Last week my co-worker/buddy Johnny and I traveled to Cleveland to see Motley Crue. One of the TV stations in Cleveland was taking us out there. It was good deal, the TV station paid for the airfare, hotel, food, concert, alcohol etc. . .
Our plane was taking off at O'hare around 8:30 a.m. On the way to the airport, traffic was just brutal. So we were running a little late. While we were walking to our gate, Johnny could not find his cell-phone. He checked his coat pockets and it was not there. He then realized that he probably left his cell-phone in the car. Not the biggest deal in the world, since he could just use my cell phone if he needed to make any phone calls. But the problem was that he had the phone numbers of the people we were suppose to meet in Cleveland, in his phone. We figured once we landed in Cleveland, we would call one of our co-workers to get the phone numbers from Johnny's computer.
Let me tell ya O'hare is one big ass place! If you need a work-out, try walking around that place a few times. On the way to our gate we passed by a McDonalds. We weren't sure if we should go to McDonalds now or go to our gate first to check in. This was a pure battle with the inner fat kid. The inner fat kid was obviously telling us to eat the McDonalds now and not care if we were to miss our flight. The fat kid's rationale was: if we did miss the flight, at least we would have eaten McDonalds. Normal rationale: catching the flight and having all paid for trip to Cleveland is more important than eating McDonalds. In the end, we were able to defeat the inner fat kid and decide to walk to the gate first. But it was a tough battle.
We finally made it to the gate and had two questions for the attendant. 1) Is the plane here yet? Answer: No 2) Do we have time to go to McDonalds? Answer: Yes, but you should hurry up. Johnny and I made a fast waddle to McDoanlds and got some breakfast. We brought the food back to the gate. We were both having a fabulous time chowing down on some Egg Mcmuffins. By the time we finished our food, the attendant was calling the rows to board the plane. I stood up and started to look for my boarding pass. I checked both of my jean pockets, not there. I then checked my duffle bag, not there. The last time I remembered holding the boarding pass was when I was eating McDonalds. I was holding it with my napkins. Sherlock Schmuko Holmes then makes the masterful assumption that I must of thrown away the boarding pass with the McDonalds bag. Keep in mind, the theme of losing stuff was imbedded in my brain after Johnny left his cell-phone in his car.
I then made a furious dash to the garbage can. With my bare hands, I went through every McDonalds bag I could fine looking for that friggin boarding pass. As I'm searching, I hear Johnny yell out, "Hey, look at that bum! Look at that bum search the garbage!" I turn around around to see about 15-20 people staring at me. With no luck of finding my boarding pass and fear of missing my flight, Sherlock Schmuko Holmes decides to take the top off of the garbage can so I could get deeper into the garbage. As I searched deeper in the garbage can, I probably looked like a friggin raccoon rumbling through a dumpster. Instead of giving me some assistance Johnny then yells out, "Hey, you don't have to eat that other half of that Egg McMuffin! I can buy you a new one!" I then turn around to see an additional 20 people looking at me. I then walked back over to Johnny where my duffle bag and coat were. He is laughing hysterically at me and I got about 50 people staring at me. My last and final attempt to find my boarding pass was to search my coat pockets. I reached my hand into my left coat pocket and there I pull out my boarding pass. What the hell is wrong with me?
I'm out!
Monday, February 28, 2005
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
A.C. Green, Annoying Fans, and Fatty Foods
The other night, I was fortunate enough to go the Bulls vs. Sacramento Kings game. It was a heck of a game and my tough Bulls got the win. Ben Gordon played phenomenally, by hitting clutch shot after clutch shot. What a pick Paxson!
One of the good things about sitting close to the team's bench, is that you get to see how professional players act during the game. The first four players on the bench watch the game closely. Knowing that at anytime their coach could throw them in the game. But as you gaze farther down the bench at the guys who don't get to play that much, they do not pay attention to the game at all. All they do is look in the audience to inform one another when they see a hot girl. Don't get me wrong, there were a lot of good looking women at the game. I myself, even did a few stare downs. But these players are extremely fortunate to be playing in the NBA for a living. So you would think for 2 and a half hours they could just watch their team play and not gawk at women the whole game. Man, where's A.C. Green when you need him? (Fun fact: A.C. Green, early 40's, a former NBA player who remained abstinent until he got married two years ago.)
When you sit behind the basket, the first ten rows are given these big cardboard signs that say "BRICK." You are too flash and wave these signs, whenever the opposing team shoots a free throw. Knowing how stupid I would feel holding this sign and realizing this has no effect on a professional nba player missig a free throw, I refuse to partake in this pointless act. But everybody else sitting around gets extremely into it. If its kids doing it, I totally understand. Kids are annoying. But these are 40-year-old grown men, shaking these signs like there is no tomorrow. People, I hate to break it you. But your stupid little "BRICK" sign will have no distraction on a NBA player making a free throw, when they probably shoot 100 of them on a daily basis. Yeah, I could totally see Peja Stojakovic who completes 92 percent of free throws telling his coach, "Sorry coach about the missed free throw. But this one guy in row G, seat 7 was shaking his "BRICK" sign so rapidly. I just could not stop staring at it." Friggin morons!
During time-outs at NBA games there is always some type of entertainment for the fans. Every game there is a Dunkin Doughnut race on the jumbo-tron. When you enter the stadium, you are given a card that either has a "1, 2, or 3" on it. Which ever number you get that is the doughnut that you are suppose to root for. If your doughnut wins the race, you supposedly get a free doughnut and coffee, or something like that. You would think they are giving away free steak and lobster at the best restaurant in Chiago. These people are screaming on top of their lungs, cheering for their stupid-ass doughnut to win the race. And again, these are not just kids we are talking about here. Also, during time-outs they got these guys running around shooting out these free-shirts. Depending on how loud you are screaming, they will shoot the t-shirt in your area. These same annoying fans are spazzing out, acting like monkeys all for a stinkin free t-shirt. You would think there was some type of gold wrapped inside of these t-shirts. I saw this 30 someting year-old guy, wrestling with a ten-year-old kid for this spectacular, once in a lifetime t-shirt. Geez, get a life!
Finally, one of the perks of going to a basketball game is the food. You really don't eat at a game if you are trying to diet. Between the nachos, hot dogs, pizza, beef sandwiches, and cheesburgers the fat kid alarm was naturally going off at an alarming rate. I chose to go with the "minnie burgers." Which are, three miniature cheeseburgers with a pickle on top. They were very scrumptious. Usually, I also get nachos too but fortunately the inner fat kid was taking a nap. And I had no intentions of waking him. I think these pro arenas are trying to making every single fan obese. Because if the Bulls score over 120 points and win, every fan gets a free Big Mac from McDonalds. Apparently, it is not enough if a fan chows down on a hot dog, nachos, pretzel, ice cream cone and a large coke. Add on to that a free doughnut from the pheneomenal dunkin doughnut race, if you are so fortunate to win. Heck, you would think the Bulls organization would give a free lipo after a night of eating like that.
I'm out!
One of the good things about sitting close to the team's bench, is that you get to see how professional players act during the game. The first four players on the bench watch the game closely. Knowing that at anytime their coach could throw them in the game. But as you gaze farther down the bench at the guys who don't get to play that much, they do not pay attention to the game at all. All they do is look in the audience to inform one another when they see a hot girl. Don't get me wrong, there were a lot of good looking women at the game. I myself, even did a few stare downs. But these players are extremely fortunate to be playing in the NBA for a living. So you would think for 2 and a half hours they could just watch their team play and not gawk at women the whole game. Man, where's A.C. Green when you need him? (Fun fact: A.C. Green, early 40's, a former NBA player who remained abstinent until he got married two years ago.)
When you sit behind the basket, the first ten rows are given these big cardboard signs that say "BRICK." You are too flash and wave these signs, whenever the opposing team shoots a free throw. Knowing how stupid I would feel holding this sign and realizing this has no effect on a professional nba player missig a free throw, I refuse to partake in this pointless act. But everybody else sitting around gets extremely into it. If its kids doing it, I totally understand. Kids are annoying. But these are 40-year-old grown men, shaking these signs like there is no tomorrow. People, I hate to break it you. But your stupid little "BRICK" sign will have no distraction on a NBA player making a free throw, when they probably shoot 100 of them on a daily basis. Yeah, I could totally see Peja Stojakovic who completes 92 percent of free throws telling his coach, "Sorry coach about the missed free throw. But this one guy in row G, seat 7 was shaking his "BRICK" sign so rapidly. I just could not stop staring at it." Friggin morons!
During time-outs at NBA games there is always some type of entertainment for the fans. Every game there is a Dunkin Doughnut race on the jumbo-tron. When you enter the stadium, you are given a card that either has a "1, 2, or 3" on it. Which ever number you get that is the doughnut that you are suppose to root for. If your doughnut wins the race, you supposedly get a free doughnut and coffee, or something like that. You would think they are giving away free steak and lobster at the best restaurant in Chiago. These people are screaming on top of their lungs, cheering for their stupid-ass doughnut to win the race. And again, these are not just kids we are talking about here. Also, during time-outs they got these guys running around shooting out these free-shirts. Depending on how loud you are screaming, they will shoot the t-shirt in your area. These same annoying fans are spazzing out, acting like monkeys all for a stinkin free t-shirt. You would think there was some type of gold wrapped inside of these t-shirts. I saw this 30 someting year-old guy, wrestling with a ten-year-old kid for this spectacular, once in a lifetime t-shirt. Geez, get a life!
Finally, one of the perks of going to a basketball game is the food. You really don't eat at a game if you are trying to diet. Between the nachos, hot dogs, pizza, beef sandwiches, and cheesburgers the fat kid alarm was naturally going off at an alarming rate. I chose to go with the "minnie burgers." Which are, three miniature cheeseburgers with a pickle on top. They were very scrumptious. Usually, I also get nachos too but fortunately the inner fat kid was taking a nap. And I had no intentions of waking him. I think these pro arenas are trying to making every single fan obese. Because if the Bulls score over 120 points and win, every fan gets a free Big Mac from McDonalds. Apparently, it is not enough if a fan chows down on a hot dog, nachos, pretzel, ice cream cone and a large coke. Add on to that a free doughnut from the pheneomenal dunkin doughnut race, if you are so fortunate to win. Heck, you would think the Bulls organization would give a free lipo after a night of eating like that.
I'm out!
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Boring Random Rants and a Whacko Lady
Alright, what up? I never know how to start these darn things, so lets cut to the chase here.
My thoughts on Sammy Sosa being traded: What team would want Sosa? Are they crazy? Granted the Cubs will be paying for most of his salary, but this guy is damaged goods. He hits for a low average, strikes out a ton, can't field, has no arm, close to 40 years old, doesn't care about winning, plays loud annoying music with his boombox, has some sketchy entourage, and is a self-centered pain in the ass. You would think these reasons, would be enough not to trade for him. But for some strange reason the Baltimore Orioles were willing to take him. Here is another good example of Cubs GM Jim Hendry making another masterful move. If he could only be the White Sox GM. . . . Now don't think that just because Sosa has left the Cubs, I'm switching to the North Side. There are still too may reasons why I would never become a Cub fan. One of them is the fear of my father disowning me. So don't worry, I will always stay true to my lonely White Sox. No matter how tough it gets. But for all you Cubs fan out there, be extremely happy that this phoney, fake, piece of crap is gone.
What the heck happend Saturday Night Live? Oh my God is it bad! The cast is so not funny. The writing is horrible! Lorne Michaels, its time to do something already. The only funny/talented person on the cast right now is Fred Arminsen. He is really the only guy I see who has a future in Hollywood. I'll also add that Darrell Hammond is good at doing impressions and Amy Poehler is funny for a chic. One of the problems I see with this cast, is that they have no recurring characters. Recurring characters are what made this show so great. Characters like Waynes World, Pat, Church Lady, Opera Man, Matt Foley, Harry Carry, Bulls/Bears guys etc... Right now, I cannot name one recurring character for this present cast. Now that Will Ferrell (comic genius), Molly Shannon, Cheri Oteri, Chris Kattan, and Jimmy Fallon have all left I think it would be wise to start all over with a whole new cast of no-names. Kind of like what they did when Farley/Sandler/Myers/Spade all left the show. Oh, and who's bright idea was it to make Tina Fey the head writer. Ever since she has gotten that title, the show has gone in the crapper. Oh and no, this is not a campaign to get Schmuko an opportunity on the show. I am fully aware that I am not talented enough to be on the show. So don't worry folks.
I saw an advertisement for that new "Apprentice Burger" from Burger King. I believe its called the "Western Steakburger." It contains 1/3 lb of burger, lettuce, chedder cheese, bbq sauce, and onion rings (woooh) After seing this ad, the fat kid alarm was of course going off at a rapid rate. So I waddled over to my nearest Burger King and was getting ready to meet my new friend. Right before I was getting ready to order, some whacko lady comes out of nowhere and cuts in front of me to ask for change. I mean, it was almost like it was staged or something. The timing was just phenomenal. Seeing that I was waiting before the whacko lady, the Burger King employee allowed me to order my food first. So of course I went ahead and ordered my Western Steakburger. The whacko lady, hears what I orderd and glances at the pictuee of the Steakburger. She then says to me, "Oooooh ,boy that looks good." Being the friendly gent that I am, I replied, "Yes it does." Was she done talking? Oh no. Because this burger is known as the "Apprentice Burger." She then says, "Oh, thats the burger from The Apprentice. That Donald Trump sure has weird hair. Its so obvious he goes for the comb-over. Hah-Hah-Hah." (Hey annoying Sherlock, that's the first I've heard about somebody talking about Trump's hair. Friggin Idiot!) Trying to get her to shut the F-up, I just faked laughed and said "Oh, I know." But people, the question here is why do you have to talk to me? I don't know you and I don't want to get to know you. I'm just trying to fill my manatee appetite and enjoy a burger here. So please leave me the hell alone and in return I will leave you alone. Deal? Deal.
Before I say goodbye, I'll tell you my Super Bowl thoughts. Very good match-up between the Patriots and Eagles. If Terrell Owens was 100 percent healthy, I might have picked the Eagles. But since he is not, I will have to go with the Patriots. Tom Brady always finds a way to get the job done, Bellicheck is amazing at coming up with defensive schemes, and Corey Dillon is a weapon that they have never been able to utilize in a Super Bowl before. I do think the Eagles will make the game competitive. Terell Owens will not be a factor and will be mainy used as a decoy. If the Patriots can stop the versatile Brian Westbrook, the Eagles have no chance. Final Score: Patriots 27 Eagles 23.
I'm out!
My thoughts on Sammy Sosa being traded: What team would want Sosa? Are they crazy? Granted the Cubs will be paying for most of his salary, but this guy is damaged goods. He hits for a low average, strikes out a ton, can't field, has no arm, close to 40 years old, doesn't care about winning, plays loud annoying music with his boombox, has some sketchy entourage, and is a self-centered pain in the ass. You would think these reasons, would be enough not to trade for him. But for some strange reason the Baltimore Orioles were willing to take him. Here is another good example of Cubs GM Jim Hendry making another masterful move. If he could only be the White Sox GM. . . . Now don't think that just because Sosa has left the Cubs, I'm switching to the North Side. There are still too may reasons why I would never become a Cub fan. One of them is the fear of my father disowning me. So don't worry, I will always stay true to my lonely White Sox. No matter how tough it gets. But for all you Cubs fan out there, be extremely happy that this phoney, fake, piece of crap is gone.
What the heck happend Saturday Night Live? Oh my God is it bad! The cast is so not funny. The writing is horrible! Lorne Michaels, its time to do something already. The only funny/talented person on the cast right now is Fred Arminsen. He is really the only guy I see who has a future in Hollywood. I'll also add that Darrell Hammond is good at doing impressions and Amy Poehler is funny for a chic. One of the problems I see with this cast, is that they have no recurring characters. Recurring characters are what made this show so great. Characters like Waynes World, Pat, Church Lady, Opera Man, Matt Foley, Harry Carry, Bulls/Bears guys etc... Right now, I cannot name one recurring character for this present cast. Now that Will Ferrell (comic genius), Molly Shannon, Cheri Oteri, Chris Kattan, and Jimmy Fallon have all left I think it would be wise to start all over with a whole new cast of no-names. Kind of like what they did when Farley/Sandler/Myers/Spade all left the show. Oh, and who's bright idea was it to make Tina Fey the head writer. Ever since she has gotten that title, the show has gone in the crapper. Oh and no, this is not a campaign to get Schmuko an opportunity on the show. I am fully aware that I am not talented enough to be on the show. So don't worry folks.
I saw an advertisement for that new "Apprentice Burger" from Burger King. I believe its called the "Western Steakburger." It contains 1/3 lb of burger, lettuce, chedder cheese, bbq sauce, and onion rings (woooh) After seing this ad, the fat kid alarm was of course going off at a rapid rate. So I waddled over to my nearest Burger King and was getting ready to meet my new friend. Right before I was getting ready to order, some whacko lady comes out of nowhere and cuts in front of me to ask for change. I mean, it was almost like it was staged or something. The timing was just phenomenal. Seeing that I was waiting before the whacko lady, the Burger King employee allowed me to order my food first. So of course I went ahead and ordered my Western Steakburger. The whacko lady, hears what I orderd and glances at the pictuee of the Steakburger. She then says to me, "Oooooh ,boy that looks good." Being the friendly gent that I am, I replied, "Yes it does." Was she done talking? Oh no. Because this burger is known as the "Apprentice Burger." She then says, "Oh, thats the burger from The Apprentice. That Donald Trump sure has weird hair. Its so obvious he goes for the comb-over. Hah-Hah-Hah." (Hey annoying Sherlock, that's the first I've heard about somebody talking about Trump's hair. Friggin Idiot!) Trying to get her to shut the F-up, I just faked laughed and said "Oh, I know." But people, the question here is why do you have to talk to me? I don't know you and I don't want to get to know you. I'm just trying to fill my manatee appetite and enjoy a burger here. So please leave me the hell alone and in return I will leave you alone. Deal? Deal.
Before I say goodbye, I'll tell you my Super Bowl thoughts. Very good match-up between the Patriots and Eagles. If Terrell Owens was 100 percent healthy, I might have picked the Eagles. But since he is not, I will have to go with the Patriots. Tom Brady always finds a way to get the job done, Bellicheck is amazing at coming up with defensive schemes, and Corey Dillon is a weapon that they have never been able to utilize in a Super Bowl before. I do think the Eagles will make the game competitive. Terell Owens will not be a factor and will be mainy used as a decoy. If the Patriots can stop the versatile Brian Westbrook, the Eagles have no chance. Final Score: Patriots 27 Eagles 23.
I'm out!
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
When Schmuko Met Willow
Sorry for the late blog, but I've been damn busy. (Or just too lazy)
So last week I started to worry because I had nothing interesting to talk about. But then Friday rolled around and the awkward juices starting coming out at full force. (That sounds kind of gross.) Friday morning I had a simple task, to pick up one of my co-workers. I did not consider this a big deal, given that she lived a few blocks away from me and I had picked her up before. Instead of going the same way I went before, my genius self decided to go a different way. That way did not work out so well, as it took me about 20 minutes driving around like a bafoon to finally find her. So if anybody wants a non-intentional tour of the city, feel free to give me a call. I work mornings and evenings.
Friday night a buddy of mine, Nate, came in from Nashville. So it was time to hit the bars and show him a good time. If you were not aware, there was a huge snowstorm that started Friday evening. To be the cool-cat that I am, I decided not wear a coat. (Do you think this will come and bite me in the ass later?) I wore my Abercromnie zip-up sweater. For some reason this sweater gives me bad luck. One day over this past summer, I was going to a Cubs game. And when I checked the weather report, I could of sworn that it was going to be 50 degrees. So I dressed a little warm and wore this sweater. Big mistake! At the game, we sat in one of these roof-tops in the outfield. And boy was the sun beaming on us. It must of felt close to 80 degrees. The logical solution would be to take off the sweater. Unfortunately, I had an extremely tight, stained undershirt on underneath. I was not in the mood to go prancing around, showing my guns in this revealing outfit. As the game went on, I must of had six or seven different people telling me to take my sweater off. It would be one thing if I knew these people, but they were complete strangers. I felt like I had the whole roof-top trying to take my head off just because I was wearing a sweater. Damn, people can be annoying!
Wearing this infamous sweater in the snowstorm, we headed out and met up with some other people. When I walked into the bar, I was surprised to see that it was packed given the weather conditions. I asked my friend Sean why was it so packed around here? He then replied, "There's some kind of AIDS benefit party going on." Hence the reason for the red ribbons all over the table I was sitting at. I thought to myself, "Can't wait to meet my lucky lady here." (SAI-LOR!) Anyways, we still had our fun at this bar, but it was time to move on to the next one.
When we headed outside, there was even more snow coming down. It was nasty out there! Fortunately, the next bar was across the street. At this bar they had a little dance floor. Let me tell ya, one of the most entertaining things is to watch these fellow schmukos go up to girls and start dancing with them. Its fun to guess how long it will take for the girl to turn them down. Then these jackasses move on to some other chick and give it another shot. At the same time, you got to give them credit for trying. As time went on, my friends and I ended up on the dance floor. It was time for Schmuko to break out the "roger rabbit." That always gets the place bumpin. (Man, am I hip!) Nate started dancing with this decent looking Indian gal, while her friend who looked like Willow was waiting to be swept off her feet by prince charming. (Fun fact: the actor that played Willow is the same person that played the Leprechaun.) I had to take a pass on Willow and allow Sean to step in. Who I might add, did a phenomenal job as wing-man. The bar was closing down and it was time figure what to do next. The plans were to go get some grub with the decent looking Indian gal and Willow/Leprechaun. Given that it would not be appetizing to see Willow chow down a burger, I decided to call it a night and head back.
I walked outside and tried to find a cab. Tons of snow had accumulated and it was still snowing. It was also freezing outside and I was wearing that damn friggin stupid sweater! I looked outside for a cab and saw nothing. Neither were there any cars roaming the streets. I thought to myself "Damn, not again!." If you remember I had this same problem during New Years, but luckily a hot dog saved me. But this time there would be no hot dog and the weather conditions would be ten times worse. So I sucked it up and started to walk. The sidewalks were piled with snow, so I had to walk in the street. It was freezing beyond belief. My face and ears felt the worst. As I walked a few cabs went by, but of course they were occupied. I really did not think I was going to make it, but I had no other choice.
At one point the freezing temperature was becoming so unbearable I had to walk into a bar. I stood there and warmed up for a few minutes. I was probably half-way home. I went back outside and continued my journey. As I walked the streets, I saw people pushing their car out of the snow and cars swerving in the streets. One car that went by me, was spinning so much it almost hit me. That sure would of been a bummer. After 40-45 minutes of walking I could see the light. I saw my building not too far away. It was a wonderful feeling. I was so damn frustrated, angered, exhausted, and my brain was barely functioning from the walk. So to see the destination was quite a relief. Then an SUV drives past me and slows down. Some wasted girl in the back seat rolls down her window. I could tell she was going to say something. Do you want to know what she said to me? It wasn't, "Oh, wow you must be freezing." It wasn't, "Hey do you want a ride?" Nor was it, "Hey, you sure are courageous and brave to be walking in this weather." Instead it was, "Does your vagina smell?" What a wonderful, interesting question! Funny you ask that because I was wondering the same thing. (Damn, drunk bitch!)
I'm out!
So last week I started to worry because I had nothing interesting to talk about. But then Friday rolled around and the awkward juices starting coming out at full force. (That sounds kind of gross.) Friday morning I had a simple task, to pick up one of my co-workers. I did not consider this a big deal, given that she lived a few blocks away from me and I had picked her up before. Instead of going the same way I went before, my genius self decided to go a different way. That way did not work out so well, as it took me about 20 minutes driving around like a bafoon to finally find her. So if anybody wants a non-intentional tour of the city, feel free to give me a call. I work mornings and evenings.
Friday night a buddy of mine, Nate, came in from Nashville. So it was time to hit the bars and show him a good time. If you were not aware, there was a huge snowstorm that started Friday evening. To be the cool-cat that I am, I decided not wear a coat. (Do you think this will come and bite me in the ass later?) I wore my Abercromnie zip-up sweater. For some reason this sweater gives me bad luck. One day over this past summer, I was going to a Cubs game. And when I checked the weather report, I could of sworn that it was going to be 50 degrees. So I dressed a little warm and wore this sweater. Big mistake! At the game, we sat in one of these roof-tops in the outfield. And boy was the sun beaming on us. It must of felt close to 80 degrees. The logical solution would be to take off the sweater. Unfortunately, I had an extremely tight, stained undershirt on underneath. I was not in the mood to go prancing around, showing my guns in this revealing outfit. As the game went on, I must of had six or seven different people telling me to take my sweater off. It would be one thing if I knew these people, but they were complete strangers. I felt like I had the whole roof-top trying to take my head off just because I was wearing a sweater. Damn, people can be annoying!
Wearing this infamous sweater in the snowstorm, we headed out and met up with some other people. When I walked into the bar, I was surprised to see that it was packed given the weather conditions. I asked my friend Sean why was it so packed around here? He then replied, "There's some kind of AIDS benefit party going on." Hence the reason for the red ribbons all over the table I was sitting at. I thought to myself, "Can't wait to meet my lucky lady here." (SAI-LOR!) Anyways, we still had our fun at this bar, but it was time to move on to the next one.
When we headed outside, there was even more snow coming down. It was nasty out there! Fortunately, the next bar was across the street. At this bar they had a little dance floor. Let me tell ya, one of the most entertaining things is to watch these fellow schmukos go up to girls and start dancing with them. Its fun to guess how long it will take for the girl to turn them down. Then these jackasses move on to some other chick and give it another shot. At the same time, you got to give them credit for trying. As time went on, my friends and I ended up on the dance floor. It was time for Schmuko to break out the "roger rabbit." That always gets the place bumpin. (Man, am I hip!) Nate started dancing with this decent looking Indian gal, while her friend who looked like Willow was waiting to be swept off her feet by prince charming. (Fun fact: the actor that played Willow is the same person that played the Leprechaun.) I had to take a pass on Willow and allow Sean to step in. Who I might add, did a phenomenal job as wing-man. The bar was closing down and it was time figure what to do next. The plans were to go get some grub with the decent looking Indian gal and Willow/Leprechaun. Given that it would not be appetizing to see Willow chow down a burger, I decided to call it a night and head back.
I walked outside and tried to find a cab. Tons of snow had accumulated and it was still snowing. It was also freezing outside and I was wearing that damn friggin stupid sweater! I looked outside for a cab and saw nothing. Neither were there any cars roaming the streets. I thought to myself "Damn, not again!." If you remember I had this same problem during New Years, but luckily a hot dog saved me. But this time there would be no hot dog and the weather conditions would be ten times worse. So I sucked it up and started to walk. The sidewalks were piled with snow, so I had to walk in the street. It was freezing beyond belief. My face and ears felt the worst. As I walked a few cabs went by, but of course they were occupied. I really did not think I was going to make it, but I had no other choice.
At one point the freezing temperature was becoming so unbearable I had to walk into a bar. I stood there and warmed up for a few minutes. I was probably half-way home. I went back outside and continued my journey. As I walked the streets, I saw people pushing their car out of the snow and cars swerving in the streets. One car that went by me, was spinning so much it almost hit me. That sure would of been a bummer. After 40-45 minutes of walking I could see the light. I saw my building not too far away. It was a wonderful feeling. I was so damn frustrated, angered, exhausted, and my brain was barely functioning from the walk. So to see the destination was quite a relief. Then an SUV drives past me and slows down. Some wasted girl in the back seat rolls down her window. I could tell she was going to say something. Do you want to know what she said to me? It wasn't, "Oh, wow you must be freezing." It wasn't, "Hey do you want a ride?" Nor was it, "Hey, you sure are courageous and brave to be walking in this weather." Instead it was, "Does your vagina smell?" What a wonderful, interesting question! Funny you ask that because I was wondering the same thing. (Damn, drunk bitch!)
I'm out!
Friday, January 14, 2005
I like to eat Burrito Bowls.
Alright its Friday, so let’s get the awkwardness going.
The other night I was doing some jogging on the treadmill, in the work-out room in my building. In the work-out room we have one TV. So whoever is in the room first has control over the TV. At times this can turn into a huge problem. I can get stuck watching some really bad crap for a while, like Gillmore Girls or some cheesy Lifetime movie. Whenever I have control over the TV, I try to put something on that would interest everybody. Like a football or basketball game. When I entered the work-out room I saw an older lady working out. I thought to myself “Shit! What the hell does she have on?” I look up at the TV and the woman has “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” on the tube. Let me just say its annoying enough to be jogging 3 miles and burned out after a long day of work. But it is even worse to watch these overly flamboyant, so-called men critique some dude as he shaves naked in the bathroom, By the end of the work-out, I felt like Richard Simmons sweatin’ to the oldies. I think the damn “Queer Show hypnotized me. Because right after I was done jogging, I did some squats and lunges to tighten up my ass.
The other day I waddled over to one of my favorite places, Chilpote. Many people at Chilpote always order a burrito or tacos. These people are unaware of the best item on the menu: The Burrito Bowl. A burrito bowl is basically everything you have in a burrito, but without the tortilla. It is served in a bowl and makes a scrumptious and delicious rice concoction. But before you order this dish there are a few rules you have to know.
1. Ask for extra rice, when they are filling your bowl with rice. This increases the portion size of your burrito bowl with not extra cost. But it is imperative that you ask for the extra rice after they have given your standard 2 scoops of rice.
2. When it comes to the meat part, do not be afraid to ask for double meat. So it is very possible that you could be eating your burrito bowl with not only chicken, but some steak in there also. (The fat kid alarm is going off now!)
3. Finally, I do not want to take credit for this because I did not come up with it. But an un-named source figured out that after your rice bowl is made, ask for a tortilla on the side. Now you can use this tortilla to either eat on the side as bread, or put some of the rice bowl ingredients on it. This is totally your own discretion. If you are a female it is crucial that you ask the male Chilpote worker for the tortilla. If you are a male, you ask the female Chilpote worker. And if you are ugly, just flip a coin.
Moving on, many people are asking me my thoughts on the Brad Pitt and Jennifer Anniston break-up. Well, lets start off by saying both these people appear to be extremely good looking, so they will have no trouble finding anybody else. So people, lets stop with this whining over there split. To all those rumors that the reason Brad split from Jen is because he wanted a baby, but Jen did not want one is complete bull. Brad Pitt could give a rat’s ass if he has a kid or not. I’ll fill you in on what happened. One day Brad Pitt woke up and realized he was Brad Pitt. He realized that he was filming a movie with Angelina Jolie, and that he could get her (probably aleady did) and anybody else he wants. Hell, he could probably even get me if he tried hard enough. He realized that his wife Jennifer, 34, is not getting any younger. Hence, is why the split happened. Don't get me wrong, Jennifer Anniston is an amazing looking woman. I would probably give my left arm to be a in the same room as that woman. Okay maybe I’m exaggerating a little bit here, I would give my right arm since I’m a lefty. Get your head out of the gutter, I know what you are thinking.
WARNING:To all you non-sport fans, this last rant will bore the crap out of you.
How about my Chicago Bulls? Have you seen how they are playing? They have won five in a row and have one of the best records in the NBA for January. Most of the credit has to go to Coach Scott Skiles and GM John Paxson. Skiles has done an amazing job coaching this team and has actually taught them how to play defense. John Paxson has gotten rid of all that crap on all that team and brought in people who actually want to play hard-nosed basketball. Jalen Rose, Jamal Crawford, Eddie Robinson, Marcus Fizer have all gone bye-bye. He has made three superb draft picks in Kirk Hinrich(reminds me of John Stockon), Ben Gordon (the guy can score!), and Luol Deng(never stops moving). And finally Eddy Curry (contract year) is playing like how people imagined he could. This team has a young nucleus and will only get better. The Eastern Conference is so bad, I think they have a chance to be the 4th of 5th seed by the end of the season. You heard it here first folks.
Alright I’m Out!
The other night I was doing some jogging on the treadmill, in the work-out room in my building. In the work-out room we have one TV. So whoever is in the room first has control over the TV. At times this can turn into a huge problem. I can get stuck watching some really bad crap for a while, like Gillmore Girls or some cheesy Lifetime movie. Whenever I have control over the TV, I try to put something on that would interest everybody. Like a football or basketball game. When I entered the work-out room I saw an older lady working out. I thought to myself “Shit! What the hell does she have on?” I look up at the TV and the woman has “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” on the tube. Let me just say its annoying enough to be jogging 3 miles and burned out after a long day of work. But it is even worse to watch these overly flamboyant, so-called men critique some dude as he shaves naked in the bathroom, By the end of the work-out, I felt like Richard Simmons sweatin’ to the oldies. I think the damn “Queer Show hypnotized me. Because right after I was done jogging, I did some squats and lunges to tighten up my ass.
The other day I waddled over to one of my favorite places, Chilpote. Many people at Chilpote always order a burrito or tacos. These people are unaware of the best item on the menu: The Burrito Bowl. A burrito bowl is basically everything you have in a burrito, but without the tortilla. It is served in a bowl and makes a scrumptious and delicious rice concoction. But before you order this dish there are a few rules you have to know.
1. Ask for extra rice, when they are filling your bowl with rice. This increases the portion size of your burrito bowl with not extra cost. But it is imperative that you ask for the extra rice after they have given your standard 2 scoops of rice.
2. When it comes to the meat part, do not be afraid to ask for double meat. So it is very possible that you could be eating your burrito bowl with not only chicken, but some steak in there also. (The fat kid alarm is going off now!)
3. Finally, I do not want to take credit for this because I did not come up with it. But an un-named source figured out that after your rice bowl is made, ask for a tortilla on the side. Now you can use this tortilla to either eat on the side as bread, or put some of the rice bowl ingredients on it. This is totally your own discretion. If you are a female it is crucial that you ask the male Chilpote worker for the tortilla. If you are a male, you ask the female Chilpote worker. And if you are ugly, just flip a coin.
Moving on, many people are asking me my thoughts on the Brad Pitt and Jennifer Anniston break-up. Well, lets start off by saying both these people appear to be extremely good looking, so they will have no trouble finding anybody else. So people, lets stop with this whining over there split. To all those rumors that the reason Brad split from Jen is because he wanted a baby, but Jen did not want one is complete bull. Brad Pitt could give a rat’s ass if he has a kid or not. I’ll fill you in on what happened. One day Brad Pitt woke up and realized he was Brad Pitt. He realized that he was filming a movie with Angelina Jolie, and that he could get her (probably aleady did) and anybody else he wants. Hell, he could probably even get me if he tried hard enough. He realized that his wife Jennifer, 34, is not getting any younger. Hence, is why the split happened. Don't get me wrong, Jennifer Anniston is an amazing looking woman. I would probably give my left arm to be a in the same room as that woman. Okay maybe I’m exaggerating a little bit here, I would give my right arm since I’m a lefty. Get your head out of the gutter, I know what you are thinking.
WARNING:To all you non-sport fans, this last rant will bore the crap out of you.
How about my Chicago Bulls? Have you seen how they are playing? They have won five in a row and have one of the best records in the NBA for January. Most of the credit has to go to Coach Scott Skiles and GM John Paxson. Skiles has done an amazing job coaching this team and has actually taught them how to play defense. John Paxson has gotten rid of all that crap on all that team and brought in people who actually want to play hard-nosed basketball. Jalen Rose, Jamal Crawford, Eddie Robinson, Marcus Fizer have all gone bye-bye. He has made three superb draft picks in Kirk Hinrich(reminds me of John Stockon), Ben Gordon (the guy can score!), and Luol Deng(never stops moving). And finally Eddy Curry (contract year) is playing like how people imagined he could. This team has a young nucleus and will only get better. The Eastern Conference is so bad, I think they have a chance to be the 4th of 5th seed by the end of the season. You heard it here first folks.
Alright I’m Out!
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Can you spare a square? I can!
So I head over to Target the other day. The main reason I went there is to get the microwavable Campbell's Soup bowls. I usually eat 3 or 4 of these at work on a weekly basis. I go for the chicken noodle ones or chicken & pasta. I am a not a big fan of the beef or steak ones. The microwavable soups really save me. Around 12:00 is usually our lunch time, but at around 10a-11a I am just starving. And the soup does its best to hold me over till lunch. It is also not that fattening either, which is good when you have the eating capacity of a manatee(A big fat 1,000 pound mammal that lives under water.) The grocery stores around the city sell these soups at high prices, but Target prices them a lot cheaper. So I walk in to Target and of course they were cleaned out, nowhere to be seen. But fortunately there were some other things I needed to get. One of those items was toilet paper. Yes people, the big secret is out! Jonno does go #2. I apologize to all of my fans who thought differently. Now the question is, when the hell did Target turn into Sam's Club? Because all the toilet paper I saw was being sold in these huge mega 24-36 packs. I don't know about you, but whenever I see people wheeling around these huge packs of toilet paper, I always notice it and chuckle a little to myself. I know its immature, but I can't help it. So there was no way I was carrying a 36-pack toilet paper. The smallest I could find was a 12-pack and it still seemed a little to much for me. I just figured to myself, "What the hell? Who am I trying to impress?" Its not like I'll find Salma Hayek strolling around here. So I toughed it up and got the damn toilet paper. Oh and by the way, I did catch some kids staring at me and my 12-pack.
So after work, I headed back to my apartment building. One of negatives of living in an apartment building is that whatever you bring back people see. The doorman, people in the lobby, or even people in the elevator. Its not like I'm smuggling midgets or anything, but I like to have some privacy. I take the big thing of toilet paper out of my car. Of course its not in a bag because it's too damn big! I mean I might as well have a sign on my back that reads "Look everybody, I can poop!" I walk into my building and instantly get a few stares. But now its time for the awkward elevator ride. I step in the elevator, ready to go up, and there I see an attractive girl in the elevator.(Worst-case scenario!) So Schmuko(me!) comes stumbling in the elevator with my over-sized pack of toilet paper. And I don't think she was impressed. You knowI don't blame here. If I saw a decent looking girl hauling an obscene amount of toilet paper, I would be like "What the hell also?" So I totally understand her reaction. The thing I dont understand is, why could it of been one of the sixty-year-old ladies in the elevator? We have plenty of those in my building. If that was the case, I would not of given a rat's ass. Heck, I might of even offered the older lady a roll or two. But I guess moments like these are what makes the "Awkward Chronicles" so special.
I'm pooped out! (Hah-Hah) Get it??? Okay I'll stop.
So after work, I headed back to my apartment building. One of negatives of living in an apartment building is that whatever you bring back people see. The doorman, people in the lobby, or even people in the elevator. Its not like I'm smuggling midgets or anything, but I like to have some privacy. I take the big thing of toilet paper out of my car. Of course its not in a bag because it's too damn big! I mean I might as well have a sign on my back that reads "Look everybody, I can poop!" I walk into my building and instantly get a few stares. But now its time for the awkward elevator ride. I step in the elevator, ready to go up, and there I see an attractive girl in the elevator.(Worst-case scenario!) So Schmuko(me!) comes stumbling in the elevator with my over-sized pack of toilet paper. And I don't think she was impressed. You knowI don't blame here. If I saw a decent looking girl hauling an obscene amount of toilet paper, I would be like "What the hell also?" So I totally understand her reaction. The thing I dont understand is, why could it of been one of the sixty-year-old ladies in the elevator? We have plenty of those in my building. If that was the case, I would not of given a rat's ass. Heck, I might of even offered the older lady a roll or two. But I guess moments like these are what makes the "Awkward Chronicles" so special.
I'm pooped out! (Hah-Hah) Get it??? Okay I'll stop.
Sunday, January 02, 2005
Missing calzones, cleavage, locked out, and no taxis
I truly hope everyone had a fabulous, phenomenal New Year's Eve. (Honestly, I could give a rat's ass how it went.) But, I'll just say it to be nice.
As I walk down the street, waddle to the grocery store, pump gas, or even volunteer at the soup kitchen.(okay maybe an exaggeration) Everyone wants to know, "Hey Jonno, how did your New Year's Eve go? Settle down, I 'll tell ya. I had a good time alright. It was great to hang out with some of my good friends that I do not get to see that often. I know at least some of you are thinking, "Hey Jonno, you have friends????" Well, good question. I mean they know my name and sometimes hang out with me. But hey, who the hell knows? Maybe it's like "The Truman Show" where they are paid actors to like me. Anyways, let's move on.
So we went to this bar in Wrigleyville for a party. It was all you can drink from 8-2 for $85. So I stragetically found a spot right in front of the bar. I knew as time went on this spot would be valuable property, so it was crucial that I did not lose it. I ordered my first kettle one & tonic and chatted with some people.
As I glanced to the right, my fat kid alarm went off. I saw one of the bar tenders putting out food in the corner. I knew there would be food at the party, but I was curious as to what the food would be. At the same time, you don't want to be the first fatso who gets the food and everyone notices it and ask questions. "What is that? Where did you get that from? Is it good? That looks good. You must be hungry." To avoid all these annoyances I waited for some other people to get some food and then made my move. As I waddled over to the table I saw a nice spread of different kinds of calzones. They had "The works, itailain beef, sausage, chicken parmsean, poor boy, and vegetarian. I chose the chicken parmesean calzone and was very pleased with the results. So I'm eating my calzone and talking. I then realized I was not paying enough attention to my beverage. So put my plate down on the bar and drank a little bit. As I turned back around to reunite with my calzone, it was gone. I mean it was only like 2 minutes that I left it alone. I don't know if somebody else ate it, or the bartender threw it away. Whatever the case was, I was not pleased. I mean it took a lot of work to walk through the crowds of people, get the calozne, walk back through the crowds of people, and then try to regain my strategic position at the bar. If the person who ate my chicken parmesean calzone is reading this right now, all I can say is that you are not a good person. Eventually, I did make it back to the calzone table and tried the poor boy. And it was not as good as my lost chicken parmesean calzone.
Alright I am far from a pervert, and please nobody take this the wrong way. But what the heck was with all the cleavage coming out at me at all angles. In front of me the bartender was showing it, then to the right of me I got major cleavage staring at me, and then to my left it was peeking at me. As Seinfeld once said, " Cleavage is very similar to the sun. You take a peek, and then you got to look away." Ladies, I am very happy for you that you are well endowed, but enough of the teasing. I can only take so much.
When you are standing in the same position for a while, you really have no idea how much alcohol you've hand until you walk around. I headed over to the restroom to urinate and saw a line. There were only three bathrooms and two of them were for the females. The men's bathroom only had a one urnel and one toilet. So after standing in line for a while, and figuring that whoever was in the bathroom was not coming out. I brainstormed some other ideas. I looked around and saw an exit door. I thought I remembered seeing people coming in through the exit door, as I was waiting in line. I then preceded to walk through the exit door and take care of business. I then tried to get back in through the door, but it was locked. I thought to myself, "This can't be good." Then I figured, maybe I can go back through the front. No dice, I was fenced in. I then decided to go for the "repeated panic knock" and banged on the door. A few moments later, one of the bartenders opened the door. He was not pleased with me. He asked me what I was doing out there, and I flat out told him. I think he was going to kick me out. After some desperate apologizing on my part, he let me back in. But boy, that was a close one. Looking back, I should of told him that I had to make a phone call and it was too loud inside. That would of sounded better. But I can never be that spontaneously slick. (Read "Schmucko's Big Debut" blog if you need evidence.)
As the night wound down, it was time to head out . After getting through the circus that was outside, myself and two of my buddies Nick(on a sidenote, had some fantastic banter with the bartender) and Drew needed to find a cab. I vaguely remember there being some other people walking with us. After seeing how many people were waiting for a cab, I thought it would be a good idea to walk a little bit and get away from the crowds. About ten minutes later, we were able to find a cab. I don't how, but we did. The people that were walking with us were gone. So the three of us got in the cab. After a night of drinking, and without company, there was only one thing left on our minds: FOOD. In the cab, Nick started to hassle the cab driver if he knew any places, where we could get any food. Because the cab driver did not know much English, we did not get any results. So as we passed by a hot dog stand, the fat kid alarm went off again and I told the cab driver to stop here. I knew in the back of my mind this would be a mistake, since it was so difficult to find this cab. But at this point, food was more important. So we went in and got some food to go.
I don't remember what street we were on, but I made the executive decision to walk until we could get a cab. Every cab that would go by, was occupied. After about five cabs, I knew we were in trouble. Oh and it was extremely cold outside, and none of us had coats on. We decided to then eat the food as we walked. I remember my hot dog tasting very good. Every cab that went by I would hold up my arm, even though I knew it was taken. It was really a helpless feeling, to be freezing cold and not being able to find a vacant cab. It never crossed my drunken brain to maybe walk down a different street. That probably would of been a decent idea. As we were walking, there was this guy wearing a white t-shirt, spazzing out, and trying to pick fights. Being frustrated about freezing and not finding a cab, I don't remember what, but I said something to the guy. Not really realizing that this guy could easily unload on me and beat my ass. Nick also starting saying stuff to the white shirt guy. But fortunately, Drew had enough sense to tell us to walk away. We continued to walk and still no vacant cabs. Honestly, I had no idea where we were, but I just knew what direction we had to walk. After maybe 20-30 minutes, we finally found a cab and called it a night.
Wow! I'm out!
As I walk down the street, waddle to the grocery store, pump gas, or even volunteer at the soup kitchen.(okay maybe an exaggeration) Everyone wants to know, "Hey Jonno, how did your New Year's Eve go? Settle down, I 'll tell ya. I had a good time alright. It was great to hang out with some of my good friends that I do not get to see that often. I know at least some of you are thinking, "Hey Jonno, you have friends????" Well, good question. I mean they know my name and sometimes hang out with me. But hey, who the hell knows? Maybe it's like "The Truman Show" where they are paid actors to like me. Anyways, let's move on.
So we went to this bar in Wrigleyville for a party. It was all you can drink from 8-2 for $85. So I stragetically found a spot right in front of the bar. I knew as time went on this spot would be valuable property, so it was crucial that I did not lose it. I ordered my first kettle one & tonic and chatted with some people.
As I glanced to the right, my fat kid alarm went off. I saw one of the bar tenders putting out food in the corner. I knew there would be food at the party, but I was curious as to what the food would be. At the same time, you don't want to be the first fatso who gets the food and everyone notices it and ask questions. "What is that? Where did you get that from? Is it good? That looks good. You must be hungry." To avoid all these annoyances I waited for some other people to get some food and then made my move. As I waddled over to the table I saw a nice spread of different kinds of calzones. They had "The works, itailain beef, sausage, chicken parmsean, poor boy, and vegetarian. I chose the chicken parmesean calzone and was very pleased with the results. So I'm eating my calzone and talking. I then realized I was not paying enough attention to my beverage. So put my plate down on the bar and drank a little bit. As I turned back around to reunite with my calzone, it was gone. I mean it was only like 2 minutes that I left it alone. I don't know if somebody else ate it, or the bartender threw it away. Whatever the case was, I was not pleased. I mean it took a lot of work to walk through the crowds of people, get the calozne, walk back through the crowds of people, and then try to regain my strategic position at the bar. If the person who ate my chicken parmesean calzone is reading this right now, all I can say is that you are not a good person. Eventually, I did make it back to the calzone table and tried the poor boy. And it was not as good as my lost chicken parmesean calzone.
Alright I am far from a pervert, and please nobody take this the wrong way. But what the heck was with all the cleavage coming out at me at all angles. In front of me the bartender was showing it, then to the right of me I got major cleavage staring at me, and then to my left it was peeking at me. As Seinfeld once said, " Cleavage is very similar to the sun. You take a peek, and then you got to look away." Ladies, I am very happy for you that you are well endowed, but enough of the teasing. I can only take so much.
When you are standing in the same position for a while, you really have no idea how much alcohol you've hand until you walk around. I headed over to the restroom to urinate and saw a line. There were only three bathrooms and two of them were for the females. The men's bathroom only had a one urnel and one toilet. So after standing in line for a while, and figuring that whoever was in the bathroom was not coming out. I brainstormed some other ideas. I looked around and saw an exit door. I thought I remembered seeing people coming in through the exit door, as I was waiting in line. I then preceded to walk through the exit door and take care of business. I then tried to get back in through the door, but it was locked. I thought to myself, "This can't be good." Then I figured, maybe I can go back through the front. No dice, I was fenced in. I then decided to go for the "repeated panic knock" and banged on the door. A few moments later, one of the bartenders opened the door. He was not pleased with me. He asked me what I was doing out there, and I flat out told him. I think he was going to kick me out. After some desperate apologizing on my part, he let me back in. But boy, that was a close one. Looking back, I should of told him that I had to make a phone call and it was too loud inside. That would of sounded better. But I can never be that spontaneously slick. (Read "Schmucko's Big Debut" blog if you need evidence.)
As the night wound down, it was time to head out . After getting through the circus that was outside, myself and two of my buddies Nick(on a sidenote, had some fantastic banter with the bartender) and Drew needed to find a cab. I vaguely remember there being some other people walking with us. After seeing how many people were waiting for a cab, I thought it would be a good idea to walk a little bit and get away from the crowds. About ten minutes later, we were able to find a cab. I don't how, but we did. The people that were walking with us were gone. So the three of us got in the cab. After a night of drinking, and without company, there was only one thing left on our minds: FOOD. In the cab, Nick started to hassle the cab driver if he knew any places, where we could get any food. Because the cab driver did not know much English, we did not get any results. So as we passed by a hot dog stand, the fat kid alarm went off again and I told the cab driver to stop here. I knew in the back of my mind this would be a mistake, since it was so difficult to find this cab. But at this point, food was more important. So we went in and got some food to go.
I don't remember what street we were on, but I made the executive decision to walk until we could get a cab. Every cab that would go by, was occupied. After about five cabs, I knew we were in trouble. Oh and it was extremely cold outside, and none of us had coats on. We decided to then eat the food as we walked. I remember my hot dog tasting very good. Every cab that went by I would hold up my arm, even though I knew it was taken. It was really a helpless feeling, to be freezing cold and not being able to find a vacant cab. It never crossed my drunken brain to maybe walk down a different street. That probably would of been a decent idea. As we were walking, there was this guy wearing a white t-shirt, spazzing out, and trying to pick fights. Being frustrated about freezing and not finding a cab, I don't remember what, but I said something to the guy. Not really realizing that this guy could easily unload on me and beat my ass. Nick also starting saying stuff to the white shirt guy. But fortunately, Drew had enough sense to tell us to walk away. We continued to walk and still no vacant cabs. Honestly, I had no idea where we were, but I just knew what direction we had to walk. After maybe 20-30 minutes, we finally found a cab and called it a night.
Wow! I'm out!
Thursday, December 23, 2004
Meet the Retards
So Tuesday I was fortunate to see a private screening of "Meet the Fockers." Let me start out by saying I was huge fan of "Meet the Parents." I think the movie was a classic and one of Ben Stiller's best work. And yes even better than "Envy." (That was an awful movie that came out last year, starring Ben Stiller and Jack Black.) So I was looking forward to the sequel. The cast seemed intriguing with Dustin Hoffman and Barbara Streisand playing Stiller's parents. At the same time, I was a bit weary because history has shown sequels do not live up to the originals. And from the few previews I saw on TV, I could tell it was going to be a bit corny. Was I right? (Uhhhh Yeah!)
The main premise of the movie is Ben Stiller and his wife(who the hell knows her real name?) travel in a highly technological enhanced winnebago with her parents (Robert Deniro and who the hell knows her real name?) to meet the Fockers at their Florida estate. Oh and I forgot about another new member of the cast. Robert Deniro's is babysitting his grandson for his other daughter. And let me tell ya this darn baby steals this movie. Well, at least that is what the writer's of the movie were hoping. I swear 80% of the jokes of this film, were centered around this darn baby. Who probably only made me grin once. Isn't it hillarious to see Robert Deniro have a fake plastic boob on his chest, so he can breast feed the baby? (I didn't think so either.) I mean, if I need to see a movie with a damn baby supplying all the jokes I'll go rent the "Look Who's Talking" trilogy.
All the same jokes from "Meet the Parents" are pretty much re-done in "Meet the Retards." Which makes most of the jokes very predictable. When we finally meet the Fockers they are portrayed as these sexually extroverted hippies. Dustin Hoffman is a retired lawyer, who practices some type of karate. And Barbara Streisand is a sexual therapist for older couples. (Uh oh, I think I see a storyline here.) Because Streisand is such an expert with her sexuality, is she going to try and help Robert Deniro and his wife with their sex life. (Oh yeah, this did happen in the movie.) You see, now I am confused here. How can the supposedly tightly wound-up, nervous, shy Ben Stiller have such free-sprited, crazy and cool parents? Wouldn't you think his parents would be the total opposite, from seeing his character in "Meet the Parents." If there this laid back and wacky, wouldn't Stiller have these same qualities?
Just as in the first movie where Deniro hooked Stiller up to the lie detector, there is a similar scene in this film. After finding out that Stiller lost his virginity to his Hispanic housekeeper 15 years ago, Deniro suspects they had a child together. Because the housekeeper's son looks exactly like Stiller. (Oooooh, this sounds exciting?) So Deniro injects Stiller with a needle that will force him to tell the truth. At this point I thought to myself, why don't they bring Maury Povich out here to find the real father of this child?
So as you can see. I was not a fan of "Meet the Retards." I found it to be extremely boring, cheezey, and corny. Just be happy that you saw the first one and enjoyed it. But if you are ever in the mood to see a movie that has bad sex jokes, a not funny over-used baby, and a Maury Povich paternity test, then maybe you will enjoy this. I'm out!
The main premise of the movie is Ben Stiller and his wife(who the hell knows her real name?) travel in a highly technological enhanced winnebago with her parents (Robert Deniro and who the hell knows her real name?) to meet the Fockers at their Florida estate. Oh and I forgot about another new member of the cast. Robert Deniro's is babysitting his grandson for his other daughter. And let me tell ya this darn baby steals this movie. Well, at least that is what the writer's of the movie were hoping. I swear 80% of the jokes of this film, were centered around this darn baby. Who probably only made me grin once. Isn't it hillarious to see Robert Deniro have a fake plastic boob on his chest, so he can breast feed the baby? (I didn't think so either.) I mean, if I need to see a movie with a damn baby supplying all the jokes I'll go rent the "Look Who's Talking" trilogy.
All the same jokes from "Meet the Parents" are pretty much re-done in "Meet the Retards." Which makes most of the jokes very predictable. When we finally meet the Fockers they are portrayed as these sexually extroverted hippies. Dustin Hoffman is a retired lawyer, who practices some type of karate. And Barbara Streisand is a sexual therapist for older couples. (Uh oh, I think I see a storyline here.) Because Streisand is such an expert with her sexuality, is she going to try and help Robert Deniro and his wife with their sex life. (Oh yeah, this did happen in the movie.) You see, now I am confused here. How can the supposedly tightly wound-up, nervous, shy Ben Stiller have such free-sprited, crazy and cool parents? Wouldn't you think his parents would be the total opposite, from seeing his character in "Meet the Parents." If there this laid back and wacky, wouldn't Stiller have these same qualities?
Just as in the first movie where Deniro hooked Stiller up to the lie detector, there is a similar scene in this film. After finding out that Stiller lost his virginity to his Hispanic housekeeper 15 years ago, Deniro suspects they had a child together. Because the housekeeper's son looks exactly like Stiller. (Oooooh, this sounds exciting?) So Deniro injects Stiller with a needle that will force him to tell the truth. At this point I thought to myself, why don't they bring Maury Povich out here to find the real father of this child?
So as you can see. I was not a fan of "Meet the Retards." I found it to be extremely boring, cheezey, and corny. Just be happy that you saw the first one and enjoyed it. But if you are ever in the mood to see a movie that has bad sex jokes, a not funny over-used baby, and a Maury Povich paternity test, then maybe you will enjoy this. I'm out!
Monday, December 20, 2004
Schmuko's Big Debut
Alright here, I guess its time to blog it up! Hold on! Because here I go!
Yesterday was my big show debut for Second City. Currenty, I'm in the 3rd level of classes. The last week of the show you get to perform a 17-minute show on the mainstage. Let me just say it was an honor to perform on the same stage where some of the best comedians in history have performed. That was cool! None of the stuff we performed were planned or written sketches. They were all improv games. Kind of like the stuff you see on the tv show "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" So the first game we did is called "freeze tag." This is where two people start off a scene and the rest of the class stands in a line behind them The two people perform a short scene and then somebody from the back-line yells "freeze." The person that yelled "freeze" taps one of the people out in the scene and takes their place in a new scene Then eventually somebody else from the backline will yell "freeze" and enter the scene. Hopefully I explained this accuarately enough, but knowing me I probably did not.
During "freeze tag" it was time for "schumko" (me!) to enter the scene. Usually you just do two scenes and then you go back into the line. But for some reason I was left out there for about three scenes. And let me tell ya, I performed like total crap for this game. I could not think of anything funny to say. I probably would of been funnier, just standing there not saying anything. In each scene I had a fresh new start. And do you want to know what I did with that fresh new start? I took it straight to the shitter. The best example: Was this one scene, where one of my classmates opened the scene with "Hey, you're wearing my shirt." Now this is a perfectly good line to open up a scene. There are many different avenues you can go with this line. For some odd reason I decided to reply "Well you know this shirt looks great on my breasts and ass." What in the f*** was I thinking? What the hell does that mean? And how is that funny? And why would I say the shirt looks good on my ass? The last time I did a scientific study, you wear pants on your ass, not shirts. So as you read this I'm sure you are thinking to yourself, "Wow this guy has a great comedy career ahead of him."
I was able to somewhat redeem myself during the "gibberish panel of experts game." This game is where you have three experts of a certain subject, and they speak gibberish. You have an english interpreter who stands behind each gibberish expert that explains word-for-word what the gibberish means. The audience asks questions to to the panel of gibberish of experts. For this game we were experets in child development. Fortunately, the game went a little better than "freeze tag." I have a unique sound to my gibberish. It's like a cross between a rabbi and the character "Borat" from the Ali G show. I have no idea where that came from. My buddy Mike did a very nice job of interpeting the gibberish in English. And Mike, that's probably how you got the groupie to come up to you after the show. (Inside joke there.)
So I guess folks, the lesson here is: If you are not funny, than do not perform on stage at Second City. And also, it's not funny to say your t-shirt looks good on your ass.
I'm Out!
Yesterday was my big show debut for Second City. Currenty, I'm in the 3rd level of classes. The last week of the show you get to perform a 17-minute show on the mainstage. Let me just say it was an honor to perform on the same stage where some of the best comedians in history have performed. That was cool! None of the stuff we performed were planned or written sketches. They were all improv games. Kind of like the stuff you see on the tv show "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" So the first game we did is called "freeze tag." This is where two people start off a scene and the rest of the class stands in a line behind them The two people perform a short scene and then somebody from the back-line yells "freeze." The person that yelled "freeze" taps one of the people out in the scene and takes their place in a new scene Then eventually somebody else from the backline will yell "freeze" and enter the scene. Hopefully I explained this accuarately enough, but knowing me I probably did not.
During "freeze tag" it was time for "schumko" (me!) to enter the scene. Usually you just do two scenes and then you go back into the line. But for some reason I was left out there for about three scenes. And let me tell ya, I performed like total crap for this game. I could not think of anything funny to say. I probably would of been funnier, just standing there not saying anything. In each scene I had a fresh new start. And do you want to know what I did with that fresh new start? I took it straight to the shitter. The best example: Was this one scene, where one of my classmates opened the scene with "Hey, you're wearing my shirt." Now this is a perfectly good line to open up a scene. There are many different avenues you can go with this line. For some odd reason I decided to reply "Well you know this shirt looks great on my breasts and ass." What in the f*** was I thinking? What the hell does that mean? And how is that funny? And why would I say the shirt looks good on my ass? The last time I did a scientific study, you wear pants on your ass, not shirts. So as you read this I'm sure you are thinking to yourself, "Wow this guy has a great comedy career ahead of him."
I was able to somewhat redeem myself during the "gibberish panel of experts game." This game is where you have three experts of a certain subject, and they speak gibberish. You have an english interpreter who stands behind each gibberish expert that explains word-for-word what the gibberish means. The audience asks questions to to the panel of gibberish of experts. For this game we were experets in child development. Fortunately, the game went a little better than "freeze tag." I have a unique sound to my gibberish. It's like a cross between a rabbi and the character "Borat" from the Ali G show. I have no idea where that came from. My buddy Mike did a very nice job of interpeting the gibberish in English. And Mike, that's probably how you got the groupie to come up to you after the show. (Inside joke there.)
So I guess folks, the lesson here is: If you are not funny, than do not perform on stage at Second City. And also, it's not funny to say your t-shirt looks good on your ass.
I'm Out!
Thursday, December 16, 2004
Working Overtime
Sorry, to all my devoted fans who have been waiting for another blog. But this week, is "hell week" at my office. I've been working every night till 11 or midnight. And this will continue until the end of the week. Don't worry, I still have plently of awkward tales to share. And Mike no need to sweat, the Springer Blog will be on its way. Damn I'm tired!
Friday, December 10, 2004
The Middle Finger
Yesterday, we had this annual huge broadcasting party at the Hilton in Chicago. The party is called the BAC. (Broadcasting Advertising Club) Its basically a night where everybody that works in the Chicago media industry gets obliterated. Overall, it was a decent time. It probably would of been better if I would of known more people there. Because all I really did was stand there like a jackass. But then again, I do that wherever I go. I was hanging around with two of my co-workers Johnny and Andrea. They both have been in this business for a while, so they had tons of people coming up to them. While, I just smiled and nodded my head like a friggin bobble-head doll. I learned from Andrea, that a big part of the BAC party is to try and accumulate as many tickets as possible. Each ticket is worth one alcoholic beverage of your choice from the bar. The way you get these tickets is by talking it up with these TV and radio sales reps. And usually by the end of the conversation the sales rep will hand you a ticket, or you just ask for one. The party started at 3:00 p.m. and lasted a little over three hours.
Next, it was time for the after parties. Comcast was throwing an after party at the Capitol Grille. On the way there in the cab, we were going North on Michigan Ave. and we drove passed the NBC Tower building. Whenever I pass by this building, I automatically register horrible memories from experience working at the Jerry Springer. (The Jerry Springer experience is for another blog) So as we were at a stop light in front of the NBC building. My intelligent self decided to stick my middle finger up and curse at the building. As I'm doing this, my friend Johnny begins to laugh. At first I thought he was laughing at me, but then I realized what I was doing was not that funny. So I asked him what is so funny? He's like when you were giving the finger to the NBC building, there was some guy standing outside in front and he thought you were giving the finger to him. I thought to myself, I truly am an idiot. But hey, I guess I was fortunate to not get my ass beat.
While, I was in the cab ride I also found out from Johnny that he got a call from "Fear Factor" during the party. They want him to be on a special edition episode of the show where they team up normal contestants with a celebrity. All I can say is that if this does happen, it will be the best hour of televison history. You will not find any better entertainment than Johnny and David Hasselhoff jumping together in a pile of elephant manure. Can't wait!
Anyways, we headed over to Capitol Grille for some drinks and food. I did my usual bobble-head act and talked with some people. The food was pretty good. They had some very scrumptious lamp chops and mini crab cakes. (Jon stop drooling!) After being there for a few more hours we headed over to Stanleys. Stanleys was packed to the max. It was barely walkable to get through that place. I usually don't mind over-crowded bars if I'm pretty hammered. But since I was not that drunk, it was a bit too much and after a hour I called it a night. That's all I got. I'm out!
Next, it was time for the after parties. Comcast was throwing an after party at the Capitol Grille. On the way there in the cab, we were going North on Michigan Ave. and we drove passed the NBC Tower building. Whenever I pass by this building, I automatically register horrible memories from experience working at the Jerry Springer. (The Jerry Springer experience is for another blog) So as we were at a stop light in front of the NBC building. My intelligent self decided to stick my middle finger up and curse at the building. As I'm doing this, my friend Johnny begins to laugh. At first I thought he was laughing at me, but then I realized what I was doing was not that funny. So I asked him what is so funny? He's like when you were giving the finger to the NBC building, there was some guy standing outside in front and he thought you were giving the finger to him. I thought to myself, I truly am an idiot. But hey, I guess I was fortunate to not get my ass beat.
While, I was in the cab ride I also found out from Johnny that he got a call from "Fear Factor" during the party. They want him to be on a special edition episode of the show where they team up normal contestants with a celebrity. All I can say is that if this does happen, it will be the best hour of televison history. You will not find any better entertainment than Johnny and David Hasselhoff jumping together in a pile of elephant manure. Can't wait!
Anyways, we headed over to Capitol Grille for some drinks and food. I did my usual bobble-head act and talked with some people. The food was pretty good. They had some very scrumptious lamp chops and mini crab cakes. (Jon stop drooling!) After being there for a few more hours we headed over to Stanleys. Stanleys was packed to the max. It was barely walkable to get through that place. I usually don't mind over-crowded bars if I'm pretty hammered. But since I was not that drunk, it was a bit too much and after a hour I called it a night. That's all I got. I'm out!
Sunday, December 05, 2004
The Honk
What up yo? For a change, I'm actually writing this blog at my apartment instead of at work. Maybe I can be more productive at work? Uhh . . . Probably not.
Yeah so get this. On Friday, I was driving home from work. Traffic was horribe, I was tired, and I really had to urinate. Understandably, I was not the most patient person in the world. I'm finally near my place and its a green-light, getting ready to make a right turn. But the walk signal is on, so people are crossing the street. A batch of 6-8 people cross the street, walking fairly quickly. About ten feet behind, is a middle-aged man maybe in his late fifties walking extremely slow. And when I say extremely slow, I mean the slowest I have ever seen somebody walk in my lifetime. It almost seemed like he was walking backwards. And it was not a slow walk, like I am deathly ill and I cannot walk any faster. If that was a case, I would of totally understood. It appeared this man was in some type of daze and had no idea that there were cars waiting to make a turn. So, because this man looked harmless, non-threatening, and I really had to pee. I decided to use my horn and give a little honk. Nothing too rude, just a little wake-up call. You know "Hey buddy, lets pick up the pace here." So this mysterious man stops walking, turns around, walks up my to my car with this wide-eye, scarey mean look. He screams on the top of his lungs, "ARE YOU HONKINGAT ME." I was in such shock, I did not know what to do. To defend my manlihood, I think I gave one of the of those hand movements without making eye contact "like get the the hell out of here." In reality I was pissing my pants and thought any moment this crazy lunatic could break my car window and snap my head off. I mean if you saw this man walking down the street, you would not think he was threatening in any way. But man, did he scare the shit out of me with the screaming and the look in his eyes. Because I live right down the street, where the honk incident occured. I figured for sure this mysterious man had to of seen me pull in to my building. When I parked my car and got out . . . Let's just say I made a quick dash into my building. So folks, I guess the lesson here is to be weary of you honk at. And mysterious/frightening man, I would like to apologize for honking at you. But damn, you walk slow!
Nice win for the Bears Today. Chad Hutchinson got his first start of the year and threw for 3 TD's/over 200 yards. My question is to Bears coaches: Why wasn't this guy signed before the season to back up Grossman, instead of Jonathan Quinn Medicine woman? Just something I was wondering.
On TBS late Saturday morning "Sleepless in Seattle" was on. Previously, I've only seen parts of the movie, but after watching it the whole way through. Not bad at all. A very well acted movie, with a good story. But chances are, if this happend in real life. The person that sent the letter to Tom Hanks, would not look like Meg Ryan. She would probably look more like Kathy Bates.
To all you tuna lovers out there. When I waddled to the grocery store last weekened. I bought six cans of star fish tuna for 79 cents each. I made sure the tuna was in water, and not in oil. Becuase I already made that mistake before. But evidently, the tuna I got was tuna light in water. Instead of getting the normal white tuna in water. And let me tell ya, the light tuna is pretty darn gross. So if you know anybody that wants five cans of star fish light tuna in water let me know. Because I give up.
Alright, I got to get ready for a big week of work. But before I go I would like to give a shout-out to my main-man Johnny and wish him a happy birthday. Your Hooters lunch, is coming bro. I'm out!
Yeah so get this. On Friday, I was driving home from work. Traffic was horribe, I was tired, and I really had to urinate. Understandably, I was not the most patient person in the world. I'm finally near my place and its a green-light, getting ready to make a right turn. But the walk signal is on, so people are crossing the street. A batch of 6-8 people cross the street, walking fairly quickly. About ten feet behind, is a middle-aged man maybe in his late fifties walking extremely slow. And when I say extremely slow, I mean the slowest I have ever seen somebody walk in my lifetime. It almost seemed like he was walking backwards. And it was not a slow walk, like I am deathly ill and I cannot walk any faster. If that was a case, I would of totally understood. It appeared this man was in some type of daze and had no idea that there were cars waiting to make a turn. So, because this man looked harmless, non-threatening, and I really had to pee. I decided to use my horn and give a little honk. Nothing too rude, just a little wake-up call. You know "Hey buddy, lets pick up the pace here." So this mysterious man stops walking, turns around, walks up my to my car with this wide-eye, scarey mean look. He screams on the top of his lungs, "ARE YOU HONKINGAT ME." I was in such shock, I did not know what to do. To defend my manlihood, I think I gave one of the of those hand movements without making eye contact "like get the the hell out of here." In reality I was pissing my pants and thought any moment this crazy lunatic could break my car window and snap my head off. I mean if you saw this man walking down the street, you would not think he was threatening in any way. But man, did he scare the shit out of me with the screaming and the look in his eyes. Because I live right down the street, where the honk incident occured. I figured for sure this mysterious man had to of seen me pull in to my building. When I parked my car and got out . . . Let's just say I made a quick dash into my building. So folks, I guess the lesson here is to be weary of you honk at. And mysterious/frightening man, I would like to apologize for honking at you. But damn, you walk slow!
Nice win for the Bears Today. Chad Hutchinson got his first start of the year and threw for 3 TD's/over 200 yards. My question is to Bears coaches: Why wasn't this guy signed before the season to back up Grossman, instead of Jonathan Quinn Medicine woman? Just something I was wondering.
On TBS late Saturday morning "Sleepless in Seattle" was on. Previously, I've only seen parts of the movie, but after watching it the whole way through. Not bad at all. A very well acted movie, with a good story. But chances are, if this happend in real life. The person that sent the letter to Tom Hanks, would not look like Meg Ryan. She would probably look more like Kathy Bates.
To all you tuna lovers out there. When I waddled to the grocery store last weekened. I bought six cans of star fish tuna for 79 cents each. I made sure the tuna was in water, and not in oil. Becuase I already made that mistake before. But evidently, the tuna I got was tuna light in water. Instead of getting the normal white tuna in water. And let me tell ya, the light tuna is pretty darn gross. So if you know anybody that wants five cans of star fish light tuna in water let me know. Because I give up.
Alright, I got to get ready for a big week of work. But before I go I would like to give a shout-out to my main-man Johnny and wish him a happy birthday. Your Hooters lunch, is coming bro. I'm out!
Friday, December 03, 2004
Food is fun
Sorry to all my fans, who have been waiting desperately for my blog. It's been a combination of trying to catch up at work and not really having anything to talk about. Because I don't know what to start my post with, let's talk about the good food I ate this week.
On Wednesday, PAX/NBC brought a huge spread of Maggiano's for lunch. Some of the perks of working in the media industry. I had some phenomenal calamari, chopped salad, and chicken parmesean. I strongly believe that there is no better chopped salad than Maggiano's. Feel free to tell me if you can think of a better chopped salad????????? Yeah exactly, thats what I thought. You got nothing.
Yesterday Mel Karamazin's son Craig took Johnny and I out to lunch. Craig owns ESPN radio in Milwaukee and he has his own show there. For anybody who doesn't know Mel Karmazin, I'll fill you in. Mel was the president of radio for Viacom for many years, and now he is the Presdient of Sirius Radio. He has been Howard Stern's boss for over 20 years, and remains a close friend of Howard's. For anybody who doesn't know I a die-hard fan of Howard Stern. I've listen to him since I was a freshman of High School. Put all the raunchiness, sex, and strippers aside I just think Howard Stern is one of the most comedically talented people in entertainment history. There are not many people that can consistently make me laugh every single morning. That is not an easy task. So anyways, now that I know Craig Karmazin I feel there is a possibilty that I could one day meet the one and only Howard Stern. It won't be easy, but with the help of my friend Johnny and his magical talents I think it will happen.
My quick thought on the Barry Bonds/Jason Giambi steriods fiasco. Yes I know its not good for baseball and the sports industry that players are using illegal drug enhancements. Yes I know that will have an affect in the homerun record books. But come on people, are you that shocked that these players have admitted to taking Steroids? Have you seen the size of these people? Do you realize there are probably hundreds of other players in baseball and other sports probably taking some illegal substances? Listen, it is there job to be the best and most productive athletes in sports. Which makes them do whatever they have to do achieve that goal. Which, is why I am not totally shock nor want to chop the heads off of Bonds/Giambi for taking steroids. So media, can please settle down with this overwhelming coverage of this story. There are worse things going on in the world.
Not sure what is going on this weekend for me. We will play it by ear. I do know that on Saturday, I'm collaborating with some of my comedy writing/improv classmates. There are rumblings of possibly of starting a cable access show. Where we would be able to write and perform some of our sketch comedy. If this does happen it would be a great experience. Will see!
Alright, that's all for now. Got to get back to work here. H.A.K.A.S.! (For you non-cool people out there, this means "Have A Kick Ass Summer.") People would write that when they signed my Junior High yearbooks. Thinking back now, that is really stupid people actually thought that was cool.
I'm out!
On Wednesday, PAX/NBC brought a huge spread of Maggiano's for lunch. Some of the perks of working in the media industry. I had some phenomenal calamari, chopped salad, and chicken parmesean. I strongly believe that there is no better chopped salad than Maggiano's. Feel free to tell me if you can think of a better chopped salad????????? Yeah exactly, thats what I thought. You got nothing.
Yesterday Mel Karamazin's son Craig took Johnny and I out to lunch. Craig owns ESPN radio in Milwaukee and he has his own show there. For anybody who doesn't know Mel Karmazin, I'll fill you in. Mel was the president of radio for Viacom for many years, and now he is the Presdient of Sirius Radio. He has been Howard Stern's boss for over 20 years, and remains a close friend of Howard's. For anybody who doesn't know I a die-hard fan of Howard Stern. I've listen to him since I was a freshman of High School. Put all the raunchiness, sex, and strippers aside I just think Howard Stern is one of the most comedically talented people in entertainment history. There are not many people that can consistently make me laugh every single morning. That is not an easy task. So anyways, now that I know Craig Karmazin I feel there is a possibilty that I could one day meet the one and only Howard Stern. It won't be easy, but with the help of my friend Johnny and his magical talents I think it will happen.
My quick thought on the Barry Bonds/Jason Giambi steriods fiasco. Yes I know its not good for baseball and the sports industry that players are using illegal drug enhancements. Yes I know that will have an affect in the homerun record books. But come on people, are you that shocked that these players have admitted to taking Steroids? Have you seen the size of these people? Do you realize there are probably hundreds of other players in baseball and other sports probably taking some illegal substances? Listen, it is there job to be the best and most productive athletes in sports. Which makes them do whatever they have to do achieve that goal. Which, is why I am not totally shock nor want to chop the heads off of Bonds/Giambi for taking steroids. So media, can please settle down with this overwhelming coverage of this story. There are worse things going on in the world.
Not sure what is going on this weekend for me. We will play it by ear. I do know that on Saturday, I'm collaborating with some of my comedy writing/improv classmates. There are rumblings of possibly of starting a cable access show. Where we would be able to write and perform some of our sketch comedy. If this does happen it would be a great experience. Will see!
Alright, that's all for now. Got to get back to work here. H.A.K.A.S.! (For you non-cool people out there, this means "Have A Kick Ass Summer.") People would write that when they signed my Junior High yearbooks. Thinking back now, that is really stupid people actually thought that was cool.
I'm out!
Monday, November 29, 2004
Welcome Back
Hey, what up? Long time, no blog. How was everybody's Thanksgiving? Mine was alright thanks for asking. Didn't really do a whole lot, just ate a lot of food. And my mother was generous enough to sufficate me with tons of leftovers to bring back to my apartment. She wanted to give me a 3/4 of chocolate cream pie, but my healthy concious told me that would be a bad idea. So I just took half of the pie instead.
I don't know if any of you have heard of a british TV show called "The Office." It is probably one of the funniest shows ever to be on television. I will admit some of the humor is hard to pick up because of the british accents. But the characters and especially the boss, are good for many laughs. The show was on for two seasons, but last year they did a special. And it finally came out on DVD last week. Of course it was extremely funny. But one of the surprising things about it was the romantic realtionship between two of the characters. And for a comedy show, it was a bit moving. Feel free to call me gay or a homo if you want. But I found it kind of moving. I didn't cry or anything like that. The last time I cried during a movie was probably when I was six, watching the first "Karate Kid." I hated seeing that blond-hair jock beat the crap out of Ralph Machio. But anyways, there was something about that episode of "The Office" that I could identify with. If you get me really drunk one night, maybe I'll explain.
On Sunday, I waddled over to the grocery store. I really find the grocery store very soothing and comforting . For a dude, I don't mind grocery shopping at all. Anyways, during the check-out process I always face the same darn problem. How to swipe the damn, stupid, friggin, credit card. I have probably done it hundred of times, but each time I can't figure out how to swipe the darn thing. I always have to get the cashier to help me out. People, can we please get one,standard way to swipe the credit card. I swear evey place makes you swipe your credit card a different way. At the gas station I have no problems. I was at Old Navy the other day no problems. Best Buy no problems. Target has the best swiper thing, where you just slide the whole credit card face up. I love that machine! But the damn grocery stores coufuse the crap out of me. And the picture they got on there, confuses me even more. They make you put your credit card in more positions than a Ron Jeremy/Jenna Jaminson porn. (Not that I would know.) I have never claimed to be the smartest person in the world, nor have I claimed to be the dumbest. But swiping the credit card is equal in difficulty to my brain as doing the second and third derivatives in Calculus. I have no idea why, but it just is. So people, I am begging for a consistent, uniform way to swipe. And until there is, I apologize for anybody that has to wait in line behind me at a grocery store. That's it folks.
I'm out!
I don't know if any of you have heard of a british TV show called "The Office." It is probably one of the funniest shows ever to be on television. I will admit some of the humor is hard to pick up because of the british accents. But the characters and especially the boss, are good for many laughs. The show was on for two seasons, but last year they did a special. And it finally came out on DVD last week. Of course it was extremely funny. But one of the surprising things about it was the romantic realtionship between two of the characters. And for a comedy show, it was a bit moving. Feel free to call me gay or a homo if you want. But I found it kind of moving. I didn't cry or anything like that. The last time I cried during a movie was probably when I was six, watching the first "Karate Kid." I hated seeing that blond-hair jock beat the crap out of Ralph Machio. But anyways, there was something about that episode of "The Office" that I could identify with. If you get me really drunk one night, maybe I'll explain.
On Sunday, I waddled over to the grocery store. I really find the grocery store very soothing and comforting . For a dude, I don't mind grocery shopping at all. Anyways, during the check-out process I always face the same darn problem. How to swipe the damn, stupid, friggin, credit card. I have probably done it hundred of times, but each time I can't figure out how to swipe the darn thing. I always have to get the cashier to help me out. People, can we please get one,standard way to swipe the credit card. I swear evey place makes you swipe your credit card a different way. At the gas station I have no problems. I was at Old Navy the other day no problems. Best Buy no problems. Target has the best swiper thing, where you just slide the whole credit card face up. I love that machine! But the damn grocery stores coufuse the crap out of me. And the picture they got on there, confuses me even more. They make you put your credit card in more positions than a Ron Jeremy/Jenna Jaminson porn. (Not that I would know.) I have never claimed to be the smartest person in the world, nor have I claimed to be the dumbest. But swiping the credit card is equal in difficulty to my brain as doing the second and third derivatives in Calculus. I have no idea why, but it just is. So people, I am begging for a consistent, uniform way to swipe. And until there is, I apologize for anybody that has to wait in line behind me at a grocery store. That's it folks.
I'm out!
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Thank God for Thanksgiving
Yo, what is going on? Big pick-up that this week is Thanksgiving. It is nice to have Thursday and Friday off. There will be a whole bunch of laziness going on, that's all I know. And there are also rumors that today may be an early/half day. I'll take whatever I can get.
Last night I made an interesting phone call. Talk to somebody I haven't talked to in months. The conversation went okay, but I felt there should of been some type of apology. And of course there wasn't. Oh well, who cares anyways?
Yesterday morning, I was taking my daily shower. When I got out there was water dripping from the ceiling. I thought to myself this can't be good. I thought maybe it was just a fluke incident. But it happened again this morning. Looks like my landlord will be getting a call soon. Although I'm not going to lie, the waterfall is a nice addition to the bathroom. It gives it a nice tropical feel.
Because I'm a sports fanatic many people are asking my take on the Pacers/Pistons/Fan Brawl. Well first of Ron Artest is insane, so you have to be near retarded to throw anything at him. That is why the Bulls got rid of him. And second of all basketball players should have more composure and professionalsim then to jump in the stands and attack fans. It was shocking and sickening to see players punching fans But lets face it people, us fans are pretty darn obnoxious. I'm not a professional athlete, but I can't tell you how many times I go to a sporting event and I am extremely annoyed and irritated by the stupid idiots that sit around me. Fans truly need to change how they act and sporting events. I know alcohol is a part of it, but I've had my share of drunken experiences at sporting events and never had the urge to act like a total jack ass. People just need to simply act more responsible.
I was at a show at Second City the other night. And I had these drunken bafoons sitting around acting like idiots. Talking during the show, yelling stuff out. And these people were in there late 30's, maybe early forties. During one of the skits, an actor was playing Ron Artest (as a joke) and one of the audience members threw a napkin at the stage. The audience member was quickly asked to leave. It was stupid for the guy to get kicked out, but again here is another example of people acting like jack asses. There is a reason why actors are on stage, and your dumb ass is in the audience so shut up. And when I'm in my thirties/forties getting drunk at a Second City show and yelling stuff out, somebody please slap the crap out of me.
Alright thats all I got. Have a good Thanksgiving for anybody who reads this. Well thats probably only going to be Johnny and Colleen. Oh and my sister, but I don't need to tell her that. I'm out.
Last night I made an interesting phone call. Talk to somebody I haven't talked to in months. The conversation went okay, but I felt there should of been some type of apology. And of course there wasn't. Oh well, who cares anyways?
Yesterday morning, I was taking my daily shower. When I got out there was water dripping from the ceiling. I thought to myself this can't be good. I thought maybe it was just a fluke incident. But it happened again this morning. Looks like my landlord will be getting a call soon. Although I'm not going to lie, the waterfall is a nice addition to the bathroom. It gives it a nice tropical feel.
Because I'm a sports fanatic many people are asking my take on the Pacers/Pistons/Fan Brawl. Well first of Ron Artest is insane, so you have to be near retarded to throw anything at him. That is why the Bulls got rid of him. And second of all basketball players should have more composure and professionalsim then to jump in the stands and attack fans. It was shocking and sickening to see players punching fans But lets face it people, us fans are pretty darn obnoxious. I'm not a professional athlete, but I can't tell you how many times I go to a sporting event and I am extremely annoyed and irritated by the stupid idiots that sit around me. Fans truly need to change how they act and sporting events. I know alcohol is a part of it, but I've had my share of drunken experiences at sporting events and never had the urge to act like a total jack ass. People just need to simply act more responsible.
I was at a show at Second City the other night. And I had these drunken bafoons sitting around acting like idiots. Talking during the show, yelling stuff out. And these people were in there late 30's, maybe early forties. During one of the skits, an actor was playing Ron Artest (as a joke) and one of the audience members threw a napkin at the stage. The audience member was quickly asked to leave. It was stupid for the guy to get kicked out, but again here is another example of people acting like jack asses. There is a reason why actors are on stage, and your dumb ass is in the audience so shut up. And when I'm in my thirties/forties getting drunk at a Second City show and yelling stuff out, somebody please slap the crap out of me.
Alright thats all I got. Have a good Thanksgiving for anybody who reads this. Well thats probably only going to be Johnny and Colleen. Oh and my sister, but I don't need to tell her that. I'm out.
Monday, November 22, 2004
Yo-Yo
After noticing a friend do this blog thing, I could not resist. I thought to myself what a great opportunity it would be to share my personal thoughts with millions of strangers. (Probably just my parents will read this.) Some of my postings will cover topics such as: food, sports, movies, TV, people, the world, and the misfortunes in my daily life. I will do my best to amuse and entertain. In most likelihood, I probably won't. Take care and please keep it real.
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