Everything is wrong with me
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
my shitty roommate Ben, commercials, oral sex and obligations, emails, IMs, music, and the Sox
So my stupid fucking roommate Ben won $1000 this week.

See, my buddy Hal ran an NFL Survivor Pool. I don't want to get too into details because, though not overly complicated, I happen to be overly lazy, but at any rate fifty people put in $20 each, and Ben won the pot.

$1000. I could not think of a person who deserves it less. Not because he has money, but just because it should have been me. Especially because of the way Ben's going to spend it. When I asked him what he'd do with his $1000, he said, "I don't know...I have a wedding in a few weeks, and the plane ticket was kinda pricey, and I have to buy a new suit, so I guess that's what I'll spend it on."


So, so lame.

Good lord - if I had won $1000 in a football pool, you'd better believe that the people at our local liquor store would like me a lot more. This is to say nothing of the lovely, Eastern European and Latin American young ladies who ply their trade nightly at Private Eyes over in Hell's Kitchen. I'd probably break it down thusly:

- $100 on good liquor from the liquor store
- $100 on lap dances for my roommates
- $400 on one hell of a night of drinking/booby-seeing
- $60 on this
- $200 on extra large Magnum condoms just to impress the hot girl who works behind the counter at CVS
- $100 on presents for my family
- $40 on lunchmeat

And Ben's spending it on a suit and a wedding. That is, until my roommate Brian and I murder him in his sleep tonight.

Oops - did I just write that?


A couple of thoughts on the commercials that Fox has been showing incessantly during the baseball playoffs.

1) Fox has shown that promo for "House MD" so many times that the visage of Dr. Gregory House will forever be burned into my memory for as long as I live, and perhaps in the afterlife as well, until after a few months in Hell I kill myself because of my involvement in a bizarre love triangle with Eleanor Roosevelt and Lieutenant Dan from which my only escape is to die twice (Did he die? "Lieutenant Dan? Lieutenant Dan?!?")

[By the way, let the record show that after mulling it over for quite some time I called both my roommates and asked, "Who's a good fictional dead person?" - not a standard question on a Wednesday afternoon. I explained the situation, and how I wanted to use Lt. Dan, and they nor I could think of anything better. Just a little rare, behind-the-scenes glimpse at what goes on here at EIWWM. Look for the loaded DVD to come out in March.]

2) "My Big Fat Obnoxious Boss" is going to not only change the way Americans view television, but also change the way we treat each other. This show may single-handedly erase racism, world hunger, and sexism in one fell swoop. I have such a boner.

3) Nothing is worse than those IBM commercials about being "on-demand". The two guys talk about I have no idea what (business or technology or some shit), and I hate them. I also hate the one in which they ask, "Do you guys ever talk about anything but servers?" I can't adequately express my disgust and anger at these commercials. And I know those two guys are actors, but, so help me god, if they ever cross my path in real life I will murder them with a really old pair of pliers. Mark my words bitch.

4) Also on the murder list are Terry Bradshaw and Howie Long. Good lord. Enough with the Radio Shack commercials. Terry, you were much cooler when you were the mildly-retarded Steelers QB who couldn't spell "cat" and was manic-depressive and got divorced eight times. You were almost a role model for me. And Howie, I liked you a lot better when you were a Black & Silver-wearing hardass who went to Villanova.

Also, my roommate Brian told me that either the lead singer of Judas Priest or Elton John was quoted as saying, "If I could fuck any man, it would be Howie Long". Can anyone substantiate this? Please?

5) You know what commercials are good? The Holiday Inn ones which talk about "thinking better in the shower". In one, a guy in a towel invents an invisible plane, in the other he invents a dog translator - funny shit.

Those are good, but why do so many commercials suck? Can someone help me with this, or get me a job in advertising (paying at least $250K, requiring me to work from noon until 3pm Tuesday through Thursday)?


Great emails with my buddy Dom from Boston earlier this week.

Background: Dom was hooking up with this girl Mary for a while. I don't really know much about their relationship, but she apparently gave awesome beejers. Also, she's very artsy-fartsy. The relationship ended amicably, and the talk every once in a while.

So anyway, she emailed Dom and invited him to some play or some shit she's in. We were emailing about it, and I knew he didn't want to go. As I have written, there's nothing more awkward than seeing a girl you're hooking up with acting in a crappy play or singing in an a capella group, because those things are just so incredible lame they make me cringe.

Finally I asked him whether or not he was going to bite the bullet and go see the play. He replied, "Well, I guess I should. I mean, she did eat my semen. So I guess I owe it to her."

True friend, true. And what a gentleman. Ladies, if you're interested, Dom is currently single.


Speaking of emails, I've been terrible at answering (most) of them. I'm sorry for this, but I'm just really, really lazy and there are WAY too many of them. If anyone is interested in being my intern, let me know (WOMEN ONLY please).

Duties would include:
- answering my emails
- paying my bills (preferably with your own money)
- cleaning up any accidents I might have while drunk
- letting Brian stare lasciviously at you at all times
- making sure I don't do anything too stupid while drunk (including but not limited to: eating glass; getting hit by cars, buses, subway trains; lighting my beard on fire; trying to stop my ceiling fan on full blast with my forehead; etc)
- being shirtless 85% of the time
- baking carrot cakes of various size

If interested, please send your resume to eiwwm@lycos.com. Please note again that only women should apply, and please, no fatties.


Speaking of emails (or something), I have removed my IM name from my profile. I never thought I'd have to do this, but you people are crazy and harass me too much while I'm on my computer trying to arouse myself. It's very annoying when you're just at the perfect point of the porno when Kira Kener's about to get blasted and DickBoy211 IM's and says, "Are you really that hairy? I am hairy too."

So if you have the IM name, consider yourself lucky and don't go putting that shit on eBay or all the chatrooms out there.


Six songs:

"Shady Lane" Pavement
This song ends three times, and says the word "god" twenty-four times, including "oh my god" eight times in a row - twice. And it's still awesome.

"Bitten By Beautiful Teeth" Sahara Hotnights
My friend Kasey keeps suggesting kick-ass music to me, and a lot of the bands have girl lead singers. I don't know if she's doing this to turn me into a homosexual wannabe rocker-chick, but this is a good song. And maybe I'm interested in being a homosexual wannabe rocker-chick - what's it to you mother fucker?

"Kick Out The Jams" MC5
"And right now, right now, right now, it's time to...KICK OUT THE JAMS MOTHER FUCKER!"
This song is going to be my wedding song when I finally hit it big and marry that 19 year-old half-Cambodian, half-Danish sex pot when I'm 38, 450 pounds, and completely addicted to quaaludes and cinnamon. I also like to refer to it as "The Jason Mulgrew Cocaine Anthem", because, well, my family may be reading this, so I'll leave this alone. Anyway, when listening to this, do so in an open space, lest shit get destroyed. Every hipster neo-punk band rips these guys off, and for good reason.

"The Girl I Love" Led Zeppelin
Speaking of kick-ass - wow. Zep's running on all four cylinders on this bluesy jam, and they are really fucking rocking. Listen closely to John Paul Jones' bass playing - love it love it love it.

"Even If You Don't" Ween
Good old Ween. I could probably include one Ween song a week and not run out of songs for, well, a while. This one was recommended to me by Alex in CT, and it's a nice little ditty which rhymes "pissed off" and "jerk off". Pretty, ain't it?

"You Don't Have To Say You Love Me" Elvis Presley
Man, this song gets me. How many times have I said this to a woman: "You don't have to save you love me, just be close at hand" (Sorry, I'm thinking of, "If you tell anyone about this I'll fucking kill you!" That's what I say to women all the time. Sorry.) Still, a lovely, sad, powerful song. Elvis was truly King. King of Vicodin. And Cyclobenzaprine. And Valium. I should stop now.


To the Red Sox:

I want you to win, but please don't do so tonight. Can you do it tomorrow? Because then I might be able to take a half-day and go up to Boston, and I really think I have a good chance of procreating if you win, but only if I'm in Boston. Which is where I won't be tonight, but where I may be able to be tomorrow night. Understood?

So don't win tonight. I'm rocking my playoff beard for you, and I think this is the least you can do for me.

Jason Mulgrew
Internet Quasi-Celebrity

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