Kiss Our Collective Ass

For all the adults and baby boomers that say that this generation- I like to call it Generation Kill as an ode to the great mini series and even greater book- has no pep, no great cause that it can stand up for, this is for you. You can have your Kent State riots and Watts riots and Million Man March (Is that still going on by the way?); we got Facebook boycotts.

Yep, it seems Generation Kill has found an enemy, and it is the developers of Facebook. You baby boomers can fix the economy (fat chance that's going to happen- Congress is too bipartisan to vote yes on the bill now. Possibly after the elections that will change, but then it'll probably be too late), try to pull the troops out of Iraq by 2009, and reduce gas prices. We give you that. No don't get us wrong; we'll help you out (because you're the reason we're in this mess in the first place and God knows you're too proud to get us out of it). We just have to deal with this problem first.

Yep, apparently, Facebook users are so pissed off at the new design that a million or so of them are planning a two day boycott of the popular social networking website.

Viva la Revolucion, indeed.

The Idiocy of American TV

All right. I love watching television; let's get that out of the way right now. I generally have no problem with it. However, every once in a while, I weep for the days of Kuwait and Jazeera Sports. This is one of those days.

So today is the day of the big Italian Derby, the football match that pits AC Milan against cross town rivals Internazionale. It's not exactly an important game in the standings, but its still a must see game, one of those special ones that millions of fans await. It's sort of like the Boston Red Sox and New York Yankees rivalry, only they don't get to play nineteen times (of which all nineteen are shown on television- LIVE).

I'm not upset that they're not showing the game; they are. I'm miffed as to why they don't show it live. What's more, the game tips off at 2:30 EST. Fox Sports is showing the game at 3:30. Retarded, I know.

Had this been Yankees- Red Sox, Fox would have started coverage at 12. Had this been Yankees - Red Sox, ESPN (who wouldn't even get to show the game mind you) would devote a 90 minute SportsCenter to the intangibles of the rivalry, and why this game (again they do this for all nineteen) is important- even though the Sox clinched a playoff spot and the Yankees are seven games behind. Why they don't do this for a game that is most likely going to be watched by millions more is beyond me, and I think I'm a pretty smart dude.

To recap the importance of this game, my friend told me that she "doesn't watch the Italian League. But I think it's pretty huge."

You can probably guess my reply.

Why I Envy Derek Jeter & Hate Him At The Very Same Time

Whenever I'm asked who I would rather be for a day, the usual suspects don't usually come up. Everyone I know would rather be Brad Pitt or George Clooney. Me? I like to swing for the fences. This is why I always say, as much as I'd hate to admit it as a Red Sox fan, I'd rather be Derek Jeter. Why?

Well, for one, Brad Pitt is a pussy whipped shell of a man. I hate to say it, but that is the truth. Michael Douglas was right about that one. I don't care if his wife is Angelina Jolie, considered by many - n0t me- to be the best looking woman on earth. I don't care how good looking she is, there's no pussy worth being that whipped over.

George Clooney's life probably would be the most fun. The dude sleeps with Italian models all the time, doesn't really make a movie unless he wants to, and is probably the envy of all males. Again, not mine.

Which brings me to my choice. Derek fucking Jeter. If you were to compile a list of the hottest women in the world, Scarlett Johanssen, Jessica Beil, and Jessica Alba would be on that list, right? They are also part of another list, poon Derek Jeter has tapped. Also on that list, Vida Guerra, pre crazy Mariah Carey, Adriana Lima, and Gabrielle Union.

Jeter also lives in Manhattan and is the toast of the town (although not this year since the Yankees suck).

Wait, whoa, hold up. What the fuck am I saying? Fuck Derek Jeter. I don't want that bastard's life. Besides, for all the poon Jeter has banged, he is probably most recognized for this fact:

Derek Jeter is the guy that gave Jessica Alba herpes.

Office Fever

Anybody else excited about The Office premiere on Thursday? Man I can't wait for that show to start. To celebrate that fact, I'm linking to this article about B.J. Novak, a writer on the show and also Ryan Howard, the cocaine addicted temp. (Shit, I just realized I haven't written about drugs in a while. Sign of maturity? Oh dear God I hope not.)

In other Office related news, I'm really excited to see Amy Ryan (aka Beatie from the greatest show ever, The Wire) becoming a regular on The Office. Yep, it looks like Holly is here to stay, folks.

Speaking of The Wire, it looks like the rest of America is finally figuring out that the guys on that show can fucking act. Stringer Bell is in Guy Ritchie's new movie, RockNRolla (the credits list him as Idris Elba, but he's always going to be Stringer in my book because that character will never be beat. The way the dude dies is quite possibly the greatest TV killing in history, and yes I realize I'm biased, but come on. Watch the tape and tell me I'm wrong.) and Marlo Stanfield (aka Jamie Hector) is in Heroes (so apparently is Bubbles - Andre Royo, but he was MIA in the two episodes I've seen).

Man, all this talk about The Wire has gotten me jonesing like Bubbles. I'm gonna go get my fix.

Here I go again with the drug talk.

The Real Double Standard

I was reading something the other day and it got me to thinking that the female of the species, no matter what they tell you, have got it made. No, no, I'm not talking about the obvious perks of being a woman: you can flirt your way out of a ticket, flash your way into a club, etc. (God, am I sexist, I know) Rather, I'm talking about this.

Why is it that women can watch whatever they want and not labeled anything for it? Women can watch sports- heck, women can follow sports- and not be labeled anything for it? (I mean by the opposite sex, by the way) In fact, and this is where it gets personal, if I find a woman that follows sports as much as I do, I'm getting on my hands and knees. (But let's not get ahead of ourselves here.)

Meanwhile, if a man admits to liking a supposed chick flick or girly show, he gets vilified for it. So what if I enjoy Gossip Girl? Yeah, look, on the surface, it's the ultimate chick indulgence. Look closely, however, and you'll see it can appeal to both sexes- and I'm not just referring to the tits and ass on that show, although I will admit, that's the stuff that gets guys like me interested.

Look, all I'm saying is that at least the guys on Gossip Girl aren't as castrated as the guys on The L Word (which is understandable since its a show about lesbians) or even supposedly guy-centric How I Met Your Mother (the most manly man on there is Neil Patrick Harris, and even that looks like its going to shit). Ted is quite possibly the most castrated man in the world of sitcoms, and yet that's guy centric? Come the fuck on; I'd say Chuck Bass is more manly than Ted (at least on the surface).

Damn it why do I watch so much television?

In closing, please don't judge me by what television shows I watch (or don't). At least you can rest assured ladies that, if all else fails, we can discuss Gossip Girl.

Why Can't These Adults Get It Right

I've had it with the baby boomers. Every other article in the paper nowadays is telling the world how this generation- Generation X, Generation Y, Generation Debt, etc.- is, in the words of today's pundit, The New York Times' Alessandra Stanley, "the most coddled, indulged, and overprotected generation ever." Her full description is below:

These are people who came of age taking the Internet, BlackBerries, cash machines, Facebook and iPods for granted. They also take the taking for granted. They are the most coddled, indulged and overprotected generation ever. Swaddled in safety and self-esteem, they have all been assured that they are special. They don’t rebel against their parents or even seek independence; they welcome an electronic umbilical cord that stretches through high school and college and even the post-graduate return to the empty nest.

She's totally right about all of it. I don't have a problem with that assessment. However, the way Stanley puts it, its our fault that we are the way we are. In fact, it is not. It is our parents that have made us that way.

Think about it. Who took you to piano lessons when all you wanted to do was play football with your friends? Who gave in to your request for an XBox or a Playstation? Our parents are the reason for us being the way we are, and they seem to be throwing it in our face all the time. Isn't that just a tad hypocritical?

Look, I'm not going to apologize for the way I am (and I'm sure not apologizing for my generation; I'm not a celebrity so I don't take myself that seriously), but I am tired of baby boomers lambasting the way we are. Your parents did that to you, so now you transfer the blame on to us?

While you're at it, could you please stop fucking up the world for us? Our generation isn't responsible for the recent market crashes; yours is. The Iraq War? Don't look at us for that (yes its our generation - Generation Kill - that is doing the killing, but, like everything else, we're just doing your bidding); that's all on you. Yeah, when it comes to fucking up the world, the baby boomers got that shit on lock.

We only fuck up the virtual world- the world that our XBoxes and iPods have made possible, by the way, through - and this is a reccuring theme- the hard work of young designers toiling under a baby boomer boss. After all, the way things are going, that might be the only world we have left.

Just When You Thought It Was Safe

I was talking to a friend of mine just now and he was telling me how the State of Kuwait, in its infinite wisdom, is going to block YouTube. Yeah, that's right. The biggest video site in the world is going to be blocked by Kuwait. Why? This is where it gets more asinine.

Apparently, Kuwait is concerned with the amount of anti Islam propaganda that is on YouTube. Again, because we're talking about the Kuwaiti government, who doesn't think the public is able to police itself, the concensus decision is that the Parliament is going to do that for them. You know what, I'd just propose that the government take it one step further and just take away the Internet entirely because you know, the Internet as a whole has an abundant amount of anti Islam propaganda.

While they are at it, the Parliament should block television access to Kuwaiti citizens because, let's face it, there's a lot of channels with anti Islam propaganda too. I would propose that they also take away radio but depriving Kuwaiti citizens of Mohammed Dughaishem's smooth voice would be cruel- maybe even downright uncivilized.

I swear sometimes I don't know what Kuwaitis are thinking. We bitch and moan about how we're supposed to be on par with Dubai and Abu Dhabi, then we go and pull something like this.

You can't have it both ways, you ignorant fucks. Either you improve and get with the times, or you go back to the Stone Age.

UPDATE: YouTube's block was rescinded this morning, according to 2:48 AM. However, that doesn't change the fact that people in Kuwait are sometimes ignorant. They are also fucks. All the time.

True American Hero

This guy is my hero. The dude was getting faxes from a telemarketing company and when he asked them to stop, they told him to go fuck himself. 

However, the power of the internet helped him as he got the number off his caller ID, googled the company, and forwarded his fax number to theirs. Genius, right? 

In the words of The Consumerist, "It's like a delicious irony cake wrapped in irony ice cream and topped with chocolate irony sprinkles." 

Indeed it is. 

Also, is it just me or is that dessert the best ever? 

So Much For American Democracy

The United States of America is always trying to push democracy down the Middle East's throats. The government would have you believe that the Middle East is a backwards region with no regards for human rights. Well, that same region is home to the first and second place countries in terms of women ministers. That's right, the United Arab Emirates and Kuwait (WHAT WHAT!) have a better percentage of women ministers than the United States does. Here's the proof:

The United Arab Emirates and Kuwait have faired better in providing ministerial berths to women than the United States and several other western countries.

According to United Nations new report "Progress of the World's Women 2008/2009: Who Answers to Women? Gender and accountability", 22.7 per cent women were holding ministerial berths in the UAE and 22.2 per cent in Kuwait compared to 18.8 per cent in the US and Japan, 12.5 in Switzerland, 11.6 in France 6.7 in the UK.

The beacon of democracy and equal rights is being outshined by the backwards nations it is trying to change (rather unsuccessfully I might add, but that's another story for another day). In the words of DJ Qualls, "Who's the bitch now?"

Dmitri Martin Is So Right

I'm watching some movie called Sex & Death 101, and, on the whole, it's pretty good. It's a movie about a guy who gets an email of a list of the women he will ever sleep with. (Pretty good concept and a list I would not mind getting, but that's another story for another day. On the other hand, I don't want to know. Or do I? I don't know; I'm confused.) One of the women is a veterinarian named Miranda, played by Leslie Bibb, who is quite the looker. However, she's no Leighton Meester. Allow me to explain.

The comic Dmitri Martin, as part of his stand-up routine, devised a graph that shows the correlation between "how good looking a girl is" to "how interesting a conversation about how cute her dog is." There's only so much a man can take.

Miranda is quite the looker, but she's just fucking annoying. Her conversations are absurd, her mannerisms annoying (she licks a spoon just so it doesn't feel left out when its washed with the used forks and knives- since no one uses a spoon at a cafe). Yeah, I know.

By the way, the dude doesn't even get to fuck her.

Yeah, I know.

Impressing The Lady Folk

"And in that moment, Dan was reminded once again why he wanted to write in the first place. It's for the same reason anybody does anything: to impress women."

I often wonder why, with few readers (methinks) and even fewer comments (meknows), I continue this blog. I already have another avenue in which I vent and rant (which only a few people know about I guess, but that's by design), so why do I continue writing?

Don't worry dear readers; this is not a bid adieu or a last post or nothing of this sort. (I realize I would be doing the world a great disservice by robbing it of this blog. Yes, I am that cocky.) I just wanted to write and reflect on the state of this blog (since we're in election season and all, state of the blog seems about right at this point). So, here goes.

One of the best television shows in recent memory, Sports Night (this post originally was going to be about television shows and the quality, or lack thereof, of the shows this fall - so far: Fringe is awesome, Gossip Girl (which I watch solely for the "talents" of Leighton Meester) kind of has no point so far, the never ending saga that is Prison Break is interesting, Entourage is, as always, a great half hour to curse at the life you are currently living and wish your life was more like the lives of the actors on that show. Wow that was a long tangent), is the source of the quote above, and I realized that that is why I continue to write: to impress women.

So, ladies, I hope you're impressed so far.

The NBA, NFL And Race

I was just watching this segment on Pardon The Interruption, the ESPN show which is one of my favorites. The segment talked about a YouTube video where Dallas Mavericks forward Josh Howard, with the Star Spangled Banner playing behind him, says "I'm black. We don't celebrate this shit." Now, mind you, I know that the statement is ignorant and arrogant at the same time, and numerous columnists around the country (Jason Whitlock, Scoop Jackson, possibly even PTI host Michael Wilbon) are probably going to write about it tomorrow, using Josh Howard as a bastion of what is wrong with athletes today and how they are all ignorant thugs. However, my main gripe is this: had Josh Howard been a receiver for the Dallas Cowboys, none of this would have happened. Josh Howard's words wouldn't have any effect on how the media and the fans view the American athlete today, just an effect on Josh Howard. Heck, the PTI guys were saying how David Stern, the commissioner of the NBA, should discipline Howard, something I'm sure they would never ask of NFL commissioner Roger Goodell.

Why is that? I don't understand how the NFL and its players get a free pass when they say something as ignorant as what Josh Howard said on that video, yet when it is someone from the NBA, he is labeled as a thug and a cancer, etc. I know the NFL is known as the Teflon league, but why is that?

Yeah, some people might point to the fact that NBA players have no equipment covering their faces, that people know who the NBA players are. That's as bullshit as the statements of Howard. You mean to tell me people wouldn't recognize Terrell Owens (whose pornographic escapades have been documented on Deadspin) or Tony Romo (who is by now an Us Weekly staple) if they were to appear in a YouTube video saying the same thing? B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T.

For crying out loud, in the past year alone, NFL players have been involved in a hit-and-run (Lance Briggs and his totaled Lamborghini), caught serving alcohol to minors (Matt Leinart), and caught shirtless at a club drinking tequila (the recently suicidal Vince Young).

I don't know what to make of this hypocricy. I just hope that the NFL is held as accountable, and buried in the newspapers just as the other leagues are, when their players are caught doing boneheaded things.

The Case For McCain

With election season in full swing, and only two months until November 4th, a lot of people have been making the case that John McCain, the Republican nominee, is a clone of George W. Bush, who is the current president and widely considered to be the reason the United States of America is in the state it is in. The economy is at an all-time low, support for the Iraq War / the Fight Against Terrorism is even lower, and the state of the union in general is in shambles. With that in mind, I wouldn't expect anybody to vote for McCain, who at first glance appears to want to continue on the path "blazed" by Bush. The one thing, however, that is going to stop McCain from doing that (if he indeed gets elected) is the fact that Bush has something McCain lacks: Balls.

Yep, that's the difference between George Bush and John McCain, and it's a big one. (No pun intended.)

More so than perhaps any other president, George Bush is convinced that his course of action for this country is the right one. He had the "balls" to exercise presidential power to the full extent (of something, because it sure isn't the law), convinced that every step he takes would propel America to a higher standard, polls and public opinion be damned. Some people might call John McCain a maverick, a rebel. Well, the fact of the matter is, the true maverick is George Bush.

In his article for Esquire magazine, "What Bush Meant," Ron Suskind retells the story at one meeting between Bush and his advisors. Suskind wrote,

"According to senior administration officials who learned of the encounter soon after it happened, President Bush looked at the man. "I don't ever want to hear you use these words in my presence again," he said.
"What words, Mr. President?"
"Bad policy," President Bush said. "If I decide to do it, by definition it's good policy. I thought you got that."

I can never imagine John McCain, the guy who chose Sarah Palin as his vice president after he learned that the Republican party would not endorse a McCain / Leiberman ticket, doing that.

In fact, John McCain is exactly the kind of person the Democratic nominee for President in 2004, John Kerry, was. Think about it for a second. Both served in Vietnam, both were seen as unfit to lead the nation (McCain because of his age, and Kerry, well, for his Kerryness), and both seemed to flip-flop on certain things throughout their campaigns (in the case of Kerry, he's a flip-flopper throughout his political career).

Here's a piece of advice for the Democrats: if you want to really hurt John McCain's chances, tell the voters that yes, John McCain is for change. There's a caveat, however.

The kind of change that John McCain stands for is exactly the type of change Americans don't want. Americans don't want a waif for a president, especially not in these climates. They need someone who will stand firm after every decision he makes, who won't cower and change course because of mounting pressures from his party (pressure from the public is different, though, because the President is there for the people who elected him).

They need someone like The Decider.

They need someone like George W. Bush.

The End Of The World

The Kobe LeBron Debate

Full disclosure: The author of the quote below is Bill Simmons, one of the ESPN writers that I have a weird reading relationship with. I used to love reading Simmons- even bought his book in hardcover, something usually reserved for books I really want to read. However, in the past year, his shit just got too homey, which is fine if you're writing for a local paper or a blog, but not when you're writing for a national outlet like ESPN. I realize his schtick is that he's the Boston Sports Guy, but if you move to ESPN and for there on in are referred to as The Sports Guy, you can't shove Boston down your audience's throats. No, this is not another anti-Boston rant, just my take on why I tune Simmons out after two or three paragraphs- and navigate away- yet still click on anything new he has written, which is how I stumbled upon this quote:

"Team USA had an alpha dog issue. Was this Kobe's team or LeBron's? Fast-forward to 8:13 left: Fernandez's three cuts the lead to two; the crowd is going bonkers. Spain's bench react like a euphoric 15-seed during a March Madness upset, and the U.S. calls timeout. All along, my biggest fear had been a tight game and multiple USA guys saying, "I got it!" Instead, everyone deferred to Kobe, who made some monster plays to clinch it. Know that in the history of the NBA we have never had the best player alive argument resolved so organically. Incredible. Kobe, you have the Lord of The Flies conch. Use it wisely."

So, Big Lead commentators, there you have it. 

Kobe > LeBron

CERN Has No Regard For Human Life

I am not an avid reader of Time or Newsweek per se (I was an Economist fan first and foremost), but this asinine article deserves its own rant. (Plus, I wrote an article recently that curbed my use of I, so I am in a kind of I overload right now. I don't like talking about myself all that much, but I do think I am an awesome subject to write about, and no one can write me better than me. So yeah, I'm going to be saying I a lot these couple of days. Bare with me. For the person who is the cause of the I overload, damn you. You know who you are.)

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. On September 10th- yes, this Wednesday- some European fucks from CERN (which officially is the European Organization for Nuclear Research but for all intents and purposes is Murders of the Human Race) are switching on the Large Hadron Collider (eerily close to Hardon Collider which is fitting, since those fucks are dicks) which is a large particle accelarator meant to recreate the Big Bang, Stephen Hawking's theory of how the universe came about. They are doing this for research purposes.

These fucks are recreating something that might kill us (through an ever-increasing black hole) for their shot at a prize at the Science Fair (in this case, the Nobel). They want to gain human knowledge by killing quite possibly the entire human race.

I know, I know. The article says that the only way that would happen is in an extreme case and the fucks at CERN says that the chances of it happening are slim to none.

My main gripe with this is why even tempt it. Haven't they heard of Murphy's Law, that anything that can go wrong, will?

Eng-Arabic

“It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.”

-R.E.M., “It’s The End of the World As We Know It”

The Arabic language, quite possibly the richest, most descriptive language still alive today, has been invaded. The same western forces that have tried to influence every facet of our life are trying to inject their language into ours, embed it in our daily vernacular. It’s not something that I’d be complaining about if it was being adopted by our people the right way, but, like everything else Kuwait seemingly does, the assimilation of English into Kuwaiti culture is being done in a half-assed manner.

This is not a recent phenomenon, either. You might think this started with the advent of IRC (there’s an acronym I never thought I’d be typing again) and the subsequent onslaught of instant messaging programs, but you would be wrong. Oh, yes, dear reader, you totally missed the boat.

When I was growing up, I was more or less put in the care of a Filipino nanny, as both my parents worked for a living. I didn’t mind that; it’s just that, at such a young age (I was three years old at the time, I guess) my vocabulary skills and mastery of the language- both Arabic and English- wasn’t what you’d call stellar.

My nanny wasn’t exactly Noam Chomsky in that regard, either. (Google him, but Chomsky is possibly the greatest linguist alive today.) Her vernacular consisted of a few words of Arabic- your yalla’s and wain’s- and broken English, the kind of English that a fresh off the boat Cuban (I live in Miami so this is the closest example I can come up with) would probably know.

Right off the bat, you can see where kids nowadays get their sense of Eng-Arabic. The parents aren’t helping either since instead of correcting their kids’ use of the languages, they encourage it by speaking to them in that same manner. A thirty year old educated mother of two suddenly turns into a illiterate soul, uttering such marvelous gems as “OK, you want play with friends? You eat and finish homework first.”

Then the kid turns thirteen and is now chatting on the internet, where he begins to pick up other idiosyncrasies like Eng-Arabic typing, with its 3s and 7s and system of numbers standing in for different letters. All the while, the lessons he picked up from Mary, his well meaning but non-native speaker of a nanny, are still intact.

This phenomenon reminds me of a story my Advertising class teacher once told us. There were these kids in the fourth grade who, when asked to spell the word relief, spelled it R-O-L-A-I-D-S.
Now, you’re wondering how on earth would these kids confuse relief with Rolaids.

Well, apparently, their excuse was that they saw it on TV since Rolaids, a brand of antacid, had an ad campaign asking consumers “How do you spell relief? R-O-L-A-I-D-S. “

Let’s just hope we don’t excuse ourselves for talking the way we do because we heard it from our nannies.

The American Job Market Is Fiercely Competitive

This is Brittney Lane. Brittney is a 22 year old recent graduate of Harvard University. She graduated Harvard with a 4.0 GPA, only the sixth person to do so in 3o years. With such an acclaimed resume, you would think that Ms. Lane would have numerous job offers waiting for her. 

Well, you'd be wrong. 

Brittney Lane works at Blockbuster Video.

Why I Don't Buy The Supposed Regime Change At Barcelona

I came into the season with very high hopes. Yes, it is true that the team lost Deco and Ronaldinho (and Zambrotta as well as Thuram) but still, on paper, and with the coaching changes set forth by new manager Pep Guardiola, the team was OK. In fact, it was better than OK. I'd venture to say that it has the potential to be better than last year's.

Two games into the season, I don't see it. It's early, yes, I know, but that feeling of underachieving, which the team was guilty of last year, was still there. 

The team did add some integral parts, though. Zambrotta's place in the line up is now being occupied by Daniel Alves, who is, at 24, younger than Zambrotta with a lot more skills to boot. Deco, who is lighting it up for Chelsea right now and who, ultimately, was the midfield lynchpin last year and thus will be missed even more than Ronaldinho, who at times appeared to take for granted his position as "Number 10" at Barca, is being replaced by a combination of Xavi, Iniesta, and new signing Alex Hleb, who played a similar role at Arsenal. 

With Messi back from injury, and Guardiola promising to incorporate Theirry Henry even more, this looks like a good team. On paper, at least. (They're also pretty good on Winning Eleven, but that's because Samuel Eto'o, like Affleck in Phantoms, is the bomb.)

As for their weaknesses, they're the same as they ever were. The absence of a true "number 9 striker," a guy who would plant himself in the box and bull his way towards a goal, is what is probably going to see their downfall. (This is where a David Trezeguet would have been ideal.)

Hopefully, like my Euro 2008 picks, I am wrong. Hopefully, Guardiola will back off his claims that the management didn't get him an ideal number 9 striker and realize that, in Eto'o and Henry, he possesses two of the most skilled players in the world, that Lionel Messi is quite possibly the most talented player in the world, and that his midfield, as currently constructed, is not too shabby. 

I know I hate to be wrong, but I'd love it this one time. 

Should I Be Reading More "Dear Abby"?

This is from the Philly.com edition of Dear Abby:

"DEAR ABBY: I'm hosting what's called a Naked Ladies Party. It's where all the women come over with all the clothing, accessories, jewelry, etc. they no longer want. We strip down to our skivvies, try on each other's stuff, then vote on who should get to keep it.

(Basically, we just swap items to get new ones.)

I have a very good friend I'd like to invite, but she is significantly larger than the rest of us and wouldn't fit into any of our clothes.

She acts like she's not sensitive about it, but I don't want to embarrass her by inviting her.

She and I work together and some of the women from work are invited, so she will find out about it.

I feel like no matter what I do, I'm going to hurt her feelings or put her in an embarrassing situation.

What should I do?"

Right now, I have no words to describe the elation of the discovery that there are women who host Naked Ladies Parties.

Gregory Marmalard

Every day I’m at the gym, I run into this girl that just takes my breath away. I don’t know anything about her personally, but I can describe her physical characteristics like no other. Did that make me sound like a stalker? Believe me, I’m not. Sally, my boss and also my best- and only girl- friend, can vouch for me. “If you weren’t so harmless- and so god damn nice-, I would have reported you to the cops years ago. But I know you, dude. You wouldn’t even harm a fly, and if she happened to be a female fly, forget about it. You’d cower under the table, quietly observing- and fucking lusting.”

Yeah, I know. I’m pathetic.

This girl was different, though. For once in my life (cue the corny Stevie Wonder music), I am tempted to talk to a female. Fuck my neuroses. When I see her, its like I am no longer Woody Allen. I am fucking Brad Pitt. Fuck that. Brad Pitt ain’t got shit on me.

Of course, that is when my workout partner, who fucking doubled for Brad Pitt, would put me in my place. “I know what you’re thinking, broski (did I mention he was a fucking frat boy douche bag), but I’ll save you the trouble. Read my lips, dude. No. Fucking. Way.”

I hate that guy.

Why is he my workout partner- and my roommate? You try living in Williamsburg on my salary alone. Shit is impossible. Plus, he knows the right people in this town- the kind of people who can get you into the Tenjunes, the Pink Elephants, and the Bungalow 8s (where I can lust over perfect ten models he takes home and fucks while nursing a thirty dollar drink at my leisure).

Yeah, I know, I’m pathetic.

One day, David (that would be my frat boy roommate) felt a little under the weather and didn’t feel up for the gym. I had two options here. I could go to the gym by myself, get a good workout, and ogle my crush from afar (maybe I would even get to talk to her). The other option, the one fucking Gregory Marmalard wanted me to take, was to get him a “uber smoothie” (his words, not mine) with “like, a bunch of antioxidants and flaxseed oil and all that good shit” (he was, like all other frat boys, a pill popping, ‘roid raging, cocaine snorting douche- but his drugs were good, the best in the city) and chill at home and watch the X Games.

I think I’ll take door number one.

At the gym, I glimpse my crush heading towards me and immediately begin to panic. “Excuse me,” she said with the voice that can only be described as angelic, “mind if I work in?”

“Ummm… uuuh… Yeah… As a matter of fact, uh, it’s all yours; I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to do that, dude. It’s fine. Hi, my name is Cassandra.”

She extended her hand and I reluctantly shook it. This was beginning to be awkward.

“Hi.”

“Listen, I’m sorry if this seems too forward, but I’m new here and I was wondering if you could show me around the city. I just moved to Manhattan from Palo Alto. I work at an advertising agency, a small firm called Hyperion, like the publishing house. Ever heard of it?”

Of course, I’ve heard of Hyperion. Saatchi & Saatchi, the firm I work at, were thinking of buying that company. In fact, in two days, Cassandra would be laid off and she would move back to wherever she was from. Of course, I didn’t tell her that. What I did say was, “Uh yeah.”

“So that’s a yes on showing me around the city?” She asked in what some normal men would interpret as a flirty manner.

“Yeah. Uuuh. Meet me at the, uuh, juice bar when you’re done with your workout. We’ll set something up.”

“It’s a date. Oh, by the way, bananas and milk with a fiber boost, in case you were wondering.” She winked at me.

Wait. What? This chick liked me? The woman of my dreams actually liked me.

I could tell you that I met her at the juice bar, and she told me all about Stanford, and I about Colorado. I could tell you that she had a great time on our tour of the city, and that she held my hand while crossing the street and brushed up on me on more than one occasion. I could tell you that, but I’d be lying.

As soon as she was done talking, I took off to the men’s locker room, showered, and got the fuck out of Dodge.

Yeah, I know.

I’m pathetic.

Person Gregory Marmalard

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