More Random Musings on a Tuesday Morning
I’m back from vacation, and I’ve got stories to tell. However, I also spent four hours on Monday crammed on a cattle car Continental Airlines calls an airplane while poor Lady E was stuck next to a Scottish guy who smelled bad and annexed the arm rest for himself the entire flight. I’ll be back later this week or next week with thoughts on New Jersey, Dunkin’ Donuts, the best steak known to humankind, and a ton of other topics and I’ll wrap up “The Many Professions of E Dagger” as well. For now, enjoy More Random Musings on a Tuesday Morning.
* I realized while watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall and Van Wilder recently that when I look over the scenes in my life, one is tragically missing. I’ve never been half drunk and broken-hearted poorly playing an instrument of some sort. There’s just something tragic and hilarious about that image, and I regret never learning an instrument to even pretend to forlornly play it. Although, judging by the way Van plays his, maybe that’s not an issue.
* On a related note, I’ll just chalk that one up as a loss because I don’t think I could handle it if I found myself acting that out if Lady E ever left. I wouldn’t be comically miserable, I’d be for real miserable.
* As much as I try to fight it, I fucking love that Friday morning song 9News plays at the conclusion of their 6 a.m. newscast. Everything in my being knows I should hate this song – it’s corny, it’s cutesy, and it’s a product of television news which is one of the most mock-worthy targets in existence – but I just can’t help myself. The morning show crew looks like they’re having so much fun and when coupled with the perpetual, although sometimes unfulfilled, promise of a good weekend looming, I can’t help but smile and make sure I’m out of the shower in time to hear it. I’m turning into a sap in my old age.
* Do you ever imagine a conversation with someone that’s never happened and likely never will, but it makes you so angry you end up pissed off about it for like an hour, or am I just totally fucked up?
* I dustbusted the cat the other day. He liked it.
* OK, let’s be honest here. Can anyone reading this website tell the difference between Olympic-caliber women’s gymnastics and college-level? Of course not. That’s why I’ve decided I enjoy college gymnastics much better because I don’t feel dirty and creepy ogling those girls’ perfect little butts because we can guarantee those girls are above the age of 18. And we all know that’s why we watch women’s gymnastics in the first place, am I right fellas?
* Here’s a connection maybe three people in the entire universe would have also come up with on their own: WEC Ring Announcer Joe Martinez looks strikingly like Chavo Guerrero, Jr.
* I believe there is no more personally confusing job than casket salesman. What is your first reaction when a disaster strikes your town? Let’s say you’re the only casket sales shop in town and a catastrophic earthquake kills 300 people. How are you supposed to feel about that? I suspect it goes something like this: “Oh my God, that’s horrible… Oh my God, I can finally pay off my house!” I mean really, how are you supposed to feel about that?
* You know when you have one of those “Eureka!” moments where you solve a mystery from your past that you’re so excited about only you can’t share it with anyone because it won’t make any sense to anyone but you – well, I had one of those the other day and because it’s my article, you get to hear it.
I remember one time I was drinking in college and ended up blisteringly and belligerent drunk throwing up at about 10:30. I had taken several shots and smoked an ill-advised cigar. I was so hammered, I remembered being confused at the black vomit and feeling slightly perturbed that it was black. I thought my lungs were rejecting the cigar smoke in what would be extremely alarming fashion. I realized while walking back to the office from lunch a few days ago that I had taken most of my shots from my newly received Jagermeister machine and that mostly likely caused the blackness and I was not in fact re-enacting something that likely appeared in a muckraking article from 1898. For some reason, this made my afternoon.
* As you well know, CJS is on Twitter. You can follow us at http://www.twitter.com/crujonessociety. Many people’s updates suck a big ol’ fat dick and are as pointless as an episode of “Real Housewives of the OC,” but Fake Steve Buscemi never fails to bring hilarious weirdness to an otherwise lame exercise in self-indulgence. My favorite update from him so far:
“I had to unfollow DonnieWahlberg–his giddy enthusiasm was worse than a black widow crawling up my ass and laying eggs in my brain.”
* Here’s a random musing I’m almost positive I subconsciously ripped off from some hack stand-up comedian somewhere. I love when the news does another story in an endless series of them about the obesity crisis in America and show b-roll footage of a bunch of torso shots of people’s fat guts walking around. I wonder if those people ever recognize their own fat asses and think to themselves, “Shit, I better not wear that striped Dockers button-up again.” That always kills me.
* I caught Con Air on TV again recently and this is my favorite line from Cyrus “The Virus” Grissom: “It’s not difficult to surmise how Nathan here feels about killing guards; and my own proclivities are well-known and often-lamented facts of penal lore.” Whenever I hear Malkovich eloquently cash in this line of dialogue making use of no less than three fifty-cent words in the span of one sentence, I get the distinct impression that whoever wrote this stupid movie (I can’t even be bothered to look it up – I don’t care) got so bored shitting out all this retarded dialogue, he threw himself a bone and wrote this hysterically out-of-place mini-soliloquy just to amuse himself. If this movie’s on, which is, y’know, all the time, and we’re near that part, I’m sticking around just to hear it.
* I got into an argument recently with CJS Regular Dollar about which is the best condiment. I said ketchup, and she argued mayonnaise. I fucking hate mayonnaise, so as she wouldn’t back off its greatness, I finished the argument by exclaiming, “The only thing I use mayonnaise for is to grease my cock when I fuck convicts.” Not sure what that even means or what that was supposed to convince her of, but we sure as hell stopped arguing.
* My alarm went off Friday morning, and the very first thing I heard was, “All I wanna do is zoom-zoom-zoom in a boom-boom! Just shake your rump!” I remember thinking this was going to be a good day.
* As a groomsman in CJS Regular Salwon’s wedding, when I went to get measured for my tux, the woman was entering my information and complained of the computer moving slowly. So I said, “Someone must be downloading porn on the network.” She’d definitely never heard that before and I know that because as the network continued to crawl along, I heard it repeated back to me three times. She was positively tickled by it.
*Another tuxedo-related one: Lady E and I went to the Men’s Wearhouse to pick out the tuxedos for me and my groomsmen and I told the guy that my best man (Hart) is bigger and taller than I am, and that one of my groomsmen (CJS Regular Keithage) is a couple inches shorter and about 50 pounds lighter, so we needed to pick out a tux everyone would look good in. He said no problem, and we’ve got a nice little Calvin Klein number picked out. Now then, he asked me their names and Hart happens to share his name with a certain NFL defensive superstar. I said the name and the guy just paused and stared at me. Not realizing what he was probably thinking, the guy looks at me mouth slightly agape and says, “… How much bigger and taller is he than you?” In my head, I’m like, “What the fuck does it matter? Just write the goddamn name on the paper.” I finally figure out what he’s wondering and say, “Oh. Not that one,” at which point the guy laughed himself silly and proceeded to name drop every celebrity he’s ever met for the next 5 minutes. My point: If Hart and I ever need to book a table at an exclusive club or fancy restaurant in any of the cities this guy has ever played, we are soooooo money.
* Wedding cake tasting – good. Engagement photo session – good. Engagement photo session followed by big dinner and cake tasting – bad. Sure, we had fun, but since taking engagement photos is essentially like enacting public foreplay for an hour, perhaps it’s not in your best interest to get all bloated on delicious wedding cake samples (om nom nom) when part of you really wants to finish what you started by kissing in the street for 45 minutes. Keep this in mind as you approach your own wedding.
* My biggest gripe with “How I Met Your Mother?” Thanks for asking because I have a lot of them. Normally I’m too distracted with the unconscionable behavior of all the characters and the unbelievably mean-spirited things they do to each other to notice my biggest complaint. Or I’m annoyed that no one seems to notice or care that for this show to work, it’s got to be viewed as black comedy/farce for any of it to make sense, but the people who seem to enjoy this show, enjoy it earnestly. But in the last few weeks, I find myself feeling sorry for the kids who have listened to their dad tell this boring story about meeting their mother for the last four fucking years. Can you imagine being 13 and listening to your dad tell these jackass stories from his 20s about skanks he’s banged, dumbass architecture projects he’s whined about, and drinking in some local dive bar all the time? If I were one of those kids, I think I’d have offed myself by now.
* Three things every kid should know before being allowed to graduate high school: 1) How to drive a stick shift; 2) How to use your side mirrors properly in a city situation; 3) How to parallel park in less than 2 tries. I was standing outside my office recently and saw someone look like they were going to require five minutes to park their ride. From my vantage point, it looked they were screwing the pooch badly on entry, but it turns out they know the particulars of their own car best because they entered flawlessly and didn’t even require any shimmying. It was that good. Having witnessed countless people shit the bed on their attempts, I was so taken aback by this display of parking acumen, I actually congratulated the woman on such a beautiful performance. She walked quickly to her destination.
* Reason #474 I Love Lady E: She surprised the hell out of me by actually enjoying Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle and not turning it off midway through. That was surprising enough on its own, but I’m learning to always expect more. So it shouldn’t have been all that shocking when she found the battle shits scene the most hilarious five minutes of the movie. But goddamned if that wasn’t show stopping.
* HDNet is possibly the greatest channel ever. They show a ton of obscure MMA fights, professional wrestling, cool movies and rock concerts. Since Mark Cuban is a gazillionaire, he doesn’t have to answer to any uptight jerkweed board of directors and puts on whatever the fuck he wants.
“OK, Mr. Cuban… What would you like to see on HDNet in June?”
“More fights! More rock ‘n roll! More tits! Fuckin’ Dan Rather!”
“Okay. Done, done, done and done. But shouldn’t we put something on for the ladies too?”
“You tellin’ me Rather doesn’t slay hos left and right? Fine. Let’s put Trading Spaces reruns on at 2 a.m. What do those cost, 8 cents? I’m Mark Cuban, bitch!”
* Lady E and I drove home from the bars the other night and she started cranking “The Way I Are” by Timbaland and all I can think is, “Now batting: Number 27, 3rd base, Garrett Atkins!” which is good because if I thought about how grammatically offensive that title is for too long, blood might shoot my eyes.
* And finally, if you ever want to make a group of conservative people uncomfortable at a wedding, just request “Filthy/Gorgeous” by the Scissor Sisters, boogey your ass off on the dance floor and belt the falsetto chorus out like your life depends on it. Also, be male while doing this. Not that I’d know or anything…
02 Jun 2009 E Dagger