Life's our oyster and we're gonna suck that bitch down with a champagne chaser.




  • Behavioral Therapist
  • MA Developmental Psychology, Columbia
  • BS Psychobiology/ French, UCLA




  • Movies to See:
    Mission Impossible
    Haywire
    Shame
    A Dangerous Method
    Underworld:Awakening


  • TV Shows to Watch:
    Portlandia
    The Life & Times of Tim


  • Book to Read:
    Game of Thrones
    by George R.R. Martin


  • Album to Listen to:
    The Black Keys
    El Camino


  • Person to Hate:
    Newt Gingrich


  • Group of People to Despise:
    Fox & Friends




 

Bitchin Links


Blogs and Writers of Note

Mary's Website

Mary's Blog

Ravi's Blog

Lauren's Blog

Cheryl's LiveJournal

TV Squad

The Soup

Cracked

Best Week Ever

The Chive

On Location Vacations

Cute Overload

Michael Moore's Blog

Joel Stein Columns

Maureen Dowd Columns

Secular Coalition of America

Richard Dawkins


Personal Stuff

My Facebook

My Twitter

My YouTube Videos

My DVD Collection

My Books

Machatz Self-Defense


For Politics and Political Satire

The Huffington Post

Salon.com

Politico

The Daily Beast

The Onion

The Colbert Nation

Truthdig

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart


For Entertainment

Ain't It Cool News

IGN

Rotten Tomatoes

DVD Active

Movie Stinger

AdTunes

The Daily Wav

Movie Mistakes


For Humor and Other Things

HuffPost Comedy

Funny or Die

The Lonely Island

Shit My Dad Says

F My Life

Daily Python

College Humor

Super Mario Crossover

People of Walmart

E-Mails from an Asshole

Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster

God Checker

Church Sign Maker

Strong Bad Email

Japander: See Actors Embarrass Themselves Abroad

Landover Baptist Church: Jesus Loves You Sometimes


For Bruins

The Daily Bruin

Bruins Nation

Bruin Basketball Report

UCLA Bruin Marching Band: The Solid Gold Sound

The REAL $UC Application

















 
Old Stuff

March 2003

April 2003

May 2003

June 2003

July 2003

August 2003

September 2003

October 2003

November 2003

December 2003

January 2004

February 2004

March 2004

April 2004

May 2004

June 2004

July 2004

August 2004

September 2004

October 2004

November 2004

December 2004

January 2005

February 2005

March 2005

April 2005

May 2005

June 2005

July 2005

August 2005

September 2005

October 2005

November 2005

December 2005

January 2006

February 2006

March 2006

April 2006

May 2006

June 2006

July 2006

August 2006

September 2006

October 2006

November 2006

December 2006

January 2007

February 2007

March 2007

April 2007

May 2007

June 2007

July 2007

September 2007

November 2007

January 2008

March 2008

April 2008

May 2008

June 2008

July 2008

August 2008

September 2008

October 2008

November 2008

December 2008

January 2009

February 2009

March 2009

April 2009

May 2009

June 2009

July 2009

August 2009

September 2009

October 2009

November 2009

December 2009

January 2010

February 2010

March 2010

April 2010

June 2010

August 2010

November 2010

December 2010

February 2011

April 2011

May 2011

July 2011






 








































Photobucket
 
Thursday, June 12, 2008  
How Do You Say "Kosher" in Swahili?
I tend to discuss things that piss me off but the truth is that many things make me happy. Mom having dinner for me when I get home. My girlfriend wearing those form-fitting black jeans I so enjoy. Attending a screening of the Battlestar Galactica season finale two days before it airs on TV followed by a Q&A with the cast and creator of the show. Then there are opportunities I find to make an awkward situation even more awkward, either by accident or on purpose, such as loudly inviting Starbuck to come sit next to me, with no success, at the aforementioned screening, leading to maniacal stare-downs from rabid fan boys around me, as well as my own girlfriend.

But truly, a smile can come from the most inane things that have no significance in the grand scheme of things, but dagnabbit, they're great while they last. Such as the moment I have the privilege to read the following:

Regarding the kashrut of giraffe, remember that the method of slaughter is as critical as whether or not the beast has a cleft foot. So, in order for a giraffe to be kosher, it must be slaughtered under rabbinical supervision in a humane manner, which is essentially a quick slash with a sharp knife to the carotid artery. Therefore, a giraffe killed by a big game hunter with a high powered rifle is not kosher. Now, while this is largely irrelevant concerning giraffes, it IS germane to the kosher-ness of venison. Deer, like cows and giraffes, have cleft feet; but again, a deer shot by a hunter is not kosher. However, your observant venison lovers (and it is a tasty meat) can get farm raised and kosher-slaughtered venison here in the US at a select few high end kosher butchers in places like NY, Chicago and LA. Thought you'd wanna know.
By golly I sure did wanna know because when I tag along on a safari with a local synagogue and our jeep breaks down in the middle of the Serengeti, I want to be able to know that myself, as well as my Jewish friends, will be safe to take down a giraffe or two and sap from it every bit of nutrition needed in our desperate hour of need. Brown and white polka-dotted shmear anyone?

No longer shall African beasts be passed over for shrubbery due to rabbinical decrees. I urge the Jewish community to not stop at the giraffe but to look to other animals of the wild. Why stop at the giraffe when the rhino, the meerkat and the warthog remain? Ok scratch the last one.

I don't know about any of you, but when I watch the opening sequence of the Lion King, I don't see a portrayal of beautiful exotic animals. I see a buffet.

3:59 PM
Comments

Share

Tuesday, June 03, 2008  
Road Doesn't Rule
As the big move approaches ever so slightly, I've come to recognize yet another advantage to heading off to the Big Apple: I will not have to drive anymore. That means no gas, no car insurance, no traffic, no accidents, no parking tickets and no dealing with extra large bags of douche on the road with me. My job entails a large amount of driving around the "Southland" (Fritz Coleman on Channel 4 gets to say it, why not me?) everyday and as a result...I hate driving now. Last month I drove 595 miles for work alone. That's 5 trips to the gas station in the month of May. To add to that are the embarrassingly large number of accidents and parking tickets to my name and yada yada yada my paycheck means nothing now.

Even though I am eager to give up my car keys, driving around LA does prove to be amusing at times. You drive by commercial shoots, mock tourists in those ridiculous pick-up turned tour trucks, driving on Sunset or Hollywood Blvds. has its appeal at times, but you always run into the prick or twelve along the commute. Usually these characters are fended off with a honk, a finger or a cut off (I'm not proud of this) or you just zen it out and let it happen. However, one such asshat surpassed the levels of douchebaggery known to the streets of LA. On my way to work going north on San Vicente one afternoon, I in the left lane approximately 3 feet behind a BMW convertible in front of me, innocent, as it were, then should dick weasel attempt to swerve in front of me from the middle lane, not once, not twice, but thrice, each time rejected not only by my insistent horn but by the laws of physics that prohibits two objects from occupying the same space at one time, lest they fuse into one object. I, not being at my most mature and composed self, passed the culprit and released from my right hand an appendage, third from the left, third from the right. I am the first to admit that this is not the appropriate way to approach such a situation, but it cannot be helped now. In any case, the same ass mongrel swerves behind me into the left turn lane and we end up next to each other at a red light. We make eye contact. He rolls down his window. I roll down mine. A stench of jackassity fills the air. He speaks first, in all of his over-gelled, Honda Civic, caucasian glory:

"What's your problem??"
"You tried to cut me off three times. There wasn't any room for you to go in front of me."
"BULLSHIT!" And he sped off.

I don't know if his abrupt departure indicated a conceit in fault or just an exercise in cowardice and further jerkocity. I was angry at first but then I laughed at the whole thing. The guy was a standard issue asshole, often found on this planet, frequently in LA. Nothing could be helped then to laugh and move on.

My mood was rejuvenated moments later when I ended up next to a van in traffic on Sunset which read: "Accent Plumbing: Where a flush always beats a full house." An ingenious (or twisted depending on how you look at it) ad man works over at Accent Plumbing, if you ask me. I expect a complimentary pipe cleaning, or whatever it is plumbers do, for that free plug on this prestigious site, Accent Plumbing.

Despite the amusement and convenience provided by having a vehicle, I look forward to leaving that part of my lifestyle behind, at least for a little while. One would think I would be more reluctant to leave my beloved Mustang, in all of its Windveil Blue glory, behind, despite our differences. But truth be told, I'm ready to leave Starbuck behind. I think the time apart will do us some good. And lord knows, the conjugal visits will be amazing.

3:13 AM
Comments

Share

 
This page is powered by Blogger.Humor Blog Top Sites