Matty the Mainer was in town the other day with Good Times, his two-year old son that he erroneously adopted from the Cote d'Ivoire. He had a bruise under his left eye and some scrapes on his elbows. Matty, not his kid.
"What the hell did you do?" I said.
"Well, remember when I told you that I've stopped playing Ball in urban areas because I can't really be me: a slashing five-foot-seven two-guard?"
I did remember that, and it was true. One time I watched him play a half-court four-on-four game, where he compiled 6 points, 8 boards, 7 dimes, and 2 steals, while covering the shortest guy on the other team, a dude six-feet tall. A slightly undersized center who played Div II college Ball that was on his team got all the credit for their win, but Matty definitely did all the dirty work.
"So what was your solution?"
"Upper class neighborhoods."
"You beat up on rich guys?"
"You bet. They look at me and think that at my height, I'm the one guy they've gotta be better than. I can lose them all day with my up-fake, break their ankles with a simple hesitation dribble, and I straight kill them with my deceptive speed to the hoop. Not only that, but these low-rent business cats don't know how to block out. I find the nearest slightly doughy guy whose balding and rocking the knee brace, and I pop him in the gut with my forearm."
"So if you're so dominant, why the battle wounds?"
"The shiner came when I ducked a steal attempt. The guy's hand was at my cheek level, and I just plowed through it. The elbow scrapes came from when I took a charge; the guy felt so bad he knocked me over, he stopped in front of me every time after that to avoid another collision."
Good Times got a hold of the lemon I was putting in my tea, and he bit it and made a funny face.
"I know, Good Times, that's what I think of your daddy too."
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Prosciutto Happiness
Gwen, the Cappie, told me the new Will Smith movie, Pursuit of Happyness, is supposed to be great.
"Prosciutto Happiness?"
"No, pursuit, what the hell is Prosciutto Happiness?"
"It's a movie that's coming out in limited release about an Italian chef and his three daughters."
"No it isn't, you're making that up."
"And you're making up the fact that a paint-by-numbers, rags-to-riches, tug-at-the-heartstrings, annoy-the-piss-out-of-me Will Smith vehicle is considered anything more than that by any self-respecting film critic."
I was wrong, Richard Roeper said it was good, so we went. And he was wrong... dead wrong. I had to take three showers after watching it, it was that bad.
Of course, I was wrong about Prosciutto Happiness as well. Just because a film's in Italian doesn't mean it's Fellini. Gwen and I gave up and watched my copy of Chronicles of Riddick on DVD; the original, not the Director's Cut.
"Prosciutto Happiness?"
"No, pursuit, what the hell is Prosciutto Happiness?"
"It's a movie that's coming out in limited release about an Italian chef and his three daughters."
"No it isn't, you're making that up."
"And you're making up the fact that a paint-by-numbers, rags-to-riches, tug-at-the-heartstrings, annoy-the-piss-out-of-me Will Smith vehicle is considered anything more than that by any self-respecting film critic."
I was wrong, Richard Roeper said it was good, so we went. And he was wrong... dead wrong. I had to take three showers after watching it, it was that bad.
Of course, I was wrong about Prosciutto Happiness as well. Just because a film's in Italian doesn't mean it's Fellini. Gwen and I gave up and watched my copy of Chronicles of Riddick on DVD; the original, not the Director's Cut.
Vietnamese Deer Meat
My man Joey Fatone, formerly of *NSYNC, was in town, and we went out and grabbed some Vietnamese food in Chinatown. I ordered a beef and lemongrass dish, and he ordered a Pho soup. My beef tasted off, though.
"This is deer meat, not beef," I said.
"You mean venison?"
"What're you correcting me? They're two terms that mean the same thing."
"Well, do you call pork Pig Meat?"
"Don't be an asshole. The point is that my beef was substituted with deer meat. I mean, it still tastes good, but it's a little disconcerting that they'd think they could pull a fast one on me like that."
"Here, I'll take care of it."
He called over one of the waiters and questioned him in Vietnamese. I have no idea what he said, but before I knew it, we were standing up and some more wait staff were taking our dishes for us. We were led out of our cramped dining area into a large, open room, populated by a few scattered Asians. We sat and were given the best of everything.
"What the hell did you do, man?"
"My secret baby... and if you're wondering, yes, your beef dish was venison. One of the staff went hunting a month ago and bagged him a doe. They figured they could pass it off on unsuspecting Caucasian patrons. Good taste buds."
"It's still called deer meat."
"This is deer meat, not beef," I said.
"You mean venison?"
"What're you correcting me? They're two terms that mean the same thing."
"Well, do you call pork Pig Meat?"
"Don't be an asshole. The point is that my beef was substituted with deer meat. I mean, it still tastes good, but it's a little disconcerting that they'd think they could pull a fast one on me like that."
"Here, I'll take care of it."
He called over one of the waiters and questioned him in Vietnamese. I have no idea what he said, but before I knew it, we were standing up and some more wait staff were taking our dishes for us. We were led out of our cramped dining area into a large, open room, populated by a few scattered Asians. We sat and were given the best of everything.
"What the hell did you do, man?"
"My secret baby... and if you're wondering, yes, your beef dish was venison. One of the staff went hunting a month ago and bagged him a doe. They figured they could pass it off on unsuspecting Caucasian patrons. Good taste buds."
"It's still called deer meat."
Mads: I'm Changing My Name to Susan
I was rocking out in our hotel suite to My Chemical Romance's "I'm Not Okay", when Abdul Karim came in and turned down the music.
"I'm changing my name to Susan."
"Any particular reason?"
"Yes, my current name, Abdul Karim, is very bad given this anti-Islamic climate... a name change would do me some good."
I thought about it for a second... what if a bunch of Norwegians committed some heinous acts of terrorism in the name of the Norwegian Lutheran Church, creating a firestorm of hatred from the Western World targeted at anyone that could potentially be a Norwegian...
Yes, I too would change my name to Susan to maintain my current way of life.
"I'm changing my name to Susan."
"Any particular reason?"
"Yes, my current name, Abdul Karim, is very bad given this anti-Islamic climate... a name change would do me some good."
I thought about it for a second... what if a bunch of Norwegians committed some heinous acts of terrorism in the name of the Norwegian Lutheran Church, creating a firestorm of hatred from the Western World targeted at anyone that could potentially be a Norwegian...
Yes, I too would change my name to Susan to maintain my current way of life.
A Nifty Grinchy Idea
So Gwen, the Cappie, was over to my place, and she was checking her MySpace on my computer. I noticed that even though she's a she, she still gets ads for dating services targeted towards men. I asked her about it.
"Yeah, I guess they just make them for guys, and they end up on our pages too. I don't really get it."
"You an' me both sistah."
My gears began turning. I called a buddy I knew who was an expert in website design. Then I went to a near by strip club that catered to women with my digital camera. Then I contacted MySpace to try and work out a deal for my new company. They said it may be somewhat complicated to separate the men and the women for ads, but they liked it, considering the money I was offering them.
Within a week my dating service, Fish in the Sea, was up and thriving. Now, instead of getting hot women advertising for male oriented dating services, Gwen and others like her (i.e. females) were getting buff, tanned, half-naked dudes on their MySpace.
I had one problem, though: I didn't actually get any guys for the dating service. So women were sighing up, looking for the guys in the ads, and they had no profiles to look at. I had Gwen go to the comic book shops and sci-fi stores she hangs out at to get me some guys, and she did. Needless to say, this didn't go over too well. An ad with a perfectly cut dude opening an expensive bottle of wine did not translate to a guy with a 47" waist, a splotchy beard, and a pony tail, who likes 2 liter bottles of Mountain Dew and lists his crowning achievement as having waited in line for 6 weeks to get tickets to a Star Wars movie.
I was lucky to get my initial investment back, and MySpace went back to giving women ads targeted toward men.
"Yeah, I guess they just make them for guys, and they end up on our pages too. I don't really get it."
"You an' me both sistah."
My gears began turning. I called a buddy I knew who was an expert in website design. Then I went to a near by strip club that catered to women with my digital camera. Then I contacted MySpace to try and work out a deal for my new company. They said it may be somewhat complicated to separate the men and the women for ads, but they liked it, considering the money I was offering them.
Within a week my dating service, Fish in the Sea, was up and thriving. Now, instead of getting hot women advertising for male oriented dating services, Gwen and others like her (i.e. females) were getting buff, tanned, half-naked dudes on their MySpace.
I had one problem, though: I didn't actually get any guys for the dating service. So women were sighing up, looking for the guys in the ads, and they had no profiles to look at. I had Gwen go to the comic book shops and sci-fi stores she hangs out at to get me some guys, and she did. Needless to say, this didn't go over too well. An ad with a perfectly cut dude opening an expensive bottle of wine did not translate to a guy with a 47" waist, a splotchy beard, and a pony tail, who likes 2 liter bottles of Mountain Dew and lists his crowning achievement as having waited in line for 6 weeks to get tickets to a Star Wars movie.
I was lucky to get my initial investment back, and MySpace went back to giving women ads targeted toward men.
I Was Attacked by Taylor Hicks
That's right, I was assaulted by the American Idol stand-out. I was at a bar in a small New Hampshire town, having just come from an exclusive brunch with Barack Obama and about thirty other people. At the bar, I made my way over to the box of juke, and found the most amazing song ever: Billy Ocean's "Loverboy".
As the song started, I turned to the bar to signal the bartender to pour me another mimosa, when I was tackled from behind. I tried to get back up, but this figure was upon me, reigning blows. It was Taylor Hicks... only it wasn't...
It looked like him, only bigger, and greener. His gray blazer was torn to the point that it was only a tiny vest on his gross pectoral muscles. Someone scooped me under the armpits and dragged me out into the parking lot. It was Randy.
"Damn it, dawg, why did you have to do that?"
"Do what?"
"Whenever someone plays "Loverboy" in front of Taylor Hicks, it sparks this uncontrollable rage. You're lucky to be alive."
"That's hot."
As the song started, I turned to the bar to signal the bartender to pour me another mimosa, when I was tackled from behind. I tried to get back up, but this figure was upon me, reigning blows. It was Taylor Hicks... only it wasn't...
It looked like him, only bigger, and greener. His gray blazer was torn to the point that it was only a tiny vest on his gross pectoral muscles. Someone scooped me under the armpits and dragged me out into the parking lot. It was Randy.
"Damn it, dawg, why did you have to do that?"
"Do what?"
"Whenever someone plays "Loverboy" in front of Taylor Hicks, it sparks this uncontrollable rage. You're lucky to be alive."
"That's hot."
That Smug Bastard
This was it, our big moment for my boy Hubert Humphrey. He was going on Meet the Press with Tim Russert. It didn't quite go the way we planned, though.
"Hello, everyone," Tim Said. "I'm joined right now by former Minnesota senator Hubert Humphrey, who has just thrown his hat into the 2008 presidential race, and his campaign manager, who is sitting next to him here. Welcome to both of you gentlemen. I want to start with... aren't you dead?"
"I was Tim, but the Democratic party needed me, so I was brought back to life. Not a bad deal, you know?"
"I guess not..."
They discussed the current issues facing the US and why Hube thinks he's better qualified to deal with them. Then Russert mentioned the Hamilton-Baker commission. That's when things went downhill.
"The what? The Hamilton, Joe, Frank, and Reynolds?"
"Um... Hube, I think it's Hamilton, Joe Frank, and Reynolds," I said.
"The guys who did "Don't Pull Your Love Out on Me Baby", right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, what did I say?"
"You said Hamilton, Joe, Frank, and Reynolds, but there's no pause between the Joe and the Frank. Joe Frank is one person."
"What the hell kind of name is that?"
"Guys, let's get back on track here. The question I was getting at is should the Democrats be hiding behind Baker-Hamilton when they said..."
"You know what the Democrats should be worried about? Pulling those damn misleading Apple computer commercials off the air."
Now I was confused. Where was he going with this?
"Man, I saw that commercial where that smug little bastard that's playing the Apple tells the PC guy that digital cameras only work well with Macs, so I get one. But then I need an external hardrive because I'm downloading so many movies illegally that I'm running out of space, and I go to BestBuy, and the kid there not only tells me 98.5% of the external hardrives don't work with my Mac, but that every PC they had works with every digital camera on the market. Now whenever I see that commercial I want to kick that smug bastard in the nuts."
Russert went to commercial. Needless to say both he and I were shocked by Hube's behavior. I don't disagree at all with his point: I mean if i wasn't more computer savvy I too would be mislead by those Apple commercials, and they probably should be pulled off the air... but you can't say you want to kick that smug bastard in the nuts on Meet the Press, can you?
Before we made it back to Boston, the clip was up on YouTube and had been viewed 4179 times.
"Hello, everyone," Tim Said. "I'm joined right now by former Minnesota senator Hubert Humphrey, who has just thrown his hat into the 2008 presidential race, and his campaign manager, who is sitting next to him here. Welcome to both of you gentlemen. I want to start with... aren't you dead?"
"I was Tim, but the Democratic party needed me, so I was brought back to life. Not a bad deal, you know?"
"I guess not..."
They discussed the current issues facing the US and why Hube thinks he's better qualified to deal with them. Then Russert mentioned the Hamilton-Baker commission. That's when things went downhill.
"The what? The Hamilton, Joe, Frank, and Reynolds?"
"Um... Hube, I think it's Hamilton, Joe Frank, and Reynolds," I said.
"The guys who did "Don't Pull Your Love Out on Me Baby", right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, what did I say?"
"You said Hamilton, Joe, Frank, and Reynolds, but there's no pause between the Joe and the Frank. Joe Frank is one person."
"What the hell kind of name is that?"
"Guys, let's get back on track here. The question I was getting at is should the Democrats be hiding behind Baker-Hamilton when they said..."
"You know what the Democrats should be worried about? Pulling those damn misleading Apple computer commercials off the air."
Now I was confused. Where was he going with this?
"Man, I saw that commercial where that smug little bastard that's playing the Apple tells the PC guy that digital cameras only work well with Macs, so I get one. But then I need an external hardrive because I'm downloading so many movies illegally that I'm running out of space, and I go to BestBuy, and the kid there not only tells me 98.5% of the external hardrives don't work with my Mac, but that every PC they had works with every digital camera on the market. Now whenever I see that commercial I want to kick that smug bastard in the nuts."
Russert went to commercial. Needless to say both he and I were shocked by Hube's behavior. I don't disagree at all with his point: I mean if i wasn't more computer savvy I too would be mislead by those Apple commercials, and they probably should be pulled off the air... but you can't say you want to kick that smug bastard in the nuts on Meet the Press, can you?
Before we made it back to Boston, the clip was up on YouTube and had been viewed 4179 times.
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