Tuesday, May 31, 2005

Garden State

This past Memorial Day weekend, I spent my time doing what I have done the past few summer holiday weekends: attending a wedding. This one allowed me to tour the great state of New Jersey, seeing such places as Cherry Hill, Livingston, and Whippany (a virtual who's who of New Jersey towns).

It started out with a trip to a friend of my girlfriend's parents' house in Livingston. A bunch of us were going to stay there the night before the wedding (Saturday night) so that we could hang out at her pool and then go to the rehersal dinner. The house had been described to me as "a mansion" and "really big, with a pool." Coming from the DC suburbs, I always believed such descriptions until I went to college and began to picture Long Island as the swankiest place on earth with houses the size of Kentucky. It was not until I actually went to Long Island for the first time when I realized that their houses were not necessarily any bigger than the ones I grew up in and around, but the people just loved to brag about things more. So I didn't really believe that this house in Livingston was the Taj Mahal.

When we got there, my skepticism was sort of confirmed. The house was really great. Very nice. I wouldn't call it a mansion, but this neighborhood would have fit in anywhere in suburban DC. We went out back to the pool where everyone was and chilled out for a while. There were probably about 15 people there that were either going to the wedding or friends of the family who lived there. There were also 2 dogs: Ralph, a dumb as nails English Pointer who was either hunting bumble bees or knocking his head on the table for most of the afternoon, and Melanie, a scruffy Border Collie who played with Ralph for most of the day.

It was kind of cold, so nobody went in the pool, but we did get treated to barbecue and beers. Apparently, the family who lives there is loaded, so they have a live in housekeeper and another guy who was cooking the hot dogs and burgers. I always feel uncomfortable around these people, especially when they are doing things like cooking burgers, which I would have done for free. Anyway, things were pretty tame until another friend of the family came with his dog, Kelly.

Kelly was a Boxer/Pit Bull mix. Immediately, one of the guys going to the wedding who isn't into dogs (to put it lightly) was like, "Is that a Pit Bull?" It was confirmed by someone else and he stayed away and waited for the watermelon. The dog was pretty harmless to begin with. Then the dog's owner started throwing a tennis ball into the pool and Kelly would jump in and fetch it. I thought that the J-Man would not approve of this because a dog in a pool (much like a dog in a bathtub) is about the dirtiest thing you could do to the pool. When Kelly would get out of the pool with the ball, the other dogs would go towards her and try and get the ball. Well, Melanie would. I think Ralph just liked to follow the other dogs.

Then after one time in the pool, Kelly got out with the ball and Melanie came up to her. Kelly went nuts and chomped down on Melanie's ear and would not let go. It was actually pretty scary. People tried to separate them, but nobody could do anything until the guy cooking the burgers came over and poured water on Kelly's nose so she couldn't breathe and had to open her mouth. Luckily, Melanie was not hurt in the altercation and Ralph seemed almost oblivious to the whole incident. Shortly after Melanie was confirmed as being ok, Kelly and her owner wisely left. The lesson, as always: dog fights rule.

Next came the rehearsal dinner. We went to an Italian restaurant about 20 minutes away from the house. Now, you should know at this point that the bride in the wedding is a friend of my girlfriend from a semester abroad in Israel in college, so she is about 27. The groom is 39. But you would never know he was that old if you met him. I certainly had no clue about his age until someone told me. I always assumed he was close to my age. Anyway, his friends are all his age and are married with kids. Not babies, mind you, like 5 or 8 year olds. And his friends party. Hard. By the end of the rehearsal dinner, one of his friends was clearly all coked up and not making any sense. This was going to be a funny wedding to say the least.

When I woke up the next morning, I went upstairs to find all of the other people awake and eating breakfast. Even though I made it clear that I don't drink coffee, everyone else must have wanted it because the mother who lived there was yelling at the housekeeper because she didn't have a fresh pot of coffee going at all times. Oh, and by the way, it was the housekeper's birthday. Happy birthday! Everyone else then launched into their crazy ass food neuroses. Since the wedding was a largely vegetarian event (I know, but what are you going to do?), everyone was dreading the Salmon that was going to be served at dinner. Plans were made for pretty much everyone except for me to order the vegetable tower instead and eat a pizza before the ceremony.

The next major crisis was that the wedding was supposed to begin at 3pm, but we were not going to be allowed to check in until 4. This would mean that we would have to get ready somewhere else and take our shit with us and check it before the wedding, then pick it up afterwards. Obviously, this is a rediculous and unacceptable proposition. (If you are keeping track, the tally is up to: wedding on the sunday of memorial day, in bumblefuck NJ, vegetarian, beginning and ending early, and no check in until after it starts). After a few too many calls to the front desk, we finally were able to wrangle 2 rooms for 1 o'clock check in.

After some more laying out by the pool and watching Ralph attack the porch swing, we headed over to the hotel. Along the way, we picked up the aforementioned pizza. The hotel was nice and more importantly had an Irish bar in the lobby. We would be needing this because the wedding was going to start at 3 pm and end at 9. Up to the room we went to eat pizza (not me), get ready, and watch Midnight Run.

The wedding ceremony was pretty standard, with the normal jewish customs, but the strange part was that the Rabbi was a friend of the bride's from growing up or something. Normally when I picture a Rabbi, a middle aged bald guy with a gut and a beard comes to mind, but this guy looked like he could have been a classmate of mine and even danced to 50 Cent during the reception.

When the cocktail hour began, I had my first glimpses of the vegetarian cuisine. I have to say, even though there was no meat served at all as far as I could tell, they did a pretty good job of picking out the appetizers. Spinach pies, spring rolls, and lo mein are always solid choices. The only problem with the cocktail hour was that there were only 2 bars open and the lines were deep. I decided to go with what has become my traditional first drink at weddings: scotch on the rocks. I figure if I am goinng to have to wait a long time for a drink, it better pack some punch.

The cocktail hour was also where I first saw the 40 year old party crew. Amongst the funnier characters were a guy who looked just like Freddie Mercury (before AIDS) including a moustache and white suit and a guy who looked like the scientist from Independence Day. Another guy in that crew was named Ken Marx or something like that but inexplicably had the nickname "Murph."

The reception began with the normal dancing and hoopla, as well as a first course of ravioli, which was pretty tasty. I also got my second (and last) scotch of the night. The bar situation was pretty annoying, so I decided to just stick with wine because the waiters would bring it to me. A few times during dinner, the whole over 40 crowd table would be missing. I could only imagine that they were "partying" in the bathroom, but I had not seen any suspicious actions from them other than being a little more rowdy than the usual wedding crowds are.

At some point I ent to the bathroom and all my suspicions were confirmed. There's nothing that says legal like 5 guys in a handicapped stall. However, the funniest thing that happened in the bathroom was when an old guy (like 70 or 80) from another wedding saddled up to the urinal next to mine and ripped a wet fart for all to enjoy. Me and the other guy next to me could barely keep from cracking up.

Everyone's dinner's eventually came out and the salmon was pretty good. I'm glad I din't go with the vegetable tower because I'm not sure that the chef really understood the definition of the word tower. It was more like a vegetable manhole cover. Dessert was an assortment of pastries and wedding cake. I will say that this was one of the better wedding cakes because it had strawberry in the middle. I hate it when wedding cakes have raspberry. Girls are usually obsessed with raspberry for some reason when strawberry is clearly the better fruit.

The wedding ended at 9 and it felt like 12. I'm getting pretty old when I can't drink for 6 straight hours without getting tired. After the wedding, we went to change into normal clothes and go to the Irish Bar. On the way to the room, some younger guys (in their early 20s) made some small talk with us and called my girlfriend hot as they were loading 2 mini refrigerators into their hotel room. I switched to beer at this point and got my second wind. Somehow, we stayed there until about 1 am and finally went back to the room.

The next morning, we went to the brunch (which was not free, but the bride and groom would be there). Normally, I wouldn't want to eat because I don't really like to eat breakfast, but there were the two words that I can only imagine are written on the gates of heaven: breakfast buffet. I'm not sure what I like the best about breakfast buffets. It is either the rediculous amount of pork products that I consume or the ungodly barrage of poo that I unload afterwards. If I could eat breakfast buffets every day, I would definitely weigh close to 1000 pounds.

After eating and saying our goodbyes, we headed home on the never ending highway that is New Jersey. I have to say that for all that could have gone wrong with this wedding, it was pretty fun. Even though the bars were crowded and the food was mostly vegetarian, I still drank like a Kennedy and ate like an animal. As usual, a good time was had by all.

Thursday, May 26, 2005

100th Time's a Charm?

I just applied to my 100th job in the last year or so. How do I know? I have been keeping a list so that when people (read: my mother) claim that I haven't been trying, I can point to my list and say, "actually, I'm up to job #100." The sad part is that for probably at least 75 of the jobs, I have either been qualified or overqualified and still no bites.

What I want to know is that if the jews really control the media (and the law, and sports, and comedy) and we only compose something like 2% of the population, then why can't I get a job in any of those fields? I'm a jew. There have to be old jews dying every day that are leaving jobs open for the next generation. I want to reiterate: I am willing to start at the bottom and stay there.

I also want to know if the jewish mafia is still out there. You know, Ben (don't call me Bugsy) Siegel, Meyer Lansky, and the like. I like the Sopranos. I'd be willing to run numbers or something similarly old timey like that. Plus, I think that living in Vegas would do wonders for my skin.

For your reading pleasure, here is the description of one job I applied for today. They actually replied to me and said that although my credentials were impressive, they could not consider me because I don't currently live in LA. I just wanted to find out who the person is. Any guesses?

Company: Confidential
Title: Celebrity Executive Assistant
Location: Los Angeles CA
Date Posted: 5/25/2005 5:04:40 PM

Description: High profile music celebrity seeks executive assistant to handle business affairs - will liaison with music managers, attys, business management personnel and publicists - will be working out of two LA locations and must be free to travel and have strong experience preferable in music if not for another high profile entertainment personality

Requirements: Must be able to take direction, be available 24/7 and must be assertive yet know your place - be a strong gatekeeper, must get along with longterm personal assistant who will be traveling as part of entourage. Must be calm, be a resourceful problem solver and be able to work in a team environment. Ensure artist's life remains calm and easy, the words ''not in my job description'' shoudl not be part of your vocabulary and know this is a lifestyle choice of position as your world will revolve around employer

Salary: 80 - 100K

I would totally be someone's bitch for that kind of scratch. It would beat wearing a suit to work.

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Top 5 lists

I'm going to steal a page from the Dirty Filter and publish some lists of my own. Here are three.

Top 5 Actresses that make me not want to see a movie

1) Renee “Plastic Face” Zellweger -- She was ok in Jerry Maguire, but now she's just too full of herself and always looks like she just ate a bad grapefruit.
2) Nicole “Overrated” Kidman -- She hasn't been in a movie I've wanted to see since Days of Thunder.
3) Jessica “Dumbass” Simpson -- I'd do her, but she's just so stupid. Unwatchable.
4) Paris “Dumberass” Hilton -- Barely an actress and barely a human being.
5) Dame Judi Dench -- The perennial Oscar lock for token British actress, I've yet to see any of her work and I never will.

Top 5 Albums of all time

1) Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club – The Beatles
2) Thriller – Michael Jackson
3) Paul’s Boutique – Beastie Boys
4) The Wall – Pink Floyd
5) Ten – Pearl Jam

Top 25 Comedy Movies of all time (rated in terms of laughs when I first saw them)(in no particular order, because its just too hard)

1) Airplane
2) Vacation
3) There’s Something About Mary
4) Dumb and Dumber
5) This is Spinal Tap
6) Caddyshack
7) Tommy Boy
8) Waiting for Guffman
9) The Nutty Professor (Eddie Murphy version)
10) Billy Madison
11) Austin Powers
12) Coming to America
13) South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut
14) Cannibal! The Musical
15) Major League
16) Swingers
17) Meet the Parents
18) Revenge of the Nerds
19) Raising Arizona
20) Groundhog Day
21) What About Bob?
22) Animal House
23) Fast Times at Ridgemont High
24) The Jerk
25) Office Space

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Great TV night

Tonight, I will be switching between The Contender Live finale, the American Idol finale, and the NBA Lottery. What a lineup! Of course, its almost a cliche by now to say that the NBA Lottery is fixed, but I have to expect that either the Knicks or Lakers will get the first pick. I almost hope the Knicks get it just to see how Isaiah Thomas screws it up. Thats about it for today.

Monday, May 23, 2005

My family is weird

Yesterday I had the official graduation ceremony for my law school. This meant that I would have to see my father's side of the family. I would probably have seen my mother's side of the family, but she is an only child and is probably mad at me right now for no good reason. Compounding the dreaded "I have to spend time wit my dad's side of the family" problem was that my Uncle was turning 60 and had his party on Saturday night, which I would have to attend. Here's what followed:

Saturday Night:

My Uncle via marriage to my dad's sister decides to have his party at a restaurant called Marrakesh. As you may be able to tell by the name, it is a Moroccan restaurant and there was a promise of belly dancing on the invitation. So we drive to the location and its not exatly in the best neighborhood. In fact, the restaurant does not even have any windows. Plus, the name of the restaurant is written in Arabic or Farsi or Sandskrit on the outside without a hint of English.

We were supposed to get there by 5 o'clock as they would not seat anyone after 5:20. We got there around 5 and wanted to valet the car (as promised on the invite). The valet guy says that he can't take the car until 5:30. Ok. So, get there by 5, no seating after 5:20, but we won't take your car until 5:30. Seeing the brilliance of this flawless logic, we just found a spot on the street and hoped the car wouldn't be stolen.

When we walked to the restaurant, we could see about 20 yards ahead of us was my gay uncle (not the one whose birthday it was and not that there's anything wrong with that). He was rocking the leather pants and floral shirt. One of his tamer outfits. We finally got to the outside of the restaurant and they made us wait outside until our reservation (which was apparently at 5:30). Then I saw my aunt (who wears a wig for some reason [she's not religious]) and the birthday boy uncle. He was wearing his own fez, ready for the festivities. Apparently, he also just graduated from paralegal school on Friday, though I'm not sure what career he had before this and why he's switching at age 60. He also has those googley eyes where you're not really sure where to look when you talk to him. Nowhere to be found was my cousin (my only first cousin) who is adopted, 6'7", and in a halfway house right now. [Weird enough for you? Just wait.]

So my girlfriend, sister, and I are all getting introduced to the people we don't know or haven't seen for a while and my dad starts introducing us as his three children (I'm not married, engaged, or related to my girlfriend so its obviously an uncomfortable situation for everyone involved, mostly me). One relative calls him on it and says, "I thought you only had 2 kids" and he had to explain himself. I got the usual barrage of questions from everyone about what kind of law I want to practice, which I always find amusing since I don't want to be a "lawyer." After about 15 minutes of talking to my gay uncle about the latest Broadway shows and restaurants he went to in NY, they finally decided to let us in the restaurant.

We walk into the place and the lobby area is a small room with incense burning and pictures of famous people who ate there. The lobby is reserved for the pictures of the presidents. Both Bushes and Clinton as I remember. Then they lead us past the main dining room through hallways covered with pictures of famous people from actors to rock stars to politicians into the back where we are in a party room.

The party room looked like it was part of Epcot center. There was a stage in the middle for the belly dancers, a bar on the right, and lots of little tables surrounded by cushions to sit on. Did I mention the place had no windows? They explained that we would have to eat with our hands and share the communal dishes. So they start by bringing out a pitcher of water and a bowl to wash your hands with. They then hand you a towel, which will serve as your napkin for the rest of the night. But I digress. Back to the relatives.

There was one relative who was your typical fat obnoxious American. She's the reason other countries (especially France) hate us so much. On a funny side note, her husband did not say a word the entire night. I think he's just given up. So we're at our little tables and she leans over to me and yells, "WHEN ARE YOU GETTING MARRIED?" I'm not sure if she was knowingly busting my balls or recklessly spewing whatever bile came to her mind at the moment, but everyone at the table sort of leaned in to hear the answer. Since there really is no good answer to that question, I diffused the situation by saying, "we'll see." I promptly turned back to the other side and took a big swig of Moroccan beer.

Later on in the meal that same woman (presumably after a few too many glasses of wine) yelled out to me again, "HEY! DIDN'T YOU USED TO BE FAT?" Again, very uncomfortable silence around the table that I let linger in the air like a stale fart for a second or two before coming back with, "I'm still fat." It was meant as a conversation ender/slight barb at her since she looks like a vienna sausage. But I think my material was too smart for the room (which isn't really that hard to do). She then returns serve with, "NO NO NO. WHEN YOU WERE 4 OR 5 YOU WERE A REAL CHUNKO!" My more immediate relatives then start denying that I was ever fat at all, which is clearly not true. It just wasn't when I was 5. It took my parents more than 5 years to fuck me up. She finally shuts up and we go back to the meal.

After a few courses of Moroccan food, the belly dancer came out. Our table was on the way to the stage and she danced with a few audience members on the way there. Then she gets to our table and starts gyrating around my gay uncle. He did not even acknowledge her presence and made it quite clear the everyone in the room that he wasn't interested at all. High comedy.

After about 2 and a half hours of this, I told everyone I had to leave to go to a graduation reception (which I did) and my girlfriend, sister, and I excused ourselves (but not before getting an uncomfortably long hug from my Aunt). After that meal, I was glad that we were in such a bad neighborhood because I needed some crack to forget about what just happened.

That was exhausting. Maybe I'll go over Sunday in a later post.

Saturday, May 21, 2005


2 Miller Lites and a Vodka Sprite, please. Yes, for those of you who don't recognize him, this is Joe Schmo 2. He is a bartender at TJ McMutty's in Adams Morgan and we went to that bar tonight. Nothing like a good reality tv star that you can still boss around. Gotta love it. Posted by Hello

Friday, May 20, 2005


I have discovered over the course of the past week that staying at home and looking for jobs on the internet does not exactly inspire me creatively. Thus, there has been a lack of posting frequency. Hopefully I'll get a job eventually and have something more to write about. As for now, here are some ramblings.

-- Why do people who go to Ivy League schools never say the name of their school when you ask them? Its gotten to the point where if someone says; "I went to school in Boston" or "in Conecticut" I know that they went to Harvard or Yale. Come on, you know you're proud of your college. Don't be afraid to say it. We, the drunken State school idiots won't be offended.

-- Is there anything more useless than those metaphors where people say (for example), "If you laid out all the Twizzlers we made in a year, it would circle the Earth 12 times." Nobody can comprehend how big that is. It means absolutely nothing different to anyone if it would circle the Earth once or 1 million times. Frankly, you lose me if its longer than from Washington to Baltimore.

--The sex scene in Team America: World Police is well worth the price of admission. Bar none, the best marionette sex I've ever seen in my life.

--I'm not sure if I really like the new Diet Coke with Splenda, but I keep buying it anyway.

--I think comedians should not be able to do impressions of William Shatner and Bill Cosby anymore. It just becomes an impression of Kevin Pollack and Eddie Murphy doing their impressions.

--I realized one of the reasons I hated Sex and the City so much. The whole computer typing voiceover thing they did all the time was just a rip off of Doogie howser, MD.

--I have no idea why there is a new counter above my original counter.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

By 5:30, the line was all the way down the block. Notice the news vans on the left. Posted by Hello

Looks somewhat harmless from the back... Posted by Hello

I can't imagine what that suit smells like. Posted by Hello

Princess Leia really let herself go. Posted by Hello

These nerds are watching one of the other Star Wars movies. Posted by Hello

The newest nerd accessory: the "portable" hard drive, complete with keyboard! Posted by Hello

Aaaaaaaaaaaaa! Posted by Hello

Here is a laptop nerd Posted by Hello

Episode III: Revenge of the Nerds

A new Star Wars release brings out two kinds of people: 1) the steadfast nerds who even though they clearly bought their tickets on fandango.com, feel the need to wait in line for hours to get the best seats and 2) the brave souls who love to make fun of them. I am the latter. My mission this morning was to venture to the Uptown Theater in Cleveland Park to check out the nerds in line for the 12:00 showing of Star Wars: Episode III and document them.

At about 11 am, I walked over to Cleveland Park to see what was going on outside the theater. I already heard on tv that there was a line, so I knew I would not be wasting my time. Plus, I could grab a bacon, egg, and cheese at Whatsa Bagel.

I got to the theater about 15 minutes later, not sure what to expect. Unfortunately, the line was not nearly as long as I expected, but it was still pretty good. There were probably about 30 people there already and definitely more on the way. I mean, the show starts at midnight. What self-respecting nerd wouldn't skip work (or crawl out of mom's basement) to stand in line for 13 hours?

As you can see by the pictures, there were quite the collection of fans there. Nobody was in costume yet, but I have faith that if I go back later (and I probably will) there will be some full-fledged light saber battles going on. I also noticed that some of the nerds brought their tvs (probably to watch the other Star Wars movies) and Trivial Pursuit (the Star Wars edition) to pass the time.

There was not much else to report at this early hour. You can pretty much see everything that was going on in the pictures. I'll go back there around 5 to see how the line has progressed. I wish I could get a "Boba Fett is Gay" shirt to piss them off, but I don't have the time to do that. Until later...

The famous Uptown Theater Posted by Hello

Star Wars! Posted by Hello

The line Posted by Hello

They brought their own signage Posted by Hello

Some was homemade Posted by Hello

Some of the world's oldest virgins Posted by Hello

Chewey! Posted by Hello

It was all too much for this nerd Posted by Hello

Saturday, May 14, 2005

A belated weekend post

I originally began this post last week, but I could not finish it due to studying for exams. I actually did spend a lot of time studying, despite what my grades may reflect. Here's last weekend:

Last night was one of the more memorable nights out that I've had in a long time. It began at the house of some kids we knew in high school. They aren't still kids, mind you. That would be weird. But I call them that because they were three years younger than us and will actually always be three years younger than us. The house was shall I say not in the best part of DC. It actually was in the best part of DC (Northwest), but in the worst part of the best part. In other words, its close to Howard Universtity. Despite having close access to the Metro and a Five Guys nearby, I still wouldn't want to live there.

The house is your typical post-college guys house. Filthy, beer everywhere, and a great stereo system. Then there was the bonus: a beer pong table. Well, it wasn't so much a beer pong table as much as it was a large sheet of plywood that was used as a beer pong table. Great move. Great move number 2: kegerator. Whoever invented the kegerator is a genius. Apparently, these guys were not quite genuises (something I have really known since high school. Between 2 of them and me, we amassed 28 semesters of gym in high school) as they fucked up the kegerator hookup and caused the beer to flow slower than your grandmother's stool (that was uncalled for, sorry).

So we're playing beer pong and the team that was winning (two of the guys who live there) went outside for a smoke break. They come back inside and tell the funniest story I have heard in a while. Some black guy was running past their house and one of the guys looked at him and said, "What's up?" The guy looks back and says, "Just another high negro running through" and kept on going. Ahh, Chocolate City.

We went outside and were about to get into a cab when we noticed that you could see into the basement apartment, where one of the guys from high school was hooking up with the girl that lives down there. They were going at it for a good 5 minutes before she actually noticed one of the 7 people looking at them. We didn't even get to see any boob. Oh well.

We then went to Lucky Bar. Yes, that of "Hot Nuts" fame. There were actually a lot more hot girls there than there usually are. Then, out of nowhere a major blast from the past. I saw a guy I went to elementary school with, who I haven't seen since 3rd grade. The guy is built like a brick shithouse and spent the majority of the night alternating between calling people on his cell phone, trying to get us to go to Camelot (the worst strip club in the history of life), and telling us how much he loves asian girls.

By the end of the night I just wanted to get out of there unscathed. We headed out to get cabs and the night was nicely capped off by a sighting of the really hot indian girl from my law school.

Friday, May 13, 2005

Foregone Conclusion

Well, the Wiz blew it last night all but ensuring a sweep and second round exit from the playoffs. Here are some things I noticed:

-Even with Shaq out of the lineup for the Heat, the Wiz still played defense like a bad rec team, allowing Wade to score at will. Hell, even Udonis Haslem looked good.

-Do you think that Udonis Haslem's mother wanted his name to be pronounced like Adonis, but was too stupid to spell it correctly?

-Why do the papers insist on using Heat as a singular noun. For example: "The Heat scorches the Wizards." The term Heat refers to the team, thus it is a plural noun. You would not say "The Wizards is not playing defense" (unless you were the sports writer for the Ebonics Morning Herald).

-Do you realize that the Heat have the top 3 draft picks from the 1992 draft? Shaq, Mourning, and Laettner. All they need are Jimmy Jackson and LaPhonso Ellis to round out the top 5.

-Michael Ruffin's head is simply huge.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

Still available on nfl.com, the 2005 Wizzinator jersey! Posted by Hello

Part II

I never understood why the Vikings didn't start Mewelde Moore for more games last year, but I have this theory: Mike Tice is an idiot. Evidence: Check out this story about Onterrio Smith. Maybe he and Tice smoked pot and played with prosthetic peni together.


Sorry for the lack of posts lately. I had exams. Now that I'm officially unemployed again, I should have significantly more time for posting. For now, I'm doing my Mt. Kilamanjaro-sized pile of laundry and cleaning the apartment. Both of which have been neglected for well over a month. Stay tuned.

Saturday, May 07, 2005

Congratulations, here's your shit sandwich

Congratulations to the Washington Wizards, who won their first playoff series since 1982. That's right, 1982. I was 5 freaking years old. So this is really the first time that I remember a playoff series win. And they did it by beating the worst team to ever have home court advantage in the playoffs.

The Bulls team that they fielded was pretty awful in the pantheon of NBA playoff teams. If they put that team on the floor every night and didn't start Chandler and Gordon all year, they probably would be in the lottery right now. And the Wiz barely beat them each night. Why? They probably played defense for about 15 minutes of the whole series. Thats 15 minutes of real time, not game time. The Wizards are definitely the worst defensive team to ever win a playoff series. But I'm happy for them anyway. Apparently, Gheorghe Muresan was happy too. I think I saw him in the tunnel at the end of last night's game. I mean, what other team can boast as having a 7 and a half foot movie star at their games?

So what do the Wiz kids get as their reward for winning? A trip to Miami to get swept by the Heat. As if we weren't going to have enough problems with big men, we get to not have Kwame Brown's 6 fouls against Shaq. I hope we activate Ramos, if only for his fouls. Oh, and did I mention that we are going to have a pissed off Shaq playing against us?

Yes, the MVP went to Steve Nash. Shaq could have gotten it and he's got to be pissed that he lost out to a Canadian white boy on a much more talented team. Remember when Olajuwon lost the MVP to Robinson and proceeded to absolutely destroy him in the playoffs. Imagine Shaq having that same attitude of showing the voters they made a mistake, only instead of playing against a top 50 guy in his prime, he gets Brendan Haywood, Etan Thomas, and Michael Ruffin to push around. Shaq might score 50 points a night against this team that can't play defense anyway. As Bubba Sparxx once said, Its going to get ugly.

I also just found out that the announcement that Nash won MVP will come at halftime of the Wiz/Heat game on sunday in Miami. Are you kidding me? The Wiz get one day between games, in which they have to fly to Miami for an afternoon game, then Shaq gets extra motivation at halftime. I can almost hear David Stern calling Dick Bavetta to ref right now. This game is going to be a blow out. Now I'm intrigued. I'm obviously not a betting man because I have no idea how to check the odds on tomorrow's game. I wish I could bet $1000 on the Heat.

Well, I can't be too mad because I have never seen my team make it this far and maybe they will steal game 3. But if I were a betting man, I'd put the mortgage on Shaq to have the best series of his life. Even Mourning will probably destroy everyone (and they all have functioning kidneys!) Great job, Wiz. You did what you were supposed to do. Now next year, you need to play some defense and maybe we'll go somewhere.

Friday, May 06, 2005

The opposite of an oral exam

Law school exams are usually meant to test how well you can spot issues in fact patterns and construct various, thought-provoking, legally-sound arguments to support your position. While this is pretty annoying and a general waste of time, it at least tests your knowledge of the subject matter (some might say all it tests is your ability to write well in a limited period of time).

Unfortunately, during most exams you not only have to cram all of the legal information into your head, but the professors are always making some stupid formatting issues that you have to work around. Thus begins: the Anal exam.
Law students (for the most part) are the most obsessive-compulsive, anal bunch you have ever seen. I have often wondered if law school makes them that way or people who are already that way are naturally drawn to the law. Regardless, they are usually some of the most annoying people to be around in the world. Multiply that by 10 and you have exam time.

Professors can be anal as well. After all most of them went to Harvard or Yale or somewhere like that so they are the nerdiest of the nerds; the analiest of the anal (I have no idea if I just used that semi colon correctly and I don't care). During exams, as if you don't have to worry about enough, some professors will tell you certain margins, or fonts, or page limits that you must use for your paper. Most of the time these are normal, but then you will always have the strange request, like the one I got today: 14 point font, 1 inch margins on every side, and 12 page limit. What the Quiznos? I'm glad its such a short length for a 48 hour exam, but I admit I had to break out my calculator to figure out how long each section should be. Oh, and when I turn it in it has to be in a manilla envelope. Who has manilla envelopes?

So after dilly-dallying (Dilly dally? Chilly chally. Is the Princess Bride gay?) most of the day, I have 11 pages on crap that I really didn't read all semester. I'll fill it out to 12 by the end of the day and hope for the best. After today, I'll be one exam away from never setting foot in the crap hole again!

Link of the day

I'm in the middle of taking an exam right now, but here's a link to keep you satisfied.

Thursday, May 05, 2005

Happy Cinco de Mayo! Posted by Hello

Job search between exams

I took my tax exam last night and even though the premise behind all of the questions was the Washington Nationals, it did not make the exam any more enjoyable. In fact, I think it distracted me more than anything. I'm pretty sure I'll pass, mostly because I was wearing my lucky drawers and they haven't let me down yet. To clarify, these lucky drawers are lucky test taking drawers, not lucky sexual drawers (or even lucky job-getting drawers), of which I have none.

I sent out a few more feelers for jobs today (aka: unsolicited emails and resumes to companies). I'm not expecting much in return. I think of all the places I have applied (77), maybe 10 have actually emailed me back (and 8 of those have been to say no). I'm still trying to live the dream and go to a sports agency (preferably NFL), so I'm scraping the bottom of the barrell. I applied to one place that doesn't even have any clients yet. I'm sure they could use my skills in whatever it is they do without any clients.

This brings me to the old story about idiots sending shoes to potential employers (trying to "get their foot in the door."). Eveyone in every HR department across the country seems to say this is the dumbest, corniest thing they have ever heard of. Well, I have a great idea that would really impress people. I'd send my own severed foot in an igloo cooler and actually get my foot in the door. Then they would have to hire me. Of course, it is risky because you can only pull it off twice, but I guess you could start sending other severed body parts if the first two didn't work out. But really, what employer is not going to at least call you back after you send them a severed foot? And who doesn't love amputees?

Still, there are certain standards I have for jobs. I'm willing to move, but I'm not going to move to Texas, Utah, Ohio, or Illinois. If I'm going to sever my foot, it better at least be sunny where I'm going because I can't imagine what kind of smells eminate from a rained-on wheelchair (or prosthetic foot for that matter). I know Texas is probably sunny most of the time, but I don't consider it to be part of the US. If I'm going to move out of the country, its not going to be to Texas. I'll tell you that much right now.


I got my Sports Law grade back already. The outcome: A-. Why the minus? I don't know either. Every semester at least 2 professors will dock me half a grade (A to A- or B+ to B, for example) for no apparent reason. It must be something about the aura I give off (the unemployable aura). I have no idea why this happens, but it always does. I'm fully expecting a B in Real Estate Planning even though my group will probably get an A- or B+. How do I know this? I rocked my parts of the paper and definitely brought in points that none of the other groups thought of. Therefore, since I think I did well, I'll get screwed and my 2 professor grade docking theory will hold up.

I worked out a formula to give myself .3 grade points in 2 classes per semester and that comes out to a .24 total raise in my GPA (I did this on my phone calculator, so don't expect it to be accurate at all). While that might not boost me up to Magna Cum Laude (he he... cum), it would make my GPA real respectible-like. Good thing I don't give a shite, so the joke's on you professors! All I'm trying to do at this point is pass and get the fuck out of here.


Has the world really come to this?

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Eggs ala Catheter

In my ongiong war against my body, I have been forced to come up with new and interesting takes on what some might call an unhealthy diet. My favorite dish that I have created so far is something I think I invented. I'll call it eggs ala catheter. The only downside of this dish is that it takes a fair amount of time to prepare and might give you the Acapulco splatters.

First, you hard boil as many eggs as you would like. I only eat the egg whites in this dish, so that must be accounted for in preparation. 6 is a decent sized portion of whites. I'm not sure what it would taste like with the yolks, but I'm guessing not too good. So hard boil those fuckers.

Second, after you have deshelled them and taken the yolks out, spray some Pam in a frying pan and put the eggs in there. Fry them until they have a nice golden brown color (or whatever you want).

Third, adorn the eggs with whatever condiment you like. I usually go with Sirachi sauce (a spicy Thai sauce). This makes the meal hurt so good.


Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Worst #1 Pick Ever

As if they could afford to spare the extra bodies in the post, the Wizards decided to suspend Kwame Brown for the rest of the playoffs essentially for being a pussy. You can read about it here: Link. It seems that Brown was not even in the building last night due to "sickness." Keep in mind that this is a home game and he could have showed up in street clothes and sat on the bench or in the locker room or even in Abe Pollin's (the real-life Mr. Burns) luxury box. But no, Kwame is the biggest pussy the NBA has ever seen. I'm glad Coach Jordan suspended him for the rest of the playoffs (read: 3 more games for the Wiz).

Unfortunately, this all but seals the deal ensuring Kwame will not be on the team next year and thus, was a complete waste of a draft pick. First he does not make a significant impact his rookie year. Fine. I wish we had drafted Pau Gasol, but we can wait. Brown has...potential. Then he cries about how MJ and Collins yell at him during practice. Ok, maybe they were too hard on him. Jordan was washed up and Collins had no idea what was going on. Now he still does not contribute much and thats only when he's not injured. Unbelievable. He can't even come to the arena when he's not playing? Bullshit. Even JPR (that's John Peter Ramos, owner of the first 7 foot Puerto Rican cornrow mullet) shows up to the games.

I have no doubt that Kwame will catch on somewhere else next year (if he decides not to retire) and finally break out. Its what happens to all of Washington's players. We either get them when they are too young to know how to play or too old and washed up to care anymore. This team was supposed to be different. We have a core of young guys that could really do something next year (if we get some inside defensive presence). Now we have to trade Kwame Brown at 50 cents on the dollar (and it was a canadian dollar to begin with) and watch him actually start to care for a different team next year. Such is the life of a Wizards fan.

Hey Kwame, don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out of DC. And don't forget to bring your case of Vagisil with you, punk.

Tuesday Treat

I am in the middle of exams right now. Actually, I haven't started taking them yet, so I'm technically not in the middle. Its more like I'm about to take exams. At least I have been studying (sort of) over the past couple of days. What is the point of all of this? One of my exams is a 48 hour take home (for a 2 credit class, this is unheard of. the professor must think nobody actually paid attention or did reading the whole semester). Originally, the exam date was yesterday at 9 am. When I got to school today, the idea popped into my head that maybe it was due 48 hours from Monday at 9am. This sent me into quite the panicked rush to the registrar's office. I'm sure I could complete this exam within the allotted time left, but I didn't really want to do it yet. Plus, I still have to study for my Federal Personal Income Tax law class tomorrow(I definitely only wrote the full title of that class to impress people who think all I take are dumb classes like media law and aerobics). Anyway, it turns out that I can pick up the exam whenever I want. Point: Catheter Man.

A quick update. This treat is from www.barelylegalblog.blogspot.com (I know. Great name, right?) I think it sums up law school pretty well.

People You Meet During Exams #2: The Braggart

The polar opposite of The Possum is The Braggart. Obviously, this is the person (usually a guy) who has the unyielding desire to inform everybody of his extensive exam preperations. The Braggart is painfully ignorant of any sort of efficiency theory, choosing to substitute quantity over quality when it comes to studying. Nothing vexes the Braggart more than those who choose to spend even one waking moment during exam time on anything other than studying. Unless, of course, they are bragging.

One of the most entertaining interactions you can witness is the meeting of two Braggarts on the way to the library restroom or in the computer lab. Similar to a meeting between two Bull Moose, they will figuratively butt heads in a struggle for bragging supremicy.

Braggart A: "I'm exhausted, I've been here for eight hours."

Braggart B: "Really? I've been here for ten and I'm just getting started."

Braggart A: "Well, I just finished my Tax outline. It's 60 pages long."

Braggart B: "60? Is that all? Mine is 75, and I finished a week ago. But I'm sure you'll still pass."

Braggart B has won. He is the new Alpha of the bragging nerds. Braggart A must retreat back to his cubicle to see if he can lengthen that tax outline at all.

The Braggart seethes when he finds out that someone is doing well in law school by merely using their notes and a commercial outline. "Judas," he mutters to himself as he pulls himself onto his cross of self sacrifice. Hey, Braggart, its a simple cost/benefit analysis (and don't forget who got the 30 pieces of silver at the end of the day).

Monday, May 02, 2005

Catheter Man: Simpsons Writer?

Ladies and gentlemen, I have a job. Sure, I might not be getting paid for it and nobody will even acknowledge it, but I am a writer for The Simpsons. It feels good to finally have a dream come true. Now, if I can only get some sort of monthly stipend, it would be all good.

For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, last night during the second Simpsons (the one about Bart getting fat), there was a part where Marge wanted him to try health foods. He looked at a tub of cottage cheese and said, "It looks like somebody already ate this." Some of my more astute readers might have remembered that exact line from my post of 4/20/05, entitled: "I hate white food." Therefore, I am a joke writer for The Simpsons now.

I know they probably make these scripts months in advance and record them weeks in advance, but its kind of a major coincidence that I wrote that exact joke a week before this episode aired. This is much stranger than seeing that African guy three times. I can only assume that some writer from the Simpsons found my site and is stealing material.

If there is someone at The Simpsons reading this site, please hire me. I only have about 2 more weeks until I am officially unemployed again and I'd love to get Yeardly Smith's coffee. And next time you steal a joke from me, just mention me in the show or something. Then I could die in peace.


Big ups to Family Guy for a great comeback episode. I'm glad they warned me about the animated nudity, so I could properly prepare (take off my pants). I loved the intro when Peter listed all the shows Fox put on Sunday nights in between this episode and the last one. Some of those shows were great (like Undeclared and Andy Richter Controls the Universe). Some were just horrible (like The Pitts). Fuck it, I have it on Tivo, I'll list them out for you: Dark Angel, Titus, Undeclared, Action, That 80's Show, Wonder Falls, Fast Lane, Andy Richter Controls the Universe, Skin, Girls Club, Cracking Up, The Pitts, Firefly, Get Real, Freakylinks, Wanda at Large, Costello, The Lone Gunman, A Minute with Stan Hooper, Normal Ohio, Pasadena, Harsh Realm, King Eddie, The Street, American Embassy, Cedric the Entertainer, The Tick, Louie, and Greg the Bunny.

On the other end of the spectrum, American Dad is still not there yet. I just don't like it. I hope it doesn't become the King of the Hill to Family Guy's Beavis and Butthead. That would be a tragedy. Honestly, is there any logical explanation why King of the Hill has been on as long as it has? A non-funny comedy hasn't made this long of a run since Arli$$ (ZING!).