Wednesday, May 28, 2008

City Folk Just Don't Get It

One of the most common stereotypes I run into when I tell people I grew up as a farmer is that I am some sheltered country boy. One time a guy told me he had to check his stock and I was all like, "Aw hell! What kinda livestock you got? Hogs or cows?"

That didn't really happen.

So this past weekend I went out and got myself some culture. Unfortunately, the culture store was closed - so I looked to my fellow bloggers for inspiration.

Friday night I went to an Indian restaurant to see if all Indian people were as funny as my favorite Indian blogger. This kind of backfired because instead of them being funny - the waitress mostly laughed at my failed attempt to pronounce things on the menu. I recommend the "Umm...this one".

Sunday I made my way to the Greek Heritage festival to honor my favorite Greek blogger and got a little taste of Greek culture. I learned that yelling "Opa!" at any time makes you awesome - and man was I awesome Sunday night.

As mentioned in the last post - Monday was spent at a vegetarian restaurant. Another blogger mentioned the need to defend vegetarians as not all being wusses, and I agree - I think people who don't eat meat could beat me up with the same ease as people who do. I just have ONE question - how do you know when the veggie burger is done on the grill? It doesn't really change colors or dry out or...well...anything?

But it wasn't just this past weekend - I've been away from the country for awhile now and feel like I've gotten a handle on things like hailing cabs and hurdling homeless guys - you know, city stuff. I've learned about crazy new inventions like cell phones, mp3 players and some guy the other day even told me about the "internet". That sounds neat.

So now that I have completely mastered city life in every way, I have to say I am unimpressed. The transition was easy. Now, Cleveland isn't exactly New York or LA, but how hard can it be?

Now I want to see some city kids survive in the country.

Yeah thats right - what if you were stuck on a deserted island with a cow - would you be able to milk that fucker? Or what if you were asked the $64,0000 question and it was about NASCAR? Bet you wish you had a lil country in ya now, don't you, Reader?

Now, I don't want to concern any fellow redneck bloggers - I haven't turned city, yet. I still drive a truck, wear cowboy boots and consider fishing a sport.

But my parents are none too pleased to see me dating outside of the family.

Monday, May 26, 2008

Happy Beans

I just don't get hippies. I am cool with the "love everyone" stuff, have been known to hug a tree or two (maybe even some heavy petting) and enjoy not showering for days at a time. But there are certain things I just don't get.

Like Happy Beans.

I am a country boy - which means at least one thing on my plate should have been breathing at some point. Dead animals. I eat dead animals. And it is delicious. The lady friend? Not so much. She has a bad case of the vegetarian. She looooves chlorophyll. This being the case, we sometimes struggle to find places we both enjoy to eat.

So Monday morning we awoke after a long night of Busch Light and Mario Kart (classy) and set forth to find breakfast. She recommended a little place around the block and I am allergic to decisions so it sounded perfect to me. Then I opened the menu - the first item?

Happy Beans.

What the hell are happy beans? Don't throw an adjective in front of a boring vegetable to make me eat it. What next? Is someone going to come out of the kitchen and pretend my carrots are an airplane and I need to open the hatch?

Because that would be awesome.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Top 5 Video Games of All-Time

1. Contra. One word for you - upupdowndownleftrightleftrightababselectstart. Unlimited lives baby. Oh you don't care about unlimited lives? Now I've got spreads. Dig it.

2. Tecmo Super Bowl. Awesome. You think that toss right to Bo Jackson is going to score? No chance. Lawrence Taylor. And why the hell is Christian Okoye so good in this game? If Christian Okoye were to make his OWN video game he STILL wouldn't have made himself as good as he is in this game. Best sports game ever. And best in between cut-away graphics ever. QUARTERBACK SACK! Scary.

3. Mariokart. (for Super Nintendo - though the Wii version has recently decimated my social life). In college I worked for the campus radio station and challenged the entire Video Game Club to Mariokart and was never close to being beaten. I think that makes me King of the Nerds. I rule my KingKongdom with glazed eyes and sore thumbs.

4. NHL '94. This list is a sham because this is the greatest game of all time - even without fighting (a staple in hockey games). The One-Timer? Money. The Wrap Around? Like having a British accent - almost too easy to score. AND it keeps a checking stat. Tell me something cooler than a stat that tracks how many times I blasted your lil 16 bit Wayne Gretzky against the boards. Give up? Zombie Bears. (How awesome is it that I got bored and Googled 'zombie bears' and actually got 413,000 results.)

5. Mike Tyson's Punch-Out. Before Mike Tyson was crazy he made awesome video games. He may or may not have been a boxer as well, I don't know, not my job to follow this guy's hobbies. This game brought us the greatest video game character of all time - Soda Popinski. Fun fact - his name was originally "Vodka Popinski" but was changed before the game was released. They obviously forgot to change his quotes which are gems such as these:

* "I can't drive, so I'm gonna walk all over you!"

* "I'm going to make you feel punch drunk!"

* "I drink to prepare for a fight. Tonight I am very prepared!"

* "After you lose, we'll drink to your health! Ha, ha, ha!"

* "Would you like some punch to drink? Ha, ha, ha!"

Oh, Soda Popinski, you are my favorite drunk children's character.

Honorable Mention: Zelda, Free Cell, the original Mario, Madden and tping 5,318,008 into a calculator and turning it upside-down so it says "BOOBIES".

Lazy Post

I'm supposed to blog today because I haven't blogged since Tuesday but it is extremely difficult to be THIS uninteresting all the time. It takes work, Reader. So I promise a failed attempt at humor tomorrow - until then, enjoy the best video I have seen in quite some time.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Gay Until Proven Straight

I like to pretend to be grown up, so now instead of late night binge drinking, I get sauced during 5 o'clock Happy Hour. Ahhh responsibility.

A few weeks ago two coworkers decided it was time for bad decisions - so to the bar we went. My two partners in crime were single and female - and as single females - spent a majority (think 95%) of our time talking about guys at the bar.

Side note - why didn't I get the memo that all men were supposed to congregate at bars at exactly 5pm everyday? Is it supposed to be part of my mating instincts? I didn't realize guys were supposed to show up at 5pm, pay for a bunch of drinks, make small talk and then go home without a number. I hope Nature realizes how easy it has it. I wish all I had to do was swim miles and miles upstream like the salmon, or have the female eat my brains like a praying mantis instead of having conversations about the new Sex and the City movie.

While evaluating the room, my female cohorts insisted on asking the "male opinion" of every guy in the bar (hint ladies - guys don't like guys they don't know. It is our nature. I don't like a guy until he has made me laugh, until that point I reserve the right to call him either a douche bag, or, if he looks like an ok guy, profess my indifference to his existence.)

To my amazement - almost every conversation went like this:

Coworker #1 - He's kind of cute...
Coworker #2 - Yeah but look at his shoes...
Coworker #1 - Yeah I think he might be gay.

Approximately 83% of the guys they talked about they assumed to be gay. Now, I'm not a mathematician (although it does rhyme with magician - and I'm definitely one of those) but I am pretty sure only about 5% of the population is gay. In Cleveland, Ohio - that number is probably a bit lower than the average. Not saying there is not a thriving gay community here, but this is what you see in Cleveland, not this. (Wait - that wasn't stereotyping at all, was it?)

Is this really how girls think? That every single guy at the bar is gay? The most amazing thing was the lack of reasoning. One guy was "gay" because he was dressed too well - the next was wearing a shirt and pants that didn't match, so he HAD to be "gay". How does that work? In a girl's mind, a gay man either dresses extremely well or embarrassingly bad? Is there some kind of bell curve?

Do guys need to hang red meat off of their shirt, have saw dust in their hair and be operating a chain saw before you consider them straight? (Again with the stereotyping, sorry). Even if you talk to a guy and he IS gay - couldn't he fulfill every girl's biggest dream? No wait, thats strappy shoes - SECOND biggest dream - the Will & Grace fantasy of having a gay best friend. If I was gay I would get so many chicks. I'd be all like, "Oh I really understand what you mean." and "He's such a jerk! Let's have a topless pillow fight." And then all the chicks would swoon and I'd take off my designer sweater and be like "HA! I'm actually straight - lets make whoopie!"

I think I may have gotten a bit off topic.

Lets run down things that are commonly confused for pinpointing a guy as gay:

Over the age of 25 and single
Well Dressed
Not hitting on you at that given moment

So ladies, not EVERY guy you see at the bar is gay, I promise. Only the ones that can actually dance.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Ways To Piss Off Your Girlfriend

Walk into Babies'R'Us with your very unpregnant girlfriend to buy a gift for a baby shower and while in line rub her belly, look deep into her eyes and say, "I'm just so excited to be a family."

I learned my lesson - never make jokes like that without a head start and possession of the car keys.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Fortune 5/14

My last two fortunes:

"Focus in on the color yellow tomorrow for good luck!"

First - never had a fortune with an exclamation before - this wafer means business. Second - definitely eating at McDonald's Golden Arches in honor of this fortune - but I'm willing to guess my innards are going to consider this a misfortune.

"Focus on your long-term goal. Good things will happen."

Showcase Showdown here I come!

Fun facts about this picture:

I am entirely too lazy to find a computer with Photoshop so I made this picture in paint.

I had to cut my body and head separately - which is why the proportions are off.

I was dancing the robot in the original picture I stole this from.

My right arm was missing so I had to redraw it in paint. My muscles are still in real proportions.

Drew Carey is my Dad. Ok not really, but he is from Cleveland, and I live in Cleveland now so that means we are at minimum friends, right? I mean it isn't Myspace official - but it still counts, right?

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

There's No I In Theme

I've decided I want theme music.

I'm not really sure who I go to for this request - but it needs to happen.

Don't confuse theme music with a theme song. I don't want a theme song - I already have one of those (hint: replace lyrics with my last name: Nomina). I want music to play representative of the situation.

If I am walking down the street on a sunny day - I want the Peanuts theme song. I know, I know - awesome, right? This may, or may not be accompanied with all grown ups making the "wah wah wah" noise when they talk. (In this situation I'm not a grown up - just go with it.)

When the coffee pot is empty at work? Fur Elise. I think this would be much more dramatic while simultaneously letting people know that saying anything remotely cheery in my direction will result in decapitation. Or death. Or mumbled pleasantries.

When I go to all the "cool bars" I tried to make it sound like I frequent in the post below and then try to talk to girls - circus music. This is because trainwrecks don't have a theme song. Watching me hit on girls is like watching Paula Abdul act sober - I pull it off for a little bit but after a few minutes you are like "WHOA! You are TERRIBLE at this, aren't you?" And then I find someone drunker to hit on.

Of course there is a song for watching Cleveland sports. Anyone who knows anything about Cleveland and sports knows that we lose in spectacular ways. The Drive. The Fumble. The Blown Save. The Shot. The Choke. You can bitch all you want about your team losing - but you couldn't handle ten minutes of losing in this town. I'm not even a Browns fan but I feel their sadness through osmosis. Or lake water. Either way we've had 130 sports seasons here without winning a championship. Beat that (except you, Cubs fans.)

And, of course, when I find myself in an animated motorcycle race that suddenly takes a turn for the worst and the drivers attack me with pipe wrenches and I push my girlfriend, that I just met, through a magic portal to get her back into the real world and then randomly start throwing myself against the wall to make myself become a real person and not a cartoon anymore - A-ha's Take On Me. God, that was a crazy Friday.

(Editor's note: I have to admit I watched the A-ha video three times consecutively while writing this post. Do I lose cool points for this? And subquestion: Do I care?)

Friday, May 9, 2008

Don't Stop Believin'

My "2005 Senior Olympics Champion" shirt is getting less and less ironic as the days pass. I heard a study the other day that said after you turn 23 your body ages in dog years (I made this up). Case in point:

Last Saturday night I threw out my back while cutting a rug (the kids still say that, right?) at a bar downtown.

Keep in mind my dancing is embarrassing in its own right. I pull both arms up and move them back and forth - kind of like how a little kid impersonates the wheels on a train - and then I walk in a circle. If I'm feeling froggy I'll try to dance with a girl which ends in me being a glorified stripper pole while she grinds on me like a bear trying to scratch his ass against a tree. I can dance to 80's music like most white people - because all you have to do is scream the words and wear denim. Thanks Journey.

But nothing is more embarrassing than throwing your back out by doing a ridiculous dance. I think people were actually relieved - it was like I was being put out of my misery Eight Belles style (too soon?)

But that is just one example. I also notice I get hungover from drinking 5-6 beers now. In college I could drink 20 beers in a night and wake up the next day with a beer for lunch. Now I can barely pull myself out of bed after a six-pack. I think hangover should be directly related to beers - I could even set up the formula in Excel if God is busy. I'm a saint.

Two weeks ago we set up an inter-office game of flag football. I took me over a half-hour to warm up for a one hour football game - and I was still sore for 3 days after the game. I don't think I am far from the day it takes me longer to stretch than to actually exercise. Or the day I need to do some deep knee bends and jumping jacks before sex (luckily I could stretch for twice as long as I exercised and still only stretch for a minute).

But perhaps the most depressing thing has nothing to do with my physical condition.

Our office recently brought in some high school students to observe what working in advertising is like before choosing it as a major. I was assigned to describe my job to the three students - as well as give them a crappy project I didn't want to do.

I'm not trying to brag (I'm totally trying to brag) but I was one of the cooler kids in high school. In college I was that guy who knew someone in every class and had the party house that everyone had been to and thrown up at somewhere through their college experience. Even now I like to think I can pull off hanging with the popular crowd at the super trendy bars - even if I prefer the local dive.

To these high school kids I was a dinosaur. I was that 40 yr old guy who still wears his Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt. I showed them a satire on the ad business and got the reaction of showing them an episode of Reading Rainbow. But you don't have to take my word for it...

I'm not even 25 years old and already these kids have that "I'll never be that uncool" look in their eyes when they talk to me. I thought I had at least four more years of making high school girls giggle when they talk to me. Is this what getting old feels like? Is it time I hitch up to a minivan and drive off into the sunset?

At least I can roll down my windows and crank up that Journey...

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Jack of No Trades

Have you ever heard someone say that "Everyone is good at something"

I have come to the conclusion that my special talent is mediocrity.

Unless procrastinating at work is considered a talent - but I read way too many of y'alls blogs to think that I am any better at it than any of you. And if you are reading this, rather than writing it, you are already have more talents than me - because you are procrastinating AND feigning interest at the same time. Bravo, Reader! Way to multi-task.

I am amazingly average at a lot of things. I'm by no means an athlete - but I can normally at least keep up in the office flag football game. I play guitar and drums - but neither well enough to actually be IN a band. I can kinda draw, kinda write, every now and then I am funny and sometimes I get drunk and take off my pants at the bar (I DARE you to tell me that isn't a talent).

I'm going to be 25 in a month and a half - I think it is time I found what my talent in life is going to be (and quit taking off my pants at the bar). Without a talent how am I supposed to have the quarter-life crisis and give up my job to pursue my real talent? The only real skill I have established so far is forgetting the attachments on extremely important emails - and I can do that from the job I have now.

Other skills I have discovered:

Forgetting people's names
Planning lunch before 10am
Being a wingman
Talking about myself
Being the loudest clapper ever
Growing facial hair
Getting lost
Being taller than people shorter than me
Burning my eggs
Having a deeper voice than any other 170lb white kid in America (possibly North America)
Saying bands "sold out"
Throwing things with any form of accuracy
Not being right handed
Burning my mouth on pizza rolls
Faking like I know what people are talking about when they talk about cars

Anyone have anything interesting on their list*?

* - indicates shameless plug for comments

Monday, May 5, 2008

Who Do I Have To Fuck To Get Laid Around Here?

Hey ESPN - I don't care who Roger Clemens is ____ing. Hey CNN - I also don't care who that Spitzer guy is ____ing. To be honest, I don't really care who ol Slick Willy had under his desk and what ended up on who's dress.

What is up with the media obsessing over who is ____ing whom? (I am guessing that was incorrect usage of who and whom but cut me some slack - I slept my way to the top). Roger Clemens is a baseball player - meaning when he isn't on a baseball field - you can file his personal life under 'D' for Don't Fucking Care. To make things worse he came out and apologized for "mistakes in his personal life."

Hey Rog - don't flatter yourself - I don't care enough about your marriage to need an apology. In all honesty I had never really sat down and spent a good portion of time thinking about your marriage - so maybe I am to blame here. Maybe my heart was somewhere else and that is why you strayed. Rog - I wish I knew how to quit you.

Anyways I could really care less who is ____ing whom unless they are ____ing me - in which case I think I should AT MINIMUM be woken up for it.

Here is my Top 5 Things I Care Even Less About Than Who Is ____ing Whom

1. Pete Wentz
2. Desperate Housewives
3. That your boyfriend did the cutest thing
4. Where they are now
5. Anything on MTV not called Rob and Big

What did I miss?

Friday, May 2, 2008


Have you ever thought you had a group of friends that you considered pretty close and would be there for you if you really needed them?

This morning I looked in the mirror and noticed I was in the late stages of a mean unibrow.

Where were you on that one, assholes?