BLOW ME!

It's been a while friends. I'd apologize, but I'm not actually sorry, and I don't want to lie to you (unless it's for personal gain or amusement). Lots has happened though, so I'll try to sum it all up in the next couple of days. Time is short though so let's get down to business.

Top Five Things That Bother Me Today

#5 - Feeling Guilty About My Recurrent Lateness - I know what you're thinking (I generally do, you're predictable like that), I should feel guilty about being late all the time; its my fault, I'm wasting other people's valuable time, all that responsibility hokum. Fair point counselor (I know you're not a lawyer, did I mention I am? No? I am.). A lesser man, and by lesser man I mean someone willing to admit the existence of personal faults, might even think them winning arguments. That being said, as has been pointed out by Royalty, heads of state and my mom, I am not a lesser man. You see, the way I think about it, my inability to be on time is a sort of handicap, like a stutter or a limp or relying on puns. And we, and by we I mean people other than me, hold the handicapped to a lower standard; not blaming them for spitting all over you while they attempt to enunciate, or for jabbing your toe with their cane, or for ending every third sentence with "no pun intended." All I'm saying is, try to understand... nothing's my fault. Is that asking so much?

#4 - Hand Blowers in Public Restrooms - A recent survey found that as many as 37% of people don't wash their hands after using a public restroom. 37%!! Now while I just made up that statistic, you have to admit it's disturbing nonetheless. So my question is, why are we punishing the 63% of the population actually concerned with heptitis, by making them stand in a public restroom inhaling that pungent aroma of eau de urine? I get that the environment is important and that paper towels come from trees and there are reindeer in the Arctic, I just don't think I'm willing to inhale urine to protect them. Plus, I think the whole, 'let's use one-ply toilet paper in the stalls' idea, more than makes up for paper towel abuse.

#3 - Dramatizations - Have you ever been watching TV while someone being interview described an event from their life? Yes? Good. Have you ever then seen that incident re-enacted? With the littel words 're-enactment' or 'dramatization' in the bottom corner? Even better. Have you ever then asked yourself this? "How dumb do they think I am?" They really need to show me an actor picking a lock so I can understand what the guy on TV meant when he said, "I picked the lock."? Look I'm more than willing to admit that lots of people who aren't me are dumb, most in fact, but that doesn't mean we need to have illustrated conversations. What's next, caricature artists accompanying you on dates?

#2 - Sell By Date - I get the 'born on' date, I get the 'best if used by date', I do. I do NOT, however, in any shape way or form, comprehend the 'sell-by' date. Why are they even giving me this information? Is it a handy sugesstion for those in the retail milk resale business? Do they think I'm going to stand out on a corner screaming "MILK! Get your milk here."? Is there some secret algorithm that I'm unaware of by which you can derive the expiration date from the 'sell by' date? I feel like I need a dramatization to help me understand this thing.

#1 - Ryan Seacrest - I know I've covered this before but the man is EVERYWHERE! I passed some homeless men singing in the subway station last night and there he was giving me useless information about hobo#1 and his affinity for Colt .45 malt beer. I feel like instead of investigating the scab on Roger Clemen's butt Congress should get to work on legislation that limits the amount of time his lordship, 'Sir I Had Brown Hair in Season One' spends on camera each week.

I'm spent, more tomorrow.

PLEASE, NO MORE AUTOGRAPHS

I'd like to begin by taking a moment to congratulate myself on being a fan of the New York Giants. It was a long, hard season, but I fought my way through the adversity. I overcame half a season of football in standard definition, long commercial breaks and even remote control malfunctions that caused me to change the channel MANUALLY! I don't know how I did it, nor, to be honest did I think I could, but I did, and now the Giants are champions.

I will admit this victory did not come easy. Even during this very last game I had to overcome a sore throat, acid reflux and the cruel temptation of winning $200 should the Giants not score on their final possession. Yet, just as Abraham in his quest to follow God's command to sacrifice his son, I too triumphed over these tests of faith, will and determination. I sit before you (metaphorically speaking) fully and wholly satisfied by the result. I didn't do it for glory, for immortality or because my son was thirty six years old and still living at home. I didn't do it to for the money (though if there are those out there who feel compelled to compensate me for last night's performance, I will be accepting gratuities), or for the repeated shots of cheerleaders (though seriously, whoever invented cheerleaders, dude, I owe you one), to be honest I can't even tell you why I did it. All I know is this, I cannot be bothered by anything today.

Update: Things, apparently, still bother me.

Sadly, if entirely unsurprisingly, the news was not good throughout the world. In Israel today, a suicide bomber killed two people and injured eleven more. According to the NY Times there were two bombers, but, in a display that epitomizes how it is a billion Arabs have failed to destroy Israel, the second bomber was standing too close to the explosion and was injured. An alert Israeli police officer saw the injured murderer reaching for his bomb and in a display of quick thinking and skill that boggles my mind somehow managed to kill him before the menace could blow himself up. That's how I would put it at least. Officer Moor, however, is a much better writer than I and so I give you his own words.

“His hand was twitching. He raised it again. So I shot four bullets into his head and neutralized him.”

Isn't there just something savagely beautiful about the understatement?

In a less serious vein I am also bothered by Ryan Seacrest. How a man who uses more feminine products than a menstral call girl can be chosen to host the Super Bowl the SUPER BOWL; the most manly event in the universe after the World's Strongest Man Competition (I mean those guys hurl beer kegs 20 feet in the air and pull trucks with their earlobes, so really I don't think it'd be a good idea to tell them they're not manly), is beyond my comprehension. I mean that decison was so dumb I couldn't find any redeeming value it with an electron microscope attached to the Hubble telescope.

In fact, I kind of wish I could get he and Officer Moor in a room together. What? I'm just saying, accidents happen. Besides, what's a little neutralization between police officer and ubiquitious, unctuous, untalented talent show host? At the very least I hope this generation's Star Search host will be redcued to handing out those jumbo sized Pulisher's Clearinghouse checks for a living in the near future.