When I started reading Karen Armstrong (The Bible: The Biography) I started doubting everything I believed. Not that she intended that. But it made me think of how we fashion God and how maybe that is what the Jews did. I think I said this part in another post, but Yahweh wasn’t special to them, he was another god in the pantheon of Gods. I do believe in God. But I think I have come to a place where sometimes I question if he is listening anymore? See, the typical answer would be to say ‘yes,her is!’, but to be honest, this is reductionistic. God can’t be bound by our ideas of him. He is not responsible to us, yes, maybe for us, but there is a difference. And what of world poverty, people getting raped, world hunger, road rage, disease, and doctrine and dogma could quite easily fit into those categories. I know I am ranting, but am just sharing. I haven’t done this in a while on here, but wanted to share because I thought it was time and got inspired to. So is God there? sometimes I think he is. other times it seems like he is having a coffee break. but, i think i have fashioned my version of God to assert his presence by “answering prayers” or giving me things is a better way to say it. Prayer wasn’t supposed to be about me getting presents from Santa, it was about connecting with the Divine. Like Phyllis Tickle talks about an old church practice she is bringing back and practices called the divine hours, and I love the idea and I love the church disciplines and I try them and I can’t seem to stick with them, then a part of me feels guilty because then, at times, I think if I do more of these, then maybe Santa God will give me what I want, and than I will know he is there. Like the other day, I tried this Zen meditation trick and ended up getting dizzy. Some might say that is ‘because God didnt want you to do that’, I would disagree with this wholeheartedly, it might be because I could be having an early onset of diabetes or something (I eat a lot of sugary crap day in and day out). But, I think we reduce God to a tyrrant when we think he is making us pay for our sins, which is faulty theology, because the cross took care of everyone. Every one of our sins. I am sometimes disillusioned by all the cliches that are running around through the halls of churches and in Starbucks conversations, the Jews disliked cliches, they thought it limited God. I do too. So, where is the real God, the one behind the cliches?? The one I can find standing waiting to grasp me and hold me and love me for who I am. It seems that because of us (the bible authors included), the God of ’scripture’ left the building long ago, once we decided to follow a book, some doctrine, dogma and perceptual truth rather than Him. I think words in general tend to be quite reductionistic, even if we have the best of motives. I think my blogpost is reductionist, but I am not claiming a doctrine here. I am just trying to being honest about my journey. I know I am ball of contradictions, I know this all too well. I am fine with them, they make wonderful companions for the journey. one contradiction sits and complains all day. another one, while sipping on a latte, sits and wonders about life, why we’re here, what is love? and who is God? another one, and he is a sarcastic guilt-driven one who thinks life might be about the answers, and tries to argue with me about how we might need some structure to make this all make sense. and then there is this new contradiction who has just turned up on the scene a few years ago….the one willing to ask all the questions, trying to recapture the child within, trying to see God if he is there…and on his terms…i am always fighting me…maybe not now, as I write this…but God is so much more than all of this…I know he is…but I wish I knew where he was, because he isn’t anywhere to be found because I have yet to hear him answer my prayers and give me what I want? God, where are you?

This box is about to be completely overcome by ennui, it’s all my FOUCAULT! It was me that put him up there so high, near enough to the ceiling for him to see that there is no Heaven after all and NO EXIT from loneliness. Now his plastic life is meaningless, and he’s stuck up there.  THE FALL from that height is probably fatal, i’m sure it would not be A HAPPY DEATH and the whole situation has completely messed up THE ORDER OF THINGS in my life! But at least I can be thankful for THE REPRIEVE from guilt I’m granted  by these conversations with THE IMAGINARY faces in my home.  But in truth,  it’s utter MADNESS AND CIVILIZATION can just suck it!

I could go on adNAUSEAum, for I do not lack THE WORDS, but it’s just getting too absurd.

I knew parenting would be hard……but I didn’t know it would be painful.

I don’t mean emotionally painful, fraught with worry, sunrise sunset blah blah (when you are as sarcastic as I am, you can quote Broadway and still maintain a nihilistic edge) I mean real, physical, acetaminophen lovin, shin numbing  pain.

And the little ditty, goes a sumthin like this:

• Son: I don’t want to go home. Indiana is boring.
• Me: Now son, how many times do I have to tell you. Indiana’s not boring, its a veritable black hole of misery, slowly sucking your will to live.
• Spouse: (kicks me in the shins)
• Me: Ow!

• Son: When I grow up, am I going to be a Woman?
• Me: Its highly unlikely, but don’t ever give up on your dreams!
• Spouse: (kicks me in the shins)
• Me: Ahhh!

• Spouse: Your son threw food at the teacher. Are you going to discipline him?
• Me: Why, did he miss?
• Spouse: (kicks me in the shins)
• Me: Argh!

All of the above stories have a similar theme. Me, parenting while sarcastic…..I’m only sarcastic three times a day, morning, noon and night……and continual flesh wounds of a Monty Python variety.

Its an undeniable universal irony that any impressionable mind would be molded even mildly by “nihilism personified” (registered trademark by Troy Inc.) but still, should such corporal punishment be regularly applied when I’m clearly, like Madonna in Desperately Seeking Susan, playing the role I was born to play?

I mean just because I hate myself doesn’t mean I want to change……dark, derigible, delusional, devolutionary and somewhat delovely…….hey, I gotta be me.

Shin guards, notwithstanding.

I saw a diet plan that said according to their study…”eating slowly will help you keep off the holiday pounds”

Which led to my follow-up study.  According to recent studies by Nocturnal Rudy “Fuck that shit”.  You can have a long meal…conversing and getting seconds…but if you aren’t in a major food coma or trying to figure out if it is possible to make it from the dining room table to the couch…then you’re not american….you’re american’t …or worse a Canadian

The only status updates more annoying than Farmville and Mafia Wars updates….are the status updates referring to those games…not generated by the game…Oh great suzy found a lonely fucking cow on farmville…i’m taking her lonely cow to my lonely slaughter house if she keeps that shit up.  But its not enough to hear about what level you’ve reached, or what orphaned animal you found…or who helped you with your plants…you feel that the hourly system generated updates aren’t enough so you have to post your own shout out to all of your farmville buddies….I play the fucking shit out of my Xbox360 and i think i may have had one or two statuses referring to it…and they always tend to just point out the fact that i know i’m a nerd.  Stop the madness people! If i see another lonely animal post…i’m going to post a comment that is a backstory on why your animal is lonely.  ”family was slaughtered and was the only one that survived…has animal night terrors…. Or Animal lonely due to social awkwardness…LOOK YOU TWO WILL GET RIGHT ALONG! …. “Animal chose wrong in natural selection” ….Your lonely duck just escaped from Donald Duck’s basement after Donald passed out from too much sodomizing and boozing.

So you know the saying “clean as a whistle” ?  I don’t understand any of that at all.  A whistle is dirty as shit.  Have you seen a kid use a whistle?  Its much like a kid using a water fountain…their mouth is covering the entire thing unnecessarily.  This makes the water fountain actually the dirtiest place in schools…no joke…worse than bathrooms…So then those little monsters get their uninteresting fact spewing mouths around a whistle and not only are they going to annoy the shit out of you blowing on it for two hours and trying to make songs “Hey watch this!” (they then precede to blow the same fucking high pitch note over and over but to different rhythms…also kids always say watch this…not listen to this…) Anyways…not only are they going to give you a splitting headache…they are going to be rocketing slobber out of the tiny opening of the whistle.  Wanna know how to win the war in Iraq?  Make sure a little kid’s got swine flu and then send him over to make up a bunch of his songs on the whistle.  Anyways…what i’m saying is that a whistle is dirty…and whistling itself while enjoyable is not clean either.

Speaking of whistling…is their anything more annoying than someone interrupting your whistle? This happens in 2 main ways.

1) You are whistling a song and someone else in the room starts whistling their own song…not only taking your stage time…but also throwing off your song enjoyment.

2) You are whistling the song and the next person joins in whistling but either a) doesn’t know the song.  or b) can’t whistle on key

So Tiger Woods huh?  That’s kind of fucking ridiculous.  You know how easy it would have been to get the whole one care accident thing taken care of….It could have been done in hours…instead of a week.  Oh…wasn’t looking where i was going hit the fire hydrant but when i was trying to re-correct i hit my neighbor’s tree…my bad.  This going along with your good reputation means…case fucking closed.  You can tell Tiger doesn’t have a long history with the law because he is the world’s worst excuse maker. Also, this interview which isn’t even mandatory you denied twice?  Once sleeping and once he just blew it off…if you were going to do that and make yourself look guilty of something..then just deny the interview in the first place…Ok so you got home at 2:25 in the morning but it had been said alcohol didn’t play a role….The crash was slow enough so the airbags did not deploy but you needed your wife to smash out the back windsheild and pull you out?  That makes no sense….Here’s what makes more sense…(and i want to believe its just an accident…but with recent developments this makes more sense) Tiger was out at the club…wife found out there was either a lady involved or he just wasn’t supposed to be at the club.  Tiger threatens to leave and as he’s starting the car his wife bashes out his back window.  In terror Tiger flees…directly into a fire hydrant…fearing his giant Sweed wife is going to catch up to him…he tries to get back on course and hits a tree instead.  Case closed….You know what would be interesting…seeing that neighbor’s spending habits over the next couple weeks…cuz i can bet Tiger threw a bit more cash than he needed for lawn repair…to keep the story straight.  Also, neighbor dude…why the fuck on the 911 call did you not mention its Tiger Woods laying on the road?!?!  And why, if you live across from Tiger can you not seem to get a phone that can keep reception during a 911 call…that’s just bush league dude.

What the fuck is a Zhu Zhu pet? i work at a store that sells them…i know they are little hampsters…but what the fuck do they do?  I get phone calls at my store in the middle of the night asking if we have them…people line up every day looking for them.  I know there is a hot toy every year…but i can’t imagine a “hot toy” getting thrown in the closet to be forgotten about quicker than the Zhu Zhu pet…wanna know what mother fucking toy of the year should be?

FUCKING DUCK HUNTER!! (please ignore lame ass music….but do not ignore the awesomeness)

If you don’t think that’s the best toy you’ve ever seen we’re not friends any more.

I am buying a fucking egg genie.

I don’t even know what this thing does.  If I had to guess…i’d say it allows you to grow baby chicks from everyday store bought eggs.  

But that’s not the reason to buy it…the reason is that you also get the Bacon Wake….nice play on words…i feel like pot heads everywhere will buy this the second they hear the name…as long as they get the energy to reach into their pocket for their phone.  It just basically lets you make bacon in the microwave.

Is there more…of corse there’s more you fucking moron.  The Magic Chop!  Its the same thing as the Slap Chop but it is significantly less able to defend you from prostitutes.

This product IS Eggsactly what i’m looking for!

So after starting speaking the praise of the egg genie i decided to watch this full commercial…the one i posted here doesn’t include the magic chop like the one on TV does.  I’m ok with the Egg Genie…but I like how they try to tell you a great feature is the loud blaring alarm telling you your eggs are ready.  ”Scare the shit out of your kids and family when they run for their lives when the eggs are ready.”  Then it just shows the dad shaking his head after he yelled fire and his whole family runs through the front door.  ”Now i can finally have my eggs!”  says dad and then it fades to black.  

Although this system is a bit annoying…wouldn’t it be great for couples trying to get pregnant….

“are you tired of the tricky rhythm method!?!?” (shows a couple fumbling over a calendar…and throwing it across the room)

“are you actually gay…a vagina disgusts you so you want to limit sex needed to have a child?”  (shows a gay guy poking at a vagina saying ICK!)

“is your partner awful at sex so you need the highest success rate possible?”  (girl yawning whilst banging)

WELL DO WE HAVE THE PRODUCT FOR YOU!

Eggs Ovary Easy!!!  Never miss the fertile period of the month with Eggs Ovary Easy!!!  (name would be trademarked with the exclamation marks). Eggs Ovary Easy!!! nestles comfortably in the vagina and gives you a gentle reminder when its time to fuck!  (then it shows the air raid siren sounding and the couple rushes up to the bedroom).  

Eggs Ovary Easy!!! extending the life of otherwised doomed relationships with the glorious gift of a child.

…Fucking pay me.

NEXT!

PETA is claiming that turkeys are tortured around thanksgiving.  I envision PETA members called to a meeting where they have elementary school artistic skills which they have used to render this house of horrors for turkeys.  Where they are put on “the rack” and have their feathers pulled one by one before being forced to pick which one of their turkey family members is the next to go…because we all know torture makes turkey taste better.

Yeah..fuck you PETA..I doubt Purdue sounds the alarm, and stops the assembly line because a turkey may have been about to be slaughtered before significant amounts of torture were endured..and then Will Purdue (not the owner of Purdue chicken…Will Purdue the ex-NBA player) dons his executioner hood and tortures the skipped turkey before resuming operations. Shut up PETA…I’m gonna donate a bunch of BOCA burgers to you fairies and it will be frozen Veal patties and you’ll all off yourselves after accidently ingesting them.

NEXT!

Obama just went over to China to talk about internet censorship but now Goggle has pulled a racist image of Michelle Obama off the internet?  Hmm…sounds a little hypocritical.  I think it would say a TON if he publicly rejected the fact that it had been pulled.  Though…it probably wouldn’t win much points with Segourney (those that follow my blog already know that Michelle Obama is black Sigourney Weaver)

NEXT!

Adam Lambert is a copy cat…He’s copied Janet and Justin,  as well as Brittney and Madonna by engaging in an act to solely create publicity…and guess what that shit worked again.  And now he’s copying Charles Barkley (His famous “I’m not a role model commercial”)?  ”I’m a performer…not a babysitter”  we’ll see..lets not get ahead of ourselves here…i give you about a year…and you will in fact be a babysitter.  Though, you might be a decent one…teaching young girls how to pull off the “smoky” makeup look.

NEXT!

fucking bed time…another long day at work…followed by lack of sleep…followed by long day at work….

But on a happier note….HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO EVERYONE!

All aboard the Express train to Hatesville.

While you are all enjoying your pumpkin pie this week i’ll be sort of enjoying pie too…only difference is mine is a tasty little number called bowling ball pie and its headed repeatedly for my head.  

All i see are Facebook statuses “SHORT WEEK!”  ”Can’t wait for the early weekend to start”  ”Thanksgiving”  ”im better than you because i don’t work retail”…Ok maybe not the last one…but the other ones…and while your joy over the short week is justified…it sucks when i know i’m working until saturday.  And that my store is closed 3 days a year and closes early 4…and i’ll be working all but christmas day. So while all of you are getting drunk…or watching football…or spending time with your family…or some possibility i can’t even imagine because i haven’t experienced a family holiday in almost 4 years…..I’ll be chucking freight…and stocking shelves so on friday you can get up on your next fucking day off and participate in great holiday deals….that i wont even get a chance to partake in.  Its kind of a slap in the face to stock everything at these great prices and then be told you can’t buy any because you weren’t in line….”well yeah i wasn’t in line because i was fucking working”.  So i’ll get to deal with the Tyson’s Corner traffic on black friday…but even if i came straight from work i’d miss out on all the deals.

Enjoy your tryptophan fuckers…i’ll be sleeping during the day too…but it isn’t a great nap..its what i do because i work fucking overnight.

If one more person asks me what i’m doing for Thanksgiving i’m just gonna punch them in the face…Multiple reasons. 1) it reminds me i’m doing nothing…because i cant 2) i don’t want the pity….its just a fact that i’m not doing anything…. 3) i am tired of trying to come up with a decent way to spin it so its not too awkward while having this conversation with the person.

OK enough of this live journal sounding shit…end of that rant…on to other random topics..
 

So anyways…who the fuck cares about Adam Lambert….What the fuck is so shocking about a gay guy kissing a dude…i’m pretty sure that’s what they are supposed to do.  I just though…eh…damn he sure did over act the shit out of that brief dude make-out session.  What would have shocked me is if he made out with a chick…or was able to touch one of the female dancers in a way that DIDNT look completely unnatural.   I had never heard of this guy and as i was flipping through the channels i came across what looked like it was a ridiculous performance.  And boy it didn’t disappoint…the guy can’t sing first off…he just screams a bunch…makes out with dudes and prances across the stage.  The only reason people should have been shocked was at the fact that he actually was invited to perform at this show.

A bonus from all of this…i’ve been trying out Adam Lambert references whenever possible.  So like when Pox and Ant had a Mother/Son wine drinking night yesterday I said i needed to go ahead and put a rush order in for their Adam Lambert CDs

And when go with the flow complained about his ankle…i thought…one more  complaint and he’s getting floor seats to the next Adam Lambert concert….So i know that this is going to pass soon…so there is limited time to beat this dead horse of a topic.

Speaking of “beating a dead horse” that statement is never actually meant.  See whenever someone says “I don’t mean to beat a dead horse”  what they really mean is “i don’t mean to beat a dead horse…but i’m about to pummel the shit outta one”

I think women were made physically weak as a safety precaution…or like a fuse….or irons that automatically turn off when you leave them plugged in.  

See they can snap all they want but without getting through a waiting period for a gun only so much can be done. And this is because when women come into existence…the second they are in the womb the body recognizes….”wow this is an irrational potential human…better add some security measures”.  

Check out Them Crooked Vultures…best CD i’ve heard in a while…

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“¿Tiene algo para declarar?” me preguntas y yo te pregunto a vos: ¿Si tengo algo para declarar? Claro que tengo algo para declarar. Aca parado en el aeropuerto pero también tengo algo para declarar en la vida misma. El que te diga que no, te miente flaca. Todos tenemos algo para declarar. Lo que no sé es si todos tienen las pelotas que tengo yo para decírtelo. ¿Algo para declarar? ¿Estás segura de que querés jugar a este jueguito? Declaro que estoy podrido de hacer la cola en la verdulería, mirá vos. Hago dos horas de cola para que venga algún amigo de Don Carlos y se lleve las mejores bananas. ¿Querés que siga declarando, oficial de la aduana? Declaro que me gusta la Susana desde que la vi en el baile del Loro y no dejo de pensar en ella. Declaro que me baño una vez por semana para no perder la costumbre. No me mires asi, flaca. Yo soy creyente. Creo en el olor corporal, creo en que cada uno tiene que oler como uno huele y no como las corporaciones quieren que huela. Alguien lo tenía que decir. Yo huelo como dice mi documento: Oscar Del Mango. No huelo Rexona, ¿se entiende el concepto? Pedro Rexona olerá como él quiera. Pero yo huelo a mi. Si te gusta, mejor para vos. Si no te gusta, seguí participando flaca. Como sigo participando yo cada vez que abro una puta botella de Coca. Porque yo tomo Coca, no tomo Pepsi. O sea, todo bien con Pepsi, deben ser buenas personas pero a mi no me gusta la Pepsi. Por mas que las dos se llamen “Cola” no tiene por qué gustarme, ¿no? Yo a los melli Voltini los conozco a los dos pero a Tito lo banco y al Pupi no y los dos se llaman Voltini. ¿Si tengo algo para declarar? Declaro que me tienen podrido los taxistas que te piden que les indiques el camino porque son nuevos. ¿Que soy? ¿Un cura? ¿Un Dios superior que tengo que indicarte el camino? No señor… vos elegiste ser taxista, entonces llevame a donde te pedí. ¿Dónde se vió? Debe ser el único laburo donde vos tenés que hacer lo que estás contratando y encima le pagás. Y nadie dice nada. Es como si llamaras a un carpintero y te diga: “¿Una mesa? Como no, acá tenés el serrucho… ¿No la hacés vos que soy nuevo en esto de la carpintería? Son cuatrocientos pesos”. Lo peor de todo es que le indicás igual al tachero: “Tomá por Córdoba derecho y doblás en Juan B Justo” le indicás. Al pedo porque el tipo termina agarrando por donde se le canta el traste. ¿Para qué me preguntás? Te parecés a mi esposa que me pregunta qué quiero cenar y después termino comiendo tarta de zapallitos. ¿”Milanesa” suena parecido a “Tarta” acaso? No me mires así, flaca. Vos me preguntaste. Que espere el avión, mirá lo que te digo. ¿Está apurado el señor capitán? Que espere. Vos me dijiste “¿Tiene algo para declarar?” y bueno, acá estoy, declarando. Declaro que no bajo la tabla del inodoro. La dejo arriba. Que la baje el que venga después. ¿Yo la tuve que subir? que la baje otro. Si viene una mina que la baje y listo. Que baje la tabla y que baje los humos ya que está. No se de dónde carajos se bajan los humos, ¿no? porque todo el mundo te dice que bajes los humos pero yo no se de donde. A mi hablame claro. Si querés que me calme me calmo pero no me pidas que baje los humos porque los humos no se bajan, se huelen. Como todo esto de si tengo algo para declarar que me huele mal, me huele a gato encerrado. A gato con botas. Como las que compré en Miami hace dos días. Así que eso tengo para declarar: un par de botas. Si te gusta bien y si no te gusta, a cantarle a Gardel. Si lo encontrás.

[texto bajo licencia Safe Creative / todos los derechos reservados]

Wisconsin comedy fans are Andi Smith’s kind of people.

“Dry, sarcastic, and generally a bit tipsy,” the Janesville native quips.

Harnessing an untamed originality since she ditched a “soul-sucking” gig as a website designer, Andi unleashes scathing wit and dry-edged humor on unassuming crowds who don’t fully realize how funny girls can be too.  The two-time “Last Comic Standing” player and young Comedy Central talent leaves fans in hysterics, albeit feeling a little dirty, as she mouths off on unusual targets.

Like (wheelchair-ridden) porn king Larry Flynt, foster kids and cosmetically enhanced busts.

When Andi ravages the stage, nothing’s off limits and everything’s up for jabs — including Obama’s Nobel Peace Prize, do-good cheerleader types and her own mom. Like a backstage conversation that should call for whispering, Andi’s brutally honest, always entertaining set keeps audiences salivating for more.  She brings the goods to the Skyline Comedy Cafe this Thanksgiving week — Nov. 25 and 27-28.

Let’s get to know her, shall we?

Any embarrassing or kicka$% nicknames you grew up with?

I think my favorite was “King Size Kerri Silla.”  She was an albino and I was fatter.

Who would you wanna go up against in a stand-up comedy battle, and why?

Kerri Silla.  She isn’t that funny.

Best part about being a comedian?

Not having to get up early. That’s pretty much the best part.

Who’s your biggest fan?

I’m not sure, although I did get a fan letter recently from a group of inmates who saw a “Last Comic Standing” rerun.  Thanks Ray Ray.

Guiltiest pleasure you’d really rather not admit, but will anyway for Skyline fans?

I cried at the end of The Nanny Diaries.

All right, moving on… You’re brilliant on stage, first off. The delivery, material. Really. Where did you learn the stand-up comedy ropes?

Every comedian I’ve ever worked with taught me something.  I think delivery and material though are something that has to come from you.  I blame a lot of it on my mother.

Do your folks, family, friends have fond memories of you being “a comedian” when you were a kid? And…did your jokes ever get you in trouble?

I wasn’t the class clown or a funny kid or anything. I had one friend growing up and we laughed a lot. I think I owe a lot of my humor to Wisconsin.  I maintain that Wisconsin people are some of the funniest people in the world. Dry, sarcastic, and generally a bit tipsy.

You record a lot of your performances for DVD memorabilia and what not…It’s gotta be weird going back and watching yourself perform.

I can’t watch myself.  I have heard all the jokes and therefore don’t think it’s funny.

Let’s talk about crowds, since they’re sort of essential to a comedian’s career.  Give us your memory of the best, and worst, you remember since starting.

The best crowds are the ones who laugh… A lot. The worst one (there are some contenders for this title) might have been a bar in Kansas where 3 people were arrested in the back of the room.

You’re coming to Appleton this week, where we’re obviously known for our cheese, drinking and entertainment junkies. What goes through your mind when you’re pondering a trip to the Skyline?

Cheese, drinking, and good thrift stores.  I grew up in Janesville, WI, so performing in Wisconsin is my favorite.  They’re the only ones who get references about Alpine Valley, Shakey’s Pizza Buffet, and corn mazes.

What kinds of things are irking you these days? Anything we’ll hear about in your set?

Sarah Palin. I hope she gets pelvic inflammatory disease.

When you get up on stage, any preconceived notions people have about Andi Smith being just this cute, nice ‘girl next door’ type go out the window…Do you still feel like you have something to prove when you get up there, being a woman? Like, “hey, girls are funny too.”

I think there is still a lot of people who think women aren’t funny.  I think that there are a handful of really funny female comics and then, like any other profession, the rest of them are just sluts with notebooks.

So, you’re on stage doing your thing. Are you solely focused in the moment, or what kind of stuff is running through your head up there?

I have fun. Or at least I try.  I love being on stage. I’m usually thinking “I hope I don’t suck.”

What’s your take on having family or friends watch you perform?

I think it’s like a lot of times you’re out having fun… You hope your parents don’t show up.  I like when friends and relatives come out to the shows though. It makes it more fun.

You’re one of three brilliant minds behind RooftopComedy.com, which the Skyline partnered with a while back. Like all great ideas, we’re curious where that one came from…

It’s a long story but I’ve always thought that Open Mic Nights are the most interesting part of comedy.  The idea was originally to put open mic nights online–the good sets, the bad sets, they’re all funny. The idea has changed a lot but the goal is still the same… Give new comedians a place to be seen.

Sweet. Well, we’re obviously going to refer fans to your website–snowflakehead.com. But first, why ’snowflakehead’? Nickname?

It was part of a joke I had about being pale (smiles).  Andi Smith was already taken.

Catch Andi Smith live this week only at the Skyline Comedy Cafe (Nov. 25 & 27-28).  Stop back every week to catch up with the biggest, most current names in the live comedy game.

Andi Smith Online

Comedy Central

MySpace

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I think the whole vampire phenom thing originally got started by a bet.  Seriously, how did vampires and werewolves make it into chick flicks.  I thought they were only for Halloween…now they are for Halloween and 13 year old girls.  But wait….its not just 13 year old girls…i know numerous amounts of girls and a certain large roommate of mine that have also fallen for this craze.  FUCK!  Its just another chick flick.  They bet, who can come up with a worst topic…and then who could make the most money.  One person wrote a screen play built for Lindsey Lohan where she falls in love with a girl and they are both junkies…then real life hit where she was in love with the strange chick DJ and the person had to throw out the idea entirely.  That left the second idea.  Girl falls in love with vampire and doesn’t know how to deal with this forbidden love and also manages to stumble on to an ancient war brewing…

Oh wait…this is also “Trueblood”  ”Underworld” and now the “Twilight” sagas.  They are all just pitched to different audiences…I believe one person is probably behind all of them…just raking in the cash.

Trueblood: Girl falls in love with vampire…finds out she has weird powers…blah blah blah…basically vampire story + Chick flick + a lot of sex… So the sex sets it apart

Underworld: Girl is part vampire…falls in love with werewolf….basically  Blade + love story + werewolves + Evanescence album….Focuses on action movie…adds some romance to get the girls in the seats too.

Twilight:  Girl falls in love with vampire?  Vampires + werewolves + chick flick….dumbs things down a bit to get a younger audience.

Fuck all these movies…and books.   

Thanks hollywood…vampires and werewolves have now turned into little whiney emo kids…just let us keep superheroes and zombies….please

Family Guy isn’t funny anymore.

Pockets originally brought this to my attention and after watching a few of the new episodes i have agreed.  My reasons?  While their asides and references were part of what made it funny…now there is even Less of a central plot of each episode…and now that ratings have been kind to them they just try to push more and more offensive things on us. The one that crossed the line for me?  

“That’s almost as bad as waking up to a Palestinian alarm clock”  Then you hear “Allah Akbar” and the house blows up.  Now normally this would just be a racist and unfunny joke…but seeing as though the shootings at Ft. Hood had just happened and the joke had NO BEARING on the actual plot of the episode…how necessary was it to keep it in…And this is coming from me…who is pretty much anti-censorship.  I’m just saying that its not only in bad taste…its arrogant and un-needed. 

I know these episodes are done in advance…but how hard would it have been to cut 15 seconds off of an episode…especially 15 seconds that had nothing to do with the rest of the episode.

Their characters are still funny…but they are coming up with less ways to tell the same jokes.  It used to be humorous to hint a Stewie being gay…but now they are just trying to see if they can shock people with what they can make a bi-curious baby say.  The other episode Stewie had water poured on his face while he was sleeping and he said “oh yeah, give it all to me Jake Gyllenhaal”.  Yeah, we get it…Stewie is supposed to be gay…but now its not even subtle.

I give Famly Guy two more seasons max…the viewership will fall off…again…and though i was originally a huge fan of the show…its going to get to the point where there are no episodes…just a series of 10 second flash backs and obscure references.

Fact: 3 out of every 19 hand turkeys are known to be offensive or lewd.  Found this out during fakesgiving.. see we had fake thanksgiving and required everyone to make hand turkeys (you know…where you trace your hand and make the thumb into a head).  And only one ended up with a set of balls…one showing off her tits…and one with a penis. I’d say that’s pretty decent.  What was great though…the build up of the turkeys.  Everyone started looking at the ones we already posted on the window…people were looking at other peoples…not only for ideas but to make sure they could one up them…or atleast ensure they could also be original…It was great seeing a bunch of people in their mid-20s stressing about how their fucking “HAND TURKEY” was going to turn out.  Also, i didn’t realize the hand turkey needed explanation but people kept on forgetting to connect where their palm would be….basically creating a bunch of disemboweled turkeys.

Remember Christmas Lists?

They day that first Toys ‘R Us catalogue that was the day as a kid you started losing your shit…Christmas was here..you thought…time to do work.  Thats when you’d go on a circling spree…though my parents eventually went for the alternate system…me and my brother would put together chrismas collages basically…we’t cut out what we wanted and it all had to fit on one sheet of paper.  Maybe that because the circling defeats the purpose when you’ve circled 5,000 items from Toys ‘R Us and the traditional list was just absurd when it started nearing 100.  My parents had to be thinking “these greedy little fuckers” and Dad specifically had to be losing hair over the fact that every additional item on the list was another potential thing my mom could buy for us…sinking money into a toy we’d be done with a few weeks after Christmas.  You remember the build up of getting your presents…only to find that toy you wanted SOOO much to be collecting dust a few weeks later.  

1 example of this:  Creepy Crawlers Oven (this was the oven where you could make little plastic bugs and animals with custom colors).  Was fun as shit for a week or two until you got tired of burning your finger tips accidently touching the metal tray or trying to pry your creations out too early.  I thought it was so fun for a while though…making all my wacky colored spiders and scorpions…but a few weeks later we just owned an unneeded fire hazard.

well that’s all i’ve got…

It occurs to me, based on suggestions and comments from the readers here, that I failed to include some important points in the last post. They are as follows:

DO:

• Lean up against poles inside the train, keeping other riders from using them for their intended purpose.
• Sing along with your music. We want to hear exactly how tone-deaf you are
• Part of the Sudoku puzzle in the WaPo Express. We’re too lazy to do the first half and we need our newspaper half used.
• Sit on an outside seat when an inner seat is not occupied. You should be taking up all the space you possibly can without sitting next to another rider. Also, if someone asks if they can please sit in the inner seat, give them a dirty look and grudgingly move so that they can sit next to you. Alternatively, just tell them they can’t sit there at all. That’s actually preferred.
• Cut in front of people when getting off the train and going up or down an escalator. Do this at every possible opportunity, otherwise you’ll be left behind that person with a stroller and a kid blocking your path upstairs (or downstairs) to your next train.
• Keep your backback/large purse on if you are standing, obstructing other riders’ movement. It allows other riders to have a makeshift armrest or pillow and keeps them from having access to extra space, which no one EVER wants on Metro.
• Awkwardly hold on to one of the poles between other peoples’ hands when there is little room to do so.  It’s as close as you can get to holding hands with them. Bonus points if they move their hand while awkwardly looking away.
• Stare at other riders. They love it when you do that, especially without reason to do so. You might want to even go the extra mile and stare them down entirely while sneering. This intimidating technique is especially useful for getting a spot in the seat they’ll probably flee trying to get away from you.

DON’T:

• Use your inside voice. We’re all deaf and can’t hear you; speak up especially when talking about your boring day, annoying co-workers, that jerk ex-boyfriend of yours, etc.
• Say excuse me
• Cover your mouth when you sneeze or cough
• Move out of the way near the doors when riders need to enter or exit. You’ll lose your spot and might have to move!
• Mind your own business – it is your job to know what that girl next to you is giggling about that’s on her BlackBerry, what book the man standing next to you is reading, and what article the intern sitting in front of you printed out.

I’m sure there are more suggestions – I’m open to them, and will post them as they are submitted.

There is no technique out there better than push pull. Its genius-

Art Of Push Pull

that’s the only way to describe it! Its one of those concepts that’s deeply rooted in psychology. People want what they can’t have and people want to know what they don’t understand. That’s why it works.  Later I will give you a few examples of how to make it work.

Push pull is teasing, it presents something to someone then you pull it away as the person almost has it. By definition push pull is pulling in a girl emotionally, by a certain action, and then pushing her away with another.

Swinggcat is known for his practice of push/pull and the idea of Prizability. Push/pull is actually an amazing skill and works with pretty much every girl I’ve met. Below are some of Swinggcats examples of push/pull. Check out his amazing ebook. Get it here.

Examples of Push/Pull by Swinggcat

Push-Pull Example #1 (Pick Up Example)

I grabbed a woman’s hand and said, you have the most amazing smile I’ve seen tonight It makes me feel so happy inside!

She responded with, thank you!

Then I counted the fingers on my other hand and said, you know what: actually there were four other girls with really amazing smiles tonight as well. Out of them, you have the fourth best smile. I’m going to call you number four.

And then I pushed away her hand.

She demanded, Nooo! I want to be number one!

And I replied, Alright, I’ll promote you to number three for being feisty.

Push-Pull Example #2 (Sarcasm)

A woman replied sarcastically to something I said.

So I said to her, “You know… you’re pretty sarcastic… and some people might think you’re mean because they don’t get your sarcasm. But I think your sarcasm is cool because I’m the same way. I’m also sarcastic. And that’s exactly why you and I could never hang out. ‘Cause if we did we’d have the best time making fun of everyone in our environment at their expense. And that’d be karmicly bad ’cause then all the people we made fun of would have low self esteem.”

She responded with, “Nooo. We have to hang out. You’re giving me your number right now.”

Push-Pull Example #3

I challenged a woman to kiss me… and she did.

So I said, “You’re more adventurous than I thought. You get an A-. And you have permission to cook me dinner.”

She retorted with, “What type of food do you want me to cook you?”

Women Get Aroused Differently Than Men!

For most women, it’s a huge turn on when a man gets them all hot and bothered… and then stops touching them, making them anticipate his touch… and then starts again, exponentially increasing their arousal.

This is exactly the same as the underlying structure of Push-Pull…

And probably why many women are natural Push-Pull artists.

LET ME SAY THAT AGAIN. Woman are natural push-pull artists!

And as you saw with the examples above…

Push-Pull can be used to generate arousal and attraction inside women before you ever become intimate with them (A truism most men don’t realize).

I want you to do something…

Touch your arm with your hand very lightly, as if it were a feather… and then take your hand away.

If you did it right you’ll feel an itching sensation.

Touch your arm again lightly… and then take your hand away.

The itching sensation should have increased, yes?

Push-Pull has the same structure.

Whenever you emotionally Pull a woman into you and then Push her away… and then Pull her in… and so on, you’re creating inside her a sexual and emotional itch to want and reach and chase for more of you.

If you do this in a playful way, women won’t see you as a manipulative jerk.

They’ll instead…

* See you as charming and attractive.
* Perceive you as a Prize they must possess.
* Know that you’re one of the few coveted men that understand what arouses and attracts women.
* Be itching with attraction toward you.

There are a few examples Here

But if you want to full course get hold of real world seduction here,

The Love tHat GrabbEd me BAck

Yeah, I’ve always been the weirdest and sarcastic person ever been known by me and I suppose the people who once knew me.

I am “the hated”, the black sheep in white sheep’s clothing.

I have always believed my life of pain and hatred that at least nobody can and would dare to love me. I was just so unlovable, simply because I myself don’t know how to show it. I was really unloving. Yeah, I wasn’t loving, I was rather hating!

Well if you could evaluate me by your standards, I could say I would fail. Well, who will like a person who don’t like to talk to you. Keeps silent, as if he hears no one. Would you like a person who shows signs that he don’t like you. Frowns, sage-like nods, etc. Just make a clear description of a kind of person that you would hate and you can count me in!

I had always chose to hurt rather than heal. I don’t know why, but my vocabulary just picks those painful words. The sad thing about me that time was, I tell people all lies. But if the Truth is just not what they want, well, Truth just came out to them the harsh way.

I never really loved anybody before. I need to apologize to all the girls who thought I have loved before. Yeah, I need to be honest with you. I was definitely lying to your face that time. I am just a great lyer, am I not? (Again I apologize, I don’t think this would matter to you by now. But, I know this would hurt you at some extent.)

I was a liar, a thief, a deceiver, a troublemaker drawing everybody close to trouble, the Hater and the Hated who hates a million times back, as evil as one can be. Who would love me? Who would care for me? Who can understand? Who would dare to be close to me?

Even my cousins don’t go near me anymore. Even the children curse me. Even, my own parents left me to struggle. Who then can I trust? NOBODY!

If his love was true, he would have heard me when I spent my night crying and praying to him! If he really was love, He would been at my side, when there’s nobody that I could really trust.

“Who hears me when I pray? Or is somebody really there listening whenever I pray? Is he sleeping each time I pray? Is he always on break each time I pray? Why does when I call to him no one seems to answer? I must be fooling myself here, no one really is up there to listen! Why should I call to somebody that doesn’t exist?”, I said to myself.

DETOUR>

Well, I was invited by a leader of that ministry,well, I did not have any idea that it was a ministry then. All I know is that I have found a family that loves me even when I don’t love back.

Well in that closed pink room, the leader have me seated on one of the beds. And I was just thinking,”what might this thing be?”

His voice were so gentle, the kind of gentleness that I don’t think I really deserve. But he was gentle, so I imitated his gentleness.

There was just something inside that room, that had really  penetrated my whole being. And I was still unable to understand it and withstand it.

The leader started speaking and for the first time, I became attentive to something which is related to a God. It was like my spirit was excited of something that is about to happen.

As the leader asked me,” do you believe in the Bible?”
My initial answer was a big “No”. I was really at nowhere that time, and I forgot my sarcasm.

He told me how legitimate the Bible is. And for the first time, I believed on it with all my heart. Somebody I don’t know was helping me to believe. I can even hear an inaudible voice that speaks so gentle and kind, aside from the words that are uttered by the leader.

My heart was kinda crushed when I realized that I’m in the wrong way. All of these times I’ve been believing that I was unloved. That I wasn’t heard. That I was fooled by God. All of the years that I believed the he plays with me. All of those was wrong. I was the one who hindered him from coming into my life. My sins just hid his face before me that I can’t be heard, though he was trying to hear me.

I remembered how I hated God before. HOw I accused him of not loving me. How I accused him of being a hypocrite. How I accuse him of being untrue. Those words just came back to me, and crushed my heart the more.

How could I hate the one who died for me? Oh, how cruel am I to say those things to be heard by him. How could I do that to the one who came to my rescue and died to rescue me?

My heart was just crushed! It was like it fell on a stone, as though the pieces of it just shattered and scattered around. My heart groan in pain, of the truth that was just delivered from heaven.

Who am I now that the Lord of Heaven should come down to rescue me? Who am I now that I should deserve to be considered as his son? Who am I now that he should suffer for the things that I did, for the all the wrong things that I enjoyed doing? Or Am I even worthy to escape the punishment that is set for me?

“I don’t deserve this!”, I said to myself after he have me read the scriptures that points out his love.

I remembered all the things that I did, from the lies to those evil tactics and deeds that I schemed. I was just so worst! I CANNOT REPAY THIS GREAT KINDNESS THAT THE LORD HAS SHOWN ME. I CANNOT EXPLAIN WHY HE DID THAT, BUT HE DID!

After a long while, at last I believed that love exist. Yeah TRUE LOVE STILL EXISTS! AND IT IS WITH THE LORD!

This world cannot contain his kindness. And no one will ever worthy to be compared to Him! NO ONE EVER IS LIKE HIM!

My heart was just pounding back and forth. My tears flowed like rivers of water, I cannot ever express how I felt. And all I have in his presence was gratitude.

And after that, I was never the same again.

Author: Dan Savage
Title: The Kid: What Happened When My Boyfriend and I Decided To Go Get Pregnant, An Adoption Story

Genre: Non-Fiction, Gay
Publication Date: 1999
Number of Pages: 256
Geographical Setting: U.S.
Time Period: Modern Day
Series: yes (Skipping Towards Gomorrah, The Commitment: Love Sex Marriage and Family)
Plot Summary: Famous sex column (Savage Love) writer Dan Savage writes about life as a gay man with a quirky, and in your face sense of humor. In The Kid Dan picks up where he left off in Skipping to Gomorrah. Dan and his partner Terry set off to have a child through adoption. Dan details the experience with a heavy dose of sarcasm, and humor which keeps the sometimes heavy topics of longing to be a parent coupled with discrimination light and funny. Dan takes us through the ups and downs of the process: the seminars with the adoption agency; the agony of waiting to be picked by a birth mother; the fears that she would change her mind and keep the baby; and the trying relationship with both the birth mother and the baby’s biological father.

Subject Headings: GLBT Family, Gay Adoption, Gay parenting,
Appeal: accessible, humorous, quirky, intriguing, witty, nonfiction, fast paced, family, discrimination, sociatal norms, character centered, compelling, funny, sarcastic, introspective, political, (some strong language, and sex-the author writes a sex column)
3 terms that best describes this book: Adoption, Gay Parents, Humor.
Similar Authors and Works
Non-Fiction:
• Skipping Towards Gomorrah by Dan Savage- The beginning of the journey to find love and acceptance as a Gay man.
• The Commitment by Dan Savage- First comes love, then baby, then Marriage…If it’s legal.
• 21^st Century Gay by John Malone Williams- Looks at sexuality in history and the events that have influenced the gay movement.
Fiction:
• Don’t Get Too Comfortable: The Indignities of Coach Class, The Torments of Low Thread Count, The Never- Ending Quest for Artisanal Olive Oil, and Other First World Problems by David Rakoff- The story of a a new U.S. citizen and the trials and tribulations of life in the land of excess.
• When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris- Sarcastic and funny essays about life as a smoker and a homosexual in France.
• Payment In Full by Henry Denker- Rebecca and David, a young Jewish couple, have no children, however when they are the only ones left to raise an eight-year-old African American girl, they decide to form a loving family unit, against society’s mores.

Name: Laura Bartnik

This page is strictly dedicated to making it easier for you to filter through my crap, to get to the kernels of truth and inspiration.

So basically I have everything in groups of what they are with subgroups, and eventually subgroups of the subgroups until it’s an endless clicking off buttons to find that one small truth that is actually a lie. If you are wondering why I would do this as my first page, well it’s simply because I don’t trust you average humans to actually be able to work the computer and use the buttons on the right side of your screen. So here it is:

My Introduction!

Who am I?

Conversations

Daily Definition

Ideas

Music

Politics (yes i know, one of the things never to bring up)

Religion (Yep, the 2nd one too)

Thoughts (Oh dear deity, that I worship or possibly do so in the future, or have in the past, Forgive me for this one)

Conspiracy theories and their relevance
If any…

All in all this site is going to be under construction for quite sometime, but I will do my best at keeping this up to date, and full of interesting little tid bits. After all, If I don’t who the hell will?

-LokiVash-

I wrote a story about the neighborhood I live in, and it turned the place upside down. Accusations of abuse, illicit drug use, coat tail riding and excessive dog hair. All of these accusations have been directed toward me, all because I said what I wanted to about people whom I choose not to socialize with anymore. They have called me every name you could imagine and even took on different personas to verbally (I use that term very loosely) abuse my wife and children while responding to the story that is posted online. I wish this story wasn’t true, but seriously, I can’t make this shit up.

Facebook. A virtual place to network, reconnect and catch glimpses of peoples lives, if you allow them. I “friended” a few of my neighbors on Facebook, but never have I considered them my friends. It was more of a gesture of kindness rather than I-want-to-get-to-know-you better gesture. I would post stories and links to my writing and when they would see me on the street or at the bus stop, they would compliment me, tell me how funny and talented I was. I don’t take compliments well, no matter where they come from, but I was still pleased that people enjoyed what I wrote. I never pretended to be their friend, nor has my wife or children for that matter. I despise hypocrites and ignorant people drive me bat shit and in my opinion, that’s what some of my neighbors turned out to be. So I wrote a story about the neighborhood (changing all the names to protect the stupid), the way I see it, through my eyes. I un-friended them on Facebook and then the shit hit the fan.

Leslie, who is the forty-something-frosted hair-muppet sounding-coochie flashing-Bon Jovi fanatic emailed my wife and asked her why I un-friended her on Facebook. My wife didn’t respond and she never asked me the numerous times we would cross paths at our childrens bus stop. She read the story which was posted on my “blog” (by blog I really mean a place to park my stories until one day someone would pay me oodles of money for them) and wrote several nasty emails to me, telling me that I was a “horrible person” and she is going to “pass the story to the entire neighborhood, so they can see how horrible I really am.” My first thought was “GREAT!” More people will get to see my writing. My second thought was, “is she really going to show this to other people? I mean, she flashed her forty something BonJovi loving vagina to people, does she really want to admit that?” Apparently she does.

Shortly thereafter I received an email from Nickleback’s wife. Nickleback is another character in the neighborhood, who would rather blast a song about a blow job at one in the morning than get one from his wife. Now if I spoke a paragraph worth of words to her in three years, that would be generous. Her email was laden with psychological evaluations, and scolding me for “dragging people’s character through the mud”. My retort was “the names are changed, do you really think someone in Tuscaloosa, Alabama reading my words are going to know who I’m writing about?” And asking me why I “moved to the neighborhood in the first place.” Really? I’m going to assume that there is an equal opportunity housing code somewhere that states you are not allowed to tell prospective buyers of a home that at the other end of the block live people who will judge you because you don’t hang out with them. It’s not like you can Google the neighborhood and get the douche bag factor of a certain house. If that were the case, I wouldn’t have moved here in the first place. Get it. You don’t know what you’re getting into when you buy a home, it’s like the biggest gamble of your life, but we all take the risk and have to deal with the consequences. Oh, Nickleback’s wife didn’t send another email, she got the point. And this was just the tip of the coochieberg.

Days went by and I started getting strange comments on my blog post. Really strange. They were from a “writer” named “Jeremy”. He was telling me that my writing was too negative, I have no ethics and he was keeping me on watch, I was going in the “book of those who write negative”. Being the most inquisitive person I know, I started doing some research. First was to check the email address of the person leaving all of this gobblygook. The blog site I use as I’m sure most of them are like this, require you to leave an email address if you are going to leave a comment. “Jeremy’s” email address was there and it was his entire name at gee mail. I thought wow, that was easy. I Google his name and guess what, nothing. I then email “Jeremy” and ask him who he writes for and where I can view his published work. He never responds. On this site they also list the IP address and I thought, awesome, at least I can see where this alleged writer lives. I Google the IP address and you’ll never guess where it was located, yes, the town I live in. By the power of deduction I figured it to be one of two people, Coochie Flasher or Tight Walls. But Tight Walls is a neanderthal and can barely form a sentence. That only left one suspect, the one who sounds like Gonzo from the Muppets sucked helium while riding those really bumpy roads on a test track. Coochie Flasher Leslie.

My wife then receives an email from the big horticultural hypocrite across the street, the one who thinks the word decapitation is not age appropriate, but condones violent video games for her first grader. This email was also drenched with accusations of abuse and psychological evaluations. We had no idea that we lived on a block full of Dr.’s and PhD’s. The hypocrite had explained to my wife in this email that she notices signs of abuse happening to my wife and children. Really? And this is the first you mention it? You don’t say anything for almost a year and now all of a sudden she gets called on her shit and the accusations fly? Funny how she left her son with me numerous times this past summer, so she had no regard for his safety? Again how much more of a hypocrite can you be? In my opinion, none, she is like Rush Limbaugh and Ted Haggart, two of the biggest people who talk out of the side of their mouth for a living. Meanwhile her son, who will lie about almost everything, told her that my son looks sad all the time on the bus. We asked our son and he said “I’m not sad, I’m happy”. But hypocrites son said you were sad on the bus and his immediate response was “he cut in front of me on the bus last week, that’s why I was sad”. Straight from the mouths of babes. So no more communications has happened between us and her, good thing because I couldn’t stand there and be silently judged by this horticultural psychologist, she should stick to talking to plants.

The comments on my story were getting more frequent, more personal and more libelous. Leslie was now making wild accusations, alleging that we broke our daughters arm on purpose and that we neglect our children. Again, if you’ve noticed all of this abusive behavior and haven’t contacted the proper authorities, what good are you as a parent yourself? She said that I drink as much as her husband Dean. Yes, I enjoy beer every now and again, and I even get drunk on a very rare occasions, but to be dependent on alcohol to deal with listening to Bon Jovi and a Muppet voice constantly, I am not. And the last time I checked I didn’t need a breathalyser installed in my car to prove to the ignition that I was sober. Nor did I have to ask Club Mommy to blow in it to start the car so I could get more booze. Yes he did ask her to blow and not just in the breathalyser.

More comments were being posted which added more hits to my blog. She was emailing this story to everyone she knew. Hundreds of people on a daily basis were checking in to see if anything else was being written. I was at the bus stop one morning with my children and Tight Walls Dean decides to wake from his Jim Beam slumber to take his daughter to the bus stop. I’m standing there with my children and he comes up from behind me and gets way too into my personal space and asks in a Chicago-guido way “You got a problem?”. Last I checked I don’t have any more problems then the average person on the street, but this is no average street. I tell him “No, you have the problem, deal with it.” He goes on and on about how I’m fuckin’ this and I’m fuckin’ that, all in front of the children. He didn’t have the common decency to wait until they were on the bus. But I’m the loser, no one likes me. Good thing because with friends like him, well you get the point. He also tells me that he’s been in my house and saw excessive dog hair, and how filthy I live. Really? Well I’m sorry that I have dogs and I was on vacation, thanks for letting me know. Oh, did I mention that his tight walls only lasted a week or two before his basement flooded. Yes all the bragging about how it took him almost a year to finish his basement and get the tightest walls ever, were washed away because you didn’t service your sump pump. Thought you might like that. Anyway, things are getting heated and he’s getting more aggressive.

Words are exchanged and he screams “I’m gonna kick your ass!”. I ask him to, “please, please kick my ass.” He gets in my face, literally, his nose to my chin, like Ivan Drago and Rocky Balboa, yelling at me to hit him, while flecks of Jim Beam spittle jump off his mouth. I don’t move a muscle, I’m staring him down and begging him to hit me. He says “I’m not gonna do it!” What? All this for nothing? He just proved what a giant douche bag he really is. I mean who says they’re gonna kick your ass and then get to the stare down and not throw a punch? Tight Walls, that’s who. I haven’t been in a fight since the eleventh grade and back then I got my ass kicked, but the last thing I was going to do was back down from a bully in front of my kids. The children get on the bus and he still did nothing. He and his wife are obviously a match made in one of the seven layers of Hell, she flashes her pussy and he is one. I feel sorry for their daughter, I just hope they can keep her off the pole.

After that incident there was a brief lull on the blog. I went to New York and my wife was going to the bus stop with not a word uttered to her. Fantastic. It’s over. But little did I know what was going to happen next. It’s Halloween, I’m at my mothers apartment and calling to check on the kids and wife to see if there is any ding dong ditching, toilet papering or egg throwing happening to my house. The neighbors had no idea that I was not home. I’m checking my email and low and behold what do I notice? More nonsensical comments from the Coochie flasher on my blog. Telling me the the neighborhood is wondering where I am and that I’m too much of a pussy to answer the door. I proceed to email her and tell to leave my wife and kids alone. No more email responses from the queen of the silent vagina monologues.

I then notice an email from our phone company telling me that I have a new voice mail. We have our voice mail sent to our email so we can hear it wherever we are. I didn’t recognize the number, but the voice was unmistakeably familiar. It was a female Muppet, with the slur of a drunken sailor, I’m surprised I didn’t hear Bon Jovi in the background. She went on a two and a half minute rant about how “the neighborhood wants me to come to the door so they can kick my ass” and “where are your wife and kids, are you beating them?”. Then there was this “momentarily you will have people at your doorstep, I’ve called the Lake In The Hills Police department and they know you, the neighborhood talk will be whether or not you answer your door you puss”.

I call my wife and ask her if the doorbell has been ringing and she says yes, but she has not answered it, it is Halloween, so a ringing doorbell is to be expected. I hang up and think that everything is OK, the neighbors are drunk and being the people that they are, douche bags. Then I get a phone call from my wife. Tight Walls was at our door ringing the bell incessantly, screaming for me to come outside, my wife told him I was not here and to just leave. He, being the belligerent disrespectful drunk that he is, starts to yell and curse at her! Calling her bitch, asshole and the ever sacred never call a woman word, cunt. I tell her to call 911. She made the phone call and they are on their way. While she is waiting for the Police a second phone call is made and this one is even more vile and nonsensical at the same time. The Coochie Flasher is sounding more drunk saying things like “I have friends in the police department, I asked if I could toilet paper your house and they gave me things to talk about, miss fashion K-Mart.” “They all know how psychotic you two are, you are really nuts. Everybody knows you!” and then the icing on the crazy cake “your husband was kissing me, he told me how much he hated you! He know all about my dry pussy because he stuck his dick in it!”. Now that’s about the most craziest thing I’ve ever heard of, seriously, I’d rather bang my Dyson vacuum then some big assed, Bon Jovi loving apparently dried up forty something year old pussy.

The police arrive and my wife is telling them the story and playing back the voicemail for the officer, when out of sheer stupidity the doorbell rings, and guess who it is, Tight Walls. Did he not see the police car in the driveway? How much of a drunk do you have to be? That has to go down in history as one of the dumbest things to do, ever. Gee officer I didn’t notice your car in the driveway, I’m here to harass these people, that’s OK right? Well the officer answered the door and said “You’re exactly the person I want to talk to.” With that being said the officer leaves and takes Tight walls to his home, three houses down. We did not hear anything for about an hour. My first thought is that they were showing him my stories. And guess what, they did. More fans for me!

I’m on the phone back and forth with my wife asking her what’s going on and she has no idea. I’m getting frustrated, nothing is being done. What the hell could they be doing down there? Finally the officer arrives and tells my wife that she does “have a case of telephone harassment, in Illinois it’s a Class B misdemeanor, would you like to press charges?” And my wife’s initial response was “no just tell them to leave us alone”. What? Really? These people will never leave us alone, until we move, which we planned on doing in the very near future. I ask her to reconsider and logically explain the circumstances. The only way these people will stop is if they are told to stop by the authorities. My wife agrees and guess what, they went down to the Coochie Flashers house and arrested her. Handcuffs and all. My wife had to wake the kids and go down to the police station to file a report. That’s almost enough justice for me, but to top it all off, her husband couldn’t pick her up, he was too drunk to drive. All of her neighborhood posse that was going to get me and all of her “friends” on the police force, left her there. In the only pokey that she has experienced in a while. Finally, Nickelback’s wife and an older man, come to bail her out on two counts of telephone harassment.

Since that night not one word has been muttered, not one doorbell rang, not one phone call made or one keystroke posted. All is quiet, until, maybe, Part Two.

मी office मधे बसून माशा मारतेय.
काम जास्त नाहिये. cyclone warning मुळे कही लोकं घरी गेली आहेत. जावं की न जावं हा मला पडलेला पेच आहे. कारण warning आल्यापासून बाहेर बघतेय, पावूस तर सोडाच, पण झाडाच पान सुद्धा हलत नाहिये. हे असं नेहमी का होतं हे कळत नाही. एखाद्या दहशतवादी संघटनेने हल्ला आयत्या वेळी cancel करणे; होम मिनिस्टर ची डरकाळी एइकुन, हे समजू शकते.

पण हवामान म्हणजे काही अल-कायदा नाही. हल्ली हल्ली या गोष्टी मला जीवनाच्या अति महान तत्वद्यानाकडे घेउन चालल्या आहेत. म्हणजे अणु-रेणू ला पण आत्मा असतो वगैरे. प्रत्येक वेळी मेट जे जाहिर करत ते याला कळत असणार. आणि ह्याचे बेत हा आयत्या वेळी बदलत असणार. (हा म्हणजे हवामान)

खर तर आपलं मेट डिपार्टमेन्ट हल्ला थोपवू शकतच नाही. फार तर फार , आणि अगदी कहर म्हणजे यंत्रणा थोडी कामाला लागते नेहमीपेक्षा जास्त. एव्हढच. म्हणजे कधीतरी प्रोजेक्ट fire वर असल्यावर सगळे मनातून उसना आव आणून वीकएंड ला काम करतात तस!(यालाच मग sincere, hard-working, pro-active वगैरे म्हणुन appraisal मधे गौरवण्यात येत) आणि हे त्यालाही माहितेय. तरी मग हल्ला cancel का करत असेल तो?
कारण मग ह्याच क्रेडिट कमी होतं न. अचानक ‘भोँक’ करून भाम्भेरी उडवण्याचा आनंद official लपाछुपी च्या खेळात नसतो! ‘मला माहित होतं तू असाच करणार ते…’ असं आपण बोललो की त्याचा ego भयंकर दुखावला जात असणार. शेवटी आपण सुद्धा त्याच्यावर इतके बेसावध वार केलेत आतापर्यंत, की त्याचा अधिकार सिद्ध करून दाखवण्याशिवाय त्याच्या कड़े तरी काय पर्याय आहे म्हणा.
anyways , पण एव्हढ मात्र खरं,
MET department always comes into picture when the situation is already met . एकदा कानफाट्या नाव पडल की हे असं असतं.