Category: work

Worse Jobs Than Yours and Jeans in Critical Condition (6/25/18)

OUR WORLD:

Was I the only one to mutter “fuck this world with my whole heart” this morning?  My Monday morning routine has come to include vile self-talk followed by a sad march to make coffee before sitting on the couch and hugging my dog until she gives me the “are you actually about to start crying?” pull-away.  (Are we sure that hugging your dog can’t turn back the clock until it’s Sunday morning again?  BUT ARE WE SURE?!?!) It’s quite the scene in the Pomerantz household.  (Household?  You live in an apartment, pal.  Quit fibbin!”)  Now that I’ve finished shaking my head at nothing in particular, I’m ready to put my energy into finding perspective.  This section is somewhat twisted.  I’m aware that making myself feel better by thinking about the misfortune of others isn’t exactly the most noble of pursuits. GOOD THING I’M NOT NOBLE!  Faithful readers, lets take a trip back to…the “At Least I Don’t Have To Do That”-Job list.

Biker Gang Organizer:

I was in the burgeoning metropolis of Rockford, Illinois for a work event at a big sports bar this Saturday.  Unbeknownst to me, Rockford is home to large biker organizations (I don’t know if it’s a gang and if they read this and saw “gang” would they get mad and come find me?  Oh who am I kidding?  Bikers can’t read!)  GANG!  In the middle of my event, a biker GANG (still kinda’ scared…) pulled into the parking lot of the bar.  This gang consisted of about 60ish large humans wearing leather vests and bandanas while sitting on OBNOXIOUSLY loud motor vehicles.  The bar hosting my event was also the second stop on a Biker Bar Crawl.  I felt so lucky!  (Lucky? Or that feeling when you’re terrified and sad and annoyed at the same time but you act excited because the people around you think bikers are cool?  Yeah, the second one.)  

Once all of the “I’m tough because I bought a leather vest”-people had parked their bikes, however, a leader emerged.  A fleshy fellow walked to the middle of the lot, did that super loud whistle thing where you put fingers in your mouth, and yelled to the crew “WHAT DOES SINGLE-FILE MEAN?!”  I confidently raised my hand, but I guess I didn’t count.  (Fucking bullshit.)  If we’re being honest, he didn’t seem to genuinely care if people did know because he continued with his loathsome rant pretty quickly, “IT MEANS SINGLE FUCKING FILE!”  Ohhhhhhhhh!  But I thought, it meant…double….file.  The gang looked to each other with knowing nods, shared some chuckles and said things like “I’m glad that Larry is so willing to share what he knows with the rest of us!”  Seeing education live is inspiring.

But then I watched Screamy Larry head over to his clique for a few aggressive fist bumps and backpats.  It was clear he was not the leader of the Biker Gang.  Instead, he must’ve been the organizer guy; which makes sense because a Biker Gang leader doesn’t have to do stuff like look behind him while riding to make sure everyone is in single file.  Jax Teller never looked back, only ahead (Sons of Anarchy reference.  If you don’t get it, watch the show NOW.)  So I started thinking how much it must SUCK to be the guy in the biker gang in charge of making sure they stay in single file while riding around towns.  Further, there’s no way that the single-file thing is all Screamy Larry is responsible for, he must be like the Head of Organizing for the biker gang.  So the screaming made sense. Can you imagine how frustrating it must be to have to organize a biker gang?!

Aside from the whole single-file fiasco, he’s probably in charge of: figuring out how much each biker owes when they go out for a big group lunch; making sure everyone has the right patch on their leather vest; scheduling the chores at the biker gang clubhouse; AND, Screamy Larry also probably has to keep track of all of the members’ birthdays, ensuring they don’t forget to sing “Happy Birthday” and have cake in the break room.  Remember the time they forgot Knuckles’ birthday?  Knuckles and Screamy Larry do.  Simply can’t have that.

Today, when you’re staring at your computer screen while telling yourself not to say what you really want to say to your boss, be grateful that your job doesn’t entail having to send Venmo reminders to bikers who still owe from yesterday’s team lunch at Longhorn Steakhouse.  Screamy Larry knows that half the gang doesn’t even have Venmo, but asking a biker, in person, for money is something he’s just not up for on a Monday.

Money People:

This is broad and general because the whole “money management” universe is foreign and supremely intimidating.  I have friends and a brother who work in this world and I cannot imagine the stress of it.  Heading to the office on a Monday in charge of managing someone’s retirement or life savings or couch change would fill me with the type of anxiety that necessitates a 3rd martini on a Sunday night (NEVER a good idea).  

What do their voicemails sound like?  “Hey Jimmy, Mr. Perrywinkle here, I saw a report on the news that the market is taking a dive.  Is that the same market you just passionately convinced me to put my life savings into?  Just checking, let me know!”  There have to be calls like that, right?  And then you’d have to call back to remind the person whose bank account you just decimated that the market is, ultimately, unpredictable.  I’m sure they understand…

(I always feel impossibly ignorant when talking about money stuff….BUT LETS KEEP GOING!) When I see reports about the stock market doing well or not doing well or doing the same, I think to myself “that should probably interest me more than it does.”  In reality, I’m just annoyed that the news put the ‘Market Report’ ahead of the story about ‘Chicago’s Best Mozzarella Stick.’  (The answer is “Roots Pizza” FYI.  You’re welcome.)  The money guys, though, probably feel their phones seizing during any report about THE MARKET.  I can imagine a money guy or gal taking their dog for a walk on a nice day when, out of nowhere, their phone begins vibrating so much that it starts a mini friction-fire in their pants pocket.  “Uh oh, THE MARKET!”

Aside from having to be the face of market fluctuations, Money people have to make a lot of spreadsheets and graphs and presentations to really smart people in suits about spreadsheets and graphs.  Decimals and percentages and JESUS H. CHRIST it’s hard to breathe while wearing a tie in the summer.  If I were a money guy, all of my presentations would just be titled “We Should Invest in ______ Because My Rich Grandpa Said We Should.”  That would be the entire presentation, actually.

Rich Person’s Assistant

Most of us work in jobs where we’re surrounded by co-workers who earn about the same amount.  Today, when you’re having a mild panic attack re: the $74 you spent on brunch yesterday, you can look to either side and see co-workers also nervously typing in their online banking passwords.  The Monday money check is a trying time, but we’re all in it together.  That is, of course, unless you work as a personal assistant for a super rich person.  While you’re scrolling through the 14 separate charges from “Louie’s Pub” on your Chase Mobile App, your boss is tasking you with picking out a new Monday watch for him.  “Something that’s not too flashy, but enough to where people will know that I use the word ‘summer’ as a verb.”  That means the assistant gets to go into the jewelry store with a security guard!

Who do these assistants relate to at their job?  Who is the friend they can pull aside for the “you know, I hate to complain, but…”-chats?  The housekeeper’s are not on your side because they know that you get to ride in the fancy cars.  You can’t whine to the spouse because YOU KNOW they’re just going to tattle on you the next time they feel like having a “you can trust me”-convo with your boss.  The kids just think of you as the person who gets them the things they want.  So you’re left to text your friends who are too busy pretending to not look at their phones on Monday morning.  YOU ARE ALONE AND POOR IN A BIG, EXPENSIVE HOUSE!  If I was a rich person’s assistant, I would have a designated time every Monday morning where I would just stare at a mirror while crying.  I’d also probably steal little things like toilet paper and the little dog poop bags.

MY WORLD:

I’m a one-pair-of-jeans-for-6-to-8-months kind of guy, and it appears I am nearing the end of the road for my current pair of jeans.  This always happens and it’s never not sad.  The crotchal region of my jeans, having been stretched for months on end, begins to wear…and then a hole appears.  This hole gets large quickly and I am forced to retire the jeans.  My current jeans are hanging on by mere threads.  Upon close inspection this morning, we’re looking at another 3.6 days tops.  This means that for the next two weeks I have to wear pants that I don’t really want to be wearing.  It also means that I will be a little depressed because as hard as I try, there’s no way around thinking that the jeans died because my thighs got fatter.  If you happen to catch me staring down at my thighs over the next two weeks, do me a favor and feel free to mention that my legs don’t look chubbier than they did 6 months ago.  A simple “it’s gonna be okay” would suffice too.

And you think you’re having a tough Monday.

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I’m seeing Dave Matthews Band this weekend and I am so excited I’m going to talk about it to strangers this week!

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When you get up at 4 A.M. on Monday morning and think “is it even worth it to try to go back to sleep?”  Next time this happens to me, I may just buy a ticket to Yugoslavia and start a new life.

GAMBLING WENT HORRIBLY THIS WEEKEND, THANKS FOR ASKING!  TURNS OUT, BLINDLY BETTING ON A SPORT YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT (SOCCER) IS NOT A RECIPE FOR SUCCESS.  LIVE AND LEARN.

K bye.

I Live Above A Drug Dealer (6-19-18)

MY WORLD:

I think I live above a drug dealer.  In fact, it’s a couple, so I could very well be living above TWO drug dealers who are working in concert to avoid detection while maximizing ILLEGAL PROFITS!!! If you can’t tell yet, this goes deep.  While I’m sure many of you are saying to yourselves “Jimmy, just because a guy has neck tattoos, off-putting facial hair and a pit bull, it doesn’t mean he’s a drug dealer.”  (Time to dig my heels in and go into full-on Jimmy Law Mode…) WELL, THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE’S NOT A DRUG DEALER!  (Nailed it.)  

A couple weeks back (months? years? EVERYTHING IS BLURRING TOGETHER IN THIS FRANTIC WHIRLWIND WE CALL LIFE!!!)  ANYWAY!  A time ago, I was coming home late from work, for I am a “man of the night.”  When I parked my car on the street, I noticed the old, white Chevy Impala that is ALWAYS parked in the exact same spot.  I’m convinced this car was built on this corner and has never actually been driven and  the fact that it takes up the best parking spot near my building DRIVES ME BONKERS.  So I’m passing the car I hate the most on this fateful night when I notice a character in another raggedy car idling next to the Impala.  The senses honed while a Boy Scout for the 5 months before I told my Dad that I hated camping and being outdoors kicked in…SOMETHING WAS UP!

So I hurried up inside my building.  We live on the third floor of a six-unit building; two units per floor.  (Six flat? Three flat? IT’S NOT EVEN FLAT THOUGH SO WHAT THE FUCK?!?)  Once inside, I gave The VP of Ops that sweet baby smooch she’d, no doubt, been DAYDREAMING about all day and got my guard dog, Belly Psychopants, to head back outside for her nighttime dumperoo.  Little did Belle know that maintaining her digestive system wasn’t my main purpose for going outside; Detective Jimmy was ’bout to scope out this Impala situation.

Of course, we scurried across the street once outside.  The idling car was still idling right next to that fuggin’ Impala and this was purely a stake-out situation for me.  Time to hide on the side of the street without any lights!  (You think darkness is your ally?  I WAS BORN IN THE DARK!!!)  Shielded by the night sky, Belly Psychopants sniffed every single blade of grass while I squinted at the wasteful driver (idling in your car is no bueno for your engine FYI.  Read that on a little website called Google. EVER HEARD OF IT?!?!)  After about 4 minutes of Belle’s grass sniffing and my sleuthing, someone got out of the idling car.  He wasn’t a small man, but he wasn’t a big man…HE WAS A NORMAL-SIZED MAN!  (So, not really distinguishable from across the street at night.)  

Once outside the car, I noticed something VERY suspicious: he was on his phone.  Yeah! Yeah! AND! He left his car running with the door open.  I almost alerted him that this area is known for carjackings but his aura screamed “I DON’T GIVE A CARE!”  (You felt his aura?  Or were you just scared?  Answer the question, Jimmy.  We’ll wait…) Belle tugged on her leash either because she had to make a doody or because she was a frightened ‘lil beeyotch.  Unfortunately for Belle, Pomerantz’s never succumb to fear (dubious, at best).  While on the phone, NSM (normal-sized man), went up to the white impala’s gas tank.  He popped open the…uh….latch? You know, the little door-thing you open when putting gas in your car? (Car guy alert!) NSM opened the tiny gas-door thingy, looked like he took something out of there, then got back in his car and took off.

When he got back in his car, it’s not like he peeled off, but, in a way, isn’t that MORE suspicious?  He was probably like “just in case there’s a definitely-not-scared 32 year-old man with his labradoodle watching me from behind a tree across the street, I better not peel off and draw MORE attention to myself.”  I SEE THROUGH YOUR GAMES, PAL!!! I looked down at Belle to mutter “that was something” but she didn’t even care.  How interesting can the smells of grass really be?  Seriously?!?! We weren’t done snooping yet, though.  For, right as we were about to go about our dumpin’ ways, I heard the main door to MY apartment building open.  It’s a loud door because our landlord has never heard of WD-40, BUT THAT’S BESIDE THE POINT.  I heard our door, and went back into squint-mode.  Belle went back to sniffing and, like, totally not helping our cause.

Our well-lit entrance revealed a pale man with dark tattoos slither out the front door, down the steps, and over to…that goddamn Impala.  This guy owns the Impala!  While resisting my overwhelming urge to yell “WHY HAVE A CAR IF YOU’RE NEVER GONNA DRIVE IT?!?!” I noticed that slither-man was ALSO interested in the tiny gas-door thingy (hold on, I’m gonna google this…some are calling it a “fuel door”)  Slither-man opened the fuel door, grabbed something, and then went back to his slithering ways back inside our building.  I watched the windows of our building from outside and noticed that a light came on, on the floor below The VP and I right around the same time he entered the building.  What. Just. Happened.

I’ll tell ya’ what just happened!  That fuel door (car guy!) is the secret exchange place for drugs and money.  One guy drops drugs there, the other guy drops money in exchange for said drugs, then the first guy (drug guy!) gets the money.  That, ladies and gentlemen, is a guilty verdict with A FRIGGIN’ BOW ON IT!  I don’t need a silly hat and magnifying glass to solve the great crimes of the 21st Century.  All I need is my fluffy dog and the COVER OF DARKNESS!

Now, if you’re thinking that I’ve rushed to judgement, don’t worry, I’ve put together more pieces to the puzzle since this dark, scary, yet illuminating night.  Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I present to you, my findings:

-The outside of slither-man’s apartment door, the one facing to the hall, has a black feather wreath hanging on it.  I plan to call on a nationally renowned wreath-expert who will reveal that black feather wreaths signify one thing, and one thing only: drugs.

-Slither-man and his female companion have NEVER been seen during daylight.  While the VP and I have seen all of the other tenants of the building soaking up Vitamin D, we have yet to see Slither-man and Jane Doe bag ANY rays.  I know what you’re thinking: “But Jimmy, a lot of people work at night and sleep during the day!  Maybe they’re just bartenders or factory workers.”  That brings me to my next finding…

-Every single night when I take Belly Psychopants outside, there is a cloud of weed smoke billowing out from under Slither-man’s door and into the hallway.  Last I checked, it’s pretty tough to be at a factory and smoking weed inside your apartment AT THE SAME TIME! (This is the part where I shrug my shoulders and say something like “Not that I’m against weed or nuffin'” to get the jury on my side.  Lemme tellya’ though, as a certified weed-fearing person, walking through clouds of pot smoke, terrified of catching a contact-high and, subsequently, having a paranoia panic attack is NOT an enjoyable experience every time you have to take your dog out.  I feel like a scuba diver without an oxygen tank whenever I pass this apartment while it’s dark outside.)

-Slither-man and Jane Doe have a big, scary looking dog that is very calm.  Must be stoned.  No other possible explanation for it.  (Maybe they just paid attention to training it from a young age, unlike some people…) NOPE!

-And, just in case you weren’t paying attention during my opening argument, Slither-man’s white, Chevy Impala has not moved for a MINIMUM of 15 years.  MINIMUM!

For all you mathematicians out there, here’s the arithmetic:

Fuel door shenanigans + White Impala that has never moved + Black feather wreath + Clouds of pot smoke outside their door + Big, scary stoned dog + Night time sightings ONLY 

EQUALS

Drug Dealers

I rest my case.

Going forward, I may touch on potential best and worst-case scenarios involving The VP and I living about these drug kingpins.  For now, Belle and I will continue to sniff out grass smells of all kinds (see what I did there?  GOD, I’M GOOD!) 

OUR WORLD:

There is no formal review of this week’s “The Bachelorette” because I got home late last night and was so frustrated with everything surrounding my day that I just had to be alone to cook in the kitchen while the show aired (there may also have been a mondo Martini involved here).  Here is what I gathered from The VP yelling to me from the living room and getting to catch the last 11 minutes-ish of the show:

-Jordan did something: I don’t really know what.  The VP yelled some muffled thing about Jordan maybe winning something or doing something or…Look, this guy is the only thing keeping this season afloat.  Although, I’m starting to think he’s just too obvious of a producer-plant.  Like, is really dumb enough to say the things he’s saying? The whole “my face is my professionality” thing, etc.  He’s like an evil-Michael Scott who…may be in on the joke?  Is he?

-Cologne-guy got booted:  Uhhhhhhh, called it.  Dudes who are into cologne and “accoutrements” are BOZOS of the highest degree.  I feel ridiculous even writing the word “accoutrements”.  I can’t imagine bragging to a national television audience about how my self-worth is tied to the “accoutrements” and cologne I wear.  YAMMA MOMMA!

-My fave, stunt-guy Leo, got a rose!  This dude has no chance of winning, but I’m glad he’s still around.  He’s legitimately funny and still has the potential to steal the show by performing a death-defying stunt.  Whether it’s a car or building or…motorcycle?  Leo needs to jump out of something right as it explodes.  His awesome long hair will just miss the ball of flames behind him as he tucks into perfectly executed barrel roll.  Then he should get up, spit out the shards of glass that landed in his mouth from said explosion, and grab Becca like he’s never going to let her go.  If she still picks Garret or Colton after that, then she can go straight to hell.

-Weasel-face David has a bloody eye:  That’s all.  His eye looks gross and I still hate his weasel face.  He def would’ve been kicked off if he hadn’t just fallen off his bunkbed.  Bunkbed fall will buy him 1 more episode TOPS.

Those are my takeaways.  I’ll do my best to not require alone-in-the-kitchen-with-a-huge-martini-time next Monday night.

I did watch “The Proposal” afterwards and, oh baby, that show is DELICIOUSLY TRASHY!

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

There’s a new Death Cab for Cutie song!  While not their best of all-time, it’s new and they’re my favorite band so…EVERYTHING THEY DO I LIKE!  Also, VP dunked on the universe with her bday gift to me last week–tickets to these guys next time they’re in town.  Boomshakalaka:

 

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

It’s exhausting getting worked up about ALL of these horrifying Trump administration performances, isn’t it?  I legitimately think that the stress created by this ghoulish White House is having an impact on everyone’s mood.  Am I the only one a little more on edge than I should be?

WHAT CUTE OR FUNNY THING DID MY DOG DO THAT YOU PROBABLY HAD TO BE THERE FOR, BUT COULD MAYBE PUT US ALL IN A BETTER MOOD?

She sneezed right in The VPs face last night.  Legit drenched her.  I was proud of Belle.

K bye.

 

THIS BACHELORETTE STINKS LIKE POOP-AND-WHY I’M NOW A CLUB GUY (6/12/18)

OUR WORLD:

I’m close to being out on this season of The Bachelorette, guys.  When the episode started last night, I was having too much fun cooking shrimp tacos and drinking a beer by myself in the kitchen that I just told The VP to let me know if anything crazy happened.  The tacos were actually done and I just kept stirring the shrimps while sipping my DEEEELISH beer and making “AHHHH!” sounds after ever sip.  After a few, “Oh my god”s coming from the living room, though, I felt it was my duty to soldier on through this episode (salute my sacrifice!)  Unfortunately, after toughing my way through that 2 hours of GUCK, I felt even closer to being out.  Let’s go over some reasons why:

1)  Becca is the definition of “Meh”:  The VP does not think she’s hot at all and I go back and forth on it.  She dresses like a dickhead, and when Jimmy Fashion is calling out your outfit choices, you KNOW there’s an issue.  We get it, you have a flat stomach.  Now, how ’bout you act like the near-30 year old you are and wear a full shirt.  (Grandpa Jimmy’s getting his gun! RUN!!!)  Aside from debating about her looks (Which I didn’t even want to do because that’s superficial and stuff.  The VP goes into mean-girl mode and drags me down with her.  SHE MAKES ME DO IT!)  She’s not interesting or funny or villainous or….ANYTHING EXCEPT “MEH”, though.  Has she said anything that has made you close to laughing?  She had the perfect opportunity to dunk on Jordan with a joke about his tinder stuff and, instead, she gave a super awkward, passive-aggressive high-five.  Look, Jordan is a tool (I actually don’t totally hate him FWIW) but maybe Becca could break out something better than her best ABC Family joke?  When she did that and then tried to calm Jordan down by saying “I was just trying to lighten the mood with a joke” I almost drove to the bazooka store to buy a bazooka5000 JUST to shoot my 11 year-old Vizio flat-screen to FUCKING BITS!   Next time you’re trying to lighten the mood, make one person in the entire world at least chuckle.

I also think that Becca took acting classes taught by a former construction worker recovering from the “look out for that huge steel beam!”-moment.  Are producers telling her to ham up every minor difficulty?  Sure, but that’s where anyone who ISN’T an AWFUL actress, just bites their lip and shakes their head while saying “I just don’t know…”  Becca, on the other hand, tries to force tears any chance she gets while saying things like “I have nothing left.”  She actually said “I have nothing left” when Clay told her he had to leave the show.  Really Becca?  Clay, while a nice enough dude, was about as charismatic as a used paper towel and had ZERO chance of actually winning this show.  Walgreens not having your favorite flavor of KIND Bars is more emotionally devastating than Clay leaving the show.  Meanwhile, Becca is clawing near her eyes to wipe away her nonexistent tears.  I’m no eye-makeup expert (please do not bring up my college emo phase thx!) but if a woman who wears GOBS of eye-makeup, like Becca, started crying, wouldn’t SOMETHING run down her cheek? IT’S LIKE SHE TAKES US FOR FOOLS!

2)  Who are we supposed to be rooting for?  I think the answer to this question is Colton, but how hard can you root for a virgin football player?  (Jesus, Jimmy’s banging on the virgin again….YOU BET I FUCKIN’ AM!)  Seriously, you’re one WHOPPER of a DOOF if you can’t parlay being in the N-F-FRIGGIN-L into one. sexual. encounter.  Lying about playing HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL got me laid; this dude has NFL YouTube highlights and can’t get past first base with Tia.  I’m sorry, but when you’re a guy who’s just a little too sweet and nice and cute…you enter into Creepsville.  Colton seems to be on a mission to Creepsville, USA.

So who else?  Garrett?  Oh, you mean the douche who supports the theory about David Hogg and the Parkland students being crisis actors? Yeah, I’m gonna pass on this Alex Jones fanboy.  If you haven’t read up on the tweets and instagram posts that Garrett liked, do yourself a favor and google it.  The VP had tried telling me about it throughout the first few episodes but I wanted to ignore it because trashy TV isn’t supposed to be political!  But…uh….this dude is just an asshole.  In a sick way, I’m hoping he wins and Becca has to spend the entire reunion show explaining how she doesn’t support making fun of the trans community, tossing immigrant children over a wall, and bullying high school kids who had their friends murdered in front of them.  Because Garrett, that fun-loving, gun-toting outdoorsman who just wants to show Becca a good time, enjoys all of those things.  Who else would love getting to see Chris Harrison squirm as he asks Becca what she thinks of Trump’s barbaric immigration policies?  (Here’s a link to the tweets/instagram posts that Garrett liked: https://twitter.com/AshleySpivey/status/999755526257954816/photo/1)

The one guy who is worthy of rooting for is the stuntman Leo (SWOON ALERT!).  The dude with the preposterous hair who makes me laugh in his 48 seconds of weekly screen time, however, has about the same chance of winning as my great great grandfather which is funny because HE’S DEAD!  (Yikes, that was dark.)  Barring another “he fell off the top bunk”-situation, the final 3 look to be Garrett, Colton, and Blake.  A triumvirate better known as “Who gives a shit?”

3)  The villains aren’t “villain-y” enough:  The VP does seem to genuinely hate Jordan, but how seriously can you hate a guy who talks the way he does?  His whole “my professionality is my personality” diatribe was just plain silly.  The guys around him were kinda laughing and that’s not what villains engender.  You remember Chad?  Guys were peeing their pants around him because he was so scary.  If one of them would’ve made the “I’m trying not to laugh”-face that all the dudes were making during Jordan’s spat, Chad would’ve torn their heads off their necks and snacked on their brains.  LITERALLY, GUYS!  And Jordan’s nemesis is weasel-faced David who isn’t coordinated enough to SLEEP without sending himself to the ICU.  Also, real quick real quick, in the history of “The Bachelor” and “The Bachelorette” has a tattle-tail ever won?  When David ran to tell Mom, I mean Becca, about Jordan’s tinder stuff he might as well have just left the house.  Is Jordan a tool? Of course.  But, David is a rich kid with that permanent “You obviously don’t know who my father is”-smirk.  Did you see any of the SNL skits this year where they’d have Don Jr. and Eric Trump acting like petulant, idiot babies?  DAVID IS THE SNL-EXAGGERATED VERSION OF ERIC TRUMP:

If you want me to hate a character, as ABC obviously does with Jordan, you’ve gotta give me a better adversary than the “where are the railings on the top bunk?”-guy.

MY WORLD:

I went to kind of a club place a couple weekends ago, and I think I’m a club-guy now! (Jimmy NOOOOO!!!!!)  Let me know explain.  The VP had some super cool Southern friends in town (Southern girls > Northern girls.  FACTS ONLY IN THIS BLOG!) and they wanted me to meet up with them after a work thing I had.  It wasn’t just me and the gals as there were some boyfriends there too (don’t hate the juicy goss I get to hear when it is just me and the gals TBH) but they were at some place in downtown Chicago I had never heard of.  Place I haven’t heard of PLUS downtown Chicago definitely means it was clubby.  Knowing this, I decided NOT to change my outfit following my work thang.  This meant that I showed up to a club in dirty shorts that are no less than 7 years old, high-socks, gym shoes, and a backwards hat.  The VP was mortified.  My entrance was a success.

Being the worst dressed male on the disastrously douchey rooftop, and making The VP incredibly uncomfortable in the process, turned into the most fun I’ve had in a club maybe ever?  Looking like a high school gym teacher in a sea of hair gel and vodka sodas wasn’t enough for me, though.  I would only be drinking canned beers and would NOT be shy about throwing out some painfully uncoordinated “sway-like” dance moves while standing next to The VP.  Whenever I’d feel her getting some separation from Coach Me, I’d throw my chin up in the air and belch out a thick Chicago-accented “hey babe, where you going?!?!” I never call her “babe” and I never talk in a thick Chicago accent.  I was on a mission to be THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE of every other guy on that rooftop.

While some may say this whole charade was simply a weak attempt to mask my insecurities, I would say…yeah, that’s probably right.  In all likelihood, I was in the bottom 11% of guys on that rooftop in terms of looks and bank accounts.  If I’m being completely SUPREMELY honest, there were some guys up there who I’m pretty sure were male models.  They were tools, but one of them danced with a friend of The VP and all I could think was “thank God, Captain Delicious didn’t ask The VP for a dance” because he was way bigger and better looking than me.  If, after a few “hey, I’m just casual”-canned beers, Captain Delicious would have hit on The VP, I would’ve said something like say “Hey…can you not do that?” while simultaneously praying that this dude didn’t feel like showing The VP how far he could throw me.  Thankfully, the adonis I referred to in my head as “Captain Delicious” danced with The VPs friend a few yards away from me; allowing me to whisper cutting remarks about his DUMB HAT in the VPs ear.  Yeah, I’m one tough hombre.

Following this near-death experience, though, I went back to making The VP uncomfortable while earning a beer buzz in a place known for low-cal libations.  The music was silly and thumpy, but different enough that me yelling “how about some Incubus?!?!” at the DJ  earned a few chuckles.  (Real talk: who wants to open an Incubus-only bar with me?  Incubus on the speakers, and a menu that only consists of nachos and cheap whiskey shots.  GET READY FOR FUN!)  Clubs are supremely uncomfortable for non-douchebags when they’re single.  However, 6 years later, when these non-douchebags are now married, clubs are a bastion of inadvertent comedy.  Now that I’m married and in my 30s, I’m a club guy.  CATCH ME ON THE DANCE FLOOR!

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Getting a chocolate chip cookie from Potbelly at lunch because it’s your birthday week and calories don’t count that week.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Getting sleepy at work 2 hours after you ate a massive sandwich and chocolate chip cookie from Potbelly during your birthday week.

K bye.

 

 

 

Rules When Sitting Alone At The Bar and Jimmy Fashion (6/8/18)

OUR WORLD:

Since sitting alone in bars is part of my job (professional Sad?) I’ve developed proven methods to give off “no, it’s okay, I’m not a sad person”-vibes.  It’s tricky, really, toeing the line between self-assured, creepy and sad while sitting alone at a bar, but when done properly, can make you feel like one of the cool movie guys who make you want to get into cigarettes again.  (Then you’ll probably go overboard and try rolling the pack in your short sleeve like James Dean until you catch your profile in a mirror and realize that your jawline is NOT chiseled.)  I’m planning for “The Rules of Being Alone At A Bar” to be recurring posts.  Let’s try these out first:

NEVER SIT DIRECTLY NEXT TO SOMEONE WHEN THERE ARE OTHER SPOTS OPEN:  What’s worse than sitting at a bar with a bunch of open seats, and some chode picks the seat right next to you?  Everyone knows that there should be one seat in between each party at the bar and if I owned a bar, I would actually mandate this by allowing my customers to place sharp metal spikes on the seats flanking their party at the bar.  Would there be some bloody butts? If it keeps the creeps fromma’ creepin’, then it’s well worth it.  Girls, wouldn’t you be much more likely to go to the Spikey Seat bar than risk having Hairy Jerry and his double vodkas sitting next to you and your friends on a Friday night?

If you are reading this and thinking “I like to sit next to strangers at the bar because I’m open to meeting new people!” just stop fibbing yourself.  The whole “meeting new people”-catchphrase was started by some hippy who wrote a book or something that confused affability with harassment.  What, you can’t talk to someone if your love-handle isn’t resting on their thigh?  (Side note: ever look at people seating at the bar from behind? NOBODY looks good.  It’s like a row of ziplock bags stuffed full of melting gelato with heads on top.  Oh, and the heads? Most have bald spots.)  

MAKE FRIENDS WITH THE BARTENDER WITHOUT A FULL-BLOWN CONVERSATION:  Not every bartender is an amateur psychiatrist thrilled to diagnose all the problems you’re dumping on their doorstep.  Remember especially if they’re over the age of 35, they’re doing a job that requires an explanation of “what went wrong” every time they speak to their grandfather.  When I bartended, I did not whistle while I worked.  Instead, I felt trapped between sads and their unprescribed medicines; I got to play the unlicensed doctor setting my patients up for a blip of relief before waking up with a stinging headache.  (I just don’t understand why Jimmy wasn’t a good bartender?!?!)  I was cordial with the alone-people at the bar, but I was overly cautious with them due to the fear of getting caught by a talkative one.  Ever wonder why the bartender acts super busy in a slow bar? He’s probably trying to avoid getting cornered by an alone-person sitting at his bar.  It must be a BILLION-TRILLION-GAJILLION times worse for female bartenders.  Give ’em all purple hearts and lifetime passes to every panic room ever constructed.

As an alone-person at the bar, simply play hard to get with the bartender.  You want to make friends with him because maybe he’ll give you a free drink and most bartenders have cool stories.  So order your bev, thank him or her without really looking at them, and go back to watching the television.  Play it cool, guys.  Keep an eye on what’s going on around the bar and, after a while, you’ll pick up on some of the politics surrounding your seat.  Maybe you’ll see a pouty server or a bitchy customer or an angry boss.  Once you spot this, wait for the bartender to come near you and flip a “I’m with you, brother”-comment the bartender’s way.  For instance, lets say you see a customer send back a drink more than once.  When the bartender nears you, say something like “they seem like fun.”  BOOM, you’re on the bartender’s side.  All most bartenders want to do is complain about their job, so once you open that possibility for them, they’re puddy in your hand.  And guess what?  Alone-you has just made friends with the most popular person in the place.  Congratulations.

DON’T TALK TO THE TELEVISIONS:  You’re not fooling anyone.  The entire bar knows that your running commentary on the muted news program is a signal: YOU’RE DYING FOR SOMEONE TO REACT TO YOU!  I’m not talking about the meatballs who yell at their teams during important sports games (how else would the players know they were fucking up?)  No, I’m talking about the nights at the bar where there aren’t sports on, but they left the TVs on, like, the news.  There’s no sound, but a picture of Trump will come on the screen and the alone-guy DYING FOR A REACTION will blurt out something like “You believe this guy?”  First off, no, I can’t fucking believe that guy.  But more importantly, I don’t want to be goaded into a political conversation with the alone-guy stranger at the bar.  Nobody does EXCEPT for maybe some of the other alone-guys at the bar.  This creates an absolute nightmare scenario where alone-guys are shouting conversation to each other from across the bar.  If you find yourself in one of these shouted convos, stop it right now.  You don’t want to be one of these people for even ONE SECOND of your life.

Now what if you hear one of these alone-people barking at the TV, but you didn’t know that was the situation?  You turned to your left and, all of a sudden, you’re making direct eye-contact with said alone-person right as they’re reaching the climax of their political monologue.  “Shit, alone-guy is gonna take this as a sign I want to engage in this” is what every sane person immediately thinks.  And guess what? Alone-guy DOES take that eye-contact as a sign that you’re in.  As you see television talker alone-guy misread your accidental eye-contact, he’ll shift slightly towards you covered in “let’s have a chat”-body language.  Before he completely turns in his chair, you need to get up and go to the bathroom.  That’s your only way out; straight bail move.  Act like you really need to go and you turning that way was just part of your exit-move.  Hop off your barstool and do a trot-waddle to the bathroom to really drive home the point.  We don’t want to make the alone-guys sad, but it’s every man and woman for themselves whenever the television talker starts acting up.

 

MY WORLD:

I’m in the midst of a sock crisis, and I’m close to just throwing in the towel.  The VP and I have gotten caught WAY behind with our laundry, so we’ve been employing the “lets rummage through the over-stuffed dryer every morning for our outfit”-plan of attack.  Unfortunately, the fruits of these dryer searches are limited to shirts only.  At this point, finding matching socks is about as likely as The VP becoming an ultra-marathoner (I think I’ve seen her run once…in an Ikea parking lot when she thought for a second she was gonna get hit by a car.)  Now, a normal, responsible adult would gather all the hamper socks and devote however long it takes to match socks.  Lest you forget, I am special and have chosen an alternative solution: embracing mismatched socks as “my new look”.  I, Jimmyschair, hereby announce that I am no longer a sheep in the matched sock flock.  Remember, fortune favors the bold.

socks

For those of you who thought Jimmy Fashion was dead: catch me on my yacht.

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Dave Matthews Band came out with a new album and I think this is my favorite song on it.  I THINK!

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Rainy Fridays in the summer.

WRITING ABOUT GAMBLING ON THE NBA FINALS IS BORING ME SO I’M GOING TO TAKE A BREAK FROM IT FOR A LITTLE BIT.  PLEASE DON’T CRY LIKE “BACHELORETTE” LINCOLN ABOUT THIS.

But real quick, I’m putting the balance of my Bovada account on the Warriors tonight. 

K bye.

Car People and Tight Shorts (6/6/18)

MY WORLD:

 

A few years back, The VP of Ops and I got in a big fight about me being wrong and not admitting it and then getting madder at her for pointing that out and it turned into a real THING.  Mind you, our fights usually consist of me being in some sort of mood (Shut up to all the people saying “such a Gemini”-in their head rn) or The VP just absolutely refusing to admit when she may have been wrong.  It’s the same routine most times where we’ll get mad, kinda snap without yelling, make exchange some cutting remarks in the guise of “being funny”, give each other the silent treatment for a few hours and then gently start to make gentler jokes about the fight as we wait for the other one to apologize first (spoiler alert: IT’S ALWAYS ME BECAUSE GAH FUHBIH SHE EVER ADMITS THAT SHE WAS WRONG!) Anyway, this particular fight a few years back, was ratcheted up a few notches because it happened later in the evening after we had entered HAMMEREDVILLE, USA.  You know those drunk fights where halfway through you catch yourself in a sober flash thinking “wait, why am I mad? Uh oh…I have no idea…DOESN’T MATTER, KEEP GOING!”?  It was one of those.  This night, however, my power move wasn’t just a silent treatment, but it was to retreat to the only place I can truly be myself: my car.  (Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to drive anywhere.  The plan was to sleep in my car…then I realized the backseat was supes uncomfy so I waited another 11 minutes before slithering back into our apartment.  Uh….yeah, I think she got the point!) 

We’re different people in our cars, right? Maybe I’m saying that because I’m in mine a lot and I act like a borderline mental patient in mine, but where else are you alone in a soundproof box with windows?  It’s as close as we’ll ever come to being invisible in public (hey inventors, get off your asses and prove me wrong!) and I don’t know about you guys, but I relish this pseudo-invisibility.  WHO’S WITH ME?  Here are some of my classic “I can do this because I’m alone in a soundproof box”-moves:

-Front-seat Dancing:  Singing is obvious and I can be one basic bitch so, yeah, I sing too, but the seated dance moves I’ve developed are nothing short of…well, probably disappointing.  BUT! While I’m doing them, my brain is flooded with “remember this move next time you’re being looked at on a dance floor!”  (Can someone also have a chair ready for me?)  If you’re curious about what these moves are (WE ARE! JIMMY! WE ARE!) close your eyes TIGHT and think rolling shoulders mixed with pointing fingers that SOMETIMES curl back into air drum routines.  Mind you, these moves are more likely to come out on Thursdays and Fridays as JGT (Jimmy Good Times!!!) nears his weekend entrance.  And the bands/musicians that bring these hotsex seated dance moves out? We’re talking CHVRCHES, Steve Winwood (JGT’S FAVORITE), and maybe some cool-guy “I’m a rapper when I’m alone in my car”-moves for Old Kanye.  I will warn you, however, that if you play any of this music while in the car with me, you will not see these moves.  They are strictly for Alone-In-The-Car-Jimmy.  I have made eye contact with random drivers mid-move, and I immediately stop and look up and away kinda’ like how Michael Cera did during the awkward moments in “Superbad”.

-The “I’m Pissed” Arm Toss:  Middle fingers are so 1999, guys.  When I get mad, and I’m either in front of or directly behind the car that made me mad, I toss my arm up like I’m flinging a frisbee through my sunroof.  Here’s the thing though: there is no frisbee, and I have no sunroof.  You just got hit with the Jimmyschair patented “I’m pissed” arm toss.  And if you’re not feeling guilty for what you and your FUCKING car just did to me? Then I hope you rot in hell.  Now I will say that this move is NOT restricted to Alone-In-The-Car-Jimmy (let’s call Alone-In-The-Car-Jimmy; JimE cuz it’s edgy but still sounds like my name!)  The VP was introduced to the “I’m Pissed” Arm Toss early on in our relaish (what hip lingo doesn’t Jimmy know?!?!) after some pisspants cut me off.  I don’t remember her exact reaction, but it was along the lines of a dripping-sarcastic “wow, my hero!”  I always use my right arm because it’s stronger (thus, more intimidating) and there are no less than 4 tosses per day.  JimE’s thinking? Chicago traffic is bad because there are too many guilt-free drivers not realizing the damage they’re causing by SWITCHING LANES WITHOUT A GODDAMN SIGNAL.  The “I’m Pissed” Arm Toss slings guilt from my Chevy Equinox the way a Catholic Priest does during his sermon.  Should we start calling my right arm Father Arm O’Tossahand?

-Talking to myself:  The invention of speakerphone has provided the perfect cover for talking to yourself in the car.  Even if you’re caught by a red-light neighbor, you can shoot the “I’m on the phone”-look (there’s a look for that? YEAH DUMMY!) Whether it’s preparing for an upcoming presentation; or running a “mock argument” that I’m anticipating later that day; or pretending that I’m being interviewed by a late-night talk show host, there is no shortage of my voice in my car.  What’s weird about talking to yourself is that if you do in front of people, you’re obviously a LOON.  BUT! I would also posit (nice word) that if you don’t do it while you’re alone, you are simply a different breed of LOON.  Are there actually people who never talk to themselves?  Is that the origin story of every socially awkward person?  (Jimmy seems to really want to convince us that talking to yourself is not only not crazy, but normal.  Hey Jimmy, PLEASE START TAKING PILLS PRESCRIBED BY A LICENSED PSYCHIATRIST!) This morning, for instance, I have about an hour-long commute, during which I plan to hold an interview where my current-self asks my future-self all about why it took so long for me (us?) to break into Hollywood’s writing scene.  I can’t wait to give humble answers.

OUR WORLD:

Hopefully, you haven’t been like me lately and eating copious amounts of cheese dips.  My summer bod is taking a hiatus that my shorts from last year were NOT prepared for.  Therefore, I am entering a “I’m going to try to eat super healthy during the week, so I can pig out on weekends without having to buy all new summer clothes”-diet.  If, unfortunately, you are like me and are looking to enter a similar shorts-saving campaign, here is what I have eaten and plan to eat for the rest of this week’s dinner.  I give you, some healthy meals that don’t suck:

-Baked Chicken Wings:  As long as you don’t coat them in flour or use butter in your buffalo sauce, I think we’re pretty gucci here. On its own, buffalo sauce ain’t that bad for you according to my brain when it looks at the nutritional info on the back of the Frank’s Buffalo Sauce bottle.

-Turkey Tacos:  Lean turkey meat with taco seasoning is FINE, and I’m pretty sure if you use corn tortillas, it’s basically like eating corn…which is a vegetable and, therefore, GOOD FOR YOU.  Skip the sour cream, but allow a little cheese.  Atkins allows cheese and it’s kinda’ Atkins-y, so the cheese is okay.

-Skirt Steak with Chimichurri and Asparagus:  Chimichurri is like limey pesto and errbody knows I love me some pesto.  Skirt Steak is protein and protein is good because muscle guys talk about it a lot.  The asparagus makes your pee smell weird which is a sign that you’re keeping your body on it’s toes with this new healthy-you.  Watch out bod, things are a changing!

-Grilled Chicken and Broccoli:  I’m not gonna lie, this is a boring-ass meal.  However, you need to throw in one super healthy boring meal a week so you have something to truly brag about to your friends this weekend.  Get ready to drop health-bombs on them like “it’s so nice not having to have another chicken and broccoli dish this week!”  All your friends will get quiet and think to themselves “shit, what did he mean by another?  I didn’t even have ONE chicken and broccoli meal this week!”  That’s cuz you’re not as healthy as us, SUCKER!

And then Friday night comes and everything goes to hell.  GOOD LUCK TO ME AND US AND EVERYONE WITH LAST YEAR’S SHORTS! (Or in my case, shorts I think I bought at least 6 years ago.)

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When your dog starts barking at a sound they hear in your apartment building, but before you can yell at them to be quiet, they run over to “protect” you.  There’s part of me that kinda’ hopes that one day someone bursts through the door and calls Belle’s bluff.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Shaving.  I’m putting it off because it’s never NOT annoying.  I feel bad that girls can’t grow leg beards and, like guys, just be like “it’s a new look I’m trying out.”  Of course they can, but like…maybe don’t.  Please.

WRITING ABOUT GAMBLING ON THE NBA FINALS IS BORING ME SO I’M GOING TO TAKE A BREAK FROM IT FOR A LITTLE BIT.  PLEASE DON’T CRY LIKE “BACHELORETTE” LINCOLN ABOUT THIS.

K bye.

 

 

 

 

 

“The Bachelorette” Recap: The Biggest Wuss in America. (6/5/18)

OUR WORLD:

Can we cool it with the crying, guys?  Last night’s episode of “The Bachelorette” was embarrassing for men everywhere.  EVERYWHERE.  From Lincoln crying about his picture with Becca being tossed into the pool, to that Southern NOBODY making an ALL-TIME cry-face after he got booted, last night may go down in history as the night millennial’s ruined manhood in America.  This episode, though, was about one thing and one thing only: Lincoln taking the crown of “Biggest Wuss in America”

I’m all for a sensitive moment, here or there, but how come every goddamn moment in this show has to be the guy proving to Becca that he’s capable of embarrassing his grandfather?  Let’s try to go through this as best as I can remember, because I am NOT going to rematch that atrocity to make sure I get the sequencing right (I HAVE WORN A TIE 4 TIMES IN THE PAST YEAR FOR CHRISSAKE!!!)  

The Lincoln Crying Part

First off, Linocln’s accent really does sound like he’s a community theater actor trying WAY too hard.  Now when the episode started and you saw guys acting excited about “being pampered” by getting to put on tuxedos, we all should’ve known that this was the start of something epically embarrassing.  What guy gets his rocks off by drinking champagne and trying on tuxedos?  That’s a fun date for a guy?  Guess I’m more of a loose cargo shorts and chicken fingers kinda’ guy (SWOON ALERT!  Also, I don’t really wear cargo shorts anymore, but I miss the times when I did.) Here’s an idea: let’s drink something that no man ACTUALLY likes while wearing clothes that make you feel like your entire body is choking.  WAIT, DO WE GET TO DRINK CHAMPAGNE IN TUXEDOS?!?! AND THESE DUDES WERE ACTING LIKE IT WAS CHRISTMAS MORNING.  Once I saw this, I turned to the VP with a “something is afoot”-look.  She knew too.

Following this misplaced excitement, Chris Harrison and the GENIUS producers threw a twist in: obstacle course time.  Guess what, Champagne Papi’s?  TIME TO GET MESSY!  YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO CRAWL THROUGH MUD!  They should’ve made the obstacle course ACTUALLY difficult and had them run up to a family member who fought in a war and then have to explain how much they enjoyed the champagne and fashion show. “Hey Grandpa Bill, remember that time you told me about you hunting Nazis in the middle of the night when you were 19?  Well, I don’t mean to show you up, but I’m 26 and just cried because I got to try on a tuxedo.”  COOL!

Lincoln “won” this obstacle course because he cheated.  Two questions: 1) What in the LIVING FUCK was Chris Harrison doing?  Was he too busy preparing to remind all the guys that one rose left on the table means that “this is the final rose” to, I don’t know, POINT OUT BLATANT CHEATING?  This should’ve been Chris “The Captain of I-Have-Done-Nothing-Meaningful-With-My-Life Mountain” Harrison’s shining moment as he swooped in with a hand in Lincoln’s cheating-ass chest to push him back to the ice tub.  But no.  Yet again, Chris Harrison’s inactivity reminds us that he’s television’s most useless human being.  The person who refill’s Hoda Kotb’s backstage wine during “The Today Show” contributes more to the success of that show than Chris Harrison does to this.

SECOND QUESTION:  None of the guys throw a John McEnroe type fit about this cheating?  They just take it like the losers they are.  This was the perfect set up for a star-making comedy turn if one of these guys would’ve lost their mind.  Maybe they get kicked off the show, but at least they’re known as the funny guy who stands up for FAIRNESS!  If it were me, I would’ve taken my shirt off, lit it on fire and whipped it around my head while screaming “WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY BASED ON RULES!!!!”

Later that night, Lincoln and his mood ring of an accent got all emotional when Becca gave him a picture of him with her after the obstacle course “victory.”  Him pretending that this was meaningful almost caused me to punch myself IN THE FUCKING FACE.  “Oh, a picture from earlier today…sweeeeeet….”  Nope, this dumbass picture was enough for Lincoln to declare this as “the best first date” of his life.  OUCH, BRO.  VERY OUCH.  How do you think the “second best first date” of Lincoln’s life went?  The girl kick him in the nuts and staple a “I have no real friends” sign to his forehead?  (“Yes, that girl did fire a staple into my forehead, but my Aunt bought me this ice cream cone so, all in all, it was a pretty good night.”-Lincoln re: the second best first date of his life, as blood pours from his forehead onto his vanilla ice cream.)  

The episode really kicked into overdrive, though, once Fitness Coach Connor (I said I’m not a trainer!) tossed the framed photo of Lincoln and Becca into the pool.  I actually respected the move at the time.  This group of dudes was WAY overdue for a meathead moment, and this was kinda’ close to that.  I was in.  But then Lincoln tattled to Becca which eventually led to Connor giving a HEARTFELT APOLOGY.  WHAT?!?!?!!? Once Connor found out that Lincoln ran to Becca to cry about that dumb picture taking a dive, he should’ve gone to the nearest gun store to buy a sawed-off JUST so he could put it to Lincoln’s head. “Now Lincoln, you’re gonna be a good boy and go back to Becca to tell her that you dropped the picture in the pool and that your good friend Connor dove in to pick it up for you.”  I’ve decided that firearms need to be introduced to this season of “The Bachelorette”.

Instead, though, Connor forced up some “that’s not me”-type apology re: the picture in the pool.  If you weren’t yelling “oh give me a fucking break!” at your television by this point, we may be different species.  Not only that, but that apology WASN’T ENOUGH FOR BECCA.  She still had to throw the “I just need some time” at Connor.  Some time for what?  To remember that grown man Lincoln ran to you like a teacher at recess?  Hey Becca, is that the kind of guy you want to BE THE FATHER TO YOUR CHILDREN?!?!?!

Lincoln wasn’t done, though.  Nope.  No way.  The next morning, while recounting this picture in the pool situation, he started crying in front of a group of guys that weren’t there.  This was the most unbelievable crying situation I’ve ever seen.  UN. BE. LIEV. ABLE.  A 26 year-old man who is built like a friggin’ adonis just cried in front of a group of guys about a picture of him with a girl he had spoken MAYBE 4 sentences to in his entire life.  You know the Starbucks barista you’ve seen a few times?  Now imagine being surrounded by a bunch of strangers, all guys, and crying about a picture of you and that Starbucks barista that was tossed into a pool.  “She always put just the right amount of foam on top of my latte!”  During this whole scene, I was DYING for one of these guys to go into straight-bully mode: point at Lincoln, laugh like any movie villain EVER, and try to stuff him in a closet somewhere in that big, dumb house.  If you showed a video of this scene during an Anti-Bully rally, you’d see the entire crowd shrug like “are we sure we don’t want ANY bullies?”

If you still think that guys with muscles can’t be ALL-TIME-WIMPS, I would like to introduce you to Bachelorette Lincoln, “The Biggest Wuss in America”.

A QUICK JIMMYSCHAIR SUGGESTION IN LIEU OF A “MY WORLD”:

The pilot episode for “Succession” on HBO was one of the best pilot episodes I have seen in a while.  Terrific acting plus solid writing equals ME LIKEY.  If you’re looking for a new show to get into, “Succession” has “You’re going to talk to your friends about this”-written all over it.  Supposedly, other reviews said the episode was “boring.”  Too bad those other reviews are stupid and should be IMMEDIATELY redacted because that is PATENTLY WRONG.  It’s funny and smart, and if you don’t think Brian Cox is the best “angry old-guy” actor going, you need to get your head out of the sand, pal!

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I like this remix because I’m YOUNG!

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Supposedly, this guy saw this kid messing with a bunch of cars in the parking lot, and tried to put a stop to it.  Aside from hating this kid, the reason I hate this video is that there wasn’t some other kid to act like a hero by jumping in with a tire iron to WHOMP this little brat.  If we’re being totally honest, I would’ve been fine if this adult threw this kid into an active volcano, but I don’t think I can totally advocate for that in a public forum such as this.  If, however, someone the same age as this kid, showed up with a home-run swing and a rusty tire iron, we’d all be happy, right?

 

WRITING ABOUT GAMBLING ON THE NBA FINALS IS BORING ME SO I’M GOING TO TAKE A BREAK FROM IT FOR A LITTLE BIT.  PLEASE DON’T CRY LIKE “BACHELORETTE” LINCOLN ABOUT THIS.

K bye.

Bachelorette Pt. 2 and Acting Young (6/1/18)

OUR WORLD:

Who’s ready for part 2 of Jimmy’s “Rapid Fire Judgement Zone”?!?! I AM FEELING VERY JUDGY THIS MORN!!!!

Jason NY

Jason “Sr. Corporate Banker” (New York):  A banker who uses a TON of gel in his hair is a little too on the nose, right?  This is the kind of guy that only drinks vodka sodas at the bar while gently touching his hair to make sure it’s not out of place.  NOPE.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  He stays a little longer than you’d think because he starts to blend into the background and Becca forgets that he’s there.  Then, one night when Becca is having an especially hard time figuring out who to send packing, Chris Harrison reminds her that Jason is still there.  Relieved, Becca sprints to the rose ceremony and tosses Jason out like a surly umpire throwing a high school brat out of a playoff game.  YOUUUUU’REEEEE OUTTTTTAA HEEEEEERRRRRREEEEE!

Jean Blanc

Jean Blanc “Colognoisseur” (Florida):  You know me by now, right?  Take a wild guess how I feel about a guy who collects expensive colognes, talks about “accouterments”, and wears a MONSTER bow tie…Here’s a somewhat controversial take: he’s the least likable person on the show so far.  Hear me out!  We’ll get to the male model later, but this guy seems VERY GENUINE about being a “colognoisseur”.  Like, I don’t think ABC producers have told him to ramp it up.  If anything, I imagine the producers were like “jesus, this dude is REALLY into spray bottles full of smells.”  I don’t have any cologne-guys for friends.  Maybe some of them wear it, but I have never had a friend talk to me about their cologne.  If they did, I would immediately label them “cologne guy” and loudly ask them in public places “What scent did you go with today, Terry?!?!”  Villains are into cologne, not heroes.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  Becca gets rid of this guy in like 3 episodes.  She has to catch on to his ever-changing scents, right?  That’s a red flag, y’all.

Joe.jpg

Joe “Grocery Store Owner” (Illinois):  I want to like this guy more than I did (spoiler alert: he gone)  The VP was ALL IN on this dude, and I kinda’ get it.  He was endearing when he choked during his first interaction with Becca, but he’s a grocery store owner who looks 15 years older than he is.  A Chicago guy with a non-flashy job seemed right up my alley, but then he just…got…a little….too into talking about watermelons.  Hey guy, “I sell watermelons” isn’t an awesome pick-up line.  You think Becca couldn’t wait to call her family later that night to tell them “I think I’m falling for the watermelon salesman!”  Quit fibbing yourself, bro.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  He was booted, but The VP still loves him.  This means that for the next 3 months, any guy in Chicago that kinda looks like this guy, she will instantly think it IS this guy and probably call me to brag about being in the same CVS as “that grocery store guy from Bachelorette.”  She won’t even remember his name.  SAD!

John CA

John “Software Engineer” (California):  This guy dropped a HAMMER of a line when he said “I build the Venmo app.”  Becca should’ve married this guy that second.  I like this guy.  He’s normal with a WILDLY impressive job relies on his brain and not him being a slimeball.  I don’t know a TON of engineers, but they’re all the same: side part, boring fashion, even-tempered, smart, stable, and, eventually, will make a BUTTLOAD OF SWEEEEEEEET CAAAASSSSSHHHHHH.  Will this dude make you laugh everyday? Probably not.  But he also will never cheat on you or get heated in a fight about how to speak to a Comcast customer service representative (Literally told me to “be nicer” to this person while I was on the phone.  I almost jumped out the window.  SHE TOOK COMCAST’S SIDE!!!!  I FEEL LIKE I’M TAKING CRAZY PILLS!!!!)

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  Becca will toss this guy soon (maybe already did? Can’t remember) because he’s not SEXY.  Hey Becca, congrats on being an IDIOT.  While you’re taking care of baby #7 and Garrett is out fishing, John will be yacht shopping with his new Victoria Secret model wife.

Jordan

Jordan “Male Model” (Florida):  First, of course he’s from Florida.  Second, my opinion on this dude has evolved since watching the episode live.  This is obviously a put-on, and I’m kind of thinking it’s funny now.  This is the guy producers saw being a little too into himself and said “yeah that, but TIMES A THOUSAND if you wanna be on tv.”  This guy really wants to be on TV, so he’s jumping into the Omarosa-deep-end of the villain pool.  Unfortunately for him, I just don’t think he’s a good enough actor to convincingly pull off the villain role.  He’s no Chad.  If he was SO cocky and full of himself, he would’ve had the stones to talk to Becca one-on-one that first night.  He didn’t and you could see he was nervous.  When those guys were giving him shit for not talking to her, his face had “I’m not this guy I’m portraying” written all over it.  Once you accept that, his whole persona goes from being super annoying, to actually pretty funny.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  He stays around through mid-season because the producers have a lot invested in him being the villain.  I hope he keeps trying SUPER hard to be a dick, but then wimps out at the end.  If anything, he is showing every casting director in the universe that he cannot act.  Can’t wait to see this guy on page 26 of an LL Bean catalog in 8 years.

Kamil

Kamil “Social Media Participant” (New York):  This was the 60-40 guy!  WHAT A FLOP OF AN OPENING LINE!  Did he think the way to Becca’s heart was by BULLYING HER into walking towards him?  Becca’s best moment of the first ep was when she refused to go past halfway.  “Social Media Participant”?  So….he’s on Facebook?  How great would it be if this dude’s resume just listed all of his social media accounts?  PLEASE LET THAT BE TRUE!

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  He’s heckled with “60-40” jokes for the rest of his life.  Eventually, he’ll change his name, shave his head and move to the mountains to get away from all the derision.  But guess what, Kamil…they have TVs in the mountains too.

Leo

Leo “Stuntman” (California):  My favorite guy on the show.  He’s legitimately funny and I think he owns how his hair is kind of ridiculous.  I’m sure he’s a real weird dude, but he’s the most interesting guy on this show.  Can we please hear stories about all of his “stunts”?  He did fuck up, though, when he didn’t do some crazy awesome stunt when his limo pulled in.  How could he not have crashed the car or jumped a tree in a motorcycle or jumped off the roof to meet her?

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  He better stay around long enough to impress the whole cast with some WILD stunt.  There was a shot of an ambulance in the season trailer, and you better believe I’m hoping it has to do with a stunt this guy tries to pull, that goes VERY BADLY.

Lincoln

Lincoln “Account Sales Executive” (California):  Is this the classic bait-and-switch?  I thought this dude was pretty nice, but the trailers for the rest of the season imply that he becomes THE bad guy.  CAN WE TRUST NOTHING?!?! The VP likes his accent a lot and I did say “God Damn!” when they showed him doing some ab workout that looked impossible.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  His whole “scandal” is not going to be nearly as exciting as the season-long trailer made it look.  Is he this season’s Crystal?  Highly doubtful.  UNLESS, the scandal is about his accent!  What if he just changes it from episode to episode?  One episode it’s Jamaican, the next it’s a thick southern accent.  Yeah, that’s gonna be the “scandal” of the season.

Nick.jpg

Nick “Attorney” (Florida):  The VP really really likes this guy and I find that somewhat upsetting.  This guy?  I mean, he’s decent looking but doesn’t he just look like if the bad guy in “The Karate Kid” got a law degree?  And this picture?  A QZ with no undershirt is a WILDLY COCKY move.  I’d imagine this guy telling you that he wants to bang your sister and then not comprehending why that makes you FURIOUS.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  He tells Becca that he’s into some really weird bedroom stuff and The VP, trying to save face, has to try to pretend that zipper mask stuff is normal.

These guys don’t matter and I will not waste my time on their SORRY ASSES!

FINAL PREDICTION:  Colton is going to win and there will be a social media movement defending virgins everywhere.  I will feel like a bully for making fun of his virginity and, due to overwhelming public pressure, will be forced to resign my post as “Judgey Blog Writer Who People Don’t Really Pay Attention To”.  It’s been gun, guys.  Who woulda’ thought Jimmyschair would be taken down by a virgin?

MY WORLD:

Tomorrow morning I have to set up a booth at a college music festival.  Northwestern University has an end-of-the-year music fest every year, and the company I work for is a big sponsor for it.  It’s my job to make sure our booth looks good and we’re ready to roll.  This means, however, that I’m going to be surrounded by college kids wearing tank tops and cool hats.  How am I supposed to act?  I’m really not sure.  Being 32, I don’t feel like college was THAT long ago but…like, it was.  In an effort to feel young, do I try to befriend some of these kids?  What’ll probably happen is I’ll try too hard to come off like the cool-guy and will fail miserably.  Here’s what I’m thinking I can talk to these kids about tomorrow:

-Drake vs. Pusha T:  I’ll say something like “Drake shouldn’t have messed with Pusha!” (I don’t like Drake and don’t know Pusha T)

-Music: I’ll say something like “I’ve been listening to a lot of Chance lately!” (I haven’t.  I think Chance is overrated.)

-Politics: I’ll say something like “Just legalize it already!” (Honestly, I hope they don’t legalize weed.  It’ll just mean I’ll have to deal with more peer pressure to smoke it and I’m VERY VERY SCARED OF THE WEED!)

-Sports:  I’ll say something like “LeBron is amazing, but Jordan was–” (and then I’ll catch myself realizing that these 20 year old kids never saw Jordan play.  Me saying that I did would immediately out me as “the old guy”.  DOES THAT MEAN I HAVE TO PRETEND TO LIKE LEBRON MORE?!?! DOUBLEFUCKKKKKKKKK)

-Weather:  I’ll say something like “Dude, sweatpants play no matter the temperature.” (As my legs sweat profusely in my thick 14 year old University of Cincinnati Jordan Brand sweatpants)

-Pop Culture:  I’ll say something like “me too” to myself when I see a guy looking awkward off to the side.  A girl will overhear this and think I’m making fun of the movement…and I will bring SHAME UPON THE COMPANY I AM REPRESENTING. (Jk lol omg I’m legitimately nervous about writing about the “me too” movement in a lighter way…k byeee.)

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

WHOA!  MY NEW CRUSH WITH MY FAVORITE BAND?!?!

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When you call Comcast because your cable isn’t working and your wife snaps at you to “be nice!” once you start to get JUST THE TEENIEST BIT aggressive with their customer service rep.  If you’ve ever dealt with Comcast, you know that you HAVE to get aggressive to get what you want.  Telling someone mid-aggro to “be nice!” is a quick way to get your head chopped off.  (This has developed into a real fight between The VP and I and I WILL NOT BACK DOWN!)

GAMBLING IS MAYBE MY FAVORITE THING TO TALK ABOUT BUT I THINK IT’S KINDA’ BORING TO WRITE ABOUT MOST OF THE TIME SO I’M GOING TO KEEP THESE SHORT:

I bet the Cavs moneyline last night.  Can you all please just look up at the sky and think about how sorry for me you are?  Thank you.  And to JR Smith, I would like you to know that you let me and my future children down; because of your actions, they will have less bitcoin stock to help them get through college.  Hope our kids are cool with community college!  As for the rest of the series, I’m seeing a Warriors sweep now.  The Cavs looked like they lost they were eliminated from the universe in their postgame press conferences last night.

(My account currently at $0)

K bye.

 

 

Bachelorette Talk and Dog Baths (5/31/18)

OUR WORLD:

Yesterday’s blog was a little on the heavy side (oh my god, are you saying I’m fat?!) so today I decided to write about…CANCER AGAIN!  Wait, no, I mean “The Bachelorette” season premiere.  (Did he just joke about the Big C?  NOT COOL BRO!)  Yeah, let’s get a little light and loose and silly today, huh? LET’S GET BACK TO BEIN’ A BUNCHA GOOFS! (I think this blog sucks now…time to go back to scrolling Instagram and not getting caught by my boss.)

The VP and I were a little behind so we watched (initiating Chris Harrison fake excited voice…) THE SEASON PREMIERE OF “THE BACHELORETTE” on Tuesday night.  Now that I’ve had a day to digest what was a relatively underwhelming opening episode, I am here for all my sweet baby readers (I’M NOT A BABY!) with initial, but definitely right-on-the-money, takes and predictions for ALL of the guys.  Before I do that, however, (get ready for a lot of pictures!) let’s start with the bachelorette herself…

*REAL QUICK, I DO NOT LOOK UP SPOILERS AND I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR THEM.

Becca HerLastNameDoesntMatter:

Becca.jpg

She’s fine.  (HOT TAKE JIMMY IS IN THE BUILDING Y’ALL!!!)  There’s just nothing all that interesting about her.  She got dumped by Arie, has a hand tattoo and is somehow from a family in Minnesota that is OBSCENELY less attractive than she is.  Her sisters and Mother, like no offense, look ROUGH and you know they’ve got to want to blurt out “You know, Becca never looked like this before Hollywood got ahold of her.”  I don’t remember how old that sister with the frizzy hair is, but if that’s an older sister, their relationship is about to go down the tubes and into the sewer because that older uggo CANNOT be seen in the same room as Becca EVER. AGAIN.

Becca has also, somehow, made “Let’s do the damn thing!” as her catchphrase.  I have two thoughts on this: 1) If anyone I was around ever said “lets do the damn thing!” I would most definitely not do that damn thing because people that say that are LAME.  2)  If you replaced “damn” with “fuckin”, I would immediately think that Becca was WAY cool and would probably develop a lil’ baby crush on her.  Imagine if after she met the first guy out of a limo, she slapped him on the ass and yelled “Let’s do the fuckin’ thing!”  How awesome would she come off?  Nope, she stuck with ‘damn’ and outed herself as a LAME.  Also…real quick, real quick, how much can you root for a girl who was “head over heels” in love with that Professional Douche, Arie?  If I found out that The VP of Ops had been dumped by someone along those lines, let’s say Russell Brand, I would’ve judged her HARSHLY and probably gone back to living my CRAZY AWESOME SINGLE FUN-TIMES-ALWAYS!!!!LIFE (PARTY TIME USA 4EVA!)

With a certified “Meh” girl to go after, this show NEEDS some high-quality television characters in the guy pile.  Let’s see if we have any…I like to call this Jimmy’s “Rapid Fire Judgment Zone” aka “NOT PLANET FITNESS!” (If Planet Fitness sees this, I’m worried they’ll revoke my membership and I’ll be forced back into a gym with…like, nice facilities and less nerd B.O.)

Alex (GA)

Alex “Construction Manager” (Georgia):  The VP likes this guy because he’s southern and was wearing a pink shirt.  He was only in the background the whole show so he’ll be gone in NO TIME.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION: Kicked off in the next 2 shows and you’ll never think of him again in your entire life.

Blake (CO)

Blake “Sales Rep” (Colorado):  Bro, cool it with the smiling!  This guy is good looking but I’m getting a real creepy vibe from him because he NEVER STOPS SMILING!  I get it, all Colorado people are happy all the time cuz like “hang loose on the gnar pow!” but doesn’t your face hurt after holding a smile for 9 straight hours?!  Also, a “Sales Rep” who never stops smiling has HE’S TRICKING YOU written all over him.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  This guy will stick around for a while because he’ll talk about outdoor stuff with Becca.  She won’t pick him, but I’ll say he’ll make it to the final 8.

Chase FL

Chase “Advertising VP” (Florida): Weird hair. Weirder collar. GET OUT!

OFFICIAL PREDICTION: He was already kicked off.  He’ll go back to Florida and, for the next 4 months, will open every conversation with “Do you watch ‘The Bachelorette'”?

Chris (FL)

Chris “Sales Trainer” (Florida):  First off, way too many Florida guys this year.  That’s never a good sign.  This dude is SLIME CITY and if you don’t see that you are one blind bitch.  He trains people how to lie.  He’s a Master Liar.  (Wait…I work in sales too…but like it’s way different…completely different….)

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  We’ll all get to a point with him where we’ll be like “okay, this dude is full of shit, time to get rid of him!”  Then Becca will annoy us by keeping him around for 2 more episodes.

Christian Banker.jpg

Christian “Banker” (California):  Was this guy kicked off yet?  I think so.  If not, he will be.  He’s short and not in Superman shape, which in “Bachelorette”-terms is a “GONER!”

OFFICIAL PREDICTION: This guy knew he was gone the second he was picked for the show.  He should’ve just gotten bombed in the house tried to steal something.

Christian Globe.jpg

Christian “Former Harlem Globetrotter” (California):  This dude literally dunked on Becca and it was AWESOME.  He’s in my top 3 favorite guys so far.  Can they just have a part of every episode where he dunks on someone who’s not expecting it?  Like, out of nowhere, a hoop shows up and he’s posterizing one of the other guys.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  At some point, being a FORMER Harlem Globetrotter is going to catch up with him.  He’ll stick for like 3-4 more episodes and we’ll all be kinda’ sad when he leaves.

Clay

Clay “Football Player” (Illinois):  I know I’m supposed to love this guy cuz I love football and I’m from Illinois.  But…uhhhhhh….he’s a doof.  Professional athletes needing to go on a dating show is a major red flag.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  This is like the wrestler guy from the last “Bachelorette” who talked about his daughter way too much: he’s nice and he’ll stick around for a while, until Becca starts getting creeped out because he’s a little too nice.  Nice guys don’t finish last.  Nice guys who take it to the moon finish last because they have no personality aside from “just trying to make you happy.”  BLUGH.

Colton.jpg

Colton “Former Pro Football Player” (Colorado):  I’m going to be as honest with you all as I can be; I liked Colton until I found out he was a virgin.  Is that wrong? He’s 26 and was in the NFL and said something like “it’s not about a religious thing, it’s about finding the right woman.”  Jeez dude, relax and get laid FOR ONCE!

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  This guy will be in the final 3 and I’ll feel guilty all season for kinda not liking a guy who gets Cystic Fibrosis Vests for kids just because he’s a virgin.  THANK YOU COLTON!

connor

Connor “Fitness Coach” (Florida):  What the fuck is a “fitness coach”?  A trainer?  If he came up with that job title himself, RESPECK.  Fitness coach sounds way cooler than trainer.  This guy has good hair, but is it too high? IT’S PRETTY HIGH, GUYS!

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  He’ll hang until like final 8ish, then Becca will be like “yeah, his hair is too high.”

Darius.jpg

Darius “Pharmaceutical Sales Rep” (California):  This guy is another one who had to have known he was gone once he took a look at the other dudes there.  If you’re not stupid handsome OR funny, you’re in the deadzone.  HE GOT DEAD.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  He immediately regrets having been on this show when a Doctor makes fun of him for “being on that show my wife watches.”

Connor Venture

David “Venture Capitalist” (Colorado):  This is the guy in the chicken suit.  I know we’re supposed to think of him as “the funny guy” because he wore a chicken suit, but it wasn’t funny.  If he would’ve just clucked the whole show and refused to actually speak like a human, that would’ve been funny.  Instead, he just wore a chicken suit and didn’t do anything funny.  Also, he’s 25 and a “venture capitalist”?  Does that just mean he’s a rich kid looking for something to invest in? Not in on this dude.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  He’s gone in the next 3 episodes.  Once Becca is off-camera and realizes that she was just giving him courtesy laughs in the first episode, he’s doomed.

Garrett.jpg

Garrett “Medical Sales Rep” (Nevada):  Okay, I realize that I’m hating on most of these guys pretty hard and…it will continue with this guy.  Don’t you hate people that LOVE telling you how they’re “all about living in the moment”?  They can’t wait to talk about how FUN they are!  That’s Garrett.  Guess what, if you’re living in the moment you wouldn’t be telling people that you’re “living in the moment”…YOU’D JUST BE LIVING.  Did that get too meta? Also, much like Chicken Guy above, Garret was trying WAY too hard to be funny.  What’s funny about driving up in a van?  He has soccer balls and a baby seat in the back because…he wants that one day…THAT’S WEIRD!  Think of all of the guy friends you’ve EVER HAD IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE.  Now, would any of those guys do something like that? No, because you’ve never been friends with a certified weird WEIRDO.  He won the first impression rose which I thought was strange until I remembered that Becca is the same girl who was in love with Arie.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  He’ll make it to the Final 3 because Becca won’t want to admit how wrong she was.  As the season goes on, his fake smiles and fake laughs will begin to grate on you.

Grant

Grant “Electrician” (California):  I like this guy because he’s not OVERLY good looking and he’s an electrician.  That’s a real man job and if Becca knows what’s good for her she’ll let him her check her outlets (all the electricians reading this LOVE that joke.)

OFFICAL PREDICTION:  He didn’t get much screen time in the first episode so that probably means he’s gone in the next 2 weeks.  If I were him, I’d cut the power to the house when no one is looking and then act like a hero when I was the only one able to get the power back.  Real “look at me, I’m a blue collar hero”-move that he should DEFINITELY utilize.

Jake.jpg

Jake “Marketing Consultant” (Minnesota):  This is the guy Becca kinda knew from home.  She sent him packing because he didn’t make a move on her when they hung out or something?  It was weird/vague reasoning from her, so I was starting to feel bad for this guy.  Then, when the camera showed his face he looked like he was about to cry and I was out on him.  You can’t cry in the first episode; everyone knows this.

OFFICIAL PREDICTION:  Gonna be hard for this guy to overcome the “Cry Guy” label for the next few months.  If I saw him in a bar, I would be very tempted to go up to him and ask if he was okay, then run back to my friends laughing like a REAL BULLY.

*Okay, wow, there are a lot of dudes here.  I’ve gone through half.  I’ll get through the next half next blog.

MY WORLD:

I wrote a lot about personal things yesterday, so today’s will be a little shorter (is it about cancer again? Dear God, please say no!) I gave Belle a shower last night because our apartment doesn’t have a bath (stand-up shower people!) AND IT WAS DIFFICULT.

Since I feel uncomfortable being naked around my dog, I did it wearing gym shorts and once we were done I had ZERO idea how to try her off.  I really think it’s impossible to dry a hairy dog all the way off if you live in a smallish apartment.  We went through like 3 towels and I shot my hair dryer at her for at least 18 minutes and she was still sopping wet.  There needs to be a dog robe invention or…like some sort of bubble-boy contraption that I could wrap Belle in until she’s fully dry.

That’s it.  That’s my million-dollar idea. “Bubble-Dog”: An inflatable suit to put your dog in when they’re out of the shower.  You know that game where people get in those huge inflatable balls and roll down a hill or run into each other? It’s like that, but it closes around your dog’s entire body.  GODDAMNIT, YOU’VE DONE IT AGAIN JIMMY!

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I am V into the new CHVRCHES album.  Also, I have developed a very very very serious crush on the lead singer.  It’s serious guys, so like, please don’t show her my blog from yesterday.  Here’s my fave song off the album AND you get to hear my sweet love crush talk a little with the audience first.

 

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Getting a new driver license and totally botching the photo so you look like a psycho on your official ID for the next few years.

GAMBLING IS MAYBE MY FAVORITE THING TO TALK ABOUT BUT I THINK IT’S KINDA’ BORING TO WRITE ABOUT MOST OF THE TIME SO I’M GOING TO KEEP THESE SHORT:

I went on a tear.  Took $200 out of my account and put it into Bitcoin.  I honestly think I will someday get rich off of this.  Now, to the picks.  LeBron killed me in that Game 7.  I bet against him even though EVERYONE told me not to.  Now, I’m scared to bet against him.  The Warriors are giving 13 points and I think they should blow them out, but the Warriors have been sleepwalking through these playoffs.  I’m thinking the Cavs keep it somewhat close tonight, so lets roll with them.

(My account is currently at $20 ON THE NOSE!)

K bye.

 

 

 

 

Something We’ve Been Wanting To Get Off Our Chest…(5/30/18)

WHERE HAS THE CHAIR BEEN?!?!

A relatively young man, boy perhaps, scared of an actual battlefield, was presented with an opportunity to prove that courage was not among one of his seemingly countless allergies.  The roach scaled the wall the way a veteran climber would during a storm; deliberately.  Each step was carefully placed, making sure footing was stable before pushing off onto the next.  The older couple’s ignorance remained intact while squint-scanning a pasta menu.  Little did they know that their favorite restaurant was just like every other establishment they turned their noses up at; food, servers, and roaches.  There wasn’t time to react.  There was only time for courage in the form of a bare hand.  Without hesitation, the server opened his closed fist, as if he was high-fiving the wall in slow-motion, and nonchalantly pressed his splayed palm into the bug; smashing it between the wall and his naked hand.  He held the pose for 11 seconds, tricking the couple into thinking that he just needed a casual lean at the end of a long shift.  After answering the final menu questions they had for him, he pushed himself off the wall, making sure to scrape all the roach gut remnants from the wall with his murderous hand.  There could be no evidence of this.  The couple went back to bickering about what they should order. The server calmly walked to the kitchen sink in back, roach entrails lining the inside of his now-closed hand.  As he washed the evidence from his hands, he caught himself in the mirror.  Things were different now.

Once, when I was a server, I smashed a roach with my bare hand.  (Would’ve been nice if you saved us all the hassle of reading the above paragraph…) It was probably the bravest thing I’ve ever done.  That’s not much of an exaggeration, either (no one was doubting that, Jimmy, but thx!) Squealing like the scared baby that I am was not an option in a crowded restaurant, so killing this roach without hesitation was the only way to avoid making a real scene.  I still can’t believe I actually did it when what I really wanted to do was make a cry-face, say something like “oh my god EW!” and run over to a bigger, stronger ANYBODY while screaming “HELP!!!!!”   Nobody knew it happened!  If it sounds like I’m SUPER proud about this moment, it’s because I am…GLAD THAT’S COMING THROUGH!

I’m sorry I didn’t write last week, but I was busy being taught what actual bravery looks like.

About three years ago, I found a lump in The VPs boobie.  Boobs are supposed to be fun and that WAS NOT FUN!  We went and got it looked at and the docs told her to just come back every 6 months so they could keep an eye on it.  Didn’t seem like they were overly concerned, so that was nice.  The VP would go back every 6 months a few times and they’d basically tell her the same thing.  But then life got like supes distracting, y’all!  We got married, she got promoted, I got really incredibly good-looking after I rededicated myself to the gym and…The VP and I kinda’ forgot that she had a lump in her BOOBIE (my hope is that by capitalizing the word “Boobie” it makes this subject matter a little lighter…IS IT WORKING GUYS?!?!) 

Then, one day, I thought my tooth exploded while eating a burrito.  Thinking I was due for a root canal and major scary teeth stuff, I forced myself to go to the dentist…for the first time in like 5 years.  Is that gross?  Yeah, probably, but dentists are terrifying and everyone knows you don’t have to go until something hurts.  RIGHT?!?!  I’M A BABY, REMEMBER?!?! Something hurt, so I went.  And, guess what? It wasn’t THAT scary.  One cavity filling later, bravery street cred at an all-time high, I reminded The VP to get that lumperooski checked out again.

Hospitals are stupid scary and it’s not the smell or the art or the tile floors.  If all hospitals had your favorite band playing live, for free while giving away beers and backrubs, you’d still hate going to the hospital.  That’s why we should all be allowed to hit the person who says “I just hate hospitals.”  NO SHIT!  EVERYONE HATES HOSPITALS!  And, spoiler alert, there are some parts within these hospitals that are scarier than others.  The VP’s appointment was in one of these scarier areas.  But, I got a cavity filled so I could talk to her about being brave.  (Ever look back at something you did and are so embarrassed that you think about legally changing your name so you can just start from scratch?  That’s me looking back at this.)

In early May, The VP and I went to the Breast Cancer Screening wing at the hospital to get her lump checked out again.  The car ride there was the kind of quiet you get when trying to act casual in a stressful situation.  Funny thing about not acknowledging stress is that it doesn’t go away.  And when I say “funny thing,” you know I mean “a thing that’s not funny at all and just weighs you down,” right?  Good, glad we’re on the same page.  The VP was so cool, guys.  She made a few jokes about my stupid sunglasses and kept asking if it was okay that I was missing a couple hours of work that morning to go with her.  She talked about where we should get breakfast when it was done and what shows we should start watching that night.  I believe The VPs itinerary that day read: wake up, have a coffee, get boob lump checked at the scary wing in the downtown hospital, take a pee, join the military, stop a carjacking in process, dance on the ledge of a tall building, have some eggs.  At least something along those lines.  She was fine: a fucking badass with a southern accent and a ponytail.  They called her name and she was off into the back.

I got to watch an episode of “The Price is Right” in the waiting room.  The jumping and screaming of strangers on the television didn’t settle my nerves.  So I scanned Twitter and tried to watch funny Instagram videos without the volume because I didn’t have my headphones and you’re a psycho if you have the volume up on your phone in public.  (I’M NOT A PSYCHO!) 

It didn’t really work, though.  The other horrible thing about hospitals is that your mind goes to the darkest places way too easily.  And when you have the internet at your fingertips, those darkest places seem inevitable after a simple Google search.  My mom has been through cancer twice, really rough both times, and I learned the lesson of not going to the internet…and, yet, I still went to the internet.  If you don’t think internet addiction is a real thing, then do me a favor and get the hell away from me because YOU DENY THE WORLD!  So with The VP in the back, my brain and heart volleyed between forceful optimism and paralyzing fear of the unknown. Drew Carey’s annoying voice and stupid fucking glasses played the soundtrack.

The VP walked out of the exam shrugging her shoulders and walking kinda’ fast.  When I asked how it went, she gave me a “it’s fine.  It’s fine.”  When I pressed for details, however, she told me that we had to wait to talk until we were outside.  This is also known as the “oh, fuck”-moment.  She was repressed manic at this point.  I hope I’m not saying that to normalize how I was feeling, but I think it’s accurate.  As we got away from other people waiting on other results, she told me that the doctors wanted her to come back for a biopsy: the lump had shown “substantial growth” and may be breast cancer.

The next available appointment for a biopsy was 22 days later.

Which meant that the next three weeks were for worrying, pretending everything is fine while at work and in front of friends, and then distracting ourselves with television and alcohol.  I would do check-ins and ask how she was feeling about stuff every few days and she would almost always respond that she was “okay.”  There was not a truly enjoyable day in those 22.  It was about managing fears and staying positive in the face of the unknown and the goddamn, unrelenting internet.

My job, which consists of a lot of alone time behind the wheel (wait, is Jimmy a tire fixer?!?!), wasn’t great for these few weeks.  For me, alone time means imagination time and, normally, that equates to daydreams centered around “what if I had REALLY dedicated myself to golf when I was younger?  Could I have been pro by now?”  Imagination time, alone in the car, is when I get to picture my life being WAY better than it is now: cooler car, better hair, bigger bank account…maybe less insecurities?  But for these weeks, “imagination time” morphed into me thinking about how lucky I am to have the life I do with The VP of Ops and how scary and SUCKY any other life would be for me.

“Game of Thrones” helped.  Remember when I wrote about how we had gotten into that show?  THIS IS WHY!  I knew we needed a HIGHLY engrossing show to distract the both of us from the upcoming biopsy, so it was time to dive into the world of dragons and war and….like, a lot of nudity.  (Quick aside: anyone else get a little uncomfortable watching all the sex scenes in “Game of Thrones” with your significant other?  We’re not prudes, but I feel like I’m back in high school watching these scenes next to The VP.  Sometimes, during the middle of one of these RACY scenes, I’ll catch her looking at me out of the corner of my eye and I’ll just blurt out “NOTHING! I JUST CARRY THIS TEXTBOOK WITH ME BECAUSE I LIKE READING IT SOMETIMES! NOTHING!”)  Between Khalisi and Drago and Ned Stark and Joffrey (WHAT A DICK!) and allowing ourselves that extra glass of wine or scotch; we were somewhat able to distract ourselves.

When the day of the biopsy finally arrived, we had settled into a new normalcy of drinking a little too much and staying up a little too late watching “GOT”.  Not knowing what was going on with The VPs lumperoni was normal, and somehow after 3 weeks, the not knowing had become somewhat comforting.  If you don’t know something bad is going on, then maybe nothing bad is going on?  I went into coach-mode throughout, giving her pep talks that I believed 1000%…and then I would call my Mom for a similar pep talk directed at me.  The power of positive thinking was always something I sneered at as a sarcastic college kid.  Then my mom got sick and all she asked was that we surround her with positivity.  It fucking works, guys.

On the way to the hospital on biopsy day, The VP was nervous.  There were tears the night before.  She blamed the tears on a fear of needles.  Belle and I did our best to give her hugs and calm her down.  It wasn’t panic on her part; it was more of a plea to any higher power that may be listening her desire to go back to living a normal, underpaid but well-loved life.  I take it back, not knowing was never normal; it was awful.  How the hell was The VP having to stare cancer in the face when she has never had a cigarette or chewing tobacco or…worked in a coal mine?  It should be me: the guy who smoked through college, but justified it by “only doing it when I drink”…only to move on to chewing tobacco, but justifying by “only doing it when I golf…or am with friends…or am away from The VP.”  ‘God Damn It’ is a term I thought of a lot in these few weeks and then immediately apologized for because we needed all the help we could get.  Religion and believing in things that are bigger than you are easy targets for humor, I get it; I’ve done it.  But when the chips are down, you’re fuckin’ right I’m talking to someone that I pray has more say than I do.  I talked to God and my dead Grandma every single one of those 22 days; never more than I did while in the waiting room later that morning.

They came to take The VP into the back right when we got there.  Let’s rip this band-aid off.  I told her that she wouldn’t feel a thing and reminded her that all of the awful things she had been through up until now prove that she is tougher than she gives herself credit for.  There was the time she broke her leg and the time she got mugged and the time she split her ankle open and the time she moved to a completely new city without a job and made an entire life for herself.  She could handle a big, dumb needle to the boob.  Then she went in back and I started talking to people in my head.

I made deals in my head about things I would never do again and other things I would stop putting off.  If these were true negotiations; I wouldn’t have said no to anything if it meant this biopsy didn’t hurt the way The VP feared it might.  (Thankfully, God didn’t ask for my flat screen television…)  “The Price is Right” wasn’t on this time; instead, I was treated to “The Today Show” on the waiting room TV.  Granted, I wasn’t in the best of mindspace at this point, but that Hoda lady is insufferable.  Can’t we just put videos of animals doing cute things on waiting room televisions?  I went back to the scary world wide web in hopes of finding stories where biopsies felt good and always came back showing no signs of cancer.  (Thanks for nothing, internet.)

The VP of Ops bopped out from the back about 45 minutes later with big eyes and a bigger smile.  The biopsy didn’t hurt!  They didn’t have immediate results, though.  We’d have to wait another “1 to 2 days” for them to call her with the results.  More waiting was okay because you celebrate small steps when dealing with health issues.  She had gotten through a big, hollow needle in the boob with a smile on her face.  Time to go celebrate with pancakes (she actually got quinoa cakes for breakfast, but “celebrating with pancakes” sounded better than “celebrating with quinoa cakes.”)

She chilled at home for the rest of the day and I went back to work.  Neither of us had told anyone what was going on this entire month aside from our parents.  I definitely wanted to, but “I’m scared my wife may have breast cancer” is a tough conversation starter. We had another 1 to 2 days of keeping this secret before it would either go away or become another scarier thing entirely.  We stayed up REAL late that night watching “GOT”.

We both went to work the next day not knowing when “the call” would come.  I was in charge of training a new employee and The VP was to manage an admin staff and book flights for bosses because booking your own flight is too fucking stressful for some people apparently.  I imagined her listening to higher-ups complain about how stressful their travel schedules had been that day and got angry at my desk just thinking about it.  I may have planned exactly what I’d say to these people the next time I got to see them.  You could say I was handling this stress AGGRESSIVELY.

At exactly 1:25 PM, The VP called to say that her doctor had just given her “good news.”  No cancer.

So we got to go back to breathing again.  I let out the most heartfelt “FUCK YEAH!” I’ve ever said and my eyes welled up.  She giggled a little because I guess you can’t yell “Fuck Yeah” when you work in a tall office building.  I told her how proud of her I was, and am, and we talked about the power of positive thinking and the AMAZING PEOPLE THAT WORK IN HOSPITALS.  Holy crap, those people are a higher breed than human.  The VP will have surgery to get the lumperooski removed and that won’t be the most fun time ever, but she’ll be fine.  And we’re thrilled to go back to living our normal, boring, well-loved lives.

I’m sorry I didn’t write last week; this was why.  And I meant to post this yesterday, but it ran long and I wanted to make sure I wrote it the way I wanted to.

I wanted to write this because when we were in the midst of waiting and being scared and getting trapped in the panic room of “imagination time,” I would search the internet looking for an uplifting story.  Maybe this can be that for some people.  The whole thing sucked because stress stinks and hospitals are scary.  But, I got to see my wife act like a brave, grown woman in the face of an adversity that would bring me to secret tears in public bathrooms.  She bit her lip, nodded and carried on.  I got to see this with my Mom during her two bouts with cancer, and it’s the absolute most inspiring thing you can ever see.  As much as it sucks to be going through, getting to see understated, everyday courage in those closest to you is amazing.  It deepened my love and appreciation for my Mom and it has done the same now for my wife.

Someday, this big scary world wide web will allow our kids to read about how their Dad wanted to cry when he saw a roach and how their Mom laughed after a biopsy.  And I couldn’t look more forward to being outed as the wimp in our boring, too-small, but well-loved home.

I love you Erin.

 

Procrastination Nation and Under-The-Radar TV (5/17/18)

MY WORLD:

Are you a procrastinator?  ME TOO!  Sometimes I’ll go on like 3 week spurts where I’ll be super productive and “ahead of the curve” and then…oh, I don’t know, The VP and I will start “Game of Thrones” AND PUSH EVERYTHING ELSE TO THE SIDE.  All of a sudden, it’s Mid-May and both my drivers license (“license” is a hard word to spell FYI.  I’ve never gotten it right on the first try) and my city sticker expire in June.  Which means, folks, that I’ve basically missed the deadline to renew both of these by mail and now I need to go to the DMV in-person.  WAY TO GO, ME!  WAY TO ADD AN ABSOLUTELY MISERABLE CHORE TO YOUR LIFE BECAUSE YOU CAN’T PLAN AHEAD!  LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I GIVE YOU JIMMY “THE ASSHOLE IDIOT” POMERANTZ; GIVE HIM A ROUND OF APPLAUSE!!!

The most messed up part of this whole situation is that I remember getting a reminder about renewing my city sticker a few months back, looking at it and saying to myself “I’m probably gonna forget to do this until the last second and, therefore, force myself to go to the DMV in person.”  Seriously, I remember it like it was yesterday.  The only thing is, it was funny then, and it’s NOT FUNNY now.  When I was a boy in schooling (I don’t know why, but saying “when I was a boy in schooling” with a British accent is making me laugh V hard) I remember all of the sleek justifications for procrastination.  The schooling I’m talking about, mind you, was when I was in grad school for screenwriting (I’M LIVING MY DREAM!).  A bunch of my classmates and I would read stories of famous writers who would talk about how “all writers are procrastinators” that our framed procrastination as being almost necessary to become a successful writer.  Guess what, guys? That was total bullshit.  All writers aren’t procrastinators.  All writers get nervous when they don’t have anything to write about and then they distract themselves from facing the blank white screens because it white = failure.  DROPPIN’ TROOF BOMBS Y’ALL!

I, however, am a legitimate, red-blooded American procrastinator, and here are the things I constantly find myself addressing either at the last minute or…after the last minute…Is this an attempt to take the sting out of my failures by finding fellow procrastinators?  YOU BETCHA!

Buying toilet paper before I run out

I thought I’d get better at this after college…then after living with 3 dudes…then after getting married…and I’m still terrible at it.  If I was in a job interview tomorrow and they asked “what are some of your weaknesses?” I would be forced to tell them about how often the paper towel roll ends up in my bathroom.  It’s sad how I’ve perfected the art of tearing apart the plies of paper towel so as not to clog the toilet with a too-absorbent tissue.  Usually, it’ll take about 3 days of me walking into the bathroom and seeing the paper towel roll awkwardly hanging off the toilet paper holder for me to make a trip to CVS to rectify the situation.  Could The VP of Ops step in here and make a trip herself? Yes, but she has the FANTASTIC excuse of “well, I don’t have a car.”  For as useful as having a car is, I do wonder if the excuses I’d be able to unlock by NOT having one would be more beneficial…

Doing the laundry before I’m forced to wear the emergency pair of loose boxers

Past the age of 27, most men make the switch from boxers to boxer briefs.  Screw a Bat Mitzvah, this is when a boy becomes a man!  (Bar Mitzvah? Bat Mitzvah? You get what I’m saying.)  However, we all keep like one pair of boxers to be worn “just in case”, and that “just in case” is just in case we put off doing laundry to the point where we run out of clean boxer briefs to wear.  The “Just In Case”-Boxers will be kept in most men’s underwear drawer for a minimum of 49 years.  (Mine are from mid-college.  The elastic is BARELY working and they have multi-colored christmas trees all over.  If you happen to catch a glimpse of these peeking out above the waistband of my jeans someday, best keep your distance).  It’s not flattering, and we know that, BUT! Who’s gonna see them?  Seriously, it’s like having a fire extinguisher in your house; you hope you never have to use it, but you’re happy it’s there just in case.  These loose, awful feeling boxers are also kinda’ necessary because they do FORCE me to do laundry that same day.  Going into day 2 wearing my loose, christmas tree trunks is an absolute nightmare scenario.  NIGHTMARE. SCENARIO.

Checking my credit card balance before it gets declined at a restaurant and I act super surprised in front of everyone that heard the waiter tell me “this one didn’t work”

I JUST DON’T WANNA LOOK!  Quick aside: The VP hates when I talk about money stuff.  She’ll say “I don’t want people to think we’re living under a bridge!”  We’re not living under a bridge.  We’re actually doing relatively TOTALLY FINE, but that doesn’t stop me from throwing EVERYTHING on my Citi card so I can get POINTS POINTS POINTS!!!  (I’m a slave to points, guys.)  But then, what’ll happen is, I know I’m getting close to my limit but I put off looking at my account online because I don’t want to have to face how much I’ve spent on Cliff Bars and Waters (and candy) at 7-11 over the past 10 days.  When I do finally go to check my account online, I definitely hold my breath and wince while the “recent transactions” page loads.  Sometimes I just get so nervous that I bail out of the site before it loads (‘load’ is a funny word).  Much the way girls do, I have a “that time of the month” period where every time I hand over my Citi card (free advertising…maybe throw some points my way?) it’s a roll of the dice.  I’ll try to watch the server at the computer terminal to see if they’re running the card more than once.  If it’s more than once, I’m dead.  If they’re shaking their head or rubbing the strip on the back of the card, also dead.  If I can see this ahead of time, though, I at least have however long it takes them to get back to the table to come up with a feasible excuse.  “Weird, I thought I activated that one”-is a go to.  However, if I’m unable to see them at the computer terminal, and they sneak up on me from behind with the “I’m sorry sir, but there seems to be an issue with your card”-I’ll momentarily panic.  My instinct is to shoot a flared-nostrils look at The VP and yell “RUN!!!” Unfortunately, The VP is simply not fast enough to keep up with me.  Knowing this, I’ll usually just make some self-deprecating joke about how expensive my Peanut M&Ms habit has become.

OUR WORLD:

Are we all officially overwhelmed with the amount of television choices?  Over the past few weeks, while proudly crowing about how The VP and I had finally started “Game of Thrones”, I was normally met with a “oh that’s nice, but you HAVE to check out this show!”  If you can’t tell, I love T.V.  We all love T.V.  I’m not even counting the people who say “I don’t own a TV” because they are not people…they are animals (TOPICAL JOKE ALERT!!!)  

But sometimes too much of a good thing is bad.  (Is that the saying?)  I say this because I was planning on writing reviews of G.O.T. (that’s how cool people refer to “Game of Thrones”.  I’m part of that club now.  AND, YEAH, IT’S A BIG EFFIN’ DEAL!!!)  but then I realized that nobody would want to read reviews of a show that are SEVEN YEARS TOO LATE.  My bad on that one.

So, if like me, you’re feeling overwhelmed by every one of your friends telling you to watch a different Netflix show, I’ve compiled a list of OLDER/UNDER-THE-RADAR shows and movies that hold up.  I’m guessing you haven’t seen these or, if you have, its been so long since you have that re-watching them would be like watching them for the first time.  These are not in any order because I don’t want to get into that bullshit.  They’re just good (or I’ve heard they’re good from V reliable sources).  Giddy up!

  1.  “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip” (NBC TV Series):  It’s just good. (I know, I watched it.)
  2.  “Deadwood” (HBO TV Series):  I’ve heard it’s good from V reliable sources.
  3.  “In Bruges” (Movie): It’s just good.  (I know, I watched it.)
  4.  “Boss” (Starz TV Series):  It’s just good. (I know, I watched it.)  
  5.  “Reno 911” (Comedy Central TV Series):  It’s just great.  (This show is way too overlooked when the topic of “best comedy series” of the past 20 years comes up.  This is in the discussion.  TRUST!)
  6.  “Adaptation” (Movie):  It’s just fantastic. (An all-time great screenwriter + Nicolas Cage at his best = YUP!)
  7.  “Moon” (Movie):  Think “The Martian” but grittier and more realistic.  Sam Rockwell is the most underrated actor going right now.
  8.  “Terriers” (FX TV Series):  I’ve heard it’s good from V reliable sources.
  9.  “Rescue Me” (FX TV Series):  It’s great and it has been long enough for me now that it’s entering into the “may be time to re-watch that”-category.
  10.  “Zodiac” (Movie):  The more I remember this movie, the more I think I loved it.  Downey Jr and Gyllenhaal at their best.

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Top 5 Funny TV Character is “Terry” from “Reno 911”

 

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When a new person moves into the apartment below you and thinks that talking outside on speakerphone at 11:49 P.M. on a Wednesday night is appropriate.  (ANGRY OLD MAN ALERT!)

I DON’T WANT TO BRAG BECAUSE I’VE BEEN ON A REAL HEATER TO THE POINT WHERE I’M GOING TO ACTUALLY WITHDRAW FROM MY GAMBLING ACCOUNT, AND PUT THOSE WINNINGS INTO BITCOIN.  THIS IS NOT A JOKE, I’M A BITCOIN INVESTOR NOW AND I’M THRILLED ABOUT GETTING TO RIDE THE WAVE ON MY WAY TO BECOMING MEGA-STINKY-RICH.

I mean, I think the new section title says it all.

(My account currently at $327.55)

K bye.