PRIORITIES

Welcome back,

I apologize for the late post, but apparently SOME people (my bosses, the court, random child abusers) don't quite understand how integral I am to the days of so many. Sadly, they aren't done with me yet so we're going to have to do this quick and dirty (hee hee quick and dirty).

So there was this attorney in court today who came in wearing a crewneck sweater and khakis, no shirt, no tie. He sat down at the table, pulled out a newspaper and proceeded to read from the NY Post while the judge was talking. I bring this up not to highlight the inappropriate behavior of this obviously intellectually starved individual, but rather because this man was getting paid! Someone actually went to this guys office, spoke to him, looked at him and decided he was worth money! I know I complain about work, but God almighty do I love a profession where a dude like that can get paid. To contrast, there was a dude playing guitar and harmonica (at once!) in a square not too far from my office. He played pretty well and had a funny sign that read "Obama's not the only one hoping for change." I mean the effort this guy put into busking (Knowledge drop: Yes, that's right, there's an actual WORD for people who play music in public spaces for change, and now you know it, see how educational this is!) had to at least be 73 times the work roundneck sweater guy put into his appearance today. You know, now that I think about it I probably should have given that harmonica guy some money...

EDITED FOR CONTENT

We're going to continue yesterday's calendar meme a bit today with a question.  Does anyone know what month it is?  No, October will not be an acceptable answer.  No, it's not Black History month, nice try though.  It's Hispanic Heritage Month!  Now, unlike some of you I happen to have an Hispanic friend so I'm what you'd call, in touch with the whole Hispanic culture thing, but I'll admit, even I was a bit surprised to find out there was a month.  Still, I figured it was a recent development, a product of the new millennium or perhaps even an Obama addition, so I didn't feel that badly.  Then I did some research.  Yes folks, be prepared to feel insensitive.  Hispanic Heritage Month was instituted in 1988! 1988! That's insane!  Hispanic Heritage Month is older than the 'Yo Quiero Taco Bell' dog! (I apologize for the profusion of exclamation point but the new blogger format has taken away my ability to bold and italicize which leaves me with nothing but exclamation points and caps, BAH!)
Fortunately, further research obviated my guilt, short lived as it was.  You see, Hispanic Heritage month isn't really a month.  Sure it's 30 consecutive days, but it isn't the 30 days of October (October has thirty days right? Is it a knuckle or a valley? 30 days have September... For God's sake all the months in that stupid song end in 'ber' how am I supposed to keep track!?). Hispanic Heritage month is 30 days from September 15 - October 15!  That's just stupid.  I can barely keep track of which months have 31 days and you want me to remember a month that starts in the middle of nowhere!? (I really miss bold and italicize :() Sure Black people got stuck with February, a month with 28 days and an extra 'R' that no one remembers to pronounce (feb-ROO-airy not feb-U-airy), but at least it's a real month, it's got its own page on the calendar!  How can I respect a month if it doesn't have a picture of a cute bunny over the top of it?  Hispanic Heritage month is almost over, but I'm sorry I don't feel guilty for missing it.  It missed me!  It ignored my obvious limitations and made demands of me that it knew I couldn't live up to.  So yes, our time was short, but it is you HHM that will be taking the walk of shame, not I!
Oh, you've also probably noticed some changes to the blog format, let me know if you like the new, less emo, version of my misanthropy. Also you can now do all the new hip kid stuff like search and subscribe.  It's pretty awesome.

HAPPY SYPHILIS DAY!

Sorry for the late start today Readers, but some of us are on what I like to call VAAAAY CAAAAY SHUUUUUN!!! Yes that's right, thanks to that fearless explorer Christopher Columbus, I slept in, had nice relaxing breakfast while perusing the internet, then hung out by the subway station pointing and laughing at all the people heading into work. Yes, I know, you didn't realize today was Columbus Day. Heck (it's too early in the day for Hell), you didn't even realize that Columbus Day was worthy of a day off of work. Now, while I could blame you and your obviously poor calendar reading skills, I'm instead going to give you the benefit of the doubt (if you're reading this you're obviously smarter than those ardipithecus ramidus out there on TMZ right now... it's OK just close it, I won't tell.) and blame whoever out there made Columbus Day a 'Day' in the first place. Which brings us to my point, exactly how low are our award standards?

Before I get too into facts and whatnot -Knowledge drop - whatnot means, nothing. If you're ever having a conversation with a friend, parent, co-worker, employee, significant other, employer, waiter, mechanic or sex worker and they add 'whatnot' to a list of things that they've done, they haven't done anything.

Exempli gratia:
Random person who, since I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt today, we'll assume isn't a sex worker: So that'll be $300
You: $300? For what?
RPWSIGYTBOTDTWAIASW: Well I did a lot
You: Like what?
RPWSIGYTBOTDTWAIASW: Well, I went to the store for you and I had to pick up the necessities and whatnot.
YOU (Before reading this post): OK.
YOU (after reading this post): You filthy good for nothing lying sack of vomit, how dare you lie to me!? You think I'm stupid or something!? I'm on to you mom!

Anyway, I may have gotten distracted there, where was I? Ah yes Facts and whatnot. Now most of these facts are coming from Wikipedia, which means that the greatest minds in the world have had a chance to input their amazing stores of historical knowledge into the internet so everything on it is at least 100% accurate, maybe more. So, onto Columbus. Here's what I've been able to glean from 8 minutes of exhaustive research and that song that begins 'In 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue'

-Columbus discovered the Bahamas and thought he landed in Asia, India in particular.
-Upon finding these 'Indians' he remarked that they seemed like they'd make good servants.
- Columbus had sex with lots of them and brought syphilis to Europe.
- For all his good work Columbus was made governor at which point: The native Taino people of the island were systematically enslaved and murdered. Hundreds were rounded up and shipped to Europe to be sold; many died en route. For the rest of the population, Columbus demanded that all Taino under his control should bring the Spaniards gold. Those who didn't were to have their hands cut off. Since there was, in fact, little gold to be had, the Taino fled, and the Spaniards hunted them down and killed them. The Taino tried to mount a resistance, but the Spanish weaponry was superior, and European diseases ravaged their population. In despair, the Taino engaged in mass suicide, even killing their own children to save them from the Spaniards. Within two years, half of what may have been 250,000 Taino were dead. The remainder were taken as slaves and set to work on plantations, where the mortality rate was very high. By 1550, 60 years after Columbus landed, only a few hundred Taino were left on their island. In another hundred years, perhaps only a handful remained.
- He hanged some of his crew for disobeying him
- Was arrested by the King of Spain for mismanagement and stripped of his governorship.

AMERICAN HERO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Look I'm all for low standards. I wish more women and my bosses had them, but I have to say Columbus day kind of irks me. If all it takes to get a day is get lost; call South America, Asia; Enslave, torture, slaughter and drive a native people to mass suicide; hang your employees; get fired by your boss and sent to jail, then should at least have one day by now, maybe two. Not to mention a Nobel Peace Prize. I kid because I love, Barack.

OK that was tiring, I think I'll go nap now.

COMMENT OR DIE

Before I begin I'd like to make a confession... I'm a PC. I know, I know, I'm ashamed to be honest. I don't own a smart phone, my iPod has like 47 songs on it, I'm still somewhat threatened by the roomba (they're practically sentient!) and I have T-Mobile phone service. Brief aside: Who here, aside from the good people at Verizon, thinks that a good way to promote cell phone service is to give people the impression that evey move they make is being followed by a mob of strangers in hardhats and oddly annoying glasses? Still, I like to think of myself as an Apple/Mac kind of guy. I like the commercials, I think old people are boring and I'm all for making technology user friendly, though I'm still not sure about the whole trusting robots thing, once they gain power they'll turn on us for control of the oil, they've seen The Wizard of Oz, they know what happens to the Tin Man. The point is, I feel as if I'm a part of the Mac revolution, which makes what happened yesterday all the more disturbing.

I was watching TV last night and a commercial for what I thought was the iPhone came on. It had a close up of a pretty phone with a touch screen, music playing and celebrities holding the phone, all the usual iPhone stuff and I have to say was kinda feeling it. I may have even been bopping my head (Now because I think we've been a bit schlong heavy here the last few posts and we're better than that, I'm going to eschew making jokes about head bopping... for today). After a few seconds though -I only give commercials about 18% of my attention - I realized something was wrong; the celebrities weren't young and hip, they were Chevy Chase, that girl who used to smell her armpits on SNL and Dana Carvey (DANA CARVEY!?). The music was also a bit off because it wasn't some new indie singer I've never heard of who's popular in the West Village, it was Bob Dylan (Bob Dylan is old and just released a Christmas album, cool indie singers do not release Christmas albums). Long story short it was a commercial for T-Mobile's new phone the 'My Touch' (No! no schlong jokes today people. We have standards!). The point is I found this commercial and my reaction to it, quite depressing. There are essentially two options here; one, I have no mind of my own and will, Pavlov style, find anything cool if it follows the template of an iPhone commercial; or two, and this one is scarier, Apple doesn't want me. They think people like me pretending to be Apple people are ruining their image and want to pawn me off on T-mobile! Well, I'm not falling for the Apple! I'm going to get an iPhone! (as soon as the price comes down and they switch the service from AT&T, and you know, the price comes down.) So there!

Oh and in case you still trust the roomba, read this: Roomba-Maker Unveils Kill-Bot!
http://www.wired.com/dangerroom/2007/10/roomba-maker-un/

EVERYONE HAS A PLAN TILL THEY GET A DODGEBALL IN THE FACE!

As some of you may have deduced (deducted for those who conversate) I am, by nature, rather competitive. To clarify, I don't mean competitive in the 'I need to prove I'm better than you' sense, thankfully that is blatantly obvious. What I do mean, however, is that I like to win. I really, really, really like to win. I like to win the way midgets like amusement parks without those 'you must be this tall to ride' signs, or the way this girl in my office likes to think orange is the color of a natural suntan. So I have to say, I'm puzzled by my not caring that my current dodgeball team is out to a scorching 1-11 start. For those of you out there who can't read won-loss records that would be one win and eleven losses. To put that into perspective, there are 10 teams in our league, after last nights 0-4 we are currently in approximately 293rd place.

Now to be fair, none of this is particularly surprising. Most of my team members have never played organized dodgeball before and, contrary to popular belief, dodgeball is actually among the most complex sports known to man. Success at dodgeball requires the skill of a hunter, the courage of a foot soldier, the quickness of a premature ejaculator and high grade anabolic steroids. In fact, Sun Tzu's 'The Art of War' was originally titled, 'I Can't Believe How Difficult Dodgeball is Maybe I SHould Just Focus on This War Junk, It Seems Easy' (apparently the same people who write out the directions on your chop sticks packet did the capitalization on the title), while Machievelli's 'The Prince' was actually originally titled 'Having A Cool Sounding Last Name Will Increase Book Sales By 64%' (not everything is about dodgeball you know). Anyway, my point is we suck like a gay vaccum cleaner; we are the kind of terrible that inspired the Special Olympics and maybe even the pejorative connotation of the word 'special'. We lack hunters, soldiers, premature ejaculators (don't ask me how I know), the steroids I bought for us taste suspiciously like Fruit Snacks and I'm still not quite sure how the scoring system works. What I'm trying to say is, I don't foresee us winning too many more games, but it's dodgeball, so I guess it doesn't count.

WE'RE JUST TOO DAMN GOOD TOGETHER!

It seems we can't quite stay broken up, you and I. I'll admit there were times I thought this would never happen again; that my days of venting my bile upon you while demonstrating proper semicolon use were over forever. Yet, my Richard Burton (Google it), here we are again. It would seem some things (me, my blog, Sean Connery, that scene from 'Wild Things' where Denise Richards and Neve Campbell make out, Polish jokes, child labor, unequal pay in the workplace in particular and misogyny in general, Drake's cakes, Thundercats, that youtube video of the baby water buffalo escaping from both an alligator AND a lion SIMULTANEOUSLY, spelling 'dialog', 'dialogue' [it's just better that way] and the word 'Codswallop') are just too good to let fade into oblivion. So get out your prophylactic of choice 'cuz were about to get it on!

TOP FIVE THINGS THAT HAVE BOTHERED ME SINCE LAST WE MET

#5 - People who walk at your identical pace - If I'm walking along the street and you, stranger whom I have no reason to think isn't a serial killer, decide to step out of your car or local Kaballah center and step onto my street, walking at my pace, your shoulder to my shoulder shoulder, well then don't complain if you accidentally trip. Little known fact: Hookers, aka 'street walkers' were originally a kind of hall monitor for the streets, making sure no two strangers were forced to walk abreast of each other in uncomfortable silence, but, as man evolved and social contracts formed, these noble protectors of our sidewalks found themselves without work or purpose and, in their unflagging, if misplaced, desire to continue guiding us along life's major thoroughfares, they became the sherpas of the backseat, back alley and backd-- well, you know.

#4 - People who push the button for the elevator after it's already been pressed - What's your thought process here? I just want to understand where you're coming from is all. You see me standing at the elevator bank, briefcase in hand, repeatedly checking my watch and you think I'm just hanging out? Or do you realize that I'm waiting for the elevator, but think I'm too stupid to figure out how to push the button to get an elevator to come. Hmm? Which is it douchebag!? You think I'm an idiot? I should rip your arm off at the elbow and beat your skull in with your own ulna for insulting me like that; just consider yourself lucky that we're on the ground floor or I'd pry open the elevator door and throw you down the shaft. On a related note I may have been skipping my anger management classes.

#3 - People who microwave fish and cheese at work - I don't know why old people can't seem to smell the noxious odors their lunches emit, maybe their loss of the sense is some evolutionary defense mechanism you know, because old people are closer to death and thus partially decomposed and dead bodies stink. More problematic you can't remind them how bad it used to smell back in the days when they were young and old people would microwave fish and cheese cuz they didn't have microwaves back then. On the bright side, they have fragile hip bones...

#2 - Starting a list at #5 before realizing you don't have five things to talk about - Not that that would apply to me or anything. I'm just saying, in theory, that would be really annoying and kind of embarrassing. It'd be like asking that doctor for Levitra all over again, I mean, in theory. Wait, it's for my friend! No?

#1 - Not really having an steady opinion on healthcare reform - Look, I mean I'm torn. Sure it'd be nice for everyone to be able to see a doctor, and yes it'd be comforting to know that should my bosses ever find out that I haven't done any actual work since Thursday... January 29, 2009 (you checked it didn't you, feel stupid now dontcha?) and somehow think that were a fireable offense I would still be able to see a doctor who could renew my prescription for Lev-- umm allergy medication, but then again, sometimes we're better off putting great grampa on an ice floe and pushing him out to sea, you know? I mean do you think great gamps is gonna let you get away with that if he knows theres a bed waiting for him in a hospital? Heck no, especially not if you plan of driving all the way to Canada, he'll escape long before then... trust me. You should totally fly next time...

Testing... Testing

THE TEN COMMANDMENTS OF MEN’S PUBLIC RESTROOMS
#10 – Never take the middle urinal. This applies to bathrooms with the standard three stall setup. In such cases one must tae either the first or third urinal, leaving a one urinal barrier in case of company.

#9 – If at all possible, do not use the first urinal. Generally, they are adjacent to the sink and lack the dividing partition on the right testicle side. The price of good hygiene should not be having to watch you pee.

#8 – Don’t pee into the water. A proper urinal, or even a public toilet will have a porcelain wall for you to pee against silently. Eschewing the use of this wall and peeing loudly into the shallow puddle of water at the bottom of the bowl is offensive and wrong. I don’t care how proud you are of your prostate health.

#7 – Do not start conversations with your urinal-mates. Just because you’re comfortable talking to others with your junk in your hand doesn’t mean everyone else is (though it probably means you at least have a shot at being successful in porn). Additionally, the odds of a misunderstanding or faux pas is greatly increased in said setting with people’s respective junk in their respective hands. That being said, if, however, you came into the bathroom with a friend and were already conversing, it is permissible to continue this conversation. One must nevertheless case and desist if said friend does not reply once the junk comes out.

#6 – Lift the seat. It’s an oldie but a goodie. Nothing contributes to that public men’s room aroma like urine aging on plastic.

#5 – The movie theater exception. If, post movie, you find yourself in a crowded bathroom and, for expediency’s sake, make use of a stall rather than a urinal, one can abstain from lifting the seat. The reasons for this are two fold 1) Those seats have more bacteria on them than an Iranian lab full of cultures, and 2) Only a moron would sit on one of those seats and its ok to pee on morons.

#4 – Flush. No it’s not cool to be environmentally conscious in a men’s room. When you are in a men’s room, it is the only environment on earth. Stepping through that door is like entering a breach in the time space continuum (Note: If you think this analogy is sci-fientifically inaccurate, well, enjoy your virginity). So please, make use of the mercy, pre-pee and safety flushes.

#3 – Do not primp. The mirror in a public bathroom is vestigial. It is nearly useless remnant from some long ago day when the room didn’t smell like your grandmother’s diaper. Get in, empty the tank, get out. If you must, one quick look and then end it. Whatever you think you’re gaining in hair adjustment will be more than canceled out by the aroma of stale urine following you.

#2 – Tie your shoelaces. Before going into a men’s room, make sure nothing but the soles of your shoes touches the bathroom floor. If you don’t, well, be prepared leave them untied in perpetuity.

#1 – If ever possible, use the women’s room.