Pensive

Everytime another birthday rolls around, I get pensive. I was watching that new Scott Baio show on VH1 the other day. For those of you that don't know, Scott Baio had a "reality" show last season on Vh1 called "Scott Baio is 45 and still single". This season he is married and has a new show called "Scott Baio is 46 and still a douchebag". Actually, that's not the title, but it should be. Unlike most really rich guys, Scott is not some fat, bald investment banker working 80 hour weeks in order to get enough money to buy a trophy wife that doesn't have an eastern european accent. He made a lot of money off bad TV shows and is still young enough to enjoy it (not to mention that he has a full head of hair and lacks a spare tire around his midsection). On his way to being 46, he had sex a veritable who's who in hollywood hotties (Pam Anderson, Nicole Eggert, and numerous Playboy Playmates). Anyone who lived Scott Baio's life could be hit by a car and die a happy man, but all Scott does is complain and whine all day...you know what he does when he's not complaining? Neither do I, because he does it all the time. He's the Italian Woody Allen. Well, he whines like Woody Allen, only it's not funny when Scott does it, it's pathetic.

At any rate, one of the things I think about occasionally is settling down and getting married. Although I am the world's coolest uncle, I wonder what would happen if I don't settle down. In time, will I become an annoying whine-bag like Scott Baio, or this guy?

I think I'm in a better position (financially, emotionally and physically) than I was last year, but if you told me 10 years ago that I would be living in Washington, working for the government and spending my free time obsessing about countertops, I wouldn't have believed it. I have always been a libertarian, so if you told me 10 years ago (or yesterday) that I would be working for the government and enjoying it, that would be like telling a virgin in a convent that in a few years she will be working in a whorehouse and loving every minute of it.

For a second there I thought I was digressing, but digression implies that I even had a destination to begin with.

Anyway, I think (objectively) my life is okay right now. I have a house that is looking better, I have activities that I enjoy like meditation, salsa dancing, going to art museums and choking people. But I think I can do better. And as part of my introspection I have come up with interesting ideas about what direction my life will take in the next year.

I have a couple of nice trips planned and I've been getting calls from headhunters lately about job openings (some in DC, some in other cities), so I will be thinking long and hard (hehehehe "long and hard"!) about what to..."long and hard"...hahahha.

Where was I, oh yeah, Scott Baio is a douchebag.

Free Plug Fridays: Canine Edition

Even Hitler liked dogs...FACT!

So if you don't like dogs, then you are worse than Hitler...CONCLUSION!

Therefore, if you don't want to turn into some twisted hateful genocidal mutant with only one testicle, then you should consider owning a dog. Some of you might be wondering, what my point is. Or do I ever really have one?

I guess my point is that this Sunday, you can go to a dog adoption thing and get a dog, so that you don't end up like Hitler (married to a fat chick, living in a basement and waiting for the russians to close in on you).

Anyway, the adoption thing is in Arlington, VA from 12-2pm. It's at

PetMAC Arlington
822 N. Kenmore St.Arlington, VA 22201
(www.petmac.org)
703-908-PETS

Yes, I will be there because I have two testicles and I hate genocide. I am still undecided about what dog to get (if any). See you there! Or maybe I won't...you nazi!

Suck-i-tude

Okay, I suck at blogging lately. I know some of you are thinking "lately? when were you ever good at it? Or anything else for that matter?" And to that I say "Mom, I told you to stop reading my blog."

In between being busy at work, and with fun stuff, I also managed to get some stuff done at the house. So, although I'm not a new year's resolution kind of guy, I am a no-unfinished business kind of guy. So over the next few posts I am going to clean up some loose ends around here.

1. I'll finish up the Adventures in Law episodes where I talk about legal jobs that I've had. We have one more episode with Carl/Chris and the girls who crush on him, then we'll get to some really weird (but really true) stories of life at an actual law firm with psychotic bosses, incompetent support staff and one really handsome new associate who would eventually become a blogger that everyone knows and loves. And no, this story has nothing to do with Pink is the New Blog;
2. I'll throw in a couple of holiday stories with my wacky family (hey, you people are cheaper than a therapist);
3. I'll tell you about a good deed that I did which almost got me mauled by a rottweiler (I am really starting to hate my neighborhood);
4. and...I'll post some pics of my new kitchen countertops.

I tend to think of my house as some kind of metaphor for my life (in the Japanese "Kaizen" sense of continual improvement), but when I saw the countertop installed and I realized that the sink and dishwasher were in place, but weren't hooked up, that it really was a metaphor. It looks right, but it's not working. Just for show. It looks good from the outside, but upon closer inspection is completely dysfunctional (for now). Wow.

Also, we have an important dog-related announcement to make...with pics. Stay tuned.

Free Plug Fridays: Art Edition

Once again I will save you the trouble of thinking for yourself and give you a few Ninja-Approved Activities to pass the time. Because I'm all classy and shit, this week we will reviewing some artistic activities.

I. ART SHOW

One of my artist friends is having a big solo show in Alexandria, VA next Friday (January 18th) at the ArtWhino Gallery. You can see a poster for it below.

ArtWhino is a great new gallery that specializes in emerging artists. Unlike most of the other galleries in DC, they don't suck. They give talented newer artists a chance to display their work and get noticed. Sort of like Warehouse Gallery did in DC (before they got crushed by the twin headed monster of property taxes and gentrification).

As you can see from the flyer, it's got art, live music, booze, and cool people, so there's so much going for it that you should definitely go. It's more fun than watching midget wrestling, which is probably what you'd be doing that weekend if you didn't come.

If you are a guy, bring your girlfriend. If she's busy, then bring someone else's girlfriend. If you are a girl...wellllll, hellllloooo there :)

See you there. Email me if you have any questions.




II. Japanese Art Exhibit

Also in our free art stuff section. There is a great exhibit going on at the Sackler Gallery. It's a showing of Edo Period Japanese art. You can't get more ninja than that. The good thing is that the exhibit is so large that they are rotating the exhibits every couple of weeks, so you can go again and each time the place will be different. Like one of those choose-your-own-ending books, except that it's with pictures instead of words, and everyone is japanese. But you get the point, right?

III. Ninja Approved Artists

Because good things come in threes, and I can't think of something else to write about, I'll endorse a few artists now.

Joroko: very edgy anti-establishment artist. I have a couple of his pieces. One of them got me laid by a funky art girl with tattoos.

Davo: A cool cat that I met in Maui. I'm not a fan of Peter Max, but when you see Davo's work, you will see what pop art should look like. The painting I got from him is one of my favorite two paintings in the ninja collection.

J.Coleman: He's got the show at ArtWhino. You can see more of his work on his website.

Matt Sesow: Edgy DC artist. I'm going to his next open studio. I've been thinking about buying one of his pieces for a while and I saw a few new ones on his site that I liked.

Actual Home Improvement Stuff

One of the many things I am reluctant to do without guilt (because I'm catholic and feel guilt about everything) is to let other people work on the ninja fortress. It's partly because the first contractor I hired screwed up a lot of things and I ended up having to re-do them; which meant that I had to do it myself, and pay for someone else to do it which gave me the worst of both worlds. But it's also because on some level it feels like accepting failure; like admitting there is something in the world which I am not good at. I don't like to admit that. I'm a talented lawyer*, an exceptional salsa dancer, a skilled martial artist, a good writer, and I'm even reasonably good at pleasuring a woman.** How can I admit that there is something I can't fix with my powerful arms and manly home improvement tools? It's like admitting that you were born without testicles (which is okay if you're a girl, but not so okay if you are a man). Still, there is so much that needs to be done that not hiring people for some of it would be crazy and would make the renovations drag on forever. As it is, it already feels like forever. Renovating my fortress is starting to feel like watching The English Patient on endless loop for a week or making love with Rosie O'Donnell for an hour. Will it never end?

Anyways...I said I would post some home improvement stuff again, so I will. I got a couple of quotes for installing the kitchen countertop and I decided to go with someone that was recommended by a friend of a friend. After getting different samples and a couple of bids from different people, weighing the options, considering all the pros and cons, and looking at my astrology chart, I decided to go with the cheapest option and will cover my new cabinets in plywood...ok, I'm kidding about that. I decided to go with this Zodiac stuff, which looks just like granite, except that it doesn't have to be re-sealed every year and, unlike Mitt Romney's magic underwear, it doesn't stain. It's the same price as granite and it looks nice I think. Since I have black appliances, hardwood floors and darkish cabinets, a friend suggested Toasted Almond, which looks great, but with the size of my kitchen would be expensive. It turns out that the manufactured stone is sold by the slab so if you need just a leeeeeetle more than one slab, they have to charge you for two, which raises the price an extra $900. It seemed kinda silly to pay more for artificial stone than the real thing since buyers always think the stuff created in a lab isn't as good as the stuff created by nature (no one pays extra for a cubic zirconium ring). But in talking with the guy, he said he had a piece left over from a prior job and if I went with that color, he would only have to order one slab, so I can get it for the same price as the granite. Score! FYI, it's Minera Pearl, which looks the same, except with more black flecks in it, which actually makes it match better I think. I don't have ovaries so I'm not good at matching, but that's my opinion, for what it's worth. Anyway, I'll fax back the estimate today and I'll be sure to take some before/after pics of the cabinets (and my bank statement) so that you imaginary people can feel like you were watching the whole thing as it happened...like some kind of creepy celebrity obsessed stalker. Wish me luck.



*At least four of my clients from my law firm days are in federal prison now, but that is mostly due to their bad character, not my lawyering...well, that's my story and I'm sticking with it.
**I don't mean any particular woman, just women in general.

SUV Attacks on Homes Resume.

It's been a while since I mentioned SUV attacks against homes. I previously discussed the topic HERE, HERE, and HERE. Because it's been months since I mention it, you might think that a Kamikaze attack on someone's home was a fad like Disco or the internet, but sadly the lack of recent attacks was just an attempt to lull people into complacency in order to launch further surprise attacks. See the latest article HERE again.

As many of you know, I've been debating whether or not to adopt a dog recently. Although some people (incorrectly) assume small dogs are gay, I am still committed to adopting some kind of small (but still hetero) dog like a combat Beagle, or possibly an attack Dachshund. These kamikaze attacks give me pause, however. I am sure that with the proper training in Northern Eagle Claw Kung Fu, (which I studied for almost an entire year when I was 15 years old) a dog of any size could repell any unarmed invader, and most armed invaders. I could leave for work everyday and the Fortress would be in safe hands...errr, paws. Still, I worry about whether a small unarmed dog, with no opposable thumbs will be able to resist an attack by armoured assault vehicles.

My neighbor drinks quite a bit and he's got a pretty big truck. It's not outfitted with .50 caliber machine guns, like my Ninja Lite-Armoured Assault Vehicle (NLAAV), but it could probably kill an unarmed Combat Beagle if it caught the mutt by surprise (like when the dog is raiding my fridge or licking himself).

Maybe I can teach the dog to drive and he can go all Mad Max on the neighborhood?

Ketchup post

Well, spending Christmas with the New York relatives isn't nearly as traumatic as spending Christmas with the Florida relatives, but I guess it all depends on how you look at it. You could just as easily say that Dante's third circle of hell isn't as traumatic as the 8th circle of hell. But still, if you had a choice between Christmas with my family and doing something more enjoyable (like laundry, or being date raped at a fraternity party) you would probably never get to hang out with my family and get some insight on how I learned to laugh at everything (while crying on the inside of course).

Spending time around my nieces and nephews is always an interesting experience. If you asked me before Christmas if I ever wanted kids, I would've said "yes...someday." But after a few days with the feral children, if you ask me the same question, my reply would probably be "no...I want a vasectomy...right now."

I'm back in DC now. New Year's Eve was enjoyable. I spent it in a hipster neighborhood in DC doing some of my favorite things : hanging out with friends, listening to live music, and salsa dancing. I later found out that I was a few doors down from another blogger, but I had no idea that she was nearby. She is an excellent stalker, it turns out.

I have read your comments on the previous posts, and instead of ignoring them, I will take them to heart and endeavor to try to bring more actual home improvement type posts in the near year.

This Blog Writes Itself

I won't apologize for the long absence because I'm not paid to blog, and the internet is not my girlfriend (despite the amount of p0rn on there). I have been busy, but I should have more time to waste...errr, I mean to "be creative" on the internet in '08. Either that or I will finally kill this blog (which, like a drug resistant staph infection, or Jason from Friday the 13th, proves remarkably resilient).

In the meantime, since I don't feel like thinking of ways to entertain you, why don't you go fu...errr I mean, entertain yourself. Or better yet, in an homage to a dearly departed blogger, I'll take suggestions from the peanut gallery. You can ask me a question (like "how old is your dog") or you can make a suggestion (like "tell us about the first time you had a concussion"). By the way, when I say "make a suggestion" that doesn't mean you should suggest things like "why don't you go fcuk yourself"....errr, I mean "entertain yourself". I meant make a suggestion about what to write on this blog (like "do a post on bacon" or "tell us about [something] interesting]"). If you know me in real life you can make a non-blog suggestion (like "get rid of that euro sweater" or "take skydiving class" or "go entertain yourself".). But if not, then keep it to blog content.

I will be spending a few days in NYC with my wacky family (which is slightly different from the wacky family I usually spend time in florida with) so I should be back to blogging with newer and more traumatic family stories for the new year. Merry Christmas Everyone!

The Salvador Dali Commute

I think sometimes life becomes surreal when it's most banal. I was walking my usual commute yesterday and nothing out of the ordinary happened, just like every day for the past five years, when I heard a crashing sound and I saw a guy on a bicycle flip head over feet when he collided with a Miata. I took off my headphones and walked accross the street (for entertainment, not because I cared if anyone was injured), and I assessed the situation.


The guy on the bike wasn't wearing a helmet, but he looked unharmed (not so for his bike). He was a tall, bald black gay man. (by the way, only black folks should shave their heads bald, when white people do it, it looks gay). Now, normally I would agree with those people who say that you can't tell if someone is gay by looking at him, but this guy was an exception. You can usually tell when someone is gay if they are flaming, and this guy wasn't just flaming....he was on fire. When he was yelling at the guy in the Miata (yes, a guy was driving the Miata, don't get me started), he sounded like Wesley Snipes in that To Wong Fu movie.



"You almost KILLED me...you crazy old man, with your little midlife crisis car, why don't you look where you're going!"







The driver, a short, old, white guy in mid 50s with a piece of toilet paper stuck to his face (not making any of this up) to cover a shaving accident got out and instead of looking at the biker, was obsessing about his passenger side mirror. Two accidents in one day, chief...maybe you should call it a day. Normally I would tell someone if they had toilet paper on their face, but I didn't like this guy very much.

Old old lady with blue hair stopped and asked the bicyclist if he was okay and wanted to call an ambulance.

"No, I'm okay, but thank you for asking...unlike SOME people...yes, I'm okay sir, really I am, no need for you to get off your black berry phone or anything to see if I broke anything. I' m sorry if I inconvenienced you when you ran me over...did you spill your latte?"

Then the old lady started berating the old guy to get off his phone and told him what a jerk he was.

"Well, look at my car, there's glass everywhere!"

They stood there for a few seconds, the bald black man fixing his bike wheel, the short white man with toilet paper on his face fumbling with his blackberry, and the blue haired lady lecturing on rudeness...it looked like David Lynch movie. The only thing missing was a midget and an old lady carrying a log.

Then the flaming bald guy got on his bike and left, and the old guy with toilet paper on his face got back in his car and drove away. The lady with the blue hair turned into a midget and ate a lion with her....okay, that last part didn't happen, she just walked away too. Just another banal commute...

Not So Black Friday and A Modest Proposal

I don't really like people. Well, I like them individually, or in small groups, but in a crowd I can't stand them. The lack of crowds is probably the biggest selling point for being a good Catholic. Since 99.9% of the population is going to hell (yes, this includes you polytheistic animists, buddhists, and protestants), the lines for the bathroom there must be outrageous. I'd much rather go to the nice place (although the people there are probably the condensending religious nuts that I can't stand, so I'll probably have to spend most of my time on the Holy Xbox 360).

Anyway, when I was younger* I used to work in retail selling electronics, and Black Friday was the worst day of the year. It wasn't then that I started hating crowds (I've always hated them) but it definitely took a pre-existing condition and made it worse. Like when someone is afraid of heights, and you take them to a high place and throw live snakes at them, so that they are now afraid of heights and snakes...and you. The rude people, the jostling, the people grabbing you ("I WAS HERE FIRST"), the screaming kids, the screaming parents, the screaming salespeople. Ugh!.

Part of the reason that I'm grateful that most of my family is in Florida (and the rest are in NYC) is that I can do most of my Christmas shopping online. That's right, people, those computer things you are staring at are used for things other than reading my blog and looking at p0rn. I probably miss out on a lot of those doorbuster sales where they sell you a 52" flat screen TV for $99 if you are one of the first 10 people to show up at 4am and are willing to kneecap an old lady in front of you to get it, but then again I don't have to deal with people.

If you are a person, don't take that personally. As I've said, if you're reading this and I met you individually, I would probably like you. But if were in a crowd (especially one with torches and pitchforks chanting "kill Home Improvement Ninja") then I would probably think you sucked. No offense.

Which brings me to my point. (yes, I have a point...sometimes). If I was in charge of the world, I would fix the holidays. I would fix everything in fact. I could solve the crime problem because I can take one look at someone and tell if they are a criminal (I grew up in NYC, so it's not that difficult since most people in NYC are crooks) and just order them executed.

But back to the holidays. Holidays suck because of the crowds. And the crowds are there because everyone celebrates Christmas on the same day. Well, I have a solution. If I was in charge, I would justgive everyone a different day for Christmas. That way, the crowds would be spread out over 365 days a year. In case you're wondering when Christmas would be for you (because it's always about YOU isn't it?), well your day to GIVE gifts would be on your birthday.

Besides the crowds, doing it my way would also make people remember your birthday, because if they didn't come over and give you a birthday gift, then they wouldn't get a Christmas gift in return. It's genius in it's simplicity. Now all I need is to be appointed dictator (hahaha Dick- Tater) and I will fix all your problems.


*wow, that makes me sound old. Lemme tell you about when I was a kid before we had computers and the internets. We walked to school (5 miles each way) and looked things up in these heavy things called books, that had sharp things called pages that would cut your fingers. Ronald Reagan was president back then...

Random Stuff

Well, the week hasn't been going as well as planned. My "friend with benefits" (the tattoo and piercings girl from the art show) hasn't come down to "hook a brother up" in almost 2 weeks. I even offered to come up to Baltimore* to deliver the goods. But she was flying out of town for Thanksgiving.

Girl: I'll be back Friday...I bring you back some turkey.
HIN: Is that slang for for vagina?
Girl: Hahaha...you're such a kidder.
HIN: Uhhh, yeah...I was kidding...I'd much rather have turkey than vagina.
Girl: Hahaha...okay, I'll bring you back some of both.
HIN: Sweeeeet!

As I was talking, I got a call from one of my oldest friends in NYC, The Benonshurt Kid. I decided to switch over because the way things have been going lately I was worried it might be bad news.

TBK: Guess what? My wife is pregnant again!
HIN: That's awesome...are you the father this time?
TBK: Asshole!

I can kid around with him like that because we've been friends for such a long time...well that and because no one has invented a device to let you punch someone in the face over the phone yet. Anyway, TBK's previous wife (who was pregnant) died on 9/11 , so I'm glad that he's got something to look forward to this holiday season.

Moving on...

I decided against driving up to NYC for Thanksgiving, since I'm feeling lazy and unmotivated. Plus there's some family drama that I don't feel like being a part of. It's not a major holiday amongst my peoples (like Christmas, Easter or Shuriken Day) so its no biggie.

Moving on again...

I found out that some members of the ninja clan will be coming up for Christmas. Although this saves me from having to fly down to Florida, the last time they were here, the feral children almost got me banned from one of the few restaurants in my neighborhood that doesn't serve you food from behind bulletproof glass. So this time we'll be dining in Arlington. Feel my wrath, yuppies!!!

Anyway, maybe the need to avoid my family quietly judging me will motivate to finish up some lingering projects at the fortress....or maybe not.



*normally I'd rather get kicked in the nuts than go to Baltimore, but TWO WEEKS people!!!

Gentrification and Booze

Well gentrification has its upsides, no matter what they say. I was on a part of Georgia Avenue today which isn't exactly an area where the yuppies go for their fair trade organic soy chai decaf lattes at Starbucks.

I was there to attend a brainwashing, errr, I mean "orientation" for people who want to be foster owners for dogs until they are adopted. I have been thinking of getting a dog, and I figured this would be a good way to see if I am ready for that kind of commitment. Plus, having a dog for a few weeks, then getting a different dog, then another one, without having to commit to one is great in principle. It's like being single, young, rich, and having lots of money. New bitches every week and no commitment!

On the way back I needed to get a present for a birthday partay that I was going to. A friend suggested beaujolais nouveau, which is a special holiday wine that they make, that you should drink before the end of the year, because within 6 months it tastes like a mixture of balsamic vinegar, dirt and that stuff between your toes when you jog.

After the brainwashing, I went to visit the shelter dogs, one of whom's life I might spare in the near future, and then went to the liqour store. Luckily, I was on one of the parts of Georgia Avenue that have 3 liqour stores on every block (okay, one was a homeless guy offering to sell me a drink from his 40 ounce bottle of malt liqour, but you get the point). There were 2 liquors across the street from each other...seriously. Are people really thirsty on Georgia Avenue?

At the first place I went, the guy behind the counter told me that he wasn't sure if they had "Booo-jo-lay" but he said to check in the room in the back with the sign that said "wine library" (I wish I was making this up but I'm not). I saw a guy who looked like an extra on the Sopranos, who I assumed was the Wine Librarian (is that the proper term?). He mispronounced "beaujolais" and then told me that he ordered it, but it wasn't in yet. Then he offered to kill Don Corleone and end the feud between the five families of the Cosa Nostra if I would agree to back his bid to be Capo di Tutti Capi--the boss of all bosses (sort of like the Pope of the Mafia). Okay, that didn't really happen, but with his accent, it very well could have.

At the second place, they tried to sell me some of LAST year's beaujolais. Since the stuff goes bad after a few months, that's not a good idea. The price was cheap, but after a year it probably tastes worse than battery acid or cajun cooking so I said no thanks. He suggested some champagne, which sounded like a good idea.

HIN: I want one that will fool them into thinking I have class

Guy: How about some Cristal?

HIN: No, I'm not trying to convince them I'm a rapper.

Guy: This Dom Perignon is $200, it very classy!

HIN: No ones gonna believe I'm that classy.

Guy: How classy do you want to be?

HIN: I'd like a hundred bucks worth of class...plus tax. It's a special occasion.

I realized I probably shouldn't be getting advice on class from a guy with gang tattoos on his neck, so I called a friend (with class) and mispronounced the names of the champagnes they had until she said "yes, that's a good one." Then I was off to a birthday partay at the Decatur House. It was black tie, and I had my own Tuxedo, because I'm all classy and shit.

The Decatur House is one of the oldest houses in DC and it's historically preserved. I had no idea that in colonial times they had things like urinals and fluorescent lighting, but I'm not a history buff.

Why Men Love Bitches

Someone wrote a whole book on the topic of "Why Men Love Bitches". First of all, it's a stupid title because it begs the question of "Do men love bitches?" It assumes the answer is yes, and the author presumes to tell people why that's so. And since women are SOoooo good at figuring out what we men think, this author, for fifteen dollars, will tell women why it's not their fault that they are miserable and single.

When I imagine what it would be like to be married to a bitch, I find it hard to imagine because when I see my imaginary wife "Karen" being a bitch, it's hard to imagine why I would ever fall in love and want to marry someone like that. By the way, in my imaginary marriages, all my wives look different, but the bitches are all named Karen. I think they are named Karen because Karen is a bitch's name, or maybe they are named Karen because I dated a bitch named Karen who killed my cat when we broke up. Before I get sued, let me rephrase that and say that my cat died in mysterious circumstances while in her care. Karen never liked the cat because it was a stray that my ex had rescued and given to me because she wasn't allowed to have cats in her apt. I guess she disliked it because it reminded her of my ex...and because she was a bitch. Nonetheless, we broke up and 48 hours later my cat was dead. You do the math.

Anyway, I didn't think that I was one of those men who love bitches, but I slept with a bitch last night and I fell in love with her. Here is a picture of her:


Your name isn't Karen, is it?


Anyway, she was part of Velvet's dog rescue and I got to baby sit the night before. I was tricked into it, but whatever.

Velvet: Are you home yet?

HIN: No...I should be back around 2 am, what's up.

Velvet: I'm coming buy with one of my bitches and I want to know if she can stay with you for the night?

HIN: Is she cute?

Velvet: She's gorgeous!!!

Anyway, that's how I got tricked into letting the bitch come over...with her puppy. Like all bitches, Karen was needy and wanted to cuddle and be reassured that I loved her unconditionally.


And like all bitches, she likes to hurt the ones she loves.

OUCH! Finish teething already, you bitch!






It was difficult letting her go, but I think she'll be happy with the two lesbians who took her home the following day. Who wouldn't be happy if two lesbians wanted to take them home?

Free Plug Fridays

Although I don't mind whoring stuff for money, no one is paying me for the following free plugs. And you're probably not a whore if you give it away for free, right?

1. Canine Karma
Only as asshole wouldn't like to own a dog. FACT! So, unless you're an asshole (or allergic, or live in a place where the lease doesn't allow it), you should consider adopting a dog. My friend has a friend (yes, I have friends who are normal enough to have other friends...get over it) who has a rescue organization down in Georgia where they take animals from "high kill" shelters and bring them up north to get adopted by people who don't believe in killing dogs (except for cases of self-defense, rape or incest, of course). They are having doggie adoption thingy in Potomac Yard this Sunday. Read about it HERE.

2. More Karma
The FCBA Foundation is having their annual charity auction this coming Thursday at the Marriott at Metro Center. I know you are wondering what the FCBA is. The answer is that it doesn't matter. It's for a good cause, and they usually auction off great stuff there (dinners at nice restaurants, sports tickets, fine art, wine, stays at nice hotels) and the proceeds go to charity. So you can get some cool stuff and write it off on your taxes. So, just like in the Special Olympics, everybody wins!

3. Authors that don't suck
A. Jeremy Blachman. I'm in the middle of reading Anonymous Lawyer, by the guy who writes the website Anonymous Lawyer. I'll do a full review later, but so far it's really funny. I'm giving him an advanced plug now because I'm assuming that he didn't write a book that was funny in the first half and sucky in the later portions (like the Star Wars saga or the Rocky movies).

B. Karen Siplin. I don't normally (actually, ever) read chick lit, but it just so happens that someone I know writes it...and writes it well. Her two previous books "His Insignificant Other" and "Such a Girl" were both well received by critics and you can pre-order her newest book "Whiskey Road"from Amazon now. Karen sat next to me in junior high and is largely responsible for the bad grade I got in 7th grade science because she was one of my first crushes. She would come in with Pop Tarts and offer me some every class. I pretended I liked them so that we would have something in common.

4. Get Back in Shape
A friend of mine teaches a Jiu Jitsu class in DC on Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays. It's on the 2nd floor of Third Power Fitness Gym in Adams Morgan. You can find the website for the class HERE. He wants to get a few more students so that he can expand the class to four or five nights a week. If anyone is interested in learning how to master this ancient samurai art (and you don't have a time machine or prior commitments on those days of the week), then you should check it out. (And, no, that's not where I train, so if you want to go there so that you can see me in class and try to choke me, it won't work...if you really want to kick my ass, my name is Randy Couture, and I'll be teaching a seminar in Las Vegas on January 18-20th, 2008. See you there!!!)

The World's Worst Mugger

Okay, here is the mugger story that you asked for in the comments.

I think I met up with the World's Worst Mugger a few nights ago. I don't know where muggers go to learn their profession, but this guy must've cut class at mugger school the day they taught how to pick your targets wisely. I hesitate to bring this up, because I'm not one of those people who brag about being a badass (I am way more lover than fighter). But I'm posting it because:

1. Some blogger wrote something idiotic about muggings recently that pissed me off. It basicly said "I live in the suburbs and I've never been mugged before, and if you have you were probably not paying attention that's why it happened to you". I won't link to it because I don't want to give her site hits;



2. The people I've told this story to think it's funny; and



3. it happened in my driveway, and involved a crackhead.
   
   

Disclaimer:

1. If you ask me what the right thing to do when confronted with a mugger, I would tell you 99 out of 100 times that you should just give them your money because no amount of money is worth risking your life for (especially what little cash you're likely to be carrying around in your wallet.
2. Despite what I'm about to say in this story, I don't want people thinking I live in a bad neighborhood (especially when I try to sell my house for WAY more than I bought it).
   
3. I'm not the type of person who gets into street fights (anymore). Aside from the junkie I kicked in Amsterdam in 2002 (which doesn't count) I haven't been in a street fight since the infamous Jack in the Box drive-through"incident" in 2000 and I don't plan on being in any if it's avoidable. I already have two facial scars and I'm not looking to add any new ones. I'm sure that some chicks did guys with facial scars, but most probably don't so:
   

I'd rather look like this guy














Than this guy
















At any rate, I hesitate to tell this story because the last thing I want is to be in a bar and have someone who read this post think "he doesn't look that tough" and try to punch me in the face. Because then I'll end up with a black eye or someone will end up with my beer bottle smashed across their face (yeah I fight dirty, get over it).

Backstory:

The other day I was helping a friend look at some condos that were in the vicinity of the Ninja Fortress. My friend said "I don't know about this area. A friend of mine was mugged, like, six times in a year here". Because I am an idiot, I mentioned that I'd never run into trouble in that area (knock wood)--the worst thing you could do is tempt the fates. As if by clockwork, a few days laterI ran into either the worst mugger, or most agressive panhandler in the history of the universe.

A DC blogger posted recently about the different kinds of homeless people in DC. Well, I ran into this guy from that website:

The Scary Swindler
Location: Sketchy parts of the city E.G. Questionable sections of U Street at 2am in the morning. [ed. note, the Fortess is near U Street]
This category typically consists of petty thieves and muggers (sometimes high).
When he asks for money you automatically know that means hand over your wallet.
If you aren’t certain whether or not handing over your wallet is a suggestion or a command, his crazy eyes and the broken liquor bottle he is waving at you should make it clear.

Having grown up in NYC, I am familiar with this guy. Apparently some genius somewhere told them that if you say "give me $10" instead of "give me your wallet" that they can claim they are panhandling if the police happen to stumble upon the mugging while they are on their way to the Dunkin Doughnuts. Of course, if you give them $10, they will take your wallet too. It's just a test to see how you will react. Will you run? Yell for help? Fight? or give up your wallet? Or maybe you should just hide somewhere?

Back to the story: I had just come back from a no-gi grappling class. In case you're wondering what that is, it's jiu jitsu that you do without a uniform, in order to simulate what would happen in the real world (like fighting while leaving a bar, or in the parking lot of a Jack in the Box).

I didn't bother to bring a change of clothes, so I was still wearing my rashguard and fight shorts, which have a pocket in the front to keep your mouthpiece in. I even had my cup on. (this is relevant to the story)

Now, if you read my blog you probably figured out that, mentally, I'm not all there. But even if you're a crackhead with no laptop, you can probably figure that out when it's cold outside and I'm walking around in flip-flops and shorts in an alley at 11 pm. So I parked my car behind the fortress and made my through the shared alleyway that leads to the street. (at the end of the alley, a few doors down from the fortress is a boarded up building...and, no, I don't live in the ghetto).

I spotted a tall skinny guy at the front of my alley way. He wasn't walking by, he was just standing there.

Give me ten dollars!

I looked him up and down. He was about 6'2" tall and skinny. He was wearing a denim jacket and was now IN the alleyway, not just in front of it. He was doing some weird shaky thing, which made me positive that he was on something. I didn't think he was armed because I figured if he had something on him, he would have taken it out and threatened me with it by now (I don't know why I thought that but I did).

Now, I don't know if it's because I'm very territorial when it comes to my driveway, or maybe it's because I don't like it when people who are taller than me* try to physically intimidate me...or maybe it was because I was wearing a cup and just spent two hours practicing how to choke people. But for some reason, I wasn't having it. Any of it.

Now because he's a crackhead, he was kinda skinny, so even though he was taller he was probably only 40 lbs heavier than me. And since he was skinny, he had a long neck, and one of my best grappling techniques is choking...you do the math.

I'm not saying that because I'm bragging. If I was bragging on my blog to impress chicks, I would make up lies about how rich I am or how long my dong is, but unless there are women who have a Hannibal Lecter fetish, I don't think anyone is impressed by you telling them how good you are at choking people.

Maybe we can go out to a movie sometime...and dinner. PFtthfhhffhththhthththththththt.








But I AM good at choking people. Once upon a time I studied Judo from this guy and although I'm out of practice, I know about twenty different ways to choke someone. *** And this guy has a long neck so that's almost an engraved invitation. Jus' sayin'

Although I'm not short, tall people bug me. I don't lose my temper easily, but one of the things that makes me lose my temper (besides people who kick puppies and eat babies) is when someone taller than me tries to physically intimidate me.

Yeah, you, motherfcuker! I'm talking to you, I said give me ten dollars!

For some reason, if I had to describe my emotions right then, it wasn't fear, but rage. If we were boxing for the welterweight championship title, I would be in trouble because he's probably got a 12" reach advantage when it comes to punching, (and also because I'm a sh1tty boxer), but we're not in a boxing ring. We're in an 8' wide alley, I'm wearing a cup, and I can tell from the way he's standing that he doesn't know how to grapple.**

I said matter of factly "It's in my wallet...why don't you try and take it?"

Then I reached into the front pocket, took out my mouthpiece and put it in my mouth. (Going to the orthodontist once is bad enough, so if I had a mouthguard on me, I was going to avoid a repeat visit if possible).

When I took out the mouthguard, the look on his face changed instantly. It was as if I had pulled out a knife instead of vulcanized rubber safety equipement. He had that "oh sh1t!" look. As I took a couple of steps towards him and raised my fists, he put his arms up with his palms facing outward walked backward and said

Crackhead: "hey, hey, it's not like that...I was just tryin' to get somethin' to eat.

HIN: Oh really??? Well why didn't you say so?...Get the fcuk outta my driveway!!!

As he walked away I wondered if he would call it quits for the night or take his chances mugging someone else. After the Catholic guilt started kicking in, I reached into my pocket, ran up to him and gave him some money.

HA! Psyche!

If you believed that last sentence, then you must have me confused with some other blogger. There's no way I would lend a crackhead $10. If he's had to resort to mugging to make ends meet, then the odds of him being able to pay me back aren't good. Besides, I'd rather spend it on beer for me, than have him spend it on crack. It's the principle of the thing.

What actually happened is that when he turned to walk away I thought about grabbing him from behind and choking him out with a rear-naked choke, then leaving him there. I wish I could say that what kept me from doing it was that I'm a nice person, but actually, it was that i was 20 feet from the ninja fortress and i figured that if I did it, they would probably find me. Although I don't live next to a Dunkin' Doughnuts, I don't think the cops would have trouble solving the crime.

Now, looking back at what happened, it was a dumb thing to do.

In case you hadn't noticed, I'm kind of a wiseass, and you can't grow up in Brooklyn being a wiseass without having had a few street fights. But I really hate to fight. To me, fighting is like taking home an ugly chick from a bar at closing and making sexy time. It seems like a good idea at the time, but it's something you will regret later. And in the end, fighting is always brutal and terrifying, even if you win--like playing strip poker with Rosie O'Donnell. *shudder*

At the time I wasn't thinking about him having a knife or a gun. (which is stupid on my part) At the time, I was so pissed off that all I could think was "Crackhead, I'm gonna fcuk your sh1t up!"
I guess in the end it was okay. Nobody go hurt, nobody got robbed, and I did refrain from doing something really stupid (even if it wasn't for the right reasons). Plus...I got a blog story out of it. Anybody else have a funny fight story?

*Now, I'm 5.8" tall and according to some (probably inacurate) statistics I am slightly below average height, which is 5'9", if we are to believe the government. The same government who said that Iraq had WMDs and that Hillary Clinton doesn't have a penis. So, pitting my credibility against the government, we'll just say that this is my blog and I'm not short, and that's that.

**if he knew what he was doing, he would stand with one leg forward. Standing with your feet shoulder-width apart (in an alley) makes it really easy for me to shoot for a double-leg takedown, and there's no room to sprawl in an alley to avoid it, so he was going down. Plus he was wearing a jacket, which gives me an advantage (it's easier to control someone by grabbing their sleeves and lapels than it is if they are in a t-shirt).

***if you don't believe me, here they are :1. one handed choke, 2. two handed choke, 3. head and arm choke, 4. guillotine choke, 5. anaconda choke, 6. rear naked choke (RNC) with figure four grip, 7. RNC with cable grip, 8. RNC with half nelson grip, 9.crucifix choke, 10. triangle choke, 11. viking choke, 12. cross choke, 13. reverse cross choke, 14. gogo plata, 15. north-south choke, 16.-20 are "gi chokes" that I don't know the names for.

Odds and Ends:

1. House Stuff:
My trashcan wasn't stolen by a crackhead. It was taken mistakenly by a neighbor who, like me, was too lazy to write their house number on it. I spotted my old trashcan (the one where the rat, errr, raccoon that was hungry had chewed a hole in it). I could've let my neighbor keep my old trashcan (he took it so he must like it better, right?), but I switched them back. I like the new traschcan better but Catholic guilt, like herpes, is something that you can never really be completely cured from.

And speaking of Catholic guilt, I 'm not apologizing to the crackheads of DC for accusing them on the internets of stealing my trashcan. I'm sure they are not really offended because

1. they are on crack and probably too high to be offended by anything; and
2. they probably didn't read my post because they probably sold their computer to buy money for crack.
   

So....no harm, no foul.

2. More House Stuff:
My free tools didn't arrive because some lazy UPS Driver lied to his dispatcher and claimed he came by the fortress five times and the final time delivery was refused. He only came twice and I wouldn't refuse something that's free (especially power tools). I think he must've been out getting "massages" from a whorehouse and lied about delivering his packages. I put in a call to UPS and I'm gonna call the supplier and see if they can re send it. I hate UPS now. Not as much as hate olives or people who stand in your way on the escalator, but I do hate them.

3. My iPod:
Re-loading every single CD I own into my MacBook because I accidentally erased them off my iPod which had been "sync'd" to my old iMac is even less fun than it was the first time I did it. This is probably like saying "getting my wisdom teeth removed the second time isn't as fun as the first time" but I'm trying to keep positive here. I'm starting to hate Steve Jobs and his pretentious hipster black turtlenecks. Not as much as I hate UPS, but I hate him.

4. Ninja Stock Picks:
Today was a good day for the stock market (and the Ninja Porfolio). My portfolio went up $2700 today. That sounds great until I mention that it went down $9000 yesterday.



Smith and Wesson, the second largest holding in the Ninja Portfolio went down 40% yesterday. I don't want to blame Dubya, but what the hell kind of a country do we live in where Republicans get elected and a gun company still can't make enough money to let me be rich enough to move to a tropical island and drink myself into a stupor for the rest of my life. Instead of worrying out bailing out subprime borrowers, who made their own mess, how about some nice government contracts for some American gun manufacturers. And by "some" I mean Smith and Wesson (the other gun manufacturers can go fcuk themselves for all I care).

Anyway, since I'm down a few thousand bucks, I may start charging a subscription fee for this site...anyone wanna buy some CDs? How about some art from people who's names you don't recognize? Maybe you could "invest" in my blog as a (very) silent partner?

5. Halloween:
Despite my not decorating the ninja fortress for Halloween (partly because it's a military facility and shouldn't be decorated and partly because I've been busy, but mostly because I've been lazy) I've had some extortionists come by and I've had to pay them mafia-style protection money in chocolate mini Hershey bars and Kit Kats. It's funny how people are so forgiving when it comes to children. If I put on a ski-mask and threatened to vandalize my neighbors houses unless they paid me, I don't think the police would be as forgiving.

6. Random: I'm debating about whether or not to post about my recent encounter with a crackhead/mugger. The people I've told the story to think it's funny, but I get angry thinking about it so I don't know if I will. Does anyone care about that or should we keep it light?

Odds and Ends

I guess it's time for more randomness.

1. Stolen Trashcan
Another blogger had their trashcan stolen recently in DC. They jumped through the proper hoops and got a new one in a couple of weeks. I can't go that route because I HATE dealing with the DC goverment and I can't go two weeks without throwing out garbage while I wait for a new can. (if you put the bags on the street without a trashcan, you will be fined). The smells from my attempts at cooking are bad enough, but if it was mixed with the smell from two weeks worth of rotting garbage then it would smell worse than Rosie O'Donnell's va-jay-jay, and who wants that?

I guess I *could* borrow one from one of my neighbors (but not the Sudanese guy, because of our border wars over the driveway) but then I would owe them something and the image of one of my neighbors showing up in the middle of the night with a dead hooker in the trunk of his car and saying "c'mon bro, you owe me one...I lent you that trashcan, remember?" just keeps popping up in my head. I don't think my neighbors are the kind of people who go around killing hookers and then asking you to help them get rid of the body, but if I don't borrow their trashcan, then I will never find out. So I like my way better. Besides, despite the disturbing number of Google searches for "dead hooker jokes" (thanks for that, Rock Creek Rambler), and "how do you get rid of a dead hooker" which bring people to my blog, I don't know how to get rid of a dead hooker, and I don't know any dead hooker jokes. Well...except for one:

Q: How come it's not a crime to kill a hooker or a lawyer?

A: Because they are both already dead on the inside.

Anywho...I need that trashcan for other reasons too. I have some debris left over from some projects and I put a leeetle bit in each bag of trash bag that I throw out. I put enough to get rid of everything, eventually, but not enough that the trash men will notice I'm using them to get rid of my crap instead of driving it to the dump because I don't want to get fined.

2. House
A. I'm gonna have someone come out in the next week or two to give me an estimate on the kitchen countertops. I need the countertops to have a working sink. I'm getting really tired of washing my dishes in the bathroom sink. It could be worse, I guess. If I had to wash them in the toilet, that would be worse, but I digress...

B. It's getting cold out so I need to check out the perimiter of the ninja fortress and seal any holes so that mice don't come in and want to hang out inside when it gets cold out. I guess I could buy a cat and not worry about the mice but

1. cat's poop *inside* the house, which is pretty disgusting;
2. they shed hair, which is pretty annoying too;
3. lot's of people are allergic to them, and it's kinda creepy the way they watch you having sex;
4. the only people who should own cat's are women in their 60s, and only if they have several of them and throw birthday parties for them.

C. I bought one of those digital thermostats last year and was too lazy to install it, but I think I will do it this weekend. I like the fact that you can program it to turn on and off whenever you feel like it. It's kind of annoying to manually turn the heat off when I leave for work and then come back to a freezing house and turn it back on. I guess I could leave the heat on all day, but I don't want to do anything to make my place more hospitable for the mice. When they are deciding which house on my block to move to, I want my place to be dead last on their list. When looking for a place to crash, the mice should think of my place should be the equivalant of sleeping on a old futon with funny stains on it, in your friend's drafty basement with the dog who likes to hump your leg.

3. Money:

I was thinking of taking out a home equity loan to pay for the countertops (and to hire someone to drywall the basement because I am sick of working on the place), but I should be coming into some money soon. I just finished my taxes last night. Yes, you read that right. Because I am a procrastinator (and I was missing a few documents) I filed for a 6 month extension on my income taxes on April 15th. The deadline for the extension also passed, and I still hadn't gotten it done when my "friend with benefits" came up with an ingenious idea to motivate me: No sex until you file your taxes. Twenty four hours later, I am glad to report that I should be getting back a LOT of money. I'm kinda pissed off that I gave the Federal and DC goverments a free loan for all this time. But I'm gonna try to do it on time next year.

4. The World Series

Sometimes people don't believe me when I say that I don't really follow most sports. In fact, until yesterday, I had no idea that the World's series was on and which teams were in it. And to be honest, I have about as much interest in following this as watching the Competitive Eating championships in Vegas on Spike TV.*

There is a sport I do follow though. I like to watch the Ultimate Fighting events. I was at a friend's house last week to watch it on pay-per-view (because pay-per-view events are always more fun if someone else does the paying and you do the viewing). My "friend with benefits" wasn't there, which is a good thing. There was so much testosterone in that room that if she showed up, she might have instantaneously sprouted a moustache. Not good. If I was into girls with moustaches, I would move to Italy.**

5. My iPod

I accidentally deleted EVERY song on my iPod. D'oh! I usually charge the thing on my clock radio, but I wasn't thinking and I plugged it into my Macbook to recharge it. Since all my songs were on iTunes in my old iMac and I never loaded the CDs onto my new Macbook (because it takes forever and I'd rather have other hobbies more interesting than "putting CDs in my laptop and waiting...". Not that I actually have hobbies that are more interesting than that, but I'd like to keep my options open.

*Yes, this is a real "sport" on SpikeTV. Is everything a sport now?

**I am 1/16 Italian, so I'm allowed to make jokes like this. And if you are reading this and in the mafia and want "vendetta", all I have to say is that "my name is Karl Rove and come and get it, bitchez!"

Thief!

I stole a trashcan today. You might be wondering why I stole something that the city gives away for free. Well, I put my trash out this morning and when I came back this afternoon, my trashcan was gone. Initially I thought someone stole it.

HIN: I'm calling the cops. It should be pretty easy to find. It's green and plastic, like every other trashcan in DC, but mine has a whole near the top where a racoon chewed a hole in it.* (at least someone appreciates my cooking) The DC Cops are so competent that they should find it in no time.

Friend: Why would someone steal your trashcan with a hole in it, if they could steal one without a hole in it?

HIN: Because crackheads will steal anything, that's why!

Friend: Why would a crackhead steal something that's free?

HIN: Because he's a crackhead!

This circular logic even confused me. Now I guess I could've called the city and asked for another one, in which case they will probably ask me to write a letter, then tell me they never got it, then I would write another letter, then they will relent and give me another trashcan and charge me a meelyun dollars and when I complain about the cost they will refer me to some obscure section of DC trash regulations and then tell me to go fcuk myself.

So I did the next best thing. I stole one from my crazy Sudanese neighbor. The one who dumps dirt in my driveway and rents to 30 illegal immigrants who all want to park their cars (with no license plates) in my driveway. Let him deal with the city. How do you say 'Karma' in sudanese?

*I assume it was a racoon because the thought of a rat doing that scared the bejeesus out of me.

Adventures in Law Part 4: The Green Eyed Monster Named Carl

In the next installment, I'll talk about the Capitol Hill Internship I did while in law school, but in order to put into proper context I think you need to know how I got the job (and I hate excessively long posts, so I'll break it up into 2 posts).

Now, I'm gonna be politically incorrect and say that women who go to law school are not known for their physical beauty. Let's face it, unless a girl is pretty and so smart that she doesn't have to study to get good grades, she's not going to law school because it takes a lot of hard work to get grades that are good enough to get into a good law school and the prettiest girls in your sorority are not sitting in the library on a Saturday night. Jus' sayin'


I got the internship because of my friend from school, who we'll call "Carl" (even though his name is Chris).* Now, Carl is one of those people that you want to hate, but can't. At orientation I met Carl shortly after I met Dirty Dave (who upon seeing the girls at orientation said "this looks like a fcukin' battered women's shelter"). As we've discussed previously, Dave is not known for his tact. At orientation, there were two stunning women who stood out from the pack--like they didn't belong there. There was Kelly (who got a modeling contract in NYC for a couple of years before college, but was born smart enough to get good grades without ever studying), and another stunner who said she wasn't a law student, but rather a CPA. When I asked what she was doing there if she wasn't a student she said she was here with her husband, and introduced me to Carl. Now Carl wasn't the least bit jealous of people talking to his wife because Carl had everything going for him (including a smoking hot wife who worked to support him while he read law books by the pool).

Carl was:

1. blonde hair, blue eyed, and looked like a Ken Doll;


2. Smart;


3. Althletic--Carl does triathlons in his spare time;


4. Tall--he was about 6'4" tall; and


5. a REALLY nice guy;

Carl had so much going for him that it proved that life was unfair, because if it had been fair, then he would've been born with only one testicle or something to make up for all the gifts that nature had bestowed upon him. (actually, Carl was from New Jersey, but I don't think that even bothered him).

But you couldn't hate, or even be jealous of Carl, because he was such a nice guy, that he deserved all the blessings of heaven that came his way. How nice a guy was he? Let me illustrate:

Before class one day we were playing a game (I think Dave came up with it) where you assume the world will end in a nuclear holocaust in 30 minutes. The game consisted of us going around and discussing which girl in the class you would nail in your last 3o minutes on earth. My answer was that I would go next door to Kelly's class, and if she was out that day, I'd come back and do the girl in the front row who always wears the slutty skirts and no bra.

When it was Carl's turn, he refused to play.

Ninja: Look, if the world is going to end, then your wife will never find out because all the witnesses will be dead. Just pick one!

Carl: No way...I love my wife and I wouldn't spend my last 3o minutes on earth being unfaithful to her.

Wow. He was such a nice guy that not only would not cheat on her in real life, he couldn't even be unfaithful to her hypothetically. If he was single, I would introduce him to my sister...although she probably wouldn't date him because he has a job and no tattoos.

Another time, I missed class and asked Carl for the notes from that day. Instead, he made me a floppy disk with all the notes from every class that semester. See? Nice guy.

Now, the way Carl got to work for Senator Shinebox, was that he mentioned to someone he met that he wanted to do an internship on Capitol Hill, and that person (an ex Hill Staffer) liked him so much (even though she only met him 15 minutes before) that she got him a job there. When I needed an extra line on my resume, Carl offerred to get me a job at his office. I had the shortest interview ever because as soon as they found out I was Carl's friend, I was hired.

Next Time: A Chris By By any other Name would be a Carl.

*the Carl/Chris thing will be explained in the next post.

Odds and Ends

1. Sickness:

Okay, I think the worst of the illness is past. Because the new trend in blogging in to give updates on bowel movements: My stool is starting to look normal now. I mean, the consistency, not the color which is darker than normal because of the after effects of Pepto Bismol (which tastes like you are drinking pink chalk). I used my Wolverine-esque mutant healing powers to destroy the virus before it could escape the fortress and destroy all mankind. No need to thank me, people.

Okay, I think I'll avoid this latest blogging trend and leave that for the people who's blogging content is identical to their stool samples.

2. Home Improvement Experiments

I bought a pneumatic framing nailer the other day, and because it came with safety goggles, I was gonna do some work-related experiments by shooting it into dangerous surfaces and seeing what happens (hey, don't give me safety goggles and not expect me to use them, jus' sayin'). But I'll put that off for a couple of weeks because I'm gonna be reviewing some other stuff. Someone from one of the tool manufacturers is gonna mail me a cordless power tool with a new battery that they want me to review on my site. UPS tried to deliver it today, but because I'm not a hausfrau sitting around watching The View, I wasn't home when they came. But this could mark a turning point on my blog. I have foregone the use of advertisers on my blog because I don't believe blogging should be corrupted by capitalism (and because I have no idea how to put up banners, and because I don't trust "the Google" with my bank account info). I heard that some people get laid from blogging, but I didn't know you could get other free stuff (besides pooty-tang) from blogging. Who knew? If anyone else wants to give me stuff (including pooty-tang), please contact me at HomeImprovementNinja@gmail.com.

3. Art:

Okay, in the comments to the art post someone asked me what my art looked like because they wanted to get laid too, I guess (who doesn't?). I'll post pics of the 3 pieces that I bought recently.


This is the piece that the artsy fartsy chick with the tattoos and piercings got all horny for. This piece is about 2 feet by 2 feet. The Title is "Accountability" and, yes, those are bullet holes. I don't know how art can make a girl hot, but then again I have no idea how millions of women can sit through an hour of Grey's Anatomy each week, so there you go.



This piece is about 3 feet by 2 feet. The piece is titled "Blue Stars", in case you didn't know. I don't know the effect that it will have on women because it hasn't been field tested yet, but it looks good on my wall, which can't hurt.






This is a huge piece. It's about 5 feet wide by 4 feet high. The title is "The Overwhelming Nature of Contemplating the Universe and the Desire to Embrace Complexity" (no, I'm not making that up). The artist is a friend of mine who's got a solo show coming up that I'll be pimping in an upcoming episode of "Free Plug Fridays".