Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Second, I'd like to give props to the proprietor at the Chinese buffet for holding an intelligent conversation about John Roberts today, albeit a brief one and in broken English. More proof that Asian-Americans are better at things other than math and tricking out Honda Civics. He was worldly, and made one mean Kung Pao Chicken. (On that note, Congrats to Sigs and Nockers on getting married. I'm assuming nothing goes wrong in the next 48 hours.)
Third, I will pander to you and write a blog.
Previously, we've written an open letter to Mr. David Stern letting him know that I was forgoing my final two years of law school eligibility to declare for the NBA draft. Luckily, an interesting loophole allowed me to keep my IM eligibility, as Nye is not just my agent, but also my adopted Father. Therefore, all the cash and bling that he so generously provided me with were simply tokens of love from a dad to his kid. The Donkey Punchers immediately filed a protest, but Rec Sports realized that its hands were tied (and that I have a lot of time to write tersely worded emails if they didn't do what I asked).
It was looking like the Clifton Public Defenders were going to dominate everything from basketball to inner-tube water polo. However, I have another major announcement to make. I am declaring my intent to apply for the next vacancy on the Supreme Court. I know, I know, you don't apply, you're appointed, but I just want to let Bushy know that I'm here for him.
If high schoolers can go directly to the top of the basketball profession, why can't I go directly to the top of the legal profession? I have no previous judicial decisions for either side of the political spectrum to take issue with. I haven't represented any politically hot clients or organizations. Hell, I haven't even participated in moot court let alone "real" court.
The Supreme Court could use an extreme makeover. I would drastically lower the average age of the court. It seems more and more likely that "clerking for the Supreme Court" actually means "fixes Metamusil and Quaker Oats." I promise to shift the definition back to "inviting that girl to dinner" and "fixing a vodka martini" and maybe even a little "writing decisions about the most pertinent issues of the day." I know the all important 18-44 year old male demographic, I will bring them home to you, Mr. Bush.
My friends all say I should go into politics, they will provide recommendations as needed. Also, you don't even need to pay me. I've already signed a lucrative endorsement contract with Lexis-Nexis. I promise writing "This opinion brought to you by the good people at Lexis-Nexis" will not tarnish the integrity of the court. However, the fact that I am a single man that enjoys going out may. I promise to cut back my time on the bar scene if appointed, especially if you throw in one of the twins with my appointment (I'd prefer Barbara).
My lack of experience is a negative? Not so, my friend. My lack of experience merely means that I'm like a lump of clay waiting to be molded by whatever administration chooses me for the Supreme Court.
Dear White House,
I am your pawn.
Love and Kisses,
I'll keep everyone updated as to how my accelerated career path pans out. Right now, better get on finishing up resumes and cover letters for next summer.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Also, for what it's worth, one of the assignments on my desk this morning is responding to a letter from a woman who lives over 1800 miles away because she objects to the City's law against owning pit bulls. She likened the bit bull ban to banning African-Americans, Native-Americans, and other ethnic, racial, and religious groups. Unbelievable.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Saturday, July 23, 2005
We had been at one bar most of the night, then ended up heading to another bar near the end of the night. I went up to the bar and got a beer, then turned around to see one of my friends sitting there with his shirt off. Some guy came up to us and told me that we had to leave. I calmly and politely thanked him for his concern, but that we'd be alright without his advice. I did this by saying the words "Fuck off, asshole." I don't know what level of vagina this guy was, but he went and got the bouncer and told him that some drunk guy took his shirt off in the bar. The bouncer then immediately kicked us out of the bar.
Now, I was a little pissed about getting kicked out last night, but I was drunk enough that I didn't care. Thinking about it this morning (and I use 'morning' liberally), it was actually total bullshit that we got kicked out.
If a drunk girl had taken her shirt off at the bar, I don't think the douchebag at the bar would have summoned a bouncer. Furthermore, once the bouncer got there, I don't think he would have kicked her out. When a guy takes his shirt off, he has to be a total prick and kick people out that aren't really doing shit. Meanwhile, there's most likely some fully clothed asshole in the corner that's slipping roofies into some girl's drink. Who do you think women find more offensive?
Then again, the kid with his shirt off also lost the phone number of girls that wanted to go hot tubbing with us later. So maybe he deserved it.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
There were 114 people in my dorm freshman year, and almost everone in the dorm was crazy to some degree or another. Some were normal-but-a-little-crazy (for example, one of them was just crazy enough to marry me) and some were completely out of touch (for example, one did not shower until Thanksgiving). The really crazy ones had nicknames such as Chode Boy Phil, Mad Mike, Penis Boy, Phil Next Door with the Poor Conversation Skills, and even one whose friends called him Hitler. But this story is about Steeler Steve and Beethoven Brian.
Steeler Steve was a decent enough guy. He got his name, of course, because he was from Pittsburgh. Other than that, I liked the kid -- he was pretty friendly. I also may have liked him because he was overweight, uncoordinated, and unathletic, and I liked to think that that's basically what most the yinsers in Pittsburgh look like.
Beethoven Brian (so named because, like Beethoven, he was a genius on the piano but a little crazy in every other respect. And yeah, I know that Beethoven wasn't the composer who went nuts, but Chopin Brian isn't alliterative, is it? You got the point) was pretty quiet. He was tall and thin, looked like he could be a scrapper.
Let me set the stage for you. The dorms on the north side of campus are big squares, with the stairs and bathrooms in the middle. In two opposite corners were small study rooms. One had a few desks/study carrels and the other had a table and chairs.
On this particular day, Beethoven Brian was studying in the lounge with the table and chairs, which happened to be the one just three doors from my room. Well, Steeler Steve wanted to use the room. So in he goes, and says to Beethoven Brian, "I want to use the study room. Get out." Beethoven Brian, not surprisingly, said no. They argue for awhile, tempers flaring a bit. Eventually someone suggests that they just share the table in the room. And why not -- it's not like either of them wants to spread out paper or anything, they're just reading from their respective notebooks. So they sit on opposite sides of the table and apparently peacefully coexist for a bit.
Eventually, Beethoven Brian had to go to the bathroom. Fearing that Steeler Steve would lock him out of the study room, Beethoven Brian grabbed Steeler Steve's notebook and ran to the bathroom. When he came back, Steeler Steve had locked the door to keep Beethoven Brian out, and had also turned off the lights in the room. So not only could Steeler Steve not be studying because Beethoven Brian had his notebook, he couldn't study even if he had anything else because he was sitting at a table, by himself, in the dark. So Beethoven Brian knock-knock-knocked on the door until, finally, Steeler Steve opened it up. They proceeded to have the following exchange in the doorway.
"Let me in," said Beethoven Brian.
"No," said Steeler Steve. "Give me my notebook back."
"No, let me back in. I was there first."
"No, give it back."
"No, let me in."
"No, I want my notebook."
And with that, Steeler Steve reached to grab the notebook out of Beethoven Brian's hand.
Before Steeler Steve's chubby hand could even get close to the notebook, Beethoven Brian jacked him in the face with a right cross. Supefied, Steeler Steve stumbled out of the room and shoved Beethoven Brian into the wall which just happened to be directly across from my door. Steeler Steve stalked off toward his room, but like I said, Beethoven Brian is a scrapper and he wasn't about to let Steeler Steve get away with it that easily. He grabbed Steeler Steve and bulldogged him into the water fountain, gashing him above the eye. By the time a few of us caught up with them to get them separated, Beethoven Brian had Steeler Steve in a headlock and had wedged him between the wall and the edge of the water fountain, and was just wailing away on his face.
We pulled them apart and sent them to their respective rooms. Final tally was two black eyes, a gash above the eye, and a cut lip.
So, don't ever tell me that you had more nerds at your school than I did. I guaran-damn-tee that I'm the only guy here who went to college with guys who got into a fistfight -- not over a girl, not over money, sports, or while drinking -- but over who got to use a study room.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Sitting on plane with very distinguished [EGS] prof (he was one of five guys invited to a conference last year - of the other four three were Nobel laureates in econ and one was Bill Clinton). I woke up around 3am when he was elbowing me in the face. He was asleep and trying to stand up. Eventually did. Proceeded to walk (we were in the first row of our section) to the stewardess' seat and drop his pants. I looked around. Everyone was asleep.
I went and woke him up. I think he was a little embarrassed to be standing there in just his tighty whities. So... we are landing and the stewardess sits down. She yells. Her seat is soaked. She does not know why. Holy shit. She is twisting the seatbelt and some liquid is POURING out. The seat is fucking soaked. We both sit in silence. He with shame. I with guilt.
Good to know that you can still be a world-reknowned professor at a world-reknowned university even if you can't control your bladder, isn't it?
Friday, July 15, 2005
i thinkkk addi assssked kjoohn sdthe sameeequestioioaon oveer andnnooovvvver.'' aadkjddddssss
now re;;rre goinaag to watcth a movie aaand tryy too slsssp ittt fof
daf igtoao wpe
Thursday, July 14, 2005
2.) Michele Wie shouldn't play in the Masters. If she does, I expect many average male basketball players to try out for the WNBA. I still maintain my high school team could win the WNBA title. If women are going to be allowed to play men's sports (when there is an equivalent women's league), then men need to be allowed to play women's sports. I remember a few years ago when an English guy in California tried to play HS field hockey. Women's groups everywhere bitched. However, if men's groups say anything about women playing in PGA events, we are chauvanistic and juvenile, whatever.
3.) The Melinda girl on the new Real World is ridiculously hot. She seems totally cool as well, except for the fact that she's in love with this Danny guy after like 2 days. I can't judge though, I've fallen in love with her after about 2 episodes. Oh, did I mention she is a self-described nympho.
4.) Bulldozers Softball is looking to end our 3-game slide. The problem is we haven't scored more than 7 runs in the last 3 games. This is the same team that played a 31-28 game in the fall. The heart is lacking in the summer.
5.) I learned today that Kristin from Laguna Beach and I share a birthday. We also share the birthday with Benedict Arnold, Byron Leftwich, Dave Grohl, LL Cool J, and Albert Schweizer. I would definitely sleep with 2 people that share my birthday.
6.) Itemized lists are trite, but I really have nothing to blog about this week, it's been pretty boring.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
The entertainment industry is entering the twilight of its career, almost given a fatal blow by college students across the nation. Luckily, the Supreme Court intervened and decided to save Hollywood in the recent Grokster decision. I totally agree with the decision, and I think it was very well reasoned. The fundamental tenet of a capitalist society is, after all, being rewarded for your work. However, based on the excessive whining coming out of California and New York recently, I feel I need to join the 9 justices in their fight for the rich and famous.
Rockers, models, actors, actresses, and directors are just like you and me. It's cliched, but still very true. They wear the same clothes, drive the same cars, and live in the same type of houses (sidenote:do a google image search for "Snoop Dogg," interesting second image, huh?). It's not fair for college students, who work similar types of jobs, to rip them off by downloading music and movies.
This alarming trend is troublesome at best. Using advanced computer technology, I was able to project what Hollywood would look like in 2010 if this trend continues. Disgusting. Here is a rendition of Beverly Hills in 2015. If there is one thing we don't need, it's another Pittsburgh.
To help the Supreme Court, I have established the Save-a-Celebrity foundation. For only $310,000 a month, that's just $10,000 a day, YOU can help save a celebrity. How can you say no to a face like this, or this? Hollywood continues to churn out quality products, if you want this trend to continue, please, please donate to Save-a-Celebrity.
I'm sorry if I caused alarm, but I have to run. My girlfriend wants me to come to bed.
Monday, July 11, 2005
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Thursday, July 07, 2005
It's a good thing I'm so damn smart, because you would think being pro-choice and against the death penalty would be a hard combination to justify. It totally makes sense to kill unborn children and spare the lives of convicted criminals. See, with the unborn baby there is no chance that the mother mistakenly wanted an abortion. However, with criminals, one might be falsely convicted of a crime they did not convict then murdered. This is just basic logic people. In review: Killing babies: Hot! Killing convicted rapists, murderers, etc.: SO NOT COOL!
Foreign policy? I'm totally for globalization. I have no idea what this means, but Brad Pitt told me it would help Africa on that cool "One" commercial. He is so hot (the dimples!) that he must know a bunch about economics in general and international trade policy specifically. I mean, he did play a foreigner in Troy (I don't think it was about the Troy in Ohio, they had such funny clothes on).
Oh, and you think I don't know gun control? Please!! It's so obvious that a lack of serious gun control is the reason for violence today. I mean, look at Canada and Europe, they have REALLY strict gun control, so no murders. The problem is definitely the NRA and Charlton Heston. I know that anyone who commits a murder secretly whispers to themselves, "I fucking love you C.H." after they shoot someone. It's a little known fact, but 99.9% of murderers are within 6 degrees of separation of an NRA member. You can't make this up, people!
Actually, you can, like Michael Moore. He is a role model for our generation. He goes deep into the issues at hand and portrays them fairly in "documentaries"***. He never barters in sensationalism or Jerry Spring shock value. I mean, the man is so busy saving the world that he refused requests from struggling, college filmmakers to make a Moore-esque documentary about his life. He is such a man of the people!! (Or at least before he made millions on millions of dollars off of political propaganda, he's the best at it since the Nazis!)
I'm so smart, sometimes I scare myself. I'm able to simultaneously criticize President Bush for the budget deficit, yet still want to increase the size of government. If it were up to me, everyone would get paid the same amount for whatever job they did by the government, the government would hold a monopoly in every major market, and no one would ever feel inferior. I heard government plans like these have been very successful in Eastern Europe and some parts of the Caribbean.
Affirmative action is the easiest way to make sure that everyone gets a fair shake in life. The easiest way to end any sort of racial discrimination is to make sure we have a system in place that makes what ethnicity you are a determining factor in getting into college, getting a job, etc. Obviously, people will not feel their race is an issue if it's such an important reason for them getting the job. It's important that there be a "critical mass" of minorities in any scholastic or work environment. If there wasn't, who would you get to give the cool nickname of "Token"???
Finally, NO BLOOD FOR OIL!!****
*** I'm sorry, but my contempt for Michael Moore runs so deep that I can't even call his films documentaries when I'm being sarcastic.
**** Unless this oil is going into my Pathfinder. Hey, whatever, I have a Green Peace and a N.O.W. sticker on the back, I can do what I want.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
My political views are like they are because my Dad told me this was 'the only way that makes sense.' That is why I go to pro-life rallies whenever I can. I totally think killing a little baby is so wrong. The sanctity of life is the fundamental building block of any society, we must protect it at all costs**. Unless, of course, we are talking about criminals, then we should send electricity coursing through criminals' veins until they shit themselves. That's sanctity of life, bitch.
Don't get me started on gay marriage, that's just so wrong. First, I don't even want to talk about gay males, disgusting! I don't really get lesbians either. I mean, one time my Dad pounded his two closed fists together when I asked him about lesbians. I don't really know what this means.
When it comes to economic policy, I think President Bush should really make sure that my Daddy keeps his job. He can do this by awarding his company, which donates heftily to the Republican Party, more government contracts. My Daddy says, "Buying contracts is just as easy as buying 2-bit Asian whores." I think that is economic policy, right? I would hate it if my Daddy lost his job, then we'd probably have to get rid of the room full of $20 bills that I get to swim in and my pony named James Baker. So I will always vote Republican, even if I know nothing about issues, candidates, or policy!
Oh, PS - I will generally make fun of minorities, but my best friend is black! And I know a lot of gay people, and they are real fun and good at acting and color-coordinating clothes.
** at all costs means "unless anyone really close to me gets pregnant, then we will drive directly to the abortion clinic, not passing go, not collecting $200."
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
I have a biology degree, my wife is in medical school, and I still don't know the answer to this question
Saturday, July 02, 2005
We got into a big argument about abortion last night, it was fantastic. Of course, we were completely trashed, so the "intellectual conversation" denegrated into off-color remarks about coat hangers. Luke Thomas would be so proud.
This morning's question was, "Women in what occupation give the best handjobs?" How we got there, I don't really know. However, Murph astutely pointed out that concert violinists most likely took top honors. I was impressed, until he told me he realized this while watching a high school orchestra. I could not find him on the registry of sex offenders in DC, but he does look like he's 17, so it may be legal.
Now, we're watching the women's final at Wimbledon, trying to figure out if women's tennis players make these noises in bed. If anyone has any insight, please enlighten me.
I learned last night that DC women do not enjoy being called prostitutes. They also do not appreciate being refered to as 'hookers', 'whores', or 'sluts' when you're talking to the cabby. Go figure.
Speaking of cabbies, I had the pleasure of sharing the following dialogue with a cabbie stopped next to our cab at a red light:
Cabbie: Pardon me sir, but do you have any Grey Poupon?
Me: No man, sorry, but we do have some girls in the back that you can have.
Cabbie: I see, if you feel like sharing, I love me some white girls. Oh yes. Oops, green light, gotta go!
Then my new favorite cabbie ever peeled off into the DC night. The goal for my remaining 48 hours here will be to find this man. (This dialogue, once again, did not endear me to the ladies sharing the cab with us)
All in all a good first night. We even made it to McDonald's breakfast this morning.