[Please insert your 527 ad here]

Rewind 4 years to the year 2000. I am in NYC flipping between CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News as they called the election for Gore and then Bush and then they all took it back. I remember watching and reading about the recount fiasco…I remember the hanging chads, the pregnant chads, the swollen chads. I remember the political operatives storming the offices where the counting was being done...I remember people shouting obscenities at each other…I remember the signs…I remember the emotions…I remember wanting to be part of the chaos…

Fast forward to the year 2004…My dream has become reality…I am not in a BLUE or RED state where the election is already decided. I am not in the bleacher seats with the common folk...Oh yes, its true…I am in a swing state baby!!!

I got to tell you it feels great to be wooed…You actually feel like somebody when every one is trying to register you outside of a supermarket. I don’t think I was prouder of general Voter Registration efforts than when the strippers at Club Madonna (shout to Xtian, little big head, and ScottyPark) asked me if I had registered to vote…I like taking people down a peg or two by giving them thumbs down or the finger whenever I pass a corner with people trying to rally their base...

I have been involved in non-partisan registration drives…I tried really hard to score tickets for the first presidential debate… I have seen signs being taken down, ripped to pieces…I have seen all sorts of graffiti and obscenities on posters, banners, cars and home-made signs… I have seen all sorts of metaphors and imagery involving wolves, eagles and ostriches…I have been seen every single 527 ad out there whether it’s Swift Vets for truth, Moveon.org, the Media fund, or Porn stars for Kerry.

On Friday, I was stuck in traffic as Bette Midler, Bruce Springsteen and Kerry led a rally as I made my way in downtown Miami with a date (story to come later). Today I had George drive right in front of my house with his 50 motorcycles, 25 black and white SUVs with 2 story high antennas, and silent black helicopters flying overhead…Laura waved to me from the Presidential limo and I promptly return the gesture…I don’t know if the secret service will be paying me a visit because my gesture involved the use of the middle finger….we will see.

Anyways, Florida has had early voting going on for the past week or two but I am waiting until Election day to vote…I want to be at my polling station come Tuesday and see what sort of chaos develop. I want to stand in line for two-three hours with a copy of Maxim (if this month’s issue has been read by the time election time rolls around, Maxim will be substituted with Hustler) under the sweltering sun and yell obscenities and go on long winded tirades to any international observers or party lawyers or press that may be at my polling station and tell them that one of the primary reasons I left my third-world country was to escape communism or imperialism or terrorism or any other isms I could throw out so I could vote and have my ballot counted.

I am going to finally make it inside and then I am going to stand in front of one of those new shiny electronic voting machines. I will take as long as possible until a poll worker offers to help me. I will refuse any help he/she decides to offer saying that “no, no I got this..its just like my ATM machine” or “I don’t know who to vote for” or “sorry but I haven’t made my mind on Proposition 7”…

I am then going to stand a little bit longer with a puzzled look in my face…I will smack the machines a bit, lift them up, look on the sides, look in the back…I will then ask an inexperienced poll worker that my voting machine its not printing out a receipt for me. They will tell me that there are no receipts printed. I will ask them how are they going to do a recount if there is no record. I will tell them how my local ATM prints out a receipt and that I am not leaving until I get a receipt for my vote.

I will eventually get hungry and go home and eat some cheese. I will then relieve the year 2000 by flipping between CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News until a clear winner is firmly declared the next day around 1:00 PM or so…I think that’s the way it will turn out.

Of course, I am ardently hoping that no one obtains an absolute majority of electoral votes for president. I am crossing my fingers, salivating at the lips at the slim chance that electoral college ends up tied 269 to 269 and that our glorious House of Representatives gets to pick the next leader of the free world…

What a glorious fucking civics lesson that would be!!

Evil

Getting fired because of your blog sucks. That's why everyone should have nicknames.

Evil

WILD ON... LONDON



Impromptu Team Rachel gathering in London this week. Except that the role of Big Head will be played by Raihan (who shall henceforth by known as The International Man of Mystery -- or TIMOM). Why isn't XTIAN going to be there you ask? Well, we are all asking the same question. First of all, this guy has like 6 weeks of use-it-or-lose-it vacation to take before Dec 31. You do the math. Secondly, this guy has been employed for 6+ months now and hasn't been asked to do a lick of work. I am not sure what's keeping him away from London, but my guess is that there's some kind of tension between XTIAN and Mr. Shoulders.

This London trip is already looking dubious for me. First of all, I can't seem to find any hotel for under $400/night USD. If that's how much hotels are going for, I don't even want to think about how much hookers-with-decent-teeth are going to cost. Secondly, I have no idea where I'm supposed to be in London. It turns out that Yahoo Maps and Mapquest don't work for London. Now what? I found this other maps of London but the streets are CRAZY LOOKING, sort of like Boston, except on crack. I give myself a 25% chance of actually getting to this meeting I need to be at.

Anyway, assuming I actually get there, I might take some pics and post them for you -- my loyal readers -- next week. Laterz, suckas.

Evil

Everywhere I go, people ask me, What is The Hose? What IS The Hose? Well, it's time to set the record straight.

The Hose is low in carbs. The Hose is an American Revolution. From the creators of Shrek... The Hose. The Hose is not yet rated. The Hose starts December 1st, in theaters everywhere. Sign up now, and get a free month of The Hose. The Hose is everything you want, you got it. Prepare for the season premier... television's biggest hour... The Hose. If you're counting calories, drink The Hose. Be sure to tell The Hose what medicines you are taking. If you are taking an MAOI or pimozide, you should not take The Hose. Side effects may include upset stomach, trouble sleeping, dry mouth, and massive hard-ons. Experience the power within. The Hose. No luxury brand holds its value better than The Hose. The perfect marriage of beauty and brains. As easy as rinsing, as effective as flossing. The Hose is part of a healthy lifestyle. We want your children to live long and healthy lives. The clean crisp taste of brewery-fresh. Choosy moms -- and dads -- chose The Hose. Experience the power within.

From the NY Times, an article about Ralph Nader:

'So he spoke for nearly 90 minutes at a news conference, thrashing the "two-party electoral dictatorship of this country" and calling President Bush "a chicken hawk, draft-dodging, messianic militarist presiding over a no-fault government."'

Because I live in Chelsea, I know that a chicken hawk, in addition to being the petulant little fellow that followed around Foghorn Leghorn on the Looney Tunes cartoons is also a term in gay culture.

chicken-hawk - an older gay man who prefers the company of much younger gay men.

(all manner of bad photoshopping to follow)

Please move Boston over there, next to the Yankees...In that column there...Yes...PERFECT!

Over the past couple of year, instead of rooting for porous defense and sub-par pitching of my team, I have come to support baseball's GOOD STORIES. And nothing was a better story than the Red Sox! Here were a bunch of maniacs who seemed to revel in misery and only found peace when shooting themselves in the foot (hey! That sounds familiar...). They were a bunch of babied millionaires sure, but they did not seem to own a set of hair clippers between them. The Yankees of course, had the history and the twenty six titles and Derek Jeter is the consummate professional and blah blah! The Red Sox had Manny, who sauntered, Manny who could throw a guy out from deep left field with the same frequency he let a grounder get by him out there. Not only that but they lost, and not only did they loose, the lost SPECTACULARLY. They lost and you felt for them (assuming you were like me and you hated the Yankees). I couldn't give a crap about these guys unless they're playing the Yankees. Because when they lost it was dramatic and you felt it. Aaron Boone felt like a punch in the stomach. This is a metaphoric punch to the stomach, the punch to the stomach that Darren, Jeff and I saw a drug dealer lay on his girlfriend at the bar we in Oakland we watched the game at.

Yesterday was it for me because then they won! The hell!? I did not watch more than three pitches of the World Series (Pedro's pitches, of course) Who needs that, what about the curse? What about the Yankees? I don't show up trying to root for winners, I show up rooting for self defeat and scruffy batting helmets and crazy hair.

The worst part is, The Red Sox won, because unlike in previous years where they got out maneuvered by the Yanks. This year they beat the yanks at their own game. Getting the big name pitcher (Schilling) in the winter and picking up a bunch of guys for the stretch run ( Mankeiskzizkkqiwitz and Cabrera). So what does that make them?

The New Yankees! F*CK THAT! Stop this train I'm getting off.

I hate their f*cking fans anyway!

Evil

Dear God,

Whatup yo? How's the weather up in heaven? You think the winter will be mild this year? We've had two mild winters in a row in New York. Is it the Ozone layer, or were you just giving us a break? Anyway, dude... God, I was just watching the World Series. I take it you weren't watching. Were you distracted by something? The Red Sox won! Holy crap. Was it Mrs. God? Did she pull you away for the last 10 days? Perhaps you can undo this whole thing. A Mulligan. God gets Mulligans, no?

Be square with me, God. Who do you like better... me or Kentaro? Kentaro. Right. I figured as much. I don't get it though. Why Kentaro? Why Wilmer Valerrama? Why Michael Douglas? Why Mark Cuban? Why not me? Is it because my name is Evil? DUDE! That's just a nickname! Don't take it literally, yo.

So here's the deal... I was hoping you could help me out with a couple of things. Please. It would make a big difference. If you don't help me out, I might have to write a sad ass letter to Oprah. So anyway, here's what I'd like:

1. For my scrotum to sit nicely when I sit.

2. For this wacky open sore on my lip to go away.

3. For my mom to love me.

4. For anyone to love me, actually. (Not counting Manolo. That dude is a big fag.)

5. An all-access trip to the set of Sesame Street.

6. The phone number of a reliable drug dealer.

7. The respect, fear, and awe of young children.

8. Five golden rings.

9. The ability to fly.

10. Peace... or Reeses Pieces. Either one. I loooove Reeses Pieces.

Thanks God. You're the best!

Did the Red Sox actually Win the World Series???

Well, it finally happened...being a Yankee fan I was shocked when they beat NY in the ALCS but the fact that they just swept the Cards is an indication that the inevitable is happening.

Hell is freezing over...the world is going to end...

As a result, after some consultation via IM with a lawyer, I have taken the liberty of drafting an online last will and testament for members and readers of the Hose..

To Charles - A hug and a kiss (perhaps he will stop hating himself and white people and muslims and jews and hispanics and asians and everybody else so much. You have to start by loving yourself...I mean emotionally and not the physical way you do 4-5 times a day)

To Jweb - I leave him my 40 GB porno collection. (That man has his priorities straight...)

To Rina - Front seat at my funeral (Pretend we did it and it was good)

To Balls - To my freaking bastard irish white boy from boston I leave him a big FUCK U!

To RadicalVirgoChick - An invitation to spend our last days on Earth doing it...with me of course.

To Sleeve, Cheo, and other assorted readers - I am not giving you anything since I ran out of stuff BUT I will leave you with the admiration and respect that you already have for me...

To Xtian - I give him ALL my voting / non-voting shares of the Hose Inc. giving him majority control of the stock and full management control...

To the future Mrs. Evil - My approval and blessing in their holy union. Also, some cream to take care of that rash of his...

To Evil - I leave him Xtian (Editor's Note: Evil doesn't want him and gave him back. If no one claims him soon, he will have to be put down)

Where is everyone?


What's going on? Where's Evil at? Crumping somewhere? Sleeve is covering the beisbol for mlb.com so he's excused. But what's the story here? Can Pacey step up and write something funny. The schmoe gets on the phone and does a 5 minute bit on Real World/Road Rules-Battle of the Sexes, but can't be bothered to get off his bum and write it down?

Clownery...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Xtian executes a PERFECT Cut and Run!

The single greatest picture from Balls' wedding, taken seconds after Xtian rips his blazer off the back of a very cold Wendy (asian girl center)..makes a number of excuses, issues a solid thumbs up and hauls ass uptown...

.

The full story is here

The Greatest Play in Bar History



What makes the play so outstanding is that no one had to call it. It just unfolded naturally. But some background first:

A few years ago, during training, Evil and I started running the "crowding play". We'd probe bars for attractive women and on the off chance one reacted well to our silly comments, we both converge (read - pounce) on her and back her into a corner under the rain of silly one liners and inside jokes only he or I would understand. Clearly a flawed idea.

But this time, we were tight and on point. I attribute it to the disciple that the Marlboro Man brought to the table. His experience in the military was incredibly helpful in this situation as he leveraged his observational techniques to (1) pick up the play I decided to run and (2) support this play by both sealing off a tooly short guy who was making a pitch and doing so in a incredibly uncharsimatic way.

Evil contributed by playing it off real evil-like. He heard the tooly short guy went to Wharton and immediately drifted into his own preposterous b school applications and how he wrote with great emotion about teaching "an incredibly obese woman with tourettes syndrome" how to use a computer but in a increasingly condesending way.

With all the downfield blockers sealed off (see the red line), I proceeded to make my move. Who are you? What's your story? where do you work? why are you so hot? Do you know this guy or that guy? Oh you do? Can I smell your hair? I know him/her too? From around here? Nice...would you marry me? I dunno, have not spoken to him a in while. Hah, yes I did see Jon Stewart on Crossfire that was great...and I love you...I do sort of think its a cop out that Jon keeps calling himself a comedian yes.

But ultimately, I failed. I failed the way xtian famously fails. The tooly fellow, broke the tackles and proceeded to pull the "lets share a cab ride back uptown" move. Which in football is the equivalent of knocking the ball loose as I'm running with it towards the sidelines in the closing minutes.

The Marlboro Man (who would be my new sideman for life after watching his deft skills in action if he weren't leaving to Germany for ever) just looked up and said "man, i was pulling for you" and Evil, much less supportively, agreed "Dude, you dropped the ball. I had that guy talking crappy b school essays for as long as humanly possible"

Evil

Please what these videos of Japanese girls bitchslapping each other and TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?!

WWJ(S)D?

It's a good question. What would happen if Jon Stewart stepped outside the trappings of a show on Comedy Central and shared some honest insight, relatively Sarcasm free?

He would start choking the shit out of bow-tied dicks and their baggy eyed sidekicks is what.

You can watch the whole exchange here. Pay attention as he calls Tucker Carleson a Dick as they cut to commercial.

Evil

SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE THIS GUY

Evil



COLUMBUS, Ohio, Oct 17 -- President George W. Bush, campaigning in swing states and swinging The Presidential Wee-Wee.

Evil



JEFFERSONVILLE, Ohio, Oct. 16 -- While on the campaign trail, Democratic Presidential Nominee John Kerry meets The John Kerry of Pumpkins.

Evil

FOURTH TIER PHOTOSHOPPING

The Red Sox are playing like clowns out there. Is it the shoes?!?

Someone Stop Her!

Evil

I found my Halloween costume!!!

My Train Ride is Too Short.

Back in my younger days, first job in NY. I used to have this horribly long train ride. I would have to walk like 15 minutes to the subway at 86th and Lex and then take the express all the way down to Broad St. It was crazy. The whole ride (if you count the then daily stoppage somewhere between 42 and 14th ST) could take up to 1.5 hours. Some days i would leave the apt at 7 and get to work at 9:10, when pressured from my manager I would raise my fists and defiantly scream out something like

"Damn you! Dr. DOOM!! DAMN YOU AND YOUR VILE TIME ADVANCEMENT RAY!"

And then i would be left alone fists still shaking violently as security loomed in the distance.

The upside of these disasterous rides is that I could pound through a book in a week. My old roommate, Sparkes, used to be shocked at the volume of reading I did. He would say things like

"Dude, between all the stalking, binging, purging and drinking, how do you have time to read?"

A fair question, and one I would only let a brother that I love, get away with. Pacey/The Bumpasaurus is another type of brother, i.e. the one i don't love and at best tolerate (HAH! Have mom beat that, bro!)

But now, I'm in a quandry. Still drinking, still stalking...but my subway ride is 15 minutes. I have been walking around with the same 1000 pg book for two weeks. My bag has a dent in it.

Someone please help!

Next - Wanted: someone to hold me

Evil

IT'S ROUGH BEING ME...

Lately, my scrotem has decided not to cooperate with my underwear and the rest of my crotch area. Everything is rubbing the wrong way all day long and I can't figure out how to rectify this situation.

Erections I have dealt with in the last month that can't really be explained simply

(1) Walking down the street in Atlanta, while hearing someone describe her experience seeing "The School of Athens"
(2) Standing outside the drive thru of a McDonalds ordering a McFlurry
(3) Sitting in apt watching someone watch Nip/Tuck across the street
(4) While prepping a wall for painting, I saw a deer
(5) Hearing a friend of mine describe getting fit for a wedding dress
(6) Unpacking a TV that my bro shipped to me from Florida

Cowboy Up!

Is that phrase over? I didn't get a memo on it. Still the spirit of the statement rings true. I want Boston to win! And its not even this whole "F*** the Yankees" sort of vibe anymore. I mean its still at least partially that, and Derek Jeter still sucks, and Gay-Rod will never really be a Yankee, but more than rooting against the Yanks, this year I am for the Red Sox. This collection of morons and misfits have actually grown on me. Everything from The "What would Johnny Damon Do?" tee-shirts to Manny casual brilliance to Pedro's obsession with the little folk lead me to want to root for the Red Sox. The hair is the best part, the hair is what makes them the "Anti- Yankees", while wanna-be hippies like Giambi have to straighten up when the join the Yanks. The Red Sox proudly display their differences, and no one is more different than Pedro!

Last month, when Pedro called the Yanks his daddy, some people thought "wow, the Yankees finally did it! The sunk Pedro, this once proud Dominican has been laid low by the modern day incarnation of Murderers Row."

My cousin, a proud Yankee fan, had a different analysis: "That guy is crazy, what's wrong with him?"

Of course, Pedro was just messing with us, he has no genetic link to the Yankees at all, the 2004 Yankees did NOT in fact jump in a time machine and run a train on his mother 33 years ago. At least, Pedro doesn't think that. He was just messing with them, using all the guile and smarts he has to gain back even a bit of his old majesty, as his body starts to fail him. I can't watch Baseball on TV, it makes me ant to poke my eyes out, but I always want to watch Pedro pitch, petulant and angry, he comes at you with everything, his arm his back and especially his head. I was the only guy who had his back when tossed Zim around like a sack of potatoes last year, and remain in his corner.

Schilling may be the ace, but he's not the heart of the red sox that's still Pedro.

Sox in 6?

Evil

SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE THIS GUY

Now that Conan is getting 11:30 slot. I think there is a search for a host going on for the 12:30 slot. I think I got the show all worked out in my head

We could have the following line up

Evil as the Host, offending people to the point where the only guests we can get on are infant age relatives

Manolo as a co-host. Like all charismatic black holes before him, Manolo can make the host look better just being his normal self...

Sleave as the musical director/DJ/crowd motivator. Because its funny that he's a white guy with a disturbing knowledge of Hip Hop and also because he's experimented with GHB...on himself

Me doing all perverted animal characters including Triumph the Insult Comic dog and of course The Masturbating Bear.

thoughts??

It should be pointed out that my favorite blog is this one.

It should also be pointed out that I just re-read the entire blog and counted the number of instances I am referenced (6).

Finally, it should be pointed out that I finally got around to finishing a post I have been trying to finish all week. You can either scroll down to September 27th to read it or you can click here.

Evil

John Kerry can't win because he's UNPHOTOGENIC!

Midget Dreams

I had another visitor last week and her name was Jeanne. She barreled up the coast with 120 mph winds and drenching rain…

Given the lessons learned from the last time around, I decided to pass the time with my family…I get there around 2:00 PM and everyone in the family seemed to have the same idea…there are like 20 people there….my parents, my brother, my sister, uncles, aunts, some cousins, my little old grandma…

I quickly decided to establish myself as the alpha male, the leader of the pack and promptly kicked my grandma out of the family room so I could watch Keanu Reeves (aka Neo ) in “Chain Reaction.”

Around 4:30 PM, we decided to play a round of Trivial Pursuit (the 90s edition)…That was my first time playing Trivial Pursuit and I can clearly attest that I hate it…that game has nothing to do with knowledge but rather luck…I went all around the board but somehow failed to land on the Category Headquarters needed to win a token…Anyways, after 6 hours of play, a winner (myself) emerged…woooo!!

Trivial Pursuit Spoiler Ahead - By the way, there seem to be 5 or 6 answers that come up time and time again…They are Bud Selig, Janet Reno, Apple, Cheers, Kodak & Disney…

Around 11:00 PM, one of my cousins had the bright idea of playing Scrabble…It was 2:00 AM before a clear winner emerged…I was brought back down to Earth because I couldn’t do anything with my “Z” (10 points) or my “X” (8 points)…I kept holding the X because I thought I could make “Xylophone” happen...No such luck. You know what, I really hate the game…My friend JWeb expresses my feelings quite clearly in one of his diatribes.

Anyways, after a long day of eating junk food and drinking pina coladas, I woke up around 4:30 AM with a very nasty and particular dream…

In my dream, I wake up after somebody starts tapping the bedroom window. I take a peek outside but there is nobody there…Then I hear some more knocking on the front door. I get up to investigate…I look through the peep hole and nothing…I look through the glass side panel and see an unknown car parked in the front of the house…I slowly start opening the door and in front of me there is a curtain of water going left or right or upwards moving at the whim of some very strong winds…I can hardly see anything except for this midget (little person for those P.C. motherfuckers out there) wet from head to toe wearing black pants and a white shirt from Larios (popular spanish restaurant).

Midget: “Puedo entrar?” (Can I come in?)

Manolo: “Que?” (What?)

Midget: “Puedo entrar?” (Can I come in?)

Manolo: “Que? Quien eres y porque quieres entrar? (What? Who are you and why do want to come in?”)

Midget: “Mi nombre es Jose y estoy tratando de escapar los inclementos del tiempo” (My name is Jose and I am trying to escape the weather”)

Manolo: “Si, pero no entiendo…que haces por aquí?” (Yes, but I don’t understand…what are you doing around here?)

Midget: “Estaba haciendo una entrega de una comida” (I was delivering some food)

Manolo: “En este tiempo? Donde esta tu carro? Y porque no pidio amparo donde entrego la comida?” (In this weather? Where is your car? And why didn’t you ask for shelter where you made your delivery?)

Midget: “No tengo un carro…y nadie contesto en la direccion que me dieron” (I don’t have a car…and nobody answered the door)

Manolo: “Lo siento pero me lo encuentro medio raro…Adios! (I am sorry but I find all this very strange…bye bye)

I start to close the door when the midget sticks his foot in the door and in a rather bizarre tone says

“Please…”

All of a sudden, another midget (female) jumps out of a palm tree and starts running yelling at the top of her lungs “Push it in...” to her midget partner. At the same time, she is pointing at me and yelling to “open the door, you motherfucker, you…”

I am trying to close the door but I can’t…I keep pushing, trying to close the door but to no avail…that tiny foot seemed to have made out of steel or something…

The door its not budging when a Black suburban comes out of nowhere and pushes the other car out of the way….all of a sudden, another 6 midgets jump out and start running towards the door….

I grab a flower vase and break into tiny little pieces on the midget’s head………he stumbles and I am able to finally close the door…