Last weekend was a blast. I’ll start with that. It was such a blast that my lack of sleep and subsequent thirst for sleep has hampered my productivity until today (almost exactly one week later). There were a couple things I was able to take from it, however. 1) It’s fun to spend a lot of money on drinks and good times because its silly and irresponsible. 2) I’m glad to say that as a 25 year old, karaoke has never been more fun. 3) Don’t hurt people who are extremely talented. That third bit of knowledge didn’t hit me until the next morning while I was listening to a live version of “Someone Like You” by Adele (a song that my roommates and I sang most enchantingly at the top of our lungs the night before in front of a crowd of self-determined apathetics). As  Adele’s angelic songbird voice was taking my soul to her hurt dungeon where it was made to stare at her raw pain and to feel … her raw pain, I couldn’t help but empathize with the guy she was singing about. How could I not? Her profoundly personal style made it sound like she was singing at me. Not ‘to’ me, but ‘at’ me. When she got the audience to sing the chorus for her I even felt like they where looking at me with scorn in their faces and rocks in their hands. So it got my brain engine turning. How can I avoid feeling that bad? I broke down the chorus to help me out.

Never mind, I’ll find someone like you …

Well, if she wants another guy like him, he must have been a pretty awesome guy. I was a little nervous to find that I posses this quality of awesomeness. Again, to remind you, I want to separate myself from that guy- Also, I’m tired of writing “that guy” so I guess I’ll have to give him a name. Merv. Merv Applewood. Anyway, I’m pretty sure it’s OK to be awesome, so I’ll assume something went wrong. Merv probably overestimated himself and thought he could do better than Adele. Bad move, Merv. Her hair is kinda out there, but talent is sexy. Red Hot Sexy. I wish, most importantly for my sake (if he wouldn’t have screwed up, I would have never had to hear this wonderful soul-racking song), he would have realized that.
Takeaway: It’s OK to date talented people even if you are awesome, but be good to them.

I wish nothing but the best for you …

Adele comes off as looking pretty rad right now. Hey, Merv would you like to say something back to Adele? Maybe how you hope the best for her as well? Too bad because no one wants to listen to you. You have no voice. You went and married a talent-less woman. I hope you’re happy. Uggggh, Meeeerv!!! 
Takeaway: Well, you can date a talented person, but it’s getting risky. Maybe forgo any impulses you might have to end said relationship. The phrase “the grass is always greener on the other side” is your mortal enemy.

Don’t forget me, I beg …

Oh boy. Sorry, Merv. You’re also not allowed to move on. This is not one of those things you can brush off and say its behind you. She has immortalized your blunders as a human being- and we all have them-in song. I guess she’s only asking this one thing of you.
Dear Merv,
I do want you to be happy. More than anything, I do. I also want you to think about what we could have been together and be sad about that for the rest of your life.
Love ALWAYS AND FOREVER, Adele ;)
Takeaway: I’m starting to wonder if its ever a good idea to venture into a relationship with anyone who has a sweet voice.

I remember you said, “Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead”

Why would you say that!?!?! Stupid! You think you’re some kind of poet or some shit something? Did you say that when you broke up with her? Did you google “douchiest  way to dump your girl?” I suppose you probably texted it to her as well? Oye! Ok, well you said it. So what now? That’s something she’s absolutely going to remember. The last thing you need, Merv, is Adele to remember that. I would say every time you want to say something so very over the top, finish it with an uncomfortable joke like “What happened to the Chinese man who ran into a wall with a boner? He smashed his nose.” This might at least rip that stupid thing you said from her memory. Plus,  she probably won’t get famous singing a song where she remembers you said that joke.
Takeaway: I think I made that pretty clear.

All I’m saying is be wary when you find yourself in a committed relationship with a talented person. In fact, you might want to steer clear of talent all together. You never know what you might say or do to spark something inside them that will find it’s way to my ears and upset me.

The Brewers and I beat my roommate’s- we’ll call him Lon Decker- Giants in a heated game of MLB 2K10 tonight and it would be a lie to say that it didn’t feel most wonderful. Howsoever, I find myself in a quandary. Why did it feel so great? It’s hard to quantify. Actually, there are more reasons to feel shame than anything resembling joy, but shame is completely absent from my being. I wonder why that is.

It is a game, just a game.

I in no way physically bested my opponent. I am supremely mediocre at all things sporting related. The players aren’t even virtual representations of myself. They look (kind of) like real MLB players- all of whom I imagine don’t have a whole lot of time set aside for gaming. In fact, I was able to enjoy a glass of red wine during the match up. Nice.

Is it because the real life Brewers suck right now?

Maybe.

I have a lot more play time than Lonny. Should I still feel good about the win?

Probly not. I shouldn’t be rewarded for spending the most amount of time not accomplishing real life goals and achievements. That would be like if they gave out money to the person that could text the fastest. Oh wait. 

I won the House Baseball Championship Belt. That’s GOTTA be worth something right?!?!?

Well, yes and no. The idea is pretty cool,but this belt isn’t even an inanimate object. That is to to say it doesn’t really exist … at all. 

WHY THEN, WHY?!

I think it stems from generations of primal maleness. While my ancestors bested each other in good-hearted bouts of fisticuffs and excelling in the business world, generation Y has been reduced to living and dying by the swords of wireless controllers. We still feel the thrill of a good whooping and the sharp agony of defeat, but it’s … it’s hard to say … ahhhhh! … reaching for a good word … different. Until it once again becomes socially acceptable to challenge a man to a duel for the hand of a prominent family’s virginal daughter or just easier to get a good job after graduating from college, this will have to do. 

With technology where it is today, it’s understandable that our generation has a hard time keeping ourselves entertained without it. Everything from our favorite games to our favorite books have been digitized and made easily accessible to the masses. So while you’re browsing the world wide web in all its glory, I offer up to you a tool to help you entertain yourself. It’s time to take a page from our past. More specifically a page from a delightfully small flip book containing hours of self-manufactured fun: Mad Libs. I modernized this one a little bit for you: enter Rap Libs. So get out one of those ancient #2 pencils and plug these into your original rap song.

(1) food item                         (15) word that rhymes with plaques

(2) noun                               (16) name of person you hate- first & last name

(3) Olympic sprinter                (17) a verb that shows affection

(4) adjective                         (18) a noun that’s a symbol of wealth (plural)

(5) verb ending in -ing.           (19) a stackable noun

(6) body part                        (20) your favorite restaraunt

(7) female dog (plural)            (21) your least favorite beverage

(8) a scavenging animal          (22) adjective

(9) your favorite animal           (23) Gastro-intestinal disorder

(10) mythical beast                (24) obscure President (plural)

(11) mode of transportation     (25) brand of cereal

(12) emotion                         (26) type of bread

(13) an opposite emotion        (27) name of a department store

(14) verb (command)

I WILL ENTA’TAINT YOU

Looks like we at it again. (Make a lighter noise and pretend you’re inhaling smoke). I’m goin’ in.

Well, I got more _________ (1) than your neighborhood grocer. I gots mo’ paper than a Dunder Mifflin. I’m an old school boss- call me David Wallace. I move more ________(2) than a jaded postal worker. Ship it priority… ________ (3). My rhymes is so ________(4), feel like I’m ________(5) on Shakespeare. Money oozing out my ________(6) better call the doctor, it kin-da hurts. And that’s not funny call it Carrot Top. Got ________(7) flockin’ to me like a ________(8) to a dead, bloated ________(9). I am a ________(10) bent on destruction. I’m a brand new ________(11) that is crashing this function. I’m smokin’ that ________(12) weed that makes you feel ________(13). Confused? Read a book, ________ (14)

CHORUS

I don’t need no platinum plaques cuz I got the baddest ________(15). Believe me,  Them ________(15) makes me a Big Mac, try that special sauce. Born to rule over all the ham-bourgeois.

Here I come ________(16) Heed my presence or I shall smite thee might-ily, Mother ________(17), come hither!

I don’t need a library, I got ________(18) in the back piled up like stacks a ________(19). Hop up in the truck, you. I will Scrooge McFuck you. We goin’ to ________(20) and you can’t have none of it. You’ll get ________(21) bitch, a whole big cup of it. I got that ________(22) dirty flow, call me Mr. ________(23) I got a wallet full of ________(24) just chillin’. Still don’t get it? Read a book! 

CHORUS

So pop that bottle, pop that box of ________(25), We havin’ baller breakfast cuz you know we break fast. Time out… Tim Tebow. Put that cup up to your mouth and drink of my wealth. That’s 50 carat ________(26) bread goin’ down your gullet. So mull-it. Over. It’s party in the back and business in the front. That’s a ________(27) employee steppin’ up to me. No it’s not a he. Yeah, she’s a she. And she party in the back and she party in the front. Drop to yo’ knees and beg for forgiveness, you are not worthy. And you are in luck, for I am not pervy. 

Uhhh, Eat a book, Mother ________(18)

Mr.________(15)… Right back at it….

Ever read comics when you were a kid and wonder if Superman got tired of saving? Me neither- kids have more important things to worry about like which Power Ranger they’re going to be at recess- but as adults we need to start putting these infallible characters under some scrutiny. Not because they can lift cars and throw them through people’s faces. What I’m wondering is if they can run faster than bullets, why aren’t they dodging their problems and responsibilities with a scary success rate? What up with that?

Often superheroes start their crime stopping careers with “the choice.” Do I live a normal life or devote myself tirelessly to Joe and Janine Plumber? Of course, if a biopic is to be made about Super ________, they must chose the latter. As a viewer- I’m going to say viewer because saying you read comics is like saying you read the “Rocky” Trilogy when, in reality, you watched it with subtitles because Stallone mumbles like a strung-out heroin addict- we need to see the hero make that choice or we get mad that they’re wasting a gift. Look at athlete-hero Jermichael Finley who squanders his God given talent almost every Sunday by dropping the fucking ball every other opportunity he gets (yeah I’m still bitter, Packers). OK, so whatever, they’ve made the right decision. The part I struggle with is this. I’ve made the right choice at a number of junctures in my life, but man is it hard to stick with it every single day. I have to imagine there are times when a fully costumed Batman sees The Riddler walking away from a bank, money bags in hand, and just lets him go. I mean, picture Wayne walking to Starbucks at 6am jonesing for a coffee with a shot of espresso after a night of brutally exhausting Joker bashing and The Riddler bobbles up with a shit-eating grin. Nine times out of ten, Batman gives him what for, but that one time I bet they just make eye contact and slowly and silently inch past each other. That’s the stuff I need to see.

Alright, so we have this infatuating type-A workaholic … who’s never an asshole? I’m just not totally buying it. I want to see the episode where The X-Men finally have a day off and go to a Yankees game. They want to have a lazy day in the sun, but this ump is really having an off-day. Some drunken fan is getting pretty rowdy in the bleachers nearby and keeps spilling his beer everywhere. The super team has to hold back Wolverine as he’s prone to violence, but he keeps his cool and the game continues without incidence. Two innings later “that piece-of-shit ump who better get his head out of his bleep hole,” as the rowdy fan keeps referencing him, calls Jeter out at first (when it was clearly a tie) and the crowd goes wild. How much longer do our X-Men let the game go on without interfering? One inning as it turns it out. During the seventh inning stretch, the usually reasonable and human-loving Professor Xavier takes control of the whole visiting dugout- The Toronto Blue Jays on this fateful Saturday afternoon- and makes them sing “Oh Canada” to get the crowd riled up. Meanwhile, Gambit starts whipping cards at a baby and Storm beckons a monsoon. Before long, The Beast and Wolverine are wailing on that drunk guy from before and Cyclops is crying because he just wanted to have a good time. This is the kind of entertainment I’m talking about. Real people with big powers.

Let’s just say that we’ve found this superhero who’s always going to stick to his oath without ever taking it out on an innocent “regular.” They would necessarily have to be the most conceited person you could ever bump into. I want a superhero who isn’t afraid to be that guy. For instance, Spider Man is doing a press conference at the Hilton on Times Square and this uppity reporter asks him why he’s only active in the city limits of NYC. I want to see him politely answer “Oh, I’m sorry. I think I just heard nobody ask me a question. Who did you save this week Mr. Nobody? No one? OK. Well to answer your question, time constraints I guess. Ass.” Zing! Now that’s my kind of hero. 

I guess I’m just being cynical. There are tons of superheroes out there with a flaw or two. I think what I’m really getting at is I want to see someone write a comic about me being a superhero. And I want it to be better than “Hancock.”

Sleep is a demon that has plagued the American Dream since its inception. How are we supposed to work tirelessly toward our futures if it’s tiring? Unfortunately, humans do need to sleep or their brains can play some pretty mean tricks on them. Early man probably coped with this crippling disability by taking naps. Somewhere along the timeline of man, someone had the audacity to proclaim that napping was only for lazy people, children and the elderly. Later on, napping was revitalized by powerful characters like Napoleon, Winston Churchill and (gasp) Ronald Reagan embracing the power of day sleep.  Now, as I lie down to blog, I can’t help but think about how great four hours of not being awake would be. So this brings me to the question of the day. Is it OK to nap?

I did a little research- OK, very little research- on the topic to help me decide. The National Sleep Foundation had an informative article on the benefits and side effects of napping. They say that a 20-30 minute “power nap” can dramatically boost alertness, performance, and reduce mistakes. But, sleep inertia can occur with extended naps. Sleep inertia is that nasty feeling you get in the mornings: grogginess, bad will towards all living creatures, and (as we called it in our household) camel breath.

After reading the article, I was still unsure about falling asleep at 1:30pm. My body still wanted it, but my brain was all like, “you shouldn’t because you have things to do, stupid.” Fuckin’ brain. If I’m stupid, then so are you. I just feel like I don’t have the discipline to take a 20 min nap. Naps to me are like pringles, once you start, you shouldn’t stop until someone or something makes you stop. And since there are a pretty limited amount of things to get me out of bed (I hate it when I can hear people living lives), 20 mins is pretty unrealistic. Plus, I don’t like the way they use the phrase “power nap.” A power nap should last no fewer than eight hours and should be called “going to bed.” That said, I kinda dig the phrase “sleep inertia.” 

30 mins later…

After not getting anywhere with that last paragraph, I settled on trying a short nap. Wow. I briefly considered revising or scrapping that whole block of garbage text, but I thought it would be indicative of how sleep deprivation can cause you to lose focus. So, I guess this what I’ve come up with. Naps can be productive and helpful if used correctly. In the wrong hands however, they can ruin your day and make you look and feel like a loser. 

While I was washing the dishes today, I came across another revelation. To give you a mental picture, when these types of thoughts strike me, I’m usually rendered useless as I helplessly drift away on a tangential life raft; try picturing me like Christopher Walken in the “The Dead Zone” when he gets a vision, but less scared looking and more zombie-like. Got it in your head? Good! Then we can move forward and talk about my revelation. I’ve found that when you apply the five pillars of Fleming’s Detective Handbook- this book will be my crowning achievement someday- to someone’s dishwashing habits, it gives you a detailed psychological profile of the subject. To restate that: the how, when, where, why, and what of washing dishes will lead us to the who. Pretty exciting, right? Let me walk you through it so you can try profiling a loved one or, if you dare, (bum bum bum!) yourself! To make this a little easier on you, I’ll use myself as an example.

When and Why does the act of dishwashing occur?

Ahhh, it’s crime time and you’re looking for a motive. There are too many reasons for one to clean dishes to count.  Thus, as important as this one is, it might not be easy to get a straight answer out of your subject. Even if you ask them directly, the dishman may lie out of foolish pride (shame).

For me, I rarely start washing dishes solely due to the fact that we’re out of clean ones. I’ve had milk go bad because I didn’t have clean bowls for putting cereal into. It was an acceptable loss. I generally do dishes for one of two reasons. Usually, it’s because there’s something important in my life (like homework or tax preparation) that I need an excuse to put off until a later hour when I won’t have time to do it. The other reason is simply self-image related. To help me decide when it’s time to clean some dishes, I imagine what the kitchen would like if it where a person. I need to clean it when it begins to resemble a fictional character (probably) named Dan “Anteater” Grambling, a disheveled and grizzled middle-aged, two-packs-a-day guy who dropped out of high school when his first love cheated on him with, like, the whole chess club, who is presently trying to recover from a six day Hamm’s bender by shoveling Cheetos, beef jerky and ants down his cancer-ridden throat. That is a sad, embarrassing, and confusing kitchen situation.

How and what are they cleaning?

You need to ask yourself a couple things here. Are they washing with an unbridled ferocity or just carelessly dabbing? Are they scrubbing off a pan used to cook a delectable bacon-wrapped filet mignon or a plate with an uninspired ketchup and relish mosaic from a half-eaten hotdog? Are they wearing rubber gloves or are they wearing a cutoff tee and sipping on a warm PBR? Are they listening to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata (crazy person) or are they singing along to Glee: The Music, Volume 1 (crazy person?)?  

I prefer putting myself in a comfortable place. I like sweats and a t-shirt that I don’t mind getting dirty, Pandora’s Kid Cudi station on for background noise, and I throw in a glass of Aldi brand wine to make obvious to the world that it’s an occasion. 

Where is the cleaning taking place?

At the sink stupid! Whoa there with the cynicism, reader. This has to do with the layout of the dishwashing area. If there’s a dishwashing machine, do they use it or do they prefer to hand wash? Is there a drying rack or at least a clean towel for drying? 

I use a dishwasher because I firmly believe God put us on this earth knowing we would invent them.

WHO ARE YOU, DISHWASHERMAN or DISHWASHERWOMAN?

Now’s the time to compile everything you’ve learned about your subject and try to make some assumptions and brutal accusations. As there are lots of variables, the results can be hard to interpret. If you get lost, just do what detectives do. Jot down everything you know in a pocket sized notebook or scatter pictures of your subject across the floor and study them, looking for something you probably missed. 

Here’s the example assessment of myself as an aid! I always put off doing the dishes for too long. Since my main reason for doing dishes is because I should be doing something more important, I must not have too many important things to do. Waiting this long to clean also means it takes me a long time to become disgusted with myself and my surroundings. When I finally do the f—-ing dishes, I dress and act like the bum my kitchen all too often embodies (Mr. Anteater). And, I guess my reason for using a dishwasher is pretty ignorant … processing … Final assessment: I’m not an adult.

Huh. I refuse to believe that. Disregard this whole blog.

END.