Baby It's Cold Outside

Baby It's Cold Outside
(The latest 24 recap is right underneath this, plus a Wednesday night edit to this post)

So yeah, we did the New Jersey Polar Bear Plunge on Saturday. Thank you so much for your donations, and here is the pic I promised:

"I'm blue da-ba-dee-da-ba-di da-ba-dee-da-ba-di...."

Heh. Doot doot...

Okay, per Abe and Steve's request I was just fucking with you guys. We took a bunch of pics, because I explained to everyone that the Australians want to see Mr. Modesty have to prance around half-nekkid in public, in front of hundreds of people and yet more on the internet. By the way mates, I'm really sorry that I almost inadvertently killed your friend. But we'll get to that.

On Saturday morning, Geo, Abel, Steve, Tony and I headed down to Seaside Heights, where the plunge was taking place (Mike was driving straight there from his house). It wasn't too bad out, it was cold but sunny and they said the water temp was 35 degrees. Paul flaked completely, which sucks since he was the one that got me to do it in the first place. I even brought him a little bottle of After Shock, since I was going to do the plunge sober. I think it was all some elaborate plan to send my idiot ass into the fucking ocean in the middle of February. I'll tell you what though. We made a bet, which he lost even if he flaked and SOMEBODY is going to be running through Times Square one day in a pair of socks and a thong.

After registering, we headed onto the beach. Holy crap, let me just say that cold sand feels like snow under your bare feet. We stripped down about 15 minutes before 1 p.m. then tried to use the crowd for body heat. Or at least, I did. Stevie is stupidly warm for someone who has less total body fat than my middle finger. At one point, some guy in a Vikings jersey whom I was trying to use as a shield from the wind, turned around and said to him "What are you going to do in there, you have no body fat. You're going to be so cold."

What the guys were thinking before the plunge:
"What the fuck are they thinking?"


What we were thinking before the plunge:
"What the fuck are we thinking?"


What THE OTHERS were thinking before the plunge:
"Our enemies may take our lives but they will never take our freedom!!!"

At exactly 1 p.m. some type of horn sounded, then people started yelling and everyone began running for the ocean. I think I was skipping though. I tend to skip while other people are running. Two seconds after it registered that my feet were in the water, I fell off some sort of mini underwater cliff and boom was submerged over my head. (Steve wants to make sure I tell the following story) I broke the surface, got pulled under by a wave, then broke the surface again and looked for him. He was over a bit and apparently attempting to do the backstroke. So I dove over and dunked him, as in pushed his head fully underwater.

Except that... I didn't know he CAN'T SWIM. Actually, I think I did at one point know but forgot about it, because I mean seriously, who dives into the ocean and can't freaking swim??? Especially when he's from a country entirely surrounded by water AND is a licensed scuba diver? (The explanation has something to do with his nasal cavity and water getting in while submerged.) Anyway, I got pulled under by another wave so I ran out of the water then waited on the shore to make sure the guys in the wetsuits weren't having to organize a rescue attempt for Steve. And yes, I realize you're supposed to plunge in and plunge out of the ocean, and probably not fuck around trying to do the backstroke or dunk your friends.

What I was thinking AFTER the plunge:
"Let's go get some real food, I am so fucking tired of oatmeal."


WORD.

After the plunge, we went and ate Italian sausage sandwiches on the boardwalk. Considering the tasteless food diet we'd been on, we decided in advance to binge the rest of the weekend. On the way to the Cheesecake Factory, we stopped off at Wawa and Geo bought Steve every single snack item he'd ever wanted to try but never did. One thing that was funny was that we tried to get Mike to come with us to the restaurant but he wasn't hungry so he said he was heading home. But on Route 37 after Wawa, we randomly saw him on the road and convinced him to come with us.

I said one of us should ride with him and since I was sitting in my underwear at the time, it should be Tony. Tony hopped out of the car at the next light and ran into Mike's. Except that 5 seconds later, Abel goes "I've never ridden in Mike's car" so we were all like "Then go! Send Tony back in here." So at the next light, Abe hopped out and sent Tony back into our car. Yes, Chinese Fire drills on some random highway in Jersey. The people in the other cars were like "What the fuck are these people doing." Geo was going to run and switch spots with Mike but we weren't sure Mike would go for it. At one point we were dying over the idea of all being in Mike's car, while he's alone in ours like when we started.

Incidentally, it amuses me that I sat around in my underwear for 2 hours and no one thought it was weird. The rest of the weekend was pretty much the same as last weekend, Tony, Abel and Steve stayed over for hours of playing with the kiddos, Guitar Hero, Nintendo Wii, drinking and guitaraoke (G came over on Friday and we went to the gym then guitaraoked while Geo played the drums). Except that unlike those other weekends, Steve and I ate regular food... a lot. Here is a list of everything we ate this weekend, and if I never see another french fry again I won't give a shit:

Blazin Buffalo and Ranch Doritos with sour cream, Funyuns, potato skins, Sour Cream and Onion Sun Chips, Cheez Doodles, Honey BBQ Fritos, Lifesaver gummies, slim jims, Pizzeria Pretzel combos, Wawa Peach Iced Tea, lemonade, crispy crab won-tons, buffalo wings, shrimp summer rolls, avocado eggrolls, tacquitos, popcorn shrimp, calimari, edamame, ribs, roadside sliders, french fries, quesedillas, spinach and artichoke dip, pot stickers, corn tamale cakes, guacamole, chicken marsala, chicken tikka masala, aloo gobi, lachcha paratha, raita, rice, gulab jamun, vegetable samosas, stewed chickpeas, white hot chocolate, maple sausage sandwiches, quiche, Honey Graham Oh's, mochi, twinkies, Wise hot popcorn, crab alfredo, garlic breadsticks, chicken parm something or other, steak Gorgonzola alfredo, toasted meat raviolis, crab stuffed mushrooms, egg custards from Neptune, coolattas/milkshakes from Baskin Robbins, ice cream, Grey's Papaya hot dogs with sauerkraut, fried onions and mustard, homemade oatmeal cookies, lechon kawali, salmon with cauliflower and spinach, Jose Cuervo, Patron, Black Label, Malibu Mango rum, Malibu Pineapple rum, Malibu Passion Fruit rum, Jim Beam, Goldschlagger, Stoli, Stoli Raspberry and Sambuca.

I don't know how we're still alive. Tony just barely pulled through, I think he got food poisoning from his Dunkin Donuts sandwich. The rest of us are recuperating but everyone's immune system is shot. I heard "Riss, it's tiring being your friend" a bunch of times. Yeah, even I get tired being my friend.

By the way, Kwame said he'd pay a dollar for every black person I saw, so Kwam, oddly enough you owe about $20 (I think they were all cops). Other than that it was me, Steve, two Puerto Rican guys and a whole lot of white people. There's a bit of video shot by Geo, but the file is messed up so I have to play around with it in Adobe Premiere. The rest of the pics, awesome shots taken courtesy of the wonderful photographer Tony, are located here, via con Dios.

Wednesday night edit: As the author of this blog, I feel compelled to ask that people stop leaving comments about how hot Steve looks with his abs upon abs upon abs. It is really, REALLY , REALLY embarrassing him. He doesn't even know what to type anymore. So please, enough already. Seriously. Especially don't be a gay guy asking for his number with great enthusiasm (unless you've got a twenty bucks and my Paypal account info. All you need is some whiskey.) And ESPECIALLY don't forward this link on to all your friends who have ever met him. We don't want to keep embarrassing our friend with things like this:

Talk To The Ham

Talk To The Ham

Do you guys remember how I'm a Law and Order freak, and also my television post and also my "Laminated Top 5 List" a la Friends? Good. Then you'll understand the significance of this:

Why is it that when people take pictures with celebrities, they pose as if
they're standing in Greece, next to an urn from the Hellenic period.

Last night, I had plans to meet up with the Chaos Radio crew for a comedy show. Mike was already going to be in the city for a happy hour, so me, Abel, Tony and Steve met him at a bar called The Patriot. Numerous random Wednesday evening shots later, I bounced outside to escape the Toby Keith marathon with a stoge. Abel and I are laughing about something when all of a sudden a familiar face walks by and we both freeze. Let me preface this by saying that I have seen and met a lot of celebrities just by nature of living in Los Angeles, New York and working in public relations. But other than when I met Michael Jordan, this is the only time I've ever given a crap.

So, I call out "Excuse me" and he stops and turns and I say "Ummm are you Jesse" and I was going to finish his name but it kind of just trailed off because I realized he was. And he says "yes" and walks over and I say "Oh my God, I love you." YES!!!!!!! Good one, Riss, and not freaky AT ALL. I amend it to say that I love his work, etc, and he asks me my name and we chat. He actually thought I knew him personally or something. I ask if I can pop inside and get my camera, and he agrees, so I walk to the doorway then literally RUN once I'm through the door. I rush to the table, throw out "OhMyGodJesseLMartinIsOutside" to the guys and grab my camera.

Meanwhile, outside, Abel is talking to Jesse just to make sure he doesn't leave. He tells him that every time he comes to my house, I've got all the Law and Orders Tivo'd. Mike and Steve follow me outside, we chat some more (he is a really nice guy) and then Abel takes the best picture ever. The cutest part of everything is that I was super giddy the rest of the night, and my four best friends were giddy too, just because they were so happy for me. I tried to stop randomly bursting into a huge smile and they were all like "Why are you trying to chill, enjoy it Riss." I love you guys!

Some other notes:

1. After the Cringe Humor comedy show (which was good), Mike and Tony dropped me, Abel and Steve off at Steve's place, where there was no liquor. Actually, there was dessert wine and (old I think) champagne. NOW, there's no more liquor.

2. We drunk dialed Maz. The Drunken Plan Maker strikes again and I think I somehow agreed to go to Australia next month for a week.

3. Abel loves to play Marvel Ultimate Alliance on 360 but it's too long of a name to keep saying so we just call the game "Coins" now.

4. Steve and I have been trying to find the grossest shot ever. So far it stands at tequila and bran flakes, which is extra disgusting because at the end of the shot, the pile of bran flakes has to be crunched and it tastes like solidified tequila chunks. Blech. Tequila and ketchup wasn't too bad though.

5. The waitresses and bartenders at The Patriot are SMOKIN. Our waitress Natalie was especially easy on the eyes AND a sweetheart. The owner is the same guy who owns Hogs and Heifers and Coyote Ugly and he rotates his staff. The regular bartender wasn't there though, and according to Mike she usually just wears tassles.

6. The bar played all country music, but had a few other CDs in the jukebox. Someone put on Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Have You Ever Seen The Rain" and all of us just leaned back and let me music wash over us. That song will forever remind me of one of the best nights ever.

7. I got to meet Heide's BFF Tim for the first time, and he rocks. They have matching tattoos, which you know, my goal is to eventually get a dragon on all my boyz. Tony's done, Abel will be soon and Geo will probably have it some time this year. Which leaves Steve and Mike. Heh. Mike's will be the size of a nickel and Steve's will be brown and located in his armpit.

8. Mike had to drive so he couldn't finish his Guinness. Tony didn't want it, so I turned it into an "Irish car bomb" (which you know, until that moment I hadn't thought about what a foul name that is for a drink) which is when you drop a shot of Baileys into the Guinness and down it. After I finished, Mike and Abel were just sitting there staring.

Abel: Dude, you're a fucking soldier.
Mike: I'll never be at your level.

9. Steve made us all personalized cookies. Mike's has a mustang on it, Tony's has a basketball, Abel's is in the shape of a heart (per his own request, "You know how I know you're gay..."), Geo's has a computer on it, Steve's has the symbol for Pi on it with I think 3.14159265 around it, Angelina's has a flower on it, Faith's has a smiley face on it and mine has a ham on it, because I'm lusting after a shirt that says "Talk to the ham" and a picture of a ham.

I look like an alien in this pic, or like my head is on backwards. "TALK TO THE HAM!!!"

10. Did I mention I met Jesse L Martin? Geo says that I have to knock him off the laminated list now, but that's not fair. The whole point of the list is that these are the 5 people you're allowed to sleep with if the opportunity ever presents itself. If you're going to knock them off once you meet them then my list might as well read "Rush Limbaugh, Dennis Rodman, Carrot Top, Pauly Shore and Dick Cheney." Blech.

My New Tattoo

The New Tattoo HNT

(Dan triggered a thought in the comments, so here is my one and only ever contribution to HNT. Have to try everything at least once right?)

So I got some new "flash" last Saturday:

The one on the right is the new one. I got the Chinese tribal dragon in 1995,
the sun and stars of the Filipino flag in 1996 and the rose on my ankle in 1999.


Okay so you really have to trust your dentist AND your tattoo artist.


My little newborn tattoo right after birth, and Yoni!


Me and Steve went to see Les Mis right after. I walked into the place
in baggy jeans, my Punisher tank and a scully and left in a cocktail dress.

Q&A about my tattoo:

Q: What is it and why did you choose it?
A: The phoenix, a mythical bird which can be reborn from its own flame and ashes at the end of its life cycle or when injured. Also known as the Firebird (which I played in my 1st grade school play), its tears have healing powers. The reasons behind the choice are fairly personal, but my close friends have told me that when they heard what I got, it made complete sense to them.

Q: What made you get another tattoo?
A: Well it was a surprise, I thought Steve and I were going to some crazy bar before the show. But I'd been wanting to get a tattoo to mark my 30th year and it's awesome that I got to share the experience with one of my best friends. So there it is, Bob's your uncle. (Sorry, just wanted to say that.)

Q: Does Geo like it?
A: Absolutely. He's jealous that I beat him to it, but we both knew that would happen. His next tattoo is going to be huge so it's going to take some designing and stuff.

Q: Who did it and where?
A: Yoni at New York Adorned, this awesome parlor on 3rd Street and Second Ave.

Q: How long did it take?
A: The actual tattooing part took a little over an hour and a half, but Yoni also had to draw the tattoo based on my concept. He is actually the best tattoo artist I've ever seen, and I've gotten or been with people who have gotten tattoos all over San Francisco, San Diego and L.A. He's amazing.

Q: Did it hurt? What does it feel like?
A: The initial outline in black is really what hurts the most, but it's not bad. I think with tattoos, the anticipation of the pain is a lot worse than the reality. After the first ten minutes or so the area kind of numbs up. When the needle hit the sensitive skin on my side however, those moments weren't too pleasant.

Q: Will you get more?
A: Eventually. My body is a canvas. With stretch marks, so maybe I'll avoid tattooing the front area and just stick to my back. I won't be getting another one anytime soon though.

Q: How much did it cost?
A: You'll have to ask Steve.

Q: Seriously?
A: Yes.

Q: Your friends really and truly spoil the shit out of you.
A: Wait, that's not a question. (But yeah, they do. They don't have to, but they do.)

Super Bowl Weekend Recap

Super Bowl Weekend Recap

Okay so despite the ridiculously random shots we took yesterday (Cuervo, Jaeger, Absolut Peach, Soco), I feel completely fine and it's because the COLTS WON THE SUPER BOWL!!!!!

Naturally it was all due to my lucky Peyton Manning jersey (thanks Stevie) and the fact that I kept rubbing my friend Alex's Chicago sweater for luck, WOOT! I'm still stupidly happy, Kwame said it best a couple of weeks ago when we were discussing their win over New England, it's a bit ridiculous to care so much about a team that isn't even yours. But I am giddy with joy and happy for the Colts.

Anyway, so on Friday I invited my friend Steve over to play. My mom called his mom and assured her that she would indeed, be home. And that she wouldn't feed us junk food for lunch and let us play with matches. Steve rolled in off the train from Manhattan at about 2 or so, and within 5 minutes I had placed a Guitar Hero controller in his hand and we were battling to Cheap Trick's "Surrender." One and a tenth movies later (Maid In Manhattan -- which I took pity on him and removed 15 minutes into the movie "You know how I know you're gay, you like that movie Maid in Manhattan" and Eurotrip) Steve decided to give me a guitar lesson, which ended up being him just playing songs, which then turned into "guitaraoke." Seriously though, guitaraoke rocks!! It's a lot harder than singing along with pre-recorded music, and more fun because for a short while you get to pretend you're an actual musician.

Eventually, Abel showed up with his Nintendo Wii and we (along with Geo) cracked open a bottle of Malibu. First of all, Nintendo Wii is off the fucking hizz-ay. Sorry, couldn't resist. Seriously though, it's a spankin' good time and I mean that in every sense of the phrase. Second of all, Steve and I need to stop hanging out with each other because we're both idiots who egg each other on. I swear we're 12. By the end of the night we had gotten trashed off Malibu Coconut Rum mixed with V8 (yeah you read that right, V-fucking-8) just for the stupidity of doing it and somehow got into a competition in my front yard to see who could handle wearing the least amount of clothes in 10 degree weather, at 4 in the morning, in Jersey fucking City, while Abel watched us and alternately laughed and shook his head at our idiot antics.

Incidentally, playing Nintendo Wii is more strenuous than half the things people do at the gym. Oh and enough shit talk flew that night to fill eight NBA All-Star Weekends, but it's fucking hysterical when it's coming at you in an Australian accent. At one point we were doing flips in my living room and I did a bridge then tried to turn it into a back-walk-over but needed a spotter. So Steve walks over and freaking flips me over in a full backflip. Apparently, I still landed it.

Malibu and V8, the choice of a new generation. "Wiiiiiiiii!!!"

On Sunday me, Geo, Tony and Abel headed into the city to meet up with Steve, Alex and Alex's friend Alex (dude that's like the Bob Newhart Show "Hi I'm Larry and this is my cousin Daryl and my other cousin Daryll") at Tonic to watch the Super Bowl

Tony finishing off the mini-keg (really, who lets us in public)
and Alex representing the Windy City. Alex is about as far from a
hoodlum as you can get so this picture is actually pretty funny.


We decided to do prairie fires, as in tequila with Tabasco sauce.
And by "we" I mean that I decided for the both of us. Steve's shot
has better presentation though. Or is that liquor feng shui?


Alex is pointing out the infamous Chicago sweater that I kept rubbing
for good Colts luck. Incidentally, that's not a Bears sweater, it's a
University of Chicago sweater, his alma mater. You can't mess with the
God of Sports Paraphernalia, he will shoot your team down.


Abel was rooting for the Bears and Geo was rooting for the Colts. Steve
was dubbed "Switzerland" because he's Australian and halfway through the
first quarter, was still waiting for the soccer players to take the field.

One thing (among many) that cracked me up was this random drunk girl in a Marvin Harrison jersey that kept walking up to Alex and screaming "Go Colts!!!!!!!!" and "The Bears suck!!!!!!!" right in his ear. It was mostly amusing because she was doing it to the other Alex as well and I really, really thought he was going to throw an elbow. And by "thought" I meant "hoped" because that would have been even funnier.

Also...

Me: Did you throw that football that just went behind the bar?
Steve: Yeah but it went through Alex's fingers. It was a perfect spiral.
Me: Oh, that's okay then.

Also also...

Never drink Tabasco sauce out of the bottle just because your friends Alex and Steve are doing it. This may seem like a basic instruction to life, along with "Always flush the toilet" and "Wash your hands after you use the bathroom" but apparently there are some people that don't understand this. Especially don't battle your friends, counting seconds VERY slowly, to see who can down it the longest. Especially don't plan to do it again one day, because your friend Steve thinks he blew your ass out of the water with his Tabasco-guzzling time, when in fact you know he lost it harder than a cheerleader on prom night.

Otherworldly

Otherworldly

I love this picture of my gorgeous sister Leah.
Her husband Mike took it somewhere near Malibu, but it
looks otherworldly to me. It's as if after the picture was
taken, fairies emerged and showed her the way to their kingdom.
Either that, or I should probably stop smoking so much crack.

I See Drunk People

I See Drunk People

You know it was a good Friday night when it's Monday and you're still tired as hell. It especially makes me feel guilty when I look at Geo, who seems to have come down with the flu, a respiratory infection, bronchitis and a cold all at once. Also, his throat is sore and his voice is half gone. Meanwhile, I'm prancing around in the kitchen making pancakes and singing along to "Just Want You To Know" by the Backstreet Boys. He probably wants to smack me. I thought I had flu symptoms a couple of days ago but they've disappeared under the deluge of orange juice and cold medicine I pre-emptively attacked with. That's my philosophy, respond with every weapon in the arsenal. In response to a few chills that may have just been the result of a minor hangover, I dropped the equivalent of a cold medicine H-bomb and any flu germs I had have scattered for cover.

So on Friday, me, Geo, Tony, Mike and Alex sent my cousins off to Houston/the Philippines and Steve off to Australia (don't worry he's coming back) with some Aussie burgers at The Sunburnt Cow. Don't ask me why an Australian guy, going back to Australia, wanted to eat at an Australian restaurant in his last shindig in New York City. Afterwards, using Magic Drunken Warmth for fuel, we trekked through some random park to a karaoke bar called... wait for it... "Sing Sing." I guess it's similar to the prison in that the rooms are small and people peep at you through the door. No one tosses salads at the karaoke place though, it's too expensive. Time is money. The rooms are $45 per hour and 2 bucks per song. New York city has balls of steel when it comes to pricing. Steve picked up the tab, refusing all offers, which was higher than my rent. When I woke up the next morning and soberly contemplated the bill, I decided that in all fairness, one of us should probably give Steve a blowjob. And since Tony, Mike and Alex are the only single ones among the revelers... Oh come on. Straight is just a state of mind. (And remember Steve, it's not gay if THEY'RE sucking YOUR dick.)

Before the workers kicked us out in the morning, they delivered all the shots we had ordered (thinking they didn't get our previous orders) at once. 20 of them to be precise (to add to the previous 40 or so). I don't remember who drank them all but I think it was me and Steve mainly, since Alex had bounced by then. Without saying goodbye. This is apparently his modus operandus after a heavy night of drunken debauchery, Steve says he follows a homing pigeon in his head that tells him how to get home.

The rest of the pics are here and I laugh out loud every time I look at them. God bless people who are sober enough to take embarrasing pictures of the drunken ones. My one regret is that in all my SoCo and limeyness I completely forgot to give Steve the teeny wedding gift I got for Maria and Rhandy. I guess Girlie will be schlepping it to Australia in March.

Party Peoples

Party Peoples

This past weekend we went to two birthday celebrations for Tony (spoiled, who gets two birthday parties), Morpheus's Halloween costume party and a pumpkin picking party for our friend Ryan's daughter. So you know, I'm too tired to think of proper segues. I'm just going to post up pictures and list random thoughts about it.

No, I don't know why so many guys in this picture are holding up
the sign for two. It could be the amount of drinks they've had at
that point or perhaps how many children they want to have.


In case anyone is wondering about the awful expression on
my face, it's my "Okay don't blink don't blink don't blink" look.


Jersey City has quite a few Muslims in the neighborhood and they weren't
too pleased when the guy in the middle walked his dogs while in costume.
It could have been Morpheus following him with a blindfold and electrical
wires though (not really). Yes I know, going to hell.


There's also a picture of me grabbing its chainsaw-wielding balls.


Geo borrowed a real ninja sword from Morpheus so I borrowed this for mine.


I would leave Geo if he ever tried stuff like this at home. Luke once
dressed up like a ninja then hid behind the fridge and Girlie almost died
of a heart attack. Aud was on the phone with her at the time and she
thought the screams meant someone was murdering her.


I told Geo beforehand that I was going to take a picture with the guy
in the Steve Irwin costume and label it "I hate this guy." He was nice
though, and also Australian like his fallen mate.

1. Tony's party was held at the Canal Room in New York, which I actually liked. Mike and Geo were miserable, they hate clubs. The ones I hate are the ones that pack in a few thousand people. I haven't been to one of those in about five years and I'd rather listen to an 8-hour debate on why curtains are better than Venetian blinds than ever go to one of those again.

2. I can't believe New York City has banned smoking in clubs but not well drinks. Well drinks are the liquid minions of Satan. Well drinks have you puking up organs you have to later stuff back in. Well drinks have you waking up and wondering who the people next to you are (okay not me personally but you get the drift.)

3. People think alcohol completely obliterates my verbal filter but it's simply not true. As evidenced by the following exchange I had on Thursday night. What I actually said:

Me: So what do you think of that?
Random wannabe Black Panther guy: *I* don't judge people.
Me: Oh come on, EVERYONE sometimes makes judgements even if they try not to.
Random wannabe Black Panther guy: I don't.
Me: Well I do. You're a much better person than all the rest of us. Have a nice night.

What I totally could have said:

Me: So what do you think of that?
Random wannabe Black Panther guy: *I* don't judge people.
Me: You self-important, pseudo-intellectual ass. You think "I don't judge people" makes you sound enlightened but all it does is make you look like a smarmy little idiot. You saying "I don't judge people, that's wrong" is a judgement in itself. Like how I am judging the distance from my foot to your ass.

4. Morpheus spent an insane amount of money on Halloween decorations for the party. There were statues, hanging psychotic clowns, cobwebs, severed limbs, scary paintings, you name it. His dogs even had costumes. The partygoers were awesome though, they really came dressed to the nines. Only one party pooper came dressed as something lame like "baseball fan" or something. One guy scared the crap out of me though, he was dressed in a suit like The Joker and had his face painted. He would just stand quietly here and there. I avoided him like the plague.

5. Last year we had about 4 pumpkins rotting in our car for a month. Pumpkin picking for us this year consisted of walking our daughters to the pile of apple-sized pumpkins and saying "Which one are you picking?"

Apple Picking

Apple Picking

A couple of Sundays ago, I entered the wonderful world of apple picking. Being from California, it was just one of those random activities that I had heard about but never participated in. Apparently it's like a rite of passage. Me, Geo and the girls met up with Paul, Jamie and their boys at the Tewksbury General store in Tewsbury, New Jersey. Which I'm determined to live in by the way. After living in big cities all my life, now I just want to find some quaint town and own a damn horse. Is that too much to ask? Oh yeah, apple picking.

So after lunch we walked down the road to Melnick's Farm and jumped onto the hayride up to the orchard. As the truck rattled up the hill, I turned to Paul and said "I was just thinking that migrant farm workers must look at these places and think why the hell would we want to do their jobs for free." He replied, "I was just thinking that the Nazis used to transport the Jews to concentration camps in trucks just like these." We're a boatload of fun on family outings aren't we? Everyone had an awesome time though. Geo and I went home with a crapload of apples because the girls went crazy. They were like apple picking machines. Could be a leftover Filpino migrant farm worker gene. Anyway, I kept a close eye in case someone thought we were escaped migrant farm workers and shuttled us off to the real fields.

And now I can beat my chest and yell "I HAVE PICKED APPLES!"

Geo's impersonation of a field hand, complete with pink diaper sling bag.
No farm worker is ever seen out in the orchard without one.

Exit Zero

Exit Zero

But first, Starbursts suck. The strawberry ones are marginally tolerable but the rest taste like what sweetened cat vomit must taste like.

Geo and I grabbed the kids and spent the past weekend in Cherry Hill with Manny, Janelle and their son. What a difference a few years makes. Back in the day we used to go down there, get smashed while playing that drinking game Kings, then pass out after having drunken sex in various Cherry Hill locations. Now we go down there, hang out with the kids, play Guitar Hero and run errands. Geo and I are like a plague with Guitar Hero by the way. We're spreading the word like the captain of the football team spreads chlamydia.

We did play a round of Kings, though not enough to be affected by the beer. But long enough that when the category was "brands of toothpaste" I said Barnes and Noble instead of Arm and Hammer. I knew it didn't make sense but said it anyway. It's fun to play Kings with our friend Sean because he lets me and Janelle make up rules like "non-mothers have to drink."

Before we slept, we went outside to feed Janelle's adopted stray cat. Meaning she feeds it whenever it comes by, but doesn't keep it in her house. We were watching the cat eat and Janelle figured out that it was pregnant again. I asked her how she knew, and she mentioned something about its breasts. Okay. She wondered aloud why the cat was pregnant again, so fast. I'm like dude, the cat has three legs. It's not like it can make a quick getaway.

On Sunday, we all took a day trip to Cape May, New Jersey which is Exit 0 on the Garden State Parkway. Cape May is this little seaside town filled with delicious seafood restaurants, quaint little shops, beachfront hotels and numerous Victorian mansions turned into bed and breakfast places. I really love that place. We ate huge platters of fried fish, scallops, crab cakes and oysters, then got some homemade fudge. Yum.

Yeah, that's a Flash shirt. I got it because Flash gets no love, everyone's like
Superman this and Batman that. (Batman is the best though.)

This is my favorite bed and breakfast. Not that I've ever stayed there. A one night
stay probably runs at least $500. Yeah okay, I just won't eat tomorrow.

This one's awesome too, with a wraparound porch.

If I had a few million to spare I'd buy one of the beachfront Victorians and refurbish it. We saw one for sale that was awesome. When you buy an old house in Cape May however, you also need to set aside money for a few hundred priests to come and bless the house. And maybe a rabbi, some Muslim clerics and a Native American shaman as well.

Aussie Invasion

Aussie Invasion

For Steve's 30th birthday, some of his closest friends (Ray, Paul, Loni, Rhandy and Maria) flew in for the weekend, most directly from Australia. For people who are geography knowledge-challenged, Australia is really, really, really fricken far from New York. You're on a plane for over a day, and then some. So his friends pretty much spent the exact same time traveling as they did in New York. Naturally, we made an effort to hang out as much as possible. By the way, would any of you guys do that for me, fly for 50 jillion hours to spend my birthday with me? No? Fuck you then. Ass monkeys.

On Friday night I went out to dinner with some girlfriends, and by girlfriends I mean girl friends, not chicks whose carpet I munch on occasion. Afterwards, I dragged them into the city to go meet up with the Aussie posse. Heh. Sorry, I'm delirious. And also, Steve is right now reading this and reminding me that the correct pronunciation has the "zed sound as in ozzy." Mkay. Paul thinks the Australian accent isn't that great but me and the rest of the Americans in our party begged to differ. Those accents are pretty damn hot. We keep the expatriate Steve around for a reason.

We met up at some joint in midtown by Steve's pad, and the bartender was the drunkest person in the bar. He hit on every female there, punctuating every sleazy remark with "Don't worry, I'm 47 and my sex life is over." Charming, actually. Okay not really. I spent a lot of the time hiding. As has been the case with each and every time Ray is in town, I stuck to our pre-approved gameplan of drinking waaaaay too much on their first night in, and peaking early in the visit. Many of the Aussies did as well. Consequently, more liquor was drunk that first night by less people, than the entire weekend's activities combined.

On Saturday night, we went the Bowlmore Lanes in the village, which was like a weird cross between a club and a bowling alley. I've never seen so many young, scantily-clad white chicks bowling. Suddenly, male interest in my post has perked up. Bowlmor Lanes people, on University Place and 12th. Despite a deep hatred for bowling, I liked the place because they played old school hip-hop all night. That pretty much sells anyplace for me.

After the alleged bowling alley, we hit up Chelsea Grill for some karaoke. This time around though there was no "I like big butts and I cannot lie." Which is sad. I can't believe I didn't think of it. We were entertained by Ray and Maria though, who both have amazing voices. Maria sang a Janet Jackson song and a few black girls looked her up and down when she stepped to the mic, like who does this girl think she is. But after Maria sang her first line they were like "Oh shit!!!" Exactly.

On Sunday, about 20 of us met at the Comic Strip Live for Steve's actual birthday party. Though a few of us had an inkling, we were still pleasantly surprised when Steve himself took the stage as one of the comics. His act was really funny. I love that guy. And I have to give props to him, especially considering it's a hobby versus a career, it takes balls of steel to get up on stage and do stand-up comedy. Huge, boulder-like cojones.

I just flew in from Australia and boy are my arms tired.

The host and first comedians were all good, but towards the end of the line-up the talent started waning and I got hungry. You all know by now how that works out. I tried to hide behind Loni and get a couple of winks in during one of the more boring "regular" comedians (Bush jokes are pretty old by now, especially when you're ripping off Jon Stewart) but Geo tapped me awake. Spoilsport. It was a bit weird though, because some of the comedians were a bit serious. One of the comedians asked me what the secret was to maintaining your energy as a parent and I replied "Crystal Meth" and she looked at me as if I was serious. Um, okay. If I were going to be admitting to some type of drug addiction, that wouldn't be the forum I would do it in. One thing that was funny though was that she also asked me if Geo was one of those lazy fathers and I said most twin fathers have to be hands-on. You just have to go "hold this, bitch." But then I realized later on that it came out as "Hold this bitch." HAHAHAHA. Oh fuck I think she was going to call children services on me after the show. It's rare that two-year-olds are bitches though. Except this one kid down the street who always rides her tricycle by our house like she's all that.

The comedian who was ripping off Jon Stewart started going on about some tribute he was making to Bono. Tired, annoyed and hungry I said sarcastically to myself "Why, is he dead." Except that as usual, I didn't say it to myself the way I planned and by the time my comment reached the comedian like some ridiculous game of telephone, he thought I was seriously asking if Bono was dead. Idiot. Yeah, I get my news from crappy comedians. What? There were no weapons of mass destruction found in Iraq? New Orleans got hit by a bad hurricane?

Luckily, the line-up was saved by some guy who we thought may be retarded but it was part of his schtick. You all know how immature me and my friends are. Of course we're going to approve of the guy who pretends to be a retarded guy hitting on some girl, and asking her under his breath if he can jizz on her face. This guy had us rolling, I almost needed CPR but the guy probably would have jizzed on me after and not called the next day. Never a good experience.

All in all it was an awesome weekend. I'm really tired. But I hope they come back soon. Or better yet, pull a Steve and move to New York.

I don't know why, but a lot of us were scrunching
over in this picture. Like we're so tall.

Happy Anniversary To Us

Happy Anniversary To Us

The reason I postponed the show to tonight is because yesterday was me and Geo's anniversary. Three years of official matrimony and counting. Every year Geo picks out some nice restaurant, we get gussied up and have ourselves some romance. Our other romantic moments during the year come in the form of a special smile, holding hands while watching our daughters run around and play, a kiss after a particularly rousing game of Guitar Hero. This is the one night we actually shell out the duckets for it.

Last night we went to the Highlawn Pavilion, on the peak of the Eagle Rock Reservation in West Orange. The restaurant is on the edge of the mountain, overlooking New Jersey and the entire Manhattan skyline. On a side note, during WWI Thomas Edison worked in the building, for various classified Navy projects.

The first thing we noticed when we walked in is that
Geo had dressed appropriately. Colorwise, he matched the
northern Tuscan villa decor perfectly.

The dining room was gorgeous and the service was wonderful. As an appetizer we ordered the "Samples of The Sea" which was an assortment of Maine lobster, crab claws, oysters, shrimp and colossal crabmeat served with ginger cocktail sauce and a balsamic vinaigrette for dipping. We got a bottle of their Tuscan Pinot Grigo, which tasted wonderful, especially with the crab and lobster. For our entrees, Geo had the shrimp ravioli with shaved fennel and two caviars, while I went with the chicken stuffed with vegetable mousse, baby spinach and garlic mashed potatoes with black truffle sauce.

The shrimp ravioli was really heavy and it was covered
with little Nemo eggs. Naturally we had to mention it each
and every time we took a bite. "Just keep swimming."

I normally prefer red wine but recently I'm starting to
acquire a taste for white wine. I think it has to do with the
lobster that seems to come with it. Also, my dress cost 14 bucks.

For dessert Geo had the Amerena cherry chocolate mousse dome with mocha sauce, and I had the... yes. Trilogy of Creme Brulee in coffee, orange and vanilla flavors. The orange one was tart and took a little getting used to, the coffee one was strong and the vanilla one, I would cup my hands together and eat by the barrel.

Most people don't realize that the answer to the often-debated
question "Is there a God" is "Yes, look at dessert."

During the meal, Geo and I decided to extend the night and go see a movie, something we both love doing together but rarely get to. We asked the maitre d' if there was a theatre nearby and he responded "You're going to see a movie on your anniversary?" And then in my head I responded "Do you WANT to get knocked out at work?" But you know, somehow I think polite society would frown upon brawling at four-star restaurants. Sigh. But we did top off the night with some Poseidon. All in all, a wonderful night spent with the man I love most in the world.

Geo took this in the theatre. We're such dorks.
That's why we get along so well.

Flipping the Bird and Cubicle Pet Peeves

Flipping the Bird and Cubicle Pet Peeves

But first... If I were a movie character, I'd never listen to opera. People in movies always die while they're listening to opera. Apparently it attracts people with guns. I love opera so I'd totally be that person offed during the eighth line of "O Mio Babbino Caro."

My friend Deb's friend Chris and his sponsors are donating 50 cents to a couple cancer research charities every time someone sends in a picture of themselves giving the finger, as part of their "Flip Cancer The Bird" campaign. I'm on board!

Please forgive the just-woke-upingness.
And obviously, that is the much vaunted Orange Bang shirt.

I made a new blogfriend today named Nicole. I asked Kwame if there's some sort of limit I can have on black friends named Nicole but he said that if I continue to refer to Nicky in L.A. as Nicky, and this new one as Nicole, it should be okay. Secretly you know he's displeased. He and Nicky think they've cornered the market on my black friends, just as Paul and Mike J think they've cornered the market on my white friends. What they all don't realize is that I'm secretly a member of groups like the Black Panthers and the Official Michael Flatley Lord of the Dance Fan Club, just so I can keep my diversity numbers up. Hoo-wah!

Anyway, Nicole asked people what their cubicle pet peeves were and my response in her comments was so long I decided to repost it here:

1. When someone comes up behind you and stays quiet because they're watching you do something unimportant. Okay what, you need fricken proof that I do nothing all day, for self-validation?

2. There was this chick who used to sit across from me and blab on the phone all the live long day (and believe me, once she moved to that cube the days became longer indeed) about Survivor of all things. Jesus. At least pick a show the people around you like. Sometimes I'd stare at my pencil and wonder if killing her with it was worth the time in prison. What if the chick in the cell next to me watches Survivor. That'd be some fucked up shit right there.

3. People who walk by and set things on your cubicle. What is this, a rest stop? Get your coffee off my cubicle before it spills onto all this work I haven't done because I've been e-mailing friends porn all day.

4. Friends who come by and talk about personal things REALLY LOUD. I mean hello, at least keep up the appearance that we're chatting about work and not how this guy you went out with last night makes Tommy Lee look like he went for a swim in December.

5. People who make cracks about the stuff decorating your cubicle. What, do I come over to yours and say shit like "Wow... there's nothing here. You must have no life, no friends and no personality."

6. People who stand in your cubicle's um, driveway and have personal conversations that don't include you. Yes it's technically a public place but would you have a picnic on your neighbor's sidewalk?

7. Those almost-friends who come by yet have nothing to say are a tad annoying. It's like they either want you to entertain them like a unicycle-riding monkey OR they have some sort of ulterior motive. Like scoping out someone a few cubicles away. Hey I'll help you do ass recon (quietly), but let me know what the gameplan is okay?

8. When your boss decides to stand at your cube and ream you for something. At least have the decency to do it in your office. But no, that would defeat the purpose, which is to remind everyone in hearing distance that you are THE BOSS and I am THE PEON. Really though all it does is remind people that you are THE TOOL and I am THE ONE WHO WILL BE QUITTING SOON.

9. People who talk on speaker phone all the damn time. Unless you are actively defusing a bomb (in which case let me know so I can get the fuck out of the building), there should be no cause for this. Not even if you are on a conference call. That's what the conference rooms are for. Conferences.

10. Guys who walk by your cubicle eight times a day while checking you out, and maintain eye contact the entire time. What do they think, that we're in some seventies pron flick. That maybe after the third or fourth time I'll get up, start taking my clothes off and say "Why don't I help you with those copies." Two seconds tops is all we should be look sharing, as you stroll by my territory.

I have to add more based on the comments:

11. When you're sitting in your cubicle eating lunch, and someone comes up to talk to you about work. It's bad enough they're interrupting your meal but to interrupt it to talk about work compounds the grievance. It already sucks that I wasn't able to take an actual lunch break, now this person has to make me talk about the quarterly budget meeting while my burger and fries sit there getting cold? Plus there are few things grosser than cold fast food. It's like the heat is the only thing keeping the taste and texture in.

12. People who make a production out of work discussions. Non-coincidentally, these are also the same people who use crappy office terminology.

Antarctica

Antarctica

Last night Geo and I hit up Antarctica Bar on Hudson and Spring, for a charity fundraiser my friend Cris helped organize. Cris had asked me earlier if I wanted to be a guest bartender and naturally, anything to do with liquor is a go. Although asking me to guard liquor is like asking a lion to guard a limping zebra, but whatever.

Some notes:

-There was this creepy guy there who was hitting on every woman in the bar. His actions were of much interest to the rest of us. At one point he cornered this really nice lady and Geo told me I should save her. As if bartenders have some sort of legal obligation to save patrons from excess sleaze. I very selfishly refused, knowing that any provided assistance would only ensare me in his creepy trap. Dave from Maximum Awesome tried to stick me with the task of helping His Royal Creepiness but my self-preservation skills are pretty diesel.

Kwame: He's like on the All-Star Team of Creepy.
Me: HAHAHA! He's "All-Creepy, All Team."

-The real bartender despised me on sight. I of course, was super nice to her in return because that's even more funny than reciprocating with bitchiness. Take away their ammo and all they're left holding is a big jar of petty dislike. She was sweet to all the other guest bartenders though, even showed them where everything was and how to make drinks. Woman are so triflin' sometimes.

-I bullied Kwame's wife into doing a SoCo and lime shot. After she was done, the older white woman next to us said "You go girl" and went in for an enthusiastic high five. I just about died from trying not to laugh. Black people have to deal with serious issues with regards to race, but they also have to deal with some funny as hell ones. "You go girl" even. Hee. The woman and her husband were really great people though.

-Dave and I were both dying to use the random bartending tools around. Like the strainer thing with the slinky attached. I finally used it, thus breaking with me and Dave's Offical Bartending Plan. We had decided prior to jumping behind the bar that no matter what anyone asked us for, he was just going to hand them a Coors Light and I was just going to give them a shot of Jaeger. "This bar sucks. That bartender only gives out crappy beer and that other one is even worse."

-The owner of the bar is actually friends with some people I used to work with. This mutual friendship resulted in free Antarctica T-shirts for Geo and Kwame. Their combined happiness over this was a bit scary to behold. The owner is actually pretty lucky that Cris didn't manage to convince anyone to do a cartwheel on top of the bar for 10 bucks. Liabilities and all.

-Min showed up for a hot second during which we made plans to stalk Jesse L Martin in Tribeca. Mike J showed up late and was actually going to leave after one coke. He decided to stay and break his liquor embargo, which had been in effect since the night a couple of weeks ago that he drank so much he passed out on the purloined White Castle doormat outside Steve's bathroom.

-I subjected everyone to some Dragostea Din Tei. Thank Heaven for those new-fangled jukeboxes with a jillion song choices. Although it took forever to pick songs, since reading while drunk is like trying to watch a silent movie upside-down. Also, I was in the perfect drunken pool land. I am the Goldilock's of bar pool. Too much or too little liquor and nothing is going in the hole. Yeah yeah make the jokes.

-To celebrate our meeting for the first time (I'd hung out with Cris and Heide once before but Dave, Alix and company were new) we did Dr. Peppers. To drink a Dr. Pepper you take a glass of light beer 3/4ths full, drop a shot of amaretto in it and then down the whole thing. It's even more potent when they're flaming, meaning you coat the amaretto on top with Bacardi 151 then light it on fire. Once, I convinced a barful of people to do them with me and when it splashed, the bar caught fire with the blue flame. I paused in mid-drink, blew out the fire and then finished downing the drink. Hey, with great power comes great responsibility.

Geo, me, Kwame and Kesha. I tried to get Kesha nice and liquored up
for Kwam. That's what friends are for.


Dave had a stoge in his mouth and a Guinness in his hand for much of the night. I like him.


Photographic evidence of the shot Kesha actually drank. It took a few tries
but finally, with everyone egging her on, she gave in. "Everyone's doing it."


Me, Cris and Heide. And Alix is right, I do like hugging girls.
It's because I know they're not going to poke me with anything.


An action shot of the Dr. Pepper fun.
Kevin (in the glasses) even participated, like any good pub owner should.


Me, Dave, Alix, Cris and Heide looking like "real people" versus message board avatars.

All in all, good times.