Join today... SEVEN PEOPLE ARE AFTER YOU

Mylife.com*... what is the point of this? I just saw the commercial for it between segments of Gangland: Pagans. It's my understanding that you dont actually find out who these people are who are looking for you. So is the point just to drive yourself crazy with paranoia? excitement? anxiety? about who these fuckers are? Don't people have enough to be anxious about these days? and how do you know one of those "seven people" who looked you up wasn't you one night? you've got a big date, you just met the guy, he's hot and you're worried about that one time you went to [insert place here] and let your friend post [x] picture up on the internet because 'hey who gives a fuck whatever i'm drunnnnk! I LOOK HOT!'.** Hey, I'm going to google myself. Uh oh!

You may be asking, "why not at least look at it before you bitch about it, you dick". Well, because there are a lot of websites I will visit on this laptop, bad and good, once or more, but stupid shit like mylife.com* will not be one of them... even if it is for educational purposes.

"Seven people are looking for me? Seven? Wow". Bitch, why is that exciting? It could be stalkery men you don't want to talk to, or even stalkery women you're not friends with anymore because they are life ruiners. And why can't these seven people who are looking for you just man up and either call you, email you, or send you a facebook message. The latter two are much easier to obtain than just aimlessly searching for someone. One or two, great... but SEVEN? Is this supposed to draw people in to using your service? Because the idea of SEVEN people looking for me that have obviously not contacted me makes me super uneasy.

Maybe mylife.com* is NOT the problem, maybe the sordid sketchbags of my past, present, and future are the problem. I guess it doesn't really matter because whoever came up with Mylife.com* is probably making more money off chumps than I'm making being a working chump.

You win this round, mylife.com*

*this post is not sponsored, endorsed, or comissioned by mylife.com, though I have used the name several times. Do not join mylife.com after this post... or do... you'll lose either way.

**I know this sounds like something that I might have taken out of the book of my own life, but it hasn't. I swear. Honest.

Thanks to the guy who made this video:

late night lights...

Billy Joel said "only the good die young". Well, Billy Joel, you're old and still alive and not so good anymore. Maybe only the stupid die young because they haven't worked out a balanced way to go hard while still enjoying their lives.

Yep. That's absolutely it.

brought to you by the memory of an adequate date

There are two kinds of people in this world...


The kind who pee in the pool (ocean, lake, etc) and the kind who don't.

Think about that.

bloggers block

"let's just cuddle instead..."

Two attempted blog posts later... I have decided that I cannot get it up to blog about the two good ideas I have. I think I have bloggers block. You know, when it just doesn't feel right, it doesn't feel right and I am someone who cannot half ass a blog post. I can't half ass anything, actually. That "make 'em laugh make 'em laugh make 'em laaaaaugh" bit comes to mind, and if I can't do that, it's just not really there for me. Yes, I can express what I like, but if it's not true to me and funny or well said in the style I'd speak in, well... it just can't happen.

This is an interesting thing to happen, as I finish Paul Auster's New York Trilogy, which occasionally touches on the purity of words and the whole sign, signified relationship of words. A lamp is a lamp. Without the light bulb, is it a lamp? No. There is this whole part of one story about isolation and the formation of language as well... but I'm not here to write about Paul Auster. I probably wouldn't do that book much justice anyway. (Self praising moment: I ripped through it in two days... that felt great, it's been a long time since I've read like that). It just seemed an odd time to read about this and well, have something similar happen.

When things like this happen though, it tends me make me wonder if I've lost my spark. Perhaps it's just a moment of temporary insanity, a bizarre rush of idea waves that comes too swiftly for me to decipher what exactly is coming at me. Whatever it is, the pot of coffee is still brewing and not ready to be served yet, but I did just want to say something here.

So what's in the future for this blog? Some of the following:

*a delightfully revolting post about awful pick up lines and why men need to get a clue

*a list of words and terms that make my skin crawl and will undoubtedly have me on the floor trembling with disgust by the time it's over

*a post about why we need to put down the smart phones and get back to reality so we can stop misinterpreting each other and start paying attention (by we, I could very well end up meaning I... this might not be a relatable entry)

*why Jersey Shore is more than a joke

and who knows what else will sprout a growth in my odd mind. it's me. you never know what to expect... kind of.

Now that I've sort of kept this blog going I feel better already. We now return to our regularly scheduled conversation with Lindsey regarding cuddling, boobs, and cheese dip. Happy Labor Day. In the words of Lt. Dan, "god damn bless America".

Where have all the classy men gone?

A song for the ladies...

In a city of 8 million plus, dating is no easy feat. When about half of those are drunk men at bars, it's even worse. Is your future husband/boyfriend lurking at a bar? Most likely not.

My message to you, single lady friends especially, is do not give up hope.

Men are pigs. Women are too. After a few encounters tonight, what I really am asking myself is not "what's wrong with me?" (which used to be a frequently asked question after a booze fueled night out) but "where have all the classy men gone?". It is NOT ok for men to try and pick you up using lines like "I don't mean to offend you, but you look like you give great head" or "girl that smile is so adorable you've got me sprung like a slinky"*. What is definitely unacceptable is men who resort to personal insults when it's clear you do not want to have sexual relations with them (I'd call it what it is, effing, but I'm trying to keep it classy myself, if only for this one post). Men, as I've learned, seem to have an even harder time when a women basically tells them, in so many words, you are not for me. Let's grow up, shall we? You're drunk. You're obviously not Mr. Personality with your approach (in said cases), and well... apparently contrary to what most of these men seem to think, you're not hot or cute or attractive to me at all. Not everything is to be treated like a sport. Women are very forgiving of many things that men are not. It's not just about a look, it's about a personality, and if you don't have it, the looks just deteriorate from there.

How about you guys learn to handle rejection instead of throwing a tantrum? Yes, no one likes to be rejected, some just handle it better than others, but it is NEVER ok to resort to two major insults just to get back at a woman - those being sexuality and weight. Frankly, calling a girl a slut because she won't get with you is just not valid. If we were sluts, we'd be getting it on with you even though you're a total degenerate piece of trash who has no concept of how to approach a lady. As far as weight insults go, it's a cheap shot. Women of all sizes and shapes do NOT like this. And men know it. While I never expect a man to just walk away, is there no better way for you all to handle this? Two seconds ago you were hitting on me... now I'm a fat skank? Maybe that flies with some women who are more insecure, but the fact of the matter is, no matter what you're like as a woman, you should never accept being called fat or a whore, or both. These are low blows and it is NEVER ok to believe that because some drunken idiot at a bar or on a sidewalk or wherever says this about you, it is true.

So where are the classy men? Silently observing somewhere as a minority in the dark corner of a bar, perhaps? At a coffee shop? On the bus or subway? Who knows. My message to all you ladies out there though is NEVER let someone call you these things. No matter what size or shape you are, there will always be some dim witted fool who feels so hurt that he can't even get laid by a [drunk] girl (who may or may not be drunk to score or just out to have fun with friends after a long week) that he will resort to calling you a whore or fat because he knows that this is where women get really hurt. It's classic button pushing. Are there classy men still out there? The kind of male who can at least insult you with wit and not about something petty but a character flaw, if anything?

The moral of this is, love yourself no matter what you look like, have good friends, and to quote Jersey Shore in a way they probably never thought they'd be quoted: "Do you and enjoy your life". When all is said and done, you will find a guy who appreciates this. He's just likely not going to be at your local watering hole. Remember that intelligence is sexy, not "6 inch heels on hot model girls" who still probably want nothing to do with said dude... or he wouldn't be on the street trying to pick you up.

Stay strong. Fight idiocy... and when someone asks you for a lighter, tell them no.

*these are things that have actually been said to me and I find them to be completely unsexy and in poor taste... and if you know me, you know there isn't much I find in poor taste.

The Midwest: Revisited

I almost always play music through iTunes on shuffle, so last night when Karate "This Day Next Year" came on (a song I hadn't heard in forever), I was transported back to the first time I heard it all over again, in my bedroom the very first time I moved away from home. It was a very small room, which thankfully meant there wasn't room for half the crap I accumulated by the time I left Illinois, with nothing much on the walls, and a small desk with a laptop. The best part about this room was the access to the roof. At night on a cool autumn evening I'd leave the window open, let the curtains blow, and go out on the roof to smoke cigs, sit and talk with friends or just watch what was going on outside... you know, typical stuff people do when they have great roof access. Wow I miss those days. Anyhow... my dear friend Sam would come over quite a bit and we'd always play music and he'd introduce me to some new and wonderful things or we'd revisit old classics together, while I smoked entirely too many of his smokes (if you're reading this, thanks again Sammers). Karate was one of those bands he introduced me to, and I thank him (thanks!) for it a thousand times over because he is right when he says they really are one of the most perfect bands. Before I start a discourse on that, let me get to where I was going...

So this random play made me think about songs I love that make me think of great Midwest nights or just my time there in general. While I can't cover all bases, here are some of the more widely known songs (forgive me, some of these videos were not really all that available on youtube, so I'm working with what I've got), in no discernible order:



Braid - Never Will Come for Us



Getting to see the first night of Braid's reunion tour in Urbana was a huge highlight in music for me even if the show did sort of stink and none of them looked happy to be together again. This song brings out a nostalgia in me but also makes me feel hopeful of something good to come. It just always puts me in a good, go getter, whimsical mood. It reminds me of drives on 74, porch/roof parties, or just sitting in my friend Eric's bedroom as he'd randomly "DJ" and fill the entire house with sometimes not always welcome music.




Karate - This Day Next Year



I already kind of went into this, and forgive me this is not the full song, but it's probably one of the most evocative songs I've ever heard. There is something about this incredibly perfect solo that always makes me feel a little melancholy but comforted. I can almost smell Autumn when I hear it and am sent back to my old bedroom on Main Street. Everything is just so well put together and played... it's beautiful, really.




Mineral - Love Letter Typewriter and Palisade







While they are two separate songs, I always lump them together because the transition between the two (not as apparent here) is so flawless and wonderful and well done that I can't hear one without the other. I spent many, many, many hours listening to this album with Eric and various other friends and it always takes me back. Singing it with the windows down, playing it at home on the beach when I'd come back during the summer to ease my "homesickness", and hours spent hunting for any and all Mineral vinyl on ebay (which I now own most of, save one that I've been too lazy about). Chris Simpson really knew what was up... there's a powerful loneliness in his voice at times yet a strength through the guitars. Eric would usually start this song out and within the first few notes ask "How bad?" or screaming "KABOOM!" in regards to feeling bummed. Simpler times, man.




The Get Up Kids - Central Standard Time



While I don't really like Matt Pryor's solo version of this song, I absolutely love the song itself. The minute I begin to play this song I get flashbacks of going to Tanner's Orchard with friends or being at a show at the VFW on Western in my With Honor hoodie, trying to dodge some shifty scene going on or scam. Much like with Karate, I can smell the Autumn air and even get a picture of orangey yellow leaves and parties and porches and walks home from class. This song just makes me think of my love of the Midwest... it is my love of the Midwest. That's corny, but it would comfort me a lot while I was away or sometimes feed my anxiety about returning, wondering if things were still the same or not and would I be alright when I came back. Lyrically, it's a big one for me.




Modern Life is War - The Outsiders (aka Hell is for Heroes pt I)




I can't really think of the Midwest without thinking of Modern Life is War. Their energy, Jeff's lyrics (no adjective can do them justice)... I'm not going to even go any further because I'm going to gush. In fact... I'm feeling verklempt. Talk amongst yourselves. [...] It passed. Anyway, BEST BAND.


HONORABLE MENTIONS (I don't like lists consisting of non-listy type numbers ie: 5 or 10):


Fall Out Boy - Sophmore Slump or Comeback of the Year? (and all of Under the Cork Tree)




I think I have sang this album with essentially almost every person I've met in my Midwestern lifetime. I've got nothing but fond memories of summer, friends, car sing-a-longs and long drives (short ones even) with some of the best people I've met to date. This record will always make me think of all those good times with all those GREAT people (love yoooou). Little more needs to be said. Totally feel good record.




R. Kelly - Ignition (remix)



I can't talk about my adventures in the Midwest without mentioning this song. This takes me back to Lindsey's POS, two door blue/green car and riding around to the mall with her and Boomer or having a billion people crammed in there on the way back from Gabe's or trips to shows and the QC etc etc etc. This was a great sing-a-long song that the three of us used to love and it still takes me back to spring drives around P-town, evaluating what exactly R Kelly is talking about in various lines, and things happening in a car (of the non-dirty variety) that were probably not supposed to happen in one. Maybe one day Boomer will sing the "cristal poppin'" line for me again and make me giggle, but for now I'll just have to rely on my memory for laughs.


Cheers, dudes. Thanks for all the good times and memories centered around these songs.

Party's Here

Let's face it, this blog has been running kind of slowly. I'm just not compelled lately to comment on anything, which, for me, is rare. So, when my dear friend Lindsey came to me with a suggestion that I should post about Jersey Shore, I thought, "perfecto!".

If you're reading this and you actually don't know me, let me give you a little bit of the deets on why this is long overdue. I love watching Jersey Shore. I watch it with my friends, I watch it repeatedly alone, I even watch it with my parents. I went to the Jersey Shore (not of the same variety as this Jersey Shore) almost every summer for my whole life until I was about 22. I am Italian. I am familiar with these stereotypes and fuck, I just think these people are so damn funny. I would NEVER want to be in one of those clubs they frequent on the show (in fact, I've told several friends that if there was a hell, mine would be eternity in one of those clubs, surrounded by clowns and pigeons, with Natalie Merchant** playing at a constant as people just screamed words I hate, specifically p**ties), I could never tan THAT much, and overall could not embrace that lifestyle... however, watching it is just too much. That being said, I share a certain bond with this show, which is pathetic in itself, and as dense as some of them might be, there is still a certain something that I feel for them as people. But mostly it's just hilarious. I can't say anything here that someone else hasn't said before... and probably better than I could.

So, getting back to the point, Lindsey suggested I update about Jersey Shore... so I've decided that weekly, I will update this with my favorite line of the week. You've undoubtedly heard me, or heard about me, quoting certain lines with accuracy a billion times ("Ronnie, you were dancin' with another girl!" "So I took alittlebitta snicker's pickle juice...", "you stawlked my whole life on the bowardwalk", "party's heeeere", et al), but this season seems full of potential new and overused quotables. So, I present to you, my Jersey Shore Episode 1 quote of the week from Ms. Snooki/Snickers/Schnookers herself:

"I am tan, and I like bein' tan, BITCH!"

I love this. Absolutely. They insult each other by saying, you're a pale white rat and she is unable to be swayed by the fact that the comeback insult was a comment on how she's too tan (which she is). You know what though? As ridiculous as it all is, as far as we saw, it shut Angelina up (which I am all for). I like Snooki. She's got a positive attitude and she has a good sense of respect... and she may rip Angelina's face off, yet another huge novelty of this show: people getting angry at each other and kicking ass for a, often times, very small reason. These things are amusing when you rarely see them and definitely don't take part in them.


Now, this all being said, I am even more excited for Thursday's episode and I can't wait to see everyone kicking the crap out of each other, partying, and saying more unintelligent shit (The Situation, ahem, looking at you dude). Out with the old quotes, in the with new.

Goodnight, farewell, jah bless Pauly D, and stay tuned.

**Carnival? Come on... seriously? I can't take that kind of shit. There's nothing wrong with that kind of hippy dippy boho women's movement type stuff, but unless my prophecy of becoming Sally Jesse Raphael meets a high school art teacher meets a crazy cat lady in that condo at the beach is fulfilled, I probably won't be abandoning my razor any time soon in favor of women's lib.

portrait of a real life addict

"I wish I knew how to quit you"

Like many people out there, I have a routine for things. When I get home from work, I walk into my room, I throw my crap down, and I turn on the tv, open my laptop and make the rounds of my usual websites (which are sadly not in the slightest bit exciting or informative).

You've no doubt had some form of contact with those new facebook games that are out there. Someone's definitely asked you to be their farm neighbor, send them a bagel with lox, or shear their sheep. I am probably that person. Ok wait, I take it back... I am still somewhat living in reality, as I NEVER send any of these things to people who don't participate and I'm far too embarrassed to post these things to my live feed. I'm like a junkie, in some ways. I only talk about these things in certain company, I sneak on at work when things are slow to tend my crops, I make sure the timing is right when I plant something, and maybe (I said maybe) I've spent a rouge dollar or two so I can upgrade to some better shit.

It started with a certain farming game. One of my cousins had a funny post up about how she had to harvest her crops "what crops? I'm from Brooklyn!" (trust me, her original post was much funnier) and so I decided to give it a try. Eventually, that wasn't enough. While I was waiting for my crops, I decided to start cooking things. When both of those couldn't keep me entertained, I decided to start digging for gold. (I have to make note: this is the one game that has not stuck. Most of the people who play one of said mentioned games play the other, but NO ONE was playing this game. That's a sign. Wow, I really need help.) During this time, things were calm.

I'd check my sites from the work computer before I went home at night. Then I started checking mid-shift if nothing was going on. Slowly I evolved to checking at friend's houses when hanging out and nothing was going on. Eventually, I couldn't put down my laptop until everything was harvested, cooked, prepped, and whatever. Sure, I still live a normal life, I just started thinking a little too hard about this, strategically. "Ok... I get out of work around 8. It's 2 now. I have to pick something that takes longer than 6 hours to cook". I'm disgusting myself even writing this. Whoever created all these games (ok, I'll admit, I know it... it's Zyenga) had a sucker like me in mind. As if I don't have enough working against me.

It's even dragged into conversations now. My latest venture into prairie life somehow worked itself into the following conversation/discourse with my friend Lindsey (hay hay!), which became immediate proof that I need a serious intervention.

i cant get married in my new game until i get my general store built but no one wants to send me the parts :(

you do realize how hilarious that sounds, right?

yes and no. i am so sucked into these lameo games that it almost comes out without flinching. then a part of me says "you live in 2010.... you're not from the prairie... if you really saw cows and chickens youd probably be grossed out by the smell... so what is the appeal here?"

also, on what planet can you not get married until you build a general store? what kind of man only wants you once you've got a general store on your property? and who the hell has a big enough piece of land to accomidate that? assume general stores even still were all the rage and not just a place where you go to buy candy sticks when youre visiting colonial williamsburg or some shit

people could just take whatever they wanted back then because who the hell was going to stop you? no one! the worst thing that could happen was oh no a buffalo is on this land... guess we've got to move down a couple hundred feet to build the log cabin and general store and farm on land no one cares about

thats why we're so fucked up as americans... because years and years ago people just took and did whatever the hell they wanted and now we're locked in that mindset. years and years ago someone really wanted to get married so they just mosied on over to that plot of empty land, built that general store and then their husband rode on in from the sunset

NIC, SAVING AMERICA THROUGH FACEBOOK GAMES.

Yes, I realize all of that probably makes me sound like a huge tool and is more than likely not even remotely accurate (I may have read too much Laura Ingalls Wilder as a kid) but where did that come from?! Is that what this shit does to you? Provokes discourse by hitting sensitive areas for single 27 year old women who can't get married without a general store?! If only life were THAT easy.

The point being, somehow these ridiculous games are like crack for me and I just don't know why. I'm losing all sense of brain power the longer I play them. I'm from the city for chrissakes and it's not like I'm even learning how to farm or how to live in the middle of a field. I'm not getting tips on actual gardening or farming. I'm pretty sure we all know dig, plant, water, harvest. That's it! I'm finished! I'm going to go pick up a book and regain my life back!

....right after I water my clover.

The Volcano has burned me

"Bye bye baby bye bye"

As I procrastinate on getting up to get to LGA for my awesome flight to Katie and Steven's wedding (woohoo!), I want to leave everyone with some words of caution, wisdom, or just plain old stupidity on this, the weekend of 'Merica's fine, fine birth.

When parts of your body have only seen the sun maybe two or three times in 27 years, it is probably best not to go in a tanning bed known as "The Volcano" and expose those parts again.

If you want to celebrate freedom, nascar and awesome pyrotechnics while not having your clothing feel like a cheese grater against your skin this fourth, I highly advise against this. Perhaps I advise against tanning beds at all, but when you need a base for the beach (and a wedding), you've gotta do what you've gotta do.

Volcano - 1, Nic - 0?

Maybe... but ultimately, I'm getting the hell out of dodge, so I win. Suck it, Volcano. SUCK IT.

Introductory post...

"Well let me just say this, about that..."

I guess I should make some kind of introductory post here, so lets get started.

I started this blog on a wing and a prayer (that's absolutely untrue, by the way) after much encouragement from my wonderful friends (sup dudes? love ya!) as a place to post all the shit I have an opinion about or just random fleeting thoughts of insanity, and the occasional witty quip that I make (sometimes when sober, usually when drunk). Also, to post all the shit I don't want to clog up Facebook with but would like to expound on.

There will be no emotional mush (like I've written on that little side bar this ain't Live Journal circa 2000, baby), there will be no deeply personal information about myself (odds are you know this stuff anyway since most people who will read this are undoubtedly my friends - hi again!), and there will be no posting of clowns or mention of the word p-a-n-t-i-e-s (I hate that word). What there will be, however, is a whole lot of malarky, photos and youtubin', mouthy opinions, the unfiltered strange and wonderful, and an occasional grammatical error (deal with it).

And that about covers it. Time to go pack now.