Fat as I wanna be

Somebody please explain to me the fascination with being on a diet 24/7 365. Why half of my co-workers have been on a non-stop diet for the better part of their lives but dangle a donut in their face and it suddenly a free for all. I'm tired of sitting at lunch and hearing nonsense about how many points this is, how points that is, how many points they have left for the day.

It's food, not a fucking videogame. I wouldn't be so irked by this if they actually managed to lose a pound or two, but nope...their waist keeps expanding and they keep on counting points. What really gets my goat is that they look at what you're eating and almost always reply with something idiotic like "wow...that looks so good, but I could never eat that, it's so bad for me"...yes, it's bad for you, but not like the other 3 times you cheated and stuffed your face with chocolate, cakes and cookies. No, those were gastronomic vacations taken after a hectic day of hardcore dieting.

Lose the calorie counting frivolity and hit the treadmill.

Every damn day is special

If I hear happy Friday one more time I am going to start throwing random fists everywhere. What is it about Friday that people get so all orgasmic about it? Yeah, you get 2 days off of your crummy job but those 2 days go by so fast that you’re right back to where you started.

Am I the only one who finds this life style sad? Fridays shouldn’t be something to look forward to just because it gives you time off your job…that says something inherently disturbing about your job satisfaction. The same goes for whenever someone says “looks like someone’s got the case of the Mondays”…makes me want to slap someone.

If someone knocked you on the head, put your ass in an underground room, with no clock, for a few days, I bet your ass wouldn’t know whether Friday was coming or going…would ya?

Now I am a firm believer in the fact that if everyone started doing the job they wanted the world would come to a grinding halt. Call it a wicked blessing, but it’s a good thing that too many of us don’t have the balls to actually chase our dreams, so the uninspiring but quintessential jobs get done…but no one says that anyone has to fall into a “Mondays are the balls and Fridays are the tits” stigma, yet everyone almost everyone gets into it. Even at my job, most are, on Monday, quiet, morose and demure in the worst way, but at Fridays it’s all happiness and laughter ringing in the halls. Like the heavens just opened and gold is shooting out.

Make your own damn job fun. Really, it’s within our reach to make Monday like any other day so reaching Friday isn’t such a coveted feat of survival. It should be an alarm bell for people that live for the weekends that something is very wrong with their attitude about their life and their work.

So don’t tell me “TGIF”, “happy Friday” or any other nonsense. Every fucking day is special…well not really, but shame on you for not making it special.

Innovating the HOBO game.

Begging is hard, begging for money is harder, so that’s why I am amused by the new and evermore creative techniques NYC Hobos are employing now. The usual hobos are still abound, with their odor-ific charm and the gluttony of plastic bags containing lord knows what, but the new breed is taking a different route, the route of down on their luck.

I’ve had people from all ages approach me with a usually very sad story, a realistic sounding story of things gone awry, or pleas of understanding. Of course, I doubt, none of them are ever true because if these stories were real there would be many other courses of action other than asking for money from random people.

Here are some of the stories I’ve heard:

1) An old Indian man approached me, in a suit, with a black eye. He started talking to me, telling me how his visa and wallet were stolen, how he had to stay in a Sikh temple for shelter where he was assaulted for whatever else he had left and now he needed money to get on a greyhound bus to go his friend for shelter and safety. He wanted $30 dollars. Such an obscene amount only added to the realism.

And you know what…I gave it to him. Did I believe it? Not really, but it sounded so real, he was very convincing and after a 10 minute pitch I thought he deserved it for the effort. I guess I wanted to believe it was real. So how did I find it wasn’t real? Because 3 months later another Indian man came up to me with the same exact story, with black eye and all. Well slap my ass and call me Shirley, I was duped.

2) Just today a young black guy approached me with a speech about manliness. His words were and I quote “please don’t look at me less of a man or think im some sort of a crackhead”….you…of course not. God forbid I imagine anything less than of a god of a peddler. He told me a story about how he is living in government supported housing with his son among crackheads. That maybe I can help him out with some food while he is out searching for a job.

If he wants to eat, all he has to do is ride the E train and wait for one of those charity workers to walk around with free sandwiches. Not go up to random people hoping to hit success. Though I doubt sustenance is his main focus right now.

I really gotta give it to the new breed of hobos. They dress nice, they don’t stink, they offer you a story of their own salvation and how you can be a part of it and whatever else that can tug at your heartstrings. While this may work for them (and I am guessing it is because it is starting to grow) it fails with me for one reason: I have a job.

…And trust me, if I can hold down a job, anyone can. I don’t find their stories saddening because let’s face it, this is NYC…birthplace of hustlers. Also if someone healthy and well dressed is going around asking for money or food they have much better means of getting this stuff instead of simply asking for it. Their elaborate stories only give them away because put in too much effort into a lie and questions start being raised.

…And seriously…skip the heartfelt pleas and statements of dignity while begging for money. The oxymoronic nature of it is painful.

When will we stop pissing off nature.

Im sure a lot of people will see this piece of news

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080423/ap_on_re_us/grizzly_attack


"BIG BEAR LAKE, Calif. - The grizzly bear that wrestled Will Ferrell's character in the recent film "Semi-Pro" seemed to obediently follow cues — which made its killing of its trainer with a bite to the neck all the more stunning.

Three experienced handlers were working with the grizzly Tuesday at the Predators in Action wild animal training center when the bear attacked Stephan Miller, 39, said San Bernardino County sheriff's spokeswoman Cindy Beavers."


Now a death of an innocent man is tragic and my best wishes go out to Stephan Miller's family. However, what do people expect when you take an extremely powerful animal out of it's intrinsic environment. I mean really, it's a Grizzly Bear, the word grizzly is tacked on to it's name for a reason.

Why can't we Hollywood use CGI to recreate these animals. Not like we don't have the technology. We are at a stage in movie making where if we can dream it, it can be done on screen. So why can't we forgo pointless risks and leave the wild animals alone. I am sure Rocky didn't sign up to be in crappy movies.

The oompa Lompas in the remake of Charlie and The Chocolate Factory were CGI. They used CGI to make the 3 horses in Sex and the city look like "supposedly" attractive women (excluding Kristen Davis who is hot on her own).

It's idiotic we're still using, poor, very powerful animals and putting handlers and stuntman at completely aviodable risks.

GO Duane Reade.

...for having the slowest fucking cashiers in the world.

I mean it's bad enough that Duane Reade has the most, bland, unappealing aesthetic in the world...

(seriously, I know corporate franchises are suppose to individuality robbing institutions but damn!, does Duane Reade go the extra step to be so soul sucking boring)

...but on top of that they add the luxary of having to spend 5 minutes to buy a bottle of soda.

I don't even blame the cashiers for being slow because let's face it; working at Duane reade is like...well working at Duane Reade. I can't even think of anything more depressing. Bad enough a part of me wants to stab myself just to feel some signs of life as I traverse their aisles but why do i have to spend so many minutes dying when I just want to get overpriced soda.

I don't need a bag, I don't need a straw, I don't need a foot and a half long reciept with full return policy printed on back to tell me I overpaid for soda because i'm a picky bastard.







You know how they say the rapture will come in 2000 years and everyone will be judged...well the rapture came but it decided to be far more penal and methodical and decided to take form of Duane Reade.

A few things a MAN should know...

Now I am no chest beating alpha male, infact too many times the opposite, but there are a few things a boy must know and do to be called a man. Call me a genrealizing, chauvinistic pig but the men today are getting too effiminate or the exact opposite...but that's neither here nor there.

This is about something more specific. If you are to call yourself a sophisticated man, you must know how to wear a suit. I don't care what, it's un-excusable to be 30+ and wear your suit like a 14 year old.

I see too much of this and it's disheartening.

I am not being snobby. A man doesn't really need to have a suit collection full of Dior, Versace, Etro, Ferragamo etc etc etc (kudos if you do)...a simple suit will do but if it's put on right it can go on par with suits $800 more expensive.

So please guys. Please don't do these few faux pas when wearing your suit.

1) Go to a tailor. I can not stress this enough. Suits are made with general specs, not for your body shape. If you've bought a suit then go to a tailor and get it fitted. The extra $25-50 is worth it.

2) Wear a suit your size. If I see another slumping shoulders or baggy pants im gonna beat the guy wearing it. You're dressing in a refined, classical garment...not your jammies.

3) Older guys...please, ditch those ugly, ill fitted, sportcoats. That pattern belongs on the sofa, not you.

4) TAKE OFF THE DAMN LABELS. As much as you'd like to think they are there for show, they are not. It is not a t-shirt, ditch the labels.

5) Ditch the ugly ties too. Learn how to knot a tie.

6) A shirt matters just as much as a suit and this is where I see young guys as repeat offenders. Too many youg guys wear shirts way too mature or big for them. A 19 year old should not be wearing classic Brook Brothers shirts. It looks like you have parachute erupting from your back.

7) I swear to Jeebus this one puts a boil on my ass...DICKIES ARE NOT DRESS PANTS.

8) Tuck your damn shirt in. You can leave a shirt untucked with a suit but too many of you guys have that half tucked and half out. Unless you're a history teacher at a high school or a paper salesmen from Ohio, you have no excuse.

9) Buy real dress shoes. Black sneakers fool no one.

10) If you button all your suit jacket buttons than you deserve to be slapped. Period.


I can write a book about this subject and many guys think knowing how to wear a suit is gay and those guys are idiots. Look back at the 30s, 40s, and 50s when most guys knew how to dress. It's one thing to don an unconstructed, no shoulder padded, slim tapered pants, ankle showing, loafer wearing suit (which most likely will get you called gay and that most likely will be true) but another to rock a garment which has been in style since forever.

Get with it.

Fathers...set an example for your sons. Ladies instantly catch a glimpse of a man who is wearing a suit correctly. Don't believe me, ask the ladies themselves.

LA DI FREAKIN DA...The Pope is in town

Ok, now I understand that the Pope is the leader of the catholic religion. An important figure by all means. I also get that his arrival in any country garners intense security measure because the pope getting popped in your home soil is very bad juju. So I can stand the blocked off streets, the traffic problems...all annoying but understandable.

What annoys me though is the spectacle this guy creates, nay his followers create.

People line up in the street and get tickets just to catch a glimpse of this guy...why? People are in tears just at the sight of him and women almost faint when the Pope kisses their baby on the forehead.

Am I missing something? This man is STILL HUMAN. This is one of those things that depresses and infuriates me about humanity, the pointless pedastals we place upon people who are no better than us in the long run.

He is an old withering man who studied the good book a lot harder than the rest of the bible buddies...that's it. The significance you place upon him is all ficititious. The day you can prove god is real and he bestowed his PR campaign upon the Vatican and this guy is the marketing director is the day you can grovel at his feet.

What does this man do besides barely make it out of bed every morning? Nothing of any consequence really. All him and the vatican is good for is the catholic circus parade...the colorful garbs, the ceremonies, the harping of sorely out of date dogma.

oh and the denouncing...man if the pope can do one thing is denounce. The vatican must have a dedicated denouncing department. Any tragedy, natural or man made, is donounced by the Vatican. Go to any news website, read about the latest death toll from the war and you're bound to see a related news link where the pope is denouncing these atrocious acts.

What else can he do? Not like he can summon Jesus or even the lesser angels to smote the evildoers, smote them good.

The allmighty, all knowing and all powerful god's wrath is filtered down to a finger shake by his man on Earth. Also he is busy denouncing abortion, contraseptives, and whatever else means of population control...because you know it's wrong and stuff, never mind the context, it's just plain-freakin-wrong. Homosexuality, another issue which keeps the Pope busy.

He is not god, he is a man. People are all worked up in a excited ferver just at the thought of hearing this guy in their home state.

"OMG the Pope kissed my baby...OMG...little Timmy is gonna grow up to be a great man now"

"Im so blessed...The pope farted in my direction, Im glad I brought a glass jar to trap the air in the vicinity of his gaseous release"

Gimme a break.