I'm 12.

The boredom of working on a Saturday night has reached an all time low. I decided to committ about 30 minutes to the task of answering some quizlets on bzoink.com. From what I can tell, bzoink was created by and for pre-teen girls. It's a warehouse of surveys, poll and quizlets geared towards finding your crush or blabbing about yourself until the point of vomiting. Everything you take part in can be spit out in html format for you to further poison the internet with. The odd thing about completing these is that there seems to be a slant of negativity to them. Or at least that was the case for me.

What I learned this evening:

My pimp name is JUICE BOX and my rapper name is MO' FRESH FLAVA (I thought is was Skip O'Pot2Mus?). Apparently I will die by committing SUICIDE when I'm 59 by slitting my wrists. 342 people HATE me and 598 LOVE me. Some how this equates to being 94% loved? The first letter of the first name of the woman I will marry is E however, I'll only have sex .5 times in my life. I'm 74% Ugly, 90% Gay and my sexiest feature is my NOSE.

I came across a Love Compatability quiz and found out that essentialy regardless of who I enter my advice is consistently "don't brag about yourself, they don't like that." I attmpted my compatability with as many girls as I could name and was surprised by the results. I'm only 47% compatible with Mandy Moore and my sister's friend Amy who I've lusted after for 5 years, 54% with Ashley Olsen, 72% with Mary Kate Olsen, 57% with Kate Winslet, 45% with Queen Latifah, 86% with Dido, 85% with Brad Pitt and 69% with Jennifer Aniston.

I think you get the idea. The internet is very strange place.

Some Kind of Monster

I recall hearing something back when this documentary came out that you didn't have to be a fan of Metallica to appreciate the movie. Well I'm here to tell you that is completely WRONG. I loathe Metallica. In my opinion they are completely overrated and James Hetfield just cannot fucking sing. My love of documentary film forced me to give this one a chance despite my better judgement and I was greatly disappointed. I gained no insight at all into who these idiots are or whether or not they even like each other. Or if they ever did? Let me back up in case you are not aware of what this film is about.

So Metallica is falling apart, the bass player quits and they are considering making another record (the why is never really explained, as it's clear that no one is begging for a new record and at this point I think record sales of St. Anger proved that.) however, the guys aren't getting along. So they hire this performance coach/therapist to join their little fold and help them sort out their problems as a band. 2 and 1/2 hours later I guess all is well in metal land and the new record comes out. The therapy scenes don't reveal much at all about the relationships that these clowns have with each other or with their families. It's a lot of boring scenes of sitting around making music that sucks and bitching at each other like bandmates do. Aside from seeing Lars Ulrich's Dad who is cool as hell looking and watching Dave Mustaine cry about being kicked out of the band like 18 years ago, their isn't much meat on this bone.

My favorite scene was the initial interview with the bass player that quit the band, Jason Newstead. Essentially when the idea was brought up about needing a therapist to sort out the band's issues, Newstead says "I thought that this is really fucking lame!" I couldn't agree more.

Hook Me Up!

Help me get my Photo iPod!

Click the link, sign up for a crappy credit card or some shit and I'll get a free IPOD. Or so they claim. I need only 10 takers...

The Move Is On

And so it begins...

Moving sucks. There is so much hassle involved, address changes, sorting out utilities, getting keys, arranging a truck, finding helpers and figuring out what you need to survive. I'm already tired and I haven't started yet.

Today I went to IKEA to scout out a new bed (my bed frame is like 10 years old and I've moved it a million times) and wound up buying a bunch of shit that I will need for my new place. I got a nice little Dining Table and 2 chairs, silverware, food containers, some plates, and various other crap. I have to make a return trip to get the bed at some point before Sunday afternoon. I also went to Best Buy and purchased a shiny new microwave oven. What my plan is for moving is to buy as much shit as possible, throw away the old and start anew. In fact, I'm about to go sort through some shit and see what I can toss once Judge Judy is over.

As far as my utilties go, I did manage to sort out a lot of shit today...namely electric, cable and internet. I can't remember if my new place uses gas or not, so I'm laying off on calling them until I see the place again. Hopefully it's not gas heat, or it might be frigid in there for a couple days. I decided to say FUCK COMCAST and stick with Road Runner as my internet provider. I found an offer online for $29.99 a month for 6 months with Road Runner which sounds good to me. I also decided to go with the Dish Network instead of cable. This company called Allsat is running a great deal that I couldn't pass up. $39.99 a month for 120 channels, including locals AND Tivo on 2 TVs. I'm stoked about this deal. I have wanted Tivo for the longest time....and it's finally here. Unless of course I can't get a letter from my new landlord that says I can have a dish put up on the property. All in all, 70 bucks a month gets me Cable and Internet. Not bad.

Speaking of cable/internet, ours is getting turned off in roughly 15 hours. Yikes. I'm going to be TV and computer free for a couple days. I guess I'll read? I saved up some Netflix movies for the ocassion. And then there's that whole moving thing I need to get moving on...

Hey Bitch! Mind Your Business!

Today at work, this person I work with decided to ease drop on a conversation of mine, then proceeds to ask me to cover her work for over an hour so she can go chat with our boss and "discuss" the specifics of a conversation that she most likely half heard at best. Why can I be sure that she only "half heard" the conversation? Well, as a barometer I'm using her retention of shit that we must know to our job adequately, and let me tell you, it ain't pretty. I could fit in a thimble all that she does know about our job and have plenty of room.

What really steams me is that my boss doesn't even approach me about this situation, instead writes an email to everyone outlining "new rules" about the very issue I was discussing earlier, privately with an employee. Like I'm not supposed to figure out that the email is directed to me? What am I fucking retarded?

Movies News

Oscar Nominations came out today. Ugh. That about sums it up. Besides being completely predictable, the Academy fails to get any younger in it's approach. You can tell the voters are fucking retirees. In the first year in 3 years without Lord of the Rings to dominate, looks like they took pity on Martin Scorcese and nominated the shit out of The Aviator. I have zero interest in seeing this movie. Besides that, how can a movie that won Best Comedy at the Golden Globes and Best Screenplay not have a Best Actor Nomination for Paul Giamatti? He WAS the fucking movie!!! And did Kate Winslet act by herself or was Jim Carrey in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I'm not a huge Jim Carrey fan...but that was the performance of his life. And while on the subject of Eternal Sunshine, no nods for art or cinematography went it's way either? Unreal.



Sundance notes; Apparently Kevin Costner is getting his grove back (The Upside of Anger) and krumping, clown dancing, is the premise of a documentary by photographer David LaChapelle. I wish I was there.

Wee Hawk

After rocking the jumbo hawk for all of one day, I just trimmed it down to a very stylish military cut that still kind of resembles a mini-hawk of sorts. Honestly, I wish I was able to style a jumbo hawk, but I don't have that kind of time. And I don't feel comfortable sporting it in public. However, I'm still very excited about the Eagles making the Superbowl and tonight in celebration, I am going to watch King Arthur with Clive Owen.

And oh yeah, I went with Rochelle Ave and the place is mine. I sign the lease Wednesday morning. Another year of my life committed to Roxborough USA. I'm right off the train station platform, so now no one can bitch about coming to visit me.

All that remains:

Fat Kid Getting Nutty

E-A-G-L-E-S, Eagles!!!!!!

Donnie Mac, Chad Lewis, Freddie Mitch....my boys represent! In honor of this trip the Superbowl....I present the Skip's mohawk! If the People's Champ can rock it, so can I.

Don't Drink and Blog

The aftermath. I feel ok, not hungover that much and feel oddly refreshed. I ate a ton of bean dip that is giving me some lethal gas, but otherwise I'm good to go. The same can't be said for the roommates who appear to have been collectively run over by a car. I can vaguely recall posting the crap below in a drunken stupor. Forgive me fair readers as I was having a melt down of sorts due to massive consumption of PBR, Sparks and Lemon Drop shots. Drunk people say, do and "write" the silliest things. Instead of being a pussy and just deleting what I wrote, I thought I would let it stand as a reminder of the evils of drinking.

And now we watch the Eagles win. And then we dig my car out of the gas station across the street and park it somewhere legitimate. Yee-Haw!

But Baby It's Hot In Here

The heat is cranking higher than any of us can afford. The party was a bust. No one came out for it, and with good reason, massive amounts of snow. I was convinced that I would be swimming in beer until Tuesday, but my oh my, all the beer was drunk by the small crew that did represent. Eagles game tomorrow at 3 and I'll be drinking vodka and coke throughout and trying not to dwell on how sad my life is right now. I'm clearly depressed, and I long for affection in some way. I'm drunk as shit right now, so forgive me if I get lame. I wish the girl of my dreams was here tonight. I really do. I heart her hard.

What's It Gonna Be Boy?

My search for an apartment came to a head today when I decided before I looked at 2 different apartments, that it was going to be one or the other.

In this corner we have a 1 bedroom apartment on the ground floor of a detached single home located steps from the Wissahickon regional rail train station and directly across the street from a bar. And in this corner we have a trinity, 2 bedroom with spiral stair case located in the heart (or should I say bowels?) of South Philly.

Since I have no choice but to take the process to the next level, i.e. credit check, applications and deposit, I had to weigh the pros and cons of both locations/spaces and make a decision this evening. Before I reveal the winner, let me describe in excruciating detail the layout, bright spots and negatives of each place so that you can feel my pain.

Location 1: Rochelle Ave
This one bedroom apartment is a first floor unit in a stand alone house (no houses connected on any side) with 4 units above it. The entrance to the apartment is actually not on the front of the house, but rather the side down an alleyway of sorts. To the immediate left of the house is a mechanic's garage that appears to be hurting for business. (It was closed at 11 AM on Friday?) About 50 yards down the street is the train station for easy access to the city, this may be concerning as it could be a high traffic area during commuting hours. Across the street is TJ Hogan's, a dive bar that may or may not be a haven for cocaine. The one and only idiot I know that frequents that joint is now completely consumed with the little white powder. Moving on to the particulars of the space itself...when you enter the apartment the kitchen unit is dead ahead, off to the side in the rather spacious room. The kitchen/dining room/living room are essentially this one room much like a studio apartment. The door to the place is actually towards the rear of the house, so the kitchen is against the back wall. As we move toward the front of the house there is a small hallway that contains a door to the full bathroom. Shitter, shower and sink are decent looking, and the room isn't that tiny. At the end of this very short "hallway" (we're talking 4 feet maybe) is the door to the bedroom. This room is huge! It's as big as the kitchen/living room. From the front of the house, the bedroom is behind the front windows where you would expect a living room to be. The interesting layout appeals to me. As an added bonus there is another shitter/sink in the bedroom in addition to a closet. Washer/Dryer are located on site with access to all residents of the 5 units in the place via a key. What I don't like about the place is everything is electric (heat/stove), some of the outlets look shody (missing cover plates),the kitchen and living are basically one room and the kitchen is "dated".

Location 2: Beulah Street
This trinity is located on a small, alley street between 7th and 8th street right off Dickinson in South Philly. Parking looked okay, even if the neighborhood didn't. On the 1500 block of this street there are a bunch of garages and only a handful of homes. Some of the homes look bombed out, but the street could be labeled quaint since there is little foot or street traffic. But it's rough looking, very urban. A friend who lives on this block describes it as "Post World War 2 Warsaw" and says that she feels safe living there. The good part about this place was that it is 2 bedrooms and $50 less a month than the apartment on Rochelle. Parking, 2 bedrooms, a whole house! What's not to love? So when you walk into this place you are smack dab in the tiny living room. It's basically about 10 feet by 15 feet and has hardwood floors. There is a spiral stair case that leads upstairs at the far right of the room and next to the spiral stairs is a door with window cutouts that conceals access to the gross, dirty basement. Around the corner from the living room is the kitchen which was nothing more than a stove, sink and a couple cabinets. (No fridge?) There is a small cement yard beyond the kitchen that looked like it could hold a grill and not much else. Up the spiral stairs to the 2nd floor we have a small room and the bathroom. Nothing special about this, looks kind of grubby, but it could have been the lack of heat in the place that contributed to my feelings that the bathroom looked cold. Up another spiral stair case, we enter directly into the top floor bedroom which was described as a Loft. The ad failed to mention the 6 foot ceilings in this loft. Or the closet door that was a regular sized door with the bottom sawed off leaving the door knob closer to the ground than anyone besides Verne Troyer would appreciate. This room was decent sized, with a couple of windows, but the low ceilings might be trouble. And a fat guy and spiral stairs are not a good mix.

So there you have it, a dissection of what I have to choose from as my next humble abode. Considering all the options, I've opted for the 1 bedroom located literally around the corner from my current house. It's easier to move there, parking is ample on the street, I know the area, I love 2 bathrooms since I love to shit and I think I will be happier there. Rochelle Avenue gets the nod and now we wait and see. I'm anxious as all hell to make this nightmare end. I've wasted so many hours on this project, including the 45 minutes I've spent writing this post. Let it end.

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

Kill me!

Ok. So I have been forcing myself to just deal with my housing situation and not allow myself to have any enjoyment whatsoever. No watching TV shows that I like, no watching Netflix, no going to the movies on my day off, no shopping for anything other than necessities and despite my best efforts, all I've accomplished is stripping my life of anything that resembles joy. I still have no place to call my own and the deadline of January 31 looms and in the meantime I've made myself miserable. I have spent probably 400 hours on craigslist looking for a new apartment over the past 6 weeks. My eyes hurt when I sleep from being on the internet.

I'm consumed with my concerns about money, my job, my future, my nonexistent love life. I anxious to live on my own again, but scared by the prospect of what that means. Can I afford it? Will I get lonely? Will I become a hermit? Will I be able to afford a social life? There's that word again AFFORD. It's so expensive living alone in this city. Can I survive without cable, a luxury that might be too costly? Can I make it without internet at home, again too costly?

Tomorrow I am scheduled to see a couple of places and I need to be less picky than I ever have in my life. I need to make a move. I want to have a reason to rejoice on Saturday night, not wallow in depression over my lack of decent housing. We are celebrating the end of an era, the end of college for some and the end of The Ridge for all. I want this night be one full of memories and fun, not despair. It's bad enough that the impending threat of snow is already making this party unstable, I don't need to add to it.

Please, Please, Please, Let Me, Let Me, Get What I Want This Time

To Take The Edge Off

It's less than 30 minutes until Fox starts up yet another search for the blandest singer in the USA. Fucking American Idol. Didn't Fantasia not even having much of a career play a part in deciding to continue this insanity? Clay Aiken is the biggest star to come outta this mess and he didn't even win. And he's clearly still hiding in the closet. (Poor kid.) And I hear they are jacking up the weekly show count to 3 instead of the unnecessary 2 like seasons past. Who has time to watch 3 episodes of American Idol per week? I'm not saying that I won't watch it, I'm just not sure why it's still on. Every year I say I will watch it just to see the talent pool and then I'm out. And every year I get sucked in. That red headed fuck had me intrigued enough last go round to make me tape every episode. Damn you! And if they get a cute girl on there. Man...3 shows a week? I'm a dead man. I got shit to do. I'm moving in 2 weeks. And tonight Amazing Race is on as well. Obligations. I'll tell you....

Nice Globes!

The Golden Globes were on last night, and as per usual we had a little "contest" to see who could pick the most winners. I previously posted my handicaps for the event, but I didn't use that as a guide when making my last minute picks yesterday. I wound up in a tie for first place with Noele with 7 right out of 24 categories. Yikes. That is horrible. I'll blame my lack of success on the following: I was drinking all day watching my beloved Eagles soar high over the Vikings, I was pressed for time as I arrived home 15 minutes prior to showtime and I haven't seen many of the nominated films yet. (The Golden Globes used to be in February, this accelerated awards season is reeking havoc on my schedule.) I plan on seeing Million Dollar Baby, Hotel Rwanda and A Very Long Engagement before February...so I'll be sure to be more prepared come Oscar time.

Below is a recap of who I boosted WOULD win and who DID win last night.

Best Picture, Drama: I said Finding Neverland will win, but Aviator took the prize. Ugh. I hate Scorcese. He's the worst.

Actress, Drama: I picked Imelda Staunton. Hilary Swank won. I was way off. Good to see Hilary back on top though....but man is Chad Lowe a pussy or what? Get a job dude.

Actor, Drama: I had Depp winning by a nose on the blog and in my panic last night I went with Javier Bardem, but Nooooo, fucking Leo won. I am starting to think I need to see this Aviator movie, but it just looks so fucking boring to me.

Picture, Musical or Comedy: Thankfully Sideways won. I would have preferred Eternal Sunshine, but I'll take it. I picked The Incredibles here last month. Again, way off. Maybe the foriegn press is like me....sick of PIXAR movies.

Actress, Musical or Comedy: "Winslet is amazing, but the Zellwegger can't lose. They love her. (Keep an eye on Bening...)" this was my take on this category last month....TOLD YOU SO. Bening won for a movie that NO ONE, and I do mean NO ONE saw.

Actor, Musical or Comedy: Yeah!!! I had one right. Good work Mr. Foxx and great speech. I cried. I laughed. This dude is talented.

Foreign Language: The Sea Inside won. I was off with Flying Daggers. (I saw Daggers after I predicted it would win and it wasn't that good. Shame on me.)

Supporting Actress: "Portman was a bright spot in Closer for me, but Madsen was resurrected in Sideways. Virginia all the way." Again I was wrong, but I was kind of right. Yeah Natalie!

Supporting Actor: "Clive Owen was another bright spot in Closer and was able to go from nice guy, to prick, to down and out flawlessly, but Thomas Haden Church was just too fucking funny not to win this one." Wrong again, but I praised the rightful winner again. My homo crush Clive looked dashing by the way.

Director: Clint Eastwood, "Million Dollar Baby" won, I had Forster. Oh well.

Screenplay: "For me, Sunshine and Sideways are a toss up. Kaufman has the edge." So close....Sideways won.

TV

Drama Series: Nip/Tuck? I don't even get FX. I had Lost.

Actress, Drama Series: I had Jennifer Garner, but Mariska Hagarty won from Law and Order. Man she looked hot too. I guess Elektra bombing this weekend made it a shitty time all around for Jenny.


Actor, Drama Series: Spader was robbed. Ian Fucking McShane? Who are you? Deadwood? Who watches that junk.

Series, Musical or Comedy: "Arrested Development is the funniest show on TV right now. Fuck those Desperate Housewives. I'm already sick of the hype." Does this count as half-right? The new Sex and the City....GREAT!

Actress, Musical or Comedy: Who cares? I had Sara Jessica....but Teri Hatcher won. She was good in those Radio Shack commericals. I'll give her that.

Actor, Musical or Comedy:Another one right!!!! "Incredibly hard choice between Larry David and Jason Bateman for me. I think I'll go with Bateman." Awesome!! It's Your Move was his best work, but man Arrested Development is hilarious.

Supporting Actress, Miniseries, Movie or Series: Drea de Matteo was my choice, Angelica Houston won. Guess the voters are watching Joey...

Supporting Actor, Miniseries, Movie or Series: "Jeremy Piven and the Shat are both incredible. Make this one a tie. Pretty please." Wasn't a tie, but the Shat did win.

So there you have it. My predications examined and exposed. I'm not perfect. I'll do better at the Oscars. Trust me.

I'm Straight....however,

I have this obession with Clive Owen that makes me slightly uncomfortable. I thought he was the best part of Closer, great in the Croupier, I even liked his small role in Bourne Identity. Last night I watched an okay British flick called I'll Sleep When I'm Dead that he was the star of just because he was in it. And tonight I might plow through King Arthur, another "just cause he's in it" rental from Netflix. I think the guy emits some sort of odorless mind control drug through the screen that makes me like him. Not sexually, but like I want to "be" him. Like when I wanted to "be" Judd Nelson in the Breakfast Club. I fucking ran out and bought a trenchcoat and some fingerless gloves the minute that movie ended.

I'm also thinking highly of Chris Knight aka Peter Brady. The guy seems like the quintessential Nice Guy on the new Surreal Life. I love the fact that he starts macking that model chick eventually. When he carried Mini Me to bed, my heart melted. (Oh my God....maybe I am gay?)

Think of something hetero quick!


Much better.

In other news, can I mention that I also love TOBLERONE. Have you had it? Swiss Milk Chocolate with Honey and Almond Nougat. So fucking good. So are POCKY come to think of it. If you don't know POCKY, you don't know shit. Chocolate is evil.

I'm in a better mood today I suppose. Nothing new has happened, a lot of shit is in limbo. I wouldn't mind having some things squared away, but at least I'm breathing. My boys are talking about a Vegas trip in May...and I'm leaning towards a visit to Colorado in late July to see my fucking pathetic, inactive in the off season-Phillies play the Rockies at Coors Field. I said I want to travel more in 2005 and here it goes. The bookings start with these two for starters and we take it from there.

Bad Moods

It seems like everyone I know is in a bad mood these days. Today I let it get to me and was in one myself. I hate going to work and being around people who hate being there. Since I try to always be positive and upbeat there, I kind of expect that in return. Not possible. The negativity is contagious sometimes and it's getting on my nerves.

Everyone needs to just fucking chill out. It's a job. It pays you money. It affords you to live your life. If you don't like it, get one you do like. Being upset or angry isn't the answer. I want everyone to be happy, but that's not enough. People have to try a little on their own. I'm sorry your loans are expensive. I'm sorry he dumped you. I'm sorry that you cannot text message people while you are at your desk on a phone call with a customer. I'm sorry that you were given the wrong answer by the supervisor of the year. I'm sorry that I said what I said. I'm sorry that I made fun of you. I'm sorry that you can't just do what you want and get paid for it and get a fucking raise when you feel like you deserve one.

Sometimes I want to put a bullett in my head.

Tomorrow is a new day. I'll think about applying for that other job a little more...or I won't.

"this song will change your life..."

Last night I watched Garden State on DVD. Man, I think I could watch that movie 100 times and not get sick of it. I want a girl like Sam. I want to know a millionaire who has a big mansion. I want a best friend who digs graves and smokes weed. Movies are awesome.

Musical Day

Today I spent the majority of my time listening to music, some old, some new. How fucking good is music? I have so much respect for musicians, the guys and girls who do it day in and day out and strive to make something that someone else will enjoy.

I busted out a classic CD when I woke up, So by Peter Gabriel. There are some tracks on that album that are just amazing. Red Rain. Don't Give Up. Really incredible shit. I know that most people remember Pete for his wacky videos, but the man was a great songwriter back in the 80's. I remember winning So on the boardwalk in Wildwood when I was about 16. My uncle and I were getting into trouble up on the boards and were drunk and we played this game where you threw darts at stars lined up on cork board, if you got your dart in the star part, you could pick a cassette tape. We both won after spending probably the equivalent of what it would have cost to buy the damn tapes, but we didn't care. Uncle Dave grabbed Raising Hell by Run DMC and I picked Mr. Gabriel's So. We spent the rest of the night cruising Atlantic in his car blasting both albums looking for chicks. I remember how I felt the first time I heard Don't Give Up. I didn't know what depression was at the time, but I knew that this song made me feel better about things, namely not getting any girls to talk to us. It's come in handy more times than I can to talk about over the years as well. So opened me up to the whole world of Peter Gabriel and I wound up owning most of his solo shit on vinyl. Solisbury Hill, Biko, Games without Frontiers, my, my, my. Lot of good times me and Pete had.

I tried to give that new Beastie Boys another shot and man is it weak. Thankfully I was fully involved in scouring internet for various things, such as plans for a loft bed, 1 bedroom apartments for rent CHEAP and pictures of Kirsten Dunst losing her bikini top in the ocean. The distraction made listening to this album tolerable.

Tonight a friend of mine slid me an album via IM of this dude Ray LaMontagne. Amazing. Please seek him out and hear this stuff. Very 70's, CSNY/Buffalo Springfield kind of stuff. I'm in love with this record and I've only heard it once so far. The man drips of soul and his lyrics are so rich and thought provoking. (I'm also excited to have obtained Neutral Milk Hotel's On Avery Island from this same sweetheart. Thanks A.) If you haven't heard NMH, stop reading RIGHT now and go to ITunes and download that shit. For real.

I guess all this music listening made me forget about the latest trauma that happened to me today. I nearly bit off my own tongue while eating a hoagie. Who knew this was even possible? I thought your brain would sense that you are about to bite off the tip of your tongue and tell your teeth to stop. Apparently not. I really did some damage. So much so that I think I now have a lisp. As if being obnoxious and fat weren't enough of a handicap. I'm a real winner.

Let me close by saying that Wicker Park soundtrack is a decent listen, but hot damn that movie is a piece of freshly laid dog poo. Matthew Lillard and Josh Hartnett both absolutely blow. It's long, lame and an utter waste of time. Please avoid it.

Right of Passage, Eagles Bus Style

Things didn't go exactly as planned last night, but I was able to meet up with the "Eagles" bus and the happy twenty first for Noele in Manayunk. I got to miss the Finnegan's Wake portion of the evening, so you won't hear me complaining too much. The real tragedy in all of this was joining a drink fest in progress where everyone was like 50 laps ahead. I didn't have my first beer until midnight whereas everyone on this party bus began at 7 PM and was shithoused by midnight. All the ladies looked fine and the guys all looked way to drunk to notice that, so I was tempted to try and shoot fish in a barrell, but decided otherwise. Instead of going back to PENN to sleep on a slab of floor and try my luck at convincing some chick that it would be an excellent idea to make out, I opted to roll home and hit the sack in my own comfy bed. Is age catching up with me? Or is it maturity? Nah. Probably just laziness. I'm glad I was able to make an appearance at the very least since Noele is like the coolest chick I know. And her old man Kevin is my favorite non-little brother, little brother. Happy Birthday. May all your dreams be of Natural Light and Whiskey.



This picture was taken moments after our guest of honor ate half a soft pretzel that fell on to the dirty bus floor and under the seat. Foul.

But very PUNK ROCK!

Eyes Closing...

Winter. How come it feels like midnight at 5 PM these days? Fucking daylight savings time. I had two caffienated beverages and a smoothie with "energy" boost today and I still could fall asleep at my desk here at work. It's dark outside. Essentially this is my Friday night since I'm off for the next 2 days, and I have plans to get crunk...but I have this uneasy "I need bed rest" feeling coming on. Maybe it's work. The boredom of it is stifling sometimes.

Holy Shit....I Know Her!

I have literally waited my entire life, well at least 20 years, to stumble across a person that I actually know to be in pornography. Every time I would come across some new clip on the internet or some random photo that someone emails, inside I was always thinking what a thrill it would be if I recognized the person in the sex act. I don't think I thought much beyond the initial reaction that I would have, i.e. would my thrill quickly turn to disgust or judgement? I never (thankfully) considered what I would do if it were a relative like one of my many sisters. I just wanted to get that initial rush of OH MY GOD!!!! The fallout would come later.

Well, here we are in the fallout shelter.

Yesterday's weekly paper in Philly had a cover story on this 21 year old Asian dude who wants to be the next king of porn. It's a lousy article that basically portrays this guy as an idiot, but there was one interesting tidbit that made someone I know a little too curious. Apparently this guy paid 2 girls to have sex with each other on camera 3 years ago when he was 18 and made some money by selling his first "movie" on EBAY. The article recounts that he paid each girl $100 which they "needed for rent" and goes on to mention that they were Temple students. EEEEERRRRRRRR. It was at this point that my brother Dan put on the brakes and repeated back to himself, "Temple students?" Since Dan is on the verge of graduating from Temple, I guess you could say that curiousity caught the cat. The thrill of wondering if he knows these girls was too much for Dan to take and he decided to check out this Asian porn king's pathetic website to catch of glimpse of these deseperate chicks. What I don't think Dan was planning to see was his ex-girlfriend getting finger banged by some other girl in a dingy hotel bed. Adding to the creepines factor, the timeline suggests that this movie was made right after he and she went their separate ways. Yikes.

Having watched a little snippet of this movie myself, I can honestly say that I don't think I like the idea of knowing the participants. I had odd dreams last night about the whole situation and I know that my brother is wrestling with the idea that he once dated a "porn star" which for some can be a trophy and for others shameful. I can recall this particular girl at my house hanging out with my high school sisters, eating dinner at my folk's dinner table, being smart and funny and sweet. Even though the break up was bad, it was between brother Dan and her, my memory of her was just little things. Now that's all changed. I don't judge her, I just have a desire to hear her explain her actions. It's like I want her to be a freak who doesn't give a shit, not some confused girl that did something "cool" for the thrill or money or because she was drunk. But not knowing is the hard part. And I'm not so sure she's going to shed any light on the situation. Last I heard brother Dan sent a rather pointed email her way giving her the heads up that she is celebrity status this week in Philly, a city that she no longer resides in. I guess I'll never look at porn again and hope that I recognize the participants. I'll just look at the porn for porn's sake.

Good Old Fashion Ramblings

Heidi Klum got engaged to Seal. Holy shit. That so makes me feel less hopeless than I felt five minutes ago. Seal gets the girl. You go Seal. Fuck those naysayers who think those facial scars of yours make you less of a man. You got pipes, and probably a killer personality....just like someone I know. Maybe this means I should start thinking about who I'm gonna get to say yes one day. Well let's not get nuts.

Ever watch Design on a Dime? It's on HGTV. I find myself watching a lot of HGTV for some reason. It's funny because I don't own a house nor do I plan on ever owning one, but I love remodeling and interior design shit. Anyway, there is a chick that hosts one of the versions of Design on a Dime that I'm just smitten with. Kristan Cunningham I want to have your baby bitch.

That chick on Growing up Gotti is a tranny. I'm serious. It's fucking nasty having to watch her and those fucking gumba kids being all "thug." That show can go.

Who else watches Project Runway besides me? I'm such a fucking loser. Bravo has the worst fucking excuses for reality shows, i.e. Blown Dry or Queer Eye, yet I keep watching their shit.

I watched Who's Your Daddy on FOX last night. It was awful, but not in the exploitative way that I thought it would be. It was so synthetic. The chick looking for her Daddy was a Playmate who wants to be an actress and it just seemed like she was playing to the camera...as if she didn't even care about finding her real Dad. Her objectives were like Money, Fame and Dad in that order and like I always say when I defend the garbage that FOX comes up with, you can't have shit like that without some idiot who is willing to do it. There ain't no midget bachelor without a willing midget. You dig?

Is that Ozzy singing the theme song to Dog The Bounty Hunter on A&E? Oh my.

In the past 2 weeks I have gotten three amazing presents from three amazing chicks that work with me. Syd got me Garden State on DVD, the 2nd best movie of 2004. (Eternal Sunshine is 1) Kate got me Almost Blue by Elvis Costello, an amazing double disc of the Costello Country era. Robin impressed me with her musical palatte and got me the latest Wilco offering and continues to bring up music in emails that I would never think that she would like, and I love it. All of these gals are awesome. Sincerely.

And finally this evening, I think I found a place to live. A good friend has a room to let in her 2 bedroom house and since house hunting has slowed down and perhaps ended, I need to move into crisis mode as February 1 looms. Brother Mike will be sad to see me "drop" out as they say, but I think he'd rather not have a border when he's renting. It was always about helping my brother pay his mortgage...and if there's no mortgage, it's best I step aside and allow him to find a nice house he can rent. He needs to live like a family again. So yeah, assuming this all goes down, I'll be shacking up down the street in Manayunk still. I'm excited to begin anew and sad to see it end all at once.

Chinese Movies and Target, A Deadly Combo

Went and saw House of Flying Daggers today at the local mulitplex. Been burning through those movie passes from XMAS. I honestly think I may have finally had my fill of these Crouching Tiger wannabes. This one was weak. Soap Opera love story, not enough action and some really drawn out scenes that you just wanted to see end already. Like most of these new breed Chinese movies, the action when it did occur was visually stunning. But not as much as it was when Crouching Tiger first came out. It's become kind of expected, the flying over trees nonsense. I loved the colors and the sound editing was amazing, but I'm giving this one a C. I should have seen A Very Long Engagement instead.

Target was insane. Looks like everyone is out getting those containers to put away the XMAS decorations for next year. I was there to get containers for my eminent move and some odds and ends. Target is a store that you could literally get lost in. I start to get all dazed and overwhelmed. I enventually make it to the check out line and it's almost like a mystery when I'm pulling out of my cart. Did I need a water bottle? It was a dollar. Did I really buy 1 jar of pasta sauce? Yes I did. I'm a clown.

Got my car washed finally. Been about 4 months since that happened. I couldn't see out the windshield, so it was time. Didn't get my hair cut which was tops on the list today. I'm wolfing hard. Gotta get bladed tomorrow. First thing.

Code 46

The first movie I watched in 2005 was the spooky sci-fi romance Code 46 with Tim Robbins and the lovely Samantha Morton. The film was ambitious, but failed to deliver like I think it could have. Set in the near future, the film deals with Code 46, a law that forbids sex between people who due to cloning share either partial or full DNA similiarities. Interesting. Add in some exotic locales like Shanghi, Dubai and dialogue peppered with french, spanish and arabic (I'm assuming to show that in the future language has become global) and you have quite an undertaking for a guy like director Michael Winterbottom. (24 Hour Party People) In any case, Mike is up for the challenge, but I think the script is too thin. There isn't enough to chew on. I wasn't as bothered by the lack of chemistry between Robbins and Morton like some critics were, but I do think watching Tim Robbins make love to not only Morton, but another actress as well, is kind of creepy. Not as creepy as fucking Susan Sarandon I suppose.

The visuals are awesome and the final shots of the dessert set to Coldplay are really stunning. But I wanted more. It was like a light version of Eternal Sunshine, a movie that deals with memory erasing from a different angle. Oh wait, I left out the memory erasing element of Code 46. So apparently if you violate the code and bang someone who shares your DNA, they whisk you off and erase your memory of the event. And abort your fetus should your liaison lead to procreation status. Like I said, spooky. If you did sci-fi themes and don't mind slower moving pictures a la Solaris, then rent this shit. I ain't saying I'm sorry I watched, I'm just saying I won't be watching it again.

New Year....New Attitude?

Later 2004. It was nice knowing you, but I can't say I'll miss you. Well that's not entirely true. 2004 was an odd year in my life. I spent half of it as a stock broker and half of it working in women's fashion. Both had an effect on my life and I'm happy to be where I am right now. 2004 was the year I rebounded from being unemployed for most of 2003. I'm not sure that I grew up any this past year, but I'm finally comfortable with my job.

I spent all of 2004 smoke and fast food free, so that kind of ruled. I am not usually a very strong minded person, so this was quite a feat for me. I would like to think that 2005 is the year I finally focus on my weight loss, but I'm thinking that at 33 it's not going to be easy. And I'm kind of okay being the fat guy. Sometimes it sucks, but I'm pretty comfortable with who I am. I have a dazzling personality, so it all balances out. Bottom line is that I would rather be funny and honest then be a skinny bore.

Last night I capped off the year with all of my roommates while we celebrated both the New Year and my friend Noele's 21st birthday. A rather small affair, considering that Noele's so called "friends" blew her off to go to a place called the Nutty Irishman (I mean SERIOUSLY). But party we did. Click this post to see the photos...apologies for the red eye.

In addition to the usual drunken shenanigans I did what any normal drunk would do and made up with someone that I had been fueding with for quite a while in between shots of vodka and sips of champange. What is it about New Year's Eve that makes everyone get so nice? I'm not saying I regret my decision to kiss and make up, but I honestly didn't see it coming. I was planning on being an obnoxious asshole towards this person the entire evening and before I know it I'm hugging her and apologizing and hoping that we can just go back to normal. Fucking booze. The way I figure it, life's too short to be fucking mad at people all the time. So maybe this is my new year's resolution, be more tolerant of people's actions.

Today I've been a puking mess and I can't say that I'm bothered by it. I have nothing to do and no desire to do anything anyway. I'm relaxing before I fully embrace 2005 and all that it has to offer. I hope you all had a wonderful celebration last night and that 2005 brings you much luck, love and happiness.