Thursday, September 30, 2004

Roasting
Last night I participated in my first ever Roast. My good friend, comedian Mike Tsirklin, had a surprise roast thrown by his sister in celebration of his 29th birthday. I've always been a huge fan of Roasts, ever since they started airing them on Comedy Central, so I was very excited to actually be involved in one. I wrote some good material, none of which was nearly as good as my favorite roast line ever, via Jeff Ross during the Drew Carey Roast. "Drew Carey is to comedy, what Mariah Carey is to comedy."

In the crowd, I didn't get picked on nearly as much as I thought I would. There were a couple of hair shots, and when Mike got his revenge at the end of the Roast he told me that "Dave Attell called, he wants his act back." I guess that's what I get for telling the audience that I live vicariously through Mike by masturbating to his girlfriend. Oh well. I learned one important lesson, though. If you say to a group of comedians, "Hey, go easy on the drug references, his boss is in the crowd," the only thing that will come of it is everybody prefacing their act with, "So, I was told I had to go easy on the drug references because Mike's boss is in the crowd." That's about it.

It's been a very busy-slash-tiring day today, so unfortunately I'm going to end this post now instead of trying to turn it into something funny. But before I go, I just want to confess that yes, I do feel a bit guilty about the whole Paris Hilton using the N-word thing. Had she not read the post where Sherrod hijacked my IM, I don't think she would've ever have known that word. My deepest regrets.

|
b at 5:54 PM

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

Space Virgin

So in case you missed it, the people over at Virgin unveiled a plan to start sending passengers into space by 2008. That's right, in 4 years you and four of your friends can swing on over to "Virgin Galactic" and get whisked away to space on a little space ship voyage that lasts "2 to 3 hours." Now, during these 2 to 3 hours you're blessed with 4 to 5 minutes of weightlessness. And as if it couldn't get any cooler, you can even enjoy a gin & tonic during your trip (liquor license pending.) Seriously, how cool is that? Yep, you get all of that for the low, low price of... wait a second. Hold on. It says here, that it costs $100,000. Are they fucking serious?

$100,000 for a 2-3 hour trip with 4-5 minutes of weightlessness and 1 gin & tonic? Get the fuck out of here.

You know what, you don't have to wait until 2008. I'd like to announce that I will be competing with Virgin Galactic as of this weekend. I'm going to offer all the same amenities as Virgin, at a fraction of the cost. And I promise it will be much, much more enjoyable.

Comfort - Them: Bucket Seats. Me: My Couch. Why be forced to sit in the upright position when you can just chill out on the couch in my living room? Make yourself comfortable. Shit, you can even put your feet up on the coffee table if you like, I don't care. Cost: $0

Weightlessness - Them: 0 Gravity Me: Opium. You're not going to be literally floating around my apartment, but you're going to feel like you're floating around my apartment. Isn't that all that matters? Yes, yes it is. Cost: $25

The View - Them: A Once In A Lifetime View Of The World From Space. Me: 'Shrooms. While you're enjoying the weightlessness of the opium, we're going to mix in a couple of 'shrooms for you so you can enjoy a great view. You're either going to see the planet Earth from 328,491 feet above the ground, or you're going to see a purple pit bull that wants to eat you. I am in no way responsible for the pit bull. Cost: $30

The Sounds - Them: Airplane-esque. Me: Sigur Ros, (). You're floating, you're checking out the Earth, what else would you want to listen to? As a bonus, we are going to play "Rocket" by the Smashing Pumpkins immediately prior to "takeoff." Cost: $11.99

Booze - Them: Gin & Tonic. Me: Open Bar. Right now in my apartment we're currently stocking some Vodka, Tangueray, Crown, Jack, and much much more. We also have some Bud Lights in the fridge, and you're more than welcome to pick up a 40oz at the bodega next door before you swing by. I think we also have a funnel somewhere. Cost: $5/cup or BYOB

Misc. - Them: Probably None. Me: Attractive females will have the option of allowing me to harass them by using space-centric pick up lines and sexual innuendo. Another bonus feature that we're offering, is every client is given the option of watching the old UPN sitcom "Homeboys From Outerspace" as they're coming down. Cost: $1/pickup line; Homeboys From Outerspace - Priceless.

Total Cost?
Them: $100,000
Me: About $72 & a few brain cells

So come on by my brand new spacestation this weekend. You must be 18 to travel, or have the expressed written consent of your parent or guardian. Or just be cute with a good fake ID. Come on, this isn't rocket science, people.

|
b at 2:38 PM

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

an IM conversation on a blog? Revolutionary.
I'm normally opposed to posting IM conversations... but I'm making an exception. My friend Dan, a.k.a. Bonoman2000, IM'd me to talk shit about my fantasy football team. This is what happens when you work at Best Week Ever and you leave your computer on when you go out to grab lunch.

Bonoman2000: looks like mcnair is definitely out this week
Bonoman2000: wow, your team is bad
Bonoman2000: i will kill myself if i lose
Bonoman2000: no offense pal. you can still enjoy that baseball money
buffoon 668: niggers, niggers, niggers everywhere I can't take it!
Bonoman2000: huh?
buffoon 668: you heard me!
Bonoman2000: wow
Bonoman2000: there are a lot
Bonoman2000: but...
Bonoman2000: i mean, for the most part they're harmless
buffoon 668: I can't take them anymore!
Bonoman2000: i mean, there's a few bad eggs whether you're black, white, red, or yellow
Bonoman2000: c'mon buddy.
Bonoman2000: take it easy
buffoon 668: you liberal pussy
Bonoman2000: whoa, whoa, whoa pal. i know you're emotional right now, but let's not say things we can't take back.
buffoon 668: fuck you too nigger lover!
Bonoman2000: ...
buffoon 668: fuck the world!!!!!!!!!!
Bonoman2000: i...i don't know what to say, bob.
buffoon 668: Okay its Sherrod Small, got ya, watch best week ever
Bonoman2000: really?
buffoon 668: yeah son!
Bonoman2000: you're the funniest black man ever!
buffoon 668: Thanks your my new mananger
Bonoman2000: nicccce
Bonoman2000: tell bob his fantasy football teams sucks my white balls

|
b at 2:47 PM

Monday, September 27, 2004

Charlaaaaaa
So I got my Towson University Alumni magazine in the mail on Saturday. Now, normally when this arrives in the mail I flip through it quickly, look for any pictures of cute college girls, see if anybody from my class has done anything newsworthy, and then immediately trash it. This edition, though, had something special inside. In the 'Class Notes' section in the back, there's a little (!) feature about Charla, the dwarf from The Amazing Race. Towson alum, baby, class of '99! Needless to say, I'm more than a tiny (!) bit excited about this. Since she graduated in '99, I definitely had to have seen her around campus. I mean, Towson did have a small (!) little person population, odds are I noticed her. The coolest thing, though, is the fact that I get to add Charla to the list of famous Towson alumni. For a mid-level (!) University, we've had some great celebs. Most notably:

Dave Meggett, Member of the New York Giants Superbowl winning team in 1990. Also beat up a hooker in Canada a few years ago.
Sean Landeta, Punter on every single NFL team at one point or another
Roc, a.k.a. Charles S. Dutton
Murdoch from The A-Team
King Gimp, Autistic guy that painted things with his head, subject of an Oscar winning documentary
John Schuerholtz, GM of the Atlanta Braves
Stacey Kiebler, WWE hottie. Frequent subject of My Blog Is Poop posts
The Bad Guy that owns the building that the Gremlins take over in Gremlins 2

I mean, all that from a state school in Maryland... can you believe it?

But yeah, there's a chance that I did see Charla around, but just lost her in the crowd of little people. My freshman year of college, I was actually good friends with a dwarf named Todd that lived in the basement of my building. Typing that, I know it sounds fake, but it isn't. Todd was an art major who loved skiing, and often held parties in his room because it was far away from the RA's room. I loved going into Todd's room, because after a couple of beers you felt like you were on top of the beanstalk. All the furniture was only a few inches off the ground, and everything was tiny. For once in my life, I knew exactly what Manute Bol felt like, and I loved it.

Todd was the coolest little person I've ever known. I actually had a friend that smoked pot for the first time with Todd, and afterwards he told me that he was never going to smoke again. "I just smoked up for the first time with a midget wearing a cowboy hat... there's no way I can ever top that." Todd also loved the ladies. He once told our friend Kelly, who was about 6' tall and gorgeous, that he wasn't "small everywhere," and told her that she would be "worth the climb." You gotta love that.

I've written a couple of jokes about little people that I use during stand-up sometimes. I have a pretty "anything goes" take on life when it comes to comedy. What's hilarious, though, are the people that come up to me and tell me that since I make fun of little people, when I have kids I'm going to have a little person. Like that's God's cruel trick. Whatever you make fun, that's what you're going to end up with. You know what then, great, I hope I do have a little person. He can hang out with my retarded kid, as well as the homeless kid I'm destined to have. Maybe they can fight crime together. We'll call them The Punishments. That'll be perfect.

|
b at 2:02 PM

Friday, September 24, 2004

Answers, Part 3 of 3
So here it is, the thrilling conclusion. I've answered all your questions honestly, and I hope they were semi-enjoyable. Thank you to everybody who had something to ask, and if you guys dug this, we could definitely do it again sometime.

why do you blog? who does this blog serve?
I'm glad somebody asked this. I started the blog because I was working on a VH1 show where I had NOTHING to do. You can only read so many blogs before you decide, Hey, I should do that. Besides, as a 'comedian' I figured it would be good for me to write something every day. That's how it started. I just wanted to amuse my friends here at work. Now I blog because I want to amuse people I don't know, and hope that it leads to people saying, "I enjoy the my blog is poop guy. We should go see him do stand-up." So, who does this blog serve? America.

Do you really hook up alot? i am confused about that.
This question surprised me, because I've never talked about actually hooking up in this blog. I've never written about any specific experiences, or even alluded to anything of that nature. All of my hookup posts have been full of general ideas and blanket statements about different aspects of hooking up, but I've never told stories or named names. I don't know whether to be flattered that this person assumes I hook up a lot, or be worried that people might perceive me as a slut. That being said, I'm not sure how to answer. What do you consider a lot? I don't think I hook up a lot, but I also don't think I have anything to complain about. I'm not one of these guys you see out at night scoping out the scene and trying to decide which chick I'm going to bang. I learned a long time ago that life is a lot more enjoyable when you go out to have fun instead of going out to hook up.

How men/women have you slept with? (so typical I know)
Hmm. Due to a presumed grammatical error, I'm not sure what this means. I guess I can't answer it. Try again next time.

is there such a thing as a selfless act?
Of course. Stupid.

why are so many wealthy actors scientologists?
Why are so many homeless people musicians?

people interested in flavor flav now: do you think most were fans of public enemy? if not why are they interested in him and does is compare to the popularity of paris hilton in any way? what do you think chuck d thinks of current era flava flav?
Most people that love Flavor now have never even heard of Public Enemy. In fact, they probably don't even like black people very much. Flavor Flav's new found fame is very similar to Paris Hilton's, solely because Flavor has become famous for doing nothing. That being said, at least Flavor is hilarious and enjoyable, while Paris is a complete waste of space. Regarding Chuck D; he's rolling over in his grave. And in conclusion, FLAVOR FLAAAAAAAAVVVV!

If you had to make a purchase from a midnight infomercial, what would it be?
Girls Gone Wild-- without that Doug Stanhoff guy.

Hypothetical situation. All your friends, family, coworkers, hell everyone you know, are all in some sort of peril. Falling off a raft, crashing cars into each other, diving into volcanoes, you name it. You have the opportunity to save only one person, and you need to save that one person. Who would you save and why?
My buddy, Sean Kobrin. As far as why... if you check out my post from July 9th you might be able to figure it out. That's all I can say.

what were you like as a teenager?
Pretty much the same as I am now, just a little less hairy. Senior year I was voted "Classical Comebacks" (because I was a smart ass) and my friend Dan and I were "Bosom Buddies." I played hockey and baseball, I performed in the school plays, I was a hopeless romantic who wore Green Day T-shirts and loved Pearl Jam. That about sums it up.

why do people never finish out their gym memberships?
I didn't know this was such a problem. Um. I'm sorry?

Why did you stuff a sock down your pants and make a girl cry.
I almost forgot about that! Okay, here's the story. One night at Towson we had an impromptu party at our apartment after somebody else's party got broken up. So we had about 20 people over, drinking, playing beer pong, and having a good time. There was one guy we didn't know, visiting from College Park, who was acting like a complete dickhead to everybody. We finally (not so politely) asked him to leave, and he did. Meanwhile this guy's sister was also at the party, flirting with a bunch of guys. Hours later, as the party dies down, this girl is still flirting with some friends... obviously just stringing them along. Fine, no harm done. Finally, at about 4:30, we had had it. My roommate Alan says to me, "B, you have to end this thing." So, I walked into my room, took off all my clothes, put on a pair of tighty whities, stuffed a tremendous pair of gym socks down the front, and walked back into the living room. I sat down in the middle of the room, spread eagle, and started talking to the girl. Eventually her brother comes up in conversation, so I said, "yeah, that kid was a real dick." She gets really offended, starts yelling at me, and out of nowhere yells, "You know, you think just because you have a BIG DICK you can go around being mean to people, but you can't!" Amazing.

you're anti-bush aren't you? FYI: just because i live in TX and my husband is in Iraq does not mean I support either of these idiots. I am not too impressed with either and am honestly thinking about putting myself on the ballot in the write-in box. Or maybe Taylor Hanson. I better start to see some real impressive stuff happening real soon here.
I would vote for you, and/or Taylor Hanson before I voted for George Bush.

what was the best vacation you ever took?
Going to Tampa to see 2 New York Yankees Spring Training games with my (ex) girlfriend. And my LA/San Diego trip last summer, where we did everything from going to a Dodgers game to jet skiing to partying with Trichelle from the Real World. Just an insane week.

In the picture with that flava guy, you look pretty thin. In that picture that's of the back fo your head, those guys look a little.......... not thin. What's up with that.
Well, in the Flavor pic I just got out of rehab, so... yeah. I'm not a Stroke, but I'm no John Popper either.

Why is Compton?
Unfair. This question is impossible to answer. We've been trying to understand our friend, Chris Compton, for years now. We've been able to answer Where is Compton, Who is Compton, How is Compton, What is Compton, and even When is Compton (arriving, because he's late)? However, Why is Compton will never be understood.

are you going to dan/greg/mike's party sat night? if so, will you be departing from bklyn? if so, do you wanna spoon on the path on the way over?
I am going to their party on Saturday night, I will be departing from Brooklyn, and I would love to spoon on the PATH. But ONLY if we're both really drunk, drinking Sparks, and making fun of all the Jersey girls with long fingernails on the train. Deal?

where does the white go when snow melts?
Out of all the questions I was asked... congratulations. This is the one that stumped me. You win, asshole.

|
b at 4:24 PM



Answers, Part 2 of 3
Kings of Leon or The Killers??
Well, I did decide to go to see The Killers over the Kings Of Leon on October 5th, but only because I got The Killers tickets first. They're on pretty level footing right now, and I don't think I'm going to end up regretting this decision. I hope not.

Have you ever had a sex fantasy that involved someone calling you bootylicious?
If by "somebody" you mean "Beyonce" and by "sex fantasy" you mean "sex fantasy" then Yes.

has lenny kravitz jumped the shark?
This question will be addressed in its own post in the near future. And it's not a matter of 'if,' it's 'when?' Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to rock out to his Gap commercial now.

Why is it that Yogi and BooBoo walk around in the forest with neckties but no pants?
Because they were sexual deviants. Next question.

Why do you hate Led Zepplin so much??
I don't hate Led Zeppelin, I just think that Led Zeppelin is the most overrated rock band in music history. Now don't harass me, I think they're all brilliant musicians. I do. I just don't think that they're as important to the history of rock and roll as people like to believe. Led Zeppelin wrote songs about magic and dragons and journeys through the forest. You know who decided Led Zeppelin were super important? Writers who like magic and dragons and journeys through the forest. Sorry, but you asked.

Why is Towson, Maryland shaped like a Rhombus?
It just is. Looking at Towson on a map, you'd never know. However, the second you try driving places you realize the bizarre, rhombus-esque shape of the city.

Why does this sound like a Jadakiss Song?
Which Jadakiss song? 'Fuckin' Or What?'

Fav. cereal?
For the past couple years it's been Raisin Bran. I went through a big Cocoa Puffs phase back in the day, and when I was a kid I loved Kix. I don't have the chance to eat cereal much anymore, because eating breakfast at home requires waking up a little bit earlier, as well as keeping milk in the house. I'm morally opposed to both.

Most embarrassing experience working at MTV networks?
There's a tie. Both of which happened when I was interning.
1. During lunch in the cafeteria one day I was being a smart-ass and doing an impression of MTV's John Norris. As I shouted out, "I'm John Norris, with MTV News," I looked up and John Norris was staring at me, like, "Who the fuck is this kid?" Great first impression.
2. I interned during the summer of MTV's 20th Birthday. On the actual birthday, I arrived at 1515 Broadway a bit on the early side and got in the elevator. As the doors were closing, I heard a woman shout "Hold the door." So I did. And Madonna got on. Now, I could care less about Madonna, but this was the biggest celebrity I had ever been around and we were on an elevator together! We talked about the Birthday, she said, "MTV's been really good to me throughout the years," and I agreed. When I got off at the 23rd floor I immediately called up my girlfriend and told her. It was crazy. Then, a few minutes later another intern arrived and told me that he was in an elevator with Snoop Dogg. It turns out that MTV hired celebrity impersonators to ride the elevators during the day in honor of their birthday. I felt like an idiot.

what happened to the twenty seven dollars you owe me from the cab ride?
Um, is the answer to this one, I have no fucking clue who you are?

why do you love the quasipseudos so much? haha
Well, let's see. The quasipsuedos consist of two 17 year-old high school girls from Florida, one of which has referred to me as her "blog boyfriend" and herself as my "blog groupie." What's not to love? (And yes, that is the sole reason they're listed in my faves section instead of my other faves section.)

what is your favorite animal?
Monkeys. I'm a simple man. A simple man who loves monkeys.

I hear you've been quite successful with the ladies, Bob. Who is your favorite girl that you've been with and why? Could be one night or long-termer. Poor bastard...I hope none of the other girls read you.
This one's easy: Marie. And for one simple reason. See, Marie was a girl in college that had a crush on me. I'm not saying this because I have an ego, I'm saying it because it's true. But anyway, after we hooked up once, Marie said the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me. Ladies, if you ever want to be a guy's 'favorite girl,' this is all you have to say. "Your penis is... beautiful."

KFC or Popeyes?
KFC, because PETA hates them.

Yeah, what's your take on S, D & CPs? Fav. Topic? I am very partial to the Saved by the Bell chapter.
Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs annoyed me, and here's why. I feel like I tend to think like Chuck, and I kinda try to write like Chuck, but in the end Chuck is a MILLION times more intelligent and talented than me and that annoys me. The book is incredible. I loved the Saved By The Bell chapter, but I enjoyed the first chapter about John Cusack movies the most. The whole thing is brilliant.

What's more horrifying - a Pedophile clown or Charles Manson?
A pedophile clown. At least Charles Manson wrote some killer tunes. (wait for it... wait for it...) Killer tunes?

What's the deal with those things at the end of shoelaces?
What's the deal with stealing old Jerry Seinfeld bits?

HOW IS IT THAT I'M SO AWESOME!!! I MEAN???? WHY DO THE GIRLS LOVE THE DOCTOR?
Because you're Dr. Awesomefuck. I can't believe you even have to ask.

I really just want to know, what is your favorite song of all time?! so im lame. shoot me.
Not lame at all. My favorite song of all time is "Mr. Jones" by the Counting Crows. I know you probably weren't expecting that, but it is. So there.

were we supposed to limit this to one question?
Nope.
|
b at 1:50 PM

Thursday, September 23, 2004

Answers, Part 1 of 3
Why did you pee in a diaper?
In college I produced an amazing sketch comedy show called Pregame. At the end of our first season, we decided to do something big on campus to promote our last episode. So, we had my friend Afro Brian walking a poodle around campus, smoking cigarettes, the word Pregame written on his back, and- oh yeah- wearing nothing but a diaper. The night before the stunt, we had to go to CVS to actually buy the diapers (and for the record, CVS does not have fitting rooms). Anyway, when we got the diapers back to the apartment, Brian and I immediately had to try them out. We strapped those babies on, cracked open a couple of beers, and spent the night drinking in diapers. Eventually, when nature called, it just made sense to go for it. And just so you know, peeing in a diaper knocks you out! Brian and I both slept like babies that night.

Why did you try to cook an Egg on the Foreman?
Because I love the Foreman Grill, and somebody told me it would work. I still think it could. Next time I just have to tilt the grill up a bit so the egg won't slide off onto the floor again. Oh yeah, and also because I'm an idiot.

What ever happened to the other two Cinnamon Toast Crunch chefs? And why was Wendell chosen as the only surviving member?
Well, if you recall, Wendell was the fat one. The marketing geniuses over at cinnamon Toast Crunch decided, "Hmm, we need to lose two of the three chefs... you know what, let's keep the obese one. That's what you want to see on your over-sugary breakfast cereal box, right?"

Did you ever wear braces. If so, for how long?
Too long. I actually got braces during the seventh grade, and did not get them off until I was a junior in high school. However, that didn't stop my orthodontist from saying, "Looks good. They should be coming off in a couple of months" every fucking visit for 4 straight years.

Did you ever know anyone who had their jaw wired shut for 6 weeks? What was it like for that person?
I do have a friend that got his jaw wired shut at the beginning of the summer. When I asked him what it was like, he responded, "Mmmmfffsksskkkjkj;fmmmmmpupupiu2ak."

Why was Zack Morris attracted to Tori?
Zack was able to act out his homosexual desires for Slater by getting with Tori. Think about it: leather jacket, played sports, loved cars, curly hair, big dimples, Z Cavariccis. Since there were absolutely no gay people at Bayside, Zack knew making a move on A.C. would lead to his demise. So, he went for the next best thing.

will you marry me?
Talking about marriage, my uncle once asked me, "Bob, you'd never buy a car you didn't test drive first, would you?" I said of course not. So, I can't marry you yet, however if you're not busy maybe we can meet up sometime...

Have you ever met hanson? because i love hanson. SInce you are at someplace they may have visited it's not really impossible. Also, I ask everyone this. I also tell them that if they ever get to meet hanson, and know ahead of time, I'd better be invited.
Definitely my favorite question. Believe it or not, yes, I did meet Hanson. We interviewed them for Best Week Ever the second week I worked here. I was excited too, because I had an unhealthy Hanson fascination in high school. I bought the cassette single for "Mmm Bop" and I would make my girlfriend refer to "I Will Come To You" as "our song." It was all in jest... kinda. But anyway, I did meet them. Taylor was cool, but the little one annoyed the shit out of everybody. And sadly, they were all taller than me.

Have you ever driven while drunk? Did you find it as difficult as they say?
Besides the morning after? Because driving drunk when the sun is up doesn't count, right? But seriously, yes, I have driven drunk. I am not proud of this, it just sort of happened a couple of times in college. In my defense, I was never too drunk to drive, and I didn't find it that difficult. I have not done it in years, and I don't plan on ever doing it again. Don't drink and drive, kids.

I'm Ron Burgundy?
Dammit, who put a question mark on the teleprompter???

Have you ever cheated during a competitive Pub-Crawl just to win a T-shirt featuring Fred "Rerun" Berry?
Never. Crissy and I won that Pub-Crawl fair and square. We're just better drinkers than the rest of you, deal with it. That's why we won the "Lisa 'Lefteye' Lopez Memorial Pub Crawl" in 2002, as well as the "Fred 'Rerun' Berry" Memorial Pub Crawl" last year. And yes, we are the early favorites to three-peat this Thanksgiving-eve at the "Rick 'Superfreak' James Memorial Pub Crawl."

What is it like living with a gay man in New York City?
I don't know, ask my roommate.

Mustard or Ketchup on a hot dog?
I eat hot dogs plain. I also usually eat salads plain too. I'm strange.

why do you cry?
This question, apparently, was written by a robot.

Why is Tony Danza doing a talk show instead of Teaching at Towson?
The "Hey, did you hear that Tony Danza is teaching a class at Towson next semester?" rumor that we started our sophomore year college and got tons of people to believe, was, in fact, just a rumor. Bad news for Towson, but good news for daytime television!

why is bill murray so watchable?
He's also kidnappable. Bill Murray used to go to the same driving range that my friends and I went to, so every time we went we plotted how to kidnap him. I mean, how great would it be to have Bill Murray at your house, just being entertaining all the time? Do that "I'm sailing!" bit again, Bill. Come on, do it again. I SAID FUCKING DO IT AGAIN!!!

If you had take one of your Weird Al Yankovic cd's onto a deserted island, which one would it be? I know you've always been partial to 1985's "Dare To Be Stupid", but I also remember you were a big fan of his 1996 comeback hit "Amish Paradise".
Tough call. Believe it or not, I'd go with his 1992 effort Off The Deep End, narrowly edging out 1988's Even Worse. "Smells Like Nirvana" is just a little bit better than "Fat," in my humble, loser opinion.

Assumming a catostrophic disaster that left only you and one other person (a female 250+ pounds) left on earth. Who would you most want the fat chick to be?
The mom from What's Eating Gilbert Grape, because she would be comfortable to sleep on.

Why did you bring a ROCK back to 17 3 A Stonewain Court with that girl who always wore that FOX Hoodie?
Listen, that girl was cute, albeit strange. We spent a day in the woods and she thought that rock was cool looking, so we decided to bring it back to the apartment. Yes, it was heavy and dirty and stupid, but in my defense, the gesture was meant to lead to ass.

does pornography diminish the soul?
I actually asked both a priest and a rabbi this question to find out the answer, and strangely, they both said the same thing: Yes, but only bukkake.

(part 2 coming soon...)
|
b at 6:01 PM



The 2 R's
We haven't talked about hooking up in a while. Let's talk about hooking up.

As of today, I've been single for almost 5 months.

I know this doesn't seem like a lot, but for me it's the third longest stretch of single-life I've ever experienced. My second longest single stretch was an 11 month run in 2002, and my longest stretch was a 17 year run that began in 1980 and didn't really end until January, 1997.

Now, in a way I'm kind of exaggerating. I did have stupid little relationships in middle school and early on in high school that led to first kisses and things of that nature. And in college I had several pre & post-relationship grey zones where I was technically single, but not really single. Those periods of time are hard to account for, but generally I've been able to round up and round down accordingly. But anyway, what I'm getting at is: while I haven't been single for long stretches of time, I have experienced plenty of single life. And here's what I've learned.

When it comes down to it, there are only two types of hookups: Relationship Hookups and Random Hookups. Everything that goes on during a hookup varies substantially depending on whether it is a Relationship or Random. Everything. Today we're going to break down some of the differences.

Clothing Removal. When you're in a relationship, you hardly ever have to worry about removing your partner's clothing. 90% of the time they're already waiting for you in bed, wearing pajamas or something easily removable (or nothing at all). And in the event that they're wearing something complicated for some reason or another, in a Relationship Hookup they'll gladly remove it for you and save you the frustration. With a Random Hookup you don't get any of these conveniences. I mean, unless you end up with somebody who quickly removes their own clothes and gets down to business, removing clothing can be uncomfortable and time consuming. ADVANTAGE: Relationship

Bragging. It seems like sometimes, talking about a hookup with your friends is more entertaining than the actual hookup itself. When you're in a Relationship there's usually not any story telling going on. You don't want your friends to think about your loving, caring partner that way. Absolutely not. Of course, if the relationship ends badly, that's when the good stuff comes out. Nobody I know ever had anal sex with their girlfriend, however a lot of people I know had anal sex with their ex-girlfriend. You get what I'm saying? With Random Hookups, there's no shield. The next morning, your friends get all the dirt. Of course, that's why it gets awkward when a Relationship stems from a Random... your friends already know too much. ADVANTAGE: Random

Protection. Relationship = The Pill +/- Crossing your fingers. Random = Condom +/- Crossing your fingers. ADVANTAGE: Relationship

The Distance. In a Relationship, you know what you're going to get. The only factors that dictate how far you're going to go are how long you've been together and what time of month it is. Now, in a Random situation, you never know. There are no absolutes. Random Hookups can be like a game of Let's Make A Deal. Like, "Well, Bob, things are looking pretty good. Now, you can stop right now and go home with your very own handjob, OR you can risk it all and try for some brand new Sex! Now remember, if it doesn't work out, you're going home with nothing at all. What's it gonna be?" ADVANTAGE: Relationship

Kink. This is a tough one to call. In a Random situation, something spontaneously kinky could happen that leaves you gasping "Holy Shit!" You're much more likely to be shocked with a Random. On the flip side, if you have something kinky in mind, the best way to approach it is through a Relationship. Now, I'm not saying that you wouldn't be able to convince a Random Hookup to dress like a construction worker and pee on your foot, I'm just saying that a girlfriend or boyfriend would probably be more likely to go along with it and not tell all their friends. Well, at least not until you break up. ADVANTAGE: Relationship if you're a kinky freak, Random if not

Excitement. There's a reason that dumb guys (myself included) have ended perfectly good relationships to be single again. Random Hookups are fun. ADVANTAGE: Random.

Now, by no means are all 6 of these factors equally important. It would be nearly impossible devise a universal weighing system to determine the relative importance of each, so I will let you decide that for yourself. But in the meantime-- Final Tally: Relationship 3, Random 2, one tie.

And it's too close to call.

What do you think?

|
b at 1:17 PM

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

brilliant
My roommate Eric and I came up with a brilliant idea. Possibly the most brilliant idea ever. An idea that's sure to make us billionaires several times over. Want to know what it is? Well, we're going to invent something. What are we going to invent? Get ready for this: A Teleportation Device.

I mean, how great would a Teleportation Device be? You can just get right in it, enter where you want to go, and then BAM, you're teleported the fuck there. Genius, right? Now, I know that we're not the first people to think of this. For decades geeks have been dreaming of Teleportation Devices, dressing up in Star Trek outfits and saying "Beam Me Up, Scotty" to their fellow geek friends. The difference between those guys and me & Eric is that me & Eric are going to actually DO something about it. We're going to invent it.

Now, notice I didn't say that we're going to build it. We're not. No, Eric and I are simply going to come up with the formula that makes teleportation possible, sell it, and let somebody else build it while we collect fat-ass Inventor's checks. How brilliant is that? I know you're probably thinking, "hey Bob, don't you think it's going to be hard to write that formula, or are you too incredibly good looking to have figured that out?" Well, yes, it is going to be hard... very hard, actually. Here are the biggest problems that we expect to face.

1. Finding a blackboard big enough to write it. I mean, we're talking like a room completely covered with blackboards-- do you know how hard that is to find? Finding a room with one blackboard is hard enough, finding a room with several blackboards is damn near impossible. Especially a room full of blackboards that also has several large dictionaries and encyclopedias lying around for decoration. If anybody knows where we could find this, please let us know.

2. Okay, so let's say we find the room of blackboards, now comes another huge problem. We're going to need a ladder with wheels attached to the bottom. You hear that people? It's not going to be easy to find one either. I mean, it's not like you can just go and pick one up at Home Depot. At least I don't think you can. Actually, the only things I've ever bought at Home Depot were a funnel, a valve, and ten feet of tubing in order to make a 10 Foot Funnel. But from what I recall, I don't remember seeing a "Ladders With Wheels" aisle.

3. Okay, now guess what: finding a ladder with wheels isn't even the biggest problem of all. No. Let's say we get the ladder with wheels, okay? Now, how are we NOT going to start playing with it?? It's impossible! We're going to be pushing each other around the room, taking turns on ladder rides... no work will ever get done! We believe that the ladder with wheels is the sole reason that a Teleportation Device does not already exist. Many brilliant scientists have not been able to get past the excitement of ladder rides. If Eric and I are somehow able to keep ladder rides to a minimum (by no means are we going to 'eliminate' ladder rides-- i'm being realistic here) we should be in pretty good shape.

Now, assuming we're able to solve problems 1 through 3, the only thing left to do is write the formula. We're going to need a lot of chalk... oh shit, I almost forgot.

4. We need a shit load of chalk.

Okay, so the formula. The formula is actually going to be the easiest part of this whole thing. Piece of cake, actually. See, we decided that whatever we come up with, as long as we multiply it by 0 at the end we're all good. This way it all checks out. So theoretically, the last part of the last line on the last blackboard could look something like this: 5r(x/y):(6xy + (2c*7) * 0 = 0

That's right, bitches. You should start kissing our asses now, because we're just a few blackboards and ladder rides away from being Teleportation Billionaires.

You're welcome.

|
b at 3:10 PM

Monday, September 20, 2004

Get To Know Your Local Blogger
Last night I forgot how to sleep. I mean, that's the only logical explanation, I can't think of any other reason why else I would be tossing and turning for hours on end. When I went to the Tea Lounge on 7th Avenue last night I limited myself to one cup of coffee, so I can't blame caffeine. And as far as my mental state, well, the Yankees took 2 of 3 from the Sawx, the Giants beat the Redskins, and most importantly, The Boys Of Summer defeated Returning Champions by a score of 11-3 to advance to the Yahoo Fantasy Baseball Finals, so mentally I was okay too. Plus, I was out until 6 in the morning on Saturday, so all signs pointed to passing the fuck out come Sunday night. Who knew I would forget the necessary skills to go to sleep?

Speaking of snooze-fests, what'd you think of the Emmys? I decided to keep a minute-by-minute running diary of the show. Here you go.

8:09 - Remembered the Emmys were on, flipped to ABC.
8:10 - I don't care what you say, Garry Shandling is in that elite Jon Lovitz class in my mind. Anything he does is great.
8:11 - Realized I was watching the Emmys, turned off TV.

I came to one conclusion, though, while watching the show. When I win my Emmy, instead of giving a typical speech I'm just going to tell The Clown Joke. And I'm not letting the music stop me either, I'm just gonna keep on going until the bitter end. That should help the ratings.

Anyway. So I've been writing on this thing for a little over 6 months now, and I decided I wanted to get a little more interactive on your collective asses. Combine that with a little narcissism, and you arrive at the focus of today's post:

Ask Bob Anything
This week, I want to answer your questions. Any question at all, nothing is off limits. You can put your question in the 'comments' section, you can IM them to me, you can e-mail them to me, you can find out where I live and sit on my fire escape and whisper it to me in my sleep... whatever you'd like. I will answer every question posed in Friday's post, where I will undoubtedly lose several readers and even more friends with my honest answers.

So take advantage of this. If you're a friend of mine, this is the perfect opportunity to fuck with me. If you're a complete stranger, this is a good chance to learn more about the idiot whose blog you're reading. And if you're my sister, this is your chance to find out where I hid your Grease tape in 1991.

So the ball is in your court, people. Abuse me.

|
b at 2:22 PM

Friday, September 17, 2004

The Clown Joke
Today, I am going to pass on one thing from my college experience. And that one thing is The Clown Joke. Now, you'll find in college that there are occasions where people are sitting around, drinking, and telling jokes. Sometimes these bizarre joke sessions break out at parties, and other times they just start up in somebody's dorm room, but either way, when it happens you have to be prepared. The joke I'm going to share with you now will not only be the joke that everybody talks about the next day, it is the joke that will inevitably END the entire joke telling session. Without fail, every time.

Now, before I share the joke with you, there are some ground rules:

1) You must be standing up. Put your beer down, and make sure you have everybody's attention. This joke is more about the performance than anything else, so you have to really get into it.
2) Keep eye contact with the people you're telling it to, or you'll lose them. This joke works best after a few drinks, so your friends will probably be tipsy and have a short attention span. Keep them interested.
3) By the second time you tell this joke, one of your friends will love it. Make sure you have that friend by your side from that point on in order to convince people that they're about to hear the funniest joke ever.
4) Sell the shit out of it! I can't stress this enough, it's all about the performance.
5) This joke works best if, immediately after you finish, you kill a baby.

Okay, I just threw in 5 to make sure you were paying attention. So, without further adieu, here's The Clown Joke. This is just the frame work, feel free to add or subtract in order to customize it to your own personality. Here we go:

So there was this kid, right, and all this kid ever wanted to do was go to the circus. That's it. He always talked about it, at night when he went to sleep he would dream about it, he fucking loved it. So on his tenth birthday his parents threw him a big birthday party. All of his friends came over and they played pin the tail on the donkey and musical chairs and they all had a lot of fun. When his friends left the kid sat down and opened up his presents. He opened up the gift from his sister, it was a a cool remote control car. Then he opened up the gifts from his grandmother and his grandfather, and his grandmother from his mother's side and his grandfather from his mother's side. And he was happy, because he was getting all these cool gifts, but it wasn't what he wanted. There was something missing. So just as he finishes opening his presents his mom walks over and says, 'wait, there's one more.' She hands him a card. So the kid opens up the envelope, then opens up the card, and there they are... tickets to the circus. Well the kid was ecstatic! He jumped up and down and he was so excited he couldn't even fall asleep that night. He got a calendar and circled the date on it, and then everyday he would x out the days as he would get closer and closer. 30 days, 29 days, 28 days, 27 days... 6 days, 5 days, 4 days, 3 days, 2 days, 1 day, then finally... the circus.

That morning, the kid popped right out of bed. He showered and got himself all ready, huge smile on his face the whole time. His family piled into the car and made their way to the circus. They walked into the Big Top and the kid was just floored. He was so happy. So he took his seat, section 3, row f, seat 12, and he was in heaven. He was fucking thrilled when the trapeze artists came out and did their trapeze thing, and he was smiling when the lion tamer came out and tamed the lion, and he was loving every second of it. But that wasn't what he wanted to see. There was one thing he was looking more forward to than anything else: the clowns. Finally, the clowns came out and the kid went nuts! They did the car thing, they were spraying each other with water, they were running around. It was crazy! Then, one of the clowns asked for a mic. He took the mic and asked everybody to quiet down. Everybody obeyed, and with that the clown said, 'I want everybody to look at their seats. If you're sitting in section 3, row f, seat 12, please stand up.' Everybody looked at their tickets... except the kid. Because he KNEW that it was his seat. The kid stood up, huge fucking smile on his face, and a big spotlight shone down on him. Then, the clown said, 'I want everybody in here to look at this kid. Because this kid is the biggest LOSER in the circus.' And everybody laughed and laughed and the kid was just... crushed.

So the kid went home that night and cried himself to sleep. He was miserable. He couldn't eat, he couldn't think straight. His grades went down. He was a shell of his former self, and he couldn't shake it. One day when he came home from school he grabbed the newspaper off the kitchen counter and thumbed through it. Out of nowhere, he sees an advertisement. 'Have you ever been insulted?' The kid thought, yeah, I've been insulted. 'Do you want revenge?' Yeah, he thought, I want revenge. 'Well' the ad stated, 'Come take a class in the Art of The Comeback and you will never be insulted again.' The kid thought, that's what I need! So he started saving up his money to take this class. He got a job as a paperboy, and after a couple of years he finally saved up enough.

So the kid took the class and he loved it. Every night he would go home and study. He really put a lot into it. When the session ended the kid started saving up money so he could take it Again! And he did. Year after the year the kid would take this class, and he just got better and better. After a few years, the kid started TEACHING the class, that's how good he was. People would come from near and far to have this guy teach them, he was incredible. As time went on, he became a bit of a celebrity. Captain Comeback, The King of Comebacks, people would call him. He was amazing. He was appearing on magazines, the cover of People, Time, Newsweek, Rolling Stone, you name it. The guy was huge. People would actually invite him to parties, and when he showed up, they would try to insult him. He would follow it up with such an incredible comeback that these people would leave THEIR OWN PARTY! I mean, he was great.

Years went by, and this kid who started out as just a normal kid, now had kids of his own. He was happily married, lived in a great house, and had more money than you could ever imagine... but something wasn't right. Something wasn't settled. So one day, this guy, now in his mid-40's was reading a newspaper in office, and what does he see? An ad for the circus. The SAME CIRCUS as when he was a kid. He immediately threw down the paper, picked up the phone and ordered a hundred tickets. He handed the tickets out to his family, his friends, his colleagues... everyone. The night of the circus he was going to get his much needed revenge, and he wanted everyone to be there when he did. He grabbed a calendar and circled the date. Every day, he would count down. 30 days, 29 days, 28 days, 27 days... 3 days, 2 days, 1 day. Then, the circus.

He arrived that night with everybody, and he took his seat. Section 3, row f, seat 12. The lion tamer came out and tamed his lion... he didn't care. The trapeze guys came out and did their trapeze thing... he could care less. He had one thing on his mind. Then, the clowns came out. And they did their little car thing, and they sprayed each other with water, and all was well and good... when suddenly a clown grabbed the mic and asked everybody to quiet down. THE SAME CLOWN. 'I need everybody to look at their seats. Will the person in section 3, row f, seat 12 please stand up?' Everybody looked at their tickets, but not the guy. He knew. Slowly, he stood up. 'I want everybody here to look at this man, because this man is the biggest LOSER at the circus.' But nobody laughed. They all knew what just happened. This clown just insulted the comeback King... and he was going to pay. Nervously, the clown shaded his eyes from the light to see what was going on, and when he did, he realized the tremendous mistake he just made. He dropped the mic with fear.

This is what the man had been waiting for. All these years later, he was finally going to get his revenge. The clown was shaking. Slowly, the man raised his finger... the clown was trembling... the place is dead silent... and the man points his finger right at the clown... and says...

Hey. Fuck You, Clown!

Do you hate me? Yeah you do.

Now just imagine how great that joke is in person, taking at least 10 minutes to tell it. Most of your friends will hate you by the end of it, but you know what? They'll all repeat it to their friends back home and make them just as miserable as they were. I promise.

Now enjoy.

|
b at 4:42 PM

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

rock you like a hurricane
I believe everything in the world directly effects everything else. A more intelligent way to state that would be "every action has a positive or negative reaction" but I like my way better. The point is, I believe that in some way, what some fat dude living in Michigan had for breakfast this morning has some effect on the world we live in.

I also believe that we have a very direct, very symbiotic relationship with the planet we inhabit. What Mother Nature does to us is directly proportional to what we do to Mother Nature. So, that being said, I want to let you all in on something that I recently figured out. Now, I hope you're sitting down, because this news is going to blow you away. Ready?

Lindsay Lohan's breasts are directly responsible for the increase of hurricanes this year.

I know, this is a shocking statement, but the more you think about it, it actually makes perfect sense. Just look at the eerie similarities:

-Before this year, they were both always around, yet not nearly as big
-Nobody can actually pinpoint where they came from
-I've been watching TV shows I normally avoid in order to see them
-They can both easily force a man into losing his wife, house, and kids
-They're intriguing from a distance, but would probably be intimidating up close
-It's easy to find websites that track their growth
-I'm already kind of sick of hearing about them

Scary, right? So, I believe that the sudden increase in Lindsay's bra size somehow broke the balance of our delicate ecosystem, and the results have been catastrophic. Perhaps if her breasts would have grown at a slower rate-- or for arguments sake, she got smaller implants and worked her way up to bigger ones-- the Earth would have been able to handle this gradual shift. However, she did not. And because of that, we're all paying. Well, actually we're not all paying... mostly Florida is.

So, Floridians, my advice to you: Write to your state legislature and local leaders, start a petition, boycott the Mean Girls DVD, and demand that Lindsay decrease her bust size. Tell her not to worry about what Wilmer might say, and not to fear the inevitable loss of interest from teenage boys and Hollywood motion picture studios. This is bigger than that. This is bigger than all of us.

Literally.

|
b at 1:09 PM





i'm on the left this time 
|
b at 10:55 AM

Tuesday, September 14, 2004

Flavor FLAAAAAAAAV
Brigitte Nielsen and Flavor Flav aren't even real. They can't be. There's no way that these two human beings exist on the same planet I do.

Since this was an official Best Week Ever interview, I'm not sure what I can get away with writing on this blog. I mean, the whole thing was just... for lack of a better word... surreal. Seriously.

I can tell you this. Flavor Flav was wearing a tremendous Knicks clock around his neck, his gold teeth, his crazy sunglasses, and his Viking Helmet. Brigitte, wearing heels, was more than a head taller than me. At one point, before the interview, Brigitte grabbed my face with her two massive hands and pulled me towards her. She was staring me in the eyes, seductively, and at that moment I knew only 2 things could happen:

1) she would squash my head like a grape, or
2) we were going to make out.

Luckily, neither happened. I started laughing, and eventually she let me go free.
But before she let me go, as we were gazing into each other's eyes, I felt a bizarre connection to Sylvester Stallone. I mean, me and Sly are the same height, and he was married to this woman! How did he do it?? I guess after you single handedly wipe out Vietnam, and go the distance with Apollo Creed, nothing is scary anymore. Good for you, Sly.

In the end, I didn't get a voicemail from Flavor, but I did get a picture taken with him. I'll be sure to post it tomorrow. Oh, and don't go calling me a starfucker. I got the picture taken with him because N.W.A. is one of my favorite rap groups ever, and I've always loved Flavor. Ha.

|
b at 6:41 PM



4 big notes for the day
1) Flava Flav is coming in to get interviewed for Best Week Ever today. My mission: Get Flava to record a Voicemail message for me. Something along the lines of, "Yeah BOYEEE, this is Bob's phone. Leave a message, Haaaaaaaa." This would officially beat my old Beyonce voicemail message of "Bob is bootylicious."

2) New albums by The Thrills and Dizzee Rascal today? Are you kidding me? Where the hell have I been? So excited.

3) Happy Birthday Alexis T.

4) Today is Day 2 of The Tony Danza Show, a show that is sure to be the defining talk show of our generation. Well, actually, I guess it's our parent's generation, but that's not the point. In case you missed it, Tony started the show off yesterday by riding on the back of a garbage truck. Symbolism? Possibly. Amazing? Absolutely. Thank God I'm Tivo'ing that shit.

A real update is coming in a little while. Sit tight.

|
b at 10:45 AM

Monday, September 13, 2004

easy like Sunday morning
Is it just me, or was yesterday the nicest day in the history of the free world? Honestly, it was perfect. And I'm not a weather guy-- I don't watch the weather channel, or start conversations by saying, "How 'bout that weather?" or, "Man, is it hot enough for ya?" or, "Damn, it's so humid my balls are stuck to my leg." I just don't. But even I was impressed yesterday. About midway through the day I got really depressed, because it dawned on me that there might have been dozens of days like that over the summer that I missed because I was hungover and laying on my couch. And I got angry... because I realized that if I were hungover and still on my couch I wouldn't have ever realized what I was missing. Damn sobriety.

I ended up making the most of the day. Best Week Ever's Doug Benson offered up some tickets to see his show, The Marijuana-logues, so we happily accepted them. I met up with a few friends for brunch in the meatpacking district, and afterwards we went back to somebody's apartment to prepare for The Marijuana-logues. And by "prepare," of course I mean "smoke a lot of marijuana." It's what you have to do to fully appreciate the show... it just makes sense. Of course, this was the same logic my friends and I used before attending The Vagina Monologues, and well, things just got awkward after that.

The show itself was very funny (and yes, I did just admit to smoking up before it, so I completely understand if you choose to ignore my opinion). It was funny looking around the crowd at the different types of people in attendance. There were some old, ex-hippie, white people. Some older black people. Young, dirty college students. All there because of one thing: a common love for pot. It was beautiful. I mean, how often do you see a group of people gathered together to celebrate a mutual interest? Well, actually, I guess that's what a Klan meeting must be like. Minus the black people, of course.

By nightfall, the nice weather was boring the shit out of me, so it was time for some HBO. First up, Six Feet Under. I really enjoyed this episode. I'm kinda bummed that it was the finale-- mainly because I think it was a great episode, but not a great season finale. Especially since it's HBO, and know that I now have to wait until I'm a 32 year-old single father for the next season. There was one ridiculous moment, though: When Nate confronts Lisa's sister's husband about the picture of Lisa. The guy goes from "I don't know what you're talking about?" to "I had an affair with Lisa and then killed her so I'm going to blow my brains out now" faster than any man in the history of television. Oh wait, if you didn't see the show yet I meant to write SPOILER ALERT before I typed that. Is it too late now? Whoops. Um, SPOILER ALERT. There.

Entourage was typical Entourage. Did you guys know that the main guy in Entourage, Eric, played the son on that horrible Married With Children rip-off show Unhappily Ever After? Talk about a career upswing, jesus. So knowing that, I purposely went back to watch the episode earlier in the season where David Faustino makes an awkward cameo as an out of work actor taking acting classes. Talk about a slap in the face to Bud Bundy. He must be going to sleep at night thinking, "Well, the kid that ripped off my character on a show that poorly imitated my show is currently starring in a HBO show about making it Hollywood, where I am reduced to a 5 second cameo and can't find a job. Well, at least they fed me on set. I wonder if Surreal Life 4 is casting yet?"

And on that note, I'd like to happily report that I've found the show to fill the Six Feet Under - Entourage - Ali G Show void in my life. No surprises here-- that show is The Surreal Life. I literally laugh out loud every time Flava Flav says something and immediately follows it with a "HAaaaaaa." Not only is the man amazing, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say it: Viking Helmets are the new Trucker Hats. You heard it here first.

|
b at 4:03 PM

Friday, September 10, 2004

9.10
3 years ago today, I had no idea what an 'al Queda' was
3 years ago today, the words "human bomb" meant 'fat person'
3 years ago today, a shitload of New Yorkers didn't like Guiliani
3 years ago today, when you said 'terrorist' I pictured the bad guy from Under Siege 2
3 years ago today, duct tape only had 1 main purpose
3 years ago today, anthrax was nothing more than a shitty 80's metal band
3 years ago today, I couldn't have pointed to Afghanistan on a map (and you couldn't either)
3 years ago today, my biggest fear when riding the subway was getting mugged
3 years ago today, outside of New York, the song "New York, New York" was met with chants of "Fuck The Yankees"
3 years ago today, I would've guessed that 'dirty bomb' was slang for 'wet fart'
3 years ago today, the Twin Towers were just two big, ugly buildings downtown
And today, I'm trying really hard not to end this post with a sappy line about "3 years ago tomorrow." I took some poetry classes in college... it's a hard habit to break.

|
b at 3:27 PM

Thursday, September 09, 2004

eat your vitamins
Kids tend to latch on to certain things as they're growing up. For my little sister, it was the movie Grease. I think she watched that movie every day for two straight years when we were kids. In fact, it got so annoying coming home from school and seeing John Travolta on my TV set, that I eventually stole the tape and hid it somewhere in our house. To this day I haven't revealed where it is. The lesson? Don't fuck with Bob. But anyway, that's not the point. The point is, for some kids it's a movie like Grease, for some kids it's a game like Dungeons & Dragons, and for some kids it's something else entirely. For me, and many other kids in the late 80's / early 90's, it was Professional Wrestling.

Now before I go on, please let me state that I no longer watch wrestling. In fact, I haven't for years. My religious wrestling viewing probably ended in 1993, and besides a brief spike in interest during my freshman year of college inspired by the whole Stone Cold Steve Austin era, the WWF has not been a part of my life since. But as a 12 year-old kid, every Saturday morning was like Christmas, every "Saturday Night Main Event" was like Chanukah, and every WWF Pay-Per-View was like Kwanzaa. Basically, what I'm saying is, wrestling was AWESOME.

A couple of posts ago, I made a reference to "kicking Marty Jannetty through the Barber Shop window." Now some people might consider that reference "obscure," but I don't. How could you? I still remember exactly where I was when that happened, and more importantly, exactly how I felt. In fact, since writing those words, I've been contemplating what the 3 most seminal wrestling moments of my lifetime are. Here's what I came up with, in order.

3) The Undertaker locking The Ultimate Warrior in a coffin. When I called my buddy Dan to make sure my Top 3 were accurate, he had this to say about my #3 choice. "I remember going to baseball practice that day... and I just felt... numb." That says it all. Watching the Undertaker knock the Warrior out cold, and then proceed to place him in a coffin and nail it shut was utterly disturbing. I mean, here was The Ultimate Warrior-- the most popular wrestler on the planet-- laying motionless in a casket. I remember pacing around my living room and purposely turning away from the TV set because it was so freaky. And to make things even more disturbing, when the Warrior was finally freed, they showed the inside of the casket. The Warrior, desperate to escape, clawed the shit out of the inside, leaving fingernail scratches everywhere. This event is probably the leading reason that I want to be cremated. Seriously.

2) Shawn Michaels throwing Marty Jannetty through the Barber Shop window. While the Undertaker thing was the most disturbing thing I'd ever seen, this was by far the most shocking. Together, Shawn and Marty comprised to make up The Rockers, the coolest tag team around. They both had flashy outfits, long hair, and radical earrings. But more important than that, they were like brothers. When they agreed to appear on Brutus "The Barber" Beefcake's interview segment, things were kind of weird between the two. Shawn had been acting like a bit of a dick, so they went on the show and made up. Hell, they even shook hands. Then, out of nowhere-- and I mean out of nowhere-- Shawn Michaels "superkicks" Marty, grabs him, and throws him through the plate glass window of the Barber Shop. Shawn smiles, and walks off the set, leaving Marty laying there bruised and bloodied. I'm still shocked to this day. This is undoubtedly why I have trouble trusting my good friends.

1) Earthquake crushing Jake The Snake's snake, Damien. What the fuck was wrong with the WWF? I mean, seriously. I went on google to find out what year this actually happened, and I came upon this description of the event on a wrestling fansite: Jake Roberts begins a feud with Earthquake, after Earthquake kills Damien with his earthquake buttdrop. WTF WWF?? This happened almost 15 years ago, but it might as well have happened yesterday. I think I actually cried when I saw it. I, like every other kid, loved Damien. He was this huge python that Jake would use to scare bad guys away... how cool is that? Anybody between the ages of 20 to 28 that has a python, loved Damien as a kid. Guaranteed. So watching this fat, evil, tattooed dude named Earthquake grab Damien (who was relaxing comfortably in his sack), drag him to the middle of the ring, and crush him with an "earthquake buttdrop," was probably the most traumatic moment of my youth. And the worst part? Jake watched the whole thing happen and couldn't do anything about it. Now, even if you've never watched wrestling a day in your life, how could this not break your heart? It broke mine. And, yes, this is probably the reason I will never find true love.

So to a kid growing up with the WWF, these were undoubtedly the three most memorable moments. And I know what you're going to say, "Hey Bob, guess what, wrestling is fake." Well, yes, asshole, wrestling is fake-- to you. But to me, it was just as real as dressing Olivia Newton-John up like a whore and dancing around Rydell High. The event itself may not have been real, but the feelings associated with it were.


So put that in your pipe and smoke it, brutha!



|
b at 1:57 PM

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

a letter
Dear MTA,

Hi, my name is Bob and I live in Brooklyn, New York. I use your subway system daily to commute both to and from work, and also to travel in and around New York City. Overall, I can't say that I'm completely satisfied with the service you provide. I have had several instances where local trains have turned into express trains without warning, where express trains have turned into local trains without warning, and where express trains and local trains have stopped running completely... yes, without warning. Thanks to these pleasant surprises, more than once I have had the opportunity to explore the lovely region of Bedford-Stuyvesant at 3:30 in the morning. Now, since this tends to occur after drinking for several hours, these unplanned visits to an unfamiliar area tend to leave me confused and scared. And, for the record, The Notorious B.I.G. is from Bed Stuy. Moving on.

The reason I'm writing you today, is because I had quite an interesting commute this morning. I arrived at my usual stop with my NY Post in hand, only to be greeted by about 50 people standing around, and a stopped train with open doors and angry riders. I was then informed by one of the angry riders that the train had been sitting there for over and hour, and it wasn't going to be moving anytime soon. So, being the resourceful sonofabitch that I am, I decided to walk over to the nearby F Train. Turns out that I was not the only resourceful sonofabitch out this morning. People were getting turned away from the station by the police since it was overcrowded. Lovely.

After bumping into a co-worker and spending about 1/2 an hour at his apartment, we decided to try again. This time we were allowed in the station, but still had to wait for 3 trains to pass before we could fit into one. It was on this train that something magical happened. The F train, poof, turned into a G train. It's amazing how that magical transformation takes place, isn't it? So, we took it to the Hoyt stop and planned to transfer to the A. Well, surprise, the A wasn't running either. We left the station, walked a couple of blocks to the 4/5, where we hopped into a train that took us to Union Square. It is there that we switched over to an N that finally took us to our destination.

The commute? A failed walk to the R then over to the F which transformed to the G that took me to an out-of-service A which led to a walk over to the 4/5 and a transfer to an N.

Total time, door to door? 2 hours and 25 minutes.

So why am I writing to you? Well, if you recall, close to a year ago you upped your fare from $1.50 to an even $2.00. I am writing today to ask for my 50 cents back. Overall, and especially today, I don't feel as if you've earned my extra 50 cents, so I would like to be reimbursed. I appreciate your professionalism.

Please make the check out to Bob @ My Blog Is Poop. I am eagerly waiting your response.

Sincerely,
Bob

|
b at 2:40 PM

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

back for good
Okay, so I'm back. No more vacations in sight, no more days off planned, and no more coming in late to work because I got too drunk the night before. Well, the first two at least. The point is, I feel like I've been a big cocktease all summer, coming and going as I pleased, but that's over now. From this point on I'm putting out. Use me.

So my vacation went as well as it could. The most productive thing I did all week was grow a beard, which goes to show how completely lazy I was. But at least it's a beautiful red beard. Yeah, for some unknown reason my facial hair grows in kind of reddish. I think it's because when my mom was pregnant she would dye her hair red and some of it seeped into my DNA. That's my theory, at least. Either way, having red facial hair has more negatives than positives. Back in the 90210 early 90's I couldn't grow Dylan-esque sideburns because they came in red. And inevitably, whenever I grow a beard somebody asks me, "Do you dye your beard red?" Are you kidding me? Who does that??

Anyway. Like I mentioned in my last post, I went down to DC on Thursday to visit some old friends. The group of us went out in Adams Morgan - myself, my friend Brian, his cousin David, and my other friend Sean. Sean recently got engaged, and this was my first time going out with him since. Let me just say that having an engaged friend is GREAT! Sean just doesn't care anymore, so he was walking around the bar acting like an idiot. He would go up to girls and yell, "HI, HAVE YOU MET MY FRIEND BOB YET? BOB IS GREAT! YOU HAVE TO MEET HIM!" He did this repeatedly, often to the large groups of girls that you're not supposed to approach because you know they'll eat you alive. When introduced, my responses varied from, "Hi, I'm sorry, this is really embarrassing," to "Hi, I may be really good looking but I have issues." The second line got more laughs than eye rolls, so I think it's a keeper.

Friday morning something strange happened. Brian and I both woke up at 9... and rather than try to go back to sleep, or lay around the house and complain about how hungover we were, we actually showered (separately) and spent the day walking around DC. You know, like regular people. We walked over to the White House, the Monument, and checked out one of the Smithsonians. We both took this newfound motivation to do things as proof that we're definitely not in college anymore.

I have only one regret from DC (that I'm willing to write about). All around DC there were booths set up that sold T-Shirts, kinda like we have here in Times Square. The difference being, these booths sold Kerry/Edwards shirts as well as Bush/Cheney shirts. I told Brian that I wanted to buy one of each, and do one of the following:

a) Wear each shirt on alternating days. Like, wear the Kerry/Edwards one on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and wear the Bush/Cheney one on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Whenever somebody would confront me on this, and ask who I like, my response would be, "I just love Democracy."

or

b) Go to a party wearing the Kerry/Edwards T-shirt and talk to as many people as I can about how I can't wait to vote, and about how much I hate Bush. Then, later in the night after a few beers, ask for everybody's attention. At this point I would chug a beer, throw the bottle across the room, and proceed to rip my Kerry/Edwards T-shirt in half, revealing the Bush/Cheney T-shirt I had on underneath. Then, like a 80's wrestler, I would shout out, "Bush and Cheney in '04, Suckers!" And then, just for good measure, I would kick Marty Jennetty through the Barber Shop window.

I should've gotten those T-shirts.

|
b at 11:55 AM

Thursday, September 02, 2004

and if you don't know, now you know
Okay, I haven't been completely honest with you guys this week.

I'm on vacation.

The crew of Best Week Ever was given the week off to prepare for our upcoming third season, so I have not set foot on the island of Manhattan since Saturday night. I decided I was going to continue to blog this week without telling you I was off, because with my planned trip to Vegas, my unplanned death in the family, and this additional week off, I've only worked like 11 days total this month. But please, don't be a hatah. This is a total 180 from my first summer working as a PA at MTV on the show Ultrasound: Shakeups And Breakups, when I routinely worked 14 hour days, and had exactly 2 days off in the month of August. I guess it all evens out.

Anyway. As a change of pace, I decided I was going to use my time off to relax, instead of using it to go crazy and drink my brains out for 7 straight days. I contemplated trying to spend the entire week alone in my room, Brian Wilson style, to see if I would lose my mind. Luckily, I was talked out of that. Since then, I haven't done much. I've watched a few movies, most notably The Girl Next Door. When I first started this blog I wrote a lot about that movie without having ever seen it. Now that I have, I'll be honest-- it was a mistake. Why? Because after it was over I came to the realization that if I die without ever being with Elisha Cuthbert, then it was all a waste. The whole thing. Yep. I'm not even kidding.

Yesterday turned into Dave Eggers Day. How? Well, after grabbing some coffee at about 1 (after I woke up at noon...ha), I went to Barnes & Noble. While I was looking around I stumbled upon one of his novels. It was the one with all of the words that I'm not going to even try to put in the right order because I'll end up screwing it up. Heartbreaking Staggering Genius A Work. There, you do it. Anyway, I sat down and read the first ten pages, but at the last minute decided to buy Sex, Drugs, And Cocoa Puffs instead. Fair enough.

After I left B&N I decided to walk around Park Slope for a while. I came upon a Superhero store that just opened on 5th Ave. You read that right, a Superhero store. I was curious, so I went inside. Turns out they weren't lying. In this store you can buy Anti-Invisibility Goggles, Capes, Masks, Flying Pills, Super Strength... the list goes on and on. One of the girls working there noticed how completely confused I was, so she explained it to me. The Superhero Store is a front. A ruse, if you will. The Superhero Store is actually a tutoring center... a tutoring center that was started by Dave Eggers. Now how cool is that? You get the kids to go in there to look at the Superhero stuff, and then once they're in there you tutor the shit out of them. Brilliant. I wanted to volunteer right then and there, but then I remembered how embarrassing it would be if a kid knew more than me. So I left.

And to complete the Dave Eggers Day theme, he appeared on that show on IFC that night. I can't remember the name of the show. It's either Dinner For Five, or Watch Jon Favreau Get Fatter Every Episode. I can't remember.

So that brings us to today. Once again, I ended up wandering the streets of Park Slope. I came upon my friend Chris moving into his new apartment with his new fiance. You know Chris. Chris is the redheaded guy in that Verizon commercial where his friends keep calling him and asking him how many Oreos they have in their mouth and stuff like that. He's also in Garden State as a drunk party-goer. See, you know Chris. Anyway, when I saw Chris and his fiance I gladly dropped my coffee and volunteered to help them with the move. After helping with the mattress, boxspring, and a couple of boxes, it dawned on me... I'm On Fucking Vacation! What the fuck am I doing?! I need to get out of here!

So, I'm heading down to Washington DC. My buddy Brian just moved into an apartment in the heart of DC, near GW University, so I am going to visit him. My week of relaxation turned into 3 days of relaxation, which amazingly turned out to be more than enough. Now it's back to the boozing, back to the craziness, and back to the Baltimore-DC region. Things are getting back to normal.

So I'm sorry I was keeping things from you. It won't happen again. Oh, and if you're having a barbecue this weekend, let me know. I'll be back in New York by Sunday, and more importantly, I'll be well rested and back in form.

One.

Oh, PS. Part 2 of the Saved By The Bell episode where Jesse's stepbrother Eric comes to Bayside airs on TBS tomorrow after Dawson's Creek. Set your TIVO's.

|
b at 1:14 AM