Most of the cool kids have seen this already. Since this blog has never claimed to be cool, here it is, and welcome to the club:
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Pack it up Pack it in
I go a year plus without posting, and now I'm already on my second post of the day. If you haven't figured it out yet, Newton is AWESOME.
Anyway, in case you've yet to view it, the following clip has started to garner some attention:
First off, in Billy Packer's defense (a phrase I never thought I'd mutter), Charlie Rose DOES have a reputation for always fagging out. He's a HUGE fagger outer.
Secondly, the most recent argument I heard surrounding this topic, from a local sports radio program that shall remain nameless, is that Packer has so far been able to escape major controversy from this because it aired on PBS, which has more "liberal" standards than say, FOX News. Which is a valid point. Here's just a partial list of questionable material I've heard on PBS in the last week alone:
Liberal standards aside, my personal feeling is that this is not a case of politics, censorship or political correctness. This is about being old.
Old people are allowed to say whatever they want. Why? Because they're old, that's why. And because they said so. The older you get, the more crazy stuff you get to say. And if there's no one older than you around, you can say pretty much whatever you want. That's why Anne Coulter can say everything she says. She's really 102.
Take one of my uncles for instance (he's not really my uncle, I think he's a cousin, by I call him my uncle because he's old). He is 93 years old, God bless him. While attending a large extended family gathering last year, he exclaimed, "I don't give a fuck about anyone!" The reaction? General laughter from all. He's the oldest one in the family. He could have dropped his drawers and started peeing on the roses and no one would have cared (generally he saves that for Hannukah).
If there's one lesson we can learn from this, it's that we should respect our elders, and this includes letting them say whatever they want. What goes around comes around. And when you're 80, and you want to call your grand-daughter a cunt, you'll understand.
OH, and one more thing we can learn from this incident:
Who's fagging out now?
Anyway, in case you've yet to view it, the following clip has started to garner some attention:
First off, in Billy Packer's defense (a phrase I never thought I'd mutter), Charlie Rose DOES have a reputation for always fagging out. He's a HUGE fagger outer.
Secondly, the most recent argument I heard surrounding this topic, from a local sports radio program that shall remain nameless, is that Packer has so far been able to escape major controversy from this because it aired on PBS, which has more "liberal" standards than say, FOX News. Which is a valid point. Here's just a partial list of questionable material I've heard on PBS in the last week alone:
- "Eleanor Roosevelt was a gay" - Jim Lehrer, The Newshour
- "...And there has never since been a time in my life where I've gotten as much pussy as I did then" - Will Lyman, Frontline
- "After doctor give Elmo medicine, Elmo feel fine. No more burn when Elmo pee" - Elmo, Sesame Street
- "The best part about reading is that you can go to places you've never been before, like Holland, or places you'd never want to actually visit, like Mexico!" - Levar Burton, Reading Rainbow
Liberal standards aside, my personal feeling is that this is not a case of politics, censorship or political correctness. This is about being old.
Old people are allowed to say whatever they want. Why? Because they're old, that's why. And because they said so. The older you get, the more crazy stuff you get to say. And if there's no one older than you around, you can say pretty much whatever you want. That's why Anne Coulter can say everything she says. She's really 102.
Take one of my uncles for instance (he's not really my uncle, I think he's a cousin, by I call him my uncle because he's old). He is 93 years old, God bless him. While attending a large extended family gathering last year, he exclaimed, "I don't give a fuck about anyone!" The reaction? General laughter from all. He's the oldest one in the family. He could have dropped his drawers and started peeing on the roses and no one would have cared (generally he saves that for Hannukah).
If there's one lesson we can learn from this, it's that we should respect our elders, and this includes letting them say whatever they want. What goes around comes around. And when you're 80, and you want to call your grand-daughter a cunt, you'll understand.
OH, and one more thing we can learn from this incident:
Who's fagging out now?
Back up in your ass with the resurrection
Seeing as how I haven't posted in this "blog" in over a year (literally), now seems as good a time as any to fill the space. Rather than try to recap and recount a years worth of worth of blog-worthy stories, I'd prefer to focus on the one story that is captivating the nation: Keith Richards "relationship" with his father.
I've done my share of crazy things: I jumped off the roof of a house into 2 feet of snow; drank an entire bottle of jeger over a 4 hour period; attended a state school. But I can honestly say I have never (knowingly) inhaled a family member's ashes up my nostril. So apparently Keith Richards has me beat, as he has now claimed to have snorted the ashes of his cremated father...
*UPDATE*
Keith Richards has now recanted his story, denying that he snorted his father, claiming it was all a joke. You know, a joke. Like the time he snorted his father...
Monday, March 06, 2006
Hooray for Hollywood
Quick thoughts from last night's hollywood circle jer.. I mean Academy Awards®:
• In the spirit of playing only weird looking characters in her most recent films, Charlize Theron came to the Oscars® in a dress made for a muppet
• From now on, lets’s call the annual “In Memoriam” piece what it really is: “People who you forgot or didn’t know were dead”
• If Robert Altman really has the heart of a thirty year old woman (as he stated in his acceptance speech – I’m not making that up) then Lauren Bacall has the lungs of an asthmatic french street hustler.
• FYI: To anyone who plans on using “It’s hard out here for a pimp” in any attempt at humor this next week: it’s over. We’ve already killed it.
• Itzhak Perlman is super cute
• If the gay film can’t even win in Hollywood, what hope do they have in the rest of the country…
• No, Jack Nickholson didn’t open the envelope. He doesn’t have to. He’s Jack Nickholson
• Joan Rivers is still as relevant and with it as she ever was
• In the spirit of playing only weird looking characters in her most recent films, Charlize Theron came to the Oscars® in a dress made for a muppet• From now on, lets’s call the annual “In Memoriam” piece what it really is: “People who you forgot or didn’t know were dead”
• If Robert Altman really has the heart of a thirty year old woman (as he stated in his acceptance speech – I’m not making that up) then Lauren Bacall has the lungs of an asthmatic french street hustler.
• FYI: To anyone who plans on using “It’s hard out here for a pimp” in any attempt at humor this next week: it’s over. We’ve already killed it.
• Itzhak Perlman is super cute• If the gay film can’t even win in Hollywood, what hope do they have in the rest of the country…
• No, Jack Nickholson didn’t open the envelope. He doesn’t have to. He’s Jack Nickholson
• Joan Rivers is still as relevant and with it as she ever was
Monday, January 09, 2006
The Resurrection: Johnny Damon, "The View," and other Tangible Signs of Evil
Every so often, I make ridiculous statements. Anyone who knows me will tell you as much. On November 19, 2004, I claimed that the NBA product was now so poor, that a 22-year-old friend of mine with no college basketball experience could play in the league.* Not one month before this, after the Red Sox were down 3-0 to the Yankees, I claimed the Sox would never win the World Series for as long as they played in Fenway Park.* And in February of 2004, I proclaimed that I’d jump off the balcony of my apartment onto our snow-covered lawn in nothing but shorts.*
So why am I telling you things you either (a) don’t care about or (b) don’t want to know (particularly if you’re my mom and you’re reading item number three listed above)? Because in my last posting, I made a ridiculous proclamation, saying I would have a new entry for each of the last 10 days the Red Sox and Yankees were, at the time, fighting out the American League Eastern Division title (At this point, you may be tempted to click the link to the left to check out that entry. If this is the case, please be warned, it sucks. For something more entertaining, read the one about my lease). Of course, this didn’t happen. Which, if you know me, isn’t really that surprising. I didn’t write one entry each day, or one entry every other day, or even one entry during the course of the 10 days. In fact, if you are a consistent reader of this site (to which I say two things – 1. Thanks. 2. Sorry you’re so bored) you know that I actually have not posted ANYTHING since September, marking the longest drought since both the inception of this site, and the old online journal this site was born from. The latter is at least somewhat surprising, seeing as how I broke even my own record on this one.
Rather than make up some paltry excuse at this point (which, believe me, I am perfectly capable of doing – it’s how I got through high school) I thought I’d make it more interactive. The following is a list of “possible excuses” I’ve come up with that could have (but probably weren’t) the reason for the absence of any new material over the past four months. Please review them, tell me which is your favorite, and if I get more than 10 responses (hell, if I get more than one response, let’s be realistic here) I’ll post the favorite in my next entry (whenever that may be… Four months from now, Six months from now, who knows!)* And now, I present to you those possible excuses, in no particular order:
• A bear ate my hands while I was chopping wood in southern Maine.
• I temporarily forgot how to type for four months, due to a strange voodoo curse involving Judge Rheinhold and a midget named Hugo.
• I was excommunicated from New York after insisting the Giants had no hope to do anything in the postseason.*
• Underwent long, painful recovery after suffering second degree burns during an attempt to burn my “what would Johnny Damon do?” t-shirt.*
• Attempted to help the victims of hurricane Katrina but upon arrival in the region, was attacked by a pack of sex-crazed ka-nines and was forced into submission.
• Became addicted to Madden 2006.
• Became addicted to Crack.
• Became addicted to The View.*
In any event, I’m back now, and will make yet another attempt at resurrecting this. Into what, I don’t know, but I’d hope it’s be something that updates a little more frequently than every four months. Only time will tell. Stay tuned…
Until Next Time,
Aaron
FOOTNOTES FOR THE UNINFORMED:
- This happened to be while watching the infamous Pacer/Pistons game, but was said BEFORE the fight
- Sox beat yanks and won world series
- I did jump
- Off-shore gambling sites are now taking bets on this. I think the smart money is on 4-6 weeks
- I was right
- Ironically, this is what I thought Johnny Damon would do.
- I assume becoming addicted to either crack or The View results in pretty much the same thing; huddling in a corner, rocking back and forth, shouting obscenities and talking to oneself.
Photos appear courtesy of Hilary Siegel and ABC.com
So why am I telling you things you either (a) don’t care about or (b) don’t want to know (particularly if you’re my mom and you’re reading item number three listed above)? Because in my last posting, I made a ridiculous proclamation, saying I would have a new entry for each of the last 10 days the Red Sox and Yankees were, at the time, fighting out the American League Eastern Division title (At this point, you may be tempted to click the link to the left to check out that entry. If this is the case, please be warned, it sucks. For something more entertaining, read the one about my lease). Of course, this didn’t happen. Which, if you know me, isn’t really that surprising. I didn’t write one entry each day, or one entry every other day, or even one entry during the course of the 10 days. In fact, if you are a consistent reader of this site (to which I say two things – 1. Thanks. 2. Sorry you’re so bored) you know that I actually have not posted ANYTHING since September, marking the longest drought since both the inception of this site, and the old online journal this site was born from. The latter is at least somewhat surprising, seeing as how I broke even my own record on this one.
Rather than make up some paltry excuse at this point (which, believe me, I am perfectly capable of doing – it’s how I got through high school) I thought I’d make it more interactive. The following is a list of “possible excuses” I’ve come up with that could have (but probably weren’t) the reason for the absence of any new material over the past four months. Please review them, tell me which is your favorite, and if I get more than 10 responses (hell, if I get more than one response, let’s be realistic here) I’ll post the favorite in my next entry (whenever that may be… Four months from now, Six months from now, who knows!)* And now, I present to you those possible excuses, in no particular order:
• A bear ate my hands while I was chopping wood in southern Maine.
• I temporarily forgot how to type for four months, due to a strange voodoo curse involving Judge Rheinhold and a midget named Hugo.
• I was excommunicated from New York after insisting the Giants had no hope to do anything in the postseason.*
• Underwent long, painful recovery after suffering second degree burns during an attempt to burn my “what would Johnny Damon do?” t-shirt.*
• Attempted to help the victims of hurricane Katrina but upon arrival in the region, was attacked by a pack of sex-crazed ka-nines and was forced into submission.
• Became addicted to Madden 2006.
• Became addicted to Crack.
• Became addicted to The View.*
In any event, I’m back now, and will make yet another attempt at resurrecting this. Into what, I don’t know, but I’d hope it’s be something that updates a little more frequently than every four months. Only time will tell. Stay tuned…
Until Next Time,
Aaron
FOOTNOTES FOR THE UNINFORMED:
- This happened to be while watching the infamous Pacer/Pistons game, but was said BEFORE the fight
- Sox beat yanks and won world series
- I did jump
- Off-shore gambling sites are now taking bets on this. I think the smart money is on 4-6 weeks
- I was right
- Ironically, this is what I thought Johnny Damon would do.
- I assume becoming addicted to either crack or The View results in pretty much the same thing; huddling in a corner, rocking back and forth, shouting obscenities and talking to oneself.
Photos appear courtesy of Hilary Siegel and ABC.com
Friday, September 23, 2005
Wake Me Up, When September Ends...
Remember that scene in "Fight Club," where Tyler (Brad Pitt) pours lye on Jack's (Ed Norton's) hand, holding it while it burnt, and all the while, with Jack flinching, convulsing and writhing, Tyler preaches, "Stay with the pain..."? That's how I feel while following the Red Sox right now.
I figured we were past this. Winning the World Series last year was supposed to be that huge cleansing event that relinquished us from continued pain and misery. Vindicated! After 86 years of heartbreak and let down, with one great moment, it could all be flushed out. And it was. It was the single greatest day of my life the day the Red Sox won the World Series. But time doesn't stop. Here we are, back in the midst of the possibility of another September collapse. And though it's not the same as it was before, as the weight of years past doesn't seem to be placed squarely on our collective shoulders, simply put, it's still a kick to the nuts.
I for one am more optimistic, and think the Sox will put it out, aided by the seven home games that remain on the schedule vs. the mere three away from the Fens. BUT, this is not about what I think the Sox WILL do. This is about what I am GOING TO DO. For the next 10 days, I will (attempt to) chronicle the events, and my subsequent thoughts and feelings that go along with them, as the Red Sox attempt to do something they have never done before: Beat out the Yankees head-to-head for the AL East title... And you know that is what it's coming down to.
One game, 1 measly little game, separates these two, with only 10 games left to play, the LAST THREE being against each other in Boston. We know that's what will decide it. It always does. A seven game ALCS in 2003, followed by an improbable 7 game ALCS AGAIN last year. It always goes down to the final game when it's the Sox and Yanks. THAT is why it's so excrutiating! But that's also why it's so fun.
Since the start of the 2002 season, the Red Sox have played the Yankees 87 times. The Red Sox have won 43 of those, the Yankees, 44. One game. ONE GAME. ONE F*$%ING GAME. It's ALWAYS 1 GAME. You would think, with a full certainty that it will inevitably be decided on that final day, game # 162 at Fenway, that I'd be able to get through these prior nine leading up to it without incident. But no. Instead, that one game mentality manifests itself into every game... Most of which I can't even see (thanks a lot Time Warner Cable, NY).
So with every day, and every game, I pledge to you, fair (probably bored) reader, that I will have a new post, filled with the joy of victory, or the agony of defeat... as well as possibly one or more of the following:
crying
whining
anger
happiness
chaos
mutiny ($$ extra)
bloodshed
sex
drugs
rock (and/or roll)
bitch slapping
*editor's note: most, if not all, of the previous items will not actually be present in the following entries... with the exception of bitch slapping*
And with that, I bid you adieu. BUT, I leave you with the following, once again from "Fight Club."
TYLER:
This is your pain. This is your burning hand. It's right here! Look at it."
Go Sox.
Hasta La Proxima,
Aaron
I figured we were past this. Winning the World Series last year was supposed to be that huge cleansing event that relinquished us from continued pain and misery. Vindicated! After 86 years of heartbreak and let down, with one great moment, it could all be flushed out. And it was. It was the single greatest day of my life the day the Red Sox won the World Series. But time doesn't stop. Here we are, back in the midst of the possibility of another September collapse. And though it's not the same as it was before, as the weight of years past doesn't seem to be placed squarely on our collective shoulders, simply put, it's still a kick to the nuts.
I for one am more optimistic, and think the Sox will put it out, aided by the seven home games that remain on the schedule vs. the mere three away from the Fens. BUT, this is not about what I think the Sox WILL do. This is about what I am GOING TO DO. For the next 10 days, I will (attempt to) chronicle the events, and my subsequent thoughts and feelings that go along with them, as the Red Sox attempt to do something they have never done before: Beat out the Yankees head-to-head for the AL East title... And you know that is what it's coming down to.
One game, 1 measly little game, separates these two, with only 10 games left to play, the LAST THREE being against each other in Boston. We know that's what will decide it. It always does. A seven game ALCS in 2003, followed by an improbable 7 game ALCS AGAIN last year. It always goes down to the final game when it's the Sox and Yanks. THAT is why it's so excrutiating! But that's also why it's so fun.
Since the start of the 2002 season, the Red Sox have played the Yankees 87 times. The Red Sox have won 43 of those, the Yankees, 44. One game. ONE GAME. ONE F*$%ING GAME. It's ALWAYS 1 GAME. You would think, with a full certainty that it will inevitably be decided on that final day, game # 162 at Fenway, that I'd be able to get through these prior nine leading up to it without incident. But no. Instead, that one game mentality manifests itself into every game... Most of which I can't even see (thanks a lot Time Warner Cable, NY).
So with every day, and every game, I pledge to you, fair (probably bored) reader, that I will have a new post, filled with the joy of victory, or the agony of defeat... as well as possibly one or more of the following:
crying
whining
anger
happiness
chaos
mutiny ($$ extra)
bloodshed
sex
drugs
rock (and/or roll)
bitch slapping
*editor's note: most, if not all, of the previous items will not actually be present in the following entries... with the exception of bitch slapping*
And with that, I bid you adieu. BUT, I leave you with the following, once again from "Fight Club."
TYLER:
This is your pain. This is your burning hand. It's right here! Look at it."
Go Sox.
Hasta La Proxima,
Aaron
Monday, August 08, 2005
Actual Language Contained in my Lease
In case you were wondering (and I'm sure you were because, let's face it, why else would you be here), I recently had the pleasure of both reading and signing my lease. Let's stop here so I can answer your questions. Yes, I have been living in the apartment in Queens since April. No, I did not sign a lease when I moved in. Yes, there was an existing lease. No, it ran out at the end of March. I don't know, I guess we were squatting. Yes, I did pay rent. No, I have no idea who that money actually went to. No, I was not homeless at any point, but, Yes, I did pee in a cup for a while.
In any event, the lease has officially been signed, and I can only assume been sent in by my roommate. And if it hasn't, well, clearly living in this place with no lease does not seem to bother the landlord.
Before I signed the lease, I read through it very carefully (because you should always read the fine print. Otherwise you might end up dancing on a stage in Lebanon with goat, but that's a whole other story). Thankfully, there was nothing particularly disturbing or goat-related in it which would have discouraged me from signing said document. However, there was one section that caused me to pause and think for a moment. As luck with have it, I just so happen to have a copy of the lease with me. So join me now in reviewing the following segment, ACTUAL LANGUAGE CONTAINED IN MY LEASE:
RIDER
27. RULES
(6) Dogs, cats or other animals or pets are not allowed in the Apartment or Building, with the exception of a small Pomeranian to be brought in upon moving in. In the event that this specific Pomeranian is removed permanently from the residence or passes on, no other pet will be permitted to replace it. In addition, this is the only pet that will be permitted, no other pets or substitute pets will be permitted at all.
First things first. If you are like me, and were not certain exactly what a Pomeranian was, please explore the following website: http://www.akc.org/breeds/Pomeranian/index.cfm. It is very comprehensive and should be able to answer all of your questions.
I'm new to New York, so I'm not quite sure what the standard New York lease tends to consist of. This being my first experience of renting an apartment here, I can only assume that it is standard issue for all apartments here to have a clause permitting a small Pomeranian. And assuming that is the case, I think is delightful, and should somehow be incorporated into all apartment leases everywhere. I think if we all had small Pomeranians in our apartments, the world would be a happier, be it smellier, place.
As always, if you have any questions or comments about Pomeranians, NY apartment leases, or Lebanese goats, you can email me at niceprice5@yahoo.com, or simply post a comment on this site. Who knows, I might even post it with a response! And then you'll be like, "oh shit, Aaron responded to my comment on his website! That is awesome! He must really like me! I wonder if I should ask him out for a drink later this week? I mean he's not hot, but he's kinda cute in like a Zach Braff, unassuming way*." And then maybe I'll be like "sure, I'll get a drink," 'cause like maybe you're not hot, but you're cute in like an Anna Paquin sorta way. Or I could say something like, "thanks, but I have a lot of work this week and I can't. Maybe another time," 'cause I might just have a lot of work that week. Or maybe I'm just not into you. Or then again, I could say something like, "thanks, that's really nice of you, but I'm just not into dudes." 'Cause I'm just not into dudes, sorry.
But who knows, try it and see.
Until Next Time,
Aaron
FOOTNOTES FOR THE UNINFORMED (that's right, they're back)
- The proprietors of this site do not actually advocate the purchase by any Pomeranian by anyone, nor do they have any affiliation with any Pomeranian related programs or the American Kennel Club.
- Urination of any kind into a cup has not occurred at any time while in the apartment.
- Zach Braff is the writer/director/star of the critically acclaimed 2004 film, "Garden State," and currently stars on NBC's hit comedy, "Scrubs." Check your local listings for availability in your area.
- Anna Paquin, star of stage and screen, has appeared in such box office hits as "The Piano," "25th Hour," as well as both "X-men" and "X-2", and, the of course the most widely regarded, 1999's most celebrated triumph, "She's All That."
- No goats were harmed in the making of this post.
*This line contains material inspired by Adi Helfer.
In any event, the lease has officially been signed, and I can only assume been sent in by my roommate. And if it hasn't, well, clearly living in this place with no lease does not seem to bother the landlord.
Before I signed the lease, I read through it very carefully (because you should always read the fine print. Otherwise you might end up dancing on a stage in Lebanon with goat, but that's a whole other story). Thankfully, there was nothing particularly disturbing or goat-related in it which would have discouraged me from signing said document. However, there was one section that caused me to pause and think for a moment. As luck with have it, I just so happen to have a copy of the lease with me. So join me now in reviewing the following segment, ACTUAL LANGUAGE CONTAINED IN MY LEASE:
RIDER
27. RULES
(6) Dogs, cats or other animals or pets are not allowed in the Apartment or Building, with the exception of a small Pomeranian to be brought in upon moving in. In the event that this specific Pomeranian is removed permanently from the residence or passes on, no other pet will be permitted to replace it. In addition, this is the only pet that will be permitted, no other pets or substitute pets will be permitted at all.
First things first. If you are like me, and were not certain exactly what a Pomeranian was, please explore the following website: http://www.akc.org/breeds/Pomeranian/index.cfm. It is very comprehensive and should be able to answer all of your questions.
I'm new to New York, so I'm not quite sure what the standard New York lease tends to consist of. This being my first experience of renting an apartment here, I can only assume that it is standard issue for all apartments here to have a clause permitting a small Pomeranian. And assuming that is the case, I think is delightful, and should somehow be incorporated into all apartment leases everywhere. I think if we all had small Pomeranians in our apartments, the world would be a happier, be it smellier, place.
As always, if you have any questions or comments about Pomeranians, NY apartment leases, or Lebanese goats, you can email me at niceprice5@yahoo.com, or simply post a comment on this site. Who knows, I might even post it with a response! And then you'll be like, "oh shit, Aaron responded to my comment on his website! That is awesome! He must really like me! I wonder if I should ask him out for a drink later this week? I mean he's not hot, but he's kinda cute in like a Zach Braff, unassuming way*." And then maybe I'll be like "sure, I'll get a drink," 'cause like maybe you're not hot, but you're cute in like an Anna Paquin sorta way. Or I could say something like, "thanks, but I have a lot of work this week and I can't. Maybe another time," 'cause I might just have a lot of work that week. Or maybe I'm just not into you. Or then again, I could say something like, "thanks, that's really nice of you, but I'm just not into dudes." 'Cause I'm just not into dudes, sorry.
But who knows, try it and see.
Until Next Time,
Aaron
FOOTNOTES FOR THE UNINFORMED (that's right, they're back)
- The proprietors of this site do not actually advocate the purchase by any Pomeranian by anyone, nor do they have any affiliation with any Pomeranian related programs or the American Kennel Club.
- Urination of any kind into a cup has not occurred at any time while in the apartment.
- Zach Braff is the writer/director/star of the critically acclaimed 2004 film, "Garden State," and currently stars on NBC's hit comedy, "Scrubs." Check your local listings for availability in your area.
- Anna Paquin, star of stage and screen, has appeared in such box office hits as "The Piano," "25th Hour," as well as both "X-men" and "X-2", and, the of course the most widely regarded, 1999's most celebrated triumph, "She's All That."
- No goats were harmed in the making of this post.
*This line contains material inspired by Adi Helfer.
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