well, yesterday's little whodunit has been solved. roommate 1 left an apologetic note and cleaned the remainder of the vomit from the sink. the culprit?!
... roommate 1's friend!
the note went on to say that roommate 1's friend had apparently gotten sick in our sink and then said he cleaned it up. but did not.
i guess it's possible, but i don't really buy it. that doesn't really make a lot of sense considering the vomit was in our only bathroom for more than a full day and i would think she'd have to see it and i know she was home yesterday morning before i left for work. also i didn't hear or see anyone come in and you can easily hear doors open in our place.
more importantly, i don't want to believe her. this is because i can't imagine how much more cynical and world-weary it would make me to learn there's a strata of society in which "vomiting in a sink and leaving it for an extended period" is an acceptable social norm.
given that i recently witnessed my roommate perform that very feat, that would mean one of her friends also thinks it's ok to puke in a public place and leave it there. which means their other friends might also think thusly... and their friends... and so on. hence, i prefer to think she's just a repeat offender who's embarrassed now that she's been caught.
anyway, i didn't really give a shit anymore. the sink is clean, so i thought this whole situation was resolved to a degree with which i was comfortable. i really didn't want to talk about it anymore because i did not wan to reopen the subject of what i hope is the last time i have to deal with someone throwing up in my sink and not cleaning it up.
(though realistically, given the stupid, stupid route i've chosen to take on this winding road of life, this was probably like the third- or fourth-to-last-time.)
BUT! as i was shaving this evening, i noticed the sink was not draining. i stopped and watched for a second and realized it was draining, but extremely slowly. it is clogged with, what i can only imagine, are the bilious and partially digested remains of a digiorno pepperoni pizza, expelled from the esophagus of an indeterminate individual.
at this point i have no idea what's going on anymore. things stopped making sense the first time there was puke in one of my sinks.
by the way, i'm sorry these last few entries have been so centered around grossness. i just seem to be in a gross phase. or rather a phase in which grossness is being unwillingly inflicted on me.
*alternate title: "the glamour and level of sophistication in my post-college life never ceases to amaze me."
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
an opportunity for growth*
for the past several months, i've been living with two people i met over the internet because i didn't know anyone who wanted to live in this area. one of the greatest joys of living with people who i had never met before is the exciting opportunities for personal growth that come hand-in-hand with embarking on these new interpersonal relationships.
we should savor those flickers of surprise when initially confronted with someone's quirks... then the richness of the journey of attempting to make sense of these oddities and idiosyncrasies... and finally the moment of transcendent enlightenment in which one learns to appreciate, rather than judge, the patchwork of intangible qualities that form our utterly unique, beautifully flawed and indelibly human souls.
i myself experienced one such quirk when i went downstairs to get ready for work this morning and noticed our bathroom sink was filled with vomit. i stood quietly for a moment and took in the situation, the sour stench of bile emanating from where i usually shave and brush my teeth.
what a charming eccentricity! someone with whom i have signed a lease evidently thinks leaving vomit in the sink of our house's only bathroom is acceptable behavior!
once again employing my goren-esque deductive skills, i almost immediately determined it was roommate 1.
1. the vomit was dry, so it must have happened several hours ago, which doesn't fit roommate 2's schedule.
2. its color and consistency (i'll spare you the details) appear to match roommate 1's dinner last night, which was a frozen pizza. i know this because the box, cardboard cutting surface, plastic wrapping and dirty pizza cutter were still on the counter.
3. the vomiter chose to use the sink instead of the toilet (which is less than six inches to the right and is far easier to clean), and roommate 1 is exactly the kind of stupid fucking shit-for-brains who would do something like that.
4. and, most tellingly, i was standing in our kitchen a few months ago and personally witnessed roommate 1 vomit into our kitchen sink and leave for work without cleaning it up... so there's some precedent involved, but that's a story for another day.
BUT! i decided not to jump to conclusions and fly into a rage as i once might have done. as i drove to work, my fetid morning breath fogging my windows because i was too grossed out to brush my teeth, i reflected on what i had seen.
roommate 1 may have been gravely ill and had to be rushed to the hospital. but then she wouldn't have been sleeping on the living room couch with the cartoon network blaring at her unhearing ears.
maybe roommate 1 is an avant-garde provocateur, who last night delivered a biting commentary on society's notions of hygiene and challenged me to confront the ludicrousness of humanity's attempts to sterilize the world. take that, establishment!
perhaps roommate 1 had been reading up on natural cleaning agents. is it such a stretch to think she attempted to use her powerful stomach acid to scour our sink clean of the accumulation of dried toothpaste scum and weeks-old purple hair dye that she herself left there?
but when all is said and done, i suppose i'm just thankful roommate 1 was thoughtful enough to share this part of herself with me. i can't wait to talk about this with her in person. that's another funny quirk of hers; she never answers her phone whenever she does something a less enlightened person would characterize as "mind-numbingly stupid and disgustingly inconsiderate."
* alternate title: VomitOnMySink, an homage to my pal jessica.
we should savor those flickers of surprise when initially confronted with someone's quirks... then the richness of the journey of attempting to make sense of these oddities and idiosyncrasies... and finally the moment of transcendent enlightenment in which one learns to appreciate, rather than judge, the patchwork of intangible qualities that form our utterly unique, beautifully flawed and indelibly human souls.
i myself experienced one such quirk when i went downstairs to get ready for work this morning and noticed our bathroom sink was filled with vomit. i stood quietly for a moment and took in the situation, the sour stench of bile emanating from where i usually shave and brush my teeth.
what a charming eccentricity! someone with whom i have signed a lease evidently thinks leaving vomit in the sink of our house's only bathroom is acceptable behavior!
once again employing my goren-esque deductive skills, i almost immediately determined it was roommate 1.
1. the vomit was dry, so it must have happened several hours ago, which doesn't fit roommate 2's schedule.
2. its color and consistency (i'll spare you the details) appear to match roommate 1's dinner last night, which was a frozen pizza. i know this because the box, cardboard cutting surface, plastic wrapping and dirty pizza cutter were still on the counter.
3. the vomiter chose to use the sink instead of the toilet (which is less than six inches to the right and is far easier to clean), and roommate 1 is exactly the kind of stupid fucking shit-for-brains who would do something like that.
4. and, most tellingly, i was standing in our kitchen a few months ago and personally witnessed roommate 1 vomit into our kitchen sink and leave for work without cleaning it up... so there's some precedent involved, but that's a story for another day.
BUT! i decided not to jump to conclusions and fly into a rage as i once might have done. as i drove to work, my fetid morning breath fogging my windows because i was too grossed out to brush my teeth, i reflected on what i had seen.
roommate 1 may have been gravely ill and had to be rushed to the hospital. but then she wouldn't have been sleeping on the living room couch with the cartoon network blaring at her unhearing ears.
maybe roommate 1 is an avant-garde provocateur, who last night delivered a biting commentary on society's notions of hygiene and challenged me to confront the ludicrousness of humanity's attempts to sterilize the world. take that, establishment!
perhaps roommate 1 had been reading up on natural cleaning agents. is it such a stretch to think she attempted to use her powerful stomach acid to scour our sink clean of the accumulation of dried toothpaste scum and weeks-old purple hair dye that she herself left there?
but when all is said and done, i suppose i'm just thankful roommate 1 was thoughtful enough to share this part of herself with me. i can't wait to talk about this with her in person. that's another funny quirk of hers; she never answers her phone whenever she does something a less enlightened person would characterize as "mind-numbingly stupid and disgustingly inconsiderate."
* alternate title: VomitOnMySink, an homage to my pal jessica.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
when it's time to party...
over the weekend, i saw this dude use his library card to crush up a xanax and a ritalin. he then mixed them together and started doing lines.
badass!
badass!
Monday, January 26, 2009
a case of the mondays
i was half-assedly watching the SAG awards last night... what a snoozefest. anyway, i happened to see david duchovny and thought about how it's kind of weird that he admitted being a sex addict while he was playing character who's a sex addict on "californication."
then i suddenly remembered this crappy song i heard in high school:
see, the irony is david duchovny probably would have loved bree sharp (physically at least) because he compulsively seeks sex! get it?!
then i suddenly remembered this crappy song i heard in high school:
see, the irony is david duchovny probably would have loved bree sharp (physically at least) because he compulsively seeks sex! get it?!
Friday, January 23, 2009
sleazy bar stories, #1
i just want to say before i begin that this story honestly makes me feel extremely... i guess "unclean" is the word. i hate it and wish i could forget it but it grossed me out so much i felt like i had to share it.
last weekend, i went to meet some friends at the bar at which they always hang out. we were having some drinks and it was a pretty good time.
then people started noticing the stench.
i personally didn't notice anything at first, but everyone else had that weird, screwed-up "what's that god-awful smell?" face.
then sam rolled his eyes and pointed to someone who was sitting at the bar behind me and was like "oh, it's grandpa joe." or something, i don't remember his fucking name. the person did indeed look old and grandfatherly, so i was like "whatever, it's some old guy who doesn't care about smelling bad in front of people anymore." i had no idea how right i really was.
so i stopped caring about it and the night progressed. then maybe like 45 minutes later, i finally caught this overpoweringly filthy, wet, heavy odor... like the smell of a nursing home on a hot day.
this was seriously hardcore... like it was so bad i had to walk away for a bit. you probably see where this is going by now but i still didn't really think much of it, aside from "man, those guys weren't kidding."
a little bit after that i was talking to my friends karl and annie. i went to sit down next to them and they were just like "no... no, no no! that's grandpa joe's chair." i assumed they meant because he was coming back and had just gotten up for a second.
i left soon after that and the realization suddenly struck me while i was driving home -- karl and annie were trying to warn me not to sit there because that fucking old man had shit himself!
BLAAARGH!!! the pieces all fit! how fucking revolting! i seriously think i was subconsciously trying to block myself from understanding what was going on because of how grossed out i would have been (and still am almost a week later).
aghast, i told a couple people from the area that i suspected some guy shit himself at the bar after i got home. and they were like "right, grandpa joe. big deal, it happens all the time."
WHAT THE FUCK?! i couldn't believe everyone was so blase about this. i was blown away.
so... employing my goren-esque deductive skills, here's what i make of the situation:
last weekend, i went to meet some friends at the bar at which they always hang out. we were having some drinks and it was a pretty good time.
then people started noticing the stench.
i personally didn't notice anything at first, but everyone else had that weird, screwed-up "what's that god-awful smell?" face.
then sam rolled his eyes and pointed to someone who was sitting at the bar behind me and was like "oh, it's grandpa joe." or something, i don't remember his fucking name. the person did indeed look old and grandfatherly, so i was like "whatever, it's some old guy who doesn't care about smelling bad in front of people anymore." i had no idea how right i really was.
so i stopped caring about it and the night progressed. then maybe like 45 minutes later, i finally caught this overpoweringly filthy, wet, heavy odor... like the smell of a nursing home on a hot day.
this was seriously hardcore... like it was so bad i had to walk away for a bit. you probably see where this is going by now but i still didn't really think much of it, aside from "man, those guys weren't kidding."
a little bit after that i was talking to my friends karl and annie. i went to sit down next to them and they were just like "no... no, no no! that's grandpa joe's chair." i assumed they meant because he was coming back and had just gotten up for a second.
i left soon after that and the realization suddenly struck me while i was driving home -- karl and annie were trying to warn me not to sit there because that fucking old man had shit himself!
BLAAARGH!!! the pieces all fit! how fucking revolting! i seriously think i was subconsciously trying to block myself from understanding what was going on because of how grossed out i would have been (and still am almost a week later).
aghast, i told a couple people from the area that i suspected some guy shit himself at the bar after i got home. and they were like "right, grandpa joe. big deal, it happens all the time."
WHAT THE FUCK?! i couldn't believe everyone was so blase about this. i was blown away.
so... employing my goren-esque deductive skills, here's what i make of the situation:
- no one was surprised the old guy soiled himself (other than myself... and not only was i surprised, i was also horrified and incredibly grossed out). in fact, people knew who i was talking about without needing any specifics beyond "some guy at the bar shit himself."
- so the old guy spends enough time there that the other patrons know his nickname and behavior.
- a grown man soiling himself at a bar is a significant deviation from normative behavior. since other regular patrons knew his behavior and were not surprised by it, this is likely a routine occurrence.
- so this man is shitting himself in a public place, and most likely does not sit in the same chair each time he's there. even if he does attempt to sit in the same general area, people in bars move stuff around all the time so it is unlikely he sits in the same seat.
- given the general condition of the bar, most notably the men's bathroom, the employees likely do not disinfect the barstools.
- because the old guy routinely shits himself and sits in different stools, every barstool is potentially contaminated with fecal matter.
- ipso facto, i'm never sitting down at a stool there again... otherwise, i might inadvertently be sitting in stool! ah-ha ha ha!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
is he still talking about that stupid mall cop movie? jesus.
my only hope is the runaway success of "paul blart: mall cop" will reflect some richly deserved limelight on its obvious source material, "drabble."
last weekend, the american people proved they can hear about a widely panned comedy starring a morbidly obese man in a mall cop costume perched atop a segway, and still think "this is the best thing out there right now."
and this day would never have come without drabble tirelessly and thanklessly toiling in near-anonymity to pave the way for such widescale bemusement/apathy toward fat mall cops on segways.
i'm calling you out, blart. pay your dues and honor your roots!
last weekend, the american people proved they can hear about a widely panned comedy starring a morbidly obese man in a mall cop costume perched atop a segway, and still think "this is the best thing out there right now."
and this day would never have come without drabble tirelessly and thanklessly toiling in near-anonymity to pave the way for such widescale bemusement/apathy toward fat mall cops on segways.
i'm calling you out, blart. pay your dues and honor your roots!
dumb public transportation moments, #7
i was on the brown line and i was trying to read my book when i saw this guy in a cowboy hat making rounds on the train. i assumed he was asking for money because that's what's involved in probably 95 percent of "interactions with strangers on the train."
sometimes it's other things, like when a couple of uppity, spoiled bitches go around calling people they don't even know "scary" without ever stopping to think that maybe they just happened to catch the person on an off day when he wasn't looking very nice and was really hung over.
but anyway, the cowboy hat guy walked up to me. i glanced up real fast and was like "hey man, i'm sorry but i'm not really interested" before he could say anything.
i've heard tons of bullshit stories about why random guys in the city need money and i never, ever give them any. i figure my method of preemptive striking saves both of us time; i don't have to listen to his stumbling attempt to warm my icy, black heart with his insincere sob story and he can keep his A-game for some sap who might actually fall for it.
but cowboy hat guy totally ignored me and kept smiling and waving his hands and gesturing at some piece of paper on a clipboard. i still didn't really look up but i said again "no, i don't want it."
he kept standing there but now he started looking kind of hurt and continued pointing to the piece of paper. i finally looked up for real and realized the guy he hadn't been just making random hand movements at me, he had been signing.
he had been signing because he was fucking deaf and trying to collect for a charity for deaf children and the piece of paper was a pledge drive sheet.
sometimes it's other things, like when a couple of uppity, spoiled bitches go around calling people they don't even know "scary" without ever stopping to think that maybe they just happened to catch the person on an off day when he wasn't looking very nice and was really hung over.
but anyway, the cowboy hat guy walked up to me. i glanced up real fast and was like "hey man, i'm sorry but i'm not really interested" before he could say anything.
i've heard tons of bullshit stories about why random guys in the city need money and i never, ever give them any. i figure my method of preemptive striking saves both of us time; i don't have to listen to his stumbling attempt to warm my icy, black heart with his insincere sob story and he can keep his A-game for some sap who might actually fall for it.
but cowboy hat guy totally ignored me and kept smiling and waving his hands and gesturing at some piece of paper on a clipboard. i still didn't really look up but i said again "no, i don't want it."
he kept standing there but now he started looking kind of hurt and continued pointing to the piece of paper. i finally looked up for real and realized the guy he hadn't been just making random hand movements at me, he had been signing.
he had been signing because he was fucking deaf and trying to collect for a charity for deaf children and the piece of paper was a pledge drive sheet.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
dumb public transportation moments, #6
i saw a guy with the word "dijon" faded into his hair on the brown line. either that's his name or i've finally found someone who likes mustard as much as i do.
dumb public transportation moments, #5
last night at the brown line stop, the CTA employee in the booth was eating a lemon freeze when it was like -12 degrees out. what a world.
Friday, January 16, 2009
have at thee, satan!
i rarely pay any attention to internet advertising. i don't want to buy t-shirts with cute little quips, i don't give a shit about my credit score, i have no interest in going to some weird online college, etc.
but i happened to see an ad on gmail today that really caught my eye:
i mean, that's pretty badass, right? a giant beast with lion, jaguar and (i think) goat heads. incidentally, that's exactly how the ad looked; i didn't crop off the side like that.
after i managed to wrap my mind around the sweet, sweet awesomeness of that picture, i actually read what the ad said and grew increasingly curious. does my future contain this savage chimera? what the fuck does it want? does it have other cryptic messages utterly bereft of basic punctuation for me?
i got my answer when i scrolled down a bit more and saw the lower half of the ad:
of course. in retrospect, it's really obvious it was about religious fundamentalism. the gobbeldygook about monsters and prophecy blended with sloppy grammar is a dead giveaway... although "hyborian age" high school student fan fiction would have been my second guess.
even so, i was kind of intrigued. i always thought the old testament was kind of cool, what with all the smiting and turning people to pillars of salt and raining down fire and plagues of locusts and rivers of blood. for the first time since i can remember, i voluntarily clicked on an ad and i was not disappointed.
i think that picture pretty much speaks for itself, but i'm going to say it anyway: HOLY SHIT!!! there's a fucking barbarian warrior princess riding a five-headed dragon! and she's apparently giving away free booklets full of secrets! i'm so blown away that i don't even care what the rest of the web site says.
here's an even bigger picture so you can really see the barbarian-warrior-princess-riding-a-dragon-osity of it all:
all i need to know is the end of times is going to look a lot like a 1980s-era dungeons and dragons book, which fills me with a burning desire become a christian. i've got a +3 broadsword and a wand of melf's acid arrow with your name on it, satan!
but i happened to see an ad on gmail today that really caught my eye:
i mean, that's pretty badass, right? a giant beast with lion, jaguar and (i think) goat heads. incidentally, that's exactly how the ad looked; i didn't crop off the side like that.
after i managed to wrap my mind around the sweet, sweet awesomeness of that picture, i actually read what the ad said and grew increasingly curious. does my future contain this savage chimera? what the fuck does it want? does it have other cryptic messages utterly bereft of basic punctuation for me?
i got my answer when i scrolled down a bit more and saw the lower half of the ad:
of course. in retrospect, it's really obvious it was about religious fundamentalism. the gobbeldygook about monsters and prophecy blended with sloppy grammar is a dead giveaway... although "hyborian age" high school student fan fiction would have been my second guess.
even so, i was kind of intrigued. i always thought the old testament was kind of cool, what with all the smiting and turning people to pillars of salt and raining down fire and plagues of locusts and rivers of blood. for the first time since i can remember, i voluntarily clicked on an ad and i was not disappointed.
i think that picture pretty much speaks for itself, but i'm going to say it anyway: HOLY SHIT!!! there's a fucking barbarian warrior princess riding a five-headed dragon! and she's apparently giving away free booklets full of secrets! i'm so blown away that i don't even care what the rest of the web site says.here's an even bigger picture so you can really see the barbarian-warrior-princess-riding-a-dragon-osity of it all:
all i need to know is the end of times is going to look a lot like a 1980s-era dungeons and dragons book, which fills me with a burning desire become a christian. i've got a +3 broadsword and a wand of melf's acid arrow with your name on it, satan!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
measurable progress, #1
the other day, i realized the driver's side door on my car seemed to be broken. at first it wouldn't open at all and i had to go through the undignified process of crawling out the passenger's side (more on that later).
after i applied my considerable mechanical prowess to the problem (i.e. swore at it and kicked it a few times and kept turning my key in the lock over and over), it finally made this horrible clicking noise and swung open... except now it won't stay shut. sweet irony!
i've found the best (?) way to drive in my present situation is to use my left hand to steer and cross my right hand over my body with a death grip on the interior handle to keep it from flying open in oncoming traffic. classy.
the important part of this anecdote is i never realized how much weight i've lost. it took me a solid five minutes to maneuver my bulk out of my tiny ass car when this first happened last spring.
i had to begin by reclining the driver side seat all the way and then reaching over and doing the same thing to the passenger side to make sure i had enough room for the vehicular acrobatics i was about to perform. then i had to kind of scoot up in my seat and bring my left leg up to chest level and then twist it around over the center console to the passenger's side seat, which was about as comfortable as it sounds.
i then had to flop my body over, in a manner not unlike a walrus, so i was facing the ground and propping myself up with one arm on each headrest with the gear shift cruelly jamming into my groin. finally, i brought my right leg over to the other side and slid out the car feet-first while i was still facing the floor.
trust me, this was the only way it worked. i tried several methods with varying degrees of discomfort before i found the one that worked, ungainly though it was. i was fucking sweating by the time i was finished.
but this time i just hopped over the console and was out in like five seconds. it was disappointingly simple and took no strategy.
after i applied my considerable mechanical prowess to the problem (i.e. swore at it and kicked it a few times and kept turning my key in the lock over and over), it finally made this horrible clicking noise and swung open... except now it won't stay shut. sweet irony!
i've found the best (?) way to drive in my present situation is to use my left hand to steer and cross my right hand over my body with a death grip on the interior handle to keep it from flying open in oncoming traffic. classy.
the important part of this anecdote is i never realized how much weight i've lost. it took me a solid five minutes to maneuver my bulk out of my tiny ass car when this first happened last spring.
i had to begin by reclining the driver side seat all the way and then reaching over and doing the same thing to the passenger side to make sure i had enough room for the vehicular acrobatics i was about to perform. then i had to kind of scoot up in my seat and bring my left leg up to chest level and then twist it around over the center console to the passenger's side seat, which was about as comfortable as it sounds.
i then had to flop my body over, in a manner not unlike a walrus, so i was facing the ground and propping myself up with one arm on each headrest with the gear shift cruelly jamming into my groin. finally, i brought my right leg over to the other side and slid out the car feet-first while i was still facing the floor.
trust me, this was the only way it worked. i tried several methods with varying degrees of discomfort before i found the one that worked, ungainly though it was. i was fucking sweating by the time i was finished.
but this time i just hopped over the console and was out in like five seconds. it was disappointingly simple and took no strategy.
forget it, marge! it's chinatown!
i just saw an ad for that "paul blart: mall cop" movie. i'm wondering whether anyone else noticed it's basically a movie version of the comic strip "drabble."
for those of you who aren't familiar, "drabble" is about a morbidly obese, slow-witted mall cop. he rides a segway and eats lots of junk food and his family makes fun of him.
needless to say, it's a real gas. behold!
drabble rides his segway to buy junk food. a delightfully incisive jibe at moden america's values toward health and exercise.
drabble simultaneously stuffs his bloated face with junk food and socks it to his in-laws. zing!
a henpecked drabble dispenses some wry fatherly advice.
so obviously fat, dumb guys with useless jobs (i.e. mall cop) are already really funny. plus segways make everything funnier, that's a no-brainer. AND if the aforementioned fat, dumb guy happens to be portrayed by that slob from "king of queens," i know what i'm doing tomorrow for opening day! viva blart!
for those of you who aren't familiar, "drabble" is about a morbidly obese, slow-witted mall cop. he rides a segway and eats lots of junk food and his family makes fun of him.
needless to say, it's a real gas. behold!
drabble rides his segway to buy junk food. a delightfully incisive jibe at moden america's values toward health and exercise.
drabble simultaneously stuffs his bloated face with junk food and socks it to his in-laws. zing!
a henpecked drabble dispenses some wry fatherly advice.
so obviously fat, dumb guys with useless jobs (i.e. mall cop) are already really funny. plus segways make everything funnier, that's a no-brainer. AND if the aforementioned fat, dumb guy happens to be portrayed by that slob from "king of queens," i know what i'm doing tomorrow for opening day! viva blart!
Monday, January 12, 2009
down with homework!
i was at a restaurant with my girlfriend the other night. i looked over at the table next to us and there was a woman using an emory board at the table in front of the other people with which she was dining.
that's a new one to me.
that's a new one to me.
Friday, January 9, 2009
i'd like a piece of gum
i saw this little gem while i was reading the tribune today. apparently this writer, trine tsouderos, recently rented the "sex and the city" movie and reacted with "horror"... and not just because it was a stupid cash-cow movie based on a god-awful series.
given our current troubled economic time, trine tsouderos was aghast at the insanely excessive lives the four characters lead... lives of which she was once so enamored. observe!
i can't wait for this person's next earth-shattering revelation. i imagine it'll be something like:
and before you start harping on me for not having seen the show and blah blah blah, i have seen it. i've seen a lot of it and it was never of my own volition and it was a fucking nightmare.
the worst time was when i was in my late-teens and i was sleeping over at cory's house because i thought we were going to drink and play video games. he and phil pulled a bait-and-switch and wanted watch a whole season of that fucking show because there's a lot of nudity in it.
i was stuck there with no ride, so i wound up staring at the ceiling on his couch for like six hours and drinking an entire bottle of vodka in an attempt to obliterate all traces of the evening from my memory or, failing that, die. i don't remember what happened after that, so i consider it a partial success.
if even a teenage guy filled with boiling, tempestuous hormones can't enjoy looking at naked chicks because he's too distracted by their brazen, cartoonish materialism, how the fuck did it take this long for a grown woman to realize it?!
boo-urns to you, trine tsouderos! although i am looking forward to that marmaduke column.
given our current troubled economic time, trine tsouderos was aghast at the insanely excessive lives the four characters lead... lives of which she was once so enamored. observe!
"What was so fabulous then—all those shoes, those clothes, those closets, those apartments!—seems so foolish now."are you fucking for real, lady? it took a nationwide economic meltdown for you to realize $1,200 purses, $600 shoes and $20 martini glasses of pink alcoholic sludge are foolish and excessive?
...
"This was the era of $300 jeans, weekly pedicures and "bottle service," in which you paid hundreds of dollars for a cheap bottle of booze just to secure a table at a posh bar."
i can't wait for this person's next earth-shattering revelation. i imagine it'll be something like:
"trine tsouderos, after reading "marmaduke" for more than a decade, comes to the sudden and shocking realization that the titular character is a giant dog!"news flash: the crap the characters spent their money on was always foolish. it never stopped being foolish. the entire series and its accompanying movie have a bone-deep commitment to glorifying foolish, absurd, unrealistic excesses that only the most shallow and self-absorbed percentage of the population can ever achieve. part of the "appeal" of the show is people like watching stuff like that. that's why there are all those shows about rich people doing really mundane things, but in ways far richer than we do them.
and before you start harping on me for not having seen the show and blah blah blah, i have seen it. i've seen a lot of it and it was never of my own volition and it was a fucking nightmare.
the worst time was when i was in my late-teens and i was sleeping over at cory's house because i thought we were going to drink and play video games. he and phil pulled a bait-and-switch and wanted watch a whole season of that fucking show because there's a lot of nudity in it.
i was stuck there with no ride, so i wound up staring at the ceiling on his couch for like six hours and drinking an entire bottle of vodka in an attempt to obliterate all traces of the evening from my memory or, failing that, die. i don't remember what happened after that, so i consider it a partial success.
if even a teenage guy filled with boiling, tempestuous hormones can't enjoy looking at naked chicks because he's too distracted by their brazen, cartoonish materialism, how the fuck did it take this long for a grown woman to realize it?!
boo-urns to you, trine tsouderos! although i am looking forward to that marmaduke column.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
urkelomically correct
i think "the unborn" will be really good because the concept of a demonic child has never been explored in a horror movie.
*edit: same deal with "revolutionary road" and "ennui of life in suburbia."
*edit: same deal with "revolutionary road" and "ennui of life in suburbia."
i can't wait for andy bernard's impending meltdown.
seriously, what the fuck is this "kath and kim" show? i keep catching like the last five minutes of it while i'm waiting for "the office" to start. is the premise of the show "a snotty, spoiled bitch and her leathery-skinned mother moan about innane minutia that no one could ever care about?"
i'll tell you this much, it's certainly no "10 items or less." more turkey bowling, says i!
i'll tell you this much, it's certainly no "10 items or less." more turkey bowling, says i!
is someone havin' a laugh?
why on earth would someone run plastic eating utensils through the dishwasher when there's a whole drawer full of actual silverware?
so, what's the deal with airport bathrooms?! am i right folks?!
i've loved every bit of this whole sen. larry craig alleged-airport-bathroom-gay-sex scandal - mainly because even if he wasn't trying to get busy in that bathroom, he helped create an environment so hateful and intolerant of homosexuality that even an unproven allegation that he is gay (damning though it sounds) was enough to end his career.
but, alas, i now must grudgingly admit that i believe larry craig is innocent and not at all a hypocritical scumbag who grew bloated with political power by condemning the very behavior in which he secretly engaged.
i know this is old news by now, but i somehow missed his explanation for his behavior: "[craig] is a big man who needed to spread his legs while sitting on the toilet," which he happened do in exactly the same way gay men signal each other for sexual trysts.
but, alas, i now must grudgingly admit that i believe larry craig is innocent and not at all a hypocritical scumbag who grew bloated with political power by condemning the very behavior in which he secretly engaged.
i know this is old news by now, but i somehow missed his explanation for his behavior: "[craig] is a big man who needed to spread his legs while sitting on the toilet," which he happened do in exactly the same way gay men signal each other for sexual trysts.
it's so true. i myself am a big man and i can't even count the number of embarrassing situations that have stemmed from my size while trying to use public bathrooms. in fact, the bigger you are, the more often you inadvertently replicate methods of anonymous proposition for gay sex due to your sheer size. that's probably why those two guys grabbed my friend janssen's crotch in that alley and he wound up punching them. it was all an innocent misunderstanding because he's 6'8''. (p.s. that really happened.)
why just last month, i myself was quietly going about my business in an airport bathroom stall, my pasty tree-trunk legs splayed wide due to my impressive physique. suddenly, this guy with a moustache wearing a leather vest and no shirt burst through the door, doubtlessly expecting a hot, filthy, no-strings-attached, dude-on-dude sex romp.
we stared at each in complete silence for moment, his face slowly growing as red as his naked, throbbing erection.
"i thought you wanted to... but you're just a big man and you're really trying to... oh my god, i'm so embarrassed!" he stammered.
we both burst out laughing and he began apologizing profusely for what had to have been my eight thousandth airport bathroom gay sex mix-up. i reassured him that it happens to big men like me all the time and he shouldn't worry about it. we even had a beer together at the airport bar.
dumb public transportation moments, #4
(this one was a long time ago)
i was on a really crowded blue line train with my girlfriend and this disgustingly dirty guy who had some weird skin rash was sitting near us. i was standing up right near the priority seating for old/disabled people. i didn't mind standing and i usually try to leave those seats open when it's crowded, but the dirty guy kept trying to tell me i could sit there. i told him it was cool and i didn't mind. he started eating some pringles and then tilted his head back and tried to dump the crumbs into his mouth but almost all of them landed on his clothes.
he started trying to tell me again for like the fourth time that i should sit down when suddenly these two plainclothes cops flashed their badges, grabbed him and escorted him off the train.
he really wasn't bothering me and i didn't want him to get in trouble or anything, but apparently he was disturbing other people before we got on. oh well.
i was on a really crowded blue line train with my girlfriend and this disgustingly dirty guy who had some weird skin rash was sitting near us. i was standing up right near the priority seating for old/disabled people. i didn't mind standing and i usually try to leave those seats open when it's crowded, but the dirty guy kept trying to tell me i could sit there. i told him it was cool and i didn't mind. he started eating some pringles and then tilted his head back and tried to dump the crumbs into his mouth but almost all of them landed on his clothes.
he started trying to tell me again for like the fourth time that i should sit down when suddenly these two plainclothes cops flashed their badges, grabbed him and escorted him off the train.
he really wasn't bothering me and i didn't want him to get in trouble or anything, but apparently he was disturbing other people before we got on. oh well.
i thought express lanes were 15 items or less...
(from 11:08 p.m., Jan. 6, 2009)
man oh man, i'm watching this "10 items or less" show on tbs. in the words of master of disguise frank caliendo, it is truly is very funny. and by "very funny," i mean "just about the dullest thing i've ever seen."
i've been watching for about 10 minutes and it's like a really half-assed bastardization of the american version of "the office" set in a grocery store. the store manager is a blatant michael scott rip-off , like even down to his manner of speaking except without stuff like comedic timing and personality.
the faux michael scott, a tall dumb guy and some other dude with a fumanchu a la "my name is earl" have been bowling frozen turkeys at a bunch of two-liter bottles of pop on the floor for literally like five minutes. i have no clue why, i wasn't really paying attention for the first couple of scenes. but now they just keep hurling frozen turkeys down the aisle over and over again without any dialogue.
wow, there's also a fat, sassy, black female character and what is essentially sweet dee's "martina martinez" character from it's always sunny. i love when shows feature racially diverse ensemble casts and then just make them all into ridiculous stereotypes.
(about 10 minutes later) holy shit, they're still doing this turkey bowling plot line.
the episode just ended with the manager deciding to operate his store as a normal grocery store by day and a frozen turkey bowling alley by night, apparently to compete with the sassy black lady who owns another grocery store across the street and for some reason keeps coming in their store to talk to them because she wants to run them out of business...? and customers apparently are willing to come to come to a grocery store at night and exchange money for the opportunity to toss around frozen turkeys...?
i haven't been this morbidly fascinated with a sitcom since my brief love (hate?) affair with "yes, dear." i'm totally watching this again next week.
man oh man, i'm watching this "10 items or less" show on tbs. in the words of master of disguise frank caliendo, it is truly is very funny. and by "very funny," i mean "just about the dullest thing i've ever seen."
i've been watching for about 10 minutes and it's like a really half-assed bastardization of the american version of "the office" set in a grocery store. the store manager is a blatant michael scott rip-off , like even down to his manner of speaking except without stuff like comedic timing and personality.
the faux michael scott, a tall dumb guy and some other dude with a fumanchu a la "my name is earl" have been bowling frozen turkeys at a bunch of two-liter bottles of pop on the floor for literally like five minutes. i have no clue why, i wasn't really paying attention for the first couple of scenes. but now they just keep hurling frozen turkeys down the aisle over and over again without any dialogue.
wow, there's also a fat, sassy, black female character and what is essentially sweet dee's "martina martinez" character from it's always sunny. i love when shows feature racially diverse ensemble casts and then just make them all into ridiculous stereotypes.
(about 10 minutes later) holy shit, they're still doing this turkey bowling plot line.
the episode just ended with the manager deciding to operate his store as a normal grocery store by day and a frozen turkey bowling alley by night, apparently to compete with the sassy black lady who owns another grocery store across the street and for some reason keeps coming in their store to talk to them because she wants to run them out of business...? and customers apparently are willing to come to come to a grocery store at night and exchange money for the opportunity to toss around frozen turkeys...?
i haven't been this morbidly fascinated with a sitcom since my brief love (hate?) affair with "yes, dear." i'm totally watching this again next week.
dumb public transportation moments, #3
i was hanging out with people the other night and left a bit early to catch the last metra because i was super tired. everyone was pretty chill and then suddenly this late middle-aged guy began starting shit with some other dude. the old guy was visibly drunk... like all disheveled and badly slurring his speech and stuff. he was sitting in front of the other guy and he kept turning around and staring at him. he started bitching at the younger guy for some reason but i couldn't hear exactly what he said... it sounded like he was complaining about how loud the young guy was breathing.
the younger guy, who was short, stocky and kind of wussy loooking, just exploded and started yelling at the old guy to get out of his face. cowed, the old man didn't say a word and moved to another seat.
i was stunned that the young dude flipped out and i totally thought something else was going to happen, but they wound up not saying anything to each other for the entire ride. the old dude also pounded three cans of beer in half an hour.
i was really disappointed because there was this badass-looking chicago cop in a K-9 unit uniform with combat boots and a marine corps hat. i was really hoping he was going to have to regulate... seagal-style.
the younger guy, who was short, stocky and kind of wussy loooking, just exploded and started yelling at the old guy to get out of his face. cowed, the old man didn't say a word and moved to another seat.
i was stunned that the young dude flipped out and i totally thought something else was going to happen, but they wound up not saying anything to each other for the entire ride. the old dude also pounded three cans of beer in half an hour.
i was really disappointed because there was this badass-looking chicago cop in a K-9 unit uniform with combat boots and a marine corps hat. i was really hoping he was going to have to regulate... seagal-style.
i just ate dinner and i'm still hungry
new year's was pretty fun. i went to a party at karl's and there were too many chicks (five). i like my parties like the menu at a milwaukee brewer's game -- full of beer and sausage! a-ha ha ha! oh man, i need to write that one down for my upcoming sitcom, "fat dudez." we almost managed to spirit karl away to the bar but his girlfriend somehow caught him. i kept yelling for dan to drive, but karl went back inside.
there was some kind of stupid bar drama. i guess some guys wanted to fight some other guys or something. i was eating cheese and crackers the whole time the bartender was screaming at everyone to leave.
my arcade fire song ("neighborhood #1: tunnels") came on right when the shit started going down. it's really hilarious watching people trying to fight to that song because it completely does not apply to physical conflicts. except for one time time i was at a party and i considered punching someone who called arcade fire "a bunch of art fags."
there was some kind of stupid bar drama. i guess some guys wanted to fight some other guys or something. i was eating cheese and crackers the whole time the bartender was screaming at everyone to leave.
my arcade fire song ("neighborhood #1: tunnels") came on right when the shit started going down. it's really hilarious watching people trying to fight to that song because it completely does not apply to physical conflicts. except for one time time i was at a party and i considered punching someone who called arcade fire "a bunch of art fags."
dumb public transportation moments, #1
i was on the metra the other day and there was a group of really loud people who were in their late teens/early 20s. they apparently were visiting from georgia and could not keep their fucking mouths shut about it. the train was full so i couldn't move to a different seat.
this semi-sleazy young-ish conductor with a bunch of earrings looked like he was trying to mack on this one girl in their group because he kept going over and talking to her. she started yammering about how "yes man" was one of the funniest movies she's ever seen and that she couldn't walk (i have no idea why) and was wondering whether "y'all" could just drop her off at gino's east. then some dude in her group started whining about how he couldn't eat pizza because "it's like the worst thing for [him]to eat."
i don't know what the fuck else they were talking about... by the time we reached the station, i wasn't quite pushing my way through the other passengers to escape the georgians' inane babble, but i was definitely being a little too physical for polite company.
this semi-sleazy young-ish conductor with a bunch of earrings looked like he was trying to mack on this one girl in their group because he kept going over and talking to her. she started yammering about how "yes man" was one of the funniest movies she's ever seen and that she couldn't walk (i have no idea why) and was wondering whether "y'all" could just drop her off at gino's east. then some dude in her group started whining about how he couldn't eat pizza because "it's like the worst thing for [him]to eat."
i don't know what the fuck else they were talking about... by the time we reached the station, i wasn't quite pushing my way through the other passengers to escape the georgians' inane babble, but i was definitely being a little too physical for polite company.
dumb public transportation moments, #2
(this one happened probably a month ago)
i was on the blue line and these two cute girls who looked like were probably art majors at depaul or something got on the train and sat across from me. i'm sure i looked like hell because i was really hung over and i slept at john's place so my eyes were all bloodshot from his dumb cat. plus i was in a bad mood about something that i can't remember right now, so i was probably sulking and scowling. we reached my stop and i got off and i heard one of them say "that guy was scary." well boo-urns to you too, ladies.
i was on the blue line and these two cute girls who looked like were probably art majors at depaul or something got on the train and sat across from me. i'm sure i looked like hell because i was really hung over and i slept at john's place so my eyes were all bloodshot from his dumb cat. plus i was in a bad mood about something that i can't remember right now, so i was probably sulking and scowling. we reached my stop and i got off and i heard one of them say "that guy was scary." well boo-urns to you too, ladies.
a bottle of water is $4 at house of blues
i went to a naked raygun show with some friends on saturday at craphole house of blues. the show was fun except i forgot to bring ear plugs and my ears were still ringing on tuesday. also it got really fucking rowdy, especially considering the median age of the concertgoers was probably above 33 or so. raygun really brings the old ones out of the woodwork.
the arrivals, hot water music and naked raygun were great.
i had never heard of the methodones before, but they were pretty much the definition of an uninspired semi-poppy punk band. i recently began playing piano and learning about music and the methodones finally made me realize what people mean when they make fun of punk by saying it's just three chords over and over again.
by far the best moment was this burly skinhead guy. first of all, he moved in front of us during a really rough pit and acted like a great human shield. then he pulled a really classy move by taking off his bomber jacket, removing his shirt, tying it to his belt (in what you will soon see was a short-sighted move) and then putting his bomber back on. i barely got a look at him, but i saw he was covered in tattoos.
so he was getting pretty excited in the pit and flattened some dorky-looking kid in an undershirt with "the clash" and "anarchy" and shit written on in magic markers.nothing personal against that kid, but it's really funny watching stuff like that happen.
the skinhead really seemed to be working up a sweat (it was hot as shit in there, i wound up paying those fucking vultures $5 to check my coat) and then took off his bomber. i tell you, he had no fewer than eight huge-ass dragon tattoos all over his body. he looked like he was wearing a shirt made of a bunch of dio album covers. he was so awesome i probably spent more time watching him than i did watching the band.
after he took off his shirt, he did another few rounds around the pit and then stopped in the middle and started doing this weird, jerky interpretation of the robot. it was like some wonderful dream.
eventually, he wound up barreling toward these two young-looking girls who looked like they thought it was going to be more like a coldplay show or something. they looked like they were with like an aunt or an older cousin or something and were really grossed out about the whole situation. so they see this human locomotive glistening with the mingled sweat of probably 50 old, scummy punk dudes bearing down on them, and they literally shrieked and tried to run away but couldn't because of the crowd. i didn't really see the impact, but i'm sure he got his gross fat guy sweat all over them. i can only imagine their enthusiasm was considerably... dampened! a-ha ha ha!
after that, he whipped off his belt and threw it at the stage for some inscrutable reason and then had to stuff his shirt down the back of his pants. it was a sight to see... he left soon after and i was really disappointed.
the arrivals, hot water music and naked raygun were great.
i had never heard of the methodones before, but they were pretty much the definition of an uninspired semi-poppy punk band. i recently began playing piano and learning about music and the methodones finally made me realize what people mean when they make fun of punk by saying it's just three chords over and over again.
by far the best moment was this burly skinhead guy. first of all, he moved in front of us during a really rough pit and acted like a great human shield. then he pulled a really classy move by taking off his bomber jacket, removing his shirt, tying it to his belt (in what you will soon see was a short-sighted move) and then putting his bomber back on. i barely got a look at him, but i saw he was covered in tattoos.
so he was getting pretty excited in the pit and flattened some dorky-looking kid in an undershirt with "the clash" and "anarchy" and shit written on in magic markers.nothing personal against that kid, but it's really funny watching stuff like that happen.
the skinhead really seemed to be working up a sweat (it was hot as shit in there, i wound up paying those fucking vultures $5 to check my coat) and then took off his bomber. i tell you, he had no fewer than eight huge-ass dragon tattoos all over his body. he looked like he was wearing a shirt made of a bunch of dio album covers. he was so awesome i probably spent more time watching him than i did watching the band.
after he took off his shirt, he did another few rounds around the pit and then stopped in the middle and started doing this weird, jerky interpretation of the robot. it was like some wonderful dream.
eventually, he wound up barreling toward these two young-looking girls who looked like they thought it was going to be more like a coldplay show or something. they looked like they were with like an aunt or an older cousin or something and were really grossed out about the whole situation. so they see this human locomotive glistening with the mingled sweat of probably 50 old, scummy punk dudes bearing down on them, and they literally shrieked and tried to run away but couldn't because of the crowd. i didn't really see the impact, but i'm sure he got his gross fat guy sweat all over them. i can only imagine their enthusiasm was considerably... dampened! a-ha ha ha!
after that, he whipped off his belt and threw it at the stage for some inscrutable reason and then had to stuff his shirt down the back of his pants. it was a sight to see... he left soon after and i was really disappointed.
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