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November 12, 2008 – 10:38 am
I think it’s pretty ironic that the only place I’ve ever read Reader’s Digest is on the toilet. “Do you need to shit? Do you like to read? Than do we have some pointless stories for you.”
I was eating at a Hardee’s in a small town near the Maryland, Virginia border. This older African American couple stared at me the entire time I was in there. As they were leaving they walked by my table and said, “Excuse me, but are you from Europe?” I was taken aback by their question. “No, I’m not. I’m from South Carolina originally.” And my answer made them a little sad. “Oh, we could have sworn you were from Europe.” Then I got a little sad for them. How boring are these people’s lives? How sheltered an exsistence must they be living if they were excited about some skinny white guy they saw at Hardee’s and the prospect that he might be from another contitnent.
When we first moved to our neighborhood five years ago, we walked past our next door neighbor and she introduced herself:
“My name Millie,” she said in a thick Brooklyn accent.
“Hi, I’m David, this is my wife Mandy,” I replied, putting my keys in my apartment door.
“And this here is my son Blaise. He’s retarded.”
I was so unprepared for her blunt introduction of her son that I laughed. And she said, “No for real, he’s retarded.”
I stood there kind of frozen and the first thing that came out of my mouth was, “Oh, that’s great.”
And she continued on. “His name is Blaise. He’s named after his father.”
“Oh, is he retarded too?”
Welcome to the neighborhood.
“
November 4, 2008 – 10:32 am
Someone sent me a text yesterday afternoon. “Don’t forget to vote” - the message read. As I looked at the message I filled with rage. I imagined this person sending the message and getting filled up with all these positive feelings. “Everyone’s now going to know what a politically minded person I am- look at me, taking part in Democracy! Guys, seriously, it’s so important to like, um, vote… yeah- democracy.”
This guy is a dick-wad. His little text message did nothing. Who in their right mind would forget to vote tomorrow? It’s not like the election has been going on for two years or anything. It’s not as if someone is going to be walking around town-”there was something I was supposed to do today… what is it? Dentist? No. Yoga class? No. Oh wait, I’m getting a text- Don’t forget to vote tomorrow- that’s it- voting. Duh.”
If you forget to vote, in an election as in your face as this one has been-good. If you’re that blind and oblivious to the world in which you live, you shouldn’t have a role in electing our leaders. And if you think that by sending out a little text message to all your little friends, you are somehow doing your part-you shouldn’t be allowed to vote either.
So vote if you were going to. Or don’t. But if you forget what day today is…don’t worry, you vote tomorrow.
October 28, 2008 – 9:39 am
If you went back ten years, to 1998, and explained the past eight years, no one would believe it. It would sound like one of those insane dreams you try and recount to your friends the next day:
Oh man, I had the weirdest dream. George Bush’s son became president. Yeah, the guy who used to own the Rangers. But he only won by like, 5 votes or something crazy like that. Yeah and the other guy said he won and they argued back and forth- Republicans were protesting…But at first it was fine because he was always on vacation. And he vacationed in a really awful town in Texas.
Anyway, but then we were attacked, and it was horrible-and the people who did it were from Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan, but we then attacked Iraq- I know, it doesn’t make any sense.
And then he ran for reelection against Frankenstein. I swear to God, he ran against Frankenstein, and Frankenstein’s wife was in the ketchup business and… and then a storm wiped out New Orleans. And people were living in the Super Dome and Bush said everybody was doing a really great job while the place was under water.
Chinese infants were winning Gold Medals in the Olympics.
And then the economy totally went under, everybody lost their jobs, it was crazy, people were freaking out. And right before I woke up we elected a black guy as our next president, and he had the weirdest name… what was it… oh, his name was Barack Hussein Obama.
I’m never eating before bed again.
October 27, 2008 – 9:16 am
Weekends used to end early when I was a kid. Sunday mornings, mom would come down the stairs open my door and say the most dreaded phrase eve: “Time to go to church.” That meant the weekend was officially over. There were those rare mornings when she would let us skip mass- when that happened it was as if God was answering my prayers.
I come from a religiously mixed marriage. My mom is a Catholic and my dad is a golfer. As we were praying for world peace, my dad was praying not to three putt.
It creates a weird religious experience having one parent take you to church while the other is enjoying his Sunday morning. If you believe in Christianity then you have to believe in heaven and also in hell:
“Mommy, since daddy’s not in church, does that mean he’s going to hell?”
And my sweet little mother looked down at me and without blinking an eye said:
“Yes.”
October 14, 2008 – 9:25 am
I recently took a six am flight to North Carolina, and a six am flight back to New York. I enjoy flying at six am. No lines, no delays. The only problem is after I tell my wife about the six am flight she refuses to have sex with me.  Women on six am flights have the same facial expressions- a mix of exhaustion and figuring out how to kill her husband for booking this flight. It’s only men who will book a flight at that time of the day to save a little money. Men just see the black and white of the money being saved. Women take into account that two days are going to be ruined in the process.
Six am flights are the best because all the passangers have the same objective in mind: get me back to sleep. And you know the person sitting next to you won’t be chatting you up. “Where are you coming from?” “Bed you moron.”
This is how I want the people I am flying with. Not jacked up, ready to go. Not sitting around all morning, imagining all the terrible scenarios that could play out, arguing with the flight attendants in their head. Not fighting rush hour traffic and driving around, searching for parking. I want them so tired that they pass out as soon as the cram their carry on into the over head bin. I want everyone acting like it’s an hour after Thanksgiving dinner, and the coffee has worn off and the food coma starts to kick in.
Those are the people I want to be flying with. And if it prevents me from having sex for a little while, so be it.
October 9, 2008 – 9:45 am
I swear to God this is true:
“John McCain Won Senate Congeniality Contest”
-Washington
The lies of John McCain continue. Running on his Maverick, out-sider, take no prisoners image, John McCain has claimed several times that he “never won any Senate Congeniality competitions.” However Senate records show that McCain twice won the annual Senate Congeniality Competition. In fact, he won by such a landslide in 1987, he was asked not to compete the following year, so as to give others a chance.
“This is appaling,” said fellow Senator and the Democratic Vice Presidential nominee Joe Biden. “For him to say he never won the competition is a slap in the face to all Americans. I worked across the aisle to make sure he won. Of course it was easy considering he won 97-2.”
Republicans defended the Senator’s position.
“When McCain says he didn’t win the competition he means that since he won by such a large amount, it wasn’t really a contest. And how can you win if it wasn’t a contest,” according to Arlen Spector (R, PA). “This is just another attempt by the Obama campaign to smear John McCain. The American people know who the real John McCain is a real ornery S.O.B. And that’s who the American people want leading them the next four years.
When asked for a comment a McCain spokesperson told this reporter to “burn in hell” followed by ” see, that’s the kind of leadership you get from John McCain. He’s a total asshole. American’s know that.”
October 7, 2008 – 9:14 am
Last night I was wondering what G.W. Bush is going to do after he gets out of office. It might be hard for him to find a job considering how he has failed on such a spectacular level. Most ex-presidents make a lot of money going around, giving speeches, but as we all know, public speaking isn’t one of his strong suits.
Doesn’t he seems like the kind of guy who makes a really good salsa. That could be a business opportunity for him right there. George W. Bush- Salsa. Could have three temperatures- Mild, Medium, and Nu-ca-lur. He could put his face on the jar, Paul Newman style. Conservatives would love it because they’d think he was a bad ass, liberals would love it for the irony.
He could do commercials for them- “George W. Bush Peach Salsa- There’s peaches in the salsa.”  “I’m George W. Bush and I approve this salsa.” The possibilities are endless.
He could make his own brand of terrorist salsa. We’d all know it’s simply hummus, but it’d be fun for him.
“George W. Bush Salsa- You eat it with chips”
“George W. Bush- It’s a heckofa Salsa”
Seriously, this is brilliant.
October 6, 2008 – 9:36 am
The Cubs were swept this weekend by the Los Angeles Dodgers. What was supposed to be our year, ending before it even began.
To sum up my feelings about the Chicago Cubs:
I feel like I’m 17 years year old, at the prom, and my date passed out drunk before we got to have sex. And she promised me this was going to be the time. Finally.
She’s passed out and I’m just sitting in the room, overdressed and lonely. I pull out the unused condom in my pocket, look at it, and the reality that I will not be using it starts to fully sink in.
I look at my date, covered in sequins and vomit, knowing she’s going to come to and ask me what happened. And I’ll want to tell her she ruined my life. That I can never believe another thing she says ever again, she’s an embarrassment to everyone who knows her, and I can’t believe that so much of my life has been wasted on her.
But I know deep in my heart, when she does open those pathetic little eyes, and asks me if I hate her, I’ll just say “No. We’ll wait until next year.”
October 3, 2008 – 11:11 am
Curse: the expression of a wish that misfortune, evil, doom, etc., befall a person, group, etc.
-dictionary.com
“You wrong me every way; you wrong me”
-Julius Caesar
If you watched the Cubs vs. Dodgers last night, and don’t think there is a Curse on the Chicago Cubs, you are probably one of the 23% of the population who still supports President Bush.
Don’t think there is a curse? Four errors on a night that Carlos Zambrano is pitching really really well. One from each of your infielders! Our catcher, Geovany Soto tried throwing the ball to back to the pitcher, rolls it half way there. It was as Stephen Hawking had thrown the ball to the mound.
Jim Edmunds hits 2 shots right against the wall, they don’t go out of the ball park, meanwhile Manny Ramierez hits one of the longest home runs I’ve ever seen in Wrigley Field.
Game One Ryan Dempster, 17 game winner, walks 7 batters.
There is a curse alright, but it isn’t on the players. They’re all mercenaries (beside Kerry Wood, a life long Cub with immense promise who has had a career riddled with injuries) . They don’t care if they are playing for the Dodgers or the Cubs or the Kansas City Royals. You think Fukodome believes in a curse? You think Alfonso Soriano cares that a black cat ran across Wrigley Field in 1969, which led directly to the Cubs collapsing to the Mets? No. We’re more upset about this then the players are. They lose the series, they’re going to Cabo for a month to count their millions. I’m going to be the one sitting in the crammed subway, freezing my ass off, Googling the exorcism of Billy Goats.
After every strike out, every inning gone by with out us scoring last night, I was yelling at the television- demanding the people in the stand to charge the field- start leaving in droves, throw things at the players, tear them limb from limb. This is not the thinking of a rational man.
It’s the fans who are cursed. It’s the people who paint their faces and spend 1/2 of their money for playoff tickets who are cursed. Athletes talk all the time about feeding off the energy of the crowd- well the Cubs players are choking on the energy of our hatred. Every time the Cubs make the playoffs the fans turn from this friendly, lovable lot, into manic depressives on the brink of suicide. We are a group of people who are convinced that we do not deserve love or happiness. That is the Curse of the Chicago Cubs.
Cassius said in Julius Caeser “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves that we are underlings.” And until the entire Cubs nation lets go of this curse, once and for all, we will be condemned to a live of misery, just be peeping about, finding ourselves dishonorable graves.
October 2, 2008 – 2:53 pm
I have been blessed with many things in life. But one of the crosses I have to bear is being a life long, die hard, Chicago Cubs fan
Being a Cubs fan is like you have this really cute puppy. And it’s smart and funny and loves you more then life itself. It’s like a ray of sunshine in your otherwise bleak, meaningless existence. Now picture watching this puppy get run over by a bus every single day for six months.
I truly believe all Chicago Cubs fans are seriously contemplating suicide today.
And all that pain was on display last night in full force. We started the game feeling on top of the world. We have the best record in the National League, a balanced offensive attack, dominant starting pitching, a rock solid bull pen, and we’re playing the team with the worst record in the playoffs. Then our starting pitcher, our 17 game winner 14-3 at home, walks 7 batters. SEVEN BATTERS!!! In the fifth inning he walks three in a row and gives up a grandslam. Our all star lead-off hitter goes 0-5. Manny F-ing Rameriez hits a homerun on a ball so low that our rookie of the year catcher (who also went hitless) was getting ready to block the ball in the dirt.
And you could see the desperation, the disappointment, the here we go again, the 100 years of failure, the black cat, the Padres collapse, the Bartman incident, it’s all coming back.
If the Cubs lose tonight the saddest place in the world will be Wrigley Field. And the bar in which I will be breaking my sobriety.
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