Garden Apartment

Links and whatnot

2005-07-15T10:46:00.000-05:00

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.

Reviews and such

2005-07-14T09:47:00.000-05:00

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.

Return of the Blog, part like 6 or 7

2005-06-27T15:43:00.000-05:00

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."

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

2005-05-27T12:05:00.000-05:00

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.

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

2005-05-26T11:12:00.000-05:00

... 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

2005-05-26T10:02:00.000-05:00

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.

Four years and counting...

2005-05-23T14:40:00.000-05:00

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...

Links and such

2005-05-22T18:23:00.000-05:00

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

Larry David, funnier than me

2005-05-10T11:58:00.000-05:00

No surprise there, but here's his entry on Arianna Huffington's celebrity blog, link and full entry:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/theblog/featuredposts.html#a000443

I know this may not sound politically correct, but as someone who has abused and tormented employees and underlings for years, I am dismayed by all of this yammering directed at John Bolton. Let's face it, the people who are screaming the loudest at Bolton have never been a boss and have no idea what it’s like to deal with nitwits as dumb as themselves all day long. Why, even this morning my moronic assistant handed me a cup of coffee with way too much milk in it. I was incensed.

"You stupid ignoramus," I screamed, doing all I could to restrain myself from tossing the luke-warm liquid in her face. “There's too much freaking (I didn’t say freaking) milk in here! What the freak is wrong with you?!”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she stammered. Like sorry’s going to fix everything. I’m not interested in sorry. Sorry doesn’t cut it with me.

“Look, you idiot,” I continued, “I wouldn’t mind so much if you gave me too little milk. Little can be fixed. We can add to little.”

“Shall I get you another cup?”

“No, I’ll suck on my thumb. Yes, get me another cup, you douche bag! And chew on this -- it’s going to cost you a dollar!”

This, of course, brought on the requisite tears. At which point I'd had enough and began chasing her down the hall where she took refuge in the bathroom. Boo-hoo. Poor thing!

Meanwhile, I’m the one who had to go into the kitchen and make my own coffee! And guess what? I missed a very important phone call from this masseuse whom I’d been trying to get an appointment with forever!!

(Sorry about all the exclamation points, but you can see how worked up I get over this Bolton business!)

There is one thing, though, I’ll guarantee: that will be the last time she puts in too much milk. So get to work, Bolton. Show these other countries who’s the boss.

More excuses on why I don't write more often, and other crap

2005-05-10T11:25:00.000-05:00

My eyes are heavy this morning. My stomach is heavy too. I’ve been on a non-stop work schedule for the past week, going from my job to my other job at a non-stop pace.

I left Wrigley at 1 in the morning today, slept a bit, and now I’m back in the office, unable to find the requisite energy to start my day. The (quite delicious) sirloin I had in the press box, combined with my lunch burrito yesterday, has probably shortened my life by a week at least.

Essentially right at this moment, I’m just fat and lazy. But when you’re sitting in cramped press boxes writing on deadline for five of the last seven days, you tend to become bleary-eyed and overstuffed on ballpark dining fare.

Then again, I can’t complain. As Tupac says, “I like paying rent when the rent is due.” (Although, that’s not actually true in my case, as rent is typically due on the first of every month, and I’ve still yet to pay for the garden apartment, but you get the picture.)

I’m racking my brain to think of funny stories to share, but since I’ve become a kept man, the truly outlandish personal ones have fallen by the wayside, making space for notes like: I went to the girlfriend’s friends’ nice townhouse to watch the Bulls game. We cooked out and ate strawberry shortcake and then went home and slept.

Last Saturday, I thought would pick up my weekend, but after a quiet dinner with the lady, we went to Johnny’s to watch basketball and headed over to a girl’s apartment for a party.

Now Johnny always looks on the bright side. He still crows about how this girl’s “boobs popped out of his shirt” at a previous party. But for the second time in a row that I’ve attended a party of hers, her parents were there, thus shelving any bosomy hopes. Also she was spotted dust-busting around the appetizers with a small dog in her other hand.

Sunday I worked and tried to play tennis afterward. It’s been three years since I swung some stick and now my left hand has gone Bob Dole on me and my ankle’s gimpy.

Now for … Hot or Not!

Hot: Seeing Will Ferrell sing the 7th inning stretch
Not: Seeing Jim Belushi sing the 7th inning stretch
Really not: Being told you look like a young, thin John Belushi (Was he ever thin? My girlfriend asked.)

Hot: Coffee
Not: Spilling coffee all over your desk, your phone, etc.

Hot: Relievers offering you box of Thin Mints
Not: Relievers who lose the game and keep you waiting at their locker after the game as they lotion up with cocoa butter

****

GRAB-ASS: A popular Chelsea gym is being sued for encouraging some homo slap and tickle in the locker room. Shocking.

The NY Post reports:

Meanwhile, a rep for Barton, responding to The Post's story on the suit, says there is less gay sex going on inside there than at other gyms around town.

Barton's publicist said yesterday that a cursory search on the popular Craigslist.com showed that Barton's gym is the last place one would frequent for gay sex.

The rep pointed out that there were 31 postings about man-on-man hook-ups at other clubs and zero for the Barton gym.

Barton himself seemed to make light of the lawsuit when the pocket Hercules e-mailed us this pun-packed statement yesterday:

"Every gym has its occasional misbehaving ding dong, and we certainly enforce a strict penal code. Seriously, though, we don't tolerate shenanigans that would impact other members' experience of our gyms, as customer service is paramount to us."

One fancy boy responds quite logically:

"Don't go to a known gay gym if you're a heterosexual homophobe!" gym member Stephen Dimmick huffed. "I know they're insanely strict on it. They've revoked people's memberships for [having sex in the gym]. I've seen people get kicked out . . . This is Chelsea. If you're not comfortable, don't come."

*****

COME BACK DAVE: As you probably know, Dave Chappelle’s Show is postponed again as he tries to live up to the hype.
Newsweek, always on the bandwagon of what’s trendy and popular (Uggs anyone?, comes out this week), visited the Chappelle’s Show set last fall and reported on the delays.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/7773670/site/newsweek/

The one skit (The N----r Pixie) the writer saw sounded fucking hilarious, with Dave playing, “a cackling, devil-on-the-shoulder creation who serves as the self-hating conscience of famous black men, such as Tiger Woods and Chappelle himself.” He’s in blackface as he overlooks Wood on the course, yelling, "Show 'em how n----r you are! Stick your d--k in the hole!"

****

I don’t know if you like horse racing, I frankly could careless, but this guy gives an interesting take on the old Smarty Jones (remember him?) phenomenon.

http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/sports/11564921.htm

A quick aside

2005-05-09T20:58:00.000-05:00

So you may have noticed I added a counter to the bottom of the blog. All this does is make me feel guilty as I see the numbers climb and for what, I haven't written anything new since before Katie Holmes started worshipping at the alien-loving altar of Tom Cruise.

So, I'll say the same thing you, my readers, that I say to my girlfriend, my copy editing desks and my creditors: Sorry.

Most writers who take hiatuses do it because they're writing a book or having a kid. Me, I'm just working a lot, trying to make a few more nickels.

I'm currently sitting front-row of the press box at Wrigley (look for me during seventh-inning stretches. I was highly visible on Sportscenter's replay of Will Ferrell duet with Ditka this weekend) awaiting the end of an hour-long rain delay.

I can't write long - I bet my editors would love to hear that phrase once in a while - so I'll just throw in one link that backs up an earlier bone of contention, re: brunch.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/05/08/fashion/sundaystyles/08age.html

I'll try to have more manana.

JG

Playoff banter and such...

2005-05-02T16:08:00.000-05:00

Phoenix Suns 12th man/social scientist/pseudo-cheerleader Paul Shirley brings back his blog for the playoffs.

http://www.nba.com/suns/news/shirley_playoff_blog.html

In non-blog news, I spilled coffee all over my desk today, rendering my phone useless. New phone, and possibly new number coming shortly.

In related news, Yaheli, the last person on my contacts list, if your call log said I've called you 100 times today it's not my fault. It's the phone. Please don't send your arsim boyfriend after me, all gelled up and sleeveless.

Eric Nies gets knocked out and other goofy tales from reality TV

2005-05-02T10:08:00.000-05:00

Ever wonder what happened to busty, mannish Paradise Hotel star and former Chicago bartender/workout queen Toni Ferrari? Or how do people react when they see Eric Nies in person?
Or what the hell Veronica does when she's not on the RW/RR Challenge? Read here in the NY Times! I don't think the founders of the Old Gray Lady would approve of this one...

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/05/01/fashion/sundaystyles/01REAL.html
(registration required, but if you haven't registered for the NY Times, what are you waiting for?)

Some graphs to nibble on:

Toni Ferrari, 30, the volatile blonde from Fox's "Paradise Hotel" and "Love Cruise," said that in her experience, "Hollywood frowns on reality because we're not looked at as real talent." She appeared in the two series, which offered six-figure prizes for competitive coupling, in hopes of furthering an acting career. But since then, she said, even after temporarily disguising herself by dyeing her hair dark brown, she has been laughed out of auditions and asked to leave several improvisational acting classes by fellow students who accused her of being a sellout. "People don't realize that I only did this because I was hoping I'd get another chance," she said.

Ms. Ferrari, who has been called in to provide commentary on Fox Reality for rebroadcasts of "Love Cruise," hopes her updated on-air persona will help rehabilitate her image. "It feels good when I'm recognized, but it's not because I did something well," said Ms. Ferrari, who is now bartending to pay the bills.

(Toni, BTW, used to work at Hogs 'n Honeys and work out at the Multiplex, throwing around big chips and generally intimidating most of the men. One of our friends once asked her drunkenly at Circus, "When you gonna give some of us white guys a chance? You're all about the brothers." Needless to say, he was thrown out rather quickly.)

From the pseudo-lesbo files of the Challenge:

Rachel Robinson, who appeared on MTV's "Road Rules" in 2002, has been doing about 10 appearances a month for the past three years, speaking mostly at colleges about sexual and ethnic diversity. She said that while the pay is good - $2,000 to $3,000 a gig - she and a "Road Rules" co-star, Veronica Portillo, have recently decided to move in another direction. About a month ago they started a T-shirt company called College Dropout.

The designs (with phrases like "switch hitters" and "coochie couture") parlay their image - as the two girls who took part in a threesome during an episode in 2002 - into what they hope will be a successful business.

"We turn down appearances because we have to work," said Ms. Robinson, 22. "To me this T-shirt business is about longevity."

Who doesn't want to punch Eric Nies? He should charge for it:

"I came outside, and the girls there were doing their thing, and some guy sneaked in a punch," Mr. Nies said of the blow he took two years ago outside a nightclub in Iowa. After appearing on "The Real World" he went on to release the "Grind Workout" videocassette series, but the assault knocked him out cold. And the $5,000 fee didn't offer much consolation. "I'll never do another club again," he said.

Actually, he relented after that statement. "No seriously, I'll work a club. You know somewhere? Seriously man, I need to eat. Do you have a Powerbar?"

*****

From the weekend files...

Hot: Limey girls who smoke pot on street corners
Not: Girls who spend too much time with their parents

Hot: Wearing grey Nike T-shirts to work out
Not: Wearing grey Nike T-shirts on dates
Normal: Doing this if you're Miller

Hot: Catching the Emily Valentine-era 90210 episodes on TV
Not: When your GF makes you watch them at 7 a.m. on a Saturday

*****
Ohio fans only (As only Ohio fans would give a fuck about this story):

I don't know about you, but I missed this in the agate
page. Larry Hunter's back to chopping wood! And his former assistant, and all around scoring maching, Geno Ford took the underwhelming task of heading up D3 Muskingum, aka Local Athlete University for those in Eastern Ohio.

http://www.collegesports.com/sports/m-baskbl/stories/042905aae.html

(A stat in the above link says 30 of the 38 players who completed their eligibility under him graduated. I find that really hard to believe. I do know one of them is in federal prison in Indiana...)

http://www.collegesports.com/sports/m-baskbl/stories/042905aaf.html

http://www.statefansnation.com/index.php/archives/2005/04/28/chalk-it-up-larry-hunter-is-gone

Dude, it's 4/21!

2005-04-21T16:57:00.000-05:00

Well, I forgot 4/20 again. I'm not sure if I ever celebrated it at OU, where pot smoking was often de rigeur. But at least I knew it was coming. I had no idea yesterday was pot smoking Christmas. I guess I'm getting old. Well, thank G-d for heroin.

Anyway, here's a hilarious article from Cannabis, USA, from our Chief Dope Correspondent Emily Peska, and her "420 buddy," aka her tube-pulling boyfriend. The Chicago girl quoted in her is awesome. I'll take a stab: She's from the North Shore. The money-hungry Republicans are another highlight in what is a comprehensive look at how CU students get down:

http://www.coloradodaily.com/articles/2005/04/21/news/news01.txt

In Athens, where the cheeba monkeys keep busy playing on the fairly new frisbee golf course, Afroman came. Yes, that's right, Afroman. You know, the guy who rapped, "Cuz I got high, cuz I got high." Yes, OU draws all the hot acts. Coming next week, G. Love and Special Sauce.

http://www.thepost.ohiou.edu/show_news.php?article=N6&date=042005

And at Northwestern, there was a multi-cultural seder and a Dance Marathon meeting! When will the Jewish Theater Ensemble come out with a play based on Black Jews who love to dance all night? When, dammit?!

http://www.dailynorthwestern.com/vnews/display.v/ART/2005/04/21/42676112b23e9

http://www.dailynorthwestern.com/vnews/display.v/ART/2005/04/21/42673b9c8ed32

And at Indiana, a school populated with well-to-do suburban Jewish girls, well, all they care about is blowjobs. After reading this column, the prevailing attitude around the SDT and AEPhi houses were, "Omigod! Crush party!"

http://www.idsnews.com/subsite/story.php?id=29040

Arrgh! Avast ye blog

2005-04-18T12:35:00.000-05:00

When I'm old and gray, and presumably fatter than I am now, * I probably won't regale my children with stories of college student senate elections.

Like the majority of us, I found mine to be, well, pretty dumb. Since I worked at the school paper, I was familiar with the candidates and voted once or twice. My senior year, my roommate ran on a ticket, and won handily, though his party lost. That wasn't surprising since they ran three white guys from the same fraternity, all business majors, as their top three. Not exactly a diverse ticket. I think one of them may have worn a J. Crew shirt instead of Polo, and another one never actually drugged a girl into submission, but my memory is fuzzy at best.

I remember visiting Johnny at Northwestern my sophomore year and reading a weird story about their elections. NU is full of eccentric goofballs who would run for student senate and make a big deal about it. One guy that year went by the name "Evil Dave," and part of his platform was to get rid of newly proposed names for the seperate colleges. Like the school of Arts and Sciences became the Weinberg school and in the paper, people were identified thusly: John Shear, a Weinberg senior.

"I don't want to be a Weinberg anything," was an Evil Dave quote that stuck in my head. The goofball won, even though he was graduating that Spring.

So this comes up, because it is Student Senate election time at schools across the country. One story I just came across, thanks to Laing Whitaker's Links on cnnsi.com, and thanks to Johnny, is from N.C. State, where a Pirate (!) became student body president.

This guy's campaign became regional, and national news because of well...check out the links:

http://technicianonline.com/story.php?id=011563
http://technicianonline.com/story.php?id=011628

Here's a couple graphs from the first story that illustrate this guy's nuttiness:

The fact was punctuated by the close to 150 students present at the announcement, several of whom where decked in anything from full pirate regalia to cardboard pirate hats obtained from the seafood chain Long John Silvers.

"I hear we got record turnout," the Captain said. "I bae nothing but impressed."

The Captain also said he was thrilled with the prospect of participating in the runoffs and inspired by the support.

"I couldn't bae happier," the Captain said. "The wind bae in our sails. It warms our souls and carries our boats."

*****
The guy who eventually lost to the Captain, captured this story perfectly:

"I wouldn't say that I over- or underestimated The Pirate Captain," Quick said. "[He] was a hard factor to predict."

*****
This story, this inane story, made me miss college almost as much as all of the mainstream media stories on rampant sex on college campuses. Those actually kind of embarass me, as I had very little sex ** to speak of. So in short, I never ran for student senate and I had little sex. But I did write a few kickass stories. Which I guess, is how I got here.

* (which seems to impossible since a bartender this weekend told me, I look like an "younger, skinnier John Belushi." This wouldn't be a problem if a bum didn't call me Belushi five years ago in Evanston, and gf's friend also told her I look like the late, heavyset comedian.)
** Still more than most of my current friends.

Addendum to below...Please read that post first

2005-04-15T15:54:00.000-05:00

Also, the Pope died.

Surprisingly my password works

2005-04-15T15:11:00.000-05:00

Y'know nothing's worse when your friends get on you for procrastinating in doing something that aids their procrastination, i.e., writing this blog. Do you think Tom Friedman's friends dog him when he goes on vacation?

OK, sure, I wasn't on vacation. But maybe I took a "vacation from myself."

If you don't know what that means, read below:
http://www.seinology.com/scripts/script-157.shtml

OK, that's not true either. Really I'm just lazy/busy. Mostly I'm busy being lazy while thinking about being busy. Also I tire quickly, but probably not enough to have chronic fatigue syndrome. I'm somewhere between lackluster and slackass, with moments of extreme hard work-itude.

Basically, I waste enough time so that when I do have work to do, either in my 9:30 to 4:45 or freelance gigs, I have to haul ass and get shit done, thus cramping on my blog time.

Also, I've created a blog for work, which takes up precious blogger.com brainpower.

If you're interested, it's:

http://www.teammarketingreport.blogspot.com/

Here's a recap of the time we've missed together, or the time you missed while I was living life baby!:

Work: We've been busy in the office doing work, obviously. Besides that, we're adjusting to life in Old Town.

Office baseball is becoming the rage as we whack wiffleballs to and fro. Also we rented A Mighty Wind, but only watch the scenes with Fred Willard. I've asked to watch some of the songs, but every time I'm hit with the refrain, "I don't think so!"

As for freelancing, I got to listen to Bo Jackson's lawyer ramble about G-d know's what in relation to a lawsuit they filed against some idiot reporter in Cali, and write this stirring tale:

http://www.sportsline.com/nfl/story/8363133

I kind of watched the Bulls clinch their first playoff berth since Jordan's days, but instead I was scrambling around the United Center with computer problems. They were solved in time to write this:
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2005/basketball/nba/04/09/bc.bkn.raptors.bulls.ap/

(Aside: After that was over, I visited with my friend Luci, who was in town for a wedding. Unfortunately for her, this is what she returned to in Charlotte, N.C., as she lost her apartment to a fire:

http://www.wsoctv.com/news/4369786/detail.html)

Now, here's two vastly different stories I wrote in a day's span:

http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/wire?section=mlb&id=2036677

http://www.dailyherald.com/prepsports/prepstory.asp?id=35120

Social: Like every other good hipster, I went to the Shins concert last night at the Congress Theatre. While the rest of you rubes were watching the O.C. live (I think my gf Tivo'd it), like the rubes you are, I was jamming/slightly moving/OK, nodding to the melodic stylings of the Shins, aka Zach Braff's favorite band.

My friends Martha and John purchased the tickets the day they went on sale, even though they had never actually heard the band's music. Small details.

So they asked me and gf to go. Of course, John, being himself, had to go out of town, and my friend Eli tagged along.

$70 (all told with dinner and cabs) later, I'm not sure it was worth it. The sound was sub-par and I was too full from the all of the pizza I ate pre-show. But at least when people ask me what I did on Thursday, I can pop the collar of my track jacket, nod my head and say, "I saw the Shins at the Congress."

"Oh yeah? Good show?"

"Yeah, you know. No big deal."

Financial: I paid my taxes two days early. Good times. Small change back on federal, thanks to some wise deductions. Penthouse Forum, business expense, check! And I owed some $60 to the state, which will probably line some lobbyists's Dockers downstate.

Also, I have the net worth of a tsetse fly.

But at least I have you, my fans...

Finally...

2005-04-01T10:28:00.000-06:00

...someone found a use for a Segway (Sorry Phil, using it to go from the bedroom to the bathroom isn't proper usage).

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/04/01/travel/escapes/01segway.html

Hilarious:

Most Bay Area Segway Enthusiast Group members own only one Segway, which sell for around $5,000. Although the stated mission of the group is to promote public acceptance of the machines, many members spend more time playing polo on them than proselytizing for them. Mr. Bauer, in fact, who lives in San Francisco, where Segways are prohibited on sidewalks, said that his was used only for the Sunday matches.

"I used to ride mine more, but part of me got tired of dealing with the negativity," Mr. Bauer said. "You can't use them on the sidewalk, and if you do, people are yelling at you. Or they're thinking of you as a yuppie, which in a sense you are."

More hilarious:

This was not the dream of Dean Kamen, inventor of the Segway Human Transporter, when he rolled out the first model in 2001. Easy to ride and ecofriendly, the Segway was hailed as an innovation that would revolutionize the modern city.

Just how much has changed is perhaps evident in the transportation used by players to get to their polo matches. Most drive. Mr. Wozniak often shows up in his Hummer, hauling four Segways in the back.

Only at Arizona

2005-03-29T22:31:00.000-06:00

...would this be a way to raise money for tsunami relief. Ipods and gratuitous near-nudity

http://www.ipose.org/

And the best part about it is that the AEPi chapter (which my brother scorned during his solid year there) is in charge of it. G-d bless those idiots.

I'm torn on which girl should win, though I already cast one vote for "Maddison" the blond Pi Phi. But only because her parents felt a need to an extra 'd' to her already trendy name.

(I notice that most of these girls are freshmen and sophomores. Surprisingly, most of the coked-out seniors didn't want to participate.)

Apropos of nothing...

2005-03-29T15:09:00.000-06:00

...here's a transcript of the Saturday Night Live episode, circa 1992, where they have the Mr. Belvedere fan club. This skit came up in conversation last week and I've been obsessing over it. All hail Brocktoon!

http://snltranscripts.jt.org/91/91sbelvedere.phtml

This part is my favorite. It comes right after they vote not to kill Mr. Belvedere so Chris Farley's character can impress a girl (who's probably a lesbo anyway):

Mr. Chairman: The Nays have it. He lives. But the vote shouldn't have been that close. Which brings me to an area I think we need to discuss. Now, I got a letter from Mr. Belvedere's publicist. It seems somebody has been killing his housepets again. Now, I'm not gonna ask which one of you is doing it, but I do think we need to do our exercises.

Comic: What exercise?

Phil: The exercise that helps keep the line between reality and fantasy a little less blurry. You'll see.

Mr. Chairman: Okay, who wants to start?

Cheryl: Okay. I should want to shake hands with Mr. Belvedere, I shouldn't want to grab a lock of his hair.

Mr. Chairman: That's good, Cheryl. And, even though it would be really neat to have a lock of his hair, we know that's not right. Someone else?

Mike: Yeah. Okay. I should want to send him a fan letter telling him how good he was in the episode where he teaches everyone how to cook, but I shouldn't want to type the letter on a death certificate.

Mr. Chairman: Yes! But, then, you learned that one the hard way, huh? Okay, so let's keep going. Come on.

Adam: I should like watching "Mr. Belvedere" a lot, but I shouldn't have to masturbate at the end of every episode.

Mr. Chairman: That's right. That is right. Discipline. Next?

Melanie: Uh, yeah! I should want to cook Brocktoon a simple dinner if he truly accepts the offer, but not if I sense that he accepts it telepathically.

Mr. Chairman: Yes, okay.. but let's keep the exercise in the form of "should" and "shouldn't", okay? Next?

Phil: I should want to cook him a simple meal, but I shouldn't want to cut into him, to tear the flesh, to wear the flesh, to be born unto new worlds where his flesh becomes my key.

Mr. Chairman: [ considering ] Good.

Doug: I got one. I should want to say hi to him nicely, I shouldn't want to keep him in a big jar in my basement.

Mr. Chairman: Alright, Doug, that's great, we understand that now. Go on, though. Why shouldn't you put him in a big jar in your basement?

Doug: Because.. his breath would fog up the glass, and I wouldn't be able to see him..?
****
My girlfriend kind of feels this way about Adam Brody from the OC, but it's OK as long as she keeps doing similar exercises.

Media Criticism 101

2005-03-28T23:54:00.000-06:00

My first job in journalism came at my hometown newspaper, the Herald-Star. I was never impressed with the operation beforehand, but it wasn't a bad start.

I was 19 and I liked to see my name in print.

Now I'm 26 and I'd stab myself with a Bic if I had a byline in this paper. Here's a reason why:

This is a story about an 85-year-old woman who's worked at historic Drover's Inn restaurant since ... 1979! I mean that's 25 years at one job. And a bad job at that. She works the buffet line. And the restaurant's only been around since 1967 and it's known for its wingies. Man, that's history.

http://www.hsconnect.com/news/story/0328202005_new01news032805.asp

Here's a 48-inch (about 1,500 words) tale of a local woman who was on the Price is Right.

http://www.hsconnect.com/news/story/0328202005_new02news032805.asp

To put this in perspective, it's a little longer than this story about Sunni insurgents in Iraq from the NY Times.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/03/29/international/middleeast/29sunni.html

Needless to say, it's a little too much about the Price is Right. Thankfully she wasn't on Supermarket Sweep.

Judging by this paragraph, she's more than impressed with the magic of Hollywood:

Polchinski said when she presented Barker with the T-shirt, he held it up to the camera. "Of course, Hollywood can do anything so whether or not they keep that or edit it out, we'll find out," she said.

Here's a really long way to describe a simple Price is Right game:

Polchinski's next game was guessing the price of a minivan during the Lucky 7 game, a competition where a contestant gets $7. The object of the game is to guess the price digit by digit, paying the host the difference in dollars between the actual number and number guessed. The player has to guess the price and still have $1 left at the end of the game.

Polchinski had $2 left near the end and was getting help from her group when she chose a 4 but the number was a 2 so she had to surrender her last $2.

She didn't mind not winning the vehicle, however, and figured she was done at that point. Polchinski found herself sitting next to a woman named Juanita, who was elated to even be in the audience. Polchinski said she picked up on her enthusiasm and suggested, "Imagine what heaven will be like."

And oh yeah, in case you couldn't tell, this woman's a little religious.

I don't heart brunch and other curmudgeonly, needless musings

2005-03-28T14:55:00.000-06:00

I have been told recently, but not for the first time, that I am too critical of people, places, lifestyles and such and such.

If you've ever read this site, or met me even for a few minutes, you know this to be true.

I was reminded of this in a semi-loving, semi-nagging way yesterday, Easter Sunday. The impetus for my charmingly benign negativity was a holiday visit to Bucktown.

Bucktown and adjoining Wicker Park, for my non-Chicago readers, is a fully gentrified neighborhood bordering the West Side. You may have seen it in the John Cusack vehicle "High Fidelity."

It used to be either a hellhole or affordable place to live in the city but has been revitalized (or "discovered") in the past 15 or so years and is considered a trendy, up and coming neighborhood bubbling with new, high-priced condos, fancy stores and restaurants. It is also popular for live music venues like the Double Door, divey bars and a newer collection of sceney bars. Cans and Northside Tap are popular ones.

It's also a "great place" for brunch.

Now if you know me, you know I'm not much of a brunch eater. Besides the fact I take no overt pleasure from trying out new restaurants or even eating at places without TVs if not for special occasions, especially those when I'm not paying. I'm even less of a fan of brunch. I'm not a breakfast person, or a morning person, and my ideal breakfast would be a bagel and coffee. My ideal lunch would be a slice of pizza and a coke. (I guess that would make my ideal brunch a pizza bagel, but that was only the case when the Bagel Nosh ruled Shadyside)

So brunch in Bucktown. Obviously I have a girlfriend.

So we're meeting two other couples there, and they're extremely cool people so I didn't mind meeting them. They're also late people and I'm dating Patty Punctual (not to be confused with Peppermint Patty, who is in fact gay.). So we're early and we get to Feast, the type of restaurant that makes its money off people in their late 20s-early 30s who feel the need to go out for brunch.

We check to see if anyone else had made a reservation (Apparently Easter Sunday is a busy day for Denver Omelettes and the like). They had not. We asked for a table for six, not an outlandish request by any means.

"All I have for five and up is the counter," the hostess said, pointing to the curvy counter next to us.

"Well, we kind of want to sit together," the girlfriend said. "I don't think we want the counter."

The hostess was not impressed by a seemingly reasonable request.

"The counter is just like a table," she said, seemingly unaware of our lifelong counter experience. "It's just...higher."

One word describes that answer: Sassy. (Anyone else remember that hilarious Phil Hartman sketch on SNL?)

Sullen and downcast (OK, I was laughing but she was pissed), we met two members of our party outside and discussed future plans. I suggested an Eight Ball and cheese fries but everyone else was thinking Belgian waffle and gooseberries.

Eventually we settled on the bar across the street. Unsure if they had brunch, we decided to trust the sign that said, "Brunch: Open."

Eventually most of settled on the "best croissant sandwich ever" from the worst "foreign brunch waitress with underwear sticking out of her pants ever" and some surprisingly good orange juice (without the ice that was strangely offered, and accepted by one of us).

Afterward, we headed over to one couple's apartment to meet a lovable labrad-oodle. Three drove over in a Porsche, the other three, myself included, went a pied. Strangely we got there at the same time.

After the visit, I saw a guy around my age coming back to his brand-new condo on a skateboard, while carrying a Subway bag. Why it was necessary to shred over to the Eat Fresh capital of Chicago, I have no idea.

A block later, this ridiculousness was displaced by a guy cruising down the street in a 19th century bicycle with a 6-feet high wheels.

We also stopped in a charming neighborhood grocery store with seven different kinds of kale and a section title "Soy you're looking to spend money..."

Thankfully it was Easter and I didn't have to spend time in any boutiques or high-end baby stores that have displaced the mom-and-pop abandoned drug dens and failed bodegas that populated this area 20 years ago.

Also my favorite Jewish lesbian-owned, make-your-own-T-shirt for $30 store was also closed for the holiday.

Later on, I took the girlfriend to a tour of my neighborhood, Mid-North Clark St, where we hit edgy stores like Tower Records, Urban Outfitters and Graham Cracker Comics.

And I got my slice of pizza.

Purchases on the day:

Best croissant ever (Northside Tap): B+
I didn't like the bacon on the bottom of the sandwich, but the croissant itself was excellent and the eggs were also good.

Sunday Tribune: B+
Nothing jumped out on me. Read about the Arizona-Illinois game I missed while covering the Bulls game

New "Bright Eyes" CD (Tower): B+ (consistent grade I guess)
I listened to the first few songs of Conner Oberst's new disc at Tower and liked it enough to spend $10 on it. I'd describe him as an alt-rock John Mayer/Jack Johnson. Very poetic, sometimes maudlin. Interesting sound. Only listened to it twice though.

Slice of pizza (Luigi's): A+
Never disappoints when it's piping hot. My favorite, non-deep dish pizza in the city. Bar none.

Morty Seinfield, creator of the beltless trenchcoat, dead at 82

2005-03-24T16:33:00.000-06:00

Barney Martin, the actor who played Jerry Seinfeld's dad, Morty , Thursday from cancer. Here are some of his greatest hits. Feel free to play maudlin music in the background.

JACK: No? Listen Morty you wanna settle up for last night? (Morty nods) All right. I owe you 19.45$ (he gets his checks book and a pen from his pocket).

MORTY: What did you have? You had the minute steak?

JACK: Yeah.

MORTY: Did you have a coke or what?

JACK: I did NOT have a coke.

MORTY: Somebody had a coke.

HELEN: Oh I had a coke.

DORIS: And I had the scampi.

JACK: So that's 17.10$ and the tax and the tip.

MORTY: All right. Make it 20 bucks.

JACK: It's: 19.45$, Morty. (he gives him the check)

MORTY: 19.45$ ?

.... MORTY: Jack can afford to give away a pen with all his money. Believe me. He gives me a check for 19.45. He didn't have a Coke. Ho, ho, ho!

****

MORTY: Jerry have you ever seen any of those impressionist paintings?

JERRY: Oh sure like Monet.

MORTY: Don't you think he had to be uh near sighted? I mean know body would paint like that if they could see. It's all out of focus.

JERRY: Well he's from the impressionist school, you know like Monet, Manet, Tippi Tippi Dayday.

MORTY: I say the guy was painting without his glasses.

****

HELEN: Morty, what d'you have to open this box for? (waving at another box) There's already a box of cookies open.

MORTY: I wanted a Chip Ahoy.

HELEN: I don't like all these open boxes.

(Helen puts both boxes of cookies away in a cupboard.)

MORTY: Look, I got a few good years left. If I want a Chip Ahoy, I'm having it.

****
MORTY: (Jerry comes out of his room, having just woken up) Rise and shine, sleepy head! Ha ha!

JERRY: It's 5:30 in the morning!

HELEN: We let you sleep in.

JERRY: (handing his dad a gift) Well, as long as I'm up. Dad, I got you a birthday present. Here. Happy Birthday.

MORTY: Aw, Jerry. I should be buyin' you presents.

JERRY: What does that mean?

HELEN: Leave your father alone. It's his birthday.

MORTY: Oooh! Heh heh! It's a radar detector.

JERRY: Radar detector? I've never seen you go over twenty miles an hour. You're like the Grand Marshall of the Rose Bowl Parade. It's a Wizard organizer.

MORTY: This looks like too much money.

JERRY: Nah, I got it from a guy on the street. It was, like, fifty bucks.

MORTY: You think it's hot?

JERRY: Could be.

MORTY: Attaboy! Helen, Jerry got me a hot Wizard computer!

HELEN: I'm right here.

JERRY: And you can do everything with it. You can get e-mail, fax, there's a calculator.

MORTY: So, I can use it in the restaurant to figure out the tip?

JERRY: Yeah, I guess. But the really cool thing is the daily planner.

MORTY: Helen, we got into restaurants and figure out the tips.

HELEN: Jerry, you're getting your father too excited.
...MORTY: (eating lunch with Helen and Jerry) Another fine meal, and now for my Wizard tip calculator.

JERRY: Dad, it's got lots of other functions.

MORTY: Don't worry. I'll get to the other functions. (trying to open it) I can't get it open.

(Jerry easily opens it)

HELEN: Yay! Jerry got it open.

MORTY: The service was slow. And God forbid they should refill the water. How does 12.4% sound?

JERRY: (looking at the Wizard) Well, your tip is four dollars and thirty-six point six six six six cents.

MORTY: We'll round down.

HELEN: Jerry, it was so nice of you to come down here on your father's birthday. You've helped take his mind off the condo elections.

JERRY: Oh, right. You can't run for condo president because you were impeached at the other condo.

MORTY: I was never impeached! I resigned!

HELEN: Even so, the press would bury him!

JERRY: What press?

HELEN: The condo newsletter, the Boca Breeze.

MORTY: Pinko Commie rag.

Post-script: I'll never figure out how Jerry got a Wizard that had fax and e-mail capabilities in like, 1996. That was one hell of a tip calculator.

And now a final word from the late Barney Martin:

MORTY: Hey, I agree with him. Nobody likes a kid with a pony.

I would never drive a Dodge Stratus! But I do wear a striped shirt!

2005-03-23T13:12:00.000-06:00

Hilarious blog-like parody of every guy's nocturnal wardrobe choice; the striped dress shirt! It's edited by Elaine Benes.

http://www.thephatphree.com/features.asp?SectionID=11&StoryID=239&Layou

Coming soon: I can't hear you! I'm listening to my iPod!

Have you read my blog? It's awesome!

Who'd you take in the tournament? Fuck Bucknell!

Shin Bet goes online

2005-03-22T23:02:00.000-06:00

Garden Apartment job posting section (now international!):

http://news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/nm/20050322/wr_nm/security_israel_dc

P.S. Sorry, Johnny, Jews in tight T-shirts not invited...inside joke. Oh wait, all my jokes are inside jokes. I need some outside jokes.

I'll be back with some outside jokes...

Another blog funnier than mine

2005-03-15T22:34:00.000-06:00

http://nytimesweddings.blogspot.com/

Good stuff here, especially if you read the NY Times wedding section. And yes, I do. As Rick Marin said in his book Cad, I could say I read it because I'm a writer and I enjoy people's stories. While that is true in some sense, it's really just because I'm a dork.

It's always fun to see where people work, and occassionally, how they met. There's essentially three classes of people: Jews, WASPs and gays. All three types are alike in that they're essentially very wealthy, or at least mildly interesting. A sample Times couple looks like this:

Carly works as the curator for the American Jewish Spelunking Society in Manhattan. She graduated from Penn in 1999. Her mother Janice is a dean at NYU and her father Morris founded Reform Judaism. She is keeping her own name.

Brian is a trader for Solomon Brothers. He also graduated from Penn in 1999. His parents own Brooklyn.

Of course, when my hometown paper, the Steubenville Herald-Star, has a wedding announcement, which my friends and I peruse with great delight, it looks like this:

Mandy graduated from Steubenville High School in 1997. She works as a cafeteria supervisor for Aquinas Elementary.

Mike graduated from Steubenville Central Catholic in 1995. He is employed by the city.

And if you went to Northwestern and you're a jackass, it looks like this (Few, if any, prospective grooms could refer to their future wife as "ample-chested" and "snaggle-toothed," and get away with it. This guy's got a good one.):

http://weddings.theknot.com/pwp/view/co_main.aspx?coupleid=3240463784134000
(And just so you everyone knows, this isn't a sign. I just found the NY Times blog on a sportsjournalists Web site and thought it was hilarious. In a similar vein, happy birthday Jennifer. Are you doing anything for your birthday?)

In a completely different vein, last day for brackets.

Pool is open, c'mon in

2005-03-14T21:19:00.000-06:00

The pool is open on ...

http://www.tournamentpools.com/

See below post for info.

Good times.

OK, I'm too excited...

2005-03-13T15:17:00.000-06:00

Just set up the pool on tournamentpools.com.
The name of the pool is "Leon Williams and everyone else," paying homage to Ohio's freshman MVP, Leon. In pool pick 'em parlance, I'm Leon, and everyone else is, well, everyone else.

The pool id is: 15643
password: bobcats

It costs a buck to enter, so pool entry will be $6 or $11, depending on how many people enter.

Good luck.

p.s. You'll need it.

Don't get me started

2005-03-13T14:55:00.000-06:00

I don't think I can go into my unfettered joy right now.

I don't think I can talk about the hundreds of hours I spent covering the Ohio University basketball team in college. The road trips across the state. The disastrous visit to Wisconsin and a truly miserable loss to Duquesne my senior year (where I wrote the game story drunk at 2 a.m.). I can't talk about the semi-final loss to Miami my senior year, where again I wrote the game story still drunk the next morning. (Obviously you have learned my OU experience can boiled down to two things: The basketball team was disappointing and I drank a lot.)

Yesterday's game was ... I don't even have the words. Like most people that don't follow name-brand, high-pocket teams like the Patriots, Yankees or Duke, I carry the weight on my shoulders of a long-suffering fan.

When you follow a "mid-major," this Jan Brady syndrome is more pronounced. We're teased by upset wins and often left watching our teams get close enough to glory (or in this case, a first-round NCAA tournament game), only to be disappointed, time and time again.

Yesterday was a day that didn't fit to form. It was, to be gross, orgiastic. Only this case, my release was lifting up Bressler. Well, as much as one can hoist the man we call Big Cat.

And remember, I picked this first last week (see entry below). The lesson is, as usual: I'm always right.

Now onto the pool sheets. I've only heard from Ben and Meredith, not counting all my friends who have given the unofficial go-aheads. Obviously people will be in this pool that are not affiliated with this site; though I can't comprehend why you don't read this site every day. (Well, OK, I can list them: You actually do work at work; You don't care about my litany of inside jokes; You think I'm an idiot/sexist/misogynstic; I never update....)

But J-Rod, other people do read this site besides you, me and Johnny. (Jodi knows what I'm talking about. SHOUT-OUT ALERT!)

So let me know. The tournament pool thingy will be open later tonight. So check this site around 9ish...

Final countdown

2005-03-10T14:00:00.000-06:00

"Question, when is selection sunday for march madness? And what does selection sunday mean?"
- Debra Kanter

Well Debra, it's this Sunday and it means the NCAA brackets are out and about. I'll be celebrating Ohio University's sure bid into the Sweet 65 at a fancy-shmancy restaurant downtown, meeting parents and competing in a steak-eating contest with Someone Special's limber, pseudo-vegetarian sister.

But that leads into the point of this post: If you're interested in doing a pool through this site, please e-mail me at oujong@yahoo.com or post a message on this board. Just trying to get a count on who wants to do it. And don't worry J-Rod, I won't give you any "passive-aggressive" negativity if you bomb the pool. I'll straight out make fun of people. (See above quote).

Hang it Up, Little Bruh!

2005-03-06T20:41:00.000-06:00

There were a lot of funny things about my trip to old Notre Dame this past Saturday. When we got to the Joyce Center, Johnny and I were confused that no one was manning the main parking lot. Signs said it was student parking (and we were unaware it was ND's Spring Break), so, living in Chicago, where you get ticketed for thinking about parking illegally, we asked a parking guy where to park. His bemused reply: Well, there's a lot right here, he said, pointing to the 500 empty spaces to his right.

Free parking at a D-I arena. Unheard of. Maybe if they charged $2 a car, they could put a freaking scoreboard in the arena and join the rest of the 20th century.

The guy in the well-coiffed mullet and tight Under Armour-type shirt. He was funny too.

Johnny jumping up and down like a little girl. Always funny.

(And his neverending supply of school spirit for a college he didn't attend was infectious in our Pitt refugee camp in the top bleachers of the Joyce. Several times during the end of the game, Pitt players motioned up to us for thanks of support, as mentioned below)

http://www.postgazette.com/pg/05065/467086.stm

But nothing cracked us up more than one of the goofy time-out games. Staffers rolled out coat racks in the first half and hung leather jackets on them. Kids were then instructed to attach mini-backboards to each jacket and shoot as many baskets as they could with mini-Nerf balls. This wasn't easy. As you can imagine, jackets don't exactly have the requisite composure to handle jump shots. The poor kids were booed mercilessly by a very friendly crowd.

Now I thought, as did most people I imagine, that the ND marketing people cooked this bad idea up. But no. At halftime, there were posters available advertising this product.

This is what was written on the poster:

(on top)

Hang it up, little bruh! The jacket, but never your game...

(down below a picture of three young boys playing with the jacket in their bedroom, one of which doing push-ups)

Your jump shot must be money or drop down & give the boyz 20.

According to this propaganda poster, Jump Shot Nation is Coming Real Soon! I can't wait. Just a few things...

I gather, by the verbiage, this company is targeting urban youth. And we all now, what starts in the streets ends up in the suburbs. So it's a good marketing plan. Unfortunately for them, I just don't see the "boyz" wearing a leather coat with a basketball hoop in the back.

http://www.jumpshotgear.com/images/Jacket/FUNctional_jacket.htm

*****
This is what passes for news these days at the alma mater...

http://www.thepost.ohiou.edu/show_news.php?article=E4&date=030405

...as opposed to the hard news we ran in my days...

http://www.thepost.ohiou.edu/archives3/feb00/020300/sport07.html

*****
I'm no copy editor, but I don't think this picture is getting in too many papers. Lefty's looking a little, well, pained here ...

http://sports.yahoo.com/golf/pga/photo?slug=fljc11203062336.doral_fljc112&prov=ap

Dikembe's crib at your command

2005-03-02T22:57:00.000-06:00

I write a lot of interesting stories during my 9:45 to 4:15. Today alone, I did a half-hour interview about a really neat pen (Seriously, I can't stop talking about it. I'm like Jack Klompus.). But sometimes, a boring story - like say, one about online video commercials - can yield hilarious research.

Click on this link and add in this zip code: 77002. At the next page, go to the middle left and click on "play" for a tour of Dikembe Mutombo's "crib." If you like your basketball players tall, African and sounding like the Cookie Monster, this is the link for you.

http://216.173.232.173/hc/?team=3

****
JDater of the day
I can vouch that this girl likes to run, as she states from the get-go (How novel: a girl in Chicago likes to run!). She lived with Johnny and three other guys one summer in Evanston. She would get home from work around 4 and go for a long jog in the afternoon heat. One day she returned home from a run and found our friend, we'll call him Mike, "enjoying" Girls Gone Wild in the living room. That story had no point. I just like to bring it up.

http://www.jdate.com/default.asp?p=7070&MemberID=40636627

Friendster-er of the day
There's a reason some people are single.

http://www.friendster.com/user.php?uid=899041

*****
This is Ben's ex-girlfriend's sister. Surprisingly when he asked her to take me to a Playboy party in Chicago, she said, no.

http://www.playboy.com/on-campus/pictorial/emilyhamner/

March Madness

2005-03-01T21:16:00.000-06:00

In an effort to befriend our office mates at 900 last year, I ran the NCAA pool for my company and PR kingpins Hill & Knowlton. Since we're moving out - and most people thought I fixed it anyway since I had complete control of the picks and won second place - I'm taking the pool and bringing to the masses, meaning you, my 10-12 readers (Welcome super-couple Jodie and Adam and oh yeah, garden apartment's official lady-friend Jennifer).

The pool, possibly called Magic Mark's Sweet 64 Tournament Bonanza (named after the real garden apartment's landlord, Magic Mark, and not Joe Hisdorf's dad, also nicknamed Magic Mark by me), is going to be on this site:

http://www.tournamentpools.com/

and I'm thinking either $5 or $10 a pop. Updates will appear in this space and the winner will not only get the lion's share of the kitty (to be donated to charity, of course) but also a guest editorship for a day.

Details forthcoming when the brackets actually come out on Sunday, March 13. The picks will be locked on the morning of the 17th.

******

I know the defense has a good case against that striking white woman, Michael Jackson, and I believe it. But if watching Internet porn while watching mastubating with young boys is wrong, well then, Rob doesn't want to be right.

http://news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/afp/20050228/wl_afp/usjackson_050228232837

I'm just kidding. Rob doesn't know any young boys. Or older girls, for that matter.

Here's the NYTimes story on the guy impersonating "Mr. Wacko Jacko."

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/03/01/arts/television/01jack.html?ex=1267419600&en=8638c19bca8d6cb6&ei=5090&partner=rssuserland

I'll save you the link, this is the funniest paragraph (How do I know it's the funniest? I stole it off defamer.com)

"After a decade of crotch grabbing and nonsensical phrases like "shamone," Mr. Moss says he is eager to branch out into film and television roles that do not call for a Jackson lookalike. "I would love to get away from the Michael Jackson thing," he said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "I'm an actor. I have so much more to offer." "

My question: How did the writer know how to spell "shamone?"

******

I think I've written before about our ex-"intern" Eric, who mistakenly signed me up for a spam mail service. Anyway, if I haven't, it was, and is, extremely annoying. Read what happened when someone actually answered a spam message, and then wrote a book about it:

http://www.tuesdayswithmantu.com/index2.html

*******
And finally, just because I'm a dick, a new feature on garden apartment, making fun of people's friendster and jdate profiles (and myspace and facebook if you send me the links). Enjoy my mean-spiritedness.

Friends don't let friends write Internet profiles, especially when you're both ex-retail majors at U of A and don't the know difference between "bound" and "abound." I know, I'm a slave to grammar, but since I know both of these people it's funnier to me, and definitely Johnny.

http://www.friendster.com/user.php?uid=2521131

http://www.jdate.com/default.asp?p=7070&MemberID=43580213

Saucy stuff

2005-02-22T21:11:00.000-06:00

For those who believe I don't work, and trust me, most of the times I don't, here's what I did while most of you were sleeping this past President's Day.

http://mlb.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/mlb/news/mlb_leftfield.jsp?ymd=20050221&content_id=947303&vkey=leftfield&fext=.jsp

Yin and Yang, or Hunter and the Miz

2005-02-21T21:39:00.000-06:00

A great writer died Sunday, as most of you are aware. Hunter Thompson shot himself in the head in his Colorado estate. Thompson was an idol of many writers and counter-culture types, a truly original voice. Most know him from his seminal novel, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. The movie furthered his popularity among our generation, when that guy from 21 Jump Street played him on screen. He also played a large role in making Rolling Stone more than a music magazine.

Obit:
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/news/story?id=1996230

Thompson also had a major face on ESPN.com's Page 2 section, writing quirky stream of consciousness pieces on sports and politics. His online work had an odd syntax that included unnecessary Capital letters and run-on sentences. But it worked. He will be missed. And for sure, in the next week, he will be eulogized by every writer, druggie and blogger, ad infinitum.

However, when the Miz mangles the English language on HIS Web site, well, it's just plain ugly. The fact that this guy went to Miami (Ohio) makes me all the more proud I went to OU.

http://www.mikethemiz.com/

One of my favorite spelling faux pas' on there is when he spells sake, "socci." Nice. No wonder he makes his living wrestling and hanging on to things above water.

NBA All-Star halftime: WTF?

2005-02-20T21:06:00.000-06:00

Now let me get this straight, the NBA, that's the National Basketball Association, which is overwhelmingly urban (ah, what the hell, really black), just had two country stars perform at halftime?

Obviously the repercussions from the Timberlake-Janet Nipplepalozza are still cursing televised sporting concert-type events. Any rapper is pretty much suspect thanks to a weasly, falsetto pop singer and an over-the-hill pop singer. No Ludacris, no Trick Daddy, just Leann Rimes and Big & Rich.

What're the numbers on NBA/Leann Rimes fans? Two, three? Not to mention, Big and Rich were singing "Save a horse, ride a cowboy." I wonder what that's about.

Then again, the NFL brought in aged Paul McCartney to do the Super Bowl. Not only was it excruciating (Seriously Paul, Jude called. Stop it.) but in reality, it was the height of hypocrisy, as he was arrested for pot "smuggling" in Japan back in his cooler days. A week or so before, the No Fun League bounced Los Lonely Boys from the pre-game calendar because their drummer was busted for pot.

(Hah! As I'm writing this, Charles Barkley is making the exact same point! He hates these crackers. As he said, this ain't Nascar.)

But hey, at least B&R had a black, rapping cowboy. So the NBA's got the brotha's covered. I mean, there's probably a dozen rappers in attendance!

I wonder who played at the Pro Bowl? If anyone, anyone, watched, let me know...

postscript:
It's halftime and Magic's talking...Damn, that sucked. No Magic-isms. A Magicism, as Rob would tell you, is something like, "Now LeBron James is trying to be like Michael Jordan out here. That being Michael Jordan is the best player ever and LeBron is trying to be like him."

FredEx

2005-02-17T13:59:00.001-06:00

Check out this Web site from well-appointed Eagles wideout Freddie "FredEx" Mitchell.

One of my co-workers just got some free schwag from them, including a dope FredEx hat. Get them now before he's sued for copyright infringement.

http://www.freddiemitchell.com/index.asp?PageAction=VIEWCATS&Category=1

The Gray Lady explodes!

2005-02-17T11:42:00.000-06:00

I know I can't blame my absence from blogging on a simple cold, but what the hell, it's not like I have any editors (as evidenced by a multitude of typos). LIke the rest of the city, the changing temperatures, et al, have rendered me groggy and stricken with some mixture of a cold and my overwhelming allergies.

I was perusing the NY Times, during my lunch break of course, and I wanted to highlight some seemingly meaningless articles that highlight the hypocritical administration that rules us, oops I mean compassionately governs us.

Now, the first two deal with the weird case of the fake reporter who's been covering the Bush administration for some obscure GOP Web site. (An aside, it's easy to call it a "conservative" Web site, but there's really nothing "conservative" about this type of operation. It's a slap in the face to journalists everywhere, and in reality, to the public's trust in the media to bring them the new.)

With so much evidence of GOP-sponsored propaganda, heads should roll in the White House, perhaps starting with Scott McClellan. But they probably won't.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/02/17/opinion/17dowd.html?hp

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/02/20/arts/20rich.html?pagewanted=2&8hpib

This next link is an important one. It deals with the current administration's fancy with abstinance sex education, an oxy-moron if there ever was one.

Whoever championed this idea is either mentally unbalanced or never spent anytime in public or middle-class to poor Catholic schools. Or they never, ever had a chance to get laid in high school.

To put this into perspective, my co-worker Matt coaches a girls Catholic high school basketball team. His best player, a senior, has a 1-year-old son. Last weekend she had a birthday party for him at a bar her grandmother owns, going from 6 p.m. to whenever, complete with a DJ and underage drinking. Good thinking.

I wonder what kind of sex ed they teach?

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/02/16/opinion/16kristof.html?incamp=article_popular_2

Who is Mike Jones?

2005-02-07T23:45:00.000-06:00

I spend a lot of time in my car.

Fortunately it's a silver Civic coupe with no CD player, so it's like the Civic's driving me.

I listen to the radio often times - as balancing my $20 CD player on my lap gets tiresome

and who can afford pricey batteries? - as I commute to the Northwest suburbs

for high school basketball games in Chicago's always stress free traffic

(Really, I should be paying the newspaper).

Because I've been doing this type of work since graduating college,

I could provide an oral history of radio-friendly rap and alt rock.

One of my new favorites is Mike Jones. I've never heard the beginning of his popular song,
"Still Trippin" (or "Still Tipping" depending on what site you're looking at), but I knew that he was at least part of the "crew" singing this. How did I glean this info? Here's some sample lyrics...

Who is Mike Jones coming

Slab shining with the grill and woman

Slab shining with the grill and woman

I'm Mike Jones (Who) Mike Jones the one and only you can't clone me

Got a lot a haters and a lot of homies some friends and some phony

Back then hoes didn't want me Now I'm hot hoes all on me

Back then hoes didn't want me Now I'm hot hoes all on me

Back then hoes didn't want me Now I'm hot hoes all on me

(I Said!) Back then hoes didn't want me Now I'm hot hoes all on me

http://www.ohhla.com/anonymous/swisha/the_day/s_tippin.hse.txt

Man, if the NFL had heard of him before the Super Bowl, he'd have blown Paul McCartney off the stage.

This is another "hot" song that would go well on your iPod, if you have one. I'm not sure I get this message though...

She put that sugar on my tongue

Shes gonna

Gimme gimme some

She put it right there on my tongue (Skeet Skeet)

Right there on my tongue (She turns me on, like no other)

http://www.ohhla.com/anonymous/trickdad/matrimon/sugar.tdd.txt

(For those unfamiliar with the above term "Skeet skeet," I'll share a funny story. An old intern of ours, you may remember her from the Xmas holiday fiasco of '03, was hanging with her cousin and some dudes. Now the girl is from a rather exclusive area in Maryland (Pat Sajak was a neighbor) but her cousin and her friends were a tad more street-smart. Now the girl was trying to sound a little more street and, using her knowledge of mainstream rap, said she was excited to go to the club and get her "skeet" on. Immediately her cousin's friends were excited and I believe started high-fiving each other.
Her cousin called her over and asked, "Are you serious?"
"Yeah," she said, unmoved.
"Do you know what that means?"
"Yeah, get my dance on."
IN actuality, the term "skeet skeet" stems from skeet shooting. Use your imagination to decipher the meaning.
That's been your Hip Hop lesson of the day)

Now if you're looking for heavy metaphors in your music, and you can't stand any of REM's new stuff

(join the club), you should be listening to 50 Cent. It took me five chat rooms and a 20-minute IM conversation

with Trick Daddy to dissect these lyrics...



I'll take you to the candy shop

I'll let you lick the lollipop

Go ahead girl, don't you stop

Keep going til you hit the spot, whoaa

http://www.ohhla.com/anonymous/50_cent/rm_bside/candyshp.50c.txt

And this song, "I smell pussy," has NOTHING to do with vaginas (though his little-known underground hit, Traitor Bitches Must Die, is all about spooning):

Y'all niggas is pussy!!!!!

I'm falling out nigga now watch me (watch me)

Ain't nothing you can do to stop me (stop me)

Y'all niggas get so emotional (emotional)

You remind me of my bitch...HaHa

http://www.ohhla.com/anonymous/50_cent/future/i_smell.50c.txt

One more time

2005-02-07T13:28:00.000-06:00

Not to harp on this Johnny-should-be-jealous-of-his-old-roommate-Darren theme, but this one should send him scurrying for the sharp knives (the ones he uses to prepare dishes from his Kosher Vegetarian cookbook). And for those disinclined to read sports business articles, it's a pretty funny, well-written story.

http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page3/story?page=rovell/050205

Jealousy, thy name is Johnny

2005-02-06T23:17:00.000-06:00

Out of all of my fellow Ohio University graduates, I can't say I'm jealous of anyone. My current salary is probably less than 75 pct of them, at least, but no one is doing anything that makes me envious. I life in a big city, have good friends and a pretty good life.

Of course, had I gotten in to Northwestern, I'm sure I would be singing a different tune. When Johnny was working at a floundering hedge fund (which wasn't his fault, though I'm sure they would've appreciated more than 15 minutes of solid work from him every day), his old college roommate - an ESPN reporter who focuses on sports business and actually just wrote a book on Gatorade, of all things - was on CNBC. His co-workers mocked him immediately, "Well, your roommate's on CNBC and you're working at a struggling hedge fund."

Stuck in a job he didn't love, he was constantly subjected to Darren's (relative) success.

If you thought he was jealous before, check out this link:

http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page3/story?page=rovell/050206
...
I watched the Super Bowl at my friend Seth's apartment. I had a seat on the couch, wingies, free beer. I thought I had it pretty good. Then I talked to my younger brother who watched it in a VIP room at a strip club in Vegas. Just him, his buddies, strippers and the Super Bowl. Oh and lap dances were $1 at halftime. And this is a club we visited last summer, where strippers are known to make out with customers.

Condoms for sale

2005-02-02T21:37:00.000-06:00

No matter how old you are, there's nothing more uncomfortable than buying condoms by yourself in the daylight...sober.

Obviously I know there's nothing to be embarassed about, especially when you're at the age when your friends are married, and even having children on purpose. But there's always that nagging feeling in your head, that hint of shame that you're doing something, well, naughty. As a generally private person, I also don't like my bizness on blast.

For your pleasure, my top 5 condom buying stories:

5a. After work this past year, I needed to get some rubbers (or as I like to call them, rubs). So I went to the Walgreen's near my office. I picked up a Snicker's Marathon bar and a dozen ribbed.

When I got to the counter, the checkout girl, a cute black girl probably a few years younger than me, immediately smirked and looked right at me. It surprised me, because usually I think it's all in my head. I blushed but still laughed, probably a bit too loud. "Do you want a bag?" she said, still giggling.
"Sure," I said.
"Now you have a fun night," she replied.
"I will if you use these with me," I said.
"Can my friend come?" she said.
"You know she will," I retorted confidently.

I know this sounds like a fantasy, but this had never happened to me before...and it didn't happen this time either. Those last three lines are bullshit. After she told me to have a good one, I said I would and left.

5. The first time I went to buy some was at a Kroger's latenight during my senior year at high school. I scrambled from my girlfriend's house, nervous because it would be my first time. I grabbed a box but then started scanning the store. I thought I recognized a check-out girl and some people in line, so I looked around and pocketed them, scampering out of the store like a scared little girl.

4. After a year-plus of unforced celibacy (just the intercourse kind cuz you know I still got mines), I had a need for condoms at the end of my senior year. And trust me, I think I REALLY needed them. I had grabbed a couple from my roommate (As a side note, he bought them a year before when we went to Cancun, even though he had never had sex before. When we got to Mexico, our friend Matt dug his hands into the box and declared, "I'm going to need these!" Needless to say, he didn't, nor did the rest of us.). These things were so thick I couldn't feel a thing. I think I went for 2 hours the first time. So after a leisurely lunch at the Chinese buffet, I walked to the CVS across the street from my apartment (located conveniently above the buffet) with my roommate Seth and my friend Joe. We had been talking about this predicament so we were a bit giggly when we walked into the store. Not embarassed, we started asking loudly where the doubly thins were, as we felt I needed the double-thin brand. They worked too, as I'm still alive today.

3. Before this sexual escapade, I hadn't "banged" since Spring Quarter my junior year (Man, I hope my mom's not reading this). I was visiting Chicago to go to my then-girlfriend's sorority formal (she went to Wisconsin). She picked me up from Johnny's place in Evanston and immediately asked me if I "remembered to bring something very important." She wanted to stop before we got downtown. Of course I didn't.

2. New Year's 2003. I'm in Phoenix for the Fiesta Bowl and to have the general good time I couldn't have in Yuma. Initially I was supposed to go out with a girl I had been dating, but she nixed our plans a day before. I think she was a little miffed when I put the kibosh on any relationship talk a week or so before and realized she should hang out with her friends instead. Karma fucked her in the end, as she got sick and didn't go anywhere.

I, on the other hand, still had plans with a friend from college whom I had hooked up with previously. We didn't get out til 11:30 because she was working as a waitress. We met another friend out at a bar in Scottsdale and a few shots later, we were making out at midnight. Things got a bit more serious and we left. I wanted to get a cab and leave my car. She, for some reason, talked me out of it. We got into the G Ride (or Honda Civic, depending on where you're from) and she immediately jumps half on my lap. Needless to say, this isn't safe.

But neither is raw dogging, so I stopped at a BP near her place. Piss drunk, I walk BEHIND the counter and start checking him out. The clerk was not amused. I told him my intentions, so I asked what kind I wanted. I told him just to lay them out in a condom lineup and I'll pick, which I did.

1a. Same girl in Chicago. It's a surprise encounter and once again, I'm not prepared. It's about 10 degrees outside and it's 3 a.m. So I venture to the White Hen across the street wearing pajama pants, a hoodie and a jacket. I grab a 3-pack and am looking around after I hand it to the clerk. I look back at him and he's smiling with his fist extended to give me some pound. "This is some necessary shit," he said.

1. We're in Yuma and my roommate is in his room with a young stripper. Needless to say, he needs protection. I mean, this is a jailbreak blitz and he's Dan Marino encased in stone. He needs double tight end, max protection.

So he wakes me up late in the night and makes me walk next to the Circle K next door. He buys rubs and I get some Lemonheads. The look on the clerk's face as two dudes are buying candy and condoms at 2 a.m. was priceless.

The next time I needed some, he was gaily instructing me to get the Rough Riders, because that's what he liked.

That damn liberal media

2005-02-01T16:48:00.000-06:00

U.S. Soldier held hostage in Iraq!

http://apnews.myway.com/article/20050201/D87VU1582.html

No wait, that's GI Joe...

http://apnews.myway.com/article/20050201/D87VURAO0.html

Back, but not better

2005-01-31T23:38:00.000-06:00

So I'm TRYING to write my first blog in a week and Rob is busy doing a medley of cheesy songs he's memorized since college - Superman by Five for Fighting, Peter Himmelman, etc and so on - so forgive me if it's not my best effort.

So...how ya been? I didn't want to write after the events of two Sundays past. I guess my blog's support is bad luck. Thus far I've pushed Kerry and the Steelers and they've provided two huge letdowns. Watch out jasminrosemberg.com, Seinfeld re-runs and Rob's singing career...

Otherwise, I've been busy working, think Kramer taking the morning train times 10. Last week I went to three high school basketball games, one indoor soccer practice and one high school fencing match.

As a sportswriter I shouldn't make fun of my subjects, but let's just say ONE of those stories was somewhat, how should I put this, hilarious? Unintentionally funny (to borrow Sportsguy's phrase)? Too goofy for words?

Let's just say if your high school has a problem with bullying and disaffected youth, start a fencing team. These kids seem to really enjoy jabbing each other with swords, it probably helps work out a lot of built-up aggression.

On Friday, after a high school basketball game, I skipped the post-game Snowball and ended up at Grand Central, aka Rockit North. It's a real festival of elbows and shoulders. Highly recommended if you like waiting in line. But since every bar has a line right now, as the snow has ceased for the moment, I guess it's worth it. Lots of trim (if you're a guy) and thousands of dudes in striped dress shirts and $170 jeans. (On that vein, can you imagine your reaction in high school, provided you're a guy over 23, if someone would've told you, you'd be wearing jeans that expensive. You'd have thunk you had a sex change.)

Saturday after waiting in line for 20 minutes at Bella, I went to another line at Elm Street Liquors. I've never been to Bella but I find the line situation particularly gruesome, as you're forced to wait next to a window where you can actually see everyone drinking and yukking it up. I specifically recommend this if you're alone and meeting someone.

Well, I'm gassed. Later.

Yinz getting ready and that?

2005-01-21T11:42:00.000-06:00

I can't express how excited I am the New York Times has daily Steelers updates. I wish they would take us on as a beat full-time, though I can't imagine the average NY Times reader is even aware Pittsburgh is still a functioning city.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/01/21/sports/football/21steelers.html?adxnnl=1&oref=login&adxnnlx=1106324120-eNrMUeuCuQS96MthLuwceA

Needless to say, this story has me about ready to burst in anticipation for Sunday's game.

The next two nights I'll be dreaming of defensive linemen dropping back into coverage and Clark Haggans kamikazing into Tom Brady, Joey Porter kicking air all night long.

I'll be dreaming of 70,000 screaming, towel-waving yahoos polluting the air with their foul-mouthed cheers and husky implorings. Idiots in foam bus hats and leather Penguins coats and Starter jackets as far as the eye can see. And it will be beautiful.

I'm dreaming of shuffle passes out of the gun and dive left and stretch right and Jerome Bettis shimmying like Chubby Checkers. I'm dreaming of Myron Cope butchering the English language and the Jaw strutting the sidelines; no hat, fabulous mustache, Pittsburgh true and true.

........

I have frequented porn stores and strip clubs. I've had strippers in my place of residence and once "won" a chance to put a double-sided in my mouth and use it on two women. I've received naked hugs at a strip club from a teen stripper I knew. But I've never felt as sleazy as I did last night during the last few minutes of the OC. As Mischa Barton shared a "moment" with the hot alt-rock bi-sexual bartender, the guy on the ellipitical machine beside me looked at me and flashed a grin. I grinned too, it wasn't an accident I spent an hour and a half doing cardio last night, for I wanted to see some lesbo action. Then of course, I saw myself from the outside in, an overweight, 26-year-old man scheming to check out a faux high school makeout sesh. Needless to say, I've seen better days. Of course I've also seen and done things far worse, so it's all relative.

........

Three nights ago, thanks to my bumbling, our heat went out again at midnight. Our landlord couldn't be woken up, so Rob and I headed to Walgreen's to buy space heaters. (This is after convincing him calling and waiting out a 24-hr repairman was not the best idea) Once there we picked up some cheap models, again I had to convince Rob not to spend $70 on one. He then proceeded to ask the checkout girl numerous questions about our purchase. She zinged us good, noting "my heat works." Rob then went on to buy a winter hat with a script Chicago on the front, the kind favored by the homeless, asking said checkout girl, "Do you have any ski masks, because I really need to get some sleep."

Sleep wasn't quite upon us yet, as we blew our fuse box twice before settling into a restless slumber.

Now THIS is entertainment

2005-01-19T13:45:00.000-06:00

An actual preview, verbatim, for Sony's Man of the House, set for a Feb. 25 release:

"...a by-the-book Texas Ranger, Roland Sharp (Tommy Lee Jones) tracks down a key informant with the help of a streetwise preacher Percy Stevens (Cedric the Entertainer). But when the informant is eliminated, the hard-headed Sharp is assigned to protect the only witnesses to the crime - a group of University of Texas cheerleaders - by going undercover and moving in with the five uncontrollable college coeds."

Now read that again.

First of all, before anyone gets too excited, it's PG-13, so the uncontrollable coeds will be controlled a great deal. I imagine bra and panties are all that will be showed.

Secondly, Tommy Lee Jones living with 5 hot cheerleaders...who greenlights this shit? Why not Matthew McConnaughey? I'm guessing the outtakes of that one would push it to NC-17 at least. And forget him anyway, why not Angelina Jolie or Lil Kim? The sapphic fantasies...

The picture in this preview book we got is classic. TLJ is in the middle of said cheerleaders wearing an orange cowboy cheer-man outfit. And guess what? He's scowling! I bet he's not happy about this assignment but ends up with five new friends who loves like daughters.

I can't wait til this comes on cable. What would the one-sentence description be? "Grouchy Texas Ranger moves in with cheerleaders and touches them."

The all-time best cable description was for Teen Wolf: "Kid with long hair and fingernails plays basketball."

The Z Man's return

2005-01-19T13:15:00.000-06:00

In a follow-up to yesterday's popular Steelers/Dr. Z blog - at least one person e-mailed me to say they liked it which is rousingly successful in my book, or blog - here's Dr. Z's Championship predictions. While I don't agree with his end result, I like where he's coming from. I'm interested to see if the Steelers follow through this with this train of thought. You never can tell with Bill Cowher, the Steeler's mustachoed coach, who might just run a Wing T, just to do it.

http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/news;_ylc=X3oDMTBpcmc2NWVyBF9TAzI1NjY0ODI1BHNlYwNvZQ--?slug=cnnsi-championshipgam&prov=cnnsi&type=lgns

OVERHEARD
My company rents office space from a PR firm in the city. An executive, or whatever they're called here, has an office by us and constantly leaves her door open so we can hear all of her conference calls, meetings and interviews. Currently some 2003 Purdue grad is in there talking about how she prides herself on working hard, and how she wants to do something she believes in. So of course public relations is the answer. What would the world be like without public relations? I shudder at the thought. Shudder.

MOVIE REVIEW
Saw "Coach Carter" this weekend. It's a must-see...if you just came to this country and have no idea how the sports movie paradigm goes. Basically a coach with a plan, an unpopular one at that, comes into the lives of hardscrabble youth (or in some cases, totally inept) and changes their lives for the better through sport. Oh there are some rough times. His methods are questioned, his practices invariably include more conditioning than actual practicing (it's a good message, hard work equates to success) and (what do you know!) the team finds success, on and off the playing field.

Sometimes, as with Ladybugs, the writers throw in a monkey wrench, like cross-dressing.

This story is based on a true story of the 1999 Richmond (Calif.) High School team, but obviously takes on more liberties than a WNBA groupie. Overall it wasn't as bad as I thought, it had some good basketball scenes (this fictional team scored approximately 75 percent of its points on backdoor alley-oops) and the wincing usual "do you guys actually know how high school sports work?" moments (like when the 15-3 team needs to squeak into the playoffs).

There was the possibilty for some nudity but none actually occurred, at least in the studio's cut. Maybe the director's cut will give us a little more skin. We can only hope.

Tuesday Morning, er, Late Afternoon, Nickelback

2005-01-18T11:45:00.000-06:00

With the penultimate Sunday football day upon us, so let us pray (to G-d, Jesus, the elephant guy or as Flanders referred to him on The Simpsons this week, Hawkman). Not for world peace or for the tsunami victims, but for the Pittsburgh Steelers, who need to make this Super Bowl.

Let's face it. This blog is going nowhere, I make roughly the same salary as one of the older, less agile monkeys at the zoo across the street from my hovel of an apartment. Girls like me sporadically and I'm getting fatter and balder by the day. After covering sports since I was 19, I don't really even like that many teams anymore. OU's teams blow and the Buccos suck. I need this win.

Boston fans, and Jared Puffer, have become spoiled by their recent string of wins. Pittsburghers haven't seen a winning baseball season since 1992, the year I became a man (not from sex, that came five years later) and haven't had a Super Bowl title since the Steelers' glory days. The Penguins are a non-factor and the city itself is teetering on bankruptcy. Really the Steelers are all we got. So pray to your deity, or winged super-hero, for a win this week against the Pats and one two weeks hence against either the Falcons or Iggles.

Not that they really need your prayers, as the Steelers are awesome.

This past Sunday with my usual viewing partner out of town, I went to Joe's on Weed St with my buddy in from home and his girlfriend. I picked Joe's instead of Durkin's because it's bigger and closer to the highway, as I needed to leave immediately after the game to cover a high school basketball game.

Joe's is supposed to be the Mecca for Steelers fans in this city but it's more like Riyadh. Can't stand here, don't stand there. The entire back section of the bar, twice the size of the front is reserved for Illinois fans. While they had the Steelers game on, all of the sound was for the Illini's epic matchup against Northwestern.

In the front there was a polka band, which sounds funny and quaint, but they were quite annoying, playing the Steelers polka for far too long after scores. When the Steelers were trailing late, the tuba guy kept giving speechers on the mike as if our cheers were going to magically float through the projection screen to Heinz Field, where it was plenty loud I'm sure. In my mind if you have to tell fans to wave their terrible towels, it's too late.

The only highlight was meeting a guy who was wearing a shirt that read, "Chew tobacco, chew tobacco, spit, spit, spit. If you're not a Steelers fan, you ain't shit." He actually offered to trade it to me if the Steelers won, but I couldn't do it. Not because it's tasteless and completely trashy, but because I loved it too much to see him part with it.

Onto other football...stuff. Johnny and I are unofficial President and VP of the Dr. Z fan club. He's the senior football writer for SI, and in my mind, the foremost NFL expert. Here's a few recent columns that elucidate his genius...

http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/news?slug=cnnsi-playingnottowin&prov=cnnsi&type=lgns

http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/news?slug=cnnsi-tvcommentatoraw&prov=cnnsi&type=lgns

(In the latter one, you can't see the stars he gives out. When he says "no one" in the first line, it's for 5 stars. Then it goes 4 1/2 and so on down the line. For some reason I can't access SI.com on my computer at work...)

Other musings:
A friend and I were commenting on the rise of people throwing parties for tsunami victims. While I can't make fun of that, especially when I've done nothing, I've obviously notiched how "tsunami relief" has become the new buzzword for charity. Tsunami, the unfortunately named downtown sushi bar I went to for New Year's, should change its name to Tsunami Relief. Business would triple, I'm sure.

At the high school game I covered on Saturday, the cheerleaders were holding a tsunami relief bake sale. I went over there, spying some delicious baked goods and asked for some prices. The would-be charitable souls were selling two cupcakes for 50 cents and three cookies for a quarter. And this game wasn't in Mayberry, but right in the city. I guess they set their goals pretty low.

Because I care so much, I gave them a whole buck for one cupcake and one cookie.

A side note: With said cupcake in hand, I walked over to my seat. I was a little out of it at the time after drinking for the first half of the game before going cold turkey since, complete with headache and glossed over eyes. A very attractive high school girl sitting to my right caught said eyes and I must've stared quite hard because she looked right at me and gave me a sarcastic, "Hey, what's up?"

So from then on out, I made a vow: Only stare at high school girls from behind.

p.s. Go Steelers

Garden Living

2005-01-14T13:01:00.000-06:00

Now this is what they should be teaching in schools. There were a lot of girls in my high school who couldn't succeeded as exotic dancers. As a matter of fact, I can think of two quick learners that did become strippers. One of which we saw at Club Erotica on my buddy's 21st in that carefree year of 1999.

We saw the black girl when we entered and my buddy thought she looked familiar. But I laughed it off. Much later in the night, a few of us were sitting near the main stage, crumpled dollars in tow, when she flipped her extensions up, stared us in the face and blurted out, "You guys were in the Key Club right?" There's something you don't often hear at the nudie bars.

She talked with us for awhile (we didn't really know her and all I remember is that she dated this weird, possibly retarded white dude and once left her bookbag with birth control pills in the front pocket at a friend's house after a school play) and made us promise not to tell anyone in Steubenville. That lasted about a half-day, and only because we didn't have cell phones.

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&cid=514&e=8&u=/ap/20050114/ap_on_fe_st/students_stripping

GARDEN LIVING
In a heretofore unpublished series of "what it's really like to live in the Garden Apartment," I'll share a scary story of living right at my pitiful means.

Our landlord Marc lives above us and is a bit eccentric. A nice guy, to be sure, he is easily mistaken for a homeless man. His apartment's decor is shabby clutter and his rusting, pre-90s car is filled to the ceiling with old newspapers and magazines. He lives with a young Asian woman, whom I imagine is his girlfriend. Her English is less than stellar and her manners leave something to be desired (she once greeted my cable guy, who was looking for my apartment with a "He no live here!" and a slammed door.

Marc put in a new furnace this fall, with the help of a slew of Mexicans who may or may not have had any idea what they were doing. It took them roughly nine hours to take the old one out and put the new one, which was a bad sign. The next bad sign was when it broke less than a week later.

Since then, he's had to come in at least three times to fix it. I woke up to a cold Chicago morning yesterday but forgot to tell him about the latest breakdown until later that evening. Most times it just takes a re-lighting of the gas, so I wasn't too worried.

But as I knocked on his door, I heard scrambling and talking, but no approaching. I came back an hour later and received the same cold shoulder. I left a message and Rob left two.

Rob, being a whiny bitch, wanted to leave, abandon our dirty surroundings for Miller's apartment or the gay men's hotel in Boy's Town. I stood strong and wrapped myself in my covers. Around 1:30 a.m., I woke up and I could see my breath.

Woke up two hours later and my extremities were wishing I went to Boy's Town. But at 7 a.m., and this is when it gets weird, Marc barged in my room, dressed as if he was coming from Nova Scotia, instead of upstairs. Understand, my bedroom has a door that leads outside. It's a nice little touch that screams poverty and unnecessary convenience all at once.

Our front door lock broke and Marc never made a key for himself so if he comes in, he uses my bedroom door, which isn't weird at all.

But after scaring the shit out of me, he fixed the furnace and we woke up happy.

I guess at $480 a month (each and yes, I'm bragging), you get what you pay for.

Coming up in GARDEN LIVING, part 2: Marc gives Rob the naked massage he's been waiting for all of his life ...

OC, Orange County or out of control or Obstinate Cuckold

2005-01-13T19:19:00.000-06:00

Well, the OC's on, but really I'm just biding time til Jonny Zero starts ...

I must say this Seth Cohen thing bugs me, because I was Seth Cohen in high school, except for the good looks and lack of braces. I was Jewish, collected comic books and (surprisingly) awkward with girls. It didn't quite have the same effect. If there was Friendster back then, no girls would've said I was the boy they wanted to meet.

7:26: I can't believe Summer's boyfriend didn't understand what she was getting at there, with the pre-sex talk. That's never happened on TV!

7:26+: To accentuate my previous rant, I would never, and will never, have a chance with a hot tatooed girl like this. I like this relationship more than most fake ones, because it aggravates girls to no end. I really hope he marries her, or at least knocks her up and drops out of school.

This long-lost sister thing is so bizarre, way too soap opera-ish. Then again, the Cohen family adopted a good-looking rogue from the wrong side of the tracks, the old guy (I'm bad with names) married some young trim (that never happens!) who lived next door to his family.

One thing I do like is Mischa Barton drinking all the time. Hilarious. And pretty realistic.

7:35: Once "Kashmir" came into conversation, I knew this "fish out of water" dinner was going to go swimmingly. And Thomas Friedman's dinner table doesn't even sound like this. Irrigation village, give me a break.

7:37: My heart strings are tugging. Alex's father doesn't love her. I WISH I could date a high school drop-out who looks like that. Did I say that before?

7:38: The Mexican boyfriend stays in the picture!

7:42: Someone raid the school coffeehouse, the cops at are the Cohens!

(All these exclamation points got me to thinking ...

ELAINE: You wanted to see me, Mr. Lippman?

LIPPMAN: I was just uh going over the Jake Jarmel book and I understand you worked with him very closely on this.

ELAINE: Yes (clears her throat) yes I did.

LIPPMAN: And uh, anyway I was just reading your final edit and um, there seems to be an inordinate number of exclamation points.

ELAINE: Uh well um, I felt that the writing lacked certain emotion and intensity.

LIPPMAN: Ah, (reads an excerpt) "It was damp and chilly afternoon, so I decided to put on my sweatshirt!"

ELAINE: Right, well...

LIPPMAN: You put exclamation point after sweatshirt?

ELAINE: That's that's correct, I-I felt that the character doesn't like to be ch-ch-chilly...

LIPPMAN: I see, (reads another excerpt) "I pulled the lever on the machine, but the Clark bar didn't come out!" Exclamation point?

ELAINE: Well, yeah, you know how frustrating that can be when you keep putting quarters and quarters in to machine and then (prrt) nothing comes out...

LIPPMAN: Get rid of the exclamation points...

ELAINE: Ok, ok ok ...

LIPPMAN: I hate exclamation points...

Man, this episode, No. 68, was too good!

GEORGE: Well, I was 14 years old. I was in my friends bathroom. His mother's brassieres were hanging on the shower rod and I picked it up, studied it. I thought, I like this. I didn't know what way or what level, but I knew: I wanted to be around brassieres.

FARKUS: That's an incredible story. You have a remarkable passion for brassieres.

GEORGE: Well, they're more than an underwear to me Mr. Farkus. Two cups in the front, two loops in the back. How do they do it?

...

KRAMER: I'll have a brewsky, Charlie.

BARTENDER: The name's Mitch.

KRAMER: Oh, there's nothing like a cold one after a long day, eh?

BARRY: Yeah.

KRAMER: Oh yeah, I've been known to drink a beer or two. But then again, I've been known to do a lot of things. (Waiter opens the counter which hits Kramer on the head) Cigarette?

BARRY: (sniffs) No, I never touch them.

KRAMER: I suck'em down like Coca-Cola. Well here's to feeling good all the time. (Kramer drinks the beer and smokes the cigarette at the same time. Barry sniffs) Looks like you've got yourself a little cold there, eh fella?

BARRY: I don't think so.

KRAMER: Me neither.

(Kramer puts the cigarette back in his mouth the wrong way))

7:47: These guys left again! Haven't they heard of masturbating? ... Summer's an idiot. There's no way around it. I think she's hot too, and I know she's not real, but the character of Summer is a moron. And Mischa Barton needs a drink. And a steak. Maybe she should go to Ditka's. Can they write that into the script? Ooh, I bet a surprise is coming up for Sandy and Mrs. Sandy...

In regular Orange County, wouldn't these disagreements just end in divorce? Here in fantasyland, they end in song ... Man, this is rough. Where're the alt rock bands? Modest Mouse? Death Cab for Cutie? Ms. Pac-Man's Clitoris? Anyone?

7:52: Has this $5,000 "Leave her alone, you proletariat hunk" test been used on every teen soap opera? Are the writers just watching 90210 re-runs now? Is DJ going to start beating Mischa and then join The Heights? We can only hope...

7:55: This breakup might make Mischa start drinking, or keep drinking. Whatever.

8:00: Let the lesbianism reign forever and ever! A hot, tatooed, high school drop-out lesbian. Can't miss!

OU's bustiest back in business

2005-01-10T23:24:00.000-06:00

So I just got back from watching the Bachelorette ... on Tivo no less. Nothing says "girl" or "whipped boyfriend" like watching Bachelorette on Tivo.

I'm not a boyfriend, but I was on a date (I recommend Life Aquatic. Not as whimsical as Royal Tenenbaums, but good nonetheless, and pay attention to the Portuguese songs and wait til the credits.) and we were near her place, and I'll be honest, Jen Schefft lured me in for a little Tiviewing.

As a fellow Ohio University grad, I felt I owed to her. OK, that's a lie. I just wanted to see her boobs - the biggest set for a famous OU grad, aside from Devon and Peter King. Unfortunately I was with my date and her roommate and I couldn't comment on them during the show. Good thing I have this for an outlet.

We came in halfway through the show and only used Tivo for the Chicago shots in the beginning and the two virgins' admissions in the meet 'n greet process. For my female readers, I'll give some advice, don't date a virginal, 29-year-old Motivational Speaker who says "my body isn't a carnival ride." Unless it's Matt Foley.

For those who didn't watch, a Chicago native is the guy they kept showing fainting during the rose ceremony. He didn't get picked in the end, which he blamed on his "spell." IN reality, it was probably because he was kind of creepy, like the type of guy you see twitching and staring at himself in the gym in between power cleans. Also he's a "marketing consultant." Now there's probably 15,000 marketing consultants in Chicago. I'll give a free shout-out to ANYONE who knows what this job means.

Token black guy got picked. Shocking. Good looking dude, seems cool. Has no fucking chance of winning. Sorry dude.

Then there's the creepy lawyer from New York, who was really into Jen. Not only did they acknowledge this in the previews but they gave the poor guy the stalker tag, a serious Primetime Live, slo-mo close-up followed up by police cars. I really hope that guy didn't have a viewing party ... or ask his girlfriends to Tivo it.

Rob's bottomless pit and Cream Cheese vs Yellow

2005-01-10T14:35:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting here in my cube with no plan on actually doing any real work today (hence the strong blogging workload) as this girl in our office tells my roommate/co-worker Rob how she hates lunch. How one can specifically hate a meal is beyond me, but the funniest part of this discussion is how much Rob LOVES lunch, and meals of all kind.

I figured out the other day there isn't one food he doesn't like. He's a garbage disposal, "a remorseless eating machine" as the Sea Captain would say. I asked him if there's anything he won't eat. He thought hard and said, in all seriousness, "straight coconut."

Now the only place you're going to find straight coconut, according to Hollywood, is a deserted island. So if you were on a deserted island, Rob, would you eat a coconut?

"Yeah, of course."

The day of this conversation, I must add, he spent $18 at lunch.

I've noted that if he didn't keep somewhat kosher (no milk and meat, shellfish or pork), he'd probably be 500 pounds. And he'd certainly be less annoying to go out to dinner with.
...

Anyone who's been to Israel and spent time with or looking at Israelis, know how ridiculously they dress. Especially when it comes to T-shirts and "American" fashion.

I was there for the second time this past summer and did a group tour with a dozen Israeli soldiers in tow. Most were girls from 18-20 and as nice as they were, they looked pretty nuts at times.

One girl wore a shirt that was black mesh on the top and bottom with the University of Michigan logo in the middle, in red and black, no less. Someone asked her why she was wearing a Michigan shirt and she replied, "I didn't buy it because it was Meechigan, I bought it because it is beautiful."

After one of our numerous, inexplicable trips to a mall, the same girl bought a new shirt and immediately put it on.

"Do you like my shirt Josh?" she asked, well, Josh.

"Yeah, it's great. It says Motor Baby and has a motorcycle," he responded.

This same girl also wore her Air Force uniform like Madonna, with one shoulder hanging down.

John Shear, Garden Apartment's fashion/.frechot correspondent sent in the following clip from jewsweek.com that talks about the same issue:

Other differences in Israeli society are more comical than anything.
The funniest thing here may very well be the t-shirts. In America the
phrases on t-shirts are in English and in Israel, the phrases are,
naturally, also in English. An Israeli at my yeshiva sits in the study hall
clad in a shirt that reads, "Do what feels good. Hookup if you want to.
Life is a party."

My friend, noting the irony, asked him what it meant. He had no clue.
It might be funny enough to know that the majority of these
t-shirt-wearing-Israelis do not know enough English to understand the words on
their backs. But the situation is doubly funny to an English-speaker as
even to one literate in the language, the phrases often make no sense.
Today, I walk in the street and see someone's back. "Cream Cheese is
Better than Yellow" his back says to me. Great. Good for cream cheese, I
guess. My friends and I sit in the room one day and ponder what motivates
these Israelis. They are in the store and they see "Cream Cheese is
Better than Yellow" and think, without having the slightest clue why this
phrase merits its own t-shirt, "Man, I just have to have this! My
friends are gonna love this shirt! It's in English!" We come to no
resolution. But our favorite, and by far the most random we have seen is
"Cruising down highway 66 ... a cool lemonade in your hand ... wind in your
hair ... makes good decisions."

Johnny, I must add, asked me to buy him a Coca-Cola T-shirt when I lived in Jerusalem in 2001. I was at a store getting it when two Israeli guys chuckled at me and said, "Why, eh. Coca-Cola?" I explained it was for a friend and was slightly embarassed until I realized they were putting text on striped, multi-colored (non-sports) rugby shirts, the kind you bought at Eddie Bauer in 1996.
Thankfully, Johnny soon harnassed the power of the Internet and began purchasing Israeli goods online. Since then, Israel's GNP has grown by 400 percent.

C-busted weekend

2005-01-10T11:21:00.000-06:00

OK, so the weekend wasn't a bust, but I like snappy titles. Then again, I'm the guy who once wrote a headline - after Bartolo Colon (pronounced "cologne") was traded - that read "Sabathia cleanses Colon issue."

So anyway, I went to Columbus for a wedding of a close college friend, actually the first person/girl I met at orientation, who married our student newspaper editor, a heckuva nice guy who inexplicably did a duet of Sweet Home Alabama with his best man and two brooms at the reception.

After a refreshing six-hour drive through Indiana and Ohio, I arrived at my buddy Joe's house. Yes, house. For those lucky people who don't live in big cities, it is remarkably inexpensive to buy an actual house in nice sub-divisions with dorky names like "Aqueduct Trail" and "Trapped in a Loveless Marriage Lane."

Joe and his roommates aren't what you'd call inappropriately mature 25- to 26-year-olds. They still drink excessively, dip, watch sports, gamble and try to pick up girls. But they do live in a family-dominated neighborhood, complete with "damn kids" that steal their Christmas lights and pilfer through their garage when they leave it open at night. Sometimes they'll find coolers and bocce sets in the middle of their driveway in the morning. Watching them get worked up over it is nothing short of hilarious and makes me feel better I pay $20 less a month to live in a basement in Chicago.

So we go out Friday to a passel of meathead bars that dominate Columbus. Gasworks and Brothers make Barleycorns look like the Standard Club. Or what I imagine the Standard Club to look like, since I've never been there and will probably never be invited to join. But girls in Columbus are never hard to look at. The city is full of young, trashy hot (or stripper hot) girls who smell like cheap, fruity lotion. The dance floor at Brothers, like the Rub and Tugs in Chinatown, is best described as "a good place to get a hand job."

Of course, I watched my friends play pool, which was just as well.

Saturday I did some sightseeing, which in the outskirts of Columbus proper means eating at Baja Fresh and hitting chain stores at the various strip malls that dominate the landscape of Retailville, USA.

For dinner on Friday, Joe took me out for some local cuisine, meaning Sesame chicken tenders at TGI Friday's. We were close to going to Kahoots!, a restaurant that has actual topless waitresses. As this place has been an upstanding business for some time, I imagine their waitresses, unlike the topless ones we've met, are actually willing to take their tops off. So with that, and the fact that the most popular strip bar in Columbus is BYOB, I guess the Buckeye City has a garter-belted leg up on dowdy Chicago.

The wedding was fun. I got to see some people I knew in college with whom I worked with for awhile and liked in varying degrees. That's a long-winded way of saying "people I was kind of friends with, but not really."

I went "stag," which was kind of depressing especially since everyone had a serious girlfriend, fiancee or wife. Of course after seeing most of these signifcant others, I didn't feel too bad. Especially since I worked with, and cringed at, some of the girls. (Wth the exception of my friend Ryan, who found a smoking hot, and really nice, girl a month before we graduated college and married her last week. He currently works as a reporter for the Cincinnati Enquirer. To put this all in perspective, I hired him in college and he worked under me, not very hard, I might add. A nice guy though who's improved tremendously, and funny as hell. But he's got a much better job than me, and while he met his wife in May 2001, I was hooking up with a trashy freshman girl who may or may not have banged our starting 5 the next year. Now THAT didn't depress me at all. Nope, not one bit.)

But I did get a little choked up when my friend Liz walked down the aisle. She's the third of my close girl friends to get married this year. She and I sat next to each other at freshman orientation and became friends fall quarter. We had our ups and downs throughout college, a mix of romantic, professional and friendship snafus that we managed to get through. Since I had no one to consistently talk to throughout the night, I thought about those moments often. How glad I was to be friends with her for so long and how I regretted any problems we had. She professed her love to me once, sophomore year, and I blew her off. She then got the best revenge, beating me out for Sports Editor of our school paper. She almost didn't pick me for Assistant Sports Editor, though I was by far the most qualified and did nothing to provoke such a decision. She eventually did but I think that caused a tiny rip in our relationship. The next year was rocky, as we both were overworked and underpaid and struggling with personal issues outside of the paper. We didn't speak from graduation until the next fall when I was in Israel and I found out she got a job in Kentucky and we began e-mailing regularly. We speak often now, mostly through e-mail, which pleases me to no end.

After my heart strings were pulled as such, I wanted something else pulled, but Joe's housemates and I ended up eschewing the strip club for Steak and Shake after a short trip to a local yokel bar.

On our way out, a car pulled up and a guy jerked the passenger door open, yakked on the ground, stumbled a few feet to a grassy knoll near a car and threw up again before face planting himself into the ground.

"Hey buddy, Steak and Shake's not going to help that," I said, with a mighty zing.

One near vomit, a trip to another strip mall, and a bad football game later, I was on the road again. Back to Chicago, where nothing had changed in my absence, including the icy clumps of snow on my parking spot, untouched by my roommate Rob, a shovel or bag of rock salt.

This just in

2005-01-05T23:31:00.000-06:00

FYI, Rob is not only watching Chasing Liberty right now (starring the incandescent Mandy Moore as the President's "rebellious" daughter), but he's shushing me during it and asking questions like, "Shouldn't they be worrying about their wallets being stolen?"

But him in a bodybag...Yeah!

2005-01-04T23:17:00.000-06:00

Sweep the leg, Johnny...

http://www.pattonoswalt.com/features/johnnylawrence.html

This isn't as good as it sounds here, but what the hell...
http://drunkenstepfather.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-am-kirsten-dunst-nip-slip.html

I can't believe ...

2005-01-02T18:14:00.000-06:00

... I forgot these gems.

The scene: my apartment, New Year's Eve.
UNKNOWN FRIEND OF A FRIEND: "I'm thinking of going to Lebanon soon."
KNOWN IDIOT FRIEND: "Why would you go there? There's Arabs there."
- Of course, the guy is Persian and not Jewish, so that doesn't bother him as much, I guess.

The scene: Lincoln Park, New Year's Day 5K

ROB: (inexplicably picking up his phone while running a race) Hey, man I'm running a 5k right now ...
ANNOYED GUY NEXT TO ROB: Tell him you'll fucking call him back!

New Year, same ol' shit...

2005-01-01T17:56:00.000-06:00

It may be 2005 (and that phrase can work both ways as I do allow the years to pass even though I get older and fatter), but the times aren't a changing. Things are pretty much normal at the Garden Apartment.
I drank and laughed too much last night. I missed out on tons of good bonding time with my boys as I canoodled the night away, or made headway in canoodling attempts.
My apartment is cluttered with empty domestic beer cans, giving off the smell of Ohio University. I slept most of the day, missing football and most of the first day of the year.
There were tons of funny stories from last night, lots of heavy laughs from myself, my friends and random people thrown into the mix. We had a girl on guy minor fighting, that I missed, and some girl on girl midnight kissing, which I also missed.
There was a lot of reminiscing, telling and re-telling old stories that have made the last five years so enjoyable. I also found out some new things, most notably that last year's midnight kiss, made quite a cuckold of me a few months into our pseudo-relationship, unbeknownest to me.
But the Garden Apartment is no place for melodrama, not in 2005.

Funniest things overheard:
This one's number one with a bullet, so I can't even build it up.
"I hope I'm as pretty you when I'm 28!"
Doralee, my friend Charlie's lovely 21-year-old girlfriend, to my going-on-29 date, who felt quite old after hearing that.

"I promise I'll be good. I won't even try to take her shirt off."
A very eligible 30-year-old doctor talking to my "date" about hooking up with her roommate. Surprisingly this gentlemanly sell didn't work.

"You're on my sister's list of guys I can't make out with."
A girl that I have made out with.

"Hey, why not the Schaumburg Hooters?"
My man Grossman talking about our New Year's Day Buca di Beppo reservation (not made by either of us), made conveniently for 9 p.m.

"It's not a party unless Lori's boyfriend feels me up."
Our pec-heavy Garden Apartment favorite John Shear on our friend Lori's touchy-feely boyfriend.

"Does this tomato soup have bacon in it?"
My Jewish-law following roommate Rob at a restaurant on Tuesday. But it was repeated again today by Doralee, changed to Matzo Ball soup.

There's so many good ones I know I'm forgetting, but I'm on no sleep and my blood is 30 pct Miller Lite. But here's a final one I enjoyed tremendously:

"You're putting on too much makeup!"
Matt Greenberg's wife Shoshanna to him, in my bathroom. Really. Sorry ladies, he's taken.

NIGHTCAP
After our party, I went to get pizza with aforementioned date, Johnny and wacky Ben Ellis. At Chi-Town Pizza, Ellis, wearing a fuzzy Kangol hat, started yelling "Give us our Jew pizza!" The guys behind us took offense to that, not knowing Ellis, in fact, is Jewish. Johnny played peacemaker, pointing to his Star of David nestled in his open chest hair, in between a $250 see-through shirt no other self-respecting straight man could pull off.

Then in a move that most Jews would gasp at, Johnny paid $32 for an entire pizza. And in another move all Jewish girls would gasp at, Ellis left his fiancee somewhere, lost his phone and proceeded to come back to date's apartment to eat a $32 pizza.

Happy New Year to all. Now Only 2 hrs til I can kick off 2005 right with a family-style meal at an Italian chain restaurant.

Genocide, raw dogging and big balls

2004-12-25T20:55:00.000-06:00

Ah, the holidays. Good tidings, great cookies, doing unto others as they did unto you, all that shit. For me and my friends, the weekend, starting Thursday night, included two very good, very serious movies (and for one couple, Meet the Fockers, which was only depressing if you're a fan of Robert DeNiro's filmograpy), a good makeout sess for me, while a couple friends made do with some "intimate encounter" with girls they just met.

We hit the Matzo Ball last night, the Retro Eve one with the city-famous Afrodesiacs, not the more scene-y and well-lit Rockit or the desperately single and socially inept Jdate function at some bar I've never been to.

The Matzo Ball was good, most of my friends looking for tail (or to be more delicate, trim) found some, in varying degrees, shapes and sizes.

I also ran into the girl I hooked up with there last year, a couple girls I've dated or hooked up with, which is, as I've said before, the point of an All-Jewish "mixer."

While I can't give reviews on my friends' sexual dalliances, I can give four stars to both movies I saw, Million Dollar Baby and Hotel Rwanda. I saw the latter today, which was supposed to be the precursor to Life Aquatic, but unfortunately the print never made it to the theater, hijacked by hipsters on the open highway, I guess. So we were bereft of whimsy this Christmas, unfortunately, but I did get to see a fact-based story about genocide with a guy who played a country-music loving porn star.

So what did you do?

Good tidings and cock shots

2004-12-21T15:06:00.000-06:00

First up, I'd like to let those Anonymous posters and J-Rod know I love the comments, keep 'em up. Though I still think you're gay, J-Rod, or Gay Rod. Gay, gay, gay, gay (Just kidding, I know most fantasy owners are bi, or married, which is similar). And Phil, love the segway. It's really revolutionized urban transit. As per Phil's request, I think I've "syndicated" this site, so it has an RSS feed, which is http://gardenapt.blogspot.com/atom.xml .

I don't know what that means, but enjoy!

I have a huge stack of papers in front of me that I'm supposed to be editing, but since I make roughly 6 nickels an hour, I'd share with you some funny tales from our holiday party.

Before I talk about this year's holiday party at my anonymous company, I must harken back to last year, in the more innocent time that was 2003. Back then we looked at baseball players innocently, knowing in our hearts the only cheating going on was stealing signs or banging chicks on the side. Those things are now looked at wistfully, like Mike LaValliere.

So back to 2003. Our slapped-together party was at Slugger's, a Wrigleyville bar that specializes in post-season depression after baseball's done. Our boss got it into his head that we should have a Golden Tee tournament for money. Granted none of us had ever spoken about this game, or golf in general. So we went there early and proceeded to get drunk and play out-dated arcade games. One of our interns, a 21-year-old black (that is an important note as you'll see) girl of generous proportions, got bombed out her gourd and slowly began making inappropriate comments to Rob and myself, including making blowjob gestures to Rob, insinuating he's "in bed" with our boss. Also some Mexican guys asked to watch her pee, but that's neither here nor there.

We move on to Bar Louie across the street, where said intern challenges our boss to why he forgot to pay her (in fact, she sent in her hours too late). "Andrew, you bitch! Where's my money?" was her delicate way of broaching the subject. To his credit, our boss realized she was wasted and told her he would resolve the matter in the next week. She repeated her inquiry, colorful as it was. Our boss turned around. At that moment she blurted out, somewhat quieter, "Hey Andrew, ever fucked a black chick before?"

Soon she informed my date that if she "wanted to get off, she better get on top," then threw up on herself, in mid-sentence, seemingly peed her pants and kept drinking.

She showed up to work the next day, explaining simply that "y'all just never seen me drunk before."

This year we realized there would be no way to equal that performance. We went bowling to Diversey Rock and Bowl, famous for its bad local commercials of hipster chicks, ugly ones at that, talking about how fun it is to bowl near the highway. While they tended bar, we bowled. I don't want to brag, but I nearly broke 100 once. Of course that's not the real story.

The real story was our "intern" Eric, who's our boss's doorman's son. We hired Eric as a favor to our boss and he seemed like a good worker at first. He made a ton of fact-checking phone calls and seemed like a nice-enough guy. Then he we began to notice how much he sleeps at work. And not just nodding off, but actual head back in the chair snoring. I found it hilarious. My more responsible co-workers felt otherwise. He also told us stories about the time he went to jail for assault (he fell asleep on a train going to the South Side and woke up to find some guy going through his pockets. So he got up and beat this guy unmercifully, which is understandable.). He also offered this bon mot to our other intern Dan, a sheltered, North Shore Jewish kid:

DAN: How was your date? Did you take her out to dinner?
ERIC: Dinner? Man, I took her home and fucked the shit out of her. She's not the type of girl you take out the house.

He also offered another doozy that's serious enough I can't repeat it here ...

Eric wins this year's "Inappropriate Act of the Party" by showing our co-worker Lynsey a picture of his cock measured next to a remote control. I never found out which was bigger. Lynsey, who is extremely attractive and a bit saucy, asked why he would have this on a camera phone, and he replied "I was messing around and wanted to show it my boy."

Needless to say, I can't wait until 2005.

Blog for the rest of us

2004-12-19T21:29:00.000-06:00

We're in that lull now, the time between Hanukkah and Christmas. The beautiful pocket of time known as Festivus.

Festivus, brought to the public's attention in a 1997 episode of Seinfeld, is sure to become cliché and overdone - see this article, for example. http://www.nytimes.com/2004/12/19/fashion/19FEST.html

Heck, my paper in Yuma, Ariz., had a Festivus party two years ago. But I enjoy being cranky, so, to quote Frank Costanza: "The tradition of Festivus begins with the airing of grievances. I got a lot of problems with you people! And now you're gonna hear about it!"

Sportscenter: Boo yah.

Most educated fans avoid watching this show with the sound on unless absolutely necessary. Most of the good talent has left the anchor chairs and those on there now have devolved into shucking and jiving shills for themselves. Caricatures of caricatures. The show is bloated with idiotic games and meaningless Q & A's. Every in-house production is promoted to the nth degree, no matter how crappy it turns out.

But that's not really my problem. What's really annoying is those people still stuck in 1996 and still rave about how they never miss it! Most of these people are girls, including every girl on Jdate who's trying to sound attractive to sports-mad guys.

The only guys who still watch regularly are fantasy nerds, which actually is probably good for the Jdaters, because as I'll explain later, those type of people are perfect for each other.

Fantasy sports: The reason most guys like, or in some cases obsess over, fantasy sports is that it fulfills our competitive desire to be smarter than our friends when it comes to sports knowledge.

This competitive drive is particularly strong with traders, brokers and other business-type dorks who beat my F in Econ 101, and dorks who are looking to fill the emptiness in their lives, most caused by latent homosexuality.

But like most non-fantasy addicts, I'm sick of hearing about everyone's team like they did anything but read a magazine and draft players based on statistics. It's not rocket science or for that matter, earth science. Photosynthesis is more interesting to me, and I'm a sportswriter.

Thankfully fantasy football is almost over (and it's done in my apartment where Rob is sulking away his playoff loss today to Phil Schwarz's Rolling Segways, and probably blaming Epstein.) and we have a three-month lull until fantasy baseball gets going.

Now onto Jdate. If you're on Jdate, don't lie. Don't say you're quitting any day now. We know you're not. Or if you do quit, you're join again in a few months when someone "hotlist's" you. Be like Miller, who not only found his girlfriend there, but also still patrols it like Frank Drebin.

As a semi-frequent purveyor of the site, I have one suggestion for you girls (besides the Sportscenter line). We know it's possible to like watching baseball games while drinking a beer AND staying in sometimes to watch a movie and cuddle. It doesn't make you special.

Tivo: Yes, I get it. You can tape your shows. It's not the best invention ever. Seriously.

The Apprentice and its fans: Is it over yet? I'm convinced the Bush Administration created this show, the DaVinci Code, the O.C., Tivo, free fantasy sports and iPods as an opiate to the middle-class to upper-class American public.

If every American took all the time they spent discussing these trivial things and concentrated it into changing the world for the better, we'd...Ah damn, my blackberry's vibrating, gotta run.

A learned man speaks, or writes

2004-12-12T22:01:00.000-06:00

Some would say I'm a learned man - with "learn-ed" pronounced in two syllables for any of you dumbasses out there, and that means I have certain responsibilities. So as a PSA (that's Public Service Announcement, like when Joey from Blossom would tell you about reading or mousse or something), I figured I'd share the wisdom with you, my readers.

Hiring a topless waitress is not as easy as it sounds. We learned that Friday when the one Johnny hired for his housewarming party got cold feet (or nipples, as it were) and refused to take her top off because there were too many girls there. No one pointed out that a whopping 100 percent of strippers are bi-sexual (A very scientific survey of the one stripper I've known personally). While she wouldn't undress, and believe me no sober person would ask her to, she proceeded to hang out at the party, throwing out a creepy vibe that reverberated off his Judaica and minimalist decor.

One guy, who shall remain nameless got a "lap dance" from her. I use sarcastic, finger-motion quotation marks around that because no one really knows what happened in that room, but he claims it was just a lap dance. What I do know is that I had to donate $40 for something.

Another John Doe spent the night trying to get her number, reportedly trying to impress her by telling her he's in marketing.

I've also learned that topless waitresses, judging by the one I've now seen, are nasty skanks with legs the size of Lisa Nemon (that's each leg the size of one, small girl).

Another life lesson imparted on me against my will:
If a girl tells you to meet her and her friends out a club completely out of your way, make sure to ask if in fact, her friends are also girls (This also works well if you're a girl looking for some cock, and unlike 100 pct of all strippers, you're not bi.). This problem came up last weekend, when my boy Farbman talked us into going to Soundbar (Eurotrash meets, um, Eurotrash) from Lincoln Park.

He invoked the "friends" clause, which is kryptonite to me, as it should be. If a guy tells you he wants to meet a girl he has a reasonable chance of sleeping with, and she has "friends," you're pretty much indebted to go. As it stands, Farbman's a good-looking guy who's shallow and self-absorbed (but he's nice too, girls and smart!), so I figured there was a good chance on this one.

We took a cab downtown and paid $20 just to get in (Lesch, don't faint). His girl came out to meet us and, as expected, was very attractive. Five, 10 minutes later, she was still talking to us, seemingly unmoved by her hot friends, who were obviously waiting for us.

"Hey, where are your friends," I muster.

"They're around...Most of them are international." she says interestingly. That's a weird statement, I think to myself. "I met them in college." I try to envision a gaggle of hot Brazilians living in Champaign (or Urbana).

A few minutes later we walk by three Indian guys and she lets us on the secret. "There's half of them," she says innocently as she goes to talk to Keizer. "Like Keizer Soze!"

A few minutes after she laments the whereabouts of her girlfriend, we start to make the push to leave.

"I can see this isn't your place," she says to me, as if I can't hang in a club, seemingly oblivious to the fact we're not interested in listening to trance with Keizer and the rest of the Usual Suspects.

We eventually break away and after a brief stop at Barleycorn's, I end the night in the relative cocoon of my corner bar Gamekeeper's surround by my gorgeous friend Lynsey and my favorite busty Jewish bartender in the city (just beating out Deja Vu Pam) the lovely Jo.

Other things I've learned but don't feel like writing at length about:

I've also learned Funk is a great place to meet quirky, cute, Jewish actuaries who know Chad Mezvinsky, the jean shorts king of Peru. It's not, however, a good place to step on a large black man's shoes ... Some guys fly into cities on New Years to party like rock stars, some do it to play Clue in a small apartment ... If girls advertise they're throwing a wine and cheese party, and you don't like wine, bring beer. They won't have it ... The Luvabulls aren't all that lovable, but they sure love to dance (Again I only know one, but I trust my statistics).

The annual Matt Greenberg award for the most non-sensical sports statement of the day, also known as the "Indians are the best team in the league ever!" award:
"That was one of the all-time terrific plays of the year." Joe Theismann on Sunday Night Football.

And in closing:
"What is art? I don't know, but I think it has something to do with the gays."
Ali G

Readers weigh in

2004-12-06T21:06:00.000-06:00

My reading tastes skew toward The DaVinci Code and James Patterson books, i.e. I'm not that smart. What do you think I should be reading?
-Melissa M. Chicago

That's a good question. I don't know what James Patterson writes, but judging by his target audience, it can't be that good.

So here's some reco's:
If you're obsessed with pop culture: Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs by Chuck Klosterman. Most of my readers have read this, and I give it my 5-star approval. It's impossibly good.

If you liked Catcher in the Rye in high school: Go for Nine Stories. Salinger's short story book. Excellent.

If you've never read David Sedaris: READ DAVID SEDARIS. What are you waiting for? Start with Naked, then Me Talk Pretty One Day, then his new one, Dressing Your Family in Corduroy and Denim. Also Barrel Fever, which has his best all-around story.

If you like sports: Playing for Keeps by David Halberstam. A good Michael Jordan retrospective. Follow with Michael Leahy's new expose on Jordan with the Wizards...Sandy Koufax A Lefty's Legacy by Jane Leavy...You Know Me Al, old Ring Lardner tome on an unsufferable baseball player that rings true today.

If you're a Jew ... The Chosen by Chaim Potok. I know most people read this in, like, 8th grade, but I just finished it. Awesome...Also Tough Jews by Rich Cohen.

If you're fucked up: All the Bret Easton Ellis books. Seriously, they're all awesome.

Laguna Beach is ending? Should I kill myself, or just start back on my anti-depressants? - Martha T, Chicago
I know it's tough. My diagnosis: Order Playboy TV. A week of Night Calls and you won't remember that show, or any others show, ever existed.

Why don't you post more? I know you don't work.
- John S, Chicago

That's a good question.

You watch a lot of TV. What's the worst commercial on right now?
- Ben S, Boston
Easy. The Yasmin commercial. It's a birth control pill with a solid minute full of warnings. But they don't stop "the date" while they're rattling them off. So we see two young sexed-up people moving up the steps of the girl's brownstone, amorous and randy, while the announcer's warning about how Yasmin doesn't stop HIV and can cause high blood pressure, cervical cancer, hysterical blindness and clubfoot. It's quite odd.

You're very good looking, some might say strikingly handsome. That's it. No question. - Emily P, Los Angeles
How'd that get in here? Who's screening these?

Not my brother's wife...

2004-12-01T09:52:00.000-06:00

...As many people know, my older brother has the same name as former Pirate pitcher Kris Benson. For better or for worse, my sister-in-law is nothing like Anna Benson. Read below to find out her revenge for her husband's imaginary infidelity.

http://www.nypost.com/gossip/pagesix.htm

A kiss is just a kiss...

2004-11-29T13:55:00.000-06:00

... unless it's these two faux lesbians on www.ksquaredphotos.blogspot.com (no link, cut and paste you lazy fucks), then a kiss is just one of a hundred pictures of two girl friends living it up in New York.

This will forever be the archetype of all blogs dedicated to girls who like to kiss for fun and take 50 versions of the same picture at cool-sounding bars in the city.

Someone get Jasmin Rosemberg on the case to check these broads out.

Other funny moments from the weekend that just occurred to me:
At Steelers games, home first downs and sacks are accompanied by scoreboard graphics of a large, ripped, shirtless black man. He carries the first "dahn" chains and flexes for sacks. Quite honestly it's one of the most homoerotic images in sports since Isiah and Magic used to kiss before tipoff. I have no idea why they have this up there if it's not an homage to Kordell Stewart ...

I returned my rental car to the airport at 6 a.m. today. I filled up the car last night, knowing I wouldn't stop this morning. Well, I only had 3/4 of a tank after the drive to the airport so I was charged $12 for 2 gallons of gas. Just imagine how much that would've cost me if we hadn't invaded Iraq.

A trip to a Pittsburgh mall is a must for any visitor to the Steel City. If you see an ugly Steelers shirt, like say one with a giant Roethlis-burger on it, and say to yourself, "Now, no one would buy that seriously," you are guaranteed to see someone wearing it, tucked into khakis, immediately after leaving the store. You will also see trashy girls wearing Steelers jerseys on Saturday for no apparent reason. I'd guess half the girls at the mall, ages 17 to 30, would blow you in the bathroom for a Terrible Towel, a Roethlisberger hat and some face decals.

I need a nap and a hooker, in that order

2004-11-29T12:12:00.000-06:00

I'm writing with heavy eyelids after a 5 a.m. (East Coast) wakeup and flight from Pittsburgh to Chicago, where the Garden Apartment was just as I left it - though my computer was still on, no doubt overheated from Rob's Sunday Fantasy orgy (in case you're wondering, Andre's Dirty Sanchez team of Rob and Epstein bested Phil Schwartz's Segway Armada in the battle of the two highest scoring fantasy teams).

It was a long week, mostly spent in crappy bars with my alcoholic friends. I managed to drink every day from Tuesday to Sunday, though yesterday all I could manage with half an Amstel at the Steelers game.

Friday I hung out with my ex-girlfriend a bit. A lovely girl, she's still my archetypal girlfriend even though we haven't dated since my freshman year in college. She's one of the top 5 funniest people I know.

Two years younger than me, she's engaged to another guy named Jo(h)n, who is, in fact, not only the fourth Jo(h)n she's dated, but also the fourth that she's been the "first." The first John was a typical band geek. He thought he was really smart and a great musician, but really he was more like a C student who played the trumpet and worked at McDonald's. I was next, always the pinnacle of coolness.

Then game John No. 3, a nice enough guy three years my junior who was a great athlete and one of like a dozen kids who were serious Catholics. I kissed his sister once and she started at me in Chem class for like a month. She's now married with at least two kids and I saw him in Steubenville singing karoake in a girl's voice.

John No. 4 has the personality of a Geo Metro, but he's a nice guy, makes good money and treats her well. Plus he has to deal with her for the rest of his life, qualifying him for sainthood sometime around 2040.

We spent the night at the aforementioned Bar 909 and went to a late night dinner at Eat 'N Park, which no matter what John Shear says, is always a great idea. Our waitress was completely clueless, the perfect foil to seven drunks. I'd repeat some of the jokes, most at her expense, but they're really not funny unless your 12 beers in the tank at 3 a.m. Though when she asked us at the end if she could get us anything I summed up the evening by saying, "You've given us so much already."

I went out a little on Thanksgiving,a low-key night highlighted by a ride home in our friend Dobson's tricked-out Suburban which has two TVs and a PS2 in the back. I beat Wiz, who's unbeatable in Madden, 7-6 from the bar to my house, which was only one possession, but it's a win in my book. I truly understand rappers and athletes now.

Saturday was a trip to the Burgh, rolling from suburban Bethel Park to a bar in Shadyside, where I ran into: my college booty call (I threw some game around until I found out she wasn't drinking. Though she was wearing body glitter in her cleavage, a classy look), my earliest best friend from growing up (who also went to college with me), his brother and sister, and my mom's best friend's daughter who I haven't seen in probably 15 years and who is much bustier than I remember.

Sunday I lived it up in the Genco box at Heinz Field, drinking wine and eating gourmet cheeses. The highlight was meeting two girl friends of mine at halftime. They were shivering cold while I moseyed down with a cup of coffee and no hat or gloves. The best part of the game was scanning the crowd for funny clothing choices, like leather Penguin jackets and zubaz pants. I would estimate 40-45 percent of all Pittsburghers own a Steelers jersey, and probably 80 percent of the crowd at the game. Best jersey (tie): Roethlisberger Miami jersey and a guy wearing an 82 jersey that said Z-Man on the back.

At least 1 in 3 people at the airport this morning had some Steelers paraphenalia on. The best dressed award had to go to the woman who got off the plane in Chicago still wearing her black and gold jester's cap. Second place goes to Johnny's child's large "City of Champions" T-shirt.

Thanks for ... mutton

2004-11-25T12:51:00.000-06:00

STEUBENVILLE, Ohio - Yes, the subject is a gratuitous Seinfeld reference, and no I haven't bought the DVDs yet. Well, if you're reading this today, Thanksgiving, you're probably hungover.

I got up at noon today after an underwhelming night out in the "Ville." Not much of a headache, which is nice as my hangovers don't tend to relate directly to how much I drank. I was really worried about that I.C. Light my friends bought me, as that stuff tends to bowl me over like the Bus on 3rd and 1.

Here's a little diary of my two days home thus far. Times may vary.

6:45 p.m.: I walk toward my rental car. All I know is that it's a Cavalier and the parking space number. I see a red car in the distance and I pray it's mine. Landing a red Cavalier would rival the time I rented a Dodge Stratus in college. If you're confused, Mikey drove a red Cavalier in Swingers, and this nasty chick at the model party mocked him for it as he tried to recover.

"It's red...It's a red Cavalier."

6:50 p.m.: For some reason I take the exit going north to Beaver.

7:00 p.m: Back on the straight and narrow, heading home.

10 p.m.: I get to my friend J.J.'s house. His grandma lets me and gives me a smile. While she's always the picture of grandmotherly kindess, J.J. has admitted that she probably thinks I'm going to hell because I'm Jewish.

10:30 p.m.: J.J. and our friend Wiz both declare they would never go to a movie with just another guy in Columbus, because people might think that they're gay.

10:45 p.m.: Wiz reminisces on a 52-point spread Duke was giving in 1988. Seriously. He also checks 2004 spreads on his "phone." I use quotation marks because most phones don't include a stylus and an eight-inch screen. I have no idea what he does, besides gambling, but he owns a $750 phone.

11:15 p.m.: We're at Club 909, whose name is slightly misleading as it is a small sports-themed bar inside a bowling alley. I guess "Small Bar near Lane 20" didn't have the same panache. (Note from Thanksgiving. It's actually called Bar 909. People just call it Club 909. Perhaps as a joke. Carry on.)

11:25 p.m.: A local idiot, also named J.J., tells me my brother "fucked him over." When I was home last month, several people came up to me and said "I heard J.J. is living with your brother in Vegas." Confused, I said I didn't think so, but who knows. When I asked Josh, he said that wasn't the case and wondered how that rumor started.

Knowing my brother and his indifference to details, I imagine J.J. asked him to stay out there and Josh either thought he meant stay for a weekend, or that Josh didn't listen to him altogether and just nodded his head affirmatively.

So, J.J. went out there and Josh never returned his calls. "You shouldn't have listened to him," I replied.

11:30 p.m.: Immediately my friends start doing shots. Shaun, my good friend and roommate of 2 weeks, ends up spending $80 at a bar where beers cost $2. He once spend $175 in Athens, where beers were $1.65. He's an amazing spender. It's quite a gift.

11:45 p.m.: Shaun tells us his "new" car costs just twice as much as Wiz's phone.

WEDNESDAY

Afternoon: I get about 6 calls from my dad in Vegas, about how Josh's place is a mess and he's out buying cleaning supplies, and blahblahblah.

Josh tells me he's had his iPod on all day and isn't even listening to him.

I drive down to a local backdoor gaming establishment and place a few parlay bets. When you're in Steubenville, specifically if you're a guy, gambling and point spreads take up approximately 85 percent of the conversation. I still a two-teamer alive, Colts -9 and Bears game under 36 1/2. I only bet a small amount, just to "make it interesting."

9 p.m.: I make it over to J.J.'s again and a small green car with a W sticker blocks the driveway. It's our friend Paul Marker, who's on town from Middle Tennessee State University. He's finishing up there after starting at Minnesota and dropping out to work for country music star Brad Paisley.

He gets an immense amount of shit from us, all registered Democrats. "Paul's got a mandate from G-d, he can park wherever he wants." That type of stuff.

10:40 p.m.: You know you're important when you can get in the backdoor of your local homecoming bar. We know the owner very well, and he likes my group of friends tremendously as we've spent an inordinate amount of time there since turning 21. The bar, which is really a family-style restaurant, is packed as usual. One of three or four nights a year where they make serious ching. So we roll through the kitchen, like Swingers or Goodfellas, if you like, and get into the bar.

I don't have as many random conversations as I wanted to, and found that generally I didn't want to approach anyone. Few people, if anyone, is doing anything exciting and I learned the night before not to blindly ask, "So what are you up to now?"

12:30 a.m.: My boy Chris informs me our friends have just left for 909, and I say I'll follow him. But I'm talking to my friend's younger sister, who's the pinnacle of 22-year old hotness. I'm feeling buzzed and 15 minutes later, decide to stay put as I live 2 minutes from this bar and 909's on the other side of town. I sit with Jen (or Best-Friend Jen as she was known when she visited OU) and the Indian section of town, where we talk about saris and Ganesh. OK, not really. We talk about the Steelers and other important issues of the day.

1:45 a.m.: I run into a friend from high school who had moved to Chicago and we make plans to hang out. The lights are on and all of the young girls are exposed in their heavy makeup and bad clothes. I walk to my white Cavalier, thankful I don't have to do this every day.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Minor celebrities, major holidays

2004-11-23T10:57:00.000-06:00

Well, this is probably my last pre-Thanksgiving post, unless I write drunk on Wednesday, though 9 out of 10 bloggers say it's dangerous to drink and rant.

I will update on Thanksgiving morning, or afternoon, for your holiday pleasure, to give the recap of the always fun reunion with rubes from home...

Back my regularly scheduled point...

Chicago is truly the Second City, or actually the third, when it comes to celebrity sightings. Our New York and LA friends see famous people on a daily basis, while a David Schwimmer sighting at Rockit is enough to cream a girl's pants here. John Cusack can be spotted from time to time, with Joan chatting on her U.S. Cellular phone not far behind.

A girl who worked at my Subway saw David from Real World New Orleans and R Kelly in the same day. "Lucky for me I bring my camera to work," she told me.

Meathead Brad from Real World San Diego works out at my gym and myself and/or co-workers have spotted him at lunch downtown twice - at Chipotle and a deli, so I guess stars are just like us, especially when their income derives from eating gross food and hanging from things.

Jen Schefft, the erstwhile Bachelor winner and newest Bachelorette, lives somewhat close by and a guy I know claims to have dated her.

That muscular "woman" who was on two really bad reality shows, Love Cruise and Heartbreak Island or Romance Hotel or something, used to train people at the Multiplex and once made us do shots with her at Hogs and Honeys.

A cab I was in once almost hit Horatio Sanz on Wells, a few blocks from where I saw Jeff Garlin filming some indie movie outside of the original Second City.

We saw Ice Cube downtown during the filming of Barbershop II. And yes, he was wearing a Raiders jersey. I kind of thought that was just for videos and concerts.

Michael Jordan and various other athletes are fairly easy to spot. I saw Moises Alou at Stanley's last Sunday, chatting with the beer tub girls and local yokels.

Quite honestly, none of these sightings excite me. Today, however, I had the ultimate brief celebrity glance. William Gates, from Hoop Dreams. Now this means nothing to most people, but I love Hoop Dreams. I watched it just two nights on cable. My all-time favorite sports movie.

Gates is a real reality star. He didn't get cast because he looked like an Abercrombie model and could drink like Bressler at an open bar. You'll never hear him say things like, "Man I hope I get cast in Battle of the Sexes." (Randy from San Diego was heard issuing this non-sequitor at a Boston gym). Gates' story was real and ugly and beautiful all at the same time, and we got to share in it, the highs and the lows.

Hoop Dreams is about three hours long, but almost impossible to turn off. I knew he lived somewhat close, and still worked in Cabrini as an outreach pastor. He's far from financially successful, he has like 5 or 6 kids with his high school girlfriend whom he married in college, but lives a good, clean life. His friend in the movie Arthur Agee is doing OK too, judging by the reports this year that came on the heels of the movie's 10th anniversary. Neither have accomplished their lofty dreams, but they're much more famous because of the movie, and their impact on society is far greater as well.

I was thinking about him after I saw him walk by. In the movie, not being from Chicago and having no clue of its geography when I saw it, I never would've guess how close Cabrini was to the wealthier parts of the city. I never would've thought, for instance, my friends would be buying apartments nearby, gentrifying the neighborhood.

If you haven't seen it, and I don't know how many people who read this haven't, rent it today, and be thankful (there's the plug) for what you have.

OK, I flew through this one. Time to do some last-minute work before I take off for the Ville...Safe travels to everyone.

TV time

2004-11-18T22:45:00.000-06:00

Match the quote with the show or person...

1. Dick Vitale on ESPN College Basketball
2. HBO's Pornucopia

A. Get your clothes off and get your cock out

B. ...All night long, like the Lionel Richie song. You ever listen to Lionel Richie? I went to his concert before!

C. All she did was suck a dick!

D. Are you serious?! Are you serious?!

E. I never thought I'd win an award for fucking. But it's really exciting!

F. I get a lot of mail from prison and correctional facilities...But I also get mail from Harvard.

1. A., C., E., F.
2. B., D.

Here's one to ponder, which TV station had worse programming at 9 p.m. Thursday, Comcast Sportsnet's old Chicago Blackhawks rerun game or Bravo's poker showdown between Kevin Nealon and Doogie Howser?

Over/under on number of girls who saw the tatooed girl on the OC and said, "Seth Cohen better NOT start dating her. She's so trashy! ...

This is for the hardcore n*ggas...

2004-11-18T10:16:00.000-06:00

...who love them some NBA and some Dikembe Mutumbo. Essentially Johnny, Ben, Rob and 'Stein. So I guess n*ggas should be replaced by "goofy Jews."

Maybe the funniest interview of the year, outside of The Ali G Show.

At the very end of an insidehoops.com interview with Maurice Taylor of the Houston Rockets:

Maurice Taylor: I just always shot. I just always was able to shoot the ball. When I was at University of Michigan, the big guys always shot with the guards. Coach has us shooting a lot. It's just repetition, just getting them up. And it's confidence, too. Because I feel like when I'm open, I'm going to knock them down.

Dikembe Mutombo: (From about eight feet away, speaking directly at Taylor) BRING MY LOTION TO THE BUS!

Maurice Taylor: (Speaking to Mutombo in a high-pitched, mock-outraged tone) Hey man, you take your lotion on the bus. You got your toiletries bag right there! The hell is going on here, Deke?!?

Mutombo looks at Taylor with a wide-eyed combination of amusement and confusion, and says nothing.

InsideHoops.com: (Laughing) Does he often ask you to bring his lotion onto the bus?

Maurice Taylor: Man, Deke will ask you any damn thing. He's by far one of my favorite guys that I've met in the league. I love Deke, I love being around him, on and off the court. He's a funny guy, you know. We have a lot of fun together.

http://insidehoops.com/taylor-interview-111604.shtml

This is what happens...

2004-11-17T13:16:00.000-06:00

...when people stop being polite and stop inviting you to the Real World/Road Rules Challenge/Battle of the Sexes/Race Against Dignity...

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&category=60&item=4051267885&rd=1

(found on defamer.com)

Pretty soon, she's going to be on the side of the highway with a sign, "Will climb rope ladders or eat garbage for food and shots."

Whisper sweet nothings in my ear...

2004-11-17T00:03:00.000-06:00

...or comment on my blog. Either way, I'll get off. I fixed the comment feature so everyone can comment. I have no idea why it would be set for "members only." So let's hear it from the peanut gallery...

Taking them to shul

2004-11-16T22:20:00.000-06:00

Being that is was Tuesday, Rob and I went to the Ida Crown-St. Gregory's girls basketball game in West Rogers Park.

Our co-worker coaches the latter team and Rob and I wanted to support him (and get to a game early in case we don't make another one). St Greg's is mostly Hispanic and black, while Ida Crown is a Jewish private school.

I must mention, Rob is obsessed with Jewish day and high schools, going back to his glory days at Solomon Schechter, when he was considered semi-cool. (Not surprisingly most Schechter grads remember him, but no one at New Trier knew who he was)

The basketball was less than stellar (these girls are in a small school league, the kind that shouldn't be covered by the press), and we could only stay a little over a half. Here's some quick highlights:

Co-worker's hot Latina assistant coach, who's probably about 19. I tried not to stare, but not too hard.

A really cute Orthodox girl, probably about 20, with at least two kids. She could've had three or four, but I didn't check her purse or under her skirt.

One of Co-worker's players, a wing, probably dribbled herself into the right corner at least 10 times in the first half, with every possession ending in a turnover of some sort.

Then with 10 seconds left she's calmly dribbling up the court as the crowd counts down the seconds. With about four seconds left, she understands what we're doing, takes a few quick steps and calmly drops an NBA three. And if you think that was planned, it was only the team's 9th point of the half, so I'm guessing she doesn't end every practice like that.

It didn't take long for some smart-ass to crack, "I mean, I can hit threes, but I need to work on dribbling into a corner, so that's what I was doing..." I didn't catch his name, but he was damn handsome and funny to boot (and single).

OVERHEARD at the game:
"If Shaq shot free throws like that girl, I'd be winning my fantasy league."
Rob (of course), just before said girl bricked one

Closing thought:
Perhaps I shouldn't be so self-deprecating about my romantic and sex life. Today one of my girlfriends seriously suggested I try this site ... http://www.adultfriendfinder.com/go/p80913

Overheard...

2004-11-16T10:23:00.000-06:00

...Funny things I've heard recently. Well, at least they're funny to me.

Rob's answering machine. Sunday morning. From his co-fantasy GM, the estimable Adam Epstein.

(A little back story, first. Epstein is completely insane, but in a good way. And he and Rob are the two biggest fantasy geeks I know. And I'm friends with a lot of geeks. They talk for hours at a time about their team, saying things like, "We're smarter than everyone in our league." Every injury is followed with Rob saying seriously, "This has major fantasy implications."

Epstein actually called me at 11 p.m. Saturday to find out where Rob was (not the first time he's done this either) and if I was near a computer. Rob was at a very close friend's bachelor party and was out of commission until Sunday afternoon.)

So back to the actual message, which is serious as a heart attack. Or a torn patellar tendon to a nickelback, in this case.

EPSTEIN: We’ve got like a thousand dollars at stake and this guy, gets crazy, goes to a bachelor party, apparently, and totally forgets about everything we’ve worked for the entire season. I mean this is unbelievable. This is fucking unbelievable.

We’ve got Seattle playing the Rams. We should probably not play Seattle this week and probably pick up another defense, and I don’t’ have anybody to make a decision with me. And there’s a Lot of stuff to talk about in a short period of time, and you’re fucking MIA. I mean that is unbelievable.

Click.

My apartment. Sunday night.
ROB: I'm going out with this girl. Show Lori her picture (from jdate).
LORI: She's cute. (Pause) Has she seen your picture yet?

Later Lori's talking to a friend, trying to set me up.
LORI: Is he a womanizer? No.
ROB: (to me, with killer Ray Romano-like timing) Only when he doesn't like girls.

Undisclosed location. A different friend's date. Monday evening.
(Back story. Every (Jewish) girl in Chicago is either a teacher, or in PR or Marketing. Or if they went to Arizona, in retail. I have the highest respect for teachers, because G-d knows I can't be "on" all day, but let's face it no one wants to hear about their stories all the time, especially if there's no sex involved.)
GIRL: Everyone wants to hear about my job, because everyone went to school. So they can relate.
FRIEND: (completely disinterested) Yeah, yeah...

Jay's on Erie. I just left with two girls to go to Coyote Ugly.
GIRL NAMED JEN: Yeah, that other girl loves Coyote Ugly.
JOHNNY: Why?
GNJ: Because she likes to dance on bars and throw her bra at people.

YAHOO! HEADLINE OF THE DAY: One person stabbed at Vibe Awards taping
Just one? Two people usually get stabbed just talking about The Source awards.

Dear Lord...

2004-11-15T22:47:00.000-06:00

...My faith in you was renewed when the Red Sox beat the Yankees. It faltered when Bush won. Again. But then, as Harry said to Lloyd in Dumb and Dumber, you do something like this and totally redeem yourself!

This:
http://www.big-boys.com/articles/lboob.html

Our motto is...

2004-11-15T21:07:00.000-06:00

Now that my readership has reached double digits, just shy of my sexual partners totals (OK, girls I've kissed total...OK, girls I've thought about kissing totals), I figured Garden Apartment needed a new motto. Here's some choices, feel free to vote amongst yourselves.

GARDEN APARTMENT: It's better than work.

GARDEN APARTMENT: Like sniffing glue...for your soul

GARDEN APARTMENT: Hey, Peska likes it

GARDEN APARTMENT: Who's Peska?

GARDEN APARTMENT: Kind of like the Drudge Report, with a smidgen more Bressler highlights

GARDEN APARTMENT: Not like those blogs you hear about on TV. No, this one's useless.

GARDEN APARTMENT: We believe moral values equate to remembering her name the next morning

GARDEN APARTMENT: I live in a basement

In a blue state (update!)

2004-11-15T00:54:00.000-06:00

(An aside, or simply an update, I can't create links from my computer at work. It's a shoddy iMac. The links/editing feature for this site doesn't even show up. So I'll try harder to fix them on my laptop so my equally lazy readers don't have to cut and paste. I know it bothers all five of you. Carry on.)

Great column by Frank Rich in the NY Times on Sunday. But I've never heard of this red state-blue state thing? Is this new?

http://www.nytimes.com/2004/11/14/arts/14rich.html?8hpib

I loved this graph. Tom Coburn is the new "morally strong" Oklahoma senator who said that lesbianism is so rife in local schools that girls can only go to the bathroom one at a time. Where is this school and when can I join the faculty?

"But the distance between this hard-core red culture and the majority blue culture is perhaps best captured by Tom Coburn, the newly elected Republican senator from Oklahoma, lately famous for discovering "rampant" lesbianism in that state's schools. As a congressman in 1997, Mr. Coburn attacked NBC for encouraging "irresponsible sexual behavior" and taking "network TV to an all-time low with full frontal nudity, violence and profanity being shown in our homes." The broadcast that prompted his outrage on behalf of "parents and decent-minded individuals everywhere" was the network's prime-time showing of Steven Spielberg's "Schindler's List." "

Another link, though to a site slightly less austere than the Times, http://www.jasminrosemberg.com, found through the magic of friendster.

Pretty good writer, though I'm guessing, just guessing, she's been slightly influenced by Sex and the City. I don't know why. Read her upcoming projects link. Very impressive to be writing a book at 24, though the subject matter just might have been covered before (missing sarcasm font here). Then again, I'm still working on that TV pilot about the sassy robot, so what do I know?

Ms. Rosemberg (I love the m taking the n's place. This is like a girl renaming herself Sharyn or Katerzyna) did a somewhat interesting diary for the NY Post about living in a shared house in the Hamptons (p.s. I lived in a basement apartment this summer. my journal is actually going straight to the cinema). I'm sure it was well-read by her core demographic of 20-something girls working in PR.

Really funny line here, basically encapsulates every Jewish girl in Chicago, and I'm guessing NYC.

"Sitting and scrutinizing the other females, Jessica and Karen were the girls wearing identical Seven jeans, Gucci purses and scowls."

I could link the excellent Thomas Friedman and Maureen Dowd columns from Sunday, but I'm sure you guys can do the leg work if you want to read it. That's right, I'm the laziest blogger ...

On a personal side, I broke through this Saturday with not one, but two threesomes. Yes, the first occurred around 2 a.m., when I got in a cab with two girls and one said, "three stops." The fun continued when three friends called me from New York a few minutes later, so technically, that was a four-way.

So there you go. Garden Apartment, a one-stop shop for Frank Rich, Jasmin Rosemberg and self-deprecation.

This just in...

2004-11-11T12:07:00.000-06:00

... The United States has narrowed its search for a US emissary to Arafat's funeral to two men.

In the Bush administration's finest moment, they've chosen Garden Apartment to pick. So I opened up my palm pilot, or iPod, got the numbers and called 'em up for an interview and asked what they'd say at the ceremony.

Here's Alan Keyes' prospective speech:

"Well, I'm glad to be here. By G-d's grace, we are in Egypt to eulogize Yasser Arafat. But first let me talk about the biggest obstacle the Palestinians have in their way to eternal freedom, abortion. If they want Jesus as their lord and savior, they have to realize that abortion is murder. Also, income tax is slavery. What they have no income? ... You know what I like it so much here in the Middle East, I think I might stay. Maybe I'll run for Prime Minister of the Palestinian Authority. Jesus wouldn't vote for Abu Mazen. Call me Abu Crazypants..."

And now, Chicago mayor Richard Daley:

"What's the hold-up here? Let's get this show on this road! Hey, youse guys want to invest in my casino? Why not?"

Also Garden Apartment came into some tapes of French "leader" Jacques Chirac and his "dear friend" Arafat. Another coup for the bloggers!

CHIRAC: So the Jews...what do you think about their
horns?

ARAFAT: Well, they are easy to aim at when I shoot at
them. Especially the children.

CHIRAC: More brie?

ARAFAT: Please.

Arafat: Murderer or just murderous thug?

2004-11-11T11:30:00.000-06:00

I can honestly say I've never been this happy to see someone die. Yasser Arafat was a murderous thug (answering my own question) who mis-represented a "nation" of people.

Some point to his legacy as being the leader of a lost group of people, the Palestinians, who gave them hope and a sense of national pride after being displaced geographically and ignored and bullied by their own Arab "brothers."

As Bill Murray would say, He's got that going for him, which is nice.

Truth be told Arafat went from worldwide terrorist to would-be statesman to international joke. He spent the last few years of his life trapped in his Ramallah compound, a prisoner of the Israelis and of his own ineptitude.

It is unknown if peace would have flourished had he accepted Ehud Barak's generous offer in 2000. It is unknown whether the Knesset and the Israeli voters would have even recognized that deal. What is known is that Arafat didn't want peace, not on anyone's terms but his own.

He wasn't brave enough to be a real leader. He was a figurehead leader, good enough to make speeches and flash a dirty smile and inspire scores of Palestinians to blow themselves up for their cause.

His Nobel Prize was a ghastly abberation. Had he actually been honest in 1993 and truly wanted peace and given everything to obtain, then sure some reward and additional accolades would have been forthcoming. But it was all a lie. He didn't want peace with Israelis.

How could he have sold that to his people when he fed his reputation on a steady diet of Jew-hating and homicide on a national scale.

It is good he died on his own terms and not by an Israeli bomb. No need to martyr-ize him further.

Now the hard part begins. Will the Palestinian Authority take control of their fragmented populace? Can they? Will the Israelis be able to bring forth proper negotiations, for they must be held to a much higher standard than their disorganized peers in the PA?

Arafat's death could be the only noble deed he's done for his people, as now, perhaps, they will have a chance for a normal life.

Read Hugh Delios' obit in the Trib, good take. Very even handed. And here's a good column from the Boston Globe:

www.boston.com/news/globe/editorial_opinion/oped/articles/2004/11/11/arafat_the_monster/

He's a funny guy!

2004-11-10T10:06:00.000-06:00

What can I say, I have funny friends...

"The Store? Isn't that for Beaumont rejects?"
Eli to Jodi, minutes after she whispered to me, "I don't like your friend."
(For non-Chicagoans, Beaumont's is a cheesy, after-hours dance club. The Store, where Jodi recommended going, is a small after-hours bar nearby. They both suck. All the bars and all the parties, they all suck. I spend half my time talking to some girl that's looking around the room for someone better she should be talking to, and I'm supposed to be excited because she's wearing a backpack.)

"I didn't think that Subliminal guy was Jewish."
Rob after watching a documentary on Israeli rap group Subliminal. The guy in question wore a fist-sized star of David around his neck, referred to himself as the Light of Zion and was seen, not once but twice, hanging Israeli flags outside of his house.

"Listen Crowley, I'm sick of you not knowing who I am. You had sex in my bed!"
"I know who you are and I never had sex in your bed."
"Yes you did!"
Farbman to Crowley at my birthday party. Crowley has trouble remembering names, and sometimes faces and past events. And yes he did.

"I figured it is a good flick to take a girl. lots of muff. s*xually explicit."
Quote from Johnny, via e-mail, completely out of context, yet speaks for itself. And yes ladies, I don't know how he's still single.

The Truf

2004-11-09T12:32:00.000-06:00

While I complain (and whine) often about not getting "any" (any being defined as: ass, play, foreplay, sex, affection, necking, heavy petting, light petting, or touching of any kind), I must disclose something I've hid from even my closest friends.

This drought, this famine, this plague on my promiscuity, is actually planned as I decided to recover my virginity lost lo those many years ago as a fresh-faced 18-year-old in Steubenville, Ohio.

I want to experience it all again with fresh eyes. I want to be touched for the very first time, like a virgin some would say.

So I've covered my tracks my constant complaining and poor game. I mean, I'm surprised everyone believed it. C'mon, going out on Halloween and not even talking to girls, with my ex-girlfriend not 40 feet away. I'm a good actor, like the Dave Coulier of 327 Armitage.

But now at 26, I think it's time to lose my virginity (for the 15th time). So I'm out there ladies, ready and willing for some NSA (or SA) fun...

...Wait a sec, this isn't Craigslist.

Ah fuck.

Broken Promises and parve hors d'ouvres

2004-11-04T17:34:00.000-06:00

I hit the Israel Jewish Film Festival last night - What didn't you? - as an escort for my friend John Shear. He bought two tickets to the "gala opening" to be used as a nice, and expensive, date with a girl he had recently been seeing. Unfortunately his last contact with her went like this:

JOHN: So I'll call you next week.
GIRL: No, that's OK. Don't worry about it.

So that's how I came about a free, overpriced ticket to the Israel Film Fest.

Some highlights from the night:

Sitting alone in his seat before the movie began, Johnny was tapped on his back by a girl roughly our age.

"Are you Israeli or just a patron of the arts?" she asked.

Now there's a question you don't hear often at the cinema.

Before the movie began (we'll get to the movie in a sec), we were all instructed to rise for the playing of the national anthem and Hatikvah, the Israeli national anthem. Puzzled, we stood up and some woman sang the finest rendition of the Star Spangled Banner that Theater 5 has ever heard. During the national anthem, John's phone buzzed in his fashionable jeans.

I told him to pick up and say, "Hey Miller, I can't talk. I'm in the theater and they're playing the national anthem. Let me call you back after Hatikvah." Miller, if you know him, would have set a new level for confusion.

The movie, Turn Left at the End of the World (a catchy title, for sure), is about a small desert town in Israel and the assimilation of Moroccan and Indian Jews. While they were falsely promised good jobs and a new life in bustling Israeli cities, I was falsely promised hot lesbian action. We were both disappointed.

As a whole though the movie was good, though Tribune film critic Michael Wilmington said he wanted to see more bush.

OK, that's a blatant lie. He never said that. But that's what we wanted to see and we hoped he felt the same way. But since he's presumably older than 15, I'm sure he's not going to write that in his review.

Wilmington was there to receive a liftetime achievement award from the festival. This honor apparently goes to every film critic in the city. Next year I believe Johnny wins it because he's gone to this festival for five straight years.

There was significant nudity though, which made the all 65 and over crowd even more peculiar. I guess they were Israelis...or patrons of the arts.

Seinfeld note: Former ABC Entertainment TV Group Chair LLOYD BRAUN has been named head of Yahoo’s entertainment & media division. Yes, that Lloyd Braun. If you watch the credits, many of the characters on Seinfeld were named after writers and assorted Hollywood people. Alec Berg was a big writer on the show. He has a great John Houseman name.

Rock the vote

2004-11-04T00:07:00.000-06:00

One day later, I still blame Puffy.

Well, at least we're safe...

2004-11-03T15:59:00.000-06:00

... Exit polling showed 76 pct of Bush voters were scared Dick Cheney would bomb their houses if Kerry won. (As I was writing this, we had a building evacuation test, which made us wonder if Cheney and Rumsfeld just said "Fuck it, let's kill 'em all and let Bush's G-d sort 'em out.")

I had a seat at the edge of the apocalypse last night next to a screaming, bespectacled Democrat (my roommate Rob) who was waving maniacally and snapping his large hands at the footage of voters in Cleveland, while urging them on by yelling, "C'mon!" He has a similar routine for Cubs games.

Unfortunately both Kerry and the Cubs were undone this year, victims of poor management and a lack of a cohesive plan to win. While the Cubs couldn't move runners over, Kerry couldn't appeal to common voters.

It wasn't a good year for Rob, who also got fired from his job for failing to cure muscular dystrophy. Or something like that.

He almost didn't have the energy today to eat a large sandwich for lunch and wash it down with a 48 ounce jamba juice. This after eating $14 worth of Chipotle last evening and possibly 2 pounds of sturgeon this morning.

I for one have given up my political activism and am now living solely on the words of American philosopher Rasheed Wallace. I don't worry anymore about the fate of our country because I am just KIM (Keepin' It Movin'). And as long as someone's CTC (Cuttin' the Check), it's all gravy.

Anyway, if you're still upset about Kerry's loss, or you're gay and always dreamed of getting married in Oklahoma and see no reason to live here otherwise, check this out:
http://www.harpers.org/

Meanwhile, I'm stocking up on canned goods and erasing all anti-Bush writing here, as from what I've heard, Bush's G-d is a vengeful one.

Final Word

2004-11-01T23:21:00.000-06:00

Well, today's the day. Yes, the day we at Team Marketing Report put

out our annual NBA Fan Cost Index.

And oh yeah, that election that may decide the fate of the free world.



This is also the day we Illinoisians (is that a word?) vote Alan Keyes into the Senate.



I know Keyes is not a popular choice, but I mean who else would Jesus vote for

if he lived in a garden apartment in Chicago?



And who's this Obama guy they keep talking about?

Sounds like a terrorist to me.

That should've been Keyes' campaign slogan:

Barack Obama. Sounds like a terrorist to me.

Vote Alan Keyes. He sounds American.



I won't ramble on about my choice for President (Ben

Roethlisberger) and my vision of the future of this

country (Steelers' Super Bowl titles for all, Pirates'

World Series championships for some), but instead pass

along these words from Wonkette's Ana Marie Cox:



I was all set to vote for George Bush even after

finding out that he wouldn't let me marry Mary Cheney

if I wanted to. And when he made the pronunciation of

"Lambeau Field" a campaign issue? It seemed fair.

After all, he's proved that not knowing the names of

foreign leaders is much less important than correctly

pronouncing the homes of popular sports teams. Of

course, he totally sold me with the debates: any man

who explains a mystery bulge as bad tailoring is more

than confident enough to take on the Euroweenies. But

in the end, with the fate of the free world at stake

and all, I've got to go with the guy who would admit

that sending thousands of American soldiers and Iraqi

civilians to their deaths to protect us from imaginary

weapons was, in fact, a mistake.

Oh that Slick Willie...

2004-10-27T22:53:00.001-05:00

No one works a temple like Clinton...

Clinton: Kerry's Commitment to Israel Unshakable

"We'll start with the obvious," Mr. Clinton, wearing a white yarmulke with blue trim, told more than 1,000 people at Temple B'nai Torah in Boca Raton.

"What does it mean for U.S.-Israeli relations if John Kerry becomes the president of the United States?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that the security of Israel---including its qualitative military superiority---would be unshaken if Kerry were president. You can rely on it, you can take it to the bank," Clinton assured the crowd, sparking a burst of appreciative applause.

Flanked by rabbis, Clinton applauded Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon's controversial plan to pull out troops and the 8,000 settlers out of the Gaza strip next year. Israel's parliament approved the plan on Tuesday.

Clinton was introduced to the crowd by Cameron Kerry, a brother of the Democratic candidate, who has converted from Catholicism to Judaism.

"President Clinton shares the love of Israel with John," said Cameron Kerry.

He said John Kerry recognized that Israel is "our most steadfast ally. On this he will never waver."

Clinton joined a star-studded cast of Democrats at the synagogue. From Florida: U.S. Sen. Bob Graham, U.S. Reps. Alcee Hastings and Robert Wexler, and several state senators and representatives. From around the country: U.S. Sen. Frank Lautenberg of New Jersey, U.S. Reps. Gary Ackerman and Eliot Engel of New York, Howard Berman and Henry Waxman of California and Ben Cardin of Maryland.

"All my old pals are out here," Clinton observed.

Several Jewish Democratic leaders — among them Seinfeld creator Larry David and Harvard Professor Alan Dershowitz — stopped for the speech during a bus tour of South Florida. Earlier in the day they ate scrambled eggs, French toast and pancakes at Poppies Deli in Delray Beach. Everyone except David, who said he instead chewed gum because he "can't eat that kind of food!"

"There is nobody who has been better. There's been equals, but nobody has ever been better than John Kerry for Israel," said U.S. Rep. Gary Ackerman, a New York Democrat, who was on the bus tour.

"It (Clinton's speech) reinforced my belief that John Kerry will be extremely supportive of Israel. I think I made my decision as to who I will vote for as of today," said Brad Cohen, 51, of Delray Beach.

***Excerpts above. Full stories available at: http://www.nytimes.com/2004/10/27/politics/campaign/27clinton.html; http://www.miami.com/mld/miamiherald/10023142.htm

http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?pagename=JPost/JPArticle/ShowFull&cid=1098771481602; http://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/local/palmbeach/orl-asecclinton27102704oct27,0,7681684.story?coll=sfla-news-palm; http://www.nydailynews.com/news/politics/story/246610p-211278c.html

Observations from Armageddon

2004-10-27T22:53:00.000-05:00

ST. LOUIS - I'm typing from the press box at the edge of oblivion. Busch Stadium, quieted by the Boston Red Sox's historic World Series victory...OK, that's a lie. I'm on my couch. I actually watched a girls' volleyball game in Wheeling, IL, which is, in actuality, just west of oblivion.

Tonight's win though, was "unbelievable," an adjective used most prominently by each and every baseball player from the Dominican Republic (it's actually the first English word they learn, and sometimes the last) and Rob Bressler.

Fox's broadcast was borderline hilarious. First, there were the announcers, Joe Buck and Tim McCarver, the Cardinals' announcer and legendary All-Star catcher. Me and the Big Cat half expected Jack Clark to be the dugout reporter and Whitey Herzog to be the home plate umpire.

Then there were Chris Myers' inane seat-side interviews. The Sox had two on and one out early in yesterday's game, ready to break it open and he's talking to Larry Walker's idiot snowback relatives.

"This game's pretty good, eh. But we'd rather be ice fishing listening to the Leafs game. C'mon Larry, score a goal!"

Today Myers bypassed all the lifelong fans and talked to a 12-year kid who got tickets to the game probably because his grandpa is the head of Fox.

The game was perfectly capped off by Manny Ramirez's MVP speech. Now most players would offer the cliched and humble, "This isn't my award, it belongs to the team" speech. Manny, being Manny, went the other way and not only talked just about himself, but twice brought up the fact they wanted to trade him before the season.

Jeanne Zelasko: What do you want to say to the fans in Boston who've waited 86 years for this?
Manny: You wanted Alex (Rodriguez) but I'm still here and I like Boston, and why is everyone celebrating? When's our next game? Where's Enrique? What city is this?

Well, Rob just came back with his celebratory White Hen egg salad sandwich, which is always healthy at 11 at night, so I'm logging off. And if you want a chuckle, remind Rob that the Cubs could've won it this year.

Not to be a ghoul (even though it's almost Halloween) this story, should it develop as we all hope it does, goes well along with the Red Sox win, because neither seemed like it would ever happen.
http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/ap/20041028/ap_on_re_mi_ea/arafat_s_health&cid=540&ncid=716

The new Scientology

2004-10-25T15:30:00.000-05:00

A NY Post writer infiltrates L.A.'s foremost Kabbalah Center. Hilarity ensues.

And I'd like to point out that Garden Apartment fashion correspondent John Shear has been wearing a red string on his wrist since 1998, unlike the Olsen twins and Britney Spears' older brother's assistant's girlfriend.

http://www.nypost.com/news/nationalnews/32576.htm

The dish from Dersh

2004-10-24T23:46:00.000-05:00

This one goes out to you Johnny…
A Message to the American Jewish Community from Professor Alan Dershowitz:
There are American Jews who have said recently that although they support John Kerry's positions on every major domestic issue - - from the Supreme Court to women's rights to gay rights - - they plan to vote for President Bush because they believe Bush would be better for Israel.
Respectfully, I believe they are wrong for two reasons.
First, I know personally how strongly John Kerry feels about a safe and secure Israel. I remember vividly when John went to Israel with our dear mutual friend, the late Lenny Zakim, the New England director of the ADL. On his return, that's all John could talk about - - his admiration for Israel's combination of strength and determination to make peace. He has a perfect pro-Israel voting record in the Senate and I have no doubt that, as president, John Kerry’s unwavering commitment to Israel will continue.
President Bush, though well intentioned on Israel, has hurt the Jewish nation's position in the world. The actions of the United States in Iraq, especially since President Bush prematurely declared “mission accomplished”, have been disastrous for Israel. The failures in Iraq have weakened the influence of the United States in the Middle East and have made it much more difficult for us to thwart Iran's determination to develop nuclear weapons aimed at Israeli population centers. The Iranian mullahs know that Americans could not stomach another military action in Iran while the occupation of Iraq continues. This reality, confirmed by President Bush during the first debate, has emboldened them to speed up their nuclear program - - a program that poses the greatest existential threat to Israel, the Jewish people and ultimately America, since an Iranian nuclear program could result in terrorists with dirty bombs. The current Bush policy with regard to Iraq has weakened America's war against terror by diverting military and other resources to a quagmire that is only getting worse.
The second reason is that pro-Israel votes should not turn an American presidential election into a referendum on Israel. Our goal must be to keep support for Israel a bipartisan issue - - and in this we have succeeded. Pro-Israel voters are free in this election to vote based on other important issues, such as women's rights, separation of church and state and the Supreme Court.
These issues actually coalesce in practice. If President Bush is reelected, he will have as many as four Supreme Court vacancies in his first year: and he has told us exactly who he intends to fill them with: clones of his two favorite justices - - Scalia and Thomas. A Bush Supreme Court will put at risk a woman's right to choose abortion. Equally important it will lower the wall of separation between church and state and increase the power of the religious right. Although the religious right has been very supportive of Israel - - especially in comparison with the Presbyterian and Episcopal branches of Protestantism - - their agenda for the American future poses considerable danger to the Jewish future in America.
They envision a Christian state with Christian schools and a Christian Supreme court. Listen to the Texas Republican Party platform which “affirms that the United States is a Christian naton” and refers to the “myth of the separation of church and state.” Listen to Lou Sheldon, the founder of the “Traditional Values Coalition”: “We were here first….We are the keepers of what is right and what is wrong.”
And listen to Ralph Reed, the director of the Christian Coalition: What Christians have to do is to take back the country….I honestly believe that in my lifetime we will see a country once again governed by Christians…and Christian values.”
And to Jerry Falwell: I hope to see the day when as in the early days of our country, we won't have any public schools. The churches will have taken them over again and Christians will be running them….We must never allow our children to forget that this is a Christian nation. We must take back what is rightfully ours.” And to Pat Robertson: The Constitution of the United States…is a marvelous document for self-government by Christian people. But the minute you turn the document into the hands of non-Christian people and atheist people, they can use it to destroy the very foundation of our society. And that's what's been happening ….If Christian people work together, they can succeed…in winning back control of the institutions that have been taken from them over the past 70 years.” The Bush Administration supports the lowering of the wall of separation. Its prayer breakfasts, its faith-based programs, its Ashcroft Justice Department, and its evangelical rhetoric are all music to the ears of the proselytizing Religious Right. Remember President Bush's inauguration, which was dedicated to “our savior Jesus Christ” and seemed more like a Christian prayer service than a national civic event?

A Kerry-Edwards Administration would keep the wall high. Senator Edwards has warned that “faith should not be used to divide us.” Jews especially have an important stake in the separation of church and state. We are first class citizens of this great nation precisely because no religious tests may be required for holding office and because the state may not favor one religion over another or religion over non-religion. We must preserve that neutrality for the good of America, the good of Jews and the good of the world.

2004-10-24T22:14:00.000-05:00

What do I have to do to get a girlfriend?

It sounds like something guys, especially habitually single guys like me, would say. Maybe the pathetic ones anyway.

Of course, most guys would never say that out loud, even if they think it. What we actually say is: What do I have to do to get some ass?

Ass, or sex for my foreign readers unfamiliar with my vernacular, of course, is the main reason to get and keep a girlfriend, along with, uh, affection and all that stuff.

Being that I'm two weeks away from 26 and am now just one of a handful of single guys I'm friends with, of course I'm forced to confront my single-dom in a different way than just a lack of ass.

If I don't get something going soon, I'll be the old guy at the bar. I'll have to start wearing mock turtlenecks and saying things like, "Man when I was in my 20s, girls didn't dress like this. I wish they'd play some James Taylor in here..." I'll have to go on Jdate and date dumb 20-somethings who just want a good meal and membership to East Bank Club (which of course I probably won't be able to provide or pay for, but I'm imagining I'll somehow become financially successful in the next few years).

Since I haven't met anyone worthwhile, or remotely interested in me, in months, I go out with no plan and no confidence. When I walk in a bar lately, I feel like my younger brother when he walked into his math placement test at Arizona, out of my element and completely unprepared.

Not that I'm in Jdate mode yet, although my only romantic options lately are Internet-related, a kooky Romanian girl that e-mailed me from Friendster, and of course, the hordes of gay men who responded to our craigslist posting (see below).

So how does one get a girlfriend nowadays, without cruising the Internet to talk to hot chicks like Kip Dynamite or Adam Miller?

Well, Johnny heard a doozy this weekend. Some guy landed this girl Johnny went out with a few months ago by starting a charity for her to run. You read that right, this guy started a fucking charity. For her.

How do you top that? We tell ourselves this guy must be a real loser. Fat, ugly, odorous, a real triple threat.

This guy, who must've been single for quite some time to go to these lengths, has raised the bar for all of us singles. I'm a helluva writer of girlfriendy notes and I can whip out frothy e-mails and IMs that can endear me to anyone, but at this rate I'm going to have skip the blog and write the Great American Novel for some girl. And that's just to get consistent ass.

Well, this weekend is Halloween, so maybe I'll dress as a guy ready to make his move and get his romantic life in order.

Or maybe I'll go as Borat, an anti-Semitic pervert.

Mr Quotacious

2004-10-21T10:57:00.000-05:00

Alan Kirsch was a girls basketball coach during my time in Yuma. He eventually quit, before he was fired, and I ripped him in a mean-spirited, but funny, column, that was completely unnecessary given the context of his job.

Here's the sad, awful update, including his bizarre middle name: http://yumasun.com/artman/publish/articles/story_13836.shtml

Some parents applauded, some called me a jerk. But one called and said I didn't rip him enough, speaking of inappropriate contact he had with students in public (he said the word "cock block" to one of his players) and online.

Here's the column: http://yumasun.com/cgi-bin/artman/exec/view.cgi?archive=2&num=4033

Keeping it Casual

2004-10-21T10:35:00.000-05:00

It's no secret I love perusing the casual encounters section of Craigslist. Often times, during work hours, I find myself tempted to answer an ad. Then a voice tells me, "They're all gay men posing as randy women, you idiot." Then I hear the voice of Johnny Shear, who tells me "Do it, do it!"

Sometimes his voice is too loud. Like when he's sitting next to me and we're on the computer in my living room, watching the Red Sox cruise to the World Series.

With a 6-0 Sox lead in front of us, and a 10 cent poker game to our right, our thoughts turned to Craigslist and we posted this ad:

Well hung Jewish men - mm4ww - 25 (LP)

We've got about 48 inches of hard kosher beef over here, between the 8 of us. It's our fantasy to watch the Red Sox go to the World Series while a girl, or girls, takes turns with us. We're all good looking, successful with plenty of cash...

E-mail soon, it's already the bottom of the third.

Obviously, this would attract some hot nymphos. I think our replies verify my original claims: Yes, people answer these ads, and they're all gay men. Here's what I've got so far:

hey guys,

i have a weird fantasy. id like to come over and suck all of you off,
or have you all take turns fucking my face.

if any of you have ever wanted to use a guys mouth, take turns fucking a mouth,
or jerk off and finishing in my mouth? ....well this can be your secret opportunity.
Im looking to take on a group of guys, and totally submit to them, providing all
the pleasure you can take from a masculine, white guy's mouth

maybe even a circle jerk ending in my mouth.

ive never done anything like this, but am very open to any suggestions.
im a 29yo 5'11" 170 very masculine athletic white guy with gf.
totally safe and discreet only. no one ever has to know.

let me know what you think.
...
Of course, he's never done anything like this before. And he's straight. Because most straight guys want to be a cum dumpster for a group of well-hung Jewish men.

Here's the rest:

from JohnDoes (I wonder if that's John Doe or John Does a group of men): Hey..whatsup? discreet masculine bi...still looking? would like to service you guys

Again, not a girl. I guess we weren't clear enough....

From GreatHeadInChgo(I hope that's not his work account!): 24 male & I oves jews------hairy n full of cum, Woof! I can service all you boys. Game?

From cubbyfan101: i'm interested. you boys have pics? stats?

Mark at freakcreap.com: I might be able to work that out with my gf, she could take a good gang
bang, what are you offering? She is 49, but one hell of a fuck...

He includes a pic, which I can forward. It's pretty odd...

So, here's my lesson of the day: If you're looking to gang bang a dude with a girlfriend, go to craigslist. If you're looking to take a girl on an expensive date that possibly leads to an awkward hand job, go to jdate.

Return of the Blog

2004-10-21T09:44:00.000-05:00

So I've been a little complacent with updating the blog (which isn't totally true, most of what I do is conceptual, it's all up here...).

Initially I was planning on writing a recap of my trip home for a friend's wedding, but since it's Thursday, it seems a little moot. Though I will give a few notes:

The reception, an I-talian affair, had a traveling accordion player. My friend Chris recommended he play Hava Nagilah, much to the delight of my friends who began clapping and asked if they could start lifting me in a chair. Somewhere in Lincoln Park, Seth Vilensky's ears perked up.

My parents have commandered all of my deceased grandpa's furniture as they prepare to sell his house. Unfortunately for my mom, my crazy step-dad organized the furniture while she was at work, turning our modest house into a haphazard, Judaic version of Sanford and Son.

Because the ceremony was 30 min away from Steubenville, I didn't want to get two nights at the hotel in Wheeling, but I wanted to stay there after the wedding. I put my stuff in the room of my married friends, Martha and John, but then word filtered back that our other friend Sarah ended up gettting two beds in her room (for one reason or another, she refused to share a king bed with me, possibly because I'm a sexual deviant). Interestingly enough John wanted me to still stay in his room, while Martha all but packed my bags. In the end, I stayed with them, ruining their wild sex romp in the hills of West Virginia.

I scheduled a late flight home so I could watch the Steelers game, not knowing it started at 4:15. So I watched the first half at restaurant with my parents and the second at the Pittsburgh Airport. Only in Pittsburgh would you find people who know they have to travel that day still wearing their Stillers jerseys. At the check-in counter I was a hot girl wearing a Ben Roethlisberger jersey. In the bars I saw scores of guys wearing jersey-hat combos.

I didn't know people like that ever left Pittsburgh.

The debate was on, but I didn't hear a word.

2004-10-14T11:24:00.000-05:00

I agreed to play nickel and dime poker at a friend's last night after dodging these games for a month. Good times, I won $10, but we were forced to watch the debate during the game by a shabbily dressed man who shall be known as...Rob Bressler. Not only did this rachet the fun quotient down about, say, 10 notches, but I don't think we listened for more than 2 minutes aggregate. If two debates and a year's worth of campaigning hasn't helped you make up your mind, then you should limit your voting to American Idol or TRL.

"It's history!" Rob said as we drove to Izzy's place.

Historically, the most boring, meaningless, meandering debate...this year. Here's a pretty reliable recap, especially the closing statements, which we didn't watch after we banished Rob to the bedroom, so we could watch the game.

http://www.wonkette.com/archives/ok-for-the-last-time-sortof-basically-live-blogging-023356.php

Jonny Moseley, shouldn't you be competing in something?

2004-10-11T21:14:00.000-05:00

I just stumbled onto the new Battle of the Sexes. I didn't even know it was on yet. What a pleasant surprise.

I don't know what was just funnier, the fact that a 40-year-old Eric Nies said he was worried about Derrick's, the new Road Rules guy, drinking . Not because he's an alcoholic, but because "if he's up drinking all night he won't be able to perform his best in the mission."

Derrick then lamented, "I'm on my own here. I'm a rebel."

That dumb Louisiana guy (I don't know why I can't remember his name since I've seen more of him than some of my closest friends in the past few years) just said, "He's a contraption waiting to happen."

I couldn't put it better myself.

Surprisingly Coral and Veronica are available for this one. As are the Miz, Abe and of course Eric.

Wow.

Back to School...

2004-10-11T11:40:00.000-05:00

http://www.thepost.ohiou.edu/oped.php

This is a funny link for two reasons. One, a good editorial cartoon on Cheney. Two, the correction at the bottom of the page...

Best (half) Paragraph Ever

2004-10-11T11:09:00.000-05:00

Excerpted from a paragraph in the Red Sox clincher story in today's Chicago Tribune:

(Pedro) Martinez, wearing swimming goggles and a bucket on his head, handed a bottle of beer to Nelson de la Rosa, a 28-inch-tall dwarf Martinez has adopted as his good-luck charm and cheered him on as he chugged it.

Now there's an image...

I heart recommendations

2004-10-10T23:10:00.000-05:00

I like recommending things I like to the people I like for two reasons: One, I like to spread to joy. Two, I like the feeling I get when people like something I like, or when they discover something they like because I introduced them to it. I'm just that insecure.
On that note, I recommend Chuck Klosterman's Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs, an insightful, engrossing and thoroughly detailed look at pop culture and its role in society. Basically it's 240 pages about Saved by the Bell, cock rock and the Real World.
And I Heart Huckabees, which I just saw Sunday night. It's hilarious and extremely interesting.

It definitely made me think about my own life, kind of like those "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff" books, except it's made for smart people.

Great acting by the entire cast, from Marky Mark to Naomi Watts to, of course, Dustin Hoffman. Hopefully your crowd will clap and cheer like mine did. And I was at intellectual art theater Piper's Alley, not 95th and Harlem.

Marathon Man

2004-10-10T22:50:00.000-05:00

I had to cover the Chicago Marathon on Sunday (read about it on dailyherald.com). Now I'm not a marathon type of guy, we all know this.

Twenty six miles? I got shin splints jogging to the media center at the Hilton downtown.

I was only jogging because I was running behind. (Let's just say I woke up around the time it started). I planned on being late (unlike a long baseball game, this actually was a marathon.), but I was even more behind because I actually thought it started at 8:30 am, when it started a half-hour earlier. Now if I was in charge, it probably would've started around 11:30, but again, that's why I'm not a marathon type of guy.

Except in bed. If you catch my drift ladies, wink, wink.

Onto the links...

I can't believe they didn't interview Veronica for this story. Of course it's probably tough to interview her. She's probably climbing a rope ladder on an island somewhere...

http://www.nytimes.com/2004/10/10/arts/television/10aurt.html

Why are these links so long?
http://www.nytimes.com/2004/10/10/opinion/10dowd.html?n=Top%2fOpinion%2fEditorials%20and%20Op%2dEd%2fOp%2dEd%2fColumnists

This is how I spend my weekends. Yes, it's a glamourous life I lead.
http://www.dailyherald.com/prepsports/prep_story.asp?intID=3827063

I consider myself a sports fan, but I had no idea Chris Mihm plays for the Lakers. Just like most people don't know who Chris Mihm is.
http://www.latimes.com/sports/la-sp-lakerep11oct11,1,5823451.story?coll=la-headlines-sports

Now that's a blog...

2004-10-08T15:02:00.000-05:00

This guy "outs" A-Rod as a swinger! Man, I need to start slinging some mud on this bad boy.

http://www.richiewhitt.com/_wsn/page3.html

My suggestion to A-Rod would be: don't sue. Nothing hurts like a well-timed zinger. Like so:

GEORGE: I got another meeting with Reilly. A whole new audience, and I bet I can get him to try that line again.

ELAINE: Who's Reilly?

JERRY: George was scarfing shrimp at this meeting, and this guy says 'Hey, George, the ocean called. They're running outta shrimp.'

(Elaine laughs, loud and long, causing Jerry and Kramer to smile and laugh.)

GEORGE: Listen to the comeback. (pleased) 'Oh yeah? Well the jerk store called. They're running outta you.'

(George smiles and looks expectant. The other three just stare at him, with varying levels of confusion in their expressions.)

GEORGE: (worked up) Wha...You gotta be kidding me?!

ELAINE: How 'bout this one? How 'bout, 'Your cranium called. It's got some space to rent.'?

(Elaine laughs, and Jerry smiles.)

GEORGE: (confused) What does that mean?

JERRY: (taps George's chest) Hey, here you go. 'Hey, Reilly. The zoo called. You're due back by six.'

GEORGE: (frustrated) No. No, no, no. You're not helping me.

KRAMER: Look, just tell him you had sex with his wife. That'll kill him.

GEORGE: (shouting) I'm not looking for another line. I got the line.

KRAMER: Look, George, just think about it. You know, you're married, how would you feel if somebody says to you that they just had se...

GEORGE: (really animated) Alright, alright. You see? This is why I hate writing with a large group. Everybody has their own little opinions, and it all gets homogenized, and you lose the whole edge of it. I'm going with jerk store! Jerk store is the line! Jerk store! Yess!

Quote of the day

2004-10-08T13:54:00.000-05:00

CNBC’s Dennis Miller, to LPGAer Annika Sorenstam on next weekend’s Samsung World Championship in Palm Desert, California, “I remember years ago reading a Sports Illustrated article that the Palms Springs tournament is like Lesbian-Palooza. Isn’t it? I mean every lesbian in the world shows up down there. ... It does turn into a little bit of a freak scene in the desert, doesn’t it?” Sorenstam: “I like to stay in the fairways and [on] the greens, so I don’t see much of that”