Chernobyl, the good side effects

Has anyone noticed how Russia produces nothing but insane tennis players and super models? I am now 100% convinced that we can attribute this growth spurt in hotness and athleticism to radiation poisoning. I have nothing to go on but science when I say this. I can prove my hypothesis with the help of American scientist Bruce Banner. First he was weak and not athletic, then he got a very large dose of gamma rays and suddenly he's ripped and in my opinion very handsome. I think I can say case closed but if for some reason you do not think my findings are accurate I present to you all the proof you need in the form of Ирина Шайхлисламова. She is on the cover of the new Sport's Illustrated swimsuit issue. I would not make her angry if I were you.

Happy Valentine's Day

Sell, sell, sell

I swear I read on my iPad while pooping that the Huffington Post was sold for $315 million to AOL. Now I don't want to tell Mr. AOL how to do his business, but he could have had The Barry Rides for half that. I mean the content is just about the same. Both are run by people who know nothing about politics. I don't really see a difference. I need to put together a business plan to sell this blog for the next time Compuserve calls me regarding that that fourteen year old delinquent bill. I feel a windfall coming my way.

Tough times, even for a Highlander

I was walking through my office parking lot today when I saw Connor MacLeod's broken down Mitsubishi Montero languishing in the sun. I knew the economy was bad, but I didn't know it was this bad. I have to assume the "one" lost his vast fortune with Bernie Madoff. There can be no other explanation for him driving such a shitbox. I mean even a regular bank account earning half a percent has to be worth millions after a few hundred years. He should have at least enough money to buy a Nissan or a Honda by now.

How to Lose a Guy - Day 5

OK, so this didn't play out as we initially planned. Since neither Barry nor I have have ever had any trouble losing a significant other and since we can't realistically suggest actually becoming either of us, we're at a loss when trying to come up with ways of how to make yourself repellent to the opposite sex.

That said, here's a suggestion that's been kicking around my head for awhile, fake diarrhea.

You see, years ago I came up with the idea that I wanted to take a can of Hormel® Chili into a bar that had a one-toilet bathroom, and dump the chili all over over the toilet seat and bowl so that it looked like some scumbag crapped all over the place. Sure that sounds awful, but the zinger was that I wanted to then smear some of the chili on the inside doorknob of the bathroom so that when someone, confronted with this abomination, tried to flee in disgust with this horrific image still burnt in their mind, would end up grabbing what they thought was a doorknob full of anonymous feces. Sure, some of you will debate whether a hand full of Hormel® Chili is worse than one full of excrement, but at least the FDA has deemed the chili to be safe for human contact (this may change after the recent laws that strengthen the FDA's purview).

Anyway, I think a strategically spilled can of chili can solve the boyfriend issue. After all, you be the judge....

It's Award Season

They announced the Oscar nominees the other day and I thought I'd get in on the action. However, since I'm a shut-in and don't get to see movies until they're shown as UPN's late-night movie, I can't really write about the current crop of pictures. Instead I'd like to present a list of my 5 favorite portrayals of mentally retarded people:


5) Leonardo DiCaprio in What's Eating Gilbert Grape. Honestly, based on his performance in this film I actually thought Leonardo DiCaprio had non-disjunction, that is, until I saw Blood Diamond - no way a retarded person could do a South African accent that well.


4) Sean Penn in I am Sam. He was so retarded in this movie that if you get pregnant within 2 days of seeing him in this, your baby will be 100% special.


3) Chris Burke in Life Goes On. To be honest, he deserves #1 but it was a TV role so it gets less credit. FYI, I hear that he's into method acting and doesn't break character, even between takes.


2) Keanu Reeves in his entire career. I don't know who his agent is, but Keanu's really gotten typecast. He should try acting in a non-retarded role one of these days.


1) Tom Hanks in Philadelphia. You can't argue with success. After all, he did win an Oscar for this role as a retarded lawyer who bravely sued his former employers for wrongful dismissal after they discovered that he was retarded. Tom Hanks even lost 26 pounds in order to be more convincing as a retarded person. Now that's what I call acting.

How to loose a guy - Day 4

I have to say coming up with ten ways to ditch a guy is harder than I thought. I mean most men are stupid. In fact if you say hello to most guys they will think you love them. Case in point I think Guadalupe, the cleaning woman in my office wants me because she said "que basura" to me as I left yesterday. I have no clue how she plans to break up with me, but I can tell you it better not be a work. That is my place of business and I need to be professional there.

I have been going back and forth on what the best method would be to have someone ditch you and I usually come back to sex with a black man (see previous day posts). Since I don't know any girls who will have sex with black men or any girls for that matter I am going to throw out my second choice which is to shit your pants in front of your boyfriend's friends by sharting (shit/fart). Then tell everyone how awesome it was and that you are wearing a thong. I am pretty sure you will be single by night's end.

Jake - Day 5 is all you.

Greatest Video Ever

Anyone remember when MTV used to show videos?

In the beginning of MTV, I remember that there were only a handful of videos to show, mostly Rod Stewart or Cheap Trick promotional concert clips that were shot in the '70s. Once the channel caught on though, music videos became recognized as an art-form in their own right. They were mostly still crap, but at least the bands tried to create some sort of narrative or theme. Then Thriller came out and everything changed. Suddenly, videos became more and more elaborate, they had plots, helicopters, explosions and sequels. Jay Z was Big Pimpin on a yacht the size of the love boat and Lisa "left eye" was turning into the water creature from "The Abyss". Sure the spectacle was entertaining, but it became a little soul-less. No one cared about the music anymore, it was all about who had the bigger budget or the coolest car in the video.

That's why I'm happy to present a real music video by Public Enemy, not only is the song fucking awesome, but it looks like it was shot while Chuck D helped Flavor Flav move out of the apartment he occupied over the Chicken Delight on the Babylon Turnpike. This is the definition of Keeping it Real.

*I particularly love the footage of Chuck D throwing lumber in a dumpster, and pushing Flavor around in a shopping cart from King Kullen.

Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted. - MLK

How to Lose a Guy - Day 3

1: Click on the image below to open it in its own full-size window.

2: Print the image onto glossy photo-paper.

3: Frame the image and place it on your nightstand.



Relationship over.

How to lose a guy - Day 2

"The problem is all inside your head", she said to me
The answer is easy if you take it logically
I'd like to help you in your struggle to be free
There must be fifty ways to leave your lover
-Paul Simon

50 ways indeed, 51 if you happen to look like Paul Simon. Which leads us to method #2:

Explain to your boyfriend that you have a very specific sexual fetish that involves the both of you dressing up as Simon and Garfunkel during intercourse (you need to refer to it as intercourse, the more clinical your description, the better). It doesn't really matter who's who (although you could mention that you prefer to be Simon), what is of vital importance though, is that you each wear your respective character's wig (crafted entirely from your cat's old hair), and that you always stay in character

(that is sing along to Live in Central Park, and look each other in the eyes during the lyrics to 'Old Friends').

"Can you imagine us years from today; sharing a park-bench quietly? How terribly strange to be seventy."

After that revelation, nature should take its course.
Interestingly enough; this is supposed to be the reason behind the real Simon & Garfunkel's break-up.

How to lose a guy in ten days

Today a blogger friend came to me on bended knee and begged me to give her advice on how to break up with her boyfriend. She was previously smitten but now of course hates his guts. When she told me she was going on vacation tomorrow, but would see him one last time tonight, my advice was to let him throw it in one more time and dump him when she got back. Why do today what you can put off till tomorrow? On a serious note, she got me thinking, how can a girl ditch a guy that she no longer wants to make sweet coitus with? We here at the Barry Rides have decided to do five minutes of research and report back to all you hapless women on how to ditch your losers to get with heroes. Over the next ten days we plan to give you a new idea daily until our grand finale that may or may not involve Hormel Chili. So without further adieu, method one:

Hang a framed picture of Wesley Snipes from Demolition Man above your bed. Make no mention of it. If asked, say it has been there the whole time and dump him instantly for being so unobservant.


Your Welcome!

More tomorrow.

The Barry Rides now has a sponsor

For the last year, a select few companies have been courting the management at the Barry Rides in the hopes that we would allow them to advertise on the site. You see in the world of blogging, you are either on the Barry Rides or you aren't. After much consideration we decided to let a small family owned bean manufacturer be our first sponsor. Let me be the first to introduce you to the world's greatest beans, Armenibeans. You see in the world of beans you are either made with back hair or you aren't.


Thanks Armenibeans for keeping the lights on.

New Year's Resolution: Go Green!

Barry's post about the Deuce Candle got me thinking about some of the other business ideas that we've been kicking around at TheBarryRides and since it's January 1st, I'd like to suggest a New Year's resolution for the readers of this blog; I think it's time you went Green.

We've all heard Al Gore tell us about the trees and the polar bears, fuck 'em. I've got a better reason for why you should make going green this year's goal: the sense of superiority it gives you over other people.

I can't tell you how good it feels to stand in the check out line of my grocery store and scowl at the other shoppers as they pack their high fructose corn syrup-based soft drinks into their plastic bags. When the check out person asks "paper or plastic" I love to smugly say, "Oh no, I've got my own", and let me tell you, it's a doozie; a fair-trade, unbleached canvas number with a recycled logo on the side - just in case one of those dumb animals at the store didn't get the hint that I love the environment. Sometimes, I even carry a yoga mat around in it and drink water from an aluminum canister that I've attached to the strap with a carabiner. However, the problem I've became faced with is; how can I find a way for people like me to enjoy this rush of superiority even when we're not at the grocery store. Sure there are other things I do; I buy packages of compact fluorescent bulbs so I can be seen throwing them out by my neighbors, and I bought a Civic Hybrid badge on craigslist that I've attached to my car's trunk panel so it looks like I drive a low emissions vehicle, but that's small time, I wanted something that really screams "I'm better than you" to my neighbors and fellow community members. Then it dawned on me, and I'm willing to let you all in on the ground floor of this: Fake Solar Panels.

BOOM, that sound you just heard was you cuming in your pants.

Think about how righteous you could be if you had solar panels on your house. Sure your neighbor just used Obama's tax credits to put weather-stripping on their windows, or new storm doors, or some shit, but come on, really? You've got fucking solar panels on your roof! That's like having Ed Begley Jr blow you during the Superbowl Halftime show. The problem has always been that solar panels are really expensive, and while they may elevate your social status, the cost hasn't yet justified the return as it relates to holier-than-thou superiority - until now. What I'm proposing is a super-realistic facsimile of a solar panel, except that it's made out of cardboard and that it actually does nothing except convey the sort of self-contentedness that could only be previously obtained by riding shotgun in Sean Penn's Katrina rowboat.

There it is, let The Barry Rides climb up on your roof, so you can climb up on your high horse. So lets hear it for 2011-Making The Keeping It Green®.

Happy New Year Motherfucker

Time marches on. This is the year to become rich. I am taking all ideas seriously.

Business Idea #34
Deuce shaped candles that smell like chocolate or possibly lilac. You strategically place them around your bathroom to cover up the smell of the bean burrito that just left your body. Imagine having a date over. Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom. She walks in to see a burning log sitting on the toilet tank. In her horror she catches a wiff of cocoa. If you don't score in the confusion, you never will.

Anyone have a candle making kit?

Please imagine any of these gentlemen having sex with you.

Friedrich Nietzsche once wrote that "the advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time". While this may be true, I think he missed the real advantage of a bad memory - that we are allowed to forget the truly unpleasant things that happen to us. Imagine what the world would be like if memories didn't fade, imagine walking around with every trauma, every insult, every embarrassment still fresh in your mind like it just happened. Unpleasant no?

Now imagine having John Travolta, Judd Hirsch, and Tony Danza all banging you... and know that this memory wasn't going to fade. Welcome to the hell that is Marilu Henner's life. I actually hesitate to call it hell, as I doubt that Dante himself, could have dreamt up such an awful existence.

Last night on 60 Minutes it was revealed that Marilu Henner suffers from Hyperthymesia, the unfortunate condition where one can remember nearly everything that happens to them in astonishing detail. That she carries on with her life is a testament to her strength and bravery. While I've always enjoyed her role in Johnny Dangerously, I've never really given her the credit that I now think she deserves. I think it's safe to say that most of us, if faced with the same existence, would have performed a Rosemary Kennedy-style lobotomy on ourselves after Judd Hirsch alone.

Finally, we can get some important work done...

***Spoiler Alert - there is some vulgarity in this post, but it's all for science.***

Google recently released a new tool that allows users access to millions of digitized books published over several centuries so that they can search how frequently a word, or several words, appeared over time. The implications of this sort of technology are immense; students, researchers and even lay-people now can plug in words or simple phrases and gauge what authors, as a whole, were thinking at various times.
We can now make charts that measure the "published zeitgeist" and from that, gain a better understanding of how opinions were trending. For instance, the chart below illustrates the historical frequency of the more polite words "penis" "vagina"against the courser, more offensive "dick" and "pussy" between the years: 1920 and 2008.



Upon review of the data it becomes clear that somewhere around 1980 the publishing community became over-run with vulgar animals, as use of the more genteel/clinical nouns began to level off, and published instances of the harsher terms started to tick up (of course this study was hastily assembled and its implications haven't yet been fully explored, it is possible that beginning in the 1980's there was a jump in Richard Nixon biographies and cat ownership, the Barryrides research staff will conduct a follow-up study to confirm this. However, based on projections from this data, it is reasonable to believe that in another 10-15 years medical texts will trade the words "penis and vagina" for "dick and pussy" - completely reasonable).
Another quick illustration of the awesome potential for this tool can be found in the chart below which attempts to pin down when a Clint Eastwood/Monkey movie would most likely be made:



One can see that while over time, "Clint Eastwood" references in published literature (indicated by the blue line) remained relatively flat, while use of the word "monkey" (shown in red) peaked in 1976. With interest in Clint Eastwood and Monkeys at their respective all-time-highs, one would expect Hollywood to take notice, therefore it should come as no surprise that in 1978, the film "Any Which Way but Loose" was released (script approval, filming, and distribution would account for the 2 year gap).

The possibilities for this technology are limitless, more studies to come...

It's time for the holiday card...

From the Barryrides family.

Biking

It's been a really long time since I have ridden a mountain bike but after watching this video no less than five times today and I think it is time to start again.

FRAMED-Andi Wittmann Rider profile from Felix Urbauer on Vimeo.

Point/Counterpoint

It was with great excitement that I read Barry's review of the new Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson film "Faster", which is why it brings me no joy to write the following review.



Look closely, if the turd in this picture had a Samoan tattoo, it would be "Faster" in a nutshell. Barry now owes me $7.50 and an apology.

Somebody please kill my brother

Faster - the review

Last night I saw a movie that made me wish long and hard that someone would kill my brother. Not for the obvious reasons that anyone reading this might think, but for the sheer chance that if someone one killed him I could go on a killing spree to avenge his murder. After watching Faster I never wanted my brother dead more, that and I want to be a 6'4 half black, half samoan man.

I want to live inside this movie. The best scene is when Kenneth Wurman says, "You shit on my house", as the Rock puts a bullet into his head. With the exception of the fact that Billy Bob Thorton somehow ended up on the screen I would say it was the best movie of 2010. I really felt for the characters. I might have even cried when it was over. Go see it right now!

New Show Idea

I want to pitch a new show, so if you know any high power Hollywood types please let me know.
Here's the show idea.
Situational Comedy - 30 Minutes
Mom - Jewish
Dad - Jewish
Kids - Twins - Also Jewish. One is super smart and the other is athletic. Haven't decided but one can be a boy and the other a girl.
Time Period - 1941
Location - Germany - Concentration Camp.

Too soon? Now don't get all upset. Think of all the hi-jinx that could ensue. I am picturing an episode where the daughter brings home the love of her life to meet her dad. Oh yeah he's a Nazi. Man, I think I struck gold.

Championshit Edition

Apparently there is a meme going around on YouTube that involves setting funny or kooky videos to the Guile soundtrack from Street Fighter II.
I caught wind of this recently and upon viewing some of the entries found myself pretty disappointed. A typical lame example follows:




I mean that's kind of amusing or whatever, but I feel that such a solid premise is worthy of so much more. The music just seems so emotional.
So with that in mind I produced my own, more dramatic version:

To Kill a Mockingbird

Ohio police reportedly found the bodies of three missing people stuffed into a hollowed out tree. Sure some of you are probably thinking that Boo Radley's to blame. And why not, after all, he loves stuffing creepy shit into hollowed out trees. Sadly though, the real perpetrator has been apprehended and it turns out it was one of the Keebler Elves.



It seems that sales started slipping after the whole "trans-fat" controversy, so the elves converted the cookie factory into a meth lab and things have gone down hill since.

Cultural Zeitgeist

There's a lot going on in the world, but I think this pretty much sums it up.

Schreck 5

Julius Schreck - Dead Nazi

Today, the NY Times reported that for the last four years, the Justice Department has been trying to conceal the fact that the US government provided safe-haven to Nazis after World War II. The 600+ page document goes into great detail about how hundreds of former Nazis were allowed to immigrate to the United States, and in some instances, were given assistance in concealing their identities. I cannot easily express how angry this makes me.

The fact that our government would hide this from us for so many years sickens me, not as an American, not as a Jew, not even as a moral person, but as an amateaur Nazi-Hunter. Hell, according to the report, an SS officer named Tscherim Soobzokov was allowed to live in Paterson, NJ until Mossad killed him with a letter bomb in 1985. PATERSON, NEW JERSEY! That's only 10 miles from where I grew up! That's like finding out that your neighbor had the last known unicorn living in his backyard - a week after it died.

Nazis are becoming increasingly rare, and therefore more and more precious. That the government hid the fact that there were so many Nazis living amongst us is an outrage. Barry and I have both dreamt that one day, we'd be able to abduct a former Nazi from their home (or place of business) and bring them to justice in Israel, sadly, due to our government's lies, that dream is unlikely to be realized.

Each day that our leaders continue this deceit, we lose more Nazis to natural causes. Hasn't this gone on for long enough? I believe that the poet John Greenleaf Whittier put it best, "For all sad words of tongue and pen, The saddest are these, 'It might have been' ".

Lotto time

It has come to my attention that the current lotto jackpot is $140 million. With a payout that high I feel justified in fantasizing about all the evil things I will make my friends do for money when I win. Sadly though, my dreams of making people eat poop have been trumped by Jake's plan for me if he wins. As of two days ago, if Jake wins his plan is to make me get a full back tattoo of famous ventriloquist dummies banging my mom.

The best part is I don't think he plans to pay me to get the tattoo. I think he is going to use his new financial resources to make me get it.

Thankfully I am going to win so I have nothing to worry about.

Breaking the law old school

I will be the first to admit I text while driving. It is like a sickness. I rather use my fat Mickey Mouse hands to type idiotic messages when I should be looking at the road than actually have to hear another human's voice. It's just one more way for me to really feel connected with my iPhone. Don't judge me. Anyway, I was driving while texting the other day when I looked up right before crashing to see a guy in another car reading a magazine while driving. I really have to commend this guy. He had the magazine in one hand and the wheel in the other. I could see his eyes darting from the byline to the traffic (me) in front of him. It was like he almost crashed into me from the past. He is the last hold out to text while driving, sort of like I am the last hold out to join facebook. He is my hero of the day.

Who you trying to get crazy with, don't you know I'm loko?

6 cans of beer + 5 cups of coffee = Awesome

James Bond had the martini, Hemingway supposedly enjoyed mojitos. This sophisticated gentleman seems to prefer a cool can of Four Loko.

I just read that police in Washington state busted up a college party where several kids had to be hospitalized. Initially, the cops thought that the kids had been given roofies, but it turns out they were just drinking Four Loko. Apparently, college kids call this stuff "Blackout in a Can" because it offers all the alcohol of a six-pack plus all the caffeine of 5 cups of coffee.

Personally, I've never tasted the stuff, but fortunately I live in a marginal neighborhood where I'm sure it's available in one of the local bodegas that sell expired milk and generic cat food. Now the only question is whether to go with Grape or Watermelon.

Welcome to another edition of Thunderdome...

A friend of mine had a colonoscopy today and told me that after the procedure he was put in "the fart room". Apparently, in order to get the camera up your ass and get a clear picture, they have to fill your colon with air. Then, when everything's done they stick you in a dedicated fart room so you can purge all the air out of your intestines. The way my friend described it sounded surreal, since they sedate you beforehand, you find yourself waking up alone in a half stupor listening to your own prolonged farts with your pants around your knees.

The funny thing is, today I went to a new Korean fried-chicken place in my neighborhood and had the same experience.

Posting Sucks

I have lost total interest in posting. I am waiting for the next great thing to arrive. Facebook, Twitter, it all has been done. I am thinking maybe something like I poop into a old style rotary phone and the phone translates the poop texture into words that get sent over the interweb. Man, that is some serial killer shit. In any event today you must pay tribute to me because thirty five years ago at this exact moment I was born.

Feel free to send gifts via paypal.

Am I the only one that paid attention to The Terminator?

Today, the New York Times reported that students at Carnegie Mellon have built a computer that goes out on the internet and teaches itself how to learn. Are you fucking kidding me? Didn't anyone pay any attention to the plot of the Terminator, because if I remember correctly, this is exactly how it fucking happened!

Also, maybe I'm a little old fashioned, but if we're gonna just hand the keys over to our future overlords, maybe we want them to be educated by something other than the internet? After all, wasn't it the internet that gave us "2 Girls, 1 Cup" and Chocolate Rain.

(Ok, I might be able to deal with being plugged in Matrix-style in order to support the future works of the Chocolate Rain dude)

Somehow, I fear that this sort of thing, is not going to be the part of the internet that informs the objectives of our new computer masters.

Stupid kid

Sizzlean

It's nice to see that someone out there recognizes how important Sizzlean was in making me the man I am today. I assume this was for me at least.

D Listed recognizes Sizzlean

Might be dying

In the last week or so, I have been getting massive headaches daily. The only logical conclusion I can come up with is that Hervé Villechaize put a ceti eel in my ear at the prodding of Khan. Okay, that might have been too obscure of a reference. I do have a bad headache though. I am thinking the big one could be coming or my head hurts because I can't stop wondering if it is possible for Superman to have a bout of diarrhea. Seriously does he take perfect shits every time? Maybe if he ate some kryptonite or something it would have the same affect on him as Mexican food on me. Just a thought. Man my head hurts.

Googled "Superman taking a dump" to find this image

Child Labor Laws

This morning I saw this sign hanging up in my local Mexican juice bar. I know that sentence makes no sense. Mexican juice? The sign is awesome because I would like to believe one of the following is true:
A. There is five year old that owns his own business
B. A mother made it who is using her child in a sweat shop
C. Taylor Negron is the kid's name
D. I find racist jokes to be the funniest of all jokes

The names and faces have been changed to protect the totally awesome

This last week I went down the shore to LBI in search of Snooki and JWOWW, instead I came across this old scum-bag and his "niece". Not sure what their scene was all about, but the entire night she alternated between dancing for him and grinding his thigh like it was a rocking horse while everyone in the bar watched. I like to imagine that he's the Brad Wesley of LBI, shaking down business owners (and generally ruling the small town) with equal parts ruthlessness/style.


Sadly though, he probably wasn't anywhere near that cool, and sadder still, nobody ended up getting their throat torn out that night. Bottom line, it's like Dalton says, "If you're gonna have a pet, keep it on a leash."

Actual words that left my mouth today

"I hate Priuses with handicap plates. Why do these old fucks care about saving the environment?"

The best part of the statement is my assumption that all old people are handicap, that and I have no idea what the plural of Prius is.

True Story

Sometimes, they turn into aliens.

Sorry that's not mine, I just figured none of you would recognize the joke since there are only thirty of you. Anyway so last Saturday I was driving around, minding my business and cruising through a green light at 40 miles an hour, when I was suddenly interrupted by an F-150 that was also passing through the intersection but from a strange angle.

Don't crash me bro!

As the left rear of my truck was lifted into the air during that brief moment, I thought to myself, that's curious, surely this guy has a good excuse for such buggery. As it turns out, he had a great excuse; he was shit-ass drunk.

Shitty. Shittier than Charles Krauthammer's pajama legs. Shittier than Repo Men even.

I took charge of the situation and pulled over so we could exchange information and wait for the police to arrest him. He thusly hauled ass and got away.

Embarrassed by my own naiveté, and also by the forehead-slapping laughing drivers passing me, I decided to take the law into my own hands. I mumbled something about liberals while I slipped on my Rorschach mask (mentally) and drove off into the night (the day) to locate and bring my assailant to justice (find him and immediately call 911).

Police composite sketch of my
attacker, enhanced and tattooed
on my leg for effect

My aptitude for detective work paid off when I finally found him, parked in the driveway of his house about 200 yards down the same street. Heart racing, I watched as he jumped out of his truck, leaving the door open to spill beer cans onto the pavement while he ran inside.

Summoning every ounce of courage I had, I ducked under the dash and called the police.

Two squad cars arrived within minutes, sparing me from having to battle my adversary alone. I let them take the lead, and took a sip of my Diet Mountain Dew as they drew their pistols and stalked up to the front door. I figured I'd let them handle it from this point as I'd done quite enough already.

Gunshots rang out, followed by the screams of a woman, as the bullet-riddled body of a police officer flew through the front window and landed in the grass with a lifeless thud. Without hesitating I reached for my Mack-11 and switched it to full-auto, jumping out of my truck and rolling over the hood in one smooth motion before bounding across the lawn and into the house. Obviously this paragraph is bullshit and for that I'm sorry.

What actually happened was far less dramatic. The cops walked out with the suspect, spoke to him for a few minutes, then put the cuffs on. One cop drove him away while the other one took down my information. As far as the other guy's information, some choice bits include 1. no insurance, 2. no license, and 3. no papers. So yeah, he's probably getting deported.

I felt a pang of guilt thinking about that last part as I drove home. Not because I was responsible for it, but because I was drinking a beer.

Lost 17 pounds and I don't have cancer or AIDs.. yet

So I was at the doctor today when she (Yes, I said she. I know, crazy right? Like a woman could actually go to med school. That is just silly.) tells me that I have lost seventeen pounds in the last year. I am pretty sure my fitness level has now made me invincible. As the female doctor handed me my presidential fitness award I got a bit teary. When I was nine doing those flexed arm hangs in gym class I dreamed of this day. I am just a bit sad that President Regan wasn't with us to give me the award himself.


I have been working out more than usual but I can't take all the credit, a lot of it has to do with Jenny Craig, throwing up and snorting creatine. Without it I would still be fat.

Shame for the Barry Rides

Today a friend told me she was setting up a blog to keep track of life lessons for her daughter. Something about don't swallow on the first date, never let him see your prescription for Herpicin, and if he is asleep his wallet is fair game. I helped her navigate her way through blogger since I am kinda a big deal at Blogger headquarters and guess how does she repay me. She tells me that under no circumstances will her wholesome life lesson blog be linked to The Barry Rides. It was like she removed her glove and slapped me across the face with it. I haven't been this hurt since I got my anus bleached. I don't understand what could be wrong with linking The Barry Rides to a blog about life lessons for little girls. I mean seriously my feelings are hurt. If I wasn't drunk I would cry.

I need justice for Omar

I take one sixty hour break over three months only to find out that Jake decided to use his blogging privileges to write about how bad he smells and his career ambition to be a gypsy cab driver. I say no more!!! It is time for me to write about what is important, like what I did with my hiatus. During my brief time away I had my asshole bleached and I watched all sixty episodes of The Wire. It could possibly be the best TV show ever made and has helped me narrow down what I want to be when I grow up or I get fired from my current job; murder police or bandit that specializes in robbing drug dealers. Really those should be the only two choices for all people. It is a tough call. On the one hand I get a gun. Wait a minute. . . This is tougher than I thought. While I decide, run out to your local RKO Video and get The Wire on VHS. It will be the best sixty hours of your useless life.


This post is dedicated to Colleen. She has loved The Wire since before it was cool to like black people.

Taking the Plunger

” I have less patience with someone who doesn’t wear a watch than with anyone else, for this type isn’t time conscious”
- Alex Haley quoting Malcolm X in the epilogue of 'The Autobiography of Malcolm X'

Sometimes I'm amazed by the things that some people can make due without. I'm not talking about the ascetic that renounces material possessions and sets off to live in a cave, nor do I mean those smug bastards that love to tell people "I don't own a television". No, I'm referring to those people that seem to go throughout their daily lives without the things we normally take for granted as necessities for living in modern society. I have a friend that lived on his own for 5+ years without owning plates or cutlery, he just ate takeout and drank bottled water all the time (he may have had a coffee mug that also served as a cereal bowl, but I can't say for sure). I used to know a guy that lived in a corrugated steel shed up in the mountains of Arizona and didn't own a toothbrush or soap. Of course there are a ton of reasons why someone might find themselves living like this: poverty, mental illness, raised by wolves, etc.. but sometimes you come across someone that's just clueless.

Years ago I had a neighbor that I didn't especially like. She wasn't a terrible person or anything, just not the type of person that you want to live next door to in an 100+ year old building that has thin walls. For the first few months she lived next to me I thought she must have been a single mother with a retarded infant, turns out she just had a cat that she liked to speak to. Anyhow, one night I was awakened by some loud banging on my apartment door at 1am. I opened the door to find my neighbor looking embarrassed, "Do you have a plunger I can borrow?" she asked, now I'm not a germophobe or anything, but this was a pretty intimate request from a relative stranger and it kind of caught me off guard. Not only did I not know her well enough to share that sort of bond with her, but honestly, she was built like a mack truck and I wasn't so sure I wanted the residue of anything that came out of her, sitting on the plunger that I kept in my bathroom. It being However, 1am and me being still half asleep I foolishly agreed to allow her to take one of my possessions, smear her feces all over it and then return it so that I could store it in my home. I'm a sucker, but I digress....

The thing I'm struck by is how can anyone in their right mind own a toilet but not a plunger? The sheer hubris it must take to think that one doesn't need a plunger is staggering. It's like driving around with out a spare tire, or performing a high-wire act without a net. Getting this glimpse into the inner workings of her mind terrified me. How could I feel safe living next to such an irresponsible person? In the months after this horrible exchange I would often return to my building expecting to see a fire crew cleaning up after some horrible gas explosion that she caused by leaving her stove on, or something equally horrifying.

Although she moved out of the building before she could do any real damage, her plunger request has left an indelible mark on my brain. While Malcolm may not be able to suffer fools who waste other's time, I cannot abide living near animals that foolishly tempt fecal fate by not owning a plunger. It's as if they have a naive sense of entitlement that leads them to believe that their toilets will always accept whatever they try to put down them. It's wrong and dangerous, and in my book, that shit don't flush.

Be responsible.

This Wheel's on Fire

Back when I was young, and cared about my appearance, Barry and I used to work out at a gym in Westwood, NJ that was frequented by a bunch of juice-head meatballs in stupidpants (Snookie, if you're reading this, it's the Westwood Raquet Club, I'm sure there are still plenty of jacked up goons there that are looking to woo an Italian princess like yourself). Anyway, back in my salad days, I wasn't so good with the whole deoderant thing and Barry used to frequently ask me if I left the meter on - that is, he thought I smelled like a cab driver. Well, as it turns out, what he was smelling wasn't my armpits, he was smelling my dreams... Yes, that's right, I'm thinking about getting a hack license and becoming a NYC cab driver.

You see, my salad days are over and now I'm primarily interested in the sort of food that has either been deep-fried, or involves copious amounts of Rolaids (AKA: jewish mints) to digest. So I was recently trolling through the various food blogs that I regularly read and came across a blog written by a woman that regularly jumps into cabs and instructs the drivers to take her to their favorite cheap food places. It dawned on me that this is a genius idea because cab drivers, as an ethnically diverse group, would probably know all sorts of cool, out-of-the-way spots that serve weird stinky food (I say stinky because have you ever smelled a cab driver? - see Barry's comment if you haven't). Then, after I thought about it a bit more, it occurred to me that being a cab driver would be awesome in its own right. So, assuming I actually go through with this stupidity, if in the future you climb into a cab and it's being driven by a white guy, it'll be be, maybe I'll take you to Katz's deli.

(by the way, the pic at the top is clearly taken from the spot across Houston Street near Katz's where cab drivers regularly park to take time off - also, if you've never smelled a cab driver, imagine what that guy smells like. Also, also, he's got fingers like sausage links (not breakfast sausages, I'm talking feast of San Gennaro sausage sandwich links))