farting in the shower

I MOVED

2010-10-25T11:48:00.002-04:00

You can find me here now:

Story by Joel

hope to see you there!

The Seed of Moe Greene

2010-10-09T07:03:00.007-04:00

My best friend and FITS contributor Moe Greene gave me a call Friday to let me know he and his son Peyton were planning on taking a tour of the Washington Nationals Stadium. Since that's only a few blocks from where I work he asked if I might want to meet up with them after the tour... They're basically my two favorite people in the world, so I was pretty excited. We ended up hanging out in one of the coolest parks on Capitol Hill, Garfield Park. Of course I took some pics:

The Motel

2010-09-27T09:14:00.003-04:00

When my grandparents bought their house in Southern Virginia back in the early 70's it was surrounded by a whole lot of nothing. It stayed that way for a few years but then came the motel. It was built, against their objection, right in their backyard. The back parking lot runs right up against their property line. They put up a privacy fence and planted some trees, but the motel and in inhabitants were still just a stone's throw away.

The motel was of a course of constant nuisance in their lives. There was a continuous flow of travelers, transients, cheating spouses, and derelicts making the motel their temporary home. There were arguments, fights, loud music, and even the occasional police raid. When I would visit during the summers as a child my grandmother was constantly warning me not to go near or even look over the fence... so of course, that's what I spent most of my time trying to do.

I would peer through holes in the fence for hours at a time just waiting for something entertaining to happen... but mostly, nothing ever did. Sometimes I would see a group of guys drinking in the parking lot. Sometimes they'd shot craps or have a card game. Once I remeber seeing two fat teenage boys get into a fight while a group of adults watched on laughing. They rolled around in the parking lot trying to choke each other for what seemed like ten or twenty minutes until one of them tore a big hole in his pants and his ass came flying out. Another time I saw a couple having sex in the back of a pickup truck. I was still too young to really uinderstand what they were doing, but I knew it was something I wasn't supposed to see and I liked it.

But for the most part, all the good stuff tended to happen at night when I was in bed. I would hear loud noises, commotion, screaming and cursing, then maybe a police siren. I'd lay in bed trying to create a story to explain whatever he mystery noises I'd heard. I'd fall asleep with my immagination still running wild and would dream that the "motel people" had hoped the fence and were try to break in my grandparent's house. But of course, nothing like that actually ever happened.

Eventually the motel changed owners and things began to quiet down. The clientel hasn't changed much, but the new owners seems to be much less tolerant of disturbing the peace. My grandfather has been gone for quite some time and I haven't heard my grandmother complain about the motel for several years.

When I was a kid I would see the motel sign and get a nervous feeling in my stomach, kind of like when you're watching a movie and the dramtic music starts playing in the background. Now when I see that motel sign pop up into the horizon I find it comforting. The trip to my grandmother's house takes nearly four hours and when I see that sign I know we've arrived at our destination and that I'm about to get a warm hug from my grandmother.

The New Toy

2010-09-23T09:15:00.004-04:00

I got a new camera at the end of August and so it's been a great month trying to break it in:

Kicking Puppies

2010-09-13T10:38:00.002-04:00

Sometimes you come across a moment in life that is so poignant and so impactful that you must blog about it… even if you haven’t really blogged with any seriousness in over six months.

A girl that is very near and dear to my heart recently began dating someone for the first time in a long time. She is usually very cautious and very deliberate when it comes to matters of the heart. But this time is different. This time she’s letting her guard down and getting her hopes up, and she’s not taking her time. It's been a very big source of contention between us... and that’s what I was thinking about as I saw the “Italian Couple” in the lobby of the Capitol South metro station.

They were both in their early to mid-twenties. They were both strikingly good looking with dark hair and dark features. If you were casting a role of an Italian couple for a movie, you would pick them. But this wasn’t a movie. They were real and they were standing right in front of me as I waited in line to add money to my fare card.

They were speaking softly to each other in Italian as they embraced. It was the kind of embrace that can be immediately recognized as a sad goodbye. Neither of them wanted to let go, so they just stood there… holding each other.

As I stood there watching I couldn’t help but be overcome with the kind of sentimental, sappy feeling that makes you say, “awwww,” the way 10 year old girls do when they see a puppy or a kitten curled up in a blanket.

Finally, they shared one last kiss before parting ways. I kept watching though, waiting to see them do the inevitable stop, turn around, and go back for one more kiss. Sure enough, the girl only got about five or six steps away when she made her turn around… Her beloved boyfriend on the other hand was walking away quickly in the opposite direction. She waited for a moment to see if he would turn back but I knew he wouldn’t. His back was turned to her, but not to me. I could see that he was already texting someone… and he had a grin on his face… He couldn’t wait to get away!

It was like watching him kick the cute little puppy that made me say, “awwww,” only two minutes ago.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging the Italian guy… I’ve been that guy… Striking good looks and cool accent aside, I’ve been a puppy kicker. Most men are puppy kickers. It’s in out nature… and that’s the problem… I don’t want my friend to date a puppy kicker. But the chances are that’s exactly what she’s going to get.

So...

2010-08-19T12:30:00.003-04:00

...I know I don't blog anymore, but I thought I'd share with everyone what I've been up to over this year.

52 Weeks (6/52)

2010-03-12T18:35:00.009-05:00

I know this post is a few days early, but since making my semi-return to blogging I've been a little selfish. I've mainly been posting for myself... I don't mean that to say nobody is reading --because thankfully, you are-- I mean it in the sense that I haven't really been posting with the intent to entertain anyone but me. Part of that is lack of inspiration and part of that is laziness, but like I said, mainly selfishness.

I'm a better writer than photographer, which doesn't bother me in the least, but for some reason I just haven't been able to enjoy the writing process the way I once did, and that does bother me... but still, every once in a while I get that once familiar urge to dance my fingers across the keyboard and share my thoughts with whoever will willingly read them. The latest topic to arouse that feeling in me is one of the most pure, optimistic, and lasting subjects in my life... baseball...

Spring training is underway and for the first time in several years, my beloved Nats actually have a few rays of hope peaking through the dark clouds of doubt that seem to perpetually hover in our skies. I'm not suffering any misconceptions that the team will contend for a title (or even put up a winning record) but they do have some exciting young players whose energy and enthusiasm can't help but be contagious. Even a jaded and cynical fan like me is looking forward to what this season might bring.

It also probably helps that that the arrival of spring, and by proximity baseball, is ushering out one of the coldest, bleakest, and most snow covered winters in this city's memory. I find myself longing for green grass, tall glasses of lemonade, line drive doubles to the gap, and sunshine bright enough to make me squint.

Hopefully, all those elements will come together on April 5th, 2010. That's "Opening Day" for the Nationals, and for the 3rd season in a row, I'll be at the ballpark with my best friend Moe Greene. Of course I know that the optimism will, in all liklihood, only last the first week of the season. I may probably find myself miserable and angry more often than pleased with the team this year, but right now that doesn't matter. I'm longing to feel warm, to have hope, and to be inspired.

...these tickets make me feel that way...

I'm going to keep posting my 52 Weeks updates, but I'll be sure not to forget I'm here to write as well. Thanks for sticking with me for all these years you guys!

*Nerdy photo info: I've been really drawn to extremely shallow depth of field shots of late (that's where you have a very small area of the picture in focus and blur out the rest to add emphasis). I took this on my desk at work. I used a flash to bounce light off the ceiling from the right to make the light nice and soft.

52 Weeks (5/52)

2010-03-08T19:21:00.004-05:00

Okay so I have a couple of things to share this week... to start with, I'm more or less past my breakdown over last weeks poor results. I was seriously close to selling off my gear and directing all my creative energies into becoming a recclusive alcoholic and recreational drug abuser... it might be just as expensive but it wouldn't be nearly as frustrating.

But then I came to two conclusions, (1) as romantic as being a wino might seem, I don't think I'm ready for the part where you have to bathe your arm pits in a gas station bathroom, and (2) I'm really not as bad as I thought... I mean, yes, last week was bad, but I've only been trying to learn artificial lighting for a couple weeks now. My passion has always been street photography and I'm actually okay at that.

So with that newfound optimism in mind, I decided to continue the 52 Weeks project and go back to something simple until I have the energy and confidence to try something ambitious again.

So that is my moleskine journal... still going strong... and as you can see, I've been adding in pictures with the Polaroid Pogo I bought a couple weeks ago. They're a fabulous match. The pictures here were before and after fortune cookie pics, I'm not sure why the "after" shot has that weird glow to it, I think it had something to do with the two pics rubbing together in the book? Regardless, I kinda like the effect.

52 Weeks (4th Week)

2010-03-01T07:43:00.004-05:00

I did get a shot for the 4th week of my project, you just can't see it yet! I was busy with school stuff yesterday so I haven't gotten around to giving it a quick edit yet... I'll add it on as an update to this post sometime this evening.

To give you a little background, I had all sorts of issue this week. I had a really great idea for a shot bouncing around in my head all week. However, the subject in the shot (my nephew Kevin) wasn't actually available until Saturday night which is pretty last minute.

And of course, when it came time to do the shoot, everything went wrong. My backdrop wasn't big enough, so I was trying to move things around to compensate, and things basically deteriorated from that point on. I ended up scrapping the idea (or at least sending it back to the drawing board) in favor of something safer (which of course I'm not totally pleased with either). Anyway, as I said before, I'll post whatever I can manage to salvage sometime later today.

It was a frustrating experience but the whole point of this project is to force myself to try new things and learn from the mistakes... I've certainly got the mistakes part down so I'm halfway there!

(Update)

Here it is:

So, like I said, not exactley what I was hopoing for. I did a similar shot with him before (not for this project though) but I tried out a diferent lighting setup this time around... and even with that, I should have used a reflector or something behind him to seperate his hair from the background... ugh... not happy with this at all but at least I can look at it and tell what I need to improve.

52 Weeks: Week 3

2010-02-20T12:27:00.002-05:00

I've been spending way too much money on photography over the last couple months. Some necessary, some not... As a result I've decided to implement a self imposed "spending freeze" on all photography realated products until Spring.

Anyway, here are my two final purchases before the freeze starts:

That is the Polaroid Pogo and its printing a shot of a Sigma 10-20mm lens.

The lens was necessary cause I didn't really have a true wide angle lens, and the Pogo is just a fun little toy. The print quality isn't all that great but its about the size of an iPhone and doesn't use any ink, just zink paper. The best part is that you can peel the back of the pictures off and reveal a sticky back. It should be worth it for the photojournal potential alone!

Week 2 of 52

2010-02-13T00:20:00.005-05:00

You bring the McNuggets and I'll bring the RV...

Uruguay or Bust

-->See it bigger here.<--

52 Weeks

2010-02-05T20:54:00.008-05:00

I'd like to say I have a good excuse for my absence, but I don't... My first inclination is to blame school but the truth is that from early December up until about 2 weeks ago I was on winter break.

For normal college students winter break means you go back home, go out every night, hit a lot of parties, sleep with girls who were too prudish to put out in High School but just spent the Fall semester having their moral beliefs compromised and tossed aside by drunken frat guys and are now suddenly more than willing.

Its not quite the same when you're a 30 year old married student with a full time job and bills. I spent my break falling asleep on the couch at 9 pm after a marathon Xbox 360 sessions. I had planned on blogging, taking lots of pictures, and making at least a half dozen road trips... the result was no blog posts, a moderate amount of pictures, and one road trip... although it was a long trip all the way to Houston.

Now that school is back in swing full force and my free time has been severely crippled, I figure its time to try start blogging again!

Anyway, I've been really getting into a type of photography called "Strobist" which basically involves setting up a couple of flashes to create the kind of lighting you want in whatever in any situation. Its a cheap and fun way to add some creativity to you photographs, and because you're the one controlling the lighting conditions, there aren't really valid excuses not to be able to shoot.

My plan is to take at least one "Strobist" shot a week for the next 52 weeks. A lot of people do projects where they shoot one shot a day, but lets be realistic here, we're into February and I'm just now making my first blog post of 2010! To make things worse, I'm attempting to take a full schedule for the first time since going back to college. One shot a week will be plenty.

Here's my shot from week one:

Its Gonna Be a Long Semester

I set up one flash to the right of the camera and one is sitting on the keyboard to try and simulate the light from the laptop.

I'll keep posting my Project 52 updates here on FITS, but you can always check out my Flickr to see what other mediocre crap I've been putting out. I put a link on the side of the blog. I'm going to try and have the updates come out every weekend so they'll be up for Monday, but don't hold me to that because we all know how I am about commitments!

I'm Asking Santa for a Flask

2009-12-03T08:47:00.003-05:00

My grandmother just called me three times in the last hour. On the final call she left me a message urging me to call her back right away... I thought for sure someone had died or was about to die. As soon as I heard the message I got up in the middle of a meeting and left to call her back.

What was so urgent? What was the crisis that need immediate attention?

She wanted to know what kind of pie she should bake when I come visit for Christmas!

I wanted to respond by screaming, "are you fucking kidding me," into the phone but instead I kindly responded that apple pie would be just fine.

The final straw came a few seconds later when she told me that she had just gotten off the phone with my sister who already told her that apple pie was my favorite!

On Monday night I had to carry seven boxes of tacky, cheap, annoying Christmas ornaments out of storage so my wife could decorate for the holidays... seven boxes!

Christmas is here Shower Farters, and there is nothing we can do to make it go away. Its going to be cold, its going to be bitter, and it will last for the rest of the year.

Who needs a drink?

Oh Yeah...

2009-12-01T08:48:00.003-05:00

...I keep forgetting I have a blog... seriously... I just remembered this morning and it felt like I had somehow forgotten a birthday or anniversary.

I'll make it up to you somehow. I promise.

Rambling Answers...

2009-11-09T09:55:00.003-05:00

In response to my case of writer's block, HP made some wonderful suggestions for topics I could post about, including:

Marriage advice
The meaning of life
How to solve inner city poverty
Supporting your children in sports even if you're not a sports fan
Picking a super power
Pepsi vs Coke
Boobs vs Ass

All of those topics interested me. As I read each suggestion I imagined myself writing on each of those subjects and was sure I had enough writing material to last me a month. So what happened?

I responded with absolutely nothing.

That's actually not entirely true. I managed to actually get off to a good start with the marriage advice post. Check it out:

I find the prospect of writing a marital advice post both intriguing and frightening. Intriguing in the sense that its something I'd actually like to write about, and frightening because even before I can get to the advice part there are two obstacles that confront me almost immediately.

[1] That marital “words of wisdom” writings almost always come across as obvious and cliché, even when they’re written by a sincere and capable writer.

And [2] the fact that it’s probably clear to everyone who has read this blog over the years that I’m not all that great at being a husband. I don’t feel like I need to go into detail on all of the ways in which I have failed at the institution of marriage, but lets just all agree to acknowledge that I am egocentric and I am selfish, and so I’ve failed in many of the ways that men who are egocentric and selfish often do.

And just like that, I actually talked myself out of writing the post. I'm not sure if I was so easily discouraged because of the writer's block, or because I genuinely realized it was a subject I couldn't handle... regardless, that's as far as I got... Seriously, aside from stuff like "don't get caught cheating", "don't become an alcoholic", and "don't hit you wife", I've got nothing.

So I've decided to move on to the next topic in hopes of finding something easier. His next suggestion was... The meaning of life...

FUCK! I can't figure how to remember to pay my cable bill on time, so I sure as shit shouldn't be counted on to tackle that subject. Besides, most of my "what does it all mean?" theories make me sound a lot like the grandfather from Little Miss Sunshine and even I'm smart enough to realize you shouldn't say things like that unless you know you're on the way out.

Next up we've got... Inner City Poverty... I'm not catching any easy breaks here am I?

Well, my stock answer is "education" but while I have the floor I'll be completely honest about the subject... The simple truth is that our country and our economic system is not set up to benefit all the people. In fact, its specifically set up to benefit one group of people at the expense of another group. There will always be people on the bottom. There will always be people who are perpetually screwed over.

From an individual perspective, all you can do is try your best and do whatever you have to do to make sure you're not the one on the bottom poeple being screwed.

From the point of view of a general society, we have a moral obligation to make being on the bottom as painless as possible... You know, put on a little lube to make it less painfull. And if you take a look around the world, this is probably one of the least painful places to be poor. There is always room for improvement, but at least we've got that lube on.

Okay... next we've got the dilemma on whether or not to support your child through sports even if you detest athletics... this is a no brainier... of course you have to! Sure, you should provide some perspective on where sports should be on the child's priority list, but anything positive your child chooses to pursue should be met with at least minimal support and encouragement. When your parent ignore you, you end being a stripper, crack head, or semi-coherent blogger.

At this point the topics start to get right into my wheelhouse... Pick a superpower. The options are: [a] invisible, [b] read people's thoughts, or [c] control people's thoughts.

Invisible has always been the most intriguing superpower to me, but there are far too many complications... have you seen that Chevy Chase movie? Are you telling me the best case scenario is getting stuck with the annoying and overrated Daryl Hannah for the rest of your life? No thanks.

Controlling people's thoughts would obviously be the easiest choice in terms of guaranteeing success... but after a year or so it would get old. You sleep with a ton of models, you convince rich people to give you their money, and then what? Where is the challenge?

Reading people's thoughts is where its at! You get that great advantage but you still have the challenge of figuring out how to make it work for you and how to really enjoy it.

Next we've got Pepsi vs Coke... From a fountain? its a tie... Bottle? I'm going Pepsi... and from a can? It has to be Coke.

Now, finally, we get to the topic I was born to speak on... Boob or Ass Man?

Now initially, the answer seems quite obvious... I think we're all quite familiar with my preoccupation with cleavage and the female breast. In fact, my ultimate fantasy in life would involve a half dozen or so well endowed women feeding me chicken nuggets covered in sweet and sour sauce while only using being allowed to use their boobs... and even though I don't have any elaborate fantasies about women's asses, I really do enjoy them immensely.

So my answer comes down to this... I've been with a couple women who's only attractive physical attribute was their boobs, and after 15 to 20 minutes of foreplay you've basically seen and done all there is to do... I've never had that issue with a woman who's best and only attractive attribute is her ass. Its a feature with considerably more sustainability. So my final answer is that even though I would prefer to judge such matters on a case by case basis, if forced to choose blindly between a nice ass or a nice set of boobs, I'm going ass.

And ladies, I know I sound like a total degenerate pig right now, but this is actually how guys really think and talk... This kind of conversation can happen in a room full of lawyers, doctors, peace corp volunteers, and probably even clergy. Its the common denominator of all straight men. If two men who have absolutely nothing in common are forced to converse they'll either end up talking about football or women's body parts... it's 100% true... and if you find yourself offended right now please remember, this was all HP's idea!

Step This Way Please

2009-10-30T09:09:00.002-04:00

So... I'm still working on the post ideas that were suggested to me, and I promise I will have something to show for it very soon. But, if you're really in a desperate need to get you some Joel (and really, who couldn't use a little more me in their life?), you can check me out on the Cadography Blog where I post on the 15th and 30th of every month.

My post today is actually the first photo essay/documentary style piece I've put together. Its not actually indicative of the kind of writing I usually do on Cadography, but cad was nice enough to let me post it anyway because she is an amazingly supportive artist and friend.

Anyway, I worked pretty hard on the piece and I'm proud of the results. It's called "Lost in Trinidad," and I would really appreciate it if you would stop by and check it out right here.

And while you're there... check out some of cad's amazing work... seriously, have I ever steered you wrong?

I Confess...

2009-10-20T13:43:00.003-04:00

It's time for a confession... But before you get your hopes up, this is not a new installment of the Confession Awards. No, its just time for me to admit to myself and to you all that I officially have writer's block. I am completely uninspired and unimaginative as writer right now.

Seriously, I have NO idea what to write about. I haven't for months. Its basically what caused my semi-annual flame out and subsequent hiatus over the summer. I have nothing to say. I used to be able to sit down at the keyboard and figure out what I wanted to say, as I was typing it. But those days are behind me now.

Fortunately, this sort of thing works in cycles and I know that, in all likelihood, I'll get my mojo back... eventually.

But here's the rub... This writer's block only seems to apply to my writing on this blog. I have no problem writing for Cadography (which I LOVE doing btw), and I have no problem writing in school, or anywhere else for that matter. But I for whatever reason, I can't write for me.

So my solution for the problem is simple... I'm going to write for you!

Here's how its going to work: You guys are going to give me topics you'd like to see me ramble on about, and then I'll narrow that list down to two or three topics for a final vote. This will accomplish 3 things. [1] I'll be able to write something worthwhile, [2] it will buy me some time to maybe get past this writer's block, and [3] I'll be able to blame YOU if the topics stink!

So anyway, ask not what this blog can do for you, but what you can do for this blog... leave your topic(s) in the comment section.

Debunking the Myth

2009-10-07T06:53:00.003-04:00

Two weeks ago in Biology Class I had to write a position paper on one of several preselected "contoversial" topics. I picked 'Flu Vaccines' not because I had any strong opinions on the subject, but because I knew it would be one of the easiest topics to research (just google "flu-shot" if you don't believe me).

I've never had the flu shot, or the flu for the matter... and to be perfectly honest, I don't give a damn if anyone else does either. I understand that its one of those polarizing topics that everyone has a strong opinion on, but despite being a rather opinionated person, I have always been surprisingly opinion-less on the subject... but I still had to write the paper.

So after doing some cursory research, I ended up writing about the myths of the flu shot and how they are all easily debunked by basic science. I cited some study from a couple years back that suggested that the misconceptions and fears of the flu shot in urban areas are exacerbated by the fact that some absurd amount of health care workers in the inner-city don't actually get the flu shot themselves and therefore aren't very insistent on their patients getting it either... blah, blah, blah...

For the most part, I believed what I was writing. The myths did seem absurd. And it did seem ridiculous that a bunch of nurses in the hood didn't want the flu shot... I won't go so far as to say I became a strong believer in the flu shot, but I certainly felt a lot more informed and could now see the myths as myths.

When the professor handed back the graded papers she gave me a conspiritorial wink and whispered, "I'm getting mine on Friday..." I replied, "I got mine yesterday!" but it was a complete lie. It just sounded like the right thing to say.

Flash forward two weeks to this morning. I still hadn't gotten a flu shot... I hadn't really even given it any thought. I got a call from my supervisor saying he needed to see me in a conference room. He was really vague about it. I thought it was a little strange but I went anyway... When I got there he was nowhere to be found. The room was empty excpet for a few boxes of donuts spread across the conference table, and a pretty nurse with a needle standing next to an empty chair.

"Oh shit," I thought... "Its the flu shot!"

I tried to turn and walk away but it was too late. The pretty nurse put her hand on my shoulder and stopped me. "You're not getting away from me so easily," she said in a flirtaious tone.

Before I could really even protest I was filling out a short questionaire as she jammed the needle into my arm. Thirty seconds later I was walking out the door with a jelly donut and a cup of orange juice, thinking:

"I just wrote a paper debunking the myths of the flu shot, and yet it still took deception, donuts, and a pretty nurse to convince me I should get one... and I'm still not even sure it was a good idea!"

Mistress Farting in Miami Area

2009-09-25T09:09:00.002-04:00

What do you think of that post title? Make any sense to you?

Me neither... but apparently it made plenty of sense to the guy in Fort Lauderdale who stopped by my blog on September 20th after typing that phrase in the Yahoo search engine.

I hope he found what he was looking for!

Do People Still do That?

2009-09-23T07:39:00.003-04:00

This morning on the subway, a mid-forties aged man in the seat ahead of me decided to pull out a copy of Penthouse magazine and started flipping pages... As if that wasn't creepy enough on its own, next, he pulled out a piece of paper started to write an erotic story!

I positioned myself so I could read what he was writing and it started out like this:

"It had been a long time since we'd seen each other, so I really wanted to make the most of the evening... You were wearing some sexy new lingerie and I couldn't help but notice-"

At that point we arrived at my stop so I wasn't able to read any further, but I have a pretty good idea about the artistic direction his story was headed... But the question that I keep finding myself asking is, what the fuck is this guy doing still buying dirty magazines and handwriting erotic stories?

I don't think I've even bought a porn magazine since the internet was invented, and I can't even imagine leaving physical paper evidence that I was writing porn!

On the one hand, if you can't stop yourself from checking out porn during your morning commute then you must be a pretty hardcore addict... but then again, the magazine, the stationary? That's pretty amateur. Even the occasional porn consumer knows that you need to either create plausible deniability ("Oh, Moe Greene must have been using my computer earlier in the week, and you know what a perv he is...") or total "Black Ops" secrecy, (Like hiding your erotic writing under unassuming file names in folders that nobody would ever open)... But if you get caught with a magazine or worse yet, an erotic story written in your handwriting, there is no explaining yourself out of that situation.

These are the basic, fundamental rules to being a man in this century... Yet somehow, this guy never adapted! Part of me felt like staging an intervention for him, but another part of me felt like I was seeing porn-Darwinism at work. Because of the internet, streaming videos, and free websites cluttering the internet, this is the golden age of porn we're living in... And if this guy can't figure it out, then maybe he doesn't deserve it?

*I found it particularly creepy/interesting that he was using work stationary to write his "story". Apparently he works at Howard University Hospital. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Check Me Out!

2009-09-21T13:28:00.003-04:00

I just wanted to give a little plug to longtime FITS reader/commentor cad, who has finally put together a website to showcase her photography and graphic arts skills... And you can find it:

->HERE<-

But, cad's site is not only about displaying her work and marketing her skills, "cadography", also includes what promises to be a really intriguing photography themed blog!

Even if you're only a photography novice, you'll be able to find all kinds of tips and tricks on how to improve your ability to take a good picture, as well as get to see a lot of beautiful images from all genres of photography... and who doesn't like looking at great pictures?

But beyond all the tips and the beautiful images, do you know what else you'll be able to find at cad's blog?

ME, bitches!

That's right Shower Farters, I figured that since I deprived you of the pleasure of my company for all these months, I'd make up for it by over-saturating the market with my inconsistent, rambling, and semi-coherent writings!

In addition to my duties here, I'm going to be posting my thoughts on photography related topics over at cad's blog on the 15th and 30th of every month... (not sure what happens on February 30th yet, but I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it).

Anyway, I'm really excited about the opportunity that cad is offering me and I'm really look forward to being able to share a different side of myself to all of you. I promise this it won't be as bad as Paris Hilton trying to sing, Mariah Carey trying to act, Charles Manson on the guitar, or George W. Bush trying to run a country... I'm going to keep it as "me" as possible (yes, I feel like a douchebag just typing that sentence)... but what I'm trying to say is, its still going to be me writing the way I always do, just less cleavage talk, less toilet humor, and more pictures... and hopefully better spelling.

In closing, I really encourage everyone to not only check out cad's galleries, but the blog as well.

...And if you decide not to check it out, not only will I be personally offended, but I might be forced to hunt you down and assault you on your own front lawn... I don't really like to travel, and I'm sure you probably don't much like being assaulted, so let's make this easy on the both of us by just going and checking out the website and the blog.

The Panhandlers

2009-09-18T09:26:00.002-04:00

The average panhandler never rises above the level of being a common nuisance. They loiter outside of convenience stores, hangout in front of sporting events, and walk up and down busy intersections during a red light. Usually, they just shake a cup and hope you’ll drop in some change. Sometimes they’ll verbalize their request, “Can you spare some change?”

But they don’t really expect or require you to respond. It’s basically a rhetorical question. You can stare straight ahead and ignore them and it doesn’t really bother them. They make you uncomfortable 2 or 3 seconds, but that’s about it. You move on with your day and forget them completely.

But then there is the confrontational panhandler… the one who picks you out of a crowd and confronts you directly. Perhaps you made the mistake of making eye-contact or fit some general description of the kind of person they deem likely to fork over some money. This panhandler will walk up to you, make eye contact, and usually give you a hard luck story. There is no, “look straight forward and ignore,” option; if you want them to go away you’re going to have to look them in the eye and say, “no”.

It’s a strategy that probably works more often than they passive aggressive change cup method. People have a hard time telling someone “no” when they’re standing in front of them. I however, have no qualms or moral dilemma saying, “no”. In fact, I almost enjoy it.

There is nothing more satisfying than pulling off your earbuds with a pained grimace on your face, (as if you were a surgeon being interrupted in the middle of an appendectomy) and then interrupting their bullshit story midsentence with a curt, “No” as you turn and walk away.

But last week I was actually thrown off my game by a confrontational panhandler… In my defense, it was five o’clock in the morning and I was trying to catch the train on my way to work. The girl who confronted me was in her mid-twenties. She wasn’t dressed in stereotypical panhandler attire. She was clean. She had a genuinely apologetic look on her face. And although her story wasn’t anything special, it felt genuine. She said her car had been towed and she was just trying to get back home to Frederick… That caught my attention because Frederick is where I grew up.

I asked her what part of Frederick, and she told me “Jefferson Street, next to McCurdy Field…” That wasn’t far from my old neighborhood in either geographical location or social status. The same rowhouse and duplex lined streets… The same rundown liquor stores… The same working class people who flash toothless smiles and are quick to offer you a story or a beer.

At that moment I felt like I knew her. Had I stood there and talked to her for a couple of minutes I’m sure I would have known some of the same people or traveled through the same schools as she had… But I didn’t stand there and talk to her.

What I did was explain to her, as sincerely as possible, that although I wanted to help her, I didn’t have any cash and I was running late for work.

I apologized profusely but the truth was, I was actually a little early and I had forty dollars in my pocket.

“That’s okay,” she responded. “I understand completely... I’ll be okay.”

She didn’t say it in a sarcastic or disappointed tone. Her tone was actually one of a reassuring nature. She really didn’t want me to walk away feeling guilty for not giving her any money… but of course, since I knew that I was lying to her that’s the exact feeling I walked away with... Guilt.

And it stayed with me for quite some time… I can’t completely explain why I didn’t help her. I knew she was telling the truth. I felt genuine sympathy for her story. And it wouldn’t have hurt me to give her ten or twenty dollars… I just didn’t do it.

------

Yesterday, Moe Greene was eating his lunch in a Burger King parking lot. A girl approached his car. She wasn’t dressed like a panhandler. She was in her mid-twenties. And she had a genuine story about how she had come from Virginia in search of work and an escape from an abusive boyfriend… but things hadn’t worked out and now she had no place to stay.

When he asked her, “What do you want from me?” she started crying.

He told her to get in the car, drove her to a motel, paid cash for a room, and then let her keep change so she could get something to eat.

It coast him sixty dollars and he ended up coming back late from his lunch break.

These girls were both in our age group… both had genuine stories… and both were asking for help. Moe had no real personal connection with his girl and her problem was both complex and more expensive… My girl grew up maybe 15 blocks from where I grew up, and could have had her problem solved with a twenty dollar bill...We both had the money to help. But only I really had the time.

And yet Moe stopped his day to help, and I just walked away.

We've All Got Needs

2009-09-14T11:34:00.004-04:00

Okay Shower Farters, this is how its going to work... We're about to have a quick, no strings attached, hot and steamy blogging session. When it's done, I'll go my way and you'll go yours. If the outcome of our little soiree is mutually satisfying, then maybe I'll stop by sometime in the near future and blog the bejesus out of you again... Perhaps I'll even leave a tooth brush in your bathroom and keep a change of clothes in the closet. You know, "just in case..."

But if I do that, please don't take it to mean that we're officially, "back together," or anything like that... It just means we both have needs and agree that it would be more convinient to fulfill those needs with each rather than trying to find someone new.

So don't go calling your family to let them know we're, "trying to work things out," because again, that's not what this is. I won't be heading home with you for the holidays. I won't be escorting you to your company Christmas party. There will be no double dates with your friends, no roses by the stairs, no romantic notes on the nightstand, and certainly snuggling in the movies.

Well... maybe we can snuggle at the movies... it does get kind of chilly in those theaters sometimes.

The Break-up (Its not You, Its me)

2009-06-22T09:48:00.005-04:00

I've been running this blog since the Fall of 2005. I'm not very good at staying committed to anything, so that was quite an accomplishment for me. Aside from, "The Dark Period," I've been pretty decent about posting regularly. The quality of the content wasn't always what it could have been, but in the middle of all the clutter and nonsense I did manage to mix in a few things I'm proud of... and I'm glad I could share that with you.

Over the years we've shared secrets, tears, and quite a few laughs... Just know that every moment was an absolute pleasure for me.

I'm going to let the words of Brandon Flowers and The Killers send me off:

Pay my respects to grace and virtue,
send my condolences to good.
Give my regards to soul and romance,
they always did the best they could.
And so long to devotion,
you taught me everything I know.

Wave goodbye.
Wish me well.
You've got to let me go.

Solve the Mystery II

2009-06-09T10:04:00.003-04:00

It starts with a dead Ivy League lawyer in the guest room of a million dollar Washington, DC home. Next you add in the the following elements:

-a "polyamourous" trio of gay professionals
-an alleged cover-up
-a botched crime scene
-elements of sadomasochism sex acts
-a squad of homicide detectives left scratching their heads

Not enough to pique your interest? How about an autopsy that revealed the victim was, "restrained, incapacitated with a mysterious injection, sexually assaulted and murdered."

For months now I've been looking for the right case to run a sequel to the, "Solve the Mystery," game we played back in May of 2008. If you recall, we spent several days debating the fate of the famous missing NYC judge, Joseph Crater... I think I've finally found a case worth of being the sequel.

I first learned about it when my beloved Washington Post ran a two-part article on the mysterious circumstances surrounding the case last week. I was immediately intrigued with the articles, but it wasn't until FITS friend and frequent commenter, Lauren, emailed me about it that I decided to make it into a "Solve the Mystery" post.

There are far too many details for me to to regurgitate here, so I'll just give a brief synopsis and provide a few links to where the full story can be read. I figure we can use the rest of the week for everyone who wants to participate to put forth their theories... and then next week we'll vote on a winner.

SYNOPSIS:

Robert Wone was a young, Washington, DC, lawyer who had just landed his dream job as legal council for Radio Free Asia. Wone, who had been happily married to his wife Katherine since 2003, was only 32 years old at the time of his murder.

He was a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania Law School, but it was a friendship he made during his undergraduate studies at the College of William & Mary that would lead to his demise. While at W&M, Wone befriended another future lawyer, Joseph Price. The two formed a lasting friendship despite the fact Price was an openly gay, upperclassman from the South, and Wone was a straight, Asian, freshman from New York. The two ended up attending different law schools, but they stayed in touch and eventually found themselves both practicing law in the Nation's Capitol.

On what would prove to be the last night of his life, Wone had gone to meet his future colleagues at Radio Free Asia, and planned on crashing at Price's million dollar home. Price lived with his domestic partner Victor (an ad-executive working for the group behind the Got Milk? campaign), and their lover Dylan, a massage therapy student with a taste for rough sex. Wone didn't get to the house until around 10:30 pm, and the four of them stayed up until talking in the kitchen until around 11pm, when Wone decided to retire to the guest room.

At 11:49, police received a 9-1-1 call from a distraught Victor, who claimed that someone had broken into the home, stabbed Wone, and escaped off into the night. Police and paramedics managed to arrive on the scene only 5 minutes later, but it was too late... Wone was pronounced dead at George Washington University Hospital at 12:24 am.

Right away police thought things looked suspicious... It seemed unlikely that an intruder would have entered the home undetected, bypassed valuables that could have easily been taken, focused in on Wone for no apparent reason, stabbed him to death, and then fled the scene without being seen. There was no motive, and much of the physical evidence didn't seem to match the residents story of how the night unfolded.

The autopsy complicated things further when it was discovered that Wone had mysterious puncture marks on his chest, neck, foot, and hand. It also appeared as though he had been smothered with a pillow at some point before he was stabbed... and the bloody knife that was found on the scene? It didn't appear to have been the knife used in the attack. Investigators thought it was planted there.

With the focus of the investigation placed squarely on the three residents of the house, all three became basically uncooperative. At one point, police appeared ready to bring murder charges against some, or perhaps all of the residents, but it never happened. As it stands now, the three of them are only facing charges of obstruction of justice and conspiracy. They're still living together, albeit in a different home.

As I mentioned before, this is just a very brief synopsis of what happened. To get all the details I suggest starting with the Washington Post stories:

Part 1
Part 2

And you may also want to check out the wikipedia page, and this site dedicated to a few amateur sleuths who have investigated the murder. Lets put a deadline of Monday morning for any theories or stories to be presented. I'll put up a poll on the sidebar for voting next week.

FILM VAULT TUESDAY - Carlito's Way

2009-06-02T07:26:00.007-04:00

So it's Tuesday and I'm supposed to have something to write today... The new apartment feels like home now but I haven't quite figured out what to do in that home... I know that statement begs for further explanation but I'm not really sure I know what I'm trying to say.

I had my iPhone stolen last Wednesday. I was sitting on the train, near the door, playing blackjack as I listened to the new Eminem album. The train stopped at Rhode Island Avenue and the perpetrator waited until the doors were about to close, snatched it from my hands, and took off running. Or at least tried to run away... I was able to grab the sleeve of his sweatshirt for a second. In that brief moment we made eye contact. I thought I had him, and so did he. He let out a rather feminine yelp before managing to twist himself free from my grasp.

I chased him for a few yards but he was really fast and of course I've got the speed of an amputee trying to break in a new prosthetic leg... So of course, he got away and I had to shell out an ungodly sum for a new iPhone.

The new one is white... I've christened it, "Benny Blanco from the Bronx," a character from one of my all time favorite movies: Carlito's Way. My first iPod was named Pachanga, also named (in-part) after a character from that movie... considering how much I love it, I was surprised to find that I had somehow never bothered to review it for Film Vault Tuesday... until now that is...

Title: Carlito's Way (1993)

Credits: Al Pacino, Sean Penn, John Leguizamo, Penelope Ann Miller, Luis Guzman, Viggo Mortensen. Directed by Brian De Palma

Why?: I think what I love most about this movie is that even though at it is essentially a very basic story at its core, the stellar cast brings so much depth to the characters that the result is a story far more complex than it might have been. It becomes a story as much about relationships, redemption, and loyalty, as it is about romance and crime.

Remote Scene Stopper: There are many scenes that I could pick here... Carlito's intro and closing monologues... The "Okay, I'm Reloaded," shoot-out scene... Any of the Benny Blanco appearances... and of course the satisfying death of Sean Penn's brilliantly layered character. But one scene that flies under the radar is the "Lalin" scene with Carlito and Viggo Mortensen.

This was way before Viggo Mortensen was an established fixture on the silver screen. At the time, he was just "some guy" who had been lucky enough to land this very small role. It's only one scene, and it lasts all of about 2 minutes... but during those two minutes, he spends the duration basically alone on screen with Al Pacino in his prime... As they go one-on-one during their interaction it becomes apparent that, improbably, not only does Mortensen hold his own with Al, but he actually steals the scene! He even throws out a flawless Nuyorican accent in both English and Spanish.

It would be another 6 years before he landed a breakthrough role, but you can see all the talent and ability present right there in his brief appearance in Carlito's Way.

Tear Factor: If you can get through Carlito's final monologue without at least feeling the tears build around your eyes then you're lacking both a soul and an appreciation for cinema at its best.

Overall: I'm of the opinion that Carlito's Way is one of the most grossly underrated movies on IMDB, which gives it a rating of only 7.8... That makes no sense to me. You have a classic story, well developed characters, two of the finest actors of a generation turning in some of the best performances of their career, a good score, and a great soundtrack.

It's been out for 16 years and yet it holds up as well today as it did in 1993. I give it a 9 without question, and would go as high as a 9.5 had it not been for Penelope Ann Miller's mediocre performance, which wouldn't even stand out so much had it not landed smack dab in the middle of such a strong cast.

*if you can find the books Carlito's Way or After Hours by Edwin Torres (the origin of the movie's plot) I can definitely recommend them. They're both very quick but memorable reads, and I've found myself going back to them both on several occasions... Unfortunately, I fear they may now be out of print. But like I said, if you can track them down they're certainly worth having in your library.

Moving Woes

2009-05-27T09:09:00.003-04:00

I spent the long weekend moving furniture. We moved to a new apartment which is located three buildings away from the old one. On the surface that sounds like it should have made for an easy move, but it actually made things worse. Because we were going somewhere so close we never bothered to pack anything, or prepare for the move at all. We didn't start taking it seriously until it was too late.

Which brings me to the next problem with moving somewhere so close... it was too close to use a car or truck, but too far to be able to comfortably carry things by hand. Think back to the last time you moved... Imagine that instead of having the moving truck parked conviniently in front of your residence, picture it parked two blocks away. Two blocks is a long way to walk with a couch on your back.

After carrying a couple of heavy pieces of furniture I found myself trying to make arguments to my wife like, "do we really need to have a dresser in the bedroom?"

To make matters worse, the good people at Comcast won't be able to show up at the new place until Friday afternoon... so I've got no cable and no internet. If it wasn't for my iPhone I think I'd be suicidal right now.

Sangria Summer

2009-05-19T09:43:00.003-04:00

Before I hand over “Joel’s Top Secret Sangria” recipe, let me start with a little background. Sangria is a homemade, alcoholic fruit drink, based mainly on red wine (although I have seen some white wine recipes). It has its origins in Spain, but almost every country and culture has its own version. I think most people reading this blog probably know what sangria is, but I just wanted to be sure before I subject you to nearly 1,000 words on the subject.

My first Sangria experience came at a party four or five years back. My wife’s best friend is married to a guy from Oaxaca. His name is Jose (no really!) and every year there is a big party to celebrate his birthday. Something notable always happens… One year it was the chapulines (fried grasshoppers) which I blogged about, one year his nephew Pechuga got into a fight and knocked over the cake, last year I had my mezcal incident (which will not be discussed), and of course there was the year Jose introduced me to his uncle’s Sangria.

He told me it was just a harmless homemade wine… I cautiously tried it. I could taste some alcohol, but it really just tasted the way he had described it… an innocent, homemade wine; a little on the sweet side, but I liked it. I ended up having seven or eight glasses in a little over an hour. I felt okay until I stood up to go to the bathroom and suddenly had no control over my balance. At first I thought my alcohol tolerance had really slipped, but then later Jose told me that his uncle’s Sangria consisted of almost 7 different liquors. The joke was on me, and the rest of the night was a blur. I loved that the drink tasted as good as a fruity mixed drink, yet I could drink it without being embarrassed or losing manhood points.

I’ve since become obsessed with trying to develop my own perfect Sangria blend. Jose’s uncle has offered to show me how he makes his version, but I always decline the invitation. I don’t want to make Jose’s uncle’s Sangria, and I want my own recipe.

Over the past few years I’ve tried nearly a dozen variations, all with different degrees of success. I’ve never been able to get something quite as good as that first sangria... It seems like mine is either sweet but not strong enough, or too strong and not sweet enough. But my experimentation has taught me one valuable lesson:

“It’s nearly impossible to screw up Sangria.”

People drink Sangria to get drunk... or at least get a strong buzz. So it's not rocket science. If you put in enough alcohol, you'll get the job done. This isn’t about relaxing with a glass of wine at dinner. This is about making people get happy and dumb. You serve it at backyard BBQ’s or summer parties that last late into the night.

You throw in a bunch of liquor. You serve it as cold as you can get it. And you keep serving it until someone falls over while trying to dance or threatens someone with a knife.

Something else I love about Sangria is the pride factor. Its something you make on your own the night before, and then you spend the entire day excited for everyone to try your Sangria. Nothing can top watching someone get progressively drunker and drunker, slurring their words, and then eventually puking off the balcony because your drink was just that good!

So anyway, this is the latest, most refined version of my Sangria… it’s always adapting and changing, and it varies based on what fruit or liquor I might have around the house. But if I was making a batch of Sangria tonight, this is how I would do it:

Ingredients

- Two bottles of Red Wine… I use Cabernet Sauvignon because it’s not too sweet. With all the fruit and sugar you’ll be adding later, you don’t need any extra sweetness. You also shouldn’t waste any money on getting a good wine. Buy the cheap stuff because you won’t be able to tell the difference.

- One bottle of light or “clear” rum. If you use dark rum you risk overwhelming the fruit.

- One bottle of light fruit flavored rum. I use Parrot Bay which comes in Pineapple, Passion Fruit, or Coconut flavor. Any of those flavors will work, but it depends on your personal taste.

- Fruit… I try to include a diced green apple, a banana or two, and a cup or so of diced strawberries... But again, be creative with it… I like to pair the Pineapple flavored rum with a small can of diced pineapples. I’ve also used lemons, limes, oranges, grapes, cherries, and even mango. Whatever you've got, dice it up and throw it in.

- One half-gallon of fruit punch.

- One cup of sugar.

Steps

[1] Dump all the diced fruit into your jug, pitcher, pot, cooler, or whatever you plan on using to prepare your Sangria.

[2] Pour in wine, stir.

[3] Pour in liquor, stir.

[4] Pour in fruit punch, stir.

[5] Stir in sugar.

[6] Chill for 24 hours.

And that’s it… some people like to add in gin, bourbon, or some other liquors, and that’s okay, but I’ve found that there isn’t much noticeable difference between the complicated recipes and the simplified ones.

Let me say again, you really can’t screw this up… So, don’t be afraid to try different things. As long as you have the wine and the fruit, swapping different types of liquors won’t hurt. Figure out what you like, keep it cold, and enjoy!

Unleashing the Beast

2009-05-15T10:32:00.005-04:00

Here's why I know I'll always be fat... I simply love eating too much to do it at a reasonable level. When I really want something I throw out all rational thought, basic reasoning, and decision making ability... Whether we're talking about food, sexual attraction, or consumer goods, my basic train of thought goes like this: "I want it... I need it... I must have it... I will do whatever I have to do to get it..."

I skipped lunch yesterday... I was planning on having a large meal that night to critique for my weekly LFFL review, so I put off eating in order to wet my appetite. As it turns out, that was a bad idea.

Everything went as planned until about 5 pm. That's when I went out to purchase the meal I was supposed to review. I had already set up the area I planned on using to photograph the food; I even laid out paper and a pen on a nearby table so I could take notes as I ate... but somewhere in between getting the food in my car and getting home, I lost control of myself.

As soon as the enticing aroma of the food met up with my neglected appetite, it was already too late. I devoured the food right there in the car, before I was even halfway home. I forgot about the pictures, the notes, the entire review process! I wasn't human, I was an animal.

So there is no LFFL this week... but next week should be pretty easy. My sangria post is basically ready to go, and luckily, I haven't forgotten the details of the sandwich I basically date-raped on the way home last night... so it should just be a matter of taking a couple of pictures to complete that review. I'll just have to keep in mind what an impulissive pig I am as I plan out my review day next week.

For Your Troubles...

2009-05-13T11:46:00.005-04:00

I meant to write a post yesterday... I've been planning on posting some tips for making sangria along with my personal recipe, but I keep forgetting to bring the recipe with me when I leave the house in the morning.

So anyway, I appologize for that and I'm 90% sure I'll be posting a LFFL review for tomorrow. But for now I thought I'd leave you all with this consultation picture since I have no real post to give:

I've found that clevage is the best form of apology.

Life in the Fast (food) Lane

2009-05-07T08:54:00.003-04:00

I could write a 5,000 word post about all bad things McDonald's does. They screw up your order, their employees have a bad attitude, the burgers never seem to come out right, the bathrooms are disgusting, they made America fat, etc... but the truth of the matter is, its really easy to attack someone on top... People could make many of the same complaints about Taco Bell, Wendy's, or any other fast food chain, but they never do. Why? Because they're not on top.

Co-workers don't turn a long lunch break into an hour and half bitch session about the guy in the mail department... they bitch about their boss... Comedians don't base an entire set around the incompetence of a city council member, they joke about the shortcomings of the president... It's the same with fast food... We spend so much time blaming the evils of fast food and globalization on McDonald's, that we tend to ignore or forget all the good stuff.

But if you've got the munchies at 4 am on a Tuesday night, who are you gonna turn to? If you're on a road trip with 5 different people who can't agree on anything, where are you gonna stop for lunch? If your kid is hungry and full of energy but you've only got an hour to spare, where are you gonna take them? If you find yourself hungry and driving through an unfamiliar area, who's sign are you looking for off in the distance? Need a neutral location to make the weekend kid exchange with your evil ex-wife... guess who's there for you?

Or how about when you're really hungry but only have $5 in your pocket? Where are you gonna eat lunch?

Its with that last question in mind that I have put together my latest, "Life in the Fast (food) Lane," entry. Of course, the best way to stretch your fast food dollar is, obviously, the dollar menu. And who invented the dollar menu? McDonald's of course... That evil corporation!

They created the dollar menu in 2002 and have basically re-revolutionized the world of fast food, something they have done many times over. They have the best idea, and they have them way before anyone else. It's why they're #1.

Now, every national fast food chain has their own version of the dollar menu, to varying degrees of success. Some items are better than others, but after 7 years, McD's still offers the best top-to-bottom dollar menu options.

Currently, the dollar menu looks something like this:

Double Cheeseburger (actually it's been replaced by the McDouble which is the same sandwich with one slice of cheese instead of two?)

McChicken Sandwich

Four Piece Nuggets

Small Fries

Two Apple Pies

Sweet Tea

Small Soda

Bottled Water

Hot Fudge Sunday

Fruit and Yogurt Parfait

Some Salad Thing

Sure, there are dollar menus out there that might have one or two items that compare favorably, but unless you've got the time and energy to swing by multiple fast-food locations in one lunch break, you can't find a better total menu to build your meal.

For me, the best combination is simple... 2 McChickens, 1 Four-Piece Nugget, 1 Sweet Tea.

The key here is asking for Big-Mac sauce on the McChicken sandwiches. The normal McChicken is good, but when you add on the Mac sauce you push things to another level.... we're talking greatness.

When I was first told me about adding Mac sauce, I was skeptical. First of all, I hate being the guy who has to add something special to his order... If you're in the passenger seat while I'm navigating the drive-thru and you tell me something like "I was the #4 but with no mayo and I want extra pickles," I'll either flat out ignore you or tell you to go inside and order it. I feel like such an asshole asking for something speical. The second reservation I had about the Mac sauce addition was the general incompetent of the McDonald's employee. Adding any degree of difficulty to the order process is a dangerous thing.

But surprisingly, when you ask for Mac sauce on your sandwich, there is no, "you want to do what?" reaction... Apparently people do it all the time. I've never had a problem getting it added on, and they usually don't even charge me extra. Sometimes they'll throw in a $0.20 extra charge, but usually, it's free. So go ahead and give it a try. I can't recommend it enough. You'll thank me later.

As for the nuggets... I'm an addict. That's my favorite item on their menu, has been since I was a kid. As good as the fries are, if you give me the option of taking the nuggets I'll take them every time. I have no issue with anyone who prefers the fries, I'm just not capable of saying no to chicken nuggets. I usually go with "hot mustard" sauce but occasionally like to mix in "sweet 'n sour," I feel like changing things up.

I feel the same about the sweet tea as I do about the nuggets... It's my favorite drink option on the menu, so making it available for a buck is a no brainer for me. I've told the story before, but I basically lived with Moe Greene every summer from the ages of 10-17. His mom's sweet tea tastes exactly like the tea from McDonald's. Taking a sip is like being transported back to my childhood. The only issue with the tea is that they often put in too much or not enough ice, and ice is a pretty important variable in sweet tea.

I bought my meal yesterday from the McDoanld's at the intersection of New Hampshire Ave and Randolph Rd in Silver Spring, MD. My usual McDonald's is on Georgia Ave right next to the Glenmont Metro stop, but lets just say there was an "incident" there and I'm now in the market for a new "go-to" McDonald's... The one I bought this meal from is close by and on my way home, but the intersection is really complicated. Getting to their drive-thru requires passing the restaurnat by about a half mile and then making an awkward u-turn. Good service, but that u-turn is a pain in the ass, so my search will have to continue.

As always, the meal was flawless... it's really hard to screw up dollar menu orders, and that Mac sauce really does add a whole new dimention to the McChicken.

Overall, I give the meal a 9/10 rating. The food is good quality for fast food, you won't walk away from the table hungry, and you can get it all for under $5. What more can you ask for? This is why McDonald's will always be the king!

The Journal of a Pig

2009-05-06T11:40:00.006-04:00

The ear buds for my iPhone crapped out last week. I think it had something to do with listening to a lot of podcasts and audiobooks at high levels to drown the sound of the subway. Regardless, they're no longer functional and with school, work, and jury duty getting in the way of everything, I haven't been able to purchase a new pair yet.

That means I've had nothing to listen to during my commute to and from work. I find that if I read an actual book on the subway I tend to space out and miss my stop. I'm not much of a magazine guy either, so I've been trying my best to make do with my Blackjack and Sudoku on my phone but there is only so much of that I can take before I get bored... So this morning, I decided to break out my trusty journal.

If you recall, I went on exhaustive internet search to find the right journal for me. I finally settled on the moleskine.

Anyway, it has served me faithfully since October of 2007. It's been dropped, stepped on, lost on at least one occasion that I can recall, been the victim of a devastating milk incident, and even been used as a weapon of mass destruction against the occasional insect intruder... it contains everything thing from sangria recipes to my experiences from El Salvador and Honduras.

As much as I love my journal, I tend to neglect it for weeks (sometimes even months) at a time. But the benefit to that neglect is that when come back to it and flip through the pages, I find entries that I only have a vague recollection of writing. It's a little like bumping into a long forgotten acquaintance.

This morning was no exception. I found two very similar entries written in January of this year. They were both written while on the subway, and both do a very good job of showing what sexist pigs men really are... or at least what a pig I really am.

The first one was about how I found myself sitting next to a crazy woman on the metro. She was praying out loud to Jesus, asking him to forgive her for using his name in vain. This went on for several stops. At one point she actually began to argue with either Jesus or herself that what she had done wasn't technically a sin because she had only thought the sinful utterance but not actually verbalized it.

Apparently she ended up getting off at the same stop as me and I found myself walking behind her. Once we got onto the escalator, she got into some sort of confrontation with an innocent bystander. The woman was obviously insane and probably dangerous... What was the grand conclusion I came to at the end of the that event?

I wrote: "for a crazy subway woman, she had a surprisingly nice ass..."

The second story --written just two days later-- had me sitting near a Muslim woman in a full burqa... The kind where all you can see is the eyes... The woman got a call on her cell phone and decided to put the phone inside the burqa so she could take the call. During the process of putting the phone in the burqa, 75% of her face became visible to me for a half-second.

What did I write about? Was it the about the injustice of men misconstruing religious material to oppress women and force them to cover their faces from the world? Was it about the uncomfortable reaction of other passengers to sitting near a fundamentalist Muslim on mass transportation? Was it about the startling contrast of old-world values and new-age technology? Nope... all I wrote was: "she was actually pretty hot under that burqa. It's probably a good thing she's wearing it or I might have tried to hit on her..."

Yep... I actually wrote those words down on paper.

Anyway, be sure and stop by tomorrow for the latest, "Life in the Fast (food) Lane," when I build my favorite dollar menu lunch combination.

Drinking the Kool-Aid

2009-05-01T06:42:00.011-04:00

I know you're all probably wondering where I've been all week... There's been no "Life in the Fast (Food) Lane" update, no "Film Vault Tuesday," no posting at all actually.

You look back over the past few weeks and probably assume I've been busy with school and thus a little neglectful with FITS... it's a logical conclusion and so I couldn't blame you for making that assumption. But of course the truth of the matter is, this is what I've actually been doing over the last few weeks:

That's right, I've been off tending to the needs of African babies again... so before you go making asses of people with your wild assumptions, just know that I was off doing god's work. I'm basically Mother Teresa, only hung like a donkey... well, hung like a donkey in comparison to Mother Teresa at least.

But I must admit, I wasn't only there to touch lives, pass out shoes, give medical advice, and provide villages with access to clean water supplies... I was also out scouting locations for a future cult compound!

I've been reading a lot lately about Jim Jones... no, not the Harlem rapper...

...but the former cult leader who led his followers to Guyana. Once there, they established "Jonestown," and lived a peaceful life of tranquility as they built a community and searched for inner peace... and oh yeah, there was that little mass suicide thing too...

Anyway, I've decided that what this blog is really missing is a cult... not just a "cult following", but an actual cult where people would be forced to read everything I write or potentially face the wrath of god. Nothing like the threat of eternity in hell to provide proper motivation.

In my research of cults and cult leaders, I've come across several discoveries along the way that I think will help us avoid some of the mistakes past cults have made. I've narrowed the list down to three keys for running a cult:

1] No government interference... If the Waco incident taught us anything (you know, aside from 'you probably shouldn't refuse to let the ATF follow through on a search warrant', 'it's a bad idea to shoot federal agents', and 'never engage in a gun battle when your compound is full of flammables and explosives') its that you can't build your compound in US territory. The government is always going to be stopping by, wanting to make sure you aren't stockpiling guns for a revolution, or holding people against their will... they're real pesky like that.

So Jim Jones was on the right track by leaving the country... but he screwed up when he invited the US Congressman down to check things out. You invite a politician down and next thing you know he's talking a handful of your followers into going back home with him, and you're left with no choice but to have them all whacked.

So again, anytime the government gets involved in your cult, things tend to get messy.

2] Have a really good pair of tinted glasses. Not sun glasses, but prescription glasses that you have tinted. Like:

You can't be a cult leader unless you own extravagant eye wear.

3] Leave the kids alone... and this is the biggest point of my research. Just about every successful cult leader follows a similar path... They start off by letting their followers know that they're in regular contact with god. God doesn't just send them a sign, or leave subtle hints; god actually talks to them... Next they tell their people that the reason god is in such frequent contact with them, is because they are, in fact, the son of god. It makes sense. Do you think god would be spending so much time with someone who wasn't related to them? He's a busy dude...

Finally, once they've been able to convince everyone that they speak with god, and that god is their father, it's finally time to "spread god's seed..." Before anyone can even muster a protest they've knocked up all the attractive single cult members and half the married ones! They always do this.

Some people might say that the cult leader is pressing his luck or perhaps gone too far at this point... but I disagree... What's the point of having an entire congregation of followers if all you're not going to take advantage of them sexually? Any dime-a-dozen TV evangelist can talk lonely women into handing over their savings, but only the truly gifted can get them to drop their panties!

Where the cult leader goes too far is when they start "deflowering" virgins... I just don't get that... with all the willing, adult recipients of "god's seed" that you've got to choose from on the compound, do you really need to go for the kids too? That's what took down David Koresh, Warren Jeff, and Jim Jones... you start making moves on the 15 year old's and people get all up in arms. Next thing you know you've got congressman making official inquires, and law enforcement planning raids. At that point the party is over and you've gotta start mixing the cyanide or lighting fires... And that's not how I want to go out...

The risk vs reward factor is just not there.

So those are my keys to a successful cult... And I promise, in the "Farting in the Shower" cult compound we'll have no alarm clocks or early wake up calls... nobody will have to dress up or wear uncomfortable shoes... nobody will have to pull kitchen or garden duty for more than a week at a time... we'll have movie night at least once a week... there will be no kid touching... I'll only spend a little of your money on hookers and drugs... I'll wear the kick ass cult leader glasses... I'll find a nice warm tropical location... of course, I'll update the blog everyday... and my Kool-Aid will never contain a lethal amount of cyanide!

Life in the Fast (food) Lane

2009-04-23T08:32:00.003-04:00

As promised, yesterday Moe Greene and I coordinated a tag team review of the Wendy's Baconator. This was special for a few of reasons; first, all the reviews so far have come from one source, me, so having someone not named Joel to give an opinion is new*; secondly, this is the first review item that originated from the "Review Request" box (head nod to Eric, and yes, I'll eventually get to the other requests); and finally, this is the closest Moe and I can get to having lunch together now that we live an hour apart from each other. It's nice to recreate the old fast food lunch magic... You see, way before I ever thought of writing the LFFL column, even before I had a blog... Moe and I were, essentially, fast food critics; we just didn't know it. We didn't have an audience or a platform to share our thoughts, but that didn't stop up from having conversations like:

"I really prefer the McDonald's parking lot on Jefferson Street as opposed to the one on Rt. 40 because they have trees in their lot that provide shade to park in. The only downside is, the lot is smaller so sometimes you have to park near other people who are also eating lunch in their car and that's awkward."

or

"I would really prefer the whole Burger King experience a whole lot more if they used bigger cubes of ice. The BK ice is small so it melts faster and then the coke gets all watery; plus the straws are thinner..."

The fact that we now actually have a small but loyal group of people who are willing to read our critiques is great... but to be totally honest, even if you weren't reading we would probably still be having the same conversations.

Now having said that... please, keep reading, and we hope you enjoy the first tag-team review.

Wendy's Baconator

From the Wendy's website, "Six strips of hickory smoked bacon piled high atop two 1/4 lb. patties of fresh, never frozen, beef. Complete with two slices of American cheese, mayo and ketchup..."

Right away we've got an issue... Moe's sandwich only had 3 strips bacon. He says now that there may have been 3 thin strips placed perfectly atop 3 other thin strips, but if he couldn't tell then the entire intent of the "Baconator" has already fallen short of it's goal to overload your taste buds with bacon.

For what it's worth, mine definitely had 6 strips... I'm not sure if that qualifies as "piled high" or not, because I'm not really sure what "piled high" means in the first place... I just know that there was a lot of bacon.

Location: Moe ate his food at the Wendy's on West Patrick Street in Frederick, MD, which is inconveniently located right next to an Arby's... I say inconvenient because I can think of at least a half-dozen occasions where I drove there with the intention of eating at Wendy's, only to see Arby's and change my plans.

As for me, I picked up my burger at the Wendy's in the Briggs Chany Shopping Center in Silver Spring, MD. That's my "go-to" Wendy's because [a] it's close to home and [b] they're as quick and direct as a veteran stripper giving her 13th lap dance on a Friday night... A little eye contact, some boobs to your face, a knee rubbing your crotch, a nibble of the ear lobe, and the job is done.
Service: Excellent as always... we both flew threw our respective drive-thru's. Moe was actually on the phone with me during my order, trying his best to throw me off and make the process difficult. But I still had my food in under 2 minutes.

I don't know what Wendy's does differently than every other fast food chain in the world, but somehow they're almost always quick and accurate. Sometimes when you're at a really shaky McDonald's they'll nervously hand you that open bag of food and you can tell right away that even they aren't sure they got the order right! It's almost as if they want you to check the bag for them because they clearly have no clue..

The guy at the drive-thru window for me yesterday handed me the bag of food already folded shut. He had strong facial features, an almost cocky grin, and was basically daring me to double check his work. I wanted no parts of him. He was like a brutal and efficient SS Stormtrooper.**

As for Moe, he described his service with words like, "clear", "precise", "courteous", and "prompt." That's an awful lot of praise coming from Moe considering he has a long history of being abusive to restaurant workers, puppies, and small children (although to be fair, those last charges were eventually dropped).

Meal Review: The picture above is of my burger... and as you can see, it was overflowing with both bacon and burger. Let me say first that although I really love bacon, I'm almost always disappointed with it in the fast food setting. It tends to be either too thin to make an impact on the taste and texture of the sandwich, or has been sitting around so long that it has a consistency of beef jerky... I was pleased to find that this was not the case with my Baconator bacon... It wasn't quite as thick as I would have liked, but it was by no means thin. It wasn't too chewy, or too crispy. They got it right.

I also like the fact that they didn't try to add any unnecessary ingredients to the formula. Wendy's often times throws on a mountain of lettuce to the point where you have to open the sandwich up and pick off half of what they just piled on... But no need for that here; they keep it simple with mayo, cheese, bacon, and burger. I wouldn't have minded a slice of tomato thrown into the mix, but I certainly couldn't say it "needed" it.

The fires were crap, but we've already established my dislike for their fries in past reviews.

Here's what Moe had to say about his meal:

"The sandwich was quite large. It's quoted on the board as a 1/2 pounder. Featured three slices of bacon with ketchup and mayonnaise. Not too much of either condiment. No pickles, no lettuce. That's a good thing. The bacon was standard fast food bacon; flat, chewy, and cold. The nice thing is that the bacon wasn't too big for the sandwich. The burgers themselves are large. The first 3/4 of the sandwich I really liked. However, with every Wendy's burger I eat, I just get sick of it by the end. It's just TOO much of one thing."

"It's closest competitor/comparable would be the #11 at Burger King which is a double cheeseburger with bacon, cheddar, and some sort of sauce, I think. I prefer that sandwich over this one. It's smaller, but tastes better."

For what it's worth, he happens to like their fries but says the ones he got yesterday were a little on the cold side.

Cost: Somehow my meal came out to $7.93 whereas Moe only had to pay $7.83. We both ordered the Baconator meal with a large fry and large coke. We were in different counties but I'm pretty sure the sales tax is the same everywhere in Maryland.

Nearly $8 is a lot to pay for a single meal with no dollar menu upgrades (especially when the fries are such an inferior product), but you do get a lot of burger. We were both of the opinion however, that the price is a tad bit too much... nothing egregious, just a little pricey.

Obesity Breakdown: The figures here were pretty staggering. The burger contains 830 calories and 51 grams of fat... The fries come in at 550/26... throw in another 270 calories for the coke and suddenly we're looking at a grand total of 1650 calories and 77 grams of fat!

How much time did we take off our lives with that meal yesterday? Two, three weeks? A month?

Summary: I enjoyed my sandwich more than Moe did. I love that he complains that he always struggles to get down the final 1/4 of his burgers but never considers ordering a medium. He gave it a 7/10...

As for me, I enjoyed every bite of the burger but I only ate half the fries. And to be honest, I left plenty of Coke in my large cup. It would probably make a lot of sense for both of us to go with the medium next time. And yes, I can see myself ordering the Baconator again.

*Did Joel just use his name in the 3rd person? Yes, Joel did...

**I'm sure Wendy's would love to know that I've referred to them as both a veteran stripper and Nazi soldiers in the same post... But, I meant it in a good way!

My Bad...

2009-04-20T10:41:00.003-04:00

I completely dropped the ball last week... It became apparent on Wednesday night that I probably wouldn't be able to put together a "Life in the Fast (food) Lane" review for the week. I decided that I would instead post a quick story on Thursday or Friday so I could at least have something of substance to show for the week; but that didn't happen either.

I suppose I could make the argument that I made a conscious decision not to post an update rather than sacrifice the artistic integrity of the blog with a lazy, hastily written mess of words... But that argument probably wouldn't work because [a] we have several years of evidence to prove I'm not above doing that, [2] even I would have a hard time keeping a straight face while using phrases like, "artistic integrity," while discussing a blog called "Farting in the Shower", and [d] I'm the same guy who once posted a picture of some girl's cleavage simply because I didn't have anything better to write about.

So clearly, had I really been thinking about you, the FITS reader, I would have come up with another cleavage picture at the very least. (God knows I have plenty of those pictures hidden on my hard drive)

So basically, I have no excuses. All I can do is apologize and promise to make it up to you this week with a special "tag team" LFFL review, followed at some point by a lazy, hastily written mess of words at the end of the week.

Life in the Fast (food) Lane

2009-04-10T06:44:00.004-04:00

Last week I made a life altering discovery... It was Thursday night. My Photo-Journalism class let out a little early and I found myself looking for a bite to eat. Burger King was on my way home so that's where I went.

Whenever I find myself at Burger King, my "go-to" sandwich is the Chicken Club. I'm not really a fan of the BK fries so I usually go with the onion rings instead. That's what I was planning on doing last Thursday when I noticed a new option on the sideorder menu: "Cheesy-Tots".

I love Tater-Tots. I love Cheese. It was a match made in heaven. I ordered my meal, it was ready in minutes, and it was exactly as I had hoped... Cheesy-Tots were invented for me.

When I got into bed that night, I was still savoring each tasty morsel of potato covered cheese.

I thought about writing about them the next day, but I had just written my LFFL for the Wendy's fish fillet that same day, so the Cheesy-Tots would have to wait...

But the wait is finally over. Cheesy-Tot Day is upon us!

Burger King's Chicken Club Sandwich, Cheesy-Tots, Large Coke

Normally this would be where I give you the official description of what I ordered straight from the restaurant's website. But the BK website is an absolute nightmare to navigate. In fact, according to their menu, my sandwich doesn't even exist and Cheesy-Tots are something you order for breakfast.

Location: I'd like to send a big F-U to the people of Burger King #13488, on Viers Mill Road in Silver Spring, MD! You took a simple, pleasurable experience that I had been looking forward to all week long and turned it into an absolute nightmare... Keep up the good work guys! If there is any justice in this world your daughters will all grow up to be Las Vegas strippers that give hand-jobs for an extra $10, and your sons will all be paste eaters with a low sperm count and double digit IQ.

When I got off the Metro in Glenmont yesterday, I didn't feel like driving all the way to the BK next to UMD, where I had my initial experience. A quick search on my iPhone showed there was a BK just a short drive from where I had parked. I made the trip enthusiastically. Thoughts of Cheesy-Tots were dancing in my head and I was completely unaware of horror that awaited me.

As soon as I pulled up to the drive-thru menu I got a bad feeling. The volume on the speaker was barely audible, and before I could even think about making my order, I was hit with a sales pitch for their spicy chicken combo meal. I hate when drive-thru people do this. What was wrong with the normal "Welcome to Burger King" greeting? I don't need you to suggest anything to me.
After I politely declined the Spicy Chicken sandwich combo I attempted to order my meal, substituting cheesy-tots for the fries. But I was told that they couldn't do that; you could only get cheesy-tots as a separate order.

I tried explaining that the BK on University Boulevard has no problem making that swap, and that in fact, there was a picture on their own drive-thru menu showing that you could order fries, onions rings, or a coke... but it was to no avail. If wanted the tots, I would have to take their shitty fries and still pay extra for the tots... I was willing to do that. In the end I ended up paying nearly $10 for a meal that should have cost $7.

I can't give an exact total, because the moron at the second window told me he needed the receipt back so he could figure out how to fill my order! I guess they don't keep records very well at the Viers Mill Road Burger King... and amazingly enough, even though the guy had my receipt in his hands as he filled my order, he still managed to forget my cheesy-tots!

Luckily, the service was so bad from the start that I was expecting just such an error. I made sure I did a thorough bag inspection before pulling away. Not surprisingly, the kid had the nerve to actually roll his eyes in annoyance when I pointed out his error. But I wasn't about to leave with out those tots, dirty looks be damned.

As you can probably guess, if I ever go back to Burger King #13488 it will probably be to slash tires and smear feces all over their bathroom walls.

Service: (see above)

Meal Review: For as bad as the service was, the food was actually pretty damn good. The Chicken Club Sandwich comes on a sesame seed sub roll, with a decent sized chicken fillet, fresh tomatoes, lettuce, mayo, and a couple strips of bacon. They don't go overboard with the mayo or lettuce, and the bacon is about as fresh as you can expect to find from a fast food place. It's a sandwich that I find both filling and tasty. They almost always get it right. It's a safe pick.

The tots were, of course, fabulous... potatoes and cheese were simply meant to go together. Luckily, the only necessary step to prepare them is dropping them into a deep fryer for a couple of minutes, otherwise the knuckle dragging, mouth breathers over at BK#13488 would have surely figured out a way to screw it up.

Cost: Like I said, I think I paid close to $10 but I'll never know because they took my receipt back in order to incorrectly fill my order... seriously folks, if you can't handle a Burger King drive-thru, you ought to just quit on life right now. Things are going to get way more complicated than, "Chicken Club Sandwich, Fries, Cheesy-Tots, and a Coke."

Obesity Breakdown: 1350 Calories, 63 grams of fat... but that's not accurate since the Chicken Club doesn't exist according to the BK online menu.

Summary: If you're a fan of cheese, and you're a fan of tater tots, this will be quite an experience for you... so long as you don't try to order it from Burger King #13488 on Viers Mill Rd. I highly reccomend both the tots and the sandwich. 9/10.

A Taste of Baltimore

2009-04-08T07:13:00.005-04:00

As you all know, I'm a Washington Nationals fan... it's not easy to remain loyal to one of the worst franchises in sports, but I do it. Baseball has always been my passion and after waiting the first 25 years of my life for baseball to return to the district, I'm not about to bail out just because the team sucks. Besides... the only local alternative we have is the Baltimore Orioles. A team just as dysfunctional and laughable as my Nationals.

Many of my friends and family are Orioles fans actually, and they still have one of the best two or 3 ballparks in baseball, so I find myself making the half hour drive up I-95 a couple times a year to take in one of their games.

That's what I found myself doing on Monday actually... it was opening day for the O's, and my Nationals were starting the season on the road in Florida. A couple of friends from work got hooked up with 3 really great seats about 10 rows behind home plate. I've never sat in seats like that so I could hardly turn down their offer.

As luck would have it, after Vice President Biden threw out the ceremonial first pitch he ended up sitting in our section. Even though I work on Capitol Hill and occasionally encounter famous politicians, it was still pretty surreal to have the VP sitting 10 rows directly in front of me. I couldn't stop watching him the entire time he was there.

Biden hung around for the first 2 innings before leaving. While he was there he signed every autograph, shook every hand, and posed for every picture he could. Secret Service and stadium ushers offered to keep fans at bay, but he didn't seem that bothered by them.

Anyway, before he left, he got a real glimpse at Baltimore, and true Oriole fans.

There was a mid-twenties couple sitting two rows ahead of me, which put them a mere 8 rows behind the VP. They were true Baltimore people, accents and all. Straight out of "The Wire". If you're not familiar with the area, just picture the people of South Boston only with a different accent... They're not from "Baltimore, Maryland," they're from "Bawl'mer, Murlan," they don't root for the "Orioles," they root for the "Oh-Ree-Ohs", and they love to call people "hun", which is short for "honey".

Don't get me wrong here, I'm not looking down on the accent, in fact, a lot of people in my hometown of Frederick, MD, have a variation of the accent. I sometimes catch myself occasionally saying something with a slight accent, although not as often as Moe Greene.

Anyway, so there is the Bawl'mer couple sitting two rows ahead of me, 8 rows behind Joe Biden. Orioles heart throb Brian Roberts is warming up in the on-deck circle, and the girl, who despite the pancake make-up, nose ring, and "Joey" tattoo on her wrist, was actually somewhat attractive. She stood up from her seat and began to yell out, "Brian Roberts, I love you, I want to kiss you!"

Roberts was only a few feet away from us so he probably heard the girl begging for a kiss. I'm sure he hears that kind of thing at every home game so he was unphased and continued on with his routine. Joe Biden was even closer to the girl than Roberts was so he definitley heard her.

The girl called out a couple more times before finally sitting down in frustration... At this point her boyfriend stood up (not sure if he was the famous 'Joey' from the tattoo on her wrist ) cups his hands around his mouth, and yells out as loud as he can, "Hey Brian, my girlfriend wants to kiss you where you pee!"

Eveything went silent... Heads started to turn around to see who made the comment. Rich old ladies looked disgusted. A Secret Service agent stood up to get a peak at what was going on. An usher came over and gave the guy a stern warning about proper ettiqute.

For his part, the guy wasn't the least bit embarrased. He looked legitimatly confused that it had been such a big deal. As he sat down, I heard him say to his girlfriend, "I guess it's a good thing I didn't yell that you wanted to give him a b.j."

Welcome to Baltimore Vice President Biden!

The game ended up being pretty eventful. The "Oh-ree-Ohs" were beating up on the Yankees, then the Yankess made a bit of comeback, before the only Oriole player I actually like, Cesar Izturis, put the game away with a two-run homerun in the 8th.

It's not often that the Orioles get a notable win against the Yankees, so O's fans were quick to celebrate. You can probably guess which O's fan was leading the "Yankees Suck" chant in our section!

The First Amendment Gets Double Penetrated

2009-04-06T11:22:00.003-04:00

Last Thursday a friend, FITS reader, and University of Maryland alum, E-Rich, sent out an email to our circle of friends linking to an article reporting UMD's plans to show the high budget porn production, Pirates II, at a student theatre on the campus.

I read the article, saw that it was being screened under the context of, “[providing] students with an alternative to late-night drinking and other dangerous activities,” and that Planned Parenthood would be making a presentation about safe sex prior to the movie.

My initial thoughts were: [a] I’d much rather watch porn on my laptop, alone, than in a theatre full of people, but that [b] it might be a good way to get students who otherwise might not be willing to sit through a safe sex talk to sit through one. And finally, [c] why was there even a smidgen of controversy about this? The vast majority of college students are over 18, nobody is being forced to watch it, and in the age of the internet porn has become mainstream.

It was a semi-interesting topic but nobody who got the email had any emotional responses to the prospect of the movie aside from, it might be “awkward,” and, “go Terps!”

We just kind of shrugged our shoulders and said, “whatever…”

Then, on the very same day I got the email from E-Rich, a republican State Senator actually introduced an amendment to a bill in the Maryland General Assembly that would have cut all funding to state schools that screened x-rated material, unless it was part of an academic course… Worse yet, it looked like the amendment might even pass!

The university --in an attempt to avoid a showdown-- canceled the screening, and the issue was eventually dropped. No movie, no vote.

I was actually on campus for a class that night and the general consensus was one of frustration that the General Assembly was wasting time and tax payer money on such an insignificant issue… But at the same time, we didn’t think it was an issue worth potentially losing funding over. It sucked, but the school had done the only thing they could do. The question they had to ask themselves was, “Is it really worth losing nearly a half billion dollars over a pornographic spoof of the Pirates of the Caribbean?”

Once again, I put the issue behind me… until I checked my email this morning that is. Cindylu was kind enough to direct me to an article from the Washington Post reporting that angry students were planning on showing the movie anyway. They plan on showing it tonight… And of course, the same douchebag senator is once again making threats of cutting off the money if the university doesn’t block the students from showing the movie.

So now we’re on the cusp of a showdown… my guess is that the university will stop students from showing the movie, and I understand their point of view. It’s just now worth risking so much just to prove a point, especially when basically everyone with a decent grasp on common sense already agrees with them.

But then I ran across this quote from the president of the senate (who by the way, was in favor of the bill) in the UMD Student Newspaper, The Diamondback: "Yes, the amendment was overkill, but at the same time, it would have passed because it forced legislators to either vote for hardcore pornography or university funding."

Translation: I know it was a waste of time, I know it doesn’t make much sense, but we all would have voted for it anyway because we’re spineless and don’t want the allegation one day made in an election campaign that we sort of, kind of, half-way supported pornography. So fuck the First Amendment, we have to worry about getting reelected!

Like I said, if the University of Maryland decides to somehow prevent the students from screening the movie, I’ll understand… But part of me wishes they would call the bluff of all these self righteous, publicity seeking assholes and show the damn movie. Are those State Senators really willing to risk being known as the guys who cut funding to the crown jewel of the state’s education system because they were afraid some kids might see people having sex?

And in case you’re wondering, in 2005 when the same student theater screened the legendary x-rated classic “Deep Throat,” the State Assembly had nothing to say about it.

Life in the Fast (food) Lane

2009-04-02T10:48:00.003-04:00

I have to start off this latest LFFL by telling you all what an awful human being Moe Greene is… He promised everyone he would be putting up his first review on Tuesday. As you may have noticed, Tuesday has come and gone… still no sign of Moe.

I suppose he’s got a bunch of excuses about how he’s the father of 3 young kids, works two jobs, helps coach softball, and blah blah blah… but the bottom line is, Moe let us all down.

If you ask me, those kids need to start fending for themselves. The sooner they realize that they’re alone in this world and that they can’t rely on other people, the better off they’ll be. As far as I’m concerned, Moe should just leave them alone in the house for a couple of weeks and let them figure shit out on their own.

I’m not saying he should be cruel about it… Maybe he could leave some ramen noodles, toilet paper, and bottled water to help their chances at surviving, but that's about as far as he should go. If they make it… Great… And if not… well that's just Darwinism at work.

The bottom line is, he needs to get back to taking care of things that are really important, like making our blog better and talking to me on the phone about baseball and video games.

Maybe one day he’ll step up and start being the decent friend and blogger we all deserve. But until then, you’ll just have to be satisfied with my review:

Wendy's Premium Fish Fillet Sandwich, Large Fries, Large Coke

Wendy’s describes their newest sandwich thusly, “Hand-cut fillets of North Pacific cod in a crisp Panko crumb breading, served with crisp lettuce and creamy tartar sauce on a warm bun...”

I'm not sure what the hell "Panko" is, but I'd say that is a good assessment. They've been pushing this new fish fillet and the Baconator (which will be reviewed soon) pretty hard over the last few weeks. In the radio ads I’ve heard them make a big deal about this sandwich being “cod”, and how “other fish fillets" are just generic mystery fish. That’s clearly directed towards McDonald’s who make the gold standard as far as the fish fillet is concerned. Burger King does make a pretty decent fillet, but it’s not something they really try to market.

Since this sandwich is being promoted as a better alternative to the McDoanld’s fillet, that’s what I’ll be comparing it to.

Location: I picked it up at the Wendy’s in the Briggs Chany Shopping Center in Silver Spring, MD. It’s a very busy shopping center and even though an over pass and redesign of the entire intersection took place only a couple of years ago, it’s still a big pain in the ass to get in and out of the place. No matter how quickly you get through their drive-thru, you always end up stuck at a light or waiting in line to get stuck at a light for a good 10 minutes.

Service: Really fast… No issues at all (aside from the traffic, which isn’t their fault). I’ve been to this location probably a dozen times in my life and I’ve never had to wait long for my food or go back because they screwed something up. By contrast, there’s a McDonald’s located right next to the Wendy’s and their drive-thru always seems to be jam packed and moving along slowly, if at all.

On a couple of occasion, I’ve pulled into the shopping center with the intent to go through the McDonald’s drive thru, only to be put off by the line of cars and chosen Wendy’s instead. Sometimes when I pull out of the Wendy’s drive-thru, I can see that the McDonald’s line hasn’t even moved.

Meal Review: Let’s get the fries out of the way first… They suck. They’re slightly bigger and thicker than McDoanld’s fries, but they have no taste. You can add all the salt or ketchup in the world but it still doesn’t hide the fact that their fries just aren’t very appealing. And somehow, they’re almost always cold. Wedny's is one of the better fast food places in terms of delivering a fresh product, but somehow those fries always manage to be lukewarm at best. I almost always ask them to swap out the fries for something else.

I like that about Wendy’s… they know their sides are below average, so they at least give you the option of picking your favorite below average side… I usually go with the chili, but in this case I went with the fries because that’s what most people do… and of course, they were cold and bland.

Now we let’s get to the sandwich… I have to admit that when I got the thing unwrapped my initial reaction was: “this isn’t very big…” But then again, we’re comparing it to the McDonald’s fillet and that’s not very big either. I’d say the Wendy’s fillet is thicker, whereas the McDonald’s fillet is wider. In the end they’re probably just about even in that respect.

But in every other category, the Wendy’s fillet is superior.

The meat is firmer, the breaded crust on is crispier, and the taste is just plain better. It may be that I’ve been influenced by their marketing campaign, but I really could taste the superior quality in the Wendy’s fillet.

The only complaint I have is that there wasn’t enough tarter sauce. In reviewing my pictures, I can see that there was some sauce on the sandwich, but I certainly couldn’t taste it. This of course is a delicate balance. Too much sauce and it overwhelms the taste of the fish and leaves you with a soggy bun… not enough sauce and you’re left with a dry sandwich. They should probably give you the tarter sauce on the side. If my sandwich is going to be fucked up, I’d prefer to be the one who fucks it up.

Cost: This is where McDonald’s can win back some points… The Wendy’s fillet is like $3.75, with the combo coming out to something around $6. The McDonald’s fillet is usually around $3, but they’ve been running specials in my area for a while now and I think you can get it for like $2 now… So the question is, does the superior quality of the Wendy’s fillet justify paying more money? I say yes, but it’s not like the McDonald’s fillet is all that bad... On the contrary, it’s quite tasty. So I’m sure there are some people out there who would disagree with me that the taste justifies the cost increase.

Obesity Breakdown: The sandwich was 470 calories and 24 grams of fat. The fries were 550 calories and 26 grams of fat… The Coke had 270 calories, giving us a grand total of 1290 calories and 50 grams of fat. That’s actually more calories than my Bojangles fried chicken meal, which really surprises me.

Summary: I’m giving it a rating of 8 / 10. It’s a great sandwich but the fries are below average, and you probably need to throw in a 5 piece-nuggets for an extra buck if you’re at all hungry.

Once Again...

2009-03-27T17:07:00.003-04:00

...Well just like the last time I tried to use my custom domain, blogger stopped redirecting the old address to the new one... the only difference is that this time they're aware of the issue and are even allegedly working on fixing it. so for now, it's back to the blogspot address... oh well...

Life in the Fast (food) Lane - Bojangles

2009-03-26T09:28:00.004-04:00

When I started thinking about the various issues involved with doing a fast-food review column, one of the biggest potential dilemmas had to do with regional restaurants. FITS has a fairly diverse geographical list of readers; would people in Southern California, for example, be interested in reading about Chic-Fil-A, a restaurant exclusive to the Southern Atlantic Coast region?

The answer to that is, of course, "I have no fucking idea..."

A couple weeks ago, I would have said, 'no', but then last week's LFFL generated some talk about places like, "Jack 'n the Box," and something called, "Wienerschnitzel's." Being from the East Coast, I've never seen either of those places in my life. You would think I would have been bored by such talk, but actually, Moe Greene and I ended up having at least two phone conversations about what it might be like to eat at a "Jack 'n the Box" or "Wienershnitzel's". We were fascinated with the idea and loved hearing about something new and foreign to us.

As far as LFFL is concerned, I've decided that I'll be sticking mainly with national fast food chains, but I'm also not going to shy away from reviewing something regional every now and then. And with that in mind, I give you this:

Bojangles: 2 piece fried chicken meal with fries and a biscuit

Bojangles' official name is actually, "Bojangles' Famous Chicken 'n Biscuits," so I figured this had to be the best meal to judge them on.

Location: Talk about obscure and regional... I actually wasn't even aware Bojangles existed up until about 3 months ago! Apparently, they're big in the South and particularly the Carolina's. In the DC area, however, they've only got five locations... and to make matters worse, all those locations are in some of the seedier sections of the Maryland "suburbs".

One is located just across the street from Prince George's Community College where my nephew William is a student. He was curious about it so he stopped in one day after school in the Fall semester; he's been eating there at least 3 times a week ever since. In fact, over winter break he missed it so much that he made me hop in the car with him and head over to his school just to feed his craving.

For this review however, we decided to swing by the, "New Carrolton," location because it was closer to my apartment... The area basically consists of a Metro Stop, a couple of rundown shopping centers, and some low-rent apartment communities. Let's just say, I doubt it would be very hard to find someone to sell you good weed in New Carrolton, and leave it at that.

Service: We (my nephew and I) have actually been to this location a couple of times, and learned the hard way that their drive-thru is a mistake. So yesterday, we went inside to place our ordered. We both made the exact same order, to the exact same woman. She was actually the manager, but after ringing us up she only gave me a drink cup; William got nothing. She told him that "a drink wasn't a part of his meal," so he had to buy it separate. Aside from that bizarre moment, the service was quick and we were back on our way home in about 3 minutes.

Meal Review: I'll start with the fries... Even though Bojangles is so quick to promote their biscuits and chicken, they really should consider giving equal billing to their fries. They're somewhere between being potato wedges and fries actually, and are full of flavor. Adding to the regional flavor of Bojangles, I think they throw in a pinch of either Old Bay Seasoning, or something similar... For those of you not from the DC/Maryland area, Old Bay is a spice from Baltimore that's made specifically for cooking crabs, but we use to put on any random food we want to add flavor to. We'll put it on every type of seafood, subs, fried chicken, potato salad, chips, and of course... fries!

My only complaint about the Bojangles fries is that they don't give you enough in a medium order... If they would go the Checkers or Arby's route of overloading you with fries, I'd probably eat there every other day.

The biscuit, for all the promoting they do, is actually a little bit of a disappointment. It is a moist, butter-milk biscuit with decent flavor and all, but it's not necessarily better than say, a Popeye's biscuit for example... I'd rate it as "above-average" which would be perfectly fine had they not gotten my hopes up by touting it as "famous".

The chicken however, does not disappoint in any way, shape, or form... The skin has a good texture; crisp but not overly crunchy. The meat is moist, fresh, and packs plenty of flavor. It destroys KFC, though that isn't saying much. I'd say I prefer it to Popeye's as well, but that's more of a personal preference than a comparison of quality.

The one and only knock I could come up with against the Bojangles chicken is that it's only halfway spicy... On the first few bites, I tasted a hint of hot spice, and that confused my taste buds a little. It made me start expecting things to heat up a little on subsequent bites, but it never did. I found myself wondering the whole time, "is this supposed to be spicy or not?"

My opinion on things like that is, if you're going to throw in some spice, really do it... make me have to reach across the table and take a swig of my drink after every other bite! And if you're not going to go the spicy route, well then, don't do it at all.

Cost: After taxes, my total came out to a little over 5 bucks... Considering the amount of food you get, that's actually a really good deal. It compares quite favorably to the other chicken options out there.

Obesity Break-Down: Anytime you thrown fried-chicken into the mix, you know its going to get ugly... just the two pieces of chicken alone added up to 40 grams of fat! In total, the meal topped out at 1161 calories and 71 grams of fat. I've certainly taken in plenty more than that in one fast-food meal, but that why I'm fat!

Summary: Obviously, anytime you're reviewing a meal, the bottom-line question should be: "Would you recommend it?"

And my answer to that is: "Absolutely!"

But when reviewing a rather obscure regional chain, I think the sub-question has to be: "Should I go way out of my way to give it a try?"

The answer to that is not quite as easy.

I probably wouldn't drive more than 20-30 minutes to eat there, but if you should for whatever reason (like buying weed perhaps) find yourself in the vicinity of one, you should definitely make time... and if you're hungry and actually drive past one, well then, you should cut across 3 lanes of traffic to pull into their parking lot without thinking twice. Especially if you're a chicken lover.

Overall, I'm giving it a solid 8 out of 10 rating. I really enjoyed it, and I'm sure I'll be back sometime soon.

Film Vault Tuesday

2009-03-23T20:20:00.010-04:00

As you can see, FITS got it's nails done, legs waxed, and new extensions put in the hair weave over the weekend. I hope you like the new changes, and if not, well just keep it to yourself. As you all have probably figured out, I can be a bit of an over-analytical obsessive type at times; I could spend day after day making small tweaks in the blog layout and never be 100% satisfied with the finished product. To avoid that, I decided to pick something "good enough" and stick with it regardless. So like it or not, this look is going to be around for quite some time.

In addition to the layout, I've added an "About" section with a link to an introduction post, as well as an archive specifically devoted to "Film Vault Tuesday" on the side column. In the future, I plan on adding an archive for "Life in the Fast (food) Lane," but since I've only written one post so far in the series, I figured that would be a bit premature.

For right now, the plan is to begin posting FVT more often (and maybe reworking it a bit), and of course, making "Life in the Fast (food) Lane," (LFFL) as close to a weekly instalment as I can.

We'll see how it all works out in the not too distant future, but for now, here is the latest installment of Film Vault Tuesday:

Title: Election (1999)

Credits: Matthew Broderick, Resse Witherspoon, Chris Klein, directed by Alexander Payne

Why?: More than just about any movie that comes to mind, Election, does a great job of capturing the essence of high school. We all knew a teacher like Mr. McAllister, and we all knew students like Tracy Flick, and Paul Metzler. And remarkably, the movie holds up very well.

When I first saw it, I was only a year or two removed from graduating high school. So obviously, I could relate to it. But last week I watched it with my nephew who just graduated from High School last year, and he kept saying things like, "Oh my god, our assemblies were just like that," or, "he reminds me of this history teacher I had." That's a good indication that the movie still translates.

I think the keys to this movie remaining relevant are: [a] it uses themes that are universal through time (teenage angst, lust, high school suck-ups, star quarterbacks, etc). And [b] there are no really obvious time period references... The music, the clothes, the hair styles, nothing screams out, "this was made in the early 90's."

When you watch at John Hughes movie about High School (and I don't mean this to be a criticism) you are always aware that it was made in the 80's. That's one of the best parts about re-watching a Hughes movie, but I don't think that was necessarily an intended result. When you watch "Election", you don't see anything obvious to tell you if it was 2006, 1996, or 1986.

And of course, it's really, really funny... The script was apparently adapted from a novel of the same name that I've always wanted to read, but haven't yet had the chance. Witherspoon and Broderick are both very good in their roles, and for whatever negative things you want to say about Klein's ability, you can't question his comedic timing.

It's also pretty cool to watch Ferris Bueller all grown up, and now playing the role of a burnt out teacher, struggling to handle a "problem" student.

Remote Scene Stopper: I absolutely, cannot, change the channel or turn the movie off until I have see Chris Klein give his, "why you should elect me," speech in front of the school. We all remember the nervous feeling of giving a speech in high school, and Klein nails it perfectly; He speed reads through what should have been a good speech, not pausing for punctuation, and never looking up once to make eye contact. It cracks me up every time.

I've heard that speech in high school. I've given that speech in high school.

Tear/LOL Factor: No tears, but there are several "laugh out loud" moments. In addition to the above referenced Klein speech, I find myself rewinding to laugh at the entire Broderick attempted affair debacle almost every time I watch the movie.

Overall: It's no Roman Polanski or Philip Thomas Anderson film, but then again, it's not trying to be. It's a straight forward High School comedy with star power and themes that anyone can relate to. It's a quick, it's funny, and it never disappoints. Whether you haven't seen it in 6 years or just saw it two months ago, you'll can pop in the DVD today and still enjoy it.

Life in the Drive-Thru

2009-03-20T10:51:00.008-04:00

Arby’s: Chicken, Bacon, & Swiss
[Large Curly Fries, Large Pepsi]

The Arby’s website describes the sandwich as, “[a] Crispy white meat chicken breast fillet topped with thick cut pepper bacon, Swiss cheese and honey mustard, all served on a toasted sesame seed bun.” Based on my long history with the "Chicken, Bacon, & Swiss", I’d tend to agree with that statement.

They describe the curly fries thusly, “Perfectly seasoned ringlets, fried to a golden brown and served hot…” Once again, I’ll say that’s fairly accurate.

As noted in my previous post, I have a long history with Arby’s. I have both served and eaten this sandwich more times than I’d like to admit. The key is the honey mustard sauce; too much and it overwhelms the senses, not enough and the result is a dry and tasteless sandwich.

Location: I bought this meal at the Arby’s in Ellicott City, Maryland. That’s more in the Baltimore area than the DC area, but my company’s home office is right down the street so I find myself in the area once every couple weeks.

The restaurant is located in the corner of a busy shopping center that includes a drug store and a grocery store; it’s a great place to park, eat, and people watch.

Service: I went through the drive-thru at a little before 5 pm. That meant they were done with the lunch rush but still not quite ready for the dinner rush. This is always a risky time to grab fast food. Inevitably, you either get food left over from lunch that’s been sitting under a heat lamp, or you end up waiting forever on your order because nothing is ready… In this case I was able to get through the drive-thru in less than 2 minutes so I knew right away I was probably getting lunch leftovers. See for yourself…

The Review: As you can tell, my theory was proved correct. In this situation it looks like my food has been sitting under a heat lamp for roughly 3 weeks.

You’re also probably thinking, “What happened to the fries Joel? Are you such pig that you couldn’t resist munching on the curly fries before you could even snap a picture?”

To answer your question, I am a pig, and I was tempted to get an early start on those fires, but that’s the actual amount of fries I was given in my order… I wasn’t surprised by that… Arby’s almost always does this. Their large fry box is such an obscene size that they can very rarely deliver on the promise of filling it. Of course, even at 75% full that’s still a ton of fries; the partially empty box just made it look small. When you take the box out of the way you get a much better feel for the true quantity.

This is a really simple sandwich… bread slice, chicken, cheese slice, bacon, sauce, bread slice… And that’s it. You’d have to try pretty hard to find a way to fuck that up, but congratulations to the food prep guy for finding a way against all odds!

Like I mentioned before, the one variable is the honey mustard sauce and that’s where things went bad. He either forgot the sauce completely, or put on such a small dab that I never tasted it.

But the bottom line is, even a “Chicken, Bacon, & Swiss” that’s been sitting under a heat lamp and half empty box of Curly Fries is still one of the better fast food options on the market. It’s a proven fact that chicken, cheese, and bacon are as fine a match as Lindsey Cohan, cocaine, and genital warts.

Cost: Arby’s is one of the pricier options in the world of fast food… But for that extra cost they deliver bigger portions, and (in theory) a slightly better quality food product… I think I paid roughly $7.50 for this meal but I forgot to hold on to the receipt so I can’t be 100% positive. Give me a pass on that, it’s my first review…

Obesity Break Down: According to the nutritional breakdown on the Arby’s website, my meal contained 1448 calories and 61 grams of fat.*

For comparison, Farting in the Shower contributor, Moe Greene, took in 1760 calories and 94 grams of fat in his now infamous “Last Supper” back in 2006. That meal so unhealthy that I recall doing a Google search for ‘CPR techniques’ as he was eating it, you know, “just in case”… so the fact that the totals for this meal were not actually dramatically less than his is down right frightening.

Summary: In the end I chalk this up as a mediocre meal with extenuating circumstances… I’ve eaten the Chicken, Bacon, & Swiss enough times to know that it’s usually much better. But had this been my first experience with it I would have walked away waddled away disappointed.

I can recommend the sandwich, but advise you to give a try during peak hours so you don’t encounter the lunch left over effect I went through.

6.5/10

* I suppose I could have deducted a percentage of the calories and fat to compensate for the missing fries, but that would have made the meal look a little healthier, and their intent in dicking me out of those fries was not to make the meal healthier, it was to avoid cooking another basket of fries just to fill my order.

One Year = One Decade

2009-03-19T10:43:00.002-04:00

During the second edition of the Sleazy Confession Awards, one of the anonymous confessors (Tough Chica) told us she lost her virginity at 16 with a 30 year old friend of her older brother. The guy turned out to be a bit of a creep so she decided that she would pretend it the experience never even took place. As far as she was concerned, he wasn’t her “first”. [Somewhere out there is a guy who’s probably really proud that was the one who took Tough Chicas’s virginity, even though he actually didn’t]

I feel the same way about my first job… I don’t actually count it as my first job.

It was at a restaurant called Ledo’s Pizza… For those of you not from the DC area, Ledo’s is a prominent local chain that was started back in the 50’s on the University of Maryland campus. Their gimmick (aside from a REALLY good product) is that their pizza is rectangular because the founder only had rectangular pans at the time.

Anyway, I got a job washing dishes at Ledo’s on Friday and Saturday nights. If I’m going to be honest with myself, I wasn’t a very good dishwasher… I would spend way too much time making sure every single dish was spotless… My mind would wander off and I’d find myself daydreaming as dried the same plate for 5 straight minutes… I would sneak away every chance I got to flirt with the waitresses… it wasn’t really my calling.

During my second weekend the other dishwasher called in sick so I was left alone. The place got really busy. I wasn’t keeping up with the rush. The manager yelled at me. I yelled back… and that was the end of it. I think I worked a total of maybe 20 hours over the two weekends.

Of course, for some unknown reason, once you start working it’s just expected that you’ll continue to work from that point forward. The day after I got fired my mom immediately started to bitch that I needed to, "go out and get a job,” as if I was some 53 year old bum who had been living on her couch rent free for the past 30 years.

She was relentless… Everyday I would get home from school, call her to let her know I was home, and she’d start right in with, “Did you find a job yet?” or “Why don’t you go to the mall and look for a job?” She never asked about school, homework, projects, tests, study time, or anything like that… it was always the job crap.

So there I was, at the mall, filling out applications… I wasn’t having any luck so I decided to go grab a bite to eat. I went into Arby’s to grab a roast beef sandwich with curly fries, and on a whim, I asked the girl behind the register if they were hiring.

“We’re always hiring,” she unenthusiastically replied. She looked miserable… but she had big boobs… so I applied… A couple days later I was working that same register. Unfortunately, the girl with the big boobs had already quit before I could start my first day.

What stands out most about my first day, was that the uniforms were dreadful… at the time Arby’s made employees wear one of two shirts: hideous pastel blue/green or Pepto-Bismol pink. They were both button up shirts, and since the “theme” of Arby’s at the time was some vague sort of Wild West motif, the shirts fit that style… partner…

Black khakis and plain black shoes were also a requirement… If you showed up with anything other than black, they would send you home.

And the work was really hard… obviously, there is no skill involved, but you have to be on your feet all night, it was hot, and even if you worked the register they would give you some extra task to do after closing like, “clean the lobby,” “clean the food prep area,” “clean the bathrooms,” or “wash dishes.” None of those jobs sound all that strenuous on their own, but when you've been on your feet for 8 straight hours, it starts to take its toll.

In an ironic/painful twist of fate, I almost always got stuck with the dishes… I wasn’t any better at washing Arby’s dishes than I was washing Ledo’s dishes… The manager would complain about how we got out late every night because I was such a slow dish washer, but then she would assign me that duty again the following night.

I made the minimum wage the entire time I was there. I remember they raised it while I was there from like $4.15 to $4.85 or whatever it was, and the manager tried to spin it as if Arby’s had given us all raises because they wanted to… She would even say things like, “you should want to work harder for Arby’s since they gave you this extra money...”

The worst time was the holidays… since we were in the middle of the mall the crowds would get out of control. People would wait in line forever just to give their order so by the time they got to the register they were fired up… A lot of stressed out middle aged fathers yelling at me because they didn’t think a “Beef ‘n Cheddar” sandwich should cost $3.50. It was a really miserable time, and come to think of it, that’s probably the tipping point for when I fell out of love with Christmas.

I ended up staying at Arby’s for about a year, but it felt like a decade. The job sucked, but the experience was valuable… I smoked weed for the first time ever in the bathroom while I was supposed to be cleaning the lobby. I got BJ’s in the supply closet, the freezer, the bathroom, and behind the dumpsters out back. I kissed a married, 37 year old mother/shift manager 2 full years before “American Pie” introduced the term ‘MILF’ to the American public; I made friends with a 60 year old Argentinean woman who cleaned the lobby and wanted me to marry her granddaughter; I gave away a lot of free food; I worked my butt off; and I realized that the smell of freshly cooked roast beef actually can get old.

It’s probably been a dozen years since I quit my “first” job, but I can still remember the sights, the taste, the sounds, the registers, and everything else that went along with the Arby’s experience… I feel like I could probably throw on my pink cowboy shirt, black khakis, and black shoes and ring up an order right now.

I’ve heard people say, “oh I can never eat food from [fill in fast food restaurant] because I used to work there and it grossed me out,” but that doesn’t apply to me… I still love Arby’s food… In fact, tomorrow when I unveil the new “FITS Fast Food Review” column, I’m dedicating my first review to my all-time favorite Arby’s meal!

I’ve been toying with the idea for quite some time now, and I’m really excited about it. I figure that if you guys can enjoy reading my fast food reviews half as much as I’m going to enjoy reviewing them, this should be a hit…

Don't Worry About Animal

2009-03-18T13:07:00.004-04:00

Have you ever noticed that when you learn a new word, see a new movie, or find out some new fact, all of a sudden it starts popping up in your life?

You find out that “canard” is a word used to describe “an unfounded, false, or fabricated report or story”; then two days later you hear someone describe Lou Dobbs’ entire career as a case study in the use of “canards” and suddenly, it all makes sense.

If you finally decide to sit down and watch a famous movie that you’d never bothered to see before, I guarantee that you’ll hear at least a half-dozen references to that movie over the next few months. Is it just a coincidence, or have you been unconsciously suppressing references to that movie for years? It’s hard to say.

On Monday I was listening to a “This American Life” podcast entitled “The Wrong Side of History,” when a perfect example of the topic of the show popped up into my life.

In the segment in question, Adam Davidson --an international economics correspondent for NPR-- is trying to convince his cousin D.J. that he has made a horrible mistake by dropping out of college. To help him win his argument, Adam elicits the opinions of Pietra Rivoli, an economics professor at Georgetown.

Without getting into all of the details, D.J. has gone through a series of blue-collar construction jobs. Surprisingly, Dr. Rivoli says that she’s not worried about D.J. or his future. She says that the people she worries about are low-skilled workers whose jobs have been, or will be outsourced. There will always be a need for blue-collar skilled workers. This country will always need people to drive trucks, repair cars, and build houses.

It’s all a matter of perception. Professional people are sometimes guilty of confusing education with intelligence, which is a terrible mistake. I’ve known people with graduate degrees that I wouldn’t hire to be a crossing guard, and conversely, two of the most intelligent men I’ve ever known only managed to get to the 10th grade.

I was walking to work as I was listening to this podcast. I have a routine I go through every morning. As soon as I get in, I walk over to the boiler room where the snack machines are located. I buy a 20 oz bottle of Dr. Pepper and one small bag of Cheeze-Its. The noise in the boiler room usually drowns out the sound of my ear-buds, so I paused the podcast discussion between Adam and D.J.

When I got to the machines I was hit with the terrifying realization that the soda machine was only accepting exact change; all I had were three $1 dollar bills. The soda is $1.50 and the Cheeze-Its are $0.90. The math didn't add up... Anybody who really knows me knows that if my routine gets thrown off in any way, shape, or form, I’m a total mess. I needed that Dr. Pepper. I needed those Cheeze-Its.

Not knowing what to do, I simply stood there staring at the machines for roughly 30 seconds in total disbelief.

Suddenly, a maintenance mechanic by the name of “Animal” walked up on the scene… let me give you some background on “Animal”. First of all, I have no idea what his real name is. I’ve known the guy for 4 years and I’ve never heard anyone call him anything other than “Animal”. He’s like 5’5” with long, unruly hair, a thick beard; he smells like beer, he’s always smoking a cigarette, and I once saw him shoot a snot rocket 30 feet across the parking garage of the Rayburn House Office Building… He reminds me a little of Charles Manson only his hair is brown as opposed to black.

So anyway, “Animal” walks up, looks at me, and looks at the machine, sizing up the situation… Without saying a word he takes a dollar bill from my hand, slides it into one of the other machines, presses the “return change” button, and out come 4 quarters…

“Now you got exact change,” he mumbled as he handed me the change and walked away. A cigarette was dangling from his lip the entire time.

It was the perfect scenario to bring my podcast discussion to life… Blue-Collar skill isn’t going anywhere, education doesn’t equal intelligence, you don’t have to worry about D.J., and you certainly don’t have to worry about “Animal”.

Diary of a Step Dad

2009-03-17T13:55:00.006-04:00

“I took ‘dickhead’ to the park to play baseball today… the bastard is actually talented. He wouldn’t be so awful to live with if he wasn’t such a little asshole…”

The “dickhead” was Moe Greene, and he was only 9 years old at the time that was written. The author of that flattering commentary was Moe’s step dad Jim.

When I met Moe Greene, his family rented a house a couple streets down from mine. Nearly all of the neighborhood population was made up of old people. And by old, I mean elderly. They had already raised their kids, retired, and were now waiting to die. It wasn’t a very fun place to grown up. Out of the 200-300 houses in the neighborhood, there were actually only 20 or so households that had kids.

So when Moe Greene and I discovered each other, it was a little like hitting the lottery. We spent just about every waking moment, of every day, together. Life was that way for about a year until, one day, Moe was gone… He wasn’t on the school bus; I didn’t see him after school, he was nowhere to be found… Nobody answered his door, there were no cars in the driveway, they were just gone.

Then one day, my mom said she saw someone over at Moe’s house carrying boxes out the door. I ran over as quickly as I could and rang the bell.

Moe’s stepdad, Jim, answered the door… I should probably explain that during all my interaction with Moe, we were almost always at my house... His house was scary... We weren’t allowed to make any noise, or touch anything. This was because of Jim… I never saw him do or say anything mean, but for whatever reason, everyone was afraid of him.

“You kids better be quiet or you’re going to upset Jim,” his mother would warn us; or “You better not let Jim catch you messing with his stuff, you know how he gets…”

Moe always took the threats very seriously, so in turn, I did as well… I grew to be terrified of the man. He never spoke to us, he always appeared to be in a bad mood, and he had deep, sunken, serial killer eyes.

So you can imagine my fear when I knocked on the door in search of Moe Greene and Jim answered the door.

“Umm… hi, is Moe there?”

“Moe’s gone,” he replied in a somber tone. It was the first time I’d ever heard him speak.

“Gone? What do you mean?”

“They moved… he and his mother, they moved out…”

“But… where did they go?” I asked, now in a total panic. (Remember, Moe was my only friend and now he had mysteriously vanished)

“How the fuck would I know?” he curtly replied.

And then he shut the door in my face.

It would be a couple of months before I finally heard from Moe again. His mom apparently called my mom, and asked if Moe could stay with us for a week or so. It seems times were tough in the Moe Greene household. So he came to stay with us for a while.

Of course, I asked about what had happened. Where had they gone? Why had they gone? Etc.

For his part, Moe didn’t really have a lot of answers… all he knew was that his mom and Jim had a fight and they had moved out in the middle of the night.

After staying with us for that week, Moe and his mom would make sporadic appearances in our lives. We wouldn’t hear anything from them for a couple weeks… then he’d all of a sudden pop up and stay a few days… then he’d be gone again… They moved around a lot, rented rooms, stayed with friends, and finally they got their own apartment.

Around that time, Moe’s mom met a decent guy and they finally had some stability at home… but of course, this is when my home life started getting a little messy. All of a sudden it became my mom asking Moe’s mom to take me in for a week here and there.

Moe’s mom was about 5 foot tall, weighed 80 pounds, drove a car that the size of a parade float, chain smoked generic brand cigarettes, cussed like a sailor, loved telling stories, and was always trying to embarrass Moe Greene. So naturally, I loved her. As the years went by she became like a second mom to me.

Sometimes, when she was in a really good mood we would ask her about Jim, and the time they had to mysteriously move out in the middle of the night. Was he cheating on her? Did he get violent? Was he on drugs? What the hell happened?

The only thing she would ever tell us is that she found his diary and that it had some bad stuff in it… that was it… she wouldn’t say what the diary said, or give any indication as to what it was about. It was just bad.

Being curious kids, we of course obsessed about this mystery diary. We would come up with wild scenarios for what it might have contained… Maybe he was planning to rob a bank, assassinate a politician, or was a fugitive from justice… or maybe he was just gay… It was a topic of late night discussion and pondering for several years.

As we grew older, we stopped thinking about it so much. We never really forgot the diary completely, but we had girls, music, and sports to discuss… the diary just stopped being a topic.

And then one day, we found it.

We were going through some boxes in a closet of the guest room and there it was, the mysterious ‘Jim’ Diary. It had his name on it and everything. And technically, it wasn’t really a diary or a journal per say, it was more of a day planner…. He wrote a couple small paragraphs in the square for each day, and if I remember correctly, it actually spanned several years in one planner. We had stumbled onto what essentially amounted to 3 years of the man’s life.

We took the diary back to Moe’s room, opened it up, and started reading the passages out loud. The first one we came across contained the quote I used to lead the story… It called Moe a “dickhead”, a “bastard”, and “a little asshole”. This would prove to be a major theme of the diary. Page after page was devoted to Jim talking about what a little jerk Moe Greene was. Almost exclusively, he referred to him as “the dickhead”, “the asshole”, or when he was being nice, “the brat”.

Keep in mind, Moe was between the ages of 7 and 9 years old at the time. And to be fair, he really was kind of a jerk, as much as any 9 year old can be I guess. Moe was the type of kid that figured out in the first grade that he was smarter than all the other kids and probably half of the adults… but he couldn’t keep that to himself. He had to tell everyone else around him how dumb they were, pointing out their flaws at every opportunity. He couldn't turn that off. Neither could I. It's probably part of the reason we forged such a strong bond; nobody else could stand us.

He wasn't the ideal kid to get stuck with in a relationship. I mean, if you're going to date a single mother, you're hopping to get the kid from Jerry Maguire, not smart mouth kid who would make fun of the shirt you were wearing and snicker anytime you tried to tell him what to do… but then again, he was just a little kid. And it’s not easy to hate a little kid, but Jim did. In fact, he said as much at least two dozen times in 1989 alone!

But Moe wasn’t the only target of Jim’s hatred and resentment; his mother got her fare share as well. She was usually referred to as “the bitch”, “the hag”, or “the cunt”. He talked about how moody she was, how much he despised the sound of her voice, and sometimes, how much he wanted to get away from her.

But mostly, he just bitched about Moe.

Moe was always touching his stuff, leaving messes in the living room, and arguing with everyone… But what pissed Jim off most about Moe, was the fact that he was smart. It really bothered him that such superior intelligence would be wasted on a rotten, ungrateful child. Many times he wondered why he couldn’t have been blessed with the talents Moe had been blessed with. I remember one entry in particular where he marveled at Moe’s abilities in math; “if I had been blessed with a brain like that maybe I wouldn’t be shacked up with such an evil hag and working a crap job…”

As the months went on his entries went from anger, to jealousy, to utter depression. The guy really had a miserable life. It certainly wasn’t fair to blame Moe, but at the same time, we couldn’t help but feel a little bit of sympathy for him. Every single day of his life was reduced to short, single paragraph summaries like: “had a shitty day at work, got home, argued with the bitch about the asshole, he was messing with my baseball cards again, I wish this life would end…”

All of his entries had a similar quality where they were so pathetic, and so heartbreakingly honest, that they were actually funny. Reading the diary was like going on an emotional journey. We’d start out with outrage at what a prick he was, then we’d crack up for an hour so at how hilariously pathetic he was, and then we’d get depressed right along with him.

I was 17 at the time, and Moe was 16. Had we found the diary when we were younger, it might have left some emotional scars. As thick skinned as Moe was, reading that an adult/pseudo-father figure thought you were an asshole might not have been all that easy to handle… Not to mention all the stuff about his mom.

But like I said, we were at the right age. We could put it all in proper perspective. It taught us that adults were just people, and that they didn’t all necessarily have things figured out; they could be just as fucked up and clueless as we were… I think that’s an important part of the story.
Eventually, we ended up losing the diary… We would always put it back in the same place where we had found it, but then one day we went to get it out and it was gone. We had lusted after it for so long, finally found it, and then just as suddenly as it had come into our lives, it was gone.

I told Moe I was planning on writing about the diary for the blog. We laughed about some of the stuff that we remembered, and tried to remember some of the stuff we had forgotten. We’re pretty sure Moe’s Mom must have thrown the diary out when she was renovating the guest room. We decided that we would chip as much as $100 each if it meant we could somehow track it down. But we know, it’s probably lost forever.

When I think back on my fading memories of Jim, he’s still an adult, and we're still little kids… but in reality, he probably wasn’t that much older than we are now.

And of course Moe is a father now. He has 3 kids, a mortgage, and lots of adult things to stress out about. He has his good days and his share of bad days as well. A couple weeks ago, his pre-kindergarten aged son decided to practice his golf swing in the living room; he ended up smashing Moe’s beloved 32” wide screen HDTV.

If Moe had a diary, I wonder what kind of entry he might have written on that day? I'm sure he was angry. I'm sure he was frustrated. But he's actually a fairly patient and understanding father. I don't think he could write about his kids the type of things Jim wrote about him. He's a better man than Jim was, and probably still is. Maybe a small part of that is because we found that diary.

Sometimes, seeing a bad example can be just as valuable as seeing a good one.

"Psycho George", Unfiltered

2009-03-16T07:38:00.006-04:00

For the last few weeks I've been struggling to find a decent balance in my life... Last week was particularly challenging; I had 2 research papers, 1 photojournalism project, and a Sleazy Confession Award show that were all due at various points throughout the week... plus the University of Maryland was fighting for their basketball lives in the ACC Tournament, so I had to watch that, and oh yeah, I have a job too... Last week, school, work, blogs, sports fanaticism, they were all involved in a nasty collision at the intersection that is my life... to be perfectly honest, I'm still not sure how I was able to survive the crash.

This week however, I get a bit of a break... Spring Break to be more specific. No classes, no papers, no projects due. I still have to go to work, but because I've gotten so used to having no free time, this actually feels like a vacation. I want take to the streets and celebrate! I can kind of understand now, how a relatively normal 19 year old girl ends up drunk, and starring in some creepy guy's vacation video, with cheap beads hanging from her neck, and her boobs proudly exposed for the whole world to see... of course, like I said, I still have to work so there will be no vacation... no beads, and thankfully for all of you, no topless videos of me popping up on the internet. [at least I hope not]

Instead, I've decided to celebrate my Spring Break by putting some effort into the blog. The plan is to post something everyday... I can't promise that any of it will actually be good, but at the very least it will be better than work. And in the end, isn't that what blogging is all about? Giving people a better, more entertaining option than work.

Since this extra blogging opportunity has been brought to me by school, I figured the first story for the week should be school related...

I ended up signing up for classes this semester a little late. As a result, many classes I was planning on taking were already filled up and so I got stuck with a couple online classes. For the most part, I've enjoyed it. No fake personal interactions, no boring lectures, less time on campus, and in general, less hassle. I don't know if I'm actually learning the material any better, but like I said, I've enjoyed the experience.

Anyway, one thing I've noticed about online classes is that, for whatever reason, the "weird" factor seems to greatly increase in this format. Each week there is a topic posted based on the course readings. Students are expected to post their thoughts on the topic and read the thoughts of their fellow students... Occasionally, people write some really weird shit!

For example, in my Criminal Justice class, the topic a couple weeks back was pretty simple; "What are the pros and cons of mandatory arrest for domestic violence?"

For the most part we got a lot of straight forward answers... some people basically paraphrased from the text, others linked to news articles and academic studies, and then we get to the guy I like to call, "Psycho George".

"Psycho George," went on a semi-coherent rant about how he had recently been arrested for domestic violence over some incident that occurred with his ex-wife a while back. Conveniently, he felt his arrest was total BS and implied that the police were actually harassing him as part of a wide spread conspiracy to ruin him...

The reason behind the conspiracy? They were all sleeping with his ex-wife!

"Psycho George," then goes on to say that he doesn't feel comfortable revealing person information within the class room (cause you know, telling everyone that you're a crazy wife beater who thinks the entire local police department is sleeping with your wife isn't really all that personal I guess) but that if anyone would like to learn more about his case you can check his student bio for more information!

Anyone who has read this blog for any amount of time should know that I absolutely love crazy people... So of course I went and took a look at "Psycho George's" biography; I'm pleased to report that he did not disappoint... In fact, I've decided to give you guys a peek.

So here it is, "Psycho George," unfiltered:

(actually I should say, "semi-filtered" because I've edited some of his info to protect his identity)

[Psycho George] is originally from [a midwestern city]. He is taking this class as a non-admitted student to learn the basic fundamentals of criminal justice, brought on by his lack of experience with the criminal justice system.

On the evening of November __, 2008 while eating dinner, in his quiet [DC area city] apartment [Psycho George] was suddenly arrested and charged with three crimes he did not commit. Unknown to [Psycho George], his accusers had filed three warrants in [DC area city] in a span of three hours.

Later, it was discovered this was done to cover the trail of both accusers involved with [Psycho George]’s estranged wife. Both accusers knew that with [Psycho George] behind bars they could continue their involvement with narcotics and his wife.

After [Psycho George] was released he spent the next 72 hours in a relentless pursuit to clear his name with federal and local authorities. In the first 72 hours after his release from jail, and without sleep, [Psycho George] hired an attorney, and collected a large amount of evidence. [Psycho George] turned over all the evidence he had collected to his attorney and waited for his day in court.

In February 2008, while attending a court hearing in [DC area city] the prosecutor motioned “Nolle prosequie” in the first of three separate criminal charges. Soon after the other criminal charges were dismissed, at no time did either accuser or the local law enforcement officer who arrested [Psycho George] on appear at any court hearings. These actions caused a dismissal in his other court proceedings. [Psycho George]’s defense attorney petitioned for an expungement of his criminal records and in October, 2008 He was granted an expungement, for the first of three false criminal charges.

In Februsary of 2009 after 6 1/2 years of marriage [Psycho George]'s petition for divorce was granted. [Psycho George] has served in the military for 16 ½ years and has received numerous awards serving his country. [Psycho George] continues to quietly reside alone in [DC area city] despite harassment from local law enforcement officers. His hobbies include studying Tai Chi, philosophy, art, photography, and playing an occasional paintball tournament.

In 2013, after his retirement [Psycho George] plans on relocating somewhere remote and quiet.

Where do we start? First of all, I love how he says he's taking the class because of his "lack of experience with the criminal justice system," when in fact I'd say he has quite a bit of experience with the system!

And how about those hobbies, Tai Chi, philosophy and paintball? He's a Renaissance Man!

2009 Sleazy Confession Awards!

2009-03-10T12:42:00.009-04:00

Okay Shower Farters… Sit back, relax, and enjoy…

I know that wasn’t exactly the best way to introduce the use of video onto the blog, but the alternative was Moe Greene’s video of himself trying to break the magic “5 times in one day” record, set by HP, Eric, and myself… trust me, what you just saw was way more appealing.

Now before we get on with the rest of the show let me, once again, thank everybody for their participation. Looking back at the confessions to prep for the award show allowed me to soak it all in once more; upon reflection, I think we topped the first edition… which is a good thing, but also a bad thing as well… good because it was obviously entertaining, but bad because we learned a little more about each other than we had probably hoped for.

Right now it feels like we just spent the night drinking together and had some sort of drunken romantic encounter --which was great as it happened-- only now it’s the next day, and I’m not sure I can look any of you in the eye ever again... Frankly, I’m not sure where we go from here.

But for now, let’s get on with the award show!

As was the case last time, winners can make their acceptance speeches in the comments section… same goes for well wishers, people who feel they were slighted and have a bone to pick, and anyone else who would like to throw in their 2 cents…

I figure we should start off with the “Readers Choice Award”… I was planning on saving this towards the end since it’s arguably one of the more “prestigious” awards, but since the results have been public for a while, there is no suspense… The winner, hands down, was Cindylu for her, “I like to bite,” confession!

Now I have to be honest here, I wasn’t shocked that Cindy won, in fact one of those votes was mine, but I was a little surprised at such a wide margin of victory… I think what happened was that because her confession was so out of character from the Cindy we’ve grown to know and love, it made us all feel like we learned more about her than we perhaps learned from anyone else.

If you asked me a month ago what I thought a date with Cindylu might be like I would have said: “either a concert or a Dodger game, followed by a quiet dinner, a drink or two, and if you played your cards right, maybe a short but sweet kiss…”
I never had any idea that waking up with mysterious bite marks all over your chest was an option! I feel like I now need to re-evaluate the entire Cindylu era... this is kinda like when Tiffani-Amber Thiessen went from being the cute and lovable Kelly Kapowski on Saved by the Bell to the dangerous sex-symbol in 90210.

So again, maybe not the most scandalous confession, but quite clearly a favorite of the voters.

Now it’s time to move on to the first of our traditional awards...

First up is “The Best Non-Sexual Confession”… and our nominees are Sorry.Mom., Teresa, Mentirosa, and Chanclita…

…And the winner is… Mentirosa!

Anytime you can keep up a lie, any lie, for that many years, well that’s pretty damn impressive… and that’s the kind of behavior we feel should be rewarded here at FITS. So congrats Mentirosa, whoever you are.

Next up we’ve got the Lindsey Lohan memorial “Out of Control Teen” Award… Past winners include, both Hilton sisters, Brittney Spears, Ferris Bueller, and anyone with the last name ‘Bush’… Our nominees were, Chanclita, Tough Chica, HP, and Lauren...

And the winner is…

HP!!!!

Dropping out of High School to pursue a life of groupie sex on the carnival circuit certainly qualifies as out of control in my book… Congrats to HP for not only really living his teenage years, but for also figuring out when to steer the car back onto the road before he ended up with a case of syphilis and couple missing fingers.

Next up we’ve got the “Best ‘First’ Award”, and I must say, we had some *stiff* competition in this category… The nominees were HP, Tough Chica, Sonrisa, and Kissing a Stranger…

[…before I announce the winner, this would be a good time to mention how the awards were determined... Moe Greene and I each filled out our own ballots then compared results. The ones we disagreed on were debated back and forth to see if we could compromise, and if we couldn’t come to an agreement we sent those votes to a secret third party arbitrator… There were only three awards that needed a third party, and this was one of them…]

But anyway, the winner is… Tough Chica!!!!

Now, as an older brother, let me say that I would commit terrible, violent acts if my sister ever did something like that with one of my friends. The thought alone is making my blood pressure increase as I type… but on the other hand, I’ve known some little sisters that I wouldn’t have minded “deflowering” so… I’m conflicted… but regardless, great confession and certainly a worthy winner.

And now, a musical interlude that I think you’ll all enjoy…

…welcome back… I must mention that I was first introduced to that clip a few weeks back by my favorite sports writer, Bill Simmons (although I’m not sure if it was something he wrote about in his ESPN column or talked about on his podcast). Anyway, the great debate surrounding that clip is: early in the song, was Tesh doing a piano version of an air guitar or pretending to dribble a basketball? Tell me what you think.

Anyway, next up is the “Multi-Confession Award”… this one also needed to be sent in for third party arbitration… the nominees were HP, E-Rich, and Sonrisa… I'll let the third party arbitrator break down his decision:

“i would go with HP, one because there are multiple confessions within his first
one and then [he] made the "anonymous" one as well. more importantly, the
quality of each confession is great. i did like sonrisa's first confession of
fucking a virgin and making him cry, but HP nailed a carney. done.”

So congrats once again to HP!

Moving right along… We’ve got the “Best ‘Open’ Confession,” and again, I can’t stress this enough, but these were really hard decisions to make… the nominees were, Sonrisa, HP, Cindylu, and ~A.D~…

…and the award goes to…

~A.D~ !!!!!

Lets have a round of applause for ~A.D~

Our final contested confession award came in the category of “Best Anonymous Confession”; the nominees were Pandora, Spin Doctor, Escandelo, and Hooked Up…

We might not have needed to reach out for the third vote because, in the end, we all ended up listening to each other’s opinion and came to one final conclusion… and that is that Hooked Up is the clear winner here. We all felt that the "smelly finger factor" made this one extra special, so step forward “Hooked Up” and claim thy prize!

Before we get into the “Big 3”, we’ve got one final musical performance… this time its from the official FITS house band, the newly reunited, Blink-182:

Okay… Are you guys ready for the “Big 3”?

Lets start off with the “Best Male Confession”… The nominees in this category are… Hooked Up… Eric… HP… and Spin Doctor…

… and the winner is… HP!!!!!!!! What a night it’s been so far for HP, he’ll have a lot of people to thank but luckily for him, he has several chances to climb up on stage and do so…

Next we’ve got the “Best Female Confession” award… it’s an honor just to be nominated for something so dignified, and all of these ladies are deserving winners, but we can only choose one. Will it be ~A.D~, Sonrisa, Cindylu, or Mentirosa? All of them have already been honored with Sleazy Confession awards here tonight. But the winner is…

… Sonrisa!!!!

And now…

Thanks again for everyone's participation, support, and time. I hope you guys enjoyed the confessions... It's never too late to start looking ahead to next year, so for now, be sleazy, but also be safe. I can't wait to hear what you pervs will have for next year!

Don't Forget...

2009-03-10T12:41:00.001-04:00

...to stop by tonight to read the 2009 Sleazy Confession Awards!

And the nominees are...

2009-03-03T08:09:00.006-05:00

If any of you out there were under the impression that FITS was some sort of well oiled, reliable machine... Monday was proof that you couldn't be more wrong. It doesn't take a lot to get me off track. Yesterday it was a snow storm. Here in DC we got around 6 to 8 inches of snow between Sunday night and Monday afternoon. As a result, I didn't have to work... As a matter of fact, I didn't even leave the house.

Now, you might thinkg that given that time off I would have had more opportunity to get the "2009 Sleazy Confession Award Nominations" done... but it didn't work out that way. I never even turned on my laptop. But I did play XBox 360, melt cheese over nachos in the microwave, play some Foosball, and lay on the couch in my boxers getting caught up with my TiVo recordings... it never even occurred to me that I was supposed to put together the nominations until late last night.

So anyway, that's why we're running a day late... As it stands, this pushes back the award show to one week from today, Tuesday, March 10th. I will not miss that deadline... you know, unless it snows again, I have a flat tire, or I get distracted by any small shiny objects.

Now that we've got the excuses out of the way, let's get to the nominations!

We have 10 categories this year, starting with the "Best Non-Sexual Confession". I was actually a little surprised that we were so heavy on sex confession, but we still ended up with some pretty strong nominees in this category anyway: Sorry.Mom. for stealing her mom's birthday money; Teresa, for the near DUI that ended her pseudo date; Mentirosa, for fabricating a phony boyfriend that is still hanging around in her life; and Chanclita, for being a border-line teenage alcoholic who nearly choked to death on her own vomit.

Next up we've got the "Out of Control Teen" award. Nominees are, Chanclita for her above referenced incident; Tough Chica, for losing her virginity to her brother's adult friend and then pretending it never happened; HP, for dropping out of high school so he could travel around as a Carney, shagging small-town girls all across the West Coast; and Lauren, for crashing cars, drinking, and having sex with her adult boyfriend while her parents were upstairs watching TV.

"Best 'First' Confession": HP, for losing his virginity as birthday present with a girl who's biggest attraction was that she [a] was easy, and [b] was cousins with the girl he really wanted; Sonrisa, for giving a pity fuck to a 27 year old virgin; Tough Chica, for her escapade with her brother's best friend, and Kiss a Stranger, for sharing her first kiss at age 14 with a 26 year old Italian man.

"Multiple Confession Award"... this goes to readers who couldn't help confessing multiple times... HP, who, in addition to the "Carney Sex Tour", and a very special 15th birthday present, also told us that he banged the ugly sister of a girl he had already been with, basically so he could say he had done sisters... and oh by the way, placed his person record for "self enjoyment" at 5. E-Rich, who drove to another state to sleep with a girl he met on "World of Witchcraft", and also flew all the way to Boston after a breakup to try and prove to himself that he still had the skill to pull off a one night stand. [Eric also had a person record of 5 in the "self enjoyment" category]... and finally Sonrisa, who in addition to taking the 27 year old's virginity, also made it known that she's had multiple 3-somes with a variety of gender combos. [I'm not sure what her person best "self enjoyment" record is but I'm sure it's impressive.] We don't really have a 4th nominee... I technically could have been nominated for my original confession plus my "5 times in a day" story, but the rules are pretty clear that Moe, Mike, and I can confess but cannot be nominated.

"Best 'Open' Confession": this is obviously for those who posted their confession under the name they usually post under... anyway, we've got Sonrisa, and HP for their well documented deeds, and then we've got Cindylu, who told us all about her sexy biting fetish, and finally ~A.D~ who is planning a 3-some with 2 guys, neither of which are her husband.

"Best Anonymous Confession": Pandora, for carrying on an 8 year affair that didn't even end when her counterpart got married; Spin Doctor, for playing spin-the-bottle with four girls he'd just met while his wife was at a party celebrating parents anniversary; Escandelo, for staying with her ex while away on a trip, getting high with him, letting him get to 3rd base, and then never bothering to tell her boy friend about it even though she had just recently vowed to herself that she wouldn't screw up ther relationship; and Hooked Up, for taking his soon to be wife out to the movies hours after he had been with another girl, with no time to wash away any potential "scented evidence".

And finally, we have the "Big 3" of the confession awards... the FITS equivalent to the Best Picture, Best Female Lead, and Best Male Lead at the Academy Awards.

"Best Male Confession": HP, Eric, Hooked Up, and Spin Doctor.

"Best Female Confession" : Sonrisa, ~A.D~, Cindylu, and Mentirosa.

"Best Overall Confession": ~A.D~, Sonrisa, HP, and Eric.

As a twist, I'm going to attempt to put up a poll with all the confessions on the right side of the blog so you, the readers and confessors, can all vote on what you felt was your favorite confession, not necessarily the best, just your favorite... The winner of the poll will be the "Reader's Choice Award".

Anyway, sorry about the delay... I'll have a regular post on Thursday, and then we've got the "Confession Award Show" coming up a week from now.

The Deadline

2009-02-27T11:47:00.006-05:00

Well guys it looks like the deadline is finally upon us... all the confessions have been submitted and I think it's safe to say that none of you bastards can ever run for public office.

Thanks to everybody who was kind enough to spill the beans on themselves. I can say without a doubt that this round of confessions was every bit as successful as the original Sleazy Confessions were, quite possibly even better... which is really saying something because you pervs set the bar pretty high (or low, depending on how you want to look at it) the first time around.

At this point the pressure is off you guys and on me. I'm now faced with the task of sorting through all of your shameful escapades to somehow narrow it down to a final a list of nominations. Let's hope I'll be up to the task.

See you on Monday Shower Farters!

FITS Sleazy Confessions 2009!

2009-02-17T22:49:00.004-05:00

I’d been thinking about bringing back the Confession Awards for quite some time but to be perfectly honest, I didn’t see how we could possibly live up to the standards we set the first time around.

I now know what it must have been like for Harper Lee to try and write a follow up to, To Kill a Mocking Bird, Counting Crows to enter the studio after “August and Everything After”, or Victoria Givens after she broke the world anal gangbang record… I mean, after you’ve been to the summit, what could you possibly do for an encore?

But with some encouragement, I’ve decided to bring it back… I refuse to believe, however, that this second edition of the Confession Awards has to be a lesser version of original. Against all odds, I think we can actually do better; and in an effort to ensure that, I’ve decided to change the rules… We’re all going to make at least two confessions.

One of the confessions will be just like we did the last time, normal confession, under whatever blogger ID you normally post under. It can be as daring and adventurous as you want. But the second confession will be completely, 100% anonymous.

Now, you can make as many anonymous confessions as you want… I personally plan on dropping the dime on myself several times, but really, if everyone made just one good anonymous confession this could be special.

And to ensure things stay anonymous I'm going to turn off my site tracker until we're done, so not even I will be able to track down where the comments came from.

The only request I have is that when you make your anonymous confession, instead of clicking the “anonymous” category in the comment section, click on the “Name/URL” and enter in some sort of pseudonym… obviously you would leave the URL blank. It doesn’t have to be anything clever or elaborate, just something to differentiate one anonymous confessor from another. It will make things a lot easier for me when I have to sort out the awards... if everyone's confession simply says "anonymous" it will be a pretty boring award show.

But enough of the details, it’s about time to get this thing kick started with the first confession:

When I was 16, I stole a car and ran away from home… I’ve mentioned it in passing here on the blog but I’ve never actually told the story. Until today that is. Now you’re going to hear the whole thing in all its embarrassing glory.

At the time, I was dating a girl we’ll call “Luci”. I only started dating her because I was madly in love with another girl who we’ll call “Andrea”. I had been in-love/obsessed with Andrea for over 2 years, but unfortunately, Andrea didn’t feel the same way. We were really good friends. We talked on the phone every day, we walked home from school together, we hung out on weekends. It was like we were a couple, only, we weren't. I was trapped in the dreaded “friend zone” trying to figure a way out. "You're like a brother to me," is the doomed line I remember her giving me when ever the subject came up.

So, in an attempt to make Andrea jealous, or perhaps maybe even allow myself to move on from this dead end situation, I started dating Luci. And lucky for me, Luci knew exactly what to do to make me forget Andrea.

At this point I should disclose that I was pretty inexperienced when it came to sex. The highlight of my romantic career up until that point had happened the previous summer when I felt a drunken girl’s boob during a make-out session.

So with that kind of resume you can imagine how totally unprepared I was when a week into my relationship with Luci she introduced me to oral sex! It was like going from a Go-Cart track to the Indy 500. Andrea was suddenly a thing of the past!

Or so I thought… As these matters tend to go, as soon as Andrea saw me with Luci she began doing classic passive-aggressive girl stuff to sabotage my relationship. All of a sudden, I was out of “the friend zone". Andrea no longer saw me as a brother and she made it clear that if I broke up with Luci we might have a shot together. So I had a decision to make… Do I go with true love or oral sex?

Believe it or not I was actually leaning towards following my heart, but Luci wasn’t the type of girl who could accept losing… She was competitive in the way Jenifer Jason Leigh was ‘competitive’ in “Single White Female”, or Glen Close was in “Fatal Attraction”.

Before I could even make a decision, Luci decided to step things up. We skipped school on a Wednesday afternoon and spent the entire day alone at my house. My virginity was a thing of the past! This was great news for me of course… until the next day when Luci told me she was pregnant!

Now again, lets keep in mind that I had ZERO sexual experience at that point. It did sound implausible for her to know she was pregnant the day after we had sex for the first time, but who was I to question her? This was the girl who had taken me from a world of hoping to touch a sweater covered boob to a world of orgasms and colorful panties! How could I doubt anything she said!

So there I was, in school, thinking about the previous day’s adventures when all of a sudden I get the “I’m pregnant” note from Luci… Naturally, I turned to Moe, and Moe of course told whoever he told, and they told someone, and all of a sudden Andrea knew! Any chances I had of ever being with her were crushed. She wouldn’t even speak to me.

In 24 hours I had gone from losing my virginity, to being disowned by the girl I’d been in love with since Middle School, and facing the possibility of becoming a teenage father with a girl who was a lot of fun, but not exactly “mom” material.

A responsible, mature 16 year old might have tried to sit down and come up with a solution, maybe gone to speak to the school counselor, or perhaps consulted some other trusted adult… I, on the other hand, decided to go on the run.

My parents had bought a beat up old Ford Tempo from a neighbor who was thinking about junking the car altogether. They decided it would be my first car. I wasn't even expecting a car so despite its condition I was smitten with it from the first time I sat in the driver's seat. Sometimes I would get home from school and just sit in it for hours listening to the radio and doing my homework. I would have actually driven it around, but the problem was that I had no driver’s license. In fact, I didn’t even have a learners permit. I was so awful at driving that I let my permit expire and my parents didn’t even complain despite the fact that they had just shelled out money for that car. It was clear to them, me, and anyone who had ever seen me attempt to park I was either going to kill myself, or someone else, if the State of Maryland were ever dumb enough to give me a valid driver's license.

But now I had to get away… I filled the car with clothes, food, and blankets. I had $13, half tank of gas, and absolutely no idea what I was going to do. But off I went… I drove all over the city for about an hour, then got bored with that and decided to head north. Despite my fear, I somehow managed to merge onto the highway. I was immediately confronted with bumper to bumper traffic. I had never driven in that. When the lady in front of me came to a sudden stop, I panicked and instead of hitting the breaks, I hit the gas… Opps… My first accident.

We pulled over to exchange information. She asked for my insurance information and I had no idea what that even was so instead, I gave her my dad’s name and number. At that point she got suspicious and asked to see my driver's license… You know, the license I didn’t have… In a continuation of the brilliant decision making skills I had shown thus far, I decided to once again run away!

I remember telling her, “My license is in the car, let me go get it, I’ll be right back…” right before I sped away.

The night was pretty uneventful from that point on… I drove around Western Pennsylvania for a couple of hours before deciding to head back into Maryland. I remember trying to sleep at a rest stop for a couple of hours but being too afraid that I'd be murdered by some hitchhiking axe murderer to close my eyes for more than a minute at a time. I also tried to rent a hotel room at one point but ran into some road blocks because [a] I was only 16, [b] had no license or ID, and [c] only had $13.

Finally, at around 4 a.m., I was tired, lost, and realizing that I had no idea what I would do with my life as an outlaw fugitive from justice. Plus my fuel tank was just about on empty and I didn’t even know how to use a gas pump.

When I saw a cop who had pulled over another vehicle on the side of the road, I pulled in behind them and “surrendered”. I told him everything; how I had knocked my girlfriend up, stolen my parent’s car, left the scene of an accident, and driven without a license, etc.

His response to all this was, “Son…. Have you been drinking tonight?”

When I told him no, he just laughed and told me to hop in his car. He didn’t search me, he didn’t cuff me, he didn’t even make me get into the back seat… As he drove me to the police station he talked to me about my girlfriend issues and explained to me that Luci was just faking the pregnancy to keep me from dumping her for Andrea.

“Oh… that makes sense I guess… I probably should have done some research before going on the run…”

Once at the police station he called my mom and told her to come pick me up. He did end up giving me some BS little charge about being a “Juvenile Runaway” but nothing ever came of that. I remember hearing him tell my mom that he thought I was "just a good kid having a really bad day". It was the only positive experience I’ve ever had with a police officer.

When I got home I found out that Moe had nearly had a nervous breakdown in my absence and that his Mom had actually gone to Luci’s house to try and confront her… depending on who you hear the story from the police may or may not have been called to the scene… gotta love Moe’s Mom.

To make matters worse, Andrea talked to my mom at some point and told her that I had been skipping school, having sex, and god only knows what else… she basically snitched on everything wrong I’d done since being in High School. It was my first lesson about the “wrath of a woman scorned.”

And of course, Luci wasn’t pregnant… We kept dating on and off for about a year in which she created two more false pregnancy scares. Let the record reflect that I have never dated a sane woman in my life. I’m not saying they don’t exist, I’m just saying I haven’t found one.

So there it is… My first confession. I’ll be posting my anonymous confession at some other time, with some other name, and you fuckers won’t even know it was me… hopefully…

Anyway, confess away Shower Farters! The last contest was a really great time and if everyone follows through with their double confessions this one could be even better.

I’ll be posting the nominations and awards show sometime late next week!

FITS Notes

2009-02-10T13:33:00.005-05:00

Two things I wanted to pass along… First, as you may have heard, the favorite band of all three FITS contributors announced that they were not only going out on a reunion tour this summer, but that they were already working on material for a new album!

Of course I’m speaking about Blink-182.

They made their announcement while presenting an award at the Grammy’s and although you can debate the tastefulness of upstaging the winners of the award they’re supposed to be presenting, there is no debating the fact that this is the best news I’ve had in months.

Like I said, Moe Greene, Mike So Def, and I all have a pretty creepy Blink obsession that can in no way be confused as healthy or normal behavior for adult males. When the 3 of us go on a road trip we always make sure there is a Blink mix-CD near by and ready to go. That in and of itself wouldn't be that bad, but it goes even deeper than that… We actually each have assigned seating and our own parts!

Mike sits in the back seat and beats the hell out of the drums/headrests as Travis Barker does... Moe is the driver (even though he gets a little paniced when he has to merge onto the beltway) and plays the role of bass and part-time lead vocalist Mark Hoppus... And I sit in the passenger seat where I give piss poor directions, play an excellent air-guitar, and do my best to recreate the nasal vocals of Tom Delonge. Our best song is probably “Man Overboard” which was the single they included on their live album “The Mark, Tom, and Travis Show.”

So to say we’re a little excited about this reunion would be an understatement on par with “the State of Mississippi is not thrilled about the Barack Obama era”, or “Alex Rodriguez is having a bad week.”

The second bit of news that I wanted to pass on is that due to popular demand (okay… Chancla’s demand… and it wasn’t really even a demand so much as a suggestion) the Sleazy Confession Awards are back!

I’m still ironing out some of the details but baring any unforeseen circumstances we’ll all start confessing next Tuesday (2/17) with the nominations and award show taking place sometime the week after that.

So start thinking about what you might want to confess and if you don’t have any material… well… You’ve just been given an entire week's notice to go out and commit embarrassing, shameful acts worthy of winning an award!

For now, lets go back and relive the original Confessions, and of course, the Award Show.

Destination... Uruguay!

2009-02-04T09:01:00.004-05:00

My fascination with dropping everything and disappearing to a foreign country goes as far back as the 7th grade when I suffered a life altering shoulder injury. Without getting into all the boring medical details, I dislocated my shoulder while playing football. The shoulder went right back into place and so even though it hurt like hell, I decided not to tell anyone because I had baseball tryouts coming up... While preparing for those baseball tryouts the injury reoccurred several more times. Finally when I could no longer lift my arm enough to put on my jacket I broke down and told my mom I needed to see a doctor.

I ended up in a sling for six months followed by another 3 months of physical therapy. To this day I can make my shoulder pop out of socket at will and if I lift my left arm above my head it makes a terrifying bone-on-bone cracking sound. I was never able to play baseball or football again and at 29 I'm already experiencing arthritis symptoms in that joint... Good times!

Anyway, during the 9 months of treatment I wasn't allowed to do anything remotely athletic. When everyone would go to gym class I had to hang out in the school library. And of course there was NEVER any other students there. It was just me and the retirement aged librarian lady. EVERY DAY!

I spent the first couple of weeks sneaking out and roaming the halls... Then when that got boring I was forced to take drastic measures and I started to actually read the books... Imagine that... One of my favorite things to do to pass the time was look up random countries in the library's various encyclopedias. I would come up with elaborate fantasies where I would criss-cross the globe, jumping from city to city like Carmen Sandiego. It was there that my disappearing dream began!

Over the years I have since narrowed down my selection to South American countries, eventually settling on Uruguay. I've written about this dream on a couple of occasions, but when I originally introduced the subject I even got a comment from Chanclita Divina (known at the time as Cracked Chancla) which laid out the perfect plan for what I could do when I got there:

"...i think i can see you owning some sort of bar and grill type of place out there. where one can get the coldest beers and biggest steaks made with local seasonings. you wouldn't do much in your restaurant, except give orders--but your employees would love you because you would be super charismatic when doing it--you would dress in guayaberas and walk around the place smiling and winking at all the pretty girls. moe would eventually forgive you and move out there to be with you. well, that's how it played out in my head."

That's pretty much the greatest non-Confession Awards comment ever written on this blog... it perfectly sums up the vision of what my Uruguay experience would be like... only now there is a problem... I no longer want to live in Uguguay.

First of all, the word has gotten out about what an underrated vacation spot it is. With all the increased tourism they've been seeing I probably wouldn't even be the only asshole in a guayabera walking around winking at the pretty girls!

The second issue is that their economy pretty much collapsed. That makes for cheaper hotel rates, but on the downside it means that their unemployment rate has skyrocketed. Basically the only option left for foreigners and ex-pats that want to work is to teach English to business men... yuck... That's not exactly the type of environment conducive to getting drunk and waking up in a hammock with a cute a waitress.

So this morning I decided to begin an exhaustive and thorough search process for a new destination. The new spot is Ecuador... Despite it's small size (wikipedia compares it to Colorado), it has 4 completely diferent geographic regions. There are the mountains of La Sierra, the jungles of La Oriente, the beaches of La Costa, and of course the Galápagos Islands... not bad.

I could spend hours photgraphing and exploring Inca ruins, or hours chatting up drunken college girls on the beach. But most importantly, according to Anywork Anywhere: "Jobs in the tourism industry are relatively easy to come by in popular tourist establishments. Jobs can be found bartending, hotel receptionist, managing a hotel, waiting tables, bike mechanic, or working at a travel agency. Often all that is required is the ability to speak English and Spanish."

That sounds like the kind of place where Chancla's restaurant vision for me could thrive! So anyway, I'm moving to ~~Uruguay~~ Ecuador and I thought I should let you all know.

Green Toe Moe

2009-01-29T10:18:00.002-05:00

I was a pretty complicated 10th grader… I had never really believed in homework and so my record of completing take home assignments had always been pretty sporadic. I use the term “didn’t believe in” not as nicer way of saying I was lazy and therefore didn’t want to do homework, but because it’s the most accurate description of the facts. I had a personal philosophy that conflicted with the idea that I should be forced to focus any of my free time on school assignments that I deemed to be “busy work”.

By the time I got to 10th grade I basically stopped doing class work as well. When the teacher was talking, I’d sit and listen, but that’s it. I wouldn’t actively participate unless the subject really interested me.

That decision, (along with some actually semi-legitimate concerns), landed me in therapy where it was decided that what I really needed, was Ritalin.

I had to take one pill in the morning before school, and one pill in the afternoon during lunch. Half the time I didn’t actually take the pills, I would just pretend to, but that’s another story… the point is, Moe Greene would always go with me to the nurses office at lunch to get my pill. He did this for two reasons [1] He had nothing else to do, and [2] we had a crush on the nurse.

This wasn’t the typical school nurse… She was only 22 or 23 years old, not that much older than we were at the time. She refused to let us call her by her last name. She was not "Ms. Thompson", she was just "Diane". And she didn’t talk to us like students either, she talked to us like friends. She told us about her weekend, (which usually consisted of bar hopping), dates she went on, and which students she thought were annoying.

Another reason we lusted after Diane was because she fit into the “attractive yet obtainable” category… She had blond hair, but with dark roots… She had beautiful green eyes, but her nose was a little big for her face… She had athletic legs and a shapely ass, but her chest was flat… She was nice to talk to, but she wasn’t terribly bright either… So like I said, she was attractive but her flaws (combined with her flirtatious nature) made us feel like we might actually be able to get somewhere with her.

We were smitten.

We would eat our lunches as fast as we could, then leave the cafeteria and go hang out at the nurse’s office with her. We’d over analyze every comment she made. We’d argue over who made her laugh more, and debate which one of us had a better shot at getting in her pants.

Since we didn’t really have any experience wooing an older woman, our attempts to make ourselves look cool basically consisted of trying to make each other look bad. Diane always enjoyed listening to us argue and make fun of each other, which only encouraged us. We quickly went from making fun of each other’s clothes to telling embarrassing stories.

Eventually things got a little out of hand and Moe crossed the line… He brought up the fact that I actually had a girlfriend and was therefore, not technically available.

“You have a girlfriend? You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend,” Diane responded in an accusatory tone.

That really pissed me off. I had to strike back… I decided to bring up the green fungus that had been growing on Moe’s big toenail for the better part of 3 months.

“Come on, let Diane have a look at it Moe, she’s a professional…”

Moe was, of course, horrified. He already had a phobia about taking his shoes off in public, so the idea of exposing his toe issues to the woman he was lusting after was down right unthinkable... He left the office in defeat. I won that round.

We both assumed that would be the end of the issue. He would never bring up my girlfriend again, and I would never bring up his toe fungus. But for whatever reason, Diane kept bringing it up. It was like the incident had suddenly turned on her “nurse” switch, and she started to act very professional around us.

She asked about it everyday. And everyday Moe would decline to let her look at it. Suddenly our informal flirtation sessions with Diane had become like a visit to the dentist.

Finally, Moe and I decided that he would have to just go ahead and let her look at his foot so we could get back to the way things were. The school year was almost over and we were running out of time to make any actual progress. So Moe relented. One day he pulled off his shoe, and peeled away his sock.

Diane’s reaction went something like this:

“Oh wow. You guys weren’t exaggerating, that is really, really…......... gross.”

She was visibly uncomfortable and didn’t want to touch his foot. At one point it looked like she might throw up.

“I think you need to see a doctor or some sort of specialist… I don’t know what that is…”

And that was pretty much how the relationship ended. The days of her flirting with us were over. It felt like we had somehow managed to sneak into this really cool adult night club, but now we’d been caught by the bouncers and thrown out.

Looking back on it now I can see it wasn’t just Moe’s toe fungus or my girlfriend that ruined what we had... When she flirted with us and we reacted by making fun of each other’s shoes, that probably only served as a reminder that even though there wasn’t that much age difference between us, there really actually was.

Of course… it’s a lot easier and a lot funnier to just blame Moe's disgusting toe fungus.

FILM VAULT TUESDAY

2009-01-27T09:38:00.013-05:00

As I’ve said before, my relationship with Film Vault Tuesday is pretty complicated… In the beginning I was full of enthusiasm and looked forward to writing it each week. So much so that I even created a master list of movies that I planned on using and the order in which I planned on using them (yeah I can be pretty ‘type-a’ sometimes).

But then people started to actually respond to what I was writing and new readers started to pop up. The site meter I had at the time indicated that the blog suddenly went from having roughly 10 people show up every Tuesday, to 50 or 60 people showing up every Tuesday… Now, 60 people isn’t a lot (and to be honest it was probably the same 25 or 30 people showing up twice a day), but it was enough to freak me out. Suddenly it felt like I had to write it every week, and as you know, nothing is fun when you have to do it.

So I stopped.

But the reflexes are still there. I’m like an old boxer who’s past his prime but keeps coming out of retirement every couple years to see if he’s still "got it". I’ll find myself sitting at home watching one of my favorite movies on TV and suddenly I’m ready to get back in the gym and start knocking around the heavy bag and training for my next big fight.

That’s what happened to me the other night as I was flipping through channels, looking for something to watch… Suddenly I see that one of my favorite underrated movies of all time is on TNT… Great… But then I notice that the little preview on the channel guide hass given unforgivable rating of only 2 stars to one of my All-Time Favorties! (to provide a context, "True Lies" with Governor Arnold and Jamie Lee Hermaphrodite was playing later that night and it got 3 stars)

That was all I needed… Cue the “Rocky” theme music, dig out the boxing gloves from the bottom of the closet, and put in your mouth piece… it’s time to go to war!

Title: Cast Away (2000)

Credits: Tom Hanks, Helen Hunt, and directed by Robert Zemeckis

Why?: For starters, it happens to be one of the most re-watchable movies ever. I’ve seen it at least a dozen times and yet when I saw that it was on TNT the other night I enthusiastically sat through it once again.

There are several reasons why it’s so re-watchable but let’s examine the main two:

[1] The story… Let’s face it; everyone loves the “trapped on a deserted island” theme. The idea, no matter many times its been done, or how implausible it is (although Cast Away does the best job any show or movie has ever done at making it plausible) simply fascinates us.

[2] Hanks’ performance… Of all of his memorable performances (Forrest Gump, Philadelphia, Saving Private Ryan, etc) he seems to get the least amount of credit for this role, but when you think about it, it could be his best… The movie is a little over 2 hours long, and for more than have of that time, he’s the only character. Think about that for a moment… He’s the only person on the screen… He has to keep you entertained, keep you emotionally attached, keep you updated on the story line, and the only one there to help him do that is “Wilson the Volleyball”!

Not to mention the fact that through the course of filming the movie he goes from this:

To this:

That is serious dedication to his character!

Forrest Gump is script driven. Tom throws out his "southern retard" voice and we follow him though a heart warming story of historical events and great music… Any of the upper echelon actors could have done it.

Philadelphia was a morality tale that made us re-examine our position on homosexuality, AIDS, and discrimination. Although Hanks does a fine job, an amazing job really, I think you could probably plug in Kevin Spacey, Robert Downey Jr, Sean Penn, or a half dozen other elite actors and get the same or similar results.

Saving Private Ryan to me would be his second best performance of this group. I can’t imagine anyone else matching his performance in the role, but at the same time, what makes this movie is as much the surrounding cast and the brilliant cinematography as Hanks’ performance.

But Cast Away is all Hanks. He owns this movie. He owns this role. Nobody else could have done it. Period. I will not argue about that.

Remote Scene Stopper: For me, once I’m in, I’m staying for the whole show… But if I had to say there was the one scene I couldn’t miss it would probably be the "plane crash/survival" scene.

First of all, plane crash scenes are fun… And I’ve mentioned it before but I just love the way they take something improbable (surviving a plane crash in the middle of the ocean and floating to an island on a raft) and make it feel plausible, even though its not. Nothing Hanks’ character does to survive the crash is superhuman or impossible. He just does the things a normal guy would have done in his situation and they make those actions somehow lead him to safety.

Tear Factor: “Wilson!!!!!! I’m so sorry Wilson!!!!!!!”

Overall Rating: My channel guide preview gave it 2 stars. IMDB viewers give it a 7.4. I’m giving it an 8.5 and to be perfectly honest, I had to talk myself down from a 9.0 just because it felt weird to have a rating that far off of IMDB.

It’s wildly entertaining. It has a remarkable performance by the defining actor of our generation. And if you still question that rating let me add that it also happens to be one of the greatest "discussion movies" of all time. As proof I ask you all to answer the following questions in the comments section [I'll be sure to put up my responses shortly, and yes, I am so obnoxious that I can't wait to answer my own questions]:

[1] Taking for granted that you survive the plane crash and land on the island, could you survive the 4 years Chuck spent on the island physically?

[2] Could you survive the fours year mentally?

[3] What food would you miss the most while on the island?

[4] What one item would you want to take with you on the island?

[5] What do you think of the way Kelly moved on with her life, got married, and popped out a kid while Chuck was on the island?

[6] What do you think becomes of Chuck and Kelly after the movie?

[7] Would you want to go back to the island a few years after the rescue to visit?

Back in Business

2009-01-21T07:44:00.010-05:00

Well as you can see, the new FITS blog looks a lot like the old one. For reasons beyond my control the new URL address will have to remain a dream... for now I'm just going to get back to my semi-regular schedule of pumping out 1-2 mediocre posts a week.

Without boring everyone with the details I'll just say that Chanclita Divina's husband, Mr. CD, was making a Wizard of Oz attempt to fix all of the technical issues behind the curtain last week. It was really nice of him to do and I suspect that he would have even been successful had he not been blocked by the evil, unethical, and tyrannical empire that is Blogger.

Basically, the folks at Blogger are bad people. I won't go so far as to call them pedophiles, but I will say that its probably not a good idea to trust them around your children and you damn sure can't count on them to forward your old URL address to your new one.*

In lighter news, one of the many, many people who used to bully Moe Greene back when we were in middle school was arrested for committing a series of armed robberies a couple weeks back. I meant to write about it at the time but it got put on the back burner when Blogger was in the process of touching my URL in a naughty, private place.

I'm sharing this story with all of you for two reasons. [1] Its kind of a tradition on this blog to post when one of our childhood bullies is arrested, and [2] this story comes with a mugshot, and you know how much I love a good mugshot:

You can read the entire story here if you want to, but the synopsis is that (in case you can't tell by the mugshot) life was really kicking his ass and he made some questionable decisions**

* I can neither confirm nor deny that blogger is at fault for my issues, just as I can neither confirm nor deny that employees of blogger should have an entire episode of "Law and Order: SVU" dedicated to their crimes.

** There is also a really interesting follow up piece talking about some of the difficulties that led Moe's bully to commit his armed robberies. The article is basically an interview with a friend of the accused (not Moe Greene obviously) who describes him as "not a bad guy" right before they mention his criminal history almost in passing. A record that includes:

"...operating a vehicle without restraining a child in May and second-degree assault in September... possession of marijuana and paraphernalia in 1998, hunting at night and during closed season in 2007, and several domestic violence incidents in 2007 and 2008 involving [his ex-wife], who was granted a protection order against him in October."

So yeah, other than all that stuff and the 3 armed robberies he "allegedly" committed, probably not a bad guy at all... I'm sure he'd fit right in with the good people at Blogger.

Technical Difficulties

2009-01-13T06:45:00.004-05:00

This new domain thing isn't really working out... According to blogger, my old address would still work and would redirect readers to fartingintheshower.com, only it turns out that they're liars. I swear I'm going to get back to normal posting at some point.

The Options

2009-01-12T09:05:00.004-05:00

There have been requests to see the other options I thought about using as the new blog header and here is what I have:

[1] The runner up to the current header IMHO:

[2] The one I had up for about 4 hours the other day:

[3] The old header minus the .blogspot:

[4] The current header:

Back to the Point

2009-01-08T12:27:00.001-05:00

From my journal, 1/6/09:

I’m sitting in the food court of Union Station right now finishing off a plate of over priced Chinese. This is one of my favorite spots in the city for people watching and I thought it would be an excellent place for me to write my first journal entry of 2009.

I was reading the blog entry I wrote a little over a year ago when I decided to start keeping this journal and it became apparent how far from the point I’ve strayed from my original intentions… not that I could explain exactly what those intentions were, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t to document my romantic longings for each and every girl that catches my eye- which is essentially what this journal has become… So with that thought in mind I decided to come to Union Station and jot down some of my brilliant prose and witty observations of passers by. The only problem is I’ve spent my entire time here eye fucking the bevy of attractive women that have all decided to make their lunch spot within distraction distance of my table.

In between bites of lo mein noodles I keep debating the strengths and weaknesses of potential conversation starters I could use on one of these ladies. I’m optimistic enough to contemplate what to say but pessimistic enough not to follow through on any of my ideas.

So much for changing the direction of this journal… Maybe next year.

News & Issue

2009-01-08T06:22:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I posted about some changes being made to FITS but due to technical difficulties I had to scrap everything last night and start from scratch this morning. But now we're good to go... I think.

Basically the changes are: [1] There is now a new option for the way you can get here. If you're tired of typing the cumbersome ".blogspot" into the URL, you don't have to anymore. You can now get here by simply typing: FartingInTheShower.com. Of course the old way still works just fine. Change [2] is the header obviously. I have a couple different options but this is the one I want to go with for now. Let me know what you think in the poll when you get a chance. I had a couple of crappier versions yesterday and Moe Greene was honest enough to let me know, "those new headers really suck" and I appreciate that.

I'll be back later today with normal posting.

Off to a Poor Start

2009-01-05T07:35:00.003-05:00

As I noted in my "looking back at the year" post last week, I started out 2008 with a really good post of rambling thoughts that ended up being the best post I wrote all year. The pride I have of writing that post is overshadowed by the shame of having the first thing I wrote in '08 also be the best thing I wrote. So I vowed that this year I would start things off with something crappy, that way I can show improvement as the year goes on... you know, as opposed to what happened last year where I showed um, deprovement or anti-provement.

I suppose if I really wanted to come up with something crappy I could post a bunch of New Year's Resolutions about eating healthier or saving money (god knows those are things I need to do*) but I prefer to ignore my problems... push them into the back of my mind and pretend they don't exist, not confront them head on with a public broadcasting of sensible solutions.

So no, there will be no Resolutions post. Instead I'm going to rant on about a topic that's been bothering me all morning but most likely will mean nothing to anyone else... the inauguration.

A lot of people have asked me if I plan on going since it will take place only a few short blocks away from my work. It will be historic, it will be memorable, it will be blah blah blah... You know what it's going to be? A big pain in the ass!

We're still two weeks away and tourists are already flocking into town and crowding my metro ride... and it's only going to get worse. Dozens of families from Kansas, Iowa, and Missouri, wandering aimlessly around the streets of DC searching for the Capitol Building on a map when if they would just look up they could see the fucking thing staring back down at them. (You can see the Capitol Building from just about anywhere in the city, just walk towards it!) They're going to stand motionless on the left side of the escalators, stop to make pleasant conversation in the middle of sidewalks, ask for directions, make left hand turns from the center lane, drive 40 mph on the beltway, and generally make my life miserable.

And the day of the inaugural is probably going to be cold, wet, and windy... Add in the fact that Monday the 19th (the day before the inaugural) is MLK day and there is 100% chance I'll be taking the day off and enjoying a 4 day weekend. So no, I won't be attending, and in fact I probably won't even leave the house that day.

*A couple weeks ago I was talking to Moe Greene on the phone as I was waiting in a KFC drive through. I told him to hold on when it was my turn to order and laid the phone on my lap. I ordered a chicken strip meal with a Pepsi, and as a side I ordered a "Potato Bowl". In case you're not familiar with it, the "Potato Bowl" is basically KFC's attempt to create a widespread epidemic of obesity across this nation. They take a bowl of mashed potatoes, and sprinkle a handful of corn on top. Next they pile on a layer of deep fried pieces of breaded chicken meat. After the chicken, they pour on an unhealthy dose of gravy, before finally topping the whole thing off with a large sprinkle of cheese! It's a meal in and of itself. If they really cared about their customers they would give you a free syringe full of insulin on the side.

So I ordered my chicken strips meal with a Pepsi, and the potato bowl... and the lady taking my order innocently asks "do you want anything to drink with the potato bowl?"

That's right ladies and gentlemen, a woman who works at the drive-through of a fast food restaurant everyday of her life (an expert in her field) assumed that one person could not possibly plan on consuming all that food on their own. There must have been a second person planning on sharing this concoction of death, hence the need for a second drink.

I responded with an embarrassed "no" and I could hear Moe Greene's cackling laughter coming from the phone. He had heard everything and immediately knew the implications of her asking if I wanted that second drink. He was still laughing minutes later when I got to the window to pay for the food.

As it turns out I actually couldn't consume all of the food in one sitting. I had to save two chicken strips and the accompanying potato wedges for the next day, but still, the fact that I attempted to eat at all says a lot more about my lifestyle than then whether or not I was actually able complete the act.

Click here to read about Moe Greene's hypocritical eating habits.

2008 FITS Review

2008-12-31T08:01:00.005-05:00

Even though it's obvious and predicable, I've decided that I should end this year with a look back at 2008 as it pertains to FITS. I've spent the better part of the last two hours skimming over everything I posted, searching for the highs and lows... I've found that there were plenty of lows, no shortage of crappy posts on this blog. I must admit that I cringed quite a few times and had to fight off the urge to go back and edit some things... but to my surprise, there were some really good posts as well. More than I had remembered actually. I realize I've been in a bit of a funk lately (by my estimation I've been putting out about one good post per month over the last quarter), but seeing some of my old stuff was proof that I am still moderately talented and can occasionally write something funny or inspired. Who knew?

Now... after giving myself that much needed pat on the back, I'm now going to have to be brutally honest and reveal a shameful fact: my best post of 2008 (the high point of the year) was actually the first post I wrote in January... It was called "An Un-Filtered Stream of... Something" and you can read it here.

As good as the post was, do you know how fucking depressing it is to know the best thing I wrote in '08 was also the first thing I wrote? Everything that followed was worse than that. [re-read that last sentence a couple of times to get the full depressing effect]

And to make things even more embarrassing, it wasn't even a post that I thought out! I didn't craft it in my journal first then transfer the best parts to the blog. There was no outline. I didn't re-write certain paragraphs over and over until it "felt good". I didn't agonize for an hour over the proper ending... I just sat down wrote whatever came to my mind.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed re-reading it and I'm proud to say I wrote it but as I clicked through page after page of 2008 blog entries I kept hoping I would come across something better, and it never happened. The closest I could come was this post in June, but I couldn't honestly say it was any better. So in a way, you could argue that my high point of the year (as far as the blog is concerned) was in a way, also the low point.

Then again, a good case can be made for September being the low point as well. "Mike So Def" actually wrote the best and most thought provoking post of the month and I submitted nothing but filler. Really, had it not been for Mike that would have been the worst month in the history of this blog since "the dark period".

I should also note my disappointment that in May I came up with a pretty good idea to post the details of famous mysteries and then have everyone create their own theories as to what really happened. It started out really well with the mystery of the missing judge, but for some reason I never trotted out another mystery. Maybe the idea will resurface in '09.

I am sure of one thing though, I plan on starting the year off with a forgettable post. I will not my high point be my low point for two straight years!

The Queen of the Mall

2008-12-24T06:56:00.003-05:00

I suppose my first mistake (aside from going to the mall in the first place, or putting off my Christmas shopping until the last minute) was going to the toy store first... I had to buy gifts for two of my little cousins. My thinking was that those would be the easiest gifts to pick out so I would start there. And as it turns out I was right. One Buzz Lightyear and one Sheriff Woody action figure. Done. Just like I had planned.

What I wasn't counting on however was that ever time the bag I was carrying the toys in would brush against anything the Buzz Lightyear would go off and announce to anyone standing near by that he was headed "To infinity and beyond!"

The first time it was funny. It became a mild annoyance when I was walking through the mall. But once I got to the jewelry store and started trying to shop for my wife, it got down right embarrassing.

"Excuse me miss, I was wondering if you could show me that earring and necklace set right over- [TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!] there..."

I was trying to be serious and make an expensive decision on jewelry, and every few seconds Buzz had to interrupt.

But things would only get worse from there... The lady at the jewelry store was named 'Reina'. For those of you who aren't bilingual, 'Reina' means 'Queen' in Spanish. Its a fairly common name, but its a little too grandiose for my tastes... Oh look, here we have a real Queen in the flesh, and of course, where else would you expect to find a Queen but working at a jewelry place in the mall for $9/hour... I don't know if its my negative attitude towards the name or just pure coincidence, but I've also never had a good experience with a woman who has this name.

Anyway, the "Queen" was for the most part plesant and in her mid 40's... She was professional and helpful during the process, but I could tell that Buzz Lightyear's antics were starting to get on her nerves. No matter how I tried to re-arrange the bag, Buzz just couldn't be silenced. There was nothing to do but ignore him and focus on the matter at hand... "Queen" showed me a dozen different pieces of jewelry. None of them had prices on them, so every time I liked something she would have to go into the back to check. Invariably, each time she would come back and say "oh what luck, this one is on sale" and then she would give me a price that seemed to very contrary to the spirit of the whole "sale" theme.

But of course it was too late in the shopping season to be picky so I settled on something I thought Morena would like and had the Queen wrap it up. As she did this she began making small talk. She asked what the weather was like outside, if it was dark yet, what road conditions were like, and how the traffic was... All of this led me to assume she was about to get off work and was trying to gauge what kind of commute she was facing.

"About to get off work?" I asked as she handed over the bag with my gift.

She froze and gave me a cold hard stare... I got the sense that I had done something wrong. Was there something wrong with my question?

"Aren't you married?" she asked. It was more of an accusation than a question. Her tone was clearly offended.

Now I'm not a perfect husband. I hit on other women, I flirt, I have wandering eyes... but I do have some standards. For instance, I would never hit on a 45 year old woman who is mildly attractive at best while I'm shopping for my wife, even if she is a 'Queen'!

I walked away angry thinking "that's another bad 'Reina' experience I can add to my list," and of course Buzz was still pulling his antics. With not nearly all of my shopping done, I decided it was time to go. I still have a little bit of time left, and the grocery store across the street from my house sells gift cards from just about every store on the planet. If my family doesn't approve of the lack of creativity in this years gifts they can blame Buzz Lightyear and the Queen of the Mall Jewelry Store.

The New Year Purse Snatcher

2008-12-18T12:26:00.003-05:00

I was talking with a friend the other day and the subject turned to New Year’s Eve, or more specifically, the worst New Year’s Eve experiences we’ve ever had. For me that’s easy; it was 2002. Hands down. No debate. Nothing else comes close.

I was right smack in the middle of the worst breakup of my life. I’ve written about it here on the blog before, but I don’t think I’ve ever explained how the whole situation was impacted by one really bad New Year's celebration. Against my better judgment, I’m going to do that now.

We were in one of those strange relationship periods that only make sense at the time. Technically we were broken up, but we were still seeing each other. We were still presenting ourselves as a couple, and although we agreed that we weren’t actually together, there was kind of an unspoken agreement that we wouldn’t see anybody else… Of course, I actually did begin seeing someone else... and as those things tend to work, my guilt somehow led me to be suspicious of her.

At the time, I was living in Baltimore with a friend. This roommate was also going through a nasty breakup of his own. We hadn’t really been getting along anyway, so I didn’t want to spend New Year’s Eve alone in the apartment with him. It would be too boring… Too awkward… Too depressing.

I was hoping to go out with my girlfriend that night despite all of the issues we were having. I don’t recall specifically, but perhaps I thought that spending a special New Year’s together would help fix things… Those plans were nixed howeber, when she told me she was staying home to watch her sister’s kids.

Again, it’s important to keep in mind that I had been growing very suspicious… I had been checking her cell phone whenever she wasn’t looking. Asking and re-asking the same questions to try and catch her in a lie. Calling at odd hours to see how she reacted. I was insane.

I did find some evidence to suggest that maybe something was going on... but with all the crap going through my head, I couldn't really be sure if my suspicions were valid or if my guilty conscience was playing with my head.

On the day before New Year’s Eve she told me she needed to get her hair done. I gave her money to do it, but my immediate reaction was to ask myself: “Why does she need to get her hair done if she’s not going out?”

It ate at me the next two days. I asked her over and over again if she was sure she wasn’t going out… she repeatedly assured me that she would be at home watching her sister's kids. She couldn’t go out, and I was going to have to be on my own for New Year’s.

So there I was, out of options, no where to go, drinking in my apartment with my depressed roommate... This was exactly where I didn’t want to be… and of course, I was still wondering about my girl friend. I kept playing over the scenario of things that had been happening between us over and over agan. Each time I did this, I kept coming back to the same conclusion:

“She just got her hair done, of course she’s going out!”

I decided I had to know for sure. I convinced my roommate to go with me. It was about an hour drive and we were already half drunk. When we got there, her car was no where to be found. I finally had my answer; she had lied.

But now that wasn't enough. I suddenly felt the need to actually find her. We drove around the streets of DC, going from club to club, in search of her car. At some point we stopped at a liquor store. We kept drinking. We kept looking. We kept drinking. We kept looking... We found nothing.

During the search, my roommate --a notorious drunk dialer-- decided he needed to call his ex, the girl who had just dumped him. I was too caught up in my own madness to talk him out of it. Predictably, the call didn’t go well and he started crying... This only made me angrier.

So there we were, driving around DC. I was drunk and angry. He was drunk and emotional. And to make matters worse, he tells me he needs to puke. I ended up pulling over into some dark parking lot where he spent 15 minutes throwing up as he wept.

I decided to take him home… Another hour long drive back to Baltimore. The clock struck midnight just as we were pulling into the parking lot of our apartment building.

Happy New Year!

I should have just crashed in my bed and slept it off, but I was still angry. I let him out of the car and turned back around… another hour long drive back to DC. The new plan was to wait outside my girlfriend’s house to see her come home and confront her.

I sat in my car across the street like some sort of pyscho and I waited… and waited… and waited… My drunkenness was starting to wear off and I could feel the hangover setting in. Finally, just as I was about to fall asleep, she came home.

My heart was racing. As she got out of her car I crossed the street with a purpose. The adrenaline had me re-focused and sober. I don’t remember how I confronted her. Did she see me walking over? Did I walk up behind her and grab her arm? Did I yell something to make her turn around and see me? All I remember is that she was shocked.

At first she tried to give me some lame excuse about going to drop her sister’s kids off, but she was all dressed up, she smelled like alcohol… and of course, her hair looked great!

Then, as if out of some sort of movie, she opened her car door to get her purse and a beer bottle fell out of the car and rolled onto the driveway. Despite the circumstances I had honestly been trying to keep my calm during this confrontation, but that set me off. The beer bottle had actually rolled right to my feet... I picked it up, stared at it for a second, (it was an un-opened Heineken, still cold) and then threw it back down onto the driveway as hard as I could. With a dull pop, it shattered spraying glass and beer all over the leg of my jeans.

I looked up at her… she was afraid to speak… clutching the purse in her hands… My eyes focused on the purse. For whatever reason, I thought there might be some evidence of her indiscretion inside. I wanted desperately to search through the purses contents for some sort of smoking gun clue of another guy… A phone number, condoms, a picture, a letter, anything… Instinctively, I snatched the purse from her hands.

When I did that, she started screaming expletives. This only seemed to confirm my suspicions that there was something she didn’t want me to find in the bag. At that point I did what any rational human being would have done... I ran away with the purse!

With her still screaming obscenities at me I got back to my car and sped away. And of course, since she was just as crazy as I was, she chased me in her car.

The sun was just beginning to come up and luckily there were no cars on the road as we sped through red lights. I began to rummage through the purse as I drove and she followed close behind… There was nothing to find… Of course that didn’t mean that she hadn’t cheated, just that I couldn’t prove it.

Frustrated and worried that some cop would see us in our high speed pursuit, I finally decided to pull into a gas station and give up. She pulled in behind me. As she approached the car I noticed, once again, how nice her hair looked... I paid for that hair… So she could go out… And probably with some other guy…

I reached back into the purse one last time and grabbed the cash…$80. Not quite the amount I had paid for her hair to get done, but close enough. I rolled down the window and threw the purse at her. It landed at her feet and I’m sure she yelled a few more choice words at me as I pulled off.

A minute later I was back on the highway for one last hour long drive back to Baltimore.

I don’t remember how long it took before we spoke again, but I think it was only a couple of days later. Believe it or not we actually kept seeing each other for a couple weeks after that, but we both knew it was over. She refused to admit that she had gone out with another guy that night (or that she had gone out at all!) and I refused to admit I had swiped her $80.

The absurdity of the lies seemed to cancel each other out.

To recap the entire incident, I spent at least 4 hours traveling back and forth between Baltimore and DC, I drank way too much, I watched my roommate throw up, and cry, I confirmed that my girlfriend was just as devious as me, I ruined a pair of jeans, I stole a purse, and I had a high speed car chase… Even though I did recoup the extra $80, it was still by far the worst New Year of my life.

How about you guys? Have any New Year's horror stories?

Sweaty Christmas

2008-12-15T10:46:00.000-05:00

The guy in the office next to me, "Jerry", the one who jerked off (allegedly) to Tony Toni Tone, is blasting an R&B Christmas CD right now... Babyface, Keith Sweat, and Boyz II Men are prominently involved, which is bad enough on its own, but we just heard a TLC song called "Sleigh Ride" complete with a Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes rap in the middle... Not good times... The volume is so loud that I had to walk outside to make a phone call!

The proper thing to do here would be to go to politely ask him to turn it down, but the thermostat for our office is in his room and he has a long history of turning the heat all the way up, locking his door, and leaving for the day. He's really passive aggressive like that.

Anyway, I was thinking about a way I could suggest the volume adjustment to him in a way that wouldn't offend him, when "Dan" the ex-military and walking angry white man stereotype decided it to storm into "Jerry's" office and say "if you want to have your little hip-hop Christmas in your office that's fine, but I don't want to have to hear all this 'yo' music when I'm on the phone!"

Gulp... Looks like I can look forward to a week of an oppressive heater and sweaty feet.

How Many Years Do You Have?

2008-12-12T08:37:00.004-05:00

Today is my wife Morena's birthday...

It's not polite to reveal a woman's age, but even if I wanted to, I couldn't. Despite the fact that we've been married for nearly five years now (that's like, half a decade!) I still don't really know how old she is.

When we first met she told me an age, and then a couple weeks later she must have forgotten what she told me the first time and told me something different. She somehow got younger in a week! Later on I saw an ID and saw a completely different age from the other two... and entire DOB was listed wrong.

As it turns out, El Salvador had some law that when a child was born the parents had a certain amount of time to register the birth with the government or they'd have to pay an excessive penalty fee when they finally got around to filing the paper work. The only problem was, if you lived way out in the country in a poor town where almost nobody had a car, it wasn't so easy to travel all the way into the city to get that done... Parents were faced with a decision, either give the correct DOB and pay the fine, or lie about the DOB and pay nothing extra. As a result, almost everyone from my wife's town has an official DOB that is wildly inaccurate... So was she born on 12/12/76, or 2/1/77, or was it something entirely different?

I don't know, she doesn't know, her dad (the one who did the registration) passed away like 10 years ago, and her mom had 13 kids so she doesn't recall the specifics either... So basically, trying to determine my wife's age is like trying to figure out the correct age of a Dominican shortstop.

But regardless of accuracy, this is the designated day we celebrate. So happy birthday Morenita... You pick my dirty socks up off the floor and toss them in the hamper, you always remember where I left my keys, and when I fall asleep on the couch watching TV I somehow wake up wrapped in a blanket with a soft pillow resting beneath my head... And for that, you deserve to have the best 3_th birthday anyone has ever had!

Larry From Three's Company is Spending Your Tax Money

2008-12-10T10:54:00.005-05:00

Right now in the conference room down the hallway from me, the government organization I'm working for is about to award a fairly substancial sum of money to a contractor who's wearing a dress shirt (no tie) with the top two buttons undone, and a gold chain is dangling in his chest hair. He also may or may not have hair plugs, I couldn't get a close enough look to confirm. Regardless, there is something going on with his hair line... I thought you might want to know that.

It's Okay... I Guess...

2008-12-05T07:23:00.004-05:00

Earlier in the week I stumbled across a stack of old CDs that I had put away and forgotten about some time ago. Most of them were crap which is why they had been forgotten about in the first place, but one CD stood out.

It's a CD Moe Greene made for me back when we still worked together and it says a lot about Moe... I'm actually not really sure what it says about him, but it says something.

The CD is "The Best of Sam Cooke... According to Moe Greene."

When he made it I had just purchased my first Mp3 player from a crackhead in a parking lot and I was itching to put some songs on it. Moe, always helpful, started to burn songs from his work computer onto CDs so that I could then rip them to my computer and transfer them to my new mP3 player... At some point he decided to make the Sam Cooke CD, and he was really excited about it.

"I love Sam Cooke," he enthusiastically said as he handed the CD over.

I slid it into the computer and pressed play... "Cupid"... "Summertime"... "Wonderful World"... "Shake"... "Twistin' the Night Away"... and of course, Moe's favorite, "Chain Gang"... There were a couple of other throw away songs mixed in... It was a decent CD.

But of course, as I skipped from track to track I kept waiting to hear the Sam Cooke song... the heartbreaking orchestra intro, the soulful voice overflowing with pain and struggle. And that magical first line, "I was boooooooooooorn by the river..."

Of course I'm talking about "A Change is Gonna Come"... Cooke recorded the song a few months before his tragic death in 1964. Up until that point Cooke had made strictly pop songs. Safe and uncontroversial... But a few things happened to inspire him to write the song that would be come to be known as "the anthem of the Civil Rights Movement."

First, he was inspired by Bob Dylan's own segregation protest song, "Blowin' in the Wind"... Second, his son died in a drowning accident... and finally, Third, he was arrested while on tour with his band in Louisiana for trying to register at a "White's Only" hotel.

So there he was, inspired, heart broken, and pissed off... The result was, for my money, one of the best 3 or 4 songs ever recorded. No one, and I mean NO ONE, has ever sang their hearts out on a song the way Sam did on "A Change is Gonna Come".

You feel the depth of his pain: "It's been too hard livin', but I'm afraid to die, cause I don't know what's up there, beyond the sky" and yet a glimmer of hope and optimism: "Oh there been times I thought I couldn't last for long, but now I think I'm able to carry on."

This is a black man, born in Mississippi, during the depression, raised on the streets of Chicago... He's been singing happy pop songs for white kids to dance to for a decade, but now the 60's are here and damn it, "It's been a long, long time coming, but I know, a change is gonna come!"

And yet somehow Moe Greene doesn't even think to put the song on his "Best of Sam Cooke" CD!!!!

"How could you NOT have this CD finish up with 'A Change is Gonna Come'"?! I questioned him.

"I don't know..." he replied.

"Don't you like the song?"

"It's okay... I guess..."

I don't care if he wasn't born until 1981, as far as I'm concerned, Moe Greene killed Sam Cooke.

The Pineapple Cold Killer

2008-12-03T09:13:00.005-05:00

I've been fighting off a cold for a little over a week now. It started last Sunday morning when I woke up with a sore throat and a headache. From there it got worse, then better, and then worse again. The low point was last Friday, the day after Thanksgiving when I totally lost my voice. It's been getting a little better every day since then and the soreness is basically gone... Only now I have a really nasty cough developing!

So last night I decided to take drastic measures... I'm behind at work, and in school I have 2 major reports due this week and a final to prep for. I just can't be hampered with this cold right now. I decided the best course of action would be to try and kill this cough right now with a massive wave of over the counter cold medications. The mix I came up with will be from this point on known as "The Pineapple Cold Killer".

I should start by giving you some background... A few weeks ago my wife brought home some pineapple flavored soda because it was on sale. It sounded nasty to me so I avoided it for several days until it was basically the only thing left to drink. Out of options, I broke down and tried it. And it was great! I'm addicted. I can't stop drinking the stuff.

We've also had some left over pineapple flavored rum I haven't been able to get rid of from a Sangria experiment that went bad a couple months back. Well last night I decided I would mix the two together and throw in a shot of grape cough syrup just for the hell of it. I used the drink to wash down 3 NyQuil gel capsules.

So if you're keeping score at home "The Pineapple Cold Killer" recipe looks like this:

-Approximately 2 cups of Pineapple Soda
-1 very generous shot of Pineapple Rum
-1 dose of grape cough syrup
-3 NyQuil pills (the box recommends 2, but I'm looking for results here so fuck recommendations)

After chugging the whole thing down (it tasted pretty damn good) I got into bed to watch some TV and unwind a bit while I waited for the "Pineapple Cold Killer" to take affect. I looked at the clock. It read 8:52 pm. I decided my final move would be to lather my chest with a layer of Vick's Vapor rub just to really top things off...

But it never happened. 7 and a half hours later my wife was shaking me to wake up because my alarm had been going off for 20 minutes and I hadn't even noticed... She claims that when she came to bed last she found me with the unopened bottle of Vick's in my hand, my cell phone resting on my stomach, and all the blankets mysteriously lying in the floor!

When I finally managed to crawl out of bed and walk to the shower it felt like I had just stepped off a merry-go-round. I was dizzy, off balance, and slightly disoriented. Even 20 minutes after my shower I was still pretty groggy... But, for the most part, "The Pineapple Cold Killer" worked! I can breathe through my nose. My throat isn't sore. My voice is back. And the cough is more or less under control! I feel like a new man.

Was it safe for me to drive my car to the Metro parking garage this morning?

Probably not...

Was it healthy to take all that medicine?

I doubt it...

Will I try "The Pineapple Cold Killer" again the next time I have a really bad cold?

AB-SO-LUTELY!*

*I'll probably make sure I have at least 9 hours to sleep it off next time... and maybe that 3rd NyQuil pill was a bit unnecessary. But it's tough to argue with results!

Why Aren't You Miserable?

2008-11-26T08:03:00.002-05:00

So Monday morning I was checking my email and low and behold I have a message from "Monica", my first ever real girlfriend... my high school "sweetheart"... the girl who took my virginity... the girl that once caused me to steal my parents car and run away from home (long story)... the girl I recently wrote about here.

I haven't heard from, or heard about "Monica" in nearly a decade... As I explained in the above referenced post, when we parted ways "Monica" basically hated me. Now here she was trying to contact me... the guy she hated.

To make a long story short, I responded to her email, and we did some catching up. She lives far, far away. She's happily married. She has a kid. A good job. Her life is beautiful... We got to set the record straight on a few things, do some apologizing, and a little reminiscing... This is all wonderful news of course... Except for one small thing...

Her happiness really pisses me off.

Yeah sure, part of me is genuinely happy for her. I'm happy with my life, she should be happy with hers. She deserves that much. She was and is a good person.

But there is a another part of me, the part that is still an immature teenager, that wants to hear that her life is terribly fucked up... that she never got over me... that after we went our separate ways she was hit with nothing but misfortune and hard luck... that she had to turn to pills and booze to try and numb the pain of losing me... that she's still in therapy trying to put the pieces back together... that I left a permanent scar on her psyche, damn it!

But no... there she is in pictures, looking as good as she did in high school, smiling, taking her kid out for his first Halloween experience. And of course the little fucker is cute as hell. I'm not one of those people that think all babies are cute, but even I have to admit that this kid is cute.

She wouldn't even give me the satisfaction of admitting that she's thought about me over the years! When I asked what made her look me up after all this time she gave me this crap about how she hadn't even thought about me in years but she was on a certain social networking website related to high school, looking for someone else when she found Moe Greene's profile, which led her to my profile... so it was all just a big accident really...Basically, "you didn't mean shit"... but you know, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Father Knows Best

2008-11-21T06:41:00.005-05:00

In the comments section of my last post I was able to give out some of my dad's favorite gems of wisdom on women and dating. It was blatantly offensive but as Lauren pointed out, "held a terrifying amount of truth" to it. It got me thinking about all of the other advice he's repeated to me and anyone else who would listen over the years. It's not the typical advice you'd expect to get from a father of course, but then again, I don't have the typical father. I'll warn you right now, some of it is offensive... most of it works... and all of it has been repeated to me ever since I was a kid.

So here's the list, I started with the one on dating that came up in the previous post:

1. Treat a 'lady' like a 'whore' and a 'whore' like a 'lady'.

2. ALWAYS ask for a lawyer, no matter what!

3. NEVER take the breathalyzer!

4. A good lawyer can get you out of ANYTHING! (sort of related to #2, but not exactly the same]

5. If you're driving drunk the key is to stay in your lane and drive 5 miles an hour over the limit. If you drive at the limit or just under it's a dead giveaway.

6. [an extension of #5] If you've got anything illegal in your car it's a good idea to take a quick stroll around the car before your trip and make sure no lights are broken and that they're all functioning properly.

7. Never quit a job or a woman unless you've already got something else lined up.

8. Always keep a girl with low self esteem on the side that you can call up at 2 a.m. and say "I'm coming over" in case you're real date doesn't end the way you had hoped.

9. Always go for the quiet girl.

10. If walk up to 100 women and tell them directly that you want to take them back to your place and have sex, 99 will probably slap you in the face... but there will always be that one that says "let's go". *

11. There are no rules in a fight and no such thing as a cheap shot.

12. If you're ever out numbered in a fight, act crazy. People are afraid of crazy.

13. Drive away like nothing happened.

14. NEVER confess.

15. Never trust someone who's eyes are too close together.

16. Stay away from people who have a "Napoleon Complex".

17. It's easier to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission.**

18. Never lie to your doctor or lawyer.***

* I spoke to my dad about this and he insists that the ratio is 1 out of every 10 will say "let's go"... He might be right, but to me the importance of the advice is to always play the law of averages... It's all about keeping hope alive in the face of failures. What can I say, my Dad is one inspirational dude.

**This is one of my personal favorites... It took me a while to really get it, but it works on so many levels. Yeah obviously it means just do what you want and then deal with the consequences later, but its much deeper than that... If you ask someone for permission you're empowering them. There is a good chance they might say 'no' just because they can say 'no'. And then of course, if someone tells you 'no' and then you defy them, they're less likely to ever forgive or pardon your indiscretion... Example:

Me: Hey when I'm house sitting for you next week do you care if me and some friends have a couple of strippers come to the house for a little party?

Moe: No way, my wife would freak out if she ever found out I let you did that.

Now I'm screwed. No party. No strippers. And if I ignore him and do it anyway he'll never let me house sit again and might not talk to me for a couple of weeks. Plus now he knows to check the basement to see if I accidentally left any empty beer bottles, discarded cigar tobacco, or condom wrappers. Not cool.

But, in my Dad's scenario, I never say shit to Moe... I have the party, good times are had by all. Everyone goes home happy. Then when Moe gets back:

Me: Moe, I hope you don't mind but while you were gone I had some friends come over with some strippers and we had a little party. But everything went okay.

Moe: Well I wish you had asked me first, but thank god everything went okay.

See... That scenario is much nicer. Plus, now he's part of the conspiracy. Now when he goes down to his basement to check for evidence it will be to help me get away with it rather than catch me in a lie!

***Lawyers are a really prominently involved in all of my Dad's advice... If you ever need a lawyer, ask my Dad to hook you up.

Shocking Discovery

2008-11-18T11:58:00.005-05:00

My train ride home yesterday included two notable sightings. The first one was shocking, and the second one woulf prove to be thought provoking.

The shocking discovery came at the Takoma stop on the Red Line... I name the stop knowing full well that many of you may not be familiar with it, but damn it, this discovery needs to be properly documented... which is why I'm including this Metro Rail Map below:

Okay, so like I was saying... I'm on the train. We're stopped at the Takoma Station. Just as the doors are about to close I spot a mid twenties white male with............. wait for it.............. a long... bleached blond... RAT'S TAIL!

The rat's tail went to about mid back, and I dare say it rivaled the great Jordan Knight rat's tail of "New Kids on the Block" fame.*

I tried to snap a picture with my iPhone but before I could manage to get "the subject" in focus he was already getting on the escalator.

Had I had the proper amount of time to prepare for the encounter I would have chased him down, tackled him, stuck him with a syringe full of sedatives, photographed him, and of course placed small tracking device in his ear so scientists could track his movements. Alas, I was caught off guard and let you all down. I doubt I'll have the fortune to come across the subject again today, but if I do, I'll be prepared.

The second discovery technically happened in the Glenmont parking garage but I first spotted the couple as we were getting off of the train. The guy was probably around my age, mid-to-late 20's... His companion was a tall, rather plain looking young lady who was slightly younger... late teens to early 20's.

They were walking hand-in-hand a few feet in front of me as we walked towards the garage. I got the sense (because of the hand holding and the way they were dressed) that they were on a lunch date. Once in the garage they approached an old beat up Toyota Corrolla.

The guy walked with girl around the car and opened her passenger door for her. Since it was an older car there was no keyless entry or power locks... I knew right away that the guy was giving his date "The Car Door Test", so I stopped at a safe distance to watch... for those of you unfamiliar with the test, it goes like this: you walk your date to the passenger side door and open it for her (you know as all true gentlemen should do before they've gotten to go to bed with the girl). Then you take your time walking around to the driver's side of the car. If the girl leans over to unlock your door you know you have a potential keeper... But, if she just sits there while you go through the routine of pulling out your key, sliding it into the lock, and opening the door on your own, then you know she's a self centered, high maintenance, cold hearted, wench.

Unfortunatley for the guy in this case, the girl turned out to be the latter. Even from a distance I could see the disappointment on his face as he swung open his door. As painful as it probably was for him, its better to find out she's evil now than 6 months from now.

The old "Car Door Test" has been around forever. I remember my dad telling me about it when I first got my learner's permit and I'm sure his father probably passed it down to him. I've used it on many occaions, but of course, I've never actually decided not to continue dating a girl simply because she didn't pass the test... but my experience has been that it's proven to be pretty damn accurate in just about every relationship I've ever had.**

It got me thinking, what are some of the personal "date tests" that you use? Have you ever used the "car door" test? And finally, since just about every new car being produced now has keyless entry, what will be the next reliable date test?

*I'll be willing to accept that NKOTB have reunited and are putting out new material as long as Jordan can agree to grow back that rat's tail... I don't think I'm asking too much here.

**In case you're wondering, Morena passed the test with flying colors. In fact, not only did she lean over and unlock the door, but she actually pulled the handle and pushed open the door for me... as many points she earned for that, it's offset by the fact that she pretended to love to cook for weeks until I moved in with her and discovered she was lazy. When we were dating every meal was accompanied with fresh, hand made tortillas. Since we got married I only get that maybe two or three times a year.

***There was once a girl that I had such a crush on that I actually told her about the "car door test" before we even went on our date. I was hoping that I could essentially cheat the test in her/my favor... Of course when the big date came she completely forgot about my warning and blew the test completely. It was like I warned her that there would be a pop quiz the next day and yet she never bothered to study. Failing the test under normal circumstances is bad enough, but to do so after being warned is just abominable.

I should have dropped her off at her house immediately, erased her number from my phone, and avoided her like the plague... but instead I decided to sink two years of my life into a relationship with her. But I'm not bitter about it though because it taught me a valuable lesson. Which is of course, that there is a direct correlation between my propensity to make poor decision and the shapeliness of the girl's ass I'm trying to woo.

How Much?

2008-11-14T06:33:00.004-05:00

Why is that when you call in a delivery order with a Chinese restaurant that they always try to end the conversation before giving you the total? I won't say that all Chinese places do this, but the total is easily over 90%... and that doesn't happen when I order pizza, or wings, or any other delivery place, only Chinese. There is a Chinese place down the street from me that I call once every week or so, and I've had to train myself to quickly say "HowMuchIsThatGoingToBe?" before the woman who takes the orders can hang up the phone.

I've recently discovered, accidentally, that you can take a picture of someone with an iPhone really easily without them realizing it... but what do I do with this power? I've thought about taking pictures of my train crushes to share with the blog, but that would make me a creepy guy taking pictures of women on the metro, and I don't want to be "that guy".

Morena and I were watching the red carpet coverage of the Latin Grammys last night and everything is going as expected when all of a sudden Kenny G shows up... You read tha right, Kenny G! It easily landed in the All-Time Top 25 "WTF" Moments of my lifetime.

There was no explanation given by the announcers. They're reaction translated was basically "look there's Kenny G... [insert awkward pause]..." and then Kenny stood there, alone on the red carpet, holding his saxophone case, and with no reporters within 50 feet of him. I did a quick wikipedia search thinking I would find out the 'G' really stood for Gonzalez, or that maybe he was the illegitimate father of Julieta Venegas or something... but no... nothing...

So Happy I'm Afraid

2008-11-10T13:16:00.003-05:00

I realize I've been a bit lazy here of late. My blog output has been dropping and for that I apologize.

Apparently there was some kind of election or something last week. It was all over the news. You probably heard about. They even mentioned it on ESPN.

I haven't really mentioned it because [a] I'm lazy and, like I said, haven't been blogging that much, and [b] I really don't know what I could add to the discussion. I always find it interesting when random people feel the need to give their opinion on topics outside their expertise. (my expertise of course being unhealthy crushes on women who ride the metro with me, cleavage obsession, and greasy fast food). I don't know why anyone would want to hear me regurgitate the same things being said on a million other blogs across the country... But since the public (Hector) has been so insistent on me sharing my thoughts, I'll at least say this:

I'm very excited and optimistic, but at the same time I'm a little scared as well. This is the closest I've ever come to trusting a politician with my hopes and dreams. It feels an awful lot like that moment right after you've told a girl "I love you" for the first time and you're just waiting for her to say "I love you too".

Beyond that, I do know what I could say that hasn't already been said by bloggers that are far more eloquent and far more informed than me. So anyway, I'm going to start putting more effort into the blog again, and I'm glad Obama won the election.

Something Special In My Pants

2008-10-28T07:05:00.013-04:00

Well its been 10 days since I got back from El Salvador and I'm just now starting to feel normal again. That first week was really tough. Every morning I would wake up to my alarm, lay in bed staring at the ceiling, and talk myself into getting up to start my day. Since coming back to my old job in May of 2006 I have called in sick exactly ZERO times, and yet every single day last week I came alarmingly close to breaking my streak.

So what is the healthy thing to do when you find yourself fighting off the start of a depression?

Why of course, its to go out and buy unnecessary, over priced, flashy, consumer goods!

That's right... I decided the best cure for my aching soul was to buy a 16 gb 3G iPhone:

[cute and curvy British girl not included... sadly]

Sure some might have suggested that I share my feelings with a friend, seek therapy, or gasp, talk to my wife... but those people would be wrong. Whats always worked best for me is to feed my need for instant gratification!

Technically I did kinda-sorta need a new cellphone, but considering I just bought an 80 gb iPod classic less than a year ago, it was hard --even for me-- to justify such an extravagant purchase... until my mini-depression that is.

So far I'm pretty impressed... My fear was always that because the iPhone tries to be so many different things, that it wouldn't be able to do any one thing exceptionally well. I didn't want to be stuck with a below average phone, a below average PDA, and a below average iPod, just because they could all be conveniently packaged together into one over-priced product.

But after spending about a week with the iPhone I can confirm that this is not the case. It took me a while to get comfortable with the all the quirks and nuances, but now that I've got it all figured out I couldn't be happier with my purchase. My iPod Classic hasn't been touched in days and now that I've got most of my music transferred over, I think I'll be passing it down to my wife.

The only thing left for me to do now is come up with a name... The iPod Classic was named "Pachanga" which is like a small party or get together in Spanish, and also the name of one my favorite supporting characters in Carlito's Way.

So far the only potential name I can come up with for the iPhone is Eddie Adams, which is an obscure Boogie Nights reference... In the beginning of the movie, before Mark Wahlberg has become porn superstar "Dirk Diggler", he's just Eddie Adams, a kid from Torrence, California busing tables at a club frequented by porn producer Jack Horner... Horner has a "feeling" about Eddie and tries to recruit him by following him back into the kitchen and saying:

"Well, Eddie Adams from Torrence, I have a feeling that you've got something pretty special inside those pants just dying to get out..."

Jack Horner was right of course. Eddie/Dirk really did have something "special" in those pants, and since I usually carry my iPhone in my pants pocket, and since its pretty special, I figured that name might be a good fit... You know, something special in my pants that's just dying to get out... My own ~~little~~ Eddie Adams.

But of course, I'm open for any name suggestions you may have.

Coming Home

2008-10-21T07:55:00.011-04:00

Well I'm back... I see that "Mike So Def" managed to post as many times as I did during my vacation, which is to say 'not at all'. To be fair, I probably should given him proper notice. The important thing is that I'm back.

None of you know how closely I came to never coming back at all... Seriously... As of Friday afternoon, less than 24 hours before my return flight was set to take off, I was officially not coming back... I was going to stay indefinitely. To hell with the consequences.

Finally at around 5 a.m. Saturday morning (less than 12 hours before our flight was to depart) my brother-in-law, a bartender, and a lovely young waitress named Yanira convinced me that losing my job, flunking out of school, getting evicted from my apartment, having my car repossessed, and my wife divorce me, would probably seem like a bad decision a few years down the line.

I'm pretty sure they were right... But I have to say, it sucks being back.

I miss my hammock... I miss having cuajada, platanos con crema, and tortillas every morning for breakfast... I miss walking into town and buying 10 pupusas and 3 bags of horchata for $4.00... I miss the roosters... I even miss carrying a bucket of water to the bathroom to flush the toilet!

Somehow in DC it went from 'still warm and green outside' to 'freezing cold with all the leaves on the ground' in the week I was gone. My cell phone also mysteriously stopped working in my absence so I've got that going for me as well... and to make matters even worse I still haven't managed to readjust to the time zone switch!

This morning I woke up to my alarm clock going off at 4 a.m. and actually thought I was still in the Salvadoran countryside. I woke up Morena and impatiently told her to find my flip-flops and flash light because I was going to walk outside to use the bathroom.

She looked at me like I was crazy and it wasn't until I began to get out of bed and felt carpet instead of tile under my feet that I realized that not only was I not in El Salvador, but that I actually had to get up and go to work! I wanted to bury my face in my hands and cry.

On a positive note, it is nice to once again have access to hot water and cow-free roads... And I have pages upon pages of stories in my moleskine (some of which are even suitable for sharing!). But for now I'll just say that while I may not be glad to be back, I am back.

Here are just a couple of pictures I took along the way:

(the view from the family house in the country).

(my hammock is the one in the middle)

(the border coming back from Honduras)

(the front of our house in San Miguel)

Chicken Thieves!

2008-10-07T07:55:00.003-04:00

I'm going to be in El Salvador all next week. I've decided to hand over the FITS keys to part-time contributor "Mike So Def". If you remember, the last time Mike wrote he gave us one of the very few thought provoking posts in the history of this blog, so rest assured that you will be in good hands... Of course, I haven't said anything to Mike about filling in next week, so this news should be as fun a surprise for him as it is for all of you.

I briefly toyed with the idea of posting from El Salvador, you know, lets see what a "Fart in the Shower" smells like from another country, etc... And since this is a "guys trip" it could have been a great opportunity for me to wax poetic on the details of Central American strip clubs, but alas, I decided against bringing my laptop. Most of my time will be spent in a town where for many people "taking care of the laundry" involves carrying a basket of clothes atop their heads and walking down to the river. The life is just simpler there. You can find lots of people relaxing in hammocks, you can find fresh coconut juice, and of course tamales de elote covered in rich cream, but one thing you won't find is a WiFi hotspot.

Of course I'll have my camera and moleskin with me, so I do plan on bringing something back for the blog (you know, aside from the sunburn, mosquito bites, and wicked case of gonorrhea).

For now let me leave you with one of my favorite stories from my wife's hometown. It all starts way back in 1969, several years before my wife was even born. It was a simpler time for the people of the tiny country town. There were no TVs, very little electricity, almost no cars, and money was tight... But there was plenty of corn for tortillas and beans for the soup. Nobody was starving.

On a hot day you could walk down to the river, plucking fresh mango's along the way from one of the many trees that lined your path. With the sun beating down on your back you could dip your feet in the water and take a big bite of your mango, not even a care in the world as the juices dripped down your chin and onto your sun burnt chest. It was a happy life.

Across the river sat Honduras. In the dry season the river would slow to a thigh deep crawl and you could walk across with no difficulty. And most residents often did just that. In fact it is not at all uncommon residents of the town to have padrinos, primos, and especially novias on the other side of the river.

Then came the "Soccer War." Although soccer is the only sport that matters in either country, both Honduras and El Salvador's national teams had been pretty shitty up until that point. Then, improbably, the two teams each somehow managed to get all the way to the semi-finals of World Cup qualification.

They were set to face off for 2 games... The first game would be played in Honduras followed by a second game in El Salvador. The team that finished with the most goals scored would advance to the finals and play for the chance to go to the 1970 World Cup in Mexico!

In the first game --played in Honduras-- the locals surrounded the hotel of the Salvadoran team and made noise all night long, preventing the players from getting any sleep. The next day the drowsy team was defeated rather easily by a score 2-0.

This meant that El Salvador had to win the next game by at least 2 goals to force a 3rd and deciding game... Of course word quickly leaked about what hotel the Honduran team was staying in and much like the scene that had played out in Honduras, angry fans quickly surrounded the building. They chanted, let off smokes bombs, threw eggs, and threatened general acts of violence all night long, preventing the Honduran national team from even a wink of sleep... The next day El Salvador defeated their fatigued opponents by 2 goals.

It was decided that the teams would have to meet at a neutral site to decide who would advance.
That game was played in Mexico City and El Salvador won in thrilling fashion 3 to 2. They had advanced to the finals where the only thing standing between them and national immortality was the lowly Haitian soccer team. A team that was, believe it or not, even worse than El Salvador and Honduras!

People all across El Salvador took to the streets in celebration. The partying was mostly peaceful but that didn't stop the press in Honduras from falsely reporting that, in their glee, Salvadorans were beating, raping, and murdering any Honduran immigrants they could find.

This led to a backlash in Honduras where their citizens actually began to really beat, rape, and murder any Salvadoran immigrants they could find!

Threats were made on both sides, and finally, a couple weeks later, El Salvador invaded Honduras. The people of my wife's town were frightened. Some fled to stay with relatives in the city while things cooled down, but for the most part people just locked their doors and hoped for the best.

The Salvadoran air force (which, I kid you not, consisted of only a couple passenger jets) dropped homemade bombs across the Honduran country side before sending their soldiers across the border. The war lasted for 5 days before a truce was called. Only 250 soldiers were killed, but in the process the people in Honduras' border towns (towns very much my wife's town) all had to get the fuck out of dodge. They had left their houses and ranches abandoned in their wake.

As the legend goes, a couple of hours after the war was called to a halt, the people of my wife's sleepy Salvadoran town unlocked their doors and found that they were still safe and alive. The fighting had occurred mostly on the Honduran side. There had been virtually no damage to the town, and of course the Salvadoran National Soccer team was still on the brink of going to the World Cup!!!!!

It was time to really party! And how did the people of my wife's town celebrate?

Well of course, they ran across the border and stole all their fleeing neighbor's stuff! All day long there was a parade of men crossing the river with stolen loot... mainly chickens, goats, malnourished cows, and even a horse or two! Some people got radios and a couple of sewing machines were swiped as well. When the Honduran town people got back to their homes to find their stuff was gone, they weren't very happy! To this day they're still a little pissed off about those chickens.

El Salvador ended up beating Hatti to advance to the World Cup a couple months later. Of course they ended up getting their asses kicked by Belgium, Mexico, and the USSR. They didn't even score a goal. But just qualifying for the World Cup was the biggest global feat in the history of their country. To them, it was worth it.

Next week I'll be in that little town. I'll walk down to the river. I'll eat fresh mango. I might even cross the river into Honduras. I'm even going to see the Salvadoran National Team play in a WOrld Cup Qualifying match! Meanwhile my wife will be back here in the US holding down the fort... Lets hope she doesn't invite any of the old timers from her town to come over and steal my stuff while I'm gone!

"It's Just Me and You"

2008-09-29T11:36:00.004-04:00

The guy in the office next to mine has been without his live-in girlfriend for about two weeks now while she's away on business. I know this because he mentioned to me but I probablywould have figured out that "something" was up even if he hadn't told me.

He usually brings in left-overs for lunch but he's been buying out everyday... He's normally a very good dresser but his outfits have slowly regressed from his typical heavy starched exprensive suits to slightly wrinkled khakis and a polo shirt... He looks like he didn't shave all weekend... and this morning he was a very active participant in our Monday morning office football talk even though he normally "doesn't have the time to watch."

In my mental picture of what his condo must look like right now I see a sink overflowing with dishes, empty beer bottles littering the coffee table, and dirty socks and underwear lying on the couch.

For these two weeks he's been going without home cooked food, clean and pressed clothes, and someone worth shaving for. But this afternoon he made me painfully aware of another "need" he's been going without since she left town.

At around 10:30 AM, EST, he got a phone call from his girlfriend. His voice is low and deep and normally easy to ignore, but I heard him make a couple of affectionate comments about how much he's "been missing her". I think I may have even heard him call her "baby" a few times. This is a very professional guy so it caught me a bit off guard.

Next there was a long pause from his end of the conversation, and then he replied with "oh yeah?....... Mmmmmmm, I think I'd like that...... And then what would you do....?"

At that point he got up and closed his office door shut tight. A second later he turned the lock.

I was 80% sure he was about to do something "improper" with / on the phone, but the clincher came a minute later when I heard his stereo turn on. The song was "Me and You" by 'Tony Toni Tone'.

In case you've forgotten, they were a big hit back in the mid-90's when sappy R&B love songs ruled the pop charts. In addition to "Me and You" they also had success with "Feels Good" and "Lay Your Head on my Pillow".

Although I was never really a fan of their kind of music "Me and You" will always hold a special place in my heart simply because that was the song Cuba Gooding Jr. boned Nia Long to in "Boyz in the Hood". I was 12 years old when I saw that movie and well... lets just say Nia had a profound effect on my transition to becoming a teenager. I basically hit puberty while watching that scene.

Anyway... as troubled as I was by what my office mate was probably doing on the phone in his locked office I found myself more troubled by his choice of music... what the hell is he doing still listening to 'Tony Toni Tone'? Seriously, that song has been out of the picture for like 17 years!

My question is, do you think he had the 'Tony Toni Tone' CD already set aside special because he knew that phone call was coming? or does he just always have that 'Tony Toni Tone' CD near by? I'm not sure which answer is worse but the possesion of the 'Tony Toni Tone' CD is (n my mind) just as disturbing as the fact that he was, in all likelihood, getting busy by himself at work.

My questions for all of you FITS readers out there are:

1] have you ever 'gotten busy' at work?

2] have you ever 'gotten busy' by yourself at work?

3] what's the weirdest song you've ever 'gotten busy' to?

4] do you have any 'gettin busy' music? and if so what is it?

[ you know it's time to update your CD collection if these guys find their way onto your 'love makin' rotation! ]

Take That Bully!

2008-09-23T11:52:00.007-04:00

Being one of the bigger kids when I was growing up, I was never really picked on in school. There was however one kid that decided to make me his target when I was in the 7th grade.

He was actually a year younger and not quite as big as me but had the advantage of being completely insane... plus he rolled with a posse of about 5 or 6 other insane kids. They were known for catching other kids alone in the bathroom then beating and robbing them.

His name was Juivon (pronounced like Joe-Vaughn) and it all started one day I was opening my locker. It seems that for no reason other then "wrong place-wrong time" Juivon decided to run up from behind me and punch me in the side of the face... I had never even spoken to him before.

Without realizing 'who' had punched me or 'why' I instinctively turned around and shoved my assailant to the ground. Then I saw who it was... gulp... Juivon... and of course all of his friends were there too.

I thought for sure I was in for a severe beat down, but instead, Juivon's friends all started laughing... at him... "That white kid fucked you up!" they taunted him. You can imagine how their reaction made him feel.

Embarrassed, Juivon got up, shoved me back, and unleashed a stream of insults and threats. I wanted to punch him. My arms were actually shaking because I wanted to throw a punch so badly. But I knew that if I did, all of his friends would jump in and I would end up at the emergency room.

Luckily, a teacher saw what was about to happen and broke it up. We both went our separate ways, but of course, this was only the first chapter. A pattern soon developed. I would see Juivon with his friends and he would hurl insults at me, shove me, spit on me, do anything he could to try and provoke a fight so that they could jump me... and I would just stand there and take it.

But whenever I'd see Juivon by himself he wouldn't even make eye contact with me... He was a really tough guy with a group of friends behind him, but alone, he was a coward. Of course the knowledge that deep down he was really afraid of me didn't help much when his posse had me cornered in the hallway.

Finally I ended up telling a kid on my basketball team about it. He was from the same neighborhood as Juivon and had a way of making problems disappear. And just like that the Juivon issue was over and done with. He would give me the occasional dirty look, but there were no more punches, no more spitting, no more insults. Eventually he just disappeared from my life.

I didn't see him again until a few years later in High School. By then he had grown a lot bigger than me and his arms were covered in tattoos. I remember seeing him in the hallways once and my heart stopped. I was frozen with fear but when he looked at me there was no recognition on his face. Thank god.

Why am I telling you all of this?

Well Moe Greene sent me an email today from the local paper where we grew up... it seems Juivon has gotten into a little bit of a pickle.

Turns out the DEA doesn't like it when you sell an undercover cop 247 grams of crack!

He was facing 27 separate drug charges in local court but the DA instead decided to turn him over to Federal prosecutors. I can only hope his prison tale turns into something out of "Shawshank Redemption."

Let clarify that... I don't mean to say that I wish he find life long friendship with a wise older Morgan Freeman type... I don't want him to find "a purpose" by helping other prisoners earn their GEDs... I'm not hoping that he have any happy endings on a beach in Mexico. In fact, I don't wish that he find any kind of "redemption" at all... Basically, I just hope he gets butt fucked by a gang of creepy prison rapist. I don't think it's too much to ask.

With a Little Help From My Friends

2008-09-11T06:57:00.002-04:00

As a rule, I enjoy crazy guys... When other people get nervous and try not to make eye contact, I settle in and enjoy the show. I've gone on record about this before.

But I read something this morning that creeped me out a bit...

From the Washington Post [link to article]:

"A Virginia man who was caught with a homemade grenade and an assault rifle near the Library of Congress last week told authorities that he came to Washington to help police in the event of a conflict, according to charging papers.

Christopher S. Timmons, 27, said he wanted to provide more "manpower" in case of a conflict with a secret society, charging documents say. He also told police that he planned to visit the Library of Congress to research secret societies, the court papers say. He was arrested Friday after he stopped his Jeep to ask an officer for directions.

The officer noticed a rifle case on a passenger seat, leading to a search that uncovered the grenade, AK-47, knives and ammunition, authorities said."

Okay... this is like, 3 blocks from where I work! Not only that, but it happened LAST WEEK and this is the first I've heard about the incident... note to Capitol Police: keep me in the loop next time you catch a schizophrenic wandering Capitol Hill with an assault rifle and grenade!

Well... at least he was coming here to help...

Misplaced (?) Note

2008-09-09T08:04:00.004-04:00

I found a 'post-it' note stuck to the windshield of my car yesterday in the metro parking garage. It read as follows:

WHY wont u call me back! - Dan*

The note isn't addressed to anyone in particular, and since I don't know any "Dan" (at least not well enough for them to leave a note on my car) I assume the note was not intended for me. I drive a black jeep and I have noticed that there is another black jeep that often parks somewhat near me, so maybe they're the person who won't call Dan back.

Anyway, I've spent a lot of time thinking about the note last night and I've decided that Dan is an asshole. I have several reasons:

[1] Someone is avoiding Dan's calls... we don't know Dan, but we know that someone who does know Dan doesn't think he's worth calling back. Not a good sign.

[2] Dan can't take a hint... if someone is avoiding your calls to the point that you need to leave a note for them, then you already know why they won't call you back and you're just being pushy.

[3] Dan isn't worried... I was thinking about acceptable reasons you could leave a note on someones car if they weren't calling you back and the only thing I could come up with is: you're worried that something has happened to the person. But that is clearly not the case with Dan. He left the note on a car at the Metro parking garage. That means he thought the person was on the metro. People who are on the metro are not dead, in a coma, or kidnapped.

[4] Dan is angry... note the "!" at the end of the sentence... it should be a "?". Had the sentence ended in a period I would have chalked it up to grammatical error and moved on. But he took the time to end with an expressive character and the character he chose to express was 'anger' over 'confusion'... So really, the whole note is dishonest... What he wanted to write was: "I'm pissed off that you haven't called me back!"

[5] Dan was determined... this parking garage is not free. Dan paid to get in. He could have walked into the garage, but there is no free parking close by. So either he [a] paid to get into the garage, [b] paid to park on a nearby street, or [c] parked several blocks away and walked in. I suppose you could argue that perhaps Dan rides the metro and uses the garage everyday. But if that was the case wouldn't he probably know his intended recipient's car a little better?

[6] Dan screwed up... as we determined above, Dan went out of his way to leave this note, he was angry, maybe a little hurt... this note was important to him... and yet he didn't even manage to find the right car! Who puts all that effort into writing a note only to deliver it to the wrong person?

Dan does... And like I said, Dan is an asshole... I wouldn't call him back either.

*I'm going to try and get an actual picture of the note instead of just the transcript but I doubt I'll be able to get it done until tomorrow**

**Yes, I kept the note. I don't know what that says about me.

Scarrier Than A Mailman On Sunday

2008-09-04T08:21:00.004-04:00

I'm not sure if it's OK to have a political post on a blog called "Farting in the Shower," let alone immediately following a post called "Crotch Doctor," but since this isn't my blog I figured I'd go ahead and do it anyway.

Before I move into my topic, I think it would be relevant if I gave you a quick summary of my personal political background. Getting the big question out of the way, I'd say ideologically I side pretty squarely with the Democratic party. I agree with them on most civil issues, such as gay marriage, abortion, separation of church and state(*1), etc., and from what history and politics I studied in school, I believe the economic policy under Clinton was worlds better than the one introduced by Reagan and taken further by Bush. However, what's stronger than my ideological affiliation is my apathetic and futile attitude towards our government. I'm 24 years old, and I've never voted. I'm not particularly proud of it, but the reasons I had for not voting in the past still stand for the most part. I'm not going to get into them here because the only important thing to take from this is that while I'm ideologically a Democrat, I'm quite politically inactive.

The biggest political story right now is clearly McCain's controversial choice for his Vice Presidential running mate. As you should already know, he chose current Alaskan Governor Sarah Palin. When this happened, and all I knew about her was that she was young, female, and from Alaska, my knee jerk reaction was that she was probably a bad choice. In truth, she is a woeful choice. Apart from her non-existent credentials(*2), extremely radical voting record(*3), questionable morals(*4), having a vagina(*5), she's also next in line if McCain's barely animated corpse should decide to cash out. I've only known of her existence for a week and I am terrified of this woman.

OK. Only Tom DeLonge could write a longer intro, and for that I apologize. So without further ado, I'll move onto my intended topic, what really scared me: Palin's speech at last night's Republican National Convention.

As I've hopefully illustrated, this woman already scares me. But what scares me more, as was accented during her speech, are the masses of people that blindly follow a person like this. Every few seconds during the speech, the camera would pan to some random attendees. The looks on their faces, coupled with their enthusiastic applause at the mention of topics such as torture and the war in Iraq, scare the balls off me. While I was overcome with a numbness of fear during the entire event, Two things in particular were stand-out-scary. One, every time she said something inflammatory about the Democratic candidates, the cameras could always find someone in the stands jumping out of their seats and flailing their arms and their signs in divine satanic ecstasy. The only comparison I can summon is from the movie Borat, where he visits the crazy religious congregations that speak in tongues and practice what I can only best describe as "running the gauntlet" through the isles during the sermon. Even sports fans aren't this enthusiastic. And the other thing that terrified me, was during a specific point in her speech where she was vilifying Obama for wanting to raise taxes. At one point she listed the taxes he wanted to raise. From what I can remember, it went like this: "Income tax, Payroll tax, (something), Death tax(*6), Business tax, (something)..." and the only audible boos in that huge crowd came when she listed "Business tax". BUSINESS TAX. Fuck every one of you rich greedy bastards in that room. I was appalled, speechless, confused, angry, everything. These are the people that want to run our country.

(*1)This shouldn't be a party issue (it's in the Constitution!), but sadly, it really is.

(*2)She's been Governor of Alaska (ALASKA!) for less than 2 years. She was mayor of a town of 5000 before that, and the rest of her political credentials aren't significant enough to mention, even with respect to what I just wrote.

(*3)She was a member of an organization that wanted Alaska to secede from the United States. Do I really need to add that she voted to ban abortion for rape victims? Or that she's a member of the NRA (scary)? Or for abstinence-only sex education?

(*4)When her water broke during her latest pregnancy to an autistic child in the mainland U.S., she decided to take a 10-hour plane/car trip back to Alaska to deliver the baby. Medically, this is extremely dangerous (once her water breaks, the baby is no longer in a sterile environment and is very susceptible to infection, which can easily become fatal to a fragile newborn), and in my opinion, incredibly morally irresponsible. Lest I forget, her 17-year old daughter is currently 5 months pregnant (abstinence-only education is clearly doing wonders for her own family).

(*5)Just trying to add a little humor, please don't be offended. But seriously, I think she has a vagina.

(*6)She emphasized "Death tax" for some reason, to no response from the crowd.

The Crotch Doctor

2008-08-27T06:26:00.014-04:00

A big part of this blog is story telling... Stories from my Metro commute, stories from work, stories from my past, stories from Moe Greene's past, stories from the news... lots of stories...

And for the most part, these stories basically true. Sometimes I change a name, or date, or maybe I'll slightly exaggerate a fact for dramatic purposes, but like I said, it's all basically true, and all basically believable.

The reason I'm giving this long explanation about 'truth' and 'exaggeration' is because the story I'm about to tell you is simply not believable... but it happens to be true.

The story involves Moe Greene... his penis... and a dirty old man...

It all began a couple years back after Moe's wife gave birth to their son (which she continues to allege is his). They decided that after 3 kids it was time to retire from the baby making game and his wife got fixed... but a few months later, they had a pregnancy scare.

They called the doctor who had performed her procedure and he admitted that these things were never really 100% effective, and that the only way they could really be sure not to prevent another pregnancy was for Moe to get clipped as well... and so he scheduled an appointment with a urologist.

That urologists name was... Dr... Crouch...

I kid you not, "Crouch" the "Crotch Doctor"... and he was 80 years old... I told Moe right then that he should look into getting another doctor to perform such a "delicate procedure", but he would hear none of it. He let "Crouch the Crotch Doctor" give him a vasectomy and that was that... We never thought about the doctor again... until yesterday that is...

I was browsing my old hometown newspaper, The Frederick News-Post, and who's name do I see sprawled across the front page? Dr. Crouch!

It seems the good doctor got a little too touchy-feely with a woman who was renting out the guest bedroom of his house.

The woman, who was a student at a local college, had just moved in this month and says the unwanted sexual advances started right away. Crouch (now 83 years old) began making comments to her like, "everyone needs sex, it's just like breathing," and grabbed her in a naughty place on several occasions.

She says the advances came almost everyday, but the "highlight" came a couple weeks ago when she was studying in the living room... Crouch entered the room, put a pornographic movie into the DVD player, and turned it on. When she insisted that he turn it off he responded by grabbing himself (in the Crotch), and saying:

"I'm a doctor, I know what you need!"

To make matters worse (or better depending on your point of view I guess), when police arrested Dr. Crouch in his car they found five grams of marijuana under the driver's seat! The only thing that could make this story any better is an embarrassing mugshot... oh wait, we've got one:

Of course as soon as I saw the story I called Moe Greene and read him the details. His immediate response was, "I only spent a couple hours with the man and I don't doubt her story for a second!"

Moe went on to tell me the creepy story about how, prior to his out-patient procedure, he shaved himself really well --"down there"-- because he didn't want the doctor's dirty old-man-hands shaving his most prized possession.

Now you would think that Dr. Crouch would have been thankful that Moe had already shaved himself (you know, one less task for him to take care of) but according to Moe, the old man actually seemed disappointed and insisted on re-shaving "the area" anyway!

I don't know if I can conjure up a creepier scenario then having an 80 year pervert shaving my junk with his cold, trembling hands...

As a side note, Dr. Crouch is apparently really into aviation and actually crashed his plane at the Ocean City Airport over the weekend (before he assaulted his roommate I assume)... And his late brother-in-law was Strom Thurmond... I don't know what any of that has to do with the accusations, but I felt like you needed to know that anyway.

And again, I swear I'm not making this story up, my imagination is just not this good.

Break Up Break Downs

2008-08-19T08:08:00.010-04:00

I stepped onto the Red Line train at Metro Center and scanned up and down the car for an empty seat. There was only one, directly behind a teenage couple engaged in a full on make-out session. Reluctantly, I took the seat.

I was listening to the latest edition of the "This American Life" podcast. The topic was "breakups" or rather, dealing with breakups. I found this incredibly ironic because it took me only approximately 10 seconds of sitting behind "kissing couple" to know that their relationship would at some point result in a tragic breakup... the kind suitable for retelling on the very episode of "This American Life" that I was listening to as they passionaltly embraced right in front of me.

Not only could I tell that the relationship would end poorly, but I could even tell who would be the one left with the broken heart.

They were both attractive people. The girl had long, dark, flowing hair, and big puffy lips... the kind of girl I'm prone to falling in love with on just about any other day on the metro.

The guy had long hair, pulled back into a pony tail, and soft, pretty facial features that were slightly offset by unkempt facial hair that left him with a rebellious twist. I wrote in my journal that he looked like Che Guevara but if Che had been an Italian soccer player obsessed with having "good hair".

"Che" was sprawled across his ladies lap and in between kisses he closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. "Penelope" (that's what I've decided to call his romantic counterpart) starred at him longingly when he closed his eyes and ran her fingers tips up and down his cheek brushing against his ear.

She was trying to let him sleep but every few seconds she couldn't help herself and would lower her lips to his face and plant soft kisses on his closed eyelids, his nose, his mouth.

"Che" would open his eyes, they would kiss passionately for a few seconds, and then he would close his eyes again and the process would repeat...

Finally, she left him alone long enough for him to drift off to sleep... and as if on cue, his phone rang... he stirred awake and answered the phone. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but the entire time he was trying to talk "Penelope" was back to her old tricks, kissing his ear, his cheek, his forehead, etc.

There was a trace of annoyance on his face. It went unspoken but it was there to be seen, and really, who could blame him? How could he not be annoyed by constant facial touching?

"He's probably too nice a guy to protest," I wrote... "But eventually, he will..."

It was plain to see that she needed him more than he needed her. And that's a recipe for disaster.

In 3 months he'll dump her for being so smothering, but he won't tell her why. Maybe he won't even know why... But he'll move on and she won't... She'll stalk him on MySpace, pick a fight with his new girlfriend at the mall, and finally key his car in an act of desperation... you know, as a final expression of "her love".

We can only hope the whole saga ends up on Judge Judy someday.

In honor of the kissing couple seated next to me on the train, and in honor of the "This American Life" segment on breakups, I figured it would be a good time for us all to tell breakup stories... I'll start with one of my own, and then you guys can share your own in the comments section.

Mine will be a little unconventional... Usually when you think of a breakup story you think of one where your heart was broken, but I'm going to tell one about breaking someone else's heart.

It starts in High School where I had a girlfriend that was totally, completely, utterly in love with me in the way only a teenage girl can be. I dare say she loved me just as much as "Penelope" loved "Che".

And I loved her too, but not with the kind of love that could honestly rival hers. In fact, her passion was so strong that I could never fully believe it. Having the self esteem of a 16 year old boy, it was just incomprehensible that someone could love me that much. I wanted to know why...

Part of me felt that she only loved me because she was a teenage girl and she thought she was supposed to be "in love" with her boyfriend. By my way of thinking, it wasn't even anything special about me, It was just the idea of me, the boyfriend. I could never fully accept that- indeed- this beautiful girl was really in love with me for me.

So every couple weeks I would do something to test her love... At the time I didn't even realize that I was testing her, but looking back on it now with the eyes of an adult I can see that clearly, that's what I was doing.

I would act distant or cold towards her for days at a time for no apparent reason and give no explanation. I would flirt with other girls. Mention in passing how her friend Eva was really cute in that new dress. I would forget to meet her in between classes... All the typical teenage mind games.

All of this was in an effort to see how she reacted. As long as my actions could hurt her, then I could see her emotions were real... If I could make her cry, then that must mean she loved me. Right?

It was all very juvenile behavior, but then again, I was a juvenile!

We ended up breaking up several times but we always got back together. Then finally, after about a year together I started to get bored... I had eyes for a Puerto Rican beauty in my Geometry class and so I started looking for a way out... But because I wasn't man enough to just breakup with her, I needed to somehow make it her fault.

Then one day I got my chance when Moe Greene saw some guy on the football team pass my girlfriend a note... that was all I needed. I confronted her about it the next day and she told me that indeed, the football player had given her a note asking her out on a date, but that she had turned him down.

She had even kept the note, as well as her rejection reply just in case I didn't believe her. The only reason she hadn't told me about it in the first place was that she thought I might try to pick a fight with this romantic rival... Of course I knew she was telling the truth, but I pretended not to believe her. I refused to read the notes or even listen to her explanations any further. I dumped her on the spot for her "cold hearted betrayal".

And of course she cried... but the novelty of being able to make her cry for me had finally worn off. It was really over this time.

Of course I never got the girl from my Geometry class, never even got the courage to tell her how I felt... And after a few months, my ex-girlfriend started dating someone new, though it was not the football player... I remember feeling hurt that she moved on, but at the same time I knew it was her right to do so. We wouldn't speak for another 2 and half years.

We were both taking classes at a local community college when we ran into each other. She was still with the "new guy" but he had enlisted in the Army and was away at boot camp. We shared an awkward lunch and made small talk. And then, without provocation, she brought up the breakup.

"I was telling the truth about that football player you know, if you had only just read the notes...," she told me.

I conceded that I had believed her all along and went on to tell her the real story about what had really happened... About how I had wanted out of the relationship but didn't know how to get out... About my crush on the girl from Geometry... And about how stunned I was when I saw her with "the new guy" a few months after our breakup... I told her everything.

When I finished, she was crying. I reached my hand out to try and comfort her but she slapped it away. She called me a bastard. Told me that I had broken her heart, and that she cried herself to sleep for weeks after I dumped her. In fact, she claimed that she dated "the new guy" for 6 weeks before she would even kiss him because she had still been so in-love with me!

I felt terrible of course... but at the same time I felt powerful. All those juvenile feelings came out again... "It's been 2 and half years and I can still make her cry! She must have really loved me!"

I spent the rest of the semester trying to woo her back. I vowed that I'd never hurt her again if she just gave me another chance... and I really meant it. But to her credit, she had learned from her mistake. She would never let me hurt her again she claimed.

But I didn't listen. I tried everything I could to win back her trust... flowers... jewelry... I even woke up at 6 am every Tuesday and Thursday to pick her up from her house and drop her off at school even though my classes didn't start until noon... But nothing could be done.

She had finally moved on and now I was the one left broken hearted. After the semester ended and she no longer needed a ride to that 6 am class we would pass each other on campus and she wouldn't even acknowledge me. Not even a wave, head nod, or even eye contact. I ended up dropping my classes and taking a job working the night shift at a gas station.

Every night at the gas station I would listen to "I Wonder" by Chris Issac over and over again on my discman... The song seemed to perfectly capture how I felt... I had found true love, accidentally thrown it away, and now it was lost forever. I'm pretty sure my obsession with that song prolonged my misery by at least 3 months, but of course, if a song by Chris Issac can have such a profound effect on you then you probably deserve to be depressed anyway.

I didn't know it then but becoming obsessed with a single song after a heartbreak would become a pattern for me. Here's a list of a couple others that I would later on become obsessed with:

"Take Another Little Piece of My Heart" - Janis Joplin
"Dammit" - Blink 182
"A Long December" - The Counting Crows
"Ensename a Olvidar" - Aventura
"You Don't Have to Say You Love Me" - Dusty Springfield

So there it is... My breakup story. Now lets hear yours. It can be about you being dumped, about you dumping someone else, how you got over being dumped, anything, as long as it involves someone being dumped. It can be from last week or third grade... You can be brief or you can ramble on about every detail... FITS is here for you. Get it out, I'm in a mood to read about other people's misery... bonus points if you can include any good breakup songs.

Wax Your Pole... its the Law!

2008-08-14T08:22:00.008-04:00

For the first time in way too long, I went to a strip club last night... It had been so long that I'd forgotten many of my own advice from my old Asi Es -- A Strip Club Guide . By my count I broke 3 of my rules.

[3] "Don't be part of the crowd"... I went to one of the of the higher class, over priced, and well known clubs in DC.

[5] "Don't go during the day"... pretty self explanatory.

[6] "Never use a credit card"... one of the cardinal rules, a rule I'd always vowed never to break.

Now in my defense, this was the going away party for a coworker of mine and so he picked the venue, which explains breaking rule #3... and since we went after work we had no choice but to walk in around 4 pm, which explains breaking rule #5 [I should also say that when we walked out 6 hours later it was late at night so I only halfway broke that rule anyway]... now as far as the credit card goes, I'll have to explain that one later on in the post...

But despite breaking so many rules, I still had a great time. I'd say it was a top 10 strip club experience... the girls at the higher end places are obviously usually of a higher caliber --which is a good thing-- of course this often means you sacrifice a bit in the performance department --which is a bad thing. But for the most part that wasn't the case at this club... In fact "Cynthia" from Colombia actually gave me a little more attention then I was comfortable with, and that's something I never thought I'd hear myself say about a stripper.

And every great strip club adventure needs to have some sort of bizarre or surreal event, and we had that as well...

When we first got into the place one of the more acrobatic girls was in the middle of her routine, making good use of the stripper pole... she was a very talented young lady, no doubt inspired by the Olympic gymnastics being shown on the TV by the bar.

Anyway, when the atletic girl finished up her set, "Chastity" came up next sporting a naughty cheerleader outfit. (Just in case you're wondering, the school name on her cheerleader outfit was the "University of Pink"... I hear they have a really good engineering program)

But before "Chastity" could give us a display of her school spirit she pulled out a wash rag and bottle of Windex... At first I thought maybe she was confused about her outfit. Shouldn't she be wearing the "maid" outfit when using cleaning products as a prop? But then she proceeded to thoroughly wipe down the stripper pole and surrounding stage... And not in a sexy or provocative way either. She was really trying to clean up... And for good measure she even turned around and gave the mirror behind the stage a quick wipe down as well!

My friend and I were befuddled. Was this the world's first germ-freak stripper? Maybe she had OCD? Or was she possibly trying to say something about the intimate pole work done by her predecessor?

Finally after she sterilized everything within 10 feet of the pole she began her routine and I made my way towards the stage with a fist full of $1's... I wasn't planning to ask about her pre-dance clean up, but in the 20 minutes since we'd arrived I'd already downed three $13 Rum 'n Cokes and curiosity got the better of me... When she came over I asked, "What's the deal with the Windex?"

It turns out "Chastity" didn't have OCD or any germ phobias at all (which was a bit of a disappointment)... it's just some archaic law in the District of Colombia about cleaning up the pole and stage area between dances. According to "Chastity", most every other club in the city ignores this rule... but not at this place!

And that's when I decided it would be okay to pay the bar tab with my credit card. Not only has this place been in business for a couple decades now (with as good a reputation as a strip club can have) but I figure that if they make their strippers spray the stage down with Windex in between performances they probably wouldn't try anything funny with the billing... Lets hope I was right.

Elevator Up?

2008-08-12T07:15:00.005-04:00

The call button on the elevator at my work is broken. Actually, the button is fine, it still calls the elevator, it's just that the light doesn't work. So you push the button and then you can't tell for sure if it's been pressed.

As a result, whenever I approach the elevator and someone else is already there waiting I can't tell if they've actually pressed the button or not... Now clearly they have... They wouldn't be standing in front of the elevator doors waiting for them to open if they hadn't pressed the call button... But because I can't see the little light on the button, I can't totally trust them.

To make things worse it also happens to be the slowest elevator in the Mid-Atlantic region. It's always a long uncomfortable wait. Right up until the point when the elevator finally arrives on our floor and it's door slide open I have to fight off the urge to reach over and press the button myself. You know, just to make sure...

But as uncomfortable as it is to be the one wondering if the other person actually pressed the button, it even worse to be the one who did press the button. For me at least, it's just too much pressure.

I walk up to the elevator with no one else in sight. I press the button. The waiting game begins... I feel someone else approach from behind.

We make eye contact, followed by the polite half-smile.

I watch as their eyes dart towards the call button. "Oh that's right, the light doesn't work," I can see them thinking.

A long pause.

Then the look of distrust. "Did this guy really push the button?"

Eye contact again... I try my best to give a reassuring "yes I really hit the button" look.

And then I wonder, "Wait a second... Did I really push the button?.......... Of course I did....... Well....... What if I didn't press the button hard enough?........... What if I only pushed it in halfway?............ Would it still work if I didn't press it in all the way?.......... I should push the button again, just to make sure........"

Then I stop myself... If I push the button again right now then the other person will think that I never pushed it before... They'll think that I was just standing here like an idiot this whole time.

So I don't push the button again... I just stand there and hope that I really did push the button the first time. And that I pressed it in all the way. And that it will get here soon...

The Mayor and His Dogs

2008-08-07T06:14:00.010-04:00

One of my favorite lines from the Eddie Murphy comedy "Coming to America" is delivered not by stars Eddie Murphy or Arsenio Hall, but by "that guy" actor Frankie Faison who plays the role of a slum landlord in the 1988 comedy classic.

It's the scene where Murphy and Hall have just arrived in Queens, NY and are looking to rent basically the shittiest apartment they can find. Faison doesn't disappoint and shows them a run down efficiency that still has chalk outlines on the floor where the previous tenants were murdered. Murphy and Hall see the outlines of two humans and a dog and look to Faison for some sort of explanation, to which Faison only offers, "It's a damn shame what they did to that dog..."

Even though I've seen the movie at least a dozen times I still laugh out loud every time I see that part. In fact, it's been in my vocabulary ever since I first saw the movie so many years ago.

Right now you're probably wondering "okay fine, it was funny, but what's your point?"

My point is that, right now in the DC/MD area, we are experiencing an actual "It's a damn shame what they did to that dog" moment that's being played out in our newspapers and local news as I type this... and I feel the need to share...

Our story begins in a little town in the Maryland suburbs called Berwyn Heights. Its the kind of town you might drive through and not even realize you were there. It's population is only roughly 3,000 people who reside there because of it's convenient location to several quick routes into DC.

I've lived in this area my entire life and I'm only marginally aware of its existence... Before this story I knew basically where it was, but I still had to look it up on the map just to make sure. It's nestled right next to College Park, the home of the University of Maryland... a place I'm obviously quite familiar with, but like I said, I still had to check it out the map.

The mayor of the town is named Cheye Calvo, but being the mayor of Berwyn Heights is only a part time gig. His real job is working for the SEED Foundation, which is a nonprofit group that runs urban public boarding schools. Here's a picture of Cheye and his wife Trinity standing on their porch in Berwyn Heights:

I don't personally know Cheye, or Trinity for that matter, but they look like decent people. They look like the kind of people that if say, the county police knocked on their door to ask them a few questions, they would probably cooperate.

But Prince George's County Police apparently felt otherwise... When they were alerted last week that a package being shipped to the Calvo home had been identified by a police dog as containing marijuana, they decided not to knock on the Calvo door and ask questions, no, instead they decided that the prudent thing to do was obtain a search warrant and call in the SWAT team!

I'll let the Washington Post describe what transpired from there:

Calvo said he came home early from work [last] Tuesday. While walking the dogs he noticed several black sport-utility vehicles and a woman parked in a car down the street.

"I figured someone was having a party," he recalled.

It was the police. They were watching, waiting for someone to bring the package into the house.

As Calvo returned to the house, he said, he spotted the large package that his mother-in-law had told a deliveryman to leave on the porch. He placed it on a buffet table near the front door and went upstairs to change.

"I brought it inside because I figured it was something we'd gotten for the garden," he said.

Moments later, just after he had undressed, Calvo said, he heard his mother-in-law scream that someone was coming toward the house. He looked out his bedroom window and saw officers in SWAT gear running across the lawn.

"I heard a loud crash and then 'bang, bang, bang,' " he said, recalling the sounds of the police shooting his dogs. [emphasis added by me]

"I hit the floor."

As the police came in, Calvo said, they shot his 7-year-old black Labrador retriever, Payton, near the front door and then his 4-year-old dog, Chase, also a black Lab, as the dog ran into a back room. Walking through his house yesterday, Calvo pointed out a bullet hole in the drywall where the younger dog had been shot.

"I understand they have a job to do, but it didn't have to go like that," Calvo said. He said the police could have knocked on his door and asked him about the package. "I've never done drugs in my life. Anyone who knows me knows that I am so adamantly opposed to them."

Police said yesterday that, when they seized the package during the raid, it was unopened.

But perhaps the most horrifying part of the story, worse than the actual act of shooting the dogs IMHO was this:

Calvo described a chaotic scene, in which he -- wearing only underwear and socks -- and his mother-in-law were handcuffed and interrogated for hours. They were surrounded by the dogs' carcasses and pools of the dogs' blood, Calvo said.

You shot his dog and then you interrogated him FOR HOURS in his UNDERWEAR right in front of the dead dogs!
In response to this, the police spokesperson (who claimed the heavily armoured SWAT team felt threatened by the black labs) had this to say:

"We're not in the habit of going to homes and shooting peoples' dogs. If we were, there would be a lot more dead dogs around the county."

Are you serious? That's your REAL response to killing the Mayor's dogs? How the fuck are you the official spokesperson with answers like that?

Oh but the story gets worse from there... As it turns out, the Prince George's County Police forgot to notify the Berwyn Heights police department that they were sending a SWAT team to the mayor's house!

Now call me crazy, but I have to think that if I'm the Berwyn Heights Police Chief, I'd kinda like to be told about something like that before it happens... In fact Berwyn Heights Police Chief Patrick Murphy was pretty peeved about the whole situation... According to him, town police could have conducted the search without a SWAT team.

"You can't tell me the chief of police of a municipality wouldn't have been able to knock on the door of the mayor of that municipality, gain his confidence and enter the residence... It would not have been a necessity to shoot and kill this man's dogs."

But wait there's more!

You know that search warrant the PG County Police obtained to conduct the search?

Well... they kinda... sorta... forgot to provide a copy of it to the Mayor... Now that's a little tricky because a detective at the scene actually signed a sworn statement that he did give the Mayor a copy... but in fact, he didn't actually follow through on that until days after the dogs were shot... Oops...

And oh yeah, they never actually knocked on the door either... They just kicked it open and came in shooting... Of course, immediately following the incident the Police spokesperson assured the press that the warrant they obtained was a special "no knock" warrant that is sometimes issued in cases where police are afraid that the suspect may destroy evidence... but the truth is... that was a lie... they didn't actually have a "no knock warrant"... Oops again!

Oh and one last thing... apparently... the Mayor, his wife, his mother in law, and his dogs were actually umm... innocent... gulp...

As it turns out, what actually happened was that two delivery men had a scheme to smuggle marijuana by shipping packages to unsuspecting recipients and then intercepting them before the homeowners were even aware of the packages... and that's what happened to the Mayor and his wife in this situation.

Police arrested the real criminals last night and actually spent this entire week chasing down similar suspicious packages that in total come out to 417 pounds of weed... No word on whether or not any more dogs were shot in the process of the investigation.

And of course now that the culprits are behind bars and the investigation has concluded, PG County Police were glad to clear the Mayor's name and apologize... right?

No actually! Here is what they had to say in the Post this morning:

Police Chief Melvin C. High would not rule out that Calvo and Tomsic had some involvement in the delivery. Asked whether police had cleared them, he said: "From all the indications at the moment, they had an unlikely involvement, but we don't want to draw that definite conclusion at the moment." He later said, "Most likely, they were innocent victims."

Neither he nor Sheriff Michael A. Jackson apologized for the raid, which they said was conducted responsibly, given what deputies and officers knew at the time.

What? Not even a "my bad" ?

The Chief went on to spew more stupidity:

"In some quarters, this has been viewed as a flawed police operation and an attack on the mayor, which it is not," High said. "This was about an address, this was about a name on a package . . . and, in fact, our people did not know that this was the home of the mayor and his family until after the fact."

So wait a second... you obtain a warrant, get a SWAT team ready, and set up a plan to raid the house of suspected high volume drug trafficker, and you never even figured out that the "suspect" was the fucking MAYOR of the town! They don't have Google on the PG County Police Computers?

I can't wait to see how this case plays out... I'm sure there will be a massive lawsuit soon to be followed by an out of court settlement... and the Mayor and his wife will deserve every penny they get... but of course they'll never get their dogs back. I guess the only thing left to say is:

"It's a damn shame what they did to that dog..."

Weird Wiki

2008-08-06T10:50:00.002-04:00

I was browsing wikipedia this morning and came across this bizarre tidbit of info that I felt needed to be shared with you all:

"Coolio has six children but is separated from his wife. He is currently living with the ex-wife of close friend, David Faustino."

In case you have somehow forgotten who the immortal David Faustino is, let me remind you, he played "Bud" on Married With Children.

God bless Wikipedia...