Friday, August 26, 2005

Wedding Crashers Trailer

For those of you who haven't seen the movie check out the new trailer starring Chris Da Player Reilly and Mike Da Pimp Plewick.


Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Look To The Cookie!

A black girl with big boobs to my left. Another girl dressed in business attire in front of her. A red-head standing behind me. What do these three women have in common with one another? They were all standing on line at Subway at 56th street waiting to pay along with me. Whatelse do they have in common? They were all offered a free cookie by the guy working at the register. Was I offered a free cookie? Nope. Why? Probably because I don't have boobs.

This isn't the first time its happened to me either. So don't go thinking that this is a one time event. No this has consistently happened every time I've been there to get lunch in the last month. I understand that bars sometimes only let groups of girls in and not groups of guys but this isn't a bar and it wasn't a social event. Its a matter of me doing my best to get fatter!

Now that I've been sexually discrimenated against I took matters into my own hands. Standing at the register after paying for my meal and hearing him offer a free cookie to the red-head I turned. Looked at the cookies like a criminal. Reached across this girl. Grabbed a White-Chocolate Chip Cookie and turned away from the counter.

Feeling as though I just beat the system I proceded to stuff the entire cookie into my mouth. They couldn't charge me for what they couldn't prove I had taken. With cookie crumbs in the corners of my lips, I walked out of Subway 150 calories heavier and a whole lot happier!

Tuesday, August 23, 2005


Its been a while since I last posted and that was because of some good advice from Chris Reetz. "You're trying too hard to be funny. Just relax and it'll happen." Or something like that. So I did. Then I went for a walk in the area around my office and here is what I saw:

Walking down 5th Avenue by Tiffany I spotted the most glorious site in the last few weeks. Coming towards me on roller blades was a 6 foot beauty with long lovely brown hair. Now the 6 foot estimate is 6 feet tall not on roller blades. She was approaching rapidly but luckily for me the light had changed so she was stuck on the other side of 55th Street.

When the light changed, the woman in front of her moved out of the way to reveal her in her full roller blading beauty. Her hair was long and brown, reaching slightly to her shoulders. But what was even more impressive was the fact that she was wearing skin tight white shorts and an orange bra.

How can you tell it was an orange bra, you ask? Very easily. As I was standing there she was rolling directly at me. I did my best not to stare but how could I not! Orange Bra! White Pants! And she was modelesque, if that’s even a word or the correct spelling. Her boobs were at eye level which made gazing at her boobs that much harder to avoid.

Unlike the black guy standing next to me, I refrained from making a comment. He on the other hand decided that it was his right to yell, “hey baby where you goin’ so fast! I’m right here!”

It reminded me of a Jimmy Buffett song called “Fruitcakes”. “I saw a guy/roller balding naked/ along the cross walk in the middle of the week.”

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

XXXClusive Writing Opportunity

For those of you in my Fantasy Football league, you have had the pleasure of reading some of the smut that I can churn out for the annual league manual. This has been some of the finest work ever written and published for your reading pleasure. While your wives, girlfriends and my girlfriend may be offended by it, the writing serves strictly as reading enjoyment. Plus its great to receive feedback from everyone. Feedback as: "Dude you're a sick fuck! where do you come up with this shit!" "How the!? Where the!? Who fucking writes like that!"

Hey its a talent. When you've got it, run with it.

Today during my daily review of,, and Gawker, I came across a post on Gawker where its pornographic counterpart is looking for writers. Check out this link: Live Girls on Stage!* As tempting as it sounds, I believe that my writing should be kept to the fantasy football league and maybe this blog. But by putting it on this blog it leaves open the opportunity for family and relatives to read, further tarnishing my image with them.

Seriously, how do you think my mom would feel about some of the things I have written!? Well none of it is from experience, just my screwed up mind, it is something that she would truly be offended by. This is the woman who brags to her friends that my friends and I ride 100 miles once a year to raise money for charity or shit like that. How would she look them in the eye and brag about me after reading so of my stories.

Either way, I wanted to put all the fears and concerns to sleep. I won't be quitting my day job to join Fleshbot as a porn writer. Tempting, i know. But somethings are best kept among friends. Plus if I write some cool shit, I could become published, quit my day job and live off of royalty checks.

Its good to dream. Now its time to get cracking on my next story for the fantasy football league.

Monday, August 15, 2005

CBGB Lives on with an Insiders Account

Many of you may have heard that CBGB was tangled in a legal battle of back rent. On August 10th, a Manahattan Civil Court judge ruled that the venue hadn't been "stiffing" its landlord on past rent and can't be evicted. This is a momuntemal ruling for the famous club as it has been around since 1973 located on Bowery Street.

While CBGB isn’t necessarily my speed it is good to know that places such as this aren’t being closed down because of greedy landlords. Or to make room for another Starbucks. The closest I’ve ever come to CBGB is being lost down on Bowery and walking past it. I’ll admit I was a bit spooked by the folks hanging outside of the club but they didn’t give me any problems so I felt a bit safer having to later ask them for directions to a bar. I was still new to the Village and had no clue how to get around below 24th street but the guys I asked were helpful, from what I recall.

My buddy Jason is into the hardcore scene that CBGB caters too. From the stories he’s told me, he’s traveled with punk bands and has performed with a quite a few others (I could be wrong on those points and Jason will correct me but that is just how I’ve interpreted conversations). On Sunday, Jason was at CBGB once again to watch a band that he had become friendly with years ago. It had been 15 years since the band Gorilla Biscuits last played together. His recount of the show provided me with great insight into scene in the club and the friendships that it has rekindled. Take a look at his recount from Sunday night’s fun.

Whether or not you've been to CGBG or if the music is/isn't your style, as a New Yorker you have to be happy with decisions such as the judge's to not force CBGB to pay the past rent. For those of you who don't want to click the link to read more, the jist of it is that the landlord increased the rent without written documentation. CBGB fought the landlord who was trying to regain the past funds and subsequently shut the club down. In the end, the historic CBGB won and continues to promote music throughout NYC.

Friday, August 12, 2005

Kitten Cannon

Sedaris & The New Animal Orgy

Today has been a rather slow day so during lunch I grabbed the latest GQ. I've read everything else from Fortune to SportsIllustrated, Wall Street Journal to the Metro free newspaper. While reading the magazine yesterday I came across an essay written by David Sedaris.

Sedaris has written quite a few books over the last year or so. One that I recently read, Me Talk Pretty One Day, was a relatively quick and easy read. It talks about his life growing up and some of places he's been and what he's experienced. After reading an article in GQ about Julio Franco, the 47 year old baseball player who is doing better than some superstars right now, I came across the essay from Sedaris.

Like his book its a rather quick read but it was pretty funny. What he basically did was take a day in his life and write it up for GQ. He basically blogged his essay. Its something I would and have done, like Short Skirts & a Gust of Wind. If you haven't read anything from David Sedaris take the time to read this little exerpt from the GQ essay. Its only about 1/3 of the essay but its pretty damn funny. If you read Me Talk Pretty One Day you'll be able to appreciate how twisted his sister is.

Cameron-Beltran Collision

This is definitely worth watching. While I hate the Mets, this is just rough. Cameron obviously takes the brunt of this face-to-face collision but its amazing that Beltran can actually walk after this. I guess that's why they pay him $42 million a year.

The link will take you to the story but check out the video that accompanies it.

The Aristocrats

The website dubs it as the private joke between comedians. Its "never been told in public" and gives us a glimpse into over 100 comedians. The film opened a few weeks ago in select cities and was discussed in the Sunday NY Times the week prior to its launch. If you look at the cast of characters, if you can even call them a cast, you'll names such as: George Carlin, Drew Carey, Andy Dick, Eddie Izzard, Jackie The Joke Man, Chris Rock, Rita Rudner, and Sarah Silverman.

People who are thankfully missing from the full list are Will Farrell, Owen Wilson, Vince Vaughn and Luke Wilson. While all four have been good in their movies recently, i'm getting tired of the 21st Century version of the Rat Pack. Plus I highly doubt any of those four have ever done stand-up.

Either way, it looks like its worth checking out. Here's the link to the site. Check out the trailer. Good times, lots of laughs.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Award Ceremony

Here is a picture of Paul after winning the government science award just last week.


How Do You Like Me NOW!? Is officially a success! After 3 weeks of being live we have generated an enormous response! While this post isn't as successful as some of those big corporate sponsored blogs like (cnet folks are big fans of that site) or, we are measuring success of this site based on the people visiting. Its always great to receive messages from Lance Armstrong and Omar Minaya, the true success of this site is being measured in the comments from people like Bill Hancock!

Many of you don't know Bill but he was the mathematical mastermind behind the success of Euro RSCG. Since Bill's departure from the agency it has lost numerous major accounts and excellent staff. Bill's departure was rumored to have been due to a layoff but for those of us who worked at Euro we know his departure was due to none other than Paul Magyar.

See it all started when Bill would come around to "clarify insertion orders" Paul. That right there should tell you something was wrong. Often times we found Bill standing at the entrance to our office gazing lovingly at Paul. You could see that his mind was traveling to wonderous places with Paul, all while they were running through fields of daisies.

When Paul decided he was going to move to Boston, long before he told Leslie or myself, he approached Bill in quiet comfort. They would sit for hours in Bill's office with the door closed and a Do Not Disturb sign hanging on the doorknob. But this time it was different. Paul broke the news. Bill lashed out in such a manner that the frightened Paul had to run away. He couldn't stand the heartache he caused. Paul ran to Leslie's office to tell her that he was leaving, Bill in a violent fit of lovers rage burst into Leslie's office. She did what she thought was best and told Bill that it was time for him to go. "The dream is over Bill. I'm sorry."

Rumor has it that Bill eventually forgave Paul. He traveled to Boston with him and helped him move. Since those glorious days 2 years ago, their love has died like a weed in the desert being scorched by the sun.

Today Paul is back in NYC and Bill is using this blog to reconnect. This my friends is how you judge success, by bringing two old "friends" together.

Tomorrow - The moving conversations of Paul Herrmann and my dog.


I'm beginning to think that the iPod is the worst thing I could have ever bought. Because it was in my laptop bag the iPod battery got somewhere near the laptop battery wiping out 70% of my music. This would be ok if the music that it wiped out was the same music that is on my laptop or on my computer at home. But NO. this is the music that i purchased or "borrowed" from other people! Fucking Steve Jobs and his fucking iPod invention.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

The Crash

The memory is etched in my mind. It’s a story that I share with people when they ask about riding or is I ever crashed. Reflecting on what could have happened. What would my life have been if circumstances were different?

The exact date and day escape me but the time is still something that lingers in my mind. It was 6:00 am on a warm summer morning, 30 minutes after I woke. It was still my first week on the new bike, a Trek Performance Pro 1000. Blue, white and black. The type of racing bike the pros ride, hence the name. It was built for street riding and even racing if I had been in the right form to do so.

I was cruising down Madison Ave in Hoboken at a sweet clip. The odometer on my bike registered 18 mph. I hadn’t gone a full mile yet and I was already at a nice cruising speed. As I crossed 10th Street and Madison I heard a car coming behind me. There was a car traveling down the opposite side of the street. Approaching railroad tracks I tried moving towards my left to avoid the tracks and give myself some room but the car to my left had a different idea.

He wasn’t moving in accordance with me. He wasn’t giving me the extra room I needed basically because he was out of room himself with a car coming towards him. I looked left to see if there was room, there wasn’t. I tried moving slightly but that wasn’t happening. My head turned to focus back on the road.

The next thing I saw was the telephone pole. In an instant I felt my bike not moving in the direction my body was moving. Momentum carried me right, the pothole my tire was caught in was forcing the front wheel left. My body had left the bike. Still moving at 18 MPH, at the least, my body flew. Head first into the telephone pole, I struck the pole in an instant.

The only thing separating my head from the pole was the plastic Gyro Helmet secured to my head by two nylon belts. The sound of plastic on solid wood echoes in my nightmares. The sound comes back to me at random times. It wasn’t the sound of a slap but more the sound of a crash.

The right side of my head hit the pole. Later I would see the dent in the helmet and the crack that the force of the blow administered. People often say when the hit their head they see stars. I saw the entire Solar System. Stars, planets, moons, and then literally the sun as I rolled over.

My hands tremble now as I right this. My head and shoulders throb. I can still see it. I can still feel it. I have a picture proving some of the damage inflicted on my body.

As my head moved to the left from the force of the blow I heard another CRACK. My right shoulder connected with the telephone pole. Just as hard as my head hit, my shoulder hit as well. My shoulder stopped me from flying further onto the sidewalk. The force of the collision had also turned my body so that when I finally landed my ass hit the curb. Square on the curb!

I was unconscious but only for a moment. The accident forced me to blackout just for a minute. I knew that the car traveling alongside of me never stopped. After coming to, I crawled to me feet. Still seeing stars but now feeling lost. I was dizzy and disoriented. Lost on the same road only blocks from my apartment. I stumbled to my bike. Clicked off my helmet and felt the urge to vomit. It didn’t happen. I dry heaved multiple times. Still lost but knew I needed to get my bike. I stumbled further into the street and looked back at the pole. I flew at least 4 feet.

Finally I took off my helmet, leaned forward and tried puking again but nothing happened. The helmet dropped to the ground. I collapsed to my knees. I could see it now. The crack was at least 2 inches long and the dent was the size of a softball.

I climbed on the bike and tried to pedal. My first thought was to get back on the bike. Ride. Get your head clear. My legs were gone. I couldn’t pedal. I couldn’t move. I climbed off the bike. Picked up my helmet and grabbed a water bottle off of the bike.

After a few minutes of trying to regain myself I walked the bike back home. Arrived at my apartment and sat on the couch. I couldn’t carry the bike up any more stairs so I waited. Went into the bathroom to look at my head. My pupils were wide open. I couldn’t see the green of my eyes. Just black pupils and bloodshot white.

“Advil” I thought. Popped two advil. Walked upstairs and showered. Put on clothes and went downstairs to watch TV with ice on my head, hip and shoulder.

“Don’t fall asleep. If you have a concussion you could fall into a coma.” I told myself. So I sat there. Watching TV.

What to Drink?

I'm already planning my evening of drinking. What should I drink? Beer? We have that in the apartment. Wine? We have that in the apartment as well. Jack? We have Jack and Coke so that's a step in the right direction. It'll probably be a game time decision. "Game Time" starts after I take The Diesel for a walk because walking a one-eared German Shepard is hard enough without a drink in my hand.

This is what my day has turned into. Not going to get lunch or make calls...What to drink tonight!? Luckily it was a busy morning so I can get away with that thought.

p.s. the picture was taken with my camera phone. so its shitty.

Officially Moved In

Its official kids, I'm staying at my job for a long time. My picture of Jimmy Superfly Snuka is up on my cabinet for all to see. When i first arrived here it was placed on the wall and hidden from view. For fucks' sake I'm at a new company where I don't know a soul but now i'm comfortable here. Superfly goes up in a prominent spot for the whole world to see.

I bought this picture when I was on vacation in Wildwood when I was probably in kindergarten. Its traveled with me from my house growing up to my dorms and apartment at Monmouth to every job I've had. Every job being Rapp Collins, Miller Business Communications, Fuel NA (which then became Euro, then Circle, then Euro Circle, then who know what the fuck after that), T-3, CNET and now Yeah i've had a lot of what!?

I'm here! planted. comfortable. Home!

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

How Pregnancy Happens

I stole this video clip from Chris Diclerico. This is how Pregnancy Happens.

Stupid Mets Fans

We all know one. At times we want to kick them in the nuts. 2005 Mets fans have got to be the most annoying people on the face of the earth. Out of the 200 or so who I've met, only 3 are intelligent. Met fans have become more annoying than Yankee fans. At least with the Yankees they win championships, they know how to suck early in the season only to be in the penant race this season when it matters most. But mainly this post is directed at Tromba.

Lets look at your "new" Mets shall we. You've already lost one bet to me - if the mets finished the month of April above .500 I bought you a burriot but if they finished that month at .500 or below you bought me a burrito. I won. May, the Mets finished below .500, June same story. It wasn't until July when they actually finished 1 game over .500. But that month is still in question because it was shortened by the All-Star Break. Had they played games during those three weeks they would have finished below .500. You're "Cy-Young" pitcher was too much of a pussy to pitch in the All-Star breaking. Fucking asshole wants to preserve his arm for the playoffs. Way to screw over your fans who voted you in. Ok the fans didn't vote but still Pedro's an asshole.

Now you send me a text message that "The Mets could be the best team in baseball." Keyword = could. They could be but they aren't. They maybe on a 3 game winning streak, and winners of 5 of their last 10 games but buddy don't go getting a hard-on over something that isn't going to amount to a load of shit.

Please refer to a comment I made to you back before the season started. There's a team called the Atlanta Braves who are beginning to run away with the National League East. The rest of that division is just going to be fighting for positioning while surprisingly Houston has made a huge push for the Wild Card.

Great job on getting Pedro and Beltran. Pedro has paid off...there's no denying that. But Beltran? Seriously! I can put up better numbers than he is doing. And now comes your turn to comment on the waste that is Jim Thome.....Just remember, we're 4 games over .500 without him. You're only 3 with Beltran in the line-up. Thus proving that we are a better team.

So take your "new" mets and all the stupid ads across the beautiful city of mine and bring them back to the shithole known as Shea. The mets have been and forever will be a second class team in NYC.

If you read something, say something

People, People! I know there have been a few of you who have read my blog. While cheesy and without much behind it I write anyway. But if you read something, comment. Let's hear it! Let's start the dialogue before I become popular from writing about nothing. When that happens you'll be able to tell your friends that we know each other...and have proof!

Story ideas are always welcomed too. If you have a topic and want my to write about it. I'll do so.

Dunkin Donuts!

Around this time last year I was on the no-carb, low-carb diet bullshit. It was good. I lost the gut that I had been working so hard developing but I couldn't eat what I wanted. No pasta, no caffienated coffee and no doughnuts! NONE! Zero. ZIP. Ziltch! Shit i spent every morning for almost three years walking past either a Dunkin Donuts or Chelsea's very own The Donut Pub. I lived on Boston Creme and Chocolate Glazed with a large cup of coffee with milk and sugar. Through all of this I was getting fat. it wasn't too noticeable during the late summer because I was training for the Lance Armstrong Foundation 100 Miler. but it did slow me down, not that I need much help in being slow.

When I got to CNET Dunkin Donuts was right across the street. Melissa and I would meet to grab coffee in the morning. I'd go with Mike or Reetz or Latoria or anyone else who sat near me to get donuts and coffee. Or just coffee. I could feel myself getting fatter. I had a hard time walking up steps. I became the guy from Super Size Me and yes I was also eating McDonalds every so often.

Then one morning I got on the scale, stole it out of Ken's bathroom and weighed myself. 199 pounds. The fattest I ever was. Not just heavy, but fat. "Shit! what the fuck!" Ok so from that point on I went on Sount Beach. Lost a lot of weight because I wasn't eating the things i loved. Believe me it was hard to go into Dunkin Donuts and order decaf with skim milk and 2 splenda. Who orders decaf at Dunking Donuts? That's like going to McDonalds and ordering a salad. What the fuck are you trying to cover up and what the fuck are you doing!? Get a coffee!

But i stayed the course. Lost the weight. Worked out and started feeling better. Its a cyclical thing. I do it this time every year.

This morning I was on the bus. Determined to eat better and get in shape. I was going to get off the bus and get an apple or banana or some sort of fruit. Fruit! For me! I don't eat fruit. But i was determined.

Leaving Port Authority I said to myself "Hey fatty start walking. Its only 15 blocks up and 3 blocks over to the office." So I walked. Up 8th Ave to 44th. Up 44th and cut the some alley between to theaters. Then cut through the Marriott Marique reaching Times Square. I approached 50th and 7th then remembered that just the other day my roommate Kelly and I found the Dunkin Donuts at 50th. Today I got to 50th determined to keep walking.

And keep walking i did!!! Straight onto the line at Dunkin Donuts.

"Next PLEASE" shouted the woman.

"Medium Iced Coffee. Milk. Sugar. Boston Creme and Double Chocolate Glazed."

Maybe the diet will start at lunch time. Until then I'll sit here in my fattness and enjoy the fact that I just ate more calories in 5 minutes than I should all day. But hey I still walked to work. That's gotta count for something.

p.s. Haven't had McDonalds in over a year now and I don't miss it!

Monday, August 08, 2005

Lime Green to be Exact

Earlier I met my old co-workers for a few beers. Just one then I gotta go. Ok it turned into 3, i think, but I really had the intention of stopping after one...maybe two. After saying goodbye and heading back towards the PATH it started to drizzle. Nothing major just a few drops here and there. As I approached the PATH I realized, "Oh shit i gotta pee...ok its not bad I can make it home."

I got on the PATH at 33rd, grabbed my seat, sat down and pulled my hat down low so I could sleep. People were getting on after their long day of work, some slightly wetter than others from the rain. There I sat in a with some dude scruntched up against me rubbing and bothering the shit out of me. I didn't pay it too much mind because I've had a few beers so its not a big deal. Maybe I'm imaging it. Although the dude next to me did get on at 14th street so there is a little bit of concern for me.

The train reached Hoboken. Everyone got up except for the guy next to me who sat slightly longer than he should have. I was waiting for him to put his hand on my knee to push himself up. That's how long he sat there. I got uncomfortable. I made the move to get up and so did he. I sat back down because I wasn't going to give this guy a chance to check out my ass. Its a thing of beauty...or so I like to think :)

The dude next to me got up. He went for the door to my left. I went for the closed door straight across from me because the last thing I wanted him to do was check out my ass as I walked up the steps out of the station. He was slightly to my left, heading out the door. The door infront of me opened, I jumped and headed straight for the door.

Usually when people go up the steps of the subway or the PATH they walk directly behind the person infront of them. I made sure I walked quick enough for this dude not to get near me. Giving a glance back as I got onto the platform I saw the dude behind me. My pace quickened. I may have knocked over a woman with a baby stroller but I didn't care. I didn't want to be the victim of one of those awkward stares. Instead I was the person giving the awkward stare.

She was right infront of me as we walked up the steps holding the hand of her boyfriend. I tried not to be rude and stare but its virtually impossible when the girl walking in front of you is wearing see-through white pants with a green thong. Lime green to be exact.

I wasn't being perverted. I wasn't taking out the camera phone to take a picture to share with my friends. I was trying to get home. Forgetting the urge to pee. Trying to get up the steps and away from the stetchy gay guy...he may not have been gay but he's got the label already. (On a side note, I have no problem with gay people. I just have a problem with gay men hitting on me because its been known to happen. It can be quite unnerving.)

She was walking up the steps holding her boyfriend's hand, taking her time going up each step. It was quite annoying and I would have pushed a bit to get up the steps if it wasn't for the fact that I was basically getting a free show from this girl. I didn't have to strain. I didn't have to go out of my way to see it. There was nothing rude about it because when I looked to my right the girl next to me was looking at it as well.

"How does her boyfriend let her out of the house like that!" I thought to myself. "Shit how does she look in the mirror knowing she's wearing a lime green thong with see-through pants and think that no one will notice!" I was shocked. Not upset because it was something different to look at.

Usually its my luck to have a girl's skirt pop up in front of me. This time it was right there for the entire world to see. I wondered if she went to work like that today. If so didn't one of her female co-workers say something about it? Shit when I worked at Euro one of the girls I worked with had her thong sticking out of her pants as clear as day. She realized that we, the guys, noticed. Probably because people who had no reason to come near our desks were walking by saying hello to her. She realized what was going on, went into the bathroom and took the thong off so that people wouldn't see it. Yes I kept on staring after she took it off to figure out if she did or didn't. I thought maybe she just tucked it lower. She later told me that she went into the bathroom and took it off.

Today this girl walked without a care in the world that her lime green thong was out there for the world to see. Sometimes I just don't get it.

p.s. it wasn't a small thong either. it was one of those Monica Lewinski big thongs.

Past Co-Workers

Earlier I went out for drinks with my old co-workers. Having left CNET over two weeks ago I have had the pleasure of keeping in touch with my former co-workers via email and persistent emails from all of us. Mainly the emails are between Kevin Y., Reetz and Tromba and they consist of shit talking about one another's baseball team and links from There have been other group emails that I have been on and replied all so that everyone has my email to keep in touch with me. But after leaving today I realized that I miss the big companies that I have been accustomed to working at.

CNET was big but I knew everyone and its because we were all the same age. We did the same thing for work and had interests and hobbies that we can all share. It made it easy to come into work and be able to hold a conversation about sports, weekends, drinking and the person who showed up to work wearing the same clothes from yesterday. After having a few drinks with everyone tonight I realized that they are true friends. I've worked at a number of places and I realized the people who I am truly friends with. From Euro I know I'm friends with Paul, Leslie and Seth but I have other people who we can just pick up our conversations from wherever we left off the last time we spoke. But those 3 are people who I speak with on a fairly regular basis. Paul and I probably IM at least 3 times per week. Leslie, she's busy but we can easily bullshit with one another and Seth, the conversations with Seth while rare lately come very easy.

Its been great having friends like all of them and the people at CNET. I realize it not that these weren't just co-workers they were friends. The guys at all the companies enjoyed the random stories that I would share about some of the weird shit I'd see walking through NYC or the odd things that happened at the bar I work. For the ladies we were able to just talk and it didn't have to be about anything specific. usually it was all joking around stuff. This holds true for the CNET people and the Euro (T-3) people.

After 1 month of being gone from CNET, I realize at things are slightly different. The people are nice and they are fun but there aren't that many of us. The group at CFO who are my age are a very small group. Most of the people are ones who have worked for CFO Mag for years. They are older than I. I enjoy the fun none the less but I do miss the big companies.

Down at the Bayou

Friday felt like a good day to slide out of work a little early to get a headstart on the weekend. After my boss told me that I could leave early I had my heart set on grabbing Melissa and jumping on the train back to her house in hopes of cracking open a beer. Seeing her for the first time in over a week definitely brought a smile to my face. We caught up with one another at the clock in the middle of Grand Central. Embraced with a huge hug and kiss that reminded me of when we first started dating.

Feeling so tiny in my arms I couldn't stop squeezing and kissing. Kissing and squeezing. It really felt like we had just started dating all over again. The feeling where all you want to do is hold your partners hand or have some sort of constant contact with that person. That's where we were at in the day and the week.

The days leading up to Friday had been stressful for her. As a matter of fact, the weeks leading up to this moment had been stressful for her. Often times her mind was focused deep on work. There has been so much going on for her that often times the conversation goes back to work, which I can admit now, would get on my nerves. I would think to myself "its saturday, can we not discuss work!" But there is a need to be understanding of what is going on with her at work. There's a need to remember a few years ago when we first started dating that I was in her place. Working 10 hours days, going home then checking email. Or being too nervous to take a few days off because something may go wrong while I was out.

Today felt different. Today felt like it was going to be different. I knew our train ride would focus on some work stuff. Its inevitable no matter who you are to discuss work with your loved one for the first hour or so that you see them after working 8 hours straight. You need that sounding boar. You need that person to hear you complain about work.

After the long hello filled with one big hug and multiple kisses we made our way down to track 110. Fifteen minutes until the train leaves. I thought about grabbing a beer for the ride but reconsidered because I really didn't want one. Shit did I just say that!? I didn't want a beer! She must have had some sort of hold on my today to walk right past the beer cart without a second thought.

Sitting on the train we discussed our days and how things were going. Earlier we had booked a nice romantic getaway to Cancun over the Labor Day weekend. She needed the break from work and I needed to sit some where not along the East Coast to relax. The trip had been planned and paid for earlier that day and that was all we discussed...after the little work conversation. We had found something to look forward to all week! The trip is less than a month away but there is so much to do. So much to plan for.

Arriving at her home it was time to make dinner plans. Sitting in her room she handed me the Westchester Magazine with a section devoted to all the places in the area. We were going out to eat and that part was decided long before arriving home.

Flipping through the pages I hadn't really found anything of great interest. Although I hadn't really looked that closely at all of the restaurants. Flipping the magazine closed a headline on the cover caught my eye - Barbecue. Hmm I could really go for some barbecue right now!

"Hey how about barbecue? Are there any good barbecue places that are near by?" I asked excitedly.

"We could go to the Bayou," she replied.

"Hhhmmm. The Bayou," I thought "that sounds interesting."

"Sold," I explained.

We're off to the Bayou! Cajun food in the middle of Mount Vernon. That right there sounded out to me but shit I was in! I wanted barbecue ribs and beer! I wanted to lick the barbecue sauce off my fingers and leave them smelling like the yummy bbq saucy that is applied to ribs.

The Bayou didn't disappoint! It boosts a relatively small bar that is separated by four booth style seats. Outside of the boothes the remainder of the dining area is made up of about twelve tables seating from 2 - 4 people at each table.

The menu was enormous ranging from Hushpuppies to Po'Boys, Ribs, Jumbalya, Gator Sausage and so much more yummy cajun, bbq goodness. We didn't know where to begin to order, the exception of the Rolling Rock I ordered. Beer. NOW!

Our waiter, some alternative looking dude with a piercing in his tongue and lip along with his spiked hair wearing army fatigues returned with our drinks, returned with our drinks - Rolling Rock and i have no idea what Melissa ordered. "I'll give you guys a few minutes," he said.

After reviewing the menu we almost came to our traditional compromise, Melissa was torn between two dishes and I was willing to order one in case she didn't like the other. In the back of my mind I really wanted ribs and I was hoping that we could change our compromise. Ten minutes later we are still discussing the menu when its decided, I'm getting the ribs but I have no idea what she ordered.

But first, an order of Hushpuppies! Our waiter returns with our house salads and the order of hushpuppies. "Hey can I get another, please" referring to another beer. The first Rolling Rock went down so smooth and refreshing that I needed another to make sure to keep my mouth wet.

The hushpuppies didn't stand a chance. We devoured them in a matter of seconds. Beer #2 went as quickly as the beer #1 and the hushpuppies. Out comes our order. I can see the steam coming off the ribs. The aroma of barbecue sauce waffed through my nostrils and was so powerful my mouth began to water. "Oh look at this," I thought to myself. "Oh and mashe potatoes!!!!" Although they referred to them as "smashed potatoes" but I didn't care. They were smoothered in gravy and I couldn't wait to dig in!

We picked at my ribs and my potatoes and some spinach like substance as if we were vultures having not eaten in days. Melissa and I tried her meal but were more content with the meal infront of me. Ribs! YUMMY! With each rib that I picked up, each bite resulted in all of the meat falling from the bone and dangling from my mouth. The simile of the vulture held true as I ate my meal, food hanging from my beak with my eyes darting around the room to make sure no one was going to take my meal from me.

Beer #3 arrived minutes after the first of 8 ribs were devoured. My fingers covered in barbecue sauce would have made picking the pint up exteremyl difficult so I sucked the barbecue sauce from my fingers. Savoring the delight of the ribs even further. Licking the sauce as if I were licking and ice cream cone. With my fingers finally clean of the barbecue sauce I took a sip of the ice cold beer. AAHHHH This is a great summer time meal! Second to only clams and corona.

Prior to dinner we decided to make a "southern night" out of it. We would head to the Bayou then go check out Jessica Simpson in a bikini. I mean "The Dukes of Hazard". But dinner was quickly adjusting those plans. Our stomachs full we drove back to melissa's house as we had over an hour and an half to kill before the movie. That move changed the outcome of the rest of the night.

Arriving back at her house, we knew we had to get up early saturday morning for Melissa's marathon training run in Central Park. Not one to screw with her training, we decided to throw on our pjs and just stay at home. Our full bellies kept us from doing much. We opted for sitting on the couch to relax. Hoping that the fullness would soon pass but that dream never became a reality.

After lounging for what felt like forever but really only resulted in 20 minutes, we decided that it was best if we went for a walk around the neighborhood. It wasn't quite 10 pm but if we wanted to sleep somewhat comfortably, then a walk would help us digest.
The ribs and potatoes were gone in no time.

Friday, August 05, 2005


Breaking News - Fake homeless guy has gone MIA. He's not in his usual spot on West 57th street. The sidewalk seems lonely without his constant chatter and berating of people. The more I think about it the more I realize he hasn't been there all week. No wonder my walks to get lunch have been so peaceful!

Yesterday I ventured back to the Time Warner Center where I find myself spending a lot of lunches. Basically wandering the mall. Looking at the inside of the mall its just a vast wasteland. There's probably about 6 stores to each floor, with the exception of the first floor but other than that the mall itself is just intimidating and dreary. When you first enter the building from Broadway - or is it just called Columbus Circle? - you are greeted by two giant statues one of a large naked man and the other of a large naked woman. Of course I studied the nake woman closer than the man, so I probably look like some perv or something.

Ok what was I just talking about? oh the fake homeless guy gone MIA. Yeah he's totally not there. Maybe he got snagged as being fake or maybe someone hired him to paint the outside of their house. Either way I haven't had to deal with "Shalom Hungry Jew" yeah a homeless hungry Jew who puts in food orders to people!

My biggest fear those is as I say these things about him, I don't want to end up like him. I've got myself in debt and now I'm trying to get out. But what if I never get out of this quicksand? What if i'm trapped in this ugly pit of debt forever? Considering I'm still paying off credit cards from college and I graduated 7 years ago! Great there I go again making myself worry...sweet! time to go to the bathroom to puke.

Where is she?

There's been no call since last night at 10 pm. She had gone to bed early because she was tired and slightly drunk. I went out to meet up with some friends for a couple of beers. But now its 12 hours since we last spoke. Worrying is something that I do well and effectively. If worrying were an olypmic sport I'd probably finish in the top 10 - although I worry about random things.

Is there enough money in my bank account? Why hasn't this check cleared? Does my belt match my shoes? Why isn't she online yet?

The "why isn't she online yet" part is what I typically worry about the most in the mornings. In the new world we live in. In the new New York that we call home, life is different. You worry about the littlest things without letting on. "The guy looks shady." "Why are there more cops on this platform than normal? And how come they are not carrying gas masks? They regularly don't carry them wih them."

I worry about her because I love her and couldn't stand a day where I wouldn't be able to talk to her. Sure there are times when we're on the phone that conversation doesn't come easily. We sit in silence grasping for words but our minds are racing with work. Those times should bother us. They would make people who just started dating wonder and wander. Wandering minds lead to dangerous outcomes. Her and I have a connection and we know that the lack of conversation is simply our brains trying to take a minute to catch it's breath.

10:03, do I call? Maybe she's home still asleep. She does that some times. Calls out of work for a mental day but doesn't tell me. That's when I call and wake her up which leads to her being slightly frustrated because all she wanted to do was sleep a little later. Oh well. If I wake her at least I know she's safe. It makes me feel better.

10:04!? The clock on my computer can't be right. I check the time on my cell phone, 10:04. "Hey," I yell to my co-worker walking by "you know what time it is?" "I've gotttttt...10:04." "Shit thanks."

Finally I call. "Hey babe, where you at?" Ok so sometimes when I speak I don't do it well.

"Let me call you back from my office?"

"Oh...ok you weren't online so I didn't know where you were. Drop me a line when you get a chance." I say this because her voice sounds rushed. She probably just ran in and is late for a meeting. Or she's been in and still late for a meeting. Either way it bothers me none because I know she's safe. I feel more relaxed now. I can stop worrying.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

The 5-year Plan

Over the last few weeks I have heard people talk about their "5-Year Plan". Its been in magazines where people say "Oh I have a 5-year plan. In 5-years I'll be married or doing this or that." That's when I realize my 5-yera plan expired about 16 years ago. That's not good. This needs correcting on my part. I've got a beautiful woman in Melissa who probably has a 5-year plan in the back of her mind.

Now its time to rebuild my 5-year plan. I've always basically lived paycheck to paycheck and that's not good. Now in my new job there needs to be a plan. Time to start establishing the plan and finalizing it but the 5-year plan can't just be 5 years then done. Its something that should be 5-years with mendable clauses for the unforseen. The unforseen being job transfers, unexpected job losses or other things that could totally screw up the plan.

The 5-year plan should definitely be followed by another 5 year plan which means I'll need to create a 5 year plan after my 5 year plan which in mathematical terms means 10-yers.

Holy crap I have to plan for 10-years from now!? I'm the person who changes jobs and apartments more often than I can my shirt! Holy pressure! Ok its time to log off and start planning...5 years from now I'll be 34! holy fucking shit balls!

Ok well this shouldn't be too difficult. Five years...ring. wedding. house.! holy dog shit! Ok no worries this can be figured out. She's worth it. More than worth it. I'm still trying to figure out how she choose me...that's another topic to sort through.


On Sunday I sat on Melissa's porch reading the Sunday Times. Her and her mom were out at the store picking up groceries and other things that they needed. There I sat on the deck reading the paper which is becoming my new thing to kill time. In one section, probably the Sunday Styles, a writer was talking about how the f-bomb was being used too much in our society.

He explained that its all over. Movies. TV. Radio. Commericials. And even sports. Ok sports? Are you expecting athletes to sensor what they say? Yeah these guys get paid millions of dollars to play a childs game but the write whose name completely escapes me, expects athletes to keep it clean. They are getting paid good money to play a sport. I play flag football and when I mess up I drop multiple f-bombs.

The snobbery of this article just baffled me. The writer went to the extent to change it from "f-bomb" to word "word-bomb." Seriously, are you that high maintainence that you can't use "f-bomb"? now i understand its the NYTimes. ok fine. But no one is going to sensor me from saying fuck...fuck..fuck fuck fuck. "Mother fuck. Mother mother fuck fuck fuck."

Its natural that the word fuck is going to become mroe and more previlent in our society. People say "ass" on TV. "Shit" has even made it onto regular TV. But for this guy to write an entire article devoted to how our society is going out of control and is using the "f-bomb" entirely too much.

The article really chaffed my ass. I was fired up when I read it. Now I'm slightly calmer but I'm sitting here watching a movie "American Wedding" and the "f-bomb" is being dropped constantly. Its not a terrible word. I mean for fucks' sake my mom once sent me an email with all the uses of the word "Fuck." If Sister Eileen can send me an email about the word Fuck then why can't it be used more often in the world!!!???

FUCK people have actually use it in meetings that I've sat in on for work. I've used it after the my client, a VP of Marketing at Dell, used it in a meeting. I've said worse "Your site is shitting the bed!" to a site, in a meeting!

The "f-bomb" is one of my favorite words. I use it more than I say my own name. So please, I encourage you to say "fuck" whenever possible or necessary. Use it people and be proud!!!!

Fuck this shit I need a fucking drink. I hope we have some fucking soda left in the fridge :)

Body Paint

Who was the genius who created body paint? And who the brain child behind convincing this girl to paint her chest, walk around a club with her chest painted and not wear a shirt? Who is that genius because I want to shake his hand and thank him for the fine work he has done.

You just can’t make this shit up. Look at her boobs! I can’t even write a story to do her justice. I just hope that someday if I have children they don’t end up as weird and twisted as this chick. Now she’s probably a nice girl who likes to drink and have fun with her friends. But when I look at that picture all I can think of is “she must be wild in bed.” And you know what, that’s what 99% of the guys who see her picture think as well. That or “damn I wanna hit that shit.” But I’ll never find out because I don’t want the diseases she’s probably carrying and more importantly I’m not going to fuck up my life or my relationship to find out.

But its still fun to take that pictures and send them around to my buddies. The comments all come back basically the same. Then those guys send them off to their buddies and suddenly, is getting hundreds of visitors per day. The site stays in business because of people like me who should be doing work but instead are visiting these sites. Hell I’m supposed to be selling internet ad space for my company yet while I’m at work I’ll take my “15 minute smoke break” to surf the web. (No I don’t smoke but my theory is, if you get 15 minutes to smoke then I get 15 minutes to slack off.)

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Bad News Bears

Somewhat off topic, did anyone ever notice that in Bad News Bears Walter Matthau drinks 5 different types of beer during each of which is probably a real beer and not the 1998 fake beer that is used in movies today.

Last week we were watching that great movie for the first time in years and started to pick up on the types of beer Matthau is drinking. Now maybe he drank 6 different types because we didn't see it from the beginning but we counted: Coors Original, Pabst Blue Ribbon, Bud Light, Schaffer, and some thing that looked like Red Stripe. It was great watching it too because the Chico's Bail Bonds sponsorship of the team has to be the greatest thing ever. If/when I have kids, I'm hoping they get a kickass little league sponsorship like Chicos!

Writing for Business

Over my last seven years of working in Corporate America I have come across something extremely annoying. People don' know how to write! Now I'm not an expert writer nor am I perfect all the time but when you send out an email to someone from another company for the very first time you try to make it appear as though you're not learning english for the first time.

I've received countless emails with spelling mistakes and sentences that were full paragraphs. What happened to these people in grade school and high school where they were taught how to write then they just ignore it? There's a certain way to write for business and a certain way to write personal. But when your business writing appears more like 2nd grade writing you might want to double check your work more clearly.

And spelling mistakes in this day and again are just not acceptable. Every email service has spell check. USE IT! It just bothers me to try to figure out the ebonics that some jackass sent me that is supposed to a Request for Information.

If you want your company to be taken serious, then learn how to write! I'm not going to respond to some half-assed email because how am I supposed to expect that you're going to pay your bills. Seriously!

That's all for now.

My Neice Grace!

How could I not put a picture of this little bundle of joy up on my site!! Posted by Picasa

Twitter Updates

    follow me on Twitter