9.4.07

Welcome…

I’m going to go ahead and assume that the vast majority of you signing on have read my overzealous opinions before…but if you’re new to the group, we’re easy to join. Just drop your pants, and whenever the paddle hits your ass, simply respond, “Thank you sir, may I have another?”

Disclaimer…

I mess with everyone (especially myself). I will say something that offends your age, race, height, sex, weight, gender, orientation, religion, etc. so please follow the same advice that my friend George gave me before tearing me apart in front of a room of 100 of my peers: “Four words: With. A. Grain. Of. Salt.” (Yes…that is five words—he’d been drinking since 7 AM.)

So if you’re a left-handed, overweight, black, lesbian Jew who roots for Gonzaga, make sure you’re in a good mood before proceeding. (I’m realizing that one of my most-loyal readers is SHOCKINGLY close on this…)

Speaking of which—I really need to give my “loyal readers” a name. I’m going to go with “The Arnolds”…how better to commemorate my readers than by naming them after television’s greatest family.

The Plan…

I’m thinking I’m going to try to bring up the quality on these at the risk of grossly decreasing the quantity. You can probably plan on 2-3 posts a week, but hopefully with more detail, length (though not quite this long) and get this—EDITING!

For the Faithful…

With yesterday being Veteran’s Day and all, I figured I’d do something for my own veterans.

Way back (when I had the red and black lumberjack, with the hat to match) in the summer of 2006, I was writing a top ten list every day, and people really liked it. (When I write “top ten list”, people think David Letterman—I guess it is similar in the sense that I countdown ideas from ten to one—but his are more one-liner style, where mine tend to be jokes within jokes. Regardless—I’ve tried to distance myself from the practice because Letterman pretty much has the top-ten market cornered…)

Then I got complacent, arrogant—and how do you Americans say…HELPLESSLY WITHOUT IDEAS?

So I quit.

I tried several new ideas.

First there were the Surreal Sightings. I’d pick something I saw or heard and type a sentence or two about it.

The first one was:

Yesterday I saw a black man (is it black or African-American that is correct right now?), dressed in his best dress shirt, tie, slacks, nice shoes, and a classic, boxy briefcase take about ten large, careful steps into the heart of a blackberry patch for no apparent reason.

It was one of the most popular blogs I’ve ever written. But within two weeks, we’d gone from rave-reviews to what could only be described as Danny DeVito writing. (Short, uninspired, and bearing a close relationship with the word “Rhea”.)

We’ve tried just about everything since then, even tried to do a daily mailbag ala Bill Simmons, but have sort of settled into a few random blurbs every installment about something that is going on in the world, or my life, or in the life of one of my alter-egos.

(Oh—you’ve probably already noticed that I tend to meander a bit in my writing. Some people get off-course—I take you from New York to Boston via the Golden Gate Bridge…)

For some reason though—people just won’t let go of the top ten lists—like Britney Spears, unwilling to let go of her former wardrobe.

So I thought that I’d write a top-ten list to welcome you all to the new blogspace.

But what I came up with was “The Top Ten Things I’ll Miss About Myspace.” And you’re probably thinking, “Hey—this could be funny.” Turns out that it wasn’t funny. Not even a little bit. The only items that were worth publishing were a) a piece about my former-roommate only having a myspace page to read my blog, thus enshrining him in the “Anti-social Ring of Honor” and b) a description of how frustrated I was with my lesbian readers for having friends with private profiles. (I mentioned all of the questions I had for them: What do they eat? Why do they all wear belt-bags? What is that incense smell? Do they gain super strength from the earth’s yellow sun? I have so many questions…)

So, in my new commitment to editing and quality, I scrapped the idea and decided to go with the following:

People to Avoid…

I am trying to act as a public servant, and in-so-doing, I thought I’d give you a warning. There are people that we all know and all spend time with, whom we really shouldn’t be spending time with. The type of people that you find yourself staring at for long periods of time, asking yourself, “REALLY??”

So I graded them 1-100…with a 1 being someone you actually want to seek out.

Shots Guys. Grade: 86.
When you’re rushing a fraternity, occasionally, an upper-classmen will give you the, “You’re drinking with me” routine. And while that was never my style—I get it. Rights of passage, alcoholic-bonding…okay. But I’m almost twenty-seven, and I still have friends who drop $40 on a round of Jager shots and give you a look like you just tore apart their family crest while hitting on their sister and insulting their wife’s cooking when you turn down the drink. Are you serious? Why does my not feeling like a bag of crap in the morning insult you?

Couples who hate Each Other. Grade: 94.
They’re usually the type that really wants to double-date—and yet they spend the whole time telling you about the faults of the person they came with. But if you were to ever dare tell them that they should breakup, somehow you’re the jerk. My advice? Avoid these couples like they’re on fire—the only thing that they can do is get you and your significant other in a fight because you’ll both naturally take the side of the person of your same sex.

”He’s Not MY President” People. Grade 100.
The only person I know who can actually say this intelligently is Marko because he isn’t an American citizen.
I don’t care if you like him, I don’t care if you don’t respect him, I don’t care if you didn’t vote for him. If you are a citizen of the United States, HE IS YOUR DAMN PRESIDENT.

Jersey People. Grade: 91.
I love sports—and have strong allegiances to several teams. But if you pick me up to go somewhere, and I’m wearing a throwback #5 University of Washington/Mario Bailey jersey, you’re not being a good friend if you let me get in the car.

Music Snobs. Grade: 82.
Oh, wow—you know about a band that I haven’t heard of? You’re so deep…

Consultants. Grade: 89.
Really—do you want to spend time with people who have you pay them to look at your watch and tell you what time it is?

People who drink Mojitos. Grade: 96.
This especially goes for men—but if you want something festive that is loaded with mint and sugar, have a candy cane.
And your grade is raised to 99 if you are one of the asses who orders it like a Puerto Rican gigolo, “MOH-HEEE-Toooooooooooooooooooo…”

Washington Fans who Endorse Ty Willingham. Grade: 83.
Okay—this contradicts my hatred for the “He’s not my president” types, as hating/blaming your coach is a sign of disloyalty…but even despite the throttling of a I-AA-strength Syracuse team, it is abundantly clear that Ty Willingham should never have been hired (should have been Frank Solich) and has no history of showing that he has the capacity to manage a high-level football team. If he has 4 wins or less this year (which he almost undoubtedly will) and keeps his job, it is a travesty.

Odd Gum Chewers. Grade: 81.
Ever have someone offer you a piece of gum and then hand you some orange-kiwi thing? If you offer gum, it had better be mint, or I will strangle you with a garden-hose—this is a promise.

Open Heterosexuals. Grade: 97.
Everyone always talks about “openly gay” people. Okay—but if there are openly gay people, there are absolutely “openly straight” people. You know the type. They’re the first ones to comment on a girl that walks by, saying things like, “I’d totally hit that”, they have a stack of Playboys next to their toilet, and they TiVo every Victoria’s Secret special on ABC. OKAY! WE GET IT! You like chicks…can I live in peace now?

Red Sox Nation. Grade: 90.
I could easily include Yankee fans in this, but I kind of respect Yankee fans because they know that they’re opening themselves up for sincere hatred by admitting that they like the Yankees. But being a Red Sox fan not only lacks creativity, it also requires you to hang out with the rest of the John Mayer-listening, Swingers-quoting, bed-wetters that root for the Red Sox.

Tapatio People. Grade: 99.
For those of you whose IBS is worse than mine—Tapatio is the hot sauce at many restaurants with the white label and the guy with the sombrero. I know some people in the industry and they forwarded me the recipe:
1 part—baked, seeded, juiced peppers.
1 part—Kingsford charcoal
5 parts—liquid boiling garbage

And as if the horrendous taste isn’t enough, the biggest knock on Tapatio People is that they normally have the choice of using Chalula instead—which is the finest condiment in the world. Because of this choice, Tapatio People separate themselves from their biggest competition in the DB Condiment User world—the people who order ranch dressing with their meal.

Beer Garden Sports Fans. Grade: 89.
Note: If you stand in the beer garden, drink beer and hit on hideous chicks, you’re not “At the Game.” You’re at the crappiest, most-expensive club in your respective city. Don’t ever call yourself a sports fan again, or Curtis will hunt you down and sit on you.

Before I go…

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention a couple of things…

-How is my prediction of Michigan in the National Title game looking? I mean—yes, they’re the dominant program in the artist formerly known as I-AA…but the Appalachan win was more ridiculous than the rooster scene from Medallion.

-The Idaho Senator. I heard a radio station ask listeners, “Who is worse? Mike Vick or the Idaho Senator?” I really don’t see the difference between the two—they’re both guilty of the same crime: requesting that someone choke their favorite pet.

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