Speaking of TV, I have a new show that I recommend… “Men of a Certain Age”. I’ve never been a big Ray Romano fan, but this show has got me hooked. It’s kind of a dramedy, but with great characters and some really funny moments. I actually laughed out loud at the last episode, which I rarely do when I watch TV. I don’t know what it is, but I’m on this weird kick where I enjoy watching show/films where people have issues. Especially issues where a 28-year-old male, hangs out at a junior high sleepover or can’t order McDonalds two times in one night.

I’m Out!

Bruno & Me

So my roommate brought it to my attention that his ex-girlfriend's dog would be staying with us for a few days. I was cool with that given that I'm fairly comfortable with dogs. I kind of assumed the dog would be a smaller-medium sized dog, since our place isn't too big. So I had this image of myself cuddling and spooning some little cute muppetish terrier or something of that sort. I asked my roommate what type of dog it is and he told me it was a Doberman. I thought he might have been joking for a second there, but he wasn't. A Doberman? Are you kidding me? My only recollection of Doberman's are that they are large, mean, scary looking things that are usually used as guard dogs or the villains in animation movies. The dog's name by the way is Bruno. (No relation to the Sacha Baron Cohen character unfortunately) The ex-girlfriend drops Bruno off and of course he runs over to me. Even though the dog was a nice, sweet dog, it still took me a while to get used to him. I didn't want to act like a total puss, so I toughed it out and hid my true feelings.(Which consists of hiding under my bed, sobbing, and sucking my thumb) The first night went fine. Bruno seemed well trained and he slept with my roommate. (They did not go all the way, if you're curious.) So I'm thinking at this point, this isn't going to be so bad. The next morning, I get out bed and walked in the main room and Bruno is sitting in this chair staring at me. My roommate was at work, so I kind of forgot to realize it would just be me and Bruno staring at each other all day. I'm not gonna lie, a large 85 pound Doberman is not the most pleasant thing to see first thing in the morning.

(Good Morning Jonno!)

So I begin to eat my cereal and Bruno starts barking at me. I didn't know what to do, since he wasn't really barking at all the night before. Using my Dog Whisperer tactics, I tried to get him to stop barking, but it really wasn't working. I went to go work-out, since I figured it would be best to give Bruno some space. When I got back, he started the barking thing with me again. I thought about taking him outside, but then knowing my track record and previous misfortunes, I figured it would not be the best idea. Plus, my roommate was going to come back in an hour to let him out. After I had showered, I was doing some work in my room and trying to make some phone calls. I closed the door, so I could talk on the phone without any distractions. But then Bruno started crying, so I opened the door to quiet him down. Bruno then raced into my room and then he ran out. He literally raced in and out like 20 times. It was as if Bruno had developed some sort of tourettes syndrome in the span of ten minutes. I didn't know what the hell he was doing. I just kind of assumed he was happy to see me. Eventually, Bruno settled down and went back to the main room to hang out.

The roommate comes back and he says "What's this?" I didn't know what he was talking about, since I had been in my room.  But I could sense in his tone, it wasn't a suitcase filled with a million dollars. It was something bad. He's then like, "Did you feed him rice?"  Rice? I replied "No."  But the strange thing was I did have rice the night before. And there was a little bowl of leftover fridge rice in the fridge. So I then thought, that Bruno somehow opened to fridge, grabbed the bowl of rice, and then made a mess of it everywhere.  But when I walked into the main room to see what my roommate was talking about. My eyes widen with shock, fear, and nausea. There was an insane amount of rice everywhere. I'm talking about piles and piles of it. So there was no way, it could've been my small leftover bowl of rice. Unless Bruno took that bowl of rice, went to a science lab and cloned it 50 times. I cannot even explain to you how much rice was dispersed everywhere. From the rancid stench, the roommate and I came to the conclusion that he had vomited it up.  But the question where did he get all of this rice? Apparently, the ex-girlfriend ran out of dog food and gave him chicken and rice for dinner the night before. (Thank you ex-girlfriend!) Let's just say, from after this incident I won't be eating rice for a while. Nor, will I be considering purchasing a Doberman. Bruno, if you're reading this right now... You're a great guy, but I think our relationship would be better if we didn't live which each other yet.

Other McNuggets...

-I was at the bank of the other day and this foreign bank teller, asked me if I was Jewish.  I replied yes with befuddlement.  I then asked her what was her reason for asking that.  She said because of my last name. She then asked me if I would like my $25 in pennies. I of course said yes. How could I turn that deal down?

-I recently scratched my car door gain.  Pretty badly, I'm not gonna lie, I'm not the best driver. But the parking spot I have now has to be one of the most difficult spots to get out of history. I would try to explain this to you over the blog, but it's one of those things you have to see to understand.  So a few days ago, I drove up to this valet guy at a restaurant. And the valet guy says to me, "Hey, would you like me to scratch up the other side for you?" Thanks A-Hole, for making me feel better about my car.  Why don't you just kick me in the balls and give me a wedgie while we're at it. 

-I saw "Up In The Air" recently and I must say it was really well done.  The film was extremely relevant with what's going on in the world today. I wasn't big on Jason Reitman because he was the same guy that directed one of the most overrated films in history called "Juno". But the dude proved me wrong so kudos to him.  George Clooney was great, but I get the feeling that he was just playing himself and that's how he is in real life. And ladies I get the appeal. I would be more than happy to be in a menage a trois with him and Bruno.  (Assuming Bruno has not eaten any rice that day.)

(Can you say Mile High Club?)

-Speaking of gay threesomes and food... I was at the deli counter at the grocery store and this overly friendly Asian man was helping me. I don't mean to stereotype, but I got the sense from the cadence in his voice that there was a good chance he was a homosexual. So I was looking to get some good deli meat ham. (Yes, I realize that conflicts with my religious views) Anyways... The Asian deli man kept on giving me samples to try.  First he gave me a piece of ham and then he gave me a piece of this horseradish cheese... I thanked him for the two samples, but he wouldn't let me leave.  He then gave me a piece of this scrumptious roast beef. He this gave me a sample of the roast beef with the horseradish cheese together. I tried to leave again, but he wanted me to try this chicken salad that he felt was to die for. Don't get me wrong, the fat kid and I appreciated the samples, but at the same time it was a bit uncomfortable because I couldn't leave. But I must say, the best place to get hit on by a gay guy is at the Deli Counter.

-Staying on the Asian topic... I was walking down the street at night time. Maybe around 9pm.  And this Asian Woman who was probably in her late 30's walks up to me and starts asking me questions about her landlord and signing a check. I honestly did not know what the hell she was talking about. So I just kind of nodded my head and agreed with everything she was saying.  Being the neurotic wuss that I am, I had the feeling she was trying to set me up to get jumped. So I kept on looking around for somebody to jump out out of nowhere.  She kept on rambling on about the landlord and some check.  Maybe the word of mouth got around from the foreign bank teller that I was Jewish and she needed some financial advice? Hell if I know. Finally, I was able to get the heck out of there. The more I think about it, maybe I do need Bruno in my life to protect me. Bruno... Come back. Jonno misses you.

I'm Out!

Utah, a Mysterious Farter, and Top Chef

I am not a fan of the state of Utah. It has to be the most boring, scariest state to drive through in the world. I was doing a cross country drive from Chicago to Los Angeles, and it was my second day of driving. I was ready to call it a night and find a place to stop in Utah, since I was late, tired, and I only had a little gas left. Now normally, there are usually exits every ten miles or so for gas, food, and lodging. And if there isn’t a service exit, then there is a sign that tells you how long till the next one. Apparently Utah doesn’t see the need to follow those rules. Because there was nothing and I mean absolutely nothing telling me where I could get gas and stop. And I don’t know if you’ve ever driven through Utah before, but it is a creepy state to drive through at night. There are hardly any other cars, the roads are curvy, and there are these huge monstrous hills to the side of the road. It looks exactly like where “The Hills Have Eyes” took place. I never did see the movie because I’m a bit of a wimpy baby, but I do remember seeing the previews and covering my eyes.

(Need a hand Jonno?)

So this is going on for a half hour and I’m still not seeing any service exits. I’m at the point where I have absolutely no gas left. I do see a sign for an exit called “Salinas” that is about 15 miles away. I’m hoping that I can make it there, but even if I did make it to the exit there’s a good chance there would be no gas stations there. On top all of this, I wasn’t getting any service on my cell. So I then preceded to have a bit of a panic pany freak out attack. I created the scenario in my head where I have to pull over on the side of the road because I was out of gas. I couldn’t make a phone call because I wasn’t getting any service. So I then had to hitchhike for help. And then some large burly Mormon man, has his way with me and chops my head off. I know most Mormon people are friendly and non-violent, but the Mormon that I dreamt up in my head was a vicious psychopath. Fortunately, I finally arrived at the “Salinas” exit and there was a gas station. It was a friggin miracle! So I’m proud to say no large burly Mormon man had his way with me and chopped my head off. I still ended up hooking up with a large burly Mormon man, it was mutual consent.

Other McNuggets...

I’m beginning to think there is a mysterious farter following me wherever I go. Whether it’s at the gym, a restaurant, or a public restroom, the mysterious farter always knows how to find me. Please allow me to take a second to explain how the mysterious farter works… I’ll be at a public sink washing my hands and out of nowhere this toxic, heinous, fart smell will come out of nowhere. I then look around to see who did it, and there is nobody there. Then a few seconds later… Somebody will enter, smell then fart, and look at me as if I did it. When I’m 100 percent innocent. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been guilty of some horrid blasters in the past. But those were usually done in my own privacy. Mysterious farter, I don’t know who you are, but I’ll do whatever it takes to track you down! You got me?

-Since the whole Tiger Woods fiasco has been causing a lot of buzz, I figure I might as well give my awkward take on it. There is no doubt Tiger is an idiot for what he did and I don’t condone cheating for any reason. But can we really be that surprised? The guy is Tiger Woods. He’s only one of the most famous public figures in the world. On top of that he is traveling non-stop through out the year. So let’s say each time he goes out to a bar or a restaurant there’s probably eight women trying to hit on him. And let’s say he’s gone a hundred days out of the year. So that’s 800 women a year he has to turn down. For a man, that is extremely difficult. The majority of guys I know would not be able to turn down all those women. There are some exceptions, such as myself, given I’m a man of ethics and morals and also a bit of a wuss. But unfortunately most dudes I know would not be able to resist the temptation. I’m sure though that if Tiger had the mysterious farter following him around, all of this could have been avoided.

-So now that I’m in a new city, I of course had to join a new gym. I mean how else am I going to maintain this amazing physique? There happened to be a Bally’s right down the street from me. So I figured based on it’s convenience and price, I would just join that one. Now, I’ve never belonged to Bally’s. I know it’s a large chain and maybe not as nice as other gyms I’ve belonged to in the past, but I was okay with that. So I meet with one of the Sales Managers and he seems like a nice enough gent. He gives me a tour and frankly the gym looks like complete crap. The best way to explain twhat the gym looks like… Is imagine for whatever reason a gym and the people inside of it were frozen in 1991. And then by some miracle, the gym came to life in December’09. That’s exactly how it looked to me. So even though I was not impressed with the aesthetics of the place, for $25 I figured I would join. So right after I signed the dotted line, this schlubby guy walks in. He yells to the Sales Manager, “Hey, just so you know, some guy from the Health Inspection Department is taking pictures in the locker room. Why can’t you guys fix up that place already? It’s friggin disgusting!” I appreciate the information Mr. strange schlubby man. Where the hell were you three seconds ago?

-It’s assumed that when you are at a public place such as a coffee shop, it’s not the most polite thing to talk on the cell phone loudly. I mean you can have a conversation for a few minutes that is not disruptive and is socially acceptable. But apparently people who don’t speak English feel it is appropriate to yell on the phone and talk for a good hour. I don’t really understand the rationale there. Just because you speak a language we don’t understand you’re allowed to kick back, relax, and talk up a storm? That’s not fair! I can’t wait for the time I visit your country and start yacking loudly on my cell while you’re trying to get work done. I might get castrated and murdered for doing it, but it will be worth it to prove my point!

-I’ve turned into a big fan of Top Chef. I’m not really into cooking, but I think it’s more because the inner fat kid in me gets aroused. (He’s going through puberty) I watched the finale last night and I was pleased with who the winner was. I knew for the suspense it would come down to the two Voltaggio brothers. And even though that fat Kevin guy was talented, something about him annoyed the heck out of me. I must say I cannot stand the host, Padma Lakshmi. She must have the most boring personality and tone I’ve ever seen. She’s almost as bad as that buxom host for The Biggest Loser, Allison Sweeney. I really think instead of prescribing Ambien, they should just have Padma talk for five minutes and people would be knocked out cold in no time.

(Do I make you sleepy?)

-In weird couple news… Jessica Simpson is supposedly dating Billy Corgan. I’m not sure what the attraction there is for Jessica. But it proves the theory again to all you below average looking men out there… You wanna date a hot gal? Then you better be one hell of a musician. If you need some more clarification just ask that pudgy, weird looking, lead singer of the Counting Crows.

I'm Out!

Wax On, Wax Off

It was brought to my attention from a doctor's appointment that I have a lot of ear wax build up. Sorry ladies and little boys... My sexy, hot beefcake self might not be as desirable as once thought. I've always associated ear wax build up with an elderly person. But as I've learned throughout my 28 years, I tend to get many symptoms that an elderly person would have. So I was kind of hoping that I could get the ear wax out myself with a cue tip, but apparently it was so far in my ear that I had to go to a specialist. I don't know why my general doctor couldn't attempt to get it out, but my guess is that he did not want to get anywhere near it. Can I blame him? Not really. So I ended up making an appointment with an ear, nose, and throat doctor. After waiting for about an hour, my name finally gets called. By the way, why is it that I see the weirdest friggin people in doctor's waiting rooms? On second thought, maybe I look weird to the other people too? Okay, I'm just gonna shut up now.

I explain to the doctor's assistant that I need to get my ears cleaned out. Her reaction made it seem like this was a normal occurrence, so that made me feel a bit more comfortable. The doctor's assistant leaves the room and tells me that they'll be right back to clean them out. Now, in my mind I pictured them using some type of instrument, like a scalpel or something to get the ear wax out. But apparently I was wrong. These two nurses walk in with this mega huge super soaker looking device. It looked like the hose that fireman use to put out a massive fire. The nurses put this large tarp over me and I my head is spinning from not knowing what the hell is going on. The one nurse fills up this super soaker thingy, while the other nurse holds a cup underneath my ear. It would've been nice to hear some type of explanation of what's going to happen, but instead they just got right down to business. The nurse with the super soaker walks over to me and precedes to shoot the water into my ear. And I'm not just talking about a little squirt or two. It felt like she was pouring all of Lake Michigan into my ear at a hundred miles per hour. And it friggin hurt folks! I wanted to cry, but the one percent of integrity I have was able to beat out the 99 percent of panziness I have. Usually the 99 percent always wins.

So after a few minutes of shooting this water into my ear. The ear, nose, and throat doctor runs into the room. I was excited to see the doctor, because I was hoping he could give me some sort of an explanation to what's going on and possibly protect me from the giant super soaker. Instead he says to me, "Your insurance stinks." What the hell? Do I not get a hello? The doctor goes on to give me a lecture about my health insurance. And how stupid of me it was to choose an insurance with a $5,000 deductible. As he is telling me all of this, the woman is shooting the water into my ear and I can barely tolerate the pain or comprehend what he is saying. I explained to the doctor I was working a contract job where I wasn't getting insurance. So I had to pay for it out of my own pocket and I couldn't afford insurance with a lower deductible. But my question is, what the hell happened to the usual doctor greeting? "Hello, my name is Dr. so-in-so... nice to meet you... (Handshake followed by an ass fondle) What? Are you trying to tell me your doctor never fondled your ass? Looks like you need to find a new doctor!

After berating me about how stupid my insurance was, the doctor finally left. It was now time to clean out the left ear. I couldn't believe I was only half-way done. I wanted to take a breather from the super soaker so I attempted to make some small talk with the nurses. And by the way, thank the Lord that these nurses weren't attractive. Not that I really have a chance with the majority of attractive females out there. But if I did have a chance, I can't imagine anyone would be attracted to an ear wax filled idiot with horrible insurance. I'm not an avid reader of Cosmo, but my hunch is those are not traits women look for in men. So I asked the nurses if my ear wax build up was normal or is it usually more than they are used to seeing. They replied that it's pretty above average. What the hell is wrong with the doctor's office? I got the doctor telling me how stupid my insurance is and I have the nurses telling me my ear wax build up is not normal. They might as well tell me I suck at life and I should go crawl in a bunker and isolate myself from society. What ever happened to the decency of making the patient feel good about themselves? Even if they have to lie to me.


So it's now time to clean out my left ear. For some reason the nurse, decides to use water that is extremely hot. I'm talking about water that would be too hot to wash your hands in. So now I don't only have to deal with the discomfort of the water pressure hitting my ear, but also the scorching hot water. They might as well kick me in the nuts and give me a wedgie too. Because I'm sure those things would feel better than this! Finally, they were done cleaning out the left ear. I couldn't even tell you how happy I was to be done with this. It was as if I had survived a war and come back home. One of the nurses then shows me the cup that was being held underneath my ear. She's like, "Look! You see how much wax you had in there?" My idiotic self then looks in the cup and I almost vomit. I don't mean to gross any of my awkward readers, but I could not believe the size of the wax and how that could possibly fit in my ear. It was like the size of a goldfish. The nurse then says, "I bet you can hear a lot better now." But the truth was I couldn't hear any better. The reason being, I still had water stuck in both of my ears because of the God damn high pressure super soaker!


I'm Out!

McNugget Bonanza

-It is becoming apparent to me how comfortable some men are being naked in the locker room. I'm not talking about ripped, physically fit men. I'm talking about middle-aged, out of shape, hairy, saggy men. I've always been a believer to keep my nakedness to myself, except for a select few lucky ladies out there.(Not including my mom) Don't ge me wrong, if I looked like Terell Owens nude, I would be shaking my ass with no towel on. Given that I look like a pasty white, hairy, teletubbie naked... I'm fully aware of my limitations.

(T.O.) (Jonno)

But after seeing many schlubby men with small wangs prance around the gym locker room... I'm beginning to think that I need to embrace my nakedness and be proud of who I am! (By the way, I wasn't really looking at the small wangs. I just kind of took a peek and looked away. What? Everybody peeks.)

-I'm having an issue with public bathroom sinks. You know the ones where you push down on the knob to turn it on? Well I can turn them on, but the problem is that I can never turn them off. I do everything possible with the knob to turn it off and I can't get the water to shut off. I try twisting it to the right, to the left, pushing down, pushing up.... I get nothing! So then I wonder if it's one of those automatic ones that go off on it's own. So then I'm standing there like an idiot, staring at the sink for a few minutes waiting for the water to stop. And it doesn't! I don't want to be rude and just walk out with the water running, but I'm out of options people! How in the hell do you turn these sinks off? On another note, I'm not the biggest fan of the hand sensor paper towel dispensers. I look like a retarded mime trying to perform on a street corner. Not there's anything wrong with that. I'm sure they make an honest living.

-First David Letterman and now dudes from ESPN getting caught having affairs with fellow staffers. What is going on? Look, I know cheating happens. It's something that is very common with adults in the workplace. But Steve Phillips, what the hell are you thinking? You have a lovely wife, four children, a great job, and you risk all of that for this gal?

(I think I rather hook up with the teletubbie.)

Are you kidding me? And this is after you already admitted to having a sexual addiction problem and had an affair while you worked for the Mets. I'm sorry, but you deserve everything that is coming. I would also like to clear up this whole myth of sexual addiction. Every single man is addicted to sex. If every man could get laid, they would as much as possible. But some of us don't have many options. Now celebrity, rich, and powerful men can have sexual relations whenever they choose. So therefore, they are the ones that always admit to having a sexual addiction problem. (Michael Douglas, David Duchovny, Russell Brand etc...) Now I myself don't have a sexual addiction problem because I'm too busy trying to figure out how to turn off public sinks.

-You know you're getting old when you enjoy Costco. I went there the other day and had a friggin blast. The fat kid and I were going ape shit over the samples. Every aisle I walked in there was another friendly older lady handing me a delightful chicken taquito or a cream puff. I must say though there are a few awkward moments with the samples. First of all, I feel like I have to make small talk with the sample lady. I have to show some type of interest in the sample and ask questions about it, even though there is no chance in hell I'm going to buy a 75 pack of egg rolls. Another thing is the second helping walk of shame. Sometimes samples are so good, I cannot help myself but return for another one. Customer code says that you take one and walk away. So when I go for seconds it is extremely awkward between me and the sample lady. I do my best to not make eye contact with them or another option is to wear some funny glasses in disguise. Or if you have some extra time on your hands such as myself, wait till there is a shift change and a new sample lady takes over. Then it's fair game. By the way, I've realized there may be a correlation between my love for the Costco samples and my teletubbie nakedness.

-So I had an interesting thing happened to me during the other night while I was sleeping. No it was not a wet dream, so get your head out of the gutter. I'm actually still waiting for my first one to happen, I got my fingers crossed. Anyways, I was having a dream which I can't remember too much of. But apparently there was this dude, who I'm not sure if I knew and he was making just the funniest faces that I have ever seen. And I could not stop laughing. Like it wasn't just a chuckle, it was like one of those uncontrollable laughs where you can't even breathe. I was laughing so much, I woke up and still laughed for another ten minutes. I don't know what the hell made this dude and his funny faces so hilarious, but it was if I had been injected with laughing gas. But why funny faces? The last time that made me laugh I was 2 years old and crapping my diaper. If some stranger were to make those faces to me, while I was awake I would have to punch him in the face. Okay maybe I wouldn't really punch anybody, but at least I would pinch them or pull their hair.

-I heard on the news that a woman named Susan Finkelstein put a posting on Craigslist to get Phillies World Series Tickets by offering sexual favors. She was arrested by an undercover cop and her lawyer's excuse was that she has a case of Philly fever. First of all, is there a funnier name than Susan Finkelstein? It sounds like the name of my Hebrew Teacher growing up. I also love the explanation too that she has case of Philly Fever. I believe the correct diagnosis should be Whorish Fever.

(Jonno repeat after me.... Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha-olam...)

I guess I can't really make fun of it, because I had White Sox fever back in 2005 when they made it to the World Series. The difference for me was that even though I already had World Series tickets, I was still giving out sexual favors. What can I say? I'm just very generous.

I'm Out!

Sit and Reach, Letterman, and the Craz-E Burger

So apparently when you join a new gym, the standard procedure is to get a physical assessment with one of the head trainers. I must say I am not a fan of this, but given the team player I am... I went through with it. Plus, I thought it would be great material for my awkward readers... And it of course did not disappoint. So I meet the head trainer, the guy is built like an Adonis. Apparently, he was a defensive back at Iowa and played a little bit in the NFL. At this point I'm thinking we have a lot of common, since I've played Fantasy Football for about ten years. So first he weighs me in, which wasn't too bad since I've dropped a few lbs. So I'm feeling decent at this point. Next up, was the body fat percentage. That did not go as well. The body fat percentage was a little higher than I expected. I know you want to know what is, but I'm sorry that is confidential between my trainer and I. But I'll tell you it's below 100 and higher than 1. Next up was the bicep strength test. Why don't we, just skip the results of that test. Next up was the dreaded sit and reach. Right away, I had flashbacks to the physical fitness test in 6th grade and a chubby little Jonno trying to do the sit and reach and failing miserably. Well after 16 more years, apparently nothing has changed. Folks, lets call a spade a spade, I'm not very flexible. I think a brick wall has a better chance of doing a somersault before I do. I was so bad at the sit and reach, that I could barely reach the measuring ruler. It doesn't help that I'm somewhat of a taller gent, but it was just a truly pathetic display. It you could somehow find a YouTube video of me attempting the sit and reach, I'm sure it would break the record for hits. The best way to explain how it looks, is to picture a Panda Bear trying to give itself oral.

(Jonno, how about a little help here?)

Mr. Adonis's next test was to check my heart rate. He had me speed walk on a treadmill for about ten minutes. At this point, I thinking this was my time to shine. I jog two miles 4-5 times a week. So I figured I would pass this test with flying colors. No dice, I got a bad score on that too. I'll blame it on the after effects of the sit and reach. So then Mr. Adonis gave me my summary. He said right now I have the health of a 32-year-old, which is four years older than my current age. He said ideally he wants me to have the health of a 19 year-old. At this moment, I felt like I was on the Biggest Loser where that creepy doctor with a lisp, makes all the fat people cry when he tells them how unhealthy they are. But really who wants to be a 19 year old? I could see maybe 22 or 23. But 19? Does that mean I also have to go back to using my Delaware fake Driver's License too? By the way, Dover is the capital of Delaware. That's a good thing to know in case you have a fake ID from Delaware and a bouncer asks that. In summary, I don't want to be 32 nor do I want to be the young age of 19. I would like to be the age that I'm currently at. I would also like to do the sit and reach with more ease. And I'm sure Panda Bears would like to give themselves oral with more ease. Panda Bears... Let's work together on this. With hard work and determination, we can do it!

Other McNuggets...(I saw a woman eating a 10 piece McNugget at a food court recently. And I strongly debated punching her and stealing them. I did not because I against Female and McNugget abuse.)

-This Letterman stuff is crazy. The more and more I hear about, it just gets wackier and wackier. I'm usually not surprised when I hear somebody famous cheating. But I admit, with Letterman I was surprised. Given, that he is one of the most private celebrities out there. You never ever hear a peep about him nor see a picture of him. When I found out that the person he was having an affair with was Stephanie Birkitt, the PA/Intern who was was constantly on the show. Whenever, I was watching Letterman and saw her on there, I always found it curious as to why she was always on the show. And obviously now it all makes sense. Mr. Letterman, I think you're one of the funniest people in history, but how dumb can you be? To constantly showcasw the person you're sleeping with on the show, when you never had another PA/Intern on there. Isn't that a little suspicious? In other talks show news, it's being reported that Jimmy Kimmel is dating the head writer. What's going on here with all these talk show hosts being pimps? Is Oprah the only one that doesn't get laid? Come on, we all know Stedman bats for the other team.

-I went to go see "Zombieland" the other day. The movie was alright, it was bit gruesome at times but entertaining. One problem with seeing a R rated Zombie movies are the trailers. I am a big fat wuss. I do not handle scary movies well at all. So I'm watching this one trailer, it starts off kind of peaceful. This pregnant young woman and her husband are at some rural diner. A nice old lady approaches the pregnant woman. And she politely asks, "Are you pregnant" And the woman replies, "Yes I am." The old lady then says, "Oh that's nice." So I'm thinking, okay maybe this isn't a scary movie and instead something nice and calm . Then out of nowhere, the Old lady says in a devilish voice, "You're baby is going to burn!" and then tries to take a bite out of the pregnant woman. I literally almost jumped out of my seat. I strongly debated running to my car and hiding underneath it, while I sucked my thumb. But good God that was frightening. So thinking I was done with the scariest trailer, the next one was the new Freddy Kreuger movie. I said a Mother F'er under my breath and stared at the ground until it was over. Note to self: Only go to G-Rated movies or don't enter the theater until the trailers are done.

-People in Chicago have no idea how lucky they are that the Olympics did not come here. I couldn't believe how disappointed everybody was when they found out news. It was as if some monumental person died or something. Do they realize what it would've been like? Ridiculous crowds of people, horrible traffic, threats to the public's safety etc... Wait a second, Chicago already has all of those things. Never mind.

-So I hear Russell Brand and Katy Perry are an item now. I'm sure Mr. Brand is dating her after reading one of my previous entries, where I discussed how Ms. Perry's attractiveness is very underrated. So he wanted to beat me to her. I get that. I am threatening figure. But let's be realistic here... I give this a few months, tops. And Katy when you need to somebody to be there for you after a difficult break-up, I'm only 101 feet away. (The Restraining Order stated I couldn't be within 100 feet)

-Speaking of stalking... I am the only one who is getting harassed by Micah Carter in my gmail? Micah Carter I have no idea who the hell you are, but you have to be the most annoying individual on the planet. Because you literally send me a spam e-mail daily. And they're always personalized too, like we're best buds or something. Micah I don't know you and frankly don't want to know you. Maybe you can wine and dine me sometime and change my mind. But as of right now, leave me the hell alone! Geez, now I know how Katy Perry feels.

-I like greasy food just as much as the next guy. But I have to admit, when I heard about the Krispy Kreme's "Craz-E Burger" it made me nauseous. The Craz-E Burger contains a beef patty, two strips of bacon, melty gooey cheese, and sandwiched between two glazed donuts. The sandwich contains 1,500 calories. I mean who in their right mind would want to eat that? Instead of using weapons and guns on people. I say you give them a Craz-E Burger if you want to kill them. That way it's less violent and dangerous. Hey Micah Carter.... How about a Crazy-E Burger? It's on the house.
(At least it's Kosher)

-I must say I'm very excited about the return of the Real World/Road Rule challenge "The Ruins". That's right. You heard me. I'm not afraid to admit it. I don't know what it is, but that show entertains the shit out of me. And recently I discovered that the veteran Brad(Real World San Diego) works out at my gym. When I saw him I almost screamed like a little school girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. But I was able to contain myself. There's no need to have two restraining orders against me. Instead, I just went up to him and asked if he could spot me in the shower.

I'm Out!

Do You Want Me To Be Honest With You?

I've come to the realization that the worst thing to hear somebody say is "Do you want me to be honest with you?" Whether it was from a girlfriend, a person's response to a script I wrote, or a manatee(I had to put something random in there), I've only heard horrible things come from those words. Well it happened again last week, when I could sense something was going on at work. So I went into my Supervisor's office to find out what the dillio was? (Has anybody said that word dillio since 1993?) The Supervisor says the famous words, "Do you want me to be honest with you?" At that point, I should've just ran out of the room and hid underneath my desk, while I sucked my thumb. Because I knew it was going to be something horrible. It's not like somebody would ever say to you, "Do you want me to be honest with you?" And then follows it with, "God you are the most amazing person in the world." So after the Supervisor says those words to me, I of course nodded and prepared to brace myself. And he then says, "Your last day is Friday." Mother F'er! I knew it! I really think we need to reconsider those words in the English Language and substitute them with "Are you ready to hear some really shitty stuff that's going to make you feel like crap?"

Other McNuggets(Chicken Select Strips? What an insult to the McNugget family!)

-Earlier this week was the Jewish holiday, Yom Kippur. Yom Kippur is the wonderful holiday where we get to starve ourselves for 24 hours. Don't be jealous, I know it beats the hell out of happy Christmas songs and Easter Egg hunts. Anyways, if you know anything about me... It's that I'm a fan of eating. So I'm sitting in Temple a bit tense and bothered, since all I can think of is a Gordita from Taco Bell.
(Come on, eat me Jonno. You know you want to.)


For some reason whenever I'm hungry, my brain always turns to Taco Bell. And then when I finally get it, I'm like this really isn't that good. But then a few months later, I crave it again. It's the weirdest thing. Anyway, I'm sitting at Temple and it's the part of the service where the Rabbi gives his sermon. This is usually, where I space out big time and think about Jonno's Happy Place (Muppets, rainbow sprinkles, breasts, and now Gorditas) The sermon is about the recession. Shocker. Strangely, the Rabbi starts telling recession jokes. His first one was "The recession is so bad, I got a pre-declined credit card in the mail." Everybody laughs and I'm thinking okay he started off with a joke and that would be it. But no I was totally wrong. The Rabbi goes into a series of recession jokes. I felt like I was at Giggles Comedy Club and was waiting for Gilbert Gottfriend to come out and start yelling at us. His next joke was, "It's so bad, McDonalds is now introducing the 1/4-Ouncer" Everybody in the Temple is cracking up and practically falling off their chairs. I figured he would be done, but he wasn't. He finally closed with, "The economy is so bad that parents in Beverly Hills are considering raising their own children." I know the Rabbi was trying to give us some humor to take a break from the boredom and the fasting, but it just seemed awkward and out of place. Do you want me to be honest with you Rabbi? You stink at comedy.

-I was helping my sister move this past weekend. Okay, maybe I wasn't really helping. I was more just staring, scratching my ass, and picking my nose. But anyway, being a professional mover has to be one of the worst jobs out there. You have to lift heavy shit all day. And it's not like you have to do it once and you're done. You have to carry it again, into the new place that the customer is moving into. God, I would be brutally bad at that job. Another job that I would be bad at would be a Taxi Driver. I've always hated driving, when there are strangers in the car. To add on to that, I would also be a bad stripper. For one thing, I'm not that flexible. I never did good with the sit and reach in gym class. And if you want me to be honest with you, I'm much more attractive clothed than naked.

-Fantasy Football has really turned me into a bitter, angry, old man. It's totally ruined any enjoyment of watching football games. I hardly ever watch the actual game, instead all I do is stare is at the stat ticker at the bottom of the screen. And I don't really ever say anything, all I do is just sit there with a scowl on my face. It's almost like I have somehow morphed into Clint Eastwood from "Gran Torino."
(Aaron Rodgers throw a friggin TD and get off my lawn!)

-I think I finally found a new funny show on network television. Yes people, I just said network television. It's called "Modern Family". It's like a mix between "The Office" and the movie "Parenthood". I've seen the first two episodes and I've actually laughed out loud. Which is a rare occurrence for me. I think the last time I laughed during a TV show, was "ALF". Why can't they make shows like that anymore? God, I miss that little furry guy.

-So I joined a new gym recently. Yeah that's right, you heard me. Got a problem with that? Look at me, I've already turned into a meathead. I never realized how big of a commitment it is. It's almost like I'm entering a one year relationship with somebody. Except there's no comfortable, constant sex. Unless, I meet a nice gent in the shower. Can you say soap chase? Apparently part of the deal of joining a gym, is that you have to do a physical assessment with one of the trainers. And I already know what they're going to tell me. "Do you want me to be honest with you?" I nod yes. "You should just cancel your membership because there's really no way we can help you."


I'm Out!