Kevin Babbles

Photo Scavenger Hunt

2012-01-25T17:52:00.000-08:00

Brady's photo scavenger hunt birthday party was one of my favorite events of 2011. Penny, Lizzy, Randal and I ran all around LA in strange attire while snapping pictures and causing a ruckus. Together we...

Chatted with a kooky lady about her dress and dog

Became Scientologists

Used a pay phone

Pole danced in front of a strip club

Ate some skateboard punks' Del Taco...

Then let them jump over us...

And then we jumped with them

Piggy-backed through a drive-thru

Laundered ourselves

Rolled down a hill

Had a battle in Halloween costumes

Price-checked Magnum condoms at a sex store

Got fleas

Photobombed a family of Shrek fans

Had my tits signed by Princess Tiana

Rode through the grocery store on an electronic cart

Following the photography sessions, all teams reassembled to score each other's work. It probably goes without saying, but my team won. Those other teams didn't stand a chance.

The State of the Union

2012-01-24T14:06:00.000-08:00

We're just a few hours away from Obama's last State of the Union address.

No, that's not a prediction that Obama will lose the election. That's a reminder that the year is 2012 and it is the last State of the Union for all of us.

FACT: Obama is not a secret Muslim, he's a secret Mayan. Everyone in that room tonight already knows the end is upon us. It's why Michelle Obama is so angry, John Boehner always cries, and Joe Biden just doesn't give a fuck.

Think about it: the world's imminent end is the only reasonable explanation for why our government is being run so poorly. Why go to the trouble of fixing an economy that won't exist in another year? Why worry about health care when cancer won't even have enough time to kill most of its victims? Why provide children with a quality education who will never have a chance to apply that knowledge?

I'm going to be applauding a lot tonight, and not just because I'll be blitzed. I'm grateful that the unemployment rate is so high so that I don't have to spend my last days working. I'm grateful that I've been shot at with paint-bullets alongside fellow peaceful protesters so that I can finally experience what it's like to play paintball, a luxury I've previously been unable to afford. And I'm grateful that we killed bin Laden in advance so that none of us will get stuck next to him in purgatory. U-S-A! U-S-A!

Look for all to be revealed tonight when Obama declares, "The state of our union is apocalyptic."

My Lonely Days Are Over

2012-01-23T19:21:00.000-08:00

"They can't play 'At Last' at Etta James's funeral. It's not appropriate lyrically." - Ted

Would He Die for You?

2012-01-22T12:52:00.001-08:00

After only a week of dating, my former roommate Tammy* decided to introduce her new boyfriend, Blaine*, to her family, mainly at her family's urging. The family is super close-knit, to the point where dating Tammy essentially means dating her family as well, a scenario which has been known to drive previous suitors away.

Before the big dinner, about ten of Tammy's family members were gathered in my living room discussing the impending meeting. They wanted to know all about Blaine from Tammy in advance. One aunt cut to the chase: "Does he promise to love you forever? Would he be willing to die for you?"

Tammy made a nervous face. I had been trying to stay out of the ordeal, but I couldn't help but chime in after hearing that. "You can't ask that! They've only been dating a week!"

"Tammy is a very special girl with a lot of love, we need to know that he cherishes her," the aunt responded. It seems to me that dying for someone you barely know is a lot to ask of someone, but since we clearly saw differently on the subject, I ended the conversation.

Later that night, Tammy and Blaine came home from dinner, with Blaine looking like he had been beat up. When he was alone, he gave me the details: the family had decided to play a "game" where they went around in a circle each taking turns asking Blaine very personal questions.

"They wanted to know my intentions, like for marriage and stuff," Blaine sighed. "I like Tammy and all, but it's been like a week. I don't even have intentions yet."

"Oh my gosh," I finally realized. "Her aunt didn't ask if you would die for her, did she?"

Blaine gave me a stare. "Yupppp."

I gave Blaine a hug. It's a wonder that they survived that first week and are still together years later. Dying for someone seems way easier than dealing with her family.

Careers for Girls

2012-01-19T18:17:00.001-08:00

While looking for board games in a closet at my grandpa's house, I found this awesome game from my mom's childhood, What Shall I Be?: The Exciting Game of Career GIrls.

Exciting is right. Even though it was manufactured in 1966, there were already SIX amazing careers available to women:

Ballet Dancer
Teacher
Model
Airline Hostess
Actress
Nurse

With such diverse choices, how did a girl playing the game decide which career to pursue? Well, it all depends on her god-given traits, naturally.

If you doubt this game's influence on young women, please note that she did in fact become a teacher. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that she wanted to be an airline hostess, but lacked the appropriate grace.

Actually, these playing pieces hold some good advice in general. So if you're unemployed and female (and really, if you're one then you're most likely the other) remember that the world needs more ballerinas. And even if you've never thought about modeling before, it's always an option! Just lose some weight, stand up straight, and fix your make-up, toots.

Excuse Me, Waiter, There's a Fly in My SOPA

2012-01-17T23:34:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow I'll be blacking out my site in solidarity against SOPA. They can call it an anti-piracy bill, but that's really just a smokescreen for the government to hijack the internet and censor it as they see fit. The internet needs to remain a haven for unrestricted sharing of information. And yes, that includes TMI stories about my bowel movements.

I know, I know... a whole day without me babbling? How will you cope? I suppose you could try to find a better website, but a) that doesn't exist and b) any site that even comes close will probably be going black, too. Hopefully the devastation of not hearing from me will get you to speak out against the bill as well. (Also, any excuse to take a day off from thinking of something funny or interesting to blog is okay in my book.)

Anyway, I'll be back Thursday to post awesome things... until I'm censored for real by SOPA or imprisoned under falsified suspicions of terrorism thanks to the NDAA.

Do It for Martin

2012-01-16T19:55:00.000-08:00

Let's talk about Martin Luther King Jr. Let's not talk about him just because it's his holiday. Let's not talk about him just because we feel like good people for doing so. Let's talk about him because his message is entirely relevant today.

I'm actually not referring to issues of race, as I'm going to assume that I don't have many segregationists reading my blog. That's not to say that we've come close to solving racial inequality, but that the problem is so much bigger than that. Race isn't real, it's a social construct, a concept that's used to divide us when what the people really need is unity.

It wasn't until recently that I learned that King was about so much more than race. In school, I think they boil it down to racial equality because it's easier to swallow. That's no different than how they teach us the Civil War was all about slavery, when it was just one of many of the motivations, and not even one of the top ones.

In addition to Civil Rights, King preached:

non-violence even when faced with violent opposition
refusing to align with a political party in order to remain critical
opposing war
engaging in civil disobedience
questioning capitalism
helping people have access to jobs, homes, and health care

It's striking to me that so many of King's speeches and words could be delivered unaltered today. He was sharing the message of Occupy Wall Street decades before the rest of us. Sometimes I waiver in my own participation in the movement, wondering if it's all futile, but when I see a man as great as MLK espousing the same ideas, I'm swayed back with his quotes like: "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter."

A lot of people assume that now that we have a black president, the work of King is complete (never mind that he's as much a corporate puppet as anyone), but that's absolutely not the case. The work of Dr. King has barely just begun. We as a society have so much more to accomplish.

So get involved, get informed, and get civilly disobedient. Change doesn't result from those who quietly dissent. I'm charging all of you who agree with many of the tenants of the Occupy movement yet find various excuses not to participate to take a bigger leap. In the words of MLK, "In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."

Jism

2012-01-14T20:00:00.000-08:00

Ummmmm, I just played the word JISM against my mother in Words with Friends.

I think it's safe to say that I've never used that word - or any approximation - in front of her before.

Part of me was just curious whether it would be considered an acceptable word (and by acceptable, I mean legal, obviously), and then I tried to take it back, but it was too late. I've soiled our Scrabble board, and now I can never talk to her again. Sorry, Mom.

P.S. If you like playing Words with Potty Mouths, you can challenge my user name Kevin Babbles. Just remember I'm good.

Tramp Stamped

2012-01-13T23:57:00.000-08:00

Are you and your friends drinking Smirnoff Ice? And are you enjoying that sugary shit so much that you let your friends tramp stamp the logo on you with an airbrush tattoo kit?

No? Well then I’m sorry to hear your Friday night has been a failure.

War Horse: Critical Reviews

2012-01-12T22:51:00.000-08:00

See what the critics are saying about War Horse:

1. "Winner of this year's Gallop Poll."
2. "I think it's safe to say that Julia Roberts will be scoring another Oscar for her believable performance in the title role."
3. "Hung like horse is usually a compliment, but with a runtime of two and a half hours, the film is just too long for its own damn good."
4. "Eat your heart out, Seabiscuit."
5. "I'm glad this movie exists, if only to inspire the inevitable War Whores beastiality-themed porn parody."
6. "A remarkable portrayal of the past, as well as what's to come. In the future, our battles will be fought exclusively by war horses."
7. "The only way this flick could have kept me glued to my seat was if they turned the warrior equine into an adhesive."
8. "Constantly wishing I knew how the horse was feeling as the action unfolded gave me a new appreciation for Mr. Ed."
9. "More yays than nays. But more neighs than anything."
10. "Wait, which war is this? I was hoping to see the horse clomp over some Nazis."

Hobos Are Upstanding Citizens

2012-01-10T14:36:00.000-08:00

If you're one of those people who uses the term "hobo" derogatorily, you are an ignorant motherfucker. Allow me to direct your attention to the Hobo Wikipedia page, not only to help clarify things, but because it is also the best article on all of Wikipedia.

Hobos are a good people. Hobos have parades, national conventions, and even a set of ethical codes. Apparently, true hobos are gentlemen who follow laws, constantly look for work, temper their drinking, respect nature, practice good hygiene, and don't molest children.

How dare people lump them into a category with bums and tramps:

A hobo or bo is simply a migratory laborer; he may take some longish holidays, but soon or late he returns to work. A tramp never works if it can be avoided; he simply travels. Lower than either is the bum, who neither works nor travels, save when impelled to motion by the police.

Hobos work! Hobos travel! Bums do neither. If you want to insult a lazy good-for-nothing fella, go ahead and call him a bum, but leave hobos out of it.

(Thanks to Alex for the tip.)

How Many Reasons Are You Going to Hell for?

2012-01-07T13:33:00.000-08:00

Thousands of Occupy Wall Streeters marched following the Rose Bowl Parade this year, and I believe it went well. From what I saw, more faces in the crowd were receptive to the movement than opposed, which is encouraging. Still, that doesn't stop a lot of critics from saying it isn't an appropriate place to protest corporate power in America (at a parade where most floats have a corporation's name prominently displayed, no less) and others who just don't like that it "breaks tradition". The truth is that demonstrators have been permitted to follow the last float for several years now, but usually it's just a couple dozen nuts who are intolerant in the name of Jesus. So unless you think it's a shame that cheers of "God hates fags!" were drowned out, there really shouldn't be any objections.

I have a fun game: look at the sign and tell me how many reasons you're going to hell. I fit 9/30 categories (of those that I understand - what do some of those even mean?), which leads me believe that I'm already in too deep with the devil to repent. Knowing a few bloody thirsty women, I bet some of you are even more damned than me.

What's your score?

The Language of Love

2012-01-06T13:15:00.000-08:00

Thanks to the magic of internet dating, two people in my social circle were matched together and went out for coffee. They weren't previously acquainted despite having a bunch of mutual friends (though it seems likely they've attended the same party at some point), and didn't realize how much their own circles overlapped until later in the date.

So fate finally brought these two together, right? Not exactly. Certain friends have been able to get both sides of the story on the blind date's dysfunction. The best snippet comes from the guy who, for clarification's sake, is white, educated, and a native southern Californian: "She asked me if English was my first language... twice." I think that's all you need to know about how well that conversation went.

Republican Candidates: The Froth and the Hope

2012-01-04T21:21:00.000-08:00

The circus of the GOP primaries (as well as Obama “reluctantly” signing the Constitution-defying NDAA, just so you know it’s not an issue of partisanship), is enough to put me off politics forever. As much as I want to ignore it, unfortunately political matters don’t work the same as say… what’s something else that’s awful… Two and a Half Men in that while Jon Cryer doesn’t have to be a part of my life if I don’t want him to be, politicians will impact my life on a daily basis even if I try to mute them.

Therefore, to my own agitation, last night I followed the caucus results in Iowa, and I was shocked to see Rick Santorum in a dead heat with ~~John Kerry~~ I’m sorry, Mitt Romney. Yes, somehow the man whose top Google listing is one that defines his name as a crass anal sex “by-product” (which I will happily link to in order to contribute to the magical Google algorithm that keeps it at #1) is a contender? The only enjoyable think about Santorum popping up in the news is that Wonkette always publishes that hilarious picture of his daughter crying. Yeah, I’d sob, too, if he were my dad.

I forget whose blog I was reading yesterday (remind me! I’ll link you) that introduced me to the part of Santorum’s wikipedia page that explains how he brought his son who died a couple of hours after being born so prematurely home to meet and “cuddle” with his siblings. Moreover, Santorum then slept with the dead infant in his bed that night. When I read that, I was like, “That sounds like some Duggar shit” thinking of the recent photo shoot the family did with their miscarried baby.

Then Andrew told me about how the Duggers are campaigning for Santorum, even lending their bus (my favorite detail is that the Duggar kids managed to “badly misspell” Santorum’s name when painting it on the side of the bus), and now it all makes sense.

But if Weekend at Baby Bernie’s (or the anal sex froth) isn’t enough to make you question Santorum, how about his racism, his extreme homophobia, or his eagerness to start a war? Can’t we do better than this, America? BLAH.

I was thinking about how sad it is not to have a candidate to even root for in the GOP primaries, but I think I finally discovered one today: Buddy Roemer. I can’t pretend to know too much about him, but he’s running – as a Republican - on a platform of taking corporate money out of politics and instituting campaign finance reform. In a way, I don’t even care what his other stances are (although he is passing my initial sniff test), because until we make changes in this facet of politics, it’s just going to be more politics as usual.

Roemer needs to get 5% of the vote in New Hampshire in order to be included in the next debate. Even if he doesn’t stand a chance to win, I hope Roemer gets that much so his viewpoint can become a part of the larger conversation. He’ll need more luck and support considering, as he himself pointed out, that he received only five more votes than “Lizard People” in Iowa. (See? He’s funny, too!)

Cum Gravity

2012-01-03T20:49:00.000-08:00

I bought Erica this book for her birthday because it's called Cum Gravity. I mean cum on! How can you resist? What goes up must cum down, after all, wink wink.

Once we got passed the easy jokes and actually looked through the book, the absurdity doesn't stop at the cover. I think of "living with gravity" as the only life I've ever known, but this book seems to assume that its readers have some kind of longstanding grudge with gravity. Check out the title of chapter 2. Don't feel ashamed if you thought gravity was some sort of villain. Apparently that's a "new concept".

New Year's Eve

2012-01-01T22:45:00.000-08:00

How was your New Year's Eve? I don't really care, actually, I only ask so that you'll return the question, because I have three important things to share:

1. I managed to spill so badly on myself immediately upon arriving at the party that within five minutes I had to be driven back home so that I could change my pants. Since taking off my pants is the natural progression of most parties anyway, I briefly considered just committing to pantslessness early on, but the spill had soaked through my boxers, too. At any rate, thanks for giving me one last chance to look like an idiot in from of my friends, 2011.

2. Despite my better judgment, I'm so glad that I exchanged phone numbers with Bev, the older lady I met at the lesbian karaoke bar years ago because she still sends me ridiculous holiday greetings. LOOK AT THIS.

What you can't tell from the screen grab, however, is that it's an animated GIF. The boobs jiggle! They jiggle! I hope Bev finds a similar "bev"y of topless beauties in 2012.

3. Most importantly, our party broke into a vacant house and had a dance party in it. It was all too easy... the door was unlocked, the electricity still worked, and the lack of any physical objects (other than a rainbow feather duster, which made for a good prop) made it the perfect spacious space to plug in some speakers and bop around. As a committed member of the Occupy Wall Street movement, I support the notion of Occupying everything. If the banks are going to take homes from people and do nothing with them, I'll be damned if we can't throw dance parties in them.

My 50 Favorite Songs of 2011

2011-12-31T16:46:00.000-08:00

Wahoo! With the end of the year comes the annual tradition where I share my favorite songs of the past 12 months with you. It’s an opportunity to learn some new songs/bands, as well as laugh at my taste. It’s also an opportunity to kill your browser when it takes forever to load… YOU’RE WELCOME.

Each year as I compile this list, I note a new trend in how my musical preferences are skewing. Last year I was more into mainstream and R&B, but this year is a return to indie acts. There’s a bunch with male and female vocalist harmonizing and plenty of sing-along choruses.

This post is set up so you can sample/download songs individually (click play or share then download), or you can download them all as a ZIP file here. As always, the best way to support artists is to buy their music… hopefully by discovering them here, you’ll go out and do that on ITunes or something.

50. Over My Dead Body – Drake

This song is a clever and insightful look into the life of Drake, the man who puts the word “artist” in hip hop artist.

49. Louder Than Ever – Cold War Kids

The Cold War Kids are consistently good, so it was difficult choosing a favorite song from this year’s album. I suppose this is the track I play louder than ever, however.

48. The Honest Truth – Typhoon

I’m not going to lie, this song starts out a little slow, a little typical, but by the time it swells into a massive sing-along and the horns come in, the payoff is well worth the wait.

47. Under Cover of Darkness – The Strokes

It’s been five years since we’ve had a new Strokes album, but some things never change. It’s a new CD, but the same old Strokes style – and I like it.

46. Arms – Christina Perri

Though the song is slightly irritating due to its saccharine qualities, it’s one that got stuck in my head more than I care to admit. Besides, if Vanessa Carlton isn’t around to write this kind of song anymore, who will?

45. Lipstick – Jedward

Not many Americans will be familiar with the mischievous twins Jedward (John and Edward) who gained infamy on the UK’s X-Factor for staying long past their talent warranted. Nonetheless, the duo turned out a legitimately catchy song (in the best guilty pleasure kind of way) while representing Ireland in this year’s Eurovision contest.

44. Moonlight to Sunrise – Electric Valentine

Electric Valentine is a fun electronica band that puts on a great live show. This acoustic track is a vast departure from the rest of their music, but there’s something excellent in its simplicity.

43. Get in Line – I’m from Barcelona

I’m a sucker for an unreasonably large band, so with 29 members, I’m from Barcelona is a favorite of mine. When you have this many people singing and playing instruments, how can it not be a good time?

42. Good Feeling – Flo Rida

Sure, he caught my attention a few years ago with his Apple Bottom jeans and, more importantly, boots with the fur, but I wouldn’t have guessed one of his songs would become something that I genuinely like. The rapping’s all right, but it’s the Etta James sample that really makes this track. Respect your elders and use them well!

41. Cough Syrup – Young the Giant

Playing on the usual conventions that make alternative music enjoyable, Young the Giant made a song that goes down as smooth as cough syrup.

40. Estate Sign Sale – The Mountain Goats

I’m the first to admit that the Mountain Goats’s sound is more of an acquired taste. But I’ve got to give credit to my fellow Pitzer alum – the passion in his music is palpable, with this song being no exception.

39. Icarus – BASTILLE

BASTILLE is a new alterna-pop band coming out of London. BASTILLE still hasn’t released a full-length album yet, but I expect big things from the act. In fact, I know you’ll hear from BASTILLE again… much higher on this countdown.

38. Super Bass – Nicki Minaj

She’s received accolades for a while now, but “Super Bass” is the song that shot her from a featured performer to a superstar in her own right. This hit proves she can spit rhymes in a pop-friendly manner, too.

37. Paradise – Coldplay

The song starts out like your typical Coldplay fare, but once it reaches the midway point and the chorus offers up an infectious “Para-para-paradise”, it’s not hard to admit you’ve been suckered in.

36. Getting Me Down – Blawan

With all due respect to Brandy (so… a moderate amount?), I don’t think Brandy could make this good of a Brandy song anymore. Taking a 90s sample of a Brandy song and combining it with a subtle beat, Blawan has created the ideal club jam.

35. Berlin Wall – The Heavenly States

I never thought I’d be nostalgic for the Berlin Wall – truthfully, I don’t even know much about it – but this song has me interested. Every song I’ve heard by The Heavenly States is well-crafted, so check them out.

34. S&M – Rihanna

You’ve got to admire how Rihanna doesn’t just not shy away from sex, she throws it in your face with this raunchy hit. Even if chains and whips don’t excite you as much as it does Rihanna, it’s still an enjoyable song.

33. Expanding Anyway – Morning Teleportation

I enjoy the vocal trill the lead singer does on the verses, the staccato bounciness is reminiscent of a stone skipping on water. It pairs quite well with the slow shouting in the choruses.

32. What the Hell? – Avril Lavigne

I’m an unapologetic fan of Lavigne, as well as a fan of this unapologetic song about wanting to sow her wild oats. (I wonder if it stings her ex-husband from Sum41.) Sure, it’s still got some of Lavigne’s trademark brat in it, but it’s clear she’s come a long way in her songwriting from the “Sk8r Boi” days.

31. Lovers’ Carvings - Bibio

I’m not usually a fan of music without many lyrics (how can I sing along?), but I’ll make an exception for Bibio’s well-orchestrated songs. This song in particular starts out simply, then halfway through transitions to a poppy, peppy tune.

30. Squealing Pigs – Admiral Fallow

A bouncy, ho-down type song that got a deserved re-release this year. While I’m not sure the male and female’s harmonies come together that well, it’s the imperfection that sticks with you and will have you singing the chorus well after listening.

29. Little Talks – Of Monsters and Men

Because it’s time Iceland had a well-known musician other than Bjork! The back-and-forth between the vocalists is cute, and the “hey!”s that get peppered throughout are a real mood booster.

28. Colours – Grouplove

There’s something about the stuttering in this song that’s enjoyable. You don’t have to be a kindergartener to have fun listing colors (sorry, colours) when this song is playing.

27. Shake It Out – Florence & the Machine

I feared that the mainstream would turn Florence’s “Dog Days Are Over” into a one-hit wonder, but this equally enchanting song is helping to cement her presence. Commanding without going too far over-the-top, I’m down to shake it out with her.

26. Get It Daddy – Sleeper Agent

Borrowing some elements from punk without straying over too far from pop/rock, this knee-slapping sing-along from an emerging Kentucky band is worth your attention.

25. Call Your Girlfriend – Erato

Maybe this spot should go to the brilliant Robyn who originally performed this song, but I’m even more taken with Erato’s simple, harmonious cover of the boyfriend-stealing anthem. Accompanied only by table tapping, the women of Erato are pitch perfect and give the song a more somber point of view than Robyn dance song offers.

24. Katy on a Mission – Katy B

Katy B’s sweet voice is on just about every dubstep song you can find lately. However, I’m most taken by this lead single from her solo album about navigating her way through a dance club. Kind of an obvious narrative, sure, but sing what you know… and sing it as well as Katy B.

23. Novacane – Frank Ocean

Ocean is this year’s smooth-voiced R&B singer to watch. If this song were released in the 90s, it’d have been a top ten jam. While Ocean’s rise to fame hasn’t exactly been meteoric or anything, I wouldn’t count him out just yet: he’s got the pipes.

22. There Is No Sun – I’m from Barcelona

Contrary to the song’s title, there is plenty of sun when the massive chorus of I’m from Barcelona sings. These fine folks always put me in a good mood.

21. Hooked – Mayer Hawthorne

When I first heard this song, I assumed it was a Motown hit from decades ago that I wasn’t familiar with. Imagine my surprise to learn that it’s Hawthorne’s apparent ode to our favorite soulful jams. This song could lead a modern Motown revival; I’m digging it.

20. Take Off Your Shirt – Bibio

Though Bibio’s music is generally instrumental with sparse vocals, the act’s attempt at a genuine rock song is a certain success. You’d think they specialized in this style given the addictive results.

19.212 - Azealia Banks

Banks may bill herself as a rapper, but she can sing in so many interesting styles with her voice, I wouldn’t want to pigeonhole her. “212” showcases a bunch of different vocal approaches, all of which show remarkable talent. In fact, the song is so pleasant to the ears that it’s easy to overlook that the lyrics are super filthy.

18. Rolling in the Deep – Adele

Those in the know have been paying attention to Adele for a while now, but it’s no surprise that this great song would catapult her to superstardom. It proves that a song can highlight strong vocals (something pop radio generally lacks) without being just another boring ballad.

17. I Follow Rivers – Lykke Li

She may look like a timid, diminutive Swedish girl, but make no mistake: Li is a musical powerhouse. She always manages to do inventive thing with her music without losing her indie sensibilities. While her whole album is great, this track is the standout.

16. Why I Love You – Jay-Z & Kanye West

Though the duo’s collaborative album has gotten middling reviews, you can’t deny a hook this contagious. The interplay between their raps works well here, too.

15. We Found Love – Rihanna & Calvin Harris

Everyone wants to work with Rihanna, and who can blame ‘em? Good things come from her collaboration, with this song being no exception. But it’s Harris’s dance arrangement that really makes this song shine, complete with – as some pointed out to me – the song climaxing into a musical orgasm near the end of the song.

14. The Edge of Glory – Lady Gaga

Making a dance-backed power ballad that tops “Bad Romance” may not be an achievable feat, but Gaga shows she can pen more songs that entertain in the same way. Out of a bunch of good tracks on Born This Way, this one is the standout.

13. Headlines – Drake

I like Drake and really respect that he released a subdued song like this one for his first single rather than something super flashy. The content is still there, making for satisfying listening.

12. Lonely Boy – The Black Keys

Even great bands are guilty of having many of their songs sound alike, but I’m constantly impressed how each of the Black Keys’s songs has its own distinct sound. This lead single demonstrates the band’s creativity and range. If you haven’t checked out the jolly fellow who dances to this song in the video, do yourself a favor.

11. Exile Vilify – The National

Gentle yet haunting, the National’s ballad created for the soundtrack of Portal 2 is wrist-cuttingly good… if wrist-cutting were good, that is.

10. Night – Kavinsky

Yeah, so I called the Drive soundtrack cheesy, and while I stand by that, this track isn’t JUST cheese – it’s gorgonzola. And talk about evoking a mood: put this song on while you’re cruising and there’s no way you can’t feel important – and better still – totally cool. Juxtaposing a thuggish electronic voice with a quiet female voice shouldn’t work this well, but it does.

9. Young Blood – The Naked and Famous

This famous (not sure if they’re regularly naked) New Zealand band has finally made some noise in the U.S. I tried to resist this song initially, but its youthful exuberance with a dash of underlying hipster cynicism won me over.

8. Shake Me Down – Cage the Elephant

Cage the Elephant became had several hits on alternative radio this year, but it’s this song’s intermittent anger and repetition that suit lead singer Matthew Shultz’s nasally voice the best. Seven consecutive utterances of the lyric “even on a cloudy day” may seem excessive, but I’m still not ready for him to be done with the line as the song concludes.

7. You Know What I Mean – The Cults

It’s not normal to feel so compelled to snap along to a ballad, but you’re going to have to sit on your hands not to want to participate with this song. Moreover, each time the song swells to a dramatic crescendo, the intensity is contagious. I may not know exactly what the Cults mean, but I’m prepared to agree with whatever she’s singing about.

6. Flaws – BASTILLE

A lot of performers lose their accents while singing, but I love how BASTILLE’s British charm is still identifiable as he makes his way through this catchy tune. If BASTILLE can make the leap from the indie scene, I reckon this song is destined to be a smash.

5. This Is Why We Fight – The Decemberists

This year’s Decemberists album is solid and I’m especially smitten with this track, which showcases what the band does best: blending a complicated arrangement with meaningful lyrics.

4. Someone Like You – Adele

Adele deserves all the adoration she receives: she definitely has the songwriting talent to match her magnificent chops. In another artist’s hands, this song might be forgettable, but Adele makes you feel every ounce of hurt in her performance. If this song doesn’t make you want to weep, you’re already dead inside.

3. Till the World Ends – Britney Spears

After several “comebacks” over the years, it takes an apocalyptic song, easily her best in a decade, to get me excited again. It’s not just pop, it’s arena rock; if Jock Jams were still a musical institution, it would fit perfectly. Surely a stadium full of people would want to chant the “whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh”s with me?

2. Helena Beat – Foster the People

Radio stations are still playing the hell out of “Pumped up Kicks”, my #11 song from last year. It’s a shame that people haven’t opened their ears to this even better Foster the People song. “Helena Beat” is slightly unusual, but a whole lotta fun.

1. The City – Patrick Wolf

In a rare feat, my first favorite song of the year is still my favorite at the end of the year. I’ve been a fan of Wolf for a few years now, particularly enjoying how his music manages to be both grandiose and whimsical simultaneously. It’s a style all his own and I give him a lot of credit for it.

Again, you can download all 50 songs here.

Buried Gas Line

2011-12-29T19:59:00.000-08:00

Just uncovered some photos from a previous New Year's Eve.

I found a flag that said "buried gas line" in the hosts' yard that was there for what I assume was safety's sake and then I pulled it out of the ground and shoved it down my pants because - HA - buried gas line. FROM MY BUTT!

This year I'll probably ring in the new year in a classier manner. I'm not resolving it or anything, but you know, odds are I can't get more lowbrow than that. Guess we'll just have to see...

Away in a Coffin

2011-12-25T18:57:00.000-08:00

The other night I recounted how, just two years ago, my sibling thought Christmas was a holiday that commemorated Jesus's death. My friend diplomatically reasoned that my sibling has a gift for blocking out information that's not relevant to her. If that's the case, as far as I can tell, only fashion and Kate Hudson movies are relevant to her.

At a Christmas Eve service last night, the minister read Bible verses about Jesus being born and we sang no fewer than five carols about Jesus being born. A redundant message, sure, but the reason for the season, after all.
Turning to my sibling, I whispered, "So, when did Jesus die?"
"I don't know... Christmas?"
I laughed at her joke.
"What?" she asked earnestly.
I laughed even harder because it turned out she wasn't joking.

Not only was my sister not paying attention to the service, including the words she was singing out of the hymnal, but she had managed to forget the very fact we had teased her for relentlessly just two Christmases before.

Some things never change.

Please Knock

2011-12-24T13:59:00.000-08:00

Melinda's niece hung this sign on her door.

I understand the need to knock first, that would be quite an awkward thing to walk in on.

In the words of Bing Crosby, "And may all your Christmas gifts be raped."

Do They Know It's Offensive?

2011-12-22T19:44:00.000-08:00

Do They Know It's Christmas? - Allison, Kevin & Friends

When Allison and I recorded our Christmas CD last year, we invited a bunch of our friends to join us on the holiday song featuring all of your favorite 80s artists, "Do They Know It's Christmas?" While everyone was familiar with the tune, other than the chorus, we all needed the karaoke track lyrics to do the verses. And I think it's fair to say we were actually shocked by how offensive the words really are.

"Do they know it's Christmas time at all?" Given that the majority of Africans aren't Christian, the better question is whether they even care. And then the lament "there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time" is absurd. If it snowed, the residents would probably freeze and be ill-prepared to deal with it.

Even though the song raised money for Ethiopia specifically, the lyrics merely refer to "Africa" as a singular place, thus contributing to the ignorant misconception that Africa is a country. On top of that, they make it uniformly sound like a hellhole. According to the lyrics, Africa is "a world of dread and fear, where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears. And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom."

The worst part might be Bono's sole line, "Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you." Um, how about not "thanking God" that other people are starving? That's a pretty awful thing to be thankful for. Anytime someone refers to Bono as a humanitarian, I wish someone would counter by playing his heartfelt take on such a cringeworthy lyric.

Look, it's nice that the song raised a lot of money for famine in Ethiopia, but how cool would it be for me to donate to a charity while saying, "This is because you suck and are hopeless without me." Why not just spit on the check?

I can't believe that celebs like Sting and Duran Duran didn't object to the un-PC words. In a sign that the artists aren't remotely aware, I direct you to wikipedia's awesome behind-the-scenes story that says Boy George called George Michael "camp" at the recording. Talk about a ridiculously catty pot/kettle moment.

Merry Christmas, everybody! Especially you, Africa, because boy do you need it!

LA Corrections

2011-12-21T23:52:00.001-08:00

Two things about my recent What-To-Do-In-L.A. post:

First an error spotted by Andrew:

Apparently, I suggested getting authentic Korean food in Korea. Wow that's a particularly hostile attitude toward Los Angeles! Well, Andrew, maybe I was one of the first to know of Kim Jong Il's death and was encouraging people to travel there while the getting's good. Did you even think about that?

No, actually I was trying to finish that post quickly since I had an elk-loaf in the oven (for realz) and made quite a few typos in my haste, as evidenced by the phrase "all-you-can Korean". Koreatown. I meant Koreatown.

Second, Stacy has a new important addendum to the story about the performance artist dressed as Jesus in a diaper that I referenced as one of the worst thing in LA:

Oh dear! Leah and my other sightseeing readers, there's hope you can still see that freak show yet! Just beware the milk.

Catmas

2011-12-20T23:17:00.000-08:00

Time to step your game up. Lindsay and her roommates' Christmas card is better than yours.

In Heaven

2011-12-17T21:36:00.000-08:00

I’m really excited about the new Facebook Timeline and its ability to immortalize how drunk I was the other night.

My Suggestions for Visiting LA

2011-12-15T16:37:00.000-08:00

Thanks for the kind words, I genuinely appreciate hearing from readers.

At the same time, I also question whether you’re thinking of the right person! I live in LA, but I don’t think I’m too complimentary of it on my blog. Don’t get me wrong, I like it here, and I’m positive you’ll thoroughly enjoy your overdue vacation because there’s so much for tourists. That said, I’m broke and prefer dive bars and vaguely dangerous hangouts; Molls would be a better person to ask about the trendier aspects of the city.

I know I recently said that the LA tourism board should hire me after referring a visitor to our interactive homicide map, but that was a joke. When I browse back through my blog, I mostly see things that would scare away tourists. In fact, my blog kind of reads like recommendations from SNL’s Stefan.

Come to LA and see…

In case you need clarification, please don’t try to see any of those things. They will ruin your vacation. Now if you’re a local looking for a little adventure, I’d be happy to hook you up with the addresses of some of these places.

Since you asked so nicely, allow me to step out of Stefan/my normal blogging mode to give you a few genuine suggestions for those visiting LA:

The Griffith Observatory is my favorite place in LA. You can drive to the top, but I’d actually suggest hiking to the top on one of the trails in the late afternoon. Bring a picnic dinner/take-out with you and stay until nightfall, so you get to see the stupendous view of LA from both vantage points. You can also see the Hollywood sign well from there, so you can check that off, too.
LA actually has some great museums. The Getty is an experience (and on the coast if you want to double up on a beach trip) and is free other than parking. I like the Natural History Museum, too. And if you’re in the mood for something odd, give the Museum of Jurassic Technology a try. Just promise not to google it for anything other than its address because it’s something best experienced blindly.
Since you’re not from LA, you might be a person who actually eats/eats meat (we have a lot of beautiful anorexic vegans here.) One dining experience I’d recommend is Wurstkuche. It may sound dirty, but it’s actually a trendy (so go on a weekday) place with exotic sausages. And if you enjoy eating A LOT of meat, I’d say go to for authentic all-you-can-eat Korean BBQ in Koreatown. And in all honesty, eat at least one meal from a truck. Food trucks are locals’ preferred mode of dining, and you can find trucks with not just Mexican food, but grilled cheese, mac & cheese, sandwiches, lobster, etc.

A lot of the best events will be time specific, so grab a copy of LA Weekly when you’re out here to make sure you’re not missing anything exciting! Have fun!

Person of the Year

2011-12-14T09:37:00.000-08:00

Raise your hand if you've been named Time's Person of the Year twice in the past decade.

As a blogger and Occupier, I'm flattered by the repeat recognition. While it's not easy to bear the burden of being your Person of the Year, I assure you that I take the honor seriously. I promise to be a better Person than any damn corporation anyway.

Next year, it is my intention to win this distinction yet again, only this time as an individual. It is time for the publication to realize that I'm pretty awesome in my own right. I'm willing to share the accolades for now, but everyone's going to take notice of Kevin when I singlehandedly save the world in 2012. I can't tell you how because it's a secret plan, but when the apocalypse doesn't happen next year, the masses will be shouting, "Thank you for saving our lives, Kevin, Person of the Year!"

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Two wins is quite the achievement in itself. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a resume to update.

Insert Joke Here

2011-12-13T22:44:00.001-08:00

There is nothing lazier than a comedy writer who uses an [insert *whatever* joke here].

Has anyone ever even laughed at one of those? Like, haha, a joke could go there! I'm giggling just thinking of a potential joke that fits there!

I suppose the implication is that the joke flows so obviously that there's no reason to even write it. But isn't "[insert joke here]" even more of a cliche at this point?

If a joke is so simple, why not just write one then? It shouldn't be that hard to just push one out. [Insert poop joke here.] Besides, if your reader can just as easily make a comparable joke, it's time for you to get out of the game.

In conclusion, [insert poignant and hilarious joke here.]

Stroke

2011-12-12T19:12:00.000-08:00

So one of the more memorable people I encountered at Occupy LA was a performer by the name of Man GooGoo. [Like the Goo Goo Dolls - but more mature.] He was handing out lyrics of protest songs he had written to passersby.

I glanced at the first song, curiously titled "Stroke":

Stroke to the left
Stroke to the right
Stroke all day
Stroke all night
Stroke to the left and stroke to the right
Come on everybody let's stroke tonight
Stroke to the left and stroke to the right
Come on everybody and grip it tight
The government strokes you
So does (sic) the cops
Your neighbor strokes you
It never stops
You go to work
Get stroke (sic) there too
Now it's your turn
The strokes on you

I mean, it's labelled a protest song, but it "strokes" me as a bit more masturbatory. You know, a song that puts the "man goo" in Man GooGoo.

Nonetheless, it's a shame that none of the protesters knew the tune that accompanied "Stroke"'s lyrics. Perhaps chorally breaking out in unison would have been enough to sway the cops to halt the raid instead of, you know, stroking us.

On that note, it appears that Man GooGoo was the first person to be arrested that night. Yeah, that makes sense.

Sportspeople of the Year

2011-12-09T10:18:00.000-08:00

There is no way that Sports Illustrated isn't purposely giving a middle finger to UConn basketball fans with this cover. I mean, either one of these people* wouldn't faze me much, but to put the coaches of both the men and women's teams' main rivals on the cover as sportsman and sportswoman of the year is like declaring war with the residents o Connecticut. In absence of an actual professional team to root for, Connecticutians take this stuff seriously, and best believe that there will be a bunch of cancelled subscriptions in the Nutmeg State.

Look, I'm not saying that the UConn coaches deserve to be named sportsmen either. In fact, over the years, I actually have developed negative opinions of them, too, given their numerous ethical and personal flaws. Yeah, yeah, you can cancel your subscription to me, too, Connecticutians, but you know it's only blind loyalty to the teams that lead you to ignore the stories.

But still! This cover is too much! Sports Illustrated has managed to rile me up after I vowed not to care about sports anymore.

* I take it back, Pat Summit alone would upset me. She is a nasty, poor sport. I know there's a lot of pity and sudden admiration for her now that she's been diagnosed with early onset dementia, but that doesn't excuse her sour attitude... unless she's had dementia for the entirety of her career.

3-Way Thrift

2011-12-07T18:43:00.000-08:00

If not my favorite thrift store, 3-Way Thrift is definitely my favorite named thrift store.

Because nothing says used goods like feeling good and used. And while secondhand is great, having a fifth&sixthhand in the mix is even better.

It may surprise you to learn that 3-Way is a Christian thrift store. Apparently, they've disregarded a threeway's sexual connotation and chosen the name to signify that the proceeds from the store go to three Christian charities. All of the charities receive an equal amount, which is not generally how it shakes out for threeway participants, so that's pretty considerate anyway.

You might be understandably nervous the first time you go to this place, but I think you'll wind up liking your 3-Way experience. With a good selection, affordable prices, and a friendly staff, you might even call it a ménage à trois. Bring a friend --preferably two.

Nightraider

2011-12-06T22:30:00.000-08:00

Even though sleep should be a reprieve from waking life, I tend to bring the stress in my life into my unconscious moments, too.

In college, when I was burdened with essays, I'd go to sleep and dream about working on the essays to the point where I'd just decide to get up and work on them since it was consuming my every thought anyway.

When I started teaching, it overwhelmed me to the point that I sleep-dialed (the tired man's drunk dial) a friend to check on a student, and would routinely wake up and freak out that a giant bed had replaced the desks in my classroom until minutes later I would grasp that I was in my bedroom, not at school.

Another time, after considering the horrors of war, in my sleep I took off my sock and hung it on the wall as a sign of surrender.

And now it's happening again. Ever since the raid of Occupy LA, I dream a lot about it. Some of the Occupy delegates warned us beforehand that some people wouldn't be mentally strong enough to handle watching the scene unfold, but I didn't think that would apply to me.

I'm terrified of the police state. Last night I dreamt that my home was being raided by the police. So caught up in my dream narrative, I sleptwalked and put my wallet in my pocket so I'd have my ID on me when I was arrested. In the morning, my side hurt because I had actually slept on my wallet. I can't believe that the dream was so real to me that I got out of bed to do that.

Nightmares are generally an exaggeration of real thoughts, but it doesn't help to have my conscious mind corroborate my nightmares. I really do fret to see those in power overriding other's constitutional rights because they can get away with it.

A friend of mine agrees with the concepts of the movement but will not participate in any manner out of fear of repercussions. He very pointedly asked, "What if you don't succeed?" His feeling is that if the corruption is as systematic as some suspect, that makes you vulnerable should the powers that be stay in power.

I'm not really a conspiracy theorist, and I don't yet think things are that bad that protesters will start mysteriously disappearing on a grand scale, though I do believe we are setting the precedent to have such things happen in the future if we don't solve it soon. However, I do realize there's a risk in speaking out against the government... a risk, as I see it, that's worth taking.

The word "patriot" has been co-opted to mean not questioning authority and blindly declaring the US the best country in the world. And the only way to honestly believe that right now is to not pay attention to all of our country's problems. I believe that the US has the ability to be the best country in the world, but that's going to require changes. What's more patriotic than trying to improve your country?

So, yeah, I'm fairly scared, but not deterred. Any screaming in the night that may result from my participation just mirrors all of the screaming we should be doing during the day.

Deliciously Evil

2011-12-04T20:24:00.000-08:00

"She would offer me her old clothes because they were 'too big' for her but might still fit me. Oh, and she would ask mutual friends to hypothetically state who'd they rather eat if we were stranded on a deserted island to trick people into saying I had more meat on my body than her."

- My friend describing her freshman roommate with a "competitive eating disorder"

The Usual

2011-12-03T19:06:00.001-08:00

How do you spell the abbreviation of the word "usual"? As in: "I'll have the uzj."

Hey, I said I didn't know how to spell it.

It can't be "us", that's just too confusing. Is there a Z? a J? a G? It rhymes with rouge and luge, so maybe "uge" is the way to go? Maybe it needs a Y to start it off?
Yuge?

All of my questions might lead you to one of your own: Why would you ever need to know how to spell the abbreviated form of usual?

Shut up.

My Firsthand Account of the Occupy Los Angeles Raid

2011-11-30T16:24:00.000-08:00

I stood with the 99% in defending the Occupy Los Angeles encampment around City Hall last night. While I witnessed no outlandish displays of violence, what I did see still terrified me, so I want to share my account for all who couldn’t see the madness in person.

Truthfully, I was still a bit weary after staying up most of the night Sunday, the night the raid was initially supposed to occur. Whether the police ever planned to actually raid on Sunday night was irrelevant, I suppose, because they couldn’t have. Not effectively, anyway, our numbers were too strong. But maintaining those numbers permanently was never going to be feasible, so the cops waited until we were tired and depleted. When word spread that it looked like the raid would actually happen, I cancelled my plans and got down there immediately. I didn’t think we could stop the evacuation, but that wasn’t going to stop me from voicing my opinion and standing in solidarity.

While I occupy full time in my mind, I rarely physically occupy. I’m not out there camping at night. For me the camp is a symbol, a symbol that I obviously want to see stand. That said, I know the movement is strong and will continue with or without tents. But it’s not just a symbol for many who live there. About 1/3 of the campers are homeless. I hate when critics bring up this statistic as if to suggest their numbers shouldn’t count – as though the homeless haven’t been affected most drastically by bad economic policies and have no grievances about the system like the other protesters. At the encampment, the homeless have found something they can’t find elsewhere in LA – a safe place to pitch a tent, regular and free access to a bathroom and food, and most importantly, a community that not only acknowledges but includes them. Shame on a society that deprives people of so much and wants to take this away from them, too.

But anyway, you want to hear about the raid. About a thousand protesters amassed in support of the park, less than half of Sunday’s count. Like Sunday, however, there was a lot of listlessness. The protesters were just waiting for the police to make a move. While there was some strategizing (kudos to those who climbed trees and made capture especially difficult for the police), given that it’s a peaceful demonstration, there was no need to plan a counterattack. However, we all had our theories on how the police would handle the situation. Even though we all knew it was going to happen, the manner in which the police invaded took us all by surprise.

Without warning, hundreds of officers came out of nowhere storming the protesters. They emerged running from streets, alleys, and even City Hall itself to surround the park. It was like a well-choreographed scene from a hundred million dollar action movie. Their swift movement was brilliant and caused the crowd to run, scream, and cry. I’ve never shouted the word “fuck” so much in my life. We were very blatantly under attack.

Here’s the thing – they didn’t have to actually be shooting at you to make you feel attacked. In that instance, when hundreds of armed people in riot gear are charging right at you, everything in your gut says, “We are about to die.” And I say that as someone who always thought the police were going to behave. We still haven’t healed from the Rodney King era, and after the mistakes of other cities like Oakland and New York City, I figured the LAPD would go to great lengths to avoid a PR nightmare. But even if they didn’t brutalize most of us physically, they certainly did it psychologically. They purposely made us all feel like we were about to be slaughtered. Tactical, sure, but remember these are extreme measures against people who were guilty of staying in a park after hours. The same park the Mayor promised protesters they could stay in as long as they wanted until a sudden change of heart, undoubtedly do to corporate and political pressure.

Rather quickly, the police had circled various areas, trapping everyone in. People who wanted to go home were not permitted to leave. Officers would say, “You can get out over there,” and point in some direction, even though there was no exit. Every few minutes, the police lines would move in closer to make protesters feel more claustrophobic and imprisoned. Once we were all successfully divided and corralled, the police finally announced we were an unlawful assembly and that we had ten minutes to disperse. They claimed to make this proclamation on behalf of the “people of California”, which the protesters rightfully heckled, “We ARE the people of California.” Many attendees panicked because, despite a ten-minute warning, they still weren’t letting anyone leave. Was this a trick?

I was stuck in a section next to some mainstream reporters who had not been cleared to cover Occupy LA. Beforehand, the LAPD threatened that all media in the park who hadn’t been handpicked by LAPD itself would be subject to arrest no different than protesters. The reporters, like the protesters, probably figured there would be at least some warning before being kettled, so they were visibly nervous and frustrated when the police denied them an opportunity to exit. I hope they report this experience, but I suspect that

The initial ten-minute timeframe expired so as to thoroughly frighten all the would-be dispersers who couldn’t disperse. Then another ten-minute warning was issued, and after a few minutes of that, protesters trapped in the street areas were permitted to exit. Those who remained in the streets would be the first to be arrested, as they wanted to clear out that area first and establish an even stronger perimeter. I wanted to be in the park for the big showdown, but that was no longer an option. When the police swarmed initially, I tried to rush into the park, but was blocked out, so I missed out on that opportunity, although a couple of my friends managed to get inside. So at this point, I had the choice of being civilly disobedient on the street and being in the first group hauled away, or to cross to the other side of the police line and watch from a greater distance, which was the option that myself and most of the demonstrators in my area chose. My feeling is that if I’m going to keep participating in demonstrations, I need to limit my arrests to when I’m not given an option to step away at the last minute, though I have a lot of admiration for the 292 Angelinos who stood their ground. The nearly 300 that were arrested were/are held on $5000 bail (talk about excessive). Many of the lawyers had assumed the protesters who did not resist arrest would just be cited and released due to the prisons already being full (heck, Lindsay Lohan was just SENTENCED to hard time and left after an hour), but they clearly wanted to make an example and scare them from participating again. That much is evident.

Now outside of the perimeter, we became a chanting mob of hundreds on the other side of the barricade. From time to time, the police would push us backward a few feet. At one point, I was at the front and was getting bumped with an officer’s baton as he kept demanding we step back. The baton was held the long way and not painful in itself, but I was getting crushed between the officer’s pushing me in one direction and the pushing back by the crowd trying to stand its ground. “Stop shoving!” I screamed at the officer. After all, they were trying to get us back a few feet for no purpose other than to display their power.

From that distance, I wasn’t able to witness the events in the park for myself, though I’ve since seen YouTube videos of guns being pointed in unarmed protesters’ faces and others being shoved to the ground by officers. What I did see was the crowd growing rowdy on the outside of the police line, wishing to show support to the hundreds being arrested in the park. Effectively, what the police did was push the people away from the park and to the other side of where they were standing, but that did not succeed in breaking up the protest. Now people were just assembled in the streets forty yards away from the park. Eventually the police had to declare this new gathering an “unlawful assembly” and try to disperse that too, which involved some baton whacking and what would probably look like comical chase scenes if Benny Hill music was playing as a soundtrack. It wasn’t so amusing in the moment, however.

When one of these sudden clashes/chases broke out with police and protesters, that’s when my friends and I sprinted down the street away from the scene. Even getting out was a fiasco. A cop who said she would escort me through police lines grabbed me by the arm (without warning – it wasn’t especially rough or anything, but it’s scary when you’re all of the sudden grabbed by an officer after everything else that had gone down) and an officer at the other end of the street still didn’t want to let me through. The officer holding me asked what she was supposed to do with me, then, if not let me leave. Yet again, there’s a lot of “you must leave the area/you can’t leave the area” and finally the second officer gruffly let me pass. My car was behind a separate barricade. I probably would have had a lot more trouble getting back to it were there not a business man parked next to me who was also waiting to have access to his car. An officer first searched my car with a flashlight, and then when given the go-ahead, I was again restrained by having both arms grabbed (again, not that forcefully, BUT STILL) when escorted to my car.

The press conference afterward made me sick. The mayor and the police officials cheered themselves on doing a perfect job. First, let’s give them some credit: to my knowledge there were no tear gas, no rubber bullets, and seemingly fewer police violations than in other such raids, but I think at least half of that credit is shared with the protesters whose response to the police’s advances did not make them feel like they had to use such measures. But while you can give the police kudos for the execution, you can never call it a job worth doing. There was no reason for that kind of intimidation for that petty of an infraction.

For as much as I’ve been watching live feeds of Occupy scuffles in other cities, I didn’t fully grasp the extent to which we live in a police state until I saw the police swarm on peaceful people with my own eyes. If this is indeed “the finest moment in the history of the LAPD” as Mayor Villaraigosa said, then the LAPD should be ashamed. Shouldn’t their finest moment involve protecting and serving LA residents rather than suppressing them? My friend recently had her home robbed of her valuables and you know what LAPD told her? They can’t investigate or do anything about it because they are understaffed and under-funded. Yet they can afford to pay 1400 officers to terrorize and apprehend a few hundred campers who have the first amendment on their side.

And I think that’s perhaps the most frustrating conclusion I’ve drawn: the LAPD is powerful, clearly capable of pulling together a masterful plan to take down an opposing operation. So why aren’t they harnessing this man and brainpower against the rampant gang violence or any of the other things that make this city notoriously unsafe?

Witnessing this all unfold, seeing how the people at top so desperately want to squash this movement just cements my commitment to the cause even more. But there are so many rich entities working against it that the only way this populous movement will succeed is to genuinely have the population behind it. So I urge you to not just acknowledge that what’s happening is wrong, but to find a way to participate civically to change our current course.

(Above photo from the Guardian; I like their signs.)

Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes

2011-11-29T18:35:00.000-08:00

I got my mail after coming home at midnight the other day, saw what looked like a wedding invitation and said aloud, "Oh god, who the fuck is getting married now?!" Bitter much? Apparently so, but my mood turned around when I found what might be the funniest save-the-date card ever.

It's extra funny because, as longtime readers already know, Heather is the queen of "That's what she said." The fact that she put that on her card just goes to show that while you can put a ring on it, she'll still come on top. (Yup, that's what she said.)

As for why Heather's getting married, I don't totally understand, but I have three decent guesses:
1. Patrick is a good guy. Granted, I've only met him once, but if you can come across as a nice, put-together guy while in Las Vegas, that seems like a pretty good litmus test. A litmus test I admittedly wouldn't pass myself.
2. She's a young Jewish lady marrying a doctor. Her parents probably planned this for her before she was born.
3. She's too lazy to find a new sexual partner.

But anyway, congratulations, I guess, and good luck birthing the Messiah.

My Amoosing Pun

2011-11-28T22:23:00.000-08:00

How do you stop a raid of the Occupy LA encampment at its planned time? Flood the area with supporters, making it too difficult for the police to follow through. I'm proud to have been one of the thousands of protesters present into the wee hours of the morning. People of all backgrounds were there to lend their voices - including a cycling cow.

I liked the cow, as it added a touch of levity to a sometimes tense scenario, and of course the press was going to find a way to mention the bovine, too. My friend Adam quoted a Time article - "A group on bicycles circled the block, one of them in a cow suit" - on my Facebook wall.

Immediately I responded, "The revolution will not be pasteurized!"

And, like, for real, I felt on the top of my game. I caught myself by such surprise with my own cleverness and wit that I legitimately cracked myself up. Have you ever done that to yourself before? If your response is, "No, I'm not self-absorbed enough to crack myself up, Kevin," my response back to you is that you're just not creative enough to be capable of doing so. Go suck an udder, haters.

I liked my own joke so much that I googled it, you know, just to make sure I could call it a Kevin original. But Google is a dream killer. Time and time again, Google proves that with 7 billion people in the world, it's nearly impossible to be the first at anything anymore. In this specific case, "The revolution will not be pasteurized!" is already the slogan of raw milk activists, apparently.

Ugh. UGGGGH. Why can't the world let me think I'm funny? Just leave me in peace to laugh at myself and give myself kudos for my own creativity! I'm sorry if all that hormone-filled milk I've been drinking left me less quick at the draw than these raw milk hippies, but I also needed to wait for the right context to arise to spark this inspiration.

I can't believe I'm even in the 99% when it comes to puns. WHEN WILL MY DAY COME?

Gobble Gobble

2011-11-25T16:22:00.000-08:00

Guess who bowled a turkey (three consecutive strikes) on Turkey Day.
It's a Thanksgiving miracle! Or, as Preston (who also managed the feat) called it, destiny.

Like a holiday feast: IN YOUR FACE!

And You Smell Like One!

2011-11-24T18:57:00.000-08:00

"Hey, I can see your butt crack!"
- A homeless man to me as I bent over to pick up litter at an event I volunteered at today. I "thanked" him, of course, as it's the day for that, but the only way for the incident to be more ironic is if a plumber had delivered me the news.

How Facebook Helped Me Solve a Mystery... and Destroy a Relationship

2011-11-21T15:03:00.000-08:00

Who says that browsing through Facebook photos is a waste of time? Yesterday, this normally useless activity helped me to not only solve a mystery, but destroy a relationship.

For context, I must take you back to three years ago when I attended a circus-themed party. In need of a costume, I decided to be a trained circus bear, which I achieved by brutally gutting a giant teddy bear and repurposing it into something wearable. It's the closest that I'll ever come to being a Project Runway contestant. Afterward, my friend Terri was so enamored with the costume that I gifted it to her. Since then she has worn it while driving, worn it to work, and she even devoted some of her limited luggage space to take it to London with her.

Anyway, fast forward to a few weeks ago when I was at a warehouse party on Halloween weekend surrounded by hundreds of strangers. Amongst them was a dude wearing a bear costume similar to the one I made. At first I was like "oh, someone had the same idea, maybe I'm not so creative at all." But when I passed by him again later, the closer I got, the more it really seemed like my costume. "I think that guy's wearing a costume I made a few years ago!" I told a couple of my friends, who were polite, but I don't think believed that what I was suggesting was possible. Heck, I didn't understand how it would be possible myself, other than that I had made the thing with my "bear" hands so my intuition said it was the one I made.

The next day, I texted Terri to ask whether she had loaned out the bear costume to someone because I thought I saw it at a party. "I WOULD NEVER LET IT OUT OF MY SIGHT!" she told me. So it must be a different costume, I decided, letting the suspicion drop.

That is until yesterday when glancing at some Facebook photos, I saw the guy in the bear costume in an album her roommate was tagged in. That seemed like too big a coincidence, so I confronted Terri when I saw her in person. I started by calling her a liar, and when she realized there was evidence, she became upset. It turned out Terri wasn't a liar, but that her roommate lent out the costume without her permission. Trouble!

And then Terri told her roommate that she was moving out. Granted, she had already decided to move and was waiting to find the right time to tell him, but what better way than to announce it dramatically after what would seem to be a trivial fight? The move was more likely inspired by her roommate's drunk friend puking on her couch and urinating on her books, but that's another story. Just let him think the bear theft was the last straw.

Anyway, mystery solved... relationship destroyed. Meanwhile, I can only take it as a compliment that my costume was stolen and worn out to a party as it speaks to my creative abilities. Still, there's one more mystery that needs solving: the bear has since gone missing. While listlessly surfing through strangers' Facebook photos, should you notice this bear costume anywhere, please let me know. We need all the clues we can gather to identify his current whereabouts.

In Which I Babble about How Pathetic I Am on a Saturday Night

2011-11-19T23:41:00.000-08:00

Normally I'd make an attempt to conceal my loser-dom, but I think it's time to just own up to where I'm at in life. I had all-day plans with a few friends today who bailed on me because they decided they'd rather sleep in. So then I made tentative night plans with another friend, who also bailed so that she could go to bed. At 8:45! Looks like I'm making the wrong plans with the wrong friends at the wrong times.

I've left the house for all of 10 minutes today, with my one departure being a quick trip to the ATM to deposit a check. And I didn't even succeed at that because I forgot it at home. And rather than just going right back with the check like a normal person, I decided against it in fear that someone would notice me return so soon. So what have I done today instead? Watched a lot of kid game shows on YouTube and looked at pictures of the girls from Korea's Next Top Model. As trivial as that is, it did lead to some deep questions, like "Am I racist for not thinking these girls are that attractive?" I'm not sure about the racist part, but I'm confident that it makes me pathetic.

The reason it's even more embarrassing that I'm at home is because I have a new roommate who's 5 years younger than me. I like her, but I worry that she realizes I was at home all day with nothing to do and has branded me a loser already. She already questioned me on my plans last night, and I wasn't sure how to respond. Do I tell her that I had been invited to go out by one friend, but I declined so that I could get up a reasonable hour? Do I tell her I now regret the decision seeing as I later learned I wouldn't need to get up early after all? Do I tell her that I also got invited out by the same group of friends who preemptively bailed on me for the following morning, but I didn't even entertain the notion because I felt it would make me complicit in providing them with the reason they wouldn't be able to get up the next morning? My rationales seemed logical to me, but I worry she could reasonably find them neurotic.

Part of me wants to explain to my new roommate "when you get to my age, you just can't hang as much anymore" to excuse my behavior. Besides, it's true. Now that I'm 28, I think of myself as 30. 30 used to scare me, yet now that I have 2 years to go, I'm already rounding up. In my head, I honestly think all the time that I'm "like 30." It's as if I've given up.

I mean, I haven't given up. It's become increasingly obvious that while I can join my friends for shared interests, I can't expect them to do participate in interests they don't share. While I keep trying new activities to meet new people in the hopes of figuring out what I want from life socially, it's not coming easily. Part of me is considering going back to AA (which I have gone to previously as an observer, not an addict), just because I know it's a supportive group of people who do sober activities. It seems like it'd be fun to have nights where the go-to activity isn't imbibing. Does that make me more pathetic? Is that a sign that I really am 30 and not in my 20s anymore? Or is it a sign that I'm an immature idiot that I'd even contemplate pretending to be a recovering alcoholic to one group of people while still going out to bars with other groups of friends?

The best thing about this post is that everyone is really going to want to hang out with me now. I seem like a lot of fun and not at all crazy. But maybe your mom can call my mom anyway? I could really go for an arranged play date right now. Someone else needs to figure out the social life of this "30"-year-old because I can't handle it right now.

How I Was Occupied at Occupy

2011-11-18T18:52:00.000-08:00

Forward: This post is about an experience I had at the Occupy LA protests yesterday. That said, I promise it's a humorous anecdote and not a political rant, so no need for the apathetic to be scared.

Because Occupy LA's events started so early in order to have solidarity with NYC's activity, I actually awoke at 5am. Without a doubt, that is the hour I am most least likely to be awake normally, with the few exceptions being when I have yet to go to bed. Having only slept a few hours, I had to ask myself if I really was going to go for this, but I decided the cause was too important and I hopped on a train to downtown.

While I stood on the outer circle of a chanting rally, a frantic man approached asking for help. "I need people to hold signs!" "What kind of signs?" I asked. Because there were so many different viewpoints present, I didn't want to hold a sign that I didn't agree with. "Homemade signs!" he said, as if I were expecting one of those professionally made signs the movement is known for. Hesitantly, I followed.

Along with five other strangers who were also too nice to say to no, I found myself in front of six large red signs, each with a different phrase. I didn't understand what it was about until someone pointed out that it rhymed. "Oh, it's a poem!" another woman realized. "It's a Burma-Shave!" the sign creator corrected.

It read:
Hey Bankers: Shared Sacrifice?
Don't You Get It, We Played Nice. [I held this one]
Bailed You Out with $16 TRILLION,
Jobs Are Gone for 24 MILLION.
Stop Our Protest, Are You Nuts?
What We Want is JOBS NOT CUTS!

Here's the thing: Burma-Shave's work great alongside a highway, but they are not practical in a protest setting. Not only were the signs a bit unwieldy to start, but our march is not a parade. It's an unorganized mob of people. Staying close to each other was not only difficult, but as the flow of traffic and the space available in the street fluctuated, it was actually impossible. At some point someone told us we were backwards and told us to reorder ourselves. Since the signs were double-sided, what read forwards one way was then going to be backwards from the other direction, but I only argued this point twice before finally just rearranging myself in the realization that I wasn't getting through to anybody.

The sign creator, or "The Poet" as we sign carriers became referring to him as, ran a tight ship. When one carrier fell a few strides behind, generally due to no fault of his own, The Poet would inform her that she was lagging behind. All we could do was laugh because he was being a bit demanding of people who were kind enough to help him pull off his creative vision. Besides, why wasn't he holding any of these signs? As other protesters shouted, "This is what a democracy looks like!" I whispered to the girl next to me, "This is what a dictatorship looks like!"

At least the sign holders, became chummy with one another through this bizarre shared experience. All six of us were total strangers to each other, but we did have one main things in common: we were pushovers who resigned ourselves to just holding the sign even though we had no particular attachment to the message. We also found The Poet's attempts to point at each of us individually to prompt us to scream out our respective sign's slogan pretty laughable.

A man who was holding the sign to my right seemed legitimately terrified of The Poet. When we reached the intersection we were taking over, he pretty much ran for his life, handing off his sign to a nearby unsuspecting woman with no explanation. Every man for himself, I guess! The new signholder was confused and asked if this meant we wanted her to stand with us. "We don't want you to, but that guy does," I said, pointing to The Poet. She refused, and I admired her ability to say no (people can do that?), and The Poet replaced her with a woman who seemed pretty honored to be a part of the sign holding. In other words, she was as crazy as The Poet.

For the next hour or so, I tried to figure out how to get out of having to hold the sign. At one point, I even contemplated joining some other protesters in civil disobedience by laying in the road... I wouldn't have to hold a sign if I'm getting arrested! Finally, the young girl on the end with dyed blue hair (as opposed to naturally blue hair, I suppose) also made her escape. She just kind of bolted into the crowd, and I don't blame her. When The Poet realized the defaction, he freaked out, and the rest of us agreed to help him locate the missing sign, which we found tossed on the ground not too far away.

Geniusly, one of the fellow sign holders suggested to The Poet that he collect all of his signs so that "nothing would happen to them," and he agreed that that was a good idea. At the end, he gave each of us what one of my comrades called "a sweaty hug and kiss" to show his appreciation for our assistance. From the way we each flinched, I think a simple "thank you" would have been preferable. But at last we were free. In that moment, it felt as significant as toppling the 1%.

Prophylactics

2011-11-16T19:43:00.000-08:00

"More like con-dumb!"
- Unsafe sex enthusiast

Los Angeles Homicides

2011-11-15T18:52:00.000-08:00

Sasha is planning on moving out to LA in a matter of months, but is hesitant because of all the murders that happen here. So what do I do to help? I send her a link to the LA Time's Homicide Blog. Sure, it only seemed to scare her even more, but if she had just listened to my suggestion of finding a spot on the interactive map where people don't get killed, I think it might have given her some peace of mind. The LA Tourism Board should hire me for awesome ideas like this!

How could you not find the statistical breakdown helpful? There's a lot of good advice to be inferred! Be alert for guns, but don't fret too much about strangers with large hands: only 31 people have been strangled in the past four years. Stay at home on Sundays as that seems to be murder day in LA, but feel free to go out partying on Wednesday: hump day is the day you're most likely to stay alive. To avoid being gunned down, try to appear Asian rather than Latino. And finally, get older as fast you can. Sure you might get closer to death as you age, but you're less likely to be murdered, and a natural death seems way preferable to one by way of stabbing.

If you're feeling especially morbid, you can click on the photos of the victims, see their murder stories in detail, and then even peek at the comments that their friends and family leave for them. Okay, doing that might not help you feel more secure, but for real I have used this site to inform my own life decisions. I walk alone at night quite often and my friends will say, "Stop that! That's not a safe area!" and then I'll show them the site and be like, "Look, only one dude has been shot there in the past couple of years, it's probably fine."

Also, big ups to my friend Clare who used to maintain this site. I feel really sorry for present day homicide victims who will never have the honor of having Clare chart their demise for them.

Art for Fart's Sake

2011-11-13T21:43:00.000-08:00

Hey artists, you better step up your game, because I just spotted the world's greatest public art installation: a transgendered ballerina clown.

You can find this gem, which features a motorized kicking leg, on the CVS building in Venice. But beware - it's terrifying. Allison actually shielded her face and asked that we move away from it as soon as possible.

Naturally, this reaction got me thinking: why did Venice even want this crazy thing amidst a row of otherwise chic stores on Main Street? Somehow I doubt CVS commissioned it. In search of an explanation, I located the artist's statement:

The Venice Boardwalk is full of all kinds of people in all sorts of outfits and the atmosphere is very festive with many live street performances taking place, especially on weekends. This sculpture is an accommodation or resolution of opposites in one. Not only does this image bring the male and female together into one figure, but also, two opposite types of performers are represented: the formal classical ballet dancer and the traditional street performer. Of course, this public sculpture might push the envelope in ‘taste’, but if you have ever walked the Venice Boardwalk on a Sunday afternoon, you might understand why this figure is right at home.

I love how, in addition to bullshitting, he managed to be condescending, too. Why not just say, "Yo freaks, I made this freaky art because it's what you freaky freaks deserve."?

Dear God That's Wrong

2011-11-12T19:28:00.000-08:00

WHAT? WHAT??

This has got to be a mistake of some sort, right?

Because Sister Act 2 introduced us to Jennifer Love Hewitt.
Because Sister Act 2 features Maggie Smith and Kathy Najimy in nun outfits.
Because Sister Act 2 got me re-involved with the church choir.
Because Sister Act 2 started my lifelong obsession with Lauryn Hill.

I think it's fair to say that my generation is better for having watched Sister Act 2 dozen of times. Who are these critics who didn't have their hearts melted with the danceable, urban mix of "Joyful Joyful"? Looks like we've got a lot heathens who aren't down with G.O.D.

Is it because of Whoopi's lack of eyebrows? 'Cause I'm pretty sure that's racist.

One thing's for sure, however: WE ARE THE 7%!

I'm Calling Your Eleven-Lovin' Bullshit Out

2011-11-11T16:44:00.000-08:00

There's nothing like 11/11/11 to bring out all of the fair weather eleven fans. "OMG! Three elevens in a row! Isn't that amazing?"

Yeah, and where were you when there was just one eleven? You don't find just one eleven to be one-derful on its own?

I'm about to sound like that guy who's been listening to that indie band a full two years before you even a heard a song of theirs on the radio, but I am WAY more into elevens than you ever will be. Heck, I threw a party on 11/11 years ago; I didn't need to wait until 2011 to feel it deserved celebration.

Eleven has always been my favorite number, you see, and not just because it rhymes with my name. It's odd, it's prime, it's a palindrome, it has simple multiplication tables, and on a scale from one to ten, it's even better.

I care about elevens too much to see people tweet about them today as if they've always been fans. Some of these temporary eleven converts wouldn't know elevens unless they fell asleep on the 1 key. I'd bet that the most many of these idiots are only exposed to elevens is when they accidentally let go of the shift key while excitedly typing about whatever the latest trend of the day is. ("ROFL!! IT'S TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY!!!!!!!!11")

So do me a favor: if you're not going to give a shit about the awesomeness of elevens tomorrow... if it'll be another full century before you consider honoring this number again, then you can just hop off this bandwagon right now, thankyouverymuch. Sure, eleven does challenge the notion that "one is the loneliest number" by pairing two of them together, but that doesn't mean you need to test it by putting it through potential heartbreak. I promise to love eleven enough for all of us, long after some other digit has struck your collective fancy.

Let's Expose the Duggars

2011-11-08T23:53:00.000-08:00

Knowing how much it would piss me off, a few of my friends and family tried to be the first to break the news to me that the Duggars are having another child. Previously I've delivered prolonged rants (here and here) about how awful those parents are, and my hatred is throbbing again at this latest development.

Make no mistake, it is not "God's will" that causes them to pop out babies on the regular, it's that Mr. Duggar is having a lot of sex with his wife. How they find the time with 19 kids to raise is another question. If you'll recall, Mrs. Duggar and her premature infant nearly died during her last pregnancy; if God is trying to give this couple any sort of sign, maybe it was this as a warning of "enough is a fucking nough." Are the kids going to be just as into the whole "God's will" tripe if they actually lose their mom this time? It would be awful for me to say that I hope it happens, so I won't say it. I love the Duggars's claim that the doctors say she's healthy enough for this pregnancy. Did these doctors graduate from the Duggars's Institute of Ineffective Homeschooling? Because her last two pregnancies have had significant complications, definitely putting her at a high risk for more problems this time around.

Allow me to toss out a theory here: fertility drugs. Given that this family is so starved for attention yet only receives media coverage when they have a pregnancy announcement, might an over-the-hill woman feel pressured to force something to happen in her exhausted reproductive system with the help of medical advancements? Someone out there must have proof that she's receiving fertility treatments. A scandal like that would blow the roof off their whole, "Aw shucks, it's just God's work" excuse. They need to stop absolving themselves of all responsibility and be exposed for playing a sick game that involves kids' lives.

For that reason, I am willing to give a reward to anyone who can procure proof of any Duggar fertility-enhancing shenanigans. That's right, I will pay TWENTIES of dollars (that's multiple twenties!) for this information. Plus it's God's will for you to do so.

What Grown-Ass Women Do

2011-11-07T19:35:00.000-08:00

My college's snack shop stocked a small selection of movies available for loan. One momentous day, someone introduced a couple of porn DVDs to the collection, which sent my dorm-mates in a tizzy. Everyone wanted to see the porn, but no one wanted to actually check it out. Watching a bunch of college students get nervous at the thought of renting porn, our then acquaintance Joan told us we were all ridiculous and left. Five minutes later, she returned with one of the porn films. "You weren't too embarrassed to do that?" we asked. "I'm a grown-ass woman, and I can get porn if I want," Joan said.

We put the DVD on in my room and about a dozen people awkwardly watched and tried to cut the weirdness with humorous observations. Joan tried to enjoy it at surface level despite our interruptions, but ultimately dismissed it entirely. "It's not hot! It's porn, it should turn me on. This isn't hot! I'm taking it back!" She promptly returned the movie and told the snack shop employee what she didn't like about it, as if the guy were the director or something. Needless to say, Joan soon went from an acquaintance to a friend.

A year later, we went to a record expo together where various vendors were selling music and movies. After separating from me briefly, Joan returned with an armful of porn flicks. "Where'd you get all that?" I asked. "That guy sold it all to me for just $10," Joan said. Feeling uncomfortable looking at what "interested" her, I again turned to humor to cover up my embarrassment. "That's a lot of fuck for your buck!" I exclaimed. 100% earnestly, Joan then gave me a disgusted look and said, "You have a crass mouth." Granted, she had an image of a woman gnawing on a penis in her hand, but it was my mouth that was crass. We all have lines we don't like having crossed, and I love how unpredictable Joan's lines are.

Bail Out

2011-11-06T21:52:00.000-08:00

I took my money out of Bank of America yesterday in solidarity with Bank Transfer Day and the larger Occupy movement. While the BoA tellers gave it a good effort to convince me to stay, even offering me higher interest rates, I decided that a bank that large and irresponsible needed another bailout... mainly me, bailing on it.

I'm excited to be part of a credit union now. There's a lot of reason why I made the switch, but if I could sum up why I feel it's a good choice in just one point, it's this one: credit unions are not-for-profit. In a literal sense, they aren't trying to nickel and dime your nickels and dimes. Because big banks have shareholders, they have to continually increase their profits, which means finding ways to make money off every one of your transactions. On the other hand, credit unions make enough money to operate, earning the majority of its cash from interest on loans.

Afterward, I headed downtown to the Occupy rally where there was a teach-in. Unfortunately, I was discouraged by a bunch of arguments going on amongst the participants. I understand that people come to the movement with differing opinions and that debate is healthy, but screaming at/heckling others who slightly disagree with you on some minor topic is not productive. Why not work together on the 95% of things you agree on rather than focusing on the other 5%? We're all here for the common goal of minimizing economic injustice.

As easy as it is to be cynical about everything, I also can't allow myself to write off a movement this important. As the consolidation of wealth and power increases over time, it's only going to be harder to break up, so giving up now might as well mean giving up forever. How to do it, though, is another issue. I'm still trying to figure out exactly where *I* fit into Occupy Wall Street. Hopefully we'll all figure out at least that much soon.

Child Melester

2011-11-03T23:10:00.000-07:00

Yo, it's no secret that I've been fiending to go Vegas lately. Recently some of my friends went with vouchers for a free room, free drinks... Did I mention they went without me? They're dicks, I tell you. But at least I get to live out their experience vicariously through their stories.

1. This sign was posted in the casino. Probably the first fortunate thing to happen in a guy named Melester's life. Do you think it was a typo like this Hollywood flyer?

2. At 4:30am in the hotel room, one friend called the front desk to complain of being cold and demanded "two of your thickest blankets." When an employee showed up to the room with blankets, she peeked at the thermostat and asked, "You do realize that the air conditioning is set to 60?" "Yeah!" my friend said angrily and shut the door.

3. At a casino bar, one friend told another, "I keep accidentally making eye contact with this really eery guy, I hope he doesn't think I'm flirting with him." The second friend turned around expecting to see a creepy guy but instead saw a guy in a suit with the largest ears she had ever seen. The first friend didn't mean eery, she meant ear-y. No word on whether he was also a melester.

Hopefully I'll soon have Vegas tales of my own. I can't wait to rape, drink, and gamble.But mostly rape.

My Halloween Costume

2011-11-01T15:53:00.000-07:00

When I was little, my favorite animal was a giraffe. I even dressed as one for Halloween one year. While searching a closet at my childhood home recently, I actually found the old costume I made (with ample help from my mom, I'd bet) in fourth grade. In the spirit of reusing (all 3 Rs are important, guys), I decided to be that same giraffe. Sure, the 18-year-old costume was in disrepair, but with some bent coat hangers and a whole lotta duct tape, I whipped it back into reasonable shape.

Let me tell you, this classic costume was a hit, you guys. The neck made it sort of hard to dance in sometimes, but it held up surprisingly well in my romp around West Hollywood last night. Dozens of strangers stopped me to take pictures with them, most of whom were attractive young women. Word to the wise, dudes: giraffes are chick magnets. I personally thought that my Rufio costume last year was more impressive, but it's the giraffe that got all the attention.

While all of the wear and tear has definitely put the giraffe costume back on the endangered list and back into retirement, I'm happy that he got one last go. He even made a friend when I found a giraffe pinata at a warehouse party. When I sat on the pinata to pose for a photo, it broke, which made me feel like a loser. In retrospect, however, breaking a pinata usually means you've won, so perhaps I'm still a winner after all.

The Divorce Everyone Saw Coming

2011-10-31T17:41:00.000-07:00

Whoa now! SPOILER ALERT! I hadn't had a chance to watch the Kim Kardashian four-hour wedding special yet, and now the ending has been ruined for me. Geez, media, why not have some consideration for the TV-watching public?

On second thought, why not have some consideration for decency? I actually literally shed a tear while seeing all of the Kardashian divorce coverage today - not because I'm emotionally invested but because it wrecks me to see that this is what America cares about. I know it's not an original gripe to say, "How is this news?", but this entertainment story is especially infuriating because everyone knew this wedding was a sham from the start. And now we have to go through the motions of the divorce, too? There are legitimate newsworthy stories going on in the world right now, but instead everyone (including ME apparently) is "keeping up" more readily with a professional fame whore.

We are suckers. Don't watch her show, don't buy her magazines, don't perpetuate her fame. I say this as a reality television addict, too. Watching attention whores is amusing - so long as they're failing. The appeal of reality television is that people debase themselves just to get looked at. They want to be famous, but the real "fifteen minutes" rule is that fifteen minutes after the show goes off the air, they are forgotten. Sure, there are some exceptions, but we can't let one as big as Kim perverse this otherwise enjoyable system.

She marries, she win$. She divorces, she win$. She sneezes, she win$$$. Fuck her and her scripted life that so many people buy into it. She's not royalty, fuck, she's not even interesting. Let Kim embarrass herself publicly all she wants, but PLEASE don't let her profit from it. We should all be less concerned about her divorce and more concerned with the fact that we've created a monster.

Halloween Playlist

2011-10-29T19:15:00.001-07:00

Is Halloween over yet? I can't believe I still have three more nights of costumes and staying up to ungodly hours. Last night was great though. Leave it to Halloween to get me dancing harder than I have in ages. I helped create the playlist for a party last night and - not to toot my own horn - we were dancing until our legs gave in. I avoided the cliches (you want "Thriller", "Ghostbusters", "The Monster Mash"? - go to every other party) and found songs that embodied the Halloween spirit either in sound, lyrics, or title. You're gonna need this 40-song playlist to do Halloween properly:

Zombie - Cranberries
Run to Your Grave - Mae Shi
Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode
Danger (High Voltage) - Electric Six
Psycho Killer - Talking Heads
Heads Will Roll - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Toxic - Britney Spears
Ready or Not - Fugees
Du Hast - Rammstein
Walking with a Ghost - Tegan & Sara
Disturbia - Rihanna
We Throw Parties, You Throw Knives - Los Campesinos
Nightcall - Kavinsky
Everybody - Backstreet Boys
Spooky - Dusty Springfield
Beautiful People - Marilyn Manson
Werewolf Bar Mitzvah - Tracy Morgan
Bad Romance - Lady Gaga
Possum Kingdom - Toadies
Bad Moon Rising - Creedence Clearwater Revival
Crossroads - Bone Thugs N Harmony
Spiderwebs - No Doubt
Creep - TLC
Enter Sandman - Metallica
Obsession - Animotion
S&M - Rihanna
Southside - Moby & Gwen Stefani
Smooth Criminal - Alien Ant Farm
Your Woman - White Town
She Wolf - Shakira
Machinehead - Bush
Dance the Way I Feel - Ou Est Le Swimming Pool
My Boo - Ghost Town DJs
Animal I Have Become - Three Days Grace
Walking on Broken Glass - Annie Lennox
The Girl and the Robot - Royksopp & Robyn
Infected - Bad Religion
In a Dream - Rockell
Tearin' Up My Heart - N Sync
Sunday Bloody Sunday - U2
Twisted - Keith Sweat

Download it here: Halloween Dance Time

The Surprise Pallbearer Returns

2011-10-28T15:34:00.000-07:00

My grandmother passed away last week. She was a lovely woman (and former beauty pageant queen) who will be missed dearly by my family.

The funeral was rough on me, mainly because it was difficult watching my mom cry. How do you deal with that sight, other than crying yourself? I think the minister put it best when he said that we grieve at funerals because we must confront our own mortality. That's a heavy thing to deal with, and why I don't make it a habit of attending acquaintances' funerals... it's just too much.

But there is an old man named Herb in New York state who seems to thrive on it. I first "met" him five years ago at my other grandmother's funeral. He had been acquainted with her husband decades earlier and showed up at the funeral, which at first seemed nice, but then got weird when he appointed himself a pallbearer at the last minute, even though none of us knew who he was. So the pallbearers were six young grandkids plus this extra old guy who I'm sure my grandmother wouldn't even remember even if she hadn't had Alzheimer's.

Anyway, I still chuckle about the surprise pallbearer sometimes, but I never thought I'd see Herb again. But then he showed up, five years later, at my other grandmother's funeral. He arrived an hour before the service started, at least half an hour before anyone other than immediate family arrived. My grandfather sort of remembered the guy as a fellow community member from back in the day, but seemed confused as to why he would be there.

So it seems like Herb is a funeral crasher. Maybe this old guy just really likes to face mortality head on. Unfortunately for him, Herb wasn't able to insert himself as a pallbearer this time, but I bet he might have tried had my family not given him the cold shoulder. I joked years ago that I wanted to make pallbearing a hobby, but now that I've done it twice, I feel like I'd be glad not to have to do it again for a good long while. I'm sure Herb would be happy to assist, though. If you should find yourself short a pallbearer - or just want a bonus one - give Herb a shot. I don't actually know the guy, so I can't help you get in touch with him, but there's a pretty good chance he might just be at the funeral already anyway.

Part of Your World

2011-10-25T15:35:00.000-07:00

Ugh ugh ugh. A half hour stay on the plane layover in Las Vegas is cruel beyond words. I really relate to Ariel right now.

Funny Bunny

2011-10-24T15:40:00.000-07:00

This is me on my first Halloween at just four months of age. What a happy bunny I am. Or not. It seems pretty cruel to put babies who can't even sit up straight in ridiculous costumes for your own amusement.*

*Anne Geddes being the sole exception. That woman is a fucking genius.

Love Is in the Air

2011-10-22T19:21:00.000-07:00

"You realize he's gay, right?"
- 13-year-old girl next to me on a plane to her mother who was shamelessly flirting with the flight attendant. He did give mom an extra bag of Wheat Thins, so her effort wasn't entirely futile.

Begley's Best

2011-10-19T16:49:00.000-07:00

I found this bottle with some other cleaning supplies under the sink. I'm not convinced that this isn't just a prop from an old Saturday Night Live parody. Who knew there was a market for environmentally-friendly cleanser with Ed Begley Jr.'s face on it?

Also, why is it dressed in ribbons as if it's the belle of the household cleaner supply ball?

It actually works pretty effectively, so good on you, Mr. Begley.

Ellen Feiss

2011-10-17T20:39:00.001-07:00

You ever decide to retroactively have a crush on a drugged teenager from a decade ago?

Forget the IPod, student Ellen Feiss is the best thing that Apple ever produced.

I love her impression of a PC ("BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP"), I love her near Scooby Doo grunt of confusion, ("Enh?"), and I love her confidence in her own writing abilities. It's a "bummer" she's not still part of our day-to-day lives. I'd be willing to switch a lot of things for her.

I did a little ~~stalking~~ researching (it's okay, she's not 14 anymore, folks), and found this interview. Here are six important Ellen Feiss facts:

1. Her wardrobe is what she wore to school that day.
2. Her friend's dad directed the commercial. She came by the set to watch, not be filmed, but got coaxed in front of the camera to share her story.
3. It's a true story. Her essay was a 15-pager about Chinatowns throughout America for history class.
4. Though she's been high before, she wasn't on marijuana during filming. She did take Benadryl, though.
5. She likes Nelly Furtado and Sleater Kinney.
6. She has "no comment" on whether she's single.

I think I might need to be Ellen Feiss for Halloween this year.

Now This Is the Story All About How

2011-10-16T18:21:00.000-07:00

I spent last weekend in Chinatown dressed like the Fresh Prince.

Multiple people asked me to do the Carlton dance. And while it was kind of annoying because I was clearly Will, not Carlton, I can much more easily snap around dorkily than legitimately get jiggy wit it, so I obliged. You don't have to worry about having shame when wearing a mask.

Occupy Wall Street Is the Movement I've Been Hoping for

2011-10-13T16:53:00.000-07:00

I’ve long thought the Tea Party is genius. I’m not saying that of their ideas, but to form a splinter group that pushes an agenda their political party was ignoring and achieve actual sway is a remarkable feat. I was envious that we didn’t have a similar group of liberal youth pushing for our own reform. My friends and I joked that such a group could be called the “Pizza Party”, because who doesn’t like a pizza party? Now Occupy Wall Street stands for the same ideals that I hoped the Pizza Party would, minus the pepperoni.

I didn’t immediately jump on the Occupy bandwagon. The first time I went down to Occupy LA, I wasn’t sure what to make of it, buying into the common critique of “what do they stand for?” and “what are the demands?” Then I read this powerful speech by the wise Naomi Klein (which I urge you to read), which opened my eyes to the idea that we can’t simplify an agenda to a short list when really the goal is to change the underlying values of our society. Democracy somehow went from “for the people, by the people” to “for the corporations, by the corporations”.

I’ve grown up believing in capitalism, but the powers that be have lost me in recent years. Their lying, cheating, hoarding, and demanding more when they already have the most have all disenchanted me to the system. If only corporations played fairly or even decently, they’d still have a believer in me. If only they made even a half-assed attempt to make it look like they weren’t trying to take everything at the expense of others, many of us would still be content to play along. But rather than maintaining a structure where they could have an majority, the 1% continually pushes to literally have it all, and we have no choice but to push back.

As corporations merge and conglomerate, stronger consolidations of power form that we lack the control to vote out. Monopolies do not benefit society at large. We’ve all played the board game, and while some games taking longer than others, there’s always only one result in the end – one person who has everything, while everyone else is bankrupt.

That’s not what I want. I want campaign finance reform, I want money out of politics, and I want people in charge of their own democracy – not corporations that have so generously been given the status of a person in the eyes of the law. I want a country where our failing educational system is finally a priority. The 1% only stands to benefit from others’ ignorance, so we can’t count on them to fix it for us.

A lot of people dismiss the Occupy movement because “that’s just the world we live in.” But the thing is, the people make the world we live in. And if we have a system that doesn’t benefit most of us, we need to reclaim this power to make it right. Moreover, we have to turn the tides sooner than later; the more power we concede, the harder it will be to gain back.

I’m not saying it will be easy, I’m not saying we have all of the answers, but no matter what the critics say, it’s not a waste of time. When you’re protesting for what’s fair, decent, and right… when you’re protesting to make the world a better place… what better use of your time is there? It’s time to #Occupy.

The Power Cord

2011-10-12T19:00:00.000-07:00

Once again my Macbook power cord has crapped out after only about a year of use. Then again, I guess it's no surprise that a Steve Jobs product would expire prematurely. Oh shut up, the only thing that's "too soon" is how quickly my power cord went.

Before buying a new one, I tried to research how to fix the cord myself. This process involved cutting some of it apart and trying to rejoin some of the inner wires. Because I had no clue what I was doing, I was unsuccessful, but I figured there was no harm in breaking an already broken item.

The next morning, I went straight to the Apple store because I use my computer for my livelihood. Thinking ahead, I brought the power cord I decapitated with me in my pocket in case I needed to see which size to purchase. This move was unnecessary, however, because the "Genius" told me exactly what I needed to buy.

When purchasing the cord ($80 - you don't suppose they make them that fragile on purpose, do you?), I accidentally knocked the power cord head out my pocket while grabbing my wallet. It hit the floor and the Genius literally gasped at the sight. I nervously laughed, and he just said, "My God."

I forgot about how much Apple people love their products. While I'd guess he was accustomed to dealing with broken power cords, I doubt he usually sees them dismembered, with frayed wires spilling from it's neck. I actually felt judged as we finished the transaction for the new cord, as if he thought I was some murderer who couldn't be trusted to be responsible with a new one.

If he was that distraught over the cord, I would have to imagine he took a bereavement day when he heard the news about Steve Jobs.

Happy Columbus Day

2011-10-10T18:59:00.000-07:00

I love how everyone's getting extra feisty about Christopher Columbus this year. He got lost on the way to where he was actually trying to go. He "discovered" land that was already inhabited. He murdered and swindled the new people he encountered. They all seem like good reasons not to honor a man with a holiday.

But then, some of the people who despise Columbus are also pissed that they didn't get today off. Good-for-nothing lazy liberals! Am I right?

I decided to honor Columbus and take the day off because I could. In fact, I gave all of my coworkers the day off, too. When I saw Columbus Day coming up a few weeks ago, I wrote "DAY OFF" all over the calendars and nobody questioned it. To be clear, I don't have this sort of authority, but I do write up the production schedule, and even though we didn't take it off last year, I took some liberties and added it as a company holiday myself. Last week my boss was like, "Oh, we have Monday off?" which should have been her call, but she just accepted it as fact and took the day off, too. Given what an incompetent dick Columbus was, I think he'd be proud of my accomplishments.

Who Are the People in Your Neighborhood?

2011-10-09T22:25:00.000-07:00

This old man rides by my house every day.

The first few times I saw him go by I wondered where he was going on a little girl's bike, but then I noticed he does laps around the block, so it's likely an exercise thing.

Biking in sandals is funny, but it's his helmet that really kills me - and maybe him one day, too. Does he really think a fake plastic Yankees helmet will protect him if he gets in an accident? Perhaps that's why he always rides on the sidewalk, even though there are rarely any vehicles traveling on the street.

I have so many questions for this man, but in the meantime I'll settle for just sneaking peeks at this absurd scene from my window.

Human Lactation

2011-10-07T19:30:00.000-07:00

Yo, check out this giant framed poster of the cover of The Journal of Human Lactation.

My friend works in academic publishing, and I guess in that industry, your clients reward you with large, awkward tokens of gratitude. First her coworkers debated whether they were obligated to hang it in their office, and once the conclusion was no, they had to decide what to do with it instead.

To make a long story short: Happy Birthday, Kevin!

It's proudly displayed in my home now, obviously.

My Shameful Rise to Grammar Superiority

2011-10-05T22:47:00.000-07:00

It's no secret that I'm a nerdy grammar fan. I not only have grammar conversations for fun, but I also headed a grammar parade float for three years. The source of my grammar obsession is actually a shameful story that most people would never admit to; fortunately for you, I'm willing to blog my most shameful stories.

In third grade, there was a kid with Down syndrome named "Bruce" in my class. Well sort of, most of Bruce's day was spent in special education classes, but he made appearances in the main class occasionally. At one point he popped in while the rest of my class was receiving a grammar lesson.

"Oh, Bruce can do that!" Bruce's aide told my teacher while the lesson was in progress. I didn't believe it, of course. I was struggling to understand the whole subject/predicate thing myself, so how would Bruce ever understand that? Besides, there's no way his special class would be ahead in the text book of where my "normal" class was.

Bruce went to the board and answered all of the questions correctly, several of which I had gotten wrong on my own sheet. As Bruce beamed with pride, the girls in the class all clapped for him in a condescending manner. My response, although private, was even more condescending. How could a "retarded" kid be smarter than me at something? I couldn't stand it when any of my classmates was better than me at anything, so I definitely was upset when the kid in special ed was superior at grammar.

That night, we didn't even have homework, but I still took my grammar book home with me to start learning ahead of the assignments. I'd be damned if I would be made to feel that dumb again!

And I think that's how my love of grammar began... while trying to rectify a feeling of inferiority. Perhaps it's no coincidence that grammar lovers often use their knowledge to make others feel inferior.

Yeah, I'm ashamed of my third grade reaction in retrospect, but at the same time, that moment could be largely responsible for the person I became: a high school English teacher and copyeditor. Looks like someone learned how to excel at grammar after all! I wonder if Bruce can say the same. (That's awful, I know. I only said it because it's awful, I swear. I actually hope he's doing really, really well. And I mean that even more sincerely than Steven's sister.)

San Dimas: Home of the Bar Brawl

2011-10-04T18:31:00.000-07:00

I moved to Los Angeles proper a couple of years ago to add some excitement to my life, but I still believe that the best adventures take place on the outskirts of Los Angeles county. A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of visiting Sam Dimas (home of Bill & Ted!) to see my friends' band play at a bowling alley bar, and the experience was delightfully trashy. The place was full of twenty-year-old bros and hos and a few eccentrics. I'm guilty of not paying too much attention to the band because the people-watching was so ripe. Let's start with the eccentrics:

* Boat Guy: an middle-aged, short gentleman with a ridiculous picture of his boat embroidered on the back. Not sure how he found his way into this bar, but he had a lady friend (twice his size in each direction) who must have had a thing for boats considering that she kept putting her tongue in his ear. Things got so amorous that they fled for the parking lot before even finishing their drinks.

* Golf Hat Guy: a dude who was doughier and a bit more preppy than most of the buff bros in the place, but he still managed to bag one of the bleach blond girls. (Every girl in the bar had the same fake color hair.) As he danced with his new friend, he couldn't wipe the "how-did-I-get-so-lucky" grin off his face and would clench his fist in victory when she'd rub her butt against him. Occasionally, she'd pull her top down to show him (and a hundred other people, whether she realized that or not) her boobs and he'd wriggle with excitement while pointing at his Titleist hat. "It's the hat, it's the hat!" he'd brag to everyone.

* Cowboys: a group of dudes with cowboy hats, buckles, and boots, looking just short people in bad costumes. I wasn't close enough to hear any of their conversations, but REAL cowboys, guys!

* Over-Sexual Grandma: Probably the oldest person in the bar, she came in making out with a man, then proceeded to flirt with every other younger guy in the room. After freak dancing with a few gentleman, she asked if I'd like to take her for a spin, but I declined, pointing out that her man-friend, who had been glaring at her, seemed a little jealous. "He let's me do what I want, he knows I'm young at heart!" she insisted. Except that she ended up dancing with one too many dudes, because they were soon in a fight and all of her apologizing and cheek kissing wasn't enough to placate him and she left in tears.

But again, the real excitement was just the sea of bros. They were mere feet from us, so I had to routinely cover my face so they wouldn't catch me reacting to every dumb thing they said and did. It was like watching a National Geographic special on assholes, except that I could reach out and touch them... or they could touch us, as it wound up transpiring.

Michael called it well before it happened. A chick (blond, obviously) had come in with her boyfriend, but then was spending a lot of time talking to another dude. The boyfriend start fuming and rather than expressing his displeasure with words, he went right in with a fist. One punch spurred dozens more, as there were at least 20 bros that wound up getting involved in the fight. A sad excuse for a security guard tried to come break up the fight, but against that many buff dudes, he just ended up getting attacked, too. Organically, the brawling mob started moving across the bar. Someone would try to flee and another guy would chase and soon they'd all be moving as some uncontrollable pack. Unfortunately, the scene went from funny to dangerous when the fight came crashing into our table. Allison had dudes land on her, another guy got his head slammed against the table, and we all had to get out of our seats and back away to avoid being injured.

Finally the fight stopped, thanks in no part to the ineffective security guard. The management tried to kick them all out, but they wanted to stay and have "one more shot" before leaving. They found it incomprehensible that the bartenders refused to serve them, got livid, and finally stormed out not because the police had arrived, but because they couldn't get a drink. I couldn't get served either because for some reason I had been lumped in with the bros until some fellow patron was like, "Come on, does he look like one of them? Give him his drink!" and finally I got my $7 pitcher.

The funniest line of the night came from my friends in the band: "Looks like we can't play Sheryl Crow anymore." In the past, they've had to stop performing Rage Against the Machine at certain bars because it riles the crowd up too much, but in this instance they were playing a Sheryl Crow cover when the violence erupted. Who knew she had the power to provoke a twenty-person brawl?

For obvious reasons, this is now my favorite bar. I don't care that it's a half hour drive, if anyone wants to make the trip to San Dimas, I'm game.

How Are You?

2011-10-03T17:10:00.001-07:00

Let's be honest: the majority of the time we ask someone how they're doing, we don't care. It's a pleasantry. It's a go-to question after you exchange "hello"s that buys you time before having to think of something more substantial to add to the conversation. In the best brief conversations, you might not even have to go further than the obligatory back and forth "how are you?"s.

Need more proof that these questions are useless filler? We only want certain answers to this question: "Good" "I'm doing well" "Things are great" "Yeah, it's been pretty good" and other such variants are all acceptable answers. While a good friend can shoot it to you straight about what's going on, acquaintances must respond positively to your inquiry. When you're only checking in someone every so often, you don't want to hear about his crap.

For this reason, I am constantly taken aback when a recent acquaintance of mine doesn't play by the rules. Every time I ask him how he's doing after greeting him, he'll make a pained expression and give a purposely unconvincing "I'm okay". That of course prompts me to follow up to make sure things aren't awful, to which he shakes his head and says, "Just okay, that's it, things are just okay." He also doesn't even do the obligatory ask-back. That would normally be rude, but in this circumstance, I wouldn't want to say how I'm feeling, given that he's managed to depress me in the meantime.

And for real, slight variations on this have happened several times in the past few months. Not once has he been good or even pretty good, always just a clearly forced "okay." As I don't know him well enough to find out what's actually going on his life, I've made it a point to just stop asking him so I don't have to go through this awkward ritual. Except that the "how are you?" pleasantry is so ingrained in my life that I start asking it without even thinking and then catch myself only after it's too late.

Recently, I watched another friend ask this acquaintance how he was doing, and the same sad scene played out. After the acquaintance left, she said, "Well that was weird!" Then a third person interjected, "He is the only person I never ask how he's doing because he's always too sad and honest about it." "I thought I was the only one!" I replied.

So remember, when someone you don't know that well asks you how you're doing, you're "good." That is the response. I don't care if your dog ran away. I don't care if you're $40,000 in debt. I don't care if you only have five more minutes to live. If that's the case, just answer the pleasantry and help end the conversation more quickly and painlessly, then you can go on trying to make the most of whatever time you have left.

This Is What Democracy Looks Like

2011-10-02T20:12:00.000-07:00

THIS IS WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE!

THIS IS WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE!

THIS IS WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE!

THIS IS WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE!

I'm concerned that my penchant for literalism is interfering with my ability to protest effectively.

Crushing

2011-09-30T18:54:00.000-07:00

Let me be clear about what you’re looking at here: I woke up in the morning with TWO bugs smooshed to my leg. A spider and whatever kind of creature that green thing is. They were not only dead, but I had somehow managed to crush them so thoroughly that they stuck to me.

Part of me feels super gross, but part of me wants to brag: that’s the most action I’ve had in bed in a while. I’m not a player, I just crush a lot.

10 Thoughts I've Had While Listening to Mainstream Radio Recently

2011-09-28T16:12:00.001-07:00

1. I appreciates any advice for when I hit the club, but grabbing someone sexy and telling 'em, "Hey, give me everything tonight" strikes me as being a little bit forward.

2. If I ever meet the person who broke Adele's heart, I will fuck him up.

3. What if that's not autotune and that's just Britney's natural singing voice at this point? Has anyone checked?

4. This "new" Red Hot Chili Peppers song could be one they released fifteen years ago and know one would notice.

5. This song could only get more ridiculous if it were featured on the Drive soundtrack.

6. Thank goodness I'm rarely a betting man, because if a couple of years ago someone had me wager on whether the band that sings "Shots! Shots! Shots!" would have another song, let alone a number one hit, I'd easily be down a million dollars.

7. I am so happy that Avril Lavigne is back on the radio! (This is not sarcastic, I love Avril.)

8. It may be close-minded, but I really doubt Lil' Wayne has anything to teach me about "how to love."

9. Hey, I liked that Foster the People song, too - last year. Could someone please let the radio stations know that the band has other good songs?

10. Nine: the number of syllables Adam Levine sings the word "moves" as having. Also the number of fucks Mick Jagger doesn't give. Bet he was more excited when Ke$ha name-checked him.

Devastating

2011-09-27T18:34:00.000-07:00

"You have devastatingly blue eyes," Kelly told me recently, while greeting me at a cookout. (I think it was a compliment?) "How have I never noticed this before?"

After some discussion, we realized that even though we've hung out dozens of times, this was the first occasion that we were together in the daylight, and one of the only times that did not occur in a dimly lit bar. What does this say about my social life? That I can form good friendships with people revolving almost entirely around booze and dark rooms, to the extent that they don't even recognize me in the daylight?

This is a shame! Granted, I'm an oblivious person, so even if my friendships were to take place exclusively in the daylight, I wouldn't be able to tell what color my friends eyes are. For example, I have no idea what Kelly's eye color is; it never even occurred to me check even after we had a whole conversation about eye color. Nonetheless, the fact that some of my friends might not know what my eye color is despite the fact that they're DEVASTATINGLY blue is practically a tragedy. I have to reassess my social life.

BBW

2011-09-25T22:03:00.000-07:00

"I've never felt so confident in a bathing suit." - Allison on being in Las Vegas during a BBW convention

Take a Normal Photo

2011-09-24T22:08:00.000-07:00

I've been at a birthday party all day and this isn't even the funniest part! (but close)

Drive: It's Camp

2011-09-22T18:15:00.000-07:00

Ohmguh, go see Drive. I'm not saying it's amazing, but it is thoroughly enjoyable. I have a lot of friends who love this film, as well as a handful who hated it, and I'm going to alienate all of them here by coming out and saying that Drive's appeal lies in the fact that it's campy as hell.

I didn't know much about the movie before seeing it Tuesday. I had heard it described as "action", "artsy", and "horror" by three different sources, and surprisingly all three were correct. Drive wants to be every genre possible simultaneously, with the result being something bizarrely entertaining.

The film is getting so many good reviews that it'll probably take at least another decade for people to figure out what the real deal is, but once they do, Drive is destined for midnight showings and ironic audience members.

I can see them wearing shiny scorpion jackets.
I can see them chanting "Drive! Drive! Drive!" every time Ryan Gosling is silently driving his car.
I can see them cracking up at the handful of "jokes" that are so unfunny they might actually become funny.
I can see them whistling at each prolonged headshot of Gosling, Christina Hendricks, and Carey Mulligan meant to remind us how beautiful they are.
I can see them cheering each time over-the-top bouts of violence abruptly change the tone of an otherwise slow-paced indie film.
And most of all, I can see them singing along to the cheesiest soundtrack that ever existed, save for maybe Xanadu.

I don't know that you can take the music seriously. The songs are so distractingly dreadful that they take you out of the scenes rather than enhancing them. Gosling's theme song is a strange techno ditty that recurs, referring to him as a "Real human being. And a real hero."

Even with its 80s aesthetic, the cinematography is top notch, so it never gets boring to watch visually. And, though especially curious, the fact that there's no character development, no room for empathy, senseless violence, a muddled plot, and still an honest attempt at artistic integrity makes the film pretty compelling on the whole.

The biggest message I took away from this film is that, boy, Ryan Gosling's character sure loves to drive! And if you're able to appreciate that it never gets much more complicated than that, you'll probably enjoy the film as much as I did.

Alex the Golden Goddess

2011-09-21T23:47:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, I picked up a bad habit of watching the UK's version of Big Brother. If you ever catch me talking with a British accent for no apparent reason, it's because I've been watching this show so much (it's on every day!) that it seeps into my brain.

My favorite character this season is Alex. She's not funny, she's not smart, she doesn't say much, and - objectively - her appearance is pretty unfortunate. In no way would she normally be put on television, but for that very reason she becomes compelling. In that respect, Alex is the perfect example of "so wrong, it's right" casting.

It's fun to watch her just kind of hover around the interesting people, not knowing how to interact like a normal person. But this clip takes the cake: Big Brother is fucking with her in a so-funny-I-had-trouble-breathing way. WATCH THIS CLIP!

The gist is that, for a challenge, Alex must say yes to whatever Big Brother asks. I love how her fellow housemates figure out what's going on almost immediately, but it still takes Alex far too long to get it. That her housemates are dicks enough to say things like "Healthy glow," "It really suits you," and "It's like she jumped in a pool of shit or something" while laughing makes it even funnier.

And don't worry, you don't need to feel guilty about laughing at Alex. If I know the British public (and I do at this point), she will walk away from this show adored. The Brits don't like a woman who has intelligence, charm, opinions, or looks; fortunately, none of these apply to Alex. She's bound to become an antihero.

To Tell the Truth

2011-09-20T19:35:00.000-07:00

Isn't it funny how we go to a doctor for an honest assessment of our health, but when asked basic questions about our everyday practices, we can't help but lie? We want to believe we're treating our bodies right, so we say, "Yeah, I drink socially, occasionally, and exercise 4-5 times per week," even though in reality those activities' frequencies are probably switched. It must be interesting for doctors to have to go through this pointless charade day in and day out.

When one of my friends went for an appointment, a doctor-in-training ran the examination. For some reason, my friend felt too guilty to give false responses to the personal health questions because he didn't want to mislead someone who was still learning the ropes. So he wound up going for broke, rattling off a whole bunch of recreational drugs he had used in the past, as well as some other questionable health practices. The doctors present were amazed, unaccustomed to such candidness without there being a clear problem that would necessitate this sharing. Rather than chastising his unhealthy lifestyle, the doctors actually just thanked him for his refreshing honesty.

His story has now inspired some of my other friends to get real with their own doctors. "When they ask about my drinking habits, I'm going to tell them the truth: 30-40 a week," one said. "And at least two or three pizzas," another chimed in. On second thought, I'm not sure whether all doctors are prepared to hear the brutal truth of the way many twenty-somethings treat their bodies.

As for me, I don't even have to worry about this dilemma because I don't have healthcare. Bullshitting a doctor would require me going to a doctor. I'd actually like to thank all of those who fight to keep me uninsured, as it helps me to stay an honest man.

Slap Your Way to Bigger Breasts

2011-09-19T19:30:00.000-07:00

Slap Your Way to Bigger Breasts

Yo, today I wrote a story on an important medical development. I think it shows a lot of professionalism and restraint that I didn’t include a Chris Brown joke. The video is a must-watch.

Swift as an Arrow

2011-09-18T09:41:00.000-07:00

Hey, teenagers.

Yeah, you.

I know I haven't had the opportunity to address your kind since I was a high school teacher years ago. I also know that you didn't listen to me then, either, but if you give me just 30 seconds, I promise to leave you alone for a good long while.

When you are "helping" at a community volunteer event, and you agree to do the easiest job of all because you don't want to actually work like the rest of us, the expectation is that you at least get that minimal job done right.

You've been tasked with holding arrow signs to direct the rest of us volunteers to the starting location, which is not visible from the main road. When I walk by and you're too busy gossiping with your friend to acknowledge me, I'm going to assume the direction you have the arrow pointed is the way I should go. Ten minutes later when I've realized I've gone in the opposite direction, I am bound to be frustrated when I return.

I don't know whether you thought pointing it the other way would be funny. I don't know whether you dropped the sign and were too stoned to notice your mistake. I don't know whether you're really just that stupid. But one things for certain: you could have more effectively been replaced with a nail and a telephone pole. And that's true of teenagers in most circumstances.

In total, your incompetence cost more man hours than you offered in the first place; I alone lost twenty minutes trying to reorient myself. Therefore, I hope they forbid you from putting this "community service" on your college apps. If you can't point an arrow in the correct direction, you're not cut out for higher learning anyway.

Inflatable Breasts

2011-09-16T18:09:00.000-07:00

My roommate found this poster in her mom's basement. I blogged it here.

The Activist

2011-09-15T23:54:00.000-07:00

While on a walk to the grocery store, I thought of some of the things that I believe are going wrong with this country. The postal system is bankrupt? The Tea Party has clout? We're still involved in wars? I should share my opinions on these topics with everyone, I decided. In fact, I bet I'd make a fantastic activist. Why haven't I thought of this before?

Arriving at Trader Joe's, I saw a pair of guys with clipboards asking shoppers to donate money to some cause. People like them are always there, tugging on the liberal, vegan heartstrings of the shoppers. Before I walked by, I put my headphones on so I could act like I didn't notice them, but they were on to me. "Hey, hey, hey," one said, and I pretended like I couldn't hear. "We know you can hear us!" the second one added, and although he was right, I didn't flinch. "THANKS SO MUCH FOR YOUR TIME, HAVE A NICE DAY!" the first one shouted at me in an angry, sarcastic tone. Upset that this guy felt entitled to badger me with his agenda, I turned around and gave him the middle finger.

That's when I realized I had no business being an activist. Still, I had a good five-minute run of changing the world before aggressively deciding not to give a shit.

America's Next Top Model Blog

2011-09-14T23:52:00.000-07:00

Hey! America's Next Top Model's All-Star Cycle premiered tonight. I haven't watched it yet, but if I had, I'm sure I would have found it hysterical. Because ANTM casts some ridiculous girls and puts them in ridiculous situations. Which is why I started a blog "100 Funniest Moments on America's Next Top Model".

It's a countdown reliving the most hilarious moments, obviously getting more amusing as time goes on. I'll still be posting here, obviously, but you should start following that website, too!

Tonight on Television

2011-09-12T20:16:00.000-07:00

Switched from the Tea Party debates to the Miss Universe pageant. It's important to understand international issues, too. Besides, I prefer something a little more progressive.

No Thank You

2011-09-10T14:46:00.000-07:00

Yeah, Cameron, your summer sounds terribly busy. Baseball? How do you manage?! I'm surprised you even had time to write this note of gratitude what with all of the batting and catching you've been doing.

Maybe next year you should skip baseball and opt for summer school. "Bout"? Looks like someone's been more concerned with clothing than spelling.

As nice as it would be to get back in touch with you, Cameron, I won't be holding my breath. This note could have been a way to reconnect, yet you could barely be troubled to write even 4 sentences, 3 of which began with "I". Why not ask about how I am doing? Or am I just some nameless benefactor who "bout" you a "giftcard" and doesn't deserve the courtesy of a "Dear __" greeting? Addressing me would have even added to the word count - don't think I didn't notice your handwriting getting progressively larger to fill up space on the card.

Don't expect shit from me next year, Cameron.

When Freelancing Gigs Collide

2011-09-08T21:30:00.000-07:00

As a writer for a plastic surgery website, I don't just look at boobs a lot, I get paid to look at boobs a lot. I'd still prefer health insurance, but as far as job perks go, not too shabby. Today, for example, I was collecting photos of enlarged boobs for a story I wrote, dragging them onto my desktop to sort through later.

Then I switched gears to work for another employer. While a coworker trained me on how to use a new piece of software over Skype, he asked me to screenshare so he could talk me through the steps. I accepted, and it wasn't until several minutes later that I realized he could see the boobs in the background.

If it were porn, I would have thought about it beforehand, and covered that shit up! But since these breasts are "work", it didn't cross my mind initially. And now this coworker totally thinks I'm a pervert. Don't think that just because I don't work in an office people don't gossip. It's actually even easier to talk behind someone's back when you don't have to literally see his or her back.

Labor Day

2011-09-05T23:58:00.000-07:00

Don't tell anyone, but I worked a little bit today. Some people might consider this blasphemous to work on the holiday, but why do people not work on Labor Day? It's called Labor Day, and you're going to be lazy? If it were up to me, we'd all be working extra hard, and you'd be accountable for being twice as productive as you normally are. Let's champion the American work ethic with some unpaid overtime! Of course, as Ted pointed out, we don't make vets go back to war on Veterans' Day, so maybe my logic is flawed.

I wasn't too productive today, anyway. Unless you count that I spent a lot of time bowling. As Stacy noted, there is no better activity to celebrate blue-collar labor on this special day.

While I'm normally inclined to agree that bowling is not a sport, people who argue this clearly have never bowled thirteen games in a row. By the end, my hand was aching from lifting eleven pounds again and again and I could feel my arm muscles throbbing. I found that bowling might even be a legitimate work-out once I started playing by myself on a lane and had no time to sit down or rest my arm between frames. Talk about laborious!

Sensing Evil

2011-09-04T10:13:00.001-07:00

Standing outside while conversing at a party, several of us kept finding ourselves in the dark. The motion sensor light that illuminated our area turned off frequently, but it was fickle and pretty arbitrary in what would turn it back on. We would jump up and down and wave our arms to no avail, only to later have someone bend over to itch, causing the light to return.

On one occasion of prolonged darkness, we tried everything short of doing the hokey pokey to make the light return, but after no success, we resigned ourselves to just chatting in the dark. Then, an unfamiliar long-haired guy who had been sitting alone and silently in a broken rocking chair nearby stood up. As he walked by, the light picked up on his movement and finally turned back on. Before we could even thank him, he told us, "It only turns on when it senses evil."

We laughed - a bit awkwardly because he seemed sorta creepy - but it was also genuinely funny. However, rather than saying "just kidding" or staying to prove he was actually friendly as I would have done in the situation, he just walked away, leaving his "evil" line to just linger.

I encountered someone who is either the personification of evil or really knows how to commit to his jokes.

Connectiwhat?

2011-09-01T14:00:00.001-07:00

In fourth grade, I took a test where I had to label every state on map of America. Not only that, but every state had to be spelled correctly, so this wasn't just a geography exam, it was a spelling test, too.

I studied a lot for that test, and when I handed it in, I was confident that I had scored 100%. But when it was handed back to us the next day, I discovered that I had gotten one wrong. Was it Missouri? That's a tough one, but no. How about Delaware? The vowels are confusing in that one, but nope, I got that one. How about Massachusetts? I studied forever to remember which letters were doubled and which were not, and managed to do that successfully, too.

It turns out that I got Connecticut - or as I believed it to be, "Conneticut" - wrong. I could spell 49 states, but to miss that one was tragic. I say that not because I'm a perfectionist, but because that was my own state - the one and only state I had ever lived in.

I guess I didn't even bother to study Connecticut, because I already knew it... or thought I did. Why does Connecticut need three Cs anyway? That's pretty excessive for a state full of moderates.

To this day, I live in fear that I will make that same mistake again, saying "CONNECT - I - CUT" aloud to myself whenever writing the state's name. It's just one of many complexes I developed while living there.

Sporcle

2011-08-31T18:38:00.001-07:00

Do you Sporcle?

I always hesitate to mention Sporcle to friends because the site is like crack for nerds. It features timed trivia quizzes on a variety of topics, and it has become part of my daily routine. There is nothing so important that I won't procrastinate on in order to play Sporcle.

Today, one of the quizzes that I created is featured on the homepage, which has given me a bit of dork-gasm. How well do you know your 90s songs? Give it a play and tell me how you do.

Also, my username is "KevinBabbles" if you want to compete against me on other quizzes to see who gets the better score.

BFFs!

2011-08-29T11:52:00.001-07:00

Oh look, this guy who used to sit next to me in Environmental Physics class (and I haven't seen since) has requested to be my Facebook friend. How nice of him to think of me after all of these years. I see from his profile that we now live in the same city, maybe that's why he's trying to reconnect.

I wonder if we know people in common in LA. Let me check our mutual friends... just high school people. Wait, he wasn't actually ever friends with her. Or him. And definitely not him. And what's this on my newsfeed?

Slut! Clearly, I ain't nothing but a number to him. Take our internet "friendship" and cram it.

Video Music Award Nominees

2011-08-28T15:29:00.000-07:00

The MTV Video Music Awards are on tonight, and while browsing through the nominees, I realized that I have only seen one out of dozens of videos. Am I getting that old? To convince myself that I'm still hip to pop culture, I watched through all of the nominated videos and... wow. If these are the best videos of the year, perhaps they should just call the whole ceremony off.

I'll be rooting for two videos, each of which only received one nomination: "Howlin' for You" by The Black Keys, a captivating spoof of a Kill Bill-ish movie trailer and "Fuck You" by Cee Lo Green for having a video that's as fun-spirited as the song. I also have a soft spot for dimwitted Britney Spear's "Till the World Ends" because she seems to think a post-apocalyptic world will consist of writhing gay men. Mostly, I'm partial to the closing shot where her head is coming out of the sewer. It's a metaphor for her career, y'all!

As for the rest, whatever. We'll never see any of the New Artist nominees again (what the heck are you, Kreayshawn?) and the most controversial video might be Kanye West's "All the Lights" for the epilepsy warning that prefaces it. Way to keep it menacing, hip-hop.

I have some problems with other nominees. Beyonce's "Run the World (Girls)" is pretty revisionist as to how much power women have. And far be it from me to tell you how to do feminism, but having women dancing provocatively in skimpy clothing doesn't really signify empowerment as much as it demonstrates oppression. Lady Gaga, maybe you shouldn't have linked homosexuals with space aliens when your hokey song is trying to promote acceptance. And what right does Eminem have to turn his collaboration with Rihanna into a message about her own domestic abuse?

I figured the nominees for best video would be the cream of the crop, but they're all pretty lame, actually.:

Bruno Mars's "Grenade" is dull, though I did laugh when gang members screamed at him for a pushing a piano through their turf. I mean, what?

If Adele can't even be bothered to stand up during "Rolling in the Deep", why should I like it? She just sits in profile like she's Whistler's Mother or something. There's also enough broken glass to summon Annie Lennox. Maybe that was her dancing in the cocaine?

Katy Perry has four different videos nominated in various categories, but the one getting the top distinction is "Firework". I'm a little confused by the narrative. Are they doing a Care Bear stare? Is the sparkling a cautionary tale of gonorrhea? I know the song is supposed to be inspirational, but if all those people are lighting off hundreds fireworks in that enclose space, it will surely end in fatalities.

The Beastie Boys have an appropriately named song, "Make Some Noise", as they've been making the same noise for decades now. This gimmicky video's cast is a who's who of comedy (AKA the Beastie Boys call in every favor ever), though, and this is probably my favorite Elijah Wood performance ever.

By default, I guess I'm cheering for "Yonkers" by Tyler, The Creator, even though it only contains three main plot points: eating a cockroach, vomiting, hanging himself. MTV seems to have decided that suicide is "in" this year, because they've also nominated similarly themed videos from Pink and Rise Against.

Now that I know I'm apathetic to the nominees, I've decided to go see a production of Hamlet tonight rather than watch the awards show. If I'm going to be bored, I'd rather do it in the name of culture than pop culture.

Eyebrows

2011-08-27T17:44:00.000-07:00

Eyebrows scare me. Not actively, because they're subtle little things - I can go weeks without remembering eyebrows exist. Then suddenly I'll notice someone's eyebrows and freak out and then start looking at everyone's eyebrows. Why are there hairy strips sitting on our foreheads? Who thought that was a good idea?

We'd look even sillier without them, a friend pointed out. Would we, though? Whoopi Goldberg doesn't need eyebrows. For the first twenty-six years of my life, I didn't even notice she didn't have eyebrows, and I've seen Sister Act 2 at least seven times. Granted, once you've seen that they're missing (are they in the witness protection program, too, Sister Whoopi?), you can't un-see it, but clearly they aren't necessary.

Wikipedia argues that eyebrows are "important to human communication and facial expression", but Whoopi is an Oscar-winning actress. If she can communicate and emote that well without eyebrows, who needs 'em? If they're not good enough for Whoopi, they're not good enough for me.

A Conversation I Overheard That Didn't Go Much Like This, But I'm Pretending It Did Anyway

2011-08-25T22:27:00.000-07:00

Girlfriend 1: I have some exciting news.
Girlfriend 2: What?!
Girlfriend 1: I found out I was pregnant.
Girlfriend 2: Oh my god! Congratulations!
Girlfriend 1: Yeah... but I lost the baby.
Girlfriend 2: Oh no! I'm so sorry.
Girlfriend 1: It's okay.
Girlfriend 2: I, I, I... must have misunderstood, I thought you had exciting news.
Girlfriend 1: That is exciting news. I mean, I lost in on purpose. I had an abortion.
Girlfriend 2: So we can still go out for drinks, then?

Bagina

2011-08-23T16:15:00.000-07:00

Came home from the bar after a hard-fought trivia victory (free shots and drinks, y'all!) and saw Carlos's Facebook status and felt the need to share a fun fact about myself:

It's true, I thought women's genitals were known as "baginas" - yes, with a b - until a frighteningly old age. However, before posting, I started to doubt whether I learned the correct pronunciation from Hocus Pocus and decided to research.

I found a script online and while there is a suggestive exchange about "yabos", there are no vagina references (or bagina references, for that matter), so it must have been another film from my childhood that taught me the proper enunciation of vagina. But which one? Again, I decided to research. And this is how I searched:

I'm pretty sure the FBI is currently on its way to apprehend me. It's been nice knowing you all!

You've Had Enough

2011-08-22T16:35:00.000-07:00

I spoke of the never-ending pasta bowl special yesterday, but it's worth noting that not everything is limitless at Olive Garden.

By the time we were slowing to halt on the pasta-eating front, the manager appeared at our table. I was momentarily concerned that he was going to call us foolish pigs, but instead he had a question for Ted, who had just ordered his fourth beer: "Will you be driving?"

Most of our party had never seen an establishment do this. I've seen something similar twice before: when Pam got drunk at Chili's on The Office and also when the annoying guy next to me on an airplane got so nervous that he drank five whiskies and amusingly/drunkenly told the flight attendant who asked whether he would be driving, "No, ma'am, I'm flying." I give kudos to Olive Garden for being responsible, but if they really cared about our well-being, they would have cut us off of the noodles, too.

Since Ted carpooled and wouldn't be driving, the manager said he'd be happy to bring him a fourth beer. While the manager went to get the drink, Ted admitted that he thought about saying, "I'm not driving, but I am an alcoholic." I would have given all the breadsticks in the world to see that and learn just how much Olive Garden cares.

All You Can Eat

2011-08-21T19:46:00.000-07:00

I participated in two all-you-can-eat events in the span of three days. I'm refusing to step on a scale currently, but I think it's safe to say I have an obese state of mind, if nothing else. What's wrong with me?

First was Korean BBQ, where I ate meat, meat, meat, and meat. While there, I unbuttoned my pants, but asked the person next to me to remind me to button them before leaving so I wouldn't repeat the time I lost my pants at Olive Garden. Fortunately, I ended up remembering all by myself!

The next day I saw a commercial that the never-ending pasta bowl special was back at Olive Garden. And rather than saying, "I'm still full from last night," I immediately starting organizing a competition for the following night.

Six of us participated in this fierce battle, which required a lot of strategy. Skip the complimentary salad and breadsticks to save more room for pasta? Choose a lighter sauce? Pick a hollow-shaped pasta so that your bowl would be full of more air?

Jessica, who hadn't eaten all day in preparation for the event, took an early lead. Once she lapped us a bowl early, she had the enviable position of just being able to match us bowl for bowl. I think my mistake was trying to eat whole wheat pasta. Healthier, sure, but way too filling. I wanted to make a move at the end, but she would have just forced herself to eat another one, so the final tally was 2 bowls: Alice and Laura; 3 bowls: Ted, Preston, Kevin; 4 bowls: Jessica, proving she is worthy of her "Hungry, Boastful Jessica" title.

I was worried that the waitress would be annoyed by how much food we were having her bring, but she got into our competition, calling out the slackers for slowing down. I asked the waitress what the pasta bowl record was, and she said that her boyfriend served a guy who ordered and ate thirteen refills. My jaw would have popped open in shock were I not too afraid that pasta would pour out.

"Is it safe to assume that this was a rather large man?" I asked.
"Actually, it's safe to assume that it was a skinny Asian man."
Skinny Asian men always besting us fat Caucasian Americans at eating contests! What do we have if not excelling at shoveling hotdogs and pies down our throats? Sigh.

I'm not exaggerating when I say several of us were on the verge of vomiting. While our peers were out on Friday night putting themselves in a similar state from drinking too much, we dealt with pasta hangovers the next day. On the bright side, however, I again remembered to button my pants before standing up from the table. That makes it twice in a row that I didn't lose my pants in public at a restaurant. Looks like I'm getting smarter! ... in addition to getting fatter.

Dwarves and Elves

2011-08-19T15:12:00.000-07:00

At dinner, my companions were nerding out and talking about their favorite fantasy books, a subject on which I know nothing. Looking for a little clarification, I asked what I thought was an innocent question: "What's the difference between a dwarf and an elf?"

You would have thought I dropped a racial slur the way all six other people acted offended by the question. Here are my three favorite responses to my query:

1. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? Dwarves are just short, but elves are so much more."
2. "That's like asking, 'What's the difference between a mountain and a forest?'"
3. "Let's put it this way - I would never have sex with a dwarf, but I dream of having sex with an elf."

I still can't say that I understand the difference, but I know better than to pose that question again.

My Madonna

2011-08-16T23:53:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday, Madonna! How Plastic Surgery Gave Her a Youthful Face at 53

Yeah, I'm a hack. But I'm a hack who is good at Madonna song wordplay.

White Noise

2011-08-15T19:56:00.000-07:00

Why's it gotta be called "white" noise? How come the soft, soothing noise that people fall asleep to is "white"? Does that mean that the annoying sounds that disturb you are "black noise"?

You know them white folks are like "What's with all that black noise out the window. I need some white noise just to get some shut eye around here.

You know white people think that white noise goes like this: "After I finish my latte, I'm on my way to my tennis match."
And then they think that black noise goes like this: "WAZZUP? LET'S FUCKIN' LISTEN TO SOME COOLIO AND DRINK SOME FORTIES, BITCHES!"

It's all a buncha racism, I tell you.

---------

And thus concludes my attempt at being a hack 90s standup comic.

Laugh 'til You Cry

2011-08-14T18:30:00.000-07:00

"Come to the bar," he said. "I'll probably be there."
"Probably?" I asked. "What's with the indecision?"
"I don't want to say," he said.
"You don't want to say?" she asked.
"It's a phone call. About what, I don't want to say," he said.
"Sounds like a booty call," she said. "You're hoping to get a better offer for the night?"
"Now I really don't want to say," he said. "Maybe I'll see you there."

We walked to the bar without him. Fifteen minutes later, he appeared.

"Everything okay?" I asked.
"Everything's... okay," he hesitated.
"And the phone call?" I asked.
"Oh, the phone call didn't happen," he said.
"Why not?" I asked.
"It might have ruined my night," he said. "And I decided I'd rather come here."
"I don't understand," I said.
"I'm expecting to hear bad news," he said.
"Oh," I said.
"Now I feel like I have to tell you," he said.
"No you don't," I said. "Unless it really is about a booty call."
"No, it's..." he started saying, but he was laughing. "We have to stop laughing before I tell you this. Because it's not funny."
"Okay," I said.
"You can't laugh," he said again.
"I won't," I said.

I could already feel my lips moving upward into a smile, however. Not laughing is hard when you're forbidden from it. He looked about to laugh, too.

"The phone call has to do with a family member who... who is not doing well," he said.
"Oh no," I said.
"Really not well, actually," he said.

I laughed. I had tried to contain it, but I laughed, and I felt like a dick for doing so. But he laughed, too.

"I'm sorry," I said. "You're right, that's not funny at all."
"It's okay," he said. "I don't know why, but I'm laughing, too.

We laughed because we weren't up for crying that night.