AAAAND... SCENE

A few months ago I was on a conference call buried in paperwork (read: fucking around on Facebook) when I noticed that I had a friend request from some random dude. I normally don't accept them from people I don't know, but when I checked our mutual friends I realized that he was the guy who my friend had wanted to set me up with a while ago. I remembered that it didn't really pan out because the conversation went something like this:

Friend (who will not be getting a holiday card from me this year): "Remember when you stopped by my office the other day? One of the guys there thought you were hot and I told him you were single."

Me: "Uh, thanks for checking with me. How old is he?"

Friend: "I think, like, 30."

Me: "OK, what's he like?"

Friend: "Well, he goes to the gym."

Me: "OK, and?"

Friend: "Well, I don't really know him that well."

Me: "Does he have illegitimate kids and/or a criminal record?"

Friend: "I don't think so."

Me: "Sounds comforting. Alright, what the hell. You have to double with us, though. And I'm bringing Mace."

Luckily, this charming potential Casanova never came calling, so I forgot all about him, until that intriguing friend request. I accepted it and perused his profile to get a better handle on this guy.

His profile scared the crap out of me- he was more Jersey Shore than The Situation and Snookie combined. All his "pages" on Facebook were about living in our town, being Italian and gangster, and watching wrestling. My brother used to watch wrestling, but that was when he was six. Dude also had no pictures. He knew what I looked like- that was an unfair advantage. I didn't agree to biological warfare.

The next day he got me on Facebook chat, saying that he saw me when I came into his office once and asked my friend about me. He seemed kind of cool, but his grammar, typing and spelling were atrocious- using commas instead of periods, incorrect letters and words, etc. I wondered whether this guy even graduated high school. College, of course, was out of the question.

Over the course of a couple of weeks, I talked to Brainy Smurf some more, trying to ignore his appalling abuse of the English language. It turned out that we both loved 80's music, so he started bombarding my inbox with Youtube clips of videos. One was cool, two was enough, ten was stalker lite. He was obsessed with Van Halen and wouldn't shut the fuck up about them, even when I said that I wasn't that big of a fan.

In one specific conversation, he told me he had to pull out his old guitar and start playing again- he was really "graving it."

Oh, God. Oh dear, dear God. THIS is who my friend wanted me to end up with? I was insulted. I mean, I know I'm in my twenties, and single, and my clock technically should be ticking at this point, but come on. I'm not THAT old. I'll stay single, thanks.

After that the red flags just kept on coming, and I realized our lifespan together truly was somewhere in the vicinity of the next ten minutes. Each one was a bigger shitbomb than the last:



A) He looked like Daughtry (This came on the heels of when I asked him why he had no pictures on Facebook. He explained that it was because he "didn't have a Webcam." Later, I told all this to a friend at work, and he gave me a weird look and told me that Daughtry is the bald guy from American Idol.)

B) He had a cat

C) He never went out during the week (I have a job that almost always requires me to be out of town on the weekends)

D) He had no local friends

E) HE LIVED WITH HIS MOTHER



I'd already mentally deleted Brainy Smurf from my life and was trying to contemplate a polite way to let him know. We'd been going back and forth on Facebook chat for two months, and I wasn't down with this E-Harmony bullshit. He also had the incredibly annoying habit of calling me (he'd already gotten my number from my friend, unfortunately) at 10:00 every Friday and Saturday night to invite me to go out, regardless of the fact that I would tell him every week that I wasn't available, and that he had to let me know in advance. His excuse? "I had to help out my mom." Every time. Was she sick? Crippled? A cult leader? No- she had a sore shoulder. Even my mom, who's in mini-grandbabies mode, was horrified at the concept of my going on one date with this guy.

Imagine if I wound up dating him, and I had to sit around all night every night waiting for him to finish catering to Mommy? I vote no. Also, he sounded gay on the phone. Cut! That's a wrap.



Because this guy has more than lived up to his "Brainy Smurf" nickname, I've decided to just ignore him until he gets the hint, sometime in the next twenty years. I've never actually spoken to him on the phone (I always send him to voice mail), and we've never gone out, so technically I don't owe him shit. I am going to put out a hit on my friend, though.

PS- for an even more hysterical disaster of a date, check out my friend Annabelle's blog. The two of us should form a club.

THE DUMBEST SPORTS MOMENTS OF MY LIFETIME

The NFL Draft is tomorrow, which really excites me because I'm an enormous football fan. The Jets look like real contenders this year, so I feel that I should warn all of you that if I haven't posted in a while come Football Season, I've been arrested for trying to sell myself for Superbowl tickets. If any of you happen to be seriously loaded, email me now and I'll send you my address for bail money in advance.

In honor of the Draft, I was going to post a list of the Best Sports Moments Of All Time, but that wouldn't be funny. So instead, I'm giving you guys the Top 15 Dumbest Sports Moments Of My Lifetime- the stupid decisions made by the biggest idiots that led to horrible moments in sports from the 1980's- early 2000's.

I've included football, baseball and hockey. I've left out basketball because I don't follow the sport and the only things I know about the NBA are that the Knicks suck ass, Kobe Bryant plays for the Lakers, and Space Jam is a God-awful movie.

Enjoy, and feel free to comment on anything you feel I may have left out.

The New York Islanders Hire Mike Millbury

I know a couple of Islanders fans (who will admit to it in public, at least), and I can't say the name "Mike Millbury" without them doing a full-on Exorcist twist. All Islanders fans hate him because he trades away all their prospects, who later go on to be NHL superstars, for players that turn out to suck. He's also a complete asshole and insults everyone (I can't stand him because of his "Screw the Rangers" quote). One of his most ill-advised trades was the Roberto Luongo deal- Millbury traded him to the Panthers after a year for two guys who totally blew. Luongo, of course went on to win a bunch of trophies and play in the Olympics. Nice going, Millbury. He also came under fire for choosing Rick DiPietro first in the draft over Marion Gaborik (who's now with my New York Rangers- SCORE!).

Millbury now works for a Canadian television broadcasting system because it's Canada, and they haven't figured out that no one else will take him. It's true; he used to get booed by Isles fans at the Nassau Coliseum. That requires a special kind of talent.



Manon Rheaume Joins The NHL (Sort Of)

I grew up a hockey fan. My tastes gravitate more towards baseball and football now, but I'll still check out a Ranger game when I get a chance. I wish more girls were into the sport, because it's exciting and there's a ton of action, but it's definitely more guy-oriented.

Apparently the NHL had the same idea as me, because in 1992, Manon Rheaume was signed as a free agent to the Tampa Bay Lightning. She was in the net for one exhibition game that year and another in 1993, and was pulled early from both. Later, the GM for the Lightning, Phil Esposito, admitted the whole thing was a publicity stunt (really???)

Look, I'm all for equality, but women and men shouldn't mix in professional sports, especially hockey. This was the early 90's, and the NHL was pretty violent. No matter how much padding she had, there was still a chance that Rheaume was going to get her ass beat- or even worse, that the rules would be changed to accommodate the gender difference. By acknowledging that Rheaume's signing was all for marketing, it defeated the purpose, anyway, so why bother? Little girls that watched her play still had their hopes dashed and were being told that men and women still had to be segregated.

It would have been better if the NHL had followed in the footsteps of the NBA and made a league specifically for women, but their biggest problem is lack of marketing. Of professional sports, the NHL has the least amount of followers, and therefore the least amount of publicity and advertising. If the NHL doesn't have the payroll to spend on their male players, they definitely don't have the money to spend on women, and therefore can't draw the crowd they so desperately need. The Manon Rheaume stunt might have worked with a bigger payroll and a wider audience.




Barry Zito Signs The Highest Pitching Contract In History

Every baseball fan remembers the 2006 Barry Zito deal. Zito started his professional career in the year 2000 with the Oakland A's, becoming an awesome enough pitcher to capture the Cy Young two years later. He made the All-Star team three times and never missed a start.

In 2006, he signed with agent Scott Boras, whose clients include A-Rod, Manny and Barry Bonds. Boras negotiated a deal for Zito with the San Fransisco Giants, which at the time was the highest contract in MLB history. The Giants and Zito agreed to a seven-year deal for $126 million, plus an $18 million option for 2014 with a $7 million buyout. Zito was 28 at the time.

His first game after singing this asinine contract, of course, was for shit. He lasted only four innings and the Giants lost 15-3. In 2008, he began the season 0-6 with a 7.53 ERA. So far this season, his ERA is 1.86, but it's only 2 weeks in, so we'll see what happens. Fortunately, the Giants' pitching has exponentially increased and some baseball experts are even picking them to win the NL West this year. While I don't know if they'll go that far (they do share a division with the Dodgers and the Rockies), I do predict that they're going to have an awesome season and may make the playoffs in 2011.

No thanks to Zito, though. Way to spend your money wisely, San Fransisco.



The XFL

Vince McMahon woke up one morning and thought, "how can I make people take wrestlers even less seriously? I know! I'll give them even dumber nicknames and let them keep smashing into each other for a few hours, but this time with footballs!" And thus, the XFL was born- and died after one year, because no one gave a shit.

They probably should have stuck to smashing chairs.

Rick Peterson's Parents Decide To Procreate

Rick Peterson is to Mets fans as Mike Millbury is to Islanders fans. He was the pitching coach for the Mets from 2003-2008, when he was fired, thank God. I practically threw a party. His contract was actually extended in 2007, and everyone was like, "What the hell?" Luckily, that didn't take. Now he's with the Brewers. I feel sorry for them.

Anyway, talking about him fills me with a seething rage. The main reason all Mets fans hate him so much is the Scott Kazmir/Victor Zambrano trade of 2004. Penis-son claimed he could "fix" Zambrano "in 10 minutes" and acquired him from the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, whereas in his stellar opinion, Scott Kazmir, the Mets' top prospect, wasn't ready for the Major Leagues. So the trade was orchestrated, and as everyone knows by now, Kazmir was immediately promoted to the majors and became one of the most promising pitchers in baseball. You know where he's going as soon as his contract is up.

Naturally, Zambrano was an epic failure, and his performance with the Mets culminated three years later with a season-ending injury. Hooray! PS- he's not playing anymore. This is easily the worst baseball trade of my life.

Rick Peterson deserves to be guillotined. Everyone who's ever watched a Mets game from the Shea Stadium side agrees with me.

Also, I checked his Wikipedia page and it says he was born in New Jersey. Figures.

Does anyone else realize that he looks like Joey Buttafuoco?

Dancing With The Stars

Dancing With The Stars is second only to American Idol as the Reality Show that I Hate the Most. First of all, they stopped showing the recap episodes of Lost to make room for this crap. Second, there's always some football player on this show in a pair of tights and some sparkly leotard twinkle-toeing around to some cheesy-ass music and therefore rendering it impossible to take any of this disaster seriously. From what I've heard, usually the athlete wins, too. Ugh, stop. Stick to the field. I like my sports sporty.

Yeah, THIS will make you substantially less annoying.

Plaxico Burress Shoots Himself

Athletes are always appearing in the news for doing bonehead things- steroids, cheating, or if you're A-Rod, steroids and cheating. I don't get it- all that money, and you're a total retard. If I had a kajillion dollars, and I were in my off-season, I would buy a house on a private island and hire Jason Statham to massage me and feed me peeled grapes for three months.

The stupidest news story regarding an athlete in the last fifteen years has to be Plaxico Burress. In 2007, the Giants beat the Patriots in the Superbowl. I hate the Patriots, and my dad is a Giants fan, so this was doubly awesome for my family. During the subsequent season, he went to a nightclub with a loaded, unlicensed handgun and accidentally shot himself in the leg. This was a brilliant move that landed him two years in jail and a release from his team, which was coming off pretty much the greatest high you could think of.

First of all, hasn't this moron ever heard of a safety? Every gun has one. I'm a New Yorker; I would know. Second, with all the money he's made from football, are you really going to tell me he couldn't have hired a bodyguard and/or couldn't afford to get a license for his gun?

Dumbass.




Brett Favre Goes To The Jets

Brett Favre is a whiny bitch. He claims that every year with the NFL is his last, and then- surprise!- he's back. He's like a puppy that won't stop peeing on the rug. He cries during all his retirement speeches when we all know he'll make the same one next year. Ugh, just LEAVE.

Jets fans hate Favre because in 2008, he signed with the team in exchange for a fourth-round draft pick. At first we were all psyched because hey- it's BRETT FAVRE. The guy is a surefire Hall-Of-Famer and the Jets haven't exactly been giving us bragging rights since 1969. Who cares if he's 75 years old? It's BRETT FAVRE. SCORE!

The season started off great, and we won eight of our first 11 games. Then Father Time kicked in, and we lost four of our last five. We wound up losing the final game to the Dolphins and our old QB, Chad Pennington. It turned out Favre had been injured all season, and the Jets knew but didn't report it, which led to a fine from the NFL. So not only did Old Man River cost us our championship, but we lost money on him, too.

Favre announced his retirement, but instead of going away, like he promised, he was picked up by the Vikings, and led them to the 2009 NFC Championships. Considering he had spent over 15 years as a Packer, it was totally typical of him to almost lead his archrivals to the biggest game of the year. Meanwhile, we now have Dirty Sanchez, who got us thisclose to the Superbowl. Fingers crossed for 2011!

I predict a riot.

The Mighty Ducks Movie

Let me know which part of this scenario makes the most sense: An alcoholic lawyer played by Emilio Estevez is punished for drunk driving by being forced to babysit a bunch of degenerate kids with access to sharp and/or blunt objects (note: the part that makes the least sense is "played by Emilio Estevez"). Yeah, this should end well. The kids are played by Pacey from Dawson's Creek and a bunch of other people that you'll never hear from again unless you like bad TV movies. After Emilio's character bangs Pacey's mom, he begins to teach the kids "valuable life lessons," all the while learning crap about himself that no one cares about!

The funniest part of this movie is the actual hockey. The team comes up with a stealth move called The Flying V, which is not only really retarded if the team plans on winning, it's also glaringly illegal in the real sport. The team also has a victory cry that consists of them quacking. Yes, you really read that. For some reason, whoever greenlit this movie decided that it would be a stellar idea to make two more of them.

The only good concept to come out of this monstrosity is the NHL's Mighty Ducks of Anaheim, which was created in 1993 and for some reason named themselves after the film. The team has always been good- if they don't make the playoffs, they're at least competitive, and they won the Stanley Cup in 2007. I guess even they wised up though- they changed ownership in 2006 and reformed as the Anaheim Ducks.

Also, for all you Lost fans, Tom Friendly is in this movie- maybe he really needed a check.

Sadly, I used to think this movie was good. I was like, 8.

The NHL Lockouts

The NHL actually had two lockouts- one in 1994, and another one ten years later. They were both due to a salary cap- the owners wanted one; the players didn't (shock!). The Lockout of 1994 caused the season to be shortened to 48 games.

The Lockout of 2004 cancelled the entire season, including the Stanley Cup finals. The year before, $273 million dollars were spent just on players' salaries, and several teams were losing money. Negotiations were made back and forth, but no conclusions were reached. Ergo, no hockey for a year, and millions of sad fans. Finally, in July of 2005, a decision was made that a salary cap would be adjusted each year, and that there would also be a salary floor.

A Canadian poll revealed that 52% of fans blamed the players for the lockout, but they're Canadians, so you have to cut them some slack.

When you have a sport that is so under-appreciated already, you can't afford to cancel an entire season. Hockey needs all the attendance, and all the attention, it can get, and not having it at the fans' disposal is one of the dumbest moves you can make.



A-Rod Is Allowed Near Anything With A Vagina

Do I need to go on?

OK, then.



Joe Torre Writes A Tell-All

I hate on the Yankees constantly, but I used to respect Joe Torre. He managed his team extraordinarily well, and unlike Apeman Hank Steinbrenner, Torre always exuded a certain amount of class. I was impressed with the way he turned down the insulting final contract that the Yankees offered him, and I've always held a soft spot for the Dodgers (they are originally from Brooklyn, don't forget).

Then The Yankee Years came out. Torre basically sold out the Yankees and everyone involved in the organization, claiming that GM Brian Cashman "betrayed" him and spilling all sorts of crap about the players. For a guy that had been generally respected amongst the professional sports community, this was a pretty stupid move. The book was widely criticized, even though it made the New York Times Bestseller list. Figures- the Yankees probably elected our president, too. Is there anything they DON'T control?



Sports Apparel Is Geared Towards Female "Fans"

I'm all for women enjoying sports- I'd be a total hypocrite if I said that I wasn't. I love seeing girls at the ballpark or the rink or the field having a great time at the game, shit-talking the ref or the opposing team. However, all that can be ruined if said girl isn't dressed properly. I'm not saying she has to be in unflattering, baggy apparel, but what's up with all this pink, sparkly, tight-fitting bullshit? One of the worst moments in sports is when someone decided to make clothes that would appeal to the fake bimbo sports fan.

Wear your team logo in the appropriate colors. If you root for the Yankees (the worst offenders, BTW), do the regular navy and white. Don't wear heels and don't wear spaghetti straps (especially not to a football game- it's winter, dumbass). Women's sizes are OK- the clothes don't have to be huge- but don't go to a game to "look hot" for a guy, go because you support the team. The last time I checked, no team colors were "sequin lavendar."

One of the main reasons I hate the Yankees.

The 1994 Baseball Strike

1994 really sucked for me. I started junior high, which is a horrible ordeal no matter who you are because puberty sucks; my dog had just died like a month ago, and both hockey and baseball had shortened seasons. Like the NHL, the baseball strike was due to a salary cap. It resulted in no World Series, rioting fans, the use of replacement players and a shortened 1995 season.

The Montreal Expos, who up until that point had the highest record in the majors, had their World Series dreams crushed. They were also forced to lower their insanely meager payroll even further, and they never even came close to a title again. Now they're the Nationals, and they're god-awful.

The strike finally ended when the National Labor Relations Board filed a complaint against the owners. Crisis averted, and all was right with my world!

Looking back, this wasn't so much stupid as incredibly sad and nerve-wracking. I love baseball- it doesn't feel like summer without it.



Mascots

God, mascots are so obnoxious. I'm at the game because I want to see my team win- I have enough spirit already, thanks. I don't need some gay-ass cartoon character dancing around and getting in my face because I'm not doing The Wave (don't get me started on that one, BTW). Whoever came up with the idea of the mascot should be strung up by their balls. That's actually the one thing I don't mind about the Yankees- they don't have one.

I hate to admit it, but the team with the worst mascot is the Mets. It's just a stupid dude with a humongous baseball for a head. And the name? "Mr. Met." Real creative. That's definitely going to strike fear into the heart of the opposing team.

This shames me.

So there's my list- the 15 Dumbest Sports Moments Of My Lifetime. If there's anything you think I left off, feel free to post your comments. Or, if you disagree with me- actually, I don't care about that. Keep watching the game!

YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME

I don't feel the need to read magazines anymore. Sometimes when I'm flying or riding on a train I'll pick up an Entertainment Weekly or a Billboard, but that's it. Basically, magazines all tell me the same shit- I don't need to lose weight or have a boyfriend, but here are tips to lose weight and snag a boyfriend. No wonder girls are so confused.

Cosmo is probably the worst- it's always the same headlines, worded slightly differently, that let you know exactly what your guy likes in bed. Hint: it's sex. I'm all for being creative, but some of that stuff is ridiculous: "Grab it and twist!" I don't know about you, but I never wanted to end my night in the emergency room, unless it involves me and a very hot doctor. Also, the surveys they do are ludicrous- they claim to interview "real men" about what they "really notice" about women- and not one of them ever mentions a gigantic rack. Those weren't my eyes you were trailing drool into for the last twenty minutes.



I recently had to take a train to visit my mom, and I went to the newsstand to pick up some marginal reading. I settled on Blender- at least it's about music, kind of. While I was standing there, I noticed the other magazines on the stand- does anyone remember Tiger Beat? I totally read that like, 20 years ago! Anyway, it's still around, and so is 16, and BOP, and all the shit I looked through when I was a kid. The same people aren't on the cover, though; I listened to Debbie Gibson and New Kids on the Block (don't lie, you know you did too). Honestly, I didn't know who the fuck any of these kids were. Some of them looked like they were barely in middle school.

Maybe I'm alone in this, but it seems as if there's a hierarchy of child celebrity/pornography and the lengths that they'll go to to reach that status:

I) Child Pornography

II) Child Beauty Pageants

III) Child Actors/Singers

IV) Suri Cruise

What the fuck is up with that one, BTW? She's three and wearing lipstick and high heels to match her $300 dresses and peacoats. When I was three I was wearing Flapdoodles and OshKosh and playing in the mud. I understand that Tom Cruise is dressing vicariously through her, but that's just not right.



What I really don't get about this whole "kiddie worship" deal is this whole pop music business. The Jonas Brothers are all sinfully ugly and their music sucks, but they have Disney up their ass, so they should be OK for a while. All the High School Musical dudes are most likely cocksnatchers, but as long as they keep it hidden, little girls will continue to love them. Miley Cyrus seems to have no discernable talent whatsoever, and she's a gigantic whore, but her fanbase is so huge that even after Disney inevitably sues her after her sex tape and her naked pictures come out, she'll still be set for life. The marketing behind all these kids makes my head spin- they've even managed to transcend their "talent" (HA!) into an adult fanbase. I hang out with people in their thirties that listen to Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber, and they refer to these people by their first names, like they're friends. I'm ashamed to even write that sentence.

Speaking of Justin Bieber, have any of you seen this kid? First of all, I don't even know what he does. Does he act? Sing? Sell lifted car parts? Orchestrate suicide bombings? I'd never even heard of him until like, two months ago. Second, do girls really find him attractive? Look at this little punk:



He looks like a six-year-old girl. I could kick his ass! That "gang" sign he's making is laughable. I get that as someone in my twenties I'm past the demographic that his marketing team is going for, but I can admit when a kid is decent looking. Check out his People magazine spread:



He looks like a borderline retard with a lesbian seagull haircut. And seriously, what is this kid doing with a People magazine cover? Malcolm McLaren died earlier this week; where's his cover? I'm offended for him. The entire publishing industry should be ashamed of themselves. (If you don't know who Malcolm McLaren is, stop reading and Google him. The man was a visionary and should be celebrated.)

I've heard this kid interviewed a bunch of times and he really thinks he's hot shit. I'd like to shoot him out of a cannon or take a tire iron to his face. According to the People article, his mom had him as a teenager- if that's true, then Justin Bieber is one of the greatest arguments for birth control I've ever seen.

I know my rant isn't going to change anything. I'd just like to see the occasional talented "celebrity" lauded instead of a little twelve-year-old who sings about butterflies or whatever. At least Debbie Gibson produced her own shit, although now she's in Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus, so draw your own conclusions.

OOH... THREE STRIKES!

Don't call it a comeback... really.

Those that know me know that there are a few things that get me really riled up. One is child beauty pageants. Another is the state of the film industry (what the hell is up with all these remakes and sequels?), and the big one, the one that will really get me in your face, is when anyone insults any of my sports teams. I was raised as a huge sports fan, and I don't appreciate being reminded when the teams that I root for suck.

There's this other blog that I visit pretty frequently called Living With Balls. The guy that keeps it is pretty hilarious, and the only real beef I have with him is that he's a huge Yankees fan, but hey- no one is perfect except for me. One of his latest posts was titled "Love or Hate the Yankees?", so I had to comment. Miraculously, I managed to keep it pretty civil. I basically called them out for buying 20-year-olds while ignoring their growing problems and having those bimbo fans that pretend to know about baseball because the Yankees are the most famous team in professional sports. I did, however, cop to the fact that my lifelong Yankees hatred could be partially due to my love for the Mets. See? Everyone wins!

Yesterday I went back to that post to see if anyone else hated the Yankees, and some girl had left an essay-length rant entitled "Why You Can't Hate The Yankees" (I'm sorry, I didn't know it was illegal. I'll stop immediately). She went on to pick apart the Mets in a dissertation that made no sense, spouting off crap she obviously got from watching five minutes of ESPN.

See, kids? It's worse than drunk driving!

I didn't want to start any shit on somebody else's site, but in my own blog I can say whatever the fuck I want, so I've copied her asinine response (her bullshit is in bold) and I'm addressing it here. I did leave a short answer telling her to calm the fuck down on the other site, but now I'm just going to go nuts. I hope she stumbles across this, so I'll address all my comments to her.

Here's my original comment (which he agreed with, BTW):

Don’t kick me off your site or anything, but I hate the Yankees. Not because I’m a Mets fan (that’s probably part of it though), but because they’re the Hugh Hefner of professional sports. Instead of dealing with their 80-year-old roster, they go out and get 20 year olds with their jillion-dollar payroll. Also, their fans are incredibly annoying. They’re always screaming about their 27 championships and God forbid they don’t win? The fans won’t shut up about how they were “robbed.”

Also, the Yankees are always the team that girls who don’t really like baseball always go to in order to impress guys. You know the ones- “I love baseball! I like when Derek Jeter scores a goal in the Superbowl!” Derek Jeter and A-Rod are always the only players they know because they’re “hot”, but try asking these idiots what positions they play. They’re always wearing the stupid pink sparkly Yankees hats and midriff tops at games. Ugh.

And that is why I hate the Yankees.

And here's her ridiculousness. Just for fun, let's see how many grammatical errors you guys can point out. I've done the first one for you.

girlygirl520 says:
WHY YOU CAN’T HATE THE YANKEES
1) Many girls who are Yankee fans are NOT like this. Those are not Yankee fans, those are bimbos. I am a female and have shared many of John’s nostalgic moments watching the Yankees with my grandfather and uncles… Yankees were a bloodline. I watched Chuck Knoblouch screw up many easy plays in the outfield, Scott Brosius, Tino Martinez, Bernie Williams, Paul O’Neill and countless others that I “fell in love with” prior to Derek Jeter ever becoming the name he is today create magic memories. TO THIS DAY, one of my favorite Yankee memories is watching the 1996 World Series with my family…

Can you read? I never said ALL female Yankees fans, I pointed out the select morons, which appear to be around 90% of all their female "fans." You're obviously not one of them; congratulations. By the way, your name-dropping isn't impressive. Move to LA, where people care about that crap. Also, learn proper grammar; your "create magic memories" sentence doesn't make sense.

2) If you notice, these “female fans” are becoming the trend among all baseball teams because bottom line girls who want impress guys and besides sex, baseball is a man’s turn-on. For the Mets, David Wright and Dan Murphy have become to the male icons for female sexual fantasies (and of course, girls studying aimlessly about their history to impress a guy). I’m sure it’s not as evident because the Yankees AND their fan base are more under the microscope than any other baseball… or sports organization… in the world. Just to give you an idea, I know quite a few people that work for the Mets Organization that are females that are David Wright fans not because of his stats but because of how his ass looks in his pants, and how he “sticks it out while at bat.” They also probably couldn’t name more than 4 more pple on their team either.

OK, A) who thinks Daniel Murphy is hot? And B) I also have a friend who works for the Yankees Organization who's banged half the guys on the team, including your precious Paul O'Neill, and still doesn't know the trade deadline. I agree, all teams have girl fans like that, but they're much more rampant with the Yankees. BTW, trying to scalp tickets in the Citifield parking lot doesn't mean you work for the Mets Organization. Try again.

Ugh. You KNOW she has a shitload of these.

3) As a Met fan, let’s look at how your organization spent their monies the last 5 years in order to do exactly what you claim the Yankees have done which is buy championships. (Buying 20 year olds to make up for their 80 year old roster… Franco, anyone?) The last upstanding season produced from the Mets is probably the Epic 3rd pitch past Beltran in the 2006 Division Championships… the pitch heard round the world. From 2007 to 2009 the team has seen an epic collapse. I for one have worked at the Met Organization last year, and do you know what chorus echoed in the former Shea stadium and current new Citifield? “Yankees suck.” Despite adding another title to their tally, I believe Met fans have much more to worry about than how the the “Yankees suck.” The Mets suffered one of the most epic collapses in history last year after Sports Illustrated projected them as the World Series champions, after going out and buying and trying player after player while more injuries plagued their staff, after widespread hirings and firings of coaches, trainers, and everything in between… no one can still fight that the Mets have had their share of overpriced contracts in which most of these individuals still sit on the DL list…. Beltran and Reyes still remain out in the beginning of 2010…and Murphy has recently added to that list. And SINCE I was a Yankee fan that supported the Mets organization, I watched all of the behind-the-scenes footage of what the Met organization is and what it is trying to be. Despite the fact that you and every other Met fan may disagree, the Mets Organization is trying to make the Mets the Yankees version 2.0… from building a stadium filled with nostalgia of their epic past, a Rotunda that houses a player that has no affiliation with Mets baseball (only simply because shea/citifield are off the Jackie Robinson pkwy) trying to implement a “no smoking policy” in the beginning of 2009 in the birth of Citifield which was thrown out quicker than Bobby V when he argues a call, and possibly the best, Fred Wilpon suspending 2 employees last year for putting fans in a shot with shirts that read, “I’m still calling it Shea.” I’m sorry, but shouldn’t the Mets fans be allowed to celebrate the good memories about their baseball history? Not if you are Wilpon, focus on their future which up to this point has not looked so good.

This part really pissed me off. First of all, how can this moron say that the Mets "bought" championships when we haven't won anything in ten years? I never claimed we were a better team than the Yankees- I'm not retarded. I am aware of our epic collapse over the last few years and I hate the fact that my heart has been continually broken come October. I am, however, saying that it's a fact that Major League Baseball is basically the farm team for the Yankees because of their bazillion dollar payroll. Every team has overpriced contracts and aging players, but the Yankees are known for it.

Also, if you really were so in the loop with how the Mets spent their "monies" (god, that sounds so pretentious), you would know that the Wilpon family got raked by Madoff and has no money to spend. "Yankees 2.0," my ass.
Shea Stadium, while iconic to Mets fans, was a piece of shit. The seats were disgusting and it smelled like the town really should be named "Flushing." It was time for a change. Why wouldn't the stadium be filled with "Mets nostalgia?" It's a METS STADIUM. What team should it have, the Indians? Yeah, the no-smoking thing didn't work out so well, but so what? The entire city has a no-smoking policy, and that's why it was attempted.

Also, how can a true Yankee fan work for the Mets? I would never be employed by the Yankees. You should be scalped.

4) If you think a Yankee fan is annoying, you should really see how Met fans operate when Yankees win in games that have NOTHING TO DO WITH THEIR OUTCOME. If you walk out of Yankee stadium during a Yankee loss, people may cry “we were robbed” but you won’t hear us screaming “Mets still suck” because in the long run, the Mets or Yankees have no bearing in the outcome of their seasons, The only time this rivalry should ever reach this level is when the Subway Series makes its way round. EVERYTIME I walk out of Citifield or Shea there is always some Met IDIOT fan screaming “Yankees suck”… I’m sorry did I miss something? This is not like the Rangers and Islanders playing in the same league and directly affecting each other , and you certainly do NOT hear Giants or Jets fans screaming Giants suck or Jets suck… and I have COUNTLESS MET FAN FRIENDS that watch EVERY Yankee game with the opportunity to write “Let’s GO Boston, or F–K THE YANKEES” on their facebook page, their away msg, their bbm status, their Myspace page, or Twitter it for the next 3 days….” HELLO?!?!?! As a Yankee and baseball fan in general, I find it quite humorous that SO MUCH ATTENTION is put into the Yankees if they are truly an overrated team. Let’s not forget, that overrated team also put a halt to your Championship dreams in 2000.

First of all, "championship dreams?" Let's not overreact. And I didn't forget- that's part of the reason we don't like each other. Ass.

One of the greatest things about professional sports is the rivalry that's built up between teams. It's part of marketing. Let me explain it to you:

MARKETING (n): The activities of a company associated with buying and selling a product or service. It includes advertising, selling and delivering products to people. (dictionary.com)

Building up sports rivalries is one of the best part of sports marketing, at least for me. When I go to hockey games with my brother, we get in huge arguments about the Rangers and the Devils. I love going over to my dad's in a Jets sweatshirt because I know he'll be wearing a Giants hat, even though technically there's no beef between the two of them because they're in different conferences. Rivalries are a way to put asses in seats. The Mets and the Yankees play in the same city, and therefore have a clash. Also, you obviously forgot about interleague- we do play each other, twice a year.

BTW… if you think there are a lot of girls wearing midriffs and tube tops rooting for the Yankees, you should see how many of those exact same female Met fans exist screaming “Yankees suck” because their creatine-filled boyfriends are dong the same…. and how many of them are wearing heels and dress. I know because I went to the opener yesterday, and there is quite a few…

With your last two comments on so-called Mets fans, you have just described every Yankee fan I have ever met in my life. I have never seen any girl like that at any Met game. Everyone I know who roots for the Yankees has an obnoxious sense of entitlement- they think it's their job to win every year. They get in your face and go into annoying detail, just like you, about why every other team in baseball doesn't matter, or worse, is trying to copy them. No one is trying to copy you- they're forming strategies and making the best possible moves that will get them to the World Series. Stop spouting off shit that you read in Sports Illustrated (which is an incredibly biased publication, anyway) and form your own opinions.

Just to let you know, by the way- the handle "girlygirl" isn't helping your case. It's like Charles Manson going by the name "Totally Stabby!!!" and then trying for an appeal.

The link to the original post is here.

IPAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF THIS CRAP

I'm one of those people that live on my laptop. I work and take online classes, so without my computer I would probably throw myself into a burning lava pit. I got my first laptop as a gift from my dad, when I graduated from high school and entered college. I asked him for anything but a Dell, and guess what I got? Yup. It was a piece of shit, just as I expected.

I used my POS Dell until I couldn't take it anymore. I finally found the perfect excuse to get rid of it- I work in media and I had to switch to a Mac. I gave my Dell to a friend ("PLEASE, take this away from me!") and got a brand-new, shiny MacBook Pro.

My brother has a Toshiba and he loves it- it never breaks, never gets any serious viruses, holds a whole bunch of crap, etc. He swears by the PC and says he'll never get a Mac. There's a constant turf war between the two of us- it's like the Bloods and the Crips lite; only now that we're no longer in the same house I don't worry about him stabbing me in my sleep.

I've been obsessed with my Mac for over a year- there was a perfect marriage between that and my iPod, which was permanently attached to me already. If I didn't have Verizon, I would have been seduced by the iPhone, too. I am a total Apple whore, and I don't even want to join the 12-step. If only I can kidnap an Apple Genius guy and force him to perform for me sexually, the cycle will be complete.

Then, just like with any whore, things began to get messy. I never got the Protection Plan, because I'd already spent so much money on the laptop, and everyone told me that the Mac computers never get any viruses (always use protection, kids!). My iPod started fucking up hardcore- deleting songs, stopping the shuffle randomly, etc. My MacBook started doing some wonky shit that I couldn't even describe. My world, as I knew it, slowly began to unravel.

Why must you torture me?

This wouldn't do. I call Apple and am informed that each phone call cost $50. I feel dirty; like I had just had the worst phone sex of my life. I ask if they could make me an appointment at the nearest Apple store- if I'm going to be sodomized, at least let them do it in person. I am then told that I can only make an appointment online. Fine; I can do this myself. I am a strong, capable woman and you will not see me cry, dammit!

I log onto the website using what's left of my beloved MacBook. When asked what product I need help with, I search frantically for the option that says, "my life;" but it is not to be- I finally settle on "Mac." I figure I'll slip the iPod in while I was there.

I get to the store and talk to the Genius guy. He seems pretty damn perky- I wonder if he's ever been dumped by the love of his life, like I had just been. I tell him I'm here for both products, and we get to the iPod first. I tell him what's going on and he lets me know that the iPod only takes iTunes files- which COST MONEY- or music from regular CD's, not burned ones. Also, the number of songs listed really refer to "gigabytes"- so when you reach a certain number of those, songs will disappear. "It's on the website, but you have to look for it," he says. So, my 2,000 song Nano really holds, like, 12 files. I wind up buying a new iPod- a Classic, for 249 bucks.

Ah. Well played, Apple. You are a worthy adversary.

Now that Apple has even more of my money, it's on to my beloved MacBook. He unfastens it like a surgeon carefully opening a body and discovers that it's completely unusable. He tells me that the trackpad is broken and, since my warranty has run out, to fix it will cost $300. Normally the only 300 I'm willing to spend is two hours with Gerard Butler, but this is my life we're talking about. I grab the piece of paper he hands me and sign in blood, and reluctantly agree to wait for his call.

But we were so good together!

The next day I return to the Menacing Lair of Inequity to pick up what promises to be my brand-spanking new laptop (emphasis on the spanking). When I grit my teeth and take out my wallet, the Girl Behind the Counter tells me it's not 300 dollars- it's $400. Of course it is. I bend over, hand them my ass, and leave with my laptop, who smirks at me the whole way home. When I call to complain about the quote that I received and the lame trackpad that broke after a year and a half (come on! Seriously?!), the Apple corporate office offers me a gift certificate for 30% off my next purchase. I'm still waiting for it.

Fuck you, Apple. Fuck your stupid almost monopoly. Fuck your awesome commercials. Fuck your arresting power of modern technology and the intoxicating presence that it brings. And fuck you for knowing beyond a doubt that I will keep buying your products, and that you have me by the proverbial balls. I hate you, you're abusive, and I will keep coming back.

I BET YOU THINK YOU'RE SPECIAL

In a shameless attempt to get more people to pay attention to me, I’m taking on guest bloggers. So if you’re under the misguided notion that you’re funny, or cool, send an email with your post to thataintkosher83@gmail.com or drop me a comment and I’ll more than likely throw it up here. There’s no pretentious application process or anything- the truth is, I’m just lazy, not picky and willing to delegate my responsibilities to someone else. There’s no pay, no reward and no recognition. Happy Blogging!

SOCIAL DISTORTION

A few days ago I realized that in my first post, back in December, I mentioned this friend that I used to have that totally screwed me over, and then I promised to explain later. So, that never happened. Whoops. Sorry about that. In case any of you actually care, here's my "explain later," for two reasons: one, because I don't want to look like a liar, and two, because I'm past due for another blog post, and I have nothing specific to write about. So here it is.

I met this girl (we'll call her "L," for the sake of protecting my own privacy) in college, and we were instant friends. We became really close really fast, and we bonded over the fact that our professor looked exactly like Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. I'll chalk up our eventual implosion to the fact that we grew tight pretty quickly, and we really didn't know each other as well as we thought, and therefore I didn't realize that she was a raging sociopath.

I'm not saying that L didn't have some good qualities- I stayed with her for a few weeks while I looked for a new apartment; she drove me to the hospital when I got sick one time; we had our favorite restaurants, favorite movies, favorite TV shows (Top Chef night was a staple with us). Our families were like second families- we got invited on all each others' family vacations. She had spare keys to my apartment. It was like we were a married couple, without the terrible sex or the long-settling resentment.

After a couple of years, things started to turn towards the negative. L would chastize me for bringing up comic book references even though she greeted people with a fist bump (um, hi? WONDER TWINS?) and spent hours a day playing video games by herself. If I didn't like or dislike the same things she did she would give me shit about it and try to wear me down. She "banned" me from watching SVU marathons, Family Guy and ESPN Classic, and informed me that talking about this stuff is why I was single. Excuse me, but the last time I checked, every guy I know loves sports and Family Guy. When Halloween came around, she told me I couldn't spend it with her and the rest of the group because I wouldn't dress up as someone from Mario Party. That was fine with me, because I had a date, anyway. Explain that, resident guy expert. Also, have fun at your Nintendo convention. Loser.

I knew we were on our last legs when she started separating me from some of her other friends because they "didn't want to meet me." And, as if that weren't bad enough, she actually informed me that she'd told some of them that I was "slow." I mean, I know I didn't discover a new Theory of Relativity or anything like that, but I'd like to think that I'm right up there in terms of intellectual thinking. I didn't even know where the fuck that came from. Anyway, you'd think with the constant "reminders" L gave me that I had a minimal social circle (unlike her, of course- she took her phone to the bathroom with her in case she missed a text), she'd want to introduce me to as many people as possible.

To my relief, the end came pretty rapidly. Even though she had a boyfriend that was a total tool that followed her everywhere and missed all the signs that she was fucking, like six other people- without protection, of course, because I was the dumb one- she still accepted a date with a guy that she worked with. We were hanging out at my apartment one day when she told me about said excursion- a trip to see the local minor league hockey team. I said that it sounded like fun, and for the rest of the day, she kept dropping hints that she wanted me to go, so it "wouldn't be a date." She even thought that I might like him, so I agreed to go.

I swear she set this up to be an epic failure. The guy, who we'll call "R," calls her to let her know he was on his way, and L lies to him that I had invited myself. Great, now he hates me for horning in on his date. It didn't matter though- as soon as he picked us up I realized that the dude totally looks like Beavis, from the MTV cartoon. If they ever do a live action movie, I'm serious- no audition needed.

Anyway, we both get into the car and I sit in the back- not exactly a prime conversation spot. The music gets turned way up and they immediately start talking about people from work. The game goes kind of OK, and I kind of get pulled into the conversation a little bit, and then I get up to get food. I come back, and L tells me that he thinks I'm hot, and that she told him I'm single- which, is weird, considering they'd been making out all night. They then proceed to ignore me, and I get to spend the next few hours watching them eat each other's faces. Considering I never told her I'm not interested, I'm pretty pissed off. I wouldn't ever date this guy- it's the principle. Technically, she's a whore.

The next day, R sends me an IM- I assume that he got my screen name from L. He tells me that he does like me, and he's sorry for hooking up with my friend, and that he knows she has a boyfriend, blah blah blah and shit. Please- I was there. She started it, but it's not like you begged her to stop. He goes on to say that he knows I'm a Jets fan, and invites me to his house tomorrow for Monday Night Football. Then, weirdly, he tells me the plan is to watch the game, and then go to L's house. Even though I find this really odd, stupidly, I say yes.

The next morning, L texts me to congratulate me on my date. This whole thing is way too Three's Company for me- I realize this is retarded, and when R calls me to tell me he's on his way, I let him know that I'm no one's second choice, and cancel. Twenty minutes later, L sends me another text (she's allergic to phone calls), yelling at me for canceling. She tries to force me to go on the date, telling me it will "be good for me." I say no, and the conversation ends. The next day, I realize that L has blocked me from Facebook, and we haven't spoken since.

So, that was it. The end of a really fucked-up era. I've asked for my keys back multiple times, only to be ignored. Whatever, it's not like she'll come here or anything. Unfortunately, I can't get rid of this guy, who's a psycho too, BTW. He's obsessed with guns and shooting people and planning "dates" for us that will never happen. He used to constantly declare his love for me over IM's (I'm dead serious), so I blocked him online, but he still tries to get me on Facebook chat even though I always ignore him. You'd think after a month or two he would get the hint. He used to text me, but he hasn't in a while. I keep forgetting to delete him from my friends list, but now that I wrote this blog, maybe I'll finally get around to it.

Anyway, sorry to get so serious (and so long- thanks for sticking around). Next time I promise I'll be funny again.

REALITY TV, IF I RAN THE NETWORKS (BE AFRAID)

Being stuck in LA for the last month has really sent my Bullshit Meter through the roof. I realize that it's only in the 60's here, but it's pretty obvious that the real reason people aren't going outside during the day is because they're afraid their plastic bodies will melt in the sun. The Oscars were this past weekend and I couldn't have one conversation without some nominees' name being dropped (in nickname form, no less). On Monday, I went to a Kings game with my friend and we were the only girls not wearing fake eyelashes, tank tops and six inch stiletto heels. Um, do these whores realize that the game is played on an ice rink? That's cold? My brain needs something that doesn't fit into the "fake" category STAT.

Lately it seems like I'm not even safe when I watch television. Every three seconds there's a new "reality" show that pops up and invades my otherwise pleasant existence. Remember when it came out that the The Hills was scripted and everybody freaked out like someone had just found Moses in an Ed Hardy outlet store in New Jersey? Please. Like any show on TV can accurately qualify as "reality." If I ran the networks, I would make sure that reality shows were actually real. Here's how I would make over the worst offenders:

AMERICAN IDOL: I have the greatest idea ever for this show. While the contestants sing, suspend them over a shark tank. With every negative comment from the judges (especially that asshole Simon Cowell), the rope gets lower and lower. Then, at the end of the night, the contestant that gets voted off gets dropped into the tank and eaten. The crunching sounds, of course, would be magnified by the microphone.

I would totally watch that.

SURVIVOR: There are no actual "survivors" on this show. Does anyone really believe that the producers would let any of their cash cows die of starvation or get seriously injured? Hell, no. I say let these people really "survive"- throw them into a different locale every year. Start off with Harlem, and switch it up. South Detroit, South Central LA, anywhere where you can get shot just for making eye contact. Then tuck the cameramen away in a nice, secluded apartment with a doughnut and coffee spread and let the fun begin.

DANCING WITH THE STARS: On my show, "dancing" means "shoot at their feet so they have to move around a lot to live." Also, the general public would get to pick who would be on the show, and they would fire the guns themselves. Note: I have shitty aim.

THE APPRENTICE: Donald Trump would work for me. I'm a fan of hard labor.

THE REAL HOUSEWIVES: I really don't give a shit about these overprivileged, underworked, egotistical bitches from Orange County and the Upper East Side. Show me the "Real" Housewives of Bumfuck, Idaho that sit around all day watching Maury, eating bonbons and growing their asses out of their trailers. The hour would fly by.

TOOL ACADEMY: The girls on this show would get to beat their boyfriends with actual tools (hence the clever title). The "winner" gets hacked with a chainsaw.

I'M A CELEBRITY, GET ME OUT OF HERE: The contestants are all from my list of Most Annoying Celebrities, and the island is the island from Lost, which no one can find. That way just when they think they get to leave, SURPRISE!- the island won't let them, and they all stay there forever, until everyone is killed by the Smoke Monster for being obnoxious.

THE REAL WORLD: Take seven strangers that have just graduated from college and follow them around with cameras as they try to live in a shitty apartment in a poorly lit area, apply for jobs, struggle with car payments and eventually have to move back in with their parents. So, basically, record the lives of everyone else on the planet that isn't being sheltered by MTV.

Just don't change Jersey Shore. I have a feeling the kids on that show really are that dumb.

LOBOTOMIZE THIS

First of all, I need to apologize for my ridiculously long absence. I've been in Los Angeles for the past couple of weeks, visiting friends and helping my dad switch apartments. I'll return to the real world shortly.

Being in Los Angeles has been a real trip. My dad lives here, so at least I have a free place to stay with HD and I'm not paying for food or anything. But other than that, LA is a fucking nightmare. I'm a huge Lost fan, so I kept praying for the ending to the pilot episode, but I still touched down at LAX. Six hours after I landed, I already wanted to go home.

I actually lived here for work for a few months a while ago, and it was during that time that I realized that the difference between New York City and LA is monumental. It's not just the weather, or the time change- it's the way people dress, think, speak, act. I walk everywhere, and people here think that's weird. Sixty degrees for me is t-shirt weather, and people in LA think that requires a parka and boots. At least three times a week I've gotten a comment on my Brooklyn accent, which I know is present, but actually isn't as pronounced as people here think.

THIS is how it's done.

Actually, all of that is pretty amusing. It's the people I've met that make me want to puke. Aside from the few friends that I have here, the name-dropping and celebrity-whoring is so rampant that I constantly have the urge to throw up. Guys are always coming up to me in their stupid sunglasses and telling me they can make me famous. I'm sick of hearing who these clowns know and what they do. Take note, Asshole: just because you filmed your little brother riding his tricycle through your backyard twenty years ago does not make you a producer. The fact that I've managed not to laugh in any of these idiots' faces makes me much more of an actor than any of them.

The girls are pretty horrible, too. I've managed to befriend the three of them with real jobs- probably because they're not from LA- but most of them are total morons that moved here to win an Oscar, and when that failed, they just wound up doing Oscar for ten dollars an hour.

The entire time that I lived here, I was completely miserable. My job was a dead-end that I knew would lead nowhere, and I have absolutely no interest in the bullshit parties and club scenes that I was being thrown into. My family and friends were 3,000 miles away, my jet lag was always up my ass, and the people I met only talked about themselves, celebrities, or themselves and celebrities. I was over it in about three days, but miraculously, I lasted another few months without totally losing my shit. My boss, who luckily knew that he couldn't provide me with any suitable work, told me I could do freelance projects back East and let me go home. I was packed in two hours.

The first thing my friends did to welcome me back to this planet was take me out for New York City pizza. Being a native New Yorker, I have incredibly high standards for pizza. All pies must meet a certain criteria:

A) Thin crust (none of this deep-dish bullshit- what the hell is that? Eat me, Chicago.)

B) A little heavy on the cheese, but not so much so that it constitutes the title of "extra cheese"

c) Extra drippy with the oil- you must look like The Joker after you eat it

No toppings, either. Pizza must always be eaten plain. Pepperoni is OK, because that's a classic, and so is extra sauce or cheese, because those are used as ingredients. But that's it.

Also, none of this pussy-ass dabbing the oil off the pizza, especially if you're a guy. You may hold the slice at an angle, so the oil drips off, but any guy that wipes the oil off must immediately be beaten, or forced to wear a dress.

Also, the sign of a real pizza place is one that only has pizza and heroes- no pasta. I love pasta, but if you want ziti, go to an Italian restaurant. If you want pizza, go to a pizza place. Don't do both in one setting. It's not kosher.

The greatest pizza (possibly the greatest food) you will ever experience in your life is the original Ray's Pizza on West 11th and 6th in Greenwich Village. Anyone who eats it will denounce all other pizzas. Trust me. (The other Rays, while also magically delicious, are just cheap imitations.)

What Los Angeles is sorely lacking is a good pizza joint. All of their pizza is treated as a fucking gourmet meal. There's always like, nine toppings on it, and they're always fucking weird and scary, like goat cheese or mangos or some shit. This is wrong, and should not be tolerated.

Who came up with this bullshit? They should be shawshanked.

So, now I've got an intense craving for New York City, and I've still got a couple of weeks left here. Honestly, I'd rather be on Shutter Island, so if anyone wants to send a ferry to bring me back home, please do so. Email me and I'll send you the address here.

THIS WON'T GET YOU LAID

Now that Valentine's Day is over, I'd like to congratulate everyone for living through it without blowing through everything in their wallet. I spent my day watching the winter Olympics and eating Chinese. My mom got me a card and a few of my friends sent me V-Day texts (one of my more hysterical friends sent me a "Happy VD!" Awesome). It actually wasn't so bad.

You know that friend I mentioned that subscribes to all those wedding magazines like they're the fucking DaVinci code of monthly publications or something? In honor of the holiday, she sent out one of those "Perfect Guy" bullshit chain letters, and I could not believe the shit that she put on there. No guy in his right mind would ever do any of this crap, and if he would, he's your gay friend (or really, REALLY desperate). So I decided to copy her list here and add my own commentary, because everyone thinks I am hilarious.

PS- When it comes to this girl, I use the word "friend" loosely.

1) TRY TO SECRETLY SMELL YOUR HAIR, BUT YOU ALWAYS NOTICE

Why the fuck would a guy want to sniff my hair? Please- I know what you're really after. You're only trying to get close to me so you can stick your hands in my underwear.

2) GIVE YOU THE REMOTE CONTROL DURING THE GAME

First of all, this assumes that girls don't like sports. I love watching "The Game." Second of all, no girl on her medication is dumb enough to change the channel when her boyfriend's favorite team is winning. And if she does, he SHOULD give her the remote- by burying her with it.

3) COME UP BEHIND YOU AND PUT HIS ARMS AROUND YOU

This would scare me. When you enter a room, announce your presence- loudly, so I don't think you're a serial killer and knee you in the nuts.

4) PLAY WITH YOUR HAIR

Again with the hair? OK, how's this for a trade-off- you touch my hair, I fling a ponytail holder into your eye.

FYI- if you've been reading my blog, you know how much I hate when guys play with my hair.

5) HIS HAND ALWAYS FINDS YOURS

Hand-holding is for seventh graders. I'm always down for a good drunken lap dance instead.

6) SLOW-DANCE WITH YOU

Oh, please. Any girl that forces a guy to slow-dance should have her face caught in a bear trap. "Nobody puts Baby in a corner"...with a firing squad.

7) REACT SO CUTELY WHEN YOU HIT HIM AND IT ACTUALLY HURTS

How come when a girl hits a guy, he should "react cutely," but when a guy hits a girl, she should call the cops and move in with her sister? Talk about a double standard. Violence is never the answer, unless you're watching Shoot 'Em Up (YES to Clive Owen).

8) DRIVE 5 HOURS JUST TO SEE YOU FOR 1

Now that's just stupid.

9) BE CUTE WHEN HE REALLY WANTS SOMETHING

See, this is where the late, great art of "communication" comes in (thanks again, Facebook!). If I want something...well, I pretty much just take it. But everyone else should just ask. This is how fights are avoided. No one can read minds, especially not those retards on the Psychic Network.

10) STARE AT YOU

What the fuck? How creepy is that? Psychiatrists have a word for that: SOCIOPATH. And while I have dated some scary losers, none of them have belonged in the mental ward- at least not officially.

So there you go. If you're a guy, you're probably rocking back and forth and shuddering uncontrollably. And if you're a girl, you're probably just thinking about how warped this chick's brain is. BTW, you can probably see this list on other sites because she sent it to like 100 other people. I'm serious.

Sometimes I'm really glad I'm single.

CELEBRATE WITH BOURBON

Assuming you were one of the 70 bajillion people who watched the Superbowl last night, who were you rooting for- the Colts or the Saints?

HA! Both were wrong. The correct answer is the JETS. It is always the JETS.

A couple of months ago I had dinner with a bunch of my girlfriends. This was right in the middle of the football season, and it didn't look good for me, as I'm a long-suffering, die-hard Jets fan. Sitting with me at the table was also a Colts fan, a Bengals fan and my friend Tammy, who's from New Orleans. We got into a long discussion about her team, "the 'Aints," and how they make the entire state of Louisiana cry. They were doing well this year, but she was trying not to be too optimistic, given their track record.

Flash-forward two months, and the Jets have beaten the Bengals, the Colts have beaten the Jets to win the AFC (and I have thrown shit against my wall) and the Saints have beaten the Colts to become the new Superbowl champs. Holy shit, no one saw that coming. Congratulations, Tammy. I owe you a beer...or six.




I look forward to Superbowl Sunday every year- I consider it a national holiday. Even when I don't necessarily care which team wins, I always find someone to root for. This year, the Saints destroyed the Vikings, and I hate Brett Favre, whose old-man ass ruined the Jets last year; and the Colts knocked out the Jets for the AFC Championship, so I was totally going for the Saints. Plus I knew it would be a great game- both teams are pretty evenly matched in both offense, defense and coaching, and I was pretty sure it wouldn't be a very high-scoring game. I was actually predicting somewhere around 24-21.

The game itself was, in fact, pretty amazing. The Saints came back from a 10-point deficit in the first quarter to win with two touchdowns in the second half. The most mind-blowing moment came in the very first second of the third quarter with that oneside kick made by the Saints that gave them change of possession and their first lead of the game. It was definitely a "WTF?" moment. I'd been watching ESPN coverage all morning and NO ONE predicted that the Saints would win the Superbowl- that one play changed everything. The Saints seemed to be such sentimental favorites that I wondered if the Colts would actually get booed if they won.

What was really surprising was that, unless I missed it, the camera never once panned to Kendra Wilkinson, who's married to the Colts' Hank Baskett, or Kim Kardashian, whose boyfriend is Reggie Bush of the Saints. That was disappointing- my friends and I had a whole drinking game planned for that! The battle between Kendra's ginormous fake boobs and Kim's epic ass could have been the real Halftime Show- hell, that could be the SyFy Channel's next movie. I'd watch that.

Speaking of the Halftime Show, The Who is always great- I've loved them since my parents took me to see Tommy when I was a little kid- but here's my beef: Did they really have to play the songs that just so happen to be the three theme songs from all the CSI's? I understand that this is CBS, and that those are coincidentally three of their most popular songs, and I really shouldn't complain, because Baba O'Reilly just happens to be my favorite Who tune. But no one tells The Who what to play. If Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey want to come onstage in a dress and heels surrounded by a litter of puppies, you say "OK" and shut the fuck up. Other than that, though, they sounded awesome.

And BTW, what the fuck was up with the commercials this year? I've always had a soft spot for the Superbowl ads because they're responsible for my love affair with football. In my second year of college, I took an advertising class where my professor gave us an assignment to watch the Big Game and write a paper on which ads were the best and the worst. My intention was to TiVo (ha! remember that?) the actual game and watch the commercials, but I actually found myself drawn in by the action. It was the Patriots vs. the Panthers, and my dad hates the Patriots, so he got really into it, and so did I. Later I remember it being referred to as "the greatest Superbowl of all time." Now, as a Jets fan, I still hate the Patriots, and rooting against them is a great bonding experience for my dad and I (even though he's a Giants fan- sucks to be you, Dad!).

Anyway, the commercials really sucked ass this year. I'm not big into this feminist bullshit, but there were a lot of really misogynistic ads. I have a ton of girlfriends that watch football and enjoy it just as much as my guy friends do. That one commercial where the guy was forced to go underwear shopping with his girlfriend really pissed me off. Another shitty one was the Coke ad about Mr. Burns. Come on- a Simpsons cartoon with no voices? What a waste.

The movie trailers were disappointing, too- Alice In Wonderland looks boring as shit. Tim Burton needs to stop.

There were some ads that I liked, though- the Denny's one with the screaming chickens running around, especially the silent one in space? I don't know why, but I thought that was fucking hilarious. Maybe someone slipped something into my drink. Another good one was the one for Dodge, with the guy making all the promises- especially the one about watching the "vampire shows." That part was great- vampire shows are horrible.

I liked the ad for Google because it seemed to cater to the women that watch football, too- there are some of us, you know. The commercial had no actors, just the Google icon showing a male exchange student's journey through Paris as he meets a girl, asks her out, marries her and has a baby (spelling stuff wrong), using the Google search engine. It was sweet, and seemed almost out of place for a Superbowl ad.

However, everyone will probably agree with me that the best (and most hysterical) commercial was the Snickers ad with Abe Vigoda and Betty White. The concept was a little ridiculous- you'll play football like an old lady if you don't eat Snickers- but she made it awesome. The best part was when one of the players says, "you're playing like Betty White!" and she says, "that's not what your girlfriend said!" I love Betty White- everything she does is great. She even made The Proposal watchable because she has no shame. You can see the ad here.



So that's my (abbreviated) Superbowl recap. Check back in next February when it's the Jets against someone in the NFC.

PS- in case you were wondering, I also DVR'd the Puppybowl.