Even Al Gore Says It's OK

Evil


Over dinner, I was suprised to learn that neither Xtian nor KenTak3 had heard of the Tesla. Weird, because those two dudes are hip and on the cutting edge. Anyway, this is the car to get if you care about Mother Earth. It's 100% electric... gets 135 MPG... and goes from 0 to 60 in about 4 seconds. C'mon, people. Do it for the environment. And also do it if you got the 7-figure year-end bonus from Goldman this year. (*Mr. Shoulders*)

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Evil

Look what I found online! An awesome xmas gift!

Walk Down Memory Lane

Evil

Just got one of those automated emails from Columbia telling me to log on to the Alumni website and either accept or decline the undergrad interviews that they put in my queue. It's undergrad interviewing season again! I always have a good time interviewing undergrad candidates. Most of them remind me of how immature I was when I was that age.

Anyway, while I was on the Columbia alum website, I couldn't help but click on the "facebook" link (facebook in the generic sense, not as in facebook.com). What an amusing walk down memory lane. I saw Xtian's undergrad photo. His head is just as big! I also saw ET#2's photo. She had short hair in that photo. But I couldn't find ET#1. Waaah. What's up with that? Maybe ET#1 did the same thing I did, which is click the "Hide" checkbox under our profile options. :)

Tremendous Upside Potential

Bill Simmons aka the Sports Guy loves talking about Tremendous Upside Potential . During the NBA draft people are always banging on about what an athlete such and such is and he has a vertical that's this tall and a wingspan like this.

A more old school phrase for this is "looks great on paper". People used to always talk about how certain people looked great on paper, that is to say if we drew up their characteristics, people would think that they are a slam dunk for success. In the NFL they talk about Combine Performers, guys who shoot from the fifth round to the first round because they really impress everyone at the combine with their time in the 40 and their bench press even though its basically the same dude who got pancaked on the line in every big 10 game he played.

I think we bring these same concepts to dating. I just noticed this. I'll explain why. Recently at a brunch I met a woman. She was perky and cute. I was not into her because she falls below height requirements but I knew that I could pump up a good friend of mine about her. As I described my friend I realized he looked freaking great on paper.

Here's the list

• He's an acccomplished cook. He cooked a full Thanksgiving Dinner and executed it flawlessly. He is also a gifted host and was thoughtful about everything from presentation to wines to serve at various points in the day
• He's a good person, and very funny. Even though he occasionally overdoes it with his homages to me
• He has a fantastic exciting job and he's very good at it. He's also highly motivated and likely to be a great provider
• He seems to like kids very much
• Solid fashion sense, he only occasionally needs a little help, but he did not fall into the trap of being metrosexual, which as a fad lasted about a week
• He's run a marathon and keeps himself in relatively good shape
  

That looks freaking great on paper...what the hell? When did that happen?

The crack den near my apartment also serves coffee

"aw, I knew that was curly top"

There's a baby shrieking at the top of his lungs. He does in fact have a curly top of blonde hair. I'm surprised that his mother is shushing him in spanish. Maybe she's an au pair.

I'm surprised that the woman behind the counter recognizes the boy at all as part of of her regular customer set. What surprises me more is that she has not gone back to take another hit of meth in the 30 seconds since she noted the boy's curly top.

She's clearly a drug addict. Shifty eyes, slurred speech, laughing hysterically and then looking grim when she notices that no one else is laughing. It's sad...no, her lot in life is not sad, what is sad is I don't want her serving me coffee. I find the idea gross, I quickly shift lines to served by a guy far too buff to be serving people coffee at te suburban wonderland that is Panera. Clearly he dedicates 12 hours a day to lifting. His drug must be of the more anabolic variety.

Who knew that Panera Bread Co. hired drug abusers to work the register during the day shift. I mean this place would be a suburban wonderland if someone bothered to snap a still photo, families, babies people reading the paper...its all very normal. Does someone imagine this post modern rockwellian subject matter will do well with drug addicts.

I took a closer look at the people chillin at Panera and my view softened slightly. Their energy and movements gave off a completely different vibe.

Panera seems to have two customer sets:

• Stressed out moms: About 60% of the patronage are of the MILF variety and 100% of that crowd seems well...let's just say ill fit for motherhood. Their children are completely out of control. screaming, repelling off their mother's bossom and spiralling towrads the floor. The women are talking/shouting at themselves. I want to hide. I want to grab their child and discuss with them them how the best thing for them is to sit in the stroller and not say anything for a long time. If they choose to stare in awe at their fingers/hand/fist that's up to them. Then i would give a bunch of pot to crazed baby's mom and see what happens when she gets a little loose. Then I drifted into a wierd fantasy...these people clearly need drugs. Instead of serving them coffee someone should be serving them ambien (including chewables for the kids)
• People waiting to die:These people probably have more drugs than they know what to do with. I think they should be part of this new panera value chain as well. I would not be surprised of these old farts were trading their meds for over priced coffee and pastries so the staff there could get off.
  

I'm now worried that everyone in hoboken is what some would classify as "drug people". This does not bode well for me...the baby is still shrieking, I am hoping that we are thirty seconds from the au pair taking out half a vicoden and shoving it in his mouth...

The Lesbian who would Love me

"You should not go to a bar just to be pensive. Bars are not good places to think"

I turned my face and our eyes met. I felt the crease between my eyes soften. She's wasn't ugly. She wasn't pretty at least not in a traditional way, but she might have been Persian and I really like sleeping with Persian women. We all have our vices.

It's true I was deep in thought. December always makes me question my life decisions. Sometimes it leads to fundamental lifestyle changes, sometimes i just cry in my beer.

Right now, I'm leading towards the latter.

She's not pretty. But we're talking because I flirt. It's how I start the day, how I press on during it and how I like to finish my day. I like her energy. I like that she has no job, that she just kicks it at a bar and is a semi bohemian. It makes me think of the chicks that Sleeve dates.

A man, who turns out to be a woman i seething at me. It's her lover. My new friend who turns out to be neither Brazilian nor Persian but in fact a Moroccan/Israeli tells me to ignore her.

G Money calls, it's time to meet him from dinner. I don't want to get beat up by what Steve Zissou would term a "bull-dike" I politely excuse myself. I'm left wondering if she is into dudes and butch women or women and really feminine men.

I'm left wondering if this is another thing that could make me over think my December.

The O.C.

Has everyone been watching The O.C. this season?



I find it quite amusing. Also, Autumn Reeser? I love you

Sound Advice in my Inbox

I got this email two days ago:

This page was sent to you by: (Jazzy Jaff)

Message from sender:
You need to get circumcised. According to NY Times, doing so will reduce your chance of contracting HIV by 50%.

HEALTH | December 14, 2006
Circumcision Halves H.I.V. Risk, U.S. Agency Finds
By DONALD G. McNEIL Jr.
Experts cautioned that circumcision is no cure-all. It only lessens the chances that a man will contract AIDS from heterosexual sex.


Thanks Jazzy, sound advice.

Tales from the Path: Projectile Sneezing

The women next to me screaming and jumping up and down tipped me off to the fact that something was amiss.

20 seconds prior to the shrieking, the fellow seated across from me and one seat over on the path sneezed. I had been focusing on him to keep from falling asleep. I had just come back from my group holiday party and a little drunk. Focusing on said fellow was easy enough. He was half asleep/dozing offt himself but still managing to twitch his nose like there was cat hair nearby and he was allergic. When he sneezed I turned away, it was not in my direction so I was generally ok. I did here a small splat so I assumed loogie...ew...what actually happened was much worse.

Looking down on the floor I saw something reddish....and looking over at the now screaming women I noticed they have the same reddish stuff all over them as well, and then, right at that moment I knew why they were shrieking...this fool HAD VOMITED ON THEM. OMG!

Now we are all huddled on one side of the path, cover our mouths and noses to avoid the acidic smell of 1/3 digested food. The man in question was slumped over, asleep after monopolizing his second shot all to himself, more specifically aiming it right for his lap.

One woman (reasonably attractive) grabs a personal package of tissues from her purse to clean herself off, good samaritan that I am, I grab one and help her. Her friend grabs one as well and hands it over to the slumped man, nudging him awake with it

"Hey, that was mine I was going to use that on this chick's chest...where are your manners" I shout in my inner monologue.

The train comes to a stop and I am running off like i had just vomitted. Above ground the sneezer comments to his friend that it was pretty obvious that no one no that train was a "fan of his"....

New Years Eve

Evil

I think Bruno should throw a party!

Top What?

Evil



This reporter's verbal goof is funny enough... but even funnier is when the other reporter gets on and makes fun of her. That guy totally reminds me of XTIAN. Cutting off at that knees, baby!!! No mercy.

Manolo’s Lady Friend Runs Away…

When I first moved to Miami back in 2002-2003, I was trying really hard to make new friends, mainly of the female variety. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to replace my dear friends from NYC (does anyone remember Vielka?) but I had to at least try. I was going out every day to a multitude of events (book readings, community service, strip clubs, the Home Depot). I eventually met a very beautiful young lady named Janet* (*name has been changed to protect the innocent) who lived in Tampa but was spending an inordinate amount of time in Miami which meant that we saw each other pretty often. She could have easily graced the pages of Victoria Secret. She was tall, slim, long dark hair, with greenish/blue eyes, with long legs that led to curves that did not quit, and exquisite breasts.

The thing is that when you have the world in your hands, you crave more. I kept telling myself why settle down with technically one of the first girls I met when it seemed Miami was ripe for the picking. One night she initiated the “talk.” I kept my emotional distance and didn’t make the commitment this girl obviously wanted. The next day, this young lady just stopped returning my calls or responding to my emails. I tried calling and in fact left messages a couple of times, all to no avail. A few months later, the cell phone and home number I had were no longer in service. A few months later, I officially took her off from my phone book.

The seasons change (actually, not that much in Miami as is always summer here) as time passes and now we fast forward to a week ago. Isn’t this whole thing too predictable? Guess who contacted me via MSN messenger. It was my dear old friend Janet who just wanted to say hello.

We of course have been talking ever since and she has updated me in her life for the past few years. You see, it seems that just a few short days after we had our talk, she met some guy and LITERALLY ran away with the CIRCUS. She spent the last three-four years traveling all over the world with CIRQUE DU SOLEIL. She has sent me pictures with her in front of all sorts of touristy places in Asia, Europe, and America. She must have seen at least 15-20 countries in the last three years.

I am happy to hear all this and I believe it makes me unique and in fact, may actually enhance my masculinity. You see, a heart broken by a man has lead a few women to completely hate/despise men and actually has turn a few into full-blown lesbians. I actually drove a woman to join the circus. How cool is that?

By the way, if anyone wants VIP tickets for their show in Las Vegas, let me know!

Manolo Is Afraid Of...

Given the sheltered life many of us lead, one doesn’t really know how one will react under pressure. I even like to think I am a bit of a risk taker (except for that girl back in college who I didn’t tell her I liked her until it was too late). Nevertheless, I have always prided myself in not being afraid. I like to think that when the time comes, I will rise to the occasion.

Last night, I went to visit my parents and grab that once a week (sometimes twice) home-cooked meal. Anyway, after a long night of talking and the eating and actually enjoying time with the family (shout out to Xtian and his typical family time), I decided to crash at my parent’s place instead of driving the 20 minutes home.

Everyone had gone to bed so there was no noise whatsoever except for the whoosh/swoosh of the ceiling fan. Almost undergoing an out of body experience, I saw my body shift to a defensive posture and move towards the other side of the bed. I suddenly came to the painful realization that there is something I am indeed afraid of…I am afraid of ceiling fans!!!

When I was a little kid, I would throw rubber balls or paper planes with Crayola colored US Air Force insignia at the ceiling fans in my house. I guess the damage those little planes suffered has scarred me for life because I am afraid that the ceiling fan is going to give way and fall on top of me, or that the blades will tomahawk my head off, or that the individual blades will give way and impel themselves in my soft tender body.

Anyway, now that I know my fear, I do feel better and I realize I don’t have to be afraid anymore. I just need to make sure the damn suckers are off…

Who's His Agent?!

Evil



Slash is doing commercials for VW now? I don't understand! I don't understand! (Waiting for the Duff McKagen Crate & Barrel commercial. Or maybe the Izzy Stradlin MetLife commercial.)

Let's Go Be Famous

Evil



Let's go pitch our idea! You supply the idea. I will take (most of) the fame and glory.

Life Update

Evil

I didn't leave my apartment all of yesterday, even though the sun was shining and it looked from my window like people were having a good time outside. I think it spend at least 80% of yesterday lying down, whether it was sleeping, the 2 naps, or just on the couch watching TV.

If I Did It

Evil

Over the years, some people have accused me of stealing their jokes, one-liners, and other humorous commentary. Yes, a lot of my jokes are based on "previous art," but I wouldn't consider it stealing per se. I think of it more like a mash-up -- like combining Google Maps with Craigslist, like combining The Beatles with Jay Z -- except with humor. It's really a tribute to the humor of everyone I allegedly steal from. The beauty of the mashup era is that the re-invention gives more legs to the original invention. So all you toolboxes who always accuse me of stealing... I'm actually doing you a favor!

Manolo Wishes You A Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Right where we belong?

Am I Famous?

Evil

Check out these screenshots from the Firefox site. Recognize one of those email addresses? Am I famous?

Victory!

Evil



This past Sunday, I ran the Philly Marathon... and boy am I tired! OK, no I didn't. This past Sunday, I sat around eating ice cream and trying to remember the good ol' days when I used to be in shape. But two Friend Of The Hose, Evil Twin #1 and Evil Twin #2, DID run the Philly Marathon. Congrats to Evil Twins!

Is This A Problem?

Evil

It seems that I no longer like to drink wine out of a wine glass. Instead, I find it much more fun to drink wine out of a tumbler! Is this a problem?

Has This Ever Happened To You?

Evil

1. Think to self, "Oooh! I'm going to have some of that great cheese I have in the fridge!"

2. Go to fridge. Open fridge door. Look around for cheese and don't find it.

3. Finally remember that you ate the ENTIRE BLOCK of cheese last night while either drunk or very, very sleepy.

Manolo Takes The Midnight Train To Georgia

I really don't listen to music so I have never been much of a concertgoer. Last night, some friends of mine had an extra ticket to see Gladys Knight at the Hard Rock Casino. To be honest, I only said yes because it was killing two birds with one stone. First of all, I hadn't seen them in a long time so it was a nice excuse to see them and I had nothing else to do. In fact, until I got to the concert and met up with my friends, I really had no idea who she was until they mentioned a couple of her songs.

I have to tell you that after last night, I am a huge fan. The concert was super short (only an hour long) but what it lacked in length was eclipsed by quality itself. From the front row seats themselves to her voice, the song selection and audience interaction, it was a magnificent show. That woman is a true diva...you should take some lessons, Evil!

I downloaded her whole music catalog so next time I go karaoking in NYC with my peeps (peeps/pips - did anyone catch it?) everyone should move aside for my award winning rendition of Midnight Train To Georgia. I don't think another perfect score of a 100 is far from the realm of possibility.

Sometimes we should all feel like this guy!

Sometimes I Feel Like This Guy

Evil



Today, especially. (But at least I'm not alone, according to this article.)

Manolo Drinks Around The World

When I was very little, my parents used to tell me all the time “Dime con quién andas y te diré quién eres”. That literally translates to “tell me with whom you walk and I will tell you who you are.” I guess the best English version of this proverb would be “A man is known by the company he keeps.”

That is why I was super excited this weekend. Balls’ father (aka Balls Senior) emailed me about two weeks and told me he was going to be in Orlando for a week or so. I felt that this was a great opportunity to spend some quality time with Balls’ parents. I tend to have an excellent relationship with my buddies parents and strongly believe they would exchange their own son/daughter for a Manolo in heartbeat. I think the sole exception is Xtian’s Mom who never gave me a chance and thinks that I am gay and a probable drunkard...

Anyway, I leave the office on Saturday afternoon and get on the turnpike with my brother for the 4 hour car ride. At some junction, I started listening to a play list of punk rock songs that Xtian once helped me make back in 2000 for an Argentinean cocktail waitress from the local strip club.

We are minding our own business and “punking out” when an officer of the Florida Highway Patrol turns on his flashy lights and stops me for speeding. After lowering the volume on The Ramones “I Wanna Be Sedated”, he asks me a series of innocuous questions such as are you carrying any drugs and do you have any weapons. He then proceeds to issue me a ticket for $210 for going 92 mph in a 65 mph zone. This is injustice at the highest level which I am going to fight tooth and nail...

Since this injustice perpetrated against me happened almost at the end of my trip, we made it to Orlando from Miami in 3 ½ hours as opposed to the 4 hours estimated by MapQuest. (Suck it MapQuest). I think I could have made it in 3 hours if it hadn’t been for the fact that I had to go the last 45 minutes at the posted speed limit (very embarrassing to have senior citizens in their Mercury honking their horns and shaking their fists at you). I also got lost once I actually got to Disney World (that place is huge)…

After all my travails, I eventually made it to Disney’s Boardwalk Villas where Balls’ parents were staying. We went to a nice dinner with the Epcot fireworks exploding in the background (very romantic). The next day we went to the Polynesian Resort where we spent a few glorious hours baking under the sun while sipping on piña coladas and racing our own personal speed boats. I actually had to go back and exchange my watercraft three times until I found one that allowed me to keep up more or less with Balls’ Mom whose boat was possessed and kept leaving everyone on her wake. Of course, the Disney Coast Guard didn’t think she was going too fast. They didn’t have a problem though stopping me and telling ME to SLOW DOWN…

After a few more hours of relaxation we went to Epcot to partake in the grand old tradition of “Drinking Around The World.” For those not familiar with the tradition, you start at one end of the World Showcase at Epcot (I usually start with France) and you order a drink. You are supposed to finish your drink by the next country in the showcase. Usually by the time you get to Mexico, you have had 6-7 drinks and have a nice buzz going and are ready for the food from the local cantina. We did make it to Mexico but it seemed to take a few more drinks than usual. It seemed that Epcot was having some sort of Food and Wine Festival which meant that they added like 25 countries…Of course, I didn’t know this until I was ¾ done with the world…one or two more countries and I could have been ranked on the same level as Alexander the Great or Ghengis Khan!!!

The next day I parted ways with Balls’ parents. My brother and I went to Universal Studios and then drove home. The parental units went to Discovery Cove (Sea World) to swim with the dolphins. A little birdie told me that it seems one of the dolphins was jealous of Ball’s mom and proceeded to drag her to the bottom of the lagoon before she finally let go…

Anyway, they are still wrecking havoc in Orlando…I wonder if Balls Senior has conquered the countries I failed to conquer (Blast you Poland, blast you!!!)

Manolo Gets His Motorcycle License

A month ago or so I took a motorcycle course so I could get my license. After a jam-packed weekend of activities where it didn't stop raining, I can proudly tell you that I had a perfect score in the written test as well as my driving test.

After the class, they give you a little card that you can take to the DMV to replace your current license for another license which allows you to drive a motorcycle. After waiting in line for about an hour and a half and paying $15, I ended receiving the same license I had before except that it stated in very small letters (almost fine print) MOTORCYCLE ALSO.

Anyway, I will post some pictures of my first bike (probably won't happen for 2-3 months). In the meantime, I posted my graduation picture.

Whiskas and Cheese, Part Deux

Last Friday night after KenTak3 and I get back from a delightful meal of risotto from Risotteria in the West Village and rice pudding from Rice to Riches in Nolita, we are introduced to Stella.

Running around the apartment, not much smaller than Bruno with a REALLY long ---tail ---, she must have been looking for her boyfriend who, unfortunately, we took out a few months ago, if you recall.

This time, Stella ends up behind the refrigerator (where it's warm).

KenTak3: Let's just leave Stella and go to bed.

Mamacita: Where is she going to go?

KenTak3: We have two options: 1) we can try to catch her, or 2) we can just let her go. It's going to be a few hours until she comes out. What are we going to do... wait all night?

Mamacita: I hear what you are saying, KenTak3, but no soy interesante in 2).

Mamacita wins!

So, we try to trap Stella behind the fridge, by barricading it with textbooks so she can't run out from underneath. Smarter than we think, Stella scales the wall next to it and tries to climb over the books.

Needing more tools, KenTak3 distracts her with a flashlight, while I run out and get some sticky traps. (By the way, the Deli guy loves me at this point, and gives me 2 free sticky traps for every 10 that I buy!)

Back in the apartment, we follow the usual strategy of lining up the sticky traps around the fridge so when Stella scales the wall, and eventually falls to the ground... STICK!

Thirty seconds later, KenTak3 makes a Stella sandwich, and I am taking the bag of goods several blocks down the street.

I think we are going to get a cat now. This repeated hunt and gather strategy (with Bruno watching from the sidelines) does not work for me. But I have to give KenTak3 kudos for taking charge with the sandwich action...

Does anyone else have this problem? Also, will I be haunted later in life for using sticky traps - many consider these inhumane (not to mention ineffective) but they seem to be working and are less than $1 each!

Manolo Wants To Learn Magic

EDITOR'S NOTE: DO NOT PLAY AT WORK!!!

I thought this lady magician was amazing...How does she do it?

Manolo Meets The President

No, no, no! I am not talking about King George. I am talking about President Vicente Fox Quesada from the Republic of Mexico. You see, I was in a conference in Mexico City and President Fox was just a few feet from me. I don't know if it was because he is a lame-duck president, only in power for another month or two but for me it wasn't that big a deal. I wonder if I would have felt different if I was actually Mexican.

Before he left though, I was able to extract three places in Mexico that according to him are worth investing...He mentioned Puerto Peñasco in Sonora, La Pesca in Tamaulipas y Champotón in Campeche. He said new airports, miles and miles of new highways and thousands of new condos are being built. In the interests of full disclosure though, I asked him if he owned any property there...he was quickly whisked away by his staff.

One thing that always impresses me every time I am in Mexico is that Mexicans know how to party. Your perfunctory coffee break whether it was at 1:00 PM or 2:00 PM or 4:00 PM severely lacked coffee. Instead, participants were treated to tequila shots and salt-packed Margaritas. I just had to take the ice out of my margaritas to make sure I did not suffer from the Aztec Two-Step aka Montezuma's Revenge.

What else happened? I was there while the NY Yankees were playing the Detroit Tigers...I ended up watching most of the games in the hotel bar the whole time. It actually wasn't that bad because by the middle of my stay, every guest at the hotel knew who I was and by the end of game 4, everyone at the hotel was buying me tequila shots to ease my pain.

What a train wreck!! You know what, memories of their loss just flooded back. I got to go.....

I've Got The Blues

Evil

... the furniture shopping blues, that is. Why is it so hard to find a couch that's not an ugly color and not an ugly style? Sheesh! I've seen at least 100 couches in about 6 different stores and nothing is working. Actually, a couple were nice, but they were way too big to fit through my apartment door. And I can't buy other furniture before finalizing on a couch, which even if I bought today, would probably take 6 - 8 weeks to manufacture and deliver. At this rate, I'll never have any furniture. Except for the huge bed of cedar shavings I keep in the corner of my room. Cedar is great. I just pee on it any time I want.

If You Can't Beat 'Em, Sit On 'Em!

Evil



Does this make A-Rod a bad sport?

Sometimes I Feel Like This Guy

Evil



Sometimes I feel like this guy... like whatever I do, I can win... like whatever talents I have, no one appreciates them... like however many situps I do, they don't count for anything... like no one likes me. Going to eat a slice of pizza and drink a cold beer now. Later, people!

Sometimes I Feel Like This Guy

Evil



Somtimes I feel like this guy... Minus all his money and all his women, of course.

excuse me while i break my own heart

This is why YouTube Rocks...you can go find your favorite alt-country band doing a kick ass live rendition of a particularly awesome song...

next I find some Old 97s

woooo

Scenes from a Dentist

Dr. Ray: Wow
xTian: What?
Dr. Ray: How much pain are you in back here?
xTian: None
Dr. Ray: Really? That's impossible. It's a mess back there, those things never erupted out of your gums. They are impossible to keep clean. They must be constantly inflammed.

I neglected to admit that 5 years ago when I lived in Astoria, they hurt so friggin much that I had an appointment to take them out. Talking to my mother the night before she scared the crap out of me about anasthesia and said I needed someone to go with me to make sure I got home ok. Anyway, instead I cancelled the whole thing and went to work

Potentially Unhealthy Behavior

Evil



I can't stop myself from watching House Hunters in HGTV. It's just one episode after another. I'm just sitting here. Watching and watching and watching. This has been going on for about a month. Cable TV with DVR is a wonderful thing. Or a terrible thing. I'm not sure sure.

As I'm watching House Hunters, I also can't help but notice how differently women and men behave when they're evaluating homes. By my observation, men usually stick to nodding if they're pleased and scrunching their face if they don't like the place. Sometimes they will utter things like, "I like this place" or "No, I don't like this place."

Women, however, evaluate homes as if they were something else altogether. For example, here are some comments made by women house hunters:

- "Ooooh, I really like the size."

- "It's so big! I bet it would take me months to get used to all this size!"

- "Hmmm. Well, what it lacks in character, it certainly makes up for it in size."

I can't stop watching this show. I'm waiting for the episode when a guy house hunter says something like:

-"It sure is tight. And I like it that way!"

Or:

-"I know I'm not the first guy who's ever been in here, but it sure feels like it."

Manolo Tends Some Feelers

Stop giggling Evil...I am not talking about the types of feelers you give in the Google public bathrooms...

I am talking about getting one of these world leaders give a speech condemning the US while holding a poster with The Hose website address. I am leaning towards Kim Jong-il from North Korea but if you know of someone else interested, let me know.

The book Mr. Chavez was holding up was Noam Chomsky's Hegemony or Survival: America's Quest for Global Dominance (The American Empire Project). Do you know that in one day the book went from rank #170,000 to rank #30 in less than one day?

Can you imagine the traffic we will get?

What?

Evil



David Wright of the NY Mets celebrates. It's his coming out party!

Why Might This Be?

Evil

For some reason, I've always thought that McGill University was an all girls school. Maybe it was because in high school, there were these twin girls in my graduating class and the one I always found really cute, Margaret (she always kept her hair down, whereas her sister always kept it up... I don't even remember the sister's name actually), ended up going to McGill University. Totally unrelated, but I was recently informed that McGill is in fact considered the "Harvard of Canada." This interested me, or maybe I just had some spare time at work, so I was doing some web research on McGill. There's this interesting research paper I ran into, written by some folks at McGill sometime in the late-90's.

The findings from this study are somewhat bizarre and unexplainable, at least I think so. Get this... they did this study on kids age 0 to 5 who had some sort of physical trauma as the result of an accident, say, falling off a chair and busting a gash in their head. They then followed the progress of these kids into adulthood and discovered that the physical trauma led to severe resentment of one's DAD. But as far as the MOM was concerened, there was no measured effect, positive or negative.

I ask you, smart readers of The Hose... WTF? How come the dad gets all the blame???

Manolo Cries For A Minute and Then...

They say a picture is worth a thousand words! This is a picture of Bush during the 9/11 ceremonies of last week. Can anyone point out what's wrong with this picture?

In case you failed the test, it seems that Georgie has a different anatomical and physiological make-up than the rest of us do and his heart is not located where you think it is.

I guess it does explain his response to Hurricane Katrina...I wonder in what part of his body is the brain located...

Spitzer vs. Someone-Who-Doesn't-Stand-A-Chance

Evil



Here in New York, there's some kind of election that's about to happen. I don't know the details, but I've passively seen commercials about it. All I know is that Elliot Spitzer is running and whichever poor schmo is running against him is going to beat worse than a 3-year-old-Evil by his mom.

Elliot Spitzer is stronger than Superman. Elliot Spitzer is honester than Abe. Elliot Spitzer's jawline is squarer than a 90 degree angle. Elliot Spitzer will win and save New York, whatever it is that we need to be saved from.

Fundamental Questions Of Life

Evil



Why are KenTak3's people so weird? Can someone tell me?

Things I remember

In 1985, Coca-Cola introduced “New Coke”, this move is in retrospect considered one of the great marketing blunders of the 20th century. I imagine that the people who actually sit around look back and categorize “marketing blunders” are pot smoking MBA candidates who don’t really know enough about music or movies but have an over-developed sense of irony. But really that’s an aside to the core point, new coke destroyed families. Here is my story.

It was winter. In the mid 80s my uncles were prone to hanging out at my parent’s home. My mom always cooked and they liked hanging out with me and the then baby bump. Sometimes they would bring friends. This was interesting because I never brought friends home. That always made me uncomfortable. My mom was always one to live by the adage that people should be in their own home, as opposed to each others. But my uncles would occasionally bring friends. As it was the mid 80s everyone who came thru dressed like an extra from one of two films, Crush Groove or Purple Rain. Some dressed a little closely to George Michael (either ignoring the gayness or George or anticipating their own eventual early nineties admission of gayness) One dude, who’s name was Felix, made people call him flex. I think he wore one fishnet glove. No one cared.

Anyway, one of these goons, asked my dad for a coke once and my dad brought him a can. He inspected it and asked if he could have an “old coke”. My dad mentioned that this was a coca-cola classic and goon professed it was not the same. That there was coke, new coke and coca-cola classic and that each was completely different.

First of all, this is a classic bad guest. Who makes these demands on people? Second its’ been 8 months since new coke. Does anyone really think if we are stashing a large supply of original coke, we’d say "this is for the next time a pop locking goon with a bad perm comes over"

Still my dad, a gentleman and a scholar was embarrassed. What a horrible host that he did not have the foresight to store away soon to be stale soda on the off chance some 18 year old chump will come in and ask for some. So no new coke, no coca-cola classic…just toolery…just toolery

This memory flashed before my eyes Saturday at 6am as I stumbled into my apartment wondering about a series of morally ambiguous decisions I had just made.

Manolo Goes On A Cruise

I just came back from a 4-day cruise to Mexico and will fill you in many of its wondrous details.

Meanwhile, I will like to state that I had nothing to do with Tammy Grogan...

Manolo Goes For Some Capital Punishment

I was recently in Washington for some work-related stuff. Sure, Washington may be a seething hotbed of politics, drugs, murder, but it’s also got the country’s largest population of au pairs. At least, that what’s I heard. Someone had given the notion that, thanks to all its diplomats, politicians, and lobbyists, Washington has more au pairs than anywhere else—and every weekend, these foreign women gather at a nightspot to pick up American men. My mission while I was there: to find this magical place.

My first night there, I started by going to Adams Morgan and see what that section of the city had to offer. Most of the ladies were drinking Lindman’s Framboise, a raspberry brew not meant for real men. Men were drinking Dirty Dick’s Ale. I am sure there’s nothing like a Dirty Dick and I am sure Xtian has them left and right but I didn’t feel comfortable enough to order one. Therefore, I ordered lots of Lindman’s Framboise.

After a long night of praying to the porcelain gods, I decided to engage in some sightseeing. I am not Jewish and don’t need to get in touch with my heritage, but I decided I needed to visit to the Holocaust museum since I have been in Washington a couple of times but had failed to go. I didn’t expect to be treated to an unbelievable parade of beautiful women. Mothers and daughters. Sisters. Twins. Foreign, domestic, Jewish, Catholic. All kinds and all gorgeous. Men are outnumbered by at least two to one. But how does a man meet women at the Holocaust Museum? You have to play it very cool, something at which I fail repeatedly. This is obviously not a happy place.

First of all, you have to be quick. I noticed one pretty lady in little pink shorts and a white T-shirt. An au pair on her day off? She noticed me looking at her and she smiled at me. Nobody smiles here. But I waited too long to approach, and she wandered into the “Remember the Children” exhibit. Probably not the best place to ask where she’s from. I walked into the gift shop, where they make money selling key chains with cute pictures of Anne Frank. How tasteless can you get? I bought one and put it in my pocket, which I now realize was scant inches from my genitals. I waited for my honey with the pink shorts, but to no avail. Another strikeout.

I went to this place that serves lattes and alcohol. It was pretty packed with women. I guess women feel comfortable coming here alone because of the coffee bit. Unfortunately, lots of politicians frequent the joint. I asked a couple of guys claiming to be congressmen if they knew where the au pairs hung out. They said there was no such place and that it was an urban myth. Being so-called congressmen, I refused to believe them.

I still had faith. I kept wandering the city and I tried going into a place which had a velvet rope that took you into some sort of basement. They turned me away yet they let these hippies in wearing flip flops. Word on the street is that the Norwegian Mafia runs it. I didn’t fight it because I’d been smuggling salted fish and the Norwegian Mafia was after me.

I went to another trendy hip place. This place was like an unofficial gathering place for white people that can’t dance. As many readers can attest, I am not the greatest dancer BUT when next to white people, I am like Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing or John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. I started talking to this brunette with that hot Eastern European look found on many porn websites but she actually turned out to be from Kansas...not exotic enough but I had nothing better to do so I stuck around.

We were talking and dancing and we regaled each other with personal stories...She actually found my Holocaust Museum outing quite amusing. A few dances and drinks later, she then proceeds to pull me close and whispers in my ear that she wanted to show me something, I blurted out “Is it hot au pairs” She gave me a very pensive look. This time I said nothing. She took my hand, placed it on her left arm, her tanned skin was soft and I touched it a long time. and told me to roll up her sleeve, revealing a tattoo of an alley cat. I mentioned that back when I lived in NYC there was a bar/strip club called the Alley Cat near Wall Street where I spent many a work afternoon (shout out to Xtian and his life partner Matt).

She then downed her tequila shot and took her hair down.

“I have never been to a strip club. I think we should go to a strip club,” she whispered.
“That’s a stupid idea.” I answered. “Au pairs aren’t going to hang out at a strip club.”

She looked at me again with those beautiful pensive Kansas eyes and then she walked away...

xtian/Evil vs. VH1/The Producers of Best Week Ever

We're going to SUE!

We invinted real time blogging and Best Week ever comes back with "Live Blogging"? A whole 3 years later!

Fuck that, first they don't let us on their show, now this...

Check this out

I was at an awesome concert this past wednesday.

Her name is Jenny Owen Youngs and her CD rocks. Her performance with a bit nervous. She was occasionally gittery, but she rocked after a while and her comments in between songs had a lot of double entendres. Sometimes even Manolo's favorite, the single entendre. Also, she's really hot in a nerdy, Columbia Library sort of way.

She is something of a cross between alanis morrisette and Annie DiFranco I guess, but only if you take the two (1)stick them in a blender (2) Blend liberally (3) pour the mixture in a very attractive cake mold (4) Bake for 20 minutes (5) allow for cooling.

Anyway ,she has this great song called "The drinking song" which is not on the CD but will be when it is re-released in late november.

At the Seams

I seem to be coming apart again. Another apartment search and the realization that by staying in NYC I am actually losing ground in life has brought me to a new internal low.

I tried something dramatic the other day, I debated moving to the 'hood, and even looked at an apt way the hell up there in the legit 'hood. I don't belong in the 'hood. I am a mama's boy. Always have been, I got no business in the 'hood.

My friend is much more mature than me; she has been wiser about how she has handled her post grad school life. She needed someone to take over her lease as she just bought a place (see, suck it up live in the hood and buy a place...its that easy).

I suppose I can buy a place, but I anticipate another year of downward pressure on home purchases, so in the interim I am moving to Hoboken and building up a cash reserve. We'll see how it goes.

Anyway, as we were talking I dumped a lot of info on my friend and she didn't move. She didnt run away. She didn't ask me to leave. There I was, xTian Age 30ish/emotional age 19...just laying out all my crazy..."dude I'm old"..."dude, I suck" "dude, I'm bad at my job" "dude, I don't like any of my friends". Crazy from all angles...and all she just shifted uncomfortably on her couch thing. To be fair, i am not sure if it was me dumping all my insecurities on her or that my eyes shifted eagerly between trying to look up her skirt and down her tank top. The net of it was, she shifted self consciously and it was because of me whether it was frantic musings or my completely inappropriate leering it was all coming from me. Just between us loyal readers - nothing makes me hornier than my own insecurities.

But she went no where nor did she ask me to leave! What a giving person...
As she showed me out she suggested I think less about things...That's certainly not going to happen...if I don't dwell on this stuff I would have nothing to blog about.

I Hope It's Not Fatal (Followup)

Evil

I went to see the cute dermotologist for a followup today. She got my results back from the lab. Turns out to just be some skin irritation. (REALLY?!)

It Seemed Like Only Yesterday

Evil



I'm watching "I Love The 80's - 1986 Edition" on VH1. The Three Amigos came out in 1986? That was 20 years ago? You know what's really shocking? The fact that Steve Martin still looks the same. He hasn't aged in 20 years. (But then again, in 1986, he already looked like he was 75 years old.)

I Hope It's Not Fatal

Evil

I've come down with this weird rash around my left collarbone area. I first got it a couple of weeks ago and it hasn't gone away (but it hasn't spread elsewhere either). So I went to see a dermotologist today. The first thing I notice about the demotologist... she's cute! The second thing I notice... whoa, she's young. She looks like she's 26. But she's Asian, so maybe she just looks young by virtue of having good skin (from BOTH being Asian and being a dermotologist. Double bonus!) Anyway, while I was there, she takes various swabs and various scrapes from my rash. She looks at the stuff under a microscope. Her final verdict? And this is a direct quote: "Wow, I have no idea what this is!" Great. I just hope it's not fatal.

What's Your Poison?

Blog Addiction Hurting Worker Productivity

We know how much time we spend reading blogs at work--and we'd probably spend even more if our firewall didn't block half of them. According to a recent study by Ad Age, we aren't alone:
About 35 million workers -- one in four people in the labor force -- visit blogs and on average spend 3.5 hours, or 9%, of the work week engaged with them, according to Advertising Age’s analysis. Time spent in the office on non-work blogs this year will take up the equivalent of 2.3 million jobs. Forget lunch breaks -- blog readers essentially take a daily 40-minute blog break.

Of late mine is: TMZ, Brownstoner, Curbed, The Real Deal, and a competing Blogspot.

Manolo Gets An Email

I received the following email at 10:37 PM on Saturday evening:

From: [Balls Mahoney]
To: [Mrs. Balls, Manolo, Evil Twin #1, “Chris”, The W Train]
Cc: [Evil Twin #2]

Hey, you cats remember the whitewater rafting trip and the car trip discussion about 'guilty pleasure' movies?IRON EAGLE!!Yeah, baby - it's on right now!!! (And just as cheesy as ever)

The first thing I wonder is why Balls is at home on a Saturday evening sending emails instead of having crazy wild sex with Mrs. Balls.

The second thing I wonder is why he is choosing to watch “Iron Eagle” instead of “Red Dawn” which was playing on TV as well…

Does anyone remember Red Dawn?

That’s a GREAT guilty pleasure movie. Action packed military fantasy with a bunch of teenage militia hiding out in the Colorado Rockies striking back against invading Russian troops occupying the Western USA. I won’t even mention Patrick Swayze or that it was Charlie Sheen’s first film. Go Wolverines!!!

All I know is that Balls has his priorities all screwed up…his only saving grace is that at least it wasn’t “The Man from Snowy River” or “Ladyhawke."

Victory! (redux)

Evil



After winning the British Open, Tiger 'roid raged. After winning the PGA Championship earlier today, Tiger 'roid raged again (above). Someone take a urine sample!

Who Moved My Cheese?

KenTak3, Bruno, and I decided to hang in last night, for a calm, disruption-free, Saturday evening. While we were all quietly enjoying our lovely lettuce, chicken, and Thai peanut salad from Fairway and watching Lifetime movie with Patrick McDermott (Dr. McDreamy) and Kimberly Williams-Paisley (former sorority sister and bride of "Father of the Bride"), KenTak3 spots little brown mouse dashing along the kitchen wall into the bathroom. Below are subsequent events over the next few hours...

9:08 PM
KenTak3: "I'll keep an eye on the mouse and you go get sticky traps at the deli."
Mamacita: "Ok. What are you going to do if he runs by?" ...but really thinking "How brilliant, KenTak3, you are to observe mouse running through apartment while I venture out in the hood buying useless sticky traps."

9:15 PM
Mamacita (arriving back to apartment, with sticky traps in hand): "What is mouse doing now?"
KenTak3 (reading Golf Digest): "Hiding in the corner of the bathroom."
Mamacita: "Let's take out all toiletries to get ready for bed, brush teeth in kitchen sink, put sticky traps in bathroom with cheese on them, and barracade bathroom door with textbooks."
KenTak3: "You are always so genious, Mamacita."

6:02 AM (waking early for Sunday golf outing in NJ)
KenTak3 (after investigating bathroom): "Mouse is still in the corner."
Mamacita: "Unfortunately, looks like we need to cancel golf outing to deal with mouse. Let's line the exit to the bathroom door with all 10 sticky traps so mouse has nowhere to exit.
KenTak3: "Ok. You are always so genious, Mamacita."

6:15 AM - 6:28 AM
Mamacita: "There he goes, there he goes!! ... Get him!! ... Die, you nasty !^&%$#*, die!!"

...Wrestling ensues between KenTak3 and mouse...

6:34 AM
Kentak3 exits apartment to dispose of mouse sandwiched between 2 sticky traps in Fairway plastic shopping bags.
Mamcita: "You're my hero, Kentak3."

Go Papi! Go!

My grandfather, not only can he outdance me, but he can also kick my ass and probably beat me in a foot race...

Bump put it well "I don't need him around making me feel bad about myself"

The woman is Dr. Jay's lovely new bride. She is posing as though she misjudged the surface temperature of something she reached for. Yes that's right, she's droppin it like its hot

That Bald guy

For those people into this you should check out Tony Kornheisher on the Washington Post. In addition to being Michael Wilbon's "hetero life mate" he is also the new third man in the monday night football booth. He is having a good time keeping a journal...

For those of you not into this stuff you should go back to spanking it

Asshole Move? Or OK?

Evil

I used to work at a company that makes technology to automate call centers. So essentially, we were in the business of shutting down call centers and putting people out of work. Ugh. Terrible, I know. Anyway, that was years ago. But one interesting learning from that job: I have a better than average knowledge of how call centers work. For example, if you call 800-555-1212 (toll free directory assistance) and ask the operator "What's your name?", by procedure, they have to tell you. You can also ask them "Where are you located?" and they have to tell you that too.

I also know in general how the management structure at call centers work. Most call centers always have a supervisor on duty for a certain number of reps. And if you ask to speak to the supervisor, the reps generally have to transfer you.

Today, I was calling about a late order and found the rep extremely condescending and not helpful. I had her transfer me to her supervisor. I laid out an arguement about how I received service that was "frustrating" and "not at the level I'd expect from the [store name here] brand." I think I used the word "disappointing" at least twice, for emphasis.

In the end this is what I got:

- 10% off of my order for my "inconvenience," plus

- the supervisor telling me he would call the rep into his office tomorrow and "have a talk with her," plus

- a heaping serving of guilt

Was that an Asshole Move? Or OK?

Worries, worries

Evil



I live on the 2nd floor of a six-floor walkup. Last week, the super posted a notice about bedbugs being reported in 2 apartments on the 5th floor. No sweat, I think. That's the fifth floor. Today, the super posted a new notice: bed bugs now spotted on the 3rd floor. CRAP! I need to move outta here, and fast.

Potentially Bad News

Evil

I think I might be pregnant. My tummy keeps getting bigger and bigger.

This is Fun

Has anyone cheked out the wikipedia entry for their hometown? I did. Check it out here.

Scenes from a wedding...

(continued from last week)

Dr. Jay's wedding rocked! "Classic", "best of" wedding, right down a re-enactment of the scene from Godfather III where our large, unwieldly, extended family got together and posed for a massive family portrait. At one point during the picture I noticed that 60% of the wedding invitees were standing for this photo. Some of whom felt new to me. Are we multiplying? Is the Velez family tribble-like?

As discussed, I was related to most people at this wedding. Very few chicks in the mix. One was my escort for the evening. She was a redhead. 30 years into my life I still don't know if I find redheads attractive. it's foreign to me so its always interesting but I am never sure its good stuff. Not knowing what to do when i noticed her at the rehearsal dinner I made Bumpasaurus sit at their table while i acted like I needed to catch up with my little cousin. Upon returning, I made Bump explain whether she was hot or not...

Bump- "who? The old lady?"

You can always count on the Bump. For what? Only the little baby jesus knows...

But I digress, I'll admit she smelled odd. Well she did not actually smell odd, I just did not like her scent. Further, it was hot that day (like stupid hot) and so this scent that i was not a huge fan of was for, whatever reason, more pronounced. Still bored out of my mind, I engaged her in dancing. I explained to her that salsa is in triple and merengue was in duple. This is a fact, Jon-El has told me. I really have no idea what to do with this information myself but she nodded knowingly...like i was giving her great advise.

As we were getting drinks we had the following exchange


Her: "I need to get a phD, but i can't"
Me: "oh why?"
Her: "you would not understand, you're too young."
Me: "how old do you imagine i am"
Her: "i am guessing around Dr. Jay's age...just under 30"
Me: "good guess..."
Her: "too young"
Me: "huh"
Her: "i'm thirty-six"
Me: "goddamn.."
Her: "unlike [the bride] i have no one to support me, I'm by myself. I don't have a great guy like Dr. Jay to take care of me while i do this"
Me: "right, oh look there's my grandmother, I have to go say hi to her"

Later, on another woman grabbed me for a dance. She was the little sister of the best man, could not be older than 26ish...

Her: "thanks for dancing with me...you're pretty good"
Me: (to myself) "poor child, has she been surrounded by white people her whole life, I look ridiculous...I'm having fun"
Me: (to her) "thanks..you too"
Her: "I just really appreciate it"
Me: "Como?"
Her: "I come to these things and only dance with my girls...its no fun"
The Journey song - Don't stop Believin - comes on, we are now holding each other. this is suddenly a 3rd grade dance.
Little girls (8 and 6 were their ages)
Her: "these are my girls"
Me: "huh? Um...hello little girls"
the four of us danced for a minute. then thankfully the song ended.

Her: "are you going back to the hotel?"
Me: "nah, i am going home" I yelled to my brother "Bump go bring around the car"

Cowardice, thy name is xtian.

Earlier this week, I had lunch with a friend and I was telling her these stories. She asked why I mention all this. I noticed that it was because she smelled just like the bridesmaid who was looking for financial support. When challenged she promised she was wearing no scent. I blamed her moisturizer. Her eyes got LC like "big and pensive", she was judging my sanity.

No Loitering

Does anyone ever want to stop and stare at those American Apparel Ads on the street as you walk by. I do, but I am immediately overcome with a fear that someone will judge me for staring at young girls.

With that in mind, here is a link to their photo gallery. Stare away.

Did you guys know they were political? Read their mission statement, who thought $5 tees could be such a slap against the man?

How much A$$ do we suppose this guy gets off the MySpace?

check this out!

Bachelor Party Blues

There are two camps in my life

(1) The people who think i'm the life of the party. The people who think I am hooking up nightly. The people who asume I know where to go and when and theoretically could get them coke even though I don't seem to use much myself.
(2) The people who love me but ultimately think I'm wack. The people who invite me out and expect me to run home at 2am. The people who hesitate inviting me out because I might try to make out with their cute cousin/sister/girlfriend/mother and then leave without saying good bye at 11:45.

The truth is I'm somewhere in the middle. I am neither a great friend nor a crappy one. I neither stay out all night or am a shut in. In reality I am somewhere in between. But no one knows this. They just see point in time examples that reveal me to be one and only one of the aformentioned scenarios.

Regardless, its a lot of pressure. How do I live up to these expectations, its tough stuff.

Late June: I am in boston having lunch outside with my brother Balls Mahoney. The phone rings. An amiable fellow is on the other end and he claims to be the best man to my cousin, Dr. Jay. He asks my help in planning an eventual bachelor party. We agree this is a good idea. We discuss a party in NY. I am hesitant. 8 guys in NY sounds like a Sangay plan that always goes ary. However, I promise to put some thought into said plan and get back to him. Our conversation is even keeled and casual. Surprisingly so, given that I hate talking to people I love on the phone, i doubly hate talking to people I don't know. We tacitly agree that by the transitive property we are brothers, as we both consider Dr J a brother. Yes that's right, this summer I have declared everyone brother.

We confirm a plan over the next few weeks to drag J up to Manhattan - feed him a steak, get him drunk and stare at titties. I also do some research into where we could go find an illegal blackjack game in manhattan around 5am should we need to. I'll make a side comment here that long ago Manolo taught me that if you go to the right place at 5am you could find all the blackjack, crystal meth and tranny prostitutes you want. I have never understood why it was important to Manolo that I understand this as in the 7 years since I have never put this information to good use. I'm sure Manolo has though, haven't you champ?

That morning, the Bumpasaurus is meant to arrive from Florida. He is no where to be seen. Anxious calls reveal he is still in Orlando. Further calls reveal that his original flight to Newark is cancelled. His bag was checked to go to JFK but he fell asleeep and now is on a flight to laguardia landing at 10pm. He asks that I claim his back at JFK for him. I say "of course" because outer Queens is so MOTHEF*CKING convienent for me to get to. A**HOLE...

We meet up at The Old Homestead around 9pm. It's myself, Dr. Jay, the best man, Will the tool, and some other dr. We eat a great steak. Will The Tool, the youngest guy there complains a lot about his sapphire and tonic. We all mock him its fun.

We conviene with the Bump at The Maritime around 11pm. Bump is upset no one is drunk. We have a few drinks outside. Will the Tool is still complaining. Bump asks what his problem is. I suggest its simply that he sucks. Bump throws up his hands in disgust.

En route to another bar, The Wisdom of Masses is played out right before my eyes. Will the tool stops at several bodegas looking for his brand of cigarrettes. Some joke that he is looking for menthols (which I guess is a closet joke about black people, but will is very white and though he says "yooo" quite a bit I just don't get it)...the joke about him looking for Viriginia Slims more closely hits the mark...and everyone nods in a approval, their silence voting this the winning diss.

At around the 4th bar, we agree shots are necessary. We go nuts. The tool refuses to do shots. Bump calls him gay and then a fag. Bump is not drunk per se, just sort of a d*ck. Finally The tool relents, takes the shot and then proceeds to throw up immediately. I have just turned around to settle the tab so I miss the scene. It's fine Bump is on the scene. He takes the tool outside to get fresh air. En route Bump notices that Tool threw up all over Dr. Jay and grabbed him and took him to the rest room.

Watching the mexican busboys clean up the mess harkens me back to Evil in Chicago drink Mojitos till he vomited. That has to count as a "Classic" "Best of" episode "EVIL AND XTIAN hate themselves".

I decide we need to leave. Thankfully, the good people at Old Homestead gave me several free passes to Privildge. We stop at a car wash on the west side highway so Dr Jay can hose himself off some more. and Tool can wash his shoes which have vomit all over them.

At the strip club I watch A-Rod strike out 4 times in one game. ESPN replays it pitch by pitch. What does it say about me that I would rather watch that than a croatian immigrant strip? I overhear a stripper ask Jay if it's raining outside as his shirt is so wet. The Tool comes by and asks if we can go to a better strip club. I ask him to go sit still on the other side of the table and not speak to me anymore. Bump is having a good time. So am I. So is the Doctor, I guess then it's all good in the hood.

We stopped by Pizza 33 to say what's up and eat. I introduce the owner to my brother. He asks Bump if he is adopted as he looks nothing like me. Bump is visibly shaken by the thought of this possibilty and revisits this topic several times over the next week.

The next day Dr Jay and I are speaking on the phone. He thanks me as he had a fabulous time.
Next
Part 2 - Scenes from a Wedding

Boneless Girl

This kept me amused for several hours of the day today. As described, you "click, drag, and drop boneless girl."

Hey Manolo, doesn't this look like the girl you kissed, tried to kiss, thought you kissed, etc...?

Sometimes I Feel Like This Guy

Evil



I will eat you!

Mid-Life Crisis(es)

Last night was a bit of a college reunion of sorts at Arlene's Grocery, where two bands came down from Beantown and played for an entourage of alumni from 1993 - 1999. Band members included an M-Eye-Tee PhD student, soon-to-be Atlanta university professor (post-PhD obviously), and a Rhodes Scholar MD-PhD in genetics from Haavaahd.

The smartest band Arlene's has ever seen I would guess.

Who has time to learn to sing and play in a band? All I have time for is heating up frozen noodle dinners and playing with Bruno.

While these future Nobel Laureates were jamming on stage, a bunch of us sat in the corner commiserating over how you don't really get to think in Corporate America - and things don't happen very quickly.

Who wants to start a band with me? I bet we can get that up and running pretty quickly...

Hi People

Evil

- Floyd Landis is innocent. The thing they're trying to do to him is a travesty.

- Big Head and I had burgers and beer together a couple of days ago.

- What's with all the flash floods in NYC this summer? Is the end of the world near?

- Why are Manolor's posts so mysterious? (BTW Manolo, it's not surprising that a girl wouldn't notice if you kissed her. I've heard that girls don't even notice when you penetrate.)

- I'm so chubby now that doing ordinary things is more difficult. For example, tying my shoelaces.

- I've recently noticed that I'm smelly. It's disturbing.

More Open Letters

Evil

Dear Guy At The Gym With The Milkiest Man Titties I Have Ever Seen,

Dude, the fact that you wear a skin tight Under Armour shirt is not helping the matter. Stop lying to yourself.

-----

Dear Guy At The Gym Who's In Love With His Own Cleavage,

Dude, guys do not really flaunt their cleavage. And if you were to, just go all the way and buy a muscle-shirt tank top. But no, you insist on working out in a (very) low v-neck Haynes tshirt. Who does that?? Oh, you.

-----

Dear People On The Subway,

Listen, they call it Rush Hour for a reason. People are in a rush. When the subway door opens and you step in, don't just STOP right there at the doorway. Move the heck in, people! It may SEEM like I'm jamming my groin region into yours, but really, I'm just trying to get to work on time.

Manolo Manscapes... and Lives To Tell

Evil

Manolo, you are so hilarious. Your post on craigslist is a classic.

Dear ESPN

Evil
I wrote and email to the ESPN.com people today. My email will never see the light of day, of course. But it felt better just writing it.

-----
Dear product managers, customer support team, and anyone who might be reading this at ESPN:

I don't imagine that I'm the first to write in about this, but I just need to get this off my chest... PLEASE stop it with the auto-play ads where Trey Wingo is hawing Mobile ESPN. You know it's annoying to your users. I think in your hearts you know that auto-playing the ads is disrepectful to your users. Yet you do it anyway.

I realize that you're a business and you need to make money. However, I think there's conclusive ad market research that says, beyond a certain number of ad impressions, the incremental impressions will make no difference whatsoever. That limit is somewhere between 3 and 5, depending on what research you believe. I had that Trey Wingo ad auto-play on my about 8 gazillion times now. Really.

I've started getting my sports news from FoxSports. I'll admit that typing "espn.com" is part of my muscle memory, but you know what, every week I find myself visiting FoxSports more and more.

You likely don't care about losing me -- a single user. But I'm sure many others feel the same way. Please, just asking for a little consideration and respect. It's a better way to sustain a loyal user base and positive brand.

Best regards,
(Evil's real name)
(Evil's real email address)
(Evil's real phone number)

Victory!

Evil



Tiger Woods won the British Open golf championships today and stuck it to his many doubters who said that steroids couldn't possibly be helpful to golfers. Game of finess my ass! Check out Tiger 'roid raging.

The Greatest Actor of Our Generation

Evil



The Greatest Actor of Our Generation? Woody Harrelson! He doesn't get enough credit, but think about all his virtuoso performances, including: The People vs. Larry Flint, Natural Born Killers, North Country, and White Men Can't Jump. Is there any male actor from our generation who's better? No!

Quote of the Day

Evil

I (briefly) saw my parents today. My mom said to me, "If you've been working out, how come you're still so chubby?" Thanks, mom.

Manolo Kisses A Girl On The Cheek

Last night I met up with a friend of the female persuasion...we go out a lot for dinner and drinks and there is quite a bit of ongoing sexual tension but for a variety of reasons I won't get into right now, we have kept it strictly platonic.

Last night we met for drinks and after a bottle or so of champagne, we decided to go to a club and try out some of the dance moves I picked up watching So You Think You Can Dance?.

After the successful completion of a very tightly gripped Salsa turn, I proceeded to kiss her on the cheek. All this happened in very slow motion because as I was kissing her, I realized what I was doing...You see, during a normal Manolo-woman romantic interaction, kiss on the cheek during a dance with little to non-existent space between the dancers is ONE of my patented ways of assesing the romantic disposition of my companion. Allowing me a kiss on the cheek opens the door for me to eventually stroke her hair or lower my hand a bit or caress her face or kiss her on the neck leading to that eventual first kiss...

Since I caught myself in the middle of this, I avoided immediate eye contact after the kiss and kept dancing so I really don't know what her reaction was.

The point of the story is and this is mainly directed to our one or two female readers...do you think she noticed? Do I keep my mouth shut and or do I clear the air by talking about what happened?

Manolo Gets Sued For Sexual Harrasment


Wouldn't the other world leaders qualify as co-workers? Doesn't that mean that Bush is on the fast track for sensitivity in the workplace training? If it had been me, I would have been sued for sexual harrasment...

Manolo's Public Service Announcement #2

A ten gallon hat hold only three quarters of a gallon. Wanna mess with Texas? Try simple math.

Sometimes I Feel Like This Guy

Evil



Hurtin'.

Michelle Wie Preggers??? More Proof!

Evil



AH! More proof that Michelle Wie is preggers. She pulled out of a golf tournament today, apparently due to "heat exhaustion." But check out the photo of her today. Holding her tummy! I think there's something kicking around in there.

What a Nice Guy

Evil



I'm in Washington DC today. I was just watching some ESPN on the hotel room TV. They were doing this "Make A Wish" segment with a dying 6 year old boy, Andrew, and his hero, New England Patriots linebacker Tedy Bruschi.

Usually, the Make A Wish stuff drives me nuts because why waste a good wish on someone who's 4 weeks away from kicking the bucket? But this particular segment was good, not because of the wimpy little kid, but because of Tedy Bruschi. On the field, he crushes pipsqueak running backs, but off the field, Tedy is just a guy who's good with kids.

The cameras showed him taking little Andrew around the stadium for an entire day. All along the way, Tedy made sure to explain all the details of what happens on an NFL game day. He was very detailed: from getting dressed, to doing the team cheer, to patting teammates on the shoulder pads before hitting the field. When the two got onto the field, Tedy was calling plays and handing the ball off to little Andrew. He let Andrew score a touchdown. And then for the post-game, they even did a little mock press conference, so Andrew could talk about his game-winning touchdown with only 3 imaginary seconds left (in the game, not his life). After ALL that, as if Tedy wasn't worn down enough, he even hit the showers with little Andrew. Tedy Bruschi is a good man.

Manolo's Public Service Announcement #1

Those girls in the 1-900 commercials aren’t necessarily the ones answering the phones. You’ve been warned...

Picking Up the Pieces...

Some days are like this.

Trading Up

Did anyone read this article? This guy is a genius!! If I were to follow him, it would go like this, and I would never have to leave my desk since all these items are from the [insert my company’s name here] internal bulletin board:

• A photo of Bruno for “Fitness DVDs”
• “Fitness DVDs” for “Cab share to JFK” (using KenTak3’s car)
• “Cab share to JFK” for “Dave Matthews Tickets”
• “Dave Matthews Tickets” for “American Idols Live Concert tickets” (thinking of Evil... but nevermind since Kelly Clarkson not on the tour)
• “American Idols tickets” for “$400 in Circuit City Gift Cards”
• “Circuit City Gift Cards” for “Lost wedding band” (after making proxy wedding band)
• “Lost wedding band” for “Men's Movado Sports Edition--Silver Face” (birthday gift for X-Tian)
• “Men's Movado Sports Edition--Silver Face” for “Week in Italian Villa” (trading out since X-Tian does not like bithdays, birthday gifts, or being timely anyway)
• “Week in Italian Villa” for “Hot Rod Lincoln - Mark VII - custom 5 speed, 5.0, very fast” (thinking of Mr. Shoulders)
• “Hot Rod Lincoln” for “Estee Lauder Makeup and Perfume Sets” (at the end of the day you need to look and smell good to get a man, woman or both)

Manolo Answers Some Questions

Wow Evil...I saw your comment...you are one impatient Asian...couldn't wait ONE week...

These are my answers to the questions posed last week which I found myself after extensive research on Google on my part. I was hoping to that some answers would actually come from our beloved Hose readers but like always, they fail to produce when it really counts...

Q: Do you know the way to San Jose?
A: I actually don't...First, I couldn't choose between San Jose, California or San Jose, Costa Rica. I eventually chose San Jose, Costa Rica and tried to Mapquest the trip to no avail...

Q: Voulez vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?
A: I tried to answer it but then I realized I didn't speak French so I used one of those nifty online translators. After finally figuring out how the translator worked, I was a bit confused. I didn't know if I was asking somebody else or if I was asking myself that question...to make my life and those of around me simpler, I will just say the answer is NO!!!

Q: How deep is your love?
A: I know Evil is reserving any personal answer to that question for his future cell mate. But assuming you’re asking me to generalize on those of a more feminine persuasion, the answer is: not very deep at all. I was privately relieved to discover that the average woman’s vagina is actually only about three inches from the opening to the cervix—but it expands during sex to accommodate nearly any size penis (as Evil’s mother’s exhaustive research has clearly proved). Still, if you think this means the deeper the love, the stronger the emotion, your whitesnake has another thing coming. In fact, sailing a big meat gondola into a short tunnel of love can shipwreck the mood-bumping against the woman’s cervix will actually make intercourse more painful for her. There’s no need for you to try any deep drilling anyway. According to sexual therapists, the vast majority of never endings are in the front third of the woman's love canal. So thankfully, the little squirts that compromise many of our Hose readers should be able to help their mate strike oil…

If you want a more lovey-dovey answer, you can try the following online quiz...

Q: If a No. 2 pencil is the world’s most popular pencil, why is it still No. 2?
A: I think is because everybody feels that they are not good enough to be No. 1. Therefore they can never use anything that’s No. 1.

Q: Who’s faster, the Road Runner or Speedy Gonzalez?
A: The world grinds to a halt awaiting an answer to this question. Oddly, the most obnoxious bird in the Mojave and the fastest mouse in Mexico have yet to face off, at least from what I was able to read online. Forget the roadrunner preys on mice and would gobble Speedy up before he could say “ole”. Zoologists who study the roadrunner (a flightless member of the cuckoo family) and garden-variety mouse suspect that the rodent isn’t up to speed and place their bets on the bird. Roadrunners clock an average 15 miles per hour while mice can only run two or three miles per hour. Besides, speedy’s sombrero would probably create some drag and slow him down even more.

Now I can finally get some sleep...

Dear Readers...

Evil



Dear Readers,

Maybe someone out there knows the answer... What's with soul patches? I don't get it. Why do soul patches exist? Is it to say:

"Hey, I'm a wimp!"

Or...

"Hey, I'm non-commital about facial hair!"

Or...

"Hey, this is my mouth, but I want you to treat it like a vagina!"

Any help would be appreciated. Thanks.

Too European

Evil



What the hell happened?! My TV is overwhelmed with European sports. Thankfully, we're getting rid of two today: it's the last day of Wimbledon and also the last day of the World F'ing Cup. But the Tour de France is still going strong and we're getting ANOTHER two weeks of it. I've actually been watching some Tour de France on ch. 122, the Outdoor Life Network (which is an ironic name because it's basically a channel for people whose only exposure to "outdoor life" is via their TV). I've learned that they have weird fashion rules in cycling. There are all these special jerseys that mean something:

Yellow Jersey - Overall race ("General Classification") leader

White Jersey - Best Young Rider (under 25)

Green Jersey - Sprint Leader

Polka Dot Jersey - King of the Mountains

But there's more! Get this... if you're the cycling campion of your country, you don't wear your cycling team's colors (e.g. The Discovery Channel team, The T-Mobile team, etc.)... Instead, you wear your country colors. Same thing applies if you're the world champion: you wear a rainbow jersey. Oh wait. This is all very complicated. I can't remember if the rainbow jersey means you're champion of the world, or just champion of Brokeback Mountain. Please, no more European sports! (But more Sumo Wrestling on ESPN2. That stuff rocks.)

Michelle Wie Preggers???

Evil



I've watched Michelle Wie on TV the past couple of weeks... and it looks like she's preggers! I didn't find anything reported in the news / online, so you heard it here first! I want credit for making this call.

Manolo Goes Online

What kind of warped hidden camera show is this? I am sure it could only have been done by Kentak3's people...

Is There REALLY A Difference?

Evil

Manolo Asks Some Questions

The following questions have been keeping me up at night...

Q: Do you know the way to San Jose?

Q: Voulez vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?

Q: How deep is your love?

Q: If a No. 2 pencil is the world’s most popular pencil, why is it still No. 2?

Q: Who’s faster, the Road Runner or Speedy Gonzalez?

I will post my answers to these burning questions next week...

Bye Bye Becks

Evil

It's been a tough couple of days for David Beckham.

First, he pulls himself out of his team's match vs. Portugal due to "injury." As he sat on the sidelines with teary face buried in hands, his team was booted out of the World Cup.

Following that, Becks called a press conference to announce that he's quitting as England's team captain. But Becks stressed that he still plans to compete for his country, just not as captain. When asked by reporters what led him to this decisions, Becks said: "Because I wanted to spend more time with The Bumpasaurus."

Outdated Movie Review - American History X

Evil



In American History X, Edward Norton plays a skinhead... a very buff skinhead. Just when did Edward Norton get so buff? Norton delivers a brilliant feat of acting in this movie, and not just because he manages to pull off not looking like the skinny little twerp that he is.

Overall, this movie is amazing. I think it's just a shame that they ran out of budget and had to film some scenes in black and white. There's no telling what the full potential of this movie could have been.

This is a movie that really makes one think. For example:

- Avery Brooks (from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine), plays a guy with 2 PhDs, is the Principal of Norton's high school, and rides around with the LAPD on skinhead crime investigations. How does someone have time to do all that and still be the captain of a star ship? Dude, I know how far away Deep Space Nine is. It's more than a 45 minute commute from out there to L.A.

- There's a scary rape scene in this movie, where 5 dudes grab Norton in the prison shower and then this huge dude, who must have been 8 feet fall, takes Norton from behind. Despite his tough guy role, Norton also demonstrates that he as sensitive insides: in the scene following the shower rape, he cries like a little bitch and begs Avery Brooks to spring him from jail.

- After Norton gets raped for the first time, I didn't understand why he immediately went and alienated his crew, the other skin heads. They were the only thing keeping Norton's butt away from everyong in prison who hated him, namely the huge black dudes.

OK, enough blogging. I need to go watch another movie.