Surfer Dude is a Super Dud

I saw the world's worst "comedy" movie last night, Surfer Dude. It was so bad, that I had to go home and look on IMDB just to make sure that it was a comedy. Prior to this, the two worst "comedies" I have ever seen were Lightning Jack and SpaceBalls. I laughed twice during Lightning Jack and once during SpaceBalls. I didn't laugh even once during Surfer Dude. Spaceballs was made after Mel Brooks stopped being funny, whereas Matthew McConaughey was never funny. Why do people keep putting this a55hat in movies? The only thing funny about him is the way you spell his last name.

So why did I go see it? Well...the awesome girl I'm dating keeps winning free tickets to movie openings. That's because I date winners, and if I'm not dating you, I'm not saying you are a loser, just that I've been busy and haven't gotten around to you yet. Last night night she won tickets to see a preview screening of the new Nicholas Sparks movie, Nights in Rodanthe. Afterwards there was to be a Q&A session with Sparks. I don't usually watch movies like The Notebook or Nights in Rodanthe because I don't have ovaries, but this was free and it was a date movie. Well, the line was huge, the lonely desperate women were lined up 3 deep to see this movie. I was the only guy in line, none of the other girls who are into Nicholas Sparks was attractive enough to get a date. It looked like a party for that sorority that focusses on academics rather than looks.

So, it turns out that because the producers wanted a full house for the screening, they gave away more tickets than there were seats. Rather than leave sulking like those sad, lonely women who gave up a night with their cats to see Nicholas Sparks, we snuck into another movie...Surfer Dude.

I took the liberty (because it's my blog) of looking on Rotten Tomatoes to see if I was the only person who hated this movie. This is the only movie I've ever seen on Rotten Tomatoes that got ZERO good reviews. One person said "Yes, this is a movie made by stoners for stoners." Well it's worse than that, because that insults good stoner movies like Harold and Kumar go to White Castle and Half-baked. Another called it "a hapless, laughless movie" and someone else nailed it with " a shapeless slog with virtually no tale to chase. "

It turns out that the female lead in this movie is the girl from Love, Actually. The one with the brother in the mental hospital who doesn't get laid in the entire movie. Well, she plays an uptight NY executive working on a surfing reality TV show and...get this...by the end of the movie, she undergoes a wardrobe and attitude change and has sex with Matthew McConaghey (sp?) and adopts the laid back LA lifestyle and forgets about the NY corporate world. Cliche much?

The only reason, well, women and gay men, will go see this movie is because McConahey (sp?) doesn't have his shirt on in the entire movie. There are some gratuitous boob shots in the pool party scenes, but nearly enough to make this movie worthwhile.

Matthew McConahgjeyaly: Grade: F! You suck, your name sucks, and you suck at surfing.

Nicholas Sparks: Grade: D! You suck, but I'm sure after the premier you didn't sleep alone. With a room full of lonely, desperate women you must've gotten lucky, but instead of trolling the bars you made them come to you. So you get a break because I wish I was smart enough to come up with that idea.

AMC Lowe's Georgetown: Grade C- You are not metro accessible, but you can get discount parking if you validate your ticket. Also, your popcorn, while overpriced, was good and very buttery/salty.

Update

Thanks for concern about me beeing shot. I don't know if I'm paranoid, but I think the pellet is still in my arm. I'm reluctant to take a day off work and go to the doctor just for that, but what happens if I leave it in there? Lead poisoning? Mental retardation? Voting republican?

In other news, I had a foundation guy come in and look at the bulging wall in my basement. He said the bricks didn't need to be pulled out and re-stacked, and is supposed to send me an estimate on how much it will be to repoint all the bricks that are missing mortar, take out and put back in the ones that are sticking out a bit and cover the whole thing up with parging (sp?), which is basically cement that I can just leave as is, or cover with drywall eventually.

The stairs that got warped will probably have to be replaced too, but I think I'll hire someone for that too. I am through taking on big projects. I'm still waiting for an estimate, but hopefully it won't be too bad.

I've been busy lately. Besides crying over Fannie and Freddie being nationalized by the Communists (I own stock in both companies), I have been really busy with non-work stuff. As for work...there may be some changes soon, but I won't say anything about it because I don't want to jinx it.

that time I got shot with a BB gun...

I haven't posted the follow up because I've been too lazy, to upload the picture. I like to think of it as being busy, but I'm sure catching up on Flight of the Conchords on DVD doesn't qualify me as a mover and a shaker in the corporate world. Donald Trump is not looking over his shoulder and worrying about me, which is fine by me. When my lotto tickets hit, he won't even see it coming.

So...the story. I was out with my lady friend salsa dancing and we came back around 3am. I changed out of my free beer shirt* and we went to walk the dog around the block. Have I mentioned that I live in what people in Bethesda would consider "the hood"? I know they say my neighborhood is "up and coming" but I really wish it would hurry up and get there already; wherever that is.

So around the corner from the ninja fortress, I hear a pop and feel what feels like a bee sting and notice I am bleeding. I didn't see where the shot was coming from, but I was pissed off. I heard more pops so I knew they were still shooting and I didn't want the girl or the dog to get injured so I walked them home. My first thought was to get my samurai sword (yes, I have one...don't ask), and look for who did this and teach them a lesson, but I figured I should call the DC cops (who suck) because I'm sure if I go there and cut someone's head off, then everyone will think *I'M* the asshole. So we call the cops and the patrol car gets there pretty quickly and the cops proceed to ask me idiotic questions:

Cop: Why were you walking your dog at 3:30 in the morning?

Ninja: Because she had to go to the bathroom.

Cop: aren't you afraid of walking around at this time of night?

Ninja: Not really...I know a little jiu jitsu.

Cop: How do you know you were shot by a bb gun? How do you know
they didn't just throw a rock at you?

Ninja: Because i'm bleeding...from this hole in my arm that's the size of a bb...it's right behind the hole in my shirt that's the size of a bb...I don't remember the last time someone threw a rock at me, but I'm sure it doesn't look like this.

Long story short, we had to wait 2 hours for a detective to arrive. we went around the corner and I showed her where the incident happened. She also asked how I knew it was a bb gun and I described the popping sound.

Detective: Like that popping sound?

Ninja: Yes.

Detective: it
sounds like it's coming from that streetlamp. Maybe it wasn't a bb gun?

Ninja: or...maybe they are still shooting at us...right now.

Yes, these morons were shooting...at two police cars. Then the cops spied a bunch of drunk kids on a nearby porch and went over and found the BB gun and cuffed the one who was trying to hide it. Since they didn't see who shot at us, what do you think they did?

a) arrested everybody and let them spend the night in jail until they turn on the shooter
b) beat the kid to within an inch of his life
c) let everyone go and confiscated their bb gun.

The correct answer is c). Yes, because that will solve the problem since I'm sure you can't buy another gun on eBay for $20. I may have the last laugh though. I got a good look at a couple of those guys and if I see one of them walking by himself I'm gonna tackle him to the ground and break his arms.

The next morning I find out that my date's car was broken into. They messed with one of the locks and broke a window trying to get in before the alarm scared them off.

I'm not sure if the BB fell out and I wasn't about to sit in an emergency room for 6 hours, so I just went home. And people wonder why I think DC cops suck. A couple of days ago I was walking towards the metro to get a bite to eat and I notice that a street was closed off. Apparently someone was shot a couple of blocks from my house. I wonder if they arrested that guy or just took away his gun?



Me with the free beer shirt and a hottie.













Me with the bullet hole.













*there is a story behind the free beer shirt, but the short version of it is that a gay guy bought me a beer once because he liked my shirt...well, that and because he was cruising for deviant sex.

The world's worst driver

I spotted this car on Florida Avenue and 17th street. There were no other cars involved in the "incident".

Sometimes people back home in NYC think I'm kidding when I tell them how bad the drivers are in DC. When I tell them that it snows half an inch and the entire city shuts down (no, really!), and people here don't even know how to drive in the rain. (maybe you should stay in Arizona or New Mexico or wherever the hell was cursed by the universe with no rain, and leave DC to people who know how to use windshield wipers).

But I'm not exaggerating. The only thing worse than the drivers in DC is the police force...and the school system...and the taxes. Maybe I should move to Arlington...or Bethesda? Anyone want to buy a 1/2 completed ninja fortress? I'll throw in a cute dog for free!

Busy Weekend

This weekend I was shot by BB gun while walking my dog and my date had her car broken into; I went to two clubs, 4 bars, an art show, a bar be que, a dog adoption event, and an improv comedy show. I'll post some pics of my "gun shot wound" with the recap tomorrow, but I'm tired right now and I have a headache. I don't have mixed feelings about gentrification because when my neighborhood looks like Bethesda, I'm sure I won't have to worry about car break ins and getting shot. Attention chain stores and yuppies: I welcome you to the neighborhood!!! So the next person that tells me they have mixed feelings about gentrification destroying the character of a neighborhood will get c0ck-punched by me. (I'm not kidding about this).

There's no Place Like Fridays...and a free plug

I got back into town a few days ago. Attending a vegetarian wedding, it turns out, is as strange as it sounds. I liked the wedding, except for the no-meat thing. I like hummus as much as the next guy, but if I go 24 hours without eating meat, I'll probably bite someone. The ninja clan hails from South America where people sometimes eat meat at all 3 meals. And sometimes during snack time.

If my cousin and her husband thought that animals were spared by not having meat at the wedding, they don't know me very well because the next day at brunch I had more bacon in one sitting than I ever had in my life. I can feel my veins clogging as I type this....mmmmmmm....bacon!!! Although I'm dating a vegetarian, she did not come to the wedding. I wasn't born yesterday and I know that the quickest way to end a relationship is to present all the dysfuntional members of your family to someone at the same time. It's like if someone asks you for a quarter for the soda machine and you hit them in the face with a giant sack of pennies. I know the analogy doesn't make sense to you, but then again you don't know my family.

It was good to see all the family in one place again. It seems like I only get see all of them at once during weddings and funerals, and usually they are better behaved at funerals. I learned some interesting things about vegetarians at the wedding (besides the fact that vegans are just too fcuking smug about how much they love animals), but that would probably make a good follow up post since I don't like too much in one sitting...it starts to feel like work.

BUT...on an unrelated note, I've been having a good week. Yesterday I did something that made me feel like a lawyer again (no, I didn't kick a homeless person or steal from someone's trust fund). I don't think the person I helped realized that my law firm used to bill me out to clients ant $300+ per hour to answer the same kind of questions, but I enjoyed doing it so it doesn't matter if it was free (well, technically it was for two bud lights). And if you're wondering, I don't think my advice was worth $300 per hour since a few of my clients are in federal prison right now (and I wasn't a criminal lawyer). But I look very convincing and authorative in a suit!

Since it's Friday, this weeks free plug goes to Matt Sesow and Dana Ellyn, two artists that I know. They went to china with nothing but their paintbrushes and bought all the paint and canvases in China and shipped their paintings back for their "Made in China" show at the Longview Gallery on 9th street in DC's Chinatown. The opening reception is Saturday from 6-9 pm. I hope that some of my tens of readers can make it.

Yes Man

What happens when you say yes? A friend was telling me about a book called YES MAN (See the link in the sidebar), where the author decides to say yes to everyone for a year. He says yes to people offering him pamphlets on the street, and inviting him to attend a cult meeting where people believe aliens built the pyramids in Egypt. Along the way he wins the lottery (and loses the money) and gets married. But changing his thinking changed his world. Well, I guess that's my point, but I don't really need a point, because this is my site and I can ramble if I want.

Lately, I've been saying yes to more things and being open to new possibilities. I went to a wedding that I was invited to (even though I hate weddings) and started dating a hottie I met there. I replied to an email looking for volunteers willing to participate for several hours a day in a project that would be turned into a book. As a result, I'm being featured in the book, almost got on a National TV show (they picked one of the others in the group) and got a free Carribean cruise for 2.

Now, I'm not saying you should say yes to everything. For instance, if some british guy in a bar buys you a beer and you thought he was being polite, but it turns out that he thought you were gay because you had a fashionable shirt on, you don't have to say yes to the offer of sex. This is a totally hypothetical story, by the way, and purple shirts are NOT gay. Jus' sayin'.

I'll say more about the book and the cruise when the book is closer to completion (I don't want to jinx it). But you can order the book through my NEW Amazon link on the sidebar and let me know what happens when you try it.

Extreme Foreclosure: Home Edition

I hate watching Extreme Makeover, because it bugs me to see a crew of people do more to a house in a week than I have done to mine in 3 years. Plus the background stories are really, really sad and if I wanted to watch something that made me cry, I would just do a google search for nekkid pictures of Rosie O'Donnell. Jus' Sayin'.

Maybe it's a symptom of the real estate bubble, or a metaphor for it...But...this STORY is amazing. It was the biggest and best house that Extreme Makeover ever built for a family. I don't know whether to pity them or be angry with them. A crew of 1800 volunteers, demolishes your crappy house and builds you a new one worth half a million dollars, and rather than thank your lucky stars, you take out a home equity loan for $450,000 and lose it on your construction business, then go into foreclosure!

I hate to kick anyone when they are down, but here are my thoughts:

1. If you were any good at construction, they wouldn't have had to tear down your old place for being crappy; you could've fixed it yourself.
2. I don't blame you for trying to get part of the American dream, but that house was friggin' sweet and all you had to do to hold onto it was not do anything stupid (they raised $250k for home maintanence costs and college funds for the kids), but you went ahead and mortgaged it to the hilt anyway?
3. Unfortunately, people will be less likely to volunteer and help their neighbors out when they hear about something like this.

There's probably a lesson in here somewhere, but I'm still trying to decipher that omen about the cat killing the mouse while I was walking my dog. Anyway, it's hard to feel bad for people when they suffer from self-inflicted wounds, but I hate to see anyone lose their homes no matter how foolish they were. What do you think?

Omen or Karma?

Sometimes it's hard to interpret random signs. Is it an omen? A test? A couple of days ago when I was walking my dog (not a euphemism for masturbation) I saw a cat pounce on a mouse and bite it to death as it was screaming. Is that a sign? If so, what does it mean?

A month ago I was at a bar and I ordered a drink, payed for it with a $10 bill, but the bartender gave me change for $20. Since I used to be a bartender and I know that it would've come out of her money at the end of the night, I waited in line at the bar again and gave her back the extra $10. The woman thanked me and one of the patrons felt it necessary to stick his two cents in.

Douchebag: why did you give it back? No one would've known if you kept it.
Ninja: Well...I would've known.
Douchebag: pshhh....if that was me, I would've kept it.
Ninja: Yeah...I know.

See, the thing is this: I'm not an asshole. If you do something objectively assholish, even if no one sees it, you're still an asshole. And your secret is pretty hard to keep because it will eventually bubble up to the surface. When you go out for dinner with friends, maybe people will see you not chipping in enough when the check comes around; maybe they will see you on the metro not giving your seat to a pregnant lady; or maybe they will just spot your Affliction T-shirt and dog tag necklace?

So yesterday I was meeting up with some friends here and while I was walking over from the ninja fortress, I spotted $15 on the ground. Since it had no one's name on it, I decided to pick it up and do what Karma intended for it: I bought beers for my friends with it. This was obviously a sign. I was going to a bar, and I spotted free money, so the universe was obviously endorsing that activity. Plus, I've got good Karma from prior acts, so this is the universe's way of saying "I like what you're doing, man, keep up the good work." Who am I to question the universe's master plan.

What I don't need to read.

When I read about a string of robberies in my neighborhood in broad daylight, I am not happy. Especially when one of them was on my block. From growing up in NYC, I think I can tell when someone is up to no good. Rather than wait for them to commit enough crimes that they eventually get caught (the DC Police Department sucks more ass than deviant anal p0rn) and maybe go to jail, I think the powers that be should give me a gun and a special license to shoot sketchy people (and Hockey Fan Douchebags).

I predict the crime rate will drop dramatically overnight (unless you count my shootings in the statistics, because I will take to my new job with unbridled enthusiasm). Now, I do hope that the people who were mugged are alright, but more importantly, I hope that this doesn't negatively affect my property values. With the way the stock market is tanking recently, I'm relying on the fortress as a backup for my not-so-secret become-rich-then-raise-an-army-of-zombies-and-take-over-the-world plan. And if all it takes for me to keep property values up is to run over a few low lifes here and there with my SUV, then I'm all for it.

EDITED TO ADD:

And...if you think the DC Police are trying to catch these muggers, think again. They are busy giving out tickets to bicyclists. Good job, dougnut boys!!!

Odds and Ends

I haven't done anything major around the house because I'm lazy and I'm saving the money I should be spending to make sure my house doesn't fall down in order to plan for my Thailand trip. One (of many) thing(s) that bugs me though, is the amount of debris I have in the basement (pieces of wood, scraps of drywall, dead hookers etc.). It's not nearly enough to rent a dumpster, but too much to have laying around, so every morning when I walk the dog (not a eumphemism for self-loving, I swear) I take a piece or two and throw it out in a public trashcan. I keep worrying that the garbage police are setting up a sting operation to catch me so I walk the dog up different streets and "diversify" my crimes across each gentrified street.

In the meantime, I'm not worried about getting a ticket for not taking care of the front area of my house since I read that the city fired 18 home inspectors for being too stupid or lazy to pass a test that's required for them to keep their job. I think the germans have a word for that feeling you get when you take joy from someone else's misfortune: schadenfreude. These are people who make their living giving fines out to people who are too lazy to mow their lawns and they get fired for being too lazy to meet their employment qualifications. Irony much?

Also, in a few weeks I'm going up to Boston for a vegetarian wedding (not making this up). I don't think I can go a whole day without meat, so I'm bringing some beef jerky to snack on during the ceremony and reception, just in case(still not making this up).

Odds and Ends...and a Batmobile

Well, the winner of my "where am I going with this" post is Dara from Blah Blah Blog, who correctly guessed "Thailand" (and incorrectly guessed a few other places). Since she's local, she's entitled to my microwave, which isn't the greatest microwave in the world, but it's free and I have no use for it since I installed the new microwave above the stove. If she doesn't want that, she can have some of the many books in my library. If she doesn't want them, then the runner ups, You Can Call Me Sir, or Moxie are entitled (and welcome) to them. I would've also given part credit to The Czech republic, Poland or Denmark (which are 3 countries in Europe that I haven't been to and plan to visit on my next trip there). I give no credit for guessing "Cleveland Park" because, quite frankly Cleveland Park sux. So although I did go there recently to say goodbye to a friend who is moving to San Franscisco, I only went there because it was close to her house, and there was plenty of parking and cheap beer (which is almost as good as cheap women, but without the need for penicillin shots the next week).





Moving on...





Last night I saw the Batmobile on Wisconsin avenue in front of the Quiznos Subs place. It was the new kick-ass Batmobile from the new batman movie, so I'm guessing it's here as part of some publicity stunt and not because Batman likes to buy his sandwhiches from overpriced chain shops. I didn't take a picture of it with my awesome phone because I didn't want to turn off the GPS system to take it. I figured I could describe it with a thousand words, which will be worth as much as a picture, but I decided to give up at the end of this sentence, so maybe a picture would've been in order.





Fourth of July...





I was supposed to go to a cookout but it got cancelled because my friend who was throwing it got his car window broken (yeah DC!) so he had to take it to VA to get fixed. I ended up spending the fourth at my place and cooking out with my date on my old school charcoal grill.



I took the opportunity to break in my 25 piece Sharper Image Grilling set. I had given the set to Ninja Dad for Xmas, but he already had a set given to him by my older brother (grrrrrr) and Sharper Image went bankrupt and stopped accepting returns, so it's been sitting in my living room for a year and half. But now that I've used it, I must say it's Swweeeeeeeeet!

In retrospect, I guess it looks a little suspicious to invite a girl to a party, then tell her that we're staying at my place instead, but she didn't seem to mind.

The next day the power went out in several blocks in my neighborhood. It was out from 9 am till almost 10pm. Not having power in July in a city that was built on a swamp sux because no power means no air conditioning (or TV, or internet). Still, hot sweaty sex with a 24 year old who works out several times a week is much better than watching re-runs of The Simpsons.

Where am I going with this?

My new passport came in the mail yesterday. The paperwork I filled out said it would take 4-6 weeks, but arrived about a week and a half after I dropped it off at the passport headquarters (which is very near my gym in Downtown DC). This is the first time I have EVER seen a government beaurocracy operate efficiently. Contrast this with the FIVE times I had to go to DC's DMV to get my license and car tags switched over from Virginia.

The picture looks terrible, but I don't blame the photographer as much as I blame genetics. I think the picture in my old passport looked better, but then again I was ten years younger at the time. Most people don't get better looking as they get older, and those that think they do are usually delusional so don't turn your back on them.

Anyway, I am planning a big trip. This is no secret to my real friends, but it may be to you imaginary people. In what may seem like a non-sequitor, I'm cleaning up my place and get rid of a lot of clutter. It turns out that I have waaaaay too many books (I read a lot because when I was growing up there was no internet...or unconditional love). So I've been going through them and packing them up in order to donate them to a used book place. In order to get rid of some books I have (and to get good ideas for my next trip), and to test your mind reading skillz, I want you to guess where I'm going. The first one to guess where I'm going will get a couple of books mailed to them on a topic that interests them (I have enough books that no matter what interests you I've got something on it). Or, if you're local, you can get a small microwave (not kidding about this).

Some people should never have kids

This is either the funniest or the cruelest practical joke ever. And if you think it's funny, maybe you shouldn't be having kids...or baby sitting...or playing with sharp objects...psycho! It reminds me, sadly, of the infamous Mazinga toy incident, when I was a child. I still haven't forgiven Santa for that one, and one day I'll come accross Santa in a bar after he gets off work at the mall and kick his ass for that one. Watch your back, Santa! You won't know when it's coming, but it's coming!

Wedding Crasher

I inadvertently crashed a wedding last weekend. I was going to a friend's wedding at a swanky place in Georgetown on 28th and Q st. I didn't know there were two swanky places there (one on Q st and the other around the corner on 28th street). So, of course, the cab driver drops me off at the wrong one.

The people at the first wedding seemed a little too douchebaggy to be friends with my friend, but I just assumed that they were friends of friends. I was on my second drink and getting hit on by a cute bridesmaid who was on her sixth (and wanted to get married, like, YESTERDAY, because all her friends are married and, she's been in 5 weddings this year, and why can't she find a cute guy who wants to settle down...) when she asks this:

Girl: so are you a friend of the bride or groom?

Me: I'm a friend of the bride. I've known her almost 10 years. You?

Girl: I'm friends with John.

Me: Who?

Girl: John...the groom.

Now, I knew something was up. Either my friend had met someone last week and fell madly in love and decided that since the wedding was paid for, let's get married, OR...I might be in the wrong place. I said I had to go to the bathroom and asked one of the staff what the name of this place was.

Me: So it's not the Evermay?

Waitress: No, that's around the corner.

Me: I feel like an idiot.

Waitress: Don't worry about it, it happens all the time.

Me: Really?

Waitress: No...not really, I was just trying to make you feel better.

So I sneak out of the first wedding and into the second wedding. But I am spotted and I have to tell the story. BUSTED! Anyway, I won't go into too many details about the wedding, but, here are some highlights.

1. at one point during dinner someone giving a toast for the bride says something about her home state's (Kentucky) sports. Then people from the grooms side start singing the Clemson University fight song. Loudly. during dinner. Not making this up.
2. There were apparently weeks of "discussions" about the wedding cake, so they had two cakes. One traditional, and one was, I sh1t you not, a fondant cake that was a perfect replica of the Clemson mascot (a tiger) straddling a giant boulder.
3. I was stuck at a table with two vegetarians, one of whom (who was not gay) offered me his meat in exchange for my vegetables. I said "I don't want your meat, but thanks anyway".
4. Someone's date gave me her phone number when her date went to the bathroom. The bride saw this and said something to me about it.

My friend, being very southern, tried to make the most of the mascot cake and thought of something romantic to say about a cake with a tiger and a rock. Although there is not much, romantically speaking, that you can say about a tiger and a rock, she pulled it off, She said:

"This boulder was donated by one of the Clemson alums and the players all rub the rock for luck right before a big game. His only stipulation on the gift was that 'if they aren't willing to give 110%, then tell em to keep their hands off my rock', which is how you should go into a marriage...willing to give it 110% or not at all." Awwwww...If I had ovaries, I would've probably cried at that.

On the way home, I got a stuck with a nigerian cabby who told me that weddings are a good place to pick up women, then proceeded to bombard me with pick up advice and suggest further materials for me to order. (not making this up) He told me he was a pickup artist, and recited a list of his idols and told me I had to order this stuff and that he had a lot of trouble getting dates before he found this material (which may have something to do with the fact he drives a cab and gives random strangers advice on getting laid, but i digress).

He said that, believe it or not, driving a cab is a great way to meet women because in a club they can walk away, but in a cab they have to talk to you. By that logic, I guess other great places to meet women are elevators, toilet stalls and women's prisons.

So I made it home, walked my new foster dog (who HATES other dogs) and debated whether to write about this. Wedding Crashers? Tiger Cakes? Nigerian Cab Romeos? Vegetarians offerring me their meat? Who's gonna belive this?

Wow, Gasoline Really IS Expensive

On Friday I realized how expensive gas has really become. After the gym, my friend Uncle Rico and I were having beers at my place before we went out. When we went to our vehicles afterwards, Uncle Rico's truck smelled like a gas station. He has a pickup truck that's pretty high off the ground. When we looked underneath it, we saw that someone had cut his fuel line and stolen his gas!

Now this sucks on many levels. If they had siphoned the gas from his tank by unscrewing his gas cap, then he would be out $50 for the gas, but it wouldn't be a big deal. Since they cut his fuel line, he was out of gas and the truck wasn't going anywhere until he got a mechanic to come out to my neighborhood to fix it. And mechanics don't like going to work on a Saturday (join the club!), especially if they have to go to a neighborhood where people steal gas.

I like my neighborhood (kinda), but no one steals gas in Bethesda. So you can make fun of the burbs all you want, but at least you don't have to worry about your gas being stolen, and you don't have to buy your chinese takeout from behind bulletproof glass.

hurtin'

I'm not 22 anymore. It used to be that I could go out drinking till 4 in the morning and be walking around like nothing happened by 9 am. But your 30s are different from your 20s, and not necessarilly in a good way.

My friend Dirty Dave, who I've discussed here and here, is in town for a couple of days. We went out drinking (bad idea number one), and did more drinking (still a bad idea) and even more drinking (now a really bad idea) ended up in a strip club where I learned that someone I know in real life works as a waitress. Don't worry, sweetie, your secret is safe with me (and the imaginary people on the internet). At some point during the night, Dave tries to convince us to go the massage parlor/whore house up the street.

Me: Dude, you haven't lived here for four years, what makes you think it's still in business.

Dave: [so drunk he's slurring his words] because that place was FCUKIN AWESOME, man and when a whorehouse is that fcuking awesome, it stays around forever! My grandkids will be fcuking hookers there one day.

Me: Well, I hope they get new ones, because those whores will be pretty old by the time your grandkids visit that place.

I decide to take a pass on the whorehouse because I don't even like using public toilets so using a public va-jay-jay doesn't really appeal to me. I stay at the strip club with the girl I know, Papa Doc and Old Skool while Dirty Dave and the Weasel go to the whorehouse. After about half an hour Dave comes back and he's not all that happy.

Dave: Man, that place is going down hill. Those hookers were in the mid 40s and a little on the heavy side.

Me: So what did you do?

Dave: Is that a trick question? I fcuked her...

There is more to this story, and while it's really funny, I'll keep it to myself since this is a PG-13 rated site. He's still in town for another day and he challenged me to another eating contest at Fogo de Chau, but I don't really think I'm up for it. I'm so hungover I can barely hold down coffee, I don't think I'm ready for unlimited grilled meats.

updates and such

Well, I'm planning on taking it easy this weekend. Maybe some tidying up around the fortress, but no actual work. I'm trying to get a couple of foundation guys to come in and take a look at my basement brick "issue" next weekend, so thinking about my house falling down and burying me alive while I curse the heavens, or me spending lots of money to keep it from doing so hasn't inspired me to do much of anything else.

In other news, now that gas has been over $4 a gallon for a while, I have been noticing a few things around this city. People are, understandably, driving less so I'm getting much better parking spots than I was before. I've been getting good spots in places like Dupont and Adams Morgan where, if I had told you I got a good spot there when gas was $2 a gallon, you would call me a liar. Also, when I go out, I see far less "bridge and tunnel" douchebags at the bars I'm frequenting in DC. (I'm sure if you go out to a bar in Arlington now, it looks like you died and went to douchebag heaven, but that's a different post for another day). On the bad side, gas is expensive so I shell out $40 and it doesn't even fill up my tank. Sacrilige!!!

Also, on my commute to work, the trains have been way more crowded than usual. They usually get a little more crowded by tourists this time of year, but I doubt these people that are annoying me are tourists. They look like people who used to drive to work and are upset that they have to ride in tin cans underground with the rest of us peasants. Well, you know what, Lord McPrissypants, you suck. You don't know where to stand on the escalator, you're not smart enough to figure out that standing in the doorway when people are trying to get in (or out) of the train is something that only idiots and inconsiderate people do.

And lastly, I got down as far as 164.4 pounds today. I don't know if I'll go to the tournament tomorrow because although I can lose 5 lbs right before weigh ins if I really wanted to, I don't think I can recover and be strong enough to compete a couple of hours later. Also, I reinjured my elbow a leeetle bit today at the gym so even at full strength it might not be a good idea to push it. I'll see how I feel about it tomorrow morning.

miscellany

I had a couple of contractors in to take a look at my basement. I've gotten such aggravation out of the top two floors, that I really don't want to mess with the basement so I was toying with the idea of hiring someone to do the whole basement. I have someone in mind for that, but the guy doesn't do foundations and he pointed out something that he thought I should get checked out before he started. And no, he didn't point out a pre-cancerous mole or anything, although what he did point out was almost as frightening.

By the stairs there are several bricks with no mortar. Apparently, sometime in the past 100 years, water got in and washed out the mortar. In ye olde days, mortar didn't have portland cement like it does nowadays. I ye olde days, they made the stuff between the bricks with one part lime and 3 parts sand, the same way that they've been making it since Roman times.

So the first guy looks at it, takes some measurments and gives me a quote of $650 to repoint the brick. Sounds good. I can handle that. The only reason I didn't say yes was that I wasn't sure that he knew what he was doing. He was going to repoint it with cement, but with old bricks you need to do it with the old timey mortar otherwise the new cement is harder than the brick and it will crack the bricks when the bricks expand and contract when the seasons change. Even I know that, and I suck.

The second guy comes and won't give me an estimate because he says that I need a structural engineer to look at it first and do a study. I know estimates are free, and I like free, but I had the feeling that studies aren't free. Studies sound expensive. He said he'd have his office call me to set up an appointment with an engineer, but that doing the study and running tests (tests? that sounds even more expensive) would be $500. And that's before they even do any work. Ouch. Anyway, the guy never called. How can you scare me like that and then not call me? If anybody knows a good structural engineer or whatever (and by whatever, I mean a foundation guy) leave me a comment in the comment box.

I'll try to take some pictures of it, but it's too depressing to look at now.

In other news, my quest to lose 15 lbs in 15 days hit a road block when I plateaued like I did last time. I was stuck at 168-169 lbs, but today I worked out in the morning and ran 3 miles at noon and managed to get down to 166.7 pounds (but then I had lunch). For the next few days I'm going to keep working out twice a day and eating nothing but things that are green (green beans, raw broccoli, celery) and taste disgusting or fruits (cherries, blueberries and strawberries that I use to reward myself after I work out) and water...and coffee. If I can get down to 159 by sunday morning, I'll go compete, if not I don't want to go. It would suck to be at the bottom of the 160-180 lb weight class and humiliate myself. If I wanted to publicly humiliate myself, I don't have to go all the way to Richmond to do it. I can just walk around DC in a "McCain for President" t-shirt and save myself $100.

In other news...on Saturday, the National Geographic in Downtown DC is having some kind of film festival and is showing some of my favorite Kung Fu Films from my childhood. I don't know if I can make it, but it's not big deal since I already own two of the films, 36th Chamber of Shaolin and Executioners from Shaolin on DVD. (not kidding). I'm hoping that before I die I can find The Five Deadly Venoms on DVD so that I can have all 3 movies buried with me. (still not kidding). Anyway, those of you in the area might want to check it out.

Also, not kidding about the basement. Leave comments in the box if you know somebody.

The Time I weighed my Poop

I'm beginning to have sympathy for what you women go through. I always hear women complain about trying to lose weight and I never gave it a second thought because after being forced to watch a few Sex and the City episodes I realized that women can complain about anything. ("these shoes are ugly; these shoes look nice, but they are uncomfortable; I don't have enough dates; I have too many dates; the sex is bad; the sex is good...but it's too good; my apartment is too small; I have too many shoes; all my friends are getting married; Samantha has syphillis...wah wah wah).

But I'm thinking about going to another jiu jitsu tournament next saturday near Richmond, so I wanted to get down to 159 lbs and I realized why women complain about losing weight. It's HARD. You're hungry all the time and the only food you can eat is stuff that tastes like crap. I was at 175 pounds last week, but a lot of it wasn't muscle. That would put me in the 160-179 lb class, but I am sure that there will again be a lot of bigger guys there (200 lbs) that cut weight to get down to 179 and I don't feel like getting my arm almost broken again. I need to get down to a weight where I'm less than 10% body fat, and for me that's 160 lbs. It took me almost two months for my elbow to heal since last time so I want to fight at the right weight this time: 159 lbs. I cut out sodas (bye bye cherry cokes) and started eating salads (how gay is that?) and I am now 168 and miserable. I've been obsessing about calories and weight and working out like a fiend to get rid of the excess baggage. I was talking with my friend Uncle Rico (former Division I wrestler) about cutting weight:

Uncle Rico: Train yourself to take dumps in the morning.* You might be able
to drop a pound or a pound and a half before weigh ins if you dookie in the
mornings instead of the afternoon.

Me: Is it that much? How do I find out how much my dumps weigh?


Uncle Rico: Take a dump in a shoe box and bring it in. My buddy works in a lab and he can weigh it for you.

Me: [stunned silence]

Uncle Rico: Yeah, I've done it before. Just make sure you cover it with talcum
powder, otherwise it's disgusting.

Me: I don't care if you cover it with pixie dust, a turd in a box is still nasty, I'll try something else.

Pooping in the morning sounds like a good idea though, I must say. So was curious to know how much my dumps weigh because I want to weigh 159 exactly at the tournament (not 157 or 155) so I wanted to find out how much I could reliably cut by going to the bathroom, but pooping in a box is kinda sick and gross. So did the next best thing. I used the bathroom scale and I weighed myself before and after I pooped. I did this several times to ensure consistency. And I deduced my poops weigh between 1.1 and 1.4 lbs. Now I just have to train myself to go in the morning.

*Other weight cutting tips: drink lots of fluids and eat nothing but rice cakes for the week before the match. The last day don't eat anything and pee as much as possible.

Miscellany

Okay, the results of last post's poll are in. Usually I don't give any weight to polls posted on my site because the results don't come out the way I wanted them too (for the record, my sweater was NOT gay, and neither is any dog, no matter the size). But surpisingly, by a narrow margin, the voters on my site (unlike the voters in the last two presidential elections) showed some sense and decided that the weird guy with the rainbow hair is, in fact, George Clinton.

But speaking of gay...if you are fan of "Fight Club" and other Chuck Palahniuk's books, then you can go to his book signing on June 3. I haven't been able to make it through a sitting of Fight Club without falling asleep (I tried twice). The only reason I can find that some guys think this movie is great is that they are closet homosexuals who hide their insecurities by fawning over this homo-erotic ritualized violence and faux philosophy about why it's okay to be a underachiever with no direction. Keep lifting weights, taking steroids and walking around in a t-shirt that's a couple of sizes too small, but don't think you're fooling anyone.

Moving on...if anyone reading this lives in Virginia, there's a good art show in Staunton that you might want to check out at Kronos Gallery. It's by avant garde, anti war artist Joroko. I have a couple of his pieces displayed in the ninja fortress. And...next week is the last week for Artomatic, so be sure to check that out before it closes. Be sure to catch the exhibits by Matt Sesow and Patrick Wilson there.

And lastly, I don't want to pat myself on the back too much, but I was particularly proud of not losing my temper on Friday. There's a hipster bar a few blocks from the ninja fortress that I've only been to about 5 times in the 3 years I've lived there. The reason I avoid it is that I hate hipsters way more than I love cheap microbrewed beers and emo music. Anyway, I was on a date and at the end of it I stopped in to get a drink at the place at one of the outdoor tables. (I hate going inside because it's crowded and hipsters hate soap like Bush hates the constitution) There was a table outside but only one chair and the girl offerred to grab another one from one of the other tables, but I said I would do it (because I'm a gentleman).

There is a long table (several tables pushed together by hipsters to form a douchebag black hole) and a couple of empty seats. I asked if they were taken and they said that, no one was sitting in them, but that they were saving them for their friends who were coming later. Now, I think I mentioned before that I'm pretty good at keeping my cool, except when someone bigger than me (which is, statistically, over 50% of the population) tries to physically intimidate me. Then, as the douchebags say, it's on like donkey kong and it usually get's ugly quicker than a game of strip poker with Oprah Winfrey and Rosie O'donnell. So it's 4 hipsters and their girlfriends and me discussing the chair:

Me: well, you can't just save a seat like that at a bar, if---

hipster one: who say's we can't? Is there a bar rulebook or something?

hipster two: we took those chairs, so we can reserve them for whoever we want.

Me: [starting to get upset] really?

hipster one: yeah, really!

[take a deeeeeep breath]

Me: yeah? Well guess what? this argument is over, I'm taking the chair

[takes chair]

hipsters 1,2,3 and 4 [unintelligible yelling and threats about ass-kicking].

I think that was the right thing to do. Keeping your cool is always the best choice. He was trying to push my buttons and intimidate me into backing down so that he could look like a real man in front of his girl, but I didn't play his game and I also didn't let it get physical. I didn't want a fight, I wanted a chair...and I got what I wanted.

You Be the Judge

A few months ago I spotted what may or may not be George Clinton in my hood. I walked in front of him to make sure, then I snapped this pic with my old camera phone. I didn't speak to him because, well, because he's George Effing Clinton and you just don't go up to him unless you've got something to say (or some free pot). And I was coming home from work (wearing a tie!) and I didn't want him to think I was a narc. Although my friend's band opened for him and P-Funk several times, I don't know him personally and I didn't have any free pot for him, so I settled for taking this secretive picture from behind rather than approach him from the front and start talking to him like kind of yuppie with a freaky man crush.

I was telling a friend the George Clinton story last week and showed the picture to prove it, but (maybe because of the small screen on my phone), my friend doubted it was the man from the mothership and instead insisted that I had snapped a picture of a really weird homeless guy. So I'll leave it to you imaginary people to decide:

Return of the Mouse Commandos

The Fortress has been mice free for a year and half. I hoped that by killing all of them with the precision that only someone like me that is 1/4 German and all ninja could do, that it would forever deter others from ever trying to come back. Unfortunately, mice have a short memory. I don't think I cook enough in the fortress for a mouse to survive on my leftovers, but I do live in a townhouse (unless you are trying to kill me, in which case I live on a farm in Kansas) which makes it difficult to avoid invaders because they could come from either house next to me.

I saw one the other day. I dug through my stuff for the mouse traps that I hoped I'd never need and I caught one a few days ago and another last night. But I noticed a strange thing...on a couple of the unsprung traps, the traps were still in place but someone had eaten the peanut butter out of them, but not sprung the trap. Mad skillz, yo!!! I loaded them up with peanut butter again in the hopes that the mouse will get cocky and then I'll get him.

Also...some a-hole put a car with no plates in my driveway. We know how I feel about that. I kicked it a few times (not kidding) , and left a nasty note on it and promptly called the cops to have it ticketed and towed. I don't think the cops will do anything about it (when have they ever done their job?) but we'll see.

Free Plug Fridays...on a Tuesday

I usually wait until thursday to plug stuff for which I don't get paid, but one of the things I'm plugging is on thursday, so the effort will be useless if I do it on friday, unless you have a time machine...but if you had one of those, I am sure that you have better things to do with your machine, like travelling backin time to kill the scientist who came up with the idea for the super particle accelerator in switzerland that may destroy the earth.

Date Number One: This is a little independent film that I saw a couple of years ago. I like to support independent film makers and this film in particular because it's got 3 short stories in the movie and one of them is about a guy who dresses as a ninja, going on a blind date. The director told me that it was VERY low budget (like less than $20,000, including the camera equipment) and sometimes it shows. But if you're interested in storylines and good dialogue instead of fancy lighting, sound and special effects, then go see this movie. If you want special effects with no storyline and crappy dialogue, then have fun renting the last three Star Wars movies on Netflix. Anyway, there is a FREE SCREENING in Silver Spring on Thursday. That's right, I said free. I know a lot of you are thinking "if it's free, it's for me!!!", but you should check this out because it's a good movie, not because it's free. Just because something is free, doesn't mean that you'd want it. If I was offerring free kicks in the nuts, would you want that? huh? Huh? that's what I thought...anywho...Click THIS LINK to get the details.

Redbelt: this a new film by Pulitzer Prize winning author David Mamet. Those of you who know Mamet's work know that he's a great writer and his plots usually have as many interesting and exciting twists as a yoga class at an all Girls Catholic School. MMA buffs will like the cameos and bit parts by a who's who in the martial arts communtity. (Randy"Captain America" Couture, Jean Jaques "I was born with one hand, but I'll still kick your ass" Machado, Dan Inosanto, "Judo Gene" Lebell (a/k/a the guy who choked Steven Seagal unconcious, at which time he uhhhh lost control of his bodily functions and soiled himself), Ed "Al Bundy" O'Neil, Enson Inoue etc.). Whenever someone tells me that people are not as dumb as I think they are, I look at how many people will go see a movie like this or this when they could be seeing Redbelt or some other movie with a non-formulaic storyline and I think I'm right again.

Grrrrrrr....

Someday someone will invent a device that allows you to punch someone in the face over the telephone. When that day comes 1) he or she will be very, very rich; and 2) I will buy the first device (even if it's still in Beta testing).

Yes...it's one of those days, and no, I can't give specifics. But now I judge Russell Crowe less harshly for throwing a phone at someone in NY. I'm not saying what he did was okay, just that now I get where he was coming from.

Also, is it just me or is everyone sick of the whole Obama vs. Hillary thing. Every 3 days there is another primary that is "crucial" for each of them to win the nomination. It's like watching Indiana Jones escape from one death-defying predicament after another, each more dangerous than the last, except that instead of being filled with adrenaline-packed action sequences it's boring, montonous and filled with ill-fitting suits and overweight bald, male political comentators in their late 50s and early 60s. And what's with all the American flag lapel pins? Was there a sale at the americana isle of the DC Walmart?

The night is made for infomercials

If each of us has some kind of internal clock that tells us when to wake up and go to sleep, then the warranty on mine must've expired. Either that, or it was manufactured in Turkey by illiterate toothless hillpeople who were hired to make it when the factory relocated from Vietnam because the hillpeople were willing to work for ten cents an hour less than the barefoot former vietcong in southeast asia. Damn you outsourcing!!!

Yesterday, I was supposed to call someone at 10pm. I put my head down for a nap at 6 and woke up at 2:30 am. Sadly, this has been happening a lot lately. I wish I could blame the drugs, but I haven't been taking any. If I had, I would have an excuse that would eventually become an interesting anecdote that I could tell my future grandchildren. "Stay away from drugs, kids. Lots of people die from using drugs, and some of them, like me, sleep for inordinately long periods of time and wake up feeling no aftereffects, except for a feeling of restedness followed by feelings of Catholic guilt, which are completely undestandable since I've been haunted with them since my traumatic parochial school years."

I think I should stop with the Catholic jokes since I haven't been to church in a good long while. I did attend Catholic schools when I was younger. The tuition covered unlimited helpings of guilt and an exceptional education in math, english and science. Before anyone makes an inappropriate joke, I should mention that alhtough I attended Catholic school, I was never molested by a priest...they charged extra for that. Moving on...

I have a list of things to do around the house and I keep meaning to get around to them, but lately I've been falling asleep and waking up at really odd hours and I don't think my neighbors will apreciate me running my table saw at 4am. So I've been doing what everyone does at 4 am. Watching infomercials. I've decided that I'm thinking about doing the p90X exercise program. Because the first step to actually doing something is to think about it; so for a while I've been thinking about thinking about it, and yesterday I decided to think about it. There are only a couple of metaphysical steps in between that and actually doing the exercises. Some of those before/after pics are pretty impressive. But it probably requires a lot of effort. We'll see how I feel after today's nap.

Speechless

There are very few things that leave me speechless. I'm a lawyer, so words are the tools of my trade. Like a carpenter's hammer, a surgeon's scalpel or a trophy wife's breast implants, words are what I use to earn money to keep a roof over my head. So it's not often that I forget how to use them.

However, yesterday I was driving to my meditation class and I saw the funniest thing i've seen since Superbad. I whipped out my cell phone, snapped a picture of it and emailed it to my friend with the only words I could think of to mock it: "HAHAHAHAHAAHA!

When I first bought a phone with a camera, I hoped that one day I would find a use for it, but it stayed in my pocket eager but without a purpose, like the condom in a high-school kid's wallet. "Someday" I kept thinking..."someday." Well, yesterday was like the prom for me. I almost crashed my Ninja Lite Armoured Assault Vehicle at the site of THIS:


A guy in his early/mid 50s, bald, with a reallllly bad comb over, driving a T-bird convertible. As he drove the comb-over would flap wildly in the wind, then at every red light he would stop and fix it back in place. As if all it needed to stay in place and look like a normal head of hair was to be patted down one last time.

With his Ray Bans on and his convertible he was making eye contact with the 20-something cute girl in the next car. (why aren't men in their 50s attracted to women their own age?) In his mind I'm sure he felt like he was Tom Cruise in Risky Business. But the girl was kinded of creeped out by someone her dad's age looking at her sexually; and I had this reaction: HAHAHAHAHAhAHA!!!

I drove up next to him and thought of rolling down the window and saying something, but all I could think of was: HAHAHAHAHAAA!!!

It's been 24 hours now, and I finally know what I should've said to the guy:

1. Sir, you're comb-over is not fooling anyone. I advise you to sell that car and invest in some hair transplant surgery, it will be worth it;
2. that girl is probably younger than your daughter, just because you are attracted to her, doesn't mean she's attracted to you;
3. If you want to keep the car and can't afford hair replacement surgery, why don't you just shave your head bald. White guys with a shaved head look 100x better than balding guys. Just make sure to be a little tanned so you don't look like a cancer patient...a old cancer patient with a nice car who likes creeping out young girls.
4. If you don't want surgery or shaving your head bald, try a hat! srslykthnxbye.
5. HAHAHAHAHAAHA!!!

Thoughts About Home Prices and Shark Attacks

Unless you run a drug smuggling ring, human trafficking operation, or some other criminal enterprise like a church, the purchase of your home will probably be the biggest financial decision you ever make in your life. That's why the news about the housing market is so depressing. It's like getting married in Vegas to a hot girl and then finding out that she used to be a man. Okay, maybe not exactly like that, but the sense of disappointment and dread are probably similar. Again, this is just an assumption since I've never been married to anyone, let alone to someone who used to have a penis.

But when I see house prices in DC (in my neighborhood, since I'm too lazy to look elsewhere) the prices don't seem to be coming down a whole lot. Well, it seems that the news was exaggerating how bad the housing market is. To make a boring story short:

1. the housing numbers that the news keeps quoting are coming from only 20 cities, some of which are doing much worse than the rest of the country;
2. the decline in REALLY EXPENSIVE houses is included in those numbers so it makes it look a lot worse than it is (like if you average your salary and Bill Gates' salary and then came up with a number).

So, in a way this is like the Shark Attack scares. A few weeks ago I saw on every news channel a story about a guy who was attacked and killed by a shark in South Africa. Now I try not to pay attention to these types of stories because

1. I don't live anywhere near the beach, so unless a shark is gonna come out of my toilet and try to bite my junk off, it doesn't really concern me;
2. if you're taking surfing vacations all over the world when I'm here working, then I don't have a lot of sympathy for you, even if you get eaten by a shark.

But the real reason I was thinking about this (besides procrastinating) is that shark attacks aren't very common. You're 10x more likely to die from a coconut falling on your head than you are to die from a shark attack. But people don't worry about dying from falling coconuts because the news only focusses on shark attacks, because, lets face it, sharks have huge teeth and are really scary; coconuts...not so much.

Same thing with the housing market. Some people overpaid for their houses in some parts of the country, but that doesn't mean that people everywhere are going to suddenly stop buying houses and living in their cars. It's not the end of the world.

If you want to worry about something, then stop thinking about sharks and housing prices and start worrying about the earth being destroyed by a black hole that could be created in a particle accelerator in Switzerland. Coincidentally, the Mayans had an advance system of math that calculated the movement of the planets until the year 2012. They stopped at 2012 because they believed that's when the world will be destroyed. Freakkkkkky.

Dog Update

Well, I didn't mention it before, but my foster dog got adopted. I miss the goofy mutt, but in a way it was good to have my life back. Plus, the guy who adopted him lives next to a dog park (which is great for the dog) and he's going out of town a few times this summer and asked if I could dog sit. Which is awesome for me. That's like breaking up with an ex and having her get married, then having the husband ask if you could sleep with his wife while he's out of town, then drop her off when your done. Well...it's not exactly like that, but it's still pretty freaking cool.

In the meantime, to get my dog fix, I have been taking care of a new dog for a few days while the real foster dog person lady is out of town.


"Hi, I'm Beatrice. I'm not as cool as Ninja's previous dog because I have short stubby legs and am afraid of everything. You'll know when I'm afraid of something like a loud noise, because I will cower in a corner and pee on your hardwood floors. Plus, I'm a little chunky so I'm hoping that Ninja will take me on his training regimen which involves running a half mile in the morning and bragging about it the rest of the day. He says he runs two miles on the treadmill at Gold's Gym, but if that were really true, than I wouldn't be the only chunky one in the house. Plus, he made me watch The Dog Whisperer with him and started telling me about how he's the pack leader. What-the-fcuk-ever!!!"

Yeah, so I think this dog was abused before because she's really jumpy and got terrified when I picked up the broom to start sweeping. So I stopped sweeping. It's not like a need an excuse to avoid working, so when a legitimate one comes up, why not take advantage of it?

Another weird thing about this dog is that it's a girl dog. I didn't think about this until yesterday, but all my dogs have been boy dogs. So when I gave her a belly rub yesterday, I noticed something was missing....the penis! I don't think there's a big difference between boy dogs and girl dogs (except for the whole penis thing), but one thing I noticed is that girl dogs pee funny. Boy dogs lift their legs like they're about to execute a roundhouse kick; girl dog's just sort of squat like they are about to jump through a hoop. Boy dogs also like to mark their territory...a lot. If I take a boy dog out for an hour long walk. He will be peeing on stuff for the full hour. And even if he runs out of pee (which almost never happens), he still lifts his leg and tries to mark his territory. It's like he's marking it with his chi. A girl dog only goes a couple of places and uses the peeing process to empty her bladder, not make some kind of statement about it's role in the heirarchy of dog society.

Anyway, that's all for now. Which would you prefer, a girl dog or boy dog?

Aside from That Mrs. Lincoln, How Was the Play?

I noticed quite a few police cars with sirens on my way home from work yesterday. I assumed it was because yesterday was Free Ice Cream Day at Ben and Jerry's, and they couldn't contain their joy. But no such luck. I was about two blocks from the Ninja Fortress and I asked someone who apparently saw what transpired.

Guy: There was a gunfight, right here. [points to where we're standing]

LadyBehindMe: Oh my G*d, I hope no one was hurt.

Ninja: Oh my G*d, I hope that doesn't hurt my property value
when it's time to sell.

[looks of disapproval from Guy and Lady Behind Me and other lady]

Ninja: and uhhh, I also hope that no one was hurt or something. Cuz,
yeah, I'm like a humanitarian...and stuff...

Since I can be honest on here, I will say that property values were the first thing on my mind. Say what you want about gentrification, but there are lot less of these incidents since they started building luxury condos in my neighborhood. There are also nicer places to shop, better restaurants, and bars that you can take a girl to without her thinking that you are about to sell her to human trafickers. The only "restaurant" that was around before gentrification was a chinese food place that required you to order from behind bullet proof glass (not making this up).

I moved in a couple of months after the first supermarket opened in this neighborhood. I don't know where poor people got there food from before I moved there, but it's not something I think about a lot because it makes my head hurt. Since I've been there (only 3 short years) they have opened up trendy restaurants, bars, and now a mega retail place with Target, Best Buy, Bed Bath & Beyond, Washington Sports Club, and Staples. This place is starting to look like Bethesda (and I mean that in the nicest possible way).

Since I like my neighborhood the way it is, if you're thinking of shooting someone in my neighborhood, why don't you go someplace else and do it. As you can see from this METRO Map, you can take the Green and Yellow Lines from my neighborhood to other neighborhoods where you can kill each other without affecting my investment. It would be really nice if you took the train to the last possible stop. The Green Line train can take you to Branch Avenue or Greenbelt and the Yellow Train can take you to Fort Totten or Huntington. Thanks for your cooperation.

DC Frustrations and the Jedi Mind Trick

I don't want to turn this into an anti-dc blog, but if you've read this blog for any length of time, you'll know that I have no love for the DC police department, whose mixture of incompetence and laziness is only rivalled by their stupidity.

This weekend I'll be helping a friend of mine move. Being from the midwest, he probably was underestimating how dangerous his neighborhood would be. But after his third mugging in a year, he's had enough of his neighborhood. The first two times he fought the muggers off*. But this time there were four of them and one of them had a gun.

He was sitting on his stoop drinking coffee and working on some papers when they approached and pulled a gun on him and demanded his money. He said he didn't have any money on him, which was true. All he had was coffee. And not even good coffee at that. Unsatisfied with the java, they ordered him to open up the door to his place. Two of his female roommates were asleep inside. He didn't know what would happen to his roommates if he let these guys inside, but you can bet it wasn't going to be good. He said he wouldn't do it. I'm sure if he had, the odds are good that it would've turned into rape/robbery or rape/murder/robbery. But being from the midwest he was willing to take a bullet to protect them. He said no again, and was able to bluff his away out of it. "There's 8 people in that house man, it's not worth it, just walk away." And surprisingly, they did.

Now, I've always been a fan of Star Wars and, as a kid, I wanted to be a Jedi. (shutup, you know you did too). The coolest thing about Jedis (aside from the light saber) was the jedi mind trick. I always thought that the Jedi Mind Trick was fake (like light sabers), but maybe Lucas was onto something. Imagine how much easier life would be if the Jedi Mind Trick was real.

Boss: Frankly, you hardly show up for work anymore and when you do, your work
sucks. we're not giving you a raise this year, ninja.

Ninja: Yes, you are.

Boss: Okay, we are.

Or in other contexts! For instance, my site is number on the interweb when you do a Google Search for Rachel McHottie. And it just so happens that Rachel McAdams is in DC RIGHT NOW filming a movie with the asshat who shall remain Russell Crowe. Imagine if I had the Jedi Mind Trick for this:

Rachel: Look, I don't know how you talked your way past all my security guards, but this is my movie trailer and I don't like coming in here and finding you going through my underwear drawers. So, take your flowers and 24 pack of condoms and get out, I'm not marrying you.

Ninja: Yes you are.

Rachel: Okay, maybe I am.

Back to the story. So he did what you're supposed to do when someone points a gun at you and tries to rob you: he called the cops. Now, I don't know if there was a sale down at the Dunkin' Doughnuts store, or if the whore house was giving a buy one get one free deal on deviant sex, but those cops took their time in coming (no pun intended). They got there 2 and half hours later.


I'm sure you're not surprised that they didn't find the guys. It doesn't take very long to flee a crime scene, but in 2 and half hours, you could pretty much crawl back to your hideout, stop for some pizza on the way, chat with some friends, smoke a cigarette and rob someone else and still have time to make it home before the cops get there. TWO AND A HALF HOURS!!!

Maybe those fat doughnut eating morons aren't as dumb as they look. If you knew that there was a guy running around with a gun, and you'd run into him if you got there quick enough, maybe you would take your own sweet time too. Or...if you're not going to do the job they are paying you to do, maybe you should quit and become a panhandler.

And Breaaaaathe!!!!

Soooo....what are you guys up to this weekend?

*His Jiu Jitsu is better than mine, and his Muay Thai standup skillz are pretty good too.

10 Things I Have Learned From Girls I Dated

1. The girl on Sex and The City with the horse face is Sarah Jessica Parker. (women like her because she has a horse face but wears nice clothes and dates lots of guys);
2. If a woman sees you holding a baby and not looking terrified, it's better than foreplay (the key is to wear your terror on the inside);
3. If you ask a girl what's wrong and she says "nothing", she is lying (that's why you should pretend not to notice);
4. Girls like watching you do guy stuff, like fixing things. (they like it almost as much as watching you hold a baby while not looking terrified);
5. Girls are better drivers than men (they can drive and have conversations with full eye-contact at the same time while killing a suprisingly low number of pedestrians);
6. Yes, girls do need that many shoes (supposedly);
7. If a really attractive girl walks into a bar wearing anything remotely sexy, then she is a bitch, and where does she get off walking around with those hooker shoes and last season's Dolce? (and no, I was not checking her out...really...I swear...what?);
8. For attractive girls, a cover charge is like a neutrino. It exists in theory, but no one has ever seen proof of one in person (same thing for speeding tickets);
9. If you do her a favor and wash some dishes or something and she says "does this look clean to you?" it's a rhetorical question; (and she's a b1tch);
10. Women who don't like dogs can't be trusted (they are those pygmies in africa who eat their babies and talk with that clicking sound).

Vision Quest Meets Rocky

Well, I continue to search for things that I suck at, but I am so awesome that it's difficult to find anything. Let's add submission grappling to the list. But first...some background.

I started learning karate when I was about 12. Only it wasn’t just karate. The school was taught by an old school karate master and an old school judo and jiu jitsu master who thought that by combining grappling with punching and kicking, it would make you a more effective fighter. Although this sounds obvious to anyone who watches Ultimate Fighting, in the 1980s it was really radical thinking. It was like saying that Cold War would end without a shot fired, or that women in p0rn would one day ditch their crotch afros and go completely bald. Crazy talk!

Eventually, I got a few months more Judo training from this guy. I stopped when I got a concussion. But even then I realized what a useful skill ground fighting was. If you could hurt someone that bad by accident, imagine what you could if you were doing it on purpose. If something existed at the time that had let you do more grappling, with less crazy throwing-people-on-their-heads moves, I probably would've done it. Not that I mind throwing people on their heads, but in class you usually take turns doing stuff, and the part where I land on my head kinda sucks. Nowadays, there are a lot of jiu jitsu schools where you learn of lot of groundwork and not a lot of throws, but they weren't around in the 80s.

My training in grappling isn’t extensive, but what little I know has come in surprisingly handy over the years. A big drunk a-hole doesn’t think anything of punching a little guy in the face if he’s had a few beers and his girlfriend is checking me out, but alcohol makes it surprisingly easy to knock him off balance and he usually don’t fight very well after he falls face first into a bar stool or the floor.

I started training in jiu jitsu again recently. I do okay against the people in my class (even though I’m usually the smallest guy there), but I wasn’t sure if it’s just because I was eventually figuring out their weaknesses, so I wanted to enter into a tournament to see how I do against strangers.
Now, I have competed in karate tournaments (punching and kicking) but never in a jiu jitsu tournament. Grappling against someone who knows what they are doing is much different than some random drunk or crackhead.

I like training jiu jitsu because it’s a really good workout. If I go to the gym, it’s hard to stay motivated because lifting weights is really repetitive and boring. But I have no motivation problem in jiu jitsu. It’s easy to stay focused and motivated when there is a fat guy with his knee on your chest trying to rip your arm out its socket or choke you unconscious.

So a couple of people in my class decide to go to a tournament "nearby". It turns out it was almost 3 hours away, which meant that I was going to have to wake up at 5am to get there. For some reason I thought the tournament was only a half an hour away. Geography is not my strong suit.

Me: Why are we meeting at 5:30 am?

Friend: We're taking D's truck to the event.

Me: Doesn't his truck have second gear?

Although it was kinda far, and although I didn't get down to the weight I wanted to, I decided to do it anyway. I ended up at the bottom of the 160-180 lb category, instead of the top of the 140-159 lb class. Which meant that a lot of those guys walk around at 200 lbs and they dropped weight to compete at 180 lbs. Not good for me, but whatever. I'll try anything once. I won't bore you with a play-by-play, but here's the pics that I have from the event. I competed in about 5 events. Some were with gi (uniform) and some were no-gi, they were in the novice division.




Here I am fighting for second place in the no-gi event. Sadly, I lost and got 3rd. This guy was a wrestler, and I hate fighting wrestlers.
I had a match right before this and I was dead tired. They only gave me 2 minutes to rest, then I was at it again. I had no gas left in my tank and this guy was good...and he fights dirty. He kept grinding his knuckles into my face and trachea when the ref couldn't see.


Here's the beginning of the fight.

I move so fast that existing technology can't capture my movements. They make photo equipment that can capture a bullet in midair, but nothing is fast enough to catch me.

Long story short, eventually he got me in a RNC, and I defended it. He was clamped around my jaw, not my neck and it was uncomfortable, but I could have easilly held on 'till the end of the match. The thing was, that he was way ahead on points and I was out of gas. So if I held on for another minute, he would still win, and if I broke free, I had nothing left in the gas tank so he would win. So I tapped. 3rd place for me! Anyway, I'm not making excuses, he beat me fair and square and even if I was rested, he was really good and would've probably won.

It's hard not to get nervous when your sitting around waiting for your turn. I tried to keep my self psyched up by listening to my iPod while practicing my drills during my downtime. If you ever need some god psyche yourself up music, I suggest some NWA or some of this.


In a way, the best fight I had (even though I lost in the first round) was the open division. The open division takes balls to enter because, like the old school ultimate fighting, it's open to all weight classes. So you have to have to be really dumb....errrr, I mean brave to enter because you could be fighting someone who's 150 lbs heavier than you.


Which happened to my friend Cody. D'oh!







Here I am in the open division. This guy looked like ex-military (there were a lot of people rockin' USMC tattoos at the tournament).

This was my last fight of the day. At this point I was thinking "another fight? can't we all just get along?"




If I remember correctly, he shot for a single leg takedown and I sprawled out of it.
Here I am starting apply my guillotine choke. I cranked this guys neck so hard that I thought I would rip his head clean off his body, but he was tough as nails. He wouldn't tap. Eventually, he got his neck free and got me in side control.

It went downhill from there. After several submission attempts and escapes, he tapped me out with about a minute left in the fight. He had me in an armbar, and although I started to stack him, I wasn't about to try to muscle out of it. I've got a mortgage to pay and getting my arm broken for a medal isn't worth it.



From left to right, here's Sajira with 3rd place in the women's open division, James the instructor, Cody with 2nd place in one of the Gi events, me with 3rd place in one of gi and one of the no-gi events.

I've been on ibuprofen for a couple of days now and both my elbows are hyper-extended, but I got a cool anecdote, some medals (and blog post) out of it.


Here I am with 3 medals. I don't count the third, because for that event (over 30 years old, novice, 160-180lbs, gi) I won because no one else was in that weight class. I wasn't even going to pick up the medal, but I did because I wanted my school to get credit for the win.

So that one I won for being the right weight. Of course, when I tell this story to my grand kids, it will be for killing a lion with my bare hands.

Coming soon...

I think it's been more than a couple of weeks since my last post, but I'm not dead (knock wood), just busy. I had hoped that this year would be the first year in a long time when I filed my taxes on time without asking for an extension...but apparently next year will have that honor.

Ironically, I have been trying to get my sh1t organized for some time, and at a party a couple of months ago I met a cute girl who is a professional organizer. I got her number but am so disorganized that I lost it and didn't find it until yesterday. So I called her and we have an appointment set up for a consultation at the fortress, then she's going to put her OCD issues to work on my life. Although she's a hottie, I'm only interested in her professionally. There's no shortage of vaginas in this town, but finding someone who will spend hours sorting through your closets and files so that you don't have to is pretty freaking awesome if you ask me. I hate dealing with own mess, so if you devote your life to fixing other people's messes, you are like those Catholic Nuns who work with lepers or blind kids, in my book.

Before anyone asks...yes, I did lose some weight for that tournament last week...but, no, it was not enough. I ended up near the bottom of the 160-180 lb weight class instead of the top of the 140-159 lb weight class. I'll post a few pics from the tournament next time and tell you how I did, but do it in a way that makes me sound like I'm trying not to brag...even though I am awesome.

There is a (bigger) national tournament next week near Richmond, but I don't think I'll go to that one. I'm not ready for it, quite frankly, and I don't see the point in driving four hours each way and paying a lot of money to have complete strangers kick my ass when I can have people I know do it here for free. Also, no offense to Richmond, but serioulsy...Richmond? on a saturday? I'm sure Richmond is a fine place to start a family or open a meth lab, but I'd much rather spend my weekends around here.

So how have you people been since I was away?