Saturday, February 17, 2007

Friday, February 16, 2007

Wow... zipped past 40,000 hits sometime today. I've got to redo this page. I want to go home and take a shower. I need to get a copy of the departed. Wrapped up a good week of work. Why or how does the microwave change the direction in which it rotates the plate each time you start it? I actually spent one second staring at the microwave with that thought in my mind. I think I'm starting to like girls again. I mean, be interested in relationships as opposed to trying to find the path of least resistance to getting laid. Not that that's happened in quite a while. I just don't know how I ended up being such a pussy. I'm the most social socialphobic ever. I still stammer when I ... forget it. This is too pathetic to even write about. I need to get out of town. I really need a vacation from a life that some consider a vacation. I live like Kramer but I look like George. Do I really need to ... I don't know what I was going to finish that sentence with; I just started typing it. Holyfuckingshit is Fergie really making a career out of this... She's such a ripoff of Gwen Stefani, among others. I saw her video for "Glamorous," which reminded me a lot of Gwen Stefani's "Luxurious," since the subject matter was about the same... and Fergie's backup dancers have about the same two or three moves and they're used in all of her videos. It's bad when I notice something like choreography.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Valentine's Day Column:2007

Relationships and dating are extremely confusing and people spend a lot of time trying to figure them out. Fortunately I've spent a good chunk of the last few years focusing on what matters most in a relationship:

Me.

I matter. My happiness is my primary concern and priority. Nothing makes me happier than waking up in the morning and not knowing what I'm going to do for the day. Hell, nothing makes me happier than waking up in the morning and not knowing what I did the night before. I wake up, watch Sopranos or Entourage On Demand, work out, eat breakfast, go to work, go out to dinner (or microwave up something awful), watch To Catch a Predator, and fall asleep. I need for nothing else. What's a relationship going to do for me? If I want female companionship I can merely hang out with one of my hot chick friends. If I want sex I can go back to work at the strip club. If I want to be left alone, I'll lock the deadbolt.


You know what men want? Food, sex, silence.
That's it. Food, sex, silence. Feed me, fuck me, shut the fuck up!
Our goals seem very attainable, don't they?

-Chris Rock

My emotional needs are so simple at this point. Pure bliss would be achieved if I could somehow simultaneously eat prime rib, drink a Jack Daniels and Diet Coke, watch Dateline NBC: To Catch a Predator, and receive oral sex. This is it. You people can keep your marriages, the birth of your children, your imminent divorces and subsequent broken homes. I'll take red meat, booze, a 42" plasma, and a hummer any goddammed day of the week.

Most everyone else doesn't see it my way; they don't share in my cynicism. This is fine. You guys can go out, buy roses, candy, rent a romantic comedy and cuddle on a couch. Before I became Darth Vader, I used to do the same thing. Shit... I love a love story. I don't buy into them or see them as a template that I could apply in my world. I like them though. Look at Jerry Maguire:
We live in a cynical world. A cynical world. And we work in a business of tough competitors. I love you. You... complete me. - Jerry Maguire (Tom Cruise) in Jerry Maguire, 1996

One of the most memorable quotes in movie history and it doesn't make sense to me. How weak does my emotional constitution need to be to need someone else to "complete me." What girl (besides one that looks like Renee Zellweger getting hit on by Tom Cruise) wants a man that feels "incomplete" without a particular female companion. I don't need to be completed. I am, in fact, a whole.

An "ass-whole" you might have wittily quipped as you read this. Good... feed into my cynicism.

You see, there will never be a sequel to Jerry Maguire. There will never be a sequel to any romantic movie. They all end with the couple getting together. Romantic movies always end with the beginning of a relationship. That's because no one in the movie viewing public wants to see the goings on after the bliss of the genesis of coupledom. No one wants to see the fights over going out too much. No one wants to see an argument over someone hanging out with an ex. No one wants reality when it comes to romance and relationships in movies. We watch to see an idealistically impossible, and therefore fantasy world. These movies should not be seen as "romantic comedies." They should be classified as "science fiction."

The standard system of dating is flawed. I see no difference in dating at this point than, say, handing out $50 gift certificates for dinner to random hot girls and hoping that one will sleep with me. The time I'd save alone would be so beneficial. Why risk a Saturday night on someone you don't really know that well when you're guaranteed to have a great fucking time with your friends? Chronological real estate is an extremely valuable commodity that I'm not willing to part with so readily.

Perhaps I'm a bit jaded. Perhaps I'm just not ready to allow my emotional well being to be held hostage by someone I met over drinks at a bar some Tuesday night. Someday I'll slip up, but for now I'll focus on completing myself.


Dedicated to my friend Britta.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

















Britney Spears at a club
. This photo is in a lot of the celebrity-tabloid blogs and I'm intrigued by it for a number of reasons. One reason, of course, is how could a girl that was once so smoking hot become a girl that even I would pass on. I'm sure they make that dress in her size. I mean at this point, if I met her (celebrity aside) at a club, I'd look to see if she had any friends. She's become a "Driver," a term I coin to describe the unattractive girl in a group of hot chicks. Show me the least attractive girl in a group of girls at a club, and I'll show you the designated driver. I don't make up these laws of physics, I merely point them out.

Note that I was the one driving all through high school when I went out with my friends, so the rule may apply to both genders.

Also in the picture is a guy that is obviously gay. I mean, how gay do you have to be to look gay in a picture? Really, really fucking gay. He's wearing normal clothes (I'll get to the boots next) and somehow manages to exude an immense amount of gayness.

And why are both Brit and Gay Guy wearing brown boots? Are they at an "ugly brown boot" party, similar to the "ugly sweater" party I went to in December? I guess you can't buy class. Fortunately for me, you can rent it.

goochout.

Sunday, February 11, 2007



I don't know... that came across as an insanely funny comment and Wolf Blitzer trying to restore the significance and validity to what should really be an insignificant event is great as well. So much said with so little and dry delivery... classic.