Big Blacks

I was walking down a side street the other day, and was about to cross to the other side when I saw two, 6'4"-ish, jacked black dudes walking towards me on my side of the street.  So, I held off on crossing the street and stayed on the same side until we passed each other because I know racist people have been known to cross the street when they see "dark" people coming their way, and I didn't want these guys to feel uncomfortable.  Does that mean I'm racist or highly empathetic?  (Because I feel like I'm often preoccupied with other people's comfort levels.)

But then I thought, "Wait!  Why should I have to carry other people's white guilt if my family was all in Eastern Europe during Slavery, then being butchered in the Holocaust, and then being discriminated against alongside black people right here in America prior to the Civil Rights Movement?!" 

But I guess that's why moderate Muslims who have never wronged anyone might feel compelled to be extra affable to compensate for their retarded, extremist brethren.  When you're a member of a group that includes high-profile assholes, it kind of falls on you to dispel popular misconception.  Accordingly, I always tip well . . . because I'm a Jew . . . unless the service was just awful, because they need to learn a lesson.  What am I, made of money?  Oy.

Traffic: Solved! . . . Partially

A few mornings ago, there were three different old people badly holding up rush-hour traffic at three separate junctures.  Like, severely fucking up the flow of traffic for everyone involved.  Now, I used to be all for keeping the elderly off the roads altogether, but I recognize that's unrealistic, impractical, and probably unfair.  (I still propose mandatory annual driving tests for anyone 70 and over, though.)

Anyway, this recent experience inspired a solution that I think could work: old people can't drive during morning and evening rush hours.  Simple and elegant.  It unclogs the roads at the busiest driving times and causes less stress for those older drivers who can't really handle busy roads at those high-traffic hours.  Whereas in the past, they might've been embarrassed to admit to being overwhelmed by the bustling activity of rush hour, now they'd have the perfect out, "I wish I could drive there now, but it's against the law!  My hands are tied."  Win-win.  Winning...

Women Are OBSESSED!

An unenlightening article.  Oh, women like being ignored?  Thanks for the news flash, assholes.  Now stop misallocating resources, and go invest that money in inventing condoms that don't deaden your penis nerves...

Best line: "The authors believe psychologists have underestimated the effects of a woman’s obsessing."

Here's the article: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/13/fashion/13Studied.html?ref=fashion

(Thanks, Nads...)

Impish Imps

I was in Starbucks the other day and it was lousy with maniacal children.  One was trying to steal his mom's phone, and she kept holding it up and away from him as he jumped and screamed, instead of just smacking him like she should have; another was repeatedly smashing his toy into the table while his terrible father remained criminally silent; and then a third spawn of Satan knocked over the entire display rack of gift cards, VIA packets, and CD's.

Prognosis for the odds I will one day procreate: bleaker by the second.

Poor Parenting

If you're a girl, and you have a name that should end in "y," but ends in "i" . . . your parents did you a huge disservice.  They effed up.  Things will probably not go well for you . . . Brandi, Staci, Brittani, Traci, etc...

Marla Hooch...What A Hitter!

On my most recent flight from NY to LA, the two flight attendants in my section were Chris Farley and Marla Hooch.  Seriously, there needs to be some sort of size limit for this position, because if you can't walk through the aisle without shattering my scapula, even when my shoulder is not protruding into the aisle...then you're too big for your job.  Sorry.

If you absolutely feel you need to be in a job that prizes diffusion of responsibility and lacks human warmth and compassion, while still allowing you to be unhealthily overweight, may I suggest postal worker? . . . Or bank teller, or TSA employee, or a whole host of other bureaucratic  positions in local or federal government...

Best Clip EVER

Caught this one on The Soup a couple weeks back.  This might be my favorite clip ever in the history of the show.  (Watch it while you can; not sure how long it'll last up on YouTube):

Wanna Share A Cab?

My buddy was telling me about how he was out a couple weekends ago, and he and our other friend left the bar at the end of the night, and met a couple of also-drunk girls on the street, who proceeded to get in a cab with them to go to an undisclosed location of my friends' choosing.  We were marveling at how trusting girls can be in those situations (as I've often wondered before: http://iamthecurmudgeon.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-like-challenge.html).  My retard friends happen to be pretty good guys; these inebriated ladies were doomed to nothing worse than a morning of minor self-loathing and shame.  But how do you get in a cab with a couple of guys you met on the street just seconds earlier?! 

Anyway, the rest of the conversation went like this:

ME: Can you imagine if the people we were sexually interested in were physically stronger than us?!  I'd never trust anyone; I'd be scared all the time!

FRIEND: I wouldn't.  Because I'd want them to rape me.

Fashion Tip

If your fat rises and wraps around your bra straps...then I shouldn't be seeing them when you go out.  Simple.

Enjoy my artwork...

Funny Pics from My Bro

My little brother has a blog on which he posts many pictures (http://njfromnj.tumblr.com/).  I can't keep up, nor do I particularly care to...but there's some pretty funny stuff up there.  It's his birthday today, so in his honor, here are my three most recent favorites:

And...

And, probably the best picture I've ever seen...



HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BROTHER!

Carolla Steals My Shit

I had a rant all planned out about rescue animals, but then my friend sent me this link to some bloviating by Adam Carolla, in which that very subject matter is broached.  I can't, in good conscience, write the same stuff now that I know it's been done, so I'll at least let you enjoy his version: http://blogs.menshealth.com/whats-wrong-with-men/guys-i-cant-hang-out-with/2011/02/19/

You Think The Honey Badger Cares?

I've been obsessed with this video for weeks.  You will thank me for this.  If you don't find this funny, you're probably not human . . . or just not funny, yourself (if you're getting this via email, do yourself the favor and go to the actual site so you can watch):



Okay, bonus videos...

Vampire bats:



Great whites:



(Thank you, Wexies!)

We're Not So Different, You And I...

I look at women the same way they look at babies and puppies: Awww, I want that!  But then, once I get it home, I realize it's way more responsibility than I was ready for.  So why do women pretend to not understand men's desire for variety?

How about another analogy: shoes.  I know it's cliche, but women love shopping for, and purchasing, new shoes.  They have a perfectly good pair at home, but that doesn't curb their desire for new and different ones.  Get it?  Neither party has to act on these desires in either scenario, but that doesn't preculde said desires' existences. 

To be fair, buying new shoes usually does not result in the emotional crushification of another human being.

At Least I'm Not A Kid Diddler

You know what I realized the other day?  I generally won't jaywalk if there are kids around.  Just in case they're not paying any attention (which is pretty much their default setting) and run out into the street because they peripherally see me start to go.

See, I'm not all bad.  Life is like prison; there's a hierarchy.  Like, in a prison of murderers and thieves, they can still find the moral high ground to pass judgment on the lowly child molesters . . . and rape them.

"Real" Ingredients. Sure.

I hate these Domino's Pizza commercials where there's a Q&A session with "real" people, when suddenly, the walls collapse and reveal a lush lea where Domino's ingredients are supposedly grown.  The test group members are utterly shocked by what they see . . . but . . . did they fucking teleport there?  Wouldn't they have noticed the vast acreage of farmland when they pulled up to get paid in free-pizza coupons for answering questions about delivery fast food?  I'm not buyin' it.  Here's one of the commercials:

Counter-Insurgency

I hate when you pay for something, and you hand the cashier your credit card, and they swipe the card and then put it on the counter instead of handing it back to you.  If I hand you something that's mine, for temporary use, you hand it back to me.  You don't put it down on an other-people's-filth-encrusted, wet, sticky counter top.  That's just rude!  Next we'll work on eye contact and saying "you're welcome."

Shooting Oneself in the Foot

One downside of writing an unfiltered, stream-of-consciousness blog is that it prevents your exes from ever having a chance to miss you.  You know that dark side of you that secretly hopes your ex-gee-effs-slash-bee-effs will die miserable and alone never having ever gotten fully over you? . . . No?  Just me? . . . Tough crowd . . .

Anyway, I feel like this blog allows my ex-girlfriends to enjoy my humor without having to sleep with my marginally-above-average (?) physique.  In fact, not only will they not have the opportunity to miss me while over-idealizing the times we shared, there's a strong argument to be made that this blog actually, specifically reminds them of all the things that really annoyed them about me in the first place!

So, again . . . you're welcome!

Robin Hood That Shit!

You know how when celebrities go to restaurants, or bars, or clubs, they get treated like royalty and are often comped?  I take issue with this.  Why is the wealthiest, most successful person in the establishment getting his/her shit for free?  It's insulting.

So I propose the following: every time a rich and famous person dines out and the management would have covered his/her tab, one lucky table of other, regular diners gets its meal on the house, and the celebrity, who now pays for his own meal, gets the credit.  Like, "Gentlemen, your meal is on the house this evening, courtesy of young Master Bieber..."  Bieber tips his fresh-out-of-the-box purple Yankees cap to you, you nod back...  Everyone wins in this scenario!  The randomly selected table enjoys a surprise gift, the rich dude feels good about himself, and restaurant management probably ends up covering a cheaper tab because the comped patrons didn't know their meal was going to be free prior to ordering, while also drumming up a little extra business with a new gimmick... Whaddaya think?!

Then again, maybe people who haven't done anything special enough to be rich and recognized don't deserve a free ride...those useless, faceless, sycophantic leeches...

(Just so yous know, I wrote this post BEFORE I found the accompanying picture.  I had no idea Bieber had a purple Yankees hat.  That was just supposed to be a joke.)

The End of the NFL...For A While?

In light of the NFL season coming to a close, and especially given the looming threat of an increasingly likely lockout, I want to post some comments Hines Ward made prior to the Super Bowl because, while I don't particularly like the Steelers (too rapey), I like that Ward usually speaks pretty candidly about the hypocrisies of the League's administration.  Also, I think he has a very strong point here.  For context, NFL players were shown an instructional video outlining the new guidelines regarding what types of hits are appropriate, and which ones are illegal and therefore subject to heavy fines/suspensions.  Those guidelines are notoriously ambiguous, and the fines levied, very player-specific (though often deservedly, given certain players' histories).

Here's what Ward said: "Man, nobody paid attention to that video. We don’t know what they want. They’re so hypocritical sometimes. They came out with these new helmets that are supposed to stop concussions. If they care so much about our safety, why don’t they mandate that we wear the new ones? If they’re so worried about what concussions will do to us after our careers, then guarantee our insurance for life. And if you’re going to fine me for a hit, let the money go to veteran guys to help with their medical issues. To say the league really cares? They don’t give a fuck about concussions. And now they want to add on two extra games? Are you kidding?"

Doesn't bode well for next season...

Re: NFL Punt Returns...

How does someone not die on every punt return?!