Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Have a Drink On Me

The farmer dating site FarmersOnly.com has a slogan -

"City folks just don't get it."

And it is so true.

I realize why it took me so long to assimilate with the urban lifestyle -

I'm a raging alcoholic.

Or, was a raging alcoholic, before I shunned my country roots and became a city kid.

City kids drink because it is fun. There is bar hopping and beer tastings and pretty girls that are all dressed up.

No, in the country, we drink because it is literally the only form of recreation available.

Think about it. When you were growing up, what did you do? Go to the mall? To a baseball game? Did you hang out at concerts or parks or any other PLACE?

In the country, we don't have PLACES. We just have open space - and when you're 13 and sick of playing bloody knuckles for 4 hours, you have to find something else to do. Cow tipping doesn't count.

So we would have "road parties" - where we would find some country road that maybe sees one car a week and throw a party. Or barn parties. Or anywhere else, really, because beer is to country folks what Starbucks is to city kids.

In fact, when I first moved to Cleveland, I was so confused by non-drinking events.

"So, um, we just...like...go to the game? What about pre-gaming? And in-gaming and post-gaming?"

I just didn't get it. We didn't drink for fun in the country, we drank because we had no other choice. It was like a hostage situation - except really awesome. So not really like a hostage situation at all.

But, finally, after a lot of encouragement from loved ones and a padlock put on our refrigerator, I can finally say I can now enjoy many recreational events without being hammertimed.

But don't you worry, Reader -

Blogging isn't one of them.

Monday, July 26, 2010

All That is Man

I am man, hear me roar.

Last night, before bed, our toilet broke. I instantly diagnosed the problem, found a short-term answer and will fix the rest after work today.

I then spent the morning boasting to the Lady Friend about how much I do around the house. How I built her a closet organizer and painted the bedroom and fixed that light switch she hated and put in a new vanity in the bathroom.

Hell, without me, she would be screwed!

And I made damn sure she knew it.

Then she folded the laundry, scheduled a dentist appointment, paid the bills, put the groceries away, swept the floor, reminded me my socks didn't match, sorted the mail, watered the flowers and packed my lunch.

Then she handed me my juice box, patted me on the head and said -

"That's nice, honey, now zip up your fly and go to work."

I am man, hear me whimper.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Cleve Me Alone

In the post-LeBracolyptic world here in Cleveland, the national media has been taking turns throwing Nelson-esque "Ha-ha!"'s at us at every opportunity.

But one article stood out as the cream of the crap.

(Quick note - I fully understand ESPN's narrative on this. They have made a fairly obvious shift away from sports coverage to player coverage. You don't get updates on your TEAM anymore - just the player du jour (Favre, LeBron, Tiger, Vick.) These articles are meant to do exactly what I am doing - incite enough of a reaction that they get passed along and therefore, more hits. I am falling into TMZ-SPN's little trap. But it hurts so good.)

In this article, J.A. Adande belittles Cleveland before giving a loaded-question disguised as a chance to defend the city -

"If LeBron leaves, Cleveland will still have ______."

Is this where we are as a nation? That our worth is based on one tangible object? Because if so, Hershey, Pennsylvania wins. Try to argue me. If your entire city's worth is based on one thing that people identify with that city, who beats chocolate? Unless there is a town named Bacon, West Virginia, then Hershey, PA should be our nation's capital.

I am getting married this fall, I own a house and I grow a mean beard - at no point in my day do I think, "Yeah, all that stuff is great, but without LeBron my life would be an empty black hole made bearable only by the fact that I once saw a guy in a tank-top play basketball."

Yes, LeBron leaving hurt this city. He brought a lot of money downtown that wasn't there before. But ESPN and the national media seems to think that if our basketball team sucks, we will cease to exist - sportanious combustion of an entire city (no jokes about the river burning).

Hey, ESPN, this is CLEVELAND, our sports teams sucked way before you got here, and will suck for a long time after you are gone.

This goes for every city. I grew up in a tiny speck on the map in Nowhere, Ohio. We never had a LeBron. Or a mall, a movie theater or laws against dating your cousin. Yet, people still live there (mostly because family reunions are off the hook.)

So what does Cleveland have now that LeBron left? Peace and quiet from everyone sticking their nose in our business; telling us how we are supposed to act.

And vacation plans for Bacon, West Virginia.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

It's All About Status

Let's talk about Facebook. Or more importantly let's talk about who you talk to on Facebook.

Know who can read your status on Facebook? Everyone on Facebook. Know who can't?

Your pet, even though he just didn the cutest thing and you just wuv him so, so much. Yes, you do. YES YOU DO!

Your grandpa who is celebrating his 92 birthday and doesn't know the difference between Facebook and a banana.

Your baby. Why? Because it is a fucking baby.

Writing a Facebook status, particularly to a person who doesn't have Facebook, is like having a conference call with your entire address book to tell your girlfriend you are going to be home late for dinner. Only she isn't on the call.

But know what is even worse? Status messages that ARE directed at someone, but in some super sneaky, ninja way, don't name them.

"You are so out of my life."

"I love you!!1!!!<3"

"Thanks for the herpes."

In today's day and age, there are millions of ways to talk to people. You can email, text, call, message, direct message, snail mail, or, even, see them in person and use your vocal chords to form real, live words.

So why on earf would someone choose to make a status message directed at one person visible to everyone in their friends list?

Send them a fucking fax like a normal person!

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Jack Frost

Fun fact -

71% of the Earth's surface is covered in water.


71% of my body is covered in fur.

We are the world!

Being half-wolf is not so convenient when it is 95 degrees out for two straight weeks.

Needless to say, we've had the air conditioning running like a fat kid after the ice cream truck.

But here is my problem with the glorious invention that is air conditioning - when you want more of it - do you say you want to turn it up (as in - turn up the power of the air conditioner) or down (as in - make the temperature less).

Me being a rockstar - I think of everything in terms of volume; so when I want more A/C, I tell the Lady Friend to "Turn that motherfucker up! WOOOOOO!" and then I play air guitar and do the splits a la Diamond David Lee Roth.

But couldn't that mean to turn the temperature up? Just the thought sends a stream of sweat running down my back. I want my house so cold my nipples actually frost over.

Besides, I need to cool off after chasing that ice cream truck.

Monday, July 12, 2010


Ok, I know everyone is sick of LeBron, but the CLE is taking a pretty hard hit in all this and I wanted to clear the air, or as close to "clear air" as Cleveland gets.

We are all pissed.

Not because LeBron left. We would have been upset about him leaving no matter where he went.

But we aren't upset LeBron is stealing us of the opportunity to watch him play and to bring us championships. It goes much deeper than that.

I am robbed of the opportunity to tell my kids about seeing LeBron James play basketball. He told us for 7 years he wanted to be the Greatest Basketball Player of All-Time.

Everything he did was to be the Greatest. His "Chosen One" tattoo. His self-appointed "King James" nick-name. His play on the court and quote to ESPN the magazine, "I don't want to go ring chasing, I want to stay with the Cavs and build a champion."

Had he left for New York or Chicago, he would have become public enemy #1, but he would have still been the alpha-dog. The guy we hated but respected. The guy that put teams on his back and won championships.

So while I would have told my kids about how much I hated LeBron - I would still be telling my kids about him. About how I spent so many nights at Quicken Loans Arena cheering him - and then, booing him.

But now?

Now he goes to a team where he is just a piece. No matter how well he plays and the stats he puts up; no matter the number of rings he wins - he is just a cog in the machine. He isn't the machine.

And in 10 years when LeBron and the Heat have won a few championships, his legacy will be that of a really good player on a really good team that won some championships.

Not the Greatest of All-Time. Not something special. Not a once-in-a-lifetime player that people will forever mention along with the words Jordan and Russel and, maybe, Kobe.

I am not upset that LeBron merely left Cleveland, I am upset that my kids won't even ask me if I saw LeBron play.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Cleveland Reads (my blog)

Cleveland Reads is having their annual Reds, Whites and Brews: A Toast to Literacy event on 7/16 at Windows on the River.

You may be asking yourself, "Narm, I didn't realize you were into charities?"

Think about it, Reader, Cleveland Reads helps area children learn the essential skills needed to READ MY BLOG!

This is an investment for me. And there is booze.

Anyways, if you are interested in the event, Groupon is featuring tickets at a discounted price today. For $50 you receive all you can drink beer and wine as well as hors d'ouvres and a silent auction. Tickets are normally priced at $90 so check it out!

Because the kids need you.

And my blog traffic needs you.

So buy your ticket right meow.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Old Dirty Bastard

I turned 27 yesterday. I woke up like any other day, showered, brushed my teeth, and then started digging through the dirty clothes trying to find a t-shirt to wear. Suddenly, the Lady Friend sprang up from bed -


Ah yes, at 16 you can drive, at 18 you vote and 21 you can drink at bars.

And then, at 27, you have to stop wearing dirty t-shirts.

Growing up is a bitch.