Back in the saddle again

Well, since we last spoke, I left my job at the "Queer Eye" and took a new one at the "Straight Guy." Bear in mind, its still technically temp work, but at least I'm getting paid a decent wage this time. Makes a man feel good. Like feeling up a passed out chick in the back of a taxi on the way home from a bar.

I'm not feeling too creative right now, given my crazy hours, but I'm sure I'll have some good stories to tell when I get around to it.

C-Man's ode to technology

You'd think by 2006 we would be at a point in history where every article on the internets that contained an ampersand didn't end up looking like (for example): Baskin *22%##&AMpp4782-34??><+)= Robbins.

Here we go again

Well, the Wizards have done it again. Here's what they needed in order to advance past the first round of the playoffs next year: a power forward or center who plays d and rebounds and (if possible) is not a complete offensive liability, a true point guard, and some scoring off the bench. What did they get? A couple of Russian shooters. If either one of these guys can make the team and play a little next year, I'm not sure that they can bring anything to the table that Jared Jeffries doesn't already have (and lack).

Skinny 6'11" shooters will not help this team in the short run. While its possible that one or both will magically morph into Nowitzki, Kirilenko, or Stojakavic, it probably won't happen (it ever) for a number of years. When Marcus Williams slid in the first round, we should have snatched him up right there. I don't care if he's got character issues. Show me one team without several flawed players. The guy can play.

Instead, we got a friend for Alexander Ovechkin. I'm not saying Pecherov is bad. Honestly, I've never seen the guy play, but if every other European player can be a measuring stick for this pick, he can probably shoot but he doesn't play defense or rebound all that well for his height. I'm guessing he ain't gonna block too many shots either. In terms of what we needed, that's batting 1 for 4. That doesn't cut it on a first rounder.

In the second round, I really wanted Paul Millsap. He's a guy who could have come in and competed for major playing time right away on this team with our horrible power forwards. But, alas, he was taken one spot ahead of us by the Jazz, who get an A+ in the second round by getting Millsap and Dee Brown back to back. The next logical choice for us would have been Gansey, a solid point guard from WV or his teammate, Kevin Pittsnogle. Either one of those guys could have come in with the second unit and logged some decent minutes while not killing us by not scoring. Instead, we got another friend for Alexander Ovechkin. Essentially the same player as we got in the first round, but not as good.

With Chicago, New Jersey, Orlando, and Cleveland all getting better through the draft, we may need to make a splash in the free agent market in order to even make the playoffs. Hell, if the Bobcats have an amazing year, they could even pass us up. Luckily, we'll still be able to beat up on the Hawks and Knicks for another year.

When you sum up what we needed, what was available, and who we got, I have to give the Wizards a solid D- for this draft. I'm hoping that we'll stow away these guys in Europe for a year or two, bring in JC Navarro from Spain, and maybe get a second-tier free agent who plays some friggin' defense. I have to trust that Ernie Grunfeld knows what he's doing because he did, after all, draft Michael Redd in the second round a few years ago [Please stop mentioning that in every article Washington Post. Please.] But you'll have to forgive me, as someone who has suffered for so many years at the hands of Les Boulez.

2006 NBA Draft Day Spectacular

Welcome to the 2006 NBA Draft. I just realized that I watched about 4 solid games of NBA action (it's FAAAAAAAANtastic!) last season, so I'm not really feeling the draft this year. Plus, it is a pretty crappy draft. So I'll just post a few comments as I think of them. Hopefully they'll be entertaining.

--How has David Stern not had a heart attack yet? As Felch would say, "It blows my mind."

--When the top pick is an Italian named Andrea, you know its a weak draft.

--Do you think the Italians paid off the Raptors to take Andrea, much like they have clearly paid off the refs in the World Cup?

--Where do black people come up with these fake French names? LaMarcus? Come on.

--Adam Morrison is clearly the front runner for Moustache of the Year next season.

--I would much rather have a white guy with diabetes than a white guy with a back problem. Because that back problem is NEVER going away.

--This draft is flying along. Kudos to the brass at the NBA. Now if we could get the first round of the playoffs to be less than a month, we'd be getting somewhere.

--Where are the crazy suits? I'm thoroughly disappointed in these guys. We need someone to break the ice and just go big with a purple pinstripe double breasted number next year.

--I spoke too soon. Tyrus Thomas went with the purple sweater under the pinstripe suit. Pretty close.

--Stu Scott just mentioned the WNBA. Why does that still exist? I'm conviced David Stern is laundering money through that league or something.

-- Shelden Williams is a lock for NBA Smush Face of the Year next season.

--Jay Bilas just projected the 5th pick in the draft as a Dale Davis type. Not a good sign for the talent this year.

-- I'm already bored. I'm just waiting for the Wizards pick. Now that we have Ernie Grunfeld, we might not screw it up. I'll see you next year, when there's some talent available.

Waterworld

Sorry about the lack of posting lately. For those who may care about such things, I am not currently under water. Suprisingly, DC freaked out about the weather for good reason this time, although it wasn't that bad. For me at least. And that's all that matters, isn't it?

Tomorrow, I'll have my NBA Draft Spectacular. I promise.

Vegas, baby.

Tomorrow I'm off to fabulous Las Vegas for one of the most heterosexual rites of passage known to modern man: the Vegas bachelor party. Sure, I'm as broke as JJ Evans, but its well worth cashing in some Bar Mitzvah bonds to take this much needed break from DC.

Today reminded me of just how much I need to see some silicone-filled mammaries while throwing back warm shots of Cuervo. As I escaped from my overly-gay temping gig for lunch, I walked towards overly-gay Dupont Circle. Normally, this would have been an uneventful journey. But I apparently looked especially good in my khakis in the sweltering heat. I have no explanation for what followed.

Some dude rode by me on his bike. The guy looked like an effeminate, well-groomed latino who is possibly gay. In other words: Alex Rodriguez. He sort of stared at me and I tried to diffuse the situation by giving him the old head nod. Official male speak for: I acknowledge your presence, now move on. As I continued walking, I stared straight ahead as if my life depended on it. No dice. The guy was still riding next to me. This was not good.

A few seconds into this uncomfortable situation, it got worse. He started talking to me and I couldn't play it off like I either didn't hear him or know he was talking to me. The conversation went something like this:

A-Rod: "Do ju go to school aroun here?"

Me: "No."

A-Rod: "Ju look yoost like dees guy who I do sculpture with." [Leering at my body. Literally looking me up and down.]

Me: "Sorry, not me."

A-Rod: "Ju look yoost like him. Ju have to be theen, but not too theen. Ju do sculpture." [Still looking me up and down.]

Me: [Uncomfortably horrified silence]

A-Rod: "So what do ju say? Would ju like to do something like thees?"

Me: "No thanks." [Practically running away at this point]

With that, he luckily dropped the subject or possibly realized I'm not gay, and rode off. Even though all I wanted to do was take a shower, I persevered and got my Julia's Empanadas like a real man.

Tomorrow night I will be making up for all the heterosexuality I've been deprived of over the last 6 months. I'm not sure what that means, but there will definitely be a lot of high fives involved. By the time I get back, I need to have extra heterosexuality in reserves because this job is starting to drive me crazy.

For the love of Pete, someone help me get out of there!

Memorial Day

For those who haven't taken the time to remember why we celebrate today's holiday, remember why W created 2400+ more reasons.

Dag!

I'm conducting an experiment. I want to bring back "Dag!" Use it as a substitute for "damn" or "shit." Here's an example: say someone is late. "Dag! What took you so long?" Feel free to use it as much or as little as you would like. I just want to see it come back.

Onto the real post.

McDonald's has new desserts! Well, they're not really new, as much as they are just various combinations of their old desserts. The four new faces on the menu are: the Oreo sundae, the chocolate chip (cookie) sundae, the apple pie sundae, and the brownie sundae. Each consists of ice cream, the eponymous "solid" dessert item, hot fudge, whipped cream, and a cherry on top. Upon seeing this turn of events, I had to try one.

Girlfriend and I went to the notorious Adams Morgan Mickey D's and took our chances. For those who are in the know, Sipowicz was not working tonight. But that did not change my extremely low expectations about the quality of "service" there. I went in and ordered an Oreo McFlurry (for Girlfriend) and a Chocolate Chip Sundae without whipped cream for myself. I knew it was a bad omen when I had to point at the picture menu to explain my choice.

The girl who took my order told the manager about the choices and he showed her how to make the new dessert first. It started out fine with the cup, ice cream, and hot fudge, but then things took a turn for the expected. He went over to the crushed Oreos and put that on the sundae, then covered the top with whipped cream and a cherry. Of course, I knew this was "my" order and he was fucking it up, but I let him go all the way with it.

He proudly presented me with this bastardization of my order and I broke the bad news: "I wanted the CHOCOLATE CHIP sundae with NO WHIPPED CREAM." He gave me the stupid grin to show that he didn't understand and I resorted to broken english and picture pointing again. "The cookies (pointing to the picture). No whipped cream. That sundae (pointing again)... and an Oreo MCFLURRY" He finally got the idea.

He put the first sundae in the salad refrigerator. I'm not sure why and I don't want to know. Then he went to the back, got some cookies, put them in a cup, and added the ice cream and the hot fudge. Just when I thought things were going well, HE MADE THE MOVE FOR THE WHIPPED CREAM AGAIN! In my firmest tone, I said, "NO WHIPPED CREAM!" This time he finally took heed.

The truth is, I didn't want the cherry either, but I knew that would really throw him off and it would be easy enough to remove, so once he dropped it on the top, I happily accepted the sundae because it was as close to what I wanted as it was going to get. I then had to remind him about the McFlurry again and he actually made it correctly. After waaaaaaaaay too long in there, I had gotten what I came for.

The verdict: the Chocolate Chip Sundae is pretty damn good. The cookies were warm and gooey and you can't screw up the rest of the ingredients because they are all pre-made. I give it a solid 7 out of 10 Catheters. But it was not worth all of the aggravation of getting it. Either way, the same thing would probably cost $10 at Baskin Robbins, so you're going in up $7.50. If you have the patience of a saint, I recommend it.

The Road to Rhode Island

This past weekend, I went to a wedding in the glorious state of Rhode Island. For those of you scoring at home, that's state #29 for Catheter Man. I could try and write a full post about the weekend, but I'm feeling too lazy to do it justice, so I'll just give you some highlights. Here are some of the best and worst things about the trip.

1) The flight to Providence: surprisingly only one hour long. That was the cool part. The bad part was eating breakfast at National Airport (I refuse to call it Reagan) and experiencing a bacon, egg, and cheese on a soggy plain bagel at... wait for it...Jerry's. Still, it was a better choice than Girlfriend's breakfast burrito from Ranch 1.

One other part of the flight that ruled was Row 4. Don't ever discount how awesome the bulkhead seats are. I even snuck my finger into first class for a little while. What didn't rule was the turbulence. I don't care about the bumpiness. I cared that the flight attendant decided it was too bumpy to use the drink cart and only offered water, coffee, or orange juice during drink service. Seeing as I was denied my right to a Diet Coke, I went with OJ. I knew it was a bad choice when it had ice in it.

2) Newport: Newport is a very cool, New Englandy town. I should mention that as a Family Guy fan, I made sure that the first words out of my mouth when we landed in Rhode Island were: "Side Boob." There is nothing as cool (in a funny way) as the Rhode Island accent. We overheard one woman talking about how her "Cawkapoo runs acrawss the yahd."

Newport is like any typical seaside port town, if you were surrounded by 300 year old buildings and everyone vacationing there looked like Judge Smails. There were tons of what I have dubbed: Sailboat People. Now add places like the New England Quahog Company, Griswold's, and my college buddy and I saying "Side Boob" every five minutes and you have some idea of what the weekend was like.

3) The Rehearsal Dinner. The rehearsal dinner was great. It was at a mansion (I think) right next to the water. It had a very cool tiki bar inside and the banquet room had an amazing water view. Being that this was a wedding weekend, I took the opportunity to stuff myself silly. At the rehearsal dinner, I had a cookie, a brownie, and a slice of apple pie. And that was just dessert.

Another thing I love about rehearsal dinners are the slide shows (with musical accompaniment) featuring embarrassing photos of the bride and grooms awkward teenage years. Those alone are usually worth the price of admission. Most of the speeches were great, too. I'm reasonably sure that the 18 speeches (I'm not exaggerating) from this wedding will never be topped. That being said, if you are the type of couple that has 18 speeches about you at your wedding, you must be doing something right.

4) The Wedding: The best part about Jewish wedding ceremonies is that they are usually pretty short. Not that I (or anyone else) wouldn't love to share the couple's big moment, but I think everyone (including the couple) appreciates the brevity. After a great ceremony, highlighted by beautifully self-written vows by the bride and groom, it was time to get our party on.

I stuffed my gullet again (including two desserts) and drank enough to kill a small child. But I didn't really get drunk. Maybe it was all the dancing or perhaps the 950,000 calories I consumed that day, but I didn't even get buzzed. Not that it mattered. It was a fun party and I got to hang out with a lot of people from college who I may never see again.

After the party, it was the afterparty. Unfortunately by this time, I was exhausted. I made my way over to the Presidential Suite, where the bride and bridegroom were staying and I could not believe how big the joint was. It was at least the size of a full length basketball court, and that didn't even include the bedroom or the roof deck that you could access through a rickety spiral staircase.

As much as I wanted to continue the festivities, the two days of gluttony and drinking had taken their toll and I had to go to bed about 10 minutes after getting to the room. Apparently I missed 10 pizzas being ordered and consumed, singing and subsequently being kicked off the roofdeck by security, and general rabblerousing until 4 am.

All in all, it was a great weekend and nothing feels better than getting out of DC for a while. I wish the couple nothing but happiness in the future and thank them for a wonderful time.

And of course...

Side boob.

Separated at Birth?

Zach Roloff from Little People Big World and



Butthead

Catheter Man's 5 Point Plan for Summer Blockbusters

I love the movies. Let me just get that out of the way. I wish there was something I wanted to see every week so I could slip into a padded seat, immerse myself in darkness, and fart away. I will not, however, go to the movies for the sake of going to the movies. That is to say that I have standards. Rules, if you will (and I know that you will). Never has there been a more apropos time to bequeath these rules to the masses. The old studio system has resigned to sit back on its laurels and churn out big budget drivel that idiot America laps up with a spoon. Well not this blogger. You'll have to do more than that to earn my ten bucks. So without further ado, I give you Catheter Man's 5 Point Plan for Summer Blockbusters.

1) I will not see any movie based on a comic book

This rule comes to us courtesy of every movie released after Batman 1. That movie was cool. Of course, I (along with America) was also in my Michael Keaton phase at the time, so my judgment could have been a little off. But somehow in the course of the Batman series, we went from Jack Nicholson to Danny DeVito to Jim Carrey and from Michael Keaton to Val Kilmer to George Clooney. As you can tell, they are barely even trying anymore.

I'm also sure that there have probably been good movies based on comic books that have come out since then (Men in Black), but they are few and far between. Men in Black is the perfect segue to our next rule...

2) I will not see any sequels, prequels, threequels, or any other kind of 'quel

If anyone else saw Men in Black 2, you know just how horrible an idea a sequel can be. That movie felt like an hour and a half long abortion performed through my eye socket (I bet you won't find Roger Ebert giving that review). All of the Star Wars prequels were excrement. The only movie that could be considered a sequel that I actually enjoyed was Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back and that was not really a sequel. It was more loosely based on some of Kevin Smith's earlier works. Of course, as we speak, Clerks 2 is coming out. Blech. In this day and age, sequels rarely, if ever, live up to the original and I will not see them.

3) I will not see any remake

This one should go without saying. I didn't want to see King Kong when it was black and white and had a claymation ape. I didn't want to see it the first time they remade it and the special effects were a little better. And I still don't want to see it when everything is done with computers.

Am I the only one who thinks that CGI ruins movies? Part of the reason why the original Star Wars was so cool is that they had real (albeit model-sized) spaceships blowing up. When I can tell everything has been done on a computer, the special effect doesn't seem so special to me. I might as well be watching cartoons. But I digress.

Remakes are lame. Most of the time the original is a classic and there is no point in trying to make it better. And if the movie wasn't that great to begin with, why would anyone want to see it now that it stars Vince Vaughn? I don't get it.

4) Explosions, car chases, and shootouts are stupid

Seriously. We've all seen these things a million times before. Its called every James Bond movie ever. Unless you bring something original to the table, like a pregnant dwarf driving a '39 Buick with a Yeti and all of the characters from Herman's Head in the back seat, shooting a laser guided hamster bazooka at the Guinness Book of World Records fat twins on scooters, then spare me.

5) I will not see any movie starring anyone who is currently on the cover of Us Weekly

Again, this should go without saying. The people that are on the cover of those magazines are not good actors. They are the "beautiful people." And if Revenge of the Nerds taught us anything, its that the beautiful people can be defeated. The first step is boycotting their crappy movies. I'm reasonably confident that anyone with half a nutsack can't name one Jennifer Aniston movie besides Office Space.

So there you have it. Sure, this plan can't hold a candle to Mike Damone's 5 point plan, but it is guaranteed to get you through the summer without wishing you had used your 10 dollars for a toothy hummer from a crackhead rather than mindlessly forking it over to the movie studios or the "Church" of Scientology. I'm not sure if that last statement even made any sense grammatically, but you get the idea. Until next time, America.

Praise you like I should

As my loyal readers know, I have been "at odds" with god for the majority of my life. I'm not sure why this is. It just is. One recent example is my inability to find suitable employment. Although I consider myself a pretty good person in general, things just haven't been going my way of late. It is high time for a mediator.

This past weekend, I found the perfect chance to do just that. I attended a Catholic wedding and seeing that I was in the house of god, I decided to ask his son for a little help. Some of you might find this odd, since I'm jewish. But as Larry David found out, wonderful things start to happen when you find Jesus.

I didn't really expect much after I had my little chat with JC, but this past week I have gotten five legitimate job bites (and one super shady offer to possibly join the Russian mob). Two or three of them sound pretty good. I'm not going to jinx any of them by speaking publicly about the specifics, but I'm pretty confident with my skills and Jesus' help, I could be employed full time within a month. So wish me luck on my quest.

Yours in Christ,

Catheter Man

Park's closed. Moose out front shoulda told ya.

It is with deep regret that I must inform my loyal readers that there will be no Catheter Man NFL Draft Day Spectacular this year. I will be attending a wedding in the upstate region this weekend and will be unable to devote any time to a quality post. Hopefully I will be able to return to my duties next year. Here's to hoping the Colts get Maroney (for my keeper league team's sake) and the Skins don't screw up their pick in the 2nd round. Until next time, folks.

Who's your goalie?

I randomly thought about this a few days ago and I thought it was interesting. Maybe you will too.

I have been a casual NHL fan for the majority of my life. There was a time when the Caps made the playoffs every year. Some of my earliest memories of the Capitals were losing to the Penguins in the playoffs year after year. Don't even talk to me about the time we were ahead 3-0 in a best of 7 and lost the series. Heartbreaking.

Of course, there was also the time when the Caps were the 6 seed and somehow made the Stanley Cup finals. I was actually able to go to game 3. Although we lost, I did get to see one of the best fan fights of all time. Let's just put it this way: a woman was thrown two rows toward the ice. I guess that's what happens when you mix old school mulleted Caps fans with proud Detroiters.

Anyway, the point of this post is that the Goalie position has been remarkably stable for the Caps over the last 25 or so years. I guess they have been unbelievably lucky or skilled at picking goalies because it has been one long tenure after the other. Here is a list of the major goalies that I remember on the Caps.

Bob Mason -- This was the first goalie I remember seeing live. I don't remember much else from those early Caps games, other than Keith Sweat always seemingly being the next big concert at the Cap Centre.

Pete Peeters -- One of the greats, not only because of his double name, weird spelling of "Peeters", and stellar goal play, but also for wearing number 1 as a goalie. Not something you see too often.

Clint Malarchuk -- Who can forget the severed jugular? One of the most disturbing moments ever seen on a hockey rink.

Mike Liut -- He had about one good year in DC. I think he's actually a successful hockey agent now.

Don Beaupre -- This was the beginning of the new era caps. Beaupre was damn good (but not great) for about 5 years.

Jim Carey -- Fortunately (or unfortunately) his rise to stardom coincided with the heyday of Jim Carrey (Ace Ventura) and the introduction of live video into hockey games. We were cursed with a million clips from The Mask. Sssssssssssssssssssssssssmmmmmmmmmmmmokinnnnnnnnnnn'!

Olaf Kolzig -- If feel kind of bad for Olie. He's been here for about 10 years and given everything to this team. He was the guy that caught fire in 98 and got us to the Cup. Now, he's surrounded by inferior talent, Ovechkin and Halpern. The guy deserves to be traded somewhere good next year.

So that's really it. My whole life = 7 goalies. I'm not sure if you find that strange or a little unbelievable, but I just thought I'd mention it.

The Italian BMT

One of the worst things about working where I do is that there are very few affordable lunch options. The U street area is famous for Ben's Chili Bowl, which is great, but if I want to maintain my girlish figure, I can't eat there more than once a month. There are also a bunch of semi-nice places that I can't really go to because they are semi-expensive and will take a long time to serve me. Ah, the joys of being an hourly "employee." So that limits my options to McDonald's, Quizno's, and Subway.

McDonald's is rarely an option because 1) it could be the dirtiest McDonald's in America, 2) I don't really want to eat that crap more than I have to (Monopoly time), and 3) my idea of ambiance doesn't include a homeless person sitting next to me. Quizno's is ok, but its kind of expensive for what you get, although I do enjoy the pepper bar and horseradish sauce. This limits my choice to Subway.

Now, I don't really like Subway. Everything went downhill ever since they stopped the "U" style cutting of their bread and went to the straight across method. The only things I actually enjoy are the free refills and the fresh baked cookies. Since Subway is really the only option, I have to make the best of it.

The least offensive sandwich to me is the Italian BMT. This includes pepperoni, salami, and ham. Once I add cheese, it passes my test of being the most unkosher meal I can order. But I always had one question about the BMT. What the fuck does BMT stand for? Due to the fact that 99% of the people working for Subway are foreign, I could never ask. But today that all changed.

I ordered my usual 6 inch Italian BMT combo with chocolate chip cookies in lieu of chips and I was stunned to see a white face looking back at me from behind the counter. I took this opportunity to ask the only sandwich artist who could speak fluent English my question for the ages. What does BMT stand for? The guy, who must have just returned from management training answered me immediately: "Brooklyn Manhattan Transfer." What this has to do with a pork sandwich, I'll never know, but one of life's mysteries is hereby solved.

"Tis the Season

This week is probably the second biggest dual-religion holiday week to December's Hannukmas season. And since Chanuka (how the fuck do you spell that shit?) is about as easy to schedule as Chinese New Year, this week in April offers a glimpse of both religions. Here is the big difference between Judaism and Christianity (A Catheter Man comparitive religion special):

Christians are able to take the death of Jesus and create a fun holiday, filled with candy, chocolate, painted eggs, and cartoon bunnies.

Jews take a presumably happy moment of escaping from slavery in Egypt and turn it into a week of not being able to eat bread. Who are the ad wizards that came up with that one?

Is it me?

Last night after a old-fashioned early pregame, J-man, Ike, and I went out to one of our favorite drinking establishments. It turned out to be quite an interesting night. First, when we entered the bar, there were a few cops inside. This was pretty unusual. Then we saw the reason they were there: to arrest a guy for being black on a Saturday night. Uncomfortable for everyone involved.

After drinking for a little while, things devolved into our new favorite pastime: Who is your black celebrity equivalent? Its a simple game, really. All you have to do is come up with each person's black celebrity equivalent. See, its not just a clever name. Anyway, it was decided that mine is Shawn Wayans. I'm not really sure what that means, but it could be much worse. We agreed that our friend Schewey is Rog from What's Happening.

Once we left the bar, things got a little weirder. First, we saw a guy get thrown out of a different bar. That's not so strange, as our friend G man has been known to get "escorted" out of a bar in a full nelson from time to time. What was weird was that this guy had so much momentum coming out of the bar that he literally flew across the sidewalk and landed on his ass in the street. Okaaaaaaay.

Then we went to get some empanadas. Because nothing puts a cap on a night of drinking like hot meat. The guy serving the empanadas had a tattoo of a cross on his freaking forehead. Thats gotta hurt. Plus, it probably limits your job prospects to either professional boxer, gang member, or empanada server. Its good to see this guy took the right route.

All in all, an odd night.

This one goes out to my boys from Iowa City

You must come back home.

Bored at Work

My department has been unusually empty the last few days and it has given me a chance to think about some things. The one that stnds out in my mind is this: If my company were to field a softball team, it could be the only one in history where the women re better than the men (except me, of course). Just something to think about.

The gods must be crazy

I've moved sideways/down in the world. Now I am pretty much a glorified receptionist at my (temp) job. Although I also process TPS reports and other data-entry related tasks, I also have to answer the phone and sit in the gimpy half-cubicle, where anyone can see my computer screen and/or anything else I'm doing or not doing. To put it plainly, it sucks. But I really don't have much of a choice right now, so I have to take my little moments of enjoyment when I can get them.

One such moment happened today. As I have said before, I work in what could be described as the charitable fringe of society (if I were being paid by the company and not the temp agency, I would truly be a charity case). As such, I am treated to ridiculous conversations, creepy Xerox technicians, and every once in a while, absolutely surreal sights.

As I was minding my own business at my crapicle, some woman/man, standing about 6'4", with blonde highlights at the tips of her/his shoulder length hair walked in and asked if someone's office was in our department. It was only then that I realized that he/she was missing at least one of his/her front teeth. Imagine Leon Spinks crossed with Wanda from In Living Color.It might have been the ugliest woman of all time or the most delusional pre or post-op transsexual ever. Either way, I could barely believe my eyes. What sucked was that I don't even have anyone to share my giddiness about Wanda Spinks with because I am the only "normal" person in my department. However, just as he/she was safely out of range, the hilarious guy who sits across from me leans back in his chair and says, "That's a big girl."

Don't Fuck with de Catheter

I am coming up to New York this week and Mulgrew is scared shitless. Or, to be more precise, he's so scared of the wrath of the Catheter that he's shitting blood. If you don't believe me, check out his latest post. You can find his blog in my links section, under the title: "No Talent Ass Clown."

Mulgrew, I'm in your head (and intestines).

I am a con sarn genius

I watched the first half of Sunday's Sopranos last night and was nearly blown away by my own brilliance. I really had no clue that the first part of the episode dealt with Tony's dream/altered consciousness/heaven where he is basically thinking about his new identity as Kevin Finnerty, an Arizona businessman with Altzheimer's. I am so close to being Employee of the Month.

An Uninformed Theory

I gave up the Sopranos about 5 years ago. You know, last season. The reason I did this was not because of any particular hatred for the show or the characters or even the extra money that I had to pay RCN for the privilege of getting HBO. Simply put, the show bored me. Nothing ever happened. It was like taking a girl out for a nice dinner and drinks every week and you didn't even get a half-hearted hand job at the end of the night. I had no choice but to cut the Sopranos off.

Why do I mention this? Well, since this is the last season, I have been giving the show a final chance in the hopes that it gets really good. Unfortunately, since my allegiance is to Family Guy, I end up missing the first half of the show every week. And forget about trying to catch a repeat of the show or even Tivoing it. That's just too much effort. All of this is just a round about preface to the point of this post.

I have a theory!

Now, as you probably know, I am not qualified to do anything, much less offer conjecture on a show I haven't watched for years and which I've only seen half of each episode this season, but bear with me. My theory is about how the Sopranos is going to end. And if I get this right, you all must crown me "Employee of the Month" and send me $12.50.

Ok, so Tony will wake up from his coma (assuming he's in a coma -- remember I've only seen half of each one) and he will have amnesia. There might be some sort of big trial against either Uncle Junior or Tony in which it will become clear that neither of them are playing with a full deck. Junior gets off and/or eventually dies and Tony goes back home while the rest of the gang try and figure out who the new boss is. The crew decides that Tony really is out of his gourd and he seems to genuinely have amnesia. The mob, of course, goes on without him. Without a job or any recognition of his current surroundings, Tony and Carmela decide to move somewhere (I'm guessing Arizona or somewhere else warm)the final shot is Tony driving down the Jersey Turnpike, like in the opening credits with a little smile on his face. If its done correctly, nobody will know if he really had amnesia or just used the accident as a chance to get out of the game.

Sounds like a pretty good theory, right?

In a semi-related note, girlfriend always makes me watch Grey's Anatomy on Sunday nights as well. As I was watching the obviously "diverse" cast, it dawned upon me: How do all of these doctor shows manage to find the .000001% of hospitals with no Jewish doctors? Its uncanny.

Sportin' Waves

Girlfriend and I went to Target for our near-monthly supply run and I wanted to restock my supply of hair jelly. I am a big fan of Citre-Shine pomade because, as you know, I am drawn to citrusy things like Pam Anderson is drawn to disease-ridden men. Of course, Target does not carry Citre Shine for some unknown reason. In fact, they really were lacking in almost all suitably-strong pomades (save for the Crew kind and I'm not buying that out of principle because its $15).

So I was presented with a dilemma. I have no hair jelly and I need to get something so I don't look like I'm homeless at work tomorrow. I went into the realm of which we do not dare venture. The black hair products aisle. Amid the sea of relaxers and hair mayonnaises (I'm serious), I found my salvation: Sportin' Waves. It is exactly the strength of pomade I need for my stubborn widow's peak. Plus, as an added bonus, its like $2 and comes in a cool-looking tin.

In the grand tradition of white people stealing black people's ideas, I would like to announce that I have safely landed on black hair planet. Its one small step for white man. One giant leap for white man kind.

Washington Redskins: Offseason Champs Again

If Dan Snyder is good at one thing, its hype. Nothing creates loftier expectations than going out and buying up all the high profile free agents on the market. Usually, this type of move completely backfires and the team ends up watching the playoffs from the comfort of their own recliners. But without getting into that too much, the moves made by the Skins in the last few days have tipped me off to a few different things. I'll explain.

1) Letting Arrington leave: I believe Arrington is a great talent. He is as athletically gifted as they come and I will always hold a special place in my heart for the guy who ended Troy Aikman's career. I think the reason why the Skins let him go is two fold.
First, he doesn't know how to play his position. He's probably the type of guy who because of his athletic superiority at every level, could rely on his speed and instincts to compensate for being out of position a lot of the time. Due to this, he probably never bothered to learn where he needs to be on every play. And linebacker is a position where you need to know your on-field positioning so well, it should almost be second nature. After five different defensive coordinators in five years, Lavar probably stopped trying to learn.
Secondly, I think that his injury two years ago significantly effected his speed and/or lateral movement. He is no longer able to compensate for being out of position. Once the Redskins saw this, they decided that they would rather have someone else on the field. While they might not be as talented as Lavar, at least they would be in the right position. Arrington became a liability in the defense most of the time and that is the reason for the lack of playing time last season. When it became clear that he was either unwilling or unable to learn the system this year, he punched his own ticket out of town. That being said, I have no doubt that he could be a Pro Bowler again in the right system.

2) Randle el and Lloyd: The addition of two more small WRs tips the Skins hand in that they will not be taking a WR with their first (second round) pick in the draft. This is fine with me because I doubt they would be able to get a quality immediate starter at that position in the second round.
I also believe this means that the Skins will continue to use the TEs and H-backs more often in the passing game. Cooley should continue his path to becoming one of the most productive TEs in the league and Fauria will finally give the Skins another viable receiver from that position.
Admittedly, the Skins probably spent too much on Randle el, but in addition to being a decent #2 WR, he gives them the kick and punt return threat they have been missing since Brian Mitchell left and he allows them to run those gadget plays that Pittsburgh was so fond of.

3) Archuleta: I like Archuleta, but this could be a move that means Sean Taylor could be spending more time tossing salads than catching interceptions next season. That kind of scares me. On the other hand, if the Skins' safties are Archuleta and Taylor, they will be nasty against the run and no WR is going to want to go over the middle with those two tanks lurking there.

4) Carter: The Skins getting Andre Carter is like asking a starving man if he wants a McDonalds Filet-o-Fish. When compared with the rest of the menu, it might not be the best choice, but when you're starving, it probably tastes like the best thing you've ever eaten.
Anyone who knows me knows that my biggest problem with the Skins is their stubborn refusal to upgrade the defensive end position for the better part of a decade. Athough Carter didn't play all that well for SF over the past couple of years, he was also on the league's worst defense over those years.
I'm hoping the Skins got Andre Carter: the former first rounder with a new lease on life and a burning desire to prove to everyone why he was chosen in the first round of the draft. Whatever he brings to the table, it will be better than anything the Skins have had in the recent past.
This move probably also signifies that the Skins will not be taking a DE with their first pick in the draft, which pisses me off to no end. But, they also need a cornerback pretty badly, and some depth at offensive line (they had Ray Brown, a freaking senior citizen, playing last year). So there are some more pressing needs at the moment. Regardless, I'm just thankful that the Skins finally addressed their worst position of the last 15 years (even if he is a little light in the ass).

5) The Sum Total of the moves: Despite what some people may think, as well as plenty of evidence to the contrary, I believe that Dan Snyder does actually learn from his mistakes. The off season spending sprees of 2003 and 2000 netted absolutey nothing. So why would he do it again? I believe that this is Joe Gibbs' last season. Although he signed for longer, I don't think anyone expects the old man to stay on much longer. That is why the Skins were able to keep Greg Williams for another season when he could have been a head coach in any number of other places. It is also the reason the Skins now have an Assistant Head Coach -- Offense. Snyder is pulling out all the stops in one last-ditch attempt to win one for the Gibber.

The first job offer I've had in months

There was something in the air today in DC. Maybe the fact that it was about 80 degrees brought a little pep to everyone's morning. I have no idea. Regardless, as I was walking from the Metro to work this morning, I passed two workers who were presumably installing a Sub Zero refrigerator in someone's newly-remodeled kitchen. The guys looked like your typical contractor types and since one of them had some sort of tape stuck to his hand, which he was waving about, I naturally looked their way as I was walking. That lead to this exchange:

scraggly-looking contractor guy: "Hey, you want to help us?"
Me: "How much do you pay?"
Contractor: "The minimum."
Me: "No thanks."
Contractor: "You should ditch college and come work with us."(I guess I still look young enough to go to college)
Me: "That's ok." (by this point, I am a good 25 feet past them)
Contractor: "Hey!"
Me: Walking, looking ahead
Contractor: "Hey!"
Me: Turning around
Contractor: "This is what the ladies want!" (He then proceeded to pull up his dusty flannel shirt to reveal his redneck/middle-aged guy "six pack" along with various faded blue-green tattoos).
Me: Chuckling, yet briskly walking further away before he shows me anything else.


All I can say about this incident is, that contractor knows talent when he sees it. I would have hauled the shit out of that refrigerator.

Mulgrew fires back

Well, I haven't heard from Jason Mulgrew since I declared 90's style rap feud on that bama, but today I saw what I can only assume is his lame-ass attempt at retaliation. If you check here, you will see that Mr. Mulgrew is jocking my steez. His Sherman Klump ass even copied me by posting about Jury Duty. Who knows if he even went to jury duty, but sure as shit, two days after I had a post about jury duty, here comes Poppin' Fresh claiming my city, but bitch, you ain't from Compton!

Tugboat even had the audacity to call himself "Larry Awesome." If I'm not mistaken, I believe I came up with your new nickname Hollywood Montrose. Doesn't it just sing? I have another question for you. Did what's his name get at you? Who? Deeeeeeez nuuuuuuuuts!

But seriously, did you actually think you could bite my jury duty post and nobody would notice? Your Morning Zoo ass doesn't even have the skills to throw down with the shit about the priest or the Escalade, so you shouldn't have even tried. And as for that shit about coming from a family of criminals. Shit. Didn't you go to prep school, motherfucker?

Listen up, bitch. I'm coming up to New York this month and if you know what's good for you, you'll stay the fuck out of my way. And if you ever copy my shit again, you best be popping those Xanax like Krispy Kremes. Word is bond.

Jury Duty

No, this post is not about the Pauly Shore movie. It is about the great civic duty I performed today: sitting in a room downtown bored out of my skull. In other words, jury duty.

Some of you may be suprised to learn that I have managed to avoid this task for the past 10 years by constantly living in different states than where my driver's license was issued. On a side note, I also didn't vote until the last election and my vote actually wound up meaning less than if I had voted any other state in the country (not that I live in a state). For whatever reason, my luck ran out this year, when I finally was physically able to go to jury duty for the first time.

I arrived at the court house promptly at 8 am. We had to sign in and get our little Juror badges with our Juror number on it. Once that happened, I went in the appropriate waiting room and waited. At about 9 am, they showed an informational video hosted by local news anchor Renee Poussant and the Chief Judge of the Court. I couldn't help but think that if I were actually on trial (or suing someone) I would not want the jury of my peers to be people who, like me, were half asleep and not really paying attention to this video, which possibly could have been their only real instructions on how to be a juror. The highlight of the video was when they told us that the guy in the robe is the judge. What? No Randy, Paula, and Simon?

After the video, a woman told us that there were two juries that needed to be selected soon and that she'd be back to do that. She also asked if we wanted the tvs in the room on or off. Someone said on. After informing everyone that the tvs only could show the channel they had on, "not HBO or Showtime." She went into the back room and turned them on to PBS. Luckily, I had brought a book. I knew I'd be in for the long haul. What I didn't expect was that the PBS show that they had (I think it was a DVD) was Ken Burns' Baseball. So I had that going for me, which was nice.

I watched Baseball for about an hour when I wanted to go get a drink. We were allowed to go to the snack machines to get food or take a 10 minute break (which, we were informed, was not enough time to go home and come back) to go to the cafeteria. I went with the first option. The sodas were a rip off at $1.50 for a 20 ouncer, but I didn't really feel like going without, so I got a Diet Dr. Pepper because they didn't have Diet Coke (apparently the DC Court system is a Pepsi company).

While I was in the snack machine area, I witnessed something that makes me believe that god (if there is one) has just as sick a sense of humor as I do. A priest got ripped off by the Pepsi machine. Yes, there was a priest reporting for jury duty and we happened to want sodas at the same time. He put his money in the Pepsi machine and pressed whatever soda he wanted. Only then did the machine say that it was out of that product. The priest turns to me and says, "I guess they take your money and then tell you what they don't have." I muttered something and got out of there before he could spot how amused I was at his predicament.

I went back into the waiting room and watched a little more Baseball and read my book. Soon, the woman came back to read off the first list of potential jurors. For those of you not familiar with the voire dire process, they take a bigger pool of people than they actually need and the lawyers choose 12 jurors (and 4 alternates) from that list based on their answers to questions. We were also told that if we are not picked, we should not take it personally. Hilarious. Anyway, she read the first list of names and I was not on it. More waiting.

A little while later, a man came in and repeated the process. The only difference is that this guy was a classic loud-talker. He didn't even need the microphone. I was not on his list either. He actually said that he called 55 people. Was I not even going to get called today? It is the Year of the Man. I couldn't be sure, but I was feeling good about things.

At 10 am, a second group of potential jurors reported to sign-in. Why couldn't I be in the late shift? By about 11, they were all ready and they replayed the informational video. By this time the room was packed and they announced that anyone who had been there since 8 could go out and take a 10 minute break. I decided that I didn't need to see the video again, so I went outside for 10 minutes.

When I came back, my seat had been taken (just when the phlegmy guy next to me whose nose whistled when he breathed had been called for a jury). I sat down in one of the few seats in the snack machine room and did a Sudoku and crossword puzzle. I was really bored. After counting down the minutes until lunch, they let us break at 12:15. Sweet. Freedom! If only for 1 hour.

Since I needed to get away from that building for lunch, I decided against the cafeteria (even if there was a possibility of getting one of those crappy cafeteria style hamburgers. The Verizon (nee MCI) Center is really close to the courthouse, so I walked the few blocks over there and settled on California Tortilla. I don't really like California Tortilla, but it was the only place that wasn't packed to the gills.

When I was walking back to the courthouse, I witnessed the second funniest thing I saw all day. There was a fire truck pulled up to the side of the street and two other official-looking trucks with it. There were also about 10 cops standing around on the sidewalk next to the area. As far as I could tell, there was no fire in the area, so I walked right by the crowd. What I saw was classic. The fire truck had tried to pull over and misjudged the amount of space between it and a parked car. There was a brand new (with the window sticker still in it) white Escalade with its front bumper ripped halfway off, connected to the business end of the fire truck. I can only imagine what the owner of this truck must have thought when he arrived on the scene. As much as I would have love to stay for those fireworks, I had to get back.

Back in the waiting room, I got a different seat. More waiting. More Baseball (they restarted it) and more book. When the woman came back in to announce another list of people, I almost wanted to be picked out of sheer boredom. While she was reading the list, two people's cell phones went off. The woman made some crack about it and went on with her recitation. Then, after she was finished (not picked again!), a woman behind me got a cell phone call and from what I could understand from her half of the conversation was that her kid had hit his teacher. Only in DC, folks. Only in DC.

Finally, at about 2:15, they announced over the loudspeaker that all potential jurors needed to come to the waiting room for an announcement. They told us we could finally leave. So I went to the Jury ATM machine and collected my $4 transportation pay and eventually got out of there. Having accomplished my civic duty of wating in a room all day, I cannot get called for another two years.

So what did I learn today?
1) god hates priests
2) bring your own soda/video ipod/book/PSP to jury duty
3) Satchel Paige won approximately 3000 games. Josh Gibson hit approximately 900 home runs
4) Fire Truck beats Escalade
5) America should probably think twice about this whole "jury of your peers" thing.

Overheard at Work

As fritter away the hours that make up the dull day at work, I get pretty bored. This might be due. in part, to the fact that they don't really have enough work to keep my occupied for 8 full hours and the work that they do give me, I would probably be able to finish in 1/5 of the time if the database was not online and the computers weren't slower than Apple IIe's. In any event, if someone is having a conversation, I like to listen to them because everyone else who works there lives in such a different world from me. Here are some things I've heard.

"Oh my god. U Street was just flooded with lesbians on Saturday."

"I had dried lotion on my face. It looked like something else."

"I think these protein drinks I've been taking are making me weird."

"I only had to wake up to go pee pee once (last night)."

"I'm turning into a bitter, suspicious old queen."

"Its so hard to be a fag sometimes (describing decorating problems)."

"Have you been peeing on each other?"

"Maybe thats why you don't have a Valentine. You should start going commando."

"He's not gay. He's just Canadian."

"Michael Jordan and Phil Collins messed that boy up (talking about Kwame Brown)."

"I was dating a chick that left me for [redacted sports star]. From one fag to another."

"I'm a 40 year-old gay man. How do I know about girly tweens?"

"Palm Springs is like the Rehoboth of LA. All the homos go there on the weekends."

"I met someone, but my heart is with someone else.
Your heart is with Jesus?
No!
Oh well, I tried."


So, as you can see. I am slowly losing my mind at work. But at least I'm laughing all the way to the crazy house.

American Idol Recap: Not this week

Sorry gang. I don't really feel like doing this tonight and tomorrow I will be out to dinner with girlfriend, celebrating her birthday. So tough cookies.

The Don

Gone but not forgotten.

It's on (Jason Mulgrew) 187um Killa

When I started this blog, I wanted a way to get noticed by some of the people who share my sick, twisted sense of humor. It was about that time that I discovered Jason Mulgrew's blog and nearly cried as I tried to contain my laughter during my Tax Law class. As I read some of his previous posts, I knew that his sense of humor mirrored mine and so did his writing (admittedly, his is slightly funnier because I have long given up the fat guy lifestyle for one more anorexia-based).

Everything is Wrong with me was one of the first blogs I had in my links section. In fact, I think it was the only one written by someone I did not know. Then, Mr. Mulgrew decided that he wanted some free publicity for his site. He offered a deal in which my blog could be linked on his "Friends of" section if I linked to him and told 10 people about it. Well, I knew a great deal when I saw it. I did exactly that (I didn't even use any fake email addresses either). Within a couple of weeks, my little corner of the internet was listed right there amongst such heavy hitters as Opinionistas and My Blog is Poop.

Everything went swimmingly for quite some time. But then it all changed. It seems as though young Jason is gone from face to heel. Jasamania has flipped into Hollywood Mulgrew. Today, Hollywood Mulgrew unveiled a new site design. A new site design that classifies the other blogs linked therein into "Awesome," "Famous," and "Other."

Now, normally I would not care about being thrown into the "other" category like so much dirty socks, but, unlike the Awesome and Famous categories, the Other category is not even on the front page. In fact, it is on a page that you can't even get to (yet?). I'm not even sure I'm on it. And for that, I am doing something that should have been done a long time ago. I'm starting a 90's rap style feud with Jason Mulgrew. That's right fat boy, its on.

For the purposes of this feud, I will be representing the East Coast, while "Hollywood" Mulgrew has just joined the Westside crew. Since you fired the first shot in this war, I will be taking your link off my front page when my lazy ass gets around to it. You will never be one of People's 50 hottest bachelors again without my link, bitch. My 4-4 makes sure none of your readership grow!

American Idol Recap: Just 12 of the Guys

I missed yesterday's show and wanted to get right into the guys competition. I told you I'd probably not follow through every time and what better way to prove it than not showing up for the first show? On the serious tip, I was at the Wizards game watching KG basically not caring at all and still throwing up a double-double (although not as impressive as Colediggy, Solomon, and that girl from Kentucky's double-double in Mexico). I'm not even going to get into the depressing, time-wasting career fair that preceded the game. Anyway, on with the recap.

Gay Aiken -- He actually claimed that he was going to distance himself from Clay Aiken with his song choice, but started out the night extra gay, wearing a pink shirt and singing gay anthem "Come to my Window" by Melissa Etheridge(sp?)... badly. Randy mumbled a few things about pitch and dog, but seemed to kind of like it. Paula basically said he shouldn't have sung it. Simon came with the real and called him out for being average at best.

Shawn Brumder -- Let the gayness continue. Mr. Crooner sings "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" by Queen. He looked like one of those chorus or drama douchebags from high school that thinks he's the shit at singing and tries to really emote during every word of every song, even if it sounds like hot garbage. Randy called him a boo-dagged-ass bitch. Paula was probably hopped up on goofballs because she didn't hate it. Once again, Simon says whats on everyone's mind. Shawn Brumder is a joke, but the jackasses of America probably like him.

Redneck -- admits that he has trouble remembering the lyrics at times. Hmm, I wonder if he has trouble remembering to bathe? He chose "Simple Man" by Lynard Skynard because he is "a simple man." He sounded like he gargled with used football cleats and smoked 3 cigars before singing tonight. Randy basically told him it sounded like he was giving birth, but he liked it. Paula said he is "growing." Simon called him raw, yet said he is no better than me (Catheter Man) singing Thunderstruck at a bar. Every time Redneck speaks, I check to see if I'm watching COPS instead of American Idol.

Sam Weir -- He went with "I Want You Back" by the Jackson 5. In all seriousness (and Colediggy can back me up on this) I can sing this song better than he did. Randy said he liked Sam Weir for "trying to do his thing." Paula was reminded of Bobby Brady. EXACTLY. Why didn't I think of that? Simon brings it again. Kudos to him for calling Sam average. Paula then called on the Pantydroppers to scream for him and they did. Paula and Randy seem impressed that it was in tune. Simon is right. It was average. I could have done better.

Fat Joe -- He chose "Reasons" by Earth, Wind, and Fire. It sounded like Guy Hollerin singing "Sexual Healing" at a karaoke place, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Its just not his real singing voice. So, what are we supposed to jugde him on? Randy predictibly loved the Earth, Wind, and Fire song. Paula called him "amazing." Come on Simon. YES! Simon calls it a pimpy, third-rate version of the song. Thank you Simon. Why are the other judges even there?

Evil Jared -- He already wins the craziest sideburns of the year award. He chose yet another of my karaoke favorites: "Dead or Alive" by Bon Jovi. I will admit that he sang it better than me. But just barely. If I were him, I would have left in the part about the loaded six string. Thats clearly where you can really kick it vocally. Randy called him very, very current even though he just did a song from about 10 years ago. Paula is basically fingering herself. Simon liked the song and called him the first one with potential of the night. I agree totally.

Nervous Tic -- He is singing "One Last Cry" by Brian McKnight. He's actually not half bad compared with the others who have gone so far. Plus he has a lisp. Wouldn't it be great to have an American Idol with a lisp? He kind of reminds me of Radar O'Reilly. Randy liked him. Paula wishes her was her nerdy kid that was showing all the others up. Simon said he liked him, but he had the J Katz demographic (60 and above and 16 and below).

New Lenny Kravitz -- He actually looks like the black Chubbs. About 3 of my readers will get that, but I don't care. Its uncanny. he sang "Shout" by Otis Day and the Knights. Otis, my man! He's got the moves, but the vocals are average. Randy liked the song choice and the moves. Paula loved him. Simon called him the "warm up for the Chippendales." Classic. Simon must go to a lot of male strip shows.

Chinstrap Toothface -- "If You Really Love Me" by Stevie Wonder. First impression: he'll be lucky to make it past this week. He was totally drowned out by the backup singers and the band. The Pantydroppers loved him. So did Randy and Paula (big surprise). I don't get it. Maybe its his grotesquely swollen jaw that irks me. Simon calls him potentially the best male vocalist ever on the show. WHAT? It must sound really different in the audience.

I'M CAROL! -- If you haven't noticed, this guy just reminds me of that character that Horatio Sans does every few weeks on SNL. He's singing "Copacabana" by Barry Manilow. I kind of wish I had called him Dirty Sanchez because thats what his moustache looks like. His singing was forgettable. But pretty much anyone who sings Copacabana sounds alike. But he is Carol. Annoying. Randy didn't like him. Paula all but called him a joke. Simon called it a nightmare, which it was. By the end, all the judges were arguing over how "not that bad" it was. Ominous.

Constantine II -- Wow, this means Blue is closing tonight. C-II is singing "Father Figure" by George Michael to keep with the gay theme we have going tonight. He rocked it, but should have gone with the mirrored sunglasses and black leather jacket to really pull off the George Michael experience. This guy touches his hair almost as much as Mitch in Dazed and Confused. Randy called him a star. Paula's seat is wet. Simon brought it again. Not the best vocals, but C-II's got "it."

Blue -- You're my boy! He's closes out gay night with "Leave on" by Elton John. Or is it "Livan", an ode to Livan Hernandez? It was original, but weird. Not the greatest performance, but I'll take it. Randy echoed my comments. Paula can't even speak, she wants him to advance so much. Simon now thinks he should make the finals.

Thats it for tonight. Soul Patrol!

The Year of the...Man

Avid readers of this blog will no doubt remember the culmination of the Year of the Catheter a week or two ago. Since I did not win any of the quarters of the Superbowl box pool (I had a 1 in 10 chance), I believed that my luck had dried up and the year of good fortune was over. That was until Saturday night.

Yes, folks. I joined the millions of idiots who donate to the stupid tax. I gave my six dollars for three chances to win 365 million dollars (a perfect amount for "fuck you" money, as Sir Charles Barkley would say). This was not the first time I have attempted to defy the odds. A few months ago, the jackpot was over 200 million and I actually made a chart of the most likely numbers, based on the last 100 drawings. Needless to say, it didn't work.

But this time, I just randomly chose numbers while trying to avoid touching the crackheads who were in line with me. I got my ticket Friday and basically forgot about the whole thing until sometime Sunday morning. When I woke up, I checked my numbers and lo and behold...I got the powerball. Luckily (or unluckily) I got (only) one more of the other numbers, so I ended up winning $4 and netting $-2. Either way, I am proclaiming it a win for Catheter Man.

Furthermore, I am also proclaiming that since the Year of the Catheter is over, it is now the Year of the Man. I will be having even better luck this year, beginning with my big Powerball win and continuing as I get a job tomorrow at a career fair where I don't even know what companies will attend. I'm going to rock their faces off.

My Inexplicable and Unfounded Aversion

I just realized something today. Its not something I usually spend much time thinking about. Its probably not something anyone usually thinks about. But I realized as I was canceling my Discover (Platinum!) Card that I have an inexplicable and unfounded aversion to Master Card. I have no idea why.

Credit card preferences, I imagine, are much like political affiliation in the south. You just do what your parents did. No questions asked. Growing up, my parents always used Visa. I don't know why. Those were the halcyon years of wine and roses when the card actually looked like the little logo in the corner of your current card. Those were the golden days, when my father sent back his hot and sour soup at the chinese place because it was too cold. When the waiter asked what he wanted, he said it should be hotter. The waiter returned with a spicier, still luke warm soup. My father tried to explain that he wanted the temperature hotter, not the spice. The waiter took back the soup and returned with yet a spicier concoction. This happened once more before my father was left with a room temperature bowl of liquid fire, good enough to scald the Alpha Beta's nether regions. But I digress.

Those were the years even before the hologram. But the credit card went through more changes. Next came the era of the "new" cards. My mother got a Discover card because of the cash back system (I'm convinced after having one for about 6 years that you get less than 1% of your money back). Then came the time of the specialty cards, an era which allowed countless parents to get hundreds of thousands of airline miles by paying for their children's tuition bills via airline credit cards. Yet, for those of us without a steady (or any) income, the credit card was not in our arsenal.

In college, I always had the "emergency" credit card. A card that I was supposed to use only when the situation was so dire, that I could not pay in cash. Although my name was on it, it drew from my parents' account. I think the only times I actually used that card were to get more money on my meal card freshman year (remember the M-Card tard?) and when I broke Colediggy, the Gimp, and my collective double bubble, ice-holder bong sophomore year. Before they even noticed, I went out and bought a new, admittedly less cool version (they didn't have the same one we had) for our enjoyment. When my mother questioned the $60 charge from Stairway to Heaven, I said it was a music store where I bought a couple of cds and some posters for my room. I'm not sure if she believed me.

When I got out of college, I was officially off the payroll, which is why instead of living in a nice, doorman building in Manhattan, I lived in an old Italian couple's basement in Lyndhurst, New Jersey (if they weren't so old, it would have been like living in the Soprano's basement). It was at that time that I decided that I needed a credit card. Once I saw that Visa allowed me to get a card with the Redskins logo on it, I was smitten. I became a loyal Visa customer. I even got their scam insurance in case I was ever unemployed (because my first job fucked with my head so much).

But the thing I always feel when choosing or even seeing credit cards is that I would never, ever, EVER have a Master Card. I have no idea why. I even think Master Card and Visa are the same company, but I would still never own one. In fact, I don't think I've ever even seen one used before. I've had Visa, the aforementioned Discover, and the newly-acquired Delta Skymiles AmEx, but I would never choose a Master Card.

So these are my questions to my readers (if I actually have any). Do you have a Master Card? Do you have an inexplicable and unfounded aversion to Master Card? Have you ever seen someone use one? Does the company even exist? Can you find me a full-time, lucrative job?

Wednesgay

Something at work must be rubbing off on me. Its probably either in the hand soap, the sodas from the machine, or the boxes of Man 2 Man lube in the basement. Whatever the reason, I have become at least 32% gay on Wednesdays. Why? I not only watch American Idol, but also Project Runway.

I have decided that I will be posting my takes on the American Idol shows for the rest of the season. Bear in mind, if I actually get around to doing this every week, I'll be shocked. On the other hand, I did look at the strawberry flavored dental dams at work, so anything is possible.

Here is my list of nicknames for the 24 contestants who made it to the audience participation portion of the show. I'll probably forget who's who by next week, so I reserve the right to change people's nicknames whenever I want.

The Guys:
Constantine II
I'm Carol!
Shawn Brumder
Fat Joe
Chinstrap Toothface
New Lenny Kravitz
Evil Jared
Redneck
Gay Aiken
Nervous Tic
(You're my boy) Blue
Sam Weir

The Girls:
Rachel Ray
Mandingo
Mel M.
Aisha
Black Sweder Optional
Clown Face
Girl Next Door
O'Dreamy
8 Mile Barbie
Theory of Relativity
Red State Randi
The girl too boring for a nickname

Granted, some of the names aren't that great, but they are the best I could do on short notice. Thats why I will probably be changing some of them in the coming weeks. So I hope you like them and if you actually get most of them, then god help you. Because you're almost as fucked up as me.

Olympics? More like O-Stink-ics.

You know what really grinds my gears? The non-sport sports at the Olypmics. Specifically: figure skating, gymnastics, and diving. Repeat after me: THESE ARE NOT SPORTS. They might be competitions, but they are not sports. These are not sports because the winner is not determined by the one with the most points or goals or lowest time. They final standings are determined by judges. Any time a "fragile" french judge can influence the outcome of the game, it is not a sport. I realize that boxing also falls into the same category, but it has the possibility of becoming a sport if one of the boxers knocks the other out. I also realize that the above named competitions require skill and training and hard work, but I'm just saying if I want to see a bunch of asians in spandex, I'll go to Cirque du Soleil.

The Year of the Catheter is over

Yes, gang, its true. Its true. Last year at this time, I was coming off a nice second quarter win in my Superbowl boxes pool, which officially began a self-appointed year of good luck for Catheter Man. This year, I went into the Superbowl hoping that the lucky streak would continue, but fearing its swift demise. What happened makes me believe that I might be back to my heretofore unlucky ways this year.

This year, I got 10 boxes because they were only one dollar and I wanted to have a healthy slew of numbers to hope for. I designated one of my boxes the "lucky" one and named it Popozao in honor of Kevin Federline's instant classic. When we pulled the numbers, that one wasn't very lucky, but I did end up with some good ones. One of the best was 7-0 Seahawks.

Well, if you watched the game, you know what happened. As the first quarter wound down, Matt Hasselbeck threw a perfect touchdown pass to Darrell Jackson, only to have it called back by a questionable offensive pass interference call. Away went the seven point score, and with it, the potential two year run for Catheter Man.

The rest of the game didn't really yield any chances for me. The second quarter ended up being pretty crappy for both the Mike Holmgren school of clock management and my numbers. However, girlfriend did win this quarter. So it could be the Year of the Girlfriend. The third and fourth quarters were won by the people who (seemingly, at least) win every year: The J Man and Kid Ike. They are like the Vijay Singh and Tiger Woods of box pools.

The rest of the Superbowl was pretty forgettable. The teams played worse than our rec league team after one of our "all night drinking parties." The commercials were weak (thanks FCC). And the halftime "entertainment" was adequate at best. The funniest thing was that supposedly the Rolling Stones caused a minor controversy (I didn't really watch them) with two lyrics that the censors bleeped out. Next year I think the network might dig up Richie Valens, Buddy Holly, and the Big Bopper so they can have a halftime show that is both 30 years past relevance and guaranteed not to have anything controversial happen.

So until proven otherwise, I will assume that The Year of the Catheter has not been renewed for a second season. This is pretty troubling because I not only still have to find a permanent job, I also have at least one (possibly two) trips to Vegas coming up. I'm going to need all the luck I can get for both of those scenarios. Maybe I should start eating Lucky Charms.

Whatever happened to predictability?

What a way to begin the day! My girlfriend turned on Good Goyim America this morning and as I returned from the shower, I was greeted with none other than Jodie "Stephanie Tanner" Sweetin doing an interview with Robin Roberts. It turns out that our favorite middle child has been battling a Crystal Meth addiction for some time. That puts her #1 in the rankings for Most Fucked Up Child Star from Full House. In case you were wondering, here is the official tote board:

1) Jodie Sweetin -- Crystal Meth Addiction
2) Candace Cameron -- Jesus Freak/Married to a Russian Hockey Player
3) Mary Kate Olsen -- Anorexia (suspected Coke head)
4) Ashley Olsen -- Will not return my phone calls
Tie 5,6) Those little freaks that played Alex and Nicky -- Possibly dead.
7) Kimmie Gibler -- Well adjusted member of society
8) Dwayne -- Whatever

Not in those words...Official Blog of The Super Bowl

You know what really grinds my gears? All these ads having to use "the big game" instead of the Super Bowl. It is so dumb that Best Buy has to say "It will be delivered in time for the big game" rather than say what we all know they mean -- Superbowl Sunday. NFL people listen to me. Nobody thinks there is any endorsement, implied or otherwise, if a company uses the words "Super Bowl" in their ads. Stop being so stupid, assfaces.

Back to you, Tom.

Back on the Chain Gang (temporarily)

Editor's Note:
The following was taken from my daily thoughts while filing "TPS reports" for the office where I am currently day laboring (temping).

I can already feel it. After less than a week on the job, the loathing and politics characteristic of so many a workplace have already revealed themselves, as if by osmosis. Do all the same stock characters come with every office? Is there some catalog where misery can be carefully selected by invoice number? Isn't office dysfunction the real reason I fled my last job like corporate greedsanity is a communicable disease? When you're in the shit, you're in full battle mode. 100 yard stare. Fight or flight. All that. Since I'm not really financially or emotionally vested in this place, I can see the score.

There is dissention in the ranks here. Corporate politics have reared their ugly head, even in a company set up to do so much good for the world. Evil is a powerful motherfucker. I can sense that there are major problems with the divisions between the classes that interfere with and perhaps completely handicap this organization's ability to function cohesively and accomplish all it can.

Looking up from the bottom of the lower class (the workers), I can see that my department is pretty efficient at what it does. After three days here, I feel as though I could handle any job in the place. Most of my platoon is content with what they are doing and handle their responsibilities quite well.

Enter management. A woman whom I've never dared to look directly at, for fear that the beast will somehow emit from her soul like tentacles and crush my will to live. In what has become my expectation of all managers, she, rather than running the department using common sense, logic, business acumen, and courteousness, lives in the typical Manager's Bubble, and has created a situation in which the staff not only dislikes her, but does not respect her either.

The manager's signature moves are standard. Calling a meeting for 1:00 and then sending someone down to say she needs another 15 minutes, before finally gracing the department with her presence at 1:45. This move, whether intentional or not (although the more often it occurs, the more intentional it seems), shows a complete lack of common courtesy and professionalism at the very least. At most, it is a passive-aggressive power play to somehow show that "my time is important and yours is not."

Another, more advanced move is undermining not only a subordinate's confidence and ability to perform their duties, but also any chance of them gaining valuable skills that could one day prove useful and allow them to get promoted. Rather than trusting the staff currently in place to handle an assignment they have already been spearheading and would like to continue with, the Manager has decided that "no, no, that would be giving you some power and I want it all to myself." The Manager is trying to bring in a consultant to perform the duties that are in the job description of a current staff member.

But I can't blame the Manager, as she is only a cog in the system. "I was only following orders" has become the American corporate mantra. The system is broken and if Manager wasn't there to fill that role someone else would be.

The company's culture didn't seem all that suspect until I (along with everyone else in the office) received an email that proved all jobs are the same. Since the internet connection is excruciatingly slow sometimes, rather than pony up the money to get a faster connection (however that can be done), the company decided that people were spending too much time doing personal things on the internet, such as shopping, looking for housing, and (gasp!) checking their personal email accounts.

I understand that people are there to work, not play on the internet, but there is a point at which the normal person can use his discretion. Everyone knows if he or she is spending too much time not working. Most people choose not to cross that line. But sometimes, management finds it necessary to end those little conveniences that make office life more pleasant. At my old job, they went so far as to start blocking websites that they deemed "inappropriate" without even informing anyone of the criteria. Luckily, I don't think the IT department at this company is that proficient.

But you know me. I can't complain.

In all actuality, I am almost living the dream right now. I have my own desk, computer, phone, and even a cubicle...with a window! I work normal hours. I don't have a long commute. I'm not treated like crap. I like the people I work with. I'm making ok money. And I'm doing something for the betterment of society. Aside from Neil Weisman moving in two days early, the only problem is that its all going to end quite soon.

When it does end, I'll tell you about some of the more funny things about the place.

The final anniversary of Roe v. Wade

Today marks the 33rd anniversary of the Supreme Court's landmark decision in Roe v. Wade. In my estimation it will be the last time (or at least close to the last time) that the decision will stand. Unfortunately for any women in the "red" states, you will probably no longer be able to decide what happens in your own body. Even if having the baby is a threat to your own life.

The course of events that will lead up to the impending overruling of this decision were set into motion when George W. was re-elected. Ironically, Bin Laden just came out with a new mix tape to prove what a terrible President this jackass has been [remember Wanted: Dead or Alive? that was about 4.5 years ago]. Anyway, aside from his corruption, cronyism, awful foreign and domestic policies, the most dangerous thing this president has done is stock the Supreme Court with two more ultra conservative justices.

The thing about the presidency is that it will end. In 2008, there will be someone else at the helm of our ship (god help us if its Cunnilingus Rice or Hillary Clinton) and while W's terms have pretty much been a train wreck, most of what he's done can be fixed by the next president. Furthermore, since a president can't make or interpret the laws of the country, he can't really force all Americans to become born again Christians (for example [as I'm sure he'd like to do {if he actually is a born again and that wasn't just made up for political gain}]). The most potentially lasting and dangerous thing a president can do is appoint a Supreme Court Justice and unfortunately for those of use who believe in things like evolution and the separation of church and state, W has gotten to appoint two.

When the founding fathers of this country envisioned the Supreme Court, they believed that the Justices should not be encumbered by having to run for the office. The idea is that judges should not make decisions based on what is popular or politically advantageous to themselves. They should make their decisions based on the law and the evidence before them. What the founding fathers did not foresee is that due to the lifetime tenure of the Supreme Court Justice, a party in power can appoint idealogues or party shills to the post, rather than the best or most qualified judge in the land.

But, as a Constitutional scholar, I know that the president is under no obligation to appoint the best or most qualified judge in the land. A Supreme Court Justice does not have to be a judge at all. They don't even need to be lawyers. Bush could have appointed Brownie from the Hurricane Katrina disaster and America probably would have had to sit by and watch him get confirmed. This is why the nominations and subsequent confirmations of Roberts and Alito are so troubling.

Just last week, we got a taste of what the foreseeable future will hold under the Roberts Court. The Court blocked the Bush administration's attempt to punish Doctors in Oregon who help terminally ill patients die (Jesus said you have to suffer, silly!). The holding of the Court is not surprising, but what is telling are the justices who dissented in this ruling. I bet you could have guessed that they were Scalia, Thomas, and Roberts. When Alito gets confirmed, the religious right will have an automatic 4 Justice block of votes ready to rule for them. This is the tragedy of the George W. Bush presidency. And that, my friends, is saying a lot.

So this brings me back to Roe v. Wade. Ladies, get your abortions now, because all the Court will need to overturn that decision is one more vote (since you already know how Scalia, Roberts, Thomas, and Alito are voting) out of the remaining 5 Justices. And abortion is just the decision we know they want to overturn. Who knows what other decisions this voting block will make? But as the confirmation of Alito draws nearer and nearer, America takes one step further away from its democratic roots and one step closer to becoming a corporate theocracy.

You heard it here first

Being a straight male, I really don't get the obsession with Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. I mean, who cares? Really.

But I think I have stumbled onto something. Something big. Seeing as Jolie is pregnant with Pitt's demonic seed, and she is probably about 3 months pregnant (according to some hastily done internet research), I have a theory.

The baby is the Antichrist. Think about it. Look for the birth of the devil child on June 6th of this year. In other words... 6/6/06.

Oh Lord Lucifer Pitt-Jolie, I am your humble servant.

A note to Mayor Nagin

I'd keep your desire to establish new New Orleans as a "Chocolate" city on the d.l. Take it from a DC resident, if your city becomes any more chocolatey, you're likely to lose your congressional representation.

Top 10 Family Guy Characters

I haven't done a Top 10 list in a while and I thought this one would be apropos. Family Guy is the funniest show on TV and since a show is only as good as its characters, I will now give you my top 10 favorites.


10) Jasper

Jasper is Brian's gay cousin who lives in LA and works at Club Med.

9) Death

First voiced by Norm McDonald and then Adam Carolla, death is usually a pretty funny guest star on the show.

8) Brian

Brian is a martini-drinking, Prius-driving dog who is often the only voice of sanity in the Griffin household.


7) Mort Goldman

Voiced by the famous Johnny Brennan of the Jerky Boys, Mort has a distinct similarity to Sol Goldberg. Mort is also pretty much afraid of everything.

6) Tom Tucker's upside down head son

He's usually not that funny, but the whole concept of being born with an upside down head is just hilarious to me.

5) Peter Griffin

If Homer Simpson was always at his dumbest, most offensive, and without conscience, you would get Peter Griffin.


4) Stewie Griffin

Stewie is best described as an evil, crotchety old man trapped in a baby's body. We're not really sure if anyone can understand him when he speaks (except Brian usually) or if he's gay.

3) Glenn Quagmire

Quahog's resident pervert, Quagmire is always good for innuendo and general sexual hilarity.

2) Herbert, the pedophile

Perhaps the creepiest character in TV history, Herbert has an unhealthy obsession with Chris Griffin. In one of Family Guy's funniest moments, Herbert sings "Somewhere that's green" from Little Shop of Horrors and imagines his perfect life with Chris.

1) Greased up naked deaf guy

A casualty of the demise of Happy Go Lucky Toy Company, we learn that he was a former lawyer, whose life has been ruined by cocaine.

Done and done

Gregg Williams deserves every penny of the $8 million dollar deal he got a couple of weeks ago. Not until this week did a team totally expose the Redskins defense for what it is: a very good defense with a well below average front four. Williams was able to hide the collection of castoffs and second stringers with blitzes and stunts for the last two months, but Seattle showed the world why a team can't neglect a glaring need such as a pass rushing defensive end for 10 years. Matt Hasselback couldn't have had more time to throw the ball today. All the Redskins could muster was a pass rush about as effective as a typical game of "500."

The Skins simply must use their first draft pick on a defensive end. Of course, the Redskins were forced to waste their first round draft pick this year in order to move up and draft a quarterback who may never start in DC. So we're looking at the end of the second round, a territory where most of the stars like Kiwianuka (or however you spell it) will be long gone. Unfortunately, the Redskins also desperately need a second wide receiver. Preferably one who is taller than I am. So we could go that way with our first pick. And if history is any indication, we'll look at every other position than the one we need most: defensive end.

Even though I don't think the Redskins are good, I can't help but be disappointed in the effort shown in Seattle. When Shaun Alexander left the game, the score was 0-0. It might have been the best thing that could have happened for the Seahawks because Hasselback decided to throw the ball about 80% of the time from then on. With absolutely zero pass rush, he was able to connect with his receivers at will. Even with three turnovers by Seattle, the Skins could not take the lead because Seattle had no problem moving the ball. Without the NFL MVP.

This simply cannot continue to happen every year. Gibbs' teams in the 80's had Mann and Manley. These Redskins don't even have a guy who could hold Dexter Manley's coke vial. Either draft or sign a LEGITIMATE defensive end this season or we will not be a good team. And if we can make it to the second round of the playoffs with as flawed a team as we fielded this year, imagine what would happen if we had a pass rush.

Marion Barry is back on the white horse

DC's former crackhead Mayor is at it again.

Sure, we gambled and had poutine, but...

Why the F didn't I know about this when I was in college?

I wish I was Samoan

I bet if I was Samoan, I'd have a job by now (or at least some kick-ass tattoos).

The Vomit Comet

If there is one thing that's always funny, its farting. But if there is one other thing that is always funny, its vomit. You may not believe me, but I really don't watch that much tv during the day when I'm "looking for jobs." However, I do watch a lot of tv at night. What does this have to do with vomit? Well, in the past couple of days, I saw perhaps two of the most disturbing/disgusting/hilarious vomit television moments in history.

Moment #1

The show is called Intervention. Every week, they have two separate stories about addicts and then their families stage an intervention at the end of the show. Usually it is some crackhead or alcoholic, but this week one of the stories was about a bulemic. I can't really do it justice, but imagine this scenario. Bulemic and her fat husband go to an all you can eat pizza place, where they proceed to stuff their faces. Bulemic races home in order to get there before her husband so she can "call the dinosaurs." What she does next is genuinely unbelievable.

Bulemic goes into her walk in closet and pukes her entire meal into a one gallon zip lock bag. But wait, there's more. She then hides the bag behind her clothes. Why does she do this? She explains that she is afraid that the toilet will get backed up and she'll be found out. But wait, there's more. She waits a week before cleaning out the closet. The next time we see her, she's filling up a cardboard box with a week's worth of puke-filled, one gallon bags. She then takes this box to an open dumpster, where she disposes of the evidence.

I know what you're thinking. Now that's good tv!

Moment #2

I watched an old Viva La Bam, in which Dunn bets Bam that he can beat Bam in a car race. Dunn then calls in the reinforcements. The Bloodhound Gang shows up and steals Bam's Lamborghini. Dunn soups up a limo for the race, complete with nitrous. Bam eventually finds the Lambo and wins the race. Dunn claims that the engine blew, but I think it had to do with the fact that Don Vito was in the back of the limo, eating a 3 foot hoagie.

Anyway, as punishment for losing, Dunn was supposed to kiss Raab Himself at the bar they were hanging out at. Dunn said he wouldn't so that, so Bam told him he had to make him either laugh or puke in order to pay up on the bet. Dunn then gets some nasty ass woman to come over and suck on Don Vito's disgusting yellow toenail. Well, this was too much for Bam, who pukes right on Don Vito's foot. Jimmy Pop from the Bloodhound Gang follows suit. The show ends with a close up of Vito's nasty foot covered in puke.

Now, who wants dinner?