“Will my nano’s name be on a quilt?”

“Will my nano’s name be on a quilt?”

Yesterday, my iPod nano lost its battle against AIDS. Well, kind of…
In October 2005, AIDS Warrior & U2 front man, Bono announced a special edition red iPod during The Oprah Winfrey Show. This was part of the “Product RED” initiative aimed at battling AIDS. The special nano was priced at $199, with $10 of each sale going to the Global Fund to support AIDS programs in Africa.

Wow! 5%? Pretty charitable!

By the way, in case you missed it, Steve Jobs salary in 2010 was $1! He’s been paid $1 annually since returning to Apple in 1997. That’s a mere thirteen dollars! So let’s not bitch about the price of gas when Mr. Jobs is trying to make due with a little less than 3 sawbucks in a little over a decade.

“How does an iPod battle AIDS?” you ask? Dude, the technology is so fucking advanced man! But I have little doubt that putting my iPod in shuffle mode and stumbling upon DVDA’s “What Would Brian Boitano Do,” had more than a little to do with Magic Johnson’s remarkable cure.

Any way…back to my dead iPod.

Yesterday I decided to do some house cleaning. It has been a while. I put on my iPod (“Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson”) as is part of my ritual and I went to town. Everything went well and I made pretty decent time. Afterwards I figured I’d keep my clean streak going and do a quick load of laundry. As I put all of the clothes in the washer I noted mentally that we were out of laundry detergent. Seeing as I have been mentally “out of it” lately, I forgot to tell Julie, so hopefully she’s reading this.

With the laundry started, we attempted to watch Mad Men Season 1 on BluRay which Julie had never seen. The first disc was broken, so I have to return that today before the snowstorm comes through. I mean, if we’re going to be snowed in it’ll be with Donny D & the buxom redhead that haunts the halls (& men’s pants) of Sterling/Cooper.

Instead we settled on Coffee & Cigarettes, a Jim Jarmusch DVD I bought Julie about 3 Christmas’ ago. Roughly around the time I got the AIDS curing RED iPod nano. While watching the DVD we heard a loud sound coming from the laundry room. I was tired and decided without looking, that it was the washing machine. I thought it was possible it was an intruder, but if I looked I’d exert a lot of energy. It made more sense to conserve the energy in case I needed to go into attack mode. Perhaps I could use my iPod to give the intruder AIDS? Surely if it can cure it, it is capable of giving it too.

After Coffee & Cigarettes, which we never officially got through because Julie fell asleep, I went to put the wash in the dryer. I was nervous opening the door to the laundry room, because the intruder from earlier was likely folding clothes. I opened the door and lying on the ground was a box I had piled on other boxes next to the washing machine. Suddenly it made sense. The banging we heard was this box being shaken from its place on the pile and thrown to the floor, by the vibrations of the washing machine. I put the box back and was relieve to know I would likely not be raped and killed on this night. It is a nice feeling, I highly recommend it.

I emptied the wash into the dryer, making sure to remove all of Julie’s clothes that could shrink (which means ALL of Julie’s clothes). I have given up on drying them. I throw them in the opposite corner from my box collection. The get moldy & musty and then Julie has to rewash them. She has yet to figure out my ruse.

I throw the last pair of my hole-ridden socks into the dryer. At this point they look more like a half length leg warmer or as I call it “an ankle bra.” Its then I notice something else is in the washing machine. Something RED, that can cure AIDS and until very recently (the spin cycle I’d imagine) could play music.

My iPod nano.

“Will my nano’s name be on a quilt?” you ask. No. For 2 reasons: one, I never named it. If I had to now I’m thinking “Carlos the Dwarf” (anyone?). And two, it’s a piece of electronics, not a real person. Please! It did cure AIDS though, that part is true.

I’m sure I’ll get another iPod somewhere down the road and I’ll put all of my less than legally obtained music back on it. But for now, I’m bummed because I really was happy that $ went to AIDS research (even though I was the second owner of this iPod). I also just liked the color.

I had an incident this Autumn where the iPod’s earbuds got snagged while I was raking leaves. It somehow ended up getting thrown over the hill into my compost pile. I never would have found it if it hadn’t been a bright RED beacon just calling out to me. So I guess I am lucky to have gotten a few extra months to spend with it, before its AIDS conquering came to an end.

I’ll miss you Carlos the Dwarf.
2007-2011

Oh and I forgot to mention this earlier, thirteendollarsaire Steve Jobs owns 5.5 million shares of Apple, Inc. stock valued at $333 per share. That’s 1.8 billion in case you don’t feel like doing the math.

I’ll concede that 5% of 1.8 billion dollars probably wouldn’t cure AIDS, but it’s damn sure enough to replace my fucking iPod

Something Better Might Come Along

Something Better Might Come Along

Movers & Shakers.  I hate that phrase.  Mostly because I don’t think a “mover” & a “shaker” are the same thing.  They often get grouped together.  But a “mover” to me, is a person who is in a deliberate motion.  They know what they want, even if they aren’t sure how to get it.  They put their head down and bully ahead.  A “shaker” seems to be someone who has no direction in every sense of the word.  They might be in motion, but their feet are planted to the ground.

I was once a shaker.  But I have worked hard to turn myself into a mover.  Both creatively & socially, I have put an awful lot of miles on my car and my body in recent years.  I might not be the guy who jumps in his car and treks to New York to see a band  I have only heard a song or two from, but I did take Julie to see Belle & Sebastian in D.C. this Autumn (I only know 1 or 2 of their songs).

At some point I realized the only way I will do things in this life is if “I” do things.  I have appointed myself the “head of fun and games” in my life.  And, whether they like it or not, my friends lives too.  I try to include others.  Too many others, which is usually the death knell for a good time occurring in the first place.  Not to say my friends aren’t awesome, they absolutely are!  It’s just sometimes they are unmotivated cunts. 

And again, not all of them (like the ones reading this blog…tee hee!).  It’s just hard to get people to commit.

It’s what I call the “something better might come along” mentality.

If you send an Evite out to 100 people, 10 will undoubtedly answer within the first 24 hours.  Even if their answer is “no,” they at least let on their intentions.  Even a “maybe” or two indicates a personal message of “you are on my radar.”  That’s nice.  I can buy food and alcohol around that mentality.  After 2 days you’ll likely have another 5 answers.  2 days after that maybe another 5…this where things start to fall off.  After a week, if you’re lucky, you might have the intentions of 25% of your invitees.  So, what’s with the other 75%?

It’s possible a large percentage of them might have simply forgot, but 75% of them? 

It’s also possible a large percentage of them haven’t checked their email, but again, 75% in a technologically controlled world?  Seems a bit…skewed.

More than likely they are thinking, “something better might come along.” 

But it won’t.  How do I know?  Because you’re a loser.  Don’t believe me?  Let’s look back at the last month, hell even the last year!  What did you do that was noteworthy?

“I went to the beach.”

Great!  Have fun with that skin cancer buddy!  And it’s the dead of winter, so unless you’re hopping a Cessna, I think you’re shit out of luck there fella.

“I saw a movie.”

Really?  Which one?

“I don’t remember…you were there…it was Christmas Day.”

Right.  It was My Girl and that was in the 90s.

“Well, I would have to get a babysitter.”

Wow.  What a drag.  But this is a party.  It’s not like you need a sitter so you can go to the doctor to treat the previously mentioned skin cancer.

“We’ll see.”

Sweet, our very own peek-a-boo!  You do remember how to have fun right?  I mean I assume so seeing as you have a kid you need to get a sitter for in the first place.

“I don’t like you.”

Hey, fair enough.  Honesty is great.  So why couldn’t you have checked “no” in the first place?  I don’t even need a reason, just give me an answer.

When I was in High School, I used to film stuff with my video camera.  Skits & the such.  Word (and videos) got around school (not those types of videos).  People started coming up to me and saying, “Let me know if you ever need someone to film.”  I would call on them a week later.  They were busy.  Again another week later.  Busy.  A month later.  Can’t do it.  So you don’t actually want to put forth effort, you just want the end result, is that it?  I’m down with that dude.  It’s why I’ve stopped eating all together and have taken up just throwing food directly into the shitter.  Eff that middle mad crud.

So my new year’s resolution is to do more with less.  Rather than try and plan the big outings, I’ll just plan for 2.

-I have been trying to get a group to go out and ride a mechanical bull for the past 5 years.  2011 – I’ll do it and Julie can tell the tale.

-I was thinking about putting together a big bowling tournament similar to one my brother Erick did right out of High School.  2011 – I’ll go bowling with Erick.

-I always talk about getting a bunch of people to do something I have NEVER done before, visit the Statue of Liberty.  2011 – I’ll conquer the stone faced bitch!

Normally at this time of year, I’d send an email to around 10 people about going to see the Phillies opening day.  But rather than deal with the “no answer ‘no’s’”, the odd “no answer ‘yes’s’”, the “let me get back to you when tickets are impossible to come by’s” and the “probably, but you front the money and I’ll let you know’s,” I have told the wife to take off and acquired a mere 2 tickets. 

If you’re interested in going, I say GREAT!  Go ahead and buy yourself a ticket.  I hope to see you all there…

…But I’ll forgive you if something better comes along.

When the Blog becomes a Journal

I have been bless with a quick wit, but cursed with a terrible memory. Which means I’ll never remember the clever (or as my wife calls them “mean”) things attributed to me (“You told that AIDS joke last week”). I have a Swiss cheese memory that seems to be getting worse as I get older. My dear friend Gordon Wood Holmes III (I can remember his whole name) is cursed with the same affliction. We have joked that Gordon only has 5 stories he tells in rotation, because he doesn’t remember telling them. But what’s fascinating is he never misses a detail from those stories!

I forget the details. Quickly.

When people tell stories dating back only 3 or 4 years, that I was supposedly present for, I seriously wonder if they are completely making things up ("We sank a boat?").

Here we are starting 2011 and I couldn’t give you a top 10 moments that go back much further than October…maybe some EXTREME highlights from the summer, but virtually nothing from the Spring.

“Maybe I should keep a journal.”

I quickly dismissed this thought for many reasons, but mostly because I already have this blog. Unfortunately a blog is seldom a journal. People use them to talk politics, to rail about the clothes a celebrity wore to an awards show they shouldn't have been at in the first place or track everything they've eaten with the intent of cultivating a healthy diet and perhaps healthier discussion.

I have always used this blog to make fun of things...anything. But can I use it to record the mundane crap that goes on in my life?

Do you really want to know that yesterday I picked up a karaoke machine from Kerry’s basement which she told me has probably sat in flood waters for the past 2 years? That I got lost on tiny Marsh Rd while driving said water logged karaoke machine to Steve (GGTK)’s house (“I think you just drove by my house”)? That Steve and I discussed Kerryoke Five until about 10ish over shots of Danny Devito’s limoncello while Pam took down their Christmas Tree? That I realized I had a bag of Salt & Vinager potato ships in my trunk when I took the karaoke mahcine out, and ate them as a drove home to make my signature salad with vegetarian chicken? That I realized we were out of the hot sauce for the chicken, so I tried a habanera sauce that made the whole meal taste like paint thinner? That I ended up starting over from scratch? That Julie and I watch Sophia Coppala’s new film “Somewhere” starring Stephen Dorff which I aquired under less than "proper" means? Or that after the movie ended I tried to convince Julie to go upstairs to sleep, multiple times, only to wake her up on the couch this morning at 7am as she was late for work?

Is this the sort of stuff you would like to read about?

Well, get used to it.

I figure I have 3 or 4 people that read this blog about as consistently as I write it. Which is tough because how do I write "mean" things about them?

My hope is to write a bit more consistently in 2011. Sometimes about stuff that is hilariously funny. Sometimes about stuff that is horrifically boring. I'll leave it up to you to decide which is which.

OK. Now I’ll go get gas. Because my needle was on “E” this morning but I refused to stop at BP for fear that the recent dead birds & fish are their doing…

Old MySpace blog from 2008

I logged into MYSPACE for the first time in like a year. I went through some one blogs and found one from February 12, 2008. what better way to ring in the new year than to go back in time to a random date that doesn't mean a goddamn thing...
100 Blogs on Myspace

Well, I am coming up on my 100th blog on Myspace. Seems like more. I've probably erased or accidentially deleted at least twice as many.

3 blogs until 100. It's like finding a bottle with a genie in it and getting three wishes. Only these three wishes will likely be filled with much hate and little humor...and an AIDs joke or two sprinkled about (when I spell AIDS with a lower case "s" at the end, I can convince my wife I meant like a teaching AID--also she doesn't read inside parathesis--weird right?)

What shall I write about? A movie I recently saw (King of Kong) or a TV show I blasted through 2 seasons of in as many days (Extras) or perhaps a song I have been listening to on repeat for the past 3 weeks (Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots pt 1)?

Nah--

How about 4 quick news stories (with pictures of course):

1. "Pimpin' Out the First Daughter"

On Thursday's "Tucker" on MSNBC, David Shuster, who was serving as guest-host of the program, made a comment about Chelsea Clinton and the Clinton campaign that was irresponsible and inappropriate. Shuster, who apologized this morning on MSNBC and will again this evening, has been suspended from appearing on all NBC News broadcasts, other than to make his apology. He has also extended an apology to the Clinton family. NBC News takes these matters seriously, and offers our sincere regrets to the Clintons for the remarks.

Translation: "He said the Clinton's are Pimpin' out their daughter." The picture above begs the question, "Is she a righty or a lefty?" I meant which party does she allign herself with! Jeez...

2. "Blood on the Ice."

BUFFALO, N.Y. - Florida Panthers forward Richard Zednik lost five units of blood, but doctors never considered his life in jeopardy after the player had his carotid artery nearly severed by a teammate's skate in a freak and frightening accident.

I know what you're thinking...is that a Flyers Jersey? Nope...they just look very similar. Also, doctors were able to stop Zednik's bleeding...the Flyers are still in critical condition after this weekend.

3. "Hillary Lends Herself Money"

To help finance her campaign, Hillary lends her own money. She should keep it in a wallet like the rest of us. Wait...is that gold she's digging for? Salty!

4. "Roy Scheider Dies"

In sad news Chief Brody, who ran multiple sharks off the little island of Amity has died. He had gained quite a bit of weight in his later years, prompting the the Director at the Funeral Parlor to say, "We're going to need a bigger box."

Farewell and Adieu to you fair Spanish lady...I know you're somewhere smiling you son of a bitch.

Good night, God Bless and I forgot to tell an AIDs joke.

Keep Your Receipts

I could care less what language you speak or how well you speak it, as long we have a basic understanding of each other. If I’m on fire and you can relay that message to me without us being able to discuss why I felt The Tourist was a piece of crap in detail, that’s fine with me!

I live in the US, so I am used to people speaking or understanding English (or American?) but again, doesn’t matter to me one way or the other…with some obvious exceptions.

If I’m in an emergency room, in say…New York City. I’d like to believe, that the surgeon and I will have a basic understanding of each other. Sure he went to school to speak a language I will never comprehend (“give it to me in plain English doctor”), but I’d like to think when it comes to words such as…oh, I don’t know…maybe “amputate,” we both have a CRYSTAL clear understanding of what that word means. If he says “bandage” and I say, “works for me!” I’m going to be might pissed off, if I wake up forced to live out my days as a lefty!

There aren’t any other situations where I demand perfect communication…except concerning my FUCKING FOOD! I’m not talking about fast food. Let’s face it, it’s probably better that we don’t fully comprehend the transition in those establishments any way. After all, none of us wants to know what’s in the crap we’re eating at Taco Bell. I’m talking about restaurants of a more “upstanding” caliber.

Last night I was really in the mood for Italian. Some angel hair pasta with a light butter or even lemon sauce would have been nice. I NEVER get a hankering for Italian! Just doesn’t happen. Maybe it’s because I’m Irish. Maybe it’s because I dated a bombastic Italian chick in the past. No matter the case, it was a bit out of the ordinary…

..so Julie, Kerry & I end up at Harvest. Nothing Italian about it. In fact, not much in the way of a vegetarian to eat. “ALL of our food is organic.” Always strikes me as strange when the bulk of the menu is FUCKING DEAD!

But the wife deemed it as one of her favorite restaurants.

*Side note – I have never been to or even heard of this place before.

Harvest is an up scale restaurant in Glen Eagle. Everyone is dressed rather “fancy.” This also surprises me with regards to the lack of vegetarian options. I shouldn’t say there was nothing for a veggie to eat, there were like 2 or 3 meals to choose from. But in a hip establishment like this, I expect a little more selection than your run of the mill FRIDAY’s.

So we look over the menu and I immediately give up the idea of ordering Italian. I do see a goat cheese app for $5.00. That’s not bad at all! Keeping in mind the rest of the prices are a bit high. There’s a cheese platter app for $14.00. Julie is a full blown vegan so she’s not eating either of these dishes. But Kerry and I can split it. We decide to spend the nine additional dollars instead.

The waiter came over and tells us tonight’s specials. Not ONE of us understood a word he said. No big deal, as for the most part, I can’t do a special because they are normally meat dishes overstocked in the kitchen. They are trying to get rid of this “on the verge” RANCID MEAT! The waiter finishes by saying in his broken English, “All dishes are under 500 dollars unless otherwise noted.” He meant calories, not dollars. I had already read that in the menu.

We order, though he seems really confused by everything. Julie will say at one point later in the night, that he seemed really let down by everything we ordered and didn’t order. It’s important that I tell you he was NOT French.

When our food finally arrives we are given the goat cheese instead of the cheese tray. I told the waitress who brought the food (our waiter seemed to have disappeared, probably spitting in our entrées) that we ordered the cheese platter. She asked if we still wanted that or wanted it instead. Kerry & I were starving so I said this was fine but to make sure the cheese platter is removed from the bill as I don’t want to pay an additional nine bucks for something we aren’t getting. I know it’s gauche, but it’s my money so fuck you!

BLAH BLAH BLAH

The end of the night, the bill comes. I never looked to see if the mix up was rectified. I just look at the total which is $68 and some change. I pay with a credit gift card and tip with cash - over 20% which I had serious reservations doing, but I figure “what the hell” it’s the Christmas.

This morning, I go to you the card and am told I have insufficient funds.

I checked to see what happened to the card, thinking my math was off somewhere.

That little cunt charged my card $82 dollars, not the $68 that I actually signed for! That means he ended up with about a 40% tip when he earned just about a fourth of that.

Before you ask let me say these 2 things:

1. No I did not keep the receipt. I never keep the “customer copy.” So shame on me I suppose.

2. The fact that the additionally added amount was $14 was not lost on me.

Minor Surgery

I recently performed minor surgery in my cubical at work. It was a nice way to return from Christmas.

Sunday night, I was playing roughly with my cat, Mac. She has great control over her claws which keeps Julie & I from trimming them...EVER. Our other two cats (Lupin & Mia) are beasts whose nails are trimmed once every couple of weeks. The rule of thumb at our house is, if we can hear them "tick, tick ticking" across the hardwood floors, they need to be cut.

This is a good time to answer a question running through the minds of the non cat owners and, well the shitty cat owners. No they have NOT been declawed. For those of you unfamiliar with what declawing entails, take a look at your hand. Now imagine trimming your nails...by completely removing your finger to the first knuckle. There ya go champ. You've just been declawed.

Instead, Julie and I hold the cats down and trim their nails while they scream BLOODY MURDER! It's all a show. The cats are in no pain. However we are, as often times they scratch the shit out of us during the procedure. It's quite the bonding experience.

Sunday night, Mac reach out and nicked my finger. I quickly grabbed it and said, "It's not your fault." She stopped playing and cocked her head to the side indicating she knew she hurt me. I have never met an animal who could communicate as well as this cat. I repeated to her "it's not your fault," adding "I shouldn't have been playing so rough." At this point blood is everywhere, as a kitty can cut deep!

I cleaned it up and put a band-aid on, all while Mac supervised to make sure I was ok. I went downstairs and she followed me. She didn't leave my side until I went outside to shovel snow.

For some reason the new band aids we have aren't very good at covering a finger tip. They won't stay secured, especially in a snow glove. I have replaced the band aid 4 times in 2 days. That seems excessive. Today at work, I gave up on the band-aid all together. I'll bleed on my keyboard if I must.

A piece of skin was hanging from the cut and was annoying when I'd type, so I decided to remove it. I pulled it (which is never a wise medical technique) and the skin seemed to go on FOREVER. I figured if I continued it would have gone up my arm, under my pit across my chest and down the other arm. Instead I stopped and grabbed a pair of scissors from my desk. The same scissors I used to open my mail (yes I have a letter opener, but who actually uses them?).

As I cut the excess skin a couple of things occured to me, first..."I am performing a minor surgery right here in my cubical," and second "this is not exactly sanitary!"

My finger is completely find now, which means the procedure was a success.

I am thinking of opening my own practice with some of the tools I got for Christmas. Any of you assholes who have had your cats declawed, come on over. Finger tip removals begin at 5:00 pm.

Santa Baby

I don't hate any Christmas song…not really. I mean there are some I am not the biggest fan of (The Waitress's "Christmas Wrapping") and a few I'd rather jam a pencil in my ear then hear ever again (Paul McCartney's "Wonderful Christmas Time") so I guess I do hate some…

But "Santa Baby" is a song I used to LOVE until I listened to the lyrics and realized it's simply about a woman using her "feminine wiles" to get gifts from an over weight fat dude. It kind of turned my stomach.

"Santa Baby"

Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me

I'm not exactly sure what a "sable" is. I always thought it was a car produced by Ford, but now believe it to be the fur of an animal. That right there makes me hate this bitch. FUR? Seriously? Who are you Zsa Zsa Gabor? But there's the slim possibility this is reference to WWE's original DIVA "Sable." If you're looking to make out with a hot 6 foot blonde, then I like this song again.

*Side note, I hear "Sable" shaves…thus = NO FUR!

I've been an awful good girl

Not if you're hacking the skin off dead animals to keep you warm lady!

Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

Weird reference. The sexuality is implied, but what "chimney" does a woman have? I assume this a reference to her "lady parts."

*Another side note, that "fireplace" would likely indicate she's a "redhead."

Santa baby, an out-of-space convertible too, light blue

Damn! Dictating color and everything. Also, what's "out-of-space?" You're clear in some areas and so damn cryptic in others. Why doesn't he just give you a gift card?

I'll wait up for you dear

She's a bit possessive. Look lady, you want these goods? You're going to have to realize that this jolly old elf is out pleasing many others too.

Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

Think of all the fun I've missed

Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed

"Fellas?" So I'm thinking WWE's Sable is off the table. Also, a bit whorish. "Santa, I haven't been sucking any strange dick at the company Christmas party because I'm looking to cash in." Not the best way to upgrade that convertible to 12 cylinders.

Next year I could be oh so good

If you'd check off my Christmas list

Boo doo bee doo

Holy Shit! Is this quid pro quo? I'm almost sensing blackmail. You're talking about next year already? "Oh, Santa, if you don't get me good shit next year too…I'll be standing in line at Planned Parenthood by February."

Santa honey, I wanna yacht and really that's

Not a lot

Fuck it. Santa's not banging her. She's got pictures or something. This is more than any one man should be giving in just for some "action."

I've been an angel all year

Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

I hope Santa is wrapping his fella up good & tight. Because pulling out sounds dangerous with this one. She's trying to trap you in a maternity suit, Kringle!

Santa cutie, there's one thing I really do need, the deed

SHE WANTS A HOUSE?

To a platinum mine

WHAT THE FUCK?!? I don't know if she wants to mine precious stones or kill Chilean miners. She seems like a bit of a Nazi come to think of it!

Santa cutie, and hurry down the chimney tonight

Santa baby, I'm filling my stocking with a duplex, and checks

Wait, she's filling it? I'm really confused.

Sign your 'X' on the line

Oh Christ, I get it. She's writing his checks now and telling him to just sign it. Really, these must be photos of him molesting an elf or something.

Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

Come and trim my Christmas tree

Fuck! You couldn't even do that? The guy is probably going to acquiesce to ALL of your demands and you couldn't even throw some popcorn strands on the tree?

With some decorations bought at Tiffany's

Of course.

I really do believe in you

Let's see if you believe in me

Boo doo bee doo

Santa…a blow job ain't worth the hassle brother. Just hit the titty bar!

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring

Is this really the origin of Mrs. Claus? No wonder he only gets to cum once a year. What a poor miserable bastard.

I don't mean a phone

Bet he pays the phone bill.

Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

Hurry down the chimney tonight

Hurry down the chimney tonight

My advice, have a blood test done Santa...cause from the looks of things, neither of you are Asian!