India's fasination with the mustache

Magnum had one. Apollo Creed had one. Earl has one. I am talking about mustaches. I really don't have any friends that have them. Maybe it is my generation or maybe I just don't know anyone who is a man's man. I have noticed though that the Indian consultants at my office love mustaches. I just took a walk around and I would have to say that nine out of ten male Indians have a mustache. Two out of five females are in the same boat. Before you say I am mean remember I work in IT. Can't expect much for the grooming habits in a technology shop.

I have a theory for why the mustache is so popular in India. Could it be that they are behind the times with regards to Amercian TV? This may sound ignorant but isn't Magnum a recent addition to the one channel they get in Mumbai? Was Rocky dubbed in Hindi? 'Tu Khaye ga bijli aur tati nikle gi garag ke' - roughly translated to: 'You're gonna eat lightnin' and you're gonna crap thunder!' Whatever the reason may be, I have to say "Good for them." Here's to the mustache and finally finding a culture that embraces it like it is 1979. If you have the power, I highly recommend that you use it.

***Not an actual co-worker

Betrayal

I mentioned a few days ago that my friend Billy and his wife were in town over the weekend. As luck would have it their travel plans allowed for a long layover in Los Angeles. Even though I was only able to hang out for a few hours, Sarah was nice enough and trusting enough to let them crash in her place while we were gone. My greatest fear was that Monkey would run out the door when they left. Yesterday I clicked on Billy's Blog to see if his honeymoon pics were up. To my horror this is what I found:




TRUST NO ONE

Following in the footsteps of Peter Griffin

Who hasn't had the dream of growing up to work at a toy company? It is right up there with fireman, astronaut, and spy. I know everyone who saw the movie 'Big' thought, damn: I want to grow up and dance on a giant piano, make lots of cash, and have sex with Elizabeth Perkins. Sure, times have changed; and Elizabeth Perkins is spent, but the dream is still alive. I had a job interview this morning with one of the world’s largest toy manufacturers. For now they may remain anonymous. All I will say is that they make a doll that has made girls insecure for decades. The job was in the IT department which kinda sucks, but I guess I couldn't really expect them to hire me to design toys with no experience or artistic ability. It really doesn't matter what happens. I am just glad that I am following in the foot steps of Peter Griffin. First I will work at Happy-Go-Lucky Toys, then Pawtucket Ale. It is all coming together nicely.


Who cares if I get a new job anyway. Tonight all my 'investing' will pay off!!! (See previous post)

What would you do for a Klondike bar million dollars

I have finally figured out how to make some real money. Can you guess how? Mutual funds perhaps? Nope. Google stock? Not likely. Real Estate? Not unless there is an earthquake. Do you give up? My master plan is the lottery!! All I need is a $1 investment to win $256,000,000, the current Mega Jackpot. It's the American dream! All right, maybe it isn't the soundest investment in the world, but one can dream can't they? It is so much damn cash. Most people sit around thinking about all the stuff they would like to buy with the money, but that’s not my style. I like to think about all the things I would make other people do to get a piece of the pie. There is nudity, depravity, humiliation, and gluttony to name a few. Usually people tell me to shut up once I ask if they would eat corn that has already been digested. Sadly, I am sure the only lottery I am going to win is going to involve a stoning.

Now that I have the comments section up, let's hear what you would do for a cool mill! How low would you go?

Compliment or Insult?

Cathy Seipp had this to say about my blog: 'It's actually strangely funny, in a deceptively bland, Dilbert-meets-"Deep-Thoughts"-Jack-Handy kind of way'

Thoughts?

Gluttony Revisted

One of the traditions that my brother and I hold dear is going out for a great meal together on each other’s birthdays. Whoever’s birthday it is, gets to pick the restaurant while the other brother gets to cry as he pays. Over the years we have been all over the place, Morton’s, Grace, Reign, The Ritz Carlton, etc, etc. This year, the spawn of the Devil chose Jar. I really didn't know much about the place going in other than the fact that my wallet was going to bleed green.

I was sure of only two things with regards to this weekend. My brother's birthday meal was to be Saturday and my friend Billy and his wife were going to be around Sunday (honeymoon layover). Anyway, midweek I found out that Billy would be in town, Saturday not Sunday. This was fine in that I was still glad I would see him, but it kind of sucked because it really didn't give us much time to hang out because of my dinner plans. After Billy went through Customs and what not, it was 3:30 before we actually met up; and my Jar reservation was at 8:00. The clock was running out fast. Billy only really wanted to do two things while in Los Angeles. One was to check the price of regular unleaded at every gas station he saw, like he was autistic; and two, eat at Mr. Cecil's. Shit!!!! What could I say? I didn't want to disappoint my friend; and more importantly, I am generally unable to turn down ribs. It is kind of like Jello. There is always room for ribs! To make a long story short by 5:30 I had ingested half a rack of beef ribs, hush puppies, baked beans, and two root-beers. This only gave me two and half hours to digest before my next meal. Most people would have bailed on dinner but I didn't want to disappoint my brother. I am so caring! I figured I would just suck it up and eat light.

Either I am Takeru Kobayashi or I have a serious tapeworm. Jar was good to me, very good to me. Here is me eating light:

Appetizer: Deviled eggs and lobster salad

Entree: Seared scallops, creamed corn, mashed potatoes, creamed spinach, French fries, and steamed asparagus

Dessert: Cappuccino and are you ready for it..................BUTTERSCOTCH pudding. What have I been saying about butterscotch pudding? Big things, I tell you. Jar's butterscotch pudding was amazing. I felt my insulin levels soaring as I took each bite.

I know most people must be thinking that I am a complete animal right now, but in my defense I did go to the gym this morning to counter some of the effects.

Here is the only photo I got from last night. For some reason the bowl refused to be photographed with the pudding in it.



On a final note - Even though I ate way too much, the day was great. I got to see a good friend that I don't get to see that often and I had a great second dinner, or as I like to call it: 'Dinner the Sequel'

If you are in L.A. check out Jar. The food awesome.

And on this day Sybil gave birth 33 years ago

Last night I saw 'Constantine' on Cinemax. Another fine Keanu Reeves' picture. It’s no 'Point Break' but still Oscar worthy. In the movie there is talk about how the Spear of Destiny could bring forth the son of Lucifer onto this world. I was really hoping that it was somehow based on fact, so I could make some reference to how my parents must have obtained the spear covered in Christ's blood to give forth my brother, but I guess it is all make believe. I will have to come up with some other story for how my brother came to this earth. For now let’s all just wish him a happy birthday!!!

Slow Day

Today is shaping up to be a forgettable day. Not because anything bad has happened, it is more like nothing has happened. I have the attention span of a golden retriever puppy right now. I am oscillating between falling asleep in my cabin (cube) and being too bored to even write this. I wish someone would shake some keys in front of me or something. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.......shiny keys!!!!

Bombs Away

I have enabled the comment feature on this blog. Feel free to leave your inner most thoughts about my inner most thoughts.

Getting Ready for the Show

After the debacle of my car being impounded last week, I finally got my new tires on Thursday. They lasted all of one day before I got another nail in the driver's side rear. Karma is getting even for my neighbor's DUI.

Speaking of which, I had a talk with him last night about the DUI and exactly what was consumed before he got in my car. The story went from two beers to one beer, one bong hit, and two shots. I asked him why he was doing shots on a Tuesday at 6:00 P.M., and he responded by saying that is how he gets ready for the show. What show is he talking about?

Kermit the Sellout

I drove to work today listening to Music, Mayhem, and More, the Muppet Show 25th Anniversary Music Collection. Mahna Mahna Do do-do do, Mahna Mahna Do doo be-do-do be-do-do be-do-do ... Try to keep that out of your head.

Anyway, I own 'The Muppet Movie', and 'The Muppets Take Manhattan' DVDs. I have always respected Kermit and Miss Piggy's interracial relationship. I never judged Animal. I laughed at Fozzie's jokes. Even though my respect has never waned, I know times have gotten tough. With CGI, kids nowadays just don't think a frog riding through Central Park on a bicycle is that impressive. I can get over the fact that Kermit and Miss Piggy are slinging dough at Pizza Hut. I can even get over the fact that 'The Muppets Treasure Island' was made. However, there is one thing that is killing me. Take a look at Ford's new hybrid commercial . . . Kermit is now a shill for Ford.

In the online commercial, Kermit is enjoying the outdoors while singing ‘It Is Not easy Being Green.’ Suddenly Kermit sees a Ford Escape Hybrid and says, "I guess it is easy being green." I know making money in Hollywood is no easy task. I have seen many a dream crushed, including my own. (Anyone want to buy a reality TV show?) It is just sad to me to think that Kermit needs money so badly that he would take a job for the company that dumped toxic chemicals in New Jersey. Poor Kermit! I know he has pride, but he could have asked me or Dr. Bunsen Honeydew for some cash before it came to him selling his soul to the Devil. Ford doesn't care about him. Just watch the commercial. They don't even make him wear a helmet when he is mountain biking. It is a sad sad day for Muppets everywhere. Next you are going to tell me that the Doozers are building casinos for Trump. Stop the madness.

Nuances of Language

I am not sure why I think this is so funny, but an Indian co-worker just called my cube a cabin. I now have this image of myself working in a giant Lincoln log playset, roof included. It is nice to see not everyone thinks of a cube as a prison.

Han Solo's Filling Station

I just had dinner at Ford's Filling Station in Culver City. Harrison Ford’s son owns the restaurant. Not the son with Ally McBeal, but one of the older ones from a previous marriage. I think his mom is Carrie Fisher or Karen Allen, but don't quote me on that.

At this point I am not sure how I feel about the Filling Station. The atmosphere was great and I liked the food. I am even willing to let the fact that our reservation was lost slide. They have only been open a week, so there are some kinks that need working out. The main problem I had with the place was the fact I told myself I was only going to get an $11 burger and ended up ordering the $25 Lamb. Don't get me wrong; the lamb was great, I just didn't think I would end up spending $50 on dinner on a Monday night. Granted, no one held a gun to my head to also order a salad and butterscotch pudding. Aside from the cost, I think the place is worth a try.

On another note, am I the only person who has noticed that butterscotch pudding is having a renaissance? As far as I know up until a few months ago if you wanted good butterscotch pudding you had better live near a store that sells MY*T*Fine brand pudding. The stuff is awesome. Unfortunately, it is not sold in California. I usually get a few boxes when I am back east. Anyway, now it seems butterscotch pudding is becoming a trendy dessert. Not only does Ford's Filling Station serve it, but Clementine as well. I predict big things coming from this pudding. Mark my words.

Gluttony?

n 1: habitual eating to excess 2: eating to excess (personified as one of the deadly sins)

Recap of the food I ate today:

Breakfast:

Filet mignon and eggs
Blueberry pancakes
Glass of pineapple juice
Five cups of coffee

Lunch:

Bag of peanut M&Ms

Dinner:

Quarterpounder
Six piece chicken nuggets
Medium size French fries
Large Coke
Hot Fudge Sundae with nuts and extra hot fudge

You be the judge.

Eyes Burning

This post has been removed by special request. I wish I could remove it from my memory as easily.

Real Learn-ed

I have decided to take my writing to the next level. I have enrolled in 'The Essential Beginnings: An Introductory Creative Writing Workshop' at UCLA. My first class is April 5th.

I figure when it is over it will be appropriate for me to say, "When I left you, I was but the learner. Now I am the master."

Everyone should respond by saying, "Only a master of evil!"

I couldn't make this up if I tried

As some of you may know, I have a Mini Cooper. It is a great little car that I can literally whip around like it is on rails. The only problem with this style of driving is that the tires don't last too long. I have about twenty thousand miles on the car and the tires are shot. For the last few weeks I have been looking into every possible shady deal as to not pay full price for my car's new shoes. In my defense they are crazy expensive tires. Anyway I finally decided to hit up my neighbor who works at BMW. My neighbor is a great guy, and even though he said he couldn't directly get me a deal, he would arrange for his friend at Mini of Long Beach to take care of it. I was pumped. Not only was the guy at Mini going to hook me up but my neighbor was even willing to deliver the car to his buddy, so I didn't even have to leave the house. All I had to do was leave the keys and the car would be dropped off Tuesday night. I was supposed to have the car back the following night.

Here is where the story goes to shit. Last night I never saw my neighbor. I figured he took my car, dropped it off, and went out for the night. I really thought nothing of it. At about 7:30 this morning there was a knock at the door. I came running out of the shower to find my neighbor standing there with the worst look on his face. He tells me that something bad happened in my car last night. I immediately assumed my sweet ride had been involved in vehicular manslaughter. It turns out it was more of a bad night for my neighbor than anyone else. Here is a run down of the previous night:

6:30 P.M. - Neighbor takes my car out of the garage to drop it off
6:31 P.M. - I am at the local liquor store buying a case of Coors Light as a thank you for those who helped me get my new tires
6:32 P.M. - Neighbor gets pulled over for not turning the lights on in my car
6:33 P.M. - Police feel my neighbor looks a little wasted
6:34 P.M. - Multiple Police Officers give a field sobriety test to my neighbor who admits to having a few beers
6:35 P.M. - I am sitting on my couch, not realizing that my neighbor was pulled over 2 blocks away
6:36 P.M. - Police inform my neighbor they have only one more test for him. For this one he needs to turn around. They cuff him and throw him in a squad car.
6:37 P.M. - Neighbor gets arrested for driving while under the influence
6:38 P.M. - Mini Cooper gets impounded
6:45 P.M - Neighbor fails a breathalyzer at the Police station
11:30 P.M. - I go to sleep
11:30 P.M. - Neighbor sleeps on the floor of his cell
12:00 A.M. - Neighbor makes sweet sweet love to his cell mate (kidding)
1:30 A.M. - Neighbor is released from Jail

So this morning I went with my neighbor to get my car out of the impound yard. I honestly feel really bad. It cost him $189 to get my car back, plus who knows what it is going to cost in legal fees for the actual DUI. Now some might say he was the dumb ass for drinking and driving, but I take some responsibility for making him leave his couch to do me a favor. Granted I don't feel so bad that I told him to forget the tires. His buddy is going to take care of my car tomorrow.

Worst part of the whole story is now the case of Coors seems like an inappropriate gift for the favor.

I don't get it!

Over the last couple of days there have been some questions as to why my blog exists. Some of my brother's 'friends' have told him they just don't get it. Well here is simple truth, my blog has no specific purpose. It started off as a place for me to write about mountain biking, but somewhere along the way I got sidetracked. Now as you can see from some of my past posts, I will pretty much write about anything that pops into my head. Sometimes it will be funny. Sometimes it won't. Almond Joy has nuts, Mounds don't.


Who am I kidding, this site exists for one reason. I like having an audience for my nonsense.

Monkey's First Noreaster

New York has been blanketed in snow. Most people hate it, but Monkey isn't most people. My very well traveled dog has been in NYC for the last few months with Sarah. Here are a few shots of him enjoying the recent weather:






I know there are going to be some jokes made about the fact that my dog is wearing shoes. All I can say is, like most bad things in life, blame the mother!

Looks easier than it is

I set a world record on Saturday. I actually road my bike for the third time in one week. According to Guiness that is at least two more times than anyone has ever done before. On a serious note it was nice to be outside. The weather has been awesome. Here are a couple of pics from the ride. I swear the climbs are steeper than they look.

Don't feed the Mogwai after midnight

I have been told not to feed a Mogwai after midnight. I have been told not to eat for an hour before swimming. I have even been told to eat slower, but the one thing I have never been told is not to eat Indian food after 9 p.m. I got a late start on dinner last night due to the combination of an after work nap and having to wait for someone who isn't into eating the second they leave work like I am.

Now I really have no reason to complain. It was totally up to me where we ate. I just didn't take the time of the meal into consideration when I insisted we eat Indian food. I am not sure if it was the chicken corma or the 5 iced chai lattes that I had, but I have never had a worse night's sleep. I honestly was convinced that it was only a matter of time before I turned into Stripe. I think I just sweat out the last of the raita.

So old

I am kind of sick of writing about biking. I get much more enjoyment writing about other nonsense but since I did actually ride last night I figure I can mention it. I took out the single speed. For those that don't know what a single speed is, it is a mountain bike with only one gear. The bike has two speeds. The speed when I am pedaling and the speed when I am walking. It is the ultimate torture device. The only reason I took it last night was because I was too lazy to move it to get to my other bike. I was penny wise, pound foolish. Now I am sitting at my desk in pain. My lower back feels like I was kicked by a mule. My calves are burning like Heat Miser. So old!

Ice Pick

My consulting company just hired a new account manager. Her name is Beth. She shows up once a week and walks around making sure Toyota the client and the worker bees are happy. I shit you not, she just came over to my desk and said the following: "If I had to sit in a cube all day, like you are doing right now, I would stick an ice pick through my eye." Finally, someone who understands my plight. Welcome, Beth!!

80 degrees

I will rag on Los Angeles any chance I get, but I have to give credit where credit is due. It is the middle of winter and it 80 degrees out. The high for today is supposed to be 90. Granted, half of southern California is on fire right now but still. 80 degrees. If I didn't have a job you know how awesome that would be.

Oh My Darlin', Clementine

I am a bit of a one trick pony. I find a restaurant that I like and I go there over and over again. Just take a look at my love affair with Mr. Cecil's. I can't get enough of those ribs. Week after week, ribs, ribs, and more ribs.

I can't believe I am admitting this but there is a place that has made me not care about ribs. As I sit here rubbing my stomach from an awesome dinner I feel it is necessary to share with the world what made my belly so happy. My joy came from a little place in Century City called Clementine. They serve seasonal fresh food, which means the menu changes every couple of months. It is nothing short of amazing. Let me describe my dinner so you can get an idea of why I am in love. I started off with hearty bean and chicken soup, followed by a rare roast beef sandwich with horseradish mustard dressing, marinated onions and arugula on rustic bread. For dessert I had a hot chocolate with home made marshmallows and a sampling of their fresh baked cookies. All right I can't describe anything else. I am too fat right now to keep my eyes open. Check out the current menu and some pictures of the baked goods at Clementine Online. I promise you will not be disappointed. However, I make no promises that you won’t be in a diabetic coma after you eat there.

Beyond gay biking moment

I finally got on my bike today. My performance was nothing short of pathetic. On another note, pre ride I experienced some mental trauma that I am sure I will NEVER recover from. There were only two of us on today's excursion. For now my friend will remain nameless. The only thing you need to know about him, is that he likes to ride with no shirt on. I once asked him why he insists on scaring people with his exposed body and he gave me some bullshit about the perfect tan or something to that effect.

As we were getting ready to start the ride, my friend was standing there in front of me bare-chested when he dropped the bomb on me. Nonchalantly, he asks me to lather up his back with sun block. Now this isn't something I would want to do for anyone, let alone a hairy forty year old man. When I expressed my lack of desire to do the deed, he called me homophobic. I was taken aback. I am not homophobic. He played some sort of mental trickery on me that ended with my right hand rubbing the fur on his shoulders. I can't believe I did it. His hairy back is now scorched into my brain. He laughed when I was done. I feel so dirty.

Honda updates Accord after sixteen years!

So my title might be a bit misleading. It is a joke about the fact that my mother has finally replaced her 1990 Honda Accord coupe with a 2006 Honda Accord Sedan. I was a sophomore in high school the last time Sybil haggled on the price of a automobile. Don't get me wrong, the 90 Accord was a great car. I just can not believe my age has doubled while my mom has been cruising around in that thing. It is the end of an era. Lets hope the new ride can be as sweet as the old.

Memorable moments in the Accord:
-Being driven to high school by my brother when he was 17
-First speeding ticket
-First time I hit 120 mph (Don't tell Sybil)
-First accident, hit the side of my girlfriend's house (Don't tell Sybil)

My Doppelganger?

I was just sitting here minding my own business when an instant message popped up from one of my brother's past lady friends. We will call her Skye, as I am sure she wouldn't want her real identity disclosed. We went through the standard formalities of hello, how are you, etc. Then she dropped the real reason she was writing. Over the weekend Skye saw a band called Of Montreal, and was convinced I was playing bass. She really wondered why when she screamed "Barry," the bassist never looked at her. I assured her that I had no musical talent and she must have been mistaken. Skye then proceeded to send me a link to the bands website. I am a bit insulted by what she thinks I look like but hell it made me laugh and that counts for something. If you would like to join in on the mockery, here is the pic of my stunt double: The guy in glasses

On a less mocking note, Skye did have this to say about my blog: "You're insightful and hilarious, with a touch of sentimentality". Or was that more mockery? Who cares.

NJ Dumping

I mentioned the other day that I was spending quite a bit of time on the Weird NJ site. Coincidentally, last night I came across some other New Jersey info on MTBR that I just can't believe. It seems that there use to be a Ford factory not far from my house and even closer to one of my favorite mountain biking spots. The factory, located in Mahwah, closed in 1980 and a Sheraton was built in its place. I almost had my Bar Mitzvah there but that is another story. Anyway, a car factory in New Jersey seems odd to me but that is not the most startling part of what I found. For years the plant was having its toxic waste dumped in the woods of Ringwood. Tons of lead automobile paint and other stuff was just dumped into the ground by shady waste management companies. There are even rusted out LTDs and tires lying around the Sheraton from when the factory was still running. The article talks about how cancer is rampant in the area. The whole thing is really sad. It is such a nice section of New Jersey. I think Ford and the state are now spending millions to clean it all up. I seriously hope no permanent damage was done but I may be a bit optimistic. You can read all about it here :Toxic Legacy .