I need a favor!

I just saw the commercial for this and just about pissed myself. It's called "Riding the Bus with my Sister." It stars Rosie O'Donell as a retard. Link:
http://www.cbs.com/specials/riding_the_bus_with_my_sister/
Please, someone, anyone, tape this for me. I need this. It's Sunday on Channel 2 at 9:00. I'll be at Mohegan Sun, losing my next mortgage payment. Have to be in MA this weekend, HOME OF THE...I'll stop, I don't want to alienate anyone. I need this taped. I'll let you watch it with me and smoke half of Canada. I beg of you all, help me. "I'm Special!"

I'm watching NBA playoffs right now and I swear I just heard them say, "Let's go to Larry Merchant courtside!" Of course, I'd just been having wishful thinking. Would be sweet though.
Fuck, Celts are going down 2-1 and 'Toine just punched someone. Suspension. Where's Larry Merchant.

A Good Death

I was watching some movie this weekend with Shal, and we started talking about what a "good death" was verse a "bad death", and then we started talking about what an "embarressing death" might be. This is always an interesting topic, one I've had many good drunken conversations about on the porch and at Arthurs.
The typical ideas of a good death are cliche. There's dying in bed, peacefully or while having sex. There's being surrounded by loved ones after a full, satisfying life. There is dying heroically bust stupidly, like A-Rod almost did while saving that young boy in Boston. To this, I say, "Bbbboooorrrriiiinnngggg!" The last moments of life should be exciting and honorable. Something that sends you into the void with a scream on your lips and adrenaline blowing out of every pore. Here's some examples:

Animals:
*Good: Being attacked by a grizzly bear, great white shark, tigers, or lions. Quick and horrifying.
*Bad: Attacked by killer bees, poisonous snakes, rats, or pirhanas. Seems like it would just take too long. No way to fight back either.
* Embarrassing: Mauled by kittens, rabbits, or hamsters. Death at the hands of a child's pet, no good! You may be asking how this could happen. Best way I figure it: slip, fall, and become incapacitated alone in your home. The little fuckers start to starve and resort to eating you. This happens more often than you'd think with the elderly and their pets. I hope.

Bar fights:
*Good: Biker bar defending your gals honor.
*Bad: Gay bar drunkenly trying to get head from the one straight guy in there.
*Embarrassing: Lesbian bar trying to get a three-some going with a couple butches.

Driving:
*Good: Drag racing.
*Bad: Drunk driving.
*Embarrassing: While receiving head from a transvestite.

Medical:
*Good: Donating a kidney to Tom Brady.
*Bad: Malpractice.
*Embarrassing: Infection resulting from penis or breast enlargement. Sex change was too obvious.

Music related:
*Good: Moshing at a Tool concert.
*Bad: Anything to do with Springsteen.
*Embarrassing: Falling out of the upper balcony at a Journey concert during "Wheel in the Sky" due to uncontrollable sobbing (Dan).

Sports:
*Good: Boxing. Bullfighting. Skydiving.
*Bad: Fastball to the head.
*Embarrassing: Celebrity boxing with Screech.

Sports Celebrities:
*Good: A fight with Gary Sheffield in right field at Fenway.
*Bad: Suicide pact with Donovan McNabb about next years Super Bowl.
*Embarrassing: Contracting AIDS from Derek Jeter (Chris Brown).

War:
Good: Charging a machine gun nest at Normandy Beach.
Bad: Getting tangled up in razor wire at Normandy Beach.
Embarrassing: Tripping and falling on your own bayonette during a re-enactment of Normandy Beach (Tom).

With a friend:
*Good: Tackling Chris Brown in front of a speeding Yankees team bus.
*Bad: Cracking skulls open on that fucking jetty at beach with Dan and Tony. Almost happened.
*Embarrassing: Contracting strange and fatal STD with Dave Ballsley while in Thailand.

Fishing:
*Good: Trying to reel in a giant Marlin and getting pulled overboard. Then speared by Marlin.
*Bad: Drunkenly falling off a fluke boat.
*Embarrassing: Dragged out to sea during cast surfing by a dolphin you were trying to copulate with (Rico).

Suicide:
*Good: Suicide bombing an Al Quada leadership meeting.
*Bad: Suicide in general.
*Embarrassing: Hanging yourself because you got caught fucking a chicken by your wife and had to kill her. This actually happened in Africa. Can't find the link, dammit.

I'm running out of gas here and am not even sure if this is funny. In closing, let me just remind everyone to eat their vegetables and excercise regularly cause disease is a sucky way to go. If you do contract a terminal disease, give me a call and we'll go camping in Alaska. Every morning we'll smear you with salmon and go trolling for grizzlies. I'll bring a video camera and record your final moments trying to fight off that killer bear. Then I'll sell it to Fox and split the money with whoever you choose. Cheers motherfuckers !

Monday's lunch

It's been an interesting week. Monday was our team lunch at work. That means the people on my "team" and our supervisor go out about every four months for lunch instead of having our team meeting. This is the meeting on Mondays which I constantly skip, but no way am I skipping lunch. We meet at 1:00 at an all you can eat buffet, Brazilian restaurant on 45th. Waiter asks if we would like drinks. Half the table is hung over, we all put on our best innocent faces and remain silent. My coworker Eulys, a Haitian woman in her late 20's says, "Lets get a bottle of Sangria!" My boss raises an eyebrow. Eulys looks at her, "What? It's just juice!" That line made her the hero of the day, and it was delivered with totally feigned innocence. A couple others pipe up with, "Sure, why not?" My boss shrugs and says okay. She doesn't give a shit. Been having a tough time. Mother died 9 months ago, father died 2 weeks ago, and her sister has some kind of cancer. Work is the absolute least of her concerns. She loves her cocktails like the rest of us. I step up, "Actually we'd want a pitcher, that's with all the fruit and good stuff. Red okay?" Reds fine and I place the order. There is 10 of us there, only one person not drinking. The pitcher equals about 2 each, so we're still in the safe zone. The waiter brings over a bottle of Port on the house. A couple people pass cause they have to see clients, which boggles my mind, you really shouldn't have any alcohol on your breath going to see clients, but whatever. More Port for me! Anyway, this shakes out to about two more drinks a person.
We square up the bill and decide it's time to leave. As we're leaving, I turn to Dara, an Irish FOB (fresh off the boat) who sits across from me in the office and is hilarious. I go, "It's 2:30, 75 degrees out, and we've already had a couple. I need outdoor tables and beer." Without missing a beat, "Rudy's, we are definitely going to Rudy's. You're on recruitment."

Needless to say, I recruit. I get Eulys {prounced Eulys, fuckers}. Charles, an Americanized Hatian who has been born again in the "Times Square Church", which if I'm correct is Rev. Moon's church. Great guy, good looking, and has dreds. Unfortunately, he is completely nuts. Quit drinking, smoking, and having pre-marital sex when he joined the church. Needless to say, he's engaged to be married in June. Needs to get laid. Actually, I was present for their first date. It was at my movie trip for crazies, he'd bring dates or just pick up chicks there. Classic shit but a story for another day. The fifth member to join us was Samir. He is a story into and of himself. Briefly, he's Indian and a club kid. Grew up on St. Marks and plays sitar. Always going up to Woodstock for "music". I got him the job and am constantly terrorizing him. I've made him declare in meetings "I'm not gay!", just to make myself chuckle. He's really going to need his own entry, so let me sum up quickly. "Dude, I was working on the bartender at Red Rock until 5am! I think I'm in." Me, "What was his name?"
We get to Rudy's and start the two pitchers at a time game. I quickly remember why you're not supposed to drink with co-workers. The conversation immediately degenerates to who's fucking who, who's an idiot, and who we all hate the most. Charles admits he hasn't gotten laid in 2 years, BY CHOICE! This causes a long moment of silence. I break it with, "Congrats on that marriage thing. Should solve that problem." Charles responds, "Thanks man. Should we buy that tattooed girl at the other table a drink?" Now I can't resist, "You need some strange before the big day?" He's drinking and bumming smokes off me, "Nah man, just kidding." Rigghhht. Samir makes a call, "I called earlier, wondering if the Lotus Oil came in yet? Oh, it did! I'll be right over!" Before he even hangs up, I'm like "If Lotus Oil isn't a code for drugs or some kind of sexual act, I'm not buying that was a real call." He cops to the fact it's drugs and then questions me how I picked up on it. He thinks I'm the straightest guy in the world due to my work persona, so I remind him, "Burning Man twice, novice. Twice. Have fun." He leaves to cat calls and laughter. I call him Jag on his way out and laugh to myself for 5 minutes.
Dara and I get up to get two more pitchers, he hits the head and I walk out to our table. (Did I mention we were in the back yard there? We were.) I come back and find Eulys telling Charles, "It's like he's trying to put it through my fucking uterus. I love to fuck, but that shit hurts!" Charles is glassy eyed and doing his best to keep a straight face. He looks at me to keep the conversation going, "That's your cervix he's banging against. Don't like that eh?" Now Eulys is not the most sophisticated gal, but she's...earthy? She replies, "I don't know, but it hurts!" Dara returns at this point and wisely remains silent. To keep it going I throw out, "All girls are different, some love that." Charles pipes up, "Yeah, some girls squirt." This prompts a discussion about female ejaculation, which I don't feel like rehashing. Let's just say she closes with, "There must be some muscles that control that, I'm gonna look into that." She leaves on that note, or at least that's all I recall.
It's me, Dara, and Charle at this point. We're all drunk. The tattooed girl is leaving, Charles starts throwing out lines, "Where you going, we meant to buy you drinks." The girl is actually flattered and starts to respond to Charles, "Oh, if I'd know that..." I yell, "Not you, the other girl!" Everyone is horrified, the girl walks out in shame. I giggle hysterically while Dara and Charles just stare at me slack jawed. Before I can even catch my breath, this 70 year old woman comes out to smoke and starts waving at everyone. Everyone waves back and Dara goes, "That's why I love this place, all kinds are welcome." I pause for a second, still giggling and say, "Please forgive me guys, I can't resist. SHOW ME YOUR TITS!" She's demented and doesn't even notice, but half the place loves me, half the place hates me. Same old story. Then a bird shit on me and I called it a night. Cheers Motherfuckers.

Scroll down

I posted a Ward Gotti story, but it got posted below A-rods fake heroism rant. So scroll down bitches.

Red Sox-Yankees, A-rod saves boy (for sex)

The series is tied 3-3 for the season, the only way it should be. Last nights was a classic. Sheffield gets swatted by a fan and freaks out, teams rush out to outfield, police charge in...Just like old times. I was glad to see it, this series had been lacking the chaos that usually occurs in Boston. Not sure what will come of that incident, but I was just glad to see it. My favorite part though was in the 9th inning. Sox up by 3, yanks got two on, no outs, and A-rod comes to the plate as the tying run. "What a chance for redemption! A-rod could quiet his critics here and Boston and really turn things around for himself!" (The exclamation points are to indicate the ridiculousness of the YES announcers. They are atrocious and annoying.) Standard stuff, no surprise there. Then the announcer says, "But A-rod is already a hero today here in Boston. He told us earlier in the day he pulled a child out of harms way, saving him from being hit by a truck!" Here's the article.
http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=2037788
Note that this was reported by A-rod, no quotes from parents. If the parents do emerge in other stories later, they were paid and should be treated with the same respect as the parents of Michael Jackson's victims. The kid's name is McCarthy and he claims A-rod is his favorite yankee. What the child fails to mention is that he is the son of A-rod's publicist, and his father wasn't around because he was the one driving the truck that almost hit him. What a load of fucking bullshit. This couldn't be more transparent than if they happened to be taping an A-rod interview when it occurred. On video: A-rod, "You know, I'm just a ball player, I try to go out and play hard everyday. OH MY GOD, WATCH OUT YOUNG MAN. A-ROD WILL SAVE YOU!" Boy, "Thank you kind sir, that truck almost ended my young promising life! Oh my, your A-rod! Even though I'm a die hard Red Sox fan with an Irish last name, you are my favorite yankee!" This is a ludicrous scenario. A-rod is the most hated yankee since Clemens and Boggs. If that kid is really from Boston, which I doubt, he is getting his ass kicked at school everyday until he buys a black trench coat and some semi-automatic weapons in high school.
Just comical, this pushes A-rod's douche bag factor off the charts. Every investigative reporter in Boston better be on this like it was the Kennedy assassination.
On the plus side, A-rod hit a towering flyball to left that was caught on the warning track. Failed to move the runners and made first out of what would prove to be a frightening but futile effort at a comeback. SUCK IT A-ROD!

Ward-Gatti 2

I'm thinking I'm gonna start posting some old stories when nothing current is tickling my fancy. I remembered this one on Saturday when Shal and I went to the Celtics-Nets game. Before I get to the story let me just cover this game. Nets are chasing the last playoff spot, playing division rival Boston, and it's a Saturday afternoon. Place was maybe half full. Pathetic. They deserve to lose this team to Brooklyn, which I pointed out to any Nets fan that heckled us even mildly with, "Yeah, have fun Brooklyn!" This is the ultimate insult to a sports fan, having your team move away. Anyway, Vince Carter scored 24 points in 1st quarter, 48 overall, and the Celts lost by 25. Whatever, it was a cool Saturday afternoon. I'd gone to get a beer for me and a soda for Shal. I returned with a beer for me and apology for Shal. "Sorry hon, huge line at soda/popcorn/icecream/nachos/hot dogs stand. No line at beer stand." The exact opposite thing happened at the Ward-Gatti fight. I'm waiting in this huge line for beer and a soda, sold only at the same place. They run out beer. This is a boxing match with a boxer from Lowell, MA verse a boxer from Jersey City. Now I've never been to another fight, but this place was full of fucking animals. I mean crazy looking, fucked up, and violent. So when the stand we are all in line at announces they are out of beer, the pre-riot starts brewing, everyone is angry. Scratch that, everyone was already angry just because they were insane. Everyone gets angrier. I figure fuck it, I'll grab Shal her soda and try to find another beer stand later. "Hey, just let me get a Diet Coke!" I yell not thinking. Well, I might as well have yelled, "Hey, bring me a little boy to molest, I'm a big homo!" The crowd went silent and turned on me. I of course realize my mistake, "Fuck off, it's for my girlfriend." I think the "fuck off" bought me the tiniest bit of breathing room, and the biggest one there turns to me and goes, "You brought your girlfriend to this fucking bloodbath?" Me laughing, "Yeah, She's a fucking lunatic, huge Ward fan. We're both from Lowell." This saved me. The guy and his buddies were from Lowell, so we shared some stories and I kept my ass cherry intact.
The fight was incredible. Ward getting pounded then coming back in Rocky-like fashion giving me chills and goosebumps. The whole place jumping up and down and shaking the rafters. Best feeling I had at a live event since the old Boston Garden and the Larry Bird led Celtics. Ward lost but it was amazing, as anyone who watched that series of fights can attest. Good thing too, cause it was on the same day as Karen's Thanksgiving bash, the only one we've missed. We spent the rest of he night gambling and getting drunk. The night ended at a black jack table when the pit boss put up a sign saying that the table was changing from $15 to $10 at 2am. When 2am hit, I pointed this out to the pit boss. She goes, "That sign is wrong, it's really changing to $20." "You can't do that! That stupid sign is the only reason I'm still here." "We can do anything we want, it's our casino." My drunken anger rising, "That fucking blows." "Excuse me sir." "You heard me." "Using that kind of language will force us to ask you to leave the table." "At $20 a hand, I'm leaving any way, so fuck you, fuck your casino, and fuck your stupid little sign!" Shallon drags me away at this, point. Another notch in my asshole belt!

Learn to Swim

I wrote this over a week ago the day after the opening day loss to the yankees:
David Wells threw that first game. Hitting Giambi twice, give me a break. I kept waiting for him to rip off that Bosox shirt to reveal a yanks jersey underneath. Deplorable. Chris Brown has been trying to bait me about the Yanks winning, but I really don't care anymore. Of course I'd love to see the World Champion Boston Red Sox beat up on the yanks, but it's no longer as important. We won, we did it, the monkey is off our back. The yanks have the tag of biggest chokers, so finally the shoe is on the other foot.

Back to the present: The Bosox raised the banner, had a ton of Boston sports legends there, and then beat up the yankees. Good day. Tony from the beach house was in town that day for real estate classes. He came over and watched the game with me. He brought his beach house check with him, which he had claimed to have mailed almost 3 weeks ago. Funny part is, he really had mailed it, to "Jay Mills Apt 4L Hoboken NJ 07030". The dolt had forgotten to put the street! To his credit, he was man enough to bring the returned envelope with him and take his mocking like a man. I hope to have the envelope scanned in when Shal has some spare time. Anyway, Tony brought a twelve-pack with him which we proceeded to drink during the game. He goes to his class, which is at Hoboken High School, about 2 blocks from my apartment. He calls me during his class break, "Hey, can I drop by for a quick beer, this class is killing me." "Sure, come on by, but I drank the rest of the beers. You'll need to pick some more up." Tony pauses, "Christ, that's gonna cut into my break time. Fuck it, I'll be there in a minute." Shows up with another six pack, proceeds to down 2 in about 15 minutes, and then runs back to class. Late from break. He earned my utmost respect by doing this, way to go Tony! Even funnier, both times I answered my door bell, I'd say "Red Sox Nation", and he'd reply "Beer delivery!"

Best sign I saw this week: Big black homeless guy, "Ninjas killed my family, need money for Kung-Fu lessons fast!" I laughed and then kicked him.

In my video game Manhunt, I'm now hacking off my enemies heads and then throwing them around to make noise to lure other enemies. As the head rolls around it leaves blood trails. Sweet.

Black Pope: I remember when they elected John Paul, the first Polish Pope. There were a good 2 years of Polish Pope jokes. Can you imagine if we have a black Pope? Five years of jokes, minimum. I can't think of one yet, but I'll work on it.

Summer

It was 72 out today and I officially have Spring fever. Baseball started, chicks are wearing skimpy clothes, and I'm a walking hard-on! Yee-ha! I plan on spontaneous happy hours on beautiful days, so keep your phones on and feel free to call me. All of this has me thinking seriously about the beach house and this summer. (I still need a share or a half, if anyone is interested.) I like doing lists, so here is a list of things I will and won't do this summer:
*Try surfing. I'm gonna take George up on his offer and give it a whirl. Just one more step toward the grave or traumatic injury! I'm in baby!
*Go spear fishing with Richie G. And catch something. "Hey, is that a fish or Richie? Fuck it, fire away!" More danger baby!
*Golf more. Golf sober. I'm really looking forward to this, even if it's just the three par. We will go to a real course at least twice. It would be more if we could figure out a way to increase the danger.
*Fishing. I had a ball with Tony and Richie G.'s bachelor party when we went fluke fishing. We will do that again, and I want to do blue fishing this year too. They are dangerous little fuckers, we'll have hooks, knives, and gaffs. Plus we'll be drinking. Huge danger potential.
*Kayaking. I got to talk someone else into getting a kayak. They are like $300 at BJ's, so step up people. You ride the fuckers in the surf and waves, easily drown. I got a broken paddle from last year to prove that. Maybe attach my spear to my kayak, impale myself somehow? Rico and I were plotting how we could blue fish off my kayak, maybe I need to follow through with that. Frightening.
*Group sex. No condoms. Oh my!
*Volleyball on the beach. This will be my exercise, along with my usual routine of drunken swimming.
*Falling less. That gravel sucks and pavement always stings. I think I only had one falling evening last summer, so that's an improvement. Like I always say, "Think safety, drink responsibly."
*Tennis. I'll need a partner for this, so let's make this happen. Also, I think a tennis court could make a wonderful dodgeball arena. Who doesn't love dodgeball? Oh wait, I'm 6'6", 240lbs, and slow as shit. Tennis sounds perfect.
*Bike riding. At least once in the national park. Bring on the deer ticks!
*Making fun of the Johnson sisters. Bailing out of 105 and taking a place in the backwoods of Belmar. Good thinking. Thanks to those of you who resisted Christina's recruitment and remained loyal. I know who you are and you are the reason we kept both houses despite her backhanded poaching efforts.
*Wearing Boston sports related items. At all times I will have on either a Three-time Superbowl Champions New England Patriots or World Series Champion Boston Red Sox. If I fail, feel free to remind me, then we'll all laught at Chris Brown.
*Nudity. More nudity really makes anything better.
*Parties. No more Luau? We'll convene a panel early in the summer to determine the proper course of action. Theme parties? Drinking game tournaments? Costume Parties?
*Getting along with our neighbors. This is self-explanatory, keep chaos hidden in back yard or indoors.
*Drugs. Like nudity, more drugs really makes anything better. Except my driving.
*Staying the fuck off the jetty. Dan and I, drunk, went on the jetty barefoot last year. Almost died. Most slippery surface I've ever been on. Had to literally crawl on my belly off into the water.
*More Banana phone.
*Fresh squeezed screwdrivers. After noon.
Of course if all we do is hang out sipping beers and bullshitting, I'll still be happy. As a pig in shit. I was injured a lot last year with my back, should be coming in healthy, ready to have a strong season.
Cheers motherfuckers.