Crazy is as Crazy Does

Where would my blog be without the 99 cents store and Los Angeles’ and New York’s transient populations? Score this one for the transients.* So, I was at a coffee shop a few days ago and a man was outside mumbling to himself. Did I mention the flowers? Yes he was holding a bushel of flowers. Now when I say mumble, I don’t mean…“did I cut the stove off?” type mumbling. No, I mean a full on conversation with himself albeit indiscernible and inaudible to passersby. So, mumbling in this case is more about my ability to hear him and less about him trying to be discrete.

I stepped outside for a second and he turned his attention toward me. He offered a flower, I think. I couldn’t understand his words but he extended a flower toward me. I of course declined as I don’t trust flowers from unknown sources.

QSN: Every Since I saw The Invasion of the Body Snatchers movie I never sniff or handle flowers from disreputable suppliers. (You see, in that movie the body snatchers entered the body through flowers. A person would sniff the flowers and next thing you know a monster is popping out their stomach screaming “What you talkin’ about Willis?!”)

Besides my reluctance to handle flowers, I also could not understand a word this man spoke. But his tone seemed friendly and heartfelt. I couldn’t tell if he was talking gibberish (or, to be fair, his own made up language. I mean Elfin isn’t gibberish after all) or an actual language spoken in another country.

Maybe he was part of a crazy transient exchange program, like a semester outside abroad. Maybe there’s an English speaking transient in Prague right now sharing his theory on cardboard’s plan to take over the world to a Czech, not understanding but nodding politely while writing a blog about it.

*Transient – Politically correct way of saying homeless. Or perhaps a less guilt ridden way of saying homeless.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homelessness

**Invasion Of the Body Snatchers
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0077745/synopsis

QSN – Quick Side Note

Video Blog 5/Comedians on Call

Comedians on Call from backstage at Late Night with Conan O'Brien.

Video Blog 5/ Comedians on Call

Dwayne Perkins Video Blog 4

Dwayne Perkins Video Blog 3

Comedians on Call 3 with help from Butch Bradley and Dan Gabriel. Live from Okinawa. Enjoy!

George Carlin

We lost George Carlin earlier this week. For those of you not familiar with his work, I urge you to check out his great legacy of stand-up and writing. Before I even became a comic or knew I wanted to or could be a stand-up, George Carlin blew my mind and offered new ways of thinking and being. George Carlin was and will always be what so many profess to be but aren’t, an artist and person whose life, art and words were always consistent, fair and true; even if they weren’t popular or soothing. His points were always reflective of how he felt and never just what people wanted to hear. And he did it all with insanely efficient razor sharp wit, mad passion and massive charm. In this day and age so much art is designed using reverse engineering and marketing plans and people make hollow points to people they know already agree with them. We should all learn from the example he set. He spoke truth and let that alone be his reward.

He also never tried to pass on gratuitousness as provocative-ness. I see so many comics feigning anger or making obvious points with attitude and smugness that would suggest their taking risks or pushing the envelope but their only standing in place loudly. It’s not my goal to expose comics but more to shine the light on Carlin’s greatness. He paved the way for the rest of us to talk about whatever we want and to be brazen and fearless. George Carlin will always be my personal favorite and the world of comedy rests on his tiny shoulders.

We can’t all be Carlin but we can all be true to ourselves and use our mental faculties to question things, ultimately enriching our lives and mankind as a whole.

I had the pleasure of meeting George Carlin. He was kind and friendly and true to the words he spoke on stage.

Thank you Mr. Carlin, there will never be another like you but I for one will forever be inspired by your radiance. We will miss you.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

This is sort of the flip side of a blog I wrote a while back. I went to a Yankee game yesterday (BX Stand up), picture perfect day to catch a ball game (74 and partly cloudy.) Luckily, the Yankees won and I was with one of my laid back homies. What ended pretty well had actually started out quite stressful.

I was running a little late. Not late for the game but late for our meeting time. We wanted to meet 2 hours before the game started because it was cap day at Yankee Stadium. But only the 1st 15 thousand get a cap. Mind you, Yankee stadium holds well over 50 thousand people. I’m typically not a get somewhere 2 hours ahead of time kind of guy. But, I wanted a hat and definitely didn’t want to prevent my buddy from getting a hat. My reason for running late? I tried to sneak in a quick Tae Bo On-Demand session in the morning to “earn” the right to pig out at the game.

So, bad judgment call notwithstanding I run up to the gate to meet my friend with plenty of time to get a hat and chill out before the game started. But, instead of just checking my bag the people at the gate make me go across the street and check my bag in at some random after game pub. There’s some weird no bag policy at Yankee stadium that I still don’t understand as I counted at least 30 bags once I got in. Seems like some racket to help the fledging bag check company across the street.

I try to plea my case but it feels almost like airport security. Like, if I kept protesting, I would’ve been rewarded with a cavity search. And not the kind dentists give you. But they let purses in and certain kinds of bags in. Not like you could ever conceal a weapon in a purse. Or put stolen items in a purse for that matter. Get real Yankee stadium. There’s no way you can handle 30 thousand bags being checked which, to me, indicates that only some are checked thus making the whole thing extremely silly and suspect. In a non driving city like New York sometimes you have to bring all your stuff for the day with you: book, jacket, umbrella, fig newtons etc. So basically my book bag is a socially acceptable man purse. And, since they were letting purses in. I should have been allowed to enter with my…ahem…book bag. Or I could have just bought a purse and risked even greater scrutiny from the New Yorkers.

NEW YORK DUDE: Hey get a load of twinkle toes with the purse over there. Hey, Rupaul, where’s the drag show…

I think not. I run across the street check the bag and run back into the stadium, only to be 5th in line when they ran out of free hats. Keep it together.

Fine, I rarely wear baseball hats anyway, time to enjoy the game get a hot dog and root the pinstripes. I wait in line for 15 minutes to get a hot dog and soda only to be told the hot dogs are not ready. Not ready?! Did you guys not know there was a game today? An hour before the game and they’re not ready. That’s all you have to say? Its one thing to have your quiche in the oven as dinner guests arrive but it’s a travesty to not have hot dogs ready to go for 40 thousand crazed fans that were overcharged and hatless. So I grabbed an ice cream, reversing the order I had in mind.

QSN: Can we stop calling those ice cream dipping dots* the ice cream of the future and just call them the ice cream of today. They’ve been the ice cream of the future for about 15 years now. The jig is up.

Come on Yankees; don’t force me into going to only small market and minor league games. In the end my friend did get a hat, the Yankees won and I look better without a hat anyway.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game
Take 50 bucks for nose bleed seats
Make me check my book bag ‘cross the street
Wait in long line for dogs not ready to eat
Root, Root, Root for the home team
They better win cause I’m damn near bankrupt

Well, it’s 1,2,3 strikes –
Uh hell no! I paid too much to be up in this piece. My beer is warm and I took out a 2nd mortgage for these cold ass chicken fingers. I better see some home runs. I better see the skin ripped off the ball-

At the old ball game

* http://www.dippindots.com/company/

Casing Your Every Move

I ran into an ex neighbor of mine in Starbucks. He shared with me the joys and pains of home ownership. Then we ran the gamut of all the perfunctory small talk and right on unspoken cue he got up to leave, slipping me his business card as he rose. I guess just in case we needed to pick up our weather conversation at a later date. After all, our discourse hadn’t touched upon humidity or barometric pressure.

I actually had no idea what he did for a living. Turns out, he’s a private investigator. His card says “Private Investigator” and he’s not kidding. Very cool. I actually had a parking spot adjacent to a Private Eye, a real life Gumshoe. This is the makings of an action movie trailer……

In a world where the line between good guys and bad guys was blurred…one man set off on his own to re-draw the line. Make the line more distinct…kinda like pro wrestling in the 80’s….anyway… To make the world a better place, he gave up his badge and became….Dwayne’s neighbor- the private eye.

On top of it all, he’s a brother. Wow a black private eye, super hero must be right around the corner. I better get fitted for my tights.

Dwayne Perkins Video Blog 2

Comedians on Call 2. Dwayne on Fame

Comedian on Call...My 1st Video Blog

http://youtube.com/watch?v=xiNXVW9_fe0

A Place for Everything & Everything in It’s Place

Whenever I try to clean my room my bed becomes a holding bay for all the items and paperwork without a home. After everything else is fairly straighten up I'm usually left with a bed full of knick knacks that I don't want to throw away yet have no place to put. Sometimes I just leave them on the bed…indefinitely. Good thing I have a Full size bed. I basically have 2 adjacent twin size beds. Like a 60's sitcom husband and wife. Except, my wife is a PBS programming guide some mango insence I bought in Hawaii 3 years ago but never burned.

QSN:I actually have never burned insence. Why would I ever buy insence? It's just like that Kente clothe vest I copped back in 93. I had to know somewhere deep inside that I would never wear it. Did I think I would get invited to an NAACP African themed awards show?

Tidying up is cool but what I really need is a complete make over. When I do upgrade my stuff, it's going be hard to know where to start. I actually started already though. Your boy got himself a flat screen. Not sure if I really need a 32" LCD High Def TV to watch Seinfeld and Kramer re-runs but what the heck. But now the TV looks like it showed up to the wrong party. Like a guy in a tux who shows up at a Hawaiian shirt kegger. Because of the TV I had to get a nice stand to put it on. But now my nightstand has to go. It's bringing down the property value. And that cardboard box can no longer double as a desk. This TV is sure costing me a lot of money.

Maybe I could get one of those TV shows to come and fix up my place. Although, I don't think my story is compelling enough. Maybe they'll come once they hear my latest announcement.

***I'M STARTING A VIDEO BLOG****

That's right! Hence the room clean. Although, I may be reporting live from my bathroom or living room. Any whoo. I figure I would take questions from the masses. And by massed I mean 20 people who read my blog and each week answer one of them via video. The questions can be about anything: relationships, economics, politics, sports… you get the picture. So please email or Myspace me with your questions.
Here goes nothing….

QSN: Quick Side Note

What I Really Want to Know Is…

So there’s this guy on the Today show last week with an incredible memory.* He remembers everything in his life from age 11 on, and he’s probably in his late forties. He remembers the time, date and day of every event in his life. He also can tell you things like what day of the week it will be when he turns seventy-five. He knows all the upcoming leap years and lunar eclipses. All this without any thought.

A guy with this kind of mind must work for NASA or teach at MIT right? But when Matt Lauder asks memory Man what he does for a living, he says he’s between jobs. I know slackers with negative motivation who don’t go a week without landing a gig. Why didn’t memory man lie? Say you’re a consultant. Say you’re working on a project. Say you’re a freelancer. Heck, Say you’re an actor or a comedian. But please don’t be on national TV touting your mental prowess and follow it up by saying you’re unemployed.

He should just rent himself out for Trivial Pursuit or those trivia games in the bars. I would pay him to feed me answers into an earpiece.

MY FRIEND1: Why is Dwayne betting on Trivial Pursuit?
MYFRIEND2: So unlike Dwayne but I’m gonna take his money because how much could he possibly know about Australian Aborigine culture?
DWAYNE: I believe the answer is Corroboree. Pay up!!... What?...Nothing’s in my ear. Ok…game over…time for you guys to leave.

I just hope this guy’s connection with his past hasn’t robbed him of his future…or present for that matter.

*Memory Man Rick Baron
http://www.usatoday.com/news/health/2008-05-12-super-memory_n.htm

Oh My Stars

I am writing this blog from my hotel room in Dubai. You know what it is. Anyway, it's a beautiful place and my hotel room over looks the beach and another hotel called the Burj Al Arab. It's supposedly the world's only 7 star hotel. Mind you, I think five stars is the highest they go. I'm not sure what they did/do to skip 6 and go straight to 7 stars. I mean my hotel is probably 4 or 5 stars and I can barely do anything myself. They're accomodating to the point of annoyance.

Ultimately, there's got to be diminishing returns on these stars. One, I can only imagine how much a 7 star hotel costs. (i'm not paying for my room btw. You know what it is:-) Two, the more stars you have the closer you get to not being alive or maybe being an infant. At 10 stars someone baths you and puts a diaper on you. At 11, they chew your food for you then transfer it to your mouth. 14 stars you get pushed around on a gurney all day. I mean there's luxury and then there's high cost butt kissing.

I never even understood turn down service. They come in your room, leave a chocolate and crease the corner of your bed spread. Ohhh, that's how you get inside the sheets. All this time at home I've been sleeping on top of the comforter with a jacket on. Turn down service is like having a person just dedicated to keeping your bookmark. Ahh, I'm done with my reading tonight. Belvedere, you mind making a crease on page 216?

Turn down service is just an excuse for them to come check your mini bar. How about they make the mini bar reasonable and they won't have to pay someone to spy on you every night. The money they lose on the 600% mark-ups they would make back on not paying the nightly chocolate spy.Maybe I would be singing a different tune if I was sitting on a heated toilet seat or had a bed that smells of Apple Blossoms and makes you have happy dreams. Maybe.

QSN:Shout out to all the great people in Dubai and all their help and kindess. Especially my driver who helped get find a power plug for my laptop.

QSN:The picture was taken from my room's balcony. Don't be hatin'.

QSN -Quick Side Note

Jane, Stop This Crazy Thing

Earlier this year, I was at my local gym on a gorgeous Los Angeles day. This was the kind of day you call your friends and family back east and brag about.

LA BRAGGER: You shoveled snow today? That’s too bad. It’s picture perfect here. I’m in shorts and a tank top and a butterfly landed on my hand just as 8 supermodels came up and asked me for directions. They thought the butterfly was sooo cute...or was that me they said was cute? I can’t remember but I’m hanging with them later so I’ll ask them then….Did I mention the smell of Lilac wafting through the air?

The weather is Los Angeles’ ace in the hole. It’s the one thing that almost offsets the traffic, earthquakes, mudslides, fires and flakes.

I completed my light-weight but high rep circuit training and was about to leave and soak up some LA rays. On my way out I noticed a long line for the treadmills. On a picture perfect day people were waiting in line to run in place. When I say perfect, I don’t mean hot. I mean perfect, 72 and sunny with a warm breeze. These people are akin to the mice that won’t leave their cage even when it’s open.

I didn’t even have a gym membership my first 5 years in LA. I only got one to get my light-weight pump on when I’m on the road.

These are the same people who go to a gallery to look at pictures of the landscape they just drove through to get to the gallery.

Please, no comments about impact on the knees. So Cal has more parks than you can shake a Red Vine at.

At least George Jetson had the whole no atmosphere excuse for his treadmill escapades. *

*Pic of George Jetson on the treadmill:
http://www.animationusa.com/picts/hbpict/hp02/2_Jane-Stop.jpg

Pretty Crazy in Pink

You can file this under “Only in LA.” I recently saw a woman wearing all pink at a commercial audition. (We weren’t going in for the same thing) Everything was pink: her outfit, accessories and even her dog. Yes, she had a Pink dog. My uncanny ability to ease drop on nearby conversations was not well served. With no headphones or way to stop my brain and ears from teaming up, I was at their mercy to capture then process the Lady in Pink’s conversation. Without a hint of irony Ms Pink told another lady waiting that she dyes her dog with Beet juice once a month to achieve the Pink coat.

The really sad part: the other woman was intrigued and I’m pretty sure was making a mental note of the beet brew. So Ms Pink is spreading her gospel. I guess I’m spreading her gospel too. I trust none of my readers are going to use this beet juice knowledge for evil.

This is a clear case of style gone wild. There’s simply not enough hugging in this world. Please hug someone today. You might save a dog from a beet juice baptism and a doggie sweater. Now you know why the dog is Man’s best friend.

QSN: The dog was a poodle. But you knew that. I wrote a blog about beets a while back. It’s actually good to see someone find some use for beets, aka the most disgusting food known to man. **

**Blog Warp to my previous post on beets.

Trans Trucker

Last week I saw a guy in Starbucks in LA, a normal trucker looking guy with a beard, gray shirt and jeans on. What’s so odd about that you ask? Well, on top of what I already described this guy also had on a long brown wig and he had boobs. Is he butch or just the laziest transvestite in the history of men dressing fabulous? Other than the boobs and wig he was as normal and guy acting as a guy can be. It was like The Cable guy meets Rupaul. At one point he asked someone to watch his laptop while he went to the restroom, but without a hint of acknowledging his freakish appearance. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he had boobs. He even had a deep man voice he wasn’t trying to hide. There was nothing feminine about him other than, well…the boobage and wig. I felt like telling him he had boobs the same way you tell a friend they’ve got mustard on their cheek.

ME: Dude you got a little boob stuff going on right there….No, it’s still there…to the left...here just let me get it…

The best part of living in LA and being from New York...not only did people not care they didn’t even acknowledge him. Trucker guy with boobs? Outstanding. Now back to my Rooibos tea.

Now contrast this guy with the things that make you self conscious. Not even close.

99 problems But Inflation Ain’t One…Hit Me!

My friend recently called me up in arms saying that the 99cents* store had gone up in price. Turns out what my friend the alarmist was referring to was a few items that used to be 2 for a $.99 now cost 59 cents each. I didn’t have the heart or energy to point out to my friend that 59 cents is less than 99 cents. No, he can take that up with his 2nd grade teacher.

At some point though, won’t the 99 cents store have to change its name to the One dollar and 29 cents store? I mean when cars fly, robot computers cook breakfast for you and gas is $8 dollars a gallon can the 99 cents store still exist? A pair of no name sneakers costs $150 dollars but I can still get a half gallon of baby powder for a buck? It doesn’t add up. Or maybe the product sizes will just get smaller….

CASHIER: Ok...a slice of bologna and a small hand full of Pepperidge farm goldfish crackers…That’ll be One dollar and 98 cents, sir.

QSN: The 99cents stores in Los Angeles are way different than the ones I’ve seen in other cities. In New York for instance, the dollar store will have stuff like faded Dukes of Hazzard Placemats, or broken Joey Lawrence lunch boxes. I write about the LA 99 cents store because it’s a place for real bargains. And they’re even traded on the Stock Market. 99 cents a share :-) And no, they don’t pay me.

QSN: Quick Side Note.

* http://www.99only.com/

I was recently cruising down the 405 in beautiful Los Angeles...rewind…Ok, I was recently in bumper to bumper traffic on the 405 with my windows up to reduce my intake of the infamous LA Smog. I was perusing through my preset radio stations searching for the perfect song to take my mind off my potentially frustrating stagnant state. The batteries in my radio transmitter that plays my mp3 player on an empty radio station were dead. So I was at the mercy of my factory installed 6 preset radio sans CD player, satellite radio or even cassette player for that matter.

Now, I don’t hit a good song and stop. I’m too optimistic/hard to please to have my in-car radio strategy be that simple. I go through all the presets and sample what’s being played. Only after ensuring I know the best song currently playing (with at least a minute of play time left of course) then and only then do I settle in to the best song available and get my groove on.

This can be frustrating to passengers in the car with me but luckily on this day I was alone and in rare preset jump around mode. Then, I came across Soul to Soul’s "Back To Life" and from the beginning at that.
However do you want me….However do you need me...

This song was the perfect ailment to my traffic woes. But you have to play by your own rules, right? What was I to do? Could I really do better that Soul to Soul at this very moment? After, letting the intro play (I’m not a masochist) I decided to let it ride and change the station. I mean it was possible that "Midnight train to Georgia", "Let’s Get It On", "Ain’t No Stopping Us Now" or maybe even some MJ might be playing.

With a press of my index finger I jumped to another preset only to hear Soul to Soul’s Keep on Moving blaring, also from the beginning. I was in a can’t lose and can’t win situation all at once. Either way I would jam out with a bonafide crazy joint* and miss out on a song that was bananas.

In the end I went with "Keep On Moving"…yellow is the color of sunrays.

My system’s not perfect.

*Crazy Joint - a really good song. Usually one that makes you want to move.

Deuces Wild

Most people only ”go” away from home only if they are in a dire situation. I on the other hand prefer “going” away from home. I only need moderate cleanliness and I’m good. And by moderate I mean nothing alive or moving.

I see the downside of not controlling the environment where the deed takes place. For me though the benefits outweigh the danger. You save a gang on TP. You save on water and possible plumbing problems, depending on how you get down. And you delay when you next have to clean up your spot. Plus, you save your home from the toxic avenger (aka - the output from the garbage most of us eat.) If I have Jack in the Box, then spicy Thai food and follow that up with refried beans, I want to find a locale as far away from my home as possible. I don’t shame easily. Plus, you can always leave a public restroom with a look of disgust, blaming it on the guy that came in after you. You just have to make a production of it.

ME: That guy currently in there needs to see a doctor or something. That guy has issues, the one that came in after me, that is. It’s like he had spicy Thai food and washed it down with refried beans! Damn dude have some mercy on the rest of us! You can’t take some people nowhere.

I have done my business in the oddest places. I put my resume up against anyone. A cement outhouse in Afghanistan, A bathroom in a South African precinct, no tp btw (that fluffy rabbit still hasn’t forgiven me J, a squatter in Hong Kong. A ratty LA bar with no stall door where anyone who walked in could see my knees.

People fear public speaking more than death. I wonder where public “going” stands on that list.

Baby Mama Sans Drama

I performed in Salt Lake City, Utah last weekend.* The state is 50% Mormon. You may be familiar with Mormonism from those feel-good, do the right thing, love thy neighbor commercials back in the eighties and nineties…He told the truth..I told the truth…You might also know from just living or from the HBO show Big Love that Mormonism allows for multiple wives. Most Mormons don’t get down like that anymore but there are a few holdovers from back when it was “acceptable.”

This led me to an idea…I know many guys from around my way in Brooklyn who have several Baby Mamas. Seems it would add more credence and dignity to their situation if they started telling people they were Mormon. I’m not trifling, just devoted. People are way more understanding if what you’re doing has a name and a group attached to it. One guy holding a sign and screaming is crazy. A bunch of people, holding a bunch of signs and screaming is protesting.

And if anyone points out that baby mamas aren’t wives, then the guys can say that they’re buffet Mormons. I dabble…

*Big up to Wiseguys Comedy Club

Chicken Run

Last night I decided to go through the Jack in the Box drive-thru. I really just wanted one $1 chicken sandwich to take the edge off. (just something to hold me over until I got home, where a can of Target Chicken Noodle soup was screaming my name. Yes they sell Chicken Noodle soup at Target and yes there is a Target brand.)

QSN: I’m pretty sure 50 years ago people never envisioned a place where you could buy: a humidifier, guitar strings, a gazebo, frozen turkey legs and an active gortex fleece hoodie all under the same roof. (maybe Macy’s but no food there and the main one in NYC has 9 floors. Target defies the time space continuum by somehow having all that crap on one floor, in most cases)

There was a big Suburban in front of me in the drive-thru line, taking way too long. I thought maybe it was the special order guy. You know the type, it’s Jack in the Box but they think it’s a five star restaurant. Now tell me about your barbecue sauce. Are we talking hickory…*

So my quick chicken run became a test of patience. Luckily, I had Lily Allen’s Smile on repeat on my mp3 player. I finally get to the window and I see the guy in front of me ordered 64 dollars worth of food. This was Sunday at midnight, BTW. When I got to the speaker I ordered 2 $1 chicken sandwiches. Somehow, I felt ridiculous ordering one $1 dollar sandwich after waiting 10 minutes and yet I couldn’t go crazy cause the chicken soup with the bulls eye on it was waiting in the wings.

$64 dollars?! Was it jumbo jack fiesta night down at the local orphanage? I really hope the Suburban was ordering for ten or more people. Even after I got my lowly chicken sandwiches the Suburban was still off to the side doing inventory. I’m pretty sure a spread sheet and price gun was involved.

I should have had a Snicker.

QSN: Quick Side Note
* I ask a lot of questions when I order but that’s mainly in sit down places. I respect the sanctimony of speed and ease that is the drive thru.

Enough With The Up Sell

I think I’m going to get some shirts made up that say “DON’T UP SELL ME” on the front in bold letters. It would save me a lot of time during the day. No matter what you’re buying they are always trying to sell you a more, shall I say, “premium” deal. Just rifle through my pockets and get it over with.

Wanna go large...For only 3 more dollars a day you could…Wanna try our deluxe…We also offer…before you hang up, wanna join our gold protection...that one is ok but to really enjoy HD…Oh that button doesn’t work with your plan, but to activate it…

I’m sure that if you hired Dr Kevorkian* to kill you, right before he did he would say…

DR KEVORKIAN: You know for an additional hundred I can make this euthanasia even quicker and even less painful. You’ll take it?...Great! Now for an additional grand I can cure you and eliminate the need to kill you. It’s only a grand more!

If the latter service they try to pawn off on you is so great and the former so not and strictly for losers then the question becomes…why do they even have the former. So the thing you already sold me is trash?

The other problem with all this up selling is that it makes the lines go that much slower. I just want the base model but now I have to stand there for 12 minutes while a hard of earring 80 year old women toys with the idea of getting satellite radio, road side assistance and a sunroof on her mercury Topaz car rental.

No place is this more prevalent that the Post Office-----àWARP BLOG***

At least Vegas works in reverse. They down sell you until you have nothing but your shattered dreams left. In Vegas there’s nickel and penny slots in the airport. It’s like they’re saying…why even bother taking that nickel home. Come on, fork it over. Would you leave a swig of Kool Aid in the container? No you would finish it off. Give it here.

*Kevorkian – Doctor who assisted terminally ill people commit suicide
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_Kevorkian

*** A new thing I do when a blog inspires another blog. It’s for when a Quick Side Note takes on a life all its own….Or am I trying to up sell you to read another free blog? Look for this blog’s WARP in a day or two.

You May Not Have a Car at All…

But remember brothers and sisters you can still stand tall.*
There’s so much to be thankful for, even if you don’t get down with the silly Pilgrim/Indian angle.

PILGRIM: Enjoy your Turkey Chief Running Out Of Time…It might be your last.

Still though, minus the Turkey and marketing slant, there’s much to be thankful for. I’m thankful for all you folks who read my blog and for all the people you have told and are going to tell others about my blog (hint hint) . Thanks for having a meeting of the minds with me in cyberspace. And thanks for the comments. I read them and they crack me up.

Two people are popping into my head a lot today on this Thanksgiving eve.

Lawrence Lee**, who drove me to work and back everyday for over a month when I didn’t have a car. And I wasn’t on his way. He lived close to work but drove almost a ½ hour out of the way to get me and took me back at night. Lawrence and I were strangers prior to me working for the company.

The 2nd person on my mind and heart is Carrie Caldwell. My aunt Carrie, on consecutive Easters bought me a new suit to wear even thought she had five kids of her own to pimp out. Back in those days, you had to have new wares on Easter or you were completely not gelin’. I’m not sure if I could have prevailed over the deep scars not being fresh two Easters in a row would have caused. Crisis averted.

It’s hard to pay back people like this who have been so giving and kind to you. My only hope is that I will pay it forward. I’ll never forget and I’ll be forever humbled by your acts of goodness.

* Lyric from an old R&B song by William DeVaughn about being thankful. Most people know the “Diamond in the Back, Sunroof top… refrain used time and again by rappers who usually change the meaning of the original song.

http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/becool/bethankfulforwhatyougot.htm
http://youtube.com/watch?v=pELWVvg8bB8

**If you’re reading this and know Lawrence please tell him to shout me out.

It’s Just an Illusion

I don’t want to hear any Los Angeles city official say they don’t have money for schools when they have clearly spent millions installing holograms above every freeway overpass. This is why you look up at the freeway and see traffic moving smoothly then you hop on and it’s at a dead stand still. That sequence of moving traffic is a repeating hologram. Could traffic really have gone that sour in the time it took you to go up the 1/8 mile on-ramp? And where is that rainbow Prius you just saw with kids inside singing with glee and the Mother in the passenger seat on the bongos? I’m on to their game. If these holograms weren’t in place then the streets, as well as the freeways, would be at a stand still. Maybe they’re necessary but I can’t dance this dance anymore. When in doubt, I take the mean LA streets.

Where’s Fall

It's October 22 in New York City and Non-White people are wearing shorts. When will it be okay for Al Gore to say "I told you so"? New Yorkers seem to love the unseasonably warm weather. Even though if Global Warming keeps up at this pace science fiction tells us New Jersey will become New York. At least then the Giants and Jets will be named correctly.(Both these New York teams technically play in New Jersey.) The subways still have the AC running. It's like Indian summer but not Native American we want Manhattan back. No, more like New Delhi Indian summer.

Of course, now that I wrote this, it will probably snow 12 inches next week.

Ashy to Classy

I walked past 2 seemingly homeless guys today in Hollywood. I say seemingly so as not to assume. They were sitting & lying on the concrete and seemed to have all their worldly possessions in a nearby heap. So, safe to say they were homeless or at least behaving in a homeless like manner. Sitting on the concrete was a dead give away even without the other clues. People with home’s don’t sit on concrete unless there’s some Spice Girl Tickets up for grab, or a Last Comic Standing audition near by. I didn’t get a tooth count but I would bet my future house that neither one had all 32. They had their wits about them enough to know I had just left an audition. One asked me how it went and when would I know if I got it or not. Only in Hollywood will a homeless person’s first question be how your audition went. Or maybe my friendly transient was channeling my mother. He certainly did a top notch job of expressing her usual post audition sentiments. All I needed to hear him say was “ Baby, you should do a McDonald’s Commercial!” and I would have said …”Ma? Is that you in there?”

Then the younger transient complimented my blazer and shirt. He asked me if my shirt was Ralph Lauren and said he used to have one just like it. He said it was a quality cut. I told him my shirt was not Ralph Lauren but it was custom made. So you see how he was in the right ballpark. Now, before you accuse me of going soft, I got the shirt made in Korea where a custom made shirt is still probably less than a off the rack shirt from say Banana Republic.

I instantly changed my opinion of him. Sure he was still homeless but this guy use to live a different life, a life of culture and class. And although in this current state of despair he still had an appreciation of the finer things. Pretty amazing what a well placed compliment can do. I gave him a buck. Honestly I can’t remember whether it was before or after the barrage of compliments.

Who You Gonna Call?

I recently had a very small role in an independent pilot. The goal with these things is to shoot your own pilot and try to get a network to buy it after the fact. You wouldn't believe the caliber of talent you can sometimes get to do these things. It would be like going to a pick up basketball game and seeing Michael Jordan there. Jordan loves playing b-ball so it makes sense he would jump in on a street game from time to time.

On this production, they were able to get Ray Parker Junior to co-star. Ray Parker Junior wrote and sang the Ghostbusters Movie theme song. He was uber cool. And best of all he still loves the Ghostbusters song. You can say "Who you gonna call?!" and he will say "Ghostbusters!" That's cool. It's probably incredibly old for him but he won't deny you your fun…A true gentleman. Jimmy Walker won't say DYN-O-MITE! Henry Winkler would rather not say Ehhhhhh! Now all I need to hear is that Shucky Ducky won't say Quack Quack.

These catch phrases mean so much more to us. They conjure up memories of times long gone. We can never go back to grade school but we can say "What you talkin' about Willis?!" Where were you when you first heard "I'm Rick James Bitch!"?

Why the Peanut costumes? Long Story. Let's hope the pilot gets picked up so you can see why.

Toe Sucking

Today I saw a baby, maybe 2 years old, sitting in a stroller sucking her own foot. Ah, youth and flexibility. What most of us wouldn’t give to be able to suck our own toes again. Not that we would. Have you seen your feet lately? (skip the mani and get a double pedi :-) ) But to be able to nosh on your toes would be neat, even if your toes aren’t. The last time I remember being able to partake of my own toes was in high school. Even then I was putting my spinal cord in double jeopardy (I’ll take stupid things High School boys do for 800, Alex). And no one wants to be the person who died trying to suck their own feet. For me though, it would be a cool way to ensure that even my funeral is funny.

Permission to Shoot

The proliferation of home movies on sites like Youtube and Myspace has brought us to one irrefutable conclusion: People should be required to get a permit before they buy a video camera. You need one to shoot bullets you should also need one to avoid shooting crappy shorts. What makes a person think the rest of the world really wants to see them in their living room doing the Chicken Noodle Soup Dance completely wrong. (Not that a perfect rendition of the CNS is something the world needs to see either.) Ok … fine you got me… it’s actually hours of enjoyment. But you’re never getting that time back.

Flip Side:
At least people are trying to put out original, albeit God awful, content. I’ll take the CNS Dance over someone getting hit in the groin, or a cat dressed in a sweater on America’s “Funniest” Home Videos any day. Maybe people sent in the CNS dance, or the nineties equivalent, to AFHV but they screened out everything but good ole “funny” groin mutilation.

Maybe all these Chicken Noodle Soup dancers should get hit in the groin at the end of their clips. Comedy Gold!

I can’t wait until some wife files for divorce citing Youtube or myspace as the reason why.

WIFE: You don’t need to network! You got me right here! Why don’t you have someone

from your top 8 make you dinner?!

Red Carpet

I recently boarded a United Airlines plane in New York. I heard the lady at the gate announce that First and Business Class could board first via the red carpet on the left. Did I hear her right? I went in for a closer look and sure enough there was little red carpet laid down. It was basically like a red throw rug. (a 2ft by 3ft red carpet)

What has the world come to? Do the people in first class really need their ego stroked even as they board ahead of everyone else? I know they pay a lot more and for that they get to sit and gloat with a beverage in hand as the plebs struggle down the aisle only to get crammed in like veal. If someone from coach walks over the red carpet when they board will they get in trouble? What if there’s a gate with no red carpet? Does the flight have to be delayed until United can find a red carpet for the First class folks to walk over Can red rose petals be used as a substitute?; Or maybe the blood from someone sitting in Coach?

GATE LADY: First Class can now board over Phil from Coach’s bloody body. Stay down Phil!

I’m sure most people, including those in First Class, didn’t notice the silly lengths that United went to to make First Class feel…first and Coach feel…last.

Funny thing though. We all landed in Los Angeles just the same. Sure I had a cramp in my neck but I can go get 400 mall massages with the money I saved not flying in first. Maybe that’s the next step…. making people in coach get off the plane a few miles from the airport and walk the tarmac. No carpet of course.

Plum Terrific

I had a plum from the ninety nine cents store that I think came from the Island of Dr. Moreau. Either, this plum was doing an uncanny impression of an apple or some mad scientist is somewhere rubbing his hands together saying…”I’ll make millions!” It had a stem. It was red, with a little brown. It had an apple shape. I was thoroughly impressed. For a second before I ate it I thought about putting my plum on America’s Got Talent……Nah! (Crunch!) Plum out of luck.

Cups…Not Just For Drinking Anymore

I just watched the World Stacking Championship on ESPN. I had never heard of this “sport.” The child competitors literally stacked cups. They did a human interest piece on one of the stackers. He said he’s been stacking for years. He also said he came from a rough place and no one was around to really guide him. I guess he turned to stacking. Clearly no one was around to tell him to stop with all the cup stacking. These kids are going fast as hell. But who decided we needed to compete in cup stacking? Why not see who can unzip their pants first or who can put DVDs in their cases the quickest. I guess it develops eye hand coordination but it also seems to develop OCD. I just saw a 7 year old say he practices cup stacking 4 hours a day. I’m getting nervous just watching it.

7 YEAR OLD ALL GROWN UP : Gotta stack…yeah…Gotta stack.

One girl stacks with her tongue out and she said “it worked for Michael Jordan.”

Once upon a time, i think there was this guy who was not good at any sport. His friends teased him and he finally got fed up and said…

GUY NOT GOOD AT SPORTS: Oh Yeah?! I bet I can stack cups better than you!!...

And a “sport” was born.

Did I mention that it was an international event? It came down to Germany vs USA. The crowd chanted USA..USA.. as a lone German flag waved. I won’t give away the ending.

Don’t believe me
http://www.worldsportstackingassociation.org/

Make sure you watch and read the comments! Hilarious!
You Tube Stacking Clip

A Minor

I went to a Brooklyn Cyclones Baseball game. The Cyclones are the Mets Minor A-league team. Every seat is a good one. The tickets are cheap and best of all the Keyspan Park they play in is in my hometown, Coney Island.

What struck me is that everything about the place is minor league. Obviously the players are. But the players are not as minor as everything else. Every facet of the place reveals a person or entity vying to get to the next level. The whole thing is a big elaborate audition. The umpires want to be in the big time. The say “Striiike!”, a little louder than they need to. The Mascots are a little off. That guy in the hot dog suit would love to be Mr. Met one day. He turns down no pictures…ever. The announcer is more amped than the situation calls for. He’s wants his voice blaring from Yankee Stadium one day. The -sound guy is too active. The “din ni ni ni ni ni…Charge” comes in on non-charging situations. He hopes to be behind the sound board at Dodger stadium. The sponsors are minor league. The banners in the outfield are of companies not big enough to advertise on prime time: Sal’s Transmissions, Bridge Pharmacy…

This desire to be more makes for a great time. They give away more prizes. The mascots come into the stands during the game. You get the feeling that you could just walk out into the field if you want. They have something to prove and try their darnest to prove it to the small audience in attendance. They try harder. It’s like the baseball equivalent to dating a big girl. Sorry big girls. You know I love you. You don’t have to go the extra mile for me…not that you could…I kid, I kid. *

I recommend going to a Minor League game for Major League fun.

Shout out to the Minor League folks with a major league complex. And the winner was me.

*Some of my best friends are big. :-)

Put me in Coach, I’m Ready to Play

Your boy is well traveled but I don’t necessarily travel well. Meaning, I spend most of my flight time in coach. Crying babies, loud Snorers, seat belt extensions…you get the picture. At least it’s not a bus and at least I’m taking 5 hours to go a distance that 150 years ago took 3 months.

My last flight was particular dodgy. I was assigned the dreaded middle seat.

QSN: I once had a middle seat on a flight to Germany. I was stuck between an ex-linebacker and a woman with an over active bladder. Of course Ms Pee-A-Lot sat by the window.

I took the walk of pain to my seat only to realize I was in the last row. Yippie, Two whole inches to recline, now that’s vertical comfort folks?! But as luck would have it, Henry Rollins of the Henry Rollins Band* fame was sitting in the aisle seat next to me. I introduced myself and it was off to the races.

We talked about everything under the sun and the only thing that could have made it more enjoyable would have been the hot towels from first class…ok maybe one of those brownies too. We had first class banter in the last row of coach. Henry hipped me to all types of life game and industry game. I told him how to tell when a melon is at its ripest. (we contribute what we can) Henry has a great career. Hit records, USO Tours, best selling author, a show on the IFC. Henry is so cool that he let his manager sit in First Class. So don’t go thinking Henry is going through a rough patch. He’s just a real dude and not a delicate spoiled rose pedal.

The whole thing kind of validates me driving a stick shift Saturn with manual windows. Henry drives a Subaru by the way... I got money in the bank ‘cause I don’t buy girls drinks….

Shout out to the brother sitting by the window. I hope our talking didn’t stop you from getting your sleep on and please forgive me for breaking the brother “code” by talking to Henry first. I would appreciate it if you didn’t report me.

* Henry Rollins had a huge hit record in the Nineties called “I’m a Liar” it dominated the MTV airwaves for months. But check out all his accomplishments for yourself at http://21361.com/

QSN: Quick Side Note

Copy Cat

I was recently on the set of a commercial shoot with child actors. They kids were great. They reminded me of myself when I was younger, so precocious and filled with wonderment*. As the day went on and everybody got a little loopy, one girl began to mock another adult actor by repeating everything he said in a mocking voice. I almost forgot how effectively you can annoy someone by simply copying them. You can go on forever until the person you’re copying completely loses it or says something disparaging about you. This usually means the game is over, unless you don’t mind saying something bad about yourself.

COPY-EE: Stop it. Cut it out. You Jackass
DWAYNE: Stop it. Cut it out. You Jackass
COPY-EE: Dwayne smells like a turd
DWAYNE: Dwayne smells like a turd
COPYEE: I‘m going to stab you
DWAYNE: I‘m going to stab you
COPY-EE: See, I told you stop messing with me. Now your intestines are spilling out.
DWAYNE: See, I told you stop messing with me. Now your intestines are spilling out.
COPY-EE: Dude, you’re gonna die. I’ll only call 911 if you stop!
DWAYNE: Dude, you’re gonna die. I’ll only call 911 if you stop!

In the above scenario the actor playing Dwayne would die but… it’s funny, the Copy-ee is annoyed as hell and he’s got to explain to the authorities how and why he did it. But maybe he could use that same tactic on the cops, until his lawyer shows up.

COP: Why did you do it?
COPY-EE: Why did you do it?
COP: Speak up punk.
COPY-EE: Speak up punk.
COP: I’m gonna break your face you maggot.
COPY-EE: I’m gonna break your face you maggot.
COP: Fine, Hey Jack, go get the plunger….
COPY-EE: Fine, Hey Jack, go get the…What?!

*Direct quote from Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. Shake and Bake..That Just Happened!

Roll With Me

I want to buy a pair of sneakers with the roller blade wheels built in. I know, I know…I’m too old to be gliding across Starbucks. But I’m not “break your hip if you fall” old. I probably should get in some more tumbles before tripping becomes a death sentence. Imagine rolling into a business meeting in a 3 piece suit.

BUSINESS ROLLER: We make this deal or I roll…literally.

Rock…Skate…Roll….Bounce!

She’s Crafty

I can’t believe how many Michael’s craft stores there are in the country. It seems like every strip mall I find myself in has one. I didn’t know America was so crafty. I guess housewives use the time I use blogging to scrapbook and knit. But there’s also a clothing store in every strip mall. So are we knitting or buying people? Why are we doubling our effort? It seems to me the day they came out with machines that make clothes should have been the day we laid down our yarn and needles.* How about doing nothing? I enjoy a little nothing from time to time. I was in central PA one day after Halloween last year and every house was already garbed in thanksgiving paraphernalia. Soccer Moms’ Craft Warfare at its finest.

And I’m not even mentioning all the Mom and Pop craft stores. Who has time to do all this stuff…really?! Then again, I suppose one could get a lot done, if they didn’t spend 4 hours a day on Myspace.

Stay Crafty America!

* Of course I’m not advocating that Grand Ma’s put down their yarn. We need them to make us disproportionate blankets and they need to make them for us. Those Trapezoid blankets come from love.

No Man is an Island*

I returned to my car after visiting a friend to find that I couldn’t find my keys. After an extensive search of his place and the perimeter of my car, I could only conclude that I maybe left the keys in the door and someone had them. I never lock my keys in the car because my base level ’04 Saturn Ion has manual everything. People get in my car and take 2 minutes to figure out how roll the window down. Then they take another minute actually rolling the window down.** I guest-ti-mate that rolling down and up a manual window burns 8 Calories. So my car is like a traveling Gym…when you think about it.

My friend and I went to grab a bite, he drove, to maybe let my mind marinate a bit to figure out where I put the keys. Before we left I looked longingly at my car thinking that would be the last time I saw “Da O–Four.”

After washing down my protein style Double Double** with some Diet Coke, we returned to resume the key hunt. Good news: was the car was still there….whew. Bad news: We still couldn’t find the key. After another solid 10 minutes of our key quest, I noticed a small piece of paper on my windshield. I opened the paper and it was a tiny note that said “Check the Gas Tank!” I did as instructed and alas my keys where there safe and sound. The person took nothing and did not even leave their name or number. Thank you...Person who put my keys in the Gas Tank! Thank you soooo much.

I’m a victim of an R.A.K. (Random Act of Kindness.) I hope to pay it forward in some way or another. Maybe I’ll finally help that African Minister of Finance that’s been sending me email about his 80 Million dollar oil reserve he needs to put into my checking account.

This all happened in Westwood California. Sorry Brooklyn, but if this happened in my hometown, this blog would have been about how I had to buy a monthly metro-card because my car got jacked.

People, People who need People…^

*http://isu.indstate.edu/ilnprof/ENG451/ISLAND/

*http://www.poetry-online.org/donne_for_whom_the_bell_tolls.htm

**Check In and Out burger. Protein style means with no bun wrapped in extra lettuce.
http://inandout.com/

^ People – Popular Barbara Streisand song.
http://www.poemhunter.com/song/people-3/

CAPTAIN LITERAL

I was on a plane and before take off they said “It’s against federal regulations to tamper with, disable or destroy airplane bathroom fire detectors.” Okay….don’t you have to tamper with something to disable it. Furthermore, if you destroy something it’s pretty safe to assume that you’ve also disabled it. (Obi-Wan Kenobi* being the lone exception…”Luke, use the Force”)

Or maybe they’re afraid too many people would use the loophole. Like a mother tells her oldest not to mess with his younger sibling. She returns to find the young child has expired.

KID: You said don’t mess with him… You didn’t say anything about destroying him.

MOM: You got me silly. Now get ready for dinner, we’ll dump your brother later.

(A morbid thought indeed.)

How about just saying “Don’t touch it!”?

CAPTAIN LITERAL: But what about people with telekinesis** ….What if they use gloves or a bat…they could just spit on it or pour a water…that’s not touching…

Captain Literals are tampering with, disabling and destroying America

* Obi-Wan Kenobi: Guy from Star Wars movie who guided Luke Sky Walker even after Darth Vader destroyed him.

**Telekinesis: the power to move something by thinking about it without the application of physical force

Round Mound of Rebound

Why is Dwayne Wade so pressed to be in Charles Barkley's 5?!

more importantly

What's up Charles' ass that he can't add one of the NBA's best to his five?

even more importantly

What exactly is a five?

Then again, I'm the guy who never understood why the rabbit couldn't have any Trix. It was his damn cereal. He was on the cover for crying out loud. That would be like banning Oprah from reading the 'O' magazine.

I'm actually not allowed to look at my blog page. So let's keep this between us.

Yoda Slow Yo

I watched Star Wars Episode 2: “Attack of the Clones” again this week. It’s my favorite of the prequels. No hate mail please. I’m sure your favorite is good too and you have compelling reasons why. The one thought I kept having through the movie was “How come they can’t tell the Supreme Chancellor Palpatine is behind all strife in the force/universe.” (QSN: I always try to have at least on slash in all my recurring thoughts :0))

It’s easy to track evil, just follow the money. Palpatine has the most to gain from all the madness. He very humbly and reluctantly accepts total control of the senate until they “figure things out.” Whoever gains the most is probably who you should blame the most. (QSN: Jesse Jackson would be proud :D)) You should always follow the money and power. Not to mention Palpatine’s evil sneer, that insincere smirk and above all else… the beady eyes! Beady eyes are beady for a reason. They get stuck that way from years of rubbing your hands together and plotting the demise of others’. It’s hard to plan someone’s demise without squinting your eyes. Go ahead and try. But look throughout history, no traitor or sneaky person ever had wide-open, inviting eyes. Unless they were those really big scary eyes which is probably the person over compensating for their natural beady eyes.

So Yoda and company can sense things hundreds of miles away, move objects without touching them, put thoughts into people’s heads but completely miss beady eyes!

Good thing nothing like that could happen in real life.

Let the nerd jokes begin :-)

QSN: Quick Side Note

Throw Some….

The song “Throw Some D’s on that Bitch” is my new favorite guilty pleasure. And now that Kanye West is on the remix, it’s on for real. The original song was about putting- excuse me- throwing rims on a car (twenty inch rims to be exact) Kanye’s verse is about girls getting fake boobs (size D cups to be exact.) Not sure if you know this but every time you listen to “Throw Some D’s…” you loose .278 IQ points. But ahh it’s so worth it. You know what the song also has become?…You guessed it, my response to everything. It’s so much fun. Even if it makes no sense; in your next conversation with a friend make “throwing D’s” your response to anything.

FRIEND: I think my dog is sick.
YOU: Have you tried throwing some D’s on that bitch
FRIEND: Huh?

FRIEND2: I think Barack Obama has a real shot at this thing.
YOU: I like his chances more if he throws some D’s on that bitch
FRIEND2: What?!

WIFE: You never take me out anymore!
HUSBAND: C’mon honey. Why just last week I threw some D’s on that Bitch.

Hours of enjoyment!

On a side note:

It’s good to see all areas of the country acknowledged by hip hop. Dirty South, East Coast, West Coast, Mid West, hell even Toronto in a few songs. But no one ever shouts out the Pacific North West. The 8 black people in Montana feel left out. And I don’t know about you but my posse stays on Broadway.

Hotel? Do Tell

Recently, I spend a few days in the Grange hotel in Toronto. I found this jewel on hotels.com it was the cheapest place that had all the amenities I wanted (mainly parking and internet.) The place was great. But I definitely got the feel that this was an apartment building with a few non-rented units they decided to pimp out.

There were mail boxes in the lobby. I saw a guy in flip flops coming down to check his mail. Another couple had groceries, but way too much crap for a short hotel stay. Another guy, had his dog in the elevator to go for a walk. And not the cute dogs you carry around in a bag, a huge stay at home dog with dripping tongue and all. My room had a kitchenette and the iron was in the hallway. We had to share. I felt like I was staying in a commune without the ideology.

ME: I’ll have the communal lifestyle and … could you hold the sing-a-longs.

It was kind of like renting a car from someone’s house. Maybe Mavis instead of Avis.

MAVIS: Well, no one is using that Corolla in the driveway. How about I let you use that for a few days? You gonna be needin’ the coverage baby?

Happy New Year Bozo

There’s a radio station in Los Angeles that’s encouraging people to call in and say what resolutions they’ve already broken. It’s one of these Jack stations. They play what they want. They take no requests. Don’t even think about making a request. Somehow they still play the same 30 songs over and over, mainly classic rock, with a sprinkle of random songs from the other genres. It’s odd how a station that can play “anything” would repeat the same song even in a 4 day span. Out of thousands of popular songs you play the same 100 songs?! But I digress.

I guess it’s cool to break resolutions and it’s funny for everyone to share their failures. So, dressing failure up in a funny costume makes it okay? If a clown knocks on your door and punches you in the face when you answer, does the fact that it’s a clown make your black eye heal quicker? Kind of like if a tree falls in the woods… Maybe someone reading this has been punched by a clown. If so, I just hope Bozo didn’t put his body into it. Clearly resolutions are basically a wish list and you shouldn’t feel bad if you falter on your quest. But if on January 2nd you’re already glib about not reaching your goals, then why make them in the first place. It’s better for your mental psyche if you just don’t make any at all. Then, at least you haven’t failed. Making fun of breaking them is like hookers who try to convince you they love their job and are getting paid to do what they love. Yeah right, and is that the reason Pretty Woman is 8 out of ten hooker’s favorite movie. So, Happy New Year everyone! Don’t get down on yourself if your resolutions fall through the cracks but why not give it the college try. Of course, now that I’ve written this, I have to do the same. :-)

It’s never too late to be what you could have been…

Royal Flush

Can we please not get too ahead of ourselves with the whole auto-flushing toilets? I’m all for them but please leave the manual flush option. More and more I’m running into toilets, with no manual flush, that flush when they want to. The problem is when they want to is sometimes not when you want to and definitely not when the guy in the next stall over wants them to. We have to keep the courtesy flush in play, not only for thy neighbor but also for thyself. I know I don’t want sit over my toxic offerings. If we lose the courtesy flush then we have to answer all the intestinal questions/comments:

Are you Okay?
Did something die inside of you?
Maybe you should try fasting…indefinitely

I’m green with concern for the earth but we can find other ways to save water:

Cut the water off when you brush your teeth.
In the shower rinse, cut off water, lather, cut on water and rinse off
Fill your water balloons just half way

Whatever we do, let’s keep up the courtesy. Flush America.

Shot Gun Run

I recently saw a very scary billboard while driving in central Pennsylvania. There was a picture of a diamond necklace and the copy read “How much did his last shot gun cost?” His last shot gun?! How many guns does a person need? I guess this sign’s purpose is to encourage wives to make the case to their husbands’ that instead of buying that last shotgun he could have bought her jewelry. It’s also meant to guilt trip the men into buying the misses something purrty. Basically it poses the question is your wife more important than a gun. But didn’t these girls know what they were getting into.

HUSBAND: Baby you knew I was about my shotguns when I met you. We met in the shot gun Aisle!

I say we should put diamonds on the guns. Kill two birds with one shotgun. Put some bling on your bang! Buy your little Bonnie a cute handgun with a diamond studded handle. The note could read “ With Love…Clyde”

I would have stopped and taken a picture of this billboard but I couldn’t stop driving anywhere that question needs to be asked. I’ve seen too many late night movies where some city slicker makes a wrong turn and ends up squealing like a pig. And much to the Yankee’s chagrin, the local judge is also the cousin of the sheriff who is the brother of the guy who knocked him out and fondled his girlfriend. So I kept driving and set my cruise control right at the speed limit. I didn’t want to speed and have to meet the sheriff who’s kin to the judge…

You Have the Right to Remain Quenched

I was walking on Larchmont Ave. in the Larchmont section of Los Angeles. The 3 block stretch is probably the quaintest section of the whole city. It’s a place where people walk around with Yoga mats as if they were brief cases. I counted 6 mats in a 10 minute span but I did not see a Yoga studio anywhere. I guess you always have to be prepared. You never know when you’ll have to break out some downward dog on a fool. As I walked I spotted 4 police officers sitting in front of a Jamba Juice enjoying smoothies. I don’t want to paint our boys in blue into a box but could they not find a respectable donut shop. I have some criminal friends and I sleep better at night knowing they can out run most donut eating, coffee drinking out of shape cops on the beat. You haven’t seen police brutality until you’ve seen an irritated officer interrupted from a refreshing Tropical Awakening smoothie. The visual of a cop experiencing brain freeze just doesn’t make me feel safe. I would give 3 to 1 odds that at least 2 of them have headshots.

OFFICER: You have the right to cast me in any films or TV shows you may be producing. If you give up that right any parking tickets you have can and will be used against you…

Ok k k

I recently performed at Gettysburg College in Gettysburg PA. Yes, that Gettysburg. ( Four score and seven years ago, Gettysburg). I stayed in the Gettysburg hotel, established in 1787! Sadly, it’s a part of the Best Western chain now. The show went well but afterwards the students told me the KKK will be protesting in Gettysburg the week after my show. (not against me per-se, but blacks in general) They went on to tell me how the college is planning a counter protest. Now, as a black person I should have been really into this discussion but all I could think of was “what’s the thread count on the sheets they use”? I know the sheets are all about hiding their identity and looking menacing but it seems a high thread count would still be desirable. Even a racist can appreciate softness. Then again, sheets that are too soft against the face may make it harder to hate. It would be like being irate while the Snuggle bear is tickling your neck.

GRANDMASTER: The white race is supreme we feel- Chip will you stop giggling and hold the torch straight…Damn High thread count!

Just Add Fur

I was about to get in my car when I saw what looked like a rat scurrying from under my car. I took a step back ready to engage in full flight or full fight. Where are my numchucks when I need them?! As I stood at the ready, I looked down again and noticed it was only a squirrel. I exhaled a sigh of relief. Alas, it was only a cute little squirrel. Now squirrels are in the rodent family too. So why do we love the squirrel and hate the rat. Well, besides the squirrel having a much better Public Relations team, I think it’s the bushy fur tail. Adding fur, especially a furry tail, to anything makes it cute and harmless. Think Mike Tyson…now think Mike Tyson with a cute furry tail. See what I mean. Maybe that’s why Divas like to wear fur. They’re trying to throw everyone off the scent of their raging bitch-dom.

Assistant: She said if there are any green M&M’s in her dressing room she would back slap me with her ring hand…but she was so cute in that Chinchilla.

Little Known Fact That I Made Up: The Roman Army wore fur vests to make the opposing armies put up a weaker fight.

Beware of Gremlins toting weapons and a smirk.

Luxury Matters

I was walking down Wilshire Blvd. in Santa Monica California when I heard what sounded like a symphony. I looked around for the live band or orchestra that must have been playing in a near by building. With no buildings nearby with that “Jam Session in Session” look, I turned my attention to a Lexus car stopped at a red light with its windows down. It turns out the sweet tunes were coming from that Lexus. I looked in astonishment trying to figure out where the orchestra was hidden. It’s like the Boston Pops were playing. I kept thinking, “Wow, is a symphony standard on a Lexus?” I’ve never been one for over-the-top luxury. My Saturn Ion is a stick shift and my windows are manual. That’s right, it’s 2006 and I have to vigorously work out my rotator cuff to order at the drive through. I don’t even have a CD player or cassette. I’m one of the only people left who rents a car and thinks, “What a sweet audio system in this Hyundai Accent!” The only thing people think when my window is rolled down is “Wow, Saturns come with clock radios?”

No, but I had it specially installed and the snooze length is adjustable. Don’t hate.

God Bless You and Your Mouth

God Bless You and Your Mouth

I recently had surgery to repair a hernia. I didn’t know light circuit training could do that.
It was my first time under the knife and under anesthesia. The anesthesiologist told me he was giving me just a little to make me feel better but not totally put me out, as I wanted to talk with the doctor before he gave me the old slice and dice. That’s last thing I remembered. They told me to tell my ride to come get me at noon. A hernia operation is day surgery and I was the first one in. In fact, I woke the rooster up on my way to the surgery. I didn’t wake up until 2pm In all types of pain and nauseous from the anesthesia. It wasn’t until 4pm that I mustered up the courage to try and leave. Some guy in the room next to mine had hernia surgery and he just walked out afterwards. He Probably went dancing that night. I, after asking if I could stay overnight and getting shut down quicker than a Korean restaurant at closing time, had to be wheeled out. I tried eating bread and just spit it out right on the hospital floor like a stubborn 1 year old.

So, I eventually got better. After about a week I was walking okay and out of the blue I sneezed. I can’t really describe the pain but I’ll say a sneeze is a very violent action that you never think of that way until something is hurting. Someone could have taken me hostage with a pepper shaker. If I had sneezed the day of my surgery I’m not sure if I would be writing this blog right now. Even after a week, every sneeze was followed with a loud curse. So “God bless you” took on a whole different meaning. Don’t go to church when your healing from Hernia surgery and have the sniffles.

BTW: A hernia is a hole in your abdominal wall.

Holy Water

This blog may cost me some future endorsement deals...but if the eight of you who read my blog keep this under wraps, I should be okay.

I think we can all agree that Dasani is the most awful tasting bottled water ever. I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure that pee tastes better than Dasani. I guess I could prove it but I’m just not that committed to science. Shame on Coca Cola for muscling their way into the bottled water game and bringing to the table such a horrible product to boot. I’m sure Coke has the money to buy out a smaller company that makes better tasting water. I’m just a bit perturbed because it seems Dasani is taking over everywhere I go. It’s the only water my gym sells and more and more airport shops have only Dasani.

Upside, Coca Cola is saving me money. I used to buy a bottle of ridiculously marked up water at the airport for every flight I took. Now I just bum a cup of water from an airport restaurant. I figure the tap water from the airport can only be as bad as Dasani but not worst. If I ever go to Mexico and the only water available is Dasani, I’m drinking the Mexican water. Viva La runs!

I can’t believe I just wrote a rant about bottled water. If my friends from Brooklyn could see me now...

Word to My Trust Fund

I’m walking in New York’s Upper East Side. I pass a bunch of white kids in a circle rapping and beat boxing. In the rap world that’s called a cypher. Now there’s nothing too strange about white kids rapping. But these were like prep school, Abercrombie wearing, trust fund having types. Half of them were girls. They kind of looked like an a capella group gone wild. I think I counted 6 Navy Pea coats and 4 pairs of Dockers. Eminems they were not. You gotta love Hip Hop.

Funny... you’ll never see a bunch of black guys in wife beaters and Du-Rags playing hacky sack.

With This Ring I Thee Dead

A wedding is the ultimate killer of rocky relationships. A couple that attends a wedding can’t help but look at each other and ask “Maybe us?” If the answer is yes, then someone is going to start dropping hints. If the answer is “Hell to the Naw”, then cue the fat lady. Why am I wasting my time with this guy/girl... If I want to assemble my family and have them do the Cha-Cha and Electric Slide, I better find someone who I can meet at the altar.

The saddest part of a break-up:
When both people exhale and calmly talk about all the shit that’s been on their minds in a non-confrontational way. All the shit that had been getting in the way. All the shit that if had been discussed while you were together...you would still be together. Ain’t that a kick in the head. Handle your shit before it handles you.

Air Plain Blues

It’s hard to be original on any airplane topic so this blog entry will just have to fall short on originality. I just got off a plane and once again I was sitting on the side with absolutely no view. I fly into NYC once a month but somehow I see Manhattan from the sky once every 2 years.

Pilot: If you look out on the left side of the airplane you’ll see Jesus and Santa Claus on a sleigh being powered by flying reindeer...well that or the grace of God (chuckle, chuckle)

Pilot: And for those of you on the right side, Dwayne’s side. If you look closely into your window, and don’t breath out too hard, you may be able to see your own reflection.

Hunger for the Arts

I recently went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC. I don’t know why but I always seem to go to museums on a completely empty, haven’t eaten in six hours, stomach. It makes for interesting viewing. It’s hard to focus or enjoy anything because you can hardly stand-up. And forget about reading the little plaques next to the art works. My friend couldn’t understand why I spent 20 minutes looking at a painting of a woman holding a sandwich. She’s all “That’s not even a part of the exhibit! It’s just a sign for the cafeteria.” And I’m all “Let’s check out what fine art they have in the Cafeteria.” The answer, of course, was none and the more devastating news...the cafeteria was closed.

“That guy must really be moved by Van Gogh’s work...look, he fainted!”

Best Gig Ever

I recently did a show with a friend of mine. He set up the gig and I was just happy for the extra change. We get to the gig to find out it’s outside at a fair and they are kids running around all over the place. Doing a stand-up comedy show outside, at a fair with little kids running around is like swimming in pirana infested water with rocks in your trunks. The rides and games were all going on during the show. I had to scream “Thank you! Good Night!!” at the end of my set to let people know I was done and they should stop playing skee-ball for a second and clap.

But I Play one on TV

An old college buddy of mine recently emailed me with an odd admission. A few years back I was in a GE commercial where I played a doctor who goes to Africa with a portable ultrasound machine and helps the natives in need of high tech western medicine. I actually did go to Africa for a week. An amazing experience indeed. It was a touching commercial, 1 minute long and ran during the ‘02 winter Olympics. It seems my buddy from college saw that commercial and thought I was a real doctor. Not happy with his job at that time and inspired by the fact that an old buddy had become a doctor he decided right then to go into medicine and now he’s in med school. Good thing I wasn’t in a commercial for the circus he might be walking the high wire for pennies. I guess GE does bring good things to life.

Boys in the Hood

I was recently doing an IBM photo shoot. Not Bragging that’s just my life. We had a break and I walk out in my IBM business casual attire and see the rapper The Game hanging out right outside of the studio. I gave The Game a slight nod. I didn’t want to come off as a groupie. Sure, he sold 4 million copies of his Album but... I’m doing an IBM photo shoot. My face may be noticeable in next week’s Business Week. Clearly we are peers in this showbiz game.

I call my girlfriend to tell her and just then Tyrese, the singer/actor, pulls up. Some kind of baller convention and I wasn’t invited? Must be an over sight right? But anyway I’m here now where I should be. Platinum recording artists/ Big time movie actors and me Mr. Featured Background player in a photo shoot. My girl says Tyrese is sexy. Didn’t need to hear that. Then she asks what kind of car he’s driving. In my mind I said “Your man drives a Saturn. That’s all you need to worry about!!” but what I actually said was “I think a Bentley” I’m sure driving a hundred thousand dollar car made him a lot less “sexy” in her eyes.

After a few minutes the actor Lorenze Tate pulls up. I’m fighting the good fight trying to not look phased by all the Big Willie-ism surrounding me or by Tyrese wearing on his neck what I made all of last year.

At this point the food lady comes out and offers me a lemon Icee. I accepted without even thinking about it. I mean Luigi Icees are delicious. So the picture is The Game, Tyrese and Lorenze Tate with their respective factions (factions: nice word for posse). Several posse members are passing around a joint. They’re tatted up and have bandanas, wife beaters and Jerzees on. I’m standing not 10 feet away in my IBM business casual uniform eating an Icee. And it was only at that moment that I realized how tubular and phallic the Icee was. I have never felt less cool or less masculine. Good thing the Icee wasn’t rainbow flavored. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)

Dogtown Poser

I’m walking along Hermosa Beach. Some teenagers skateboard by with battery powered skateboards. Each skateboard motor is attached to a long wire that I’m guessing controls acceleration. A couple is walking in front of me. The guy looks like a thirty something professional (accountant or maybe nurse practitioner.) The women says “Cool! Check out those skateboards” The guy instantly replies “I have one, except mine is wireless” I would bet my lunch money that this guy can’t even skateboard let alone operated a wireless remote supped up board. I just hope that when they got home she asked him to see the skateboard. Lucky for him there weren’t some guys out there break dancing or walking on glass or eating fire. Pretending to be the man can be dangerous...

Second Hand Dance

I dropped off some stuff at Goodwill today. One man’s junk is another man’s junk. Except the second guy pays for it. I usually don’t condone this sort of thing but I think it would be great to steal from the goodwill. Don’t get your pants in a bunch. I’m not saying take from the needy. It’s a two-parter. After you steal it you come back and “donate” it.

Goodwill guy: That’s odd. This is the second pair of leather skinned, leopard color MC Hammer pants we got in this week.

You: That’s weird. You know there were only three of these made in the whole world. What are the odds?! Maybe you should play Lotto tonight...Oh Yeah...Make that Tax deduction form out to...

Where Are My Roots?

Here’s an excerpt from a conversion I recently overheard in a Los Angeles coffee shop. Both women were white.

Women 1: I bet you were Asian-Pacific in your past life
Women 2: Actually I think I was black in my previous life.
Women 1: What makes you say that?
Women 2: People always say I was black in my previous life.

Is this something that comes up often? Always? Has guessing what someone was in a previous life become the new “What’s your sign?” I envy anyone who lives in a city where this conversation would have NOT been normal.

“In my previous life I was a Persian Virgo with a moon rising in Gemini.”
“Oh, that’s why we get along so well!”

Not You Again

I’m riding in my homey Dan’s car. At a red light we look over and see some friends. Now, one kinda cool thing that happens in LA from time to time is that you see people you know in traffic. It’s actually not that random or special but your mind always tells you something cosmic just happened. So we exchange pleasantries and bask in the unlikelihood of our chance encounter. The light turns green and both cars drive off. We proceeded to be right next to them at the next 9 lights. We couldn’t drive 2 blocks without hitting a light. The first 3 lights we looked over and nodded. Remember us from 3 blocks ago. After that it got real awkward and uncomfortable. I would say we bordered on being hostile. We even considered turning to avoid them but we had already told them where we were going. By light number nine we avoided them like a man avoids looking at a mother breast feeding. You try so hard not to look that you draw more attention to the thing than if you would just look. I guess familiarity does breed contempt.

Straight eye for the queer profession

I flew Southwest from LAX to Vegas. Southwest is so low budget the male flight attendant was not gay. He was like some tatted up bald headed guy named Mel who looked like he was on work release. I guess Southwest just isn’t fierce enough.

Smooth Sailing

The other day I changed in my car ( not too uncommon for the actor on the go) and drove off. While driving I felt like pebbles or something in my pant legs. So, I immediately get the itchies. Is it a bug? Are there hundreds of little peebles or bugs on my legs right now. The mind can play tricks on you and once you’ve got the itchies you really have to take off all your clothes and have a scratching and kicking fit before your mind will feel confident that there is indeed nothing on you and then stop sending the body itch signals. So, I’m driving with the itchies. I only needed a red light so I could: stop, pull down my pants, brush emphatically. In the city of Angels I drove 20 minutes without hitting a red light. Red lights kept turning green on my approach. To other drivers it looked like I was dancing and having a good ole time. In actuality the radio was off and I was having an itching fit. For those of you familiar with Los Angeles. I drove from Sherman Oaks to Korea Town, all side streets, without hitting one red light. I know I could have pulled over at any point but I kept thinking the next corner is going to offer the much coveted red light. So if you’re ever late to work put a cup full of fire ants down your pants.

Suction Function

My dentist tells his assistant to put water in my mouth. She puts a tiny hose in my mouth and the stream of water begins to flow. Ten seconds later he tells her to add suction. So she puts a little vacuum tube in my mouth that begins to suck out the water. Well what is it Doc? Does my mouth need to be wet or dry. Or have you not used your toys in a while? So I’m breathing through my nose while I’ve got the conundrum happening in my mouth. I guess the dentist needed more light because he lifted my upper lip. This blocked my nostrils and forced me to play the hit game show that’s sweeping the country...”How long can you hold your breath” Well, at least for a minute and a half thank you very much. Tell him what he’s won Bob.

Don’t Cry...Dry Your Eye

I was on the downtown 6 train in New York City. A couple sat in the 2-seater bench near the end of the subway car. The woman was crying. The man, trying to console her, pulled out a tissue and went to wipe her eyes. Maybe he was heavy handed or maybe the train jerked but he applied way too much pressure and sent her head banging into the subway wall. Ouch! At least he changed what she was crying about.
“I’m crying because I don’t know where my life is heading...(Ka-Thunk)...I’m crying because my head is throbbing”
I’m sure he felt awful about hitting her head so hard. Maybe she tried to console him.
“It’s okay baby... It’s the thought, not the knot on my head, that counts.”

Working on the Train Gang

In a span of 10 minutes 3 different groups of young men came on the Subway in NYC and announced they were selling candy to raise money for their high school. These schools really need better funding. Can we really expect these kids to perform well in school and peddle candy? 1 guy was clearly over twenty five. So, obviously the juggling of school and candy sales has forced the poor guy to have to repeat a grade or two or three. Let’s give more to the schools and take back our children’s time. I mean 2 of the guys didn’t even have time to shave. I can only imagine what their lockers look like.

Adventures in Senior Living

There’s a retirement home in Westwood California whose slogan is “Adventures in Senior Living.” Not to be ageist or anything but what adventures do they have in mind. The mad dash to the Jello table? Senior Macarena night? A denture treasure hunt? I’m not saying seniors aren’t vibrant and viable. Hell, they probably still knock boots. I know I plan on mixing it up with my prosthetic hip when the time comes. But when you say Adventures you just remind everyone that they are not adventures. It’s like calling a fat guy skinny. It doesn’t make him feel better. It just reminds him that he’s such a tub-o-lard that people have to go out of their way to say the complete opposite. Or maybe this senior home is serious and run their seniors through an intensive boot camp. Maybe the seniors at Westwood Horizons are the first to go in.

“We do more before the Early Bird special than most retirees do all day!”

Does the Bus Stop here

As a cool down to a very exhilarating Tae-Bo class (that’s not the joke :-| ), the teacher broke into the Electric Slide. Also known as the Bus Stop. He didn’t really explain it but it was fun watching all the people who didn’t know how to do it fall over themselves. And watching the folks who did know it have so much fun while not helping the others. Okay... it was fun watching the white people completely lost while the Blacks, Latinos and White Girls with braids cut the rug.

It’s Getting Hot in Here

I did a show for a biblical college last week. Keep it clean young man. The show was in a big banquet hall at a country club. The president of the school prayed for the students right before I performed. In the adjacent hall a huge party was going on. So, as the president prayed Nelly’s “Hot in here” was blaring next door. You could barely hear the prayer over the beat and the people screaming. “Wanna pray... but can’t stop foot from taping...” I would have given anything to see the Pastor to break into a freestyle prayer.

“Hot in here” seemed eerily coincidental. Like, hell is only a banquet hall away. “It’s getting hot in here...so repent all your sins...”

Funky Monkey

I went to a bar last week with some friends. As a non-drinker, I always feel a little out of place. Luckily this place had Funky Monkey, my favorite bar video game of all time. What bars don’t make from me on drinks they more then make up for with Funky Monkey. I spent at least 1 hour of the 3 we were there playing Funky Monkey. I just hope they don’t have Funky Monkey at my wedding reception.
“Baby, I love you so much...I could dance with you forever...Listen could you come get me right before we cut the cake. That high score is coming down baby!”

Jukebox Hog

I think we need some legislation to limit how many songs a person can play on a jukebox. I was in a bar playing my favorite bar game 'Funky Monkey' and my friend played over 30 songs on the Jukebox. That’s complete B.S. At that point you should just rent out the place and hire your own DJ. Where’s his jukebox etiquette?! He basically held the place hostage. I mean, I like Sublime as much as the next guy but we don’t need to hear 3 of their albums in a row in a bar. Give me “Midnight Train to Georgia” or give me death!

Don’t put another dime in the Juke Box

Jukeboxes should tell you how long you’re going to have to wait to hear your songs. I refuse to leave a place until the songs I paid for play. I don’t care how boring it is or how tired I am. Even if the place catches on fire I’ll hang out by the door, trying to hear my songs while the firefighters bust in.
“Get the Hell out of here!! The place might blow!!”
“As soon as I hear ‘Midnight Train to Georgia’, I’ll leave. Get off me...let me go...someone owes me a dollar...”

Bad to The Bone

So I’m in the chair getting oral surgery. It’s as bad as it sounds. The guy is to cut bone from behind my molar and move it to my front gums. All this and I’m wide awake. Luckily for me, they gave me an I-Pod loaded with the Beatles’ greatest hits. I could barely hear the drilling, and scraping over “Love Me Do.” I usually keep my eyes closed but I had the inclination to keep my eyes open. Deep down I wanted to watch what he did in case I was ever in a position where I had to do a bone graft. Like if civilization was wiped out and there were no oral surgeons left but someone needed a bone graft, I could step up and say “I can’t promise anything but I’ll try my best...”. Then proceed to do the perfect bone graft. I looked up but it seemed to make him uncomfortable. The last thing I need is a self-conscious surgeon in my mouth. So I closed my eyes and listened to the Beatles psychedelic phase. He actually added cow bone to my own to build the gum line. It worked fine but all of a sudden I want to go grazing and I never go home.

Welcome Overstayed

We’ve all had that friend over our house or on the phone we just couldn’t get rid of. And no matter how many hints you dropped they just didn’t get it. Well, one day you find yourself in a situation and realize you’re that person. It’s terrifying when you realize your friends have been trying to get rid of you. How long have they been trying? How many hints did you miss? Godfather 1 and 2 were cool but maybe watching Godfather 3 was overkill. Maybe they didn’t want to play that 5th game of Pictionary. I thought it was odd that he drew a picture of me leaving and the answer was "Golden Nugget."

Big Tipper

So, I was very pleased with my 12 dollar mall massage. I wasn’t sure how much to tip the guy. I kinda wanted to tip 2 bucks. That way I could give him a twenty, get back a five and still have a dollar I could use for licorice ( I like my candy circa 1850.) But alas, I felt silly not giving him the whole 3 dollars. He took the 3 dollars from me like I had just handed him a snot-filled sock from the foot of a homeless guy. Good thing I didn’t give him a 2 dollar tip.