Crap Crap and More Crap. Literally.
1. Kuen IM-ed me this link with a whole lot of videos. Geo and I liked the Nike commercial where everyone in the arena plays musical chairs. If I were Nike I would have just thrown this one into the Super Bowl mix instead of creating new ones. More importantly, the site taught me an important lesson. One CAN enjoy videos off the internet that aren't porn. Will these wonders never cease?
2. Supposedly the average workplace friendship normally lasts less than two years after they stop working together. So yay for Kwame, Lani, Kaan and Paul (and sometimes MPip) for still keeping in touch even though we no longer have that bond together. You know, that bond of being miserable 10 hours a day. Although to be honest, when Paul and I were working together he was miserable but I wasn't. I liked my job. 9-5, 15-minute commute and the pay was lovely. What's not to like.
3. I was going to mess with Mike J and call him up pretending I needed him for something important concerning the girls, at the exact time the Daytona 500 was starting. But now I'm glad I didn't. Because his driver Kurt Busch came in second and he must be about ready to kill himself right about now. Fans can spout all the optimistic bullshit they want but let's face it... Almost only counts in horseshoes and grenades. Although I didn't skip the call out of consideration or anything, I just forgot to do it.
4. I read some list on Jersey City's website called "You know you're from from Jersey City if..." It was kind of outdated. They missed:
-You know the procedure for what to do after your car is stolen like it's a daily routine.
-You know that Society Hill is built on land filled with chromium deposits.
-You've ever gone through a pothole so big you could have sat in it
-You've ever been heckled with racial slurs by a group of 10-year-old kids
-You've ever been drunk at the piers and watched the crats run around
-You've know which motels on 1 and 9 are rented by the hour (just from passing them all the time)
-You get a quarter ready when you leave the car at Pathmark, to get out the locked shopping cart. Bonus points if you have one of those red-orange cart keys already in your possession. Or if you used to shop at Shop-Rite before they closed it down.
-You remember when parking at the Newport Mall did not cost $132.75 for an hour and a half.
-You know that the pond at Lincoln Park is shaped like New Jersey.
Well... what do I know. I've only been a Jersey-Cityan for 4 years. And in all honesty, I spend most of my day pretending my house isn't located where it is.
5. Actually punk kids are pretty universal. My dad told me that a few months ago in Los Angeles, he was stopped at a light where some adolescent kids were waiting at a bus stop. Some guy, thinking to impress his friends, threw his soda at my dad through the open car window. Then they all started laughing and talking shit to my dad. My dad was considering going off on him but figured who cares and left. I told him there wasn't any point confronting them. If they're lucky, those punk ass kids will either enlist in the army or find work at a decent gas station. More probable is that they'll end up in jail or worse from a drug deal or car theft gone bad. Callous, yes, but I'm not about to waste any sympathy on kids that think it's funny to abuse a 57-year-old man.
6. Why isn't poo an appropriate topic of conversation? I mean if you turn on the TV you can watch someone give birth or sell drugs, eat live rats, hear about gruesome deaths on the news or watch Viagra commercials. So why is it considered ill-bred to discuss bodily waste?
Luckily, I have friends who understand my needs.
Me: Ever taken a dump that was such a masterpiece it seemed a waste to flush it?
Mike: Yeah. The other day I almost took a picture of one to send to you.
Me: Eeew. I would have looked at it though. It'd be hypocritical not to considering I've dragged Geo into the bathroom a couple times to brag.
Mike: It was a multi-colored poo.
Me: Like red, blue and green? Because then I'd be worried.
Mike: No, not those colors. I hate the poo that's like breech.
Me: Like you need a Caesarean or the doctor to reach in and turn it?
Mike: Yeah. Or the ones where you strain and strain and there's nothing there.
Me: You push like you're giving birth and when you look into the bowl there's a skittle poo.
Me: And it almost seems a waste to flush. A waste of water for something so small. I hate those.
Mike: I took one once that looked like a pinecone. I was wondering if that was what they meant by shingles. I had to look it up online.
Me: Thank God for the internet.
Mike: Damn. Now I'm going to be thinking about this conversation when I have to go.
Me: You might get nervous and not be able to perform. Bowl Fright.