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Memos Tagged idiocy


Nov52009

MTV’s MADE…My Guilty Pleasure

I really don’t watch a lot of TV. When I do it’s usually something on the History Channel about the Nazi’s obsession with the occult or Vikings. One show I do have a ridiculous soft spot for is MADE, an MTV reality show.

made MTVs MADE...My Guilty Pleasure

Let me first start off by telling you that I am well aware of how terrible this show is. For those of you who don’t know the premise, it’s as follows: A high school student wants to change (usually an outcast of some sort, but not always) they want to be “made” into something different. A jock wants to be in theater, a nerd wants to be a model, a loner wants to be in a rock band, etc. etc. These students get assigned a MADE coach which is someone who is a “professional” in the area of expertise the student has selected (with varying degrees of celebrity). What happens next is completely interchangeable with every episode.

The coach and the student meet, the coach evaluates, eases them into some kind of training regiment and than turns up the juice. This either results in sending the student way out of their comfort zone or physically exhausting them to accomplish their goal in a 5 week time frame. The student at one point usually throws in the towel and completely gives up, which enrages the coach. These coaches stop their normal life to come down and train with these kids (whom more often than not have a terrible attitude while their being trained).

What always astounded me is one of two things. The MADE students when asked why they want to be “made” into what they have selected never do it because they have a genuine interest in it. It’s an alternate escape route from their normal life. They think by doing something radically different with their life, everything will change around them. Especially other people’s perception of them. That’s all well good, but in the meantime if you want to be “made” into a rapper, buy some rap cd’s or starting reading Vibe magazine. Your life goal is to be “made” into a surfer? Watch some goddamn surfing videos on the internet, familiarize yourself with a pro surfer before you meet your MADE coach.

The other thing is that none of these students want to try. Oh, you want to make your school’s soccer team this year? What did you think? Your MADE coach wouldn’t have you do a shitload of physical activities everyday? Give me a fucking break. What did you think playing soccer entailed? These fucking kids have no idea how lucky they are to have a professional come in and train them for FREE. Are we led to believe these are the values of suburban white middle to upper class (as is the class mostly shown on this show)?

Anyway, usually a day later the student generally becomes remorseful and reunites with the now skeptical MADE coach. The show is absurd, but seeing the students get reemed out and cry by their coach makes it easier to digest. If you’re really lucky, you will catch an episode where the student fails to achieve their goal. This actually happens more often than you’d expect and it almost makes the whole 60 minutes worth sitting through.



Oct292009

Seasonal Beer + Accelerated Holidays

holiday beer Seasonal Beer + Accelerated Holidays

I may love Sam Adam’s Oktoberfest more than any pirate has loved pillaging and/or booty. However, I was at the bar the other night and asked for the Sam seasonal to which I was told, “Just so you know – it’s the winter ale”. What is wrong with this statement? It’s the middle of October for christ’s sake (or at least it was when I ordered the beer). How can you not still be carrying a beer whose name sake is the month we are currently in?

There’s been a disturbing trend in recent years to speed everything up, most notably with the Holidays. At the end of the Summer, the Halloween stuff is out, beginning of October it’s Thanksgiving as soon as Halloween passes, Christmas shit is being pushed on the consumers. What the fuck? Even my office this year is having our annual Christmas dinner BEFORE Thanksgiving.

I know we live in the so called “modern age” and people like to get everything fast. We have cell phones with internet capabilities, gps systems, e-mail and etc. You can download music and movies weeks before they are officially released. I understand all that. All this Captain is asking is to keep seasonal beers within that season and to allow each legitimate holiday time to be it’s own.


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Oct202009

Bullshit Holidays

hallmark Bullshit Holidays

Fuck Hallmark and their bullshit holidays. My office took up a collection for “Bosses Day” last week. Now this was for my two big bosses in the office and I have a supervisor that’s technically my boss too. When does it end? Where the hell is my “Employee Day”? Why don’t they buy us all something for making them money? Why do I need to reward them for telling me what to do and making more than enough money to put them into a different tax bracket? Isn’t that what Christmas is for? As least than (usually) you get something in return.

My mother was confused the other day when she went to my Grandmother’s house and saw a card she was reading. My mom asked what it was for and my Grandmother told her “Grandparent’s Day”. What the fuck is that all about?

I realize we live in a capitalistic society, but fuck off Hallmark and take your bullshit, made up, fake ass holidays with you.



Oct142009

Fuck Off Philadelphia, PA

Up until this weekend, I had no issues with Philadelphia. Not only is it a fascinating hot bed of American history but it also share’s the title and location of one of TCM’s favorite TV shows.

On Columbus day I was lucky enough to attend a concert by the band, Them Crooked Vultures (more on that in a future post). Haven’t heard of them? That’s because they haven’t released an album yet and no singles. Trust me by 2010 you will know who they are.

Anyway, my companions and I stayed in a Holiday Inn Express right in downtown Philly. It was a swanky ass hotel with the WORST parking garage you have ever seen. By this I mean it was limited parking to begin with and the parking attendant spends his whole day moving cars in and out with some Austin Powers maneuvering so someone can go away for an hour and than come back. It’s hard to explain, but it was a serious game of Tetris.

When we went to check out the next morning, they slipped the bill receipt under the door. The bill had 4 charges, accommodations (obviously) and parking were the first 2. The next 2 were something I’ve never seen before in my entire life:

A state occupancy tax and a city occupancy tax.

bill Fuck Off Philadelphia, PA

What. The. Fuck.

I have never seen such a thing in my entire life. Are you telling me it costs my ass extra money just to stay in your shit-tastic state, not to mention an additional fee to stay in a city within that state? That is fucking bold, Pennsylvania. You need to get off your high horse and sit the fuck down.



Oct62009

Mall Kiosks

kiosks Mall Kiosks

Whoever developed this concept should be murdered in the most brutual fashion possible. The mall is never a pleasurable experience and like most men I wanna get in and out as fast as I can (insert joke here). If there is one thing I hate, it’s those damn kiosks. I honestly don’t know how most of them make any money. I never see anyone interested in getting their fortune told or buying a framed limited edition John Stamos lithograph.

It’s not their mere existence that bothers me. It’s the overly aggressive salesman that sometimes work there. Why can’t they be satisfied with the rest of those hourly wage fuckers that work there? Your getting paid to watch movies on your lap top, text, or people watch at a place that houses some of those most attractive women your sorry ass state ever sees. No, they have to harass you for a sale.

I always try to be as much of a dick to them as possible. Sometimes you walk by and they ask you if you want a free sample and you blow them off, that’s not enough for them. They will say, “oh, can I ask you a question?” or “Excuse me!?!?” tell them to fuck off or to get a real job. That bullshit kills me. Just because your “store” is in the middle of the mall walkway doesn’t give you the right to harass me as I’m walking by. Imagine if you walked by Dick’s Sporting Goods and some ass muncher stood out front of it’s entrance yelling, “hey buddy you need a new cup?” or, “lady, how about buying your kid a pair of roller skates?” That shit would fly for all of 12 minutes till that dude got knocked the fuck out.

Why do we give these kiosks so much leeway?



Sep92009

Driving Idiocy

I already told you how I feel about those fancy bicycle riders pretending to be cars. But, let me tell you what else pisses me off about driving.

Picture some jackass edging his car out into traffic, praying and desperately waiting for someone to let him so he can pull out. Out of the kindness of your otherwise black heart you stop right before you reach his outstretched car for him to pull out. The fucker isn’t even paying attention. You wave their ass in, flash your lights, honk your fucking horn and the mother fucker is fiddling with the radio or talking on the phone. Meanwhile everyone else behind you is sweating blood and on the verge of murder. Seriously, get a clue. If you want to be let out so bad, pay a-fucking-tention.

The reverse is true too. I can’t stand when I need to get into another lane and the guy in that lane instead of moving up 5 feet is playing with himself at the stop light. Be aware of your surroundings. I need to get in the lane you ass hat, pull up.

And another thing while i’m at it, turn your goddamn stereo down. I really don’t know what’s worse, shitty music played through a loud expensive car stereo or shitty music played loud on a shitty stereo. We get it, in the summer time you roll the windows and crank the tunes, it feels good. Do that shit within reason. The car across 3 lanes of highway shouldn’t be able to hear your music. Speaking of that, how come I never hear people blasting Nirvana or Van Morrison? It’s always T.I. or Souljah Boy. What the fuck? My bedroom is 50 feet from a road (not a main one) and I can hear people’s car music perfectly sometimes. I now know that people rock that shit equally loud at 7AM or 11:30 PM, it doesn’t matter. Join the human race you assholes and turn your stereo down.



Aug42009

The Office Kitchen/Break Room

breakroomone The Office Kitchen/Break Room

Now, I know not everyone is lucky enough to have a break room or kitchen at their job. If you do, you know how absurd they can be. There is a strange phenomenon that occurs between these walls.

In the refrigerator their will be food in there for over a year, I don’t mean food that rots (although, those can end up being in there for over 2 weeks). I’m talking about salad dressing and other shit. Someone brings something in for lunch and decides to order out that day and forgets about it. The same person will see it daily, but not realize it is their own. Meanwhile, you have to navigate your shit around someone else’s 9 month old hot pocket. Everyone is scared to death to throw it out too, so they don’t step on anyone’s toes.

No lie, their was a half dranken can of coke on the table in my office’s break room for a week. NO ONE would throw it out, because they weren’t sure the person was done with it. God forbid if it was your bosses! The person who drank half of it didn’t realize they were staring at it 15 times a day.

What the fuck?



Jun262009

For Whom The Bell Curve Tolls

BellCurve For Whom The Bell Curve Tolls

Those of you who have spent time within the walls of a class room are aware of being graded on a bell curve. Life offers us something similar i.e. if your riding high and life is good, beware for you will bottom out and not see it coming.

Things had been going splendid for me for so long, which is exactly why I should have saw it coming. I came home last Thursday and had no electricity in my apartment, it had been storming for a few days so I figured it was a power outage in my area. I left and noticed the people who lived downstairs from me had power. When I returned, I checked to see if maybe I had blown a fuse – nope, it’s not that. Ok, I’ll call the maintenance guy – no answer. Maybe National Grid can tell me more. Turns out my landlord (I pay a flat fee with utilities included) didn’t feel she needed to pay National Grid for months. So, I e-mail her on my blackberry to tell her this (she conveniently lives in another country) and sit in the darkness and wait.

After a few hours, I realized Captain Polish was gone for the weekend, raping, pillaging, and plundering. So I decided to move into his apartment until this got sorted out. I found his spare key and transported all my food and some belongings to his place and sat down to make myself some dinner. Immediately the door bell rings. It’s his 80 year old landlord, significantly freaked out. I have to explain to her the situation and win her over the only way a pirate can…

Nevertheless, I sleep there the night and go to work in the morning (at least it was Friday). I go out to eat after work and see a show. At this point all I want to do is sit down in Captain Polish’s place and have a beer and unwind. Well I’m in the dark fumbling for the key, trying to be as stealth as humanly possible (his landlord watches tv in her living room 24/7 and can hear everyone coming and going). I breaking the fucking key off in the goddamn lock. Here is where we hit rock bottom friends. I have no way to get into his apartment where all my food, beer and half my clothes are. It’s my only tie with modern civilization AND when he returns he won’t be able to get into his own apartment after doing me a huge favor. Plus, I was sentenced back to my abysmally hot attic apartment with one fucking window at the height of the Summer with no power for an indefinite period of time, through no fault of my own whatsoever.

Things did end up getting resolved many days later at just about the same point at work when everything collapsed. In the meantime, I spent a lot of days drinking piss warm beer, stepping on candles, trashing my apartment and visiting local yard sales.

Word of the wise. You don’t own the bell curve, the bell curve owns you.


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