Gobble gobble! <=it's the sweet sound of a turkey, and ironically an onomatopoeia for eating the turkey as well.
Thanksgiving is here! Arguably the bestest holiday ever, Thanksgiving officially marks the beginning of the holiday season. Gather your family and call your friends...let's not let the turkey holocaust be for nothing.
Are you ready? You know the conversation is going to come up - What are youuuu thankful for? If you struggle answering this question, or are tired of your lame and unoriginal thankful-izing, let's prep a list of thank-taculocity.
I'm thankful for...
1. A wife who's only flaw was marrying me. (awww...i'm gonna be sick)
2. A strong liver...because without 'em, I'd still be single and socially awkward. (honest honesty honestly is the best policy).
3. Your support as I pursue my dream of becoming a professional kazoo-ist. (dream big people...dream big)
4. Becoming an uncle. (finally, women will talk to me when I take the cutie to the park)
5. Getting rejected. (I might have never discovered my passion for organizing closets)
6. It NOT being Valentine's Day. (three months until I'm reminded of being lonely and undesirable)
7. Puppies. (no wisecracks. puppies are cute.)
8. Having a job. (don't tell the old lady that it's really my last two weeks)
9. Superheros. (what would movies be today with'em?)
10. You. (for all that I do through the year for the "us" and even just for you, I'm grateful for every moment we can break to say "I love you.") <=awww...gross.
You've gotta love the holidays. It's a time to be with friends and family. Happy Gobble Gobble with mucho gobbling!
It's Thanksgiving...Spank You Very Much...
Tales from Beyond 6th and Alexandria
Despite having plenty more stories of teenage stupidity to divulge from this particular city block, I bring to you evidence of stupid-o-city from beyond.
I grew up a wanderer. Name a place around the SoCal area, and I've likely wasted some of my life there. Playing pool (for more than mere bragging rights) was my thing, so I traveled all around for the hustle.
Along the way, I met plenty of dumb asses. There was a group of wanna-be gangsters around the GG area. What made them such wanna-be's? Prepare for stupid:
Give an idiot a gun and wait for the Darwin award.
These guys with brains like unbaked bread dough managed to get a hold of a shotgun. According to them, the shotgun was evil because they never knew when it would fire. It could be that the gun was defective, but it's more likely that they were just too dumb to know which end was safe to hold and which end went "bang bang." Nevertheless, guns have a phenomenal ability to grow testicles on a teenager where none existed before.
With the presumed broken shotgun in hand, the band of hooligans decided to rage chaos at the most popular billiard in Garden Grove. They scrambled around the entrance shouting nonsense. Mr. Macho with the defective weapon flailed it about - feeling secure that outsiders had no idea it'd never fire. He took a step forward, and with the barrel pointed at the ground, he pumped the shotgun. Bang! Yep...it turned out to be not-so-broken afterall. A round went off, the pellets bounced off the sidewalk and peppered him in the face. It was a Dick Cheney moment, but much less dignified.
He survived with only minor injuries. The optimist in me likes to imagine that he's walking the Earth slightly smarter about gun safety. Something like, "pull trigger...gun go bang...and i before e except after c..."
More stories to come? Some feedback would be nice...
Tales from 6th & Alexandria (pt. 2)
Let's see...what's an interesting story to share...
Well, I guess I'll go into the story of the masked gunman at 6th and Alexandria.
There was a billiard called "Players" that catered to nearly all the delinquent youths in the tri-city area. The tables were new, clean, and all of the cue-sticks were actually straight. For a pool hall junkie like me, it was a little slice of heaven apart from the usual hole in the wall billiards and three-legged tables. The people were young, came looking good, and most importantly...they played for money.
It was a recipe for disaster. Soon enough, people came in with chips on their shoulders and something hyper-masculine to prove. As we normal patrons played our normal games, some random guy came marching in the business waiving a handgun at people.
"Wassup! F@#$ you bitches! Sup now?!" he proclaimed with the bravery a firearm rewards.
Before he could target a single person to displace his rage over his absence of functioning testicles, a girl walked up to the masked aggressor and smirkishly asked "Henry?" (His exact name escapes me). She must have guessed his identity correctly because he darted out of the building like a child caught with his pants at the ankles, masturbating to the centerfolds of National Geographic. I can only imagine how red he was in the face under the fiendishly clever veil.
How did she know? By what ingenius means of deduction did this girl manage to uncover his secret identity? Elementary my dear Watson:
1. Don't be a regular customer of the place you're about to commit a crime
2. Change your clothes stupid
It's like he was going to his best friend's party and expecting to maintain anonymity by covering his eyes with dental floss. What an idiot. Did he seriously think that we would be so far distracted by the fabric on his head that no one would recall his voice, height, frame, clothes, and shoes? Maybe if he wore the Emperor's new clothes and draped on an extra invisibility cloak, he could have salvaged his dignity for the night.
Sure, one could think that it was the girl's modest popularity and sweet powers of deduction that saved a life that night. But then again, he was stupid. A puppy with a fluffy tail could have stolen his attention.
And again, this is just further proof of how stupid teenagers are. If there's still interest in exploits of my never-before-spoken past, maybe I'll keep these tales going.
Tales from 6th & Alexandria
Hmmm....I feel compelled to share a story...
When I was a teenager, 6th and Alexandria was the place to be. I've got tons of stories from around that intersection.
It was THE teenaged hotspot because there was a billiard, an arcade, cheap food, and everyone sold alcohol to minors. Ahhh...all of the sweet memories are coming back.
My friends were doing the usual weekend loitering. And just like the typical weekend, trouble started brewing. A group of rival teenagers with something equally trivial to prove flashed their gang signs. (In the wilds of the gangland, flashing your gang sign was an open challenge of another group's authority to waste their life pretending to own the public benches). The challenge was heard, and my friends hiked up their extra over-sized jeans to ready their attack.
As one side shouted profanities, the other side would return shouting louder. Insults were always thrown before sticks and stones. No one's mother was spared. It was the second stage of the gang-war ritual:
1. Flash your gang sign
2. Shout at each other from across the street
3. Shout louder until you grab the public's attention
4. Approach each other and continue shouting
5. Someone yells that the police are coming
6. Run away while managing to shout a few more profanities
Like all the other times, we made our way down the entire list.
Yet, after the rival gangsters retreated to their cars, they decided to drive THROUGH the crowd. One of my friends actually got hit. The car struck him under the waist. He was launched into the air like a rag doll, did two complete back-flips, and then smacked the pavement. The eye's of bystanders widened. Everyone was shocked. But before a single person could run to him offering help, he picked himself up and casually walked away with his hands in his pockets...just as if nothing happened. (Rumor has it, he whistled while he walked).
Conversations about him getting hit by a car and walking away as if he only stopped to pick up a nickel continued for years. The moment earned him prestige and acceptance into the somewhat smaller subgroup of friends that were also run over by cars. They would laugh about what they were doing before gangsters plowed them down. Competitions over who got struck at the highest speed were common. It was funny how often the cars were Hondas or Acuras that mowed them over.
I guess you had to have been there....
All in all, we learned that teenagers are pretty stupid. Next time, maybe I'll tell you the story of the masked gunman that was recognized by a friend in the billiard - just another tale of teenaged stupidity from 6th & Alexandria.
Live. Laugh. Love.
All the Wrong Rules
When a girl says no, it usually means to try again later. At least that's how we men see it. The conversation often goes:
Me: Hi. You want to hang out sometime?
Girl: No.
Me: Are you free? Care to grab some coffee?
Girl: No, and umm.....no.
Me: What about next weekend?
Girl: No.
Me: Here, let me help you carry that.
Girl: No.
Me: You know...I'm starting to get the feeling that this isn't going anywhere.
I always manage to find myself fighting from the losing side. If you'd like to learn exactly what to do and say in order to not get the girl, I'm your man. Get your pens and notebooks. Let's start the lesson.
Rule #1 - Be Nice
There's only two things in the world that woman love to kick in the stomach: puppies and nice guys. Sure, the kick in the stomach may come in the form of coddles and giggles, but it's never too long until both the puppy and the nice guy are reduced to trailing her every step, depressingly waiting for her slightest attention, and sleeping along the foot of the bed. All we get are pats on the head when we'd prefer a good rub (that's what she said).
Solution: Guys should never say "Hi" and smile. Instead, try saying "Hey" or "Sup" with a lifted brow and a smirk. Give her enough that you noticed she's alive, and resist the urge to greet her with your usual leg-humping. Men are not cute. Puppies are cute...and we're looking for more than a belly rub.
Rule #2 - Compliment her
Yea, that's right. Nothing says "just friends" like a good old compliment from a man to a woman. Tell her she's pretty. Mention how her hair is ssthOooOOoo fabulous. Then go ahead and lock away your penis because you're not going to be using it for a while. When her friends mention how great of a guy you are, she always tells them "yea I know! I'm keeping him around just in case things don't work out with Billy, or Jason, or my sister's boyfriend's brother, or maybe even that cute bartender from that one party where we ended up wearing matching dresses, which you totally looked so much cuter in, and we got the free drinks from those creepy loser guys that said they worked for the Peace Corps...anyways, he was dreamy wasn't he?"
Solution: Insult her shoes. Keep the insults teasing and tasteful, but keep on insulting. She left the house feeling like she looked good. All of her friends were raving back and forth about how gorgeous everyone was looking in the car ride. The last thing men need is to join in on that party. Distinguish yourself from the pack, and tease her about her shoes being so small you could hang them around your rear view mirror like baby sneakers.
Rule #3 - Pay for her
What better way is there to tell a girl to step all over your heart than by starting with your wallet? Give her what she wants. Let her take your money, your time, as well as your man pride. Never has a woman been created to appreciate a man taking care of the bill. It's what's expected. Somehow, woman were lead to believe that men truly find joy in bestowing upon them our hard earned money when we men really just see it as a down payment. Paying for dinner is a nice gesture, but it ain't seductive. It keeps you friends and the bill collectors knocking.
Solution: Make her pay first. When she pays, you get control. No longer do you have to deal with the female dinner thieves, nor will you be questioning a possible second date. She'll see you again to collect on her deposit. This is your time to really make an impression. Greet her with flowers and fine dine at a romantic restaurant. Put the second date on your tab to let her know that if she gives you a little, you'll return her with a lot.
Rule #4 - Be Smart
Intelligence is attractive, but only in that "can I borrow your notes" kind of way. A vast volume of intelligence implies a lot of alone time. A lot of alone time implies a lack of coveting. And women don't want what others don't notice. If you enjoy repelling girls into the arms of other men, read a book.
Solution: None really. Just try to avoid coming off as arrogant.
Live. Laugh. Love.
How to Survive this Economy
Gas prices went down about 40%, but the economy is still in the stinker. Unemployment is estimated around 6.5% and it will go higher as companies like DHL are slashing jobs and Circuit City goes bankrupt. Whether or not you're working in these gloomy times, just use some common sense to survive as well as thrive.
Potatoes
Start cutting back on your expenses. Learn how to eat cheap and smart. Vegetables are not only healthy, they're tax free. Stick to a strict diet of baked potatoes, beans, and a few greens. You might begin to feel your knobby knees buckle as you can no longer muster the strength to support the weight of your torso, but heck...you've got a couple extra dollars in your pocket now. Who's the winner? You're the winner.
Recycle
I ain't talking cans and bottles. In California, we pay a CRV (California Redemption Value) for recyclable beverage containers. With the imposition of a CRV, recycling has no reward because you pay the $o.o5 or $0.10 upfront - you could go dumpster diving, but that'll ruin your Sunday clothes. Start recycling water. Run a bath and don't ever drain it. Invest in a fish scooper to sweep out hairs and skin flakes from the surface. I guess you could stop bathing altogether, but that's just disgusting.
Sleep
It's quite simple - If you're sleeping, you ain't spending money. Why stay awake today when your dollar only has the same purchasing power as around $0.03 in the 1980s? Dreaming is fun and it's free.
Read
There's more to reading than the nutrition facts on your box of cereal. Grab a book and learn something. Pound for pound, reading delivers the most value for your money. Stop by your local library (yes, they still exist) and pick up something from their rustic collection. Books offer a greater depth and breadth of information, and possible entertainment for the geekishly inclined, than any TV show or movie for the equivalent length of time.
Windows
Spend less time sitting in front of the window that crashes and more time in front of the one with a breeze. You'll be surprised at how interesting people can be. Observe as each passerby glances at you and then abruptly grabs their child closer for safety. Count how many neighbors shut their blinds after spotting the glare of your binoculars. Set a timer and see how long it takes for the police to come knocking at your door. Don't worry, there's no law against being creepy...just remember to put on some clothes before you answer the door.
Time
Being wasteful truly starts with wasting your time. There's plenty of material written with advice on time-management, but it all boils down to a single premise. Do at least two things at once. Sitting on the toilet is a good time to be mending the holes in your socks. The morning commute is a great opportunity to catch up reading the daily paper, especially if you're on the 5 or 405 freeways.
Pennies
Take advantage of the "take a penny, leave a penny" tray. You can even make a game of it. See how many times you can use every piece of spare change in the tray and try to beat it next time. Sometimes the "take a penny" dishes have labels on them that read "donate for [enter cause]." Pay no attention to the picture of the child with flies on his face. Donations are for the public good, and you're a member of the public also. Hook your finger through the top of the box and fish out a couple quarters. Oh yeah, a lot of businesses will mark "Tips" on some jars. Just deposit a note on time-management and compensate yourself reasonably.
All jokes aside, economies go up and down because they are essentially artificial. There's no real difference between a grocery bag and your Louis Vuitton - they both carry stuff. A $30 pair of jeans and a $200 pair both similarly cover your shame. If you find that money is tight, give a free hug. Give a compliment. Caress a cheek and tell the person how much their life means to you (assuming you're not strangers of course).
How to Deal with Rejection
Been turned down, or straight up avoided? Don't sweat...well...maybe just a little, but time heals all wounds. As the foremost expert on rejection with the scars to prove it, here's theBlueTick guide to surviving as one of the world's least desirable.
Getting rejected hurts a hell of a lot more if you couldn't see it coming.
Listen up well. Don't go off seeking full disclosure by having a "talk" if they've already been desperately distancing themselves from you. This ain't no love court. There is absolutely nothing you can say to persuade someone into being attracted to you. If you want to "talk" just to let them know how you feel, it's guaranteed that they already know - why else do you think they were avoiding you?
Here's two common signals that someone is not interested:
1. They don't ask you any questions. It sounds common sensical like making sure the emergency brake is off before hitting 80mph on the freeway, but all too often we get blinded by our own infatuation. Feeling attracted to someone clouds your senses with insecurities and jitters your nerves something awful. If they ask nothing about you, they feel nothing about you. Reality...it's tough...but check it.
2. Your mutual friend never mentions anything. A friend in the middle will ALWAYS mention an attraction. Everyone gets a thrill acting as a matchmaker. The reason why your third wheel friend has never talked about it is because there's nothing to talk about. You could send them off as a messenger on your behalf, but outsiders tend to easily spot mutual affect, or at least one-sided flirting, and will always come to you for the inside scoop. Consider it overkill to hire a friend to fight your battle. Good news comes to your door; we have to request the bad news.
5 minutes or 5 months...
Stimulating another person's loins all begins with making an impression. If you can't tickle a fancy in the first 5 minutes, your last chance is to become a regular guest star in their life for the next 5 months. The 5 minute impression involves the attractiveness of your look, stance, and small talk. In the next 5 months, your goal is to expand from the 5 minute impression through the consistency and positivity of your actions. Don't Urkel yourself with persistence bordering on nuisance. Focus on improving your own life while regularly appearing in theirs. Trust...they'll start taking notice of your smarts, ambition, great humor, and growing success. Even if the stars don't align for romancing each other, screw it. You're freaking smart and successful now - you've got options.
Follow the motto, "F@#$ it!"
All too often, our first reaction after being rejected is to spiral into a self-destructive pattern. Like a raging bull, we blindly go for the extra shot of tequila, or even worse, another pint of ice cream. Ohhh yeah...I can't tell you how many times I've seen the mascara tears dripping into the row of emptied shot glasses by the girl clambering about her broken heels and thought, "wow...sexy...I like-a-a-lot..." Ha! Even American Airlines doesn't want your carry-on baggage, so it's very unlikely anyone else would want to carry the emotional flubber extruding between your two piece. Learn to say F@#$ it! Immediately after hearing that the very thought of your naked body induces gagging reflexes off the richter scale, say F@#$ it and go on that 8 mile marathon you've been putting off.
If you must cry, cry in the shower.
Rejection can make you cry...but man...have some self-respect! Wait until you hop in the shower and turn on the warm water, THEN slap your palms on the tiled walls as you dramatically curl into fetal position while the sound of your wailing reverberates about the stall. The point is that reserving a time and a place for un-breaking your heart keeps you as the driver in control of your life. Never pander for pity.
The best revenge is massive success.
Hands down, the best way to deal with any rejection is to become massively successful. She won't go on a date with you? Hit up the bench press and get that promotion. He'll sleep with you but won't commit to a relationship? Run a few miles, get your hair done, and learn some sports facts to flirt up another guy. Take responsibility and own your life...the good and bad. You deserve all that comprises your life. Poor? You earned it by being lazy. Rich? You earned it by always doing that little more. Whether you're happy or sad, today is the result of what you did yesterday. The "luck" successful people refer to is the feeling of being blessed and fortunate for receiving big rewards from their hard work - it's not the random roll of the dice that we lazy paupers think of.
Always...always...seek to better yourself.
Dirty Talk by Rives
To make up for the seemingly unfriendly rant of my last post, here's something for fun...
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