The Year in Tunes

No year is complete without some sort of "top [insert number here]" list. I figure I should follow the rules so I give you my top 10 albums of 2006 (in no particular order):

Peeping Tom - Peeping Tom
Trivium - The Crusade
Basement Jaxx - Crazy Itch Radio
Rise Against - The Sufferer & The Witness
Gym Class Heroes - As Cruel As School Children
Slayer - Christ Illusion
Swollen Members - Black Magic
MC Chris - Dungeon Master of Ceremonies
Robert Randolph & The Family Band - Colorblind
Europe - Secret Society

Check 'em out.

As Long As You Are In The Spending Mood

I was just reading an article in The Village Voice about the folks at Google opening a new office in NYC. The whole thing is pretty interesting (you can check it out here), but the part that really got me was this:

"Based on conservative real estate industry estimates of the building's asking price -- about $33 per square foot -- Google will likely pay at least $10 million per year in rent ... "

$10 million per year ... Yikes!

Um, Google? I'm not sure if you are aware of this or not, but I am going to be out of a job as of March 30. So if you are going to be throwing that kind of money around perhaps you could get me involved? I live close, I'd cost you way less than $10 million a year and I am a dedicated worker. I look forward to hearing from you (my e-mail is near the top of the column to the right). Thanks.

Toll Fun

I really enjoy this little comedic prank: http://www.zug.com/pranks/turnpike/

IOUs, a photo of a guy flipping off the prankster, 50 Cent stickers, citrus, foreign currency and Mariah Carey ... apparently, that's a great recipe for making me laugh.

Family Time

So, I was upstate this past weekend for some Christmasy family time. It was the usual routine ... a lot of blah, blah, blah by my mother, too much unhealthy food in my gut and talkin' sports and my career unknowns with my dad. Some memorable moments:

• I got up to my parent's house Friday night. I have to wake up sort of early (at least by my weekend standards) on Saturday to pick my wife up at the train station. I didn't bother setting an alarm, but conveniently my father wakes me up. In the years since I've been away from home his ability to hand out a heart attack has not wavered. My wake up was like this, "Bill! Do you know what time it is?!" I'm in a deep sleep, no idea where I am or what day it is and I can guarantee I don't know what time it is but it certainly sounds like I am late for something (I wasn't).

• My Uncle discussing before dinner his dislike for his cousin's son (I guess he doesn't really work or attempt to work): "So I tell him, 'Look, your son is a loser.'"

• My Aunt, a former fan of Rachael Ray, who unbeknownst to me has done a 180 since we last spoke: "She's on all the time. All the time. And she's gotten more and more annoying. That fake laugh, the way she hams it up for the camera and God, has she gotten FAT!"

• Driving back from the mall I pull onto the highway and immediately have some chubby, frog-like woman in a minivan box us into an "exit only" lane. After I mumble some insults and threats I manage to get around her only to notice my father who is riding in the backseat giving her the finger. It's not just the finger either, it's a violent gesture like he might be trying to jam it up her ass. All about the holiday spirit in my family.

• On the train ride back to New York City I saw a murder. A murder of crows that is. Just south of Poughkeepsie. Shitloads of crows. If not for my protective metal and glass cocoon, it would have been a little unnerving.

Just The Way Baby Jesus Likes It

Enjoy your Christmas everyone ...


... even if you don't really celebrate it.

Somethin' Ain't Right

Dear Amtrak,

I have an issue with you. Many issues actually, but I'll just focus on two for now. Think something looks screwy when you compare these two trips? One is my trip to Chicago a couple weeks ago and one is my upcoming trip to Albany, NY. Take a look. See anything odd?:

American Airlines
New York --> Chicago, IL --> New York, NY
Round-trip stats: 4 hours, 45 minutes - 1,440 miles
$139.60

Amtrak
New York, NY --> Albany, NY --> New York, NY
Round-trip stats: 4 hours, 55 minutes - 284 miles
$121.00

Screwy issue #1: A flight, which involves jet fuel, free snacks/drinks and little air nozzles for personal climate control only costs $18.60 more than rumbling up the banks of the Hudson? Jesus. AND you're subsidized by the government. Why so expensive?

Screwy issue #2: The train up to Albany takes 10 minutes longer (in the event that the train is actually on time) than a flight to Chicago? I know planes go faster than trains, but the train is not being used to its full potential. Fix the tracks, upgrade your engines/cars and let's move!

Despite my irritation, you'll see me later today. Don't make it any worse than it already is.

Sincerely,
WJR

Moms ... Always Jumping To Conclusions

So Mothers Against Drunk Driving decided to cut ties with Miss Teen USA Katie Blair thanks to allegations of hard partying (whatever that means). Isn't MADD getting a bit out of control cutting ties with Miss Teen USA? They aren't Mothers Against Underage Drinking, they're Mothers Against Drunk Driving! I see that there are statistics on MADD's web site about underage drinking being a big cause of accidents/deaths, but isn't an underage Miss Teen USA setting a good example if she drinks (as many, many teens do) but does not drive?

Perhaps the decision makers at MADD just don't remember what it was like to be young (and/or hot).

Stocking (and shirt) Stuffer

One of my favorite press release headlines of 2006:

Dr. Stephen T. Greenberg Says It's Going to Be a Cosmetic Christmas As Many Patients Are Saying 'All I Want for Christmas Are My Two ... New Breasts!!'

Dear Santa,

I've been really Effin' good this year therefore I'd like the following:

• A pony
• T.M.X. Elmo
• new breasts
• Xbox 360

Thanks. I'll leave some cookies out for you.

Stay Warm,
WJR

Put Your Junk In The Box

Just a few short shopping days until you need to get something under that tree. How about a gift that keeps on giving? Watch and listen carefully to this video and you'll see that in just three easy steps you've got yourself a present worthy of masterpiece status: click here

Perhaps you've seen this already. Perhaps even numerous times. I don't care. It makes me laugh and I don't see any reason to not have it at my fingertips at all times.

FYI - please do not try to give me your dick in a box. Thanks.

You Can't Stop It

Venezuelan Leader Says Castro Not Dying

Um, not to be Mr. Negative or anything Chavez, but I'll let you in on a little secret. We're all dying. We're all sloooowly dying. Me. You. Even Castro. Just a little something to think about.

P.S. Castro is closer to death than most of us.

Two In A Row Is Enough

The other night I caught Gwen Stefani on Letterman doing Wind It Up and then last night I was in a bar and her video for the same song came on.

Is it bad? No.

Is it catchy (yet slightly annoying) and is she easy on the eyes? Sure. But ...

But?

Yeah. But. There's always that. My but is that I'd like some No Doubt back. Am I a huge fan that can't live without them? Not even. I just prefer Gwen rockin' that, rather than doing this other stuff. Two solo albums in a row ... sure it's a nice creative outlet and it's a chance for her to be all independent and dress how she wants and synchronize a bunch of Japanese girls in wigs, but what about my ears? I'd like some No Doubt. That's all.

It's just a request.

Chicago Recap

In case you were wondering, I survived my venture to Chicago. My second time there and my second time enjoying it. I wouldn't mind living there one bit. There wasn't any groundbreaking events to report, but here's a brief rundown of the happenings:

Arrived Thursday. It was fucking cold. Low double digits, with wind that was making it pretty much miserable. I decided to not be a pussy and get out there anyway.

I headed to the Shedd Aquarium. I briefly thought art museum, but then realized my attention span is about the same as a housefly, so I figured fish and lizards might be a better bet than art. I had a cool photo of a California moray, but I think I may have sent that from my phone to a stranger in a bar at some point in a Bluetooth experiment. I do have this one of some jellyfish though:
While snapping this photo I heard a little kid ask a question, "Why are they called jellyfish? You can't eat them, can you?" If only there was an open top. I would have slapped one of those things on toast and handed it over to him for a delicious afternoon snack.

I also got a shot of the dolphin tank that overlooks mighty Lake Michigan (I'm guessing just to tease those bottle-nosed perverts with a view of freedom):

Thursday night was out to The Dark Horse for some eats and Steelers watching. The Steelers fans and bar workers (also Steelers fans) were pretty nuts. If someone had knocked me out and I woke up in The Dark Horse I would have no problem believing that I was in Pittsburgh. There was a lot of yelling, chanting, dancing and drinking in the name of the Steelers. Despite my being a Steelers fan, I pretty much spent my time focused on my burger, wings and $3 Guinness pints.

Friday morning I woke up to a pleasant offer from Todd, my host's roommate. Pancakes. There was also bacon. Todd, myself and Todd's lady friend discussed how much bacon should be made, and we opted for the entire one pound package. Although there was some talk of saving the leftovers for BLTs or whatever, we ate the whole pound. The three of us are now forever bonded in salty pork. Bacon bonds can never be broken. That's a fact.

Post breakfast, after some digestion time (which included running) I hit the town. First stop was Mr. Beef. You can tell it is going to be good just by looking at the outside:

Beef, peppers, celery and beef juices ... simple, old school and delicious:

Despite the obvious potential for shitting my pants after all that healthy eatin' I ventured on to my next stop, The John Hancock building observatory. I did a lot of looking out windows and cursing annoying French tourists under my breath. Here's me keepin' it real 1,000 feet above the Chicago streets:

From there, it was out for some happy hour at various places around Wrigleyville with former co-worker ACG until it was time to meet up with my host and comedy writer, Matt at his latest show at Second City (there are three more chances to catch it Two Thousand and Sux, so get on it). Post show was a stop at the Old Town Ale House. $8 pitchers of Old Style and a jazz only jukebox. 'Nuff said.

Saturday was a bit lazy in the morning, but some brunch from Kitsch'n got the ball rollin'. There was a little shopping, a little TV watchin' and a jog, but once the sun went down, it was time for a chili cook-off that one of the guys from the Two Thousand and Sux show was hosting. Nine chili entries for the tasting and voting and lots of ridiculous discussions such as: aquarium mammals and their genitals, vegetarian chili being "total bullshit," U.S./Canada relations, wearing beer stained clothing, fag hags, chili voting fraud, Rice Crispy treats - greatest dessert ever? and much more.

After the chili voting was done and awards were handed out (I am protesting the results) and further socializing was accomplished, we were off to continue the night. Stops at the fancy Hop Leaf, the less fancy Simon's Tavern for some Glogg and the not fancy at all, Carol's Pub. That was more than enough.

Sunday was breakfast and then some football (American and otherwise) watching until it was time to get back to the airport.

A little tired and slightly lacking in health, but overall I think it is mission accomplished.

Seize Your Opportunities

Dear Oscar,

Next time you have an opportunity like this, please slam the lid down and ship that can off to a garbage barge heading for deep ocean waters.

Thanks in advance.

Sincerely,
WJR

Sell Out for J.C. in J.C.

Seen Yesterday in Jersey City:

Chilly Willy

November was so full of freakishly warm days that I seriously started thinking of where I could buy property now that would eventually turn into oceanfront property once the polar ice caps melt. Before I had all that figured out, yesterday came along and WHAM! it's cold. No easing into this winter I guess.

A certain negative on the winter weather is being outside, getting cold and then needing a visit to the bathroom. Come inside, head for the bathroom ... warm genitals do not like cold hands.

At all.

Adding To The Unnecessary

I'm a little confused as to why anyone gives a shit about this whole Gwyneth Paltrow thing.

Maybe she was misquoted. Maybe not. Either way, I really don't care what Gwyneth Paltrow thinks or what Gwyneth Paltrow says or what Gwyneth Paltrow does. I'm not sure why anyone does. She named her kid Apple for Christ's sake. You think she gives a shit about what anyone thinks?

I'm not a big fan of people saying nasty things about where they are from since if you don't like where you are you can go somewhere else, but does this need to be a major news story?

A more important question I guess would be why am I even addressing this? I really have no idea.

Now I'm Ready For Month Twelve

Whenever I am out of the apartment or lying in bed or showering or whatever else it is I do, I always think of shit to blog about, but then I either (a) say "fuck it, it will never be written well enough to be as intriguing a story as it was when it was in my head" or (b) forget what the hell I had been thinking of or (c) just feel too lazy.

They always say "finish strong" and it's now the last day of November so I feel like I need to add something on this piece of shit. So, here we go ...

I've actually had a decent week of shit to talk about, but see (c) above for the lack of writing about that. In short, here is the recap:

(1) I went out on Tuesday to see Toole off to Cleveland* properly. By properly, I mean $1 mugs of Bud Light, mocking "We Didn't Start The Fire" (the "cola wars" part was really the catalyst), screaming a lot, shooting virtual deer and cursing the PATH. There wasn't a lot of sleep that night and I probably would have been better off going to the psych ward rather than work the following day.

*I really hope Toole dances and runs around like a fucking psychotic Drew Carey when he gets out of work. He never did in NY/NJ, but I think Cleveland may change him.

(2) Wednesday night I went to see Hamell on Trial. I don't know how many fucking times I have to say it, but I guess I'll do it again: Go see Hamell. You won't be sorry.

(3) Today I had off from work. I wound up helping a former co-worker move her crap out of her apartment as she is off to live upstate.

Productive, No?

I also booked myself a trip. Next Thursday, I'm heading for Chicago for a long weekend that will probably be an extended version of (1) above, but instead of Bud Light it will be Old Style and there will be no PATH train or Toole. Last time I was in Chicago, things were a little messy in more ways than one. I can't wait.

There. That was good. You may now enter, December. Welcome.

Have Fun Being Solo, Little France

Dear Canadians,

Go ahead and let those Quebecer fucks cut out and make their own country. Face it, you hate them just as much as I do (at least every Canadian I've ever met has). They bring your whole nation down. They give you normal Canadians a bad name. Let them be free. I promise to visit Canada -- real Canada -- and never set foot in their snooty "country."

So you lose out on some mountains and maybe some beer, but there are plenty of other non-Quebec options around your great land. Plus, if you really need to, we can always do a little search for "weapons of mass destruction" and the place will be all yours once again.

Sincerely,
WJR

PS I'm willing to give up Voivod and Men Without Hats in exchange for keeping Celine Dion and Simple Plan locked in the new nation -- physically and aurally. Deal? Deal.

See You Soon, Turkey

On this special day where we all gather around our annoying family and eat until we feel like we'd be better off dead, I thought it would be nice to post something turkey related.

There's probably no better way then with some lines from "Into The Oven" by everyone's favorite band, Anal Cunt:

"First you lived on a farm.
Then you got your head cut off.
Then I bought you in a grocery store.
Pretty soon you'll be on my plate.
Into the oven.
Into the oven.
I'm gonna eat you for Thanksgiving."

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Cord Says Winter

I have a brief iPod-related rant here. I know Lozo is already losing his shit at the mere thought of such a thing, but just hang tough*, Lozo. It's not going to be that crazy. I'm not a huge iPod freak to begin with. I only have a shuffle, so I'm not hauling around every album I own or feel as though I'd die without my iPod or any such shit. My thought process for iPod use pretty much involves jamming my iPod in a USB port, hitting Autofill button, letting it fill and then walking out the door. I get a random sampling of the retarded crap I stockpile for convenient listening on the PATH or if I feel like increasing my odds of death, while I skateboard home from work.

Anyway, my rant isn't really about the iPod itself, the awesome songs I may or may not have heard, the iPod's role in society or anything like that. I wanted to bring up the way the cord for the headphones gets so stiff and annoying when it gets cold. Today was the first day I really dealt with it this year. The viscosity (if that is even correct terminology with cords or even solids in general) gets all out of wack, and out of wack with the quickness. The cord is all stiff and sticking out all strange and it is impossible to get under control until warmth is restored. It really drives me nuts.

That's really all. I don't really have some sort of awesome conclusion to all this. I just thought I'd mention it.

*I'm sure some of you were hoping for Hangin' Tough rather than Hang Tough. Now everybody is happy.

Somethin' Wrong With a Little Bump and Grind?

Ahh, school dances ... so dramatic. So controversial. It's always something with the kids and their hormones vs. the adults and their judging. Parents (and teachers) just don't understand!

The headline for this news really should be "Rebecca Watson's Popularity On The Upswing At Fayetteville-Manlius."

No Grinding for You! Upstate School Cancels H.S. Dance

MANLIUS, N.Y. -- Administrators in a suburban upstate New York school district have canceled a high school dance over concerns about students "grinding," a sexually suggestive dance style.

"Grinding to its extreme is pornographic," said Fayetteville-Manlius High School Principal James Chupaila. "Kids say this is how they dance at a club or on MTV. But this is a school event, and we have a responsibility to monitor these things. It's just inappropriate for a school setting."

Administrators canceled a Dec. 2 dance because of students "grinding" at the Homecoming Dance in October, which was so persistent that officials ended the dance early, Chupaila said.

The suburban Syracuse district is banning grinding at all future dances, Chupaila said. The next dance, in February, will be combined with an "activity night," with alternatives such as volleyball and badminton offered, he said.

Dirty dancing isn't particularly new, but school officials have been paying more attention as it becomes more explicit and popular with the mainstreaming of rap and hip hop music with suggestive lyrics and videos. Schools in Maine, New Hampshire and Montana this year outlawed the dance style so that dances could go on.

At Fayetteville-Manlius, parents were upset and some students complained about "inappropriate grabbing or touching" on the dance floor, Chupaila said.

Some students objected to the ban.

Sophomore Abby Damanski, 15, said kids won't attend the dances, which raise money for class events, if there are restrictions.

Junior Rebecca Watson said the dance style replaces slow dancing, which is no longer popular.

"Your clothes are on, so I don't see the problem," she said.

---

Speaking of Parents Just Don't Understand, what the fuck is this ?

Straight Shooter

I was checking out the most popular news stories/photos on Yahoo! and oddly this photo caught my eye:
The caption alerts me to the name of Katie Price. I thought, "Katie Price? Is that someone I should know? She is on the most popular list and all." So I look her up on the ol' Google and it turns out, Katie Price is also known as Jordan.

Now we've all seen Jordan naked or close to it about a million times (just in case you haven't, I'm sure you can find a sample here), so big deal, I know. Well, the real point of this post is honesty. Yes, honesty. I love this quote from Katie or Jordan or whatever we call her:

"Some people may be famous for creating a pencil sharpener. I'm famous for my tits."

Now that's a gal who knows her reality.

Fully Aware

Yesterday I was heading out for a run and two guys cross my path. First guy is carrying a case and a half of Milwaukee's Best. Second guy is carrying a case in a half of Schlitz.

I say to guy number one, "That looks like you guys can plan on a hungover day tomorrow."

He responds, "Oh, I think this one will be bad enough that it will be hungover tomorrow and Monday."

Eating Rampage

Yesterday, as the workday and workweek drew to a close, I got that craving I often get -- get home and lie on the couch. Just for a little while or the whole night. Whichever feels right. However, this wasn't an option this day as I had a birthday party to attend at Dinosaur Bar-B-Que.

Stand by colon. Here comes meat ... and lots of it.

Since I didn't really have enough time to go home before the party and I couldn't think of anything to entertain myself with otherwise, I headed up to Harlem about an hour early. I took the train up to 125th Street, found Dinosaur, ordered a beer and sat outside drinking, reading some Harry Potter and watching the douche bags stuck in traffic out on the Henry Hudson (why people drive at rush hour on Friday is beyond me). It was great. Relaxing, entertaining and away from people. If the Mother Nature were to keep things warm for awhile, I would seriously think of doing this every Friday.

Anyway, when the party people arrived, it was time to eat. And eat I did. First the table shared some wings and fried green tomatoes. Off to a good start. Then, for myself I got one of their combo plates. This plate had a lot on it: 1/4 Chicken (leg & thigh), 1/4 Rack of Ribs, Texas Beef Brisket (sliced), 1/4 lb. of peel & eat shrimp, corn bread and two sides (mac & cheese and salt potatoes).

Holy Shit! So good.

I ate all of it. Plate clean! All that meat along with several beers and a shot of Jagermeister ... my stomach was bloated and happy. So good.

If anyone wants to do a field trip, let me know. I am all about a repeat performance.

Out With Questions

On my way home tonight as I walked through the mess that is Union Square I hear some guy say to a woman, "Excuse me miss. Could I ask you a question?"

I thought to myself, Whenever anyone does that "could I ask you a question" shit you know something annoying is coming. Asking for money or asking for sex or asking for something that will lead to one of those things in one form or another. If someone just has a question about say directions or a request for matches, it's just "Excuse me miss [insert harmless and innocent question here]" with none of that "could I ask you a question" follow-up.

Anywho, as I was thinking all this, the woman responds (apparently thinking as I was). She says, "It's seems to me you already are asking me a question."

The guy is clearly thrown off a bit and just says, "What?"

And she says, "'Could I ask you a question?' is a question. Do you see the problem?"

Pretty snotty, but pretty much on target if you ask me.

I was out of earshot before I found out how things went from there, but I'm guessing it didn't go the way the guy had originally planned.

Wait Until You Leave The Train

Two things I witnessed on the subway today (by two separate people at two separate times) that fall into the category of "not appropriate activities to do in public" and especially fall into the category of "not appropriate activities to do in public when in a fairly restricted space":

1. flossing teeth
2. cutting toenails

Pretty nasty.

Cluck, cluck

Oh, little man ... you are in a lot of trouble. It's a giant chicken. Don't just sit there. Run! Run like you have never run before!!

Peace Sells

I know we're not voting for President this year, but on this eve of Election Day perhaps it' s a good time to start thinking about your options.

This quote from an interview in the Sydney Morning Herald by Dave Mustaine of Megadeth pretty much has me sold on my 2008 candidate of choice:

"I'd be a really cool president (of the U.S.A.), I guarantee you, man. We'd have a party for a few days and then American sentiment in the world would go up.

"I'd say, 'We're taking back our soldiers from Germany, Korea, the Philippines and the Middle East. You guys fight your own f—ing battles. And by the way, if you're in the United States right now and you're illegal you've got a 90-day grace period. Get out.' Teachers would get paid a lot of money, so would cops. Politicians would get shit."

Get out your write-in voting pencils! This country (and maybe even the world) is as good as fixed.

Sporting Weekend

The latter half of last week I spent out on Long Island for some conferences and learnin' courtesy of work. Three days dealing with my geographical arch enemy -- Long Island. Exhausting.

Having survived my fight to survive out on Long Island, upon my return to NYC on Friday evening it was no rest for the wicked. I dumped my crap off at home and headed up to Hunter College for some Gotham Girls Roller Derby. This time was Manhattan Mayhem vs. Brooklyn Bombshells. My borough reps, the Mayhem eeked out a victory by one point launching their bruised asses into the finals. Here's a taste of the action: That's trouble in the works there on the right.

Post victory, it was down for more action. This time of the bowling variety. No photos (because they came out like shit as bowling photos so often do). But trust me. There was bowling. And drinking.

Saturday, admittedly was a bit of a negative as far as sports go, unless you count lying on the couch, watching college football and eating some sushi.

Sunday I got back on it with a viewing of the ING New York City Marathon. I know viewing isn't half as impressive as participating, but shit, it's still something right? Plus, it makes for some decent photo ops (this would especially be the case if I had any photography talent). Anyway, let's move on.

First group is the wheel chair division. These fuckers fly.

Here's eventual winner Jelena Prokopcuka (in the orange shorts) kicking everyone's ass.

Here is the guy everyone was excited to see ... Lance Armstrong (in the dark green). Even the locals up on 1st Avenue and 103rd Street, know who Lance Armstrong is.

"You Are Freakin' Hot" This is my second favorite fan sign. I was unable to confirm if the sign was made for a certain runner, all the runners or just me, but either way, it's better than "Run. Bubba. Run." which I saw someone else holding up.

And this one is my favorite sign of the day. It's what everyone is thinking, this guy just had the balls and the artistic talent to make it happen. Kudos.

The end.

Oh, and I also watched the Steelers crap it up yet again. Super Bowl champs, my ass.

Happy Halloween!

Finally, Seats in the 100 Section

Today I selected for myself two season ticket seats at MSG for The New York Titans. My first season tickets for anything, so that is sort of exciting. I know it's not Rangers or Knicks season tickets, but it's a start. And to be perfectly honest, I'd prefer tickets to lacrosse over those two shit storms.

There are just four games at the MSG home and the first home game is in January, so if you have any desire share in my purchase, I suggest you be nice to me starting now.

Hombre Loco Del Pollo

Back in the days when my office was located in New York City instead of Jersey City I did a good share of lunching at a place we like to call "Chicken Man" but was really just one of the many halal food carts scattered around my office and the rest of the city. $4 for lamb or chicken (or a combo if feeling crazy) with rice and salad. You can't beat that. Sure there is the chance that you may find a chunk of metal in your food or perhaps shit your pants before you are even through with your meal, but it's still worth it.

Anyway, it seems as though my first choice Chicken Man was the scene of a disagreement that didn't end so well: http://www.nydailynews.com/front/story/466625p-392516c.html

I'm guessing that this is the sort of food purchase transaction Allah would approve of.

Bonds of Habit

Dear Mr. Steinbrenner,

I know you love to sign guys that will probably wind up in the Hall of Fame, put asses in Yankee stadium seats and and make headlines. It might be beyond love with you and possibly more of an addiction in your case. Anyway, no matter what you call it, do me a favor and don't sign Barry Bonds if he becomes up for grabs.

I know you are probably thinking about it this very minute. Maybe taking a shit or watching Seinfeld and just thinking about Bonds hitting balls over Monument Park. Despite his age, cost, drama and alleged bad habits, you're thinking about it. But please, please listen to me here. Bonds is the last thing NY needs.

Thanks,
WJR

Big Enough To Saddle

I was going through my old e-mails today and found this exchange between two ladies I work with:

Hello K. and M.,

I realize that there are already roach traps in the ladies bathroom on the 8th floor. However, a few other females I have spoken with have been seeing the bugs often and there have been multiple roaches in there every day for the last week. The roaches are huge and I am really apprehensive about using the bathroom at all. I was just wondering if there is any further action that can be taken to help stop the roach problem. Thanks alot, and have a great day.

M.L.

response:

Hi M.L.,

They're actually waterbugs and yes I know some are big enough to saddle and ride. I'll speak with the Exterminator about changing the treatment to something stronger. Perhaps they're becoming "immune" to the current pesticide.

K.

I haven't witnessed anything of the sort in the men's room yet, but I think I will buy some spurs and perhaps some sort of firearm just in case.

If It's Good Enough for Magnum It's Good Enough For Me

So, the Yankees are out. The Mets are out. I feel like I have to take sides in the World Series, so I'll be trying my best to be like Magnum.


Go Tigers!

Magnum or no Magnum, the Cardinals are corny as hell.

Save The Children

ATTN Children:

The following acts are no longer permitted during recess: running, jumping, pushing, yelling, hopscotch, swinging, climbing, throwing, skipping, ball playing, getting near others and most importantly, NO having fun and NO taking risks!

Thank you.

Man, I fear for the society of fat, socially retarded pussies the kids of today are going to become. Seriously.

Oh, and a note to Celeste D'Elia: "Near collisions" ... the kids are on foot, not in airplanes. Collisions of little humans under four feet in height aren't often fatal. Maybe you should wrap your kid in bubble wrap, strap a helmet on him and keep him indoors so he never gets any boo-boos.

BARF!

Not it! Mass. Elementary School Bans Tag

ATTLEBORO, Mass. - Tag, you're out! Officials at an elementary school south of Boston have banned kids from playing tag, touch football and any other unsupervised chase game during recess for fear they'll get hurt and hold the school liable.

Recess is "a time when accidents can happen," said Willett Elementary School Principal Gaylene Heppe, who approved the ban.

While there is no districtwide ban on contact sports during recess, local rules have been cropping up. Several school administrators around Attleboro, a city of about 45,000 residents, took aim at dodgeball a few years ago, saying it was exclusionary and dangerous.

Elementary schools in Cheyenne, Wyo., and Spokane, Wash., also recently banned tag during recess. A suburban Charleston, S.C., school outlawed all unsupervised contact sports.

"I think that it's unfortunate that kids' lives are micromanaged and there are social skills they'll never develop on their own," said Debbie Laferriere, who has two children at Willett, about 40 miles south of Boston. "Playing tag is just part of being a kid."

Another Willett parent, Celeste D'Elia, said her son feels safer because of the rule. "I've witnessed enough near collisions," she said.

Take That, Chuck

Call me immature if you will, but this shit kills me:

Food Ideas Without The Headache

I hate to get all supportive of a Martha Stewart endeavor, but I caught a little of Everyday Food tonight. Pretty good.

Quick, easy meals. Like Rachael Ray's 30 Minute Meals only faster and less annoying.

More Room In The Talk Machine

So, I got my wisdom teeth out on Friday. Four teeth out all at once. After everyone telling me all their wisdom teeth horror stories I was expecting the worst, but it never really got to that level. My face was swollen, and I was bloody and sore, but really no legitimate pain. I didn't even take any of my vicodin.

This surgery was my first endeavor into the world of anesthesia. I've never been out cold before other than booze-related out cold. It was pretty cool. One second you are talking to the surgeon about whatever bullshit you talk to a surgeon about and the next second (40 minutes later) you are missing four teeth and are heading out to pay.

I had full intention of requesting my teeth so I could bring them home and get some loot from the Tooth Fairy or at the very least make some cool wisdom tooth earrings or a necklace. During all the filling out of forms, meeting surgeon helpers and answering questions, I totally forgot. Part way through the surgery I remember saying to save my teeth. I still am not sure if I made any sense to anyone other than myself, but I did hear the surgeon tell one of his assistants to give me another shot of sleepy. At the time I didn't even realize I had been out. I thought the whole thing had just started. Hindsight filled me in on my incorrectness. So, to the people working on my mouth, they had a guy quiet and sleepy for what I am guessing to be at least 15 minutes and all of a sudden I this guy is saying, "Make sure you save those for me." If they could understand me, it must have been pretty funny.

Another odd thing I remember from my time in dopey land was music. The music had started before any drugs had been administered. The surgeon told me pre-surgery, "We'll try not to rock out too hard" and I told him I was fully capable of handling whatever rock he sent my way. He had the band Mest on (I had to ask who it was), which was certainly within my rockin' tolerance. The odd part of all this was when I was "out" I specifically remember the line, "Well I'd be better off dead than lying here alone" which isn't the most surgery friendly thing to hear. It also goes "I cut you deep, I stitched you up ... ". Fucking odd. It turns out to be the song "Cursed" which doesn't seem to be about oral surgery, but it could have fooled me at the time.

All in all, it was a job well done. I'm slightly afraid of the final bill, but the surgeon seemed pretty excellent, and I'm more than willing to be a little broke rather than mangled and pained. If anyone needs some mouth fixin' you can let me know and I'll give you my surgeon's info.

A Week In One Post

It's unfortunate that I haven't been blogging lately as I have actually had shit to talk about for once. Well, I'm back now so I'll give you a brief overview so you don't feel lost.

Late last week I got some job news. My company has restructuring plans in motion which involves consolidating all the current U.S. bureaus down to just two. Two bureaus. Two cities. Chicago and Dallas? No. New York and Los Angeles? No. It's going to be Cleveland and Albuquerque. Yup, Cleveland and Albuquerque. As I don't have any big desire to move to either place, I'll be officially out on my ass on April 1, 2007 (if not before). I'm sure there will be much more about this to come.

Monday, my good high school friend, visiting from Massachusetts, came over with his wife and kids for some dinner. I made a pretty kick ass chicken. Whole. Roasted. Garlicky. Delicious. I also got to see my friend's youngest barf on him at least three times. That never gets old. Good times.

Tuesday, I went to the Nokia Theatre to see Trivium. They rocked pretty hard. I felt slightly older than I like to feel, but also slightly more metal than I have in awhile. Here's a video that someone was nice enough to make available for me (and you):


Wednesday, I went to Webster Hall to see Basement Jaxx (yes, that's back-to-back concerts). They were fucking great. I'd say one of the top 10 shows I have ever seen. Maybe even top 5. I didn't feel old at this show, but I did feel very American as I seemed to be in a room filled with Brits. Dancing, drunken Brits. Something you may want to remember just in case it comes up: the opening band called The Double ... how do I put this politely? They sucked. If I had brought a dog to the show it would have howled in agony the whole set. Avoid them. So, Basement Jaxx = thumbs up, The Double = thumbs down. Nobody has been nice enough to post a video of this show yet. In the meantime, here's a Basement Jaxx video. It involves primates, so you know it's good:

*Update* A concert clip has been added. It's a montage, so try to keep up:


Tomorrow is the 13th. Friday the 13th. I'll be heading to an oral surgeon I have never met, lie in a chair, let him fill me with a drug that will render me "out" and dig four teeth out my face. It should be Friday fun at its best (although probably still better than work). Then it is drugs, ice packs, and X-Men movie marathon and liquidy food intake.

I'll report back when (and if) my brain and face recovers.

Lend a Hand For Once

I'm sure you started the year with some sort of resolution to get in shape or curse less or be nicer or volunteer at an orphanage or something equally unachievable.

We're now halfway through October and God knows you haven't accomplished any of those resolutions. As a matter of fact, you probably haven't done much of anything for yourself or anyone else. Now is the time. Here's your chance. My pal Kelly is going to be marathoning her ass around Walt Disney World in the Walt Disney World Marathon soon enough and she's raising money for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society while she goes.

Help Kelly get to her fund raising goal. Help blood cancer research. Help your own feeling of personal satisfaction and karma! Donate here: click

Go ahead, you'll feel good.

Thanks ET

Last night the news was (of course) filled with Cory Lidle and his plane crash. A bit later in the evening I flip by and pause briefly at Entertainment Tonight. They make a quick mention of the tragedy, but then say something along the lines of: "More on this tragedy and the baseball star involved later, but first a 'Dancing With The Stars' update."

Ah, priorities.

As the Bloodhound Gang likes to say ...

... Hooray for Boobies:

Forget Airbags, Silicone Breasts Will Do
SOFIA (AFP) - A woman in the northern Bulgarian town of Ruse survived a car crash thanks to her silicone breasts which acted as an airbag, a newspaper has reported.

The 24-year-old ran through a red light and crashed her car into another vehicle at a busy crossroad in the middle of town Saturday, the daily Standart said.

"The two cars were crumpled past recognition in the crash but the woman's silicone breasts acted as airbags and saved her life," Standart wrote, citing eyewitness reports.

But survival as well as beauty comes at a price as the woman burst her silicon implants in the crash.

=====
Note to auto makers: Dashboards, walls, steering wheels? Make 'em out of silicon.

Rollin'

It's taken me a bit, but I am finally going to mention the highlight of my weekend. Saturday, thanks to my friend Shane's urging and Subarau piloting I went to Long Island (yuck!) to see something called Suburban Brawl. Sounds awesome, yes? Indeed it was. Suburban Brawl was roller derby. A double header of ladies roller derby to be exact. First up was Wicked Wheelers of the West vs. East End Ladies of Laceration, followed by Manhattan Mayhem vs. Queens of Pain.

It was good shit. Good competition, some aggression, some crashes, great competitor and referee names, some falls into the fans (aka me) ... I guess the word I'm looking for here is entertaining. It was fucking entertaining.

I got me some photos so you can get a wee taste of what it all looks like. I'd recommend that you go see if for yourself though so you can get the full effect --

Instead of some CDs filling the air with pre-competition firin' up, roller derby gets a real band.
They were rockin' it pretty hard.

Warning signs everywhere. Warning signs ignored. I sat front row, right on turn two -- the center of wipeout alley.

Two of the "pivots" lock it up.

Queens of Pain's Suzy Hotrod blurs by.

Slamtime. Nice!

Official recap here
Official photos here

Crossbreeding the Annoyance

We have a television mounted on the wall at work. Usually, we have something that makes us look like we are on top of our game -- you know, CNN, MSNBC, Bloomberg, etc. Well, today Ch. 7 (ABC) has been on all morning. It was fine until 10:00 ... God, no! The Rachael Ray Show.

The sound was really low so at least I couldn't really hear her squawking, but it is still awful to watch her animated excitement and interest. I was just starting to achieve my goal of ignoring this madness, when her guest comes out. I'm not sure if things could get any worse. It's Dr. Phil. Rachael Ray and Dr. Phil. It's like a tag team of awful.

They cook, they smirk, they chat, they giggle, they touch, they laugh ... P U K E !

Worst Mom Ever

This story really is one of the worst I have ever heard. An accident, I'm sure, but still. People who believe that kids should be learning abstinence instead of learning about birth control options should really be forced to read this article and/or talk to this "mother":

Teen Mom Arraigned in Horrific Baby Death at East Harlem Shelter

Friday September 22, 2006
by Adam Goldman
Associated Press Writer


NEW YORK (AP) -- Four-month-old Niah Ford should have been sleeping in a crib. Instead, her teenage mother after swilling gin put the baby in her bed at their East Harlem homeless shelter.

The decision cost Niah her life. The infant fell into a bucket filled with vomit, water and cleaning solution that was next to the bed.

Savarin DeJesus, 18, was arraigned Friday in Manhattan Criminal Court and charged with criminally negligent homicide and endangering the welfare of a child.

"I loved my baby. I want you to know that," a weeping and visibly shaken DeJesus told the judge during the brief hearing.

The criminal complaint filed against DeJesus revealed more details about the horrific case, and what DeJesus was doing in the hours leading up to Niah's death.

DeJesus told a NYPD detective that she had a date on Sept. 15 and left the infant late that night in the care of a person living at the shelter.

During the course of the evening, DeJesus drank a 20-ounce soda bottle that was filled half with soda and half with gin, according to the complaint.

The next day, at about 3:40 a.m., she returned to the shelter stinking of booze and retrieved her baby. A few minutes later after chatting with some residents of the shelter and smoking cigarettes, she took Niah back to her room and changed her clothing and diaper.

That's when she told police she felt sick and vomited into the bucket next to the bed. She then laid down on the bed and passed out, clutching Niah's legs.

When she awoke between 2 p.m. and 2:30 p.m., DeJesus found the baby's head inside the bucket that contained about six inches of liquid. The baby was taken to the hospital where she was pronounced dead.

The cause of death was either asphyxiation or drowning, according to the medical examiner's office. The complaint said the baby smelled strongly of alcohol.

It's not clear if the shelter, called the Fox House, had a crib. A spokeswoman with the city's Department of Homeless Services was trying to determine if the shelter had one available and whether an investigation had been launched into whether the shelter had followed appropriate guidelines.

On Friday, DeJesus' lawyer told the judge that Niah's death was unintentional.

"She loved her baby and would never hurt her," Kenneth Gilbert said.

Gilbert said DeJesus had no criminal record and was taking antidepressants in the wake of Niah's death.

He said his client, who's from Staten Island, was living at the shelter so she could be closer to the baby's father.

DeJesus was being held on a $1,000 cash bail or $3,000 bond. Gilbert expected her to be released Friday.

Associated Press Writer Sam Maull contributed to this story.

Losing Wisdom

Finally, about 15 years later than I should, I have made an appointment to get my wisdom teeth out. So, fill yourself with all of my wisdom now, because as of October 13, 2006 the wisdom will be yanked out and replaced with stitches, gauze and pain killers.

In a possible bit of bad planning (if you are a superstitious type) my appointment making went something like this:

Me: Hi, I'd like to make an appointment to get my wisdom teeth removed.
Dental Office: OK, do you have a date when you would like to do that?
Me: I was thinking of October 13th
D.O.: OK, how about 10 o'clock?
Me: Sure. That sounds fine.
D.O.: And do you want local anesthetic, nitrous or IV drip anesthetic?
Me: Ooh, I didn't know I had a choice ... I think knocked out. You think that is my best bet?
D.O.: How many teeth?
Me: All four and a couple of them are in there pretty good.
D.O.: Well, probably go with the IV, the knocked out option. You just need someone to pick you up after.
Me: OK. Well, then let's go knocked out style.
D.O.: You can always let us know if you change your mind.
Me: Great.
D.O.: So, I guess that's it. We'll see you Friday, October 13th at 10am.
Me: Friday the 13th ... I didn't think this through very well. Friday the 13th probably isn't the smartest choice for something like this.
D.O.: And they call 'em wisdom teeth.

It's All In The Genes

+ =

Not Able To Get The Job Done

How embarrassing is it to get hired to kill a 51-year-old nurse, be armed with a fairly fool-proof weapon and still wind up getting strangled to death? Embarrassing!

Worst. Hired killer. Ever.

Police: Strangled 'Intruder' a Hit Man

By ANNE M. PETERSON, Associated Press Writer

PORTLAND, Ore. - When Susan Kuhnhausen returned home from work one day earlier this month, she encountered an intruder wielding a claw hammer. After a struggle, the 51-year-old nurse fended off her attacker by strangling him with her bare hands.

Neighbors praised the woman for her bravery, and investigators said they believed the dead man -- Edward Dalton Haffey -- was burglarizing Kuhnhausen's home. But after an investigation, police now say the intruder Kuhnhausen strangled was apparently a hit man hired by her estranged husband -- Michael James Kuhnhausen Sr. -- to kill her.

The 58-year-old husband was taken into custody Thursday and charged with conspiracy to commit murder and attempted murder. He was ordered held on $500,000 bail.

Haffey had worked as a custodian under Kuhnhausen at an adult video store, according an affidavit filed by the Multnomah County District Attorney's office.

Kuhnhausen and his wife were in the process of getting a divorce, and she told officers "her husband was distraught about the divorce and wanting to reconcile but that she was insisting on the divorce," the affidavit states.

A background check showed Haffey had served lengthy prison terms for conspiracy to commit aggravated murder and convictions for robbery and burglary.

Inside a backpack Haffey left at the scene was a day planner with "Call Mike, Get letter," scribbled on the week of Sept. 4, the affidavit said. Michael Kuhnhausen's cell phone number was jotted on the inside of a folder, it said.

An emergency room nurse who lives in a southeast Portland neighborhood, Susan Kuhnhausen arrived home on the evening of Sept. 6 to find Haffey coming at her with a claw hammer.

She was struck in the head and wrested the weapon away, but the struggle continued and Haffey bit the nurse, according to police. A large woman, she was eventually able to get the slight Haffey into a chokehold and police later found him dead in a hallway. An autopsy revealed the cause of death as strangulation.

Police say she acted in self-defense.

There was no sign of forced entry into the home, but according to the affidavit, Susan Kuhnhausen offered an explanation for the lack of evidence of a break-in: Her estranged husband had the security codes for the home's alarm system, and would have been able to disarm it.

Michael Kuhnhausen denies any involvement, the affidavit states.

Susan Kuhnhausen was out of town attending a nursing conference and did not immediately return a phone call seeking comment.

She left this message on her voicemail: "I'm not able to answer all the calls that I've received in the past few days. I'm being comforted by your concern and your support. I want you to know that our lives are all at risk for random acts, but more likely random acts of love will come your way than random acts of violence."

It Isn't Breaking The Rules If The Comments Come From Someone Else

I made a little rule for myself to stop writing about Rachael Ray anymore, because (a) it just gives her more exposure that she doesn't need or deserve (b) it's not very nice and (c) watching her drives me nuts, and to get material I would have to watch.

Today, I'm on the computer and my wife is watching Rachael whip up some 30 minute meals. The comments coming from behind me were too good to not put on record. During one 30 minute show, here are some comments my wife made that almost took away the pain of Rachael's annoying voice pumping abbreviations and alliteration into my ears. I couldn't have said it better myself:

God, your ass is getting huge!

Of course you can, look at your fucking gut.

What is wrong with your boobs!?

Rachael: I put butter and cheese on lots of things.
WJR's wife: Like your toothbrush?

Obviously, rules are made to be broken.

Almost Genius

So, Supernova has a new singer and my prediction wasn't quite right. Almost a genius, but not quite. Lucas Rossi is the guy. I only missed by one, though as Dilana came in second.

Here's another prediction. Actually, not a prediction, but rather more of an opinion stated: Supernova sucks. The guys in the band may be good and may be famous, but the two songs I have heard are average as hell and boring as hell. All show, the guys are telling the potential singers, "You need to bring the rock" but they aren't following their own advice. They are bringin' jack shit. Fucking blah.

Starts The Meal Off Right

I caught a commercial for the exciting new appetizers at T.G.I. Fridays yesterday. Just seeing the SIZZLING TRIPLE MEAT FUNDIDO -- A combination of sizzling cheeses blended with pepperoni, Italian sausage and bacon. Served sizzling with warm breadsticks for dipping -- makes me feel like shitting in my pants.

And if that wouldn't do it, the CRISPY GREEN BEAN FRIES (fried green beans) and FRIED MAC & CHEESE certainly would finish me right off.

Sort of Back

Well, my computer is back from round 2 of its fix-o-rama. Hopefully this will be the last. Now I can start blogging about all the awesome shit I have been doing/witnessing/thinking.

[cricket chirps]

[cricket chirps]

[cricket chirps]

Rain Issues

Dear umbrella users,

When you have an umbrella held over your head, please realize that you need to increase your distance from others. With an umbrella you need more than your usual shoulder width to get by others. You'd think this would be obvious, but my whole walk home today I had umbrellas jabbing me in the head, the face, the arm, etc. It's fucking annoying having little, metal umbrella spikes jabbing at you. And just to let you know, I'm not against punching your umbrella so it smacks you in your own head or even ripping it from your hands and crushing it into a useless tangle.

Thanks.

Oh, and this goes with extra emphasis to the ladies. I know you are used guys lifting their umbrellas higher so you don't have an umbrella collision which is very nice and all, but although I am as chivalrous as them, I don't use an umbrella (because they are fucking useless) and I have not yet figured out a way to disconnect my head and raise it out of the way of your umbrella. So until then, keep your shit away from me.

Sincerely,
WJR

(Attempted) Dancing Queen

In the song Clint Eastwood by Gorillaz one part goes:

Rhythm

You have it or you don't that's a fallacy ...

Well, I went to see Better Than Ezra last night and after watching the girl and guy in front of me (they weren't together, it was all chance), I can say with confidence that the Gorillaz had that wrong. These two had zero rhythm. Zero.

I noticed the guy off to my right pretty much immediately, trying to sort of dance and clap and whatnot. Total spaz. Off the beat, pained look on his face, bumping into others, etc. The girl, the real issue, was right in front of me. Alarmingly close on occasion. She was spinning around, facing away from the stage, hunching over and really looking retarded. A few times I wasn't sure if I was about to be smootched on the lips or knocked out by a flailing arms. She was madness. Now, I don't normally make fun of anyone's dancing as I'm no pro, but this girl was a combo of Axl Rose when he does that sidewinder dance, a one legged stripper, Elaine from Seinfeld and a penguin.

I tried to get a photo, but it was just too dark. Photo or not, it was not pretty.

Mr. Morning

I love when the first word out of my mouth for the day makes me laugh at my own prickishness.

I was on my way to subway via rollerblades this morning around 5:40am. It's barely light, I'm bordering on late, I'm fairly sleepy (if you know me this means "not wanting to talk") and I'm rolling along at a pretty good clip. A guy on a bike is coming the opposite way and does a quick U-turn so he is heading the same way as me, obviously ready to ask something stupid or tell me his B.S. story that he has been rehearsing all night or if nothing else, mess up my momentum and "me time". As I come up on him and roll on by we have this brief yet enjoyable exchange:

Bike guy: Hey buddy, can I ask you something?

Me: Nope.

Putting the Art in Fart

So, it looks like we have all the submissions that we are going to get in the "draw my parasite" contest. Surprise, the usual suspects were all involved. In my book, all submissions were quite delightful and I think everyone is a winner. You may think otherwise (especially the bitter artists). Nevertheless, let's look at the submissions (click on the long URL for the art in motion) --

Toole's:

http://admin3.imaginationatwork.com/LaunchPage?aFileType=&_nolivecache&aDrawingID=20060813_081408703_1832726033_usa



Meg K.'s:

http://admin3.imaginationatwork.com/LaunchPage?aFileType=&_nolivecache&aDrawingID=20060816_081340701_987522782_usa
Editors are advised that due to a technical glitch during the sending of the art, the text within the picture and the caption did not post. She was saying "Oh my, I just love it here in Bill's butt. I'm going to stay forever!" and the caption was "Beautiful, but deadly"


Lozo's:

http://admin3.imaginationatwork.com/LaunchPage?aFileType=&_nolivecache&aDrawingID=20060812_213255437_1560507130_usa
Editors are advised that due to a technical glitch during the sending of the art, the text within the picture did not post. It should read, "I am here to destroy Bill's poop!"


Last but not least ... AND it should be noted the first submission -- done before this was even a contest. Meg C.'s:
http://admin3.imaginationatwork.com/LaunchPage?aFileType=&_nolivecache&aDrawingID=20060720_135250291_1859462958_usa


Feel free to discuss / critique / judge.

Buzz Worthy

Newly joined up to the Netflix world, I have been hunting their archives of crap as to fill my brain with even more useless quotes, plots and other pointless brain clogging material. This is my favorite movie synopsis yet:

Killer Bees
When a truck crashes in a small town, releasing a torrent of angry killer bees, it's up to the sheriff (C. Thomas Howell) to convince everyone they're deadly -- but no one except a local beekeeper believes him. And wouldn't you know it? The bees have arrived just when the town's abuzz about the annual Honey Festival. Tracy Nelson (daughter of 1950s icon Ricky Nelson and sister of the hair-band duo Nelson) co-stars in this made-for-TV thriller.

It could be so bad it's good, but somehow I am guessing it is so bad it's shit. Perhaps I will someday get the balls to watch it, but so far, I just can't do it.

Totally Crossed Out

Last night I went out for a few frosty beverages with my old roommate. First stop was B-Side.

Who was DJing? David Cross. I first saw the sign outside and figured it must be some other David Cross. I mean, why would David Cross be hanging out in the same dumpy place as moi? And as long as I'm asking myself questions, why even bother with a DJ at this place? Either way, as it turns out it actually was the actor/comedian David Cross. I'm not much of a celebrity junkie and even when I see a celebrity, I never say anything or make a big deal, but I still like it.

I generally don't see (or perhaps it's just that I don't recognize) many "famous" folks, but Cross is the third person from Arrested Development I have seen at random. I once saw Kitty Sanchez on 52nd Street, between 6th and 7th Avenue. Then I saw Buster Bluth in L.A. And now I can add Tobias Fünke to that random list.

Although these cast member siteings are nice, I would still prefer it if I could spot them once a week in full character on my TV like I used to be able to before Fox wrecked it for me.

You Should Be In Art School

Dave has made his own rendition of my parasite:


See it being made here.

Dave does this, not just to create a tribute, but rather because he has an DNA-based issue that forces him to make everything a competition. In this case, he wanted to flex his artistic muscle in an attempt to prove that he is better suited to document the moment than Meg is. I'm not so sure I find myself in agreement that his creation is better, but I suppose art isn't really something that can be judged. Especially computer art of something microscopic.

Thanks for the effort though. Anyone else that feels like making an artistic tribute or being a competitive art dork, feel free to create something (here or otherwise) and e-mail it to me.

Last Stop ... America

I bet we see ya in L.A. or N.Y. very soon, Beckham: http://cbs.sportsline.com/soccer/story/9596952

You too, Posh ... I guess.

Health and Vitality

I have run across this supersized infomercial on i (formerly known as PAX) a couple of times recently. I think it is 30 minutes (maybe more?) and formatted like a news program. Everyone is very serious. Very serious about clean colons. It's fucking ridiculous and slightly gross, yet somehow I can not look away from the horror. I think they have one for another ailment too, but this is the one that fascinates me the most (of course).

This is the guy who is the colon "expert":
He's all business. He makes a lot of awesome faces and hand gestures to show how serious dirty colons are and how expert he is.

Is a clean colon the secret to health and vitality? The expert seems to think so.

I still haven't actually hung around long enough to figure out what the hell this infomercial is promoting. I'm guessing from the conversation I have witnessed is that it is something that makes you shit out everything you have inside you -- probably even vital organs. When you do, you may or may not make this face:
Keep an eye out for it.

Speaking of shitting, I've had some inquiries of my parasitical status. Well, I feel better, thank you very much. However, before you get all "hip, hip, hooray" on my ass, I am still not 100% cured. I have to have some more testing done (probably this week) to see if the parasite has been killed by the medication I was on, or if it has just gone into temporary hiding. Apparently parasite are sneaky and rather resilient.

On the parasite note, my co-worker Meg made me this artistic tribute to my parasite on GE's very entertaining Imagination Cubed site: See the painstaking process of making this here.

Although this may very well be an accurate portrayal of what is going on inside of me, I don't care for the smile and carefree attitude that parasite has one bit. Little fucker!

Mad Hatter

Dear gal at the post office,

You are not at The Kentucky Derby. You aren't at a polo match. You aren't even at a fancy hat wearin' funeral. You are at the post office in Jersey City. You were having trouble seeing the guy behind the counter because the brim is so big. That hat is not only unnecessary, it's retarded.

Sincerely,
WJR

PS I've never seen someone involved in such elaborate (aka never-ending) mailing in my life.

Always Excuses

I know I haven't posted in fucking forever. I also know most of you don't give a fat shit. Actually, more importantly, I realize there isn't really a "most of you" except for A.P. who seems to have gotten so disgusted that he has given up on insulting me and my blogging.

That said, I'll let you know what my problem was/is. First my computer which I only purchased in February died. After two weeks, a new logic board, camera board and disc drive, it was once again ready for action. Unfortunately, this exciting action has been delayed thanks to a lack of internet connection (thank you Time Warner).

So, someone is coming to fix this shit on Thursday but I have just made the realization (without even trying) that my neighbors signal floats into my computer, so I am now sort of online until then.

So, that is my pathetic attempt at an excuse. Welcome back, me.

Rage Against The Paycheck

It must be nice to have seven figures dangled in front of you and be able to turn down: Audioslave over?

Seven figures = $x,xxx,xxx. Fill in each "x" with whatever digits you want and I think it is safe to say I'd take it ... doing almost anything.

U-S-A! U-S-A!

"I'm so happy I made it to the semi-finals of the Miss Universe Pageant, I could just shit! There, that feels better. Yes!"

Next Time I'll Get It To Go

Last night, I decided to enjoy a little burrito action at Chipotle so I cruised down to the location on St. Mark's. I got a seat at the counter by the window which normally makes for some interesting viewing while munching solo.

Not this time.

I had some St. Mark's urchins having a makeout fest on the steps right below me. It's about a thousand degrees, the stairs are dirty as hell, they're dirty as hell ... fucking unappetizing to say the least.
He's not gonna pork her, Russ.