Fire In My Pants [Heatwave]

For those of you not lucky enough (Read: Too poor) to live in Los Angeles, frankly, I envy you. Today. It's hotter than Kate Gosselin in a bikini up in here. You guys are in to stretched out, cunty Mom's also, right?

Just want another excuse to say "stretched out, cunty Mom." Thanks!

It's supposed to be like 103 degrees today (Fahrenheit. Editor's note: No Europeans allowed). Imagine if I weren't so classy and lived in the Valley, where it's 10-15 degrees warmer than near the ocean. You know what? Don't. No one should have to think of such atrocities.

Let me explain the Valley for those not familiar with it. Let's start with the obvious. Why "the valley?" Most people got tired of saying "the valley of despair" so it became colloquially know simply as "The Valley." You won't find that shit in any history books, fucking Communists and their revisionist history.

This looks like some out of control, third world country, doesn't it? Like, let's say...Puerto Rico? WRONG!! This is Van Nuys on a Sunday afternoon. Lunch trucks have been known to get so out of control in the valley, the riot police have to be called in. I've been raped twice just crossing the street in Sherman Oaks. OK, OK, once. On a related note: Legally it's not rape if you tip your "assailant."

While I'm incredibly frustrated with all the I'm not also equally as relieved I don't live in the valley. Wow, bitching on the internet can really be cathartic.

Biggest Loser?! More Like Biggest...Loser--Shit [Rants]

The Season Finale of BIGGEST LOSER aired last night and god DAMMIT did it piss me off. Pound for pound...

...that was not only the worst episode of the season, but one of the worst episodes of anything I've ever seen. Excluding, of course, that one episode of Frasier where Kelsey Grammer discovers he's really in to scat play.

Shit on my chest.

The biggest problem I had was the running time. IT WAS 3 FUCKING HOURS LONG. 3 hours. Just for a little perspective, here are all the things you could accomplish in 3 hours:

1. Tile and grout an entire rape room.

2. Successfully negotiate peace talks between Israel and Palestine.

3. Watch 6 Donkey Shows.

4. ANYTHING ELSE

Think of the thing you love doing most in the world. Now imagine doing that thing for 3 hours straight. Still sound like fun? No, no it doesn't.

Do you like heterosexual sex? --Er, I mean, just plain sex? Great, so do I. I swear. Do I want to do it for 3 hours? No.

Do you like food? Eat some for 3 hours straight. Still like it?

People have a hard time getting through The Godfather, arguably one of the best films ever made. The Godfather is 5 minutes shorter than last nights episode.

Michael, what is this shit? You know I don't eat carbs...

They could have fit all that content in to a 30 minute show and still had 12 minutes to spare. It's like stretching out an orgasm to 3 hours. At a certain point it stops being fun and starts being painful, just ask Rihanna.

We like to eat everything., including your will to live.

TV is supposed to make you happy. It's supposed to help you forget about the family of Guatemalans squatting in the pantry. Is it still considered squatting if you make them walk 3 steps ahead of you to dust the path? I don't like getting the soles of my shoes dirty, lay off.

Note To Self

I live with my wonderful girlfriend Emily. She's female and lets me touch her. Emily's mom is coming in to town this weekend, and boy will her arms be achy! That's how the joke goes, right?


She'll be the first real guest we've had stay in our new apartment, unless you count that "friend" of Emily's that stunk up our couch and stole most of our food. I still think it was a homeless dude that took her for a ride.

I thought it would be prudent to compile a list of things I need to do/hide/have surgically removed before she arrives. This will be in an effort to convince her that her daughter isn't dating some loser with a shitty blog.

1. Get morning wood under control.

2. Conceal the 2 packs of baby wipes I keep next to the toilet. I think Emily's mom knows she doesn't have a granddaughter.

3. Stop my morning ritual of blasting "Single Ladies" while I nakedly march to the shower.

4. Get afternoon through evening wood under control.

5. Remove the display of questionable photos of myself from the mantle. It's not my fault I look great sans pants.

6. Realize my dream of shaving a lightning bolt in to the cats fur is never going to happen.

7. Remove the chalk board hanging in the bathroom where I tally how many times a day I have a solid BM. Replace with this:

Poop is funny.

8. Have more solid BM's.

9. Stop making lists for myself which ultimately go ignored.

I think I can definitely do at least 3 of these.

I'm Back [Fuckers]

Due to sheer boredom and a love for my own ramblings, I'm back! Not much has changed; I'm still sickeningly good-looking/wealthy, I still have a deep rooted hatred for all non white (read: pure) people , and evidently I still remember how to type.

As I type this I'm trying to "procure" a copy of Photoshop in order to wow you with my image compositing skillz. In case my clever use of ironic quotes hasn't clued you in, I'm pirating Photoshop. It looks like I'm still Jewish, so that hasn't changed either.

Read my blog!

Update: Photoshop.com appears to be awesome and free.

I'd like to talk a little about traumatic experiences. Not my own so much, there isn't nearly enough time or accredited Internet Therapists for that.

Update 2: Photoshop.com sucks. If I wanted some fancy method to remove red eye I would stop smoking meth.

Anyway, this morning I was leisurely minding my own business, NOT looking at porn, when suddenly I hear my name being shouted from across the way.

"Hammer! Hammer!"

I've convinced everyone at work that my birth name is Hammer Rapenstein. It was surprisingly easy.

"Come here, something is on fire!"

I looked toward the first logical place, my loins. Thankfully, they were not. So I strolled next door to find the kitchen engulfed in smoke and smelling of burnt toast. I looked down at my loins again, just to make sure. Then I looked to the toaster. Ah ha!

It looked like this but not nearly as dramatic or tasty.

Let's call the person who discovered this...Panicky. I was then told that "since the car burned down," Panicky was uncomfortable with fire. Just to be clear, yes, I am a classically trained (Julliard) firefighter. The extent of my fire fight with the bread however, amounted to me inhaling and quickly exhaling. Imagine blowing out the candles on the world's shittiest birthday cake.


I'm all for avoiding situations that rehash traumatic experiences (Ask me when the last time I used a broom was. 1989.), but c'mon! Everyone needs to calm the eff down and put things in perspective. A flaming piece of toast is relatively harmless. Unless it's Rye. God DAMMIT do I love Rye bread.

The Future is Now

Emily was at school last night (that's what she calls her other boyfriend), so I decided to order myself a pizza. Rather than go for quality, I went for technology. I just really wanted to get that feeling back, you know the one I'm talking about. Remember the first time you saw "The Net"? Remember when Sandy Bullock (we're pally like that) signed online and ordered a fucking pizza? This was in 1995, mind you. That shit blew my mind.

Sadly, she was never heard from again.

My pizza house of choice was Domino's, because unfortunately, only shitty pizzeria's let you order online. Whatever, totally worth it. Come to think of it, the best part of that pizza was ordering it. Anyway, check out what the geniuses over at Domino's have invented:

It's kinda hard to read, but the progress bar is broken up into order placed, prep, bake, box, deliver. I literally stared at this flashing bar for 30 minutes until my pizza arrived. This is the pinnacle of technology, people. It's all downhill from here...

Don't Drink The Water

It was more what I could have seen. Let's just say I was offered to attend a show featuring donkeys. It was exactly as I expected it, and it was remarkable nonetheless.

Insert Coin Here [NSFW]

There had to be a perfect storm of bad decisions to bring this monstrosity to life. Not to mention, a lifetime of neglect and disappointment, a complete lack of decency, and most clearly, a love of Pac Man.

So, this is cool? I guess?

[Via Waylou]

Dental Doom [Motif's]

I've got an appointment with a tiny hook and mirror in about an hour. I hate that damn hook.

Fuck You.

I think I'm going to take my camera and try to get some sweet action shots. In other news, this is a funny video.

"Clothes to the Future" with Paul Scheer from Paul Scheer

The Red Panda of Doom

Red panda by Tambako the Jaguar

Look at this guy, he's amazing. I don't care if he likes to sleep with his head wedged inside me, totally worth it. I'd imagine he'd devour my cat, Mark, within minutes of coming home, so that's a con.



I would call him Donatello, and I would love him.

ProTip: Check For Milk THEN Pour Cereal [Buffounary]

Last night I went to sushi with Emily and some friends in Venice. We split a magnum of sake, followed by a post-sushi drink. After my third amyl nitrate jello shot, Emily decided enough was enough.

They make your butt-hole loose :)

Naturally, the first thing I wanted when we got home was a bowl of cereal. The following picture should explain better than I can.

I'm kinda proud of my drunken thought process, it perfectly preserved my last bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats. It's like that bug trapped in the amber in Jurassic Park. Don't feed the raptors!I can't wait to get milk...

People Are Ripping Me Off [Rants]

Whilst browsing various trashy blogs, similar to this one, I discovered not one, but TWO counts of theft. I'm choosing to ignore the fact that their posts went live about an hour before mine, but still!

He Does What?!

More Like Drunky LaBeouf

I am going to pat myself on the back though for coming up with a nearly identical title as WWTDD on the Obama Fistgate. That immediately got negated because of the fact that the WWTDD guy is a much funnier writer. Nonetheless, I still rule.

they do WHAT?

shia, wtf are you doing?

Please resist the urge to read this man's blog rather than mine.

Why my hip-hop posse would include Sarah Palin

My super-posse WILL rule the world one day.

Sarah Palin
Enforcer

Tracy Morgan
Entertainment/Scape Goat

Anderson Cooper
I need a minority.

More Like Drunky LaBeouf [Slow News Day]

Ruminate on this for a minute.

This is LaBeouf walking home from a liquor store, walking, because his license is suspended. Douche. He clearly isn't buying booze, unless Arizona Tea makes schnapps now. There really couldn't be a better way to divert attention away from your face. Bravo, Shia.

You may also notice the plastic bag wrapped around his hand. This is either to protect his injured lady-slapper or to stave off the compulsive masturbation. I have it on good authority (read:mine) that he can't stop. Stay strong!!

[via The Superficial]

The Cat's Got It Better Than Me [Funemployment]

After the Bonnie Hunt show today, I started getting kind of antsy. I stepped out on the balcony and spotted my cat having the time of his life. It's cold and rainy out, I don't have a job, and Bonnie Hunt won't be back on until tomorrow at noon! But Mark (that's his Hebrew name), is livin' it up.

"Why are you doing this?"

Aside from having my entire apartment to scratch to hell, he also has a Condo. CONDO! It looks more comfortable than my bed. Did I mention it's filled with catnip? That would be like living inside a cocaine laced Snuggie.

Relatively speaking, I'm pretty sure Mark has more room in his condo than I do in my apartment.

Are you kidding me?! I have to take a good 10 steps to take a shit, Mark just has to roll over. It really couldn't get any worse.

I recant that last statement. I'm not so much angry at Mark, just jealous. On the plus side, he doesn't have thumbs.

He Does WHAT?! [Idiocy in the Media]

I wish I had something to say that could top this.

Beeriversary

Today marks two momentus events; 1. It's the first morning in weeks I didn't wake up to myself screaming, and 2. It's the 50th anniversary of the aluminum can, brought to us by the Adolph Coors Co. I wish I was making that up. Check it out for yourself. The man responsible for countless cases of domestic abuse and uninvited bowel movements is this man.

He was so wasted in this picture.

That's Bill Coors, and he's my hero. The can was developed under the strictest of security. Imagine Guantanamo Bay, but with more nudity and beer.

"Um, guys? I can't really get this can to my mouth. Little help?"

From the article:

That can ultimately spelled the demise of the tin beverage can developed in the mid-1800s. Industry officials say the development of the Coors aluminum can forever changed the way people drink beer and other beverages.

Tin can?! Was there even a pull tab? Imagine being one beer away from temporary happiness and you can't even open the damn thing.

"Honey, where's the can opener?"

"Why?"

"Just give it to me, it'll be good for everyone."

Although, the upside is that once you're drunk and have an abundance of cans lying around, things start to get fun.

[Via RockyMountainNews]

When In Doubt, Sell Your Shit [Funemployment]

Sometime between 3AM and 4AM I had an epiphany. A little voice in my head whispered, "just sell your seed." This was confusing for two reasons; 1. I was certain that last round of primal scream therapy had exorcised the voice's; and 2. I had no idea what he meant. I just sort of shrugged to myself and went about staring at the wall.

"No, you idiot. Your sperm."

This was bittersweet. Although my confusion had indeed been relieved, my ears were now bleeding. I furiously navigated to the most legitimate looking sperm bank website I could find. I've learned, I mean heard, that quality of service is proportional to the number of minorities represented on their website.

Jackpot

I was balls deep in to the process (pun intended), when I was turned down quicker than Benjamin Button at his Senior Prom.

"Hi, I'm fourteen. Wanna dance?"

The very first requirement was a height minimum. Specifically, not elfishly small. Slightly defeated, I made my way home from the office (stand, rotate, take 3 steps). I was hoping to get in a couple episodes of Bridezillas, but that didn't go well. My little friend was back.

"Well?"
"Fuck you, voice. That was horrible advice."
"Hey man, don't kill the messenger."
"Look, just leave me alone."
"No one wanted your stuff?"
"What? Stuff? You said 'seed'. 'Sell your seeeeed'"
"No, tard. I said STUFF. Sell your stuff. Who the hell would want more of us running around?"

At that point, consumed by anger, I slammed my head into the oven door to teach that bastard a lesson. While I was cleaning up the blood, I really ruminated on what he said. Craigslist is definitely worth a shot.

At about 5AM this morning I posted an ad for an old LCD Display I had lying around. Within hours, a strange British man was in my house, paying me for goods, not services!! What a relief.

I'm going to consider today a success. I'm $50 richer and only have a mild concussion.

Inaugurating Funemployment!! [Funemployment]

Could there be a more ideal time to unveil the newest feature here @ SYSL? Short answer: Yes. But I'm bored, it's late, and I figured since Obama did some inaugurating tonight, why can't I?

With great pleasure, tonight I shall christen this new feature:

FUNEMPLOYMENT (patent pending)

Every so often I'll be bringing you new and exciting ways to help those lazy Tuesdays just melt away.

"I didn't approve the use of this picture"

So, welcome to everyone. To all the laid off employees of this fine country, to all those simply too lazy to seek out gainful employment, and most importantly, to my colleagues in the entertainment industry, who know more about Unemployment than Danny Bonaduce.

"Yes, I'd consider myself a self-starter"

OK, I'll admit it, I'm out of work. Yes, it sucks feeling like your talents are being wasted eating sheet cake and watching Home Improvement. Although that Randy Taylor can be quite the cad sometimes. It sucks barely being able to scrape by. I feel like it sucks for me especially. Allow me to explain.

I work in Film/TV. When a show is over, you no longer have a job. More often that not, this leads to long periods of unemployment. To compound the matter, the only real proactive movement is putting your name on an availability list at the Union. It can literally be months between working, and all you can do it sit around and wait for the phone to ring.

"God Dammit, Mom!! I'm expecting a call! Meatloaf sounds great, love you."

SO! What to do in these times? My situation is ideal: though I'm actively looking for work, most of my day is still completely devoid of activity. Which affords me lot's of time to create interesting ways to keep myself occupied.

Good tease, huh?

LOOK FOR WORK
Though the most obvious choice, you'd be surprised how many people actually forget this crucial step. Lately I've been using Craigslist, though it's hard to sift through all the pyramid schemes and trannies.


CLEAN YOUR HOUSE
Guys: If you're unemployed and live in a shit hut, chances are you don't have a female companion. If you do, she's cheating on you. Don't believe me? Check the last text she got, you won't be happy.


STRETCH THINGS OUT
Have to run to the store? Is it walkable? I bet you know where this is going you lazy fuck. Get off your ass and walk down to the store. You'll kill some time, get some air, get some exercise, and the pot at the end of the rainbow is that Lunchable you've been craving so bad.

Hope Has Come to Longs Drugs

This afternoon I was waiting in line at the pharmacy to pick up what some like to call "the cocktail." Perhaps that was too much information. Perhaps I have an empty void in my soul that can only be filled by divulging horribly private information about myself to whomever cares to listen.

Clearly, the kind staff at Longs hadn't gotten the memo about my Universal Fast Pass, valid EVERYWHERE. You haven't lived until you've shoved a homeless man to the ground because the Matzo Ball soup at the local Y is just that good. Begrudgingly, I was forced to wait behind four commoners. An older lady came scurrying up to the front of the line and proclaimed that she was "really late for a dentist appointment" and could she "please cut to the front? I only have one prescription."

"I'm really late for the dentist!"

The line took an impromptu vote, lead by the man with the tattered jeans and Converse All-Stars at the front. The vote was nearly unanimous. The lone hold out being the bitch in front of me. I swear to Allah, if I ever find her...

What really struck me though was what Mr. Trendy Pants said after that: "This is a good day to start doing that." That day, of course, being inauguration day.

That statement really affected me, it was actually quite emotional. Based purely on that one experience, I can whole heatedly say that this country is headed for a prosperous time. People are more hopeful, and consequently, happier.

To sum up: Can anyone hook me up with a Fast Pass?

I'm pretty sure I got scammed.