Day 30: Remember The Time...I Was Awesome, And Pretty Cool, And Not A Klutz

I never really thought of myself as a cool person. James Dean is cool. My tattoo artist is cool. I am not. That’s not to say I don’t carry myself lowly. I don’t do that either. Remember the time I was cool, just met these 2 girls, slid down a couple of banisters and split my pants in the process then had to tie my jacket around my waist for the rest of the day?

I was in my freshman year of college, and I was hanging out with two of my friends. We met a couple of girls that night and everything seemed to be going pretty well. I’m usually a pretty funny person, which makes people feel decently comfortable around me.  That’s pretty much how the night went. I’d talk. They’d laugh. Got ‘em.

The end of the night came. Actually the night had been over for a few hours. We parted ways from the girls at around 8am. Thinking pretty highly of myself because I had not had a socially awkward night, I decided to slide down the banisters. 4 of them to be exact. It was impish. Girls like impish. Besides I had never really done it before, and it always looked so cool. I slid down the first one singing the Saved By The Bell theme song. The 2^nd banister down went even more smoothly. The 3^rd one though, curse the 3^rd one, happened to be the bane of my night. My back pocket got caught on the tip of the post, and I, of course, fell.

I stood up, and everyone including myself was laughing pretty hard. Then I stood up and asked, “Why… why do I feel cold!?!” I looked backwards and had noticed that my pants had ripped from my back pocket down to my knee. The girls laughed as did I, but inside I was convinced that this was it. this is what’s going to wind me up as Mayor of the Friendzone. I was right, but we all got pretty close. It turns out that ripping the ass out of my pants more than broke the ice, and the next few months were a world of awesome fun.  Never again, though, will I slide down a banister.

Day 29: If I Ruled Liechtenstein…Everything Would Be Phonetically Spelled

English is one of the more fucked up languages, and it’s one of the most difficult to learn. Just ask anyone that speaks a foreign language. Clearly we’re too far gone to change basic rules to grammar, syntax and phonics. However, in Liechtenstein we can at least ease the pain of learning English by making the words phonetically spelled. Or that is,”fonetically spelled.”

Quite frankly I spell words incorrectly all the time. It’s always just an honest mistake, but in my country it is now forgivable. Color is spelled “color” and not “colour.” Guitar is spelled “gutar.” Light will be “Lite.” The list will obviously go on, but you’ll just have to come for a visit to find the rest of the words.

Furthermore, the letter Q will be completely eliminated. There are very very very few words in which Q is not accompanied by u. That makes a “kw” sound anyway. This goes for the letter X also. Xylophone will now be spelled zylafone. Fix will be spelled fiks. I realize there will be less letters in the alfabet, but that just leaves more room to learn other things by heart like what 615 divided by 13 is or what my favorite colors are.

In Liechtenstein, yes in Liechtenstein, Nu-English is possible. Also visit our website at www.pleasevisitmycountryofliechtensteintolearnmoreaboutourcustoms.com  

Day 28: What Did Batman Say To Robin

Holy Lots Of Rule Breaking But In This Instance It’s Okay Batman!

Always is as dangerous as saying never. In other words all rules have some sort of exception. “Cheese never goes with seafood.” Sure unless you hate lobster mac n cheese. Whether some rules are made to be broken or not, there’s almost always an exception. That’s why this Batman asked Robin this week, “What are the exceptions to these rules?”

My Partner In Crime responds with the following rule breaking allowances:

Never talk to strangers... unless talking to them about whatever it is they're promoting lands you a cool T-shirt or free samples of food.

Don't run with scissors... unless they're the dull, rounded-edge plastic ones found in kindergarten classrooms that can't cut paper much less break through skin. The paper is actually more deadly.

Look both ways before crossing the street... unless you live in New York City in which case no one looks anywhere even though there are cab drivers barreling down the streets, weaving in and out of traffic at 97 miles an hour.

No running near the pool... unless you want to get wet and/or slip and fall right in front of that hot chick in a bikini you've been eyeing.

Do not enter. This is especially true if you're near the tiger or bear exhibit at the zoo. But the exception is if it leads somewhere cool like backstage at a concert or into another theater at the movies.

Don't go swimming right after you eat... unless you want to puke in the vicinity of that same bikini girl, fully ensuring that you have absolutely no chance with her, and making all other swimmers screech "ewwwww" while paddling away from you as fast as they would had they seen a turd on the bottom of the pool.

What goes up, must come down. Yes, whenever a pigeon flies up, poop rains down. There are no exceptions - especially when you're rushing to a job interview.

While all of these are fine instances on when to break these rules, I may have a few more exceptions:

Never Talk To Strangers – unless you want to meet anyone ever. How in the world are we supposed to make friends?!?

Don’t Run With Scissors – unless someone has broken into your house. Then, by all means, run with scissors... towards the intruder... and even throw them at him if you so desire.

Look Both Ways Before Crossing The Street – unless you’re cross-eyed and can see both directions 

anyway and/or have phenomenal peripheral vision. Also unless you're blind. If you're blind though, you're not really looking anywhere.

No Running Near The Pool – unless you have diarrhea...and just ate a taco. The please, please run.

Do Not Enter – unless you are escaping from above intruder because you have just thrown your only weapon at them and missed. They by all means, enter. Enter now.

What Goes Up, Must Come Down – one word. clouds. two more words. Charlie Sheen

Day 27: Never Have I Ever…Driven The Speed Limit Unless Being Followed By A Cop

Ever since I could drive I haven’t really driven the speed limit. Even when I was on probation for collecting a healthy amount of points in a short period of time, I found it difficult to drive the speed limit. Unless I was being followed or thought I was being followed by cop, I was off and running.

For the record I am not an aggressive douche that weaves in and out of lanes without signaling, and I don’t look to screw with people on the road. I certainly don’t look to race. I do not have a fast car, but even when I had Vic (my 6-speed, 200hp, 2 L v-tec rsx type S) I certainly did not look for other cars to race with. I’m just impatient in the car. I categorize myself as a cautious aggressive. I will drive anywhere from 75 – 85 if traffic allows me, but if the opportunity to drive that fast isn’t there, I rarely force it.

The only time I really force the issue is when I drive through NYC. For one thing, no one on the entire island of Manhattan knows how to drive. My goal is to get away from all the cars and stay away from them. Between the stupid Arabs cab drivers, the random slow elderly and/or black people crossing the street, and the Asians that just don’t understand how to drive at all and asshole bike riders, traveling through NYC is comparable to walking through a mine field littered with IEDs when you’re drunk and staring at a shiny red ball and listening to your favorite song.

I’ve tried on numerous occasions to drive the speed limit. 25mph, 55mph, 65mph. I can’t do it. I’ve made conscious efforts to keep under the posted speeds, but 1. I’m just too impatient and 2. It’s just so easy so blast through such slowness. Even when I did try to go 25, I’d be in the fortunate situation to have a tailgater right behind me. This would actually make me drive slower, because yes, dear reader, I’m that guy. I will tap the breaks if you are tailgating me, try my hardest to cut you off if you have just cut me off and honk and stare you down if you act out of line.

You would think that me driving the speed limit would be a good exercise in patience, but the truth is, you get no reward for being a passive driver. You, or at least I, I’ve found, get tailgated, honked at, glared at, cursed at. I attract that kind of attention when I try to follow the rules. It’s nice to not care about all these things, but I’m not one of those people. I’m one of those people that will do 40 in a 25 and 85 on a highway if I can. I’m one of those that will blast off after paying a toll. Never have I ever gone the speed limit if I can help it, and I will continue to not.

Day 26: Shakespeare's High School Poetry...A Not So Oldie But Goodie

Free verse poetry is my absolute favorite form of writing. It is exactly what it sounds like. Free. Free of obvious rhythm, consistent rhyme scheme, of rules. I can emulate how thoughts and emotions come to me. It still needs some work, and I will most likely tweak it probably a lot. It will most likely resemble nothing like this. I'm not sure.

Rooftop In The Dark

I sit here in the dark

On my roof

Notebook on my lap

Pen in my hand.

Comforted to know that no one can see me

No one can find me.

And here I sit

Relaxed,

Hollow,

Feeling okay

Somehow inspirationless,

Left wanting,

Needing to find that thing that’s missing

To fill this void.

The pen touches paper

An idea dies.

And I’m left here

Alone in the dark.

Day 25: A Picture's Worth 1000 Words... The Royal Family - A Portait?

It is indeed reigning Kats and Doggs

Day 24: Stop. Focus. Click...Content

This is a picture of my guitar. It's an Ovation with a green sunburst finish. She was the first guitar I bought with my own money, and I've had her since 2004. I love how it sounds. On more than one occasion, it's made more than just me happy and content. On more than one occasion it's put someone to sleep (in the good, lullaby way). Although this is the first time I've picked it up in about a month, I love playing. 

Day 23: Remember The Time... I Was Good At Basketball

I have always, always, always loved playing basketball. I’ve played for about as long as I’ve been playing the guitar, which is a long time for me. There were many occasions where I’ve spent hours working on one move, whether it would be my cross over, my free throw, my form or being able to shoot with both hands. I have always loved the sound of the basketball hitting nothing but net or watching people’s pre-shot free throw routine. There’s nothing flashy about my game to say the least. I have decent ball handling skills, a quick first step, decent passing skills and eyes and have a good perimeter game. But this one night, it all finally came together in an Al Bundy moment. 

Remember the time I hit the game winning 3-pointer with the clock winding down which advanced us into the semifinals of college intramurals? 4 games in and this one game was not only where I scored my most points, it was the first game I scored any points at all. I finished with 13 points, 4 assists, a few rebounds and a steal or two.

Before this game I’ve never looked to score, but our main 3-point threat decided to really suck that game. My teammate/friend Simon yelled at me to get my head out of my ass and be more aggressive. I listened. I hit a wide open jumper and thought, “Well that wasn’t so bad.”

I soon discovered that I could blow by the guy that was guarding me so I was able to crash the defense a little and find my other teammate/friend Max. We’ve played a lot together throughout college so I just got a feel for where he’d be. He was my favorite target that night.

The game was pretty close and there was a lot of back and forth. The 2^nd to last possession of the game our opponents scored, putting them ahead by 2 points. With 13 seconds left (I remember it was 13 seconds because I said to myself, “13 seconds?!?! That can’t be any kind of good luck!) I ran to the inbound passer and quickly ran the ball up court.

I guess I was quicker than I thought because it was just me, a teammate and a defender under our basket. I ran to the 3 point line and hoisted a shot. Usually I can tell when a shot is going to fall because it just feels right when it leaves the fingers. This one did. we were up 1.

There was enough time for the other team to get off on last shot, but we were able to hold on and win the game. We celebrated our victory by going to the caf and eating Taco Bell/KFC.  We would lose our next game, but that night this game was ours.

Later on in life, I started a company basketball team. Though our team absolutely sucked and we wouldn’t win a single game until the 3^rd season, I would go on to hit 2 more clutch shots with the clock running down that would give us a W. Nobody would really care here though because it didn’t really have anything to do with email marketing. Still a good feeling though. I do love this game.

Day 22: If I Ruled Liechtenstein...I'd Be Able To Find Peace

Being the Duke of an entire country has its share of stress, and consequently, I need to blow off some steam. Sometimes I need to cool off with a drink, sometimes I need to workout, sometimes I just need a rooftop to sit on in the night with or without a little bit of company and other times I need to be left alone. If I Ruled Liechtenstein, I’d be able to do what I needed to find peace.

Near my palace I would build a neighborhood hangout with excellent comfort food and affordable drinks. This gastropub would never be too full or too empty. The energy, like the music, would always be right. I would name it “My Room,” an homage to my favorite place in NYC called Anotherroom. I would have a private booth in the corner near the kitchen and use of a secret pool table in the backroom.

Inside the gates of my home, there would be a full gym with boxing and Muy Thai equipment. Outside there would be some unorthodox training equipment such as a large tractor tire for tire flips and a giant log to just simply chop. A full length basketball court would be off to the side with a pool and hot tub nearby.

Inside my favorite living room, there would be 4 couches that are all incredibly comfortable; 1 L shaped couch with matching ottoman, a love seat that doubles as a recliner, 1 long soft white sofa and another brown sofa for my rooftop for alone time. The rooftop is only for me and maybe another person if I ever decided to take anyone up there.

Sometimes I just don’t know what I need to calm down, but I’m sure if I had any one of these things, I’d be able to cool off that much quicker. And if not, I’d be able to call a friend over to at least hang out with to occupy my time.

Day 21: What Did Batman Say To Robin

Holy Wrong Number Batman! This Calculator Is Not A Phone!

Why are the numbers on a calculator and a phone reversed? 

Some of life’s most complicated questions have the simplest answers. Take the question, “Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar?” The answer is the chicken, which is why he needed to cross the road. He was looking for an escape route. Clearly staying on the same street as the crime would get him caught in a matter of seconds. Who sticks around at the scene of the crime unless you're a serial killer or arsonist? It's Criminology 101.

Another seemingly complex question is, "Why are the numbers on a calculator and a phone reversed?" The answer is simple. Confusion.

When the telephone keypad first came out, it was a marvel of technology. No longer did anyone have to sit an extra 20 seconds for the rotor on a traditional phone. And forget about dialing out of area. What used to take a full minute to dial could now be done in less than 8 seconds; 10 if you didn’t have the phone number memorized. 

Another technological breakthrough was advent of the calculator which replaced the abacus. No one had to deal with that annoying rattling sound or confuse their math instruments with strange Arabian sex toys or Inuit back massagers. Now people simply had to type in numbers and this the equals signs.

Because people were far, far stupider back then, they would simply get confused as to which instrument is which. Sometimes they would pick up a calculator and try to make a phone call. They would of course not get any response. That would not stop them, however, from sending a, angry letter to the phone company asking why their phone is out of service. They would, in turn, receive a reply 2-3 weeks later saying that their phone lines were indeed working. I mean, we’re talking about people who thought deodorant shouldn’t be invented yet, streets don't need to be paved even though it's easier to dribble a basketball on hard ground and wood is clearly a better medium for tooth replacement than veneer.

Since the one phone company was getting inundated with mail, they decided to strike a deal with the calculator council known as C.O.C.K at the time. (Council of Calculators Kentucky) Calculators were now to have their number reversed from telephones. This would end the confusion. In exchange, the phone companies would not include a “Tip Calculator” on their future cellular phones until at least the year 2000. Consequently, this also ended the feud between the Hetfields and the Mccoys because both families were too confused about using either to fight anymore. Calculators and phones – technologies of peace.

My Partner In Crime's Response:

My PICs response is a completely logical one - people are stupid. They were stupid back then to confuse a telephone with a calculator and they're stupid now to confuse venomous snakes with the harmless variety or botox with actual human facial expressions.

 

But the real reason the numbers were switched is as follows: The telephone was invented first, so Alexander Graham Bell had first dibs on how he wanted the numbers placed. Naturally, he chose to put the numbers left to right - the way we read - beginning with the number 1. He was smart enough to invent the telephone; and obviously was smart enough to know where the numbers should logically be placed.

 

The inventor of the calculator, however, was practically the polar opposite of the older, wiser Bell. He was a dorky kid fresh out of MIT whose life experience is contained within the confines of the pages of mathematics textbooks. This kid seriously needed a chick in his life - and for much more than her having to point out to him that it is extremely juvenile to put the numbers of the calculator in reverse because when one types "55378008" and reverses the direction of the calculator (i.e. turns it upside down) the numbers spell "boobless."

 

So why are the numbers on a phone and calculator reversed? Because the phone companies want to deal with as few idiots as possible and because some immature dork was seriously in need of a good lay.

Day 20: Never Have I Ever... And Never Will Again If I Can Help It

Never have I ever used my left hand as my predominant cutting hand, and I never will again if I can help it. 

While I was still in high school, I tried to earn a Left Handed Scholarship. Random fact 4-I'm right handed. I tried writing with my left hand, dribbling a basketball, playing pool, anything I could do to seem naturally left handed. The story ends with me totally getting this scholarship. And by "getting this scholarship" I totally mean, I did not get the scholarship. 

Fast Forward A Lot Of Years And A Few Nights Ago:

I was using poultry sheers with my left hand to cut some things the other night as an experiment. I started thinking, "Man, it would really suck if I slipped and cut my right hand." Then without fail, it happened. I slipped and snapped the scissors shut on my finger. Blood rushed out, and I ran the wound under cold water to clean it out. The pain was a confusing sting combined with soreness. The blood didn't seem to stop as I stood there in shock wondering if I had partially nicked my vein. Luckily I did not. 

The irony of this matter is that I was using my left hand because I thought it would be a good side skill to have in case I cut my right hand. I'd still be able to work effectively. Now I have no choice. Now I have to do things with my left hand. 

Eating was a surprising challenge. I felt like a 2 year old. I had to have my dinner in a bowl, and I had to use a spoon. I was holding my spoon with what I like to call an "Excalibur Grip." I was getting rice everywhere but my mouth. It was falling on my tray, on my shirt and on my lap. I had rice and pieces of food all over my face. It was pretty awesome and hilarious while I sat there in a little bit of pain.

Fuck my life.

Day 19: Shakespeare's High School Poetry...On My Newest Obsession

An acrostic poem is a form of writing in which every line begins with a letter that eventually spells out a word or message. For this week's poem I decided to take my newest obsession, White Collar, as the subject. Neal Caffrey is a conman who worked out a deal to avoid further jail time by working with the FBI as a consultant and confidential informant. He is a world renowned art thief and conman. Since I can't stand being lied to, I find his character fascinating.  I'll stop here since I can probably write an entry entire on him alone.

"Come away with me,"
"On this trip away from the sad parts of your perfect life," he said
"No one will look at you the way I do."
"Me and you against the world," his eyes made you believe.
"And when the time's right, I'll  break every promise and leave you broken," he planned
"No one will lie to you sweetly the way I do," he promised while you fell hopelessly.