bus pass elitism

i used to be anti-bus pass. it was easy to be anti-bus pass because i never took the bus enough times in a month for it to be worth it. in my head i figured bus passes were for people who didn't want to put forth the effort it takes to make sure they had exact change at all times. to me it didn't seem like such a large task. if i found myself stuck with a 5, 10, or 20, i'd go buy a coffee and that would be a double bonus for me. i now have a cup of coffee AND exact change for the bus.

i got by like this and it never bothered me much. that was until my job decided to move locations. suddenly i found myself traveling a lot farther to get to work with a lot less access to rides from friends or walking instead of busing. i would need to take two buses back and forth, four bus rides total per day. after doing the math, the bus pass suddenly made sense. and just like that i found myself purchasing, carrying, and flashing my bus pass.

suddenly many of my views and opinions on bus riding were changing. it had turned me into an elitist of sorts.

it dawned on me that it actually was somewhat a pain in the ass to make sure i always had exact change. i was always walking around with a ton of change shaking in my pockets. i'd hate to be caught without exact change and i definitely didn't wanna be the guy who gets on the bus and asks loudly to all the passengers, 'DOES ANYONE HAVE CHANGE FOR A 5?" whenever this happens, i'm usually trying to concentrate on a book i'm reading. suddenly i have to pay attention to some dude or chick who's not gonna be able to get to where they need to go unless someone helps them out and gives them change. i always wanted to help them, and sometimes i did. but i'd definitely give all the other passengers on the bus a chance to beat me to it. as a bus rider who pays cash, giving someone five of your singles for one five dollar bill will in someway come back to haunt you when you find yourself needing exact change on a bus and now you're the one stuck with a five dollar bill.

another change i noticed is now there is a part of me that wants everyone paying cash to get behind me. i don't demand this and i don't try to be a douche and jump in front of anyone. but there is a part of me that feels like it's such a waste for me to wait while passengers paying with cash get on. the transactions take longer. sometimes they need change (when i get on a bus that actually gives change). when i get on the bus, i flash the pass and keep on walking. it's a fluid motion that can be taken care of without slowing the pace of my walking as i get on. if we all could agree to let the bus pass holders go first, it wouldn't take us very long to get on the bus. cash payers would wait a whole lot less than i end up waiting for cash payers who go before me.

in closing, now that i have a bus pass, i think it's time for everyone else to get the bus pass as well. none of us will have to wait in line, none of us will have to worry about exact change. it'll be a smoother, happier bus riding experience for all.

or maybe i just need to snap out of my sudden fit of elitism.

Greg Giraldo - forever awesome

i was bummed to hear that one of my favorite comics died this past wednesday, greg giraldo. it was a shocker to me and i'm sure many others cuz he was only 44. he was still touring, still active, and had just released a comedy central special within the past year.

when i first learned of giraldo, it was completely accidental. my friend marylee offered to burn me a mike birbiglia album on cd (2 drink mike). when she brought me a copy of that cd, she also had burned me a copy of greg giraldo's "good day to cross a river." i listened to both and what marylee had accomplished was burning me copies of what is now 2 of my favorite stand up albums of all time.

"good day to cross a river" is such an enjoyable, hilarious, kick ass comedy album. it's smart and hilarious, brave and honest. as i watched and listened to more giraldo throughout the years after that, i learned that this was just the type of comic he was, and i was a huge fan.

there's a few comics who have inspired me heavily to give stand up comedy a try of my own. greg giraldo ranks high amongst that list.

i was looking forward to many more years of greg giraldo. unfortunately nothing's ever promised..... anyone can go at any time... that's just a shitty fact of existence.

but i'm glad that giraldo came into our existence. there was a time in my life when i thought intelligent stand up comedy died with bill hicks. but giraldo was proof that wasn't true. intelligent comedy was alive and well and giraldo was one of the torch holders. he's one of the most brilliant comics of our time, if not, all time.

later greg. thanks for the laughs.

The Naked Lunch Challenge

I just finished reading 'Naked Lunch' by William S. Burroughs. It was a book I had borrowed from a friend years ago. But I couldn't finish it. All I read was garbled up madness that I could make no sense of. I got somewhere in the 60's on the page count and threw in the towel. I told my friend I couldn't finish it and she said I could hang on to it. She said she couldn't finish either. Wow, so it wasn't just me.

That was years ago, probably at least 2-3. At the time of borrowing it, I wasn't that avid of a reader. I had just started really getting into reading. I saw the book on my bookshelf and figured that maybe at the time of reading that book, I was jumping in the deep end too soon. I was also out of books to read. So I challenged myself to read it and get through it.

I can confidently say that I still don't get 'Naked Lunch.' It makes no sense to me. I got through it but sometimes I felt like I was spiting myself. The book went on and on and, except for moments here and there, I never really enjoyed the content.

However, I do dig it's lack of form. The book doesn't follow the rules. It reads probably just like what it actually is. It reads like a free wheeling, stream of consciousness description of the creations of the imagination of a man who's been consumed by the most hard core of drugs.

The book is also viciously filthy. Which is why I think it's such a landmark book. It's contents caused such a stir that it was taken to court and put on trial. This book helped tear down walls and took part in a fight to ensure that our freedom of speech also existed in literature and art. For that, I commend it's filthiness and how it contributed to our society overall.

After all this writing, I still feel like I've done 'Naked Lunch' no justice. It's an experience and the only way you'll know about it is to do it! If you haven't read 'Naked Lunch,' step up! Take the challenge! Tell me all about it at the end of your trip.

And if you have read it, I'd love to hear what you have to say about it. This book is divisive. There's only two types of people in the world, those who have read 'Naked Lunch' and those who haven't. I definitely want to hear what other people have to say.

A Rosey Ending to My Previous Blog (The Sky is Falling.....)

When I woke up from my slumber on that same day my bathroom ceiling was repaired, I was experiencing feelings of relief and relaxation. I finally felt for the first time since the ceiling had fallen that I could chill out, relax, and do some nothing for a while. Time went by till about 8:30pm. That's when I realized that I needed a new shower curtain since I had thrown my old one out (it was completely filthy from the debris falling around it).

I figured this was no big deal. I'd hit the CVS around the corner from me and I'd pick one up. Get in, get out, it should take me less than 20 minutes in total. That wasn't the case once I actually got to CVS. They were reorganizing the whole store and moving aisles around. The place was a mess. It was totally disorganized and there were entire sections of shelves with no products on them. I walked around aimlessly for 15 minutes in denial that I couldn't find a shower curtain. Once I finally accepted that there weren't any to be found anywhere in the store, I decided to move my search elsewhere.

I hit Bergenline Ave, a main avenue in my town with tons of stores along it. I had to take a short bus ride to get to the heart of it. I got off the bus only to find store after store had closed at 8pm. Any place that I thought would possibly have a shower curtain for sale was dark inside with locked doors. I was starting to feel deflated. How would I go about showering without a curtain? That would be madness!

I decided to make one last ditch effort and hit a Walgreen's I knew of. It was about a 10 minute walk to get there. When I started to approach the entrance, I noticed my brother and his wife, Alli walking out of the same Walgreen's. I screamed my brother's name out.

"YO PHIL!"

From there we conversed and I filled him in on my search for a shower curtain and it's tragic results so far. That's when Alli said she had an extra shower curtain at home she could give me. Awesome! She said it was very bright with flowers on it. I was in no position to be picky, only thankful that my search took an odd twist to lead me to a very convenient ending.

We drove to their house, picked up the curtain, and then they drove me home. I went to my bathroom to hang up the new curtain. Once it was up, I stepped back and took it in. As bright and flowery as it was, I was simply happy to see my bathroom looking like an authentic bathroom again. In fact, the flowers and bright colors really light up the place.

So that's it.... that's my rosey, colorful, flowery ending to this whole story.

Thanks for the shower curtain! It really ties the bathroom together.

the sky is falling (in my bathroom)

It had been an awesome Saturday. It started with a free tour of a local brewery (NJ Beer Company). Then I met one of my best friend's new born daughter. After that it was on to an all you can eat sushi / Japanese food buffet. the night ended with 3 games of bowling at Bowl Rite lanes in Union City. It was a full, fun filled day with my girlfriend and a few friends that left me fully exhausted by the end of it.

The night ended with me knocking out watching TV at home. My girlfriend had knocked out in the bedroom. We gotten in around 2am and started our slumber somewhere around 3am. All was good until about 5am. I was in a deep sleep when all of the sudden I was rudely woken up by loud crashing noises in my apartment. I didn't know what it was that just woke me up. But i bounced up and off the couch scared that something terrible just happened. I ran to my bedroom screaming, asking if my girlfriend was alright in there. I ran in and she was fine. She had also been woken up by the loud crashing. We briefly shared a, "what the fuck was that," moment and then I continued to search for the source of the crashing.

It didn't take me long to find the cause. I opened the door to my bathroom. I tried opening it all the way, but something prevented me from doing so and the door was stopped at the half way point. I turned on the light and was horrified by what I saw. About a third of my bathroom ceiling had collapsed and fallen to the ground. My entire bathroom was covered in chunks of ceiling. My bathroom and sink were filled with chunks of building innards. I could hardly see the bathroom floor that was buried under the debris. The only clear spot seemed to be the part of the floor I had just pushed back as I was opening the door.

My girlfriend and I stood there in shock and assessed the totality of the destruction. After a few moments I started grabbing at bathroom amenities that were covered with a layer of ceiling junk; the toothpaste, the soap, the mouthwash, the clock radio I use to listen to music while I shower. I heard a buzzing sound that was driving me crazy. I was frazzled and paranoid that the buzzing was coming from my toilet. I was scared the debris landing on the toilet somehow broke my toilet. I was relieved when I realized it was my pulse toothbrush that had been turned on somehow during its fall to the ground.

It was 5am and I figured at this point in the day, there was no one to call and nothing to do to fix this situation. I decided we'd try and snooze for a bit and wake up at 8am and make some phone calls. Sleeping wasn't easy at first. I was shaken by the whole turn of events. But in reflection, I was glad that neither my girlfriend or I were in there when it all happened. If one of us had been showering at the moment it happened, we would've surely been hit by pieces of ceiling as they fell from the sky.

We slept for about 3 hours. The whole time I was dreaming about what had just happened. I had dreams of me calling my super in the morning. I had dreams of what would be done about it. In one dream, things weren't going so smoothly and it was taking multiple days for my super to fix everything in there. I woke up and went back to sleep 4 times, each time I was unable to reset my brain. No matter what, my brain was consumed by my bathroom that looked like a war zone.

(I try not to use the term 'war zone' lightly. That was my first thought when I first flipped my bathroom light switch on. It looked like North Bergen, NJ had just suffered a bombing of some sort. I took a video on my cell phone of the damage. It's only about a minute long. CNN could take the footage and splice it seamlessly with other stock footage they show whenever they're reporting on an area that recently suffered a missile attack of some sort. No one would be the wiser.)

I woke up at 8am as planned and called the building's owner. No answer. Called the super. No answer. I left the super a voicemail and tried to call the owner one more time. As the owner's phone was ringing, the super was calling me back. I answered and explained to him what had happened. That in itself is no easy feat. English is my super's second language, and he's not all that fluent in it. I've called him for little things here and there before and each time communicating what was wrong over the phone was always a challenge of some sort. He also has a reputation of saying he'll show up and then never does. You have to call him a few times to get his assistance. This was an emergency though. I had to communicate the fact that this was urgent. This couldn't wait. I can't shower till this is fixed. This can't be ignored for three days.

I had successfully communicated the urgency. It took a couple of hours but one of the super's maintenance people showed up at the door. He rang the bell 5 times in a row at about 10:30am. I was relieved to know that the recovery was officially under way.

I let him in and he asked, "What's the problem? Is it a leak or something?"

I told him, "It's a lot more than a leak. I can't explain, but you'll see."

A few seconds later he was shocked to see the damage. I wonder if the term 'war zone' came to mind when he saw my disheveled, unusable bathroom. He took a look at the damage and told me that nothing could be done till tomorrow. He said he'd show up with a couple other guys first thing in the morning. I accepted the fact that nothing could be done sooner. He left and the clock started ticking. I wouldn't have a fully functioning bathroom for at least another 24 hours.

My girlfriend and I had considered cleaning the piles of debris and chunks of ceiling. But we quickly changed our minds and decided against it. I was pretty pissed. I know it's not my super's fault the ceiling collapsed. But the building I live in is old and falling apart. Since I've been here, the owner has never made any attempt to keep the place in good shape. It's his building and his investment. If his ceiling is going to collapse on me at 5am on a Sunday morning, I wanted no part in the clean up process.

Sunday went by much like any other Sunday, except I felt dirty. Otherwise it was all standard procedure for the weekend. I watched football. I drank beer. I ordered Italian. My brother came by for a while to hang out. The Jets kicked the Patriots asses.

I decided that I was going to call out from work the next day. I didn't want to go to work without showering for 2 days. I'd rather hang around and make sure my bathroom was attended to as promised.

I was woken up early Monday morning by the doorbell ringing multiple times. As promised, three dudes were here to fix everything up. As soon as they settled in I decided to go to the laundry mat around the corner and do some laundry. I figured it'd beat sitting around the house waiting and watching as three guys fix my bathroom up.

Laundry took about 2 hours. I came back to my apartment and as I was coming in one of the dudes was coming out of my apartment. He told me they were done. I was impressed at how speedy they were. I was scared it'd be an all day process. I went inside to check it out. It was surreal to see my bathroom not covered in ceiling debris. There was my floor and there was the bottom of my tub and sink, not covered in junk. There's my ceiling looking whole and complete.

I decided now was as good a time as any to give my bathroom a good cleaning. I was totally exhausted and spent by the time I finished with that task. I hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since Friday. I had been sleeping in 2 and 3 hour chunks here and there. I knocked out and caught some of the greatest sleep ever. I woke up feeling fully refreshed and ready to blog about the whole ordeal.

It's now about 6:37pm on Monday. I still haven't showered. I'm letting everything in my bathroom fully dry and set into place. I know that steam and humidity from showering could have a negative effect if it's too soon after my new ceiling had been put into place. I patiently wait for tomorrow when I wake up to get ready for work. I'll probably wake up a little earlier than usual. One of the greatest showers of my life awaits me.

Now that it seems this whole experience is behind me, I find myself suffering from a slight phobia of my ceiling falling again. In fact, it might be a while before I ever fully trust a ceiling anywhere to do its job and stay up above me. I might never shower or brush my teeth the same way again. I'll always have an emergency, "Duck and Take Cover With My Hands Over My Head," plan ready to go at any moment just in case a ceiling decides to give up on me again.

Death Row Rewrite

Tomorrow you'll wake up to the good news. The papers, the man on the TV, the articles on the web, they'll all proclaim that good has once again triumphed over evil. That justice has been served and a bad guy got what was coming to him, what he deserved, what he earned. Tomorrow you will all feel a little bit better knowing that a tiny percentage of evil on this planet has been vanquished forever. And I don't blame you. Who wouldn't take comfort in that?

They asked me what I wanted for my last meal. I had oddly had this planned out for most of my life. Just one of those odd things you think about when your mind goes astray and there's nothing else to occupy it. I didn't ever want to kill anybody. But I did like the idea of a meal where I could get whatever I wanted, my perfect meal. I wanted a Thanksgiving feast, but with no turkey. I wanted the sides. I wanted the mashed potatoes, the stuffing, the corn, the yams, the biscuits, the cranberry sauce. I wanted a slice of pumpkin pie. But what I really wanted most of all was to replace the turkey. Get the turkey out of there. The turkey was the centerpiece of Thanksgiving dinners my whole life and I never understood why. It’s such a boring meat. This time I would have my say. This time I’d have it my way. I’d stick a thumb in the eye of all convention and they would listen. I wanted pizza. I wanted real pizza, like the kind you get in Jersey. And I wanted it smothered with pepperoni.

I read tons of books. I’d read through books at a hectic pace just hoping the bad guys won in the end. Those sorts of books are few and far between. But every now and again I’d come across one. When I didn't, I’d write my own alternative ending after completing a book. I’d kill the good guys, the good family, the good kids, the good friends. I’d burn the good neighborhood, the good church, the good ‘mom and pop’ fruit market. The gangsters would outlive the cops who chased them. The dragons would smite the knights that challenged them. There was no cure for the disease. The miracle medicine that shows up in the last few pages would only make things worse. All the prayers, the leaps of faith, the hard work and dedication would always go to waste.

Some people would label that sort of literature as tragedy. And that's what I was. My whole being was a tragedy. The only thing that ever made me feel better about myself was to cause more tragedy. I was infected and it was too late for me. All I could ever do was spread the disease. Rehabilitation was out of the question. This was my joy. This was my hobby. This was my craft. And I loved every moment of writing when I was destroying all that was good and pure and just.

There is no justice. It’s all a farce, a theatrical production. It’s all built to construct happy endings that inspire joyous standing ovations for an audience of innocent victims. Well done judges, jury, lawyers, officers, witnesses. Well done to all the actors who play a part. We really won them over this time. They’re throwing us roses. The critics are in speechless awe. We did it again.

I’m a common drunk. I haven't had a drink in years. But if I came into this place a drunk, then I will leave this place a drunk. Years of not drinking cannot take that title away from me. It doesn’t seem like much. But when I look back, it was perfect. My life was exactly what I wanted it to be. Go to work just like anyone else. I’d carry luggage for tourists. I’d hustle for extra tip money. All day I’d think about getting out after work and blowing off some steam. Most nights I ended up at Stan's Corner. Shoot a game of pool. Play some songs on the jukebox. Drink a few beers. Shoot the shit with my buddies. I'd do this more nights than I wouldn't. It was simple and it was filled with good times…

…plenty of good times, until that one night. I left Stan's after closing, around 3am. I was mad about some pool games I lost to Billy. I had gotten cocky and let the betting get out of hand. He let me double or nothing twice. He beat me all 3 times, right in a row. I lost $450 that night. I don't know what i was thinking. That second match didn't seem like such a bad idea. After i lost that one, I figured I’d come so close the first two games, that I was due to win that third match. But I didn't. I lost. I spent the rest of the night noticeably angry. But I continued to hang around and attempted to drink my sorrows away. That only made me feel worse about the whole thing.

When I left for the night, I got in my car to drive home. That’s when I made the worst decision of my life.

I woke up the next day to my door bell ringing over and over and loud knocking at my front door. I got up but was dazed and slightly hung over from the night before. I quickly threw a shirt on and ran to the door.

Minutes later I’m in a precinct being questioned by two cops in a dark room with a two way mirror, just like you see in the movies. Officer Diaz and Officer Grant would go on to tell me how I got in my car and drove to the Ramada downtown, my place of employment. I parked in the lot and waited for my victim to come out. As soon as I saw him come outside by himself, I got out of my car and stalked him as he walked the local streets for a late night stroll. When I saw the right opportunity, I attacked him from behind. I dragged him into an alleyway and beat him brutally. I knocked him to the floor and in a fit of rage slammed his head face first into the ground repeatedly. I stole his wallet and left him for dead on the ground.

The body was discovered early in the morning and that is when the cops were called. With no identification, they had no way of knowing for sure if he was staying at the Ramada. But he seemed out of place so on a hunch they checked with the hotel staff. They had to take pictures of him, with his face looking like processed meat, and bring it to the hotel to see if any of the employees could identify him. Sure enough, they did. Surveillance camera video was confiscated. That’s where they saw my car pulling in and pulling out. That’s where they saw me follow him until we both walked out of the camera's view.

They ran the license plate number and sure enough found out my identity. They questioned employees at the hotel about me. Inevitably questions were asked about what I do after work. Someone mentioned Sam’s. The rumor mill at Sam’s was in full swing by the time a cop walked in there around 10am. The morning patrons had heard all about my financial loss from the night before and how angry and drunk I was. They were all too willing to talk about it. I never liked the day time crowd at Stan’s.

I sat through interrogation and tried to play it cool. I played the denial game and remained as silent as possible. I let the officers go on and on, waiting for their exhaustion. Finally I felt a lull in the room. I asked for my one phone call.

I called the Ramada front desk. The operator, Cheryl, picks up.

"Ramada Inn, how can we help you today?"

"Put me through to room 520 please."

"Will do! Please hold."

A woman picks up, "Hello?"

"Mia! I'm so glad you picked up. I need your help really, really bad. I’m in a jam. The worst jam of my life. You wouldn't even believe it. But I need you to come down to the local precinct and tell everyone here what I was doing, what we were doing, in your room last night."

"You've got to be kidding me! I can't do that! If my husband finds out, forget about it! He’ll kill me!"

"Kill you?! They’re really going to kill me here! Listen, they think I killed someone last night. And if you don't set the record straight, I’m fucked! Super fucked! Like going to jail for life, or death penalty fucked! Do you understand?!" I was practically on the brink of tears.

She turned cold on me, "who is this? I don’t know you. Stop harassing me! I’m hanging up now!!”

"Mia, c'mon!! You’re being unreason----,"

She hung up on me. My one phone call was finished. I went back and held my head down in shame.

Turns out calling Mia would be the second worst mistake I made in that 24 hour period. That phone call sent her flying. She disappeared leaving behind no traces of her existence. For all I know, her name wasn’t even Mia.

I tried to explain what really happened. It was of little to no use. With Mia no where to be found and with no way to prove she exists, there was no way to prove or even persuade anyone that it was a huge coincidence that I was walking in the same direction as the victim in the same camera frame. It was too hard for anyone to believe that on that same night this poor man was brutally murdered, I was conveniently in the same hotel he was staying at enjoying a random sexual encounter.

The police mocked me. The papers called me a liar. Even my public defender doubted my story and constantly questioned my honesty.

But the hardest part of it all was dealing with my mother. She was the only one who believed me and it hurt me to even see her, never mind talk to her. My mother’s trips to visit me filled me with sadness and pain. I wanted to be happy to see my mother. But I couldn’t stand her tears. I couldn’t stand to watch her break down in front of me. Here I was waiting for my execution, and I had to be the strong one.

As bad as those visits were, nothing crushed me more than when those visits were done and I would watch my mom walk away. Even if those visits were only filled with tears and pain, it was the only real human connection I had left. I love my mother and it was the only time for the last part of my life I felt anything good at all.

It broke my heart to know that my final memories of my mother would be her stuck in a state of permanent sadness. I knew that once I was gone, a part of her would be gone forever as well.

The trial was a circus. I was guilty before I walked through the door in my orange jumpsuit and chains on day one. The evidence and public outrage against me had piled too high. There was no way the jury would budge. I sat in my chair next to my two bit public defender watching as my whole life was destroyed for a couple hours of passion.

And so I’ve waited in this cold, lonely place. I’ve waited as my date with doom approached closer and closer. The day I’d find myself in that cold chair in front of an audience, anxiously anticipating the moment when the medicine will run through my veins to forever take me away, making the world a better place for all.

"Do you have any last words?"

"Yes.

Today an innocent man will die before your eyes. I did not kill that man. Somewhere out in the world his killer or killers remain at large. The guilty party remains free to roam the streets and live their lives while I’ve rotted here for years in my innocence. But maybe I’m not totally innocent. I am guilty. Guilty I had sex with Mia. Guilty that I enjoyed it. Guilty that I preyed upon a seductress who would rather see me die than to plainly admit to our lustful sins. Who can blame her? It’s so much easier to deny her crime against her husband then to do the right thing. Mia, you got your way. You got out of this easy.

To the family and friends of the victim, I apologize. I apologize that the world is cruel enough to create the kind of evil that did what it did that night. Rest assured I’d have sex with all the married women of the world before I’d kill an innocent human being. But in your minds and hearts I’m guilty. There’s nothing I can say in my final moments that will persuade you otherwise. I hope they find the real killer. But they probably won't. As soon as I’m dead, a victory will be claimed. You will all go on with a certain peace in your hearts that justice has been served and evil has been dealt with. My last breaths will bring you closure.

But in a way you are all the same as Mia. You all had sex with me, but in your own special way. You got off on me while my life went to shambles for no good reason. And just like Mia, you're taking the easy way out. After I’m gone, I’m still innocent. There’s only one person in this entire room that knows the truth, and soon I won't be here anymore.

I’m ready. I’m sick of this world. Kill me in all my innocence. It’s the ending I’ve been writing for years."

"there's a line" guy

first impressions are concrete. you can't take them back. whatever you decide to say or do in your first encounter with any other human being can never be unsaid or undone.

that's what happened with "there's a line" guy, a dude i should not even know. a man who should have passed through my life like the thousands of other anonymous run-ins and brush-bys i will have throughout my life.

on the day it all began, i was early for my bus to work, early enough that i could enjoy one of my guilty pleasures in life, breakfast at mcdonald's. their menu is fully stacked for breakfast. a menu that's so great, they can't offer you anything that's on it past 10:30am. on this day i was gonna go all in and eat big. i was gonna go for the deluxe breakfast with hotcakes and a large orange juice.

i walked into the mcdonald's with a purpose. pleasant thoughts of me devouring a tasty breakfast occupied my mind. i was a dude on a mission, ready to chow down and enjoy! as i walk in, i notice there's two cashiers and a slight crowd waiting in line. i hop on what looks like the line to the cashier closest to me. i stood there silently waiting, gathering the details of my order in my head so i would be ready to order quickly and efficiently.

suddenly, coming from behind me, a guy yells in my direction, "hey hey! there's a line!"

i turned around and realized that i had mistakenly cut in front of half the crowd. in a moment of extreme social awkwardness, i was speechless. i stood in my spot to assess the situation, quickly said, "oh," and moved to the proper back of the line.

i could have said something, anything to try and make the situation a little smoother. i could have offered an apology, but i didn't. it just didn't cross my mind in that exact moment. i went totally blank.

(before moving on, i would like to state for the record that i have no qualms with "there's a line" guy. he was right to call me out for cutting in line.

what bothered me was that i didn't say anything in response to him at the time, which made me think that possibly he thought i was just some stooge trying to get one over on everyone in the crowd. that definitely wasn't the case. i'm no cutter. i believe in order, especially when it comes to breakfast.)

so there i was now on the back of the line, feeling a little dumb about the whole situation. i had stalled and waited too long. an explanation at this point in time would sound stupid. i was going to have to let this one go and try to refocus on my deluxe breakfast with hotcakes that i was about to consume.

and that wasn't hard to do. i chowed down my awesome breakfast inside the mcdonald's. i enjoyed the meal thoroughly, all parts of it; the hotcakes, the sausage pattie, the hash browns, the eggs, the large OJ, and my favorite part, the biscuit. feeling refreshed and ready to take on my day, i left and walked towards the bus stop.

when i got to the stop, i noticed "there's a line" guy amongst the waiting commuters. i immediately felt embarrassed and avoided eye contact. i buried my face in a book and leaned on a wall by the bus stop. i figured this moment would pass as soon as we get on our respective buses.

after a few minutes of waiting, my 192 shows up. i pack up my book and head for the bus. about 3 spots in front of me on line is "there's a line" guy. unbelievable!! i have to ride the same bus with this guy too!! i got on the bus and headed hurriedly for the farthest back seat, only to find he took the seat right in front of it. it was too late. i couldn't move back to the front. that would make me look like a fool! so i grabbed the seat right behind him, sat down and buried myself back into my book, waiting for this all to end.

it did eventually. i got to work and the rest of the day went on like it usually does.

then the next day when i went to the bus stop to wait for my bus, i noticed "there's a line" guy amongst the crowd again! i couldn't believe it! i stuck with the same plan as the day before, avoid any direct interaction with him.

this continued for days. i finally accepted the idea that this guy has probably been riding the same bus as me for months. i just never noticed him because we never had any sort of interaction before. he had gone from being invisible and non existent in my world to playing the role of "there's a line" guy.

one little stupid moment. one little stupid first impression. "there's a line" guy is now a part of my daily routine. i never say anything to him. we have nothing to talk about. as far as i know, i'm as invisible to him as he was to me the day before i gave him a name.

......then again, maybe to him i'm "cutting in line" guy.

a follow up to my previous post

SPOILER ALERT!!! SPOILER ALERT!!

if you have not read my previous post, 'my indifference smells awful,' then you probably don't want to read this post any further. it's a quick add on and afterthought to my previous post so go read that one first!

you've been warned!!

i started my day today by running into one of my neighbors who was just standing around outside. i asked her in passing, "can you believe that smell?" that was all i had to say to her to receive the full explanation of what exactly caused last night's horrible odor in my hallway.

she told me that my one neighbor had thrown some unused fish parts away. he put them in with his regular trash and for some odd reason, instead of bringing the garbage outside where it belongs, he put it outside his door inside the hallway to rot for a while. one of my other neighbors smelt the garbage and knocked on his door and asked him to please throw his garbage outside because it was stinking up the whole building.

he brought the garbage outside and the annoyed neighbor cleaned that section of the hallway with lysol, which seemed to do little to help. i can only imagine that horrific smell magnified without the help of lysol.

to tie this all together with a pretty bow on top, the neighbor who was responsible for the smell was the same neighbor i ran into the night before when i got in from work. as i was checking my mail, all he told me was that he opened all the doors and lit incense and a candle because of the awful smell. he decided to leave out the minor detail that he was the culprit behind this smelly offense. so by saving himself a little pride, i was sent away with just the slightest fear that one of my neighbors was dead and rotting away. this officially marks him as a, "he who denied it, supplied it," type of person to the fullest degree.

my indifference smells awful at the moment

i get in from work to find all the entrances to the building are wide open. incense is lit on a table in the hallway on the first floor. it hit me as soon as i walked through the front door. something smelt awful. it was beyond awful. it was putrid, enough to inspire a gag. i ran to get my mail in my mailbox and bumped into one of my neighbors. i asked him what that smell was but he had no idea. he just knew it was awful and putrid as well (he was the one who decided to open all the doors and to light a scented candle and a stick of incense in the hallway).

i get inside and my mind starts to wander. what could that smell be? at best, it could be someones cooking project gone horribly wrong. someone who had messed up a seafood dish so bad that they would refuse to be seen in the daylight by any of their neighbors until that smell went away.

but it was too rancid to be something cooked. it had to be something worse than that.

as i write this, i have no idea what it is. but the worst case scenario in my head is that one of my neighbors is dead, and their body is rotting away.

i usually don't see much of my neighbors. i work odder hours and am more of a night owl than most of the other tenants in this building. if someone hadn't been seen for a few days, a week, a couple of weeks, i'd be the last to figure it out.

just how long does it take for the smell of a rotting corpse to get bad anyways?

there's a slight part of me that thinks i should call someone, i don't know who exactly, maybe the police. but i know i won't do that. this is where my indifference kicks in. i convince myself that i'm just making things up and it's nothing as bad as the rotting corpse of one of my neighbors. there's no way that's the case and if i did call the authorities, they'd show up and think i was crazy. then i'm the crazy dude who no one ever sees during normal hours who called the cops that one time because i thought my neighbor was dead, but it wasn't that at all. it was just rancid fish dinner tuesday in a6.

but what if my neighbor is dead and i decided to do nothing about it? i caught the smell and ignored it so i could watch tv and write this blog in the peace and comfort of my apartment.

if my worst case scenario is true, then i would be the dude who's indifference led to family and/or friends finding out later than they possibly could have. sure, dead is dead, but they'd accuse me of insensitivity. if they read this blog they'd think i'm sick. if in fact someones relative or loved one is dead next door, not only did the thought cross my mind that they might be dead, but i ignored that thought and decided to do nothing about it. i did nothing about poor grandma or aunt so-and-so who makes the awesome peanut butter cookies each year around christmas time.

their loved one would be dead... most likely of natural causes of some sort. and with no killer, nobody to blame, this blog would put me in running to be their bad guy.

but this is all just the paranoid part of my imagination running wild. chances are a dead body is not the cause of that horrible smell.

all i know is something smells awful, and i'm pretty sure it's not my indifference.

growing beards and smoking pot

growing a beard is a lot like smoking pot to me.

every now and then i try to rock a beard. every time i do try to grow one i eventually become frustrated. i always get itchy and end up getting rid of it. while shaving it, i always tell myself, "never again. no more beards."

eventually i forget about all of that... i forget the discomfort, the disappointment, and the vow i made to myself to never try it again. i give it another shot thinking this time around shit's gonna go my way. it doesn't. shave again, and repeat the whole process.

same thing with smoking pot. i don't enjoy smoking pot. i just don't (i don't wanna turn this into a discussion about whether pot's good or bad. if you like pot, awesome... smoke it. i hope they make it legal, cuz although i like booze, i see the obvious hypocrisy in the legalization of one and not the other... and as a matter of personal opinion, i think the world would probably be a better place if people could be openly smoking pot, stoned and mellow... some people need that shit... so smoke up fuckers... and now i will continue with my original thought....).

but every now and then i try it again. someone will pass it to me at a party and i'll think to myself, 'this time, shit's gonna go my way.' but it's always the same thing, i smoke it, i get high, i think it sucks. i wait for the effects to wear off... the whole time telling myself never again cuz every time i try it again, this is what happens.

i know this blog may seem like a 'vow' of some sort to stay away from beards and pot... it's not. it's more of a commentary on how i think beards and pot are similar......or really, it's just a pointless, random rambling.

either way, hope you enjoyed.

don't worry bearded pot heads... i still got love for you... unless you're a woman, that's just gross.

i did it, i dumped verizon

about 11 or 12 years ago my parents bought me my first cell phone for x-mas. it was way back before smart phones and color screens. i was psyched. i remember reading my new phone number and memorizing it instantly (it was an easy number.... 2014240606, that number's gone now, so feel free to prank call the next dude who gets issued that number).

the phone was put under my stepfather's name cuz i didn't have credit. i was dealt the immense responsibility to keep current with the payments cuz if i didn't, i'd be messing things up in his name... not my own.

i kept this number and this contract, under my step dad's name, for years... up until this month actually. sure i could've changed the name on the phone, but i'm lazy... very lazy. so i never did. i just went with the flow and ended up 30 and still using a cell phone under my step dad's name.

throughout the years and several phones i had through verizon, i could never complain about the reception. verizon always had great reception and they knew it. they used that as an excuse to never cut me any slack. throughout my 12 years as a loyal verizon customer, the only special offers i ever received were discounts on new phones every 2 years.. but i'd only receive the discount if i renewed a contract with them for another 2 years.

as the years went by, the plans verizon had to offer for the extensions got more expensive. what had started out as a $40 a month commitment back in the day was now averaging somewhere in the mid $80 area. i had let verizon nickel and dime me the whole way... just accepting it, figuring that's how things are. if you want the phone with the good reception, you gotta be willing to pay the price.

and throughout the years, anytime i'd log into the verizon wireless website, i'd see awesome deals for the hottest new phones for new customers. NEW customers.... here i was, 10+ years in the game, never seeing these sorta prices offered to me... even when they offered discounted phones every 2 years.

sometimes i'd try to act tough and call customer service to try and get a cheaper price. each time i tried, they'd offer me cheaper plans. but the cheaper plans always sucked. it was always for a ridiculously low amount of texts and minutes that i'd definitely go over. so i went on, paying the high prices, accepting it as fate.

this year things started changing. metro pcs's stared popping up everywhere. they started offering $40/month, unlimited text and call plans with no contracts. i figured that was because the reception sucked. but one day i was hanging with a buddy of mine and we went to a metro pcs store to check it out... he needed a new phone. he bought one and went with their plan. i checked in with him periodically to see how the reception was, and he'd always reply that it was good.

this opened my eyes. i started seeing other hard to believe plans from other carriers. i started to feel like a big sucker for sticking it out with verizon. i was comparing the whole thing in my head to someone who sticks around in an abusive relationship and says, 'things will change, it'll get better. i won't always get fucked over.' meanwhile i had to sit in jealousy and watch all my friends find themselves in new, healthy cell phone relationships that made them happy and saved them money.

it was around this time that one day i woke up and my cell phone wouldn't turn on. it had shut off and it wouldn't come back on. i messed with it all day trying to get it to work, but to no avail. i had a broken phone. i took this as a sign.

i took a few days off from owning a cell phone (i highly reccomend the few day long cell phone break. it's nice to get off the grids and not be easy to find sometimes). gave myself time to think about it. googled other plans. then on the way home from work one day i noticed a new virgin mobile store around the corner just about to open its doors for business. i took that as another sign and checked out their website....

BOOM!!! $25 a month, unlimited text, data, and 300 minutes talk time (i don't think i've ever gone over 300 minutes in a month, i'm way more of a texter). i immediately felt like this was the start of something good. i checked out their phones online. they had a rogue touch for $150. it had internet and a touchscreen. shit i've never owned before in a cell phone. i was sold.

so a few days later i went to a local radioshack that sold virgin mobile... got the phone, got the plan... that was about a week ago... and i'm happy. way happier than i was with that wicked bitch verizon.

the kicker is that i had to pay an early termination fee to get out from verizon's evil grasp. $95... well spent. almost like they say in the movie, 'a bronx tale,' forget it, it cost me $95 to never have to deal with them again. with the $25 a month price tag for virgin mobile, it'd all pay off in no time anyways.

later verizon. we had some good times. but we were younger then. i grew older and grew apart as you grew larger, more corporate, and more greedy. sure, your reception improved and got better over the years, but you used it as an excuse to treat me bad. you expected me to just stick around and never leave.

well i left. you may find other customers, but me and you are a thing of the past. and i'm better off without you...

josh
+
virgin mobile
4eva
(or until virgin mobile grows larger, more corporate, and more greedy)

reasons why i jumped on the lakers bandwagon

i wanna start this off by declaring that i am a new jersey nets fan first and foremost. however, if my team is not gonna even make it to the playoffs, i enjoy playoff basketball too much not to root for anyone.

you'd think being a nets fan that i'd HATE the lakers since they stood in the nets way of ever winning a championship. and for a couple of years, i hated.

but i got over it.

the catalyst was 2 years ago, the season the celtics beat the lakers in the finals. i started off the season with a fresh belly full of hate for the boston celtics. they had an awful season the year before. but in the offseason, they made monster trades to get kevin garnett AND ray allen on their squad. i was mad. i was mad cuz i'm a nets fan and the celtics are in the same division as the nets. i was also mad cuz it just plainly sucks to watch the celtics go from a suckfest to champions in ONE YEAR!

so it was those finals when i decided to root for the lakers. i also had grown to respect kobe's game. and i felt like he was being overlooked. he no loger had shaq. guys like lebron james and dwayne wade were doing their thing, and mvp awards were going to the likes of nash and nowitski. i thought that in the mainstream, kobe was getting dissed.

unfortunately 2 seasons ago, the lakers lost and the celtics won. and that made me wanna despise the celtics even more.

so here we are two seasons later... celtics make it to the playoffs, but not as the best team in the league or even in the east. they were unexciting and had no buzz....

....until they beat the cavs. not only did they beat the cavs, but lebron looked like a punk towards the end of that series (i'm in no way saying that lebron james is a punk, but towards the end, it just seemed like he wasn't his regular, awesome self).

the celtics then go on to beat the orlando magic. AND i had picked the magic to go all the way this season after their loss to the lakers last year. and all of the sudden here are the celtics, just as awesome as they were 2 seasons ago.

other reasons:

-lebron got the mvp award this season, but kobe played more like an mvp during the playoffs, when it matters most.

-phil jackson. the zen master is awesome. he's probably the best coach of all time.

-the celtics have 3 of the biggest mouths i can't stand in all of sports:

kevin garnett
rasheed wallace
(saved the bet for last) paul pierce

-derek fisher rules:

he's been on every team that kobe's been on that won a ring.

when he was on the jazz, he flew back from nyc (where he was visiting a doctor for his sick daughter) to utah during a game, suited up, and went bonkers and helped his team win.

he took a paycut to go back and play for la because he would be closer to a doctor who specializes in his daughter's illness.

he's clutch.


-how can you not root for the team that jack nicholson roots for?

-how can you root for the team that dane cook roots for?

-the lakers are the true underdogs. the celtics have historically owned the lakers throughout the history of the nba finals. pretty sure the celtics are out of space for championship banners in their arena.

-i'm not rooting for a big baby.

-ron artest needs a ring. no one wants to retire with 'punching a fan' as their only claim to fame.

-the patriots suck and tom brady looks like a douche

-so i can one more time tweet, 'hey shaq, how does kobe's ass taste?'

happy belated birthday to jogging josh

i started jogging around the lake at james j. braddock park a little over a year ago. i don't even remember the exact day, but i know it was sometime over the memorial day weekend. developing a jogging habit was something i thought about a lot. but i was just too fuckin lazy. i'm still too fuckin lazy... but now at least i'm a lazy dude who jogs.

i used to come home from work and go straight to the tv. and that was it. that'd be my night. if it wasn't tv at home, it was out drinking somewhere. i like drinking. i did it a lot... still do actually... though jogging for a year has naturally scaled back some of the drinking. still, i'm no sober saint.

the first time i tried jogging, i couldn't even make it half way around the lake. i walked the rest and went home.

next day i did one lap and it sucked. i was miserable, out of breath, in pain.... just all around shitty.

next day i ran a lap and it sucked a little less.

and then a week later i ran 3 laps. i never had a 2 lap regimen. just went from 1 lap to 3laps. it felt right. and things were starting to click. i was starting to develop a better jogging form and finding myself in less pain.

then one day i ran with liz. and she pushed me to do 4. that was awesome. i was so set on sticking to 3 laps. 4 laps wasn't in my head at all. i was just satisfied to go from lazy couch potato to 3 lap jogger, that 4 laps just didn't exist to me. but on that day, in a moment's notice, at the end of the 3rd lap, liz said, 'c'mon, let's do one more.' and we did.

i stuck to 4 laps for a most of the year. it was only about 2 months ago that i pushed it up to 5 laps, which is what i'm currently running every time i hit the lake now. many days i run at the gym at my job. they have treadmills which are ok, but i prefer running outdoors.

there was a week i spent in buffalo, ny to visit my dad's family. it was about 2 months into my jogging year. i had just made the 4 lap leap. and i was determined not to let a vacation deter me from my new jogging habit. i woke up early every day and ran for 40 minutes around my uncle's neighborhood. it was a very cool week in my jogging year. i don't know the distance i ran exactly, but i got to explore a town i knew nothing about every day while jogging. and when i was done, i'd go back to my uncle's and jump in a pool. to this day, it's one of the biggest thrills of my life... to put my feet to the pavement in the summer sun for 40 minutes with the glory of a cannonball jump into a swimming pool at the end.

over the year, i've ran at least 3 days out of every week. ideally, i'd like to run 5 days out of the week, and most weeks i do that. but sometimes i slack, but no matter what, i always find a way to make time for 3 times out of the week.

it's also a hell of a reliever. any shitty day i find myself in a funk, a good jog around the lake usually gets the funk out of me. at the least, it helps me end the day more at ease.

i don't know where this whole jogging thing will go. i enjoy it a whole lot and i've felt immensely better all around since i've started. i'm not the fastest jogger or the jogger who goes the longest distance... but jogging's a lot like life in general. you gotta find your pace and what you can do and what you feel good about. and right now, i feel pretty damn good!

so happy birthday jogging josh. cya next year.

I saw conan o’brien!

If you don’t know, I’m a huge conan fan! And last night I had tickets to go see his live, ‘legally prohibited from being funny on tv’ tour at radio city music hall. it was awesome from beginning to end! I laughed my ass off surrounded by my fellow team coco brethren! It was a good night, one to definitely be remembered.

He pulled out some old tricks from the late night show that he didn't get to do on the tonight show, like the masturbating bear (which has been renamed to the ‘self-pleasuring panda’ due to legal issues) and the walker texas ranger lever. Conan was wacky, weird, witty, intelligent, self-deprecating, and funny as ever. it was a joy to see him with the leash a little loosened. He was stealing vodka from fans and drinking and cursing on stage (not overly vulgar, but he cursed a little which you’d never see on tv, and he even got the audience to call him a PUSSY in unison).

I’m not gonna go into super specifics of the show. I personally don’t like when people try too hard to describe something that’s inevitably going to end with, ‘I guess you had to be there.’ but it had everything a good show should have… laughs, music, special guests, an insult comic, fan participation and an all around good time!

It left me stoked for conan’s return to tv. His new tbs show will definitely be on the top of my dvr list.

In a selfish way, I’m glad this whole ‘tonight show’ dilemma happened to conan. I never took advantage of seeing his show live when he was in NYC. So as soon as I found out about this show (which wouldn’t have happened if he was still on the tonight show) I had to get tix for it! and I think I probably got a better experience than seeing a tv recording. It was a live performance in a theater, never to be televised. It’s like our own special experience that no one else can get in on.

In closing-
Conan’s the man! I could go on and on about the things that make him awesome. If I lived my life to only be half as awesome as conan o’ brien, I’d consider my life a total success!


ps- if you're interested in what people who were at the show thought- check out twitter and search #oldyolsen

as you came into the theater there were signs posting that stated if you were gonna tweet about the show, to use that hashtag. pretty cool.

i don't wanna be 'ahead of my time'

don't ever tell me i'm 'ahead of my time.'

it's a phrase i hear thrown around, for artists mostly. painters, musicians, writers, and so on die poor, miserable, and unknown only to be celebrated and loved years down the line. what a rip! what good is appreciation and adulation when you're dead?

if someone ever tells me i'm ahead of my time, i'm going to change all my material. all i'll ever write and talk about is how much people in the future suck. so fuck you people of the future that yet to exist! i'm not scared of you! you're all a bunch of no good motherfuckers!! and you can't do anything about it, cuz i'm dead! you can't argue and tell me i'm wrong. i win you bunch of incestuous bastards.

and if you even think of trying to bother me on a ouija board, i will pee on your board from the great beyond.

hats off to NASCAR

I spent a good portion of my life thinking low of NASCAR. I'm not sure if it's the 'yankee' in me who simply don't get it or maybe it's the idea of setting a fair amount of my time to the side to watch cars drive around in circles all day. The only excitement i could ever imagine coming from that would be an accident of some sort... which is an awful thing to sit around and hope for.

and much like country music, i get sick of hearing how it's the most popular thing in the country. they say country music's more popular than rock and roll and NASCAR's more popular than football. even if the facts back it up, i just don't wanna hear it. enjoying either can sometimes seem like such an alien concept to me. my stubbornness takes over and i refuse to accept it.

but i've decided to try and put the hate away. ok, so i don't enjoy it. but i don't gotta piss on everyone else that does. and from here on in i won't.

and if you think about the roots of NASCAR and stock car racing in general, it's hard not to dig the hell out of it, at least for its historical importance.

stock car racing comes from the times of Prohibition. alcohol's illegal so someones gotta supply the illegal juice to the masses. those were bootleggers. bootleggers would tweak their cars so they could drive faster. this would help when they would find themselves being chased by those dastardly, booze-hating, buzz kill cops.

at some point, people decided to have a little fun and race these cars against one another. who's got the faster car? who's better at the artful skill of outrunning the cops?

fast forward many decades. multiply the fans many times over. find advertisers and multiply them many times over and it turns into the major conglomerate that NASCAR happens to be today.

i don't think it's any coincidence that today we see beer companies pour tons of money into advertising with NASCAR to get their names and logos on race cars and uniforms. NASCAR and alcohol couldn't have a closer relationship unless the drivers were allowed to drink while on the job.

hats off to you NASCAR. a sport rich in tradition, built upon the foundation of America's love for booze. God bless America and God bless NASCAR. but most importantly, God bless booze!

why i'll never own a dog

i saw this dude walking his dog yesterday. it was raining a bit, a light drizzle really. the dude's dog does his business... poops on the sidewalk. instead of tending to it, the dog's owner just keeps walking, leaving a big ol' steaming pile of dog poop to melt in the rain.

i wanna say i can see where this dude's coming from, that i can see why he didn't pick the poop up. but i just don't. this dude should not own a dog if he's not ready to play by the rules.

the main reason owning a dog doesn't appeal to me is the maintenance issue. they're so much work. i know this sounds lazy... but i am what i am, and knowing that, i can't deal with no dog.

but the difference between me and this dude is that i at least had the foresight to know that i would end up being just like him. getting lazy, thinking, 'eh, forget it.' especially when it's raining.

and that's just not cool. i know poop sucks. there's no joy in it. but it's part of the sacrifice. if you're not willing to pick up poop off the floor in all sorts of weather and circumstances, then owning a dog is not for you.

the buzzcocks don't seem to be very punk rock these days

old school flyer:















TICKETMASTER INFO FOR A SHOW TOMORROW IN NYC:

Buzzcocks
The Fillmore New York at Irving Plaza, New York, NY
Thu, May 13, 2010 08:00 PM

Section
Description GA
PRICE LEVEL 1
STANDING RM ONLY*NO SEATING! TypeFull Price TicketTicket PriceUS $29.50 x 1 Price Details Convenience ChargeUS $12.00 x 1
SUBTOTALUS $41.50


THAT'S MINUS THE DEAD KENNEDYS!!!
i rest my case.

the 'take a nap' manifesto (join the revolution!)

there's not enough napping anymore in society, and that's a major problem. we live in a world that's always on your back pressuring you to do more and get more accomplished. dig more holes! crunch more numbers! multitask! overtime! go the extra mile! and when you're totally tapped, exhausted, and ready to quit for the sake of your own sanity, go chug down one of them there energy drinks that the market is overflowing with at the moment. a whole section of your local corner store is dedicated to beverages to support your overworked, sleep deprived lifestyle.

and doing more always somehow seems to be the answer. can't pay the bills? get a second job! unforeseen medical expenses? work overtime! don't feel good about your status at the work place? spend every waking hour there busting your hump! and whatever you do, don't ever let your boss(es), teacher(s), superior(s), peers, and significant other(s) ever get the impression that your plate is full. always ask for more! you gotta be the most productive worker bee you can be for the queen of whatever hive you may be in at the moment. it might be work, school, home, etc..... bottom line:

sleep less! do more!

there's something not very comforting about this concept.

take the power back!! JOIN THE REVOLUTION!!! TAKE A NAP!!!

don't think a nap will do the trick? i DARE you to prove me wrong! i dare you to take a nap in the middle of the day and wake up and NOT feel good about it!

TAKE A NAP!! and go home on time, maybe even leave early! forget about the extra mile, get reacquainted with your bed.

some people say, 'i don't need to sleep, i'll sleep when i'm dead.' i say you'll be dead a lot sooner than you think if you don't sleep right. you need sleep. you and everyone else. no one is above this law! NO ONE!!

take a nap and take it easy!! you're in control of shit here!! don't let everyone else set your schedule for you. fuck 'em all over and take a nap.

for any soul who feels overworked, stressed out, or just plain ol' tired.... the fix is there! it's waiting for you!

i envision a future of napping humans. a way more relaxed, easy going humanity. change is possible. the future can be great. it all starts with you.

GO!!! TAKE A NAP... NOW!!!

the customer is always right / 'going cvs'

the customer is always right.

WRONG!!!

that's bs! that's bs of the highest caliber. it's sayings like this that allow customers to think they're entitled to think like this in the first place, which leads them to walk all over those who work in a soul crushing combat zone known as customer service.

this may be just one of many rants i ever do on asshole customers. this one is inspired by one individual in particular... one dude i encountered at a cvs last night who reminded me of all the other assholes who ever made me feel worthless cuz they wanted to sit on their 'i'm the customer' holier than thou pedestal.

i don't know the dude's name. all i can tell you is that he was a chubby, middle-aged asshole who shops around cvs with a small suitcase on wheels. he first grabbed my attention while i was standing in line. he was at the cashier and all of a sudden i hear him say, 'noooooooooo, i'm not mean, i'm assertive!'

ugh... just like that i filed this douche in the a-hole file.

then some dude behind him, another customer, waiting in line, asks a cashier about a big bag of m and m's that were misplaced in a bin that said '75 cents' on it. so he's like, 'is this 75 cents?'

a cashier at a different register says, 'oh no, sorry, someone put that there by mistake.'

out of nowhere mr. assertive decided to butt in on the convo. 'well that's too bad! it's marked 75 cents, so that's what it is! that's the law!'

now i know some people, maybe even most people will say this dude has a point, and he does. but it's not what he's saying that bothers me, but how he presents it. he butted in on someone else's convo just so he could condescend all up on a kid behind a cash register.

and it's how he ended his statement. 'that's the law!'

my imagination ran wild. i wanted to butt in myself... shit, i wanted to be the cashier... but i remained silent. but this is what i wanted to say:

'it's the LAW? oh yeah mr. assertive? is that a fact? why don't you use your assertiveness and go get yourself an officer then. cuz no one's getting these m and m's for 75 cents, not tonight, not on my watch. go get a cop and arrest me for breaking this precious LAW. since you know so much about the law, maybe you should take me to court. go get yourself a lawyer and take me to court for this awful, awful crime. shit! maybe when the case is over, you'll finally get your 75 cent bag of m and m's! then you could say i told you so and i could say congratulations!'

during my wild day dream, the manager eventually came over and sided with the customers. evil prevails again.

i go into this cvs a lot and this is just one small example of the awful verbal abuse i hear cvs employees take on a daily basis. the people that work there are nice people. i know shit ain't perfect when you go into a cvs. but the people that work there are trying their best to stand there for 8 hours with a smile. be a decent human being.... if something ain't right, approach them like human beings... not like they're less than you. and if you insist you must treat them like crap, may you run into the one who goes postal... so postal that they change the term 'going postal' to 'going cvs.'

'oh shit, did you see that??? he just got all cvs on your ass!' i think that has a good ring to it!

aaa (atheist against assholes)

let me start by getting the obvious out of the way.... yeah, i'm an atheist. i don't believe in a god and i don't believe anything special happens after you die. some people will slowly decompose, me personally, if my last will and testament are followed, i'll flow through the breeze as ashes. that's it... no consciousness.... i don't expect it to feel much like anything... but it's probably a whole lot like before you were born.

that being said, i don't consider myself to be a douchebag atheist. i don't wanna scream on a soapbox about it. i don't wanna be the buzzkill at the party that goes to great lengths to disprove the existence of all that is metaphysical or spiritual when everyone else is just there to try and have a good time (i know you know that dude!) i don't want you to join my new, exciting atheist movement, i don't want you to buy my book. anyone who buys a book about atheism is an asshole, and any person who writes a book about it, AND makes money, is a bigger asshole.

there's no book to write. there's not even a main character. yet some of these blowhards go on writing book after book, these several hundred page borefests that explain what it means to not believe in anything... pages, chapters, books, and total libraries dedicated to NOTHING. they're the seinfeld show of the book world, except pretend seinfeld was never funny and took itself way too seriously. yeah i know, pretty awful to even try and imagine.

i don't think i'm better than anyone else. you won't ever hear me say, 'i won't associate with a christian, jew, scientoligist (or whatever relgion you wanna insert here).' i don't think i'm smarter, cooler, or better looking for it.

and i refuse to think that there's some atheist brotherhood. just because you're a fellow atheist don't automatically make you a friend. you get judged just like anyone else.... are you an asshole? then get away from me. are you cool? great, first beer's on me. if my choices for hanging out are a gang of cool christians or a gaggle of asshole atheists, i'll take the cool christians every time. not only are they cooler than you, but their chicks got no attitude, and just in case i'm wrong about this whole atheist thing, it might help to know some people and have some connections in the great beyond.

so there it is, in summation... i'm josh, i like cool people, can't stand assholes. you will not be judged upon your religion. just don't be a douchebag.

the secret to being cool (subtitled: the lesson i still need to learn)

this blog is dedicated to chino loco, a super cool motherfucker.


i'd like to consider myself cool. but when i start to put too much thought into it, i start to question myself, what exactly makes someone cool?

i met a dude recently who digs celine dion. a dude who up till that point i thought was a cool fucker. as soon as i learned about the celine dion thing, my opinion started to change. i wanted to believe that he was joking about it. he didn't seem the type. i had this stereotype about celine fans that for the most part, they're either housewives, gay dudes, or weirdos from europe.

he wasn't kidding. he was serious. he knew his shit about her. he even had video and pics he took at a celion dion concert. this dude was the real deal. my gut reaction was to mock him, mock him heavily. surely there's no greater crime to all that is cool. i mean, it's celine dion.

and then i realized that i was being totally UNcool about the whole situation. i had taken the road of the elitist/hipster. i figured what i was into was way cooler than that and that instantly made me too cool compared to the uncoolness it takes to dig celine dion's music.

but hipsters and elitists are wrong... and so was i. it's alright to like the newest, hippest, most undergroundest band... but only if you really enjoy it. and if you do, awesome. but if you're only in it cuz that's where the cool kids are at, then you're uncool all the way.

everyone wants to mock the poseur. and they should! nothing's worse than a fake. but the second worst thing to be is some douchey elitist who thinks they can look down on someone else cuz they dig something that you think is atrocious (in this case, celine dion).

i was guilty of doing the uncoolest thing. i mocked and judged someone who was perfectly comfortable with being a celine dion fan.

so what's cool? cool is liking what you like, cuz you like it, and being 100% comfortable about it. it's a level of honesty with yourself, and not giving a fuck what anyone thinks about it.

so if you wanna judge celine dion fans, and scream about how much they suck, go right ahead. but all you're doing is letting your insecurites shine loud for all to see. some people become so consumed with being cool, that they put all this science and math into it... and if you don't follow the same science and math, surely you're uncool.

but.... it's not that complicated. the math is really simple:

like what you like cuz you like it + don't be a douchebag = being cool.


if you catch me mocking celine dion fans, i give you full permission to go ahead and slap the uncool right out of me.

a dude in defense of valentine's day

my view on valentine's day up till this year was one of disapproval. i was of the opinion that it was a bs holiday created by hallmark and other greeting card, chocolate, and flower companies. my view was that the purpose of its creation was to guilt men into spending money on their significant others or else face the consequences of being labeled a no good dude who doesn't buy his special lady stuff on v-day.

but i've been doing some thinking as of late, and my opinion has changed a little.

a lot of guys have been spending the past 6 months parked on their sofas watching football all weekend. and just when the ladies thought they were gonna get some monday night attention, boom, monday night football was there to prove otherwise. the nfl has expanded its schedule and now even has thursday night games. then there's ncaa games that pop up on all sorts of random days. when there's no game, there's sports center and highlight shows and fantasy teams that can't be neglected. it's tough to show attention to the ladies when your favorite squad of millionaires are fighting for a playoff spot.

and unlike baseball, basketball, and hockey, there's no all star break in the middle of the football season. at least the other sports acknowledge this crisis and give you a break somewhere in the middle of the season by taking a hiatus and presenting a game of all stars that no one takes serious. they provide men with a good chance to step away and show our significant others a good time (kudos to the NBA who's all star break is currently the same weekend as valentine's day).

the nfl is relentless. no all star game till the season's over. no break. no opportunity.

so to all the dudes who are sports fans and are eagerly waiting for the beginning of baseball... take this chance during a lull in sports to treat your woman right! no one takes the winter olympics seriously so this won't work as an alibi. get off your ass and take your woman out! buy her stuff, do what she wants, listen to her talk, and give her your undivided attention! it's the least you can do for your awesome woman who stood by your side while you and your friends pigged out on buffalo wings and chugged beer for the past 6 months.

happy valentine's day ladies!

how to be the best best man you can be (an easy to follow checklist)

my brother, phil, graciously made me the best man for his wedding this past weekend. thanks phil! that was awesome! being best man is an honor. it should be taken seriously. you don't want to fuck this up! follow my checklist for an excellent and rewarding best man experience:

1- look sharp (this is easy for the dudes. you'll need 3 things: rented tux, fresh haircut, fresh shave... go ahead, i DARE you not to look sharp).

2- get a sexy date (i lucked out on this step since i coincidentally have a sexy girlfriend).

3- party your ass off! at the wedding, before the wedding, after the wedding.

4- dance your ass off!

5- indulge! there's an open bar and a buffet for a reason.

6- don't buy under aged kids drinks (you got the rest of your life to corrupt minors. but for tonight, you are the best man so don't be that guy).

7- be clutch. if a wedding is a football game, you're the field goal kicker. they may not ask you for much, but what they do ask you for is important and cannot be fucked up!

8- don't take pictures, be the pictures. (everyone else has cameras. there's even a couple dudes running around paid good money to take pictures).

9- don't be a buzz kill!!!

10- bring it for the toast!! not only cuz every one's watching and listening, and not only cuz it's a good chance to ham it up a little, but mostly cuz it's a great chance to show the bride and groom your appreciation and love for both of them. and that is what being best man is really all about.

i won't blog about work

i'll never blog about work. no matter what happens, how funny, how traumatic, how awesome, or how tragic... work related junk will never make it to my blog.

it's not that i hate my job. in fact, it's almost the exact opposite. the thing is, i like having a job. it's my bread and butter and it helps to keep clothes on my back, my belly full, and the bills paid. it's a pretty sweet deal and i don't wanna fuck that up.

i don't wanna slip and write something that's in conflict of interest with my employment. maybe i'll slip a slur against a boss or co-worker (i love you guys, all of you, yes even the smelly one!!!). maybe i'll say something proprietary or complain about something i shouldn't. i don't think many important people at my job read my blog, but hey, you never know. if i was them, i'd read it. gotta be more interesting than boring corporate memos.

it's too bad. i got a ton of great work related shit to write about. oh well, guess you'll never know..... unless..... well, the only way i could blog about work is if you all make me really, really famous! then i can be rich, quit my job, and write a tell all book that i could sell for the low, low price of $45.99.


*in case i do get famous, don't hold me to the whole writing a book thing. i'm way too lazy for that.

**however, if i do get famous, here's 3 promises you can hold me to:

-i'll live somewhere warm all the time
-my place will be cleaner cuz i'll pay someone to clean it
-i still won't dress fancy-like

***i did a spell check and didn't mess up proprietary. go me.

unsung heroes (fireman ed on my shoulders)

this is fireman ed:







he's sorta a big deal in jets nation. he's the #1 fan and a real life mascot for the new york jets. whenever you watch a game and you hear the "J-E-T-S, JETS, JETS, JETS!!!" chant, it's fireman ed who's leading the charge. if you go to the games, you'll see him on the big screen, his bald, screaming face up close and personal for thousands of fans to see.

this dude gets tons of exposure. he's famous among jets fans and football fans in general. love him or hate him, his name is known. he's probably the world's most famous sports fan.

at every game, to help be seen, fireman ed sits atop the shoulders of another man. a man who's name i don't know and never heard. a man who's never been referred to by name. he's just the dude who carries fireman ed on his shoulders. he is an unsung hero.

i went to the jets pep rally in the middle of times square last week. and fireman ed got to give a speech! that's right! a fan!! a fan got to give a speech in the middle of the world, times square, new york!!! he was giving a speech alongside the likes of mayor bloomberg, gov. paterson, leon washington, and maybe the greatest jets player of all time, curtis martin.

he got the opening slot to get the crowd going. when they introduced him, he was carried up a flight of stairs onto the stage by who else but our nameless, unsung hero. he walked fireman ed up the stairs on his shoulders and fireman ed stayed on this dude's shoulder for his whole speech (probably like 3-4 minutes). but imagine looking out at a crowd dying to give fireman ed their undying adoration as they scream "J-E-T-S!!" back at that stage. and there he is, quiet and humble, never saying a word.

this one's for you, dude who carries fireman ed on your shoulder. i don't know anything about you. but without you, fireman ed would just be another big mouthed fan in the crowd. it's you who helps him rise above the masses and be seen. you are truly an unsung hero.

shameless self promotion

i just set up a wireless network in my house for my new net book i got for my birthday. i needed to come up with a name for my network. i wanted it to be something that sounds or seems semi-interesting. all the other networks i saw out there had boring names and i wanted to add something animated to the blah landscape. for the most part everyone else named their networks with their own name or the last name of their family (the one exception was GOSTEELERS... whatever front runner). YOU'RE ALL BORING!!! put a little thought and creativity into it!

being the shameless self promoter that i tend to be at times, i chose to name my wireless network after my blogspot. so when you see my network, you'll see:

GOTOJOSHAINTFUNNYBLOGSPOTCOM

unfortunately i couldn't put "." in between the words, so it's just one big, jumbled up, run on word... but i think people will get the picture. i'm sure this form of self promotion will send the traffic over to my blogspot in hordes. i can't wait! i'm sure i'll see witty comments like:

"HEY! UNLOCK YOUR NETWORK SO I CAN STEAL SOME OF YOUR BANDWIDTH DOUCHE BAG!"

or

"YOUR WIRELESS NETWORK NAME BLOWS!"

y'know, top notch literature in the form of internet blurbs.

in closing, i feel like i did an excellent job in naming my wireless network. let's hope i'm still this good if i ever have to name children (some of my current ideas for child names include Ninja, Robot, and Boxtrotriotfest).


ps- i can't afford a billboard......

pps- i am accepting donations for the whole billboard thing, which i will probably end up spending on booze! either way, it's a good cause, so loosen up them pockets tight wad!)

ppps- i'll try to never use a ppps in any of my blogs ever again.