Everything is wrong with me
Friday, October 01, 2004
 
grumpy about everything
First, I have to get something off my chest. Anyone who reads on the subway while standing without either hand on a rail and constantly stumbles and falls into me the whole commute deserves to be crucified.

Have you seen these people? They're so engrossed in The NY Times that they need two hands to read it, so they stand in the middle of a crowded train and sway. Then, when the train makes a sudden movement, they stumble into those around them, acting surprised, but NEVER apologizing and NEVER reaching for the rail.

JUST HOLD ON TO THE RAIL. You can still read your paper. Most human beings are capable of holding and reading at the same time (unless they have no arms). This is not hard people. Trust me.

Maybe I'm just grumpy because I'm finishing my third consecutive five-day work week. Because of vacations, holidays, and sick days, I haven't worked three full weeks since (gasp!) April. I don't like it.

Or maybe I'm grumpy because my tooth is fucking (sorry, "f-ing") killing me, and it kept me up last night, tossing and turning and forcing me to beat off twice. I think I finally feel asleep at about 7:41am, and when my alarm went off four minutes later, I "woke up" and in a fit of rage set my curtains on fire. So now I have no fucking curtains. Sweet. Anyway, if this keeps up, it's going to be just like "Castaway" except instead of an ice skate I'll use a letter opener (I can't skate) and Tom Hanks is much much thinner than me.

The tooth kept me from a social engagement last night, which is a good and bad thing. Good and bad because it was a karaoke party. I love karaoke, and gave the greatest karaoke performance of all time in August, but I have to be bombed to do it. And I definitely would have gotten bombed enough to do it last night, and would have had a blast. However, I really shouldn't be getting breasted (drunk) on a week night, especially during the busiest week of the quarter, especially since my boss is finally starting to give me substantive stuff to do.

[Holy shit - I just read that last sentence over and it's official: I'm a pussy. Good lord. When did I turn 30 and start giving a fuck about my "career"? Wow. I'm ashamed of myself.]

Anyway, I did get to watch the debate between Bush and Kerry. And I know that you don't come here to read about politics. You come hear to read about how last night after dinner I had almost an entire canister of whipped cream. And how I ate it not by putting it in a bowl or shooting in my mouth, but by putting it in the palm of my hand and licking it off, an act which so disturbed my roommate Brian that after he came home from having a few beers he sat me down for a mini-intervention:

Brian: "Dude, you have got to stop with the whipped cream."
Me: "What? Why?"
Brian: "It's really not good for you."
Me: "It's better than a lot of desserts I could have."
Brian: "Well then you've got to stop shooting it in your hand and licking it off your palm. It's really, really disgusting."
Me: "I'll take your comments into consideration and get back to you."

But I have to mention a few things about the Bush-Kerry debate (I am admittedly biased).

First, Mr. President, it's pronounced like new-clee-uhr. Not new-qew-luhr. I tivo'd the debate, so when he went off out "nucular" weapons, I did a rewind, and, sho' 'nuff, he mispronounced it. Every time.

Now, I'm not going to say that President Bush is dumb. He is, in fact, a pretty smart guy. But you know what? I'm a pretty smart guy too. I'm not saying I'm a genius, but I went to a decent college on a (nearly) full-ride and graduated with honors despite my best attempts to kill myself and my liver with jello shots and Natty Ice.

So what's frightening to me is that I just may be more intelligent than the current president of the United States. Think about that: I think I am either just as intelligent or more intelligent than the leader of the free world. What's more, I think a lot of my friends are smarter than the President of the United States (not my roommates though - they ain't so bright).

Something just isn't right about that. The intelligence of the president should be beyond reproach, or at least not serve as fodder for late night talk shows every single night. But poor Georgie is target number one to Leno, Letterman, et al, and numerous blogs on the internet. It makes me sad. And crave rice pudding.

But, onto more substantive issues. For a guy who, if he stays in one place long enough you can see the pool of formaldehyde developing around his feet, Kerry did pretty well. He seemed strong, confident, and even a little loose.

I also liked his little anecdotal stories. A great one was when he spoke about how during the Cuban Missile Crisis, JFK's Secretary of State (Rusk?) went to meet with Charles DeGaulle to get his support. When Rusk said, "I can show you the photos", DeGaulle said, "No - the word of the president of the United States is enough for me." I forget what Kerry's exact words were, but it was something like, "Would that happen in this day with this leader?"

I have absolutely no evidence for this, but it's shit like this that resonates with viewers. The rest of the debate was a lot of:

Kerry: "Bust cut this by $300 million."
Bush: "My opponent is incorrect; I raised it by $150 million"

He-said, she-said crap that I completely forget. There was also a lot of pointless shit like Bush looking tired and frustrated toward the end of the debate, saying things like, "I know these people and I know how they work" referring to other world leaders, and "That's just a terrible idea. It's just terrible." referring to Kerry's plan of bilateral talks with North Korea (the quotes are not exact, but rather my own summation).

But, as my friend Ace Cowboy pointed out, Bush had a chance to deliver a Mortal Kombat-style death blow to Kerry's hopes for the presidency, and he didn't. Bottom line.

What my friend Ace didn't point out is that Jenna Bush, who I have developed a crush on, made an appearance.

Seriously, if anyone knows Jenna, can you please pass this site onto her? I don't think that'll she fall in love with me because of it, but maybe she'll send me an email, and then I can use that email address to find out where she lives, and then I can stand outside her place at night fondling myself and humming "Take My Breath Away". Because I need a new hobby. Badly.



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