R. Kelly Party

Look, I'm not advocating turning 30… but if you HAVE to do it for whatever reason, do it with an R. Kelly party, 'cause the other night was a lot of fun.

I basically forgot it was my birthday. It was all about Kells, and that's how I wanted it. We projected his music videos on the walls: Trapped in the Closet, the religious tunes, sex jams, the radio hits, more sex jams, sing-alongs, his step dancing tracks, and still more sex jams, obviously.

Everyone should get laid off just before their birthday, because that gave me a lot of free time to prepare for the bash. For example, I homemade made a 6-foot tall R. Kelly cutout. I emptied a color ink cartridge on my home printer and butchered a piece of foam insulation in the process, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. People thought I had it professionally done, which is too kind of a compliment for how it looked, but I will accept the compliment considering how many hours I put into the damn thing.

With my sudden free time, I also made a bunch of "lyric hats" for everyone to wear. It was construction paper headwear that included some of the most absurd and raunchiest R. Kelly song lines, and I think it helped set the tone.

Then again, the tone was probably mostly set by everyone "sippin' on coke and rum". Thankfully, it got wild without turning into a shit-show… I'm going to chalk that up to the maturity that comes with 30!

There were water guns - some filled with water, some with rum - so that people could squirt on each other freely. Yellow streamers accentuated the doorways. And just when you thought all the urination jokes were complete, a sign on the restroom door restricted where (read: who) you could pee on.

My highlight of the night was when people brought out the cake and 40 people sang "Ignition" instead of "Happy Birthday." That transitioned into "Echo" "Real Talk" "Bump n Grind" "I Believe I Can Fly" and some step dancing. I barely dance at this stage of my life, but many of us were going for it. For as ridiculous as the man is, R. Kelly also makes some great music.


Fuck losing my job, I think I found my next career: party planning. I mean, I'd prefer it if people just hired me to do R. Kelly parties for them because I've got that one down and it's better than any other theme you'd dream up, but I suppose I could learn to make life-size cutouts of other things, too. THINK ABOUT IT.

Okay, Fine, I'm 30

I turned 30 today, and I'm okay. I know people are concerned after my previous post, but I'll be fine. Things aren't going entirely to plan, but when does it ever? I hung out with a lot of people who are over 30 tonight, and none of them seem "old", so that helps put things in perspective. I'm not much different, I'm just a little closer to death… and sometimes that doesn't seem like a bad thing!

Last night, I tried to come to terms with the major transition and posted a question to Facebook: "Quick, what's something you can only do in your 20s? I only have a few hours left." The answers were pretty intriguing… to ME anyway:

• I don't think I have it in me to go to a lesbian karaoke bar every week. Or get harassed by cops when they catch us drinking 40s in a park after hours.
• I've never spray tanned, but I've tried a tanning bed with poor results. 
• I now learned the word "koan", so that's something. 
• Telling people I'm in my 20s was probably the most reasonable suggestion that had me going "duh." Good answer. 
• I've done some variation on the pants pooping thing, sadly. But I was 20, not like late or even mid 20s, thankyouverymuch. 
• Amber might not remember, but she did put a reddish tint in my hair once as a teen, and my mom freaked out. Maybe I can get away with that in my 40s. 
• Does 30 really mean my horse fucking days are over?! 
• I still always THINK I can hang with young 20-somethings… until I actually do and I'm like "oh no, this is not working."
• Considering that last post, I don't know that "writing with self pity and angst" is over.
• I have beer with Luie every week, so he's being a knucklehead. 
• The injury thing is already true!
• I don't have it in me to party like I used to. Or not feel bad the next day. Mainly my body won't even let me drink too much anymore in the knowledge that I don't want to feel bad the next day. 

Mostly, it served as a reminder that my 20s were already over. I mentally checked out of that shit a while ago. I might have been clinging to 29 as a number… but as a lifestyle. Nahhhh. Well, except for this weekend. I'm throwing an R. Kelly themed birthday party this Saturday. It's gonna be filthy. Come!

I TURN 30 IN TWO DAYS.

THAT’S ENOUGH REASON FOR ANYONE TO HAVE AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS SLASH DEPRESSION, BUT NOT ME, I’M DOING GREAT. LIFE IS SO GREAT.

I MEAN, IT’S NOT LIKE I LOST MY JOB TODAY. OUR WHOLE STAFF WAS SACKED AND NOW I DON’T HAVE A STEADY INCOME. I WAS JUST GETTING USED TO HAVING MONEY. GETTING USED TO NOT SECOND-GUESSING WHETHER I CAN AFFORD TO GET A DRINK AT A BAR OR GOING OUT TO EAT WITH MY FRIENDS. IT SEEMED LIKE A PRIVILEGE THAT REAL GROWN-UPS, REAL 30-SOMETHINGS EXPERIENCE. BUT NOT ME, NOT ANYMORE.

MY BOSS (WHO WAS ALSO LET GO) TOLD ME HE COULD HAVE TOLD ME ON FRIDAY, BUT HE DIDN’T WANT TO RUIN MY WEEKEND. SO SURE, RUIN MY BIRTHDAY INSTEAD. WAIT UNTIL AFTER I SPENT A LOT OF MONEY TRAVELING. AND WORSE, WAIT UNTIL AFTER I TOLD OFF THIS WOMAN WHO PAYS ME A LOT OF MONEY THAT I WAS DONE DOING BUSINESS WITH HER. FINANCIALLY, IT WAS STUPID, BUT I HAVE MY PRIDE! EXCEPT NOW IT TURNS OUT I NEED THE MONEY, NOT THE PRIDE. WHOOPS! 

MY WEEKEND WAS KIND OF RUINED ANYWAY SINCE MY BUILDING WAS BEING FUMIGATED FOR BED BUGS. I DIDN’T HAVE BED BUGS, BUT ANOTHER UNIT DID, AND THEY TENTED THE WHOLE FUCKING PLACE, WHICH MADE ME TEMPORARILY HOMELESS. MY LANDLADY NOT ONLY KICKED ME OUT TO DO THIS BUT ALSO EXPECTED ME TO BE THERE WHEN THE EXTERMINATOR ARRIVED BOTH TIMES AND WAIT AROUND FOR THE GAS MAN TO HOOK UP/DISABLE THE GAS TWICE BECAUSE SHE WAS “BUSY” AND I’M THE NICE ONE. I LOVE THAT PEOPLE KNOW THEY CAN EXPLOIT MY REPUTATION FOR BEING A PUSHOVER. MAKES ME FEEL GREAT. AND 30!

EVEN THOUGH I ASKED TO BE COMPENSATED FOR MY TIME/INCONVENIENCE, MY LANDLADY ONLY GAVE A SMALL PORTION OF A RENT REDUCTION. IT WASN’T ENOUGH TO COVER A CHEAP MOTEL, SO I TRAVELED TO ARIZONA SINCE I’D HAVE A PLACE TO STAY. I WASN’T ALLOWED TO BRING MY LUGGAGE OR ANY CLOTHING OR WHATEVER, SO I PACKED MY STUFF IN A TRASH BAG. MY CARRY-ON WAS A TRASH BAG! THAT’S NOT SOMETHING YOU SEE IN AN AIRPORT EVERY DAY. BY THE WAY, IT WAS 111 DEGREES IN ARIZONA. UGGHHHH. I’D RATHER BE AT HOME INHALING POISONS AND CUDDLING WITH BED BUGS, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. 

BUT OTHER THAN THAT, THINGS ARE GREAT. IT’S NOT LIKE I’M LOSING MY HAIR AND GAINING WEIGHT. IT’S NOT LIKE I’M DESPERATELY IN NEED OF HEALTH INSURANCE. IT’S NOT LIKE I HAVE NO DIRECTION IN LIFE. IT’S NOT LIKE I’M REALLY ANGRY ABOUT THE WORLD AND FEEL HELPLESS TO DO ANYTHING. BEING 30 IS GOING TO BE SO FUCKING GREAT!

SORRY FOR ALL THE CAPITAL LETTERS, I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE I WAS PROPERLY EMPHASIZING HOW MUCH I HAVE IT TOGETHER. 

Dominate, Explode

OH MY G! I just found the best new way to waste time on the internet. (Because we all need more ways of doing that, right?)

So YouTube has this "Automatic Closed Caption" option that will attempt to transcribe some videos' audio, but it is AWFUL. Truly awful. However, what it lacks in accuracy, it makes up for in hilarity. Even a dumb YouTube video becomes an amusing one with this feature on.

I decided to experiment with something dry, dialogue-driven, and cliche-filled: student council speeches. And I'll be damned if I didn't watch nine minutes of teenagers saying nothing and laughing the whole time.


Go ahead. Play the video, and make sure to click the CC button in the menu and choose the "English (automatic captions)" option. You really need to see them in succession, but some of my favorite snippets include:

I heard Attorney Steve Obvious beat Bob Loblaw in court!

The Renaissance Fair

I never thought I'd attend a Renaissance Fair (because ha!) but I found myself witnessing one today by accident. I met up with some teammates for a barbecue in a park, and much to our surprise, a lot of the space was claimed by a few hundred fully costumed Ren Fair devotees.

I like people-watching, but watching people who are playing pretend is fascinating in a whole new way. This wasn't a performance for an audience (though the couple dozen of us who happened to be at the park had great seats), just adults amusing themselves and each other by sweating through heavy costumes in heat that would have called for shorts and using funny accents to say words like "exalted" and "decree."

A lot of things were going on at the end of the Middle Ages, but if you were relying on these LARPers for your information, you might think it was nothing but fencing. The men loved fighting with their swords and that took up the majority of the day. It seems like it might be more accurate if some of them were sharecropping or whatever. Then again, if they were concerned with accuracy, I probably wouldn't have seen so many of them playing with their smartphones.

And then there was the Queen! She wore the fanciest gown and a crown, and had attendants follow her around with parasols to provide her majesty with shade. I wonder how they chose the Queen and whether she got to be the Queen every time they played. When an ice cream truck came to the park's parking lot, the Queen went over to buy some and several of her attendants tagged along. I also wondered whether they were obligated to do this or wanted popsicles, too.

Although the women remained primarily in subservient positions - true to the times, I suppose - it was nice to see that the African American participants held various ranks. More than anything, however, I was just surprised that there were black people there at all. It's times like these that I recognize my underlying prejudices. White people? I expect this kind of Ren-Fair shit from them. But black people… I guess I thought that black people were cooler than that.

10 More Ridiculous Children's Books

My liberrian friend (by which I mean she works at a liberry, she's not Liberian - not that there's anything wrong with that! unless this were Back to the Future) continues to find and send me photos of some of the most ridiculous children's literature her liberry houses. Here are 10 of my favorites:

Inspired by the Everclear song "Father of Mine"

I think it's safe to assume it's also The Last Book of Salt.

Being a teenager is plenty hard, but I bet it only gets worse after your parents read this book.

Something tells me they'll regret giving a baby to Max.

Coooooooooooooooool!

The liberry needs more books of men punching kids in the face.

Forget kids: I'd scream in terror if any of these men spoke to me.

Most books have only moderate amounts of rot.

Don't sit on the bench with Alex! He has AIDS!

Oh dear.

Revolution

I changed the "political views" on my Facebook profile since "liberal" didn't accurately reflect my desire to overthrow a system by and for moneyed interests and then Facebook decided to automatically hyperlink my stance to an NBC television show of the same name.

You're part of the problem, Facebook.

My (Earnest) Advice to Friends on How to Watch the New Season of Arrested Development Is the Same Kind of Thing You'd Hear a Youth Minister Tell Preteens about Sex

• You've been waiting years for this, don't rush it before you're completely ready now. 
• Hold off until you can share it with someone you love. 
• This is a gift from God, a privilege not to be taken lightly. 
• Just because all of your friends did it quickly doesn't mean you have to, too. 
• You'll never be able to experience the magic of the first time again, so make sure it's special. 
• If you get drunk and do 15 all in one night, you're going to regret it the next morning.

Live It Up

If eating "lightly sweetened whole grain cereal" is considered living it up, then I am living my best life!

Woo! Have some healthy breakfast with just a touch of sugar! Live it up!

I showed this picture to Melissa and she said, "That's how you know you're almost 30." That really stung. Takes one to know one, Mel!

But it's true. I miss those days of Lucky Charms. Not so much the taste, but the general recklessness of it it all.

I don't know what my life is any more... but I'm pretty convinced that I'm not living it up.

Hi, I'm Calling about Your Boobs

My friend "Tiffany" got a call from "Roger", one of her best friend's father. Since they don't generally have any contact, naturally Tiffany assumed something awful had happened. In a sense, something awful had happened, but it had nothing to do with Roger's daughter.

For context, Tiffany has a history of breast cancer in her family. In fact, her sister was diagnosed at an early age, well before the age of recommended mammogram screenings. As a result, Tiffany's doctor thought it would be a good idea for Tiffany to get screened.

That's where Roger comes in. He works for a health insurance company. Coincidentally, he was assigned to Tiffany's request for a breast cancer screening. And then he called her up! Gee, must be nice to know someone who can approve your procedure and give you some personal service for once!

Except that, actually, Roger was calling Tiffany to tell her that he had denied her claim. After all, his job is to reject paying for most medical care… that's how a health insurance company operates! Normally a customer wouldn't receive a call, but once he recognized her name, Roger wanted to call Tiffany personally to tell her her doctor requested mammogram would not be covered by insurance and that he felt really bad about it.

Aww, poor Roger. It's nice to know he cares. Not enough to, like, ensure Tiffany is healthy, mind you, but there's just enough of a guilty conscious for him to admit he dicked her over. It's not like early detection could save her life or anything! He found some excuse for rejecting the claim and went with it!

For fuck's sake, if you can't even get someone who knows you and your personal history which validates this particular medical exam to cover the costs, how can you expect the health insurance industry to ever take care of you?

Anytime your friend's dad calls you up to discuss your boobs, it's bound to be an awful conversation, but this might be one of the worst cases.

Eurovision 2013 Round-Up

Yesterday's Eurovision Song Contest was pretty bleeping amazing. Tell me this video of Romania's song isn't the most bizarre thing you've seen. Tell me, I dare you! It's been labelled "gay vampire ghost opera dubstep" and I suppose that's as good of a description as there will ever be for something that words cannot accurately describe.

But Romania was hardly the only WTF moment. Finland channeled her inner-bridezilla and ended her song with a lesbian smooch:


Greek men clad in kilts jammed and repeated the lyrics "Alcohol is free!" incessantly. (It's a message we can all get behind, anyway.):


This pretty Ukranian woman got carried onstage by an actual giant, sang about gravity, made weird hand motions to mimic a butterfly, and still ultimately finished in 3rd place:

Moldova screeched while wearing the most multi-functional dress you've ever seen:

And we picked up some "cool" "new" "dance moves" from both Belgium and Belarus.

About ten of us watched the festivities live together yesterday, and while Romania was obviously our collective favorite, our runner-up was the show's actual winner, Denmark:
I was smitten with the song within twenty seconds: a flute, those drums, a hot, purposefully disheveled young lady with perfectly messy hair and bare feet. All right, for me the appeal is admittedly half crush-based, but it's also half really catchy song. I might already own the MP3, even.

The runner-up was an astonishingly handsome man (hey, save some good genes for the rest of us) from Azerbaijan who probably had the best staging of the night. I don't care for the song, but I can't even make fun of it because I was just genuinely impressed with the effects:

I realize I write about Eurovision a lot for an American, but it is too funny/confounding of a ritual to not get excited about. Like, what was with this announcer who snuck in a plug for his new single and then gave control back to the main host who he referred to as "#MILF"? Man, I can't get enough: is it next year yet?

P.S., here are three honorable mentions that for obvious but not justifiable reasons were eliminated in the semi-final rounds:

• Montenegro (ASTRONAUT RAPPERS, GUYS!)
• Latvia (It's not an homage to the 80s, Latvia is just decades behind in trends.)
• Bulgaria (She wails, she drums, she's awesome.)

Oh, Him!

"He has small features and a closed mind." 
- a friend describing someone to me

A Baby Is Born

So that my pregnant friend of mine who I said all the wrong things to met us at that same bar this week. I wasn't expecting to see her because she's literally nine months pregnant. Come to think of it, I don't think anyone expects to see a nine months pregnant woman in a bar.

Weirder still is when she said she was likely to come out again the following week… a day after her due date. That is, she stipulated, if she hadn't given birth yet. "What if you have the baby on the due date, will you still come out the next night?" "No." she said. See, this baby is already cutting into our friendship.

Luie said he'd grab towels "just in case." We tried to get her to agree to name the baby after the bar if her water broke while she was there, but she wouldn't agree.

My favorite moment, however, occurred between a married couple who are new friends of mine. After they were introduced to my pregnant friend and stared at her massive belly, they had a brief exchange: 

Husband: "That looks awful. I don't think I could ever do that to you."
Wife: "That's good, because I don't want you to ever do that to me."

Sounds like we can be friends for a good long while. Three cheers for the non-procreators!

Just 36 hours after that night in a bar, I received a picture message from my friend: it was her fresh-out-of-the-oven baby. Admittedly, it's difficult to reconcile the fact that we were hanging out and then soon after she was pushing a new human being out of her body.

I, again not saying the most appropriate things for the occasion, responded by sending this GIF of an even cuter baby performing CPR. (Seriously, I adore it so much, I watched it loop for fifteen minutes straight.) Accordingly, I asked the new mommy if she had bothered to teach her not-even-one-day-old resuscitation techniques yet.

She gave some lame excuse that the baby having enough difficulty learning to breastfeed, but whatever. This is about potentially saving someone's life! It's never too soon. Frankly, I'm not sure I'm willing to hang out with this baby until I know she could rescue me in the event I stop breathing.

Eurovision Is Here

The Eurovision semifinals start tomorrow, culminating in the finals on Saturday (come over to mi case in the afternoon, amigos!), meaning we are currently entering my favorite week of the year.

The Eurovision video I edited got blocked on YouTube due to a copyright claim. I plead ignorant - I wasn't aware people bothered to copyright songs that awful. But FINE. Two can play this game - I just uploaded it again to DailyMotion instead.

However, YouTube only blocked my vid for the U.S. and a handful of other countries. Europeans (in general the only people who know and care about this music) are still able to watch the video. As a result, I still receive a bunch of pissed off comments from them. How DARE I call their sacred competition "ridiculous". Here are my 10 favorite angry YouTube comments that show how seriously they take it:

Like, they WATCHED that same compilation and think I'm the one with no taste? Bless their hearts, for they are part of what makes this experience so comical.

Happy Mothers' Day, especially to UR MOM!

I couldn't resist purchasing this airbrushed hat for today's holiday. It just seems like a nice gesture to indicate that I not only appreciate my own mother, but ur mom, as well.

It was a great thrift store find. As was this t-shirt.

Weird kid, but I didn't buy it.

My mother will be pleased to learn that I decided against buying a shirt featuring an elephant's butt, too. I think it's a sign of maturity that I realize not every article of clothing can't be a joke?

But if the UR MOM hat wasn't enough of an indication, I'm still not that mature. For example, I couldn't resist buying this bejeweled BINGO WINNER shirt. Not sure when I'd ever wear it, but perhaps I can coax one of my friends into it.

In the parking lot, a homeless guy (not the one who peed in my car) asked if he could wash my headlights for a small donation. I gave him a few bucks and he told me that my "mama must have raised me right." There, Mom, you have something to be proud of… other than that fashion sense that clearly never developed.

Oh, and I also found this shirt: 

On the one hand, it's pretty stupid to put a greeting card message on a t-shirt, because on what occasion could a dad actually wear this? On the other hand, AT LEAST MY FATHERS' DAY SHOPPING IS ALREADY DONE. Plus, it was cheap and easy. Almost as cheap and easy as UR MOM.