The Ninja Mitzvah: Part 2

Okay, here's Part 2 of the Ninja Mitvah. You should probably read Part 1 and Part 3 of the Ninja Mitzvah to acquaint yourself with the rest of the story.

Well, the Ninja Mitzvah went well. A fun time was had by all and everyone made it out with the same amount of fingers and toes that they came in with. Who could ask for more than that? After the ceremony, following our family’s tradition, we infiltrated a rival clan’s celebration and killed everyone who refused to support the Meiji Emperor’s appointment to the Japanese throne. Most of the people at the wedding had no idea what we were talking about so we killed them too. At first the bride and groom were upset, but when they realized that we had decapitated the guy who owned the catering hall and that they wouldn’t have to pay the balance of their bill, they invited us to sit down and have dinner with them. Since there were many dead guests, there were plenty of entrees to go around. You had a choice of herb crusted chicken or filet mignon. Good times!

Back to the story:

On the way down to the event, I had some blogworthy events. I got to drive the Ninja Heavy Armoured Assault Vehicle (“NHAAV”). I wasn’t used to it. The windows are small and it’s got more blind spots than Bush’s Iraq strategy, but it’s awesome to drive. Within the first 45 minutes, I almost got into an accident on the highway, but the NHAAV is so powerful that I didn’t even care. I felt invincible. I felt like I could take any lane I wanted and people would have to just get out my way because my NHAAV would demolish their little hybrid Toyotas, I felt like, well, like one of those assholes who drives a hummer…and I liked it. I think I could get used to being an asshole. Now I know how my brother feels 24 hours a day. I began to think about correlation and causation. Maybe people didn't drive giant SUVs because they are assholes, maybe they are assholes because they drive big SUVs. I asked my Dad how he liked driving the NHAAV.

Ninja: Did you ever run anyone over in this thing?

Dad: No…not yet. Heh heh heh. Don’t put that in your blog.

Ninja: Okay I won’t.

Oh man, look at this grill. This thing would be invincible in a zombie attack. You almost want the undead to rise up and roam the earth just so that you could show them you are not one to be fcuked with.










On the way down, I also saw a car on the side of the highway that was literally on fire. The woman ran out of her car and people were stopping to help her. I tried to get my dad to stop the NHAAV.

Ninja: Oh man! That car’s on fire, quick pull over!

Dad: Are you gonna try to help her?

Ninja: No! I wanna take a picture for my blog!

Unfortunately, Dad didn’t want to stop and by the time I got my camera out of my bookbag, we were passed the scene. Here is a picture that Mysterygirl drew to give you an idea.

I described what happened and she sent me this pic. I forgot to specify that the people were wearing clothes so she, apparently, drew them naked (but thankfully not anatomically correct, because this is a family blog). In her defense, I guess I didn't say that weren't naked, but (other than people in New Jersey) what kind of mental defective drives down the highway naked?


The ceremony itself was pretty interesting. I'd been to a few Bar/Bat Mitzvah parties when I was a kid, but never to the actual event. I got to phonetically sing in Hebrew, how cool is that? Shabat Shalom, bitchez!

Because photography is not allowed in a Temple, I was told by some of my Jewish relatives to get as many shots off as possible before the rabbi stops me, then plead catholic ignorance at the sacrilege I was committing. This didn’t seem plausible to me, because you’re probably not allowed to take pictures in Catholic Church either (actually, you’re not allowed to do much of anything in Catholic church except wallow in your own guilt). But I did it, and I immortalized my cousins’ transformation from boys to men.

At the Bar Mitzvah party, there were the usual jokes about the incongruity of their chronigical age with their being considered men. In the jewish faith, doing a bar mitzvah marks your transition from a boy to a man. Since I'm not jewish I became a man when I hunted and killed a bear using nothing but a compass, a bow and arrow and a loin cloth. Embarrassingly, I don't know how to use a bow and arrow, so when confronted by the bear I had to think of some other way to kill him. So I took off my loin cloth, and when the bear was distracted by staring at my junk (it was a female bear), I threw the compass at it's head and killed it.

Since my cousins are now adults, as their attorney I have advised them not to mention this ceremony if they are caught with a with over a kilo and the judge is considering charging them as adults. I have also sent a retainer to the Playaz to establish a legal defense fund for them.

After the event, I spent some time hanging out with my friend Double Down’s little sister, who is now semi-semi-famous. Apparently, she was in some commercial which is on TV in NYC every five minutes. She plays “Mairsol” a girl from Puerto Rrrrrrrico who is married to Russ, from North Dakota. This unlikely pairing required them to get a phone service with a long-distance plan that would allow them to call his redneck family in North Dakota and her racistly stereotypical Latin family in Puerto Rico for the same basic calling rate, with unlimited night and weekend calling. It’s for some Cable company in NYC which I’m not familiar with. (when I lived in NY, it sucked so bad that we didn’t even have cable…okay, I made that up, we did have cable, but it still sucked),

Anyway, it turns out that she is also a veejay on MTV. And she's living in sin with some semi-famous Latin music singer who's got a record deal with Sony. You can here some of his stuff here.


The reception was out of this world. I’ve seen a lot of weddings that were nowhere near as extravagant as this. It cost as much as my sister paid for her first house in Florida. I didn't take a picture of all the cool stuff, but this I had to immortalize:




The ice sculpture is something else, but those birds and the heart are carved out of a watermelon. Right now there is some guy in Long Island going to bars and talking to chicks and when they ask what he does for a living, he says "I make watermelon birds." Wow.



And here are the monogram thingies at the tables.


I didn't take a pic of all the food (because I'm not a loon) but this was interesting. Look at the chocolate covered strawberry. They used white and dark chocolate to make it look like a tuxedo. A little chocolate tuxedo.



I'll post the family pics next time because there are a lot of them and I suck with pictures. I know what you're thinking. I shouldn't have done Part 3 before Part 2, because now what will I call the post with pictures. That's a good question. We'll either call it Ninja Mitzvah Part 2.5 or maybe we'll call it the Appendix. Sort of like the reference section of a book, except with pictures of good looking people instead of the names of books.

Truth is stranger than fiction

There are things that one is never too young to learn. Among those, are fixing stuff and killing people. I bought my nephew toy power tools because he's already four, so he's old enough to tackle some rudimentary home improvement projects.



"Okay, I'll make you a shed, but I'm a union carpenter, so I gotta overcharge you, even though you're family."






I have fond memories of going hunting with my grandfather in Argentina when I was a little five year old. I remember when he killed an animal and ritualistically rubbed some blood on my cheeks to honor the occasion. I cried when he did it. But not because it's terrifying to a five year old to watch an adult kill something in front of you and wipe his bloody hands on your face. I was five, but even then I was too much of a man to cry for no reason like that. I was crying because, I, like, uhhh, pulled a muscle when I was uhhh, working on a transmission or something. What?

Anyway, I used to think that five years old is kinda young to teach a child how to kill something, but apparently I was a late bloomer. There's a guy in Illinois who got his son, Bubba (no, I'm not making this up) a license to own a gun. Bubba is 10 months old, by the way. You can read about it Here.

I have no idea if li'l Bubba can fix stuff around the house, but if he can handle a gun at 10 months old, I think that makes him an honorary ninja.

Progress Report and Abandoned Blogsperiments

I'm going to be posting less over the summer because

1. it's nice out and blogging requires me to stay inside;
2. I'm making some house progress, but I need pics to show you and posting pics is hard, even with a MacBook, if you're as technologically ignorant as me;
3. I have a job interview in NYC that I'm prepping for and if that job comes through, I may take it and quit blogging completely, so it might be good to cut down on it little by little;
   
4. I'm busy with stuff that I don't blog about.
   

But...I will try to post once a week for the time being. To fill you in on future happenings on this site:

1. Part 2 of the Ninja Mitzvah is almost finished. It's some of my finest work, which isn't saying much. You'll laugh, you'll cry...it will be like when Father Murphy had that tickle fight with you and the altar boys and decided to make it "shirts vs. skins" and things got weird all of a sudden.
   
2. I'll post some pics of the Kitchen Cabinets so far and the structural issue I need to address before I go further. Farther? Ummm, before I proceed.
   
3. I pick up the Tux on Wednesday, so I'll try to take pics and show you people. It's getting alterations now, so I don't know if it will require more than one fitting.
4. I signed up for that Donald Trump "way to wealth" seminar, after watching the annoying infomercials. I don't plan on buying more real estate (or his program), but I figured it would be cool to meet The Donald, and then make inappropriate cliche'd jokes about his hair, and his fondness for eastern european models that are half his age on my blog. The seminar is next week.
   

In the meantime: when I was bored with this blog I thought of doing a few features (blog experiments) and see how they go. Ultimately, I abandoned them all because I'm too lazy, errr, busy to do them, but here are the abandoned blogsperiments and plausible excuses as to why I didn't go through with them. If someone else wants to do them I don't mind, as long as you give me credit. And by credit, I mean cash.



Blogebrity Impersonator: In this experiment, I was going to guest post on certain “in character” blogs as the person who’s writing the blog. For instance, I guest post on your blog, pretending to be you.

Why I decided against it: There were a few character driven blogs or blogs that had a Schtick that I wanted to guest post on (like El Guapo or Jordan Baker’s Friday Q&A), but the one celebrity impersonation that I think I would’ve been best at, The Anonymous Lawyer, turned it down. So without that blog, I decided against it. If I went ahead with it, it would like going to Florence and not being overcharged to see Michaelangelo’s David. It would be like going to a strip club and not being told “if you touch my breasticles again I’m gonna break your fingers.” You sorta need the defining experience to pull it off. Anyway, if you 'd like for me to do it, send Anonymous Lawyer some nasty emails until he agrees, then buy his book on Amazon, to make it up to him.



Celebrity Interviews: I thought some celebrity interviews would be a good way to eventually get Judy Greer or Rachel McHottie to call me. Since I don’t know any famous people, I figured I would call up other bloggers I know and have them answer my questions by pretending to be the celebrity and using only information contained in Wikipedia.

Why I decided against it: I dunno. It seems like a lot of work. Who would I get to do the interviews? What if I didn’t like the answers? What if the blogger wanted to be some other celebrity. For instance, who would want to be Rosie O’Donnel, even if it was only make believe. Plus, if I did it on the phone I’d have to write it down, if I did it by email, I couldn’t ask follow up questions. IM, maybe?



Figuring out Women: Since several women have told me that if you want to understand women you should watch Sex and The City, and since it’s on in reruns every day, I figured I would watch it everyday for a month and discuss my thoughts on the show like once a week or something.

Why I decided against it: I watched the show for a week and a half, then I started getting stomach pains. When I went to the emergency room, the doctor told me that I was growing an ovary and that I should never watch SATC again. He said I was extremely lucky that they caught it before it was irreversible. If I had watched Grey’s Anatomy instead, I would have grown a uterus, which is incurable. So luckily I watched the show that has the chick with the horse face instead.


This Blog Writes Itself: In an homage to the retired Diet Coke of Evil, I was gonna have people make suggestions about what I should write about, and then I would write about it. For instance, some one could say “tell us about the first time you ever tried alcohol” I would write about the time I was in High School at a house party and a cute girl wanted to do a shot of vodka with me (I had never even tried beer before that). And how I tried to down it like I’d seen in the movies, but the vodka burned my mouth and I spit it out all over her Madonna-inspired hoochie wear. You know, stuff like that.

Why I decided against it: Felt too much like a Meme, which I don’t really do.



More Posts About Celebrities that I want to Nail: Although there are entire fan websites that do nothing but post pics and discussion about Judy Greer and Rachel McAdams, oops, McHottie, there are at least 8 other hotties on my Top 10 List of Celebrities that I would leave my future wife for. (Technically, I have 15 girls in my top 10 list, but I’m a lawyer so I can get away with stuff like that). So I thought about posting stuff about the other celebrities that I’m not-so-secretly in love with and why I want to nail them above everyone except 14 other women in the universe.

Why I decided against it: Eh? Do you really care about why I’d rather nail Eva Green than Angelina Jolie?

Audience Participation

Okay, I need some audience participation from the people in DC. I need to buy a Tuxedo sometime in the next couple of weeks. Now, read that carefully, I need to BUY a tuxedo, not rent one. I won't wear someone else's pants. EVER. There are three things that you should never rent or buy used:

1. Bubble gum;
2. hypodermic needles;
   
3. things that go on your crotch.
   

So what I need from you people is a place that sells tuxedos. I went to one tuxedo place--the one on P Street next to my tanning salon (stop laughing, you know you go there too)--and the guy showed me the rentable tuxedos, but the ones that you can buy only exist in the sample books. And I'm not spending that kind of money on something that I can't try on first. I also tried that JPress place on L Street. But they only had one tuxedo. ONE Tuxedo!!!

Now, I know that some people look like douchebags, no matter what they are wearing.

Yes, I'm talking about you, Ryan Gossling. And since you're dating Rachel McHottie, who is second only to Judy Greer in my affections, this won't be the last time you are mocked on my blog. So get used to it, asshat.

Anyway, some people look like douchebags no matter what they wear, but I am not one of those douchebags....errr, people. I want a tux that makes me look good.


So here's what I'm looking for:

A nice classic tuxedo. Nothing funky

Not like this tool is wearing.






Something like this maybe:





But nothing that makes me look like a pussy.




In terms of price, something midrange. (like $600-$900) I don't need an Armani Tux, but I don't want a cheap one either. It should be something that I could wear again (although I probably won't).

So do you know of any places in DC/MD/VA that match that description?

Blog Day of Mourning

Today, Friday May 4th, my ex is getting married. So this will be an official blog day of mourning on my site. Of all my exes, she is probably the one who would've made the best wife.

It's kind of ironic that when we were dating I couldn't remember our anniversary or her birthday, but I remembered the day she is marrying someone else. But life if full of little ironies like that. It's ironic that people tell me I should have more common sense, but common sense is the thing that tells you that the earth is flat. It's ironic that the Jehova's Witnesses tell me that I should find Jesus, but when I found him, he said "tag...you're it!" It's ironic that we have the best university system in the world, but we elect a functional illiterate to lead us.

Today is also the day a friend is making a life-altering decision. I won't say more about it, but I'll discuss it over drinks and dinner tonight with my friend and few others and although I think my friend's mind is made up, at least we can discuss it over a less erudite and more vulgar version of the Algonquin Round Table.