Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Shepherd One
At the risk of sounding mean (thought I should probably use that preemptive phrase at the beginning of all of my blog posts), does anyone else find it hilarious and rig-goddamn-diculous that the name of the plane that flies the Pope from Point A (Vatican City) to Point B (Anywhere else and vice-versa) has been officially named "Shepherd One"? I swear to god, I was waiting for X-Zibit to come out of the plane and show me all the plasma tvs and Vatican bling they've got on display, but no. Instead I got almost an hour of fucking news commentary.
I'm watching tv quietly on a sunday night after having just finished dinner, when I put on CBS to watch Big Brother (no judgments, please) and I get the view of the Pope's ass ever-so-slowly ascending the stairs to board "Shepherd One". Now, Shepherd One has a big fat airbrushed logo on the side of it that reads 'Alitalia'. Last time I checked that was an actual airline that flew out of italy. There was no crucifix on the wing, no little shepherd decals pasted on the inside of the windows... just a regular plane that happened to hold a lot of robed men with italian accents. Maybe it's because it was Sunday night and the impending doom of Monday wasn't far away, but for christ's sake, let me watch my show, please. I missed the entire thing and had to watch a re-aired version at midnight. It's all well and good that he came to visit and say "God Bless You" to the masses, but did every waking moment need to be televised?
I'm hoping SNL does a skit.
God Bless.
I'm watching tv quietly on a sunday night after having just finished dinner, when I put on CBS to watch Big Brother (no judgments, please) and I get the view of the Pope's ass ever-so-slowly ascending the stairs to board "Shepherd One". Now, Shepherd One has a big fat airbrushed logo on the side of it that reads 'Alitalia'. Last time I checked that was an actual airline that flew out of italy. There was no crucifix on the wing, no little shepherd decals pasted on the inside of the windows... just a regular plane that happened to hold a lot of robed men with italian accents. Maybe it's because it was Sunday night and the impending doom of Monday wasn't far away, but for christ's sake, let me watch my show, please. I missed the entire thing and had to watch a re-aired version at midnight. It's all well and good that he came to visit and say "God Bless You" to the masses, but did every waking moment need to be televised?
I'm hoping SNL does a skit.
God Bless.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Sevs
Just a few fun facts about good old 7-Eleven:
If you're from Long Island, you know you've begged your parents to take you for slurpies, and you've probably had a late night run-in (at some point) with a dirtydog (they call them hotdogs), some burnt coffee, or even one of the pseudo-meat sandwiches. Oh, and we can't forget about the congregation of one or two groups of people - the motorcyclists, or complete fucking losers who use the parking lot as a meeting place, or perhaps to induct new members into their highly elite little club. It is what it is, but thought you all might be interested in a little not-so-well-known info about the establishment:
The Busiest Location Is:
Samutprakarn, Thailand
The Busiest Location in U.S. Is:
East Quogue (Long Island), N.Y.!!!
Fun Facts:
There are over 7,500 7-Eleven stores in North America and 33,700 globally.
7-Eleven's birthday is on July 11 (7-11), and the stores used to operate from 7 a.m. to 11.p.m.
Who? What? Where? Who’s buying the most 7-Eleven stuff? The answer is – the most Slurpee® beverages in the world are purchased in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada; and for the United States, it’s the Greater Detroit Area; hot dogs in Washington, D.C., coffee on Long Island, nachos in Colorado, Big Gulp® drinks in Las Vegas and Utah.
If you're from Long Island, you know you've begged your parents to take you for slurpies, and you've probably had a late night run-in (at some point) with a dirtydog (they call them hotdogs), some burnt coffee, or even one of the pseudo-meat sandwiches. Oh, and we can't forget about the congregation of one or two groups of people - the motorcyclists, or complete fucking losers who use the parking lot as a meeting place, or perhaps to induct new members into their highly elite little club. It is what it is, but thought you all might be interested in a little not-so-well-known info about the establishment:
The Busiest Location Is:
Samutprakarn, Thailand
The Busiest Location in U.S. Is:
East Quogue (Long Island), N.Y.!!!
Fun Facts:
There are over 7,500 7-Eleven stores in North America and 33,700 globally.
7-Eleven's birthday is on July 11 (7-11), and the stores used to operate from 7 a.m. to 11.p.m.
Who? What? Where? Who’s buying the most 7-Eleven stuff? The answer is – the most Slurpee® beverages in the world are purchased in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada; and for the United States, it’s the Greater Detroit Area; hot dogs in Washington, D.C., coffee on Long Island, nachos in Colorado, Big Gulp® drinks in Las Vegas and Utah.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Wheel of Misfortune
I sincerely hate this show. The only real pleasure I get out of it is watching people make asinine mistakes and lose all of their money. Is that evil? Does that make me a bad person? I was laying down in the bedroom relaxing when I heard a loud gasp coming from the living room. It was John, horrified that this man, Scott, had just asked for an "N" after having landed on $3500 on the wheel. To his surprise, there were 4 N's. His $3500 wheel spin was immediately followed by a big fat honkin' BANKRUPT. (Insert gasp here) John comes running in to tell me what happened, and while I could honestly give a shit about Wheel of Fortune, I lept to my feet to see the expression on his face after having just won and lost $14,000 in a matter of 40 seconds. Sadly, I had missed it... and here I am... blogging about my joy in watching someone lose money that really wasn't theirs to begin with. Maybe I'm just bitter and wish it was me that won it. Maybe it's just that I'm exhausted from a long day of dealing with an office full of complete fucking imbeciles. Oh well.... I'm going back to the show. With any luck, Megan (barefoot and desperately in need of some rhinoplasty) will win a little cash. Looks like she could use it.
Death Bus
So there's this regular, or so it seems, MTA bus that makes it way around the corner at 157th Ave. and Cross Bay Blvd. Just about once or twice a month, I catch a glimpse of it on my way out of Blockbuster or CVS or some other irritating store I dread making the weekly pilgrimage to on my weekend off. This bus is never occupied by more than 6 or 7 people... who all look DEAD. Oh, I'm not kidding. They're not just old and lonely. They're not just tired from a long 10-hour stretch working the nightshift... They're dead. No one is under 70 years old. One man might be asleep with his face against the glass, another woman might be hunched over with what seems like her head in her purse searching for something, except her eyes are closed. I've officially named it Death Bus. Though technically, I believe its the Q-Something... Q17? Some regular NYC Transit bus, only occupied by those who've quite obviously crossed over. The bus turns the corner from 157th onto Cross Bay... continues on up and makes a right onto Nassau Pkwy never to be seen again.......
On an otherwise average sunday afternoon, I really get excited to see it. John thinks I'm psychotic, but I'm telling you the truth. He's seen it - he knows what I'm talking about. The MTA has made some sort of deal with the Grim Reaper. Maybe he got lazy and was tired of lugging that heavy fucking scythe everywhere - who knows. Alright... Maybe they're not actually dead, ok, but it is quite remarkable how these people look like every ounce of life has been completely drained out of them and all they're left with is this shell of a body and not much to look forward to except pushing that little red button that signals the next stop..... the fucking afterlife. Although maybe they'll hit up the bakery first. There's this really great italian bakery on Cross Bay Blvd. right next to ACE Hardware. If you ever get a chance, order the Cannoli Cream Pie. Mmmmm good times, but I digress...
Next time any of you are in the area on an otherwise dull Sunday afternoon, check it out. It'll make the trip worth every penny.... just don't get on.
On an otherwise average sunday afternoon, I really get excited to see it. John thinks I'm psychotic, but I'm telling you the truth. He's seen it - he knows what I'm talking about. The MTA has made some sort of deal with the Grim Reaper. Maybe he got lazy and was tired of lugging that heavy fucking scythe everywhere - who knows. Alright... Maybe they're not actually dead, ok, but it is quite remarkable how these people look like every ounce of life has been completely drained out of them and all they're left with is this shell of a body and not much to look forward to except pushing that little red button that signals the next stop..... the fucking afterlife. Although maybe they'll hit up the bakery first. There's this really great italian bakery on Cross Bay Blvd. right next to ACE Hardware. If you ever get a chance, order the Cannoli Cream Pie. Mmmmm good times, but I digress...
Next time any of you are in the area on an otherwise dull Sunday afternoon, check it out. It'll make the trip worth every penny.... just don't get on.
Monday, March 17, 2008
The Pajamafication of Howard Beach
I'm curious...
When and who decided it was ok to fall out of bed and leave the house to run errands in the same stank-ass flannel pajamas you wore to sleep? Personally, I don't have this problem because I sleep naked. (Yes, perhaps too much information for some, but hey - this is my fucking blog) I go to the drug store, bank, pizza place, blockbuster - any of these places on Cross Bay Blvd and you see them. Now I don't mean to sound like I'm some cornerstone of fashion and walk around dictating to everyone exactly what's wrong with the way they look, but... well... C'MON! Put some fucking pants on. Jeans. Shorts. Something. Anything that makes you look like you actually showered this morning and aren't still wallowing in that haze of funk you slept in last night. Lie to me - just put on something, anything. I'm not exactly sure why it aggravates me - it just does. Maybe it's because I took the time and effort to put on actualy clothes that day, so why the hell should I be subjected to looking at your lazy ass who couldn't be bothered to even put shoes on. Have you seen the Slipperpeople? You know, the ones who not only wear PJs in public, but actual slippers. I'm telling you, they need to be quarantined and sent to Staten Island.... and don't get me started with that place.
I've even seen kids (teenagers) go to school like this. I don't get it. Maybe I should donate my old jeans (You know, that ones with the 32 waist, that my fat ass doesn't fit in any more) and leave a bin outside my apartment door. Granted, I'm in a building where there only about 4 tenants under 97 but hell... these people clearly need help.
When and who decided it was ok to fall out of bed and leave the house to run errands in the same stank-ass flannel pajamas you wore to sleep? Personally, I don't have this problem because I sleep naked. (Yes, perhaps too much information for some, but hey - this is my fucking blog) I go to the drug store, bank, pizza place, blockbuster - any of these places on Cross Bay Blvd and you see them. Now I don't mean to sound like I'm some cornerstone of fashion and walk around dictating to everyone exactly what's wrong with the way they look, but... well... C'MON! Put some fucking pants on. Jeans. Shorts. Something. Anything that makes you look like you actually showered this morning and aren't still wallowing in that haze of funk you slept in last night. Lie to me - just put on something, anything. I'm not exactly sure why it aggravates me - it just does. Maybe it's because I took the time and effort to put on actualy clothes that day, so why the hell should I be subjected to looking at your lazy ass who couldn't be bothered to even put shoes on. Have you seen the Slipperpeople? You know, the ones who not only wear PJs in public, but actual slippers. I'm telling you, they need to be quarantined and sent to Staten Island.... and don't get me started with that place.
I've even seen kids (teenagers) go to school like this. I don't get it. Maybe I should donate my old jeans (You know, that ones with the 32 waist, that my fat ass doesn't fit in any more) and leave a bin outside my apartment door. Granted, I'm in a building where there only about 4 tenants under 97 but hell... these people clearly need help.
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