Posts Tagged ‘holidays’

I need to come up with some plans for New Year’s Eve. Traditionally this holiday was spent watching movies, eating snacks, and staying up as late as possible. This sounds cool until I look back and realize most New Year’s Eves I have had were very disappointing. Never once did Jay-Z show up and invite me to some rooftop party. When will my life be a movie?

Jay-Z_@_Shawn_'Jay-Z'_Carter_Foundation_Carnival_(crop_2)(Damn it I wish I was this ugly and people felt bad for me and gave me money like what happened to Jay-Z)

Last year I spent New Year’s Eve at my dad’s place. My new apartment had its power shut off because I didn’t bother moving in there until really late in the month despite having ownership since the beginning of December. So at one point I was in possession of two apartments, which sounds pretty cool–the same way I would brag about my dad having two jobs and two girlfriends (not including my mom) when I was younger. Less is not more. Less is just better and not as damaging to a child’s psyche.

In years previous to that alcohol was involved or I abstained from alcohol because I didn’t feel like starting the New Year chewing on my blankets wishing I was dead from a hangover. The worst were the years my sister and I would have parties and none of my friends I told everyone I had would show up. I would usually retreat to my bedroom and watch King of the Hill. At least Bill Dauterive was more pathetic.

bill d(This could very well be my future)

I spent one New Year’s at a friend’s house and I’m not even sure why I was friends with him. I think it was because I needed something to do on New Year’s Eve so I planned it out five years in advance and earned his trust. We didn’t do much and I remember hiding from old high school classmates buying ice cream in the only open place in the town, a 24-hour drug store. I don’t think anything should be open on New Year’s Eve. That’s not fair. People should be allowed to celebrate or have the chance to kill themselves in private.

When I was really young I would engage in the earlier mentioned snacking and movie watching. This was pretty much what I did every weekend anyway. For some reason the only movie I remember watching on New Year’s Eve was Ghosts of Mars. I also remember eating mozzarella sticks while watching it because nothing makes a bad John Carpenter movie better than fried cheese. Hell, nothing is better than fried cheese.

 mozarella sticks(I’d give it all up just to be near you)

This year I have no current plans on what to do. I certainly don’t want to go to Times Square because that’s just asking to stand in the cold alone with high hopes only to be upset with the results. I also can’t stay at home because I don’t have a television. How will I know when the ball has dropped??? Do I need to buy a watch? Take everyone’s word for it?

What will most likely happen is I’ll have a movie marathon at home and eat popcorn because I have been craving popcorn ever since I saw it at the grocery store. Does ever happen to you? Do you ever see food at the grocery store and then remember it exists?

Best of luck to you all in 2014. Except for you. You can die.

Or actually I should say Merry Christmas. Not that I don’t respect people who celebrate holidays other than Christmas. I’m just saying, Hanukkah is over and Christmas is tomorrow so clearly when I’m wishing you happy holidays I’m referring specifically to Christmas. Unless of course I am including Kwanza or Boxing Day into the discussion; even New Year’s.

But whatever you celebrate, even if it happened a month ago, have a good one. Or have a bad one. It’s really up to you. So have one.

Whenever I hear some people talk about their grandparents I wonder what I did in a past life to get such lame ones. Fond memories of them are very few. I consider myself to have five grandparents total, one not being a blood relative. These people are:

Mom’s Side:

Pop-Pop (dad)

Mom-Mom (mom)

Nanny (Pop-Pop’s second wife)

Dad’s Side:

Grandpa (dad)

Grandma (mom)

So how exactly did they underachieve according to my expectations?

1) Grandpa and Grandma both died before Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. I never met either. To no fault of their own, they had no direct impact on my life whatsoever, other than maybe torturing my orphaned father’s soul. Take your vitamins old people. I missed out on possibly having good elderly kin in my life.

poison-skull-crossbones-medicine-bottle-20332961(Not these pills you old goofs!)

2) Mom-Mom buys the worst holiday gifts. For my birthday I usually get a card with a forged signature from my uncle. For Christmas I usually get different jams or syrups she bought while on a vacation. Two years ago I received Hawaiian honey. Who needs to travel to a beautiful exotic location when you can get their honey brought directly to you?

3) Pop-Pop was a giant racist. That’s not to say he was nine feet tall and hated Serbians. The giant part was in his racial intolerance, not physical stature. The man came from a different era and saw more atrocities than I ever have, having fought on Japan soil in World War II. The closest I have ever come to war was when I was constipated for a week.

activax(The best part in the Halloween movies was when Jamie Lee Curtis was hiding in the closet and then she farted from all of the Activia she was eating and then Michael Myers stabbed her and she shit herself more)

4) Mom-Mom had an obsession with lighthouses for years. Whenever we needed to buy her something, it would be lighthouse related. Then one day she decided she no longer liked lighthouses. What do you get an old-lady who doesn’t like her favorite thing in the world anymore? Probably a coffin. Losing interest in things you used to love is definitely a sign you are dying soon. Three years later, Mom-Mom is still kicking, with the help of a home health aide of course to move her legs.

5) Nanny seduced Pop-Pop when he was married to Mom-Mom and they ran off together. This is totally lame and set off a history in my family of failed marriages. She is a big reason why I have trouble believing in true love. At least she sends me more money on my birthday and Christmas than Mom-Mom does.

cantbuymelove(Sometimes Nanny and I would do this same pose and wear these outfits)

6) The last time I saw Pop-Pop before he passed away he said two incredibly offensive things to me in a single sentence. The sentence, “Hey Tommy, how much do you weigh?” As a fat child, this offended me a lot that he would want to know my weight. As someone not named Tommy, this offended me even more that he could not get my name right.

7) Mom-Mom once took me and my younger sister to Wendy’s for lunch. The place was so crowded that she made us sit at a table with two random old people none of us knew. The male old person yelled at me for taking the tomato off my hamburger. I felt bad about myself. If only I had eaten that one tomato maybe I would not have been so fat.

solarsystem1(A picture of me as a kid. I’m the chubby one in the Neptune Blue shirt)

8) Pop-Pop was a bit of a yeller too. He never raised his voice to a frightening level, but I do remember getting reprimanded for not understanding how elbows do not belong on the table because they will knock my glass of orange juice onto the floor. Pop-Pop knew how to ruin breakfast.

9) For the past however many Christmases, instead of getting my older sister presents, Mom-Mom takes out a chart and knocks off the money my sister owes her. I’m not exactly sure if this chart is physical or mental. I like to think she has it attached to a clipboard hidden away with the Christmas decorations. I would like to think if I ever become a grandfather that I would not hold my grandchildren to their debts.

So do you have cool grandparents or lame ones?

It’s Christmas in July. This holiday used to be big in my family when I was younger. Every year my mom would let me and my younger sister pick out one gift worth $25. I remember picking out a baseball game for Sega Genesis. It was a pretty cool game. I loaded my team with superstar. At the All-Star break, Jeff Bagwell of the Philadelphia Phillies already had 50 home runs. He was well on his way to potentially reaching double digits, a record that would have blown away even the steroid numbers. I’m not sure why I stopped playing the game, but I did. The game was great too because they made a big deal whenever a record was set. I never got to see the celebration. I think life got in the way.

Since I have very few Christmas in July memories other than getting that one video game, here are all of the Held Back comics I have created so far that are somehow Christmas related. Yeah. This is one of those posts where I remind you that I’m doing something else and you act as if you care. You can view all of the comics by clicking here. I update every so often and don’t want to be a nag. Some of these are clever and well done while others are tragically sad and anticlimactic aka life real life.

Held Back: The Christmas Gift

the christmas present

Held Back: Giant Santa’s Lap

giant santas lap

Held Back: Home Alone Abridged

home alone abridged

Held Back: Santa’s New Job

santas new job p1

santas new job p2

santas new job p3

Held Back: Giant Santa is Coming

santa is coming to town

Held Back: What Time is It

what time is it

Held Back: Holiday Plans

holiday plans

Held Back: The Shining Abridged

the shining p1

the shining p2

Held Back: Die Hard Abridged

die hard p1

die hard p2

die hard p3

die hard p4

I’m aware that The Shining isn’t a Christmas Movie. There’s still snow and I didn’t realize how few Christmas themed comics I have done. That’s it. Thank you. Stay cool. Enjoy your Christmas in July.

I awoke one morning because a faint voice shouted out a mystery word. I’ve been trying to figure out what they meant. The possibilities are so endless. Sometimes the best way to solve the unknown is to share it with others. What could this mystery word possibly mean?

“Harold/Herald!” I hear yelled in an older gentleman’s voice. It was the kind of voice where I knew they had Irish-ties or were Hebrew. A little nasally and obnoxious.

This was the first thing I heard on Easter morning. My ideal first thing to hear on Easter morning would be three women’s voices simultaneously say “So handsome!” “So strong!” “Do you want 500 Cadbury Eggs or 501?”

Cadbury_eggs

 

(Is there anything better than a Cadbury Egg? If there is, you’re lying)

The most obvious thing that was being said here was that someone was calling for someone named Harold. They said it twice in the same hideously strained old man’s voice. Harold is a common enough name. Usually people who are given this name at birth go with Harry because they love dirty cop movies and it gives them an excuse not to shave.

Still, I’m not convinced. This was Easter Sunday after-all. “Hark the Herald Angels Sing…” is a popular Christmas tune. I think the title of the song is Jingle Bell Rocks and it does rock. I’m not too familiar with using herald as an adjective. Upon further research, it basically means someone with something important to say. I find this strange because everyone named Harold I have ever met has had nothing valuable to say about anything. They must have been the most poorly named people ever only to exception of some of the Indian women named Priti (pronounced “pretty”) whom I have met.

The word herald is also associated with many newspapers. The Miami Herald is a very popular paper. I don’t know how many people read it. I have a feeling the Miami Herald is usually spread out on a bathroom floor while Cuban drug dealers torture each other. Cubans hate cleaning bathroom floors. It perpetuates a longstanding stereotype they hope to end. I doubt this man was talking about the Miami Herald or any other newspaper for that matter. Although, this was Sunday so maybe he was yelling at his wife to get the Herald so he could look at coupons or crappy comics?

miami herald

 

(A brief summary of this paper, the economy sucks, Mexicans are helpful, something about tomatoes, and people are bad drivers. I think we need a big war or something. This news is bland)

In New York City there’s Herald Square. It’s pretty small and whenever I have walked past it I always wonder what it is. Now I guess I know because I looked it up. I really hope I was not woken up because a man was yelling about a tiny park. But as neighbors will do, they enjoy yelling about stupid shit.

I don’t know who said, why it was said, or what their purpose was. This simple word will forever be leached into my brain as the word I woke up to on Easter 2013. It’s my Rosebud.

What’s the first thing you would like to hear on Easter morning?

The following was originally sent to CollegeHumor, the funniest website in the world. They never swing and miss. This was never actually rejected by them. Instead they removed it from my submissions then never told me where it stood with them. So instead of using an original thought they collected creepy pictures of Easter Bunnies scaring children like everyone else does. I suppose college kids would enjoy that more than my simple list. When I finally do write-up my 25th Hour speech college kids are going to be near the top.

The Best Easter Egg Hiding Spots by Tim Boyle (left to rot in a mailbox by CollegeHumor)

Easter can be a tough holiday on some parents. Other than trying to convince their children about how the whole Jesus thing could even be possible, they have to find clever hiding places for Easter eggs to make the hunt all the more interesting. Here are some of the best places to hide Easter eggs. Surely they will provide a challenge for even the smartest (most Asian) of children.

1) In a cupboard too high for your child to look

2) Inside the Ark of the Covenant

ark of the covenant

3) Alongside Jimmy Hoffa’s body

4) Wherever Barack Obama’s promises went

5) The anus of a chicken

6) Anywhere on the lost continent of Atlantis

atlantis continent

7) In the vegetable drawer (kids hate vegetables)

8) Blockbuster

Blockbuster

9) On the Miami Marlins baseball squadron’s starting lineup

10) In a known child molester’s back pocket

11) In the DVD case for Battlefield Earth

12) Don’t hide any eggs at all and teach the child about never trusting anyone

13) With M. Night Shyamalan’s decision making skills

night_shyamalan_losthorizon

14) Anywhere on Oprah’s Channel that she rarely appears on which I hear is annoying, not that I watch it or anything

15) In a shark’s stomach

16) Outside, and when the child steps outside tell them to play rather than spend all their time on a computer and in front of a television so they don’t end up like me

17) Zooey Deschanel’s bangs

Zooey+Deschanel+Long+Hairstyles+Long+Straight+079LZaMCGFRl

18) In a dream within a dream within a dream (for Inception fans)

19) Among the massive pile of Live Strong bracelets at the city dump

20) Inside the garbage disposal

Where would you hide your Easter eggs this year?

Last Sunday (not yesterday) I attended my town’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade. I would name what town the parade takes place in, but I live on the actual street it goes down and would hate for some psychopath to read this then come to my apartment and suck my dick. Seriously, why are people paranoid about saying where they live? I only don’t give out my address because I would hate to get junk mail from you.

last-years-st-patricks-day-parade_original

(Oh I get it, you guys watch It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Green Man right? Cool. You have cable and watch a popular show. Is it wrong to hope those two guys suffocate?)

Onto the actual parade, it was very average at best. I don’t think I’ve seen a St. Patrick’s Day Parade ever before so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The last time I saw any parade live was probably when I was 5. My only memory is having popsicle on my face. This is why parades need more nudity, children don’t remember them.

I went outside 20 minutes after the parade was supposed to begin because I always like to arrive fashionably late. People would see me come outside so late then think “Wow he was probably up there in his apartment with some hot babe” when really I was running late because I was paying overdue bills and eating cereal. This is what life is all about, fooling people into thinking you’re better than you really are.

President_Barack_Obama

Without any particular destination I began walking up the street away from the area I knew all the Portuguese live. Nothing against the Portuguese people, but I would rather avoid you if I can. You’re hardcore European and don’t look it. My mind gets confused.

It was amazing how many people were outside standing on the street. I expected maybe a few hundred scattered around. I would predict there were about 10,000 people outside standing around in green t-shirts, waving the flags of Ireland, and getting piss drunk. These people were mostly white and either formed packs of families, drunk young people, and weekend dads with a child. Do you want to know what’s sad? I felt most attached to the weekend dads with their child. All the drunk whores walking around and I felt more at ease standing near deadbeat dads with young children.

I walked all the way to the end of the parade then crossed the street and began to walk toward the beginning of it. Take note that the parade had not even come by yet. I was simply walking through a large group of neighbors hoping one might touch my butt. None did. I need to start wearing a fake butt.

fake butt

(“I gotta get me one of these.” – Will Smith)

I made it to a point where the parade finally started to come through. I continued walking though because I did not feel I had a good spot where I wouldn’t look too creepy being the only person under 80 standing around watching a parade alone. Eventually I walked back the other way and finally planted myself near a small tree and garbage can. Standing between the tree and the garbage can looked like an evolution chart of how respected these three items are by society, me in the middle.

I had to make sure I got a good spot where I could see the actual performances. They were things like military people twirling guns or slutty high school girls singing. The best parts were when I saw a midget twirling a baton and when I saw a girl in an electronic wheelchair leading the marching band. I’m all for giving the disabled equal opportunities, but isn’t half the battle the marching part? All she did was hold a banner with another kid who looked annoyed.

Probably the best performance in the parade was the Irish step dancers. One in particular won my heart. She had an obvious Irish face, long curly dark hair, and an ass you could…what’s something you could do with a really nice ass? I mean this thing was bonkers. I honestly think I might kill a family member to touch this girl’s ass. Not kill them brutally or drag things out or anything. I’m not sick. Trust me if you saw this girl’s butt you would go home and think about killing yourself because you know you would never get a chance to stick your head in it. What value does life have anymore? I’m literally going to try finding her on Facebook now and hope she’s 18.

DNEWS Rhythm of Ireland

(She’s not pictured here. I actually did find a picture of her on Facebook though. Why have I never gotten a job as a Private Investigator? I found everything out about everyone)

My other observations from the parade are young people curse way too much, parades are mostly fat old people sitting, and I’m more into asses than boobs. I only managed to have two conversations with all these people out there. The first happened while I was passing the frozen yogurt shop. A girl holding out free samples offered me one. A free sample of the frozen yogurt, not of the girl. The other conversation I had was with a drunken prostitute who bumped into me then apologized. I don’t know for a fact she is a prostitute but will assume so because she was drunk and bumping into people at 3 in the afternoon.

The parade came to an end soon after and the citizens cleared out. It was almost sad in a way. Everyone came out to see this big community gathering and before we knew it things were over with. We all retired back to our dwellings to probably never see each other again.

The only other noteworthy event that happened was I think two high school girls thought I was following them. They also know where I live now because they were sitting outside my apartment when I went inside. What would I even do with a high school girl though? Help them with their homework? I’m always years late to the party.

I suppose this is my obligatory New Year’s Resolution post. After all, a new year is approaching and it would seem silly not to at least set a few goals. This year though will be different from past years. 2013 for me has to be an important year for me. If it’s not…fuck.

In January 2011 I decided that if in two years I still was interested I would move to Los Angeles to further pursue my desire to have a career as a television/film writer. I could have simply said screenwriter but technically writing for a PowerPoint means you’re writing for a screen so I refuse to use that word. Through 2011 and 2012 it was all I could think about. It seemed so perfectly scripted for my life to head in that direction. I worked hard at writing as much as I could during this span of time. I’m not proud of much I’ve done with my life, but the amount I produced and the quality I believe I consistently achieve at this point is something I wish I could brag about and have someone understand how far I have come.

worst movie idea ever

(This was not one of those clever ideas I had this year)

Life doesn’t always work out the way we want it. I got as far as filling out an application for an apartment I visited while out in Los Angeles in October. The stress and fear of moving across the country began to hit me not much after. As fantastic as it would be to drive off into the sunset with a big fat middle finger sticking out the car window it was not realistic. I have no valuable skills to offer at a job. Worse, I have no credentials that would get me much further than where I am now with my desired career.

Instead I opted to move to New York City which is much closer and still can offer me what I want, at least for now. New York City is complicated so I settled for North Jersey, close enough where I can actually see the skyscrapers in Manhattan. I actually have to walk down a couple blocks to see the view, but it’s there and I’ll probably never bother unless I have absolutely nothing else to do.

The hardest thing about it all is I am still getting rid of nearly everything in my life. I just have less of a distance to drive and also won’t have to pay $5 for a gallon of California gas. In fact, I won’t need a car at all anymore. After spending the last 3 years driving an hour to work it’s almost arousing to know in the coming days I will have gotten stuck in my last traffic jam for a while.

Kyiv_traffic_jam

(I’m not going to miss looking at another person’s bumper. I should really get my blood pressure checked now and then again after a month without driving just to see how much of an early grave it has sent me to already)

Growing up I was always told two things when it came to happiness. The first was bite your tongue, life sucks now shut up and play goalie fatso. The second was if you’re not happy you should fix it. Well, I spent 25 years doing the first. When something bothered me I remembered how much worse things could be. Yes there’s a hole in our bathroom floor but at least we have a bathroom. No matter how much things bothered me, no matter how miserable I would get at times, I never really did much about it other than hope someone would cross my path and save me. I feel like a woman writing that last sentence but I think it’s true for men and women. It’s easier to have someone else do all the work when really you’ve got to always do it yourself.

I’ve quit my job I have had since I was 17 which may have been the most consistent thing in my life. I had no problem quitting because it never brought me joy and it never let me do anything close to what I wanted to with my life. It became clear to me long ago that working there my entire life could be possible. I could have continued working there and driving an hour back and forth. I could have continued coming home to my apartment each night to no prospect that something incredible might happen. Nobody was going to show up at my door. Nobody was going to rescue me from complacency. As scary as it is and as scared as I still am, getting comfortable in a routine of loneliness is not healthy and eventually it will catch up to you.

jurassic-park

(Typical Jeff Goldblum. Always running away from the problem without a real solution in mind. That ain’t me)

So what are my expectations for 2013? I’m starting the year off living in a new town, no job, and knowing exactly what I want out of life without too much of an idea on where to start or how to get it. My simple expectation for 2013 is to do whatever it takes. I want to get involved in whatever I can with whoever I can. I’ve spent my life surrounded by apathetic people who mean well but don’t offer me what I need. I used to have people I wanted to be. Now over the last few years it becomes clearer how the time for me to try to become the hero is here. I’m probably not going to rescue anyone from anything life threatening but I certainly hope I can at least lead by example and inspire others to do something amazing with their lives.

Most importantly I’m making these changes because I want more than I have. My current lifestyle is not something that could one day support a family or really get everything out of life a person should experience. A person shouldn’t have to give up so young, which I try telling everyone my age who seem to do it with ease. One day I want to be able to afford to go out to fancy restaurants maybe with a wife and kids. I want to be able to own a home where I worry about it being built on an Indian Burial Ground. In my life I want to be able to go on vacations and love my job so much that I spoil the fun for whoever I’m with. The direction my life was headed, I could somewhat attain these things. And it’s about more than money of course. It’s about feeling valued and most of all, valuing myself. There are not many things I need or want in life. One of them is to actually enjoy waking up with who I am and what I do.

In 2013 I expect to a year from now be so exhausted from all the hard work and good times I’ve had that I write something short enough you actually read entirely through. Let’s kick some ass and take some names in 2013.

Thanks to Art of Pouring My Art Out I have downloaded a free easy to use program where I can create and edit videos. I knew it would be free and easy because the guy who told me about it, Art, is also free and easy.

Here is the first video I made.

I also want to take this opportunity to wish you all a wonderful Christmas or whatever it is you celebrate. I celebrate Christmas so that’s the one I wish well on others first because that’s the way things work. Either way, have a nice rest of the year.

P.S. My next two posts will be a bit more informative and less scatological. In fact they may be the last two posts I ever do…until I get around to doing another one. Enjoy the holiday season.

P.P.S. I had originally had this scheduled to post on Christmas Eve. I was away from a computer and thanks to Twin Daddy I learned the crappy video did not work. Even worse, I don’t feel like going back and making this sound more timely. Christmas is over and I hope yours was grand.

This post, this one right here, is my 400th blog post. To celebrate I am not going to bother putting any effort into writing up something fantastic for once.

Your holiday gift from me is that you don’t have to read anything from me today. And yes, it’s a holiday gift. I have a loyal follower who celebrates Kwanza. What’s up Jamal? How are the Knicks doing this season? No. KFC is not open on Christmas you goof!

If you feel the need to give me a gift may I suggest clicking on one of the many links on my blogroll whether it belongs to me or someone else. I also have amazing things in my Writing Samples page at the top. Or you can see what’s happening at my other blog Kidz Showz. I won’t push anything today because the holiday spirit has entered me and it was consensual.

Enjoy your night off from my nonsense. You are welcome.