Donut Man

I drove 50 miles one way this weekend to eat a donut. I really don't see that as a problem. I ordered four, took a bite out of each and threw the rest away. It felt like that episode of Three's Company where the food critic comes to Jack's restaurant, takes a bite of food and leaves. The only difference was no one working there cared that I didn't finish my food. That and the fact I was screaming "DON'T JUDGE ME", while waiving my sugary hands at the guy behind the counter.

One bite of Rasberry
One bite of Bavarian
One bite of a Cream Cheese (better in theory)
One bite of powdered sugar

Donut Man, it's good, but personally I'm a Randy's kind of guy.

Thirty Years ago I cried like a girl

When I was a toddler my mom took me to see Watership Down. I sort of remember seeing some rabbits and blood before the tears blocked my vision and my mom asked the 15 year old behind the counter for her money back. Rabbits aren't supposed to hurt each other. It's been thirty years and I still don't think I could make it through the movie.

Oh the horror!

So Ridiculous

Thanks Colleen for helping me love myself almost as much as you do; love yourself that is.

Video

Mickey Mouse Hands

I have been told over the years that I have large hands. Well large hands would have been a compliment. I have been told that I have the following:
*French Toast Stick fingers
*Fish Stick Fingers
*Sausage Link fingers
*Smooth Down Syndrome Hands (no lines)
*Fat Fingers

and the best, by my girlfriend's mother, Mickey Mouse hands. Look what she sent me for my birthday.

Me typing this post



Sadly they are quite comfortable.

I sent a man to death on my birthday

Today I turned 33 years old. It feels like yesterday that I was lying on my bedroom floor playing with a couple of gijoe figures. Oh wait, it was yesterday. People have been asking me all day what I was doing for the big day. Was I going anywhere special, blah, blah, blah. Beat this, today I had jury duty. What better gift could a person ask for than deciding the fate of another human being? I sat patiently all day waiting to be chosen. I was hoping my case would be settled in the alley behind the courthouse. There would be sub-titles, me dressed as some sort of shogun, and with the flip of a coin, someone would be put to death by villagers with torches. Alas, all that happened was, I ate a egg and cheese sandwich and fell asleep in the back of the jury waiting room. Next time!

Calisthenics

In six or seven years I will be the model of fitness.

Shana Tova and some Hitler trivia

I just wanted to wish all my Jewish peeps a happy new year!! On that note, what could be a better time to bring up HItler.

Here is some more dialogue for the movie I will never write. This is an actual conversation that was had by a couple of my friends and some random girl over the weekend. Names have been changed to protect the idiotic.

Random Girl: I have a friend who's grandfather was the lawyer who tried Hitler.
Ekaj: Uh, Hitler never went on trial. He and Eva Braun killed themselves before being captured.
Random Girl: Really?
Ekaj: Yeah
Ttam: Ekaj, you really made that girl feel like a fool. I think you tripped her up when you mentioned Hitler's last name.
Ekaj: Uhhh, Hitler is his last name you idiot. Adolf Hitler!!!

When I don't write the script I will make sure to put in descriptions so the actors can get the facial expressions correct.

Rye bread French Toast

Yesterday a friend told me that when he goes out to breakfast he orders rye bread french toast. Something about the bread being less likely to become soggy. Personally I think it is crazy talk, but until I try it I will hold off on making any comments I can't take back.

Thoughts?

So White!!!!

So my friend Jhen came for a visit this past weekend as you might have gathered from my Super Bush post. Being that she is ethnic, I try to act all down. Yeah, I listen to rap. One of the nights Jhen was in town she suggested we go to her friend Sean's art show. Who am I to say no to culture. All I knew about the place we were going was the address, 5111 West Pico. I assumed it would be a quaint little art gallery with some nerds looking at comic prints. At least that is what I hoped it would be. What I didn't expect was the art gallery was really a graffiti shop that happened to have some wall space for a couple of paintings. I have never felt whiter than I did in the spray paint half of the store. I walked in with my little fury dog and my pale white girlfriend and the music stopped. People obviously thought I was lost.
"Can I help you man?"
"Ugh. . . do you have any good paint for rust?"
"No. You need to get your ass out of here and try Home Depot."
"Sorry to disturb you. It won't happen again."
"Damn straight it won't happen again."

Okay none of that was said, but there might have been some awkward stares. Who knew there was a store where you could buy nothing but supplies for vandalism, I mean art. They had everything from vintage enamels to different nozzles so you could get your tag perfect. Told you I was down. I really have to plug the store. It fucking rocked. I may even go back one day. Of course I am going to have to take some of those tanning pills C. Thomas Howell took in Soul Man beforehand.

Check out the store. 33third

Oh and check out Jhen's friend's art. He is pretty talented for a black guy. Lesean Thomas

On a final note I must curse Jhen for making me go to Roscoe's for chicken and waffles. My bowels are more broken than my brain.

Actual photo of my meal

Jhen, thanks for the visit.

Super Bush

My friend Jhen came for a visit over the past weekend. Yes, that is how you spell her name. I think it has something to do with her Ecuadorian roots or her mom's lack of spelling ability. I am not sure which.

Somehow during her stay the conversation lead to stray body hair. A chin hair here, a toe hair there! All things I just didn't want to hear about, until of course the conversation turned to her mom's bush. Jhen felt comfortable enough in my presence to reminisce about going to the beach in the 80s with her mom. Her mom insisted on two things; wearing a bikini, and not having a bikini wax. Her mom was proud of her ginormous bush. The further down the leg it went the more feminine she was. I listened in horror as she told the story. All I could do was act like I was the therapist and she was the molested child. I drew a picture and asked Jhen to add the pubic hair. I promised no one would hurt her again.
"Jhen, show me what the bush looked like."

Here is the drawing I did. Jhen added the pubic hair. Later her brother confirmed the story. At least I think he did. All he said was "Dang girl, you told them about mom's pubes! I am still scarred!"



More about Jhen's visit coming soon!

Random photo from my car

Looks like I'm not the only asshole who bought doggles for his dog.

New Show Idea

How about a gynecologist who has his office on a boat?

Can't you picture the boat rocking with the girl in the stirrups? Okay I am an animal, but I still think it's funny.

Vaginal Cream Pen

There is nothing better than going to a meeting with a client, trying to act like you care about your job, taking clear and concise notes, only to realize that the pen you are holding has the word 'vaginal' written in huge letters down its side. Sadly, it isn't one of those pens that you turn upside down to show a girl's boobies. It is a pen that was obviously stolen from a doctor's office. My pen that writes so well is a trinket from the makers of Clindesse better known as (clindamycin phosphate) vaginal cream 2%. It is now my favorite pen.

Cholesterol Eating Mogwai

I just received news that my cholesterol is at an all time low.

Total - 168
LDL - 101
HDL - 56

Malts for everyone!


I'm not really sure where I thought this post was going. I had grand dreams of telling some elaborate story involving me, Mr. Wing, and a cholesterol eating mogwai but I just couldn't make it come together.

Valley Crossfit turned me into John McCain

Did Valley Crossfit give me the fortitude to be a prisoner of war? No. Did it give me the strength to run for president? Doubtful. Did one beginner class make it so I can't lift my arms over my head? Absolutely! I had the pleasure of working out for one hour yesterday at Valley Crossfit. It is one of those places where all my Lou Ferrigno weight lifting style gets thrown out the window. The place is all about coordination and form. Both of which I have in little supply. It was a very humbling experience. Sure I can't comb my hair today, but like a battered wife, I know I will be back for more. I am thinking I will start out small, nothing too big, something local. Oh wait that is the premise for the last Rocky movie. In either case my goal is to build some hurting bombs. In all seriousness I did enjoy the workout and will be back. I figure it puts me one step closer to my eventual goal of being a ninja detective.

Here is a picture of me now that my arms no longer bend:


I would also like to thank my brother for coming with me to the class. He is not big on deviating from his normal routine, which he reminded me of many, many times. He claims he would rather run on a treadmill for a good cardio workout, but the sweat dripping down his head as he tried to do pull-ups tells a different story. There may be hope for him yet.

Official Food of Fall

I have decided that the vanilla malt is the official food of Fall. On what authority I have no idea.

Patent Pending

I have created the perfect breakfast meal.

Make one baked potato. Make sure the skin is nice and crispy. Cook two slices of bacon. This must also be nice and crispy. Slice the potato open, apply butter, and crumble the bacon inside. Now for the most important part. Wait for it. Wait for it. Poach two eggs and put them inside the potato on top of the bacon. Tell me this isn't genius. I call it the poached egg, bacon, loaded baked potato. The name needs work but the concept is solid. I am going to be so rich!

It's Always Sunny on TV

The best stuff happens to people on TV. It makes me wish I lived inside inside my TV. No one seems to be able to relate to my feelings except a local homeless guy who uses a burnt out Zenith for shelter. In any event I am thrilled because in six days It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia starts back up. Happy Day!

I wish I was this clever!

Craigslist Ad that was just pulled:

Wanted: a roommate who pays rent in cookies: "The rent is $1 per month, utilities included, as long as you bake me fifty (50) tasty cookies every day by 6 p.m. If you have not completed this task by 6 p.m., I will pour vinegar on all your belongings, throw them into the street, and have the locks changed...I will decide the specific type of cookie the day before and will submit my preference in writing..." [Craigslist]

The vinegar is such a nice touch. It really shows the dichotomy of this guy's personality. ON the one side he is sweet(cookies) but on the other sour (vinegar). He obviously has been hurt before.

Fuck Facebook

I am a complete narcissist. My obsession with myself can be described as painful, but even I think it is pathetic how people update facebook every two seconds with what they are doing or their mood. No one cares. In protest I have decided to pull my profile. I realize as I write this no one cares about that either.

Blog Roll

I am planing to update the blogroll in a few minutes. Add all the stuff that keeps my broken mind busy in a day. Before I do here is a site I kind of like, Oobject. So many lists to keep my OCD going!

Blogging Goodfellas Style

Good day blogging today?
Yeah
Blog about a lot?
Yeah
Tell me about this letter from Blogger. It says you haven't been blogging in months! In months! Think you are so smart? You're a bum! Want to grow up to be a bum????

On that note I am back!!!!
Fast forward to 5:39

So much in common

Today one of my co-workers who I normally don't talk to walked up to me and said, "Hey, Barry, I hear we have something in common." As soon as the statement was made I began to freak out. I have a guilty conscience. I immediately ran through all that we could have in common; stealing office supplies, cheating on taxes, banging his wife, etc, etc. Before I could squirm too long, he told me what it was. He said matter of factly, "I have an anal fissure and I hear you had one too." What an awesome thing to be known for in the work place. Yes it is true I did have an anal fissure a few years ago. I made some jokes about it at work so of course now everyone knows and thinks I am authority. I feel bad for the guy. It was the worst pain I have ever had in life. I gave him all the advice I could (doctor recommendation). Sadly I had to have surgery, but maybe he will get lucky and it will heal on its own. If you would like to learn more about my anal fissure adventures, click here.

Become an awesome lover with Soft Viagra

I have been getting inundated with emails lately regarding my prowess as a lover. I am not sure why but every email is for some soft form of medication. I assume they think I am an old man who either can't swallow or has no teeth. By using soft Viagra I can gum the pill until I have an erection.

This is the body of the email. I suggest not clicking the link:

From: Nacexo Riqeme
groups.google.com/group/we859dm7/web/gr5s

The new group of potential mercenaries had diverse specialties. Some were proficient at hand-to-hand combat against the thinking machines; others had developed more esoteric sabotage or destruction skills. All of them, though, were useful additions in the age-old struggle against Omnius.

I am beyond confused about the text. What does soft Viagra have to do with mercenaries?

Eye Twitch

For the past week my right eye has been quivering like it ate raw chicken. I have tried everything. Xanax, sleep, bananas for potassium, poking it with a finger, yet it still twitches. I have now decided it is time for a patch. I think it will make me look sophisticated.

Thoughts?

Simple yet effective

Things I did last night

Popped my earthquake cherry

After being in Los Angeles for seven years I finally experienced an earthquake. I sat at my desk as the ground shook around me. I thought the floor was going to open for the devil to take me home. No such luck.

The best part of the earthquake was the fact that I didn't bother to go under my desk or in a door jam. I just stared up at the rattling track lighting above my head with a stupid grin on my face. Safety first I always say.

Sixty Days

Today we said goodbye to my brother's 1971 Mercedes 280 SL. Sixty days exactly. Some might say it lasted longer than expected. Some might say a valuable lesson was learned. I prefer to believe that like the Death Star there will be two in the evil empire's lifetime.

We await your triumphant return.

Long live the SL

Step Brothers hits close to home

I saw Step Brothers this past weekend. You would think the premise would be hard to believe. Two forty year old men living with their respective parents, suddenly thrust into living together when their parents wed. It was like a modern day Brady Bunch. I am not even sure it was more dysfunctional than the Brady Bunch. I mean in this version at least the siblings don't want to fuck. I might be wrong about that though. To get to the point I loved the movie. I find I enjoy movies, books, etc when I can relate to the subject matter because of my own life experiences. For example, when Will Ferrell puts his balls on John C. Reilly's drum set (yes, you see balls), it reminded me of the time my brother wiped his dick across the head of my Super Mario Brother's cartridge and told me that he cleansed it. If that didn't bring up feelings of nostalgia, the scene where Will Ferrell uses a bath mat to wipe his ass because he ran out of toilet paper certainly did. Hey, I did live with my brother for three months. Oh the memories. Drop what you are doing and go see the movie now. It will make you miss your siblings or at the very least you will have some weird desire to see Mary Steenburgen naked.

Thank you for being a friend.

I just poured some beer on the floor for one of my homies.

Sophia, you will be missed.

For my next trick . . .

I had the pleasure of seeing Ricky Jay perform last night with his 52 assistants. There is so much to say I don't know where to start. I guess I could start with the fact that my brother insisted I get to his place no later than 3pm for the 8pm show so that he would have ample time to eat his weekly meal at Pizzeria Mozza. "We must go now!!!", he screamed in a Ritalin rage. So off we went to eat pizza while my brother read a book at the table. God forbid there was a lull in the conversation. He must be entertained!!! We had a good two hours to kill after our very early bird dinner so we drove around LA for a bit admiring the mid century homes that neither of us would ever be able to afford. Once the ride was complete we parked in Westwood and walked over to the Geffen playhouse to watch Ricky Jay. I was really hoping he was going to do some amazing card tricks that involved cutting things in half with the ace of clubs or at the very least giving my brother a shave with the eight of diamonds. Amazingly the greatest trick happened before the show even started. I sat out front next to a beautiful fountain. As I stared down at the coins that obviously represented some poor sap's dreams, I heard a squawk from above. As I looked up at a seagull I was splashed by something hitting the water. Was it a dead rat? Of course not. It was a chicken wing from what I assume was Popeye's. I guess the bird realized he was eating his own so he decided to drop it down to me as an offering. I have been hit by bird shit before but never a deep fried wing. It must be good luck.

The show was great. Ricky Jay opened a new deck of cards and did every trick you could imagine a person with card skills would do. The highlight for me was when he asked my brother to pick a card and remember it so he later could pull it out of a shuffled deck. The fear on my brother's face was priceless. Shit, can I remember it? What if he calls me on stage? My pants -- they have no buttons!!

It was a great night. Check him out if you have time.

Ricky Jay/

The Dark Knight - a review

Can I believe a man could dress up in Kevlar and fight crime - Yes
Can I believe with the right money you could have a batmobile - Yes
Can I believe a man might wear make-up and be a sociopath - Yes
Can I believe that two men, one being horribly disfigured, could love Maggie Gyllenhaal - Absolutely not!

Damn Email Groups

Every two weeks I send an invoice to my company's accounts receivable department asking for payment for the stellar work that I do. I have done this roughly fourteen times without issue. After sending out an invoice last week, it came as a shock to me to receive responses regarding my mental aptitude/pay rate from multiple graphic artists at my company.

Apparently I sent the following email with an attached invoice (detailing my pay) to the entire company's creative department:

Hi Linda,
Please find attached my invoice for 7/1 - 7/15.

Do you think you will be paying invoices this week? I have two due now. This will be my third submitted. I would like to catch up so there is only one outstanding at a time.

Thanks

Barry

Right there is some of my finest work.

Blog not dead but resentful

This blog is not dead. I have been busy lately with my real job playing pick up games of basketball at the local park. I sit in the stands while my friend hustles the local players into letting the white rube play. It aint easy being this good.

The 'lude

As many of you might remember, I had a 1989 Honda Prelude through most of my formidable years. The 'lude served me well on my many travels. Up and down the eastern seaboard it went without an issue. Who can forget how flawlessly it performed going to Key West during one of my college breaks. Sadly, after 220 thousand miles we were forced to part ways. Last I saw it was flying a Puerto Rican flag in Lodi. I kid. I am thinking about combining my love for nostalgia and my love for the Subaru Brat by buying this amazing vehicle.

Greatest Prelude of all time
Its not a Prelude, its not a truck, it's an amazing cruck!!!!!

Splash Too?

Has anyone heard of Splash Too?. I challenge the world to find me a person who has actually seen this movie.

American Ninja/Rollerblader

I enjoy spotting celebrities doing every day normal activites. I would assume seeing an actor buy groceries gives me the same kind of high a bird watcher gets when he sees a rare Strigiformes in a tree in his yard. "Oh look it is a Blakiston's Fish Owl." Anyway, I had my rare sighting on Friday when I saw none other than American Ninja himself, Michael Dudikoff roller-blading along the ocean in Hermosa. I decided this would be my first expereience in acosting an actor to tell them how impressed I was with their body of work, but alas by the time I turned around to sing the praises of his portrayal of a private in the army single-handedly taking on mercenaries in the Philippines, he was gone. Vanished like the ninja he so often portrayed. Maybe next time.

You failed me Mrs. Pearlmutter

I thought I mastered the English language. Oh, how I was wrong. My Achilles' heel is saying "coleslaw." For whatever reason I say, "co-slaw." I have failed linguists everywhere.

Over the weekend I also had trouble with the following:
Ed McMahon - called him "Egg McMahon"
Apparently - said "A Parrot lee"

*Mrs. Pearlmutter was my elementary school language teacher.

You Don't Mess with the Mrs. Edna Ann Garrett

Every once in a while a movie comes out that touches the soul. A movie that can do no wrong. That movie is You Don't Mess with the Zohan. It has been years since Adam Sandler truly entertained me. Actually it has been thirteen years. That is when Billy Madisoncame out. Granted now I can't sit through it, but at the time I felt it was pure genius. Mr Sandler must have reviewed the tape because I can feel the very essence of Billy Madison in the Zohan. To quote Billy, "Conditioner is better. I leave the hair silky and smooth." It is this line that drove the plot of You Don't Mess with the Zohan, What could be better than a movie about a ex Mossad agent who just wants to make the world silky and smooth by being a hair dresser. This is obviously why I am not working in Hollywood. It takes a true professional to come up with an idea this brilliant. I don't really want to give too much of the movie away because I feel it really deserves to make money, but I will leave you with two reasons alone to see it; Dave Mathews is a villain and the Zohan has relations with Edna Garrett.

See it, otherwise you are directly supporting terrorism.

Poaching at its worst

Poaching is the illegal hunting, fishing or harvesting of wild plants or animals. It may be illegal because:

The game or fish is not in season, usually the breeding season is declared as the closed season when wildlife species are protected by law.
The poacher does not possess a license.
The poacher is illegally selling the animal or animal parts or plant for a profit.
The animal is being hunted outside of legal hours.
The hunter used an illegal weapon for that animal.
The animal or plant is on restricted land.
The right to hunt this animal is claimed by somebody.
The means used are illegal (for example, baiting a field while hunting quail, using spotlights to stun or paralyze deer, or hunting from a moving vehicle, watercraft, or aircraft).
The animal or plant is protected by law or that it has been listed as extinct or an endangered (see for example the Endangered Species Act for the USA)
The animal or plant has been tagged by a researcher.

According to this definition I think I have a case.

My Seinfeld Post
Lame Copy

I am going to have to start writing more posts otherwise the wooden soldier will run out of ideas.

23

As some of you might know I have a $100 bet with a friend regarding which one of us will expire first. Simple rules: Whoever dies first will make provisions in their estate to have a hundred dollar bill put into their burial suit coat pocket so that when the friend who is alive pays his last respects he can take it out of coffin. Obviously this is how it will go down in theory. As of right now it is more likely for both of us to be buried in a corn field while wearing tuxedo tee shirts then for either of us to be buried in a coat, but I digress.

I am now officially 6% closer to my $100. According to the machine from the future, I at my worst am 17% fat. That is, as I was told by my friend, 32 pounds of butter. He laughed at my rotundness. Well said friend just came for a visit and was so sure he was less fat than me that he was willing to ride over to my gym so he too could find out his percentage. If the machine is to be trusted, he is 23% body fat. That is 42 pounds of butter.

I know it doesn't matter who is in the lead because it all comes down to who finishes first, or in this case last, but for now I will take my little victory.

Hey fatty, maybe they can bury you in a piano case.

Thief

I swear my old posts are being poached!!!

My gun range post

The copycat

You will be hearing from my lawyer.

Driving Miss Daisy

It was a cold wintery night in November 2006 when my brother decided to fork over a large sum of cash for a 1971 Mercedes 280 SL. He was thinking towards the future. A future of summertime cruising in a classic California convertible. Two months he was told until it would be restored to pristine condition. Flash forward eighteen months, it was finally ready. We drove out there yesterday. The car looked beautiful. Only one question was asked by my brother: "Should we ArmorAll the tires before we leave?" The salesman, and I use the term loosely, asked Lewis if he would like to take it for a test drive before he signs off on the fact that he will never call him again to badger him about why the car took an additional sixteen months. Only one word was uttered by my brother, "Naaaa." On that note Lewis didn't want to drive it at all. I drove it and him around for basically the first 50 miles. Every once and awhile he would call a friend so we could go to their house to show it off.

"Lewis, Lewis the car is amazing. Why aren't you behind the wheel?"
Soon was the only response given. After a few hours of driving I put the automobile in a tiny one car garage owned by Lewis's landlord. It very much felt like the final scene in Raiders when the ark of the covenant is loaded into a crate and put away for storage.

Judging by the size of the garage, I am figuring the car will not move until the next time my brother wants me to take him for a ride. Based on the skittish behavior around his new toy I figure it will soon be mine. I have put together a timeline in pictures of the car's future. Enjoy!!


Day 1 - only 50 miles on it


Don't worry, it will clean up fine.

Novelty gone. Left for dead.

If you can catch this thing, you can catch greased lighting.

Has anyone seen Rocky II lately? It was on cable last night and I caught about 30 minutes of it before my brain went into full shut down. In those 1800 seconds I saw the following:
1. Rocky running down the street with every kid in Philidelphia chasing him.
2. Rocky working out doing sets of 50.
3. Rocky chasing a chicken.
4. Adrian waking from her coma and telling Rocky she wants him to win.
5. Carl Weathers' mustache.

If it wasn't for the stache I don't think this movie would have been made.

And I'm Ron Burgundy. Go fuck yourself, San Diego.

I am down in La Jolla for the weekend. As if you care. Ehhh, doubtful.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Gumball Machine

I have finally decided on my vehicle of choice for the Gumball 3000. It is . . .drum roll please. . . an Audi R8 V12 TDI. Since gas is so expensive I felt running a diesel would make economic sense. Also driving a diesel sports car makes me feel like we are in some sort of post apocalyptic world. If I get the Audi, I plan to dress up as Lee Majors and reenact The Last Chase scene for scene. Now if I could only find out what Chris Makepeace is doing.

Friendship takes a turn for the worst

I may not be a genius but I do know you should never mix friends with money. I can think of many a time when a friendship jumped the shark because of some sort of financial transaction. I remember the time my father sold my best friend a Saab with questionable mileage. Fourteen years later I can still see the resentment in my friend's eyes. "Why did your father sell me a Saab with broken odometer and four mismatched tires?"

In recent weeks I had a fairly new friend tell me that he has an amazing business proposition for me and wondered when we could sit down to discuss. The first mistake is making new friends. I mean come on, I am 32, if I haven't met you by now there is no point. I digress. I gave my new friend a few hours on Sunday so he could explain to me how I could be RICH and retire in six months. I don't want to give away the product name out of fear that this new friend might read my blog, but lets just say it is a juice being sold in a multi-level marketing program. No, no, no, not Amway. Not Quixtar either (I am not that smart. I have to look all this stuff up.) It kind of sucks because my friend was very passionate about the product and the multi-level marketing program and he could see I wasn't buying it. He thought I was out of my mind when I told him it wasn't for me or two people I know and two people they know and two people they know. After a few very awkward moments my friend accepted defeat and we went to dinner. I haven't heard from him since.

To the point

Sticker on the back of a car:

Stink Eye

Today at lunch I had the pleasure of receiving the stink eye from a baby. It was like his eyes saw all and in his soul he knew I was evil. Everyone at my table felt it as well. "Dude that baby is giving you the stink eye." After a few moments my table got the wiff of what only could be strained peas in a diaper. To my relief it wasn't the stink eye after all. He just liked to have eye contact while shitting. All is well in the world.

Down the hatch

The other night my coworker and I were driving around Atlanta when we passed a place called Dante's Down the Hatch. I am not sure what possessed us, but we decided that based on the name alone we had to go there. So today after a long day of work or whatever you call it we returned. The maitre'd, who looked like he hadn't seen a live customer since 1892, asked us if we would like to sit on the ship or at a regular table. So much confusion went through my head. I regret that after seeing the fondue bowl on our table I abandoned ship/restaurant. Please check out the website. You will see I was quite foolish. Think about the pirate stories I could have spun if only I stayed for a cheese plate. My loss.

Atlanta - View from my room

I have this overwhelming desire to run through the woods naked with my morning cup of coffee. I can return to nature as it was intended. If I could just figure out how to open this double paned window. Damn you, Crowne Plaza, for sealing me in.

Atlanta, here I come

Just when I thought I was out they pull me back in. Tomorrow at 12:35 I leave for Atlanta.

Can't wait to eat at Bennigan's.

"Discontent is the first step in the progress of a man or a nation” -- Oscar Wilde

Game On!

The game

I know this image is played out, but if all else fails it will be used.

Speaking of Ice Cream

My gym has a machine that you stand on and somehow it gives you your weight, height, and body fat percentage. Due to the fact that it makes buzzing sounds I can only assume the machine has come back from the future to kill me.

Two Scoops

The other night I went to Mashti Malone's for some ice cream. If I had to pick a place for the best ice cream in Los Angeles this would be it hands down, but that really isn't the point of my story. The ice cream parlor is in what I would call a questionable neighborhood. Due to prostitution activity in the area you are not allowed to park on the local side streets. With this in mind I knew that if I didn't get a spot in the Mashti designated area, I might be denied my peanut butter cup goodness. I pulled into the lot with Sarah and Monkey in tow and as luck would have it the only spot available was designated for the liquor store next door. I decided to ask the liquor store manager quite politely if he wouldn't mind terribly if I parked in his spot for a few moments while I ran in to get my delicious dessert. He begrudgingly gave me permission, so we parked, left Monkey in the backseat and off we went for sugar cones. Did I mention I love this place?

After a few moments of deciding on one scoop or two (heart attack or stroke), I found myself enjoying my cone while looking out the window. Not more than 30 seconds go by (three licks, tops), before an older Chevy Blazer comes flying into the parking lot, smoke billowing from the windows, spare tire chained to the roof, and driver clearly intoxicated. As he comes to a complete stop in front of my car, what might have been the entire Los Angeles police department has entered the lot. Before I know it, guns are drawn, the driver of the Blazer is laying face down in front of my car before being carried off in cuffs. After I was 90% sure that all guns were reholstered, I walked outside to see what was going on. I was slightly freaked out that while the police were screaming "on the ground" my dog never bothered sticking his head out the window to see what was going on. Hell, he didn't even wake up. Apparently the driver of the Blazer ran over a pedestrian a few blocks away and figured pulling in for an ice cream was the next logical step to his evening. As I stood there thinking how lucky I was that I had gotten into the lot before the cops blocked the entrance, things took a turn for the worse. Someone in the parking lot told me the Blazer clipped the front of my car before coming to a stop. Once again why didn't the dog wake up? Thankfully there was no damage to the dog or the car but I did give the police my info just in case. Right before I left, the liquor store manager came out and said, "I told you not to park in my spot." I love Los Angeles.
The dog in question

Progress

My mom has been down in the dumps lately. Something about her children being a huge disappointment. Not really sure. I wasn't listening. I did catch her say that she went and saw a therapist today. I asked her how it was hoping that some blame could be shifted. All she had to say was the parking lot was hard to get into. I think we are getting somewhere.