Lightning Crashes

One Friday night I was sitting at home watching TGIF when all of a sudden the lights went out. I was all alone. It was 9:45, midway through "Baby Talk"- the Television version of "Look Who's Talking" with Tony Danza as the voice of the baby instead of Bruce Willis. I didn't really like this show, which somehow made the power outage more scary.

After 10 seconds of pure, unadulterated panic, I settled down and gathered my wits. I fumbled my way off the sleeper sofa and crept towards the front door. The moon was partially exposed that night, so I felt that being outside I would be able to see and possibly check the neighbor houses. Sure enough, their power was out.

I sat in the middle of the front lawn and waited for the lights to come back on. They never did.

The Human Condition

When I was a kid, I really wanted a Nintendo. I never got it.

Chasing the Jade Dragon

I chased the dragon last night, the Jade Dragon. The Jade Dragon is a nice old-fashioned Chinese-American restaurant located not more than 2 miles from my nice little home. It's located in an older strip mall, right next to a pet groomer, and a Bank of America.

A kindly, spectacled Chinese man runs the front desk, kind of like an Asian Bob Newhart. The restaurant, which never seems very busy, consists of a modest (yet spacious) dining area, and a dark and seedy lounge hidden behind two velvet-padded swivel doors with nautical circle windows.

I keep a Jade Dragon menu tucked neatly in my kitchen drawer. I never use it, since I have their phone number programmed into my phone, and I always order the same thing. I like having it, though, in the rare event that I want something different, or if I have guests who need to see the menu.

"Hello, Jade Dragon."

"Yeah, hi, I'd like to place an order for pick up."

"OK, go ahead."

"Yeah, I'll take a Chicken Fried Rice, and a Chicken Chop Suey."

"Chicken fried rice..... chicken chop suey.... anything else?"

"Nope, thats it."

"OK, give me 10, 15 minutes."

"Great, thanks!"

Ten to fifteen minutes later I'm driving home. Ten to fifteen minutes after that I'm stuffing my face.

The source of my pain

Behold, my nemesis. Greg Weber, in his drunken splendor. He would make a good medieval tyrant.

suck

"...and he knows better. But I just ignored him and he eventually apologized."

BEEP BEEP BB-BB-BEEB .... BEEP BEEP BB-BB-BEEB

"Hold on a sec..." Lisa said, reaching into her handbag. She pulled out a somewhat stylish cell phone and flipped it open. Casey stared at her anxiously, chewing on her right thumb fingernail. "It's Dalton..." pausing for a second, a grin developed on her face. "Awwwww...."

"What is it?" asked Casey. Lisa violently shoved the phone into Casey's face. Dalton had sent a picture of a gift-wrapped box with a festive bow on top, with the words 'I got a surprise for you' underneath. "Oooh! What do you think it is?""I don't know. It could be anything. It could be tickets to Hawaii, diamond earrings, or maybe even a ring!?" squealed Lisa.

"A ring, really?" asked Casey "I thought you had talked about it and decided to wait at least a year."

"No, I doubt its a ring. But you never know with Dalton. Sometimes he can be so romantic." Lisa was downplaying her excitement. This was the first time Dalton had exhibited any shred of romanticism, so naturally she was expecting something big.

Lisa purposefully waited 1 hour before texting Dalton back. She finished her shopping trip with Casey, and freshened up at Casey's apartment before going home to see what Dalton had in store for her. She borrowed some of Casey's clothes and they even went as far as to have a mini fashion show before she left.

The drive home was excruciating and exhilarating. She was in love with the endorphins that were pulsing through her brain. Her mind was racing, but her car was going under the speed limit. She wasn't in a hurry, she was enjoying herself.

She pulled into the parking garage of her apartment complex and slowly walked towards the gate that led to the elevator. In her mind-altered state of euphoria she decided to take the stairs. She never takes the stairs.

She walked in looking sexy and feeling confident. Dalton was sitting on the couch wearing cut-off sweat pants, a long sleeve t-shirt, and a backwards baseball cap. "Hey babe" he said excitedly. "I got a surprise for ya..."

She stood there dumbfounded, still holding her shopping bag and handbag. Dalton got up quickly and ran down the hallway. Moments later he emerged carrying a golden retriever puppy with a little bow tied around its neck.

Lisa broke up with Dalton two weeks later. Dalton gave the puppy to his Sister.

I don't know much

In 1989, Aaron Neville and Linda Ronstadt met and collaborated on an album. I don't know much.... but I know I loved it.

Ever so gently

"When is lunch?" he asked.

"As soon as your father gets home."

"Why do we have to wait for dad? I'm starving!" he exclaimed.

"Because it's polite, and respectful."

"Can I have a bagel while I wait, at least?"

"OK, but no cream cheese or anything."

"Alright." he said defeatedly, but satisfied.

It was 3:00 when father finally arrived home, wreaking of booze. "Who stole my keys?" he burst. "They were in my pocket five minutes ago!" As he slurred his words his wife's fake smile turned into a fake concerned frown.

"No one took your keys, dear. I'll go check the car. You probably left them in the ignition again." and she hurried out the door.

"Yeah you do that." he mumbled, as he plopped into his favorite bean bag chair.

"OUCH!" he cried. "Who the fuck put this miniloader on my beanbag?" yelled father with an expectant, 'answer-me-now' look on his face.

'Miniloader' was what his 3 year old son had cutely but mistakenly named his toy forklift.

The End

Ugly Truth

It appears that America is not the only superficial country in the world. According to my internet news sources the little Chinese girl who was supposed to sing during the opening ceremonies at the Beijing Olympics was not "good looking" enough to present on the world stage, so the Chinese beautification authority brought in a ringer to lip-sync.

Albeit shocking and heart-wrenching, (especially when you Google the whole thing and see pictures of the little girl) this is hardly a new concept. In 1897 a French playwright named Edmond Rostand wrote his most famous work , "Cyrano de Bergerac". The play tells the story of a man who is conventionally ugly, yet possesses skills of wit and brawn beyond compare. Lacking confidence (in both himself and the women he pines for) he enlists the aid of a handsome, young soldier who can barely string a sentence together to take his place in his attempts at woo. Blah blah blah- fighting, poetry, innuendo- great play, and a great story- so much so that it has been re-told in countless movies and television shows, both directly and indirectly. I think there is even a version starring Jeneane Garafolo. To me she is the living embodiment of a female Cyrano. But I digress.

Before we go ahead and chastise the Chinese for another perceived offense against the World, lets take a moment and reflect upon our own sins:

1) Milli Vanilli
2) The chick from C+C Music Factory
3) Ashlee Simpson

Shame on you China, and shame on me. Shame on everyone. Oh, and one more thing- be careful when you Google for pictures of stuff.

Practical Joke Backfires

Recently my office friend/enemy (frenemy?) Greg Weber has been sabotaging my work area. He started off by leaving threatening post-it notes on my computer monitor. At first they were funny, then they got scary. He soon grew tired of this, and moved on to hiding my personal effects around the office. He hid my spare shoes, he hid my gym shorts, and he also hid my insulin. It got a little too real when I slipped into a diabetic coma and they had to call the paramedics, but we still had a good laugh afterwards. Seeking a fresh start he decided to start tampering with my computer. He unplugged my peripherals and wrote the word "whore" on my monitor with a Permanent Marker.

Today, however, marked a new day of practical joke complexity. I arrived in my cubicle as usual, 7:45AM (I'm an early riser). As I routinely put my frozen bagel in the toaster, hung up my backpack, logged into my computer, and swapped my flip flops for my office shoes I could tell that something was amiss. I knew trouble lay in waiting for me, but I ignored my impulses as I attributed them to hunger. I noticed my chair was not in front of my computer as it usually is, but rather it was facing the left side of my cubicle- over by the stack of Diet Coke cans on my desk. I thought to myself, "that's funny" as I tilted my head and grabbed the back of my chair. Pulling the chair, my surroundings seemed to revolve around me in slow motion when I realized the base of my chair was tied to a Diet Coke can somewhere in the middle of the stack. As my mountain of cans came crashing down into my workspace I felt utterly helpless and vulnerable. "This is what babies feel like when they are born into the world" I reflected.

When the horrific sound of tumbling tin finally ceased, I lifted my ears and heard.... no one. No one was in the office yet. Partially relieved (and severely humbled) I began the long and tedious process of picking up the cans and re-stacking them. I then retrieved my toasted bagel and started checking emails.

Right around 8:24 I heard someone huffing and puffing approaching my cube. I turned around and saw Greg Weber bending over with his hands on his knees, sweating profusely. I could tell he'd been running. I sat there staring at him, saying nothing while he took a few minutes to catch his breath. "How's your morning going?" he said, finally breaking the silence. He was fighting to suppress his smile.

"Fine" I responded. "You're here awfully early."

"I got a bunch of work to do." He crossed his arms and looked around my cubicle. "Hmmm... does your stack of cans look different?"

"I don't know. I can't see any difference. Is there something I can help you with? I'm a very busy man."

After another painfully long silence neither of us could hold back anymore. I fessed up and told him how the cans fell down and he admitted to orchestrating the whole thing. I asked him if he had come in early so he could see the joke unfold and he said yes, but his bus was held up at the river because the bridge had been raised. Normally Greg gets to work around 10. He had to wake up 2 hours early just to try and witness my humiliation. His prank was a success, but his overall plan was a failure.

"So I guess the joke really backfired on you here."

"Yeah I guess it did."

I'm plotting my revenge. Does anyone know where I can get some ether?

Two Wrongs Make a Baby

Mr. X and Ms. Y met at a dance club called "Crush" one Friday night. Ms. Y was dancing with her friends from work when Mr. X sidled over and commenced his courtship on the dance floor. He swiveled and swerved, to and fro, hither and thither, while beads of sweat cooled him way down beneath his undershirt. He was drinking a bud light, but earlier he had taken shots of Tequila that his friend (and business partner) bought him.

Ms. Y was happy because it was Friday and she only had one week of work left before she was scheduled to go to Mexico for a two week vacation. She was wearing a pair of snug hip-hugging jeans that, even though she bought them on sale, cost so much that she came up short on her rent and her roommate had to float her one month. She complimented her denim showpiece with a bejeweled black tank-top and a decorative scarf worn as a belt. She had started off the night with Lemon Drops and now she was drinking Red Bull without any alcohol, to stay awake and alert.

"Do you want to go outside for a cigarette?" She asked, during the brief music break.

"Yeah, sure" he said, even though he didn't smoke. "Let me grab another drink first. You want anything?"

"Rum and Diet" she yelled. "No, wait!" but it was too late. He didn't hear her as he turned to walk towards the bar, and she decided that she would let him get her the cocktail, even though she had made a conscious effort to stop drinking for the night. She thought it would be lame to ask him to get her another Red Bull.

Out on the patio they smoked their cigarettes. She admitted that she didn't want the drink he had bought her, and he admitted that he'd never smoked before. Their candid conversation soon turned into laughing and touching. They exchanged phone numbers, and then took turns listening to each others' ringtones. Once their conversation hinted at becoming stale, she suggested they go back into the bar to find her friends. This was a white lie on her part, as she had already been informed via text message that they had moved on to another bar.

After some more dancing (this time with her hands connected around his neck and his hands plastered to her behind) the bar commenced its close-down sequence. They decided to split a cab. The plan was to drop her off first, but she invited him in.

"...And that's how babies are made."

"Wow. Thanks dad."

"Anytime son. Anytime."

Food Network sucks now

The Food Network used to be one of my safe-havens in the entertainment minefield that is cable television. I enjoyed the classic cooking show- those that follow the basic Julia Child and Frugal Gourmet templates. I loved the Japanese Iron Chef. I particularly enjoyed watching them cook with ingredients I'd never heard of before. I would even enjoy an episode of Unwrapped, in which the slightly annoying Marc Summers would tell me how M&Ms are made.

But now Food Network has caved to the collective will of the 'stupid'. Instead of cooking shows we have the search for the next food network personality. Instead of Iron Chef Japanese its Iron Chef America- with the worst Iron Chefs ever. Cat Cora makes me tingle with disgust. And what about all these cake shows? WHAT THE HELL IS SO INTERESTING ABOUT CAKES????? And its not like they are making interesting new cakes, either. They are taking basic shit cake and shaping it into hot-rods, or giant butterflies. This isn't new- I could go to Safeway right now and get a birthday cake that looks like a giant hamburger. This isn't food, its a mockery. Whoever is responsible should be ashamed of themselves. I just want to bury my head in Giada's cleavage so I don't have to watch anymore.

Summer Love

I have yet to experience Summer Love this year. I am running out of time. If you would like to help me out please give me a shout.

Here is a picture to get you in the mood...


I like ice cream and pillow talk.