Here are links to places you can find other works of mine.
How can someone enjoy reading a blog if they don’t have opening credits to go with it? They won’t know who I am or who the guest stars are. So here it is, the opening credits to my blog.
These are the names of bloggers who were around to comment a lot in 2012. Stick around for 2013 and you can be famous too.
Is Alec Baldwin smart? I hope so. His name is perfect as it matches the term Smart Alec or in more correct terms–Smart aleck.
I’m pretty sure Mr. Baldwin is dumb. If he had brains he would have eaten his brother Stephen for sustenance.
I like being a Smart Alec. In fact, it bothers me whenever I’m not. Sometimes I’m thrust into (no, not by Bill Cosby) a situation where I have to be more mature or respectful. I’m also stuck with a mini-brain aneurysm that causes me to respond less like I really think.
Name one thing worse than thinking of a funny smart ass response when it’s already too late. If you said 9/11 then okay you win. You may have even said Bill Cosby and again you win. But for me personally nothing is more painful than a delayed honest smarty pants response.
Walking through the filthy subway today toward my train, I spotted a girl that looked like a more attractive Maggie Gyllenhaal. To be fair, I describe my poop the same way; a more attractive Maggie Gyllenhaal. Bill Cosby knows what I’m talking about. Even he wouldn’t touch her.
This girl stood out because she was seemingly stuck and not in a rush. I on the other hand had a shit brewing in my tummy and a train to release my gas on. I made the mistake of making eye contact, the folly of all men. I noticed her clipboard too and knew she was trouble.
Nobody carries clipboards except for gym coaches and nuns interested in smacking you with them. It’s the flat wooden object of agenda driven assholes and the only thing on earth more likely to rape you other than Bill Cosby.
“I have one quick question for you,” she said.
For me? A question only I could answer? She said for me. This was no question anyone could help her with. This was knowledge that could only be passed from me to her.
“Yeah,” I cleverly remarked while displaying my extensive vocabulary and general kindness to all of those in need.
“Where do you think our drinking water comes from?” she asked while having a vagina.
I didn’t pause. Thankfully I was cold and in a rush. If I had time or she looked better, less like a white girl in college, I may have entertained her longer and eventually said something horrific as I tend to do in situations like these (conversations).
I thought about it briefly then said, “Uhh the sink.”
I said it in such a way too like she didn’t have some money raising pitch to give me. I answered as if she was really curious and wanted to know the answer. I sounded so sure of myself. I didn’t even inflect it like I had any doubt. There was no question mark at the end of my response.
“Thank you have a nice day,” she said as I continued walking without missing a step.
So was I right? Does the water we drink come from the sink? Or are we really just drinking the tears of women Bill Cosby knows?
Unless you got a really good note from a doctor, you probably had to participate in gym class during your youth. From kindergarten until for some of us university, we had to learn physical education. During my time learning about my body and how useless it was when it came to sports, I realized there were always the same types of kids in my gym class every year.
(I couldn’t find a good picture of kids in gym class so I used this one of them running away from a classmate with a gun)
My high school had a lot of really talented athletes who went on to do nothing with their abilities because as talented at sports as they were in comparison to me they really weren’t very good compared to the Soviets or anyone else who drinks blood before going for a jog. The Athlete treats gym class as an exhibition. He will dominate you at foursquare and he doesn’t hide in the back of the kickball batting lineup like I always did. This is also the one subject the athlete can shine in. They tend to smile at the girls after scoring a layup and it always does the trick, charming the gym shorts off the females in the class.
I thought girls were smart. Gym class proved to me that I was mistaken. So many girls would do whatever they could to get out of participating in gym class. Looking back I’m sure a lot of it had to do with their teenage body insecurities, but at the same time it’s not like I came from a generation that made us shower after class. I saw too many honor roll quality females get a C in gym class for simply not making an attempt at hitting a volleyball. Some girls who were otherwise social turned into shelled up antisocial outcasts during gym. They basically turned into me and that’s just sad.
The Red Faced Fat Kid
This was the category I often fell into. I was pretty competitive at sports before I didn’t have constant hip pain like I do now. When you are overweight and give it your all in sports this disgusting thing happens to your face where it turns red. Being of Irish descent, meaning I have the complexion of an unused Aryan toilet seat, my red face was a big change from my usual pale rash skin. I spent way too much time in gym class trying to win then heading off to math class smelling terrible and I would like to apologize to everyone who had to smell my pits whenever I raised my hand.
I have no medical license so I cannot completely diagnose these students who I saw as the gym class troublemakers. If I had to guess though they would probably have some form of severe ADD or demonic possession. Every year in gym class there was at least one kid who spent the entire period making monkey sounds while climbing on things he wasn’t supposed to. Other kids would shoot basketballs, purposefully missing and trying to hit other students in the head. I know this because sometimes I would do that. Given the choice between being known as the sweaty fat kid with the red face and the jerk, I will take being the jerk for eternity.
The Wannabe Athlete
These kids tended to hang around the real athletes only to realize they weren’t nearly as talented. Most of the time they were on the football team only because everyone makes the football team. After all, someone needs to get knocked over on a special teams play. The wannabe athletes were normally kids who would talk a big game and rarely back it up. At least as a red faced fat kid I wore my game on my face and on the huge circular sweat stain on the small of my back.
The Kid That Always Gets Hurt
You can toss this kind of gym class kid into any of the other categories as well, but this one is a necessary add-on for sure. Other than using a protractor incredibly wrong, gym class is usually the only class in school you will get hurt. A lot of the kids who always got hurt were athletes or the wannabe athletes. There was one kid I went to school with for years and every time he barely got touched he would pretend he was hurt really bad. He did this mostly whenever his team was losing or he screwed up, attempting to mask how his giant oval-shaped head was slowing him down during flag football. For some reason in his head he thought it was better to cry from an injury than admitting someone beat him fairly. I went to school with that kid for 13 years and we only have 5 mutual friends on Facebook. That shows you how different our social circles were.
The Take It Too Seriously Kid
Again, you can be other things and still be the take it too seriously kid. These classmates act as if they are going to win something more than a high-five from a teammate. The sport I remember seeing this kid in most was volleyball. My middle school and high school loved volleyball tournaments because it was non-violent and could be coed. Whenever a ball would land near a girl and she would step out of the way the kid who took it too seriously would scream at her like she lied about being on birth control. Why would you ever scream at a girl for wanting to not get sweaty? Needless to say, the kids that took gym class too seriously all ended up alone.
The Nerdy Girl That Actually Did Try
I would hate for you to think that I didn’t notice the girls who did try in gym class. Oddly enough from my experiences, the only ones who tried hard were the nerdy girls nobody ever noticed. Perhaps this is why they tried in gym class, to finally gain some credibility in the school. Most specifically I remember a particular nerdy girl trying to catch a kickball only for it to hit her in the face and knock her flat on her back. I think after that she learned her lesson that sports aren’t for everybody and she should stick to being weird and getting good grades. I have no idea where she ended up in life. Kudos to her, I wish I could be as elusive.
The only reason you should ever not date someone is if you are not attracted to them. Attraction is incredibly complicated and I am too dumb to understand it anyway. Instead let’s focus on the ridiculous requirements some people set for who they will or will not date based on things that go beyond attraction and border shallowness.
Many people will set a height requirement. Girls will refuse to date a guy shorter than they are. Some of their reasoning is because they want to feel safe. You want to feel safe? Where do you live that danger is affecting your love life? How many ninjas do you have after you? I also was not aware that a 6’4 guy could stop a bullet any better than someone who was 5’7. For guys they want the opposite, a girl shorter than they are. This is also foolish because there are a ton of beautiful women that are quite tall. Plus, a tall girl can protect a guy like me from danger. I know. I’m a hypocrite.
I used to say I would never date a girl who weighed more than me. This was a fair enough rule when I was over 200 pounds. Then not only did I lose weight, I also realized weight doesn’t matter when it comes to attraction. A person’s body defines way too much who they are in our society. Muscles, abs, and a tight body are great to look at. But will they nurture your needs? Will six-pack abs ever take you out for a nice dinner? No. All six-pack abs ever care about are starving themselves and popping out at nightclubs. You want a person with a six-pack? Enjoy that kale for dessert.
As much as I hate when people call things racist at the drop of a hat, it is racist to not even consider the possibility of dating someone of a certain race. It’s perfectly fine to have a preference. I get that. When you are unwilling to date a particular race it’s like saying they are not good enough for you. Believe it or not, this is actually a pretty common requirement people make. You should be willing to date people of any race. It may make you more cultured and it’s just the right thing to do.
4) Sports Fandom:
I have actually seen or heard people say they would not date someone who rooted for a rival team. This is one of the most ridiculous things ever. Most people root for a team because they were born in a particular place. So because your soulmate was born in Boston and roots for the Red Sox and you were born in New York and root for the Yankees you are not going to give eternal love and happiness a chance? Yeah, you deserve to die alone.
Long distance relationships can be tough. It also depends on how distant they are, but if you like each other I think it’s important that both parties do what they can to make it work. Technology is so amazing now that you can fall in love with someone over the Internet and have it turn out to be your younger brother upstairs in his bedroom catfishing you. Living an hour or two away from a person shouldn’t stop you from dating them if you like them. When you only date people living nearby it shows how selfish you are to your own needs and lifestyle along with how unwilling you are to explore simple things like people who live elsewhere. Meet some people who live somewhere else in a town you have never heard of. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with someone who saw you pick your nose in high school?
There are certain things from a person’s past that you should always stay away from. If they were a third world dictator, leave them be. The majority of things though should be overlooked. Life is full of obstacles and so long as the person has overcome it then you should be proud to have a person in your life that actually can solve problems, especially their own. Plus the most flawed people are usually the most interesting.
I understand that religion is deeply important to some people out there. Still, refusing to date someone because they have a different religious belief seems silly to me. I thought religion was about your personal relationship with God(s)? As long as the person you are dating doesn’t make fun of you or get in the way of your belief system I don’t see the problem. Or maybe I just don’t get it. If you don’t want to date me because I am not religious then I accept that. I like sleeping in Sundays anyway.
8) Random Physical Characteristics:
Eye color, hair color, amount of facial hair, and other little things that barely make a person who they are tend to be requirements for some people. I couldn’t tell you a favorite eye or hair color that I have for a woman. Facial hair on a woman though, I like that to be limited. Beards are incredibly trendy these days for guys. I know girls who will only date guys with beards. For those girls I hope there is a guy out there for them who enjoys dating shallow women with possible daddy issues.
9) Nice Car:
Okay, I have never actually heard anyone say this, but it has to exist. There has to be at least one girl out there or even a guy who will not date someone unless they have a nice car. We all know by now a nice car usually is because the person lacks something else in their life. The closest I have ever experienced to this was a girl telling me that she was high maintenance and likes to buy expensive clothing. To her credit she finally gave me a reason to turn off my phone.
10) Anything I Forgot:
Feel free to hate me for not making a complete list. There are so many stupid reasons why one person may not date another that I am sure you know a few more. Really the point I wanted to get across here is that you should never be strict about who you date. The perfect person for you may come in a shape, color, eye color, or even a car you weren’t suspecting them to.
(I’m also not a fan of her “got my finger shut in the door” shade of nail polish)
Bad skin, colon cancer, depression, frugality, blue eyes, and procrastination all run in my family. I have them all, except maybe the colon cancer. The cheapness that runs through my blood prevents me from ever paying health insurance. Procrastination is the problem my bloodline has that I would like to focus on here. It seems like every day I put off important things that I promise myself I will begin the next day, these are those things.
1) Get Healthier:
Diet and exercise are the life force of showoffs. I eat pretty well and I exercise regularly. One look in the mirror though and I clearly could be working harder at it. It seems like every few weeks I setup a new diet and exercise program that will turn my body from looking like a melted candy bar to looking like a melted candy bar that was thrown into the freezer to be less messy. My biggest enemy is looking at the price of salad at the grocery store. I’m not made of money. If I was made of money I would spend my days lying on the ground then running away from people whenever they tried to pick me up as a practical joke. Right now I may not have the body I wish I had. There’s always reincarnation.
2) Do Laundry:
As a bachelor (I hate that word, it feels like a nice way of saying “suspected serial killer”) I can pretty much do whatever I want, including not doing laundry as much as I should. Years ago my mother called me while she was drunk and told me how she was proud that I wasn’t smelly like other boys my age. At first it didn’t mean much, but now I’m proud she noticed I kept clean clothes. My biggest enemy when it comes to doing laundry is carrying my sack of dirty clothes down three flights of stairs. It’s much easier to just cover myself in deodorant to mask the smell.
3) Pay Bills:
I always pay my bills on time. Once I didn’t and I felt awful. I felt like I let my Internet provider down. Paying bills doesn’t take very long. The hardest part about it is realizing you have to pay 95% of your earnings just to have a normal lifestyle. My biggest enemy when it comes to paying bills is finding my checkbook. They should make a rule that if you cannot find the checkbook you shouldn’t have to pay. I would like that a lot.
4) Fulfill My Life Dreams:
My biggest lifelong dream would be to write a film that gets produced. I have written many films. I have written many television pilots. Write. Write. Write. That is my life right now. There still seems like there has to be something else I could do. Track down someone famous and harass them? Take a hostage? Beg? I’m running out of ideas. I can improve my craft all I want, but it’s not going to lead to success. My biggest enemy when it comes to fulfilling my dreams is that there are a lot of other people with the same dreams. By my estimation, there are at least five other people who dream of being a screenwriter. At least I don’t want to be an actor. I would have to contend with the ten people trying to do that.
5) Get A Job That Pays Well:
Full disclosure, the most amount of money I have ever made in a year was a little over $20,000. I’m not even sure if it was before or after taxes. I could never imagine a life where I am earning more than that. I am so set in my ways at living frivolously that if someone handed me a million bucks I would most likely spend it on finally getting new underwear, on sale of course. Until my dreams are fulfilled, I need to work a job that pays well enough for me to survive. My biggest enemy when it comes to getting a job that pays well is that I’m not a criminal. I am convinced that there is no other way to earn a lot of money other than killing someone for the mafia.
6) See A Doctor:
It has been years since I last went for a doctor’s appointment of any kind. I might have a plethora of diseases. The only things I really should probably get checked out are my left hip, my left knee, my left foot, and the cyst that has been on my back for three weeks that for the first week made it impossible to lie on my back because the pain was unbearable. My biggest enemy here is that I don’t have health insurance. It would probably cost me two month’s salary just to find out what’s wrong with me, not even the cost to fix it. I need that two month’s salary for when I plan to get married to someone with health insurance for the health insurance. Seriously, my body really hurts. And as I said earlier, I may have colon cancer.
I have lived in my apartment for seven full months and I still haven’t fully unpacked. In fact, when I moved for the first time back in 2008 I have kept certain things in boxes. I have so many baseball cards, little knick knacks, and papers that need to be sorted or dropped from towering heights onto enemies. My biggest enemy when it comes to unpacking is that there’s no point to it. When I need my autographed Emilio Estevez picture to impress a lady I will search for it.
8) Get A Girlfriend:
Behind every great man is an even greater woman. Sometimes this great woman makes him great and other times she eventually destroys him. I am not actively seeking a female as much as others might be. At the same time, I am keeping my eyes open for potential suitors. Most of all I think it would be nice to have a female around to unpack my things for me and maybe do some laundry. My biggest enemy with this is my personality. I’m not exactly the most forthcoming and adventurous man out there. I am also not an alcoholic nor am I famous. How am I ever going to find a girl?
9) Buy Shampoo:
A month ago I got tired of shampooing my hair so I shaved my head. Actually that’s not fully true. I also shaved my head for a potential radio gig. I didn’t get the gig. Now I’m left looking like a threat to others. I don’t so much put-off buying shampoo as much as I keep forgetting to. So really, the thing I need to do tomorrow is make a list of everything I have to do. First I need a pen and some paper. Doing things is so annoying.
10) Do More Today:
The best thing I can do to improve my life is to start right now. I need to stop waiting until tomorrow to do them. Of course though, improving my life wasn’t on the list of things to do. Maybe it will be on tomorrow’s list of things I have to do the following day. I will find out soon enough.
(If this is how the day after tomorrow is going to turn out I guess I shouldn’t bother doing anything at all)
The last screenplay I wrote was about zombies. I wrote it in three days over the course of a very productive yet what I’m sure was a lonely weekend with few if any encounters with the outside world. The screenplay never fully finished because what good is one more masterpiece to get discredited by the experts?
I don’t even have a title for the movie which hinders the progress. Oh and a lack of time, motivation, and skill as well.
I’m usually good at movie titles too. For instance, here are a bunch of hilarious parody titles based on the movie 28 Days Later that I came up with on my commute home from work. Not all are funny. In fact, several are terribly sad.
28 Blaze Later – a zombie stoner comedy
28 Gays Later – a movie about how AIDS was spread
28 Heys Later – a movie about greeting many people
28 Js Later – a movie about having to erase all of the Js on the screen after the key gets stuck
28 Ks Later – a movie about overpopulation in the KKK
28 Lays Later – a movie about having an upset tummy after eating too many potato chips
28 Neys Later – a movie about a whiny horse
28 Plays Later – a movie about a theater going zombie
28 Rays Later – a movie about skin cancer
28 Stays Later – a movie about frequently visiting the same hotel branch and getting rewards for it
28 Strays Later – 101 Dalmatians with feral cats
28 Trays Later – a movie about a zombie cafeteria lady
28 Weighs Later – a movie about zombie weight loss surgery
Is it just me or is everyone absolutely fucking miserable these last few weeks? I’d normally blame sunspots, but from my own point of view I can validate feeling like poop.
I guess it began when I lost on fantasy baseball. My summer was caught up trying to win money from people who work for a company that’s going out of business. I can’t feel too bad for them. After all they have children to feed while my extra food intake is just from a lack of self control.
After losing that, I felt my whole summer had been wasted and I needed a victory. Work was getting busy and I has less time to work on the creative aspect of the job as I had previously. So I decided to submit what I assumed was the best thing I had ever written to a website that gives professional and liberal reviews. Accidentally, I ordered two reviews. This was fine until I got a 6/10 followed by a 4/10. Granted the advice was helpful. However when seeking an easy victory in life it sucks to be called average.
Like I said, work has been stressful too. Between my every day duties, silly requests, and telling my coworkers to use the n word less I’ve been very busy. I’ve also fucked up and so have my coworkers. And when we fuck up, rightfully so, our boss is mad. She’s not fun to be around when she’s mad because well–she’s a she. I’m also in charge of most duties so in the end it’s up to me to enforce the law.
One small victory, and I’m talking the size of a three inch penis, was having a blog post I wrote read on the radio. The two hosts enjoyed it and made me feel good. Actually my hand made me feel good. They just supplied the background noise.
It’s weeks like the last few that make me question a lot. I was at one point so driven to succeed and make something of myself. I guess I still am. I write every day and I think I’m better at it. But who knows? It’s all a matter of opinion anyway.
I’m sitting on the floor of a train as I write this too only because my feet hurt too much to stand. I’m getting old and this Thursday I’ll officially be there. I turn 27 then. I’m at the age where most musicians die in their own vomit. I have trouble smacking my own stomach to a beat so my fate is something else.
Changing weather, darker evenings, and general reasons to be upset are what have made the last few weeks a little hellish.
All of this losing, I wonder how people on Cleveland live with themselves.
(Pepsi drinker hell)