The DVR is the best invention of the past 10 years. I'm convinced. It changed my life. It makes decisions easy. Now, if someone calls me up at 4 p.m. and wants to get a drink after work I can easily say yes. I don't have to make an excuse as to why I can't, like, "I'm swamped at work," when in the past the real answer would be, "I really don't want to miss 'Temptation Island' on TV." And thank god for that.
The Bumper Bully is the worst invention of the last 10 years. I don't know what it is but lately I've been noticing an abundance of Bumper Bullies around. If you don't know what I'm talking about it's that ugly, black flap of rubber that hangs from people's trunks on the back of their cars.
First of all, what is it protecting? Your crappy-ass plastic bumper? Big wup. I live in New York City, where most people can't pull into or out of spots without using the 'touch' method. Little dings are a right of passage! But ok, you have a nice new Lexus and you park it on the street and you want to make sure you keep it clean. I get that. But why do you insist on driving around with the damn thing hanging off the back of your car? Can't you just put it back inside the trunk, where it rightfully belongs? It makes a nice car look ugly. And if it's on an ugly car then why are you bothering anyway? Your 1997 Corolla does not need a damn Bumper Bully!
Secondly, did anyone stop and think, Hey, what about the front of my car? How come some idiot only thought about inventing an ugly black flap for the back of a car? Is the front not at least equally important to protect? Trust me, Mrs. Shu can just as easily back her Honda Odyssey into the front of your car and ding your grill up. Personally, a dented grill would piss me off more than a scrape on my back bumper.
It's just a stupid, ugly contraption. I honestly don't get it.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Monday, January 4, 2010
Sherlock away from Holmes
Anyone go to the movies on Jewish Christmas? Anyone see Sherlock Holmes? That’s good, hope you enjoyed …
Our Christmas started off with such promise. The plan was to drive out to Long Island, get some food somewhere and go movie hop. We had the schedules all mapped out for optimal hopping performance. So we get going around noon and wind up in Westbury. We know most things are closed on Christmas Day, but hey, this is Long Island! There’s always a diner open, right? Hmm. Well, I kid you not when I tell you we spent an hour in the car trying to find someplace open to eat. The one diner that was open was so packed we would have waited over an hour to sit down. Not happening. So we hop back in the car and drive around some more and we honestly settle on the only thing we can find open: Burger King. (This made me surprisingly happy because I’d been craving a Whopper for the longest! We didn’t want the standard Chinese because we just had it the day before.) So we eat our burgers and head off to the theater.
Huge mistake. I have never in my life seen a movie theater so crowded. The parking lot was like downtown Tokyo, which should have told me all I needed to know about the inside. The lines to buy tickets at the teller were out the door on both sides; the lines to get into your movie once you already had your ticket snaked around the entire enormous lobby; even the Fandango kiosk was probably 50 people deep. It was insane.
And then, of course, everything started to sell out. I mean everything! We wound up getting on line, hoping for the best once we got up there, but gave up after 10 minutes when we realized it wasn’t going to happen. Eventually we left and decided to take our chances back home in Queens. So, in case you were wondering, we drove all the way out to Long Island on Christmas Day to eat Burger King and drive home. Good times.
So we headed off to a nice, big Regal theater in Queens thinking we’d have a much better shot. After all, if you’re gonna aim for an empty theater on Christmas Day, might as well be where there is an abundance of Christians. Yea, in retrospect it really wasn’t such a good idea to spend Jewish Christmas in the Jewish Mecca that is Long Island. So we were in luck! The Regal theater was, relatively speaking, pretty empty. Only problem was, there was nothing playing remotely around when we arrived at the theater. We would have had to wait there God knows how long, and the theater is in an outdoor mall—and it was freezing—so we left again and decided to just aim for the theater right down the block from our apartment.
We wanted to see Sherlock Holmes at 5 p.m. We got to the theater and guess what? Yup, sold out. Fuck! But the 7:10 p.m. show was still available so we decided to see that. Finally. But now we had two hours to kill, and my wife didn't want to go home and come back, so we just walked around our neighborhood in the cold with nearly no stores to walk into, but we managed to finally kill the time. And then we saw Sherlock Holmes and everything was wonderful. So, for all you kids counting at home: We left the house at noon and wound up taking about 7 hours to see one damn movie!
At least my wife got to see the film. I missed the last 10 minutes. Nature called unexpectedly. Actually, Nature was knocking down my door with a battle ax … and to all the men out there, you know what that means.
So I had to excuse myself, miss the climax of the movie and head to the restroom. I was not thrilled about that prospect. Think about it, how do you feel about public restrooms? If you’re anything like me it is an option only for extreme emergencies.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
John Mayer once said (and I’m paraphrasing here), “Comfort is being able to take a dump in public like you would in the privacy of your own home.” That’s damn astute of him. And damn hard to pull off.
So I get to the bathroom and there are three stalls. The middle was already occupied, but otherwise the bathroom was completely empty. That was a good sign for some comfort. So I can either choose between the handicapped stall on the left or the normal one on the right. Which one would you choose? The handicapped, right? You want the extra room? It’s a nice thought and all, but should I pick the toilet filled with piss and shit, or the one filled with shit and piss? What a decision. It’s like choosing between the hot girl who you’ll have to buy 17 drinks for to wind up kissing or the butter face who will come home with you for a slice of bad pizza. When you’re horny. But I digress …
So I chose the smaller stall that was relatively shit-free but covered in piss. Now, bare in mind the severity of the situation here. Time is of the essence. But I spent as much—as little?—time as possible cleaning off the seat with some toilet paper and got down to business. Ahhhhhhhhh! That poor bastard sitting in the stall next to me! I think I shit out a large, decomposing raccoon. And besides, even though the whole situation was gross, I figured the movie would be over by the time I got out so I could just go home and shower right away. So this wasn’t as comfy an experience as being on your home field, but at least that thought was comforting.
But gentlemen, there are some things to be gleaned from this situation. Did you ever wonder why the hell women take so damn long in a public bathroom? Or why there’s always a line outside their bathroom? Well, I now know why. Listen closely, fellahs. It’s not that they wear a lot of layers, or that they are chatting with their girlfriends, or even that they’re spending time looking in the mirror touching up their hair and faces …
It’s the toilet paper. Public restrooms have terrible toilet paper. It’s absolute shit. It’s shit-covered shit. And it’s not even that it’s as thin as Brittany Murphy (Too soon? Oooh!), it’s that it’s as wide as a baseball card. I mean, what the fuck is that? Seriously, it covers about three fingers’ worth of your hand. This is why women spend so damn long in the bathroom, men. This is the answer right here: It’s because they have to spend 10 minutes wrapping that paper, and crumpling it and folding it and contorting it in such a way, that it covers their entire hand. And you know what? I don’t blame them. Not at all. Not in the least.
And you know what else? Why the hell is that industrial-sized toilet paper dispenser always like 6 inches off the ground? Who can reach that thing? Then you have to walk that tightrope where you reach your hand in gingerly and try and pull the paper down as gently as you can so that you can get an ample amount but make sure it does not touch the floor. Is there anything grosser than that? Seriously, you pull at the paper and it takes you a good minute or two just to get the rhythm going where you can pull a little and clump it in your hand without it touching the floor. The first five pulls you inevitably rip off one damn square, so you have to keep trying until you get your pace. Then you finally get enough paper in your hand that you can bring it up to waist level and reapportion it for general wiping use.
It’s a long and winding road, gentlemen. It’s a painstaking process. So next time those ladies are taking fucking forever in a public restroom, cut them some slack. They've got one heckuva situation to deal with, one we only come across in the worst of times.
We may be able to pee standing up. But heck, they can hover!
Our Christmas started off with such promise. The plan was to drive out to Long Island, get some food somewhere and go movie hop. We had the schedules all mapped out for optimal hopping performance. So we get going around noon and wind up in Westbury. We know most things are closed on Christmas Day, but hey, this is Long Island! There’s always a diner open, right? Hmm. Well, I kid you not when I tell you we spent an hour in the car trying to find someplace open to eat. The one diner that was open was so packed we would have waited over an hour to sit down. Not happening. So we hop back in the car and drive around some more and we honestly settle on the only thing we can find open: Burger King. (This made me surprisingly happy because I’d been craving a Whopper for the longest! We didn’t want the standard Chinese because we just had it the day before.) So we eat our burgers and head off to the theater.
Huge mistake. I have never in my life seen a movie theater so crowded. The parking lot was like downtown Tokyo, which should have told me all I needed to know about the inside. The lines to buy tickets at the teller were out the door on both sides; the lines to get into your movie once you already had your ticket snaked around the entire enormous lobby; even the Fandango kiosk was probably 50 people deep. It was insane.
And then, of course, everything started to sell out. I mean everything! We wound up getting on line, hoping for the best once we got up there, but gave up after 10 minutes when we realized it wasn’t going to happen. Eventually we left and decided to take our chances back home in Queens. So, in case you were wondering, we drove all the way out to Long Island on Christmas Day to eat Burger King and drive home. Good times.
So we headed off to a nice, big Regal theater in Queens thinking we’d have a much better shot. After all, if you’re gonna aim for an empty theater on Christmas Day, might as well be where there is an abundance of Christians. Yea, in retrospect it really wasn’t such a good idea to spend Jewish Christmas in the Jewish Mecca that is Long Island. So we were in luck! The Regal theater was, relatively speaking, pretty empty. Only problem was, there was nothing playing remotely around when we arrived at the theater. We would have had to wait there God knows how long, and the theater is in an outdoor mall—and it was freezing—so we left again and decided to just aim for the theater right down the block from our apartment.
We wanted to see Sherlock Holmes at 5 p.m. We got to the theater and guess what? Yup, sold out. Fuck! But the 7:10 p.m. show was still available so we decided to see that. Finally. But now we had two hours to kill, and my wife didn't want to go home and come back, so we just walked around our neighborhood in the cold with nearly no stores to walk into, but we managed to finally kill the time. And then we saw Sherlock Holmes and everything was wonderful. So, for all you kids counting at home: We left the house at noon and wound up taking about 7 hours to see one damn movie!At least my wife got to see the film. I missed the last 10 minutes. Nature called unexpectedly. Actually, Nature was knocking down my door with a battle ax … and to all the men out there, you know what that means.
So I had to excuse myself, miss the climax of the movie and head to the restroom. I was not thrilled about that prospect. Think about it, how do you feel about public restrooms? If you’re anything like me it is an option only for extreme emergencies.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
John Mayer once said (and I’m paraphrasing here), “Comfort is being able to take a dump in public like you would in the privacy of your own home.” That’s damn astute of him. And damn hard to pull off.
So I get to the bathroom and there are three stalls. The middle was already occupied, but otherwise the bathroom was completely empty. That was a good sign for some comfort. So I can either choose between the handicapped stall on the left or the normal one on the right. Which one would you choose? The handicapped, right? You want the extra room? It’s a nice thought and all, but should I pick the toilet filled with piss and shit, or the one filled with shit and piss? What a decision. It’s like choosing between the hot girl who you’ll have to buy 17 drinks for to wind up kissing or the butter face who will come home with you for a slice of bad pizza. When you’re horny. But I digress …So I chose the smaller stall that was relatively shit-free but covered in piss. Now, bare in mind the severity of the situation here. Time is of the essence. But I spent as much—as little?—time as possible cleaning off the seat with some toilet paper and got down to business. Ahhhhhhhhh! That poor bastard sitting in the stall next to me! I think I shit out a large, decomposing raccoon. And besides, even though the whole situation was gross, I figured the movie would be over by the time I got out so I could just go home and shower right away. So this wasn’t as comfy an experience as being on your home field, but at least that thought was comforting.
But gentlemen, there are some things to be gleaned from this situation. Did you ever wonder why the hell women take so damn long in a public bathroom? Or why there’s always a line outside their bathroom? Well, I now know why. Listen closely, fellahs. It’s not that they wear a lot of layers, or that they are chatting with their girlfriends, or even that they’re spending time looking in the mirror touching up their hair and faces …
It’s the toilet paper. Public restrooms have terrible toilet paper. It’s absolute shit. It’s shit-covered shit. And it’s not even that it’s as thin as Brittany Murphy (Too soon? Oooh!), it’s that it’s as wide as a baseball card. I mean, what the fuck is that? Seriously, it covers about three fingers’ worth of your hand. This is why women spend so damn long in the bathroom, men. This is the answer right here: It’s because they have to spend 10 minutes wrapping that paper, and crumpling it and folding it and contorting it in such a way, that it covers their entire hand. And you know what? I don’t blame them. Not at all. Not in the least.
And you know what else? Why the hell is that industrial-sized toilet paper dispenser always like 6 inches off the ground? Who can reach that thing? Then you have to walk that tightrope where you reach your hand in gingerly and try and pull the paper down as gently as you can so that you can get an ample amount but make sure it does not touch the floor. Is there anything grosser than that? Seriously, you pull at the paper and it takes you a good minute or two just to get the rhythm going where you can pull a little and clump it in your hand without it touching the floor. The first five pulls you inevitably rip off one damn square, so you have to keep trying until you get your pace. Then you finally get enough paper in your hand that you can bring it up to waist level and reapportion it for general wiping use.
It’s a long and winding road, gentlemen. It’s a painstaking process. So next time those ladies are taking fucking forever in a public restroom, cut them some slack. They've got one heckuva situation to deal with, one we only come across in the worst of times.
We may be able to pee standing up. But heck, they can hover!
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Change of philosophy is needed
I would like to bitch at the way cashiers give you your change back. And this goes for every cashier—from Starbucks, to Duane Reade to The Gap. Why do they INSIST on putting the bills in your hand first and then the change? Maybe it’s just me but once they fill my cupped hand with bills and then spill the coins right on top of the bills—with the dexterity Elin wielding that golf club, I might add—all the coins do is slip down the damn bills and wind up on the fucking floor! It’s friggin annoying! Just put the change in my bare hand first so I can grab the bills between my fingers. It’s not that hard, people!
And another thing: If my bill is like $11.03, and I hand you a $20, can’t you just give me back $9. I mean fuck the three cents, ya know? Now, I gotta wait for your dumb ass to figure out how to make 97 cents? C’mon. No!
And another thing: If my bill is like $11.03, and I hand you a $20, can’t you just give me back $9. I mean fuck the three cents, ya know? Now, I gotta wait for your dumb ass to figure out how to make 97 cents? C’mon. No!
Monday, December 14, 2009
Well, at least some rest for the weary
Silly me. I have been left thinking recently that the price of a movie ticket in New York City has gotten out of hand. They are around $11.50 now. I feel bad for the high school kid that wants to take his girlfriend out to dinner and a movie. That’s like $100! But on second thought, it all depends on what you go to the movies for.
You and I will pick out a movie that we want to see; we’ll probably go get a Sprite and some Sno-Caps and watch the previews until the flick starts. But that’s not what my parents do. They go to take a nap! I used to think this was insane; I used to think it was such a waste of money to shill out $11.50 for a movie only to fall asleep in it. I was definitely wrong.
My parents were up for a week for the Thanksgiving holiday, and we did our usual eating, shopping, hanging out and seeing a few movies. (Remember, I’m using the word see lightly.) One day, I’m not sure which, we go out to Long Island to shop and eat and then we decided to just head off to the movies without consulting a time schedule or what was playing. To make a long story short, we get to the theater and my mother made the call to see “An Education” without any of us knowing what it was about. But she was adamant that’s what we were all going to see. Ok, fine, we said, we’ll all go see that. We heard it was good. It’s 2:15 in the afternoon, my father pays for the tickets, and we head for the theater just in time for the 2:30 showing.
By 2:28 both of my parents are asleep! And I can’t believe it.
Truth is, being good shoppers and loving a bargain, my parents got a really good deal. Turns out a 20-minute nap at MetroNaps is $14. It’s $9.50 for each additional 20 minutes. So that two-hour movie gave my parents each $61.50 worth of napping for $11.50. Good for them!
You and I will pick out a movie that we want to see; we’ll probably go get a Sprite and some Sno-Caps and watch the previews until the flick starts. But that’s not what my parents do. They go to take a nap! I used to think this was insane; I used to think it was such a waste of money to shill out $11.50 for a movie only to fall asleep in it. I was definitely wrong.
My parents were up for a week for the Thanksgiving holiday, and we did our usual eating, shopping, hanging out and seeing a few movies. (Remember, I’m using the word see lightly.) One day, I’m not sure which, we go out to Long Island to shop and eat and then we decided to just head off to the movies without consulting a time schedule or what was playing. To make a long story short, we get to the theater and my mother made the call to see “An Education” without any of us knowing what it was about. But she was adamant that’s what we were all going to see. Ok, fine, we said, we’ll all go see that. We heard it was good. It’s 2:15 in the afternoon, my father pays for the tickets, and we head for the theater just in time for the 2:30 showing.
By 2:28 both of my parents are asleep! And I can’t believe it.
Truth is, being good shoppers and loving a bargain, my parents got a really good deal. Turns out a 20-minute nap at MetroNaps is $14. It’s $9.50 for each additional 20 minutes. So that two-hour movie gave my parents each $61.50 worth of napping for $11.50. Good for them!
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Some Random Thoughts...
Periodically I have a couple of non-sensical things I want to get off my chest that really don't lend themselves to elaboration. Here are a few below:
1) Remember that old trick question from grade school: Which weighs more—a pound of feathers or a pound of marbles? The answer was they both weigh the same, right? Because they both weigh a pound? I thought so. So then, tell me, why does a new Burger King commercial for its quarter-pounder tote it as bigger than McDonald’s quarter-pounder? Does that make any sense to anyone else?
2) Has anyone noticed that Bono is looking more and more like Robin Williams? Put some sunglasses on Robin and spend an hour or so shaving his body and you get Bono. Think about it.
3) I absolutely, positively cannot stand the fact that T-Mobile is a HUGE sponsor of Madison Square Garden, yet I have T-Mobile and I have NO RECEPTION INSIDE THE ARENA!!! How the hell does that make any sense whatsoever? Yea, great advertising, people at T-Mobile. I believe their chief marketing officer is a person named Sirini Gopalan. Feel free to complain, New Yorkers.
4) I’m sure not many of you even bother to go to the teller in the bank anymore. But I’m old school, and for deposits I always feel safer bringing my cash/checks to the counter. The problem is, have you ever noticed that there are NEVER any working pens at the bank? You go up to that counter with the deposit/withdrawal slips and there’s usually at least four of those pens tied to a string on the counter. Do any of them work? Of course they don’t! What the fuck?! Seriously, as the bank employee is busy every morning filling up those damn slips of paper, can’t they take one extra second and see if the pens work?
1) Remember that old trick question from grade school: Which weighs more—a pound of feathers or a pound of marbles? The answer was they both weigh the same, right? Because they both weigh a pound? I thought so. So then, tell me, why does a new Burger King commercial for its quarter-pounder tote it as bigger than McDonald’s quarter-pounder? Does that make any sense to anyone else?
2) Has anyone noticed that Bono is looking more and more like Robin Williams? Put some sunglasses on Robin and spend an hour or so shaving his body and you get Bono. Think about it.
3) I absolutely, positively cannot stand the fact that T-Mobile is a HUGE sponsor of Madison Square Garden, yet I have T-Mobile and I have NO RECEPTION INSIDE THE ARENA!!! How the hell does that make any sense whatsoever? Yea, great advertising, people at T-Mobile. I believe their chief marketing officer is a person named Sirini Gopalan. Feel free to complain, New Yorkers.
4) I’m sure not many of you even bother to go to the teller in the bank anymore. But I’m old school, and for deposits I always feel safer bringing my cash/checks to the counter. The problem is, have you ever noticed that there are NEVER any working pens at the bank? You go up to that counter with the deposit/withdrawal slips and there’s usually at least four of those pens tied to a string on the counter. Do any of them work? Of course they don’t! What the fuck?! Seriously, as the bank employee is busy every morning filling up those damn slips of paper, can’t they take one extra second and see if the pens work?
Monday, December 7, 2009
I have a hangnail. Please pass the bacitracin, vicodin and gauze.
Let’s call Fibromyalgia what it really is: Neurotic Jewish Woman’s Disease. Oh, those commercials make you believe it’s a real disorder, something older women get if they are experiencing widespread pain without any real explanation. Well honey, lemme explain something to you: If there’s no real explanation for what’s wrong with you IT’S ALL IN YOUR HEAD!!! It is the physical manifestation of your crazy, nervous, overthinking head.
If your daughter is 28 and still single—fibromyalgia. If your 17-year-old son pierced his nipples—fibromyalgia. If you are worried about how you are going to pay for your granddaughter’s second nose job—fibromyalgia.
Don’t you love how these pharmaceutical companies make a pill for EVERYTHING now? I am thoroughly convinced a disorder or disease does not exist until GlaxoSmithKline says it does. Hey, well, if they make a pill for it it’s gotta be real, right?! Hello, they are profiting off of this! The commercials even tell you so. Ever notice? They start off: “If you’re experiencing pain across your body, that won’t go away, it IS real. You’re not imagining it. Go talk to your doctor. And ask them for Lyrica.” Wow, how clever of them?! I watch these commercials over and over again laughing my ass off. We really are a stupid people. Americans that is.
If your daughter is 28 and still single—fibromyalgia. If your 17-year-old son pierced his nipples—fibromyalgia. If you are worried about how you are going to pay for your granddaughter’s second nose job—fibromyalgia.
Don’t you love how these pharmaceutical companies make a pill for EVERYTHING now? I am thoroughly convinced a disorder or disease does not exist until GlaxoSmithKline says it does. Hey, well, if they make a pill for it it’s gotta be real, right?! Hello, they are profiting off of this! The commercials even tell you so. Ever notice? They start off: “If you’re experiencing pain across your body, that won’t go away, it IS real. You’re not imagining it. Go talk to your doctor. And ask them for Lyrica.” Wow, how clever of them?! I watch these commercials over and over again laughing my ass off. We really are a stupid people. Americans that is.
Friday, December 4, 2009
As seen on TV
What is the deal with commercials on TV for restaurants that are NOWHERE NEAR the vicinity of the market in which they are shown? Red Robin, CiCi’s, Sonic, Golden Corral, Joe’s Crab Shack, Jack in the Box to name but a few, are ALWAYS shown on TV in New York, yet those places are just not even remotely close to where I live. It’s annoying. Now, one of my savvy political friends tells me the answer is because it doesn’t cost any more to buy a national spot on TV than it does a regional one, which may be true. But I’m sorry, just cuz I see a commercial for Sonic’s MegaSuperQuadrupleBaconHeartAttackMaker burger doesn’t mean the next time I’m driving to North Carolina am I going to go out of my way for one. Thank G-D for DVR, huh?
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