Friday, July 15, 2005

Links and whatnot

I meant to do a links brief yesterday but Johnny enticed me to Wrigley for a free Pirates-Cubs game.

We ended up in his CFO's alarmingly bad season seats, first row of "upper deck reserved" (a nice way of saying "nosebleed, neck-craning seats") where I sat next to and in front of two incredibly overweight women and behind a number of spider-webs, while I turned my body 30 degrees counterclockwise to get a view of the field, through said spider web, since the Wrigley architects didn't feel seats should face the field. Understandable since the park is almost 100 years old. Ah, what a place.

After watching innumerable games in the press box, I've become quite the seat snob. And after trying to navigate my way through the slow-moving crowd, not to mention my illustrious fall last season, I'm not quite the fan of the old bandbox anymore.

All in all, not a bad time, between the Pirates getting two-hit, a giggly 19-year-old yammering in our ear while Johnny surreptitiously looked up her short jean skirt. The highlight was during the girl's 15th phone call of the game, her "date" leaned over to us and whispered, "This girl's so fucking annoying. I just met her yesterday."

Second goes to the girl telling us by the time she's our age, she'll be married. As Epstein would say, "Thanks sweety."

Possibly going to Old St. Pat's this weekend, a block party Johnny refers to as a "Christian singles fest." I don't know exactly what that means - lots of Kumbayas and baloney sandwiches on white bread perhaps. Anyway should provide some good by-play at least.

Links:
http://news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/ap/20050714/ap_on_go_co/clinton_video_games_2
Yeah, violent video games are the problem. So is Marilyn Manson. You know the Slick Willies, they probably invested in this game company, and now profits should skyrocket. I mean, sex in a video game? Why leave the house?

http://www.stamfordadvocate.com/news/local/scn-sa-nor.reader2jul14,0,5780027.story?coll=stam-news-local-headlines
This is pretty fucked up and I would never make light of a potential sex crime, but the fact that the guy works for Weekly Reader isn't that surprising. I mean, who didn't know that was a gay sex rag in elementary school. The answer to the jumble was always "filching."

http://www.caazone.com/boards/viewtopic.php?p=360293#360293
If you follow college basketball, you'll appreciate this photo of Gary Williams, sweaty ref baiter, working some young trim. You have to scroll down a bit.

http://news.yahoo.com/fc/world/media_watch
And Karl Rove always seemed like such a nice, honest guy...

http://mlbplayers.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/pa/news/article.jsp?ymd=20050711&content_id=1126184&vkey=mlbpa_news&fext=.jsp
While ESPN has Peter Gammons examining the second half of the baseball season, the Trib has their experts, SI has Tom Verducci, the Player's Association has, well, me.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Reviews and such

Well it's quarter to 10 and about three months behind on a usual posting schedule. So I can either get to work on the job that pays me or feed the procrastination of a few lost souls out there in the workforce. So in the spirit of Bad Idea Jeans ("I mean I know I should have worn a condom but when am I going to get back to Haiti?"), I'll go with the latter and roll the dice, as usual, on the former.

Reviews: Saw "Hustle & Flow" last week at a sneak preview mixed intermittenly with hipsters and an urban focus group, which incredibly included more than a handful of young kids who probably shouldn't be watching a movie about a pimp on the come up. Maybe, it's just me, but I thought the two tikes in the Chicago Parks District T-shirts were adorable shouting "Whomp that trick!"

All sociological scatting aside, I highly recommend this movie. Strangely enough it's an MTV-produced movie, but then again so was Napoeleon Dynamite, but it's more of a Southern "8 Mile," except this movie's slutty white girl (Taryn Manning taking "trashy hot" to new, exciting levels) is actually a prostitute - and a $20-40 one to boot!

Terrence Dashon Howard is the lead role DJay and is rigidly intense in his role as pimp (hustle) and rapper (flow).

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005024/

H&F is a little formulaic at times, but what movie isn't, really? Even "Napoleon" ends with a dance sequence and the always-unimportant high school election.

The movie's two fictional tracks will bounce around your head for a few days, not unlike "That Thing You Do" from "That Thing You Do." Except these songs are about bitches and ho's.

Also checked out "The Pain and the Itch" at Steppenwolf Theatre on Saturday, after the tapas and before the fondue, and no, I never thought I would type or say that before.

It's described as a "dark, dark comedy" which is a pretty solid description. The first half had a number of laugh-out-loud moments while the second half delved deeper into the dark problems of a dysfunctional upper-class suburban family in Chicago.

Highlights include hot Northwestern grad Kate Arrington as befuddled, racist foreigner Kalina, the comedic stylings of some old lady and my girlfriend's uncomfortable laughter as she sat next to my mom when the wife compared her husband's erstwhile beard to a vagina.

http://www.steppenwolf.org/boxoffice/productions/index.aspx?id=317

The chocolate fondue and tapas were excellent, by the way.

Monday, June 27, 2005

Return of the Blog, part like 6 or 7

OK, no excuses. I'm lazy and hadn't felt like blogging much. Add to that the fact that this computer (my, um, "work" computer) can't do links and I canceled internet at my apt, well, those are all enablers for my epic laziness. (and the fact that my laptop has been in my office all weekend, where the AC mysteriously broke, well, let's just say I'm afraid to boot it up.)

After more than a month of e-mails, sarcastic blog responses and angry looting of my apartment by a Segway-wielding masked man, not to mention nagging by my girlfriend, I'm up and active again.

So, what's new?

Not much here (another reason I've been lax). The girlfriend's still awesome, as the sarcastic poster who mocked my frequent mentions of her is excited to hear, work's still work. The AC's still broken right now, so I've been sweating through 90-degree office heat since 8:30 in the morning, which is doing wonders for my productivity.

Yesterday I caught the Gay Pride Parade and then a teenage lesbian art movie (not Rochelle, Rochelle, but close). I was a little disappointed in the lack of over-the-top nudity/teenage scampering in the movie but I'd recommend it. (It's called "My Summer of Love" by the way, so don't go to Clark and Diversity asking for the "hot teenage lesbo movie." They might send you to a "Very Long Engagement" or "Sack Lunch."

I'm too hot for much coherent thought right now, so I'll end you with a brief story and two quotes.

My step-father (heretofore known as Dad) and his father, my grandpa, were quite the clotheshorses. Purple, plaid, rawhide. They'd wear it all, mostly at the same time. My grandpa, who literally would wear all-purple outfits, passed away two summers ago. My dad finally sold the house and is in the process of cleaning it out.

Last night he asked me if I wanted any of grandpa's ultra-suede sports coats. When I told him politely, absolutely not. He remarked, "Remember you'll be 60 one day."

Then my brother told him today that ultra suede is out-dated (which begs the question, when was it in style?), Dad brings out the big guns, remarking in classic fashion:

"Ultrasuede sportcoats are always elegant, for years executives have been wearing them."

Friday, May 27, 2005

Mrs. Israel crowned hottest wife in the world, without John Shear's knowledge!

http://www.ujc.org/content_display.html?ArticleID=146632

Yes, John, King of All Jewish Media, missed this enormous Israel-related story, which is tough since he's constantly tapped into the third-rate entertainment news of his mother country. But luckily, fellow pervert/Israel fan Eli caught the Mrs. World pageant on PAX and called me to alert me of it and Mrs. Israel's victory (it was taped a week ago in India).

Unfortunately, I missed the proceedings as I was watching Britney/Kevin Chaotic on MTV with the little woman. While Mrs. World might have brightened my spirits, Chaotic made me question life in many ways. To call this show a train wreck would be disrespectful to Amtrak.

We sat in stunned silence before the lady checked the time of the show. "It's an hour?" she said, exasperated. Thirty minutes in, we couldn't take any more of Britney's jiggly camera work, inane questioning and constant fascination with thumbing her nose to make it look porcine. Watching her intentionally breaking up Kevin Federline's relationship and family was painful, but not as much as hearing about her 40-year-old assistant's sex life.

I don't know what depressed the woman more, this show or Sin City. But I think we both agree, Britney and Kevin deserve some of the bloodshed we saw in Sin City, and soon.

Thursday, May 26, 2005

Summer at the Hamptons? I'll be there...

... if by the Hamptons, you mean North Ave. beach, and if by North Ave. beach, you mean the Walgreens at North at Wells, and if by the Walgreens at North and Wells, you mean the sketchy magazine stand outside the store where I buy my "Barely Legal," then yes, I'm there all summer long baby.

But anyway, Garden Apartment fave, and still the only person I've met off Friendster (see previous post), Jasmin Rosemberg wrote a sizzling review (sizzling: a word used only by celebrity gossip writers and Ruth's Chris waiters) of the Hamptons scene for the esteemed NY Post.

http://specialsections.nypost.com/news/nypost/hamptons/20050526/p56.asp

(It's on p. 56-57 of what I'm sure is the most important NY Post insert of the season.)

This illustrates the difference between freelance writers in different fields, or at the very least between Jasmin and myself. While she's hobnobbing with the guy who's banging one of the Olsen waifs and writing a book about sexy 20-somethings in New York, I'm tracking down boys lacrosse coaches and waiting for half-naked athletes to spout cliches.

Friendster taps new CEO, old CEO goes back to waiting tables at Friday's

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20050525/ap_on_hi_te/friendster_social_networking

Who knew Friendster had an old CEO, let alone a new one? What's he the CEO of, hobbies and interests?

As my girlfriend would say, "I don't get Friendster."

I've said it before, If I was CEO of Friendster, instead of CEO of Garden Apartment and Jon Greenberg Enterprises, I would change the social networking garbage to "Friendster: Stalk in Private." There's little use to Friendster except to look at hot girls/guys and wonder to yourself, "Could I date him/her?" Now that I have a girlfriend (who is lovely, by the way), Friendster holds little to no interest for me, except when a friend is going out with a girl and you can check up on her assets and know whether she likes to read Jemima J, Good in Bed or Bergdorf Blondes. (Because as we all know, girls can't understand any literature that doesn't involve: shopping, gossipy girls in the big city or fat girls looking for love.)

One friend, whom I'll call John Shear, once invited a girl to visit him from Friendster. Needless to say she was hideous in person with a personality to match. With a figure Jdate would describe as "nearly zaftig," she cracked, "The Midwest is full of fat people." Actually I think she said that, as she was licking the olive oil/cheese concoction off her plate at Tucci Benucch at the time, engaged in a massive eating contest with Rob Bressler.

Embarassed, and deservedly so, John refused to take her out that night with his friends, and she slept on the couch at 11 p.m.

Full disclosure: There was no point to this post, I just laughed when I saw the Friendster story on the wire.

Monday, May 23, 2005

Four years and counting...

It's that time of year again, graduation time. Earnest, wet-behind-the-ears, young go-getters are receiving their diplomas and going off to Europe before starting their low-level jobs in and around this grand country of ours.

Most of them will soon be making more money than me, including those whose parents are paying for them to trek around Western Europe, staying in hostels and trying to hook up without catching scabies from some infested hostel bedsheets.

It's now been four years since I've graduated from Ohio University with a B.S. in journalism. The class that came in after I left is getting ready to leave Athens to conquer the world.

Since I'm a regretful son of a bitch by nature, I've been thinking about what I've accomplished in four years, which was a lifetime when I went to college.

Professionally, I'm stagnant. Personally, I'm on the upswing, at least relationship-wise. Financially, again stagnant. Physically, still trying to work off those pounds I gained junior year of college.

As I try to (finally) decide on my next path in life, be it journalism, grad school or interpretative dance, I've been thinking about what exactly I've been doing since June 2001.

June-Aug. 2001: Nothing. Failed to plan ahead for the summer. With an internship in Israel, starting in the fall, thought it would be "fun" to stay at home for the first time in three years. Not so good of an idea. Frittered away graduation cash, worked sparingly at local rag of a newspaper and actually toiled in warehouse of local Circuit City, even serving as part-time custodian with a guy who was probably retarded. Also, got negative ass.

Sept 2001-Dec. 2001: After a brief delay, got to Israel for internship of my mother's dream for the AP. Turned out to be nothing special, did some boring stories, spent a lot of time e-mailing people. Much like now. Israel, especially Jerusalem, not so beautiful in late fall, early winter. Kind of chilly actually. Got so used to boring life, never traveled much nor did I meet any exotic women. Hooked up with three Americans of varying attractiveness: lone highlight was getting "bought" in bachelor auction for roughly $7.50 American, which preceded a pretty darn good hook up story.

Dec. 2001 -Feb 2002: Back at home. At one point, my dad chides me for not taking a part-time job at Wendy's up the street. That about sums it up. After dodging an editor's call at one point, I'm forced to take a job in Yuma, Ariz.

Feb. 2002 - April 2003: This truly begins the rough patch in my life, known as the post-college years. My first real job was with a small newspaper in a border town in Arizona. I was making roughly the same as I would've at said Wendy's without the benefits of free hamburgers.

Poverty is not best served in 115 degree heat. My roommate Ben and I had a few hijinks that made it worthwhile, including the time we (possibly illegal situation delated) and the time I (wouldn't be prudent to talk about that) and the time Ben (man, that was dumb).

Also I covered a bad minor-league baseball league and ate a lot of burritos.

April 2003: Moved to Chicago with some (possibly illegal) tax return cash and knowing, quite macabrely, that I was getting some money that summer from my Nanny's will.

I hooked up not three days into my stay here, thinking it was the harbinger of a wild, debaucherour, sex-filled journey into young adulthood.

It would be three months, and one more dead grandparent, before I hooked up again.

July 2003: Several important things happened this month. First off, my beloved grandpa (on my step-father's side) passed away. I heard the news on a ride to the suburbs to cover a baseball game ( I was way lost at the time, and late) and promptly turn around. Later I found out my mother had e-mailed me, asking me to call him because I missed him.

After I returned from the funeral, things picked a little. I hooked up again with a libidinous Catholic ex-schoolgirl, and doing so sans wingman. It lasted about six weeks and really had no bearing on much else, but it was good times.

Before that, and actually it might have been June, but for continuity's sake, we'll say it's July, I met my future girlfriend at Jewish late-night hangout Jay's (RIP). Johnny set his sights on her early and close-talked his way into a walk-home makeout session and several, uneventful dates.

She now says she really wanted me, but I was stuck dragging around my friend Lori, who was visiting the city. A year-and-a-half later, who knew I'd be the one close-talking her at a bar and getting booted out of her apartment?

Also I quit my short-lived attempt at real estate, or renting crappy apartments. I actually lost money at this job. Thankfully, I still had the Republic.

Aug. 2003: Visiting mother makes all-time funny comment. Over dinner, Johnny asks her about said Catholic girl, "What do you think about Mary Beth?"

Mom, tipsy from her martini, replies, "You can date her and you can sleep with her, but you're not marrying her."

Somewhere in the North SIde, her parents nod their heads in agreement.

Sept. 2003: Big month. First I got re-hired at the company I interned for in 2000, thus providing me with steady but low wages to supplement my freelance work. Extra flow allows me to buy more Republic clothing and ...

...move into the Garden Apartment.

Oct. 2003: Move into the unbelievably priced Garden Apartment. Everyone declares it will be nice once you fix it up. Nineteen months later, still a piece of crap. Roommate last exactly 10 days in apartment before a weekend getaway in Steubenville. Still waiting for him to pick up some stuff.

Find new roommate, Megan, and she lasts May, when she hightails it to Wrigleyville with crazier friend.

Her tenure is mostly forgettable: kissed one friend, stared at other, hotter, sluttier friend while she sleeps on couch.

March 2004: Travel north to Milwaukee. Hook up with girl in hotel room, which annoys Johnny to no end, prompting his comment, "You could've made her give ME a hand job."

June 2004: Travel back to Israel for birthright trip. Got no ass and mostly annoyed people with comments about "when I was here..."

July 2004: Watched Epstein shock cheap hookers in Vegas hotel room with antics.

Dec. 2004: Run into now girlfriend at Matzo Ball. She declares lust for me. Single life effectively over.

Jan. 2005- present: Work and scrape by a living while trying to balance a healthy relationship. Occasionally write a blog.

And that's about it. I'm still slightly fat and still completely broke. But I guess I've filled in a decent amount in these four years. I'm not exactly where I thought I'd be, but I'm not that far off.

Now if only I didn't have these student loans...

Sunday, May 22, 2005

Links and such

Here's some links to start your Monday or end your Sunday, depending on when you read me, if you still read me, that is, since I have the regularity of a Ren and Stimpy season.

From the woman who brought you one of the movies about teenage girls that one of my friends jerks it to:
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/05/23/movies/23dogt.html?hp

Artest, crazy or just cuckoo?:

http://www.detnews.com/2005/pistons/0505/22/C12-189302.htm

The story:

Weird scene

The Pistons were still shaking their heads at what happened Thursday night as they were on their bus inside the loading-dock area of Conseco Fieldhouse.

It was between 11:30 and midnight and the Pistons' bus was about to leave the arena for the airport.

Suddenly, a dark Escalade roared into the loading dock, nearly hitting several people.

Out jumped Ron Artest, the Pacers forward who got a seasonlong suspension for his part in the Nov. 19 brawl.

According to Pistons players on the bus, Artest was wearing an old (and short) pair of shorts. He had no shoes on and, upon getting out of the vehicle, he tore off his T-shirt.

Given the history between Artest and the Pistons, the team's security officials were on high alert. But Artest made no motion toward the bus. He simply walked, bare-chested and bare-footed, into the building, presumably for a midnight workout.

"There's something going on there," Ben Wallace said, not wanting to comment further.

<>Bad career choice: Hope you're not majoring in communication, buddy...

http://media.ebaumsworld.com/sportsnews.wmv