Monday, June 30, 2008

Grow Up

Things that currently need to grow up:

Babies. Seriously, Babies - your tiny hands are weird. And don't even get me started on your fingernails. Whats with all the crying? Your life revolves around eating and pooping - I should be so lucky. Grow up, Babies.

Prejudice. I don't think people understand the hurt involved when they call me a "drunk". It's Alcoholic-American, People. Stop the hate.

My friends. Whats with all you guys getting married? That makes me feel weird inside. Don't you know thats what Grown-Ups do? What next? Babies? They have weird, tiny hands!

Big City Bars. During my visit to my hometown this weekend I accidentally stubled into the bar and ordered two beers and ten shots. My total bill for this? $32. THIRTY TWO DOLLARS. I am pretty sure if I handed the guy a $50 he would have just given me the keys to the place. Going back home is like replacing my wallet with Monopoly money. I could live for ten years on a pink $500 bill.

Me. I turn 25 today (hurray for being able to rent a car) and still think the word "doodie" is funny. Yes, I giggle at a 3rd grade level. I also still think it is appropriate to yell "Pants off - Dance off!" at my friends wedding - and I was IN the wedding party. I may have also told people that the reception was actually a big birthday party for me and to make their checks out to my name. Then the married couple went and cut the cake before anyone sang Happy Birthday to me!

I told them to Grow Up.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

I'm Irresponsible

Work has me bent over like Nick Hogan in a prison shower so I won't be able to post anything witty or original until Monday. In other words, business as usual!

I turn 25 on Monday as well - which means it is time for my quarter-life crisis! If you see me next week I'll be driving a new sports car and dating a girl half my age. Maybe I'll even grow a goatee - I don't know - I don't want to sign up for that kind of commitment just yet.

What I'm trying to say is this: buy me something pretty.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Worst Song Ever UPDATE


Not much of a surprise. I have to admit I voted for "Summer Girls" because when I hear that song I want to use mind powers to take control of every city bus in Cleveland and have them simultaneously converge on their faces. But the "Thong Song" was right behind them for me.

And is the picture above the most awkward thing ever? "The Man Behind The Thong"??? I hope at no point in my life does the phrase "The Man Behind The Thong" make sense. I can handle "The Man Behind The Destruction of Nickelback" or "The Man Behind The Swedish Bikini Team" but nothing with a thong. Right now, "The Man Behind in His Credit Card Payments" is much more relevant - and still better than the Thong thing.

Mambo #5 was a bit of a surprise for your Handsome Narrator. I mean I hate that song - but in reading the comments it sounded like quite a few people liked it - and ol' Lou Bega still pulled in the second most votes. I think this song should be left off the list because I can't help but giggle when he yells "MAMBO NUMBA FI!" He never says "Five" always just "FI!" This is important because I'm a busy man and only using half of words could hel sa me ti.

Hanson finished a solid fourth and lets face it - that damn song is kind of catchy. Plus they used my girlfriend Samaire Armstrong in their video for "Penny and Me" so I automatically couldn't vote for them (I mean I sat through two whole seasons of The OC for her - I can handle a three minute pop song). Also, they have to live with being "Hanson" for the rest of their lives - which can't be good. I can't imagine telling a girl at a bar that you wrote "Mmm Bop" helps you get laid. The normal reaction has to be a lot of cheek pinching and shame.

Crazy Town getting the least amount of votes surprised me for the fact that their singer's name is Shifty Shellshock. If I was going to make up a name for myself it would definitely be cooler than Shifty Shellshock. I mean he could be Danger McDermot or Bullet Sanders or Turd Ferguson and he chose Shifty Shellshock? What can you expect for this guy:

So without further adieu I present Sisqo with his trophy for Worst Song Ever -

God Bless America

Monday, June 23, 2008

Runnin' Down A Dream

I am grasping at functionality this morning with the help of my friend Coffee because Tom Petty spent last night melting my face. Luckily I wore two pairs of socks, because ol Thomas rocked the first pair right off. Pouring rain, drunk hippies and the opening act of Steve Winwood couldn't stop the onslaught of Rock - and now my Monday morning is like an episode of The Hills - confusing and painful. But the concert did provide some scientific discoveries for me:

Everyone likes Tom Petty.


Tom Petty is the musical currency of America.

Do any of you not like Tom Petty? I want to know. I don't mean you have to love Tom Petty, or even own Tom Petty albums - but does anyone out there actually dislike his music? I have met people who don't like The Beatles. I have also met people who didn't like The Rolling Stones (though don't ask me to name them because they are not dead to me) but I have never in my 24 years and 358 days met someone who didn't like Tom Petty.

Feel free to answer, if you don't like Tom I need to know to complete my research. I promise I won't make fun of you, Idiot.

(Ok you aren't an idiot for not liking Tom Petty - I might be a little dramatic. Please forgive me. While forgiving - check out the poll in the post below - at last count Lou Bega and Sisqo are having an all out battle for worst song ever. It's like Bum Fights but with more VH1.)

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Your Vote Counts*

* Your vote does not actually count

Kidding of course - I've narrowed down the choices of what seemed to be a very hot subject of Worst Song Ever. This should probably be titled "Worst song from the late 90's and early 00's" because that seems to be the wheelhouse that most of these came from - but I'm sticking with the EVER line. It is more dramatic.

So lets hear it - which of these diddies hurts your earballs the most? If you are feelin' froggy leave a comment on why the song you picked deserves the title of Worst Song Ever. Maybe we could all pitch in and buy the artist of the winning song a ham sandwich because I'm pretty sure all of these people are homeless now. When your name is Shifty Shellshock or Lou Bega there just can't be many opportunities on the job market for you.

* SUPER SEXY UPDATE! <--- Wow that looks exciting. Just wanted to say I realize I spelled Sisqo wrong but can't imagine anyone caring so I decided not to fix it. Also slightly angry that NO Ja Rule songs got nominated for the list. What were we thinking, Readers?

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Worst Song Ever

Last night I was at the coffee shop that seems to be my new home and they had a DJ set up playing ridiculous music. When I asked what was going on they said it was a "Spotlight". Looking even more confused the nice lady overcharging me for my cup of tea (yeah, I drink tea - ya wanna fightaboutit?) said it was a night of massages, manis and pedis.

Awkward. Both me setting up to work while this is happening and saying the words mani and pedi.

But why a DJ? Maybe if he was playing smooth jazz (which is normally what is played there). But as I entered he did a three song set that went in this order:

Meat Loaf's Paradise by the Dashboard Light
Mickey Mouse Club Theme Song
Sisqo - Thong Song

First off - what? How is that relaxing? Not only are those songs not conducive to massages - but it is impossible not to sing along to the M-I-C K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E! part of that damn song.

Second - who plays those three songs in succession? At no point in your life will this triad of tunage be appropriate. I spent a good five minutes trying to think up a situation where these three songs would work together and came up with nothing. Now I'll never get those five minutes back - or the 3 minutes it took me to write this post. Father Time is really pushing it considering Father's Day was two days ago.

This got me thinking about the worst songs of all time. If you Googlize this question you come up with Starship's "We Built This City". Ok - not the best song evar - but if you are telling me you don't turn this up when you are in the car by yourself and start rocking out only to get busted by that cute blond in the car next to you - you are lying, buddy.

Side note - according to this article, and if it is on the internet it must be true, 30% of men and 26% of women say they flirt DAILY while in traffic. That is crazy. Daily? I don't do anything daily - let alone give eyes to the girl in the car next to me. In fact the only thing I flirt with in the car is danger - because I don't write the rules, baby, I break em.

Aaaaaand we're back.

I think I was talking about the worst song of all time - and if not lets do that now anyways. I have come up with a few - and I want some input from you, my beloved Readers, because you are smarter than me and will make this list much better.

Here's the plan - I am going to nominate a few - and please feel free to also nominate a few - and then I will set up a poll to vote on the worst song ever as picked by a random selection of bloggers with awesome taste. Then we will all do a slow motion high-five that ends in a freeze frame.


My picks:

Limp Bizkit - Nookie
Poison - Unskinny Bop
Sisqo - Thong Song
Will Smith - Miami
Trace Adkins - Honkey Tonk Badonkadonk

That Trace Adkins song is cheating because pretty much any country song could go in that spot - but that one is spectacularly terrible so I felt it needed to be added.

So what am I missing?

Monday, June 16, 2008

Old Man Nomina

I like Father's Day. It is awkward. My Old Man is one of those grizzled "back in my day" types and it is really hard to figure out how "Father's Day" to go on him. Does he want a party and balloons? Just a simple call? This year I went the "nice bottle of whiskey" route. Whiskey is the currency of grizzled bad-ass Dads I believe.

I honestly can't say enough about my Dad - he is an amazing person who not only did a great job with his family but is involved in our Church and more community groups and projects than you can shake a stick at (analogy based on normal sized stick).

I may not have had this same opinion of him when I was 16 and he made me haul loads of soy beans in our John Deere tractor past my high school right when cheer leading practice was going on - but now I kinda see where that is funny.

But before this blog makes me look all touchy-feely like I'll just say this:

Thanks Dad for always being a big enough bad ass that I could win the "Oh yeah??? Well my Dad could kick YOUR Dad's ass!" argument. It really helped me through 3rd grade.

My teacher had zero comeback.

Happy Father's Day.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

What Is Life?

Being a masochist - I often bring work home with me and spend my evenings cleaning up little jobs and catching up so I have time to read all of your blogs the following day. Last night I decided that I was going to head to a coffee shop to work so that Mario Kart couldn't give me "come hither" eyes and distract me from the task at hand. Damn you sexy Wii. That sounded bad.

So to the coffee shop I went. I should explain that this coffee shop isn't your normal Starbucks-y place. It is attached to my apartment complex and has a coffee shop, restaurant, bar, convenience store, dry cleaner and Assault course from American Gladiators (ok that last one was a dream I had where I was a gladiator and my name was "Teflon"). This coffee shop on steroids also has theme nights.

Last night was open mic night.

The stage is in the bar / restaurant area of the room while I was perched over in the coffee house area silently working away. I heard the microphones being set up and the specrapular smooth jazz playing before anyone took stage. I tuned most of the distraction out as the Drive-By Truckers were playing a live acoustic set on my favorite XM Radio station - X Country and I was also listening to the Tribe game (yay for multi-tasking!). The first half hour was made up mostly of jazz singers and was actually quite enjoyable. Then "that guy" hit.

"That guy" is often "that girl" but they are always "that" and "that" always goes like this:

What is life?
Are you life?
Am I life?
We are a life...

To which I stood up and screamed "IF YOU SAY LIFE ONE MORE TIME I WILL COME OVER THERE AND END YOURS!" That never happened - I would never think up something that witty on the spot - but when I was laying in bed last night thinking about it I totally said that in my head. I showed him!

Who writes that crap? I know we can't all be lyrical geniuses but the drivel coming out of that guys mouth made me want to slam my man parts in a car door (I need to quit using that analogy).

So I crank up the tunes/game and get on with life. Before long the first free-style rapper makes his way to the stage and, with the game and the DBT show over, I am left to listen. He gets going and I didn't want to murder myself so he is already an improvement. I would say he was talented but me criticizing a rapper is like Keanu Reeves voting on the Oscars.

The rapper was going on about how people in the black community don't stand up for themselves and hide behind racism for not improving their life. Then he dropped this line:

"We got more chickens than Church's"

Anyone that can work Church's Chicken into a rap is cool in my book - and sitting there, 12 hours deep into my work day with my eyes half shut - I let out a moderately loud chuckle. Not as loud as a "Caddyshack" chuckle but more than a "Son In Law" chuckle.

I wasn't laughing at what he was saying - just the way he chose to say it. This point was apparently lost on the crowd because every person in the place turned to look at me. I then noticed I was the only white guy in the whole place. Great. Now I look racist. Damn my selective hearing and penchant for laughing at culinary comedy. I look around at the collective death stare and notice "We Are Life" guy shaking his head. It wasn't hard to tell what he was thinking:

"There is always 'that guy' in every crowd."

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Top 5 Candy Bars

1. Reece's Peanut Butter Cups - Is there any debate? Sure they lose points because they are gone in two bites - but those two bites are better than that time that girl was trying to squeeze past me in an airplane and I accidentally touched her boob. Come to think of it, Reece's Peanut Butter Cups are a lot like boobs...only better. You can have your D-Cups - give me some P-Cups.

2. Snickers - While not as tastetacular as the P-Cups above, the Snickers provide the most bang for your buck. They are the thrifty choice for your penny-pinching candy eaters. Bonus points for great commercials that bring joy to the the world.

3. Kit-Kat - The Kit-Kat lost points for lack of belly satisfaction. If I had a never-ending supply of Kit-Kats they would definitely beat out the Snickers - but if I have a dollar and I'm standing in line at the grocery store needing a sugar fix it just doesn't satisfy my fat kid needs - don't judge me, Reader - give me a break.

4. 3 Musketeers - I had planned on including 3 Musketeers for the fact that it contained nougat. And the word nougat is hilarious. Say it - nougat. I picture a candy bar version of Ted Nugent playing a tiny guitar. Ted Nougat would rock. Ok back on topic - Wiki told me that the 3 Musketeer does not actually contain nougat so now it makes the list because it has a shiny wrapper and I like shiny things.

5. M&M's - Melt in your mouth, not in your hands? More like Melts my heart, not in my hands. Ok, not really - M&M's are good - but I'm not going to shank a homeless guy if I see him with a bag like I would the P-Cups. When you are sitting in front of the vending machine at work and you need something that is going to last longer than Miley Cyrus' career M&M's are the way to go.

I realize I am going to get ripped apart for not including Butterfingers but I gotta say - they just don't do it for me. They get stuck in my teeth and just don't give me the warm, fatty goodness of the others on the list. Also - I know M&M's are not technically a candy BAR - but I choose to not be prejudice and allow all chocolate candies live together in perfect harmony.

You know the drill - lets hear your top 5. The only rule is that it must contain chocolate.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Redneck Wiffle Beer Rules

1. Must have a drink in your hand at all times (batting, fielding, heckling).

2. Must bat with one hand.

3. Pitcher's hand (you are out if pitcher has ball before you reach first base)

4. 2nd base is a keg.

5. Must refill beer when reaching 2nd base.

6. Cannot score until beer is empty (you can cross home plate to avoid getting out but your run will not count).

7. Dumping of beer results in out and loss of pride, Loser.

8. Play 9 innings or until not enough members of your team can stand to play the field.

Just returned home from a weekend in Small-Town Ohio for a bachelor party. The morning after the party I had a great moment where I crawled on my hands and knees past my entire family and passed out on a set of steps waiting for the bathroom. On a related note, my 4-year old nephew now knows what the word "hangover" means.

Friday, June 6, 2008

Frugal Fortune

Yay alliteration!

My fortune:

You shouldn't overspend at the moment. Frugality is important.

Even my fortune cookie knows I am broke.

How embarrassing.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

This Week In Awesome

I took off work last Friday to spend the day getting probed and poked and prodded and other p words (not including penetrated...gross). My plan was to hit the dentist, chiropractor, doctor, optometrist and that masseuse down the street that offers "Happy Endings." I'm kidding - she's closed on Fridays.

Me being the opposite of responsible (fun?) I waited until 3pm on Thursday to try to make all of the appointments. The receptionist at the doctor's office actually laughed at me when I asked if I could get an appointment for the next day. I didn't realize the doctor's office was like a trendy night club and I needed to call my cute girl friends to sneak me in. Now I know - and knowing is half the battle.

So I end up only getting appointments for the optometrist and chiropractor.

First is the eye doctor - who gives me the normal "Read the smallest line" jargon which I, obviously, dominate because I rule. At the end he says, "Let me put these drops in your eyes for the last test."

Seems normal. Eye drops. Optometrist. Lets do this.


Now my pupils are dilated and I am 30 minutes from home. Perfect. The last thing he says to me? "Be careful - your eyes will be sensitive to sunlight!" HA! I'm a man. Doesn't he know this? One time I fell playing softball and scraped my knee. Did I stop playing? Hell no! After I stopped crying I played the entire rest of the game. Because I am a man.

So I walk outdoors and suddenly realize how insensitive I've been to Dracula's fear of the sun all these years. That poor, poor man. I would rather watch an entire episode of "Tila Tequila" than ever have to be in the sun with dilated pupils again.

That is a lie.

The only thing I can make out in my haze is the Burger King sign down the street - what better time to eat fast food than when you can't actually see it? Supersize me! So I go through the drive through and order myself a Whopper combo. Obviously I hadn't planned ahead because I have no way of reading the amount on the dollar bills in my wallet. I know I need to give the woman $5 - and not trusting the merits of a Burger King employee, don't want to just hand her my entire stash. I hand her a single bill and wait for a response. Like so many girls I've spoken to in the past - she gave me a dirty look and repeats, "$5 please". Whoops. I throw a few more bills at her and take my change - no idea what it was and go on my way.

As I pull out I reach in the bag to get some french fries and pull out half fries / half onion rings. SCORE. How is this not on the menu? I think every stoner in the world would migrate to BK and demand more french fry / onion ring combo boxes. Get fatter faster AND more efficiently. The American Dream!

Not being able to see I have to call a friend and have her direct me, by landmark, to my chiropractor. Luckily she had creepy knowledge of every BP in Cleveland and got me there in time.

I have never had x-rays of my old-man back taken so the chiropractor decided to get a few to see if someone had actually reached in and tied every one of my muscles in a knot like I had told him.

So after everything is done he calls me in to look at the x-rays and starts explaining

Doc: Your curvature looks ok - need to straighten this up a little. Your hip is pulled out a little but nothing we can't fix. Then there's....this.

Me: What's that?

Doc: are supposed to have five vertebrae (he then counts five, stopping before the last one)

Me: So whats that (pointing at the uncounted vertebrae)

Doc: isn't exactly a vertebrae - see how it is attached to your hip here?

Me: So it is my hip bone?

Doc: Not exactly.

Me: So it is an extra vertebrae?

Doc: Kinda, it didn't fuse into a full vertebrae but it isn't your hip bone.

Me: So I'm a mutant?

Doc: Not exactly.

MY DOCTOR DID NOT DENY THAT I WAS A MUTANT. "Not exactly" implies YES but in medical terms I am too lazy to explain to you.

So I leave the chiropractor to re-enter the world as a giant dilated pupil'd mutant.

But at least I have french fry / onion ring breath.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

When One Door Isn't Opened, Another One Closes

Mad props (what does that mean?) to Rachel for her post on opening car doors for the ladies.

This is something that has always confused me - because some girls are insulted when I don't go around and open the car door for them, while the Spice Girls taught me Girl Power and Zig-A-Zig Ah!

So it is nice to see actual opinions on the subject. I am not a car door opener. I'll admit it. Does this make me scum of the Earf? No, the fact that I don't rewind my movies before I return them to the rental place does (kidding - this is the 90's, I have a DVD player).

But I understand why a girl would want the car door opened for them. Mostly because a lot of times the car door shocks me. And no one likes to be shocked. It doesn't really hurt but it makes you jump and look the opposite of manly - which defeats the entire purpose of opening the door for the girl in the first place, right?

I might not be mature enough for chivalry. I think it would be more fun to walk around to the passenger side of the car and then open the back door. I just want to know what reaction that would get. But then what if she got in the back? Then she would see all the old sweatshirts and Burger King bags back there. Immaturity is such a cock-block.

But thanks again to Rachel for getting the opinion of the masses. It seems that the general consensus is that opening the door is not NECESSARY but very welcomed. Got it. Now I only have seven million other things to figure out about girls and I'll have it made.

Monday, June 2, 2008

What's In A Name?

I have somewhere between 2-3 million nicknames. Anything from Nom to Narm to PheNomina to Nook to “Hey there, Handsome”. Most of my nicknames are derived from my last name of Nomina (there was a short period where calling me Jeffrey Dahmer became popular, thankfully people stuck with the cannibalistic murderer and never shortened it to Dom for the chef Dom Deluise – that would have been embarrassing!)

People also love to put my name into songs. LL Cool J’s “Something Like A Phenomenon” becomes “Something Like A Jeff Nomina”. The Na-Na-Na’s of Hey Jude become Nomina’s. My personal favorite – “Make ‘Em Say Ugh – Jeff Nomina!”

In grade school some kids even made a song –

“It’s Jeff Nomina -
He’s a phenomenon.
It’s Jeff Nomina -
It goes on and on and on and on…”

Rinse and repeat first verse.

You can imagine my delight when last week BloggingJason shot me an email with the new greatest nickname of all time – Omnomnomnom. For those of you who spend less than 25% of your daylight hours eating – quit judging me. Also, Omnomnomnom is the noise we fatties make while eating. It is like our personal them song (titled: Shame).

Ok – kinda funny. We laughed - though there was no knee slapping. Then he sent me this link.

Consider these knees slapped.