Bigfoot? Captain Caveman? Lewis?

I really wanted to go mountain biking this weekend, but no one would go with me.  Boo hoo hoo. Life is tuff.   Since I refuse to do anything alone and really wanted to do some exercise,  I decided to go for a hike with my brother.  He always asks and I always say yes, but then at the last minute I scream "I'm out!" I liken it to Lucy pulling the football away.  Today though, that all changed at Los Liones Canyon.

I could go into how Lewis insisted we stop for breakfast before the hike or how I had to wait for him to evacuate his bowels while he texted me photos of his movement to give me a timetable of when the hiking would actually commence, but I I think I will focus on what's really important which is my brother has retard strength.  We went to Los Liones Canyon for what I assumed would be a nice little walk.  What I did not expect was that as soon as we got on the trail my brother would basically sprint off into the woods. He was all business. Full speed ahead. Two things made this awful. First off, I couldn't even remotely keep up with him.  It was embarrassing.  For the amount of mountain biking that I do you would think I would be able to walk up some easy trails at a brisk pace.  This was not the case.   I walked super slow in a zig zag pattern.  If you look at the tracks, you would think a coyote was dragging my corpse back to its den.  My right ass cheek and my hip flexors are still burning.  Now the second issue which should be clear by now, is that I don't like to do things alone.  This was lost on my brother. Because of his speed which I naturally attribute to his caveman walking style, I in essence went hiking alone.  Well I wasn't totally alone, I got to walk behind a nice elderly couple in cargo shorts that had ski poles to help them balance.  They were more than happy to ask if I was doing okay and if I hiked alone often.

It wasn't all bad.  My brother did take me to lunch after the hike.  Then again he was looking at his iPad the whole time so I guess I had lunch alone too.

Lewis, thanks for a lovely day.

Camp Harlam - Current Events

I think I've mentioned once or twice that back in the '80s I went to Jewish sleep away camp for six days.  That's all I could handle before I made my parents come pick me up.  In hindsight I guess it's pathetic that I couldn't handle being in a sleep away camp for Jews.  I imagine there was a lot of sunscreen, complaining, and little weak boys standing around a field looking at a soccer ball wondering  what it was.  I try to block out my failures, but today I was reminded of those days in the backwoods of Pennsylvania when I saw this news article.  I guess some hicks from Tennessee decided terrorizing a bunch of little Jewish kids would be a good use of time.  Now I know this is terrible and I shouldn't laugh, but as a survivor of a Jewish concentration sleep away camp I feel I am allowed to be amused at the thought of these little kids in their yarmulkes running for cover as Cassandra here fires away at them with her paintball gun screaming "Go back to where the fuck you came from you goddamn Jews." Just think about the whole scene.  You know it's funny.

No one said I was a good person.  It could be worse.  At least I'm not Dane Cook (has nothing to do with his Dark Knight joke).

Had to get it out of my system

In what I consider an unprecedented move, I took the initiative to go see The Dark Knight Rises for a second time.  This was the first time I 've ever seen a movie for a second time in the theater.  Until now I never saw a need.  Sure you could chalk it up to me being unemployed and having a delusion that I am indeed batman or you could you could say to yourself the movie is that good.  It isn't.  Don't get me wrong, I loved it, but the second time around I started to see the flaws.  If you look closely, you will notice that batman is wearing eye liner.  That's a deal breaker.

It might be time for me to give my batman mask back to the child I stole it from.  I don't think the world is ready for Jewish batman anyway.

Sad day indeed.

Eastside Apartment in the Sky

If you live on the upper east side and need a shirt pressed, I have some sad news for you.  George Jefferson, of Jefferson Cleaners has passed away.  The store will be closed the rest of the week while Weezy mourns.

As I wipe away the tears, I would be remiss if I didn't mention my fondest memory of Mr. George Jefferson.  It felt like yesterday that George was babysitting Mrs. Whittendale's doberman.  They were playing fetch when an errant toss sent the dog souring off the balcony to his death. For some reason my father couldn't stop laughing when George told Mrs. Whittendale that Poochie committed doggy suicide.  That laughter was infectious and I couldn't help but laugh too.  What do you want from me? It was 1982, my father was high, and this was as good as TV got.

Godspeed George.

 

The Dark Knight Rises

On July 20th, I completed my final goal of summer.  I saw The Dark Knight Rises.  It was everything I hoped it would be. I may be in the minority with this, but I liked it better than The Dark Knight.  We could probably debate the pros and cons of both movies for hours but let's focus on what's important.  The movie has inspired me.  I finally know what I want to be when I grow up.  I want, no I need, to be batman.  I don't see any other way for my life to be fulfilled.  I need the suit, the batpod, the cave, and of course the man servant.  What else is a giant nerd who not so secretly wants to kick everyone's ass to do?  I started working on my costume and batpod.  Now I just have to get in shape.  Fear me.

No Credit for Jhen

I have this friend named Jhen.  She is Mexican, not that there is anything wrong with that.  I met her in New York roughly twelve years ago.  She was working as a chamber maid at a Holiday Inn Express that I liked to frequent for the free continental breakfast.  We hit it off right away and have managed to stay friends all these years despite me being a terrible friend, her almost getting deported, and me moving away.  We don't talk that much these days (mostly because Jhen has a burner phone), but once a year, four days before her birthday, she flies to LA to hang out.  She normally stays with me and we spend the entire time eating like two orphans who just got adopted.  On the second day of her stay I ask her when her birthday is and she tells me it is right after she goes home.  I of course completely forget and never wish her a happy birthday.  One would think she would get upset but she takes it all in stride.   This year though she threw a giant wrench in the plan and I don't think our friendship will ever recover.

Jhen had the nerve to bring a Chinese friend with her on the trip and worse than that, she didn't even stay with me.  Jhen and the china girl stayed with yet another friend.  Instead of us having our normal pig fest, followed by nap fest,  I had to actually schedule time to hang out with her. It was terrible.  All we had was one lousy lunch.  Now at that lunch she did pack away a patty melt and a waffle which was impressive, but I'm still mad.  I had a salad in protest of her betrayal.  Here's a picture from the five seconds we hung out.  Maybe she will get it right next year.  Until then I'm fuming.

Happy Birthday Monkey!

Seventy years ago an unwed bitch gave birth to the most important person in my life.  A person who has no equal.  A person who has seen me through thick and thin.  A person who always holds my hair when I throw up.  A person who has always been there to help me bury the bodies and never asks questions.  A person who is able to lick his own junk.  I'm of course talking about my dog, Monkey.  Ten years ago Rooney made sweet love to Xena and nine weeks later Monkey appeared as the runt of the litter.  Yes, I know my dog's parents names and I find nothing odd about it.  Monkey, you complete me.  Here's to another ten years.  Hopefully I'll live that long.

Unemployment has aged me.

Over the last few months I wish I could say I maximized my unemployment by getting in amazing shape or by spending my days writing a new TV pilot, but anyone who knows me, knows that would be a lie. The truth is I haven't done much of anything, but fall apart. I did have an amazing idea for a show that revolves around an old white guy who has a stroke and his young black nurse that helps him get better. Picture John Malkovich as the stroke victim and Mo'Nique as the nurse. I will call it Stroke of Luck. That is a post for another time though and no I did not steal the idea from The Intouchables. 

The purpose of this post is to discuss how I have aged approximately twenty-three years in the course of six months due to not working. Not since the president have I seen a position age a man worse. Have you ever looked at pictures of Bush when he first took office and then when he left? He was beaten down by the job. In this case I've been beaten down by the lack of job. My body is broken from inactivity. Clearly I need to back this up with cold hard facts, so let me begin with my goiter. I lost my job and the first thing I find out is I have some sort of a growth in my neck. If I was employed I doubt it would have happened or at the very least I doubt I would have gone to the doctor to check. Then there's my back. When I was employed I had a herniated disc. I lost my job and the herniated disc went away. I know in this case it sounds like not having a job made me better, but think again. In its place I now have a torn disc. Obviously it's unemployments fault. With the torn disc has come a new ailment called "Give Way Weakness." or as my doctor calls it "Faggot Legs." It's where I will be walking along and suddenly I get the sensation that my legs are going to give out. Sounds fun right? If I was sitting at a desk working, I wouldn't have to worry about my legs giving out now would I? And now the final nail in the coffin, I now have terrible stiff necks. It was either me jerking off in the shower and turning my head to see if I was out of shampoo or I slept on it weird. Either way I wouldn't have been in the shower or sleeping if I was working. Have I proven that unemployment has broken me yet? Jesus this post is long winded for nothing. The point is I went and had acupuncture today to relieve my unemployed neck pain and I wanted to post a picture. Enjoy! I will try to blog more if I can work through the pain.

*I don't think Faggot Legs is a scientific term.
** Shit, look at those neck rolls.  Unemployment made me fat too!