Fantasy Facebook Team

This is a post that you jocks or jockettes out there who love football to the point where you play fantasy (ha, don't worry, I myself play fantasy football as well). For all the geeks out there just replace any reference to fantasy football with Dungeons and Dragon nerd references.

Ready to join this bush league?

Welcome rookie to the inaugural draft of your Fantasy Facebook Team, finally your time has arrived after listening to your friends go on and on and on endlessly about how awesome it is play fantasy, which in this case is Facebook. Unlike real fantasy sports (which are still fantasy) you will not actually compete to win money but simply have your personal information sold to 3rd parties by commissioner Zuckerberg controller of the league, while you whittle away at time, checking to see if anyone liked your post (like I will be doing after I post this). Either way, you'll be pleased as you build a winning dynasty showing how awesome you are by the amount of players you have collected in your friends list to play on your team. Good luck!

The starting line up of your fantasy Facebook team are those in your friends list who entertain you with cutesy anecdotes or music video posts featuring bands you listened to back in the day while you experimented with the occasional narcotic. They are starters for a reason because they bring their "A" game with all of their newsfeed activity giving you a reason to return to Facebook and divvy out "like"s left and right. You probably actually see your starters in your real life, such as meeting them at the Friday night spot on some corner where you grab a pint of something or other, chatting for awhile with them about home brew before stumbling out the door to prepare for the forthcoming Saturday morning hang over.

use your imagination to
make the eyes move

If you have starters on your fantasy team then surely you have players sitting on your bench waiting for the potential opportunity to start. Your bench consists of those friends who simply come in for a play, or perhaps when a starter is out of action, post a comment or proceed to give you one of those annoying pokes (whoever came up with the poke is an ass, just sayin) then sits back down for rest of the game which in this case since it's Facebook could be days to months. Nothing's wrong with being a bench warmer but these friends equate to one of those paintings on Scooby Doo where the eyes follow you back and forth while never saying anything, only to creep you out knowing that even though they aren't commenting they are watching you (I myself, warm the bench on various fantasy Facebook teams so warmer so fellow bench warmer you are not alone).

taste one for the team

Just like fantasy football, Facebook too has the free agency as well as the waiver wire. Free agents are like free samples at Costco where you enjoy a taste and if you enjoy that taste you can add that item to your shopping cart, but in this case you simply send them an invite asking them to join your friends list squad. Of course, the flip side to the coin is you can easily release your friends to the waiver wire, especially when their point of view is too fanatical to the point where you want to kick them out of a third story window onto a bed of spikes because it's the totally opposite of your own point of view. Simply, the people you may have known 20 years ago are not the person you have on your squad now and so they have to go. Hey, if you aren't performing you get cut from the team and if you're not lucky it could be with a knife (just kidding).

Your fantasy Facebook squad is looking tight!! You have made all of the right moves and are sitting pretty with a bomb squad of people players who are there to propel you through your day of work with lol cat pictures and such. "Is hungry" and "is bored" are just two of the awesome posts that you are now going to read time and time again, Although when the game is a close one, the chance is always there that one of your substitutes will come off the bench and drop some crazy 80's song lyric from high school making you relive some awkward moment thus winning the fantasy Facebook championship even though there isn't ta championship to be won in the first place.

Game on!

Knock Knock. Who's there? OH, shi.....

Trying to make a buck

This morning, rap rap rap was the sound emanating from my front door along with multiple buzzes of my door bell. The four of you that actually read my blahg that have been to my home tucked far away on the fringe of the industrial side of my neighborhood know that one does not simply walk into Mordor, or in this case my home. Nothing frightens me more (actually a lot of things frighten me more) than dressing for work and hearing the door bell ring out beaconing for me to answer it's call.

Meowssage

As the situation played out I froze like a deer in headlights, the equivalent of a pedestrian freezing in front of an approaching cyclist when they've stepped out of turn into the bike lane. My heart raced like that of a business man whose massage at an illegal massage parlor was just interrupted by cops as he was about to receive his ending, which in this case  not so happy. My first thoughts were that I forgot to pay a bill and they have come a collecting or maybe the person simply wrung the wrong bell as they attempted to reach my landlord who lives above (neither were the case as you'll soon find out).

Not actually me

Turning the television down so not to allude to my presence,
I crept ninja like to the window peering out between my venetian blinds to see who was rap rap rapping at my door. It was not the raven for ever more (not even close), but New York's finest, those boys in blue, the New York city police department. "Oh fu.....K, what did I do that I was not aware of?!!" ran through my feeble mind upon realizing who was attempting to meet me face to face. Seriously, I could not simply ignore this visitor. As I looked through the slates of my blinds I realized that they were roving from door to door (not unlike Christmas carolers by the way) down my street, slightly relieving the anxiety that coursed through my veins. They were not here for me.

As I opened the front door poking my head out like a baby chick breaking out of it's shell,
I was greeted by an officer. Apparently, they were executing a warrant on the girl who lives next door. As the world turns, I am told this girl missed a court date and was not to be found (last thing I want are cops executing a warrant on me). All this time I have been living next door to a prostitute who sells her body on the internet (world's oldest profession in a modern times). I had no knowledge of this girl's where about's  and so I took the cops number and went back into my lair to finish getting ready for work, and that was that.

Anyways, how was your morning?

Snowbraaaaa!!

This has to be the worst blahg post I have written so far. Enjoy!

Glad my station is underground, haha!

Since time has sprung forward dangling a carrot of warm weather in our
faces making most New Yorkers as well as myself begin to think that Spring has begun to blossom only for this morning to be surprised and taken for a ride (but only if you didn't watch the weather). No sooner than writing a blahg post yesterday involving the subway the weather once again has turned dreary and the city is facing a potential blanket of snow.
It's almost as if the MTA called mother nature on her iphone and struck a deal with her to throw a tantrum and act miserable forcing me to ride the MTA miserably.

The 80's

You would think with our advances in technology, we would at
some point attempt to harness and control the weather like Cobra Commander tried to do during the 80's with his weather dominator
(The real 80's were awesome like Cindy Lauper to the left there, unlike the 80's revival we have been experiencing?). Watching the snow fall toward the sidewalk as I walked to the train this morning really makes me wish Cobra Commander along with his weather device were here to vanish this dismal weather. Unfortunately, Cobra Commander is a cartoon character and I'm simply day dreaming, wishing for better weather enabling me to bike to work, thus not granting our rat overlords (have you bothered to read that post yet?) a visit on the subway.

The Commander kicking it

Upon remembering Cobra Commander was in fact evil and would have jumped at the opportunity to join forces with the MTA and Mother Nature to ruin my day, I boarded the train hoping to not witness anyone shoveling pasta in their face while riding into Manhattan. Last thing I need is the inability
to move my arms on a packed train while having a food fight break out. Luckily no food fight broke out, but there was the infamous backpack guy, that person on the rush hour train who refuses to remove his backpack making less
room for those around him. Although if I had to choose,
I would prefer to have his backpack jammed into my back like a shiv than having to endure someone's stank pasta all over my face.

Normally when the weather is horrible as it is today, making it into work on time is thwarted like Cobra Commander's continuous attempts to rule the world. Why should any day be different. If I don't encounter any set backs while riding the train then it takes about the same amount of time it takes eating a bowl of cereal while watching an entire episode of
G.I. Joe thrashing the Commander himself. It's almost like setting a DVR to record your favorite show and then watching said show only to have the DVR cut off the last few minutes, but in the MTA's case they add minutes. Seriously, both instances are absolute
let downs.

Anyways, did any of this happened today? Maybe, maybe not, who am I to say. Does it snow in the city, does Cobra Commander always loose to G.I. Joe and when riding the train does it take longer than it should? The answer is yes, yes, and yes. Well now you know and knowing is half the battle.

GO JOE!!

The Spaghetti Incident

We here at the One Day Will be Farewell blahg (which is only yours truly) are continuing to play a bit of catch up from the past week of events that happened in the city. The City in which I dwell never ceases to amaze me and if you live here you know what I mean (wink, wink). New York city is a bottomless well of material to rant about and last week was seriously no different especially when it came to the subway.



I haven't a clue if you, the reader, have ever ridden on the MTA, but riding the train can be quite an adventure. The above video shows just one scenario that can play out for those who unfortunately open their mouth to the wrong group of girls in the wrong place at the wrong time. There is nothing more enjoyable than riding to work and bearing witness to pasta being tossed in someones face while the tossers friend repeats "Don't get in her face" over and over (I personally can't compete with that argument). Fortunately for us, someone with the technology was there to record the situation go down.

I will tell you this, if I witnessed those two girls sitting there and they began to annoy me, I would have to either a: sat there taking it like a man and ignoring it, or b: eject myself from the situation by moving away from the potential powder keg (or pasta in this matter) ready to blow. I have no idea why that woman even opened her mouth to complain, but she should have known that she was not dealing with one but two girls as soon as her lips parted like the red sea to voice the opinion she was soon to regret.

Waiting for next available table

Since this incident has spider webbed it's way across the internet and local television, the MTA is now contemplating the banning of food consumption on the subway. I personally don't take issue with this, but those who enjoy eating their meals while smelling garbage, body odor and urine while our rat overlords run around and poop at their feet may take issue. Would I feel bad eating my meal next to a homeless individual on the train who's passed out next to me dreaming of the meal I'm eating is not a question I never want to be in the position to ask myself.

Bon Appétit, my overlords

If the MTA actually proceeds to ban the consumption of food on the subway, then perhaps some will be pretty annoyed, but then again for most, the overall ride to work may become more enjoyable (although not soon enough for the lady in the video). If they do not go through with the ban then may be they can remove all of the seats so people can't throw their waste under them. Either way, I don't really care where people eat, if I have a problem I'll simply move away than put myself in an embarrassing situation like eating on the subway.

All of this leads me to reaffirm that riding my bike to work is more enjoyable than riding the train. Having to coexist with other people in a silver tube that propels itself through the underground realm of our rat overlords can be too troublesome for me.

St. Paddy's Day Past

I have returned. I felt I needed to stop writing for a while because of the events taking place in Japan. Watching everything unfold on television really makes anything I have to say trivial. Still I hope for Japan to have a speedy recovery. They are a strong nation and I know they will pick themselves up and recover. Still my thoughts continue to go out to those that have been affected by this travesty.

 St. Patrick's Day by Amauri Aguiar at flickr via Gothamist

This past Thursday was St. Patrick's Day, or St. Paddy's (not Patty with two T's) for those who are too lazy to say Patrick. As usual, I normally prepare for this occasion by taking the day of and the day after off. Why not take the day after off, I need to recover from a holiday that centers not around St. Patrick driving the snakes (no he did not speak parseltongue, and the snakes were actually pagans) out of Ireland, but of the time honored tradition of binge drinking. 

This year, the holiday started off with the consumption of an Irish Breakfast with my drinking crew. To my amazement it was rather delicious, just don't ask what black and white pudding is until after you eat it. Oh, be wary of any coffee drink that involves the addition of liquor to it because your coffee may turn from two dollars into twelve (yes, I was equally as shocked). With bellies now satisfyingly full, we were off and on our way.

After traveling via everyones' lateness provider known as the MTA, we arrived on the scene. If you simply enjoy watching people wave as they walk, then this is most certainly the parade for you. Everyone is Irish at the parade on St. Patrick's day including all of the revelers that douched their way in from Long Island, making the parade what it is today, Mardi Gras part deux.

via www.life.com

As is with every year, the parade was packed and a washed in a sea of green. This sea of green is mostly formed by drunken (understatement) roving packs of ____________ (insert your own made up name for these people) decked out in Irish Mardi Gras type beads, stately tall jester hats reminiscent of a Guinness and plastic bowler hats (I hope no ones head got caught on fire). By the way, I wore my own silly hat for the occasion. The only thing keeping these people from making it a total Mardi Gras type situation was the absence of boobage on display (this non-showing of the twins actually let me down).

I myself, unlike most I encountered during the holiday, enjoyed the day with pints of Guinness (nothing reeks of Irish more than Coors light, but who am I to judge). I will admit, I do feel on St. Patrick's day, drinking an Irish beer is the course of action, luckily for the Kegs and Eggs sect (link is slightly NSFW), Jameson is readily available, which more than makes up for their consumption of B(cr)ud and Coors as well as PBR for any boozed out hipster-chauns. For me and my own crew, a flask of 12 year old Redbreast was our whiskey on board. Mmmm, mmmm smooth!!

We hopped around to a few bars, never making a scene or asses out of ourselves. We found out that the Dropkick Murphy's and Flogging Molly along with the Pogues were the choice of many a bars music selection. We got to hang out with a real piper on 14th street, and made it home before the real danger set in, the 6pm fresh out of work crew and the 2nd wave of college drunken kids.

All and all, it was an enjoyable St. Paddy's day. Slainte!!

Help Japan

AP/Matt Dunham

It appears that it will be a long duration of time before Japan digs itself out from the affects from the earthquake and subsequent tsunami. Tack on the potential meltdown of the Fukushima plant (if meltdown hasn't occurred already), and the level of urgency elevates making the situation even more dire. People who were affected but who did not perish in the tsunami may have to the face the possibility of being contaminated from a potential fallout.

Again...
People in Japan need help whether they ask for it our not, as a human being why not help your fellow man.  The catastrophe in Japan is not going to simply disappear over night. You can help in relief efforts by going to the Redcross or text REDCROSS to 90999 to donate $10 from your phone. You can also go to Global living which has set up a relief fund that you can donate to towards helping the people in need there. For other options you can go to Huffpost, where they have a page with various organizations you can donate to. Yahoo also has a page here that may have a few more places you can donate and help. Let's all hope Japan a speedy recover from this devastating disaster.

Monday thoughts about Japan

photo via: http://images.mirror.co.uk/

I have to admit, the only catastrophe I ever witnessed and lived through was 9-11 (Yes, I realize that I can not compare the two and I'm not), I have never felt the tremors of a jishin (earthquake), never have I experienced a tsunami, so what I see on television seems very surreal to me. I'm just now beginning the grasp the reality of what is going on in Japan. That being said, I realize my life is quite insignificant when compared to the scope of the events transpiring in Japan and what mother nature can do at any given moment with no warning what so ever.

Since the initial quake, each new day unfurls a newer event that has occurred during our American evening, compounding to the already dire situation. Matters will more than likely worsen before anything begins to improve for our Pacific neighbors. Outside of donating to various charities, there are few things I can do except sitting here idly following the news, along with being here to talk to my girlfriend and numerous Japanese friends. I can not fathom how tough it must be for them being here in America, knowing what is taking place on their native soil, not being able to be there to help search for loved ones or friends that may have been lost or perished in this disaster.

The imagery coming in from Japan, whether on television or the internet is very heart wrenching. The magnitude of the devastation almost makes every image seem unreal and cinema like until you watch the videos taken by those living it. You will see the true the horror and sadness they just lived through. They will carry this with them the rest of their lives. When I see the pain and sadness in their eyes, it really takes any problem I have makes me realize it's nothing, and I'm right.

It's pretty easy to dismiss Japans situation when you have no emotional attachment like I've been witnessing with some of the Twitter trends over the weekend. Thousands of people are lost, missing, or simply have nothing now in their lives because of these events. Are people really that insensitive to someones misfortune that they can make light about what is going on in Japan? As people go about their daily lives, I hope they take a brief moment and think about if this had happened to them and their country, would they want people acting insensitive to their plight?

The events will not only affect Japan, but America and the rest of the world for many years to come. Economically and environmentally what is going to happen? Japan has third largest economy after America and China. Not only is Japan a large importer, but a large exporter as well, so what affects them will economically have an affect us in one way or another. And after the events of Chernobyl, the world knows of the environmental impact a nuclear fallout can do if any of Japan's nuclear reactors meltdown.

People in Japan need help whether they ask for it our not, as a human being why not help your fellow man.  The catastrophe in Japan is not going to simply disappear over night. You can help in relief efforts by going to the Redcross or text REDCROSS to 90999 to donate $10 from your phone. You can also go to Global living which has set up a relief fund that you can donate to towards helping the people in need there. For other options you can go to Huffpost, where they have a page with various organizations you can donate to. Yahoo also has a page here that may have a few more places you can donate and help. Let's all hope Japan a speedy recover from this devastating disaster.

Today's Event in Japan

Picture from: http://framework.latimes.com/

I am putting my normal ranting aside today, I will continue as usual come Monday.
I honestly feel my complaining about how terrible the MTA subway is, or how single
people will soon not have to worry about sleeping alone due to the upcoming bed bug infestation, appears absolutely meaningless when compared to what is taking place in
Japan this very moment.

Like myself, most people woke up this morning learning about the devastation that rocked Japan while America slept for the evening. The rest of our world, at some point or another today, will also learn the magnitude of what has transpired in Japan. As up to date status' unravel before our eyes whether through television, radio, print as well as internet, please take a moment and reflect on life and how fragile it can be, many people have lost their homes and lives today.

picture from http://www.bbc.co.uk/

I'm in absolute shock watching video of the tsunami laying waste over the northern coast of Honshu (For those unaware, Honshu is the main Island in the Japanese archipelago). The tsunami, as you know (if you are intelligent enough to comprehend the news), was triggered by a massive earthquake around 80 miles off the northern coast in the Pacific Ocean. This earthquake also happens to have been Japan's largest earthquake ever recorded and 5th largest in the world since 1900. As updates trickle in, I'm sure It will be weeks perhaps even months before we understand and grasp the total destruction that has taken place.

I have been to Japan a couple times so far in my short lifespan, and rest assured I can vouch for Japan and say what an amazing country as well as the people of that nation are. I have many friends including my better, more beautiful other half, who are from Japan and I think this is part of the reason I am very shocked and taken back by everything that has gone on down there. Just writing about this is very tough for me and I won't even be able to formulate half of what I'm thinking into this blog to make this post respectable.

Ok so I wasn't planning to rant, but the Asshole brigade has already stormed out the gate douching about on the internet, especially on Twitter. As of this moment as I am writing this Godzilla is trending, seriously? I can only assume that it's mostly insensitive people sitting behind a computer making light of something as real and serious as what is happening in Japan. I am very curious to know how these dick holes would feel if their families were swallowed up by an earthquake or drowned by a tsunami. It's one thing to rant about our subway system, but about peoples real pain and suffering, come on.

I will have to admit, Fox News was on top of things this morning (did I really just write that?). As much as I loathe the right leaning blabber machine, Fox were basically the only news outlet besides CNN to have any coverage of the events unfolding in Japan. You would have to think that something of this nature which will be in time affecting the world would be worth more covering than Lohan's day in court. This is what's wrong with America sometimes, there is a country reeling from the after affects of a devastating natural event, and news channels HLN are more concerned with covering some dime store celebrity's day in court, or Sheen.

Anyway back to the reality of what has occurred. The catastrophe in Japan is not going to simply disappear over night. You can help in relief efforts by going to the Redcross or text REDCROSS to 90999 to donate $10 from your phone. You can also go to Global living which has set up a relief fund that you can donate to towards helping the people in need there. For other options you can go to Huffpost, where they have a page with various organizations you can donate to. Let's all hope Japan a speedy recover from this devastating disaster.

This MTA Subway Isn't Eaten Fresh

Well, the rant I served you on a moldy platter yesterday has burned up in flames since I've discovered last evening, the Dropkick Murphy's show at the Roseland Ballroom is still going to transpire. This fabulous news meant that my commute to work would not be the normal commute by bicycle consisting of dodging pedestrians who can't turn their necks to see if a cyclist is rattling towards them in the bike lane, cabbies who love to pull in front of you hoping that you and your bike will slam into their trunk, or Johnny Law, whose ticketing blitz has all nyc cyclists on edge looking over their shoulder at every intersection. No, today I descend into the realm of our Rat overlords to ride the excuse the capitol of the world calls a subway, the MTA.

There is nothing like waking up in the morning knowing that even though you will leave your house on time, you will still arrive late for work. I occasionally think that I should just take the time, sleep in and watch the continuing cover of the upcoming royal wedding that I don't even care about than rushing only to be tardy because of the MTA. There is no better way to begin your commute to work than to be stuffed in an over crowded train car like a sardine ready to be opened and noshed on by ravenous Norwegians banging their heads to
death metal.

Via: Gothamist

With a plethora of odors emanating from every nook and cranny of the subway system, I am truly baffled when I see people eating in the catacombs that make up our dilapidated subterranean transit system. It saddens me at times, when I see on the L train a mother feeding potato chips (I prefer rippled) to her one year old "baby girl", then simply tossing the empty bag under the seat as if the world is her oyster and the train, her waste receptacle. Eating Mc Donald's (love me some fries) is bad enough as it is, but to be seen devouring Ronald's burger on the subway truly gives me the impression that you have given up on life.

via College Humor

Forget trying to grab a seat or grip a pole on this throttling cattle car to hell that's slower than an old man with a walker.
I would not want to be a small child when I see someone in sweatpants lean back on the pole right around where that child would grasp, only for the pole to disappear in the backdoor of their sweaty nether region, that pole must have more fecal matter on it than our national currency. (yes, wow indeed). The seats are not much better, perhaps if you are lucky you'll only sit in the sticky residue of some dried up soda, rather than some homeless persons left behinds. For more info on the homeless experience check the blog post of rich gone.

I can't even go into the situation of the stations themselves, or how disgusting people are, throwing any regard for those around them out of the closing door of the train car. Hey, mister, how about you blow your nose with a napkin or your sleeve instead of your hand before you grab something to hold on to as the train exits the station? Nothing better than being smashed up against some one while trying to play solitaire on your iphone one to have them breathing hot breath (I prefer cigarette breath over coffee) down the nape of your neck.

Traveling first class

Anyways, I've written this entire thing waiting on the L train in the tunnel connecting Hipsterburg to Manhattan, and it's begun to slowly move forward once again. As I patiently wait to get off the train, I can only think about the Dropkick Murphy's show tonight and be happy in the fact that soon enough I will return to my regularly schedule program of commuting by bicycle. Enjoy the train ride folks.



On a side note: I would like to thank the readers in Europe, Singapore as well as Vietnam who have continually been checking out my blog, I very much appreciate it. I'm amazed that someone around the globe has actually been reading the hot mess that I have been writing.

Fire Fire Roseland on Fire

Photo via @BalzerDesigns

Last night while laying in bed like I do every evening, I watched the news as I slowly passed out, purposely leaving the television on to increase my electric bill (I'm all about helping local businesses). I'm not entirely concerned if a fire burns down a building unless of course, it kills someone or leave a person homeless (neither are a good thing), but if it gets in the way of my obese American way of life then I have to take issue. The news stated, the Roseland Ballroom in NYC, was on fire which means the possible cancellation of the Dropkick Murphy's show I am to attend this coming Thursday. This news does not sit well with me at all.

Could use some ketchup

I get that cavemen accidentally discovered fire a few years ago, even though Billy Joel said "it was always burning since the world was turning". According to creationists, this discovery made cavemen extremely happy since it was now possible to burn the flesh off the dinosaurs who lived along side them, thus enabling them to consume their souls. Personally, if I were a caveman when fire was discovered, I would have been absolutely ecstatic knowing that I would  no longer have to ingest my triceratops deluxe burger (hold the onions) raw while catching a show at the Roserockland.

Hey scout want feel, I mean hear a story?

From bar-b-cues to marshmallows to torching of witches at the stake, fires have been blazing a path of destruction for quite sometime since its discovery by cavemen. Fire is an enjoyment for many people, for example: the Boy Scouts (total homophobes), who enjoy sitting around a hearty fire telling ghost stories and roasting the before mentioned witches, I mean marshmallows. Once the weekend hits, people (both legal & illegal) living in the city, enjoy a nice jaunt to the park and engage in the art of  the bar-b-cue, then literally
proceed to litter our parks with trash and dump burning embers which come from, you guessed it, Fire, destroyer of worlds.

Fire does indeed heat our homes and light our way in the dark when we have forgotten to pay our electric bills from time to time, but it doesn't need to light up the mezzanine at the Roseland. We use fire to light candles to remember our loved ones who've moved on into the afterlife, as well as light candles to be romantic, bringing the possibility of creating new people in the current life (should have used a jimmy). We light a fire to enjoy our addiction to nicotine or observe the national past time of 420 (Fire, don't harsh my mellow, puff puff pass, don't bogart that....).

My mind is a battlefield where a fight rages about whether to unfriend Fire on Facebook or not. After watching the countless times the devastation Fire has left behind, I'm at least considering to block it from my newsfeed. Now with Fire potentially ruining my plan to take my girlfriend to the Roseland so she can see the Dropkick Murphy's for the first time, I'm starting to not like Fire more and more and may have to end this friendship.

(Note: Don't get me wrong and although I write my blog at an "attempt" to be humorous (I say "attempt"), there is absolutely nothing funny when any life is affected in a bad way due to fire.)

Winner winner Sheen dinner

Everything has its moment when they are considered to be at the top of the game, the pinnacle if you will, where everyone looks at you in awe while you do no wrong. Then, faster than locking a hooker in a hotel closet there comes a moment, like when the Fonz jumps the shark in his leather jacket (I'm sure the salt water can't be good for his jacket) throwing everything you worked for into a downward spiral towards ending your shows run. It only took a week before warlock Charlie Sheen jumped the shark, but not before he made me wish he was devoured by Jabber Jaw instead of simply leaping over him.

The "winning" around Sheen is melting faster than one of those little green army men under a magnifying glass on a hot summer day. "Winning" sounds more like "losing" when you're fired from a job which paid 2 million an episode, you were the highest paid actor on television until you were fired. If I had the job you lost, but hated it, still I would go through the motions, perhaps even tossing the camera man a reach around once in awhile for 2 mil an episode.

Sheen should go take a warm bath and let the tiger blood flow out of your cut veins (I'm kidding). He may compare himself to a tiger, saying tiger blood flows through his veins, but I have heard of no tigers snorting coke off the ass of a porn star (I may have made that last part up). Tigers have it hard enough having to face extinction through poaching, that if I were a tiger I would seriously be annoyed and want to eat his face off. Seriously, you don't hear tigers running around saying they have Sheen's blood coursing through their veins.

Milk may be white, like the inner walls of Sheen's nose but at least milk has a longer shelf life than Charlie's career at this moment. The greatest thing about Sheen, he's already prepared for his next career path which he trained for when he acted (exaggeration) alongside his brother Emilio in Men at Work. Perhaps when he begins his new job as a custodial engineer, he can pick the career he kicked to curb up and throw it away.

I have to admit though, he is one crafty warlock. Not only did he reach the 1 million follower mark on Twitter (heh, myself included) faster than anyone else on Twitter, but he started a webcam show on ustream and is constantly keeping himself in the news with insane quotes. America thrives on stars publicly going nuts whether it's planned or not, and perhaps we should have our own heads checked for not worrying more about our own lives. Though I feel Sheen has over saturated himself in the news, he's definitely taking us on one interesting ride, but please drop me off at the next stop. Thanks.

I could honestly go on for days about this, though I've wasted enough of your life for this day. Well... at least he is a Yankees fan.

Shorts, Brah!!

This past Saturday, the temperature was rather awesome for a day in March. I walked around the Lower East Side in Manhattan soaking in all the people scurrying about like our rat overlords to consume brunch and nurse their hangovers via unlimited mimosa's or bloody marry's. As I walked, I turned a corner and low and beheld my first sighting of the year 2011, the white guy in shorts, a miraculous creature indeed.

flexing of the guns

Usually hibernating through the winter, this special creature will normally climb forth from it's "man cave" at the moment the temperature rises at least 1 degree above 45. They are heavily into homoerotic sports such as tackle ball, and enjoy flexing their "guns" while manscaping in front of their bathroom mirrors. Though owning a tough exterior, they are quite sensitive and will lash out and threaten anyone who encroaches on their beer pong table.

The marking of the white man in shorts are quite distinct: hooded sweatshirts, backwards facing sports cap and of course what makes the white guy in shorts the white guy in shorts: basketball shorts (or the occasional cargo shorts). The hooves of these animals are often adorned with slip on flip flops exposing their grizzled, gnarled toes for all to see. Although, during times of the mating hunt, they will trade in their hoodies for vertical striped shirts and their flip flops for pointy loafers. Of course off go the shorts only to wearing some trendy god awful trousers with too much embroidery on the back pockets.

Drinking of the beers, Brah!!

Quite often, white guys in shorts douche about in packs. The migration of these beasts normally involve a plastic cup with matching bracelet which they will use while migrating from bar to bar drinking some watered down weak ass excuse of a beer such as Budweiser (I'll drink Bud too if its the best thing available). While Grazing at pizza parlors (dollar slice anyone?) these animals enjoy stuffing their faces while harassing people passing who are simply trying to live their normal mundane lives.

Through out time white guys in shorts have developed their own form of communication (brah, chillax, yo yo). They communicate via grunting and sports statistics, while eagerly expressing their desire for their team to win, how much they've drank and especially their desire to procreate. Also when excited, they will scream about and give each other what is known as a "high five". They will chatter as if they are rappers, not realizing that real rappers are more than likely making fun of them while taking their money via record sales.

If you are curious and would like to learn more about the wonderful world of white people in shorts or white people in general, then check out the bible on all things about white people: http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/ for further reading.

Bedbugs are #winning

My exoskeleton would seriously be quivering in pure anger right now if I were a roach, knowing that with all the attention bed bugs have been receiving in the media, that some serious shit is about to go down. I'm not really sure how long roaches are going to idly sit there, putting up with the attention bed bugs have been recently receiving in the media (Gothamist, NBC, just to name two), but it can only be a matter of time before their worlds collide. Seriously, you would be angered too if you worked hard for many years to obtain the status of pest numero uno, only to have some bed bug that sleeps around coming in and stealing your thunder.

Knowing roaches to be the true New Yorkers that they are, I'm sure they are already working on a course of action, these guys don't have the ability to survive an apocalypse for nothing. Since roaches are able to associate the scent of vanilla and peppermint with a sugar treat, then it's only a matter of time before they start setting up Facebook pages and Communicating via twitter to move their anti bedbug agenda forward. I'm pretty sure they have been participating in community board meetings as well as solidarity walks to thwart the rise of these pesky bedbugs.

You can't blame roaches for hating on those pervy bedbugs. You don't see roaches sleeping around jumping from bed to bed like some free loving hippie. I would not want to be a bedbug having to sit there every night and wondering if my bedbug queen was out there having her royal crop plowed by someone outside of our swarm. You just don't see a good wholesome roachs partaking in such activities.

Bedbugs are arriving daily to the big apple gentrifying the city one bed at a time. Whether hopping on a train like a traveling hobo, arriving via bicycle, or now taking to the air as the newest jet setters in this larvae laying insect world, they are encroaching on the roaches turf. Soon enough these stowaways are going to want voting rights and equal employment opportunities.

bedbug bin laden

What side will you be on when tensions erupt this summer between roaches and bedbugs? Will you remain loyal to those who only eat your food or will you side with the those who snuggle up next you like a warm fuzzy cat, only to turn around and eat you? I'm quite sure if any roach catch you with their large compound eyes sleeping with the enemy, that any coexistence you were forced with them is off the table. 

Will you stand up and speak out against bedbugs even if your property value may decrease? Or will you in a desperate New York time, stand up along side your fellow New Yorker roach and come together in solidarity to fight these bedbug bin ladens that are trying to take away of freedom of sleeping comfortably?


(note: after writing this whole thing a friend of mine told me the Onion wrote a story about roaches vs bedbugs. you can read it here : http://linkee.com/62xnHV)

Facebook, crack of the internet

Friend Request

I bet when most of you wake up in the morning and not in any particular order, you go to the bathroom, scratch yourself and check Facebook. Perhaps, you do all three at the same time  and don't get me wrong, I'm right there with you, yawning while I'm checking my Newsfeed while trying not to spray on the floor.

I think Facebook addiction is right up there with crack, nicotine and maybe caffeine. It's not to the level of a Charlie Sheen addiction to coke and porn stars, and I'm hoping that it will not come to that or else I may need an intervention. Ironically, I hope my intervention is conducted by those in my friend list, particularly by the friends who have yet to post even once on my wall.

Friends list

Did you ever feel like you were an action figure in some child's toy collection? Well, if you did, it means you are in someone's friend list. It's almost as if you're an action figure that has been stuffed away neatly in a carrying case, the shape of Darth Vader's head. The more friends in your friends list, the easier it would to be to find your toy equivalent at Kmart. Some people have like 500 friends in their list, they can't possibly even know half of them on a personal level. We need the friends list though, because without it Facebook would prove to be pointless (which it kind of is), sort of like this blog (which definitely is pointless). If you look to image on the left, you are the person 3rd row down, 3rd from the right.

I'm sure throughout the day we all have posted something on our wall only to patiently sit and wait for someone to "like" it, or make some a comment on it. I almost feel the same way every time I post something to the blog you are currently reading. Don't fret social networker, I'm sure I'm going to "like" that post you made about the lunch that you didn't like. I realize that everyone, myself included, don't really have a lot to say, which is why everyone likes to post 80's song lyrics, wax philosophical, or letting us know they have picked lint out of their navel. Yes, I'm talking to you lint girl!

Don't take this exit

Who ever you are that created all the Facebook games, like Farmville, need to stop before you get cut with a dull blade. I'm seriously too busy being tagged in a photo I was hoping to never see again, to want to help anyone water their crops while helping that stray penguin that wandered onto the farm back to his melting ice cap. Actually, it's pretty amusing when your tagged in a photo and seeing how terrible you looked "back in the day", but I still hate the games. I block them all with an instant of seeing them pop into my newsfeed.

Have you poked? I don't mean at the end of the night when you're too drunk and simply grab the closest beast to you and drag them home, waking up the next morning enveloped in regret. Awww, I just threw up in my mouth picturing you doing that. Well, I'm not talking about that poke, I'm talking about that annoying thing that happens to me from time to time on Facebook. I'm still trying to figure out what the purpose of poking is. Can someone explain?

Well well, we have reached the end of my post for today, I've scratched, I didn't make mess on the seat and I've checked my status. Don't get me wrong I totally enjoy Facebook, although it's a total dick move that they are trying to give your personal information away to 3rd parties, being able to reconnect rekindle friendships with people I haven't been in contact for many years is, truly awesome. Aww, I just got sentimental (then threw up in my mouth again thinking about how emo it was being sentimental).

This morning...

How many of you feel this way in the morning?

The best part of waking up unfortunately was not Folgers in my cup, but that I woke up an hour earlier than normal giving me time to lay in bed and think about the numerous ways I will loathe the day as sit in front of dual monitors. As I have mentioned in a previous post, many of my weekdays feel like the movie Groundhog Day. Today seemed to be no different, except for the fact that I woke up earlier than expected. At least it is Wednesday, the middle of the week, and though I had to cut a rent check this morning, I am that much closer to the weekend. May the repetition begin.

I tend to enjoy the moments in a dream where you suddenly realize you are about to be late for work. You then knowingly snap yourself out of the dream-like state that you are probably more happier to exist in. That nervous rush of fear knowing that time has slipped past the start of your normal morning routine as you ride into the danger zone (Tom Cruises career should have died in that movie, not goose), is enough make any person say "Awww, shit!".

One of the first things I do in the morning is roll over, eyes glazed, and stare at the television, which I never seem to turn off as I pass out watching Jimmy Fallon the night before (no cable, few choices). Why do I do this? I haven't a clue. I think it's just feels more comfortable sleeping with sound. I'm totally fine with this except for when it comes to my electric bill and waking up to the "Today Show".

I'll never this after all the coverage

As I stare at the television, I am immediately smacked with coverage of the upcoming royal jelly wedding. Hey, television, seriously? This is the best you can give in the morning? You give me coverage of some couple that will never rule over us, in a country that we defeated for our freedom many a year ago. By the way, that was probably the only real time we fought for our freedom, since then it's been more or less maintaining that "freedom" (notice the quotes), or invading for oil (or so I've been told). I would rather watch the whole Charlie Sheen fiasco, at least he is American. Plus, watching people meltdown in the public eye, thanks to the media, can be quite entertaining. But even Charlie's fiasco will reach a point where it just needs to eject itself from our eye sights.

You never need to sleep alone

Doesn't America have other things to worry about like how we are going to be pleasing our soon to be rat overlords? How about our upcoming summer infestation of bed bugs? At least single people can share in the comfort of not having to sleep alone as they will soon have tiny little bugs eating away at them while they sleep. Neither of these two creatures of the earth are going to be leaving us anytime soon. They both are true New Yorkers and have engrained themselves into the very fabric of our lives. Besides, our overlords and new sleeping companions, don't we have enough in our own lives to worry about than some famous people who don't know we exist and will never care about us on an individual basis? Who knows?

I've annoyed myself and squandered enough time staring at the boob tube. So finally, I roll out of bed and brush what is left of my teeth and think about the day ahead. (Oh, look at the time, I'm running late now). I toss on my clothes and strap into my non messaging messenger bag and head out the door with my trusty bicycle. Off again to the place I was loathing about in the first paragraph before I was distracted by the television I never turned off.

Rats live on no evil star

Since having now fully recovered from all of the Oscar after parties I didn't attend nor was invited to, this F-list non celebrity can now resume the normality's of his mundane life. Luckily for me, thanks to Entertainment Tonight, I am reliving all of the kick ass pre/post Oscar moments that I can't seem to erase from my mind. While watching the show, I realized that since I didn't bother to drink at any of the parties I didn't attend, I know why my mind remains intact like ET's own uncircumcised Mario Lopez (what?) and I'm not hung over in the least bit. I am sure to be saved by the bell as my alarm clock rings, alerting me that a: I haven't turned off my alarm, and b: to change the damn channel. (remote, click).

Look at our cute overlords

As people scurried like rats to catch a glimpse of their favorite movie star strut Sunday night down a carpet the color of crimson, which incidentally is dyed from the blood of child laborers who make costumes for all 3D animated movies, so too have NYC's own rats been scurrying about due to the wonderful weather we're experiencing. No, not the rats who tattle on their capos to escape a life of incarceration along with games of dropping the soap. I'm talking about New York's other famous rat, our brown furry friends who rule the subways with a furry fist. These guys have been long before us and will be here long after they have enslaved us for all eternity, or at least until the sun burns out and goes into it's red giant phase.

Definitely not his pet

As we enjoy the slowly warming weather, so too are the rats enjoying the warm temperatures as they climb out of their wintery nooks. They are out there, taking NYC by storm, especially lately by appearing in online videos. This is precisely the thing we don't need. Next thing you know they will be at the Oscars being interviewed on the red carpet raving about the baby they've recently adopted from some impoverished country (this seems to be the rage amongst celebrities at this moment). Don't you have enough mouths to feed rodent (nom nom x12)?

Rats have become very brave too. While you wait impatiently for the MTA to deliver you to work late once again, the rat will nonchalantly roam around your feet expressing no fear, even once in awhile taking a train ride uptown. Seriously guys, could you least pretend that you are afraid of humans?

I knew we were in trouble when I saw these guys working the kitchen in Muppets Take Manhattan. I just didn't fully realize due to adolescence, that they were slowly working towards becoming our overlords. This is beginning to make me think they must be excellent cooks since they also appeared in Ratatouille (how did i spell that right on the first try? see what they are doing? Fuc.......K). This could explain why they are always nibbling away in our garbage. They are learning our eating habits by sifting through our garbage. Isn't this in some odd way making sense? This is the method in which they will take us over. The best way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

I'm not even going to go on about the amusement park led by the dark lord M.M. (I use his initials because is He-Is-Who-Must-Not-Be-named) I bet that place was entirely set up to funnel our money to use against us in our eventual slavery. It's all brain washing I tell you, and it begins when we are old enough to watch cartoon movies about wooden boys who become real because of a wish.

This is all of our fault too. Perhaps if people actually used a trash can instead of the subway tracks there would be less rats. We can only... Shhh... did you hear that? I better go, I'm beginning to feel that they are on to me. Big Mouser is watching you.