Tuesday, May 31, 2005

Pitchfork Hates the 90's
If you're a band that debuted and had a hit single or two in the 90's I have some bad news for you: the so-pretentious-it's-cute-sometimes Pitchforkmedia hates you.

Now, I know I'm going to have to cover my bases here because if I don't somebody's bound to say, "The new Belle & Sebastian got a 9, asshole, shows what you know!" And I'm going to be forced to reply with, "Are you really bringing up Belle & Sebastian? What is this, High Fidelity?" and nobody will win. So let me clear things up before I continue with what I want to say.

1. When I say "had a hit single or two in the 90's" I mean they had a popular song. Not a popular song amongst you and your group of friends, I mean a popular popular song. What constitutes as a popular song? Everything from "Smells Like Teen Spirit" to that song by The Verve Pipe about the couple that threw their baby in the dumpster.

2. I'm talking about real new releases. Not re-issues, not live albums. And not bands that consist of members that had success in the 90's (i.e. Gorillaz, Audioslave, etc.) And no solo projects. Ben Folds Five had a hit in the 90's, not Ben Folds. There's a difference.

That being said, Pitchfork hates the 90's. Check out these new releases from 4 of the bigger 90's acts... and the Eels... and tell me if you see a pattern.

Beck "Guero" - 6.6
Nine Inch Nails "With Teeth" - 6.5
Eels - "Blinking Lights and Other Revelations" - 6.5
Oasis "Don't Believe The Truth" - 4.7
Weezer "Make Believe" - 0.4

The highest rated of the bunch, Beck's "Guero" only got a 6.6, which on the Pitchfork scale (that they've oddly removed from the site) I believe loosely translates to "Like, it's good and stuff, but it's no Death Cab, who, for the record, totally jumped the shark when they were mentioned on the OC. Holy shit, did I just say jump the shark? That phrase jumped the shark back in '99. Lame."

So why can't any successful act that came out in the 90's score higher than a 7? Well, because everything new sucks, obviously. That, and no matter what they do they're going to have to deal with their legacy. Chuck Klosterman said it best (as he always does) in his Spin write-up about bands that are overrated and underrated. If you haven't read it, find it, I don't feel like rewriting it here. The point is, since these acts were "overrated" by Pitchfork's standards, their writers now feel the need to knock the wind out of their sails as only Pitchfork writers can.

Check it out.

Hell, Oasis weren't even the best band in Britpop. It's as though they succeeded solely by their own notorious conviction that they were the Beatles' rightful successors.

So does Make Believe completely ruin not just present-day Weezer, but retroactively, any enjoyment to be had from their earlier work? I don't know...

To some degree, Trent Reznor was a victim of his own success.

Apparently these guys are trying to get a job writing for "Behind The Music." Reading these reviews I kept waiting for the line, "Life couldn't have been better for these lifelong friends... but what they didn't know was things were about to change. Coming up..."

Listen, I'm not going to argue that the albums I listed are all amazing. That's not what I'm saying here. All I'm saying is that Pitchfork shouldn't even bother reviewing albums from bands that formed before The Strokes came out because inevitably they're going to tear them apart. Stick to the new stuff, rate it high so you can say you liked it first, and then everybody's happy.

Especially The Wallflowers, who should be counting thier blessings that their last album slipped under the radar... I can only imagine...
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b at 11:50 AM

Friday, May 27, 2005

Action Action Action Action PARK!
If you grew up in the tri-state area you have to read this.

I never left Action Park bloody, but I did go on a camp field trip with a kid who left with 3rd degree burns because one of the jets on a waterslide wasn't working.

The only things missing from the article are:

1) A discussion about the amazing Action Park theme song
2) A paragraph about the Vine-swing thing where you would swing out over swampy water, let go, and plummet 80 feet down to inevitably land on your neck

What a place. Action Park, you will be missed...
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b at 12:30 PM

Thursday, May 26, 2005

i'm a music blog now!

Okay, I haven't recommended a song or a band since "List of Demands" by Saul Williams in January. Well, it's time for my second recommendation of 2005. The Shout Out Louds.

Before I even got the CD I knew I was going to like it. Don't you love when you do that? When you just know you're going to like something before you actually hear it or own it. It's so much better than being cynical and assuming you're going to hate something because it's new or different or Make Believe.

But yes, I was basing my love for the Shout Out Louds on the one song I heard by them, "Very Loud." The first time MTVU (the best station to watch here at work) played the video I was hooked. Holy shit, I said, these guys sound like they belong on the "Reality Bites" soundtrack. Or the "So I Married An Axe Murderer" soundtrack. It's like great 90's Big Audio Dynamite-type-rock and I fucking love it.

So I bought the CD on Tuesday. Since I've been busy getting situated in the new apartment I haven't had a chance to load it on my iPod yet-- oh yeah, I finally got an iPod... they wouldn't let me move to the lower east side if I didn't-- I've been listening to the CD non-stop at home. Non-stop.

More specifically, I've been listening to "Very Loud" non-stop. You should too. Download it.

Shout Out Louds - Very Loud (mp3)
(from one of my favorite music blogs, Sixeyes)

Quick aside. Back in college I was driving around Pearl River with a good female friend of mine. I told her that I just got a new album (I can't remember which) and that it was so good I masturbated 4 times while listening to it. She said, "Really? You did?" Of course, I had to keep the lie going so I explained that that's how I was able to judge how much I liked an album. Whenever I got a new CD I went home, locked the door, put it on, and started masturbating. However many times I got off, that's how much I liked it.

She believed me.

Well, using that system Howl Howl, Gaff Gaff is at least a 6, meaning that it left me dehydrated and with calf cramps.

You've been warned.
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b at 4:02 PM

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Episode VI - Return of the Sencio

He's back! John Sencio signed back on to AOL for the first time in god-knows-how-long yesterday (presumably to do something AWESOME) and like always, I jumped at the chance to talk to him.

buffoon 668: hey John, don't want to bother you, but I downloaded a couple of songs off of your site and I just wanted to tell you that I love them
buffoon 668: especially "Paradise"
JSTVTRIBE signed off at 5:46:12 PM.

I'm getting closer. I can feel it.

Maybe I haven't been nice enough to John. Maybe I have to say something quote-worthy that he could add to the "Press" section on his website in order for him to finally start talking to me. I mean, so many people have already said nice things about John, maybe I have to up my game to get him to acknowledge me. Here are some of the quotes that he already has up:

"John is a mix of Bill Murray and Russell Crowe". Julia Stein - Casting Director
"John Sencio is a breath of fresh air - waking up to him is definitely a plus for the station." Stephanie LeMasters - article Videos Replaced
"John has spontanaiety and a hip wit!" Mel Klein - Good Little Pictures

You get the idea. Okay. Here's mine. I hope John likes it enough to include it... and accept me... and become my new best friend. Here you go.

"John Sencio makes me lean Pro-Life because I couldn't imagine a world without him." Bob - My Blog is Poop

I think it'll work, don't you?

Does anybody else have one? I'm sure Sencio would appreciate them all.
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b at 5:52 PM



Hey, anybody interested in making Gremlins 3?

Dear Mr. Spielberg,

Hey Steven, how's it going? It's Zach... Galligan. Zach Galligan, remember? Star of Gremlins and Gremlins 2? Yeah, I thought that would ring a bell.

I'm sure you're wondering why I'm contacting you, especially since we haven't talked in a looooooong time. Well, I'm not going to string you along here, I'm just going to come out and say it: I think it's time for Gremlins 3! Don't you?

The thought came the other day when I was sitting on my couch flipping through the channels and I landed on the TBS Superstation. Wouldn't you know it, Gremlins was on, and there I was, a much younger (and skinnier) Zach. I started thinking about what a great time I had making those movies, with you Phoebe, Chris and everybody else... even Gizmo. ;-)... and it dawned on me that we should TOTALLY do it again. One more time! Get the old gang back together for one last hoorah! We'll work during the day, and at night party like a bunch of-- dare I say-- Gremlins!

I don't think this is that crazy of an idea. If you think about it, at the end of Gremlins 2: The New Batch all is resolved... but in a way nothing is resolved. Gizmo is still alive and kicking. Billy and Kate are together and happy, but by this point their relationship has been through a lot. And if we've learned anything, we've learned that no matter how hard people try to properly take care of Gizmo, something always goes wrong. Right? So it's completely feasible to pick the story back up now, 15 years later. Kate and I are married and still having a lot of sex (just kidding, don't tell Phoebe I said that!). We're happily married, we live in California now, our lives are great, and... here's the kicker... we have a KID! Right? So Christmas comes and what do we do? We get our KID a mogwai! Will these guys ever learn??? No!

I don't think I need to tell you what happens next.

Just writing that out got me excited. I'd love to step into the shoes of Billy Peltzer one last time. You know, do it right. Go out with a bang. I don't think I have to tell you this, but of the dozens of characters I've played in my career Billy in Gremlins was my favorite. By a longshot. My second favorite? That would have to be Billy in Gremlins 2. I think you see what I'm getting at here.

Ha, remember that scene when the old lady gets on her chair to go upstairs and it haywires and throws her out the window? Ha, I was just thinking about that. I love that scene.

See, that's what I'm talking about! Gremlins 1 & 2 combined comedy and horror better than any movie in history and that's why I think audiences would go crazy over Gremlins 3. Look at all the people lining up to see Star Wars... that franchise is still strong and the first one of those movies came out in the 70's. Don't you think Gremlins would be just as big if we brought it back from the dead? Call me crazy, but I do.

I'm not going to beg, Mr. Spielberg. I just want you to think about it. Gremlins 3, starring Zach Galligan. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

Feel free to contact me any time, day or night, to let me know if you're interested. If you're worried about cost, I am more than willing to negotiate my fee. Just call me. Seriously. Please. I'm available.

All the best,
Zach "Billy" Galligan

P.S. - I'm sure Phoebe is available too. Have you spoken to her lately? I'd love to know how she's holding up. Okay, that's all. Call me.
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b at 4:01 PM

Monday, May 23, 2005

craigslist rants and raves - the poem

WHY R BLACKS JEALOUS OF ASIANS?
What do white women like about asian men?
why do latinas say they are white in w4m ads?
Remember the Tsunami?
Why would anyone go see Star Wars or Star Trek or the Simpsons?
have jewish girls ever dated non-white guys on JDATE?
Do you like my Ass?
Can we blow up the Earth?
why are you still single?
What do women want ?
WHAT IS THE BEST WAY TO RUIN YOUR EX BOYFRIENDS LIFE?
Asians - can we be more specific?
Am I my Bosses Boss?
Is this fucked up?
Who has got bigger issues?
Women--Why the Brazilian wax?
Am I hot? Seriously

To the idiot posting fatty photos
To the brokenhearted one...
To the "women who disagree with me are lying to themselves" "woman
To the OP, "Melanie P., You Are A Brainless Slut"
To the guy posting all the pictures of fat women...

Thank You New York



(May 23, 2005. Poem consists solely of Rants & Raves headlines from NY)
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b at 5:59 PM



i opened up my mail today..
Alexis T... wow.

I don't know how she did it, but she did...

I just got a package here at work. I opened it up without checking for anthrax (I'm not scared anymore, terrorists!) and I couldn't believe my eyes:

Gah! I then opened it up, and there it was:

B-
Here's to getting laid...
and not getting laid off!
Karo

In the words of Powerman5000, so this is what it's like when worlds collide.

Wow.

Thanks T, for the worst/best/worst gift I've ever received in my life. Now I'm going to force myself to read the entire thing so I can report on it soon. Wish me luck.
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b at 5:27 PM

Friday, May 20, 2005

how to go through life without remembering names

- When introducing two people, stop halfway and let them do the rest. Example: Oh Lindsay, I'd like you to meet... (exaggerated swallow/cough)
At this point, the person will instinctively introduce themselves to save you. "I'm Tim, nice to meet you." Saved.

- "Man," "Son," and "Dude," work for most guys, partially because most guys could care less if you know their names or not.

- Caller ID and cell phones are the two best things to ever happen to people who can't remember names. No longer do you have to deal with, "Hey, guess who" and be forced to rack your brain awkwardly and non-suspiciously as you chronicle every female voice you've ever encountered. Now, you can simply say, "Cut the shit Susan, I'm not going to tolerate another night of you annoying the fuck out of me" assuming the girl's name is Susan and she has a history of annoying the fuck out of you.

- Act genuinely happy to see the person. Accentuate this with an overexaggerated "Heyyyyy, it's great to see you!" If you're that thrilled to see them there's no way that you could've possibly forgotten their name.

- Hope that they forgot your name too. This is a risky one, because if they didn't then you're in trouble. Test the waters by saying, "I bet you don't remember my name, do you?" If they say no, you can both laugh about it. However, if they say 'yes' you look like the asshole for forgetting. Use this technique with caution.

- Don't say hi to anybody. Just start talking. This works well for the over confident and the creepy alike.

- When in doubt, mumble. If you have an idea what the person's name is, just kind of mumble a little and take it from there. "This is *mumble*Kate." So when she says, "My name is Catherine," you can quickly follow it up with, "That's what I said, Catherine." She'll either believe you or pretend to believe you, either way you'll feel better about yourself.

- Pretend that you don't know what the person's name is. When asked, "Do you remember this guy," simply respond, "No, Sheila, I don't remember this guy! Hi, what's your name again? Ho ho ho." It's the reverse psychology of the introduction world. If played properly you'll never have to remember that person's name ever again.

- Never leave your house. Don't be social. Don't meet new people and don't talk to anybody. If you can pull that off you'll never have to remember another name again. Congratulations!
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b at 2:42 PM

Thursday, May 19, 2005

do you miss Dan?
Well, he misses you. Check out his Apple Sports Life blog... updated for the first time in months. Of course, it was a lot more relevant before the Yankees lost last night, but you can't fault him for that.

I'll be back tomorrow. Busy moving week, yo. Don't be hatin.
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b at 5:45 PM

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Guess The Karo! Vol. 9
Two columns have passed since we last played Guess The Karo!, and I'd be lying if I didn't say they were the best ones ever!!!

Actually, I'd be lying if I do say that. They were awful.

So it's time to play America's favorite game about my least-favorite "comedian." Guess The Karo! As always, the rules: I'm going to pull 4 "jokes" from Aaron Karo's bi-weekly column and create alternate punchlines. You're going to have to figure out which ones are fake vs. which one Karo deemed funny enough to mail out to tens of thousands of readers. Let's begin.

(1) I just want to point out that Brian got engaged about three months after we stopped living together, but he's known he'd be marrying his girlfriend for quite some time. So in essence, I lived with a married couple for at least a year. You know how fucking weird and unhealthy that was?

a) Too weird for me to even comprehend.
b) I would have to beg them, "Mom... dad... please don't fight."
c) I actually used to yell at Brian for keeping the toilet seat... down!
d) It was even more unhealthy than me moving back home to live with my parents!

(2) Of course, with an engagement party, a bachelor party, a bachelorette party, a bridal shower, a rehearsal dinner, and then the actual wedding, the engagement is just the beginning of a yearlong series of events celebrating every incremental step of the process.

a) It's like Billy Madison is getting married.
b) I wish my Bar Mitzvah was like that, I could've used the attention at 13.
c) And they provide single people a great opportunity to think, "Man, I'm lonely."
d) Speaking of celebrating, come celebrate my new book this Friday at Sugar!

(3) Have you ever been eating something and casually looking at the box at the same time, and you glance at the Nutrition Facts and realize that you've just shoveled about eight "serving sizes" into your mouth in one sitting?

There's actually no punchline to this one. This is the point where you're supposed to go, "Ohhhh my god! I sooooo do that!" Please, feel free to do that now.

(4) I used to eat Subway like almost every day and exercise regularly. Now I find myself eating a lot of junk food and avoiding the gym.

a) It's like I'm doing Jared's diet in reverse.
b) Pretty soon I'll be able to audition for the part of "Before The Subway Diet" guy. I can't wait!
c) I wonder if Jared did the same thing after he graduated college.
d) If you buy my book you deserve to get AIDS.

Alright, and to conclude this week's game, as always, here's something from his website:

RUMINATIONS ON TWENTYSOMETHING LIFE RELEASE PARTY
Come celebrate with me!
Friday, May 20th
Sugar Lounge
311 Church Street, NYC
10pm - Midnight
Bring your book for me to sign!
(if I'm sober enough...)
-Karo

Who's going?

Answers are in the Comments section. Fuck me!
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b at 4:20 PM

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

this shit is bananas
Before I start, let me just warn you that this is going to be one of those "I got really drunk this weekend and did something stupid" type posts. I don't write those too often, but I think I have a good enough reason to today. I mean, I was physically thrown out of a bar on Saturday night... that has to count for something. Right? So skip over this if you hate drunk weekend stories, I just wanted to get this one off my chest. And so we begin...

Alright, let's travel back to Friday night. Dan, Mark, and I all headed up to Boston for a weekend of drinking and hanging out with old friends. Dan and Mark both went to Northeastern, and since that school goes by trimesters as opposed to semesters, during my four years of college I probably visited close to a dozen times thanks to the different schedules. I always have a good time in bean town, and I always get really, really drunk. This weekend was no exception.

Since we're all old bastards now and most of our friends have graduated and moved on in life, at first we didn't know who we were going to stay with. We even contemplated doing the grown up thing... getting a hotel room. Nahhhh. Instead, our friend Lex said we were welcome to stay with her even though she was going to go away Saturday. Worked for us.

We got to Boston close to midnight on Friday and drank as much as we could at a place called The Office. The Office, in case you were wondering, is right across the street from The Place. Boston: great city, not so creative with the names.

That night when we got back to Lex's place she informed us that her roommate wasn't around so one of us could sleep in her bed. We all shouted, "I call bed!" just as Lex was about to begin her second sentence. "She has herpes." That was met with a chorus of "Not it." We walked into her room to see if any herpes were walking around, when we notice that she had her bottle of Valtrax proudly displayed right next to her bed. We couldn't decide if this was an accident or if this was her way of saying "Sleep above the sheets, bitches." We didn't take any chances. Mark slept above the sheets.

Okay, Saturday. At about 2 o'clock in the afternoon we took the T down to the Fenway region to start drinking. We decided NOT to take a Fenway Park tour with our Boston buddies because the last thing three Yankee fans want to hear is some dorky Fenway employee gloat about the debacle that was 2004. Instead, we headed over to Boston Beer Works and immediately ordered 2 Blueberry Beers and 1 Bambino Ale. The day had officially begun.

Following lunch and several more fancy beers we headed across the street to the Cask & Flagon to do something different: drink outdoors. We spent a few hours there, shared a bunch of pitchers, and met up with a bunch of friends. After a quick stop at the Cactus Club we headed to our final destination: The Liquor Store. This is where things get good.

We were warned that The Liquor Store was currently THE hot bar in Boston. It was located in "The Alley" and if you wanted to get in you had to make sure to get there early. Since we were meeting a bunch of people and didn't want to wait we didn't risk a thing, we got there at 9:30. By 10 the place was packed. Let me describe The Liquor Store in Boston-- An overpriced bar that pretends it's fancy, has a mechanical bull. And that's it.

Okay. So after drinking a bunch of gin and tonics, talking to a bunch of old friends, and watching a bunch of girls and a guy named Mook ride the mechanical bull, everybody was having a good time. Well, almost everybody. A buddy of mine had a difficult conversation with an ex-gf (as if there's any other kind) and was not in the best of moods. Drunk as I was, I wanted to be a good friend, so he and I went over to a side bar to a) talk, and b) do tequila shots. Who ever said alcohol doesn't help?

So we're at the bar, two guys having a man to man talk while drinking beers and knocking back tequila shots, when all of a sudden a guy with a fancy clipboard walks over. "Excuse me, are either of you guys smokers?" Ughhhhhhhhh. One of those damn Marlboro guys trying to get people to sign up. Considering the amount of alcohol we had consumed and the current situation I did NOT want to be bothered by him. But rather than say "no" and let that be that, instead I yelled something along the lines of, "NO! We're not! Who the fuck are you trying to kill us? We don't want cancer! Take your fucking cancer survey somewhere else!"

Now, for the record, I never yell angry. This was a funny yell. I mean, it sounded serious, but deep down I was kidding. My friend that I was talking to started cracking up for the first time in hours, so that made me feel good. Now, here's where I do something stupid: rather than leave it at that, I decide that I want to keep my friend laughing. I turn to him and say "Watch this" and proceed to walk right up to the Marlboro Man while he's talking to somebody else and yell, "Don't talk to this guy! He's trying to kill you! This guy loves cancer! He loves it! Do you want cancer? Stop talking to him!" Marlboro Man turns to me and asks me to leave him alone. "No, I won't leave you alone. Murderer." I turn back to my friend and smile.

Marlboro Man takes off and I follow him. "Don't talk to this guy! This guy loves cancer! Cancer cancer cancer!" He walks up to a manager/bouncer looking fellow and tells him that I'm giving him a hard time. Now, as luck would have it, I decided to borrow a yellow Live Strong bracelet from Lex and wear it out that day. I had a prop! I turn to the manager and say, "You see this bracelet? My grandmother died of cancer because of people like HIM and I cannot believe that he has the gall to walk around here and do what he's doing. I'm insulted." The manager/bouncer responds by saying that the club gave him permission to do what he's doing, and I should leave him alone. This is where I pull out a gem. "I work for the Boston Herald, and I am going to let everybody know what this bar is doing!" I'm not sure if he believed me or not (have I mentioned yet that by this point I am fucking hammered!) but this is the last thing I remember him saying: "Write whatever you want, just let him be. If you touch him you're out of here."

And with that. For no reason at all. I take two fingers. And I poke the Marlboro Man's clipboard.

"That's it, you're out of here." My arm was thrown behind my back and three bouncers pounce on me. Since I can't do anything quietly I start yelling, "Look at me, I'm getting thrown out!!! Wooo!!! I'm getting thrown out!!! Don't smoke!"

My ass gets tossed out the front door. I immediately grab my cell phone to tell everybody the good news. Now, for the purpose of this story I've decided that I'm NOT going to write about how I tried to sneak back into the bar by climbing into the smoking area. Nope. And I'm not going to write about getting kicked out a second time. No. That would make me sound stupid.

Instead, I'm just going to say that I don't blame them at all for throwing me out. I blame Boston Beer Works instead. And the Cask & Flagon. And The Cactus Club. And their bartenders. And Lance Armstrong, because without that Live Strong bracelet I'm sure I would have been at least 10% quieter.

So that's that. I got thrown out of a bar for the first time in my life this weekend. Don't think any less of me. Know that I was doing it for the right reasons: To make a friend smile, to save people from lung cancer, and to ultimately write about it on a Tuesday afternoon for my blog. It's a win-win-win situation.

Thank you, Liquor Store. Next time, though, please be a little more gentle. My shoulder still hurts. Seriously.
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b at 5:28 PM

Friday, May 13, 2005

hand over fist
I'm not sure how it came up, but during lunch today a friend of mine actually said the following:

"A friend of mine in high school successfully masturbated to an Ab Roller infomercial once."

Without hesitation I replied, "Yeah, I knew a guy who successfully masturbated to Telemundo."

Now, this conversation cracked me up for several reasons. One, for us to both know these things means that we both had male friends who bragged about what they were able to get off to. That's odd in its own right. Sure, guys talk about masturbation on occassion, but it's unusual for guys to BRAG about masturbation. That's like bragging about your bowling skills. You may be good at it, but in the end you're still bragging about bowling. You know?

The other thing that made me laugh was the phrase "successfully masturbated." As if all masturbation isn't successful.

It's a great concept though. I'd be curious to find out what other people have successfully masturbated to. Some things are harder than others (no pun intended) so I made a list of different TV shows and created a scale for you to go by, with 1 being "extremely difficult" and 5 representing "full steam ahead." I kept the list limited to TV, though, because otherwise it may never have ended. So check it out, and please, let the hilarious anonymous comments begin!

Telemundo
PROS: Tons of hot Spanish speaking soap opera stars (think Marta 1 from Arrested Development)
CONS: Plenty of half naked chicks, no actual nudity. And, since you don't understand what they're saying, you never know when they're going to wrap something up and move onto the next scene. If only there was a button you could press on your remote to make them speak English.
RATING: 1.5/5

HBO's Real Sex
PROS: Tons of nudity. Usually more nudity than you can shake your stick at. And if you're into kink this show is bound to have something for you.
CONS: If you're not into kink then it may be a little much. Oh yeah, and the nudity? More often than not the naked people are in their forties and nasty. Even when you hit the naked jackpot, i.e. a segment about "Miss Nude Texas" or one about a Dutch orgy sex club, they usually cut away to a confessional or an unrelated story line before you can get too into it. And you always feel bad after masturbating to a documentary... I know I did after "Supersize Me."
RATING: 2.5/5

HBO's Pornucopia
PROS: Pornstars. And yes, I'm pretty sure I actually saw penetration once even though I can't back that up with any evidence.
CONS: Since this series is supposed to be about the "business" side of porn, they're constantly cutting away to skeevy producers or old, ugly "sex experts." Which leads to the question, why are "sex experts" always old and ugly? Shouldn't they look the part? How does a woman like Sue Johanson get to put "sex expert" on her business card while a girl like Jenna Haze does not? It just doesn't seem fair, does it?
RATING: 3/5

Desperate Housewives
PROS: Eva Longoria, Teri Hatcher, sometimes Marcia Cross
CONS: Felicity Huffman, everybody else
RATING: 2/5

Skinemax Movies
PROS: Softcore porn to the extreme. Loads of nudity as well as plenty of implied sex. This is the closest you'll come to finding real porn on TV without paying for it.
CONS: Nine times out of ten it's HILARIOUS. The music. The acting. The exaggerated sounds and movements. And I'm not even going to get into the ridiculous plotlines (though, I've said it before, the creation of the Virtual Reality headset was the best thing to ever happen to Cinemax movies, ever. It gave them free reign to have sex in various locations and not have to worry about it making any sense at all. Brilliant.) The other con is that you're always waiting for it to get just a *little* bit better, which it never does.
By the time that you've conceded that this is the best you're going to get the movie is almost over and you're racing to finish before the credits. That's never fun.
RATING: 4/5

Excercise Infomercials
PROS: Hot chicks. Bikinis. John Basedow.
CONS: Ripped guys. Banana hammocks. John Basedow.
RATING: 1/5

Fountains of Wayne "Stacey's Mom" video
PROS: Rachel Hunter doing her best Phoebe Cates impression.
Topless Rachel Hunter getting a massage. Rachel Hunter pole dancing on a kitchen counter.
CONS: The song is only 3 and a half minutes long.
Plus, there are too many kids in it, making it not only dangerous but illegal as well.
RATING: 1.5/5

Women's Tennis
PROS: If you close your eyes and are able to tune out the announcers they make some pretty sexy sounds. Not to mention that a handful of them are incredibly hot.
CONS: Outside that hot handful you're dealing with brute German chicks and women who could probably beat the shit out of you. Wait, maybe that's a pro.
RATING: 2.5/5

My Blog is Poop
PROS: From behind my hair makes me almost look like a woman.
A broad shouldered gross woman, yes, but I'm sure you've done worse.
Plus, I frequently post Sencio pics, pleasing both sexes equally.
CONS: With all the free porn you can find on the internet, you should be able to do a little better than the back of my head and John Sencio. Actually, who am I kidding? No you can't.
RATING: 5/5
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b at 2:47 PM

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

there's something you all need to know about my relationship with Macaulay Culkin
When I was growing up my best friend in the world was Macaulay Culkin. It's true. We met when he was in town filming 'Uncle Buck' with John Candy and we immediately hit it off. We had so many common interests like baseball, Nintendo, and He-Man that we became practically inseparable during the summer of 1988. After he left town we kept in touch as pen pals, and when he became the biggest star in the world thanks to 'Home Alone' nobody was happier for him than me.

Since I was his closest pal, Mac made sure to fly me out to all of his film shoots so we could hang out together.

Then, one day, everything changed. Macaulay Culkin... well...

Macaulay Culkin molested me.

It's true. It happened while he was filming 'My Girl.' Mac got my parent's permission to fly me down to North Carolina for a month to accompany him on the shoot. I was so excited about going because not only did I miss Mac, I was a huuuuge Dan Aykroyd fan as well (as if there's any other kind). I was in heaven, to say the least.

So I headed off to NC and everything started out great. Whenever Mac wasn't needed on the set he and I would run off and get in all sorts of trouble, as little boys are prone to do.

One Saturday while Mac and me were skipping rocks at a nearby pond he turned and said, "Hey, you should come down to the set tomorrow, I'm shooting a scene with Dan. I'll introduce you." I was floored. I jumped at the opportunity and screamed, "Yes! Yes! I'll be there!" and gave him a big hug. I was so happy I just wanted to hold him and hold him and never let go. Until I felt a little something poke against my pelvic bone. Then I let go.

That night I couldn't sleep. Visions of Coneheads and Ghostbusters and Blues Brothers danced in my head. I was just a few hours away from meeting THE Dan Aykroyd, all thanks to my best bud Mac. I was the luckiest kid in the whole wide world. Or so I thought.

I showed up on set at the crack of dawn and sat eagerly outside Mac's trailer and waited for him to arrive. When he got there he greeted me with our secret handshake (as usual) before unlocking the door to the trailer and walking in. Inside, I immediately jumped on the cushy sofa and turned on the TV.

"When I meet Dan," I began, "should I call him 'Dan' or 'Mr. Aykroyd?'"

"Call him whatever you want," Mac replied as he took the remote from my hand and switched to 'You Can't Do That On Television.' "He's cool. He's Dan Fucking Aykroyd." That caught me off guard. I had never heard Mac swear before, so it really came out of nowhere. I tried to laugh it off, but I couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. Why would Mac swear like that? I thought it was strange. But then things got stranger.

"Hey, how excited are you about meeting Dan?" Mac asked. Very, I answered. "Excited enough to do me favor?" he continued. Um, absolutely, I replied.

He turned off the TV.

"Well, then how about you..."

I'm sorry, this is just so hard for me to write. It's just... to this day... I still feel so... violated. There was kissing. There was holding. There was touching. There were fingers inserted into places that fingers shouldn't be inserted unless you're wiping really hard and one accidentally slips. There was spooning. And yes, there was even sporking.

What's sporking, you ask?

You don't even want to know.

After it was all over Mac told me to get dressed and that it was time to meet Aykroyd now. I was still shell shocked, so I complied. As we headed outside he stopped me and poked me in the chest-- with his finger this time-- and said, "Listen, you don't tell anybody what happened, okay? If you do, not only will I not let you meet Dan today, but I'll never let you meet anybody ever again. And I don't think you want me to do that, because I've got 'Home Alone 2' coming up and --yes-- both Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern are coming back. You got that?"

I nodded. And I never told anybody about it. Ever. Until today.

So that's it. That's my story. Was it horrible? Yes... yes it was. I haven't been the same person since. I'd go as far as saying that it was second most traumatic thing to ever happen to me, right after the time when Mac told me I'd have to blow him if I wanted to meet Ted Danson.

He may have been "Getting Even With Dad," but I have a long way to go before I get even with Macaulay Culkin.

(ed. note: i believe this falls under 'satire.' please don't sue me, mac. thank you.)
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b at 6:46 PM

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

John Sencio ROCKS!!!!!
Either these were just added or I've been living under a Secio-sized ROCK lately! John Sencio has posted songs from his band (which I presume is called The John Sencio Blues Explosion) on his site!!!

I guess we know what my favorite ex-MTV VJ is doing now that "Home Delivery" has been cancelled. Recording AMAZING rock & roll songs and avoiding me by staying off of AOL.

Now, two things:

1) If I was in high school my senior quote would look like this:

"I'm Mr. Personality / A modern day fatality / I'm Mr. Personality and I don't dig reality / Hey Hey / Hey Hey / What a day."
-John Sencio, "Mr. Personality"

2) Sencio gets all POIGNANT and shit on "Paradise." I took the time (read: listened to it twice) to transcribe the lyrics. I hope you're sitting down people, because this hits home hard.

"Paradise"
by The John Sencio Blues Explosion

You think you have it nice, you shouldn't think twice
about the negroes in the street
the homeless man with broken feet
the white trash in the trailer park
the prostitutes fighting in the dark
the mexicans on the run
the schoolboys with their shotguns.

We're living in Paradise.
We're liiiiving in Paradise.

You live in paradise, you shouldn't think twice
about the skinheads who love to hate
the crips and bloods that assassinate
the indians drive onward back (?)
the CIA and the electric chair
militia man and the CLU
pornographers red white and blue.

We're living in Paradise. X4

I'll let you digest that. That's some deep shit right there.

Sencio 4 Life.
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b at 4:44 PM



that kind of music, it's the kind that i like
I don't know if this is normal, but certain songs remind of me certain places. Usually there aren't even any memories attached, just locations. In a car. On my bed. Riding a horse on the beach during sunset. You know, the usual shit.

That's just how my mind works. The down side of that is when I'm at a certain place I immediately get certain songs stuck in my head. Like when I'm riding on Burke Avenue in Towson I can't help but think of the Old 97's song "Rollerskate Skinny." Or when I'm walking up 7th Ave towards the park I immediate hear Travis' "Flowers In The Window."

Anyway, I was thinking about this last night as I was falling asleep and thinking about the song "Poses." Certain songs take me to certain places, and I think that that's pretty cool. Here a couple of songs, along with the places they remind me of.

"Angels of the Silences" Counting Crows - In the passenger seat of my dad's car, driving on 304 towards Haverstraw. Listening to X-107. It was the first time I heard it. I was glad that it rocked by Counting Crows standards, because if it didn't my dad would have made fun of me and told me to start listening to good music like AC/DC.

"1979" Smashing Pumpkins - Driving up the hill to our house. Specifically, going around a bend near a large telephone pole.

"The Boys In The Band" The Libertines - On the N train. Going over the Manhattan Bridge back to Brooklyn, looking out the window towards the Financial District.

"Yellow" Coldplay - My couch in college. Actually, the first time I heard it, I was watching the video and falling asleep. When i woke up I wasn't sure if it was real or not.

"A Change Is Gonna Come" Sam Cooke - Riding in my car about to give a big speech to my loyal followers. Little did I know, I was about to be gunned down by a crazy guy with a rifle in the front row. Oh wait, that was Malcolm X, not me. Nevermind.

"Darts of Pleasure" Franz Ferdinand - Driving North on the FDR.

"Wouldn't It Be Nice" Beach Boys - This one is a memory. Probably one of the best moments of my life, actually. It was our last day in LA two summers ago. Laying out by the pool on the rooftop of the Hyatt on Sunset. Sun beating down. Book in hand. You could hear kids playing in the pool. Headphones on. Song starts up. The instant the drum comes in and I hear "Wouldn't it be nice if we were older" everything is right in the world.

"Machine Head" Bush - Making a right and a quick left from Oriole Street to Quake Lane on my way home. Driving alone for the first time after passing my driver's test.

"Closer" Nine Inch Nails - Sitting in Miss Pearson's Global Studies classroom. A girl in the hallway sings loudly "I want to fuck you like an animal." Everyone in the class laughs. Miss Pearson goes out and yells at the girl, sends her to the office.

"Two Becomes One" Spice Girls - My bedroom in high school. Nighttime. It comes on the radio immediately after I lose my virginity. All three of us laugh.

"Crazy Game of Poker" O.A.R. - In a frat house basement somewhere in Bucknell. Playing beer pong. Hammered. I don't remember the rules we were playing by, but I remember running across the beer soaked floor to try to grab a loose ball. "Poker" was on repeat for about an hour.

"Can I Get A" Jay-Z - The back of a SUV. Freshman year of college, home on break, heading up 59 to a horrible club called 'Facades' in Nanuet because they served minors. I'm sitting bitch.

"All Star" Smashmouth - Getting accepted to college. My first kiss. The first goal I scored in hockey. The first homerun I ever hit in baseball. The first time I touched a boob. Getting a job at MTV. Basically, every good memory in life is associated with Smashmouth. Is that normal?
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b at 12:49 PM

Monday, May 09, 2005

holy shit, I'm gonna be rich!
Okay, this is really out of nowhere, but it looks like I'm about to come into some big bucks! Seriously! Wow!

This morning I opened up the My Blog is Poop gmail box hoping to find some good old fashioned hate mail, but instead I was greeted by this. Check it out:

Dear
I am a member of the contract award committee,federal ministry ofpetroleum resources,Nigeria I am in search of an agent to assist us inthe tranfer of (usd 14.3m)and subsequent investment in your owncountry.

Kind of strange that he chose not to include my name after the word "dear," but I don't think that's anything to get suspicious over. Anyway, I'm not sure why I was chosen for this-- maybe he liked the thing I wrote about staring at chick's asses when they walk by-- but I am honored that out of everybody in this great country he wants ME to assist in the transfer of $14.3 million. Wow! It goes on:

you will be required to
(1) Asssist in the tranfer of the said sum
(2)Advise on lucrative areas for investment.
(3)Assist us in purchase of properties.
If you decide to render your service to us in this regard 20% of the total sum of usd14.3m will be for you.

Um, hello??? Do you have any idea what 20% of $14.3 is??? Me neither, but I'm guessing it's enough to finally buy a Segway! I'm sure you're thinking, man, you probably have to work really hard for that money, right? WRONG! Apparently, all I have to do is this:

You have to send the information:
(1)Your personal telephone/faxnumber and your Bank information including your Bank account. where the fund will be transfer into your nominated Bank account before the investment and please
reply:abundemark2000@katamail.com

Yours Faithfully
ABUNDE MARK

That's IT! Man, I wish I had my bank account number handy because that's all that separates me from 2.8 Million Dollars! I can't wait to email my boy Abunde to get the ball rolling. This email makes one thing Abunde-ntly (get it?) clear, I'm gonna be rich!

Next stop, millionaire-ville, riding around NYC on a Segway and throwing hundred dollar bills at homeless people with reckless abandon. Ka-CHING!
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b at 11:24 AM

Thursday, May 05, 2005

a year on the lower east side
Well, it's pretty official: I'm moving to the lower east side. A place where we originally weren't looking but where I always knew we'd end up.

I'm very excited, obviously, because I'm finally making the move from Brooklyn into Manhattan. But my soon-to-be roommate Brian is even more excited because he's coming up from a place even farther away than Park Slope-- Washington DC. Brian's always loved New York, and he's looking forward to taking this crazy city by storm. It's fun walking around with him because everything blows him away. We can't walk a block without him saying things like, "I've seen more pretty girls here in five minutes than I did in 2 years in DC," and, "It's crazy how diverse this city is, isn't it?" It's cute.

Being that we're moving in a couple of weeks, I thought I'd look ahead and try to figure out what's going to happen our first year living on the Lower East Side. Here it is:

JUNE
We move into our place. Brian and I spend the first month getting situated in our new neighborhood. We immediately seek out the essentials, like finding the best pizzeria, the cheapest grocery store, and the best cup of coffee. I brag to anybody who will listen that the move has cut my commute in half. Brian, meanwhile, decides that since he's in New York he should do something crazy. One day he swings by "Krops & Bobbers" on Orchard and leaves with a brand new Faux-hawk.

JULY
I still can't get over my short commute to work. I tell anybody who will listen that I've been more productive lately because of the extra 20 minutes of sleep per night that I've been getting. I swear that that extra 20 minutes really does make a difference. Brian starts smoking cigarettes again. He reasons that since we have such a great big deck it would be a shame if one of us didn't smoke. I can't argue that logic.

AUGUST
Brian and I start a band. Since he knows how to play guitar, he's the lead guitar player. Since I don't know how to play anything, I'm the drummer. We take turns singing. Our goal is to get a few songs together by the Fall in order to start playing coffee houses. We name the band "The Weeds." Oh yeah, I should probably mention that we have started smoking pot fairly regularly.

SEPTEMBER
Brian starts spending a lot of his time with a guy named Dizzy. Brian and Dizzy met at Orchard Bar on a random Sunday night and bonded over a a mutual love of playing guitar and smoking pot. Dizzy's dreadlocks inspire Brian to not get another haircut until he too can be a white guy with dreads. Meanwhile, I use all my vacation days up before I decide that I will stop doing drugs at once. Since I am strong willed, I quit without a problem.

OCTOBER
I come home one day to find that Brian has traded our TV for some turntables and a box of old records. He tells me that he thinks he's found his true calling, and promises to replace the TV in a couple of months when he's a rich and famous DJ. Not surpisingly, he loses interest in DJ'ing by the end of the month. I miss my TV.

NOVEMBER
Now that I'm a month sober, I begin to resent Dizzy. He sleeps on our couch six out of seven nights a week and I'm not entirely sure he actually has a home. Brian and Dizzy do nothing but smoke weed and watch Owen Wilson movies on Brian's new laptop (which I'm not sure where he got the money to buy.) They are completely fascinated by Owen's nose, and engage in marathon discussions about whether it has helped or hurt his career. They usually pass out before they arrive at an answer.

DECEMBER
After a long night of drinking with Dizzy, Brian breaks his nose. With a hammer. It doesn't help.

JANUARY
Brian trades in his turntables for a German Sheppard named Adolph. Not surprisingly, the dog hates me. Also not surprisingly, Brian loses interest in the dog two weeks after bringing him home, forcing me to take care of it. I use my lunch breaks to rush home and walk Adolph even though Brian still doesn't have a job or anything to do during the day. My boss begins to notice that I've been "flaky" lately. I know I'm on thin ice. There is a bright side, though: Dizzy disappears. I never ask Brian what happened to him, and honestly I don't care.

FEBRUARY
I spend the first two weeks of the month behind bars. It turns out that after trading in my TV, Brian hooked up illegal cable in our apartment for some reason. Since the cable was under my name, I take the fall. When I finally get out my girlfriend Christie breaks up with me. She says that she could never be with a guy who spent time in jail becuase they're not trustworthy. I try to convice her that it was really Brian's fault, but she cuts me off by saying, "You're a criminal. I don't believe a word you say." I'm devastated. To make matters worse, Adolph is dead because Brian forgot to feed him for two weeks. This affects me in ways I never thought it would. For the first time in my life I start smoking.

MARCH
Christie and Brian start seeing each other. She declares that she likes him because he kind of looks like me but at least he's not a criminal. One day when I'm out on our deck smoking a cigarette I accidentally look into Brian's room to see them going at it. I put out my cigarette, run into the kitchen, grab a knife, and cut myself. It's the first time I've ever done this, but believe me, it won't be the last.

APRIL
I'm officially a cutter like Frankie from The Real World: San Diego. Even though the weather is getting nicer I'm forced to wear long sleeves all the time. Brian on the other hand has a brand new wardrobe courtesy of his new steady girlfriend Christie. I avoid the apartment at all costs. One Tuesday afternoon, after calling in sick to work, who approaches me at the bar where I was drowning away my pain in alcohol? Dizzy. We catch up and eventually return to my apartment to smoke a bowl. I decide that Dizzy's not that bad of a guy.

MAY
I lose my job. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get fired at VH1? Really hard. I spend the month of May drinking. One night Brian comes home and announces that he found God and that he's converting from Judaism to Christianity. He decorates the apartment with crucifixes and signs that read "2000 Years Ago A Carpenter Created The World." Immediately after converting he proposes to Christie and she accepts.

JUNE
Our lease is up and I move back home. My mom welcomes me with open arms despite my debt, scars, and $200 a day cocaine habit. Brian renews the lease to the Lower East Side apartment, Christie moves in, and they waste no time converting my old room into an office. Dizzy also dies in June when he accidentally steps on the third rail trying to run from platform to platform at the 2nd Avenue F stop. Years later, Brian and Christie name their first born Dizzy. When I hear the news I cut myself... because it's the only way I can feel.

So there you have it. Move in day is just a couple of weeks away. Boy, I can hardly wait!
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b at 2:41 PM

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

2 bedroom, no fee, blah blah blah blah blah
I've been on craigslist all damn day looking for a new apartment. Here's what I've figured out so far:

cozy = tiny
cute = tinier
adorable = tiniest
great neighborhood = horrible apartment
up and coming neighborhood = absolutely terrifying neighborhood
open minded neighborhood = Chelsea
fee = large fee
no fee = fee
by owner = sexual favors expected
a short hop to the subway = 8 + blocks
great landlord = drug dealing landlord
nice neighbors = drug friendly neighbors
2 bedroom = 1 and a half bedrooms
converted 2 bedroom = 1 bedroom and a closet
HUGE 2 bedroom = 2 actual bedrooms, but barely
large deck = deck
deck = fire escape
close to all the bars = right above the bars
sun drenched = a window, maybe 2
unique apartment = technically doesn't qualify as an apartment
great broker = a very sketchy broker, most likely an ex-felon
it won't last = we really hope it won't last... somebody has to be tricked into renting it eventually.

I'm off to an open house. Wish me luck.
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b at 5:53 PM

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Make Your Own Coachella Blog Post

Wow, I just got back from Coachella, and let me be the first to say that it was {GREAT!/AMAZING!/deck}.

I got to Cali late Friday night. We wanted to keep things low key, but after {doing some lines/pounding some beers/snorting some Vicodin} we decided to hit the town. I'm not sure what happened, but the next thing I know it's 2 o'clock in the afternoon and my phone is ringing off the hook. My friends are all, "Dude, we need to head to Indio now, the show's about to start and I really don't want to miss {insert completely unknown band that had the misfortune of playing first on Saturday here}! They're like the best thing since the Arcade Fire!

So we get to the fairgrounds, and let me tell you, it was {beautiful/unlike anything/deck}. We headed straight to the mainstage to see the Raveonettes, even though I don't like a single thing they've done since their EP. We stuck around for a few songs before we headed over to check out Peretz. Man, that Perry Ferrell is really {talented/fucked up/Jewish}. Gotta love him.

Flash forward to that night. I'm completely {shitfaced/dehydrated/rolling my ass off} and feeling no pain whatsoever. I ended up making out with a 16 year-old emo girl as the sun was setting, right when Rivers Cuomo belted out "Your son is drowning in the bloooooooood." It was {hot/surreal/illegal}. After yelling "play something off Pinkerton!" we headed over to the Mojave tent to see Bloc Party. Believe it or not, I had never seen them live before, so I was shocked to find out that the lead singer is so {cool/energetic/black}. I'm down with that.

After BP (as I like to call them) we headed to some nearby hotel where {Carlos D/Andy Dick/Zach Braff} was having an afterparty. It was 'aight.

Sunday. I woke up with a massive headache, which seems to be becoming a pattern {LOL!/:-)/kill me}. I told my boys that no matter what, I had to see {the Shout Out Louds/Kasabian/the Futureheads} and I'd consider the trip a complete waste if I didn't. Unfortunately, it was already 4pm and I missed them all. Fuck. We threw on some clothes and rushed to the fairgrounds and made it there just in time to see The Arcade Fire. I was a big AF fan before {Funeral came out/they started making videos/you were} so obviously I had already seen them live a million times before, but this time was different. Maybe this is the K talking, but it was a religious experience. Truly.

Speaking of religious experiences, I think I can die now. I FINALLY got to see New Order live. I've loved those guys since {I was a kid/I first heard The Killers/somebody told me I was supposed to} and needless to say, they didn't disappoint. I left after their set because I had an early flight home. No worries, I heard that Bright Eyes {sucked/sucked/sucked} anyway. So whatever.

All in all, though, great time. I saw some great bands, made out with some great chicks, and did some great drugs. Coachella 2005 will go down in history as the {greatest weekend of my life/greatest concert I've ever been to/place where Carlos D gave me herpes} and because of that I'll never forget it.
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b at 3:37 PM

Monday, May 02, 2005

the sports gals
I should probably start this post of by saying that I love women. Yeah. I should probably just throw that out there up front. Okay.

Now, over the years I've had several girls come up to me and ask me the same question, and no, the question isn't, "How do you go through life being so painfully good looking?" believe it or not. Actually, the question is "Hey Bob, do guys think it's hot when a girl is into sports?" I think this is a fairly common question, and I'm sure most guys have been asked it at some point or another by a female friend. The knee-jerk response is "Of course," because a guy will automatically picture himself sitting on the couch drinking a beer and watching football while his insanely hot imaginary girlfriend (who loves sports) is sitting Indian style next to him in an oversized NY Jets jersey and short-shorts with a bowl of pretzels between her legs and a backwards cap, yelling, "Let's go guys, we need a touchdown!" Right? In fact, I just got a little hard typing that.

That's the fantasy. In reality, though, it's not that great. When a girl is SUPER into sports it can actually be a turn off. Now, on the other side of the spectrum, when a girl doesn't know anything about sports it can be a turn off as well. Why? Because it can get really, really annoying. "Yes honey, we scored. No baby, in baseball they score runs, not points. Why is he out? Because he hit a fly ball and somebody caught it, that's why. Yes, they only get three outs, I told you that the last time they were up. No, I'm not raising my voice. I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

When it comes to girls and sports the middle ground is key. The area between Annoying and Unattractive.

On one end, it's cute when a girl thinks a touchdown is worth 7 points but it's annoying when a girl asks, "How come they're kicking the ball, why don't they just score?" On the other end, it's great when a girl yells at the TV, "Keep running, go, go!" but it's unattractive when she's yelling, "Oh, c'mon Ref! That was holding! Did you guys see that??? He was definitely being held! Where's the flag?!?"

So how do you know if a girl falls in the middle, and she's not skewing too far on one end of the spectrum or the other? Here are some guidelines to figure it out.

Girls should know the teams. She doesn't need to know every team in every league, but saying something like, "The Knicks? They play baseball, right?" is never good. Even as a joke, it's not funny. The same goes for yelling "Touchdown!" during a basketball game or "Homerun!" during a football game.

It's always great when a girl wears a sports jersey. It doesn't matter if she could care less about the Arizona Diamondbacks but loves the way that their team colors accentuate her eyes, that's fine. As long as she never uses the word "pretty" to describe it, everything's kosher.

In New York, rooting for the Yankees is hot but rooting for the Mets is not. Rooting for the Mets shows that a girl is trying a little too hard. Besides, pinstripes are slimming. Why do you think Jason Giambi looks all skinny now?

A girl should know the rules. Not all of them, but the basic stuff. We will gladly answer questions-- actually, we love answering questions-- but there's a line that a girl shouldn't cross. While it's okay if she doesn't understand offsides and holding, it's not okay if she doesn't know how many balls it takes to issue a walk or how many strikes in a strike out. Everybody had gym class in high school, there's a minimal amount of knowledge that must have sunk in.

Hockey knowledge is completely unnecessary, specifically because the sport no longer exists.

When a girl moves to a new city it's perfectly acceptable for her to start rooting for a local team. In fact, it's preferred. However, if she starts dating a guy that went to a rival college it is NEVER okay for her to start rooting for his school. That line should never be crossed.

Liking a player because he's cute is okay. Liking a player because he has a nice ass is okay. Liking a player because he plays the game right is okay. Liking a player because you fucked him in college is not.

Finally, the perfect sign of a middle girl? When you want to reschedule a date because of a game she gives you a hard time about it, but ultimately understands.

I'm sure there are more guidelines, but those were the first ones that popped in my head. If you have any more, please share. And if you want to yell at me for being a horrible misogynist, before you hit 'send' just remember: I'm only trying to help. This blog may be poop, but deep down, it's all about love.

And I love you all. Good to be back.
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b at 1:04 PM