that guy over there...

stealing from scalpers...

about 7 or 8 years ago, myself and my friend christine took off to chicago.  i was going to see the mets play the white sox and she was going to see shit.  this of course is the difference between guys and girls on vacation.  girls actually want to see stuff, guys just want to not be home.

it was game 3 of the series, i want to say it was a wednesday night, but i don't remember.  we had gone and done some touristy crap and picked up a bottle of vodka at the liquor store (sadly christine was not 21 and they carded pretty heavy at most bars) and proceeded to enjoy some screwdrivers out of 7-11 double gulp cups at the hotel.  while we were enjoying the vodka we were watching a documentary on hbo about a transgendered community. 

apparently there were a bunch of folks that all came off as extreme rednecks that decided they didn't like the sex they were assigned.  so they all got sex changes.  things is they then continued relationships with each other.  example:  some chick was in a relationship with some guy.  the chick became a guy and the guy became a chick and they continued the relationship. 

honestly all i remember of the show was one of the guys (who was a girl) saying "i love my sweetie honey pie" in a train wreck testosteroneless male southern accent.

the game was originally scheduled to start at seven o'clock.  unbeknown to us, espn decided to pick up the game for national broadcast pushing the start time up an hour and making us inherently late to the game.

we did not have tickets.  the white sox weren't very good at the time so i figured it'd be no problem showing up and getting tickets either from the box office or a scalper.  as it turned out a scalper found us first.

i asked him what he had and he told me his inventory.  he had some box seats up the third base line a few rows off the field.  when i asked how much, he quoted me a price that was actually below face value.  below face value?  before the game? 

i still had no clue we were late for the game.  even if i did the price would have floored me.  i asked the guy if i could see the tickets to make sure they were real.  he handed me the tickets and i began to inspect them.

he then took off running.  a few seconds later he was tackled by the chicago police and arrested.

i still had the tickets.

so we went to the game, found out it was in the middle of the first inning and used the money we would have bought tickets with to enjoy some lovely frozen margaritas from the awesome old dude who was selling forzen margarits from a backpack.

what's in my rice krispie treats...?

i had just missed a train friday night and knew i had a bit of time to wait.  being a tad inebriated i headed down to the magazine stand to pick up some munchies and a gatorade.  and that's when i saw the rice krispies treats.  yay!  those are always good, so i picked one up.  after greedily scarfing it down, something told me to look at the ingredients.  what i found kinda bugged me.

for the record, here is the original rice krispies recipe taken from the kellogg's rice krispies site:

• 3 tablespoons butter or margarine
• 1 package regular marshmallows or 4 cups miniatures
• 6 cups  rice krispies® (ooh, bolded and italicized...don't forget to be brand loyal folks!)

three ingredients.  yup, that's it.

now lets look at the ingredients on the trash leftover from the treat i had on wednesday (for simplicity i won't list the ingredients of ingredients):

• rice cereal (hrmm...we're not so brand loyal, eh?)
• marshmallow
• fructose
• margarine
• water
• natural and artificial butter flavor
• datem
• acetylated monoglycerides
• bht
• vitamin a palmitate
• vitamin d
• corn syrup solids
• dextrose
• glycerin
• salt
• niacinamide
• pyridoxine hydrochoride
• thiamin hydrochloride
• riboflavin
• soy lecithin

hrmm...20 ingredients?  they need to use 7 times as many things as we do at home?  call me crazy, but that's fucked up.

my weekend...

so it's been a hell of a weekend.  started off at hibernia right after i got off work where a bunch of us drank our asses off to the tune of a 500$ tab (which we're told sets the record for highest tab at the months old bar!).  there was anywhere between 6 and 8 of us at any given time and we went through a hell of a lot of alcohol.  how much?  well, we played "what do we remember" last night and ot my recollection i put down at least 5 baby guinnesses, 4 irish car bombs, 2 jager bombs, and several pints of stoli vanilla and club.

in any case i didn't become the drunk asshole you'd imagine i would after that amount of liquor.  at least not until i got home around 530am and called my aunt to see if my cousin had made it home and to tell her some stuff.  what'd i say?  good question.  i have little to no recollection of the call other than thinking it was a good idea.

so thursday rolled around and wasn't so bad.  woke up around 1, sans hangover (though i did take a couple of aleve for good luck) and went about the day.  had no appetite which is god as i don't really like anything the family eats on thanksgiving anyway.  the apple pie was delicious though.

then came friday.  hit up f.a.t.s. by penn station to watch the ranger game.  good times.  excellent food.  they have a buffalo chicken sandwich which is served on a pretzel roll.  i think everything in this world should be served on a pretzel roll. 

after the game we hopped the lirr to woodside to continue the night at sean og's.  on the train we had a fascinating discussion about priests and exactly what they'd do with and how they'd go about doing it with kids.  when i say we, i mean myself brian and adam.  christine wasn't too into the conversation. 

it never ceases to amaze me the shit we can talk about for much longer than you'd think would be possible.

so we got to the bar and brian had a friend show up.  she had gone to the same elementary school as we did, so we started sharing stories which eventually led to brian and i separately telling her why we thought our elementary school principal (sister kathleen michael) was a cunt.  these stories of course came after the "she's dead now?  good!" conversation.  of course this girl liked sister kate mike and had gone to her wake.  you'd think there'd have been an awkward moment there, but our hatred was too strong for that.

the conversation then somehow turned to the last quote form the night i posted...how this girl would make the perfect hitler youth.  she is a blonde haired, blue eyed wonder.  honestly, i've no idea how we got there or why, but i know i loved the quote.

oh, and also found out that apparently the season finale of entourage was filmed in woodside.  the guys are all from my neck of the woods.  i don't like the show and have barely watched it, but will definitely be checkin' out the episode on demand one of these days.  apparently they wind up taking over the bar next door to the dunkin donuts i usually drunkenly hit up on my way home right under the 61st street train station.

so that was my holiday weekend...how bout yours?

 

one of these things is not like the other...

so i thought i had to use the bathroom.  hell, i thought i had to take a massive crap.  got to the toilet, pissed a lil and farted a few times.  hrmm...i've now just pissed like a girl.  this is sort of embarrassing (granted, only as embarrassing as i let it be as i didn't need to tell anyone). 

then i thought about it for a second.  being a tad embarrassed for peeing like a girl is a hell of a lot better than being embarrased that i shit myself because i thought i had to fart and let 'er rip.

y'all sell pornography...?

last time i talked about games i play while i was at work.  on the train home i remembered on of my newer favourite games to play in public...the "do you sell pornography" game.  it's a pretty simple game, you walk up to someone who works somewhere and ask them if they sell pornography.  it's much like the penis game (if you don't know what that is we'll get to it someday) the object is to say it as loud as you can, though unlike the penis game you don't want to scream...just draw attention to the word pornography.

as with most other things i do for fun, the object of the game is to make someone feel incredibly uncomfortable.  most folks are embarrassed by human sexuality and any expression of it, therefor this game is perfect.  i came up with it at the hicksville stop of the lirr.  i had about 10 minutes to wait for my train and wanted to amuse my cousin.  i saw that the stand did in fact have pornography and since the guy at the counter seemed like the timid type, i decided to try it out.

me:  *to shop guy* excuse me, do you sell pornography here?
shop guy:  (he heard me) huh, what?
me:  *waits for a few more people to come over, speaking louder* do you sell PORNOGRAPHY here?

without looking at the racks full of smut he was peddling, the cashier nodded with his head in the direction of the porn.  is there anything better than the shame of a man who abhors the thought of porn yet has no problem profiting form it?  i submit there is not.

the game can also be fun to play when you're shopping at a venue that you know wouldn't have porn at all.  basically you'd be going solely for shock value in these situations.  think of the fun you could have asking the cashier at the grocery store or drug store if they had any smut for sale.  or perhaps your local bed, bath, and beyond? 

me:  excuse me do you sell pornography here?
bed bath and beyond girl:  what?  no
me:  are you sure?
bbbg:  of course i am
me:  then what are all those little towels you sell for?

there is one place the game simply won't work...

me:  excuse me, do you sell pornography here?
porn shop owner guy:  what the fuck is wrong with?  do you not see?

it can't all be gold, eh?

trek the stars tuesday: why i love the kfcs...

today as we delve deeper into the wondrous self-help guide that is trek the stars, we learn the fairy tale of colonel sanders, founder of kentucky fried chicken...

"Ever been to an outlet of Kentucky Fried Chicken?  Next time you go, ask the manager who a person named Colonel Sanders was.  And he will tell you the story...

Once upon a time there lived an old man well over his sixty named Colonel Sanders.  He was lonely and broke.  He had a recipe for chicken which he felt was just wonderful.  He wondered how to get a restaurant owner to purchase it and make some money by getting a percentage of the additional chicken sales due to his recipe.

He set out on his quest...
The first restaurant owner said no.
The second restaurant owner said no.
The third restaurant owner said no.
The fourth restaurant owner actually laughed in his face.
But the old man went on and on.  He drove all across America in his old car, meeting hotel managers and restaurant owners daily.
He tried 100 times.
No luck.
200 times.
Nothing.
500 times.
All 'No's.
1000 times.
Nopes.
On his 1010th he heard his first yes.
The guy seems nuts? I mean, he was actually on the road for around 2 years going from one restuarant to another.  How many people would ever do that?  Not many.  But that is precisely why there is only one Colonel Sanders and only one KFC, his company, today found in almost every nook and corner of the world."

can't make this shit up folks.  so i took tj's advice and asked the manager of my local kfc about the story of colonel sanders...

me:  can you tell me about the story of colonel sanders?
manager of kfc:  what happened?
me::  yes, that's what i'd like to know.
mgr:  what do you want to know?
me:  about colonel sanders.
mgr:  who dat?
me:  the founder of your great company
mgr:  you mean the old white guy?
me:  yes, with his picture on all your packaging.
mgr:  i dunno he made chicken.
me:  thanks!

i gotta say i look forward to trek the stars tuesday.  my favorite is when asking stupid fucking questions the author responds to himself with "nopes."  today i got to wonder just what the hell "well over his sixty" meant.  the best, however, is learning that colonel sanders drove across the country getting told no 1010 times.  1010?  that sure is a round fucking number right there.

and seriously WHO THE FUCK TOLD THIS KID HE SHOULD WRITE A BOOK?!?  and after they read the draft who said "yea, we should definitely publish this."  and did they get fired?  smeone had to have gotten fired over this, right?

spewing bile: @ myself...

there comes time in every writer's life when he's got nothing.  a bunch of ideas and nothing to back them up.  today is that day for me. 

wait, writer?  who the fuck am i to consider myself a writer of any sort.  i'm just a stupid, piece of shit, lack of talent, hack of a blogger.  i really shouldn't go so far as to give myself credit as a writer.  writers pen news reports, stories, poems, and novels.  all i do is make a couple of dick jokes, throw up a picture of a redhead and giggle like i'm fucking 12 years old again.

seriously with all there is in this world to write or crack a few jokes about i can't think of jack shit to say.  why don't i just go ahead and delete another half post because i couldn't make it interesting for the life of me. 

and how can i not make douchebags interesting?  they're always interesting.  there's nothing more interesting than douchebags and the act of calling people douchebags.  it's not rocket science dumbass.  you find a picture of a douchebag, you say why that person is a douchebag, and everyone laughs and laughs.  can't even get that straight.

speaking of douchebags, who the fuck do i think i am taking a shitty self photo with bad lighting.  do i think it makes me look interesting?  it doesn't.  i look like every other jerk off who's taken a shitty picture with a shitty digital camera.  why?  because they're there and everyone has to take pictures with digital cameras just because they're there.  would i have taken that picture if i had to then take film out of the camera and bring it to a stranger to get it developed?  NO.  of course not.  why?  because no one wants a stranger to look a his or her pictures and say "who the fuck does this asshole think he is?"

wait, i want to write another post about redheads?  another one?  we all fucking get it.  i like redheads.  why don't i tell us about it again?  but i can't because i'm too busy drooling at the pictures.  people love to look at beautiful women and i somehow found a way to make them boring?

seriously, could i learn to spell?  the "i love spellcheck" section was cute for a fucking day or two but the rate at which it's exponentially gone up is sickening.  if i want to go around thinking i can spell, even though i suck at some very specific words, perhaps i should look into meeting mavis beacon.  maybe she could teach me some shit and i wouldn't look so god damn stupid when talking to someone in an instant message.  is it that fucking hard to type "the" instead of "teh?"  no.  i just fucking did it.  get over myself and learn how to do what everybody else did in high school.  speaking of how the fuck did i get a 105 as my final grade in keyboarding?  that's fucking impossible.

and why don't i go eat that cupcake i can't get my mind off of?  fat fuck...

sorry for boredom
today i wasn't funny
try again later

old folks and universal remotes...

so we have an old guy here at work.  he's cool and i have a ton of fun trying to convince him he has alzheimer's.  today his wife called.  he was right behind me when he called her back.

this is the half of the conversation i heard...

"no, the big one. 
don't go get the other ones, you only need the big one.
yes i'm sure.
because we haven't used the other ones for years.
because i wanted to keep them.
just press the button until it says "a/v 3"
the big one in the middle.
in the middle.
the big one.
maybe it's on top then.
the big one in the middle or on top.
press it until it says "a/v 3"
no, don't hit any numbers.
it will say it on the tv.
turn the tv on then.
you have to turn the tv on before it will show you anything.
now hit the big one it's on the top or in the middle.
maybe the bottom then.
try the one on the bottom.
it's on the top, in the middle or on the bottom.  the big button.
i'm sorry, i really have to go honey.
i love you."
*hangs up*

the return of my phone (and the crowning of a WINNER)...

so i woke up friday afternoon around 2pm, started dicking around in world of warcraft (yes i finally gave in and installed the expansion), and waited patiently for the mail to arrive.  seems it already had though, so i went downstairs and instead of seeing a box to make me happy i saw a "could not deliver" notice.

ya kidding me?  why couldn't you deliver it?  there was nothing on the slip to indicate it required a signature or anything of the sort, but alas my phone would be at the post office.  i had a couple of things to mail anyway, so this was not a total loss.

i get to the post office and wait on line because the automatic postal machine doesn't handle international mail (boo!).  after i take care of that i saunter over to the pick up window (because it'd be too easy to have the mail people also help you with your pick up).

it's my turn and the woman has the nerve to tell me that she hasn't yet organized the packages so i may not be able to have mine if she can't find it.  i told her that i would wait all day if i had to because i need my phone and that if she didn't get it for me i would be very upset and i can be quite the asshole when i'm upset.  or maybe that was all in my head, i can never tell anymore.

so she brought me out my phone after a few minutes.  i said thank you and went on my way to cash my paycheck.  yay phone, yay money.

so i got home, installed the new firmware for the phone (something i had meant to do on the old one) and went about restoring my contacts and what not.  i'm gonna look at this experience as a good one as it got me to finally do a hard reset, do the updating that needed to be done, and get all the excess crap off my phone...

as for the contest, we did in fact have a winner...

eric over at lolcelebs said thursday at 7:27 pm.  this was the latest guess without going over and therefore is declared the winner!  congrats eric!  your credits have already been delivered.

and now we learn why we should read shit and award contest winners when sober...

see, the real winner is mik over at slightly mordant.  he said 10 am on friday morning thus actually being the closest without going over.  mik, i hope you don't mind waiting a few days as i really did screw up and sent the credits, i'll see if the entrecard folks will be kind enough to let me send more, but i doubt it.

so we have two winners for this contest which couldn't have been more simple.  mike is the actual winner.  and eric has been declared the winner of the first ever (and likely weekly, monthly or annual) chris is a dumbass award!  enjoy guys!

while we're at it, i shall declare a third winner...

renz over at live the life of a dreamer amused me by giving herself a second entry.  while i suppose it wasn't explicitly stated that everyone only got to go once, that's sorta what i was going with.  but renz definitely gets an a for effort and will get some credits in 2 weeks after i pay out to the actual winner.  how many?  i dunno...i'll make it up.

yay for winners! 

for decorative purposes only...?

there's a tradition in my family.  each godparent buys an ornament for his or her god child.  i have an awesome goddaughter she's 2 and this will be her third christmas.  (a good godfather would have a picture to post and i do, somewhere, but my sister sucks and none of them are recent.  she's cute, i promise.  and not in that "oh any kid i know is cute" sort of way.  she's actually cute.  i wouldn't lie.)  that's her on the left (sorry for the small pic, best i could do as i attempt to rush out of the house...)

so the series is called noelville.  it started the same year she did (2006) and is kinda neat.  it's gingerbread houses.  in any case, they gave me a free ornament too.  i wanted to tell the girl no because i have no use for an ornament, but she seemed really into it.  after i got home i actually looked at it...

being alive as i long as i have, i've come to realize warnings and signs are there for a reason.  someone clearly used this (or some other ornament) for purposes other than to decorate.

i'd give anything to know who it was and what they did...