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
    A Dangerous Method

  • TV Shows to Watch:
    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


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


The Daily Beast

The Onion

The Colbert Nation


The Daily Show with Jon Stewart

For Entertainment

Ain't It Cool News


Rotten Tomatoes

DVD Active

Movie Stinger


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


Tuesday, October 27, 2009  
Freak Weights
One of the few perks behind paying tuition to a major university, aside from the whole "education" thing, is having access to a gym. Unfortunately, with the fortunes of an Ivy league institution come the follies...namely in the form of people. Sure, there are the stereotypical East Coast Trust Fund babies, your Chads, Prestons, Ruperts, Spencers, Sebastians, Archibalds and Abercrombies, but those are just run of the mill douchebags. With every one preppy a-hole on the Columbia campus, there are five socially inept space cases to go with them, not counting myself. And I'm not even including the professors.

In the gym, where you would think there would be a filter against the outside world....there isn't. Evidently, on the east coast, there isn't a thing called shame in the vernacular. Case in point with elderly, to put it lightly, men walking around in jock straps in plain sight of the general population. The, presumably, biochem and/or engineering and/or physics undergrad majors, on the weight machines equipped with buttoned-down shirts tucked into their khaki pants, fashionably matched to their loafers. This variety of people is par for the course, and I have generally grown accustomed to them over the past year.

That is until I encountered a completely new species of gym opossums (they do not qualify as gym rats in their present state).

During my 30-second rest between sets, which inevitably somehow becomes a 3-minute Gatorade break, an Asian lad, no older than 18, no taller than 62 inches, hair parted in the middle, bearing glasses, black Corduroy pants, black loafers and a black jacket, decides to stand not 2 feet in front of me. Head slightly bowed. With his eyes closed. Facing me. As I look around giving a, "Is anyone else witnessing this?" look to people, to no avail, I assume he's taking part in some sort of meditation. Under normal circumstances, if someone is waiting for a machine, either the user or the waiter would ask if they wanted to "work in" or switch off. But I was worried any interaction with Dalai Crazy would lead to me being added to some list.

With 3 sets left, I was beginning to think I was part of some social experiment. Was this person judging my performance? Probably not. More likely he was a lunatic. Gradually, more people began to notice my mini-standoff and what began as a look of peaceful, yet maniacal, zen...

...slowly turned into pure maniacal.

Not to racially stereotype. Or anything.

My sets were finally over, about 5 minutes later. Mao Zedemented hadn't moved an inch. I got up to get a towel to wipe off the machine, as is customary and courteous, and by the time I returned, he was already seated. Jacket, Corduroys and all.

While many people are speculating that people are becoming more and more rude, which I wouldn't disagree with, I would say that people are becoming more and more crazy. Or perhaps they were always around, but they just started hitting the gyms. Either way, it's a good omen for my field of profession.

3:37 PM


Thursday, October 08, 2009  
Subway Asylum
New York City is synonymous with public transportation... along with dirt, garbage and urine. It supposedly has the most reliable MTA system in the world and even if that's true, it doesn't come without its quirks. Sure, there are the charmers, such as the mariachi band traveling car-to-car on the subway, or the down-on-her-luck opera singer working for the same pocket change, but there are also the down-trodden, "Ladies and Gentleman, I have been diagnosed with AIDS," folks who challenge the inner cynic in everyone. Do you really have AIDS/Lymphoma/are Homeless, or is it an act? Some days I believe it and give some loose change or a sandwich, other days I feel bad but can't bring myself to rifle through my wallet and other days I feel, well, like a typical New Yorker, oblivious to my surroundings, only focused on my destination.

And really, how can anyone feel benevolent on such an oppressive, at times disturbing, mode of transport, that is required in such an already malevolent city? Here is a very brief list of the not so charming sights and sounds of the New York City MTA:
  • The man who wet himself on the 1 train, and the expression of the woman seated next to him who noticed too late
  • The orthodox jewish family of 14 screaming at each other in Hebrew across an entire subway car on the downtown 1 train
  • The disturbingly self-important posters and banners promoting "Harlem Heights," the BET version of "The Hills"
  • The endless ads for erectile dysfunction, yeast infection, erectile dysfunction, syphilis and erectile dysfunction
  • The woman who grabbed my arm, proclaiming "Great eyes!" as she ran off the subway
  • The man repeatedly playing the Superman theme song on his cell phone whilst commenting on every new passenger, proclaiming "I AM THE KING!" on the M57 bus
  • The woman yelling "STAY BACK STAY BACK" on the downtown 1 train
  • This doesn't have to do with a particular passenger, but having to stare at this poster due to the rush hour traffic on the uptown 1 train
  • The man cleaning his ear with a pencil on the R train
  • The two African-American women threatening to kill each other on the N train
  • The middle-aged, presumably sexually repressed, woman promoting her church to the predominantly secular strap hangers
  • Ok sometimes ugly children are so ugly they're cute but this kid is what nightmares are made of. I would cite his name but I'm too worried about him googling himself, then finding this site and coming to bite my ankles.
  • The troupe of transvestites loitering at the 72nd street station
  • The troupe of transvestites loitering at the 42nd street station
  • And finally, the man touching himself, ok who are we kidding - masturbating, through his pants at 8 in the morning on the uptown 1 train
New York City stocks its crazies by the thousands and it only reassures me that my chosen field of Developmental Psychology is the right path, because if I catch em young, chances are they won't urinate on me on a subway down the road.

5:03 PM


This page is powered by Blogger.Humor Blog Top Sites