Since You've Been Gone
I haven't posted in over week -- undoubtedly my longest non-vacation dry spell of the modern era -- so I thought I'd fill you in on what I've been up to that has kept me from poop. You'll see, it's really important stuff.
- I watched the He-Man and She-Ra Christmas Special DVD. It's the first time I've seen it since '85, and it was amazing. It made me realize that I missed a lot the first time I saw it. Like, the manicure joke probably went over my head. Oh, and I probably overlooked the fact that the bad guys rode around in a dildo-shaped ship and that He-Man and She-Ra wanted to bang each other. It's much more obvious now. As far as the incest goes, hey, sure it's weird here on Earth, but maybe it's normal on Eternia. Don't judge people. Don't judge.
- I started DVR-ing episodes of "Saved by the Bell." I've noticed that as the years have gone by and I've engaged in fewer and fewer Saved by the Bell themed conversations, my memory of the show is slipping. So, I decided to start watching them again as not to get too rusty. Thus far the only episode to earn the coveted "Save Until I Delete" status has been the one where Zack and Slater throw down. What an episode! Zack v. Slater was even more lopsided than Pearl Jam v. Candlebox, yet somehow the match ends in a draw. Next time it's on TBS watch it.
- I wandered around Soho looking for Jessica Alba. I wish I was kidding. Last week I went to the Apple store in Soho to finish up my holiday shopping. While I was on line I overheard the cashier talking to her friend. "Oh, you just missed it," she said. "Jessica Alba was here five minutes ago." Jackpot. After rushing out of the store I wandered aimlessly around the neighborhood for about half an hour trying to find her. Sadly, no luck. This is what happens when I'm off from work for a couple of weeks. I need a life.
- I cleaned my apartment. And I'm talking clean. Like, I no longer have to line the toilet seat before I sit down clean. (okay, I'm kidding, the bathroom wasn't that bad. Close, but not that bad.)
- I stayed sober. Granted, when I was home with the family I wished I was drunk, but I never hit the bottle. The lack of alcohol over the past week and a half is bound to hurt me on New Years Eve. I'm already scared.
- I've grown a beard. Because that's what you do in the winter when you're not working (Men only)
- I've come really close to painting my room. No, I haven't done it, but I've been talking about it. I'd like to do it soon, but I just think I'm underprepared. I've never painted anything before and I know I'm going to screw it up. I feel like I should watch a day's worth of Queer Eye or one of those home makeover shows before I even think about it. I need help. Actually, what I need is a cute girl who knows what she's doing to come over and do it with me- that we we can get all dirty together and have 'let's fool around until the paint dries' sex. Umm... Have I mentioned I haven't been out much in the past week?
- The Post Show DVD. It's almost done. It's going to be great. Today I get to decide which skits from our college TV show "Pregame" to put on it. The one where I'm half-naked in the shower pouring maple syrup on myself? Yeah, that's not going to make the cut. You're welcome.
- Finally... okay, this is has nothing to do with what I've been up to, I just have to ask: Am I the only person in America who didn't know that
Brokeback Mountain takes place in the 60's? The
1960's?? Maybe I should have done a little more research, but I had no idea. All I kept on hearing about was this gay cowboy movie, so I thought it was going to be... you know... a gay cowboy movie. But come on! It's supposed to take place 40 years ago! That's not a gay cowboy movie, that's just... gay.
Alright, that's all. Time to watch this morning's Saved by The Bells. I wonder who's going to win the school song competiton? I'm rooting for Screech.
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b at 8:51 PM
party time
You heard me. Party time.
Okay, so here's the deal. The first season of
the Post Show is over. We have 20 skits-- most of which are kind of funny-- so we decided it'd be fun to throw them on a DVD and have a big old Post Show DVD Release Party before we start working on Season 2. Not a bad idea, huh?
We want you to come. It should be a really good time. We're having it at the same place we had the launch party-- Croxley Ales-- because we fear change. That, and because the owners are really cool and accommodating. AND because they have a ton of beers on tap. Mmm. Beer.
Now, January 7 isn't just the date of the DVD Release Party-- it's also my birthday. So even if you hate the Post Show, you should come out January 7 to spend my birthday with me. Unless you hate me too. In which case I have to ask, why the fuck are you still reading?
But anyway, come out and celebrate on the 7th. And pick up the DVD while you're there. It'll be super cheap and have a ton of bonus features. I'd give you more details, but I'm working on it right now and who knows how much I'll screw up before it's all said and done. Just know it's going to be cool.
Okay. So party. January 7. Croxley Ales. Git R Done.
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b at 3:06 PM
I'm Not A Lesbian, But I'd Totally Hook Up With Angelina Jolieby Every Fucking Woman on the Planet
Okay, so let me just start by saying I'm not a lesbian. Ew. Sorry, I don't mean ew like ewww. I just mean that I'm not into girls. I mean, I can appreciate the female body and I can appreciate a beautiful woman, but that's just not my thing. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I have a friend from high school who's a lesbian, and I'm like totally cool with it. But I like men. I have no interest in being with a woman sexually, okay. Now, with that being said, I'd just like to announce that I love Angelina Jolie and I would totally eat the shit out of her if I ever had the chance.
Now, you have to believe me when I say that she's the ONLY girl I'd hook up with. Like, the only girl on the planet. I've never hooked up with a girl before, and I don't think I would unless it was Angelina. I remember this one time after making out with my best friend Rachel to get free shots at Senor Frog's in Cabo I thought, "Her lips were soft, but imagine what Angelina's are like" and it got me so turned on. At least, I think that's what turned me on. It could have been the kamikaze shots or my two girlfriends grinding on my ass on the dancefloor all night, I really can't be sure. It was probably Angelina, though, because I'm definitely not a lez. Eww.
Ohmygod, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say Eww again. Honestly, I'm like super sensitive to that stuff. One of my best friends is gay, and I'm like totally supportive of his lifestyle. We go shopping together and give each other Cosmo quizzes and talk about hot guys, and I think it's like completely normal. We both think Matthew McConaughey is like the hottest thing on two legs... well, except for Angelina. I'd much rather wrap her legs around my head and give her a grade A tongue bath than have sweaty man sex with Matthew, but that definitely doesn't make me gay.
Guys love it when I say I want to hook up with Angelina Jolie. They probably imagine us together and get all turned on and stuff. That's fine by me. Most guys will ask if there are any other celebrities I'd get nasty with, but the answer is always No! Well, except for a few years ago when I would have bumped donuts with Britney Spears. But that's it. Come on, she was so hot in "I'm A Slave 4U," all sweaty and sexy and stuff. Who wouldn't want to bury their face in that lap?? I would have. Guys also always assume that I'd want to hook up with Jessica Alba too because she looks like a cross between Angelina and Jesse Metcalf, but no. Not interested. It's Angelina or it's nothing.
My boyfriend and I actually have an "arrangement" where if either of us ever met Angelina we could have sex with her and it wouldn't count as cheating. But if that ever happened I'd be so jealous... of him!
I know a lot of other girls think it's cool to say they want to hook up with Angelina, but I don't think they're serious. I think they're just saying it. I, on the other hand, mean it. I mean, have you ever seen Gia??? Man, I swear I've masturbated to that movie like a thousand times.
God, I hope I don't sound like a total bull dyke when I say I want to lick Angelina's soft nipples and rub my fingers up and down her clit. Or that I want to bury my face in her lap and eat her out for hours on end. Or that I want to be inside her both figuratively and literally. Because I'm totally not a lesbian. I'm just one for Angelina.
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b at 5:58 PM
The WWF Made Me Racist
I, like many guys my age, grew up loving professional wrestling. Don't laugh. I did.
I've written about it before and I'm sure I'll write about it again, because from the ages of 7 to about 14 pro wrestling was a HUGE part of my life. Saturday mornings- right after soccer games or Little League (and after 'Saved by The Bell' and before American Gladiators) I was watching the WWF. When Monday Night Raw premiered on USA in its bizarre half talk-show/ half wrestling show format, I was watching. And, thanks to the miracle of illegal cable, I was guaranteed something to do four nights a year: The Royal Rumble, Wrestlemania, Summer Slam, and Survivor Series. I looked forward to those nights then like somebody without a sense of humor looks forward to Aaron Karo emails now. I couldn't wait.
The amount of brain matter I currently waste remembering stuff from wrestling is humiliating. I shouldn't know that The Undertaker hailed from Death Valley, California. I shouldn't remember the details of the Jake The Snake / Rick "The Model" Martell blindfold match, but I do. I wish I could remember people's names four seconds after shaking their hands instead of remembering that Kamala the Ugandan giant often forgot to roll his opponents onto their backs before trying to pin them and as a result lost several close matches. But I can't. And I wish I didn't remember crying when Earthquake killed Damien. The snake. But I do. Because I did.
There's something to be said about the fact that I remember these wrestling characters and these wrestling storylines, because I know I'm not the only one. I'm part of a generation of wrestling fans who grew up with the WWF, and as a result view the world in a slightly different way. For example, we're perfectly aware that Everybody Has A Price. We understand that there's no better country in the world than the U.S.A.-- take that Canada-- and we know to be on our best behavior if we Ever Meet A Man Down in Cobb County, Georgia. And, thanks to the WWF we all know that Asian men carry salt around in their hands and use it to blind people by throwing it in their eyes. We just know.
Want to know what else we know? Well, we know that black people are incapable of doing anything except working in a junkyard (The Junkyard Dog), acting as a manservant to a wealthy white guy (Virgil), or walking around in hot pink jumpsuits while carrying a bird (Koko B. Ware). Oh, and if you're a black guy from Africa you're also completely unaware of how to properly pin somebody in the squared circle. And you probably have stars painted on your chest. Probably.
Is there more? Well, we know that Iranians and Iraqis are essentially the same: Evil. Or, in the case of the Iron Sheik, literally the same since he started out hailing from Iran, but inexplicably became Iraqi during the Gulf War. Thanks to the WWF I learned that British people are unbearably snobbish (Hunter Hearst Helmsley before he dropped the accent and became Triple H), I learned that people from the south are either inbred (Hillbilly Jim) or evil (Skinner), and I learned that homosexuals are really, really creepy (Golddust... or any other wrestler that wore nothing but a tight pair of spandex, actually.)
Want even more? Canadians are evil (Brett Hart after his heel turn), Mexicans are either bull fighters ('El Matador' Tito Santana) or gigantic (Giant Gonzalez), you can't trust the Russians (The Bulshevicks), the French are arrogant (Martell), Australians lick people's heads (The Bushwhackers), Native Americans do silly dances (Tatanka), people from Brooklyn are scumbags (The Brooklyn Brawler), and Jews are mediocre and completely self-congratulatory (Barry Horowitz.)
It's amazing I've never committed a hate crime, right?
I'm not sure how Vince McMahon was able to get away with this back then. If you look at the WWF, er, WWE now, it's much better. I think. I mean, I haven't watched in years, but I know The Rock was a champion and he was kind of black, so things must be on the upswing. I hope they are. Because the last thing we need is another generation of men who shield their eyes every time they walk by an old Asian guy on the street. Like I do. Because hey, you never know when they're going to throw salt in your eyes.
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b at 4:53 PM
the terrible 2's
Everything seemed to come in pairs last night. Everything.
I realized today that everything I drank, I had
two of.
Two Jack & Cokes,
two Captain & Cokes,
two Gin & Tonics,
two Red Bull & Vodkas,
two Coronas,
two Soco & Lime shots, and
two Jaeger Bombs. This was not planned.
Two people recognized me from the blog and said hi.
I attempted to get something to eat
twice, but both times I was pulled aside by somebody and got distracted.
I saw
two MTV personalities last night: Andy Milonakis and the girl who hosts TRL that's not Vanessa. After seeing her in person, I have vowed to never call her The Poor Man's Vanessa again (and I have also vowed to learn her name. Eventually.)
I told
two people that I wanted to punch Andy Milonakis in the face. They both advised me not to.
There were
two girls I saw who I described to whoever was standing next to me as "absolutely perfect. Completely my type." Both turned out to be interns.
Several songs were played
twice, including My Humps, Gold Digger, and the Milkshake song (happy 2k4!).
I was approximately
two hours late for work today. I believe this is better than the company average.
I remember promising
two friends that I would email them a link to
The Post Show because they said they've heard so much about it. Unfortunately I don't remember who.
Thanks to the people walking around taking polaroids, I have
two pictures to help me remember the evening. I am attempting to kiss the person I'm photographed with in both of them. My friend Vanessa in one, and my friend Nelson in the other.
With everybody on the dance floor drunk and rubbing my head, my hair blew up to
twice its normal size.
I got home exactly at
2. Which I guess seems early, but that's what happens when you start at 8.
Two advils this morning. 'Nuff said.
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b at 2:48 PM
Holi-Day, Holi-Nights
I'm in that weird place right now. Have you ever told somebody you'd call them, but then you don't make the call in a reasonable amount of time. So you start feeling weird about it. And you keep putting it off and you keep putting it off. And the more you put it off the weirder you feel about it, so you finally have to decide: am I going to call this person, or are they going to be out of my life forever? Has that ever happened to you? Well, that's how I feel right now with this blog. But I'm back.
It's been one of those weeks. I've been ill. Not sick-sick, but annoying cold sick. The kind of sick where when you breathe in through your nose it burns and you wonder if this is how it would feel if you didn't have any nose hairs. And the kind of sick where you know you're not going to pass out but you still find yourself thinking thoughts like "I wonder what would happen if I passed out right now." That kind of sick.
All week I've been trying to will myself healthy for tonight. You see, tonight is the MTV-Networks Holiday Party, which is the reason everybody likes working here. This is what we work for. It's held at the Hammerstein Ballroom
(where I saw Oasis AND Ben Folds Five in 1997- what a year) and it's filled to the brim with thousands of MTV employees. There's a ton of food that everybody wants to eat but nobody does, and a ton of alcohol that everybody wants to drink and everybody does. Since Viacom picks up the tab, you try to drink your way to six figures
(Drink your way to six figures = Consume Enough Alcohol Where The Cost Would Equal The Difference Between Your Salary and $100,000). This is why the executives go home early and the PA's are taken out in stretchers. Every year.
There are people I work with who have been so defeated in the past that they have to come up with ways to trick themselves into not drinking themselves into oblivion tonight. I have more than one friend who has arranged a doctor's appointment or organized a meeting for early Friday morning in order to ensure they don't overdo it. I predict a lot of missed doctor's appointments and cancelled appointments tomorrow.
I have a great time every year. My first year at MTV I got hammered and followed Sway around for a while. We have a ton of pictures of Sway dancing with his friends, and me, standing right behind him with a big drunken smile on my face. I'm going to try to leave him alone this year, but no promises.
Tonight is really the one night of the year that I dance my everloving ass off. I mean, there are usually a few other instances over the course of a year where I'm put in a dancing situation, but the MTVN Holiday party is the only night where I look forward to it. Of course, since I'm a still recovering from the cold and my equilibrium's off I'm not promising any big things-- so if you see flopping around the dance floor like a retarded sea bass in a rowboat, don't judge me.
I've already decided that this year I'm going with the Don't Say Bye technique to get out alive. It's the safest bet, and I happen to be a big advocate of it. The Don't Say Bye is flawless in a company party setting-- when you're ready to go just BOLT and don't say goodbye to a single person. If you're going to do it, do it right. Commit. You can't say goodbye to some people because then it gets weird. It's all or nothing. Leaving is always tricky. My first year I wasn't living in the city yet, so I was staying with a friend who lived on the East side. When I left the party I started walking/stumbling East towards (I think) his place. After making it a few blocks I had one of the worst ideas I've ever had in my life-- "I'm just gonna lay down on the sidewalk for a sec. Just a second. I'm tired. I'll get right up. So I'm just gonna lay down right here." I got down on one knee before I realized Holy Shit, this is how I die. So I stood up and kept trucking. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if I didn't.
Last year I lucked out. At the time of the party I was seeing a girl who lived around the corner from the Hammerstein. So when it was time to go I stumbled towards her place, pulled out my cell phone and attempted to call her. I couldn't do it. I couldn't operate my phone. As I stood there dumbfounded by the little buttons I was tapped on the shoulder. It was her. She was outside smoking a cigarette and watching me try to figure out how to hit 'send.' Thank god she was there, otherwise it could have resulted in another night sleeping on the sidewalk.
Well, tonight there will be none of that. No sidewalk sleeping. I hope.
Okay, so I need to go grab some dinner before we head over. I'm not going to fall for the "they have food, we'll eat there" trick that results in me getting drunk after 5 gin & tonics and attempting to make out with a coworker by midnight. I'm going to try to make it until at least 2 this year.
I'll be back tomorrow. Maybe. If I can type, I will post and let you know how everything went. Wish me luck. And Happy Holidays indeed.
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b at 5:29 PM
i'd rather dance with you
I've decided that the sole purpose of
The Post Show is to trick people into thinking that I'm a really good dancer.
Remember the Bob Ross skit? Somehow, some way, it actually looks like I successfully pulled off the worm while breakdancing in Times Square
(side note: I permanently screwed up my elbow when I dropped down and landed on a metal grate at the end. It still hurts when touch it, and that happened more than a month ago. The things I do to get a laugh.) Well, in today's skit there's some more dancing where - for a second - it looks like I know what I'm doing. I can assure you I don't.
So go watch
The Breakup and let me know what you think.
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b at 4:33 PM
