Thursday, February 25, 2010

Once Every 4 Years Phenomenon



Every four years there's a leap year. Leap years are annoying because my birthday comes a day early on these years, and I'm at that age(over 16) where all the presents I get are a pat on the back and a deep seeded realization that I'm one year closer to getting prostate cancer and dying. Or married with kids that are nearing college age. One in the same.

But a number of other things happen once every four years and they are far more annoying. In no particular order:

1. People Pretend To Give A Shit About the Summer Olympics

Timeline: 1900(Paris), 1904(St. Louis), ....... , 2004(Athens), 2008(Beijing)

What happens:

Name a swimmer whose name isn't Michael Phellps....ugh....ummmm....
Fuck it. Name an event in swimming....The closest I've heard to an actual valid answer is the "there and back crawl."
But in summer of 08 everyone cared about swimming and all the Olympic sports. Scratch that. Everyone was an expert. Self proclaimed of course. People were making predictions. Analyzing the importance of certain accomplishments. Arguing about the skill sets and nature of each sport.

But as an alternate captain on the junior varsity baseball team who quit "sports" after sophomore year of high school, you are not only unaware of these athletes training programs but more than likely a complete stranger to exercise in general. Evidence of this rests in that odd feeling you get like you're having a heart attack or something when you climb the two flights of stairs to get to the food court at the mall.

Suggestions:

Unfortunately its too late for you. You sweat profusely when you read the quidditch chapters of Harry Potter. But you can, however, sign your kids up for real sports. And maybe some day you can be the mom in the stands cheering that deserves to give a shit about whats unfolding before them.

2. People Pretend To Give A Shit About the Winter Olympics

Timeline: 1924(Chamonix), 1904(St. Moritz), ....... , 2004(Turin), 2010(Vancouver)

What Happens:

"We've been getting emails from all over the country about interests in starting a local curling arena and team." - American Curling Association
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

The winter Olympics have actually become somewhat of an ironic tragedy. Every day I read an article about how Shani Davis doesn't hang out with the other American athletes. Or that Apolo Ohno is ignoring the press and doesn't care about what America thinks.

That's because 3 weeks ago America actually didn't give two squirts of piss. While baseball players sat around for four years injecting steroids into their eyeballs and eating diamonds in milk with a spoon, American speed skaters were working at Home Depot on the side so that they could eat enough calories to train.

But now they're in the spot light and suddenly America wants another Nevermind. And when they get In Utero instead they are upset. And then someone puts a shotgun in their mouth. Unlike Cobain, Apolo and Shani, wont be driven to such acts because in two weeks no one will give a shit again. And seeing as they're both 27(78 in Olympic Athlete years) they'll never win gold again. Or be famous. Or have a warm meal. Thank you so much America.

Suggestions:

Take 1% of one MLB player's salary and fund American Speed Skating for the next hundred years. Also, FUCK CURLING. God invented college so that we could invent drinking games. Finger Blaster should not be an Olympic sport but is a great substitute for curling.

3. Everyone is European All of a Sudden...it must be a World Cup Year

Timeline: 1930(Uruguay), 1934(Italy), .... 2006(Germany), 2010(South Africa)

What Happens:

Instead of hating Europe(especially France) everyone decides to embrace their heritage for a brief summer. This is what I mean by embrace:

1. You find out which country most of your great grand parents are from. Then you ignore that completely and take the country with the best soccer team that any of your ancestors has ever visited in the last 2000 years. My great grand uncle took a piss in Spain. Excellent. Me gusta el thiso.

2. You take your Italy or Portugal soccer track jacket out from under the bed and wear it for the next three months straight. Then you wash it. No need to put it in the dryer. It'll be air drying for the next 3 years and 9 months.

3. You read "your" teams roster so you can say you've been watching soccer all your life. You start every sentence with "blankety blank is almost as good as Pele." Whoever that guy is?

4. Optional: you buy a soccer ball because you haven't seen one since you were seven.

All of this would go out the window instantly if America won. Luckily America likes to employ coaches like Bruce Arena that think 1 person up front when you're down by 3 goals is the way to go. No wonder Americans hate soccer....except for once every four years.

Suggestions:

Learn Italian. That way when the ghost of your great-great-grand father visits you in your dreams you know what he says to you right before he lobs a hefty loogey on your face and gives you the classic Italian fist up the ass gesture.

5. Scorcese Releases A Hyped Film

Timeline: 2010(Shutter Island), 2006(Departed), 2002(Gangs of New York), ....

What Happens:

Taxi Driver is the go to "my favorite movie of all time." Your pick has to be from before 1980 or you look like an uncultured clown. The Godfather and war movies are just too cliche. So you go with Taxi Driver....the only other movie you've seen from before 1980 that isn't Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

And now to convince yourself how much of a movie buff you are you go out and see Marty's latest every four years. "Well it was no Taxi Driver but probably one of the best of the year..." Other movies you saw that year: 300, Transformers, Ghost of Girlfriends Past, Saw XIV, a comic book movie. Now I'm listening to you rattle off a collage of phrases like dark cinematography, Oedipus complex, desensitized violence, and American condition. I've never seen a hard cover copy of Catcher in the Rye but I wish I had one so I could clock you across the face with it.

Suggestions:

Some suggested viewing...go to the mirror. Yeah, that's right. Just like in the movie. Now you see that guy? Right there in front of you. Yeah, that guy. Martin Scorsese hates that guy.

6. The Presidential Election

Timeline: 2008(Obama), 2004(Bush), ...

What Happens:

What happens? The worst thing in human history is what. When there is no election in sight 18-28 year old males talk about dick jokes, family guy quotes, and sports. Girls talk about guys, clothes, and then guys some more. The world is good. Friendships grow stronger with each meaningless conversation.

Then the election comes....and ruins everything. Cuz while girls know tons about clothes, and guys have seen family guy episodes multiple times they know nothing about politics. Note that I didn't say "very little" but rather a clear cut "nothing."

But how can you talk endlessly about nothing? Better yet how could you possibly argue about nothing? You can't agree with nothing. You can't disagree with nothing. How is this possible? Here's how:

Pikachu: Pika-pika-chu-pika-chu-chu-pika.
Charmader: Char-char-char-mander-char.
Some guy: Care-care-care-health-care-health-health!
Some girl: Stem-stem-stem-cell-cell-cell-stem!
Other Guy: Ec-ec-ec-onomy-onomy!

Now the midterms are coming up which is even worse. Now we have only one issue to argue so every conversation is just can person 'A' scream yes-yes-yes louder than person 'B' can chant no-no-no?

Suggestions:

There's two choices. One is difficult: brush up on history, read a variety of newspapers consistently, and check non fiction books out of the library. The other choice is way easier: watch that episode of blankety blank on TV for the 13th time and forget we even have a government. Not like we know what they're up to anyway, and you sure as fuck can't change shit about it. This is the one time ignorance really is bliss. Arguments averted. Friendships intact. Dick jokes aplenty. So stop denying it. Embrace it.

7. Green Day Releases an Album

Timeline: 2009(21st Century Breakdown), 2004(American Idiot), 2000(Warning)...

What Happens:

Two things. First, radio overplay of the newest GD song sends 3 people plummeting off bridges every month for 8 months. Second, just about everyone else proclaims that Green Day used to be great but now they sold out and suck. The problem is that this theory seems to traverse to every band you listen to that hasn't broken up. Metallica, Weezer, Incubus, Pearl Jam, all punk bands by default, [insert any band ever that isn't classic rock].

Everyone easily parts with the garbawdjjjjj they listened to in high school. "Everyone had a copy of Hybrid Theory and Follow the Leader. Whateva kid." You say three Hail Mary's and listen to a Johnny Cash album for the first and last time ever and your sins are forgiven.

But then you get to college. And this cute girl on your dorm floor says you have to listen to this CD. The vibrant red and bleak blacks of the cover art makes you a lil skeptical but next thing you know you have livestrong thingy, an armband, and a concert bracelet on and you're in the middle of a My Chemical Romance concert. HOLY SHIT! How did this happen? Aforementioned cute girl hasn't even put out yet. What have I done?!?!?

Then the worst thing ever happens. Assured you at least have a chance to hit a single on this girl and get to first base you convince yourself that you actually LIKE this music. Just like the undercover cop that commits murder, there's no going back now. You're in too deep.

But suddenly college is over and employers are demanding you explain your Guster poster. What do you do?

1. Denial. "A girl bought me that CD and I NEVER even listened to it."

2. Denial alternate version. "Fall Out Boy is entertaining. Isn't that all that matters?"

3. Blame Green day. "Blankety blank used to be sooooooooo good. Now they suck. Just like GREEN DAY."

Suggestions:

Dig up some pictures of yourself from freshmen year of college on facebook. The reason you liked those bands back then is because THAT'S YOU. Green Day didn't sell out and start selling t-shirts to Hot Topic. You stopped shopping there. Congratulations btw.

8. Everyone in America Reads the Same Crappy Book

Timeline: 2007-2009(Twilight), 2003-2004(Da Vinci Code), 2000(Harry Potter), 1995(Goosebumps), ...

What Happens:

Okay. So granted, Twilight is just a chicks thing. But I've met one girl that hasn't read Twilight. Notice that I said "met." Not "known" or "are friends with." I could replace "met" with "seen" and it would still be a true statement.

Either way, this is the worst of the 4 year cycles because it launches a series that extends potential decades. Sorcerer's Stone was published in 1999. The new movies come out this year and next. Mother of god. Its like it never ends.

But at least people are reading...riiiiiiiigggggggghhhhhht??? It's kind of a mixed bag. Yes. People are reading. And if it encouraged them to stumble into the library and continue reading, you know other stuff, then indeed these popular books would be a good thing. But they do the opposite it turns out. It makes people hate other books. Its like feeding a baby candy from the day he's born. Of course, when he's a toddler he isn't gonna wanna eat broccoli. Same with books. What is this? This isn't the size 44 font I'm accustomed to.

So you end up with this across all of facebook -

Favorite Books: twilight, harry potter, dan brown, everything else SUX!

If that isn't just cause for the rapture in and of itself then I don't know what is. You invent Soma and we've already arrived at the Brave New World. Oh...wait....my bad....its like Hogwarts except instead of broom flying after ferries--. Ah. I give up.

Suggestions:

Write a one page short story about anything. Done? Here let me read it. Honest to god that was better than Angels and Demons. Its time to move on to bigger and better things.

9. Everyone in America Watches The Same Crappy Show

Timeline: 2001(24), 2005(Lost), 2010(TBD-hopefully not V)

What Happens:

Its baffling how a show only manages to achieve what Lost and 24 did once every 4 or 5 years. The formula seems insanely easy. You have a premise(literally anything), and then you just propose questions. Boom. Every American is at the water cooler talking about it. It doesn't matter how stupid the questions are. Or how earth shatteringly mind bogglingly inane the answers finally are(radiation, aliens, pandas, wormholes, pixie dust, a book that reads itself, who gives a fuck right). All that matters is that people can speculate. Maybe the pixie dust mixed with the radiation creating the book that reads itself? Hmmmmmm. Very interesting...

[SPOILER ALERT] The final episode of LOST is going to end with JJ Abrams addressing the camera directly and telling you that while you were watching his show every week he was sneaking into your bathroom and peeing into the back of the toilet so that when you flush pee comes out.

Suggestions:

This one is simple. Watch any non network drama that has survived more than two seasons. Any of them. ANY OF THEM! AMC, FX, HBO. It doesn't matter. Once you watch 5 episodes of Mad Men you'll realize you could have been having sex with supermodels instead of getting hand jobs from Janet Reno's manlier looking sister.


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Now since these events interweave its impossible to escape their grasp. At least one of these things is happening. As soon as the winter olympics end Eclipse will be out(didn't the last movie come out like 3 months ago?). Next thing I know I'm on the train and everyone's talking about Ronaldo. Then Harry Potter breaks the opening weekend record. And around it goes.

What we need is a nice zombie apocalypse to break us free from this cycle. Public option? Figure skating? Locke? None of these things can be fired from my gun and into zombie brains.

Rule 48: Curling wont help you kill zombies...(or have sex with Emma Stone)


Thursday, February 4, 2010

Y.M. (I here) C(eriously). A.

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In 1859 Louis Pastuer proved that spontaneous generation was scientifically incorrect with a flask filled with meat broth. I think its time we reopen the case because I'm convinced beyond any shadow of doubt that the YMCA breeds losers. It can't simply be that low admission costs and a family friendly attitude draw pathetic people to their doors. I'm positive that at night - when the lights are out - incompetent fucktards literally seep out of the walls. There can be no other explanation for their quantities.

A breakdown of the terrible demographic that is the YMCA frequenter:

1. Atherosclerosis -

You go to the Y to work out. To better yourself. Yet by the time you leave you want to kill yourself. The fun starts as soon as you pull into the parking lot. The parking lot is almost always full because most Y members only spend time in one of two places. The first being the Y and the second being the back room of strip clubs where they lick the walls clean for minimal wage.

When you enter the parking lot for unexplainable reasons - since there never is a spot - you're blinded by blinkers and hazard lights flaring. Cars are strewn around mangled in every direction possible. Was there an accident? Is Jesus Christ carrying a cross across the lot? In the least a baby is lying on the pavement, right?

Nope. These are people clogging the entire parking lot waiting for someone to leave and open up one of the spots NEAREST the building. Lets explore this idea for a moment. You're coming to "work out." But you spend 20 minutes preventing 20 extra steps to get to the front door? This is really helping unclog those fucking arteries.

Now I'm trapped and can't get out to the oh so far street parking. I consider whether I could get off a murder charge on the grounds that it was a crime of passion. I have my headphones in hand ready to strangle someone when I realize that a prosecuting attorney could easily prove that I have hated YMCA members since the day I was born. Shit. They have motive.

Ten minutes later I haven't been able to move so I find myself reaching for my headphones once again. I can work out in prison I tell myself. But then, at the last possible moment a herd of heifers pour out the doors and stampede to their SUV's. A YMCA yoga class must have just ended. I've never been so elated by the site of fatties advancing in my direction.

And why the fuck are there 30 handicap spots in front of the building?!?!? Can you put a wheelchair on a treadmill? Oh wait. Mentally handicapped. I get it.

2. Welcome Mat -

Now I'm inside. But my first forced interaction is with the miserable eye sores known as the YMCA receptionist. If I had a tumor I would name it "YMCA receptionist."

Contrary to the low pay, landing the receptionist gig is actually quite a process. What they do is put applicants inside a room with 10 children. Everyone is handed the same basic math skills test. In order to qualify for the job the following requirements need to be met. A) You perform lower in the math test than all the children. B) At least three of the children are driven to suicide by your presence.

One self asphyxiation and two belt hangings later and you're behind a desk in front of me. Your job now is to ensure that only 2 people per hour can manage entry into your building. National security is of course in question.

Tumor: Sir. Where do you think you're going?
Me: Into the locker room.
Tumor: You have to beep in.
Me: Fine.
Tumor: I'm helping these people. You need to step back into the line and wait your turn.
Me: Can you not hear it beep as you help them?
Tumor: That has nothing to do with it.
Me: With what?
Tumor: With you waiting your turn...
Me: Wait. I thought we were talking about your incompetence.

You couldn't possibly consider the above a job function. In fact, its the opposite, an unnecessary nuisance. The YMCA receptionist technically then performs one tangible task: "helping" new members apply. But I could apply and be accepted to an all black sorority before a Y receptionist even begins processing the paperwork for my application. They all seem to have some rare learning disability where they read words, but don't actually understand any of them. I've heard that in some medical circles this is sometimes refereed to as "stupidity."

And its not just the receptionists. Its everyone that works at the god damn place. I was standing on the pool deck seeing if there were any lanes open when this troll like creature steps to me. Usually I feel pity for such specimens but I leave empathy at the door of the YMCA.

Troll: You can't be on the deck in sneakers. You have to wear a shoe slip.
Me: I'm going.
Troll: No! Not that way. Go around.
Me: But your brother told me I had to start the reactor.

Pictured: Her brother telling me to start the reactor.

(Obviously she doesn't understand my Total Recall reference. She's not nearly angry enough for my liking.)
Me: You annoy me more than your scathing cunt warts annoy you.
(And success.)

I got asked by someone at the Y if I would be interested in teaching kids how to swim. I told them that upon receiving a pay check from the YMCA I would feel like Anne Frank if she received a certificate congratulating her on her hide and seek skills from the S.S.

3. Lets Stare Together -

At any given time there are about 200 people "working out" in the YMCA. Take the top two performers out of the following statistic. The total calories burned per hour by the remaining 198 people is somewhere around 14.

All these people do is wander and stare. Stare at machines. Stare at the one person actually doing exercise there. Stare at their fat asses in the mirror. Stare at goats. Do you know what the single most calorie burning activity amongst YMCA members is? Blinking. If human beings didn't have to hydrate their eyes and pull their eyelids up against the forces of gravity then calorie burning totals at the YMCA would diminish by 99.7%.

4. Cocoon -

Contrary to common belief Guernica actually depicts the horrors that engulf the YMCA swim pool not the dismal in comparison events of the Spanish Civil War.

The YMCA pool is simply put a stagnant toilet. Not because the water is so dirty but because every single person in it can easily be misconstrued as a floating log of rhinoceros shit.

At some point a false belief came about that merely being inside a swimming pool constituted exercise. Yeah. Just stand in the shallow end. Let osmosis take care of the rest. Ironically standing in water is less strenuous on the body than standing in your fucking kitchen. And why did I just say ironically completely inappropriately? What I meant to say was 'fucking obviously you useless pile of steaming ass dung!"

The first day I swam there I somehow managed to shit weave for 2000 yards. That puts the grand total of yards ever swum at a YMCA pool by that point to 2020. If there exists a strong case for not curing cancer it lies in the faces of the people cluttering the shallow end of that swim pool.

5. String Theorists -

If you have been standing in the locker room with your dong flopping around for over twenty minutes and have made no progress in putting any of your clothes on its time to ask the question: what the fuck are you doing? Did someone steal your pants? Do you remember where your pants are? Do you remember what pants are?

Potentially you could have forgotten your towel and are performing an air dry. Acceptably your nut sac is very wrinkly. So wrinkly, in fact, that the wrinkles of your sac have wrinkles of their own. And if I acknowledge the tenants of string theory then I must accept that within those wrinkles inside wrinkles there are folds. Hidden dimensions even with still more folds. But even the folds of the folds of the wrinkles of the folds of the wrinkles of YOUR FUCKING NUT SAC ARE DRY AT THIS POINT! So take your fucking streak ridden tighty whities and put them the fuck on!

Mother of god.

Ultimately their reason for standing their aimlessly in the nude is actually quite clear. They consider time spent at the gym "working out" as the moment they come through the doors up until they leave. So when the wife asks how their workout was they proudly state they got a rigorous 2 hours in today. Here's the actual breakdown:

1 hour - getting pulled across the pool by the filter like a steaming heap of hair and feces.
0.5 hours - conversing about your colonoscopy. Can a reeking pile of shit really get cancer in their shithole? Once again irony is not the right word to describe the situation but what is? Delightful? Heavenly?
0.5 hours - standing around with your dong flopping around.

But I'm not segregating this guy. He's just like your average YMCA member. After all, all of the above activities do involve blinking.

When I walk out the doors its ten below with blistering winds cutting into my chapped lips. Its too cold to snow yet it does any how. But I could swear I just walked out onto a sandy beach and a warm mist is caressing my face.

I take a wonderfully refreshing deep breath, and go to my car. Until tomorrow...

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Monster.com Listing

Employer: Boston Bruins

Position: Hockey player

Experience: No formal NHL experience required. Some college desirable, but not necessary. High school will be considered if skills are met.

Desired Skills:

Forwards

- ability to skate with the puck through the neutral zone. Dump and chase is getting a little cumbersome.
- ability to take a perfect pass and put it past a goalie that is completely out of position.
- overall winning attitude.
- being a good 'team' player is not necessary at this point as long as you can get your own work done.

Defensemen

- Your name isn't derrick morris nor does your last name rhyme with 'suck.'

Expected Salary: Our average player makes about 650k per goal they actually score so...yeah....

Other desirable skills: The following will be favored upon...

- Bilingual applicants. Especially Russian but also Swedish. If your name ends in '-ov' or '-chuck' we'll take it.
- Your name is Marian Gaborik of Illya Kovalchuck.
- You play for a northeast division team. That includes you Phill Kessel.

Need not apply if:

Your name is Vincent Lecavalier.

Starting Date: ASAP