Day 92: If I Ruled Liechtenstein... I Got 99 Problems But A Bitch Ain't One

In a conversation with an old friend about relationships, it hit me just how fucked up people turn out to be. We learn how to screw with people one way or another.

That's why "if you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son. I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one." Indeed Jay-Z, indeed. There's nothing like "girl problems" or relationship drama that'll make someone just want to duct tape one of his eye brows, rip the tape off, then eat the tape, then pass it, and then pick up what has passed through your system, then Fedex it (overnight preferably) to the supposed loved one to open the next day.

A wise man once said that a man can cut off your arms, throw them in a river while you're watching, then laugh while while kicking you in the face while exclaiming, "Tadpoles! Tadpoles is the winner!" You'd be armless and bruised, but you'd be alive. A woman will just shit all over your heart.

In Liechtenstein, read my lips. There. Will. Be. No. Shitting. Well I mean you can shit physically. I can't of course outlaw that. You need to shit. Even if you want to shit on someone's heart literally, that's none of my business. I'm not judging. It's your home. (*ahem* Japan)

What I mean is that there will be no mind games. Ever. We will hire the most skilled councelors to improve the quality of home life. Finding "the right person" will also not be as traumatic with the "Honesty Policy."

Now I know what you're saying. If honesty is the best policy, then isn't dishonesty, by logical process of elimination, the 2nd best policy? This may be true, but with our new "Honesty Policy," When someone is going to tell what is considered a major lie or something that is going to severely screw you up in the head, a midget who is adept in people reading, will run up from under a hole, and hit both parties in the face with a tac hammer.

This way, you are not only hurting yourself and the other person emotionally, you are hurting them physcally, in which case the other person can then press charges for assault and battery, spousal abuse, etc. (This will also happen for physical and verbal abuse.) 

This law of course does need some refinement in the language, but the basic structure remains that "I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't him. Hit me!"

Day 91: What Did Batman Say To Robin?

Holy Weird Japanese Metaphor, Batman! There's A Thing That's Like... Something.

Explain this picture I took of my squishy animals at my desk when I got back from a meeting.

Office shenanigans are going to happen in just about any office in their own way. Some call it a rite of passage. Some call it an immature waste of time. Others use it as a way to keep sanity during stressful times. It’s impish. It’s funny. And in some ways it’s needed.

This depicted down below, however, seems to be, to me anyway, two separate scenes. Over to the left is some weird Japanese porn. If you’ve seen Japanese porn, you’ll understand. It’s unique and, more often than not, pretty fuckin gross. This particular one depicts a pig making out with a miniature black bear; that or a freakishly large pig. They are on top of what seems to be a large snow ball, which of course makes sense. It’s a fantasy scene.

The scene to the right would also seems to be a Japanese fantasy porn, but if you thought this, you’d be wrong. Though the red pony is motor boating another black bear, you can see that the bear is standing atop of the world. And yes, she may very well be on top of the world. I mean what woman wouldn’t. A man’s face between your boobs, come on. I can think of no better place to a face. Maybe 3 places, but I’ll go into that later.     

If you look closer, however, you’ll see a white turtle and a car resting on top of the female black bear. This is to represent, that though she is on top of the world being motor boated, she still has much to “bare.” *Nyuck nyuck nyuck. She still has to somehow eat this turtle, which is why the car is on top of it. You must first crush the shell to get to the meat. Make sense? Totally.

 

Day 90: Never Have I Ever...Wanted To Laugh So Hard At A Whining Child

Yup, it sounds mean, but let me explain. My nephew is 6 years old, and my brother-in-law, his mother (my sister), and I are trying to toughen him up a little bit, because he's turning into a bit of a whiner. Usually when kids whine, parents tend to cater to them to a point. In an effort to teach him a little bit about life, how you can't always get what you want, how you can't always win, and how you have to be patient, we're being a little bit tougher on him.

He called himself a "loser" because his mom won at a fun game. He failed to see that although he lost to my sister, he beat me, my cousin and another person. He said, "I quit because I never win!" in a really sad voice to which his dad replied, "Well with that attitude you won't win. You have to be persistent and keep trying, and you'll win. And if you don't win, you'll know you tried your hardest."

He then pointed out how his uncle (that's me) never cares if I win or lose because I have so much fun while I'm playing. (Random fact 1 - I try to make everything fun. Everything. Waiting in line. Food shopping. Walking. It's a good ADD skill when you get as bored as I do.) I mean I'm a hyper competitive person, but I like having fun way more.

The story that I'm referring to, however, is this. My nephew left one of his dive sticks in the deep end of the pool. He was all dressed to go swimming, the sun was out, but his attitude was horrible. He fought with his mom for about 40 minutes about how he didn't want to go swimming, even though he clearly did. He just didn't want to go alone. So me being the awesome uncle I am, ran without any hesitation or without anyone asking, ran to change into mu trunk even though I had just taken a shower. I said, "If I change and have to get the dive stick myself you're not getting back."  

"It's no fair," he replied. My sister asked why. "The water's too cold." It was not. He then said, "Mommy? When you were little, did you ever have to ride a big person ride by yourself?" "No, Logan." "Then why do I have to go into the pool by myself? It's not fair!" By this point he was almost crying, and my sister started counting in that harsh tone. "Don't rush me!!!" he replied very angrily. "It's not fair!" to which I said, "You know what's not fair Bud? Starving kids in Somalia and midgets that can't go on the rides we went on today!" My sister laughed and said, "You know what's not fair Bub? That your uncle went on all those rides with you when he gets motion sick. He took a shower, but changed so you don't have to go swimming alone."

After about 20 minutes of coaxing, he finally went into the pool, which was not cold. I threw him around like a shot put from end to end for about 30 minutes. We then went insides, and my sister and I had a good time re-telling the entire story. Kids, don't you just want to hit them with a bag of oranges?

Day 89: Shakespeare's High School Poetry

Found poetry is a type of poetry created by taking words, phrases, and sometimes whole passages from other sources and reframing them as poetry by making changes in spacing and/or lines (and consequently meaning), or by altering the text by additions and/or deletions. The resulting poem can be defined as either treated: changed in a profound and systematic manner; or untreated: virtually unchanged from the order, syntax and meaning of the original.

I love The Cure. Their songs are definitely nothing you should listen to if you don't want to sully a good mood. Their lyrics are complex and ridden with emotion. I took this week's poetry style and applied it to a song that I always thought would make a great poem. It's a rip off of a song that I cannot name (mostly because the title eludes me right about now), but it's a good one. Due to its nature and deeply personal meaning, you will need the correct user name/password to open this classified file. Good luck, dear reader.

instead i leave you with this video by... not the cure.

Day 88: A Picture's Worth 1000 Words... The New Kansas City Lineup

Too many chiefs. Not enough indians.

Day 87: Stop. Focus. Click... Come On, Irene

It's hard to see but there's a double rainbow before being rocked like a hurricane.

Day 86: Remember The Time...I Played Beer Pong With A 15 Year Old Girl And Was Not On Dateline

My sister's niece Antionette is now 15 years old. She probably just knows me as Char's brother, because that's how she talks to me. It's obvious, and I don't blame her, as the person that used to take care of her when she was born to when she was about 4 or 5. I thought her how to read a little bit, when she said she didn't know how to. She doesn't know me anymore as the person she used to look for.

Unfortunately, because of some awesome family drama, I wasn't able to see her for a few years. Also unfortunate, it was during the time when kids really start to know who people are. Not seeing someone for that long can definitely make you forget about the person almost completely. It sort of makes me a little bit sad because we used to sit and watch Barny together, sleep in her small kid's wading pool in my living, and a bunch of other fun kid stuff. Now she just knows me as, Char's brother. 

Over the weekend, my brother-in-law set up his beer pong table during his son's birthday party. (We play with water. It's more for bragging rights since we're all hyper competitive than it is about drinking.) Antionette was just shooting around because she was bored, so I decided to ask her if she wanted to play. We shot around, laughed, and it was fun. I wanted to post on my Facebook, "Playing beer pong with a 15 year old girl." for laughs, but I'd probably get some sort of arrested. In any case, it was fun while it lasted.

Day 85: If I Ruled Liechtenstein...Beaches Gallore

I love the beach. Maybe it's the sound of the ocean. Maybe I like the feeling of warm sand between my toes. Maybe it reminds me of when I was little and my entire family would stay at my cousin's beach house in Virginia Beach. Whatever it is, I LOVE the beach.

The Jersey Shore is not Virginia Beach. The sand is different, grittier, and it's just more littery. There are cigarette butts, empty bottles, cans, and pieces of bread that stupid people leave behind for the sea gulls. It's not EVERYWHERE, but it's enough to think it's kind of gross. It's also enough to make me a little bit sad that a very fond childhood memory can be tarnished by something as simple as stepping on an empty water bottle.

In Liechtenstein this is not so. There are strict rules to keep our few beaches beautiful and fun. There are trash cans that will be emptied frequently, no smoking will be allowed on the sand, coolers will be allowed, but the trash WILL NEED TO BE DISCARDED IN THE BINS. Heavy fines will be issued for those that ruin my beaches. There are also advanced cleaning machines and operators who are compensated handsomely, because as I've said before, I love the beach. 

Day 84: What Did Batman Say To Robin?

Holy Losers, Batman! Those rejects seem to be having so much more fun than us!

We now know where superheroes come from, and what they do. We also know where super-villians come from and what they do. However, what happens to the 2nd string, the bench warmers, if you will. There has to be a group of heroes that have just missed the cut.

This begs the question: What 5 superheroes just missed the cut because their powers were just a little bit too whack?

Spelling Words Correctly Man has the uncanny ability to spell any word in any language correctly. He uses this power to stump his foes into an intellectual battle. However, after 1 minute his foes no longer care and simply throw things and beat up the poor guy, because this unfortunately if his only super power.

Wonder Kid has the ability to wonder about things. "I wonder why this guy is trying to hit me? Did your mom not give you enough hugs when you were little?" His super human ability to psychoanalyze a situation does nothing for him while he is being chased and/or beat up by a midget.

Speaking of midgets, Small Things Man is just a midget who is mostly just there for comedy relief. He tries to get his foes to laugh so hard that the rest of the team can accomplish their mission. However, his comedy sucks.

Balance Boy has the uncanny ability to keep his balance on just about anything. You literally punch him in the face on a tightrope, and he will be able to stay on it. We know this because that is exactly what some villains did for fun.

Volkswagon Pinata Man has the uncanny ability to absorb  punishment. You can hit him and hit him and hit him and he won't go down. Unfortunately, he can't dish it out either, so when someone tires out, someone else has to finish the job. He's mostly used as a live shield.

Passive Aggressive Girl is simply that, passive aggressive. I'd write about her, but she would probably come over and ignore me when I try to talk to her. 

Day 83: Never Have I Ever... Relived The 90's

I have no internet. I must admit that it does sort of suck, because I've grown accustomed to checking my credit card, bank statements, facebook, and just surfing other random things whenever I please. I do have my phone, but my phone but the internet on it is extremely slow. I also need to post entries for this blog. There are ways around certain things with enough patience, but fuck, I'm on vacation. I need to relax. I NEED to relax. I NEED to not think about the things that I've been thinking. I need to if I want to keep my sanity.

I have a pool, the beach, the boardwalk, and shit, a house filled with my family. My parents, my sister and her husband, my nephew, and random visitors that pop in and out. It's the good kind of distraction from the shitty parts about life, and from the small fact that I don't have internet.

It's kind of amazing how addicted and reliant we are on the web for almost everything. I've felt almost disconnected. I still have a TV and a pretty good phone with internet, IM'ing options, and uhhh also the ability to just call people. A few days after just leaving my phone behind, trying not to check it, not to sit on it, the sun felt even more awesome, the water felt a little more refreshing, the ocean felt a little more soothing.

To these nerds who can't get away from technology, I say, GO OUTSIDE! Drink up some life. It always goes down smooth. That and get out of my way. I'm trying to win an angry bird for my sister.

Day 82: Shakespeare's High School Poetry...A Pretty Bad Scribble About My Day

A list poem is one of the easiest kinds of poems to write because it doesn't require either rhythm or rhyme. But that doesn't mean your students should write anything down helter skelter. Here's a list of elements that makes a list poem a poem instead of just a list: 1) The writer is telling you something--pointing something out--saying, "Look at this," or, "Think about this."
2) There's a beginning and end to it, like in a story.
3) The list is arranged with stylistic consistency and the words are arranged to
create a parallel structure.
Any Day

Wake up in the morning and lay there for a minute.
Is the sun out?
Walk to the bathroom and heat up the shower.
Did I turn the coffee maker on?
Take a shower and stand blandly in front of the mirror.
Do you like what you see?
Begin the day with a painful sigh of hope.
Where are my keys?
Drive. Just drive. For as far and as long as you can.
What are you thinking?
Call up a friend and be let down because you can't find any.
Where is everyone? Anyone?
Eat lunch. Alone.
Should I use my powers of invisibility for good or for evil?
Don't let your mind wander. What ever you do, don't let it.
You know what? You know who? You know where?
Find something, anything to occupy your your mind.
What should I have for dinner? What should I do about my shoe laces?
Where should I drive next? What should I workout today? Why should any of this matter?
Why can't I just? Where did I leave my book? Where is the next gas station? What is this door
I'm closing? Where is this car taking me? What should I surf for next?
It doesn't really matter.
I don't care anymore.

Day 81: A Picture's Worth 1000 Words... WWJD

Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone...and he sure did

Day 80: Stop. Focus. Click... Road Trip (Supposed With Wifi...Not So Much)

Hello Dear Readers,

It's been a minute, and I apologize. Had a small week long road trip down the shore where the house was supposed to have Wifi so I can keep you posted on my short time there. Sadly there was none, but that didn't stop me from writing.

On The Road... Woot Woot (as my now 6 year old nephew says)

The Jersey Shore... Who Woulda Known It Was This Nice (during the day at least)

Day 79: Remember The Time...Food Is Love... And Now I'm Fat

I'm an emotional eater. I also just love to eat. Anything. I eat when I'm happy. I eat when I'm sad. I stress eat, pissed off, or upset. There is no worse time than when I stress eat. Nothing is satiating. Nothing tastes good, yet I can't stop eating.

I'm fat now. Not fat. I honestly don't think I can get fat. I just have a rather unpleasant gut, which is my basic family build. I don't like it. I don't like it at all.

My workout routine has become increasingly, unbearably grueling and I'm sore just about everyday. How in the world p90x can get boring is beyond me, but at least this new regimen is pretty awesome so far. I'm not losing weight. As a matter of fact I'm gaining weight, but hopefully it's not the bad kind. Whatever.

I refuse to diet or change what and how I eat. According to a book I've read (yes I've read a book), if you do everything right, eat all the right foods, exercise, and do everything physically correct for yourself, you only live about 2 weeks longer on average. I say, "Fuck that." I'm just going to enjoy what I'm going to eat and figure out how I'm going to burn it off later. Life's too short to cut things out of your life. So I'll just continue this love/hate relationship with food and myself and cook and eat what I like. So I say, "Fuck you food and fuck you mirror! I'll be seeing you both later!"

Day 78: If I Ruled Liechtenstein...There'd Be A Giant Statue Of Me

That's right folks. There'd be a giant statue of me in the town square. 1. I'm that vain. 2. I want to be remembered, because I'm that vain. 3. It would give people something to throw at 4 times a year.

Everyone needs someone to hate every once in a while. Everyone has some displaced anger they don't know what to do with, and not everyone can afford to have at least 1 padded wall in their home and 1 Muay Thai bag on every floor in the home like I do for random punching and kicking. Building a statue is also logistically cheaper than equipping all of my citizens with a happy face button and a hand gun. (One's for when they get sad, and the other is for when they get really sad.)

Once a quarter for 1 week, my people will get a chance to throw things at my statue instead of taking out all of their displaced anger elsewhere. It is better than going home and yelling at your loved ones, punching each one in the face, and then stabbing them in their sleep. Everyone needs someone to hate every so often and I'd rather have it be me than some innocent rapist trying to cross the street while avoiding being hit by a biker.

Sometimes people need a boss or leader to hate in order for them to produce good work. Others need someone who's caring and nurturing. Furthermore, some people operate better with fear, while others seek the approval of a higher up.

I am firm but fair as a leader, so this would be everyone's chance to take out all of their anger on me. I wouldn't have it any other way. So get your eggs and your tomatoes. Buy your bats and your pitch forks. Get ready to say, "Fuck you, Duke!" because I've been saying it since I took rule of this country, and no one's cared to visit the website to visit my beautiful wonderland. So you can say, "Fuck you," 4 times a year, while I say, "Fuck you" 360 times a year. Fuck away dear citizens.

Day 77: What Did Batman Say To Robin?

Holy Itinerary Batman! I Think I've Developed A Cold Sore After Entering The Paris Hilton Through The Backdoor!

Paris Hilton, oh Paris Hilton. Life's version of New Jersey. You are perhaps one of the most recognizable celebutards. Today's theme is: A Day In The Life Of Paris Hilton.

6:00 am – wake up

6:10 am – remember to open eyes

6:15 am – look at self in mirror

6:45 am – take shower while still looking at self in mirror

7: 45 am – have coffee and breakfast. Make phone calls to personal assistant about how pretty I am.

8:10 am – put on clothes

8:12 am – morning bodily solid extrusion (take a shit)

8:45 am – work out.

8:50 am – finish working out and go to mall.

9:00 am – be waste of space

11:00 am – get vag waxed to keep pretty and figure out what that smell is.

11:30 am – hang at pool, tan, and grab a few drinks

11:45 am – go into pool

11:46 am – wonder why people left pool as soon as I entered. (I think of the standard philosophy is; one I enter the pool, everyone’s got whatever I have from my pretty but most likely bed bug and whatever else ridden vag)

12:00 pm – leave pool and watch people re-enter as the life guards strangely test the water for STDs.

12:30 pm – meet Nicky for “lunch” aka I get to eat a few crackers.

12:32 pm – go home for a nap because it’s been a long day and I’ve done so much productive stuff already *smilez

3:00 pm – after nap brush teeth and make sex tape that no one will ever find or post on the internet.

3:30 pm – gargle with mouth wash and hide sex tape. Have more sex and have a cracker and drink some Gatorade while looking at myself in the mirror.

4:15 pm – after done looking at self in mirror, put on clothes and think about life.

4:17 pm – my brain hurts now.

4:50 pm – put on clothes

6:00 pm – wash vagina (don’t forget to take off pants).

6:45 pm – after vagina finally scrubbed, figure out what that smell is.

8:00 pm – call bff and find dog. Haven’t seen him for about a week.

8:30 pm – found dog in shopping bag.

8:31 pm – call bff. Tell her to buy me new dog. This one’s broken or dead or something. *note – dogs need food also.

8:45 pm – play with new dog and figure out its new name.

9:45 pm – put Big Daddy Diesel (new Chihuahua) in my new bag. *note – do not forget dog. Again.

10:00 pm – talk about sex tape and what I did with bff

10:30 pm – arrive at club and drink face off. Make sure at least 14 people see vagina.

11:30 pm – 72 people have seen vagina

11:33 pm – 92 now

12:00 am – face has been drunken off. I am missing a shoe, holding 3 shoes that are not mine, one of which has vomit that is hopefully mine, and I’m wearing pants that aren’t mine. Getting ready to go to diner.

1:00 am – order late night snack of crackers (not white people)

2:00 am – continue sex tape that no one will ever find or post on the internet for free

3:00 am – get ready for bed.

Day 76: Never Have I Ever… Crop Dusted An Entire Row Of People On the Train

Not so long ago in a universe not all that far away, I had gas. Bad fucking gas. I was lighting it up all day just about. I never really care if I have to let one go. They’re usually quiet unless I choose the opposite, and they rarely stank (that’s right, dear reader, “stank”) unless, of course, I have to take drop a pretty bad deuce.

Never have I ever purposely crop dusted an entire group of people on the train trying to reach the other end of the car. That is until a few days ago. Peaches and beer are two things that make me notoriously gassy. If I’m having either, you can bet I’m dropping a bunch of silent bombs.

On this fateful day, I was waiting for my sister to take the PATH train. I had bought a few peaches from Whole Foods, because I was so parched that even drinking water was not helping. We had finally met, and I knew what was going to happen once the train would make its way towards Newark Penn Station. I would have to let a few go on the train and hope that no one would notice. I was already mentally preparing just when to drop my magical ass burps. Being a NJ Transit pro, I know where the train is the noisiest.

The PATH ride was unexpectedly ass silent. The NJT ride, however, was not. In a moment of weakness, and I would have to say a little bit of revenge against the Indian community for years of BO torture, I let out a test fart (approximately 10-17% of the entire fart to test for smell and sound level). This fateful day though, I released a rushing river that simply could not be contained by any natural means. That’s right folks, the danger of a test fart is that sometimes, just sometimes, you cannot stop what needs to be released.

While walking towards the other end of the car, I had somewhat inadvertently crop dusted the entire isle. I would have to say though, I was quite impressed with the duration, quietness, and odorlessness. I silently laughed on the inside while cursing and simply not caring about the people I have left in the path of my bodily napalm. I simply did not care anymore. There's this saying god awful nerdy saying that I absolutely love. "A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas." Translated: Show them no mercy for you shall receive none. Years of NJT commuting and not once has their BO shown me any kind of relief. This was my way of offering no quarter when I have neither asked for or even received any.

So if you’re sitting on a train, and I’m in the car, beware. You may have just been crop dusted sucka.

Day 75: Shakespeare's High School Poetry... It's Raining, It's Pouring, Who Gives A Shit

Today's style of poem is from Japan. It is a tanka, which is similar to a haiku in subject matter and imagery. The difference is the structure. There are 5 lines in a tanka in which the syllable count is 5, 7, 5, 7, 7. Today was the second time this week I've been caught in the rain. If you know me well, dear reader, there are 2 things about the rain that I love. One of them I have yet to do, but the other is, well, I'm just damn good at getting caught in a downpour without an umbrella. I love it when I have nowhere to be.

 In The Rain

Alone in the rain,

Walking carelessly in streets.

I’m soaked to the bone.

No need for an umbrella.

I stopped caring long ago.