She took off on an airplane this morning to go to a little place called Mexico, ever heard of it? (The friend of mine who reminded me of the “ever heard of it?”-joke was disappointed that he/she did not receive proper credit in last week’s blog. Well, TOO FUCKING BAD! THIS IS MY WORLD! AND NOW, WHENEVER ANYONE THINKS OF THE “EVER HEARD OF IT?” JOKE, THEY WILL THINK OF JIMMYSCHAIR FIRST! ME! ME! ME!) This Mexico trip is a 5 day bachelorette-a-thon where they’re staying in a…(uh oh, I know she told me where they were staying multiple times. And, I definitely was not listening to her when she was telling me)…they’re staying in a place where there’s a beach and stuff. What that means, is that I’m single for the next five days. It’s true, guys. I can do whatever I want because The VP is not here and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have internet access so KEEP YOUR MOUTHS SHUT!
Jk lol omg guys. It’s called a joke! What it really means is that I’ll probably gamble more, eat worse and throw a few pouches in my lip because I’M FREE!!! (There should be another warning label on tobacco tins that reads “Just because you only do this when your wife is out of town, doesn’t mean it’s not still bad for you.”) You see, every time The VP of Ops goes out of town, I go through the same stages in the first 24 hours of “Freedom”:
The “Wow, I can’t wait to do whatever I want when I get back tonight”-stage: This is the most exciting stage of The VP actually leaving. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS! This stage usually occurs right after she leaves and I promised her that I would miss her so much. However, what I’m really thinking when I tell her that I’ll “miss her so much” is “I wonder what I’m gonna have for dinner tonight before getting to watch 5 straight hours of playoff basketball with action on EVERY SINGLE GAME!” The first night alone, you need to be alone–this is not the night to invite your friends over and make them jealous that their significant other isn’t out of town too…that’s for tomorrow. Tonight is for tacos or wings or…no, just tacos or wings with moderate-to-heavy drinking and maybe a vape or dip sesh. Bad boy stuff only.
The “Wait, so I have to take the dog out every time while she’s gone?”-stage: I don’t know why this reality always surprises me when she’s gone, but usually late in the first day of it, I get salty that she’s not flying back to take Belle outside. I’ll get back from work, plop my finely toned and overworked bod on my chair and Belle will start crying. However, now I can’t trick her to “go find mom!” (Such a great dog trick. Stupid dog, Mom’s in the kitchen; Can’t you hear her talking to me?) And then I’ll think to myself “well this is kinda’ bullshit.” Don’t get me wrong, Belle is my numba one pretty gurrrrl, but sometimes Relaxin’ Jimmy just needs her to stop staring while running in place and growling at me. Normally, right about now, is when The VP of Ops will call me to “check in” (I’m not a baby!) and I’ll have to try real super hard not to sound pissy on the phone about having to do EVERYTHING IN THE UNIVERSE!
The “It’s late and I’m really tired, but I need to force a drunk tonight to prove how much fun this vacation is”-stage: End of night one ALWAYS feels like this. I should just go to bed because I’m an adult with a CAREER (ever heard of it?) but that would be admitting defeat to myself. It’s like I can hear 25 year-old, single Jimmy making fun of me for even thinking about going to bed before 10:30. I’m not kidding when I tell you that there is probably going to be some audible pump-up self-talk along the lines of “come on Bud, let’s have a time!” Then I’ll go and pour another little glass of scotch that I don’t need OR really want. BUT WE’RE HAVING FUN, DAMNIT! I’ll try convince myself that I care about watching the Oklahoma City game because I have $8 riding on it before falling asleep in my chair and waking up at 2AM in a “where am I?!?”-panic.
I’ll wake up the next morning to a living room that smells like scotch because I left my half-full glass on the coffee table, and my socks are on the ground and there are taco wrappers on the counter. Guess what, though? Don’t have to clean it up till later.
OUR WORLD:
The Top Ten Foods That Are Gross And Why Does Anyone Eat Them:
Yogurt: The consistency, the sound it makes when you stir it and if you lick the lid then we can’t be friends anymore. I’m serious.
Cauliflower Mashed Potatoes: Fake mashed potatoes and I am not even close to being tricked. They taste like sour mush.
Cottage Cheese: Are people serious with this shit? Can’t be. Must be an elaborate prank.
Grape Nuts Cereal: It’s brown gravel.
Energy Gel/Goo: Distance runners/people who are V serious about working out eat this stuff during workouts and it’s GNARLY GROSS.
Lox: I have never tried them and I will not.
Black-Eyed Peas: All you’re thinking about is how normal peas are way better than these weird things.
Ham Salad: You’re not chicken or tuna salad and you never will be. Stop trying.
Bologna: Too smooth and round. Nope.
Anchovies: I don’t even want to hear that you’re chopped up finely in my favorite caesar dressing.
LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
Ran across this song yesterday and remembered that I really like it. Not a huge fan of the video, so just put this on in the background and don’t watch the video.
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
Gag city.
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
Well, I didn’t gamble on the Blazers and that’s good because I’m starting to feel like I may be jinxing teams again…I did bet on the Cubs and the over last night and the Cardinals won and the over pushed so…WINNER! Tonight, I’m loving a moneyline parlay of NBA games: Cleveland, Utah and Houston. Feels so right.
Today’s edition of “A Time I Made Myself Laugh By Making The VP of Ops Mad or Uncomfortable” is short and swe–nope, it’s actually not sweet at all (tricked you so bad). The VP of Ops gets very uncomfortable when attention is brought to her while in public and so, once I found this out, I, OBVIOUSLY, had to come up with a way to bring attention to her in public. So I began testing out some material when we’d walk to lunch or to the coffee shop or pharmacy, and I’d just yell out phrases like “stop farting!” or “that hurts!” or “I SAID NO!” She could see me take deep inhales as I prepared to yell and would immediately go into wide-eyed, clenched-jaw “don’t you dare”-mode. Can someone just tell her that if she didn’t react like that, that I’d stop doing stuff like this? (Actually don’t because I really really love doing these sorts of things.)
However, yelling out these phrases grew a little tired after a while, so I had to turn the heat up a bit. My solution was to create an alter-ego named “Jimbo”. Basically, Jimbo is the guy at your gym in the stringy tank-top who throws down the dumbbells when he’s done with them. (The VP hates Jimbo so much that I’m sure she’s shaking her head right now.) In case you haven’t met this particular “Jimbo”, he only comes out when The VP and I are in crowded public places. Normally, I’ll slow my walk a little bit to let The VP get ahead. She’ll turn around and see the “Jimbo” pose: me holding my arms out like I just BLASTED my biceps at a workout, so much so that I can no longer straighten my arms. This is when The VP says something like “please don’t”, to which “Jimbo” responds, in his meathead spitting-while-talking way, “Babe! What?”
“Oh Jesus” and The VP will try to speed walk away from what she knows is coming. “Jimbo” will follow like a muscle-bound villain in a horror movie, walking a little too slowly while swaying wildly from side to side. Hard to walk straight when you squat 700 pounds and everyone can’t stop talking about how big your quads are, nah’m sayin’? “Jimbo” loves to yell “Babe! Babe!” and never straighten his huge swollen arms or legs cuz he can’t bro, too sore from the curls and stair master. He always has a duckface or a snarl because he’s a bad boy and he wants you to know it. The VP knows it and DOES. NOT. LIKE. IT. But guess what? That’s the point with “Jimbo”, he doesn’t care what you think…unless you think his arms are small cuz they’re totally not (why else would he be walking like that?) And, honestly, why does The VP get so mad at a guy who really only says like three things: “Babe!” “Babe! Why you mad?!” and “Babe! I’m hungry!” It’s not fair, babe.
“Jimbo” hibernates in the winter because he can’t show off the monster veins in his arms but…the weather will warm. You hear that VP? The weather will warm…and “Jimbo” will return…
OUR WORLD:
I made a mistake yesterday when I stayed home sick and watched a bunch of HBO “Real Sports” episodes. That show takes way too much mental energy to watch and, usually, isn’t the most uplifting or engrossing show. (Hand up, complaining about how watching television requires too much energy is a pretty disgusting admission.) If you have never seen “Real Sports”, it’s basically “60 Minutes” with sports stories and Bryant Gumble dressing, like, actually really cool. He wears cool suits and lowers his glasses to look over notes and then says “so Bernie, how much money can a semi-professional snowboarder realistically expect to make?” The VP of Ops consistently makes “Bryant Gumble is kewt!” comments whenever she watches with me. I didn’t think it bothered me, but the fact that I just wrote that must mean something…
ANYWAY! Regretting my television choices in hindsight, got me to thinking about what shows are best to watch when you’re sick. These are not in order, so just chill out. CHILL OUT!
Catfish: It’s going to be on during the day and you’re going to be all alone so you can watch the shows you’d be embarrassed to watch otherwise. MTV’s “Catfish” is a PERFECT example of this kind of show. A few months back, The VP of Ops went out while I was painfully hungover (a cousin of Jimmy Sick is Jimmy Hangover. I actually prefer being sick cuz it wasn’t my fault). You know the kind of hangovers when you can’t even change the channel? Like, turning your TV on is all you can handle and then whatever’s on is what you’re gonna watch.The TV was on MTV and “Catfish” came on and I was all “I’m not going to like this show because I am a grown man adult who went to film school and has the taste of a—wait…this guy seems nice. This guy deserves love! SHE SOUNDS REAL! IS SHE NOT?!?!” The host guy, Nev, is SUPER likable and you’re always thinking that the person is going to end up being real and that the “potential catfish victim” is going to get to laugh in all his or her friends’ faces for EVER questioning their online romance. “Hey Ramona, remember when you said that Trevor sounded like a fake name?!?! WELL WOULD A FAKE NAME BE ABLE TO DO THIS?!?!” And then Trevor would come in doing a cool dance move like “The Dougie” and Ramona would be embarrassed and feel bad that she doubted her friends’ true love.
The Office: Simply put, this show is going to appear on just about every “best television show to watch when ________”-list that I come out with. It’s my favorite show of all-time. If Michael Scott can’t make you smile in between your kinda-sprints to the bathroom, then you should probably just call 911 cuz you’re in BIG trouble. Now, I will warn you not to watch the “Fun Run” episode if you’re feeling nauseous because seeing Andy’s nipples bleed is unsettling on multiple levels; specifically, the level between your stomach and your butthole. An episode you should make sure to watch if you’re sick, however, is “Phyllis’ Wedding”. Getting to watch Michael drag Phyllis’ Dad’s wheelchair down the aisle is chicken noodle soup.
Family Feud: I’ll always think of Louie (Luis? Louis? Looey?) Anderson as the host of this show, but I have to admit that I don’t hate Steve Harvey as the host now. This game show is perfect mushy food for your mushy brain. Nothing is going to be that funny or absurd, but it’s going to be generally enjoyable and will make the time go by fast. You’ll watch seven episodes in a row like it’s NOTHING and, mark my words, if someone took a spy-cam pic of you midway through episode three, you’d have a weird no-teeth smile on your clammy face. Another great thing about this show is that, in your head, you always do better than these dumb families. AND! You are always the family leader in your own brain. Like, how do they decide who stands closest to Steve? If it’s not the eldest sibling or one of the parents, you know this family has deep-rooted issues that should really only be addressed by licensed professionals. If I wasn’t elected “Family Captain”, I’d pout by raising my eyebrows and shaking my head and making a few “pshhh” noises. And don’t worry, you know I’d tell everyone “I didn’t even care.” I did care, though, and Stever Harvey woulda’ loved my zingers BUT NOOOOOOO! DAD HAD TO BE THE FAMILY CAPTAIN!
Supermarket Sweep/Guy’s Grocery Games: Gameshows that are set in grocery stores are in my wheelhouse and the reason I’m including both of these is because I’m not sure if “Supermarket Sweep” is still on-air. (Well, and cuz they’re both awesome and I normally see a box of saltines on the show and think to myself “hey, I’m allowed to eat all the crackers I want today cuz I’m sick!”) Do you remember that show? There was a host with a side part (I think?) and then people would get to run around a grocery store trying to grab items that would cost the most. Yeah…those are all the details I remember about that show so you know it had to be great. I legitimately do remember really enjoying the mindless joy associated with watching people run through an empty grocery store. Full disclosure, I love grocery shopping. I go through every aisle even if I KNOW FOR A FACT that I’m not getting anything in said aisle. (Except the shampoo aisle. Why is that here? Everyone knows you only get shampoo at Walgreens after telling yourself “I need to get shampoo” for like 4 days). Therefore, my bar for restaurant gameshows is super low. They could probably just have a show where they follow a couple as they walk and bicker down each aisle, and I would watch it. “Guys Grocery Games” is basically “Supermarket Sweep” meets “Chopped” and it has Guy as host so…GET YA DVRs READY Y’ALL!!!
The Dan Patrick Show: Watching a sportsradio show on television is sad UNLESS you’re sick so you can do what you want because people feel bad for you! This is another example of a slow-moving, mildly enjoyable few hours of television that requires minimal brain power. For some reason, since I’ve been a little kid, I have enjoyed watching radio shows on television when I’m sick. It’s almost like you get to see something that you’re not supposed to see–seeing what a radio show LOOKS like? You can’t do that! So what does that make you? That makes you a spy and you’ve always kinda’ wanted to be a spy but were too scared cuz of the guns and, you know, bad guys. But watching a radio show on TV seems like a pretty safe thing to do so LET’S LIVE OUT OUR FANTASIES GUYS!!!
LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
Oh my god, guys…there are full episodes of “Supermarket Sweep” on YouTube.
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
Why was this DOOF ever the host of “Family Feud”?
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
I did not gamble last night on any games in particular. That will probably change tonight, however, because there is NO WAY the Blazers are going down 0-2 at home. Steal your parents car, sell it, and put all the money you got from it on Portland.
My friends and I had a discussion a couple weeks back where we tried to rank the best drinks of the week. Keep in mind, this is not a ranking of the best drinks of your life, like after some crowing achievement or overcoming some adversity, simply the best drinks of a normal boring-ass week. While my friends, nicknamed “Thunder” and “Cash Out”, had differing opinions (that I don’t remember because we were on martini numero tres at this point in the night), I believe that the following list is THE definitive drink of the week ranking….er, list….YOU GET IT!
I’m gonna count down from 5 to 1 because I’m a storyteller who likes to build suspense…
5) Tuesday night, at about 6:41 P.M., the Double IPA you drink as you prepare dinner. Your Monday nightmare is but a distant memory now, and having made it through Tuesday as well means that you’re back in your weekly routine. Tuesday was a long day, but you’re in full-on “weekday work-mode” now, so it’s okay. You got off work, went to the gym and took an extra long run because the Monday workout was more about ridding weekend toxins, than actually improving your health. Tuesday at the gym is about proving to yourself that you’re not the fat piece of shit that your thighs say you are (sitting in a car while wearing jeans that just came out of the drier puts me under the deepest of deep depressions when I look down at my thighs and pray that they don’t burst through my pants. I swear I could hear my thighs screaming for help.) So you ran far enough to sweat through your dirty hat, and you got home in time to make a meal that takes just long enough to enjoy every little sip of the Double IPA that you so rightly earned on the treadmill. It’ll be your only beer of the night because it’s high ABV, but you’ll savor every. single. sip.
4) Sunday morning, at about 10:24 A.M., the Bloody Mary you drink at your favorite comfort-food brunch spot. Sunday mornings can be rough, and this is no exception. You stayed out too late the night before and snuck a cigarette with your friend who smokes when your spouse was busy making fun of you behind your back (or, in my case, you vaped like an absolute fiend because you’ve convinced yourself that vaping is kinda healthy…) Your mouth tastes like desert garbage and all you really want to do is curl up in sweatpants and wait for the Sunday night depression to hit. BUT! You told your kinda-friends two weeks ago that you’d meet for brunch, so you have to shower and wear a shirt that doesn’t have late-night salsa stains on it. Your spouse asks if there’s any Advil left. There is, but there’s only 2 and you’re holding the bottle so you lie and say “no”…then close your bathroom door and pour the last 2 into your hand slow enough that it doesn’t make that bottle-rattle sound and blow your cover. The walk or uber to brunch is all about convincing yourself that you’re “not actually that hungover,” but you are. The Bloody Mary at this place has some fun cheese and meat things that come in it, but you’re kinda scared to order it because alcohol is the devil. You order it, though, because you’re not a NARC and it IS the weekend. You’ll really really enjoy the first half of it as it washes over your hangover and brings you back to the “kinda loopy and feeling not hungover”-phase of being drunk. It’s the last truly enjoyable buzz of the weekend because nighttime is far enough away that you can pretend it’s not coming.
3) Saturday late-afternoon, at about 4:17 P.M., the I.P.A. you have to set the base for the rest of your AGGRESSIVE night. (I’m realizing that there are people reading this who have kids and, I just want to say that I’m sorry that I’m still in the aggressive Saturday night drinking phase of my life. Am I ashamed of it? Slightly. But, by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, I’m so excited about going out that I tuck the shame away in my “I’ll deal with this on Monday”-dresser drawer.) Plan is to meet up with friends at a shitty-in-a-good-way bar a little after 5. You’re ready and your spouse is in the shower, so it’s time to put on some sporting event you don’t really care about and to properly enjoy a good beer before you dive into the “get me whatever you’re getting”bar orders for the rest of the night. Now is the time to use your favorite, most beer-snobby, fancy beer glass. Be sure to pour it slow and make sex noises after your first sip; this is the last time that you’ll be truly enjoying the taste of what you’re drinking for the rest of the night. This beer will also be a quick topic of conversation early on in the night, when you try to prove to your friends that you have taste by talking about a beer they’ve never heard of.
2) Friday lunch, at about 12:21 P.M., the margarita you get with your co-workers at the Mexican restaurant by your office. The morning meetings are over, and you still have to send a few e-mails out, but you’ve effectively made it to the weekend. It’s time for chips and salsa and marg(s) (stick to one marg, guys…once you go for the second in front of co-workers, you’re known as THAT lunch-drunk-guy). Bitching about the job is ALWAYS the topic, and this is the most acceptable time and place for it. Get all the bitching out now because your spouse has heard ENOUGH throughout the week, and if you bring more of that shit into the weekend SHE’S GONNA LOSE IT! (Can we make a cool looking medallion that says “No Work Talk” that we all wear around our necks from Friday night through Sunday night? Feels like a piece of jewelry a hipster would wear and not admit that they got it at Urban Outfitters…”Urban Outfitters? No, I only shop at thrift stores.”) Get ready for a lot of deep exhales and “we made it to Friday”-headshakes. They’re gonna feel good and earned and your co-workers are gonna nod at you overtime you do one because they know…they know…
1) Thursday night, when you’re alone at about 7:02 P.M., the martini that you carefully measure out and make like you’re a bartender whose rent depends on the tip you’ll get from this one drink. This is a special time that was great when you were single and now only happens when your spouse is out of town or out for the night at a work event. Does it mean you don’t love your significant other? I mean, maybe…like, why are you with them? (To the 4 people reading this who are in bad relationships, now is when you look at yourself in the mirror and think about sad stuff…we’ll wait…) You’re not in a relationship crisis, but getting to celebrate heading into Friday by crafting a nice cocktail by yourself is simply exhilarating. There is no need for you to put music on or anything while you do this; the sound of almost-Friday silence is melodic and able to perfectly harmonize with the sounds your shaker makes while chilling your gin martini or old fashioned or some other drink they serve at the restaurant you only go to on your birthday. If you have a dog, they’ll come over and you’ll say something to them like “we did it.” Do you normally take pictures of your meal when you go out to eat? Of course not, those people don’t read this blog. But, maybe you take a picture of this drink you just made. You don’t need to send it out, but there should be a record of it somewhere. Next time you do this, toss a 5 dollar bill on your kitchen counter because you deserve a tip.
*In case insurance people or doctors or my in-laws read this, I would like to state that this is a hypothetical week and does not mean that I imbibe in all of these drinks every week…not, every week…IT’S HYPOTHETICAL! THAT MEANS, LIKE, NOT TOTALLY REAL-LIFE!
MY WORLD:
*Every once in a while, I’m going to need to throw a George Costanza-style rant your way. Today is one of those days. Please indulge the following:
The VP and I had the new “Jersey Shore” show on in the background while she cooked dinner and I looked at my phone like a slob last night. We weren’t really watching, except to comment about JWoww’s newly-mangled face (wrinkles are better than plastic surgery-face) and The Situation being sober and…why is he on the show, then? Anyway, during the show or maybe in a commercial or something (I was busy being an instagram slob, guys!) I heard someone say, “you know, you should really travel more.” What an obnoxious thing to say.
When I heard it, I walked into the kitchen to rant at The VP about how mad it made me. Is there anyone ALIVE who thinks to themselves “I’m glad I don’t travel”? You know what? “I’ve got the next twelve years off and a ton of zeroes in my bank account, but this couch is pretty comfy and I love not knowing anything about life outside this country!” The reason people don’t travel more is because…hmmm….let’s put on our detective hats…oh wait, it’s BECAUSE TRAVELING IS EXPENSIVE! Would you ever tell someone “you know, you should really make more money”? NO, because you’re not trying to set the world record for being-an-asshole. Aside from the ludicrous content of this message, it’s always made worse because the person saying it is thinking they’re some Advice God selflessly gifting wisdom on the uncultured alley rats of society. Get da fuck outta’ here with that shit!
I wish I could say that made me feel better, but I’m still mad that people think saying “you should travel more” is not only acceptable, but needed advice. GOD THAT MAKES ME SO MAD!
LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
Uh oh, is Jimmy suggesting a song that hipsters might like? Giddy up! This is a perfect song to listen to when you’re getting stressed out and wondering if it’s time to cry alone in your car.
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
BuzzFeed can go straight to hell.
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
Good thing I didn’t listen to my advice and bet on Milwaukee over Philly last night. Philly won by seven billion points, if you missed it. It’s time for me to huddle with my crew and figure out NBA playoff futures. At first glance, I don’t hate Cleveland getting +650 to win the title. However, that means I’d have to root for LeBron and that sounds awful to me…The East stinks, though, and once they’re in the ‘ship you never know what kind of injuries Houston or Golden State could be dealing with. Who’s gonna talk me out of this?
I want you to know that I’m writing this section knowing full-well that my Dad will read it and shake his head through the first 3 sentences before leaving his computer in disgust. Revealing your love of Bravo reality television to a father who has arthritis in his hand from all the fights he has been in, isn’t exactly a “welcomed confession.” Nevertheless, I am a brave boy (I am Dad! DAD! I AM!) and I will carry on with my stated mission of GIVING JAX TAYLOR THE CREDIT HE DESERVES!!!!
I don’t remember what season I got into “Vanderpump Rules”, but it was one of the first “I’m gonna be honest here”-moments I had with The VP of Ops. You know when you’re still in the early stages of dating and you’re scared to tell your girlfriend ANYTHING that may cause her to be like “oh wait, this isn’t gonna happen anymore”? The VP and I were nearing the end of that phase when I “let” her watch an ep of “Vanderpump Rules” at my apartment. I pretended like I didn’t care and wasn’t paying attention but then something happened…Jax Taylor walked on screen. Early-Vanderpump Jax was who most stupid bartenders wanted to be in real life…and I was a stupid bartender at this point in my life. He was dude-funny and likable on a show run by guys who just care too much about their hair (Sandoval) and girls who were about as likable as a porcupine pillow. What episode was it? I could lie, but I have no idea. It probably included Stassi yelling “It’s my birthday!”, Sandoval crying and Jax threatening to “take it outside.” About 7 minutes in to the episode, I looked over to the VP and dropped the “I’m gonna be honest here, I’m into this.”
This show works because there is no shortage of HATABLE characters, but there are enough likable and lovable ones to not feel too gross watching an episode. I’m sorry, but whenever I’ve seen a “Real Housewives” show, I can’t get into it because they all seem A BILLION percent awful. A BILLION. Give me degrees! Vanderpump has hatable, kinda’ hatable, kinda’ likable, likable and ONE lovable character for everyone. Let’s go through the categories.
HATABLE: Kristen and Scheana. Case closed. Both of these characters have ZERO redeeming qualities. Kristen’s worst offense? Thinking that she’s really funny because she took like ONE improv class. Not much is worse than a not-funny person inviting you to their improv show, and Kristen didn’t just do that…SHE FOLLOWED UP HER IMPROV SHOW WITH A STAND-UP SET!!! Cringeworthy on level 5 trillion. Aside from making her friends fake-laugh at her lame observations, Kristen is always plotting something kinda’ mean. You know she pitches “storylines” to the producers ALL THE TIME off camera. The only reason she’s still on the show is because she’s good for one solid drink-toss a season. The VP and I say “Oh, fuck off Kristen” at least 6 times an episode.
I would say “don’t even get me started on Scheana!” but I’M FINNA GET STARTED Y’ALL!!! (I literally just pushed myself away from my laptop and took a deep breath. If there was a camera in my apartment, now is when I’d look directly into it and say something like “watch this.”) Again we have a case of an absolute no-talent FORCING “friends” to watch them perform. Remember when Scheana was trying to be a singer? She forced her then-boyfriend, Shay, to produce her album and every time you heard her sing or watched her dance she, somehow, became less attractive in your eyes.
That’s been the story of Scheana. If you didn’t know her at all and saw a picture, you’d be like “yeah, she’s hot.” But every episode you watch of her, she becomes less and less and less attractive. By last night’s episode, I legit thought to myself “Scheana is hideous.” Let’s run through her track record: she forced her producer boyfriend to record her AWFUL “album” that was so bad it drove him to a pill addiction. Then! When he admitted his addiction to her, she was like “yeah, but you can still come out and party with us, just don’t do shots!” Hey idiot, he’s addicted to pills! So she drives that relationship to divorce even though she kept telling everyone “we’re doing so great!” (So she lied to us, which hurts.) Then, she IMMEDIATELY goes into some pseudo-relationship with a condescending DOOF named “Rob” (nice name loser). Rob openly admits to everyone that he doesn’t really like her, but whenever someone mentions this to Scheana “they’re just making up rumors!” If they don’t have a scene in this year’s reunion episode where they show Scheana, Rob talking about how he didn’t love her, spliced in between all the times she talked about how much in love they are, I’m GONNA LOSE IT! If I have to hear one more time about how Rob hung a TV in 7 minutes, I’m gonna go to Los Angeles with a flat screen and time him myself CUZ THERE’S NO FUGGIN’ WAY HE DID THAT! (I’ve never hung a flat screen cuz I’m scared I’ll tear the wall down and break my TV and…is Rob better than me? Hey Rob, you think you’re better than me?!?!)
KINDA HATABLE: Ariana, Lala and Lisa (girls are gonna HATE that I included Lisa in this category). Ariana is like Kristen-lite in that she also thinks she’s a legit comedian, even though she has never made anyone genuinely laugh in the history of her life. She also seems to string Sandoval along in this “I never wanna get married cuz my parents got divorced”-bullshit. Sometimes you mess up cooking dinner. Does that mean you never try cooking again? Sometimes marriages don’t work. I’ll say this, if you’re over the age of 30 and still publicly lamenting your parents divorce, maybe keep it to yourself? You’re an adult now, they tried their best…or not, whatever. Get over it.
Lala infuriates me and The VP loves her which kinda infuriates me more. How can you be Mrs. Female Empowerment when you’re a part-time hostess who leeches off a boyfriend you never name on the show who is, most likely, married? Women who refer to their spouse ONLY as “My Man” need to be put under a microscope cuz something is off on a DEEP level. Oh, and the bottle thing before she goes to sleep? GET DA FUCK OUTTA HERE WITH THAT SHIT! If The VP of Ops got into bed one night sucking on a bottle, I’d drive to my parents house and probably fall asleep in my mother’s arms after sobbing about how “I just didn’t know she was like that.”
And Lisa…I can feel all the women readers getting pissed right now…She’s condescending, ladies. Maybe it’s because I grew up in the restaurant biz, but I kinda think she doesn’t have all that much to do with the success of her restaurants (YEAH, I SAID IT!) She was a child actor turned music video girl turned “restaurant designer”. That’s not a real job. “Restaurant designer”? PUH-LEASE! Have you ever seen her ACTUALLY working in one of the restaurants? No! All she does is go in, walk around pointing out how some minimum-wage worker missed a spot polishing a knife, and ask Jax for a glass of wine then deride him for filling it up too much. WHAT A BOSS! So when she CONSTANTLY reminds everyone around her about her “business prowess” it comes off as insecure. Also, these young adults that she can’t wait to lecture, are the same ones who have MADE the show. So her disappointment or anger with them is probably bullshit, and her “zings” are rarely ACTUALLY funny. The only reason she’s not in the hatable category is because she does a lot of good for dogs.
KINDA’ LIKABLE: Tom Sandoval, Stassi and James Kennedy. Sandoval cries too much and dresses like a WEIRDO, but he seems like a genuinely good dude (if you didn’t tear up when he took care of Schwartz’s brothers, then you’re a robot!) His hair straightener thing is kinda weird, but he’s just trying really hard and that’s not always awful.
Stassi is tough for me because she was pretty rough to watch in the early seasons. She was Queen Mean Girl and had to go through a sort of personality-rehab after she got too big for her britches. Thing is, she’s kinda’ funny sometimes…A few times an episode now, she’ll make The VP laugh REALLY hard and I’ll pretend not to laugh cuz I don’t wanna give The VP the satisfaction, but it was funny. Also, the fact that Stassi is The VP of Ops’ favorite character, makes me want to needle her a little, so I can’t TOTALLY love her. Anytime Stassi is on screen, I can feel The VP’s smile pinging off our walls…a thing I have never been able to produce myself (IF YOU LIKE HER SO MUCH, WHY DON’T YOU JUST FUCKING MARRY HER?!?!)
James Kennedy has been quite the reclamation project this season. Getting rid of Kristen was huge, but his biggest accomplishment in my eyes? Befriending Jax. I simply was not allowed to like him when he was Jax’s sworn enemy (gotta support your brothers.) Now that he’s gotten the Jax seal of approval, Kennedy is okay in my book. He’s good for some belligerent outbursts, but he’s also pretty funny whenever he points out what a total WHACKJOB Kristen is. Did they hook up on that Mexico episode? Yes, and I can’t wait for that to also come out at the Reunion show. Also, the story about him being violently bullied when he was a kid makes the whole “White Kanye”-thing feel endearing. Like, “aw, he’s fake confident now!” Also, James Kennedy is the star of the funniest scene in the show’s history…when he RIPPED from a Fireball handle to the point where everyone got legitimately scared and he responded to their genuine concern with a “Whaaaaaa?!?!” (The Bravo website is being weird about me getting the link to that scene show up in my blog, so here’s the link)
LIKABLE: Tom Schwartz. He may cheat on Katie, but it’s just cuz he’s drunk and not because he’s mean so….basically doesn’t count. His love of Coors Light is awesome because L.A. is all about vodka sodas; and his fear of actually working a job is funny because he never denies that he’s bad at being an adult. How can you not like a dude who has basically said “yeah, I’m not responsible and I should be because I’m over 30, but I’m not so let’s just have some fun”? Also, he’s way better looking AND nicer than Tequila Katie so…like, he should be allowed to cheat every now and then, right? If I was married to Grace from Peaky Blinders I would strike a deal saying it was okay if she cheated on me every 10 weeks. Fair is fair, guys.
LOVABLE: Jax Taylor. He was the cocky cool guy early on, but he was funny enough to overcome what that means. He was also pretty open with his flaws. Yes, he cheats on EVERYONE, but tell me you’re not rooting for him in his next relationship and I will call your parents to tell them that you lie. Cheating on Stassi wasn’t that bad cuz she was supes mean, and…she totally cheated on him at some point too. Doing it with her friend, Kristen, wasn’t the coolest move ever, BUT Kristen is an evil plotting witch-person so it’s not really his fault. (Would you be surprised if Kristen could cast spells? I would not.) He’s the only guy who would actually fight on this show, and he likes sports and he drinks too much. Aside from the incessant cheating, he sounds like most of my friends.
This season, he has become a cautionary tale with a storyline bordering on legitimately sad. Nearing 40 without a stable career or relationship is nightmare-type stuff, and watching Jax face these realities this season has been ROUGH. If you’re watching that and feeling anything aside from some sort of sympathy or empathy, you also probably still burn ants with a magnifying glass. The cheating on Brittany thing really stunk for this Jax boy. It was like watching Tiger Woods come back for the 4th time, thinking he’s past all his bullshit and then grabbing for his back again on the 18th hole at The Masters. It’s a “No! Not again!”-situation, but it’s amazing how you find yourself STILL rooting for him after all the shit he has pulled. If that’s not charisma, I don’t know what is.
And that’s all the words I have for “Vanderpump Rules” today. Please welcome Jax and Co. to the Jimmyschair Reality TV Show Hall of Fame. (My fingers broke a sweat writing that.)
MY WORLD:
I’m gonna be completely honest with ya’ guys, I wrote so much for that “Vanderpump” induction, that I’m TOAST. Today is supposed to be the next edition of a “Time I Made Myself Laugh By Making The VP of Ops Mad or Uncomfortable,” and that section deserves more energy than I currently have. (SOMEBODY GET ME A FUCKING GATORADE!) But guess what that means? You can look forward to that tomorrow. Giddy up!
LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
JAX WILL NOT STAND FOR MEN WHO DISRESPECT WOMEN! Little thing about me, I LOVE pre-barfight threats. They’re just delicious!
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
This was when Lala and James were BOTH hatable…Lala is still there…and will stay there forever if I have anything to say about it! HEY LALA, GUESS WHAT?!?! I’M NOT FEELIN’ YOU EVER! (BURNNNNNNNNN ALERT!!!!)
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
Yesterday was victory lap day. I plan to get back soon, but diving into gambling on baseball is SCARY!
It seems that I’m running into a bit of a traffic jam on jimmyschair. It being Monday, I’m ready to continue the “At Least I Don’t Have To Do That”-Job List–that I started last week. However, I also had delayed the “Vanderpump Rules” induction into the jimmyschair Reality TV Show Hall of Fame. PLANNING JIMMY, TRY IT SOMETIME!!! (Readers must be getting restless. Are they beginning to think about NOT reading this blog?! ARE THEY GONNA GO BACK TO SCROLLING THROUGH FACEBOOK WHILE ON THE TOILET?!?!?) Fear not–people who probably were not fearing cuz they don’t really care! I have decided that today’s “Our World” will be the second edition of the “At Least I Don’t Have To Do That”-Job List. Tomorrow, after what’s sure to be an electric episode tonight, “Vanderpump Rules” heads to the hall of fame.
With snow falling, and me dealing with having had a martini probably a little too late last night, I need this list more than ever (Sunday ‘tini time is fun because you’re playing with fire after 8PM. Sunday “‘Tini Time” Jimmy is undefeated versus Monday “Get Ready for Work” Jimmy. Monday Jimmy is weak and fragile like an old lightbulb.) Last week, meter maids, construction workers and Starbucks barista’s were the jobs that made me feel better about starting the week off. This week, I’ve got some real gems:
–Entry-Level Personal Trainers: There have got to be no less than fifteen thousand trillion people who like working out and watching “American Ninja Warrior” in college and think “I should be a trainer!” I understand thinking that getting paid to work out is a decent gig, and being named to star in the “Rambo” remake probably isn’t in the cards, so becoming a trainer sounds logical. I believe these college kids, like most college kids, are forgetting about what the lower rungs of this profession entail. (How is there not a college course called “entry level jobs are ACTUALLY like this…”?)
Now I don’t know this because I don’t want to look it up or ask someone, but I imagine getting into the personal training game includes passing out resumes at local gyms. Do they include what they lift on their resume? Or, is it all looks based? I’m sure there are certifications that they need, but what differentiates Joey Triceps from Danny Deltoids when they both have the same certifications? I’m thinking it has to be A) Looks B) Looks C) Looks. Anyway, the gyms that these newbies are getting into have to be like the Planet Fitness’s of the world (IF YOU JUDGE, YOU’RE OUT!)
So they get hired either by Planet Fitness or like a suburban community center and they get paid BUPKISS to motivate creepy older people and high school kids to work out harder. The older people are definitely just looking for someone to talk to and look at for the hour of the day they’re outside of their house, and the high school kids are probably being made to go by their shithead parents. Next thing Danny Deltoids knows, he’s spending half his day apologizing to Esther about the treadmill buttons not having larger print. Or, he’s trying to get High School Ryan to stop checking his snapchat but he can’t get too mad about it because Ryan was bullied at school last week. “Hey Ryan, bud? Maybe put the phone down and hop on the elliptical? No, my tone wasn’t aggressive. Actually, is that a new filter? Oh cool bud! You’re doing great!” Then Ryan’s Dad comes in and is all like “why is my son still fat?” and Danny has to lie and not say “cuz he’s a lazy piece of shit.” Ryan’s Dad doesn’t buy any more sessions with you because he doesn’t believe in the “excuse business” and then it’s back to Esther’s bad eyes and wandering hands. If there’s a sequel to “Get Out”, I propose Danny Deltoids play the lead.
-Beer Delivery Drivers: Remember the last huge party you had when you lived with roommates? You guys bought a keg and then realized that you live on the third floor of a walk up…so….SHIT. It probably took you like an hour and a half, using 3 guys to move the keg up one stair at a time. By the time you got it into your dirty, ice-filled bathtub you couldn’t wait to tell your girlfriend how much your hands hurt. Now, imagine adding snow, a pissed off bar owner and rickety stairs to that equation…OH! AND IT’S ALL YOU DO ALL DAY EVERY DAY!
I’ve worked with these dudes and they’re basically superheroes in my eyes. Ever think about how a keg gets to the basement of your favorite dive bar? That staircase that you’d like a harness to just walk down? Yeah, beer delivery drivers finnagel a dolly like friggin’ wizards as they trek down a basically-verticle group of splintering stairs. I worked at a place like this and always had a new, genuine, tears-in-my-eyes apology ready for the driver when he was done delivering the kegs. Would he have just preferred me slipping him a five dollar bill? Doubtful. These apologies were guttural, the type you see at the end of rehab shows when their family comes to visit. “I just want you to know that I’m sorry and I value everything you do for me.”
-Movers: Hear this warning first; once you hire movers, you can never NOT hire movers again. So if you’re still in the post-college “pizza and beers?” phase of moving, then stay there. But, if you’re nearing 30, moving in with a spouse and your friends are no longer impressed by shitty pizza and cheap beer, hiring movers is a GAMECHANGER. The first time I hired movers, I literally filmed them on my phone like a DOUCHE because I was so amazed by what they could do. They had a dude who was like 130lbs, put our couch–OUR FUGGIIN’ COUCH GUYS!–on his back and trucked up the three flights of stairs like it was nothing. UN-FUCKING-BELIEVABLE.
Then, there was the second time I hired movers and they showed up to our apartment, looked around at all of The VP of Ops’ bullshit, and said “oh wow…all of this?” I so badly wanted to be the cool guy and say “nah, I’m lighting all her stuff on fire later cuz boys rule and girls drool, right?!?!” We’d all laugh and high-five and they’d be relieved and I’d probably save money but…ya know…The VP needs her hideous silver spray-painted side tables! Ha ha ha. (Veering off for a second, I dream of throwing like half of our furniture out when the VP is out of town and then convincing her that we got robbed and I was so so scared.)
But the movers don’t get to say they’re not carrying that. AND! They don’t get to show up to a place, realize that first floor is a STEEP first floor, that may as well be a 5th floor, and just turn around to leave. As a mover, aside from the sheer physical exhaustion associated with lugging shit up and down stairs, you have to be terrified every time you get to a place about what “surprises” you’re about to encounter. They’re never going to be happy surprises. More along the lines of “I swear that’s a wine stain on the mattress”-type surprises…and then they have to laugh a little and be like “yeah, wine is that bright red color, and I’m positive it’s not blood!” THEN! At the end of moving the murderers out of their walk-up, they’re given a lukewarm blue Gatorade that the murderers bought and then forgot to put in the refrigerator. “Oh thanks guys, I prefer my gatorade room temperature when it’s 97 degrees outside!”
Who’s feeling better about what they do? MONDAY’S GONNA BE GREAT!
MY WORLD:
Out of the blue, my sister texted our family chain asking for everyone’s favorite line from “Tommy Boy”. If you don’t really know me (like really really know me…and my deepest darkest secrets…) then you may not know that “Tommy Boy” is my all-time favorite movie. Hands down, not-a-joke, it’s number one. So now my day is gonna be kinda ruined because all I’m going to think about are my favorite lines from that movie. From the top of my head, here’s what I’ve got so far (DON’T HOLD ME TO THESE PLEASE! DEAR GOD, PLEASE! I’M TRYING MY BEST!):
“Hm, surprised you didn’t know that.”-Chris Farley to David Spade in the car about the “thin candy shell”.
“These shoes are Italian, they cost more than your life!”-Rob Lowe to Chris Farley after the cow-tipping escapades.
“I can put six packs of be–soda in here!”-Chris Farley freaking out to his dad about the mini-fridge in his office.
“Richard? Who’s your favorite little rascal? Mine’s SPANKY!”-Chris Farley after walking in on David Spade during that special time.
“I’ll just have a sugar packet or two.”-Chris Farley’s restaurant order after they refuse to make wings for him.
I’m going to need to work on this harder. I promise to report back in good time.
LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
How I feel most Mondays…
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
I was happy Patrick Reed won yesterday, but his shirt was all kinds of AWFUL…
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
So you saw the 5 guys who I picked in the blog last Thursday for the Masters…what you didn’t see is that I had $4.29 left in my account and my friend told me to bet on Jason Dufner and Patrick Reed. Thing is…I ONLY BET ON PATRICK REED! BOOM BABY! $4.29 last second bet on Reed scored me like $250. I am so stinking rich right now, guys. Does he have a punchable face? Yes. But, I wanted to kiss that face like a romance guy when he made that putt on 18. Remember when you all thought I was definitely not back? UHHHHH…..WRONGO, LOSERS! I. AM. BACK.
Yesterday, I went to Rockford, Illinois on a work trip and got super excited about getting to stay in a hotel. The Rockford Holiday Inn may not do it for you, but something about not having to clean up after myself and watching cable that I don’t have to pay for, turns me into little-kid excited. (When I walked into my room I joked to myself that I should jump on the bed. I didn’t because I was worried I’d break it and then feel fat and sad.) This little trip paired with seeing a bunch social media pics of people I know on their spring break trips has gotten me (REALLY GODDAMN JEALOUS) thinking about what makes a road trip is AWESOME. Holiday Inn + Vacay Pics = Me thinking about road trips.
Lets call this a two-day road trip, where I’d have to drive like 10ish hours and stay at a hotel (Holiday Inn?!?!) before finishing the drive the next day. Here’s how that day progresses for me and why I think I’ve discovered that I kinda love road trips…
-Waking up super early to get going on something fun, and not work, feels great.
I’m kind of a pain in the ass the morning we leave. I will have packed the night before, and The VP will still be finishing her seemingly endless packing the morning of. I’ll get out of bed super early, brew coffee, walk the dog, and then act like an excited puppy myself–wagging my tail while waiting for The VP of Ops to join me outside! She is normally not as thrilled and, for some reason, doesn’t enjoy the 14 times I ask her “can we go already?” We need to get on the road so we can get fast food because THAT is when vacation mode really begins…
-Going through the McDonald’s drive-thru for breakfast.
I genuinely think I enjoy the road-trip kickoff sausage biscuit with egg and hash brown from McDonald’s, eaten while driving and cussing at idiot drivers who don’t realize I’M TRYING TO ENJOY MY FUCKING BREAKFAST, more than I enjoy a fancy steak dinner at a fancy steak restaurant. I’m not exaggerating. Aside from how perfect McDonald’s biscuits and hash brows taste (it’s a culinary masterpiece), I don’t have to sweat the beating it put on my bank account AND I get to eat it on my way to MORE. FUN. STUFF. Fancy steak dinners always include me looking at the prices, telling the VP of Ops to not worry about the prices, and then me silently panicking in my head about how many serving shifts I’m going to have to pick up to pay for this fucking steak. Now, I will say that The VP of Ops has talked me into Burger King breakfast before and it was pretty pretty go—nope, don’t want to hear it? Yeah, I’ll leave that alone. McDonald’s breakfast for life. Should we start a hashtag? #McDsBFast4Lyfe (that has legs).
-Listening to Howard Stern interview a celebrity for a couple hours.
Normally, when I have Howard on in my car (satellite radio, yeah I have it, calm down) I’m kinda’ listening to him and kinda’ trying not to freak out about how behind I feel at work. But on road trips? I am full-on focused listening and, breaking news, Howard Stern is hilarious. There are times I get so into his interviews that I’ll look around after like 45 minutes of driving and have the “Oh my god, how did we get here?” momentary-freak-out. I’m thankful there isn’t a law against driving while zoned out (DWZO) because I’m sure traffic cops can see the blank look on my dumb face when I’m listening to Howard.
-Talking about what fast food place we’re going to get lunch at for at least 37 minutes.
You’re gonna need lunch on the early side because you need strength to drive (“strength” to sit and gently push a pedal ONE foot? Uh…yeah!) The VP of Ops is an absolute connoisseur of fast-food restaurants, and gets excited anytime we’re around one we can’t get in Chicago. On our first few road trips together, I’d buy into her excitement and go along with her plan of getting ketchup from “Whattaburger” and mozza sticks from “Sonic” and chicken from “Zaxby’s” and…by our third road trip I realized that The VP’s ADHD is triggered by those big fast-food signs you see on the highway. Now, we discuss our available options the way I imagine CEOs discuss the merits of different healthcare plans for their employees. These reasoned discussions will come to an abrupt end when I get frustrated that The VP is not a natural-born decision-maker, and MY DRIVING STRENGTH IS DEPLETING!!! So we’ll probably get in a kinda-real quick fight as I jerk the car off the exit towards Chic-Fil-A or “whatever, I’m staving now, Erin.”
-Eating IN the fast food restaurant for lunch.
Eating inside a fast food restaurant kinda feels like a treat because you’re used to eating in your car. Actually getting to not fear for your life (LOOK AT THE ROAD!) while enjoying these high-caloric treats adds another dimension to them. The VP and I will try to chuckle off the mini-fight we just had, but we’ll both still be kinda annoyed with the other until one of us comes upon a V funny Instagram video to cut the tension. Boom! Back to enjoying junk food and thinking about how much fun this trip is gonna be. Go through your Chic-Fil-A chicken nugget sauce too fast? Don’t even worry, we’re HERE! YOU CAN JUST GO TO THE COUNTER AND GET MORE SAUCE!
-The After-Lunch Drive
This can be a real slog. Kinda’ shleepy cuz you got up super early and have proceeded to MASH carbs all day, so now you’re crashing. You also don’t have another fun meal in your immediate future, so food-excitement-adrenaline ain’t coming to your rescue now. This is the perfect time for good-times music. I actually prefer to listen to Top 40 stations around this time because the music is usually upbeat, and I wanna know what young people are listening to so I can talk to them and sound cool. (That SZA lady has some really jazzy tunes, am I right broskis?!?!) The VP will probably try to put on The Beatles or some other very respected music that I know I’m supposed to love, but like…I just wanna listen to the rap guy who’s kinda scary (21 Savage).
As we transition into the later afternoon, it’s podcast time. This is when we’re going to listen to something that will make us feel smart, and we’ll probably text some friends IMMEDIATELY to let them know that we like to listen to culture-y stuff. (Is texting and driving dangerous? Yes. But, it’s also dangerous not to remind your friends that you’re smart.) As we near dusk, it’s time to stop at a gas station for snacks. SNACKS! GUYS! SNACKS!
-Snack and Gas Stop
You probably don’t really need gas, and you’re not that hungry, but that gas station candy isn’t gonna eat itself. Wanna know my trick? I’ll buy a water cuz hydration is healthy and I’m saving my tummy room for peanut M&Ms and Pringles. Driving strength, guys. Why Pringles? Because A) once you pop you can’t stop, and B) the pop can is perfect for between your legs while driving–like, the Pringles can engineers had to be thinking of drivers when coming up with that design. The peanut M&Ms are a treat because it’s vacation and vacation is about TREATS!
The VP goes full-on trash mode at this point. She’ll tell me she’s “not really that hungry” because she knows that I’ll tell her just to “get something in case”….like, in case we’re stranded in a ditch later and nearing starvation (it could happen!) The VP knew she wanted a Slim Jim all along, but she just needed me to give her that little “what if we never see food again?”-nudge. I got you babe. She’ll probably get a tastier drink than me, like a blue Gatorade, that I’ll drink more of it than her because water is lame-o and the Gatorade cals don’t count for me cuz I didn’t buy it!
-Darkness falls and my eyes stink.
Once, after driving all day into night, The VP asked if I was okay when she saw me squinting and leaning forward over the steering wheel. “I’m not kidding, but it looks like there is a dinosaur chomping down on the road up ahead.” Evidently, I am NOT a good nighttime driver. In an effort to avoid the common bridge/tyrannosaurus rex mix-up, we plan ahead now. Once it turns dark out, I’ve got like an hour left TOPS before we’re pulling into that Holiday Inn. Why doesn’t The VP take over driving at this point? Because I’m insecure in my masculinity sometimes and don’t want to be shown up by my wittle wife who is definitely a better road trip driver than me but…NO! IT’S HOTEL TIME!
-Hotel and Dinner Time
We pull into a random Holiday Inn and they’re serving nighttime cookies! We like to drop our bags and take a quick breather from all the…uh, sitting…that we’ve done all day. I’ll probably look at some hotel brochure and get excited about the continental breakfast tomorrow morning. OR! If they have a pool, I’ll tell Erin that we should go swimming even though we definitely won’t. We’ll probably sit in silence to text and go through our phones for about 24 minutes. The room fills with the occasional chuckle, “what?”, “ah nothing,” as we properly decompress. Then we’ll explore our surroundings in search of classier dinner fare. (Chili’s? Yeah, Chili’s.) The VP will ask me if she should change before we go out, and I’ll give her the “Uh, we’re going to Chili’s and will never see anyone we see tonight ever again”-look. She’ll give a sly, yet thankful, smile (she knew that answer was coming) and we’re off.
This road trip is off to a great start.
OUR WORLD:
The Top Ten Best Things About a Hotel:
The pool. (Even if you don’t swim in it, having to option to swim is invigorating.)
Not having to clean up after yourself.
The mini-fridge.
Hotel-workers treating you like royalty.
The free continental breakfast (it’s not that good, but I appreciate the effort and I convince myself EVERY TIME that it’ll be good.)
The little coffee machine in your room. (It looks new!)
Free soap.
Getting excited about watching cable shows that you haven’t watched in a while because they don’t have Netflix. (Catching the random “Friends” episode on TBS is a RUSH!)
The business center. (I’m not going to use it, but I like knowing that I could take care of some business like a real adult if I wanted to.)
Leaving and not telling anyone. (I don’t check out. I just leave and feel like I’m on the lamb.)
LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
Indoor hotel pools are the best.
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
Uh, Red Roof Inn? Get the fuck outta here.
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
Listen guys, when you’re alone at a Holiday Inn in Rockford, you NEED to gamble on the Celtics-Jazz game. Am I happy that I bet on the first half over of a regular season NBA game? Not especially, but I’m in this for the long haul. Took about $30 in losses and it would’ve been worse if I didn’t BANG that second half over bet, so kinda’ feels like a win? Yep, feels like a win.
Hungover, poor and outrageously jealous of my friends with credit card points was me as a restaurant worker. Squeezing that hostility into t-shirts that were 1.5 sizes too small (had to show off the guns) and you had what those in the biz like to call a “problem”. Looking back at my time as a restaurant worker, it’s amazing there was never a choking incident involving me either as the aggressor or victim. You know what my favorite thing to do was? Tell customers “no”. I’m not even kidding. Like, if someone asked “do you have a tomato vodka pasta sauce?” I would just say “no,” and just let the waiting-for-an-alternative-suggestion-silence devour their whole world. I could feel them squirm waiting for me to break the silence, but THAT. WAS. NOT. COMING. It was a Buffalo Bill type tendency that makes me worry about what else I’m capable of…madness…yes, madness….WHAT A FUCKING DICK I WAS! (You still are Jimmy and everyone will find out and stop being friends with you and you’ll go crawling back to that restaurant begging to sweep the floors. From, The Woman you abandoned in awkward silence until her brain melted from the stress of it all, just because it felt good to respond “no” when she asked if you “had any gluten free homemade noodles?”)
These confessions will sound even more insane after I tell you that…I GOT PROMOTED MULTIPLE TIMES IN MULTIPLE RESTAURANTS!!! That’s right, the lunatic in the tiny tee who got off on disappointing customers without explanation MOVED. UP. THE LADDER. (This is the part where my head tells me that I should remind the readers that I’m a Sensei in the art of exaggeration but…I’m not really exaggerati-SHIT!) You want to know the real reason I’m telling you my deepest darkest restaurant secrets, though? A) Because I don’t work there anymore and like…{valley-girl voice} whatever! B) Because I wanted to establish a common ground with restaurant workers before I give my…—
“WHAT NOT TO DO” FOR RESTAURANT WORKERS
-When you see a customer trying to get your attention out of the corner of your eye, don’t pretend you didn’t see them and then act busier than you are.
Again, a go-to move for Tiny Tee Jimmy (The VP’s friend made fun of my small restaurant shirts when we started dating and I can never shake it now). This move is absolutely infuriating because WE KNOW YOU CAN SEE US! How many times have you sat at a cleared table waiting to get the check only to have your server walk past you a billion times pretending not to see your “excuse me, sir”-face? Or, how about the times you realize you don’t have a salt shaker on your table only after your food is dropped? Sure, the dish may not need salt, but you gotta dump some on it just for ritual’s sake and THE SERVER KEEPS IGNORING MY FINGER GUN/PINKY UP/AHEM-MISS? MOVE!!!! GODDAMNIT! I think servers do this because they’re procrastinators hoping that work will just disappear.
-Don’t shrug your shoulders when people ask you which dish is better.
Look, even if you don’t have a strong opinion either way, just lie to me and tell me that the pesto is WAY better than the alfredo (cuz it always is…lay off fatsos, alfredo is cream with salt.) I’ll never understand why some servers get awkwardly shy when asked to help a customer decide between two dishes. Some act like there are chickens and cows with guns waiting for them in the kitchen; “I heard you say the chicken picatta was better than the strip steak. So now I get to watch my wife get ripped from my arms and thrown onto a searing-hot pan,” said Chicken Charlie, as he turned his glock from Server Sally back unto himself, “I’m on my way sweetie….”
Unless you’re faced with cleaning widower chicken brains off your kitchen’s walls, maybe just give the customer a teeny tiny bit more confidence in their dinner order. Also, if you give no answer to a customer looking for an opinion, all you’re doing is creating an awkward silence at the table and, therefore, causing you to spend more time dealing with people you don’t really want to be dealing with in the first place. When I was a server, I would sometimes tell people I didn’t like items just to make them think I was trustworthy. They’d ask, “how’s the shrimp?” and I would tell them “it’s not my favorite” even though it sometimes was. Why? Because when you give someone an unexpectedly honest seeming answer, they IMMEDIATELY think they can trust you…(and now I feel like a sociopath for admitting I think that…)
-Don’t get defensive when your table asks why their food is taking longer than it should.
This is simple if you get ahead of the issue. You know if food is taking too long to come out. What is so hard about going up to a table and saying “hey guys, I’m sorry your food has been taking a while, but our kitchen is backed up and now I’m gonna tell you a lie about our computer system fucking things up because we all kinda’ hate technology.”? You immediately get in front of the awkward interaction that begins with a table asking “what is taking so long?” Even if it is your fault, blame it on some asshole in the kitchen that the table is never gonna meet. Odds are that the table will appreciate how forthright you just were and will feel bad that you have to deal with Donnie’s kitchen bullshit.
Or, you can get defensive when a guy asks you why the turkey sandwich and egg dish that he and his wife ordered is taking over 40 minutes (weird…the exact thing happened to The VP of Ops and I this past Sunday…) Then you’ll get a–dammit, you’ll still get a 15% tip because I felt guilty but you totally didn’t deserve even 15% and I want you (yeah you, the professional eye-roller) to know that I’m normally a 25% tipper. So, enjoy being 10% poorer than you should be (that’s how math works, jerk.)
-Don’t pour my drink into a glass right in front of me like I don’t know how to do it.
Does anyone enjoy watching a server approach your table, set down a glass, open your beer for you and then slowly, awkwardly, incorrectly pour it into said glass all while you just sit there like a fat, useless tub of lard? You probably look at your phone to cut the awkwardness, don’t you? I’ve taken to just telling them that I can do it to avoid the ensuing awkwardness. Let me say this; if you enjoy having a beer opened and poured for you while you do nothing, then your parents probably resent the person you have become.
Bring the beer and open it. Leave the pouring to me. I’M AN ADULT WHO HATES FEELING USELESS EVEN THOUGH I KINDA’ AM SOMETIMES BUT NOT WHEN IT COMES TO POURING DRINKS IN GLASSES!
–Don’t have Law & Order SVU on the TVs without the sound when the city you’re in has a team in the playoffs playing RIGHT NOW!
If you’re a Law & Order SVU-themed bar, then fine (I can hear The VP of Ops making borderline-sexual grunting noises at the thought of this). But, the only people watching TVs in bars are sports fans, so why tease them? I do think that hipster servers probably love watching sportos squirm as they pretend not to know how a television remote works and ask “wait, what channel did you say?” for the ninth time. Part of me respects such deviousness, but most of me is a sporto who JUST GIVE ME THE GODDAMN REMOTE!
MY WORLD:
My worst restaurant experience as a customer happened when I lived in Los Angeles (golden tan, killer bod, hot babes and blow wherever I went. You know? That Los Angeles). I was on a date with A REAL LIFE LADY (Pre-VP of Ops. This girl was more “VP of Not Being Able To Contribute To The Conversation”) My plan for the date was a little out there, dinner and a movie, but I’m a risk taker, guys. We got to dinner, ordered and began having very forced, stilted conversations that were not made better with my penchant for drinking super fast when I get nervous. I was nervous and…needed to get drunk so fast please be drunk now so I don’t have to deal with my feelings faster faster faster!!!!
Next thing I know, it’s like 45 minutes after we ordered our entrees and the food still isn’t there. Am I eight drinks deep? Yes, but there was no drink limit printed on the menu so looks like I’m not breaking any rules and you should shut up. Besides, Miss No-Conversation-Skills wasn’t interesting when I was sober, so what was I really missing?
Not wanting to waste our tickets for Russell Crowe and his “Am-I-Officially-Too-Fat-To-Be-A-Star”face in “Robin Hood”, I asked our server if our food was getting close. “I don’t know man,” was not the response I was hoping for, but it was the response I got. Even my drunk brain was like “whoa, that was rough.” The restaurant was DEAD so I knew the kitchen wasn’t backed up, but I didn’t wanna introduce Miss ZERO-PERSONALITY to Angry Jimmy on our first date. So I sat quiet, kinda bit the inside of my lip and prayed that, that dickhead server just gave me a reason…JUST GIMME A REASON!
Another 20 minutes and nothing. I hadn’t seen our server for a while so I went up to the host stand to ask for a manager. YEAH, I DID THAT. When the manager arrived I told him that we had waited for over an hour and blah blah blah we needed to go now. So he asked me to pay for our drinks…Lame move, Mr. Manager. Waiting over an hour to get no food and you want me to–okay, okay, we’re not getting angry. I repeat! We (as in me) are going to prove to Miss I-Already-Can’t-Wait-Till-This-Is-Over that WE are in control of our emotions even in the most adverse of conditions. Did I tell the manager that I didn’t appreciate the service that night? I did. Did he shake his head like a condescending bitch and apologize “if you feel that way”? He did. We are still in control of our emotions.
Then we left the restaurant to walk to the movie theater when I saw our server, back in the restaurant, making purposeful eye-contact with me and proceeding to wave at me as I left. It was one of those “go fuck yourself” waves and that’s when I politely told The VP of You’re About To Be Embarrassed By Me that I would be right back.
I re-entered the restaurant making a BEE-LINE for the kitchen where I saw the server giving me the “go fuck yourself” wave. Manager Douche Canoe and the bartender got in my way but not before I got to yell “come outside and say goodbye to me!” to my new server friend. It was a solid line and I am forever proud I got it out. The fact that such a cool line was lost in me cussing out the manager and bartender is something I wish not to rehash.
I used to legitimately wonder why that server was such a dick to me that night. Did he used to date the girl I was out with? Seemed unlikely that any other human would be duped into going out with such a DUD, so I’m gonna cross that off the list. Did I go to High School with him and he was offended I didn’t recognize him? Probably not because I was a total loner back then, but a real sweetheart who most people secretly felt bad for (right?) Maybe he was jealous that I was pulling off the two-earring look that he always dreamed of going for but never had the nerve to commit to? Probably. Or, it was just because he was a server who hated being reminded of the fact that he had to work when most people were on off-time. And now I totally understand and feel bad for trying to intimidate him. (I am also thankful that he did not come and say goodbye to me outside because that would have been scary!)
LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
Fat Russell Crowe in the middle of a walking work-out is a personal fave.
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
When you’re in the middle of watching an awesome YouTube video on your iPhone and, all of a sudden, the video stops because your phone has to warn you that you only have 20% battery life remaining. THANKS FOR RUINING THE MOOD, APPLE!
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
Another day, another dollar not won. Starting to feel like I’m giving money away by NOT gambling. I will be alone in a Rockford, Illinois hotel tonight and that means one thing…gambling on random NBA games RIGHT before they start. No point in looking at the lines now.
I got caught trying to sneak into a gym yesterday. You see, sometimes when I have a work event at night, I’ll find a gym in the town of my event to get a good PUMP (treadmill run) in before. Being the Frugal Fred that I am (cheapass), I have found a couple of “community fitness centers” that don’t have the most attentive front-desk staff.
The particular spot I went in yesterday, I had been to multiple times over the past year. Normally, there’s an old guy at the front desk not paying attention. So, instead of paying the $11 one-day fee, I walk like a BAWSS straight past the front desk and into the locker room. The old guy probably just doesn’t care enough to stop me, but I’ve convinced myself that he admires a man who walks with purpose. That’s me! A man who walks with purpose…so he doesn’t have to pay $11.
Yesterday, however, there was a young girl at the front desk. No matter, my BAWSS walk (Rick Ross voice BAWSS!) would dissuade her from stopping me. Deep breath, long, border-line angry strides and I’m fre—“Excuse me, sir!” Can’t be talking to me….”SIR! EXCUSE ME?!” (cue my “uh-oh” face). I turned around like she had just snapped me out of a dream. “Oh, yeah? Hey?”
“Can I scan you in?”
“Oh…uh….I mean…”
This is where I pretended that my parents had just moved to the suburb and they had “told me I could work out here.” Unfortunately, she then asked for my parents names and address. (Just cut the lies, Jimmy! Come clean! Now! Come clean!) And because I’m really smart and quick on my feet, I told this TRYHARD BITCH (I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that) that my I didn’t know their address because they just moved and “my memory is just blegh!”, and that my Dad’s name is Jim Pomerantz.
As she typed “Jim Pomerantz” into her local government issued supercomputer and asked for my ID, I remembered that the first time I went to this gym, I did sign in as a guest and gave my name as “Jim”. That’s when she asked, with a furrowed brow, “have you been here before?” I was caught. But, guess what? I JUST KEPT LYING.
“No.”
“Hmm, cuz we have your name and address in here as having signed in as a guest before.”
“Not me. That’s weird.” I actually said that guys! Like, someone with my EXACT NAME AND ADDRESS HAD ALSO SIGNED INTO THIS COMMUNITY GYM AS A GUEST ONE TIME!!!! If that doesn’t make you laugh, then I give up forever.
I ended up paying the guest fee and dominating a treadmill. On my way out, instead of tucking my tail between my legs, I gave that TRYHARD BITCH! (sorry) a hearty “Thank You!” She did not respond and I’m pretty sure my picture is up in their employee lounge now.
OUR WORLD:
Guys, it’s Friday! Oh my goodness gracious we made it! WE MADE IT GUYS! As we gear up for what’s definitely going to be an all-timer of a weekend (is it? I don’t know. Who cares?) I wanted to point something out that needs to be pointed out…movies lie to us. But Jimmy, why would you bring that up today? Of all days? I’ll tell you why my sweet babies, because the weekends are when we act most like how we see people act in the movies.
You’ve been pent up at your jobs and in your houses (you don’t have a house, Jimmy. An apartment counts! Well then say apartment…) all week watching movies and shows when you have any free time, so your brain is ready to talk you into acting like that dude with the good hair. Weekends are when you at least begin contemplating how you are “going to make a change!” Before you do so, I implore you to consult the following list of things that movies tell you to do, that you should NOT do:
-Don’t tell your crush, who already has a bf/gf/husband/wife, that you are in love with them. This applies mostly to the single, under-27 crowd, but I extended it to the real dedicated “lets fuck a life up”-crew who are contemplating ruining a marriage to have their movie moment. There were definitely a few times when I was single and under-27 that I was POSITIVE that my crush was just waiting for me to make some touching speech in the rain to break up with her boyfriend. Thankfully, I was always a bonified (more like ‘bonerfied’ lol omg) wuss in these situations and never went through with it (I can’t believe they never noticed me sulking near them in the bar.)
What would actually happen if you went through on this kamikaze mission? The person you are confessing your feelings to will look at you like you’re an alien. Like “uh, dude how many times did you watch The Notebook this week?” (I’M SORRY, I DIDN’T KNOW THERE WAS A LIMIT!!!) They’ll probably start laughing early on in your “remember when you gave me that look”-speech, and possibly call their friends over to catch a glimpse of this death spiral. (Holy shit girls! Dan’s doing his Notebook speech! Get over here!) It’ll be too late for you to pull the “just kidding” card, so you’re going to prove that you have follow through and try to finish your rehearsed plea. It will only get worse.
The spouse will show up at some point, be it during or soon after this performance, and you haven’t prepared for that, have you? What if he doesn’t find it sad-funny and is hell bent on smashing your face in? You don’t fight. You pretend like you can when you’re drunk, but it’s been years since your one sorta-real fight and it was TERRIFYING. This situation is snowballing and now you’re in the hospital.
This “dream person” has put you in the friend zone for a reason, but you also have ZERO idea what this “dream person” is like in a relationship. What if DreamGuy is into feet stuff and the fact that he has foot fungus doesn’t hold him back from asking you to suck his toes? That could happen! What if DreamGirl thinks hitting on your dad is the way to get on his good side? But then your Dad is like “I still got it” and tells your Mom, the one who bakes cookies, to “scram, Donna!” …and THEN DreamGirl is kinda like “wow, he just ended his marriage for me” so she goes along with it! NOW YOUR DREAMGIRL IS BANGING YOUR DAD!
In the end, I just don’t want your friends to catch what happened on their iPhone cameras and then send it to you for the next 33 years whenever they “could use a good laugh.”
-Don’t “just let go” and, like, jump off a cliff or something.Granted, I have not been on a cliff that I could jump off into the clear blue sea, but, like, who cares? Just go to a pool and don’t risk hurting yourself. Have you ever heard a friend say “I went cliff diving” and thought he/she was cooler for doing so? Nope, and that’s ALL they were hoping for when they did that. A bunch of out of shape people do it, so it’s really not that impressive. And I’m sure it’s not that fun and probably hurts your feet.
-Don’t drink your sorrows away and then get in a fight at the bar. The sitch that movies portray go like this: sad, pissed off guy with nothing to lose drinks beers and shots alone at a dive bar. The game is on and his team is losing because, of course. He gets progressively drunker (but his hair still looks DYNAMITE) until a big ole sumbitch at the end of the bar says something disrespectful to a woman. “Apologize to the lady!” leads to a confrontation. This David v. Goliath confrontation goes one of two ways, 1) David is a secretly awesome fighter guy and hits Goliath with, like, a throat punch that cuts off Goliath’s air supply (v cool move) or 2) Goliath throws David out of the bar, but David is okay cuz he only got hit once and just has a black eye that will cause a hot babe to say “lets get some ice on that.” This will not happen to you.
You will get hit so hard by Goliath that you’ll think you’re gonna die. Actually, you may die. Goliath may actually manslaughter you right there. OR, you’ll throw a punch that lands, demolishes your hand (it hurts real bad…i know cuz i got in fights…whatever, guys…not that big of a deal…it was actually really stupid…i don’t want to talk about it…you could say i have a dark side…) and then you’re going to get arrested, cry in a jail cell, and get fired on Monday.
Speaking of your job…
-Don’t quit your job in dramatic, or really any, fashion. Who hasn’t wanted to recreate the Jerry Maguire scene at their office? (My office even has a goldfish with a box of big plastic bags next to it!)
Sorry to break it to you, but the response you’re going to get is the HR person putting their hand on your shoulder and asking you to “go have a chat.” In the middle of your big fuck-off speech, someone at the back of the office will take out their headphones and interrupt you with a “what’s happening? what’s he saying?” It’ll ruin your entire flow, you’ll get flustered and accidentally prove that you’re not as good at public speaking as the job you have necessitates. This, my friends, is called a backfire. Even if you stop the “I HAVE PASSIONS I NEED TO EXPLORE!”-speech now, your boss is thinking that someone with such poor planning and public speaking skills isn’t the kind of employee they need right now.
-Don’t have a cigarette. Do they look cool in the movies? UHHHH DOUBLE DUH! What they forget to include after the cigarette is the: instant regret, crippling “Am-I-going-to-have-to-get-one-of-those-voice-box-things?”-fear, a hangover going from a 3 to an 11, and your mouth tasting like wet ass in the morning.
LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
Since I trust you, I want to let you in on a lil secret….Shawn Mendes is a blast-off-to-outer-space STAR. He has a new song out that DADDY LIKEY! Get in on it now. (Also, funny to call him “Shawn Menses” when you’re trying to cut him down in front of your lady person.)
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
When you take your dog for a walk and she poops twice but you only brought one bag. Somebody saw. Somebody definitely saw you leave that there.
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
Now, if you’ve been paying attention to jimmyschair, you know that sometimes I change my bets midday. Thankfully, I did that yesterday. The picks I put up on yesterday’s blog would have gone 0 for 4. GOOD THING I EVALUATE THINGS AS THE DAY PROGRESSES CUZ I SWITCHED TWO OF MY BETS AND ENDED UP (basically) EVEN FOR THE DAY!
Tonight? Can you just text me what you think because I am so lost with this tournament? That would be a nice thing to do.
The lineup for Lollapalooza 2018 came out yesterday and, after looking it over, I broke into my best old-timey-Italian-chef accent and loudly proclaimed (alone, to myself, in my car) “Thissa issa Garbagio!” If you’re not familiar with Lollapalooza, A) NERD! and B) it’s a big music festival in Chicago that was supposed to be about alternative rock bands and has somehow turned into a teenage grindfest set to robot music. Now don’t get me wrong, Coach P (that’s me, FYI. A nickname I will delve into in today’s “My World”.)loved himself a good grind sesh when he was in high school/college/right-after-college-when-I-was-real-drunk-and-in-Wrigleyville, but with age comes the realization that grinding in public is WEIRD and you suddenly feely amazingly uncomfortable around anyone doing it. Like, “where are my eyes allowed to go?”-uncomfortable. Me next to grinders = Giving an exaggerated eye-roll/head shake to signify to everyone around me that I’m not a creep, then definitely watching the grinders out of the corner of my eye because when people are having sex w/ clothes on next to you, YOU WATCH! OKAY? IT’S FASCINATING! AND YEAH, MAYBE I AM GETTING A LITTLE RUSH ON THE IDEA OF BEING CAUGHT WATCHING THEM! I DON’T KNOW, I CAN’T EXPLAIN IT! (oh I can explain it…I’m dat naughty boy.) And now I have to go take a walk. I feel shame.
So that’s why people my age can’t really go to Lollapalooza anymore, and it doesn’t help that lately, the Lolla (cool Chicago lingo) music booking people seem to ONLY book bands and headliners that appeal to not only grinders, but teenage grinders. This is a no-fly-zone. I can handle the drunk, 49 year-old just-divorced-guy grinding with the 41 year-old wino because it’s funny. But, the teenage grinding is too young and too weird and like, legally, uncomfortable to be around. Real talk, I feel like I could be arrested just for happening to stand next to teenage grinders (and I’m still not positive that’s NOT the case). Even just writing about it…like, is this okay? (You’re understanding that I’m against it, right? Guys?)
Therefore, in an effort to avoid uncomfortable grinding situations, and potentially jail time, I would like to propose the 33 year-old’s perfect Lollapalooza lineup. (I am 32 now, but will be 33 in August. I wanted to point that out because The VP of Ops is 33 now and…so she’s older than me. Just wanted to state, for the record, that The VP of Ops is older than I am. Does that mean I’m a dirty dawg and she’s a cradle robbin’ nasty nancy? I don’t know. That’s for you to decide.) When creating this lineup, keep in mind: 1) It is a one-day lineup only because 33 year olds can no longer enjoy RAGING on back-to-back days. Can we do it? Of course we CAN, but the second day will be half-fun, half-holy-shit-this-hangover-is-gonna-kill-me. 2) The bands/acts chosen can NOT appeal to the teenage grinding crew. While I do like some younger pop acts (Khalid, nbd) I am not willing to risk jail time to see them perform. 3) Bands will only play TWO SONGS MAX and will play at the time of day best suited for their talents and our mood. Why only two songs? Because all of your fave bands have two songs that you LOVE and it’s always better to leave a show wanting more than pretending not to be bored with their new material. Without further ado:
Noon-2PM:
*I will say that the bands/songs I am choosing for these day-parts will not take ALL of the allotted time. Deal with it and, you know what, enjoy it. You’ll be able to go get all the beers and snacks you’d like without missing songs. You’re welcome.
Dispatch plays “The General”–Dispatch only gets this song but they’ll play it twice because it kicks ass and I don’t know any of their other songs. It’s a good song to start the day off because it’s about “taking a shower and shining your shoes” and THAT’S MORNING STUFF GUYS! Shaking the cobwebs off and getting into that first beer. No grinding in sight. (Real talk, listening to Dispatch now and their second most popular song “Only the Wild Ones” is enchanting! Am I getting into Dispatch before your very eyes?)
Counting Crows plays “Round Here” and then “Mr. Jones”–I know, I don’t like Adam Duritz’s hair either, but that doesn’t mean that these two songs aren’t solid daytime JAMS. Slow, but not too slow. Perfect sway in place music. As Mr. Jones hits it’s crescendo, you’re gonna give your friends the “It’s so on!” look…
Bone Thugs-N-Harmony plays “The Crossroads” and then “1st of Tha Month”–Oh, it is SO ON! Be careful not to stand next to the friend of yours who actually knows all of the words to these because you will be made to feel inadequate. My move with Bone Thugs? Look down wit’ my hands up during the verses only to pop up like a friggin jack-in-the-box for “MEET ME AT THE CROSSROADS, CROSSROADS!” A little hippity hoppity has completely OBLITERATED any remaining early-day cobwebs. We’re outside and having fun!
2PM-6PM:
Outkast plays “Ms. Jackson” and then “So Fresh, So Clean”–You have entered the midday party rap jam zone and it. feels. right. VP of Ops will have a consistent “I’m-smiling-as-big-as-I-can”-face throughout the duration of this zone. Again, another time when your cool friend is going to know more than just the “for eva eva?” words, but they’re gonna be nice about it. Get ready for a lot of pointing at your spouse when Outkast sings “I’m sorry Ms. Jackson!” Guess what? WE’RE ALL MS. JACKSON TODAY!
Bloc Party plays “This Modern Love” and then “Banquet”–You may not know this band off the top of your head, but they had a moment in the early 2000s where we all liked them mucho. Put these songs on and you’ll definitely say “Oh, I remember this!” to yourself. Pop-rock that plays before it’s dark is what is needed now and Bloc Party is here for you. It’s fun! It’s sweet! It’s light! Whoa, it’s picking up some! AND YOU CANNOT GRIND TO THIS!
Girl Talk plays “Play Your Part (Pt. 1)” and then “Shut The Club Down”–This is as close to robot music as we’ll get, but don’t worry, it’s not true robot music. Remember when Girl Talk was super awesome for like 2 months? The mash-up master of all the songs we liked when we were younger is exactly what this doctor ordered. Can’t have him play too late because these songs mixed with darkness = “lets-make-regrettable-decisions!” for people in their early 30s.
MGMT plays “Kids” and then “Electric Feel”–If you still don’t get excited when these songs come on the radio, do me a favor, mmmkay? Pack your shit and move to Russia cuz you, my not-friend, are up to NO GOOD. I don’t know what happened to this band after this album, but it doesn’t matter. Shooting stars shine brightest and burn out super fast or whatever the fuck that saying is. These two songs are FOREVER JAMS and the perfect entry point to dusk. Sun has begun to go down a little bit…we’ve come off the high of Girl Talk, but we’re still riding the feel-good waves.
6PM-8PM:
Kings of Leon plays “Closer” and then “Use Somebody”–God, I loved this album. As the sun starts to set, it’s time for kinda’ ominous guitars and gravely voices. Uh…check and check! “Use Somebody” is an all-time anthem that, while overplayed, I still sing outloud in my car EVERY time it comes on. Hot tip when doing that: do NOT lower the volume to see if you “actually kinda’ sound like the lead singer”…you don’t, and that realization is going to lower your self-esteem.
Green Day plays “When I Come Around” and then “Basket Case”–Before Billie Joe put on too much eye make-up and got sober, they were an absolute good-vibes-hit factory. Now, you could argue that these two slammers off “Dookie” are better daytime jams. My rebuttal? As the sun goes down, we can’t just listen to ominous rock songs one after the next. Gotta break it up with some party vibes. Enter Green Day. (This was one of the first CDs I ever bought when I was younger, and I remember my Mom asking me what “Dookie” meant. It’s pooh, Mom. Dookie is pooh.)
My Morning Jacket plays “One Big Holiday” and then“Gideon”–It’s getting dark outside, guys!That means we’re seeing some cool light shows (not too techno-y though…don’t wanna attract grinders) and GIMME THAT MY MORNING JACKET VOICE! Kinda singing, kinda yelling, with big hair and a big beard….I NEED IT! “One Big Holiday” is our energetic goodbye to the sun (LOVE YOU SUN!) and “Gideon” slowly…cautiously…opens the doors to the night…welcome to the darkness, my friends.
8PM-WHENEVER:
Queens of the Stone Age plays “You Think I Ain’t Worth A Dollar,But I Feel Like A Millionaire” and then “Go With The Flow”–Kick that fucking nighttime door down! Darkness and Josh Homme’s rockin-ass voice means one thing for Coach P: head-banging. This is the part of the night I forget that The VP of Ops is standing next to me as I head bang my way through every second of these songs. I will not move the hair out of my face cuz I’m trying to feel like the rockstar that I am not (but like…I kinda look, like it right?) The VP will roll her eyes, tell me to push my hair back and then get kinda-actually-mad when I tell her to leave me alone. Can’t wait!
Radiohead plays “Myxomatosis” and then “I Might Be Wrong”–This band was made to only be listened to at night. Your energy may be waning, and this is that cool not-too-fast-not-too-slow spooky rock you are craving. I like how weird Thom Yorke looks and acts on stage. Seriously, the weirder the better. This will be a continuation of me pissing of The VP of Ops when I kinda’ do my Thom Yorke impression by flailing my arms around and shaking like I’m being electrocuted. Oh, also “I Might Be Wrong” has my favorite opening instrumental part of any rock song ever. It goes like “boom doom boom doom doom”-you know what just listen to it. K.
Jay-Z and Kanye play the entire “Watch The Throne” album–You thought you were done getting hyphy?!?!? (I don’t really know exactly what that word means, but it sounds right). This album is blue flames hot hot hot and anytime I hear it, it’s like the first time. EVERYONE IN THE UNIVERSE LOVES THIS ALBUM. There will be cool lights, weird floaty stage things cuz of Kanye and The VP of Ops will do the scrunch-face thing that makes her look tough and cool at the same time. I will probably try to do some sort of sway dance moves that I’m not young enough to pull off, but I. WILL. NOT. CARE.
Who wants to start a letter campaign with me to get Lollapalooza to actually run this lineup? No? Okay, just meet the VP and I at our apartment on Lolla-day this year cuz I will be playing this lineup LOUD. (Can you bring some Rose’? Thanks!)
MY WORLD:
Some of my friends call me “Coach P” and it’s probably my favorite thing in the world. You wanna see me light up like a rich man’s Christmas tree? Call me “Coach”. How did I get such a baller bad boy nickname? I kinda’ forced it. Those people that say you can’t force a nickname, I would like to introduce you to my nutz cuz I JUST DUNKED ON YOU! (Both my mother and my mother-in-law read this and I do not feel good about writing the nutz thing. Sorry ladies. ‘Member when I did the dishes after Christmas dinner?)
A few years back, I talked my friends into joining the VP of Ops and I at a divey bowling alley called “Fireside”. It’s in the movie “The Break-Up” if that helps. If not, imagine your favorite dive bar has the bowling alley from “The Big Lebowski” behind it. Yeah, it’s pretty effin’ sweet.
I was in my chubbo phase, so I dressed extra dad-like to play off my appearance as a joke. “Fat? Guys, it’s a joke!”
*Real tip: if you’re getting bigger, start dressing worse. If you buy cool, bigger clothes your friends are just going to notice that you’re wider. If you start wearing kinda funny, out-of-style clothes, your friends will just make fun of you for being a bad dresser, but you’ll act like you do it cuz it’s funny. It will piss off your spouse, but “it’s called a joke, ever heard of it!?!?!”
So, wearing loose khakis and probably a dope quarter-zip, I kinda took on this “Coach-like” character at the bowling lanes. I was drinking vodka out of a clear plastic cup because I WAS WATCHING MY WEIGHT and “Fireside” serves everything in clear plastic cups. Being awful at bowling, I figured I should give The VP of Ops very gruff, pointed tips on how she could be better. I would use this gravely voice and huff and puff around acting like her gutter-balls were actually disappointing me. I was the old man bowling coach who lived above the lanes and only drank cheap vodka. My “lessons” included yelling “Roll the ball!” and “Again!” at The VP of Ops. She did not find this character as humorous as I did.
Thankfully, my comedic-genius of a friend, Jamie, started calling me “Coach P” during this routine and IT STUCK LIKE WHEN YOU WEAR A SHIRT OUT OF THE DRYER BUT YOU FORGOT TO PUT THE DRYER SHEET IN WHEN YOU STARTED THE DRYER. Now, did me correcting everyone to only call me “Coach P” for the rest of the night have something to do with it sticking? Listen, I’m not a judge. Okay? I’m not a judge. I’m a coach.
Coach P.
LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
There’s an ad at the beginning, but it’s worth it. (If you are my parent or a parent of The VP of Ops…maybe skip this?)
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
This is the type of robot music that plays at Lollapalooza now as everyone grinds and makes the older people stay in the back. I can listen to this when I work out (yeah, I work out. Whatever.) But, I’m not listening to this in public at a rave. I just can’t. Also, as I played this song on my computer’s speakers, Belle made an audible “can you turn that off now?”-sound.
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
Guess what haters? I WON MY BET LAST NIGHT!!! To all of you who told me that “maybe gambling isn’t for you” or “do you really have enough disposable income to do this?” SHUT UP. Bet it feels bad to be such a stupid idiot! I just, can’t believe that people actually doubted my gambling abilities. Why do we fall down? To get back up! Well, I’m up and I’m ready to carry you all the way to the bank! No better way to re-enter into NCAA Tourney picks than this. You feeling great? I’M FEELING GREAT! Give me Nevada, Texas A&M, Kentucky and Gonzaga tonight. Hope you like getting rich.
Have you been noticing something about this blog? (This is a great lead in for a sick, deep burn at my expense. BRING IT ON!) Jimmy’s Chair is a stone-cold curse maker. If I write about rules for the gym, the next time I go to the gym there will be a guy shadowboxing on the treadmill next to me (this happened last night. I glared at him 3 times and then reminded myself that a guy who shadowboxes on a treadmill at Planet Fitness probably also carries a sharp knife in case he “gets stepped to.” I ain’t steppin!) If I pick a team to win, they will lose (UCLA lost to a made up school last night even though I used my lucky vape pen ON A SCHOOLNIGHT!) If I write about the impending arrival of spring, there will be a snowstorm (I had to pull over for 20 minutes yesterday because it was snowing so hard that I couldn’t see 50 feet in front of me.) With this in mind, I would like to make a few life predictions that I feel confident in and are in no way an attempt at a reverse jinx (everyone act normal. No sudden movements. Shut up shut up shut up shut up)
My dog Belle will never calm down and be nice to anyone aside from The VP of Ops and I. Great! Grand! Wonderful! The VP of Ops texted me about Belle’s latest psycho-freak-out while I was at the gym last night (working out, it’s a thing I do. Running mostly, but that’s because I have kind of a natural muscle tone. Thanks for asking.)
*Here’s the actual text exchange…I don’t know how to make the image smaller, back off.
I’ve come to peace with the fact that Belle will never get better. Dogs are supposed to be cuddly and nice especially when they look like a stuffed animal, but you know what? Even Jeffrey Dahmer’s parents loved him and I wuv my wittle cannibal doggy! I completely accept the fact that bringing her to my parents house is not in the cards. I look forward to the complications that will arise when The VP and I plan a vacation, only to realize that the ONE COUPLE that Belle actually gets along with, is out of town that week. Then, when we ask my brother to housesit, as a last resort, I understand and accept that he will make up an excuse because the one time he did watch her, she growl-barked at him into a corner for over 4 hours (this happened. He called me in Memphis and told me “she’s not calming down”. I responded “you’re breaking up! I can’t hear you!”) Guys, guess who is looking forward to the next time we have to bring Belle to a kennel only to have The VP cry the whole car ride after dropping her off? I AM, GUYS! ME! And when we have kids with psycho-killer-cannibal-dog? Let’s just say, SIGN ME UP! This is going to be great.
The VP of Ops and I will continue to rent one bedroom apartments in Chicago for the next 20 years minimum. Uhhhhhhh “yes, please!” Guys, when you get a chance to live on the third floor of a walk-up in a neighborhood known for carjackings and the occasional drive-by shooting, you find the nearest pen cuz that lease ain’t gonna sign itself! (If my parents or the VP’s parents are reading this, I would like to point out that I once got in a fight in Los Angeles and I didn’t even cry. So…yeah, you could say I’m pretty tough.) Maybe I want my money to go to the pockets of a landlord I’ve never met, who thinks fixing the heat in December is “optional”. Is that so bad? Last I checked, being different is what sets the great ones apart. I’m different, okay? I bet you REGULARS enjoy having bathrooms larger than an “Anorexic” port-a-potty too, huh? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Not me! I’m unique! And beautiful! Look, I can touch both walls in here! And no, I’m not at all bummed at the prospect of having to park at night on Carjack Boulevard for the rest of my adult life. EXCUUUUUUSE ME for marching to the beat of a different drummer!
A hiring person at a major online publication will never read this blog and offer me a well-paying writing job in a warm weather city. Getting up at 6AM to write hundreds of words is something I do because I love the act of writing and, hopefully, making someone having a rough day laugh a little bit. That’s what it’s all about, guys. I’m not here to somehow miraculously, against all odds, build a big audience that could gain the attention of someone at a website like The Ringer, who would then reach out to me with an e-mail with the subject line “Your writing has caught our attention and we have a ton of money to spend on new hires!” I’m not here for that. I’m here because this is a hobby that makes me feel good AND THAT’S IT! Money just doesn’t move my needle, if you catch my drift. Now, I don’t judge you if money is your primary motivation, but that’s just not me. I’m a “for-the-love-of-the-game”-guy. I’m the 38 year minor league catcher content with never making “the show” because I’m here for the guys, for the fans, for the love of the game. If you’re having a rough day at work, boss is really busting your hump, I hope this blog can maybe make you smile…even for just a second. If I can put one smile, on one strangers face, then I’ve done my job here.
Guys, you smell that? That’s the smell of STONE. COLD. LEAD. PIPE. LOCKS. Take these to your bookie and empty all of your accounts with money in them on these predictions. No way in God’s green, beautiful earth these don’t happen. (Don’t move…don’t! Shut up shut up shut up. Act normal!)
OUR WORLD:
WARNING: I’m about to delve into some pretty personal and, frankly, heavy issues. If you’re not okay with possibly crying at your desk, then you may want to re-think reading this section…
It’s National Chip Day. I know this because I love chips (and also because a friend of mine texted me “It’s National Chip Day”). In honor, of these salty, crispy, edible shapes, I would like to present you with my TOP TEN CHIP LIST. Now, I actually compiled a list like this a few weeks back when my friends and I got into a very heated, very prolonged argument about Flamin’ Hot Cheetos (some of these friends are raising kids. I’m excited about the next generation.) Unfortunately, my original TOP TEN CHIP LIST is lost in the sea of this group text, so I’m going to do my best to recreate it here. Oh, and Flamin’ Hot Cheeto-lovers need to get over themselves, you’re not impressing ANYBODY by pretending to like a mediocre/obscure chip. These are the same people that swear they love the taste of Malort. Get da fuck outta here!
JIMMYSCHAIR TOP TEN CHIPS
Kettle “Salt and Vinegar”: The undisputed king chip flavor and Kettle does it best.
Dorito “Nacho Cheese”: The “I haven’t had these in a while”-chip that ALWAYS blows you away.
Lays “Original Salted”: Classic and perfect. You don’t like these? Leave.
Cheddar & Sour Cream Ruffles: The VP intro’d me to these and OH MOMMA JOMMA deez iz good.
Frito Scoops: Yeah, I said it! Fritos are amazing, and guess what? Frito Scoops are just BIGGER Fritos. Bigger = better…everyone knows this.
BBQ Pringles: Pringles always sneak up on you and their BBQ flavor is ON POINT.
Jimmy John’s Jalapeno: They’re spicy, but not too spicy, and go great inside their sandy’s. Beach Club with these smashed in. Goodnight nurse.
Cool Ranch Doritos: Doritos know what they’re doing mmmmkay?
BBQ Lays: A close second to regular Lays. Guess what these go great with? A barbecue. Nailed it.
Cape Cod Salted: These will punish the roof of your mouth, but they’re totally worth it because CHIPS!
Feel free to debate me on these rankings, but know that I am positive that this is the definitive list. If yours is different IN ANY WAY, you obviously don’t know chips. Happy National Chip Day!
LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
All Hail King Chip!
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
Worst chip of all time.
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
UCLA losing to St. Bonaventure last night was completely ridiculous for so many reasons that I can’t believe Bovada is actually accepting that it happened. UCLA acting like they’ve never seen a zone defense before is something beyond anyone’s control (except our coach, Steve Alford, who should be FIRED IMMEDIATELY BECAUSE I’M MAD!) That one’s not my fault, plain and simple. Not my fault. Tonight? Listen, I don’t want to lie to you guys, here’s what’s going to happen: I’m going to wait until the last minute and then probably empty my Bovada account on Syracuse over Arizona State because Syracuse has a coach who people think is a good coach.
Jimmy's Chair 