Compromise

Compromise: a settlement of differences by mutual concessions.

Thank you, Ron Paul.  Thank you for showing us not only what makes a good republican, but also a good leader.  Leaders are a special breed.  They are exceptional, infallible, and unwavering.  They stand strong on their convictions and ideologies.  It's their way or the highway.

Leadership is about knowing all the answers and ignoring the opposition.  Compromise is another word for pussy.  Obviously, Ron's team is into summer blockbusters as much as me and he shows just how awful it would be to compromise.  How do I know it would be awful?  Because the music is scary and it is typed on a crinkled piece of paper in caps.  If compromise was good surely it would be written in lower case on a nice piece of stationary with soft piano.


The whole idea of compromise is lame.  Why should we make "mutual concessions"?  This just sounds like both parties lose.  Instead let's have one party completely happy or both parties depressed.  Who cares that the decisions that are made actually have an effect on people's lives and futures.  It's more important to make a statement.  That's leadership.

We don't have elections so people can work together and get things done.  That would be stupid.  We have elections so folks can get together and passive-aggressively slow down progress.  You can't run a winning election campaign on an idea that together we can do something great.  "Yes We Can" would be a stupid slogan.  However "Standing on Principles and Pleasing the Base to Get Reelected" would look real good on a bumper sticker.

Here is an example of a true American, who stands by his principles.




God Bless America.

Resume Tip #13: Get Their Attention

If there's one thing that I have learned in my time of unemployment, it's that you need to get the attention of employers.  There are waste paper bins filled each day with boring resumes and cover letters.  White paper.  Times New Roman font.  Black ink.  I almost fall asleep just typing those words.  That's why you need spunk.  Paper is so old fashioned.  That's why I recommend creating an iPhone app that is your resume.  If you don't know how to do that just create a video resume like the one below.  Be sure to include at least one explosion.

Steve Martin and Martin Short

Yesterday, I was privileged enough (thanks to a generous girlfriend) to witness two of my favorite comedians together on stage.  It was the conclusion of TBS' Just for Laughs Chicago festival and I daresay the cherry on top.  For me, it was an opportunity to laugh and listen to two people that inspire me.  It was also a chance to feel what it's like to nearly explode from joy.

The event was billed as a "Very Stupid Conversation" that would feature two of the three amigos.  I didn't know much else going into the show but when I got there there was a piano on stage and chairs.

The show started about ten minutes late, with me becoming more and more agitated as people slowly gravitated towards their seats.  I take my role as an audience member very seriously and I don't care if "the wheelchair access elevator is out of order."  Get to your seat already.

The show began with a series of clips showing our heroes at their best.  Steve and John Candy.  Martin Short as Jerry Lewis.  The Father of the Bride.  Marty as Liz Taylor.  King Tut.  Ed Grimley.

I was surprised at how these clips affected me.  While watching the clips I became overwhelmed with emotion and started to tear up.  The only explanation that I have is that the work of these two performers has provided me with so much entertainment and bliss that it was moving to know that I was going to see them in person.  I am very passionate about Steve Martin and have many times defended his honor in drunken arguments until 4 in the morning.

I never understood how young teenage girls would scream, sob, and try to attack their favorite musicians from Beatles to Bieber.  Can't they control themselves?  What's the big deal? They are just people like the rest of us?  Then I saw Steve Martin live on stage.  It was as if I was Popeye and Steve Martin was my spinach.  It was as if I swallowed the Sun and its energy surged through my veins.  It is also probably what it is like to have a hundred erections on a hundred different penises that are all somehow attached to your body.  Somewhere inside of me I restrained my inner teenage girl and didn't cry out, but in a way I wish I did.

The show opened with a little banter like this.



Then Marty sang a song from his musical Fame Becomes Me which previewed in Chicago and I saw.  After that the conversation began.  Even though a lot of the conversation was similar to Steve's memoir and Steve and Marty's other talk show appearances (which I've obsessively YouTube'd) there were a few tidbits of new information which fueled my inner nerd.  There is also something really wonderful about watching two people that are really funny and really like each other.  They made jokes about each other but it was all in good fun.  A bed was pulled out for Steve when Marty began to sing his second song, and then Marty gently made fun of Steve.



The jokes never got mean because we knew that no matter what was said, these guys were buddies (in Spanish, amigos.)  To me, what was better than the responses to the seemingly ordinary questions was the little side comments.  Steve would give a long winded honest answer to one of Marty's questions and then Marty would just make a comment that he would eventually like a turn to speak.  Needless to say the audience ate up every word that was said and erupted in laughter.  This was the dynamic which produced an excellent comedic team.  Steve was the intelligent, soft spoken, humorist and Marty was the outrageous, loud, performer.  Together they gave the audience everything they could want.  Interestingly though, at the end I didn't think either was funnier or outshown the other.  It was truly a team effort and I will use the word magical.  One magical moment was when Steve swung a microphone towards his banjo which was also by his crotch.  Marty quickly said, "Woah I didn't know where that was going to end up!"  And Steve replied very quickly, "You don't know where I sing from."  It was right after Steve had complimented Bill Murray and Russell Brand for having the quickest ad libs he's ever seen.   

Steve also performed a banjo song while Marty got ready to return to the stage as master interviewer Jiminy Glick.  Jiminy gave Martin Short the chance to be even more outrageous and rude to Steve.  Hilarity ensued.  Then Martin and Steve returned for questions from the audience.  I did not have the guts or the oxygen to ask a question but many people did.

The final part of the show was another part that made me teary.  It was a gentle song about Steve and Marty's 30 year friendship.  It began with Steve handing lyrics to Marty which Steve said he had written for the occasion.  It was a great way to end a great show.  Even watching the video now makes me teary.  I am a pussy.  But who cares.

Fuck You, Joe's Crab Shack

Dear Joe's Crab Shack,
Thank you for finally getting back to me after I applied three weeks ago.  Every day I checked my email hoping that you would respond.  After a while I didn't care if it was a yes or a no, I just wanted some kind of acknowledgement.  I called and was assured that I would be considered that week, but I know how emails can get lost in transit.

 Your letter told me that you were going to "pursue candidates that are a closer match for this position".  You guys are probably right.  My resume clearly didn't emphasize that I " love smiling and dancing" or that I am "passionate" or "energetic."  Truth be told, I only like smiling and dancing.  Love is a stretch.  Instead on my application I talked about past jobs and experience that I have had and clearly, I wasn't good enough.  You want youthful and naive, with an idealistic look at the world.  I have been out of school for one year and have been hardened by the harsh reality of the streets.  I know I mentioned that I take improv classes, have been in musicals, and have worked in restaurants, but I used Times New Roman, a font that goes against everything you stand for.  I should have gone with something like Comic Sans or Bauhaus 93.  These fonts are passionate, energetic, and love to dance.


Quite frankly, I thought that just having the name Joe would give me an edge.  Isn't that the perfect way to start a conversation?  "Hi, I'm Joe, welcome to Joe's Crab Shack."  They would not forget my name that's for sure and they would respect me because they would assume that the restaurant is named after me.  But just having a name doesn't qualify me to "serve food and drinks and accommodate guests' needs in a courteous and timely manner."  And apparently neither does having a college education or working in fast food.  I don't know what would give you this kind of experience but dammit I am going to go out and try to get it so that you will eventually hire me.  Joe's Crab Shack is the highest of all shacks including Radio and Love.  I am not fit to even touch the bucket that holds your snow crab.  I understand your decision and no hard feelings.


Thank you for taking the time to read my application and reject it.  Go fuck yourself, Joe's Crab Shack.


Sincerely,


Joe Barlow

4 Rules for Sending Sexual Photos

Anthony Weiner came forward today to explain that his twitter account had not been hacked and that he was the one that sent this picture to a Seattle lady.

This should come as a reminder to all of us that there are important rules to follow when dealing with this kind of situation.  My biggest regret is that Anthony Weiner didn't get to see this list before this big thing happened.


1.  If your name is Weiner, don't take a picture of your wiener
The first rule does not only apply to the name Weiner.  It applies to all names that are also slang terms for private parts.  For example, Derek Scrotum shouldn't take a pic of his nutsack and Martha Ta-tas should not take a picture of her breasts.  Having a funny name instantly makes your problem 10 times bigger because the easier the jokes come, the longer this will be a news story.  It is also difficult for people to forget about your wiener scandal if your last name is a constant reminder.


2.  If you are going to lie, really lie
Far too many people in this world have consciences and feel guilt when they lie.  Here was Weiner's big mistake.  He did numerous interviews in which he said that his account had been hacked.  Then he made a critical error: when asked if it was him in the picture he said he can’t say “with certitude” whether the picture is him.  Anthony, if you are going to lie about sending out the picture, go all in on the lie and say that it is not a picture of you.  The second lie makes the first lie sound better.  Not denying that it was you in the picture was practically a giveaway.  So now not only did Weiner send an inappropriate photo to someone he has never met, but now he's a dirty liar too.


3.  Don't use the word certitude
This is a word that the guilty use to try to trick journalists.


4. Don't use Twitter
Of all the ways to share a picture of your bulging boxer briefs, you chose Twitter.  Twitter is not great for sharing information privately.  As Weiner learned, the "direct message" box looks exactly like the "new tweet" box.  E-mail, facebook, and cell phones are your best options.  By far the best place to share is MySpace.  Nobody ever goes to that website.


4.  Don't show your face

I think Anthony would have been in the clear if other pictures of him hadn't come up.  Having a shirtless picture is the equivalent of a penis in the underwear shot.  It shows you like attention and are proud of your body.  It's not a stretch to make the connection.  That's why you should just keep your head out of the frame or hold something large in front of it like the neighbor from Home Improvement.  We all know what he was doing behind that fence...

Hangover Script Secrets

Many people know that I have incredible connections in the motion picture industry.  These connections make it possible for me to give you breaking bits of information about popular movies.  I was fortunate enough to know a guy who knows the director of The Hangover, Todd Phillips.  The Hangover was an instant classic that turned Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, and Zach Galifianakis into the modern day Three Amigos.  The Hangover Part II did it again and I got to learn about the writing process involved.

The guy I know had access to the writers' computers and discovered that both movies were created from a simple mad lib.  The mad lib sets up the magic formula that reaps box office gold.  No doubt The Hangover Part III  will follow the same formula.  I have the unsolved and solved versions below.

SPOILER ALERT: This mad lib gives away major plot points, however if you have already seen the first Hangover, then you already know them. (CLICK TO ENLARGE)

My Final Post

I approach tonight's blog with a heavy heart.  A heart full of feelings, hope, and mostly blood.  I have reached the end of the blog highway.  I have enjoyed creating these blogs and having 10 real solid readers.  Those 10 people have made this blog into what it is today: a tiny blip on the internet blip-o-meter.

It's not that I don't want to continue.  I have the desire and Arnold Schwarzenegger is giving me plenty of material.  The problem is the world is ending.  Tomorrow.  I think it shows how much this blog truly means to me if it is what I have chosen to do on my last day alive.

Looking back on my life I regret a few things.  Not accepting my dream job and instead choosing a life of honest work at a Target is one regret.  Another is not marrying my supermodel girlfriend when she proposed to me.  Overall, I think my biggest regret is my rudeness towards strangers.  I could have been much more rude.

I am proud of some things I accomplished in my lifetime.  My dedication to physical fitness in others.  My never-ending loyalty to quilts.  My attitude towards Klondike Bars.  Most importantly, I am proud to have tried everything on the McDonald's menu.

So long and thanks for all the fish.

How I Helped Kill Osama bin Laden

This whole story is going to seem like fiction.  Even though I was directly involved, I still pinch myself and try to remember that ever word below is true.  I could not make up the story below if I tried.

I met Osama bin Laden last year.  It was late on a Tuesday night and I was avoiding writing my philosophy paper on Plato (not Playdough as I had originally hoped.)  I decided to waste time by meeting new people and seeing various testicles on a popular website at the time called Chatroulette.  For those of you who don't know, Chatroulette connects you randomly to webcams across the world.  You can meet and talk with people but about 1 in 3 videos involve male nudity.

Just when I was about to log off, I saw what at first glance, seemed to be more male genitalia.  The hair was curly and dark with a grey streak down the middle.  Then I realized it wasn't a pervert but instead a human face, the face of Osama bin Laden.  Needless to say, I was stunned.

He was relaxing on a couch and drinking Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper from a 2 liter.  On his right was a picture of a puppy and on his left there was an assault rifle.

At first I was outraged.  I wanted to yell at him and chide him for his wrongdoings, but instead I played it cool.  This was an opportunity to gain some information and find out where he was hiding. I took a breath and acted natural.

"Hey man, what's your name?" I asked pretending to be a stereotypical dumb American who doesn't know who Plato is.

"Mark," he replied casually.  He was tricky, very tricky.  I wasn't going to let his lies and puppy pic fool me.  Fool me once shame on you.  Fool me twice... I don't... you don't... I'm not a fool.  That's the point.

"Ok, 'Mark'."  In my head I imagined doing air-quotes in a mocking tone, but I exercised extreme restraint and continued.  "Where are you right now?"

Without hesitation he said, "Lansing, Michigan.  I'm studying theatre at the Great Lakes Christian College.  How about you?"

Damn.  He was good, but I was better.

"I'm just here in New York City, observing how these awful Americans exercise free speech and shirts that show cleavage.  It's awful and I am a Muslim."  Suck it, Osama.  He would soon fall into my trap.

"Here in Lansing it's too cold to show cleavage," he said with a pretty accurate Michigan accent.  He had really done his homework.  I had heard enough.

"All right dickboy.  The jig is up.  I know who you are.  Tell me your location right now."  I don't know where I learned to talk like that.  I'm pretty sure that might be a quote from the Die Hard franchise.

"I don't know what you are talking about.  My name's Mark."  He just would not give up on this Mark thing.  I decided to let him know my true feelings.

"Look, you've had your fun.  Stop playing around."

He looked at me and simply repeated, "I'm Mark."

I searched my brain for the right quote from a Bruce Willis movie that would get him to respect me and answer my question.  Finally I settled on this gem from Live Free or Die Hard:

"You're gonna tell me what I wanna know, or I'm gonna beat you to death in your own house."

He was stunned.  "Is that from Live Free or Die Hard?"

"Yes. Yes it is."

"Ok.  I'll tell you everything."

We talked for hours about his likes, his passions, his location, his bucket list, Die Hard 2, boxers or briefs, and why he's more of a Samantha than a Carrie.  It was truly an eye opening experience.

As the conversation came to an end, he looked at me with a tear in his eye.  He took a long pause, and quietly said, "After talking with you, and sharing my feelings, I really regret what I did 9 years ago.  I was young and foolish.  You have shown me that a free society can produce good people."

"And we also produced the Die Hard Tetralogy," I retorted.

We laughed and laughed.  In a strange way, I'm going to miss him.

I guess you can thank me and the writer of Live Free or Die Hard for the finding and killing of bin Laden.  Some may call us heroes but I agree with this quote from Live Free or Die Hard:

"You know what you get for being a hero? Nothin'. You get shot at. You get a little pat on the back, blah, blah, blah, attaboy. You get divorced. Your wife can't remember your last name. Your kids don't want to talk to you. You get to eat a lot of meals by yourself. Trust me, kid, nobody wants to be that guy."

Nobody's Hero




Live Free or Die Hard

— MOVIECLIPS.com

Turn Babies into Profit Today!

I'm so over babies.  What have babies ever contributed to society?  They don't have jobs, they don't wear pants, and they don't appreciate grammar.  Babies also can’t walk, think, or even hold down milk.  Why does milk always seem to burst forth like highly pressurized milk cannons whenever I am holding a baby?  It really isn’t that hard.  They also can’t hold in potty.  It is remarkable that parents will take the time to get them through this stage of life.  


Because babies are so useless, I've created a list of ways to use your baby or even the baby of a stranger, for personal gain.  The free ride is over babies.  It's time to work.


1.  Monkey Stunt Double

So you are making a high budget action movie and you have a stunt that is too dangerous for your leading monkey?  No problemo.  Hot glue some fur to a baby and let them ride the motorcycle into the burning building.  It they have trouble with balance, use green training wheels and use computer graphics to take them out in post.  Computer graphics have come a long way but they still can't convincingly create a monkey riding a motorcycle into a burning building.  Until that time, furry babies are the only option.


2.  Model

 
Is there anything more adorable than a baby in a bikini?  How about a full calendar full of bikini babies?  This means that at every photo shoot audition, there is a 1 in 12 chance your baby will be in the calendar (or something like that).  Those are good odds.  REMEMBER: there is no such thing as a baby showing too much skin.  It is only a recent phenomenon that children wear clothing.  Why do you think Andrew Jackson's nickname was "Old Hickory"?


3.  Baby Food Eater

I've never seen turkey that color. Or consistency.

Have you ever seen or smelled baby food?  It is disgusting.  No matter what the jar claims to contain, there is always a dirty yellow pudding-like substance inside.  Nobody in their right mind would want to consume this garbage except babies.  They'll put anything in their mouths.


4.  Boob Job
I think I saw on Dr. Oz that babies sometimes drink milk that comes out of women's breasts.  I know it sounds unbelievable but he's a doctor and probably knows.  Apparently, the milk makes the boobs grow.  That means as long as the baby is hungry, mommy's ta-tas will be full.  And I will be happy.

These used to be bras.

5. Chimney Sweep

He's already too old.

 
Far too often chimneys get dirty and need to be cleaned.  Yes, we have long sticks with brushes on the end, but that's not getting the deep clean that we need.  Small baby hands and bodies can get into every nook and cranny and makes sure that your chimney is super clean.  This is also why babies are good for enemas.


6. Cat Wrangler

Cats are practically wild animals.  I know they defecate in a box, but that is the only tame aspect of their behavior.  The rest of the time they are licking, hissing, and silently judging humans.  They need to be taught some respect.  Babies are perfect because they can easily ride cats.  I've recently learned that full grown adults should not try to ride cats.  Babies on the other hand, can.  It will take a little practice or some duct tape, but soon it will be a beautiful sight.  Babies are effective trainers because they aren't afraid to pull out clumps of fur or smack cats in the face.  Babies are very mean.  You also don't need to buy a saddle because diapers are pretty padded.


Turn your babies into babie$ today!

Real Conversation Today

The following is a real conversation that I had while working at Target.

Me: Can I help you find something?

Lady: Yeah, I'm looking for a going away card.

Me: Hmm. I'm not sure if we have those.

Lady: It's for my nephew.  He's going to Disney World.

Me: Oh that's very exciting!  I love Disney World.

Lady: It's his Make-A-Wish.  He's going to die.

Me: ...

Thoughts that Occurred to Me as I Watched my Dog Lick Her Butthole

I was recently astounded and disgusted with my dog's behavior.  She likes to lick her butthole.  For a dog, this may not seem that strange, but for me, as I watched her for over 5 minutes continuing this act, I had many thoughts.  Those thoughts are listed below.

There she goes again.  This is getting old.  I wonder what it tastes like.  It must taste good because she seems to like the flavor.  What if everyone's butthole tasted really good?  It would be like in the Wonka factory when they tried that lickable wallpaper.  "The snozzberries taste like snozzberries."  That would be in the perverted version, where Wonka owned a night club.  The Oompa Loompas would do more than just harvest teacup flowers, if you know what I mean.

Maybe she doesn't do it for the taste.  Maybe it's actually a soothing thing.  It could be the dog equivalent of chapstick or Vick's Vaporub.  Her butthole could be on fire and the only thing to stop the blaze is the gently lappings of her tongue. 

Is the slurping sound really necessary?  I truly believe that if she was doing this in exactly the same manner but there was no slurping noise, I wouldn't be that repulsed.  Sure it's sick and I don't want her near me, but if she was quiet she wouldn't be drawing attention to herself.  She wouldn't be sounding the trumpets and raising banners that proudly proclaim, "I can't get enough of this thing."  I also get the sense that she is mocking me.  Each slurp seems to remind me that I could never perform this maneuver, no matter how hard I try.


Looks like she's done...

Nope.  False alarm.  How does she have this much energy?  If I eat a good amount of taffy my tongue gets really tired.  If this was a marathon, she would be a Kenyan.  Now I am almost proud that she is my dog.  She has strength of character and a good head on her shoulders.

That'll do, dog.  That'll do.

New Jobs for Charlie Sheen

It's a rare thing but Charlie Sheen has been pretty funny recently.  He's doing interviews and badmouthing all of his haters.  I think the humor is unintentional but the man knows how to be funny as evidenced in the hit program, Two and a Half Men.  Charlie probably won't be returning to prime time ever but I have a few suggestions for the Sheen Machine's new career.

1.  Porn Star
This is really a no brainer.  It combines two of Charlie's passions: porn stars and thinking very highly of himself.  Charlie Sheen already sounds like a good porn name and Two and a Half Men would make an excellent gay midget spoof.

Now on Blu Ray!

2.  Alcoholic Energy Drink Spokesman
Charlie Sheen could be the Billy Mays of alcoholic energy drinks.  In addition to having the energy and party lifestyle, kids could go out on the weekends and get completely Sheened®.

3. VH1 Star
Brett Michaels climbed the fame ladder from perverted B-list reality star to lovable recognizable pervert.  Sheen can follow Brett's example and ride around in a bus and get herpes. Then go on the Celebrity Apprentice.

4.  Homeless
Sheen already has the voice for it.  Smoking two packs a day certainly takes a toll on the ol' chords, just add a paper bag with a half empty bottle of whiskey and you have a convincing homeless dude.

5. America's Sweetheart
Unlikely.

6.  Birthday Clown

Likely.

7.  Mel Gibson's Personal Assistant
A good way to stay out of the public eye is to go wherever Mel Gibson is hiding.  Also hanging with Gibson makes you seem a lot less antisemitic.

8. Oscar Host
Why buy the milk when you can get the milk straight from the horses mouth.  This isn't an expression and yet it almost makes sense.  Sheen jokes are abundant.  Instead of hearing them second hand from James Franco and Anne Hathaway, let's throw Charlie up there.  He can't be any worse than them.

America's Game

The Super Bowl is as American as using an Apple Pie for target practice and as awesome as David Lee Roth arm wrestling a mountain lion.  In other words, it is a spectacle that I never want to miss.  Two things we value in America are violence and money.  The super bowl combines those with two other American things: unhealthy food and the objectification of women.  That's what I call prime time entertainment for the whole family! 

I don't know how to say this so I'll just blurt it out: I didn't watch the Super Bowl.  I didn't see the commercials, the Black Eyed Peas, or Christina Aguilera.  I guess there was also a football game in between that I missed.  Before you call the House Un-American Activities Committee, I still like big trucks and hometown values.

This brings me to my Super Bowl highlight brought to you by Bridgestone Doritos.  When you want reliable snacks, you want Bridgestone Doritos: Now with Lemon!

Many patriots are upset that Christina Aguilera made a mistake while singing the National Anthem.  I have to agree with Joan Rivers.  "Last night, Christina Aguilera wore black while singing the national anthem. Black is suing her for defamation -- it's supposed to be slimming."  Thanks Joan for that topical and relevant opinion.  Everyone is talking about Christina because of what she was wearing.  Her performance was perfect and her creative lyrics added to the excitement of the game.

I guess some people didn't like the Black Eyed Peas performance.  I thought Fergie's humps were satisfactory and the robot that was filling in for will.i.am only had a few malfunctions.  The real problem was the show was too safe.  Where was the Rolling Stones F bomb or the Paul McCartney wardrobe malfunction?  I can't wait till next year when Lady Gaga sacrifices Joe Buck while singing Poker Face with David Bowie.  It will be memorable.

Obviously I am upset with the outcome.  It was a lose lose situation.  On the one hand there is a Packers victory.  This means a constant bragging about the Lombardi trophy from warm cheese breath.  On the other hand, a Steelers victory gives rape a new spokesperson.  (Allegedly.)

Finally, I think the most American thing is to promise people something and then steal it from them.  Having 1200 ticketholders get booted from their seats is a classic throwback to the days when Native Americans had places to live.  Somewhere in a 1908 Studebaker-Garford B limousine Jay Leno is smiling.

Five Snow Tips

As I sit here and type, I wait for the inevitable time when the power will go out and I am left here to freeze and then die slowly like a lizard.

For those of you who don't live here or in the giant snowhole, the graphic below should help.

This simple map shows just how bad this snownami is.  It has the potential to be the worst in recorded Chicagoland history and is the only time that snow has ever been purple.  That's why many in the weather industry are calling it The Great Bieber Blizzard of '11.

Many people know that Justin Bieber's favorite color is purple (duh, obviously).  The creation of many Justin Bieber collectibles and tour shirts has increased the USA's production of purple dye.  The toxins escape and we are left with Hurricane Bieber. 

The goal of this blog is certainly not to point fingers at a 16 year old Canadian pop-R&B singer.  This blog's primary goal is to complain and provide helpful tips for people in similar situations.  If you want to come out of this snowpocalypse with minimum snowstruction, just listen to snow.. I mean me.

1. Don't Panic

Sure people on TV are calling it snowmageddon and it could break records and trap you in your house.  Sure it could shut down the power and make roads difficult to bring food and supplies to your town.  It sounds scary but it's just hype.  It's like the shake-weight.  Nobody actually believes doing those ridiculous motions will make you strong.  It is just clever marketing.

2. Don't Shovel
There are lots of reasons to not shovel: it's cold, you could injure yourself, and there are things called snow-blowers.  If you have no choice but to shovel, find someone else to do it.  If you are a parent, have your child do it.  If you are a child, have the neighborhood penguin do it.  If you are a penguin, get a snow-blower.

3. Never Eat Snow

I cannot stress this one enough.  NEVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES EAT THE SNOW.  I don't care if it is fresh from the sky.  I don't care if it makes you really happy.  DO NOT DO IT.  The problem with eating snow that has touched the ground is that the ground is dirty.  Even when you look at the whitest snow there is danger.  It may appear on the surface to be a delicious low calorie snack but it is completely possible that that snow landed on a piece of poop and when you stick your face into it, you get a nasty surprise.  Then all the kids at the bus stop laugh at you and Suzy definitely doesn't want to kiss you any more.  Your nickname becomes Poop Lick and you have to drop out of elementary school and you end up working at Target and writing a stupid blog about snow.  Don't make that mistake.

4. Snow Angels

Snow angels were never cool or fun.  FACT: 98% of snow angels are created by people who have fallen and cannot get up.  They just lay there struggling while people walk by and assume that everything is ok.  Snow angels are what boring people do in the snow for fun.  Instead of skiing or building a snowpenis in their friend's front yard, boring people lay down and make a snow angel.  When they are done they shrug and go inside and drink decaf coffee and nap.  Don't be stupid.

5. Yell at Kids

There is nothing more annoying than the sounds of children having fun on a snow day while you are trying to sleep.  Kids shouldn't be awake before noon on a day off.  They should be asleep or watching Nick Jr.  That means that you have every right to yell at them if they bother you.  Obviously yelling "Get off my lawn" is not appropriate but here are a few phrases that will work great.  "Don't touch my snow."  "I hope your snowfort is strong enough to stop my Dodge Stratus at 36 mph."  "I'm going to shove this icicle up your ass."  "I am not afraid to go back to prison."  If none of these work just drive your Dodge Stratus (or other sedan) into their fort.  That'll show those bastards.

I hope these tips will keep you alive as the snolocaust continues its snowvalanche on the country.  Snowtergate

Bears/Packers

The rivalry between the Chicago Bears and the Green Bay Packers has defined my childhood.  Living practically on the border of Wisconsin and Illinois, I had friends who were discriminated against not because of their skin color or religious preference.  Instead they were judged by the color or their Sunday fan-wear.  Blue and orange meant that we could be friends and green and yellow meant that you weren't allowed to sit on furniture at my house.

With the stakes of the weekend's game being higher than ever, the negativity between the two sides has become unBEARable.  I am overwhelmed with the amount of facebook updates showing graphically what an actual bear in heat would do to an innocent Packer player.  First of all bears should not be allowed at our sporting events and that becomes even more important if they are in heat.  Pictures like these are a sad reminder that even though the Bears will win by a significant margin, we don't need to stoop to this reminder of terrible events in the NFL's past, when team mascots were actual animals.

From the Packers fans I've repeatedly seen the following photograph.

First of all, real clever.  It was really cool the way you took an actual picture from a game and then noticed how it almost looked like something inappropriate and illegal was happening on the field.  Great job!  Learn to photoshop.  Second this picture is old.  Grossman?  Come on.  That would be like Bears fans making penis picture references to you (although those would be really funny.)  Try something like this.

Now that's how you make fun of the other team.  It almost looks like the baby really is wearing a helmet.  The caption also makes sure that even Packers fans will get it.  It's also timeless.  I think Sackman's picture will be around forever.

This brings me to my point: let's not make fun of each other.  Sure I could fill this blog with some more pictures like the ones below.

That was just a simple search.  There were many many more showing how bad the Packers are when compared to the Bears.  What we need to remember is that there are many more things that we have in common.  It's all about perspective.  In the grand scheme of things, the game means very little.  Yes, we can all agree that the Bears will destroy the Packers, but do we need graphic depictions of rape or decapitation?  No.  We don't.  Let's be friends and keep in perspective what American Football is all about: beer and nachos.

Back to School

Learning can be a way for an unemployed person to enjoy personal growth and feel like less of a failure.  That's why I went back to school.  I didn't go to a regular boring school though.  Instead I joined Second City, a place where the immature and silly people join forces.

When I arrived at the training center, I rode the escalator slowly past a giant wall.  My heart filled with excitement as I saw some of the famous graduates:  Norm from Cheers, Chris Farley, and Bill Murray, to name a few.   I wondered if I would meet people in my classes that would one day be displayed on the incredibly funny wall.  I imagine that the feelings that I felt as I slowly ascended towards the heavens were what it must be like for a nerd when he first walks through Harvard or a lonely person at a strip club.  I was nervous, scared, excited, and unfortunately still hungover from the night before.

For those who don't know, Second City is the place where many comedic greats have learned and practiced the craft of improv and humor.  With all of my extra free time, I decided to enroll in two classes: writing and improv.  

The writing class was first and I felt pretty comfortable going into it.  I have taken writing classes and am pretty comfortable hiding behind my desk and notebook. The class consisted of a few exercises (writing not physical) and some attempts at storytelling.  It was fun and I may have made a friend.

Then came my fear, improv.  Improv has scared me for a long time.  I am the type of person that likes to have (or at least think I have) control in my humor.  (I also enjoy bossing people around just to see if they will do some of the things I say.)  I have a fear of dying on stage. 

My fears turned to dust though as my skilled teacher coaxed me out of my shyness and embarrassment of pretending to be or do something that I am not.  By the end I was imagining that I was actually holding an egg or that I really was a woman from the 18th Century.  I certainly have a loooooooong way to go to be a good improviser and I am sad to say that I am not the funniest in the class although I got one laugh in the 2 and a half hours.

It was interesting to me the different types of people that were in each class.  In writing, the students seemed a little bit different or odd.  Some were artsy and some were afraid to be out in daylight and public.  I don't want to say socially awkward but perhaps misunderstood and thoughtful would apply.  On the other hand, we had the improvisers.  Most of them seemed more energetic and more social.  These were the people that thought they were funny, but there were also people that admitted they weren't funny and they were there to loosen up and become less serious.  If I had to say which category I fell into I would say I am probably closer to the writing side.  I was quieter than many of the improv folks and much more comfortable writing than acting.  Hopefully I will become balanced somewhere in between (but obviously keeping some extra awkwardness.)

Being at Second City is like being at a small college except everybody is funnier than you and they actually enjoy going to class.  Even though everyone there is funnier, everyone is also happier because this is exactly what they want to be doing.  It's not like when I had to take Intro to Botany to fulfill my science credit.  Classes are fun and the best part is we don't get grades.

I should have done this a long time ago.

Resolutions for a New Year

Far too often, people set their resolutions too high and then wind up disappointed.  Let's face it, you aren't going to work out once a week.  Only professional athletes and Kelly Ripa do that.  That's why my resolutions are made easy so that I will accomplish them.

1. Create New Years Resolution Blog Post

2.  Gain additional weight

3.  Get out of bed every morning

4.  Only laugh like Fran Drescher

5. Take more "me" time

6.  Read Less

7.  Refer to myself in the third person or get people to call me a cool nickname like "The Duke"

8.  Don't return any phonecalls

9.  Facebook more

10.  Watch movies that I've previously seen and be surprised by the ending

11. Stop lying about knowing Tom Cruise or get to know Tom Cruise

12.  Increase efforts to fund personal mission to Mars

13.  Stop using the phrase, "Don't go there, girlfriend"
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The Origin of my Pajamas: A Defense of the Footed Variety

Having graduated with a degree in Rhetoric, I like to think that I know a thing or two about persuasion.  For those of you who don't know what this subject is all about I will provide Aristotle's definition.  He says that rhetoric is "the ability, in each particular case, to see the available means of persuasion."

Because of my thorough knowledge of this subject I know that there are many ways to persuade and manipulate others into agreement.  An effective rhetorician would be able to easily see and use the various means, but a poor rhetorician will cause these methods to backfire.  (Perhaps my rhetoric failings are the reason I haven't been able to persuade employers to hire me.)


This brings me to my house (and pjs).  At night my roommates (some would say parents) like to keep the house at a temperature that is most suitable for arctic wildlife.  Because my body is not covered in a thick layer of well-insulated fur, I was generally cold at night, especially my feet.  I had been wearing socks to bed almost every night and losing precious hours of sleep needed for my long days of doing nothing and rarely blogging. 


When my parents (roommates) asked what I wanted for Christmas, I said that I didn't want much,, but that I did want footie pajamas because the temperature in the house is so cold at night.  Here is where the rhetoric was supposed to come into play.  I asked for the pajamas not because I wanted them, but because I wanted my parents to know that I was so cold at night that I was willing to wear a ridiculous outfit to bed.  They were supposed to say we don't want our son to look foolish, let's just turn the heat up a little bit.


Then this happens.

At first I was skeptical.  I thought footie pajamas were worn by people who want attention and won't grow up.  Even though I fit both these requirements, I still thought that wearing these pajamas was over the top and stupid.  Then I realized that they actually were the perfect solution.  I used to need 3 blankets and socks and was still very cold.  Now I have one blanket and I feel great!  The whole thing is like a giant Snuggie.  All environmentalists and Eskimos should wear   The only critique that I really have is the butt flap.  I don't know any adult that would really want to poop through the fabric slit.  A normal butt flap would be ok but I have a strange velcro butt slit.  It always pops open requiring me to wear underwear.

Standard

Slit

I'll let you know when I poop through them.