Since I’ve been living in Los Angeles, I’m sure plenty of people believe that I am living a very glamorous life. Well, I am: I live at home, I have a two hour commute, and my mother makes me dinner every day. It’s pretty rad. However, sometimes I like to imagine that my life is even more glamorous, so I will share with you a day in the life of my pretend glamorous life. Then I will share with you a day in the life of my regular glamorous life, just to see how little I have to go to achieve this fantasy. You know me: always giving minimum effort to achieve maximum result!
PRETEND GLAMOROUS LIFE
9:00 AM: Wake up to to the sound of “Crazy In Love” playing in my hotel suite at the Downtown Ritz Carlton.
9:01 AM: Walk out of my room to find Beyonce playing a stripped-down version of “Crazy In Love” on the white baby grand piano in the penthouse suite adjacent to mine.
9:02 AM: Fist bump Beyonce.
9:05 AM: Fist bump Blue Ivy on the way downstairs because we’re cool too.
9:30 AM: Have a champagne breakfast with Helen Mirren. She reads the NY Times out loud in her English accent while I pour her tea. It’s very fancy. We’re both wearing crowns because we can.
10:00 AM: Get picked up by my personal chauffer, Morgan Freeman, as we drive around downtown pursued by paparazzi. Thank god I had those built-in missiles installed.
11:00 AM: Meet up with Julie Andrews for a rigorous hike. We climb every mountain, ford every stream, while following every rainbow till we reached “Your Dream”, a super-secret mountain villa for super famous people only. I flash my veneers and we go in for some truffle fries, caviar, and peanut butter M&Ms.
12:00 PM: Catch a helicopter down to Hollywood for some really successful movie premier. I don’t really know what one, because I go to sooooo many, but it was fun.
12:30 PM: Go to the park with Jon Hamm where we feed breadcrumbs to Lindsay Lohan. Then we laugh about how handsome we are and talk about doing this again.
1:00 PM: Get lunch with Paula Deen, Ina Garten and Mario Batali. Then we realize the elevator won’t hold all of us, so we kick Batali off cause we don’t do gingers. We have such a great time without him that we send him pictures of us at lunch with the text, “Suck it, Ginger!”
2:00 PM: Receive a frantic call from Yo-Yo Ma saying he has become too arrogant to perform and needs me to come down to deflate his ego.
2:15 PM: Traverse secret tube system used by famous people to travel to brothels and strip clubs without being seen. Wave to Tom Hanks as he heads to “Hoe’s R Us”.
2:23 PM: Arrive at Walt Disney Concert Hall. Shred the cello until I reduce Yo-Yo Ma to tears in awe of how he will never come close to being half as good as me. He considers himself successfully humbled enough to perform that evening.
3:00 PM: Meet up with Taylor Lautner to go visit his family at the Alpaca Farm.
3:30 PM: Play a match with Roger Federer over in Malibu. We get some beers afterwards and throw some darts. Rafael Nadal’s face is the bullseye, naturally. We have a great time.
5:00 PM: Smoke some weed with Miley Cyrus, Snoop Dogg, and Tom Cruise. Things get weird when Tom thinks Snoop is Katie Holmes and tries to make out with him. Miley and I politely extricate ourselves from this awkward social situation.
7:00 PM: Go to dinner and a concert with Celine Dion and Cher. We heckle the shit out of Barbra Streisand, with Celine piping up that her nose looked like it belonged on Mt. Rushmore. We got thrown out of the concert, but we don’t care cause we’re divas.
8:04 PM: Secret handshake with Celine and Cher as we part ways.
9:00 PM: Attend plastic surgery consultation with Kim Kardashian so they can verify that my measurements are correct so that she can get the right amount of bounce on her next round of cheek implants.
9:23 PM: Punch Kim Kardashian in the face.
10:00 PM: Go clubbing with Brad and Angelina
11:00 PM: Perform a perfectly choreographed re-enactement of “Jai Ho” with Brad and Angelina. All the brown people cheer.
12:00 AM: Go to afterparty at Gwenyth Paltrow’s house. You must have an Oscar statue in hand to enter, but I didn’t know which of my 27 to choose from, so I blew that joint.
1:00 AM: Go to after-afterparty at Richard Simmon’s house. Why? I don’t know, I just do.
2:00 AM: Go to after-after-afterparty back at the Ritz Carlton. Beyonce is riding a lion, and Jay-Z is riding an emu. The theme for the party was Dr. Doolittle, so I guess it was fortunate I was already on my unicorn by the time I got there.
3:00 AM: Close out the party and the night with a dramatic rendition of “Survivor” my Destiny’s Chilled, a Destiny’s Child cover group with Kelly Rowland, Michelle Williams, and Solange Knowles. Beyonce falls asleep in a large-backed chair petting a white cat while the lamp shades her facial features. Destiny’s Chilled looks terrified, but they do a great job.
REGULAR GLAMOROUS LIFE:
10:00 AM: Wake up.
10:15 AM: Wait around for my brother to come downstairs so he can make me scrambled eggs because I’m too lazy to do it myself.
11:00 AM: Read the paper for a reaaaaaaally long time.
11:30 AM: Wander around the house.
11:45 AM: Look busy.
12:30 PM: Go to the library and peruse their encyclopedias, magazine, and large print sections. Leave shortly after finding that the latest Mary Higgins Clark novel isn’t available yet.
1:30 PM: Work out, but not to the point of sweating. Wander around the gym a bit, using it as a time to get updated on Sports Center, as well as the latest gossip magazines.
2:00 PM: Feeding time. Anything in the fridge is fair game, even entire cheesecakes.
3:00 PM: Wander around the house.
4:00 PM: Get caught up on the 10-17 TV shows I couldn’t keep up with during the week.
5:00 PM: Complain about being hungry, but be mysteriously absent when dinner is being prepared.
6:00 PM: Feeding time again. There is also an unwritten rule that if you do not finish before me, whatever is left on your plate is fair game.
7:00 PM: Attempt to “conversate” with family unit.
8:00 PM: Mock the stupidity of people competing on “The Amazing Race”
9:00 PM: Decide between Game of Thrones, Mad Men, and The Good Wife based upon whichever has the most amount of nudity, witty reparte, and Jon Hamm.
10:00 PM: Bed time.
So you see, I’m not really that far off from my pretend glamorous life. Because at the end of the day, my life is pretty glamorous as long as Jon Hamm is a part of it.
This is the first in a weeklong homage to one of the greatest musicians of the modern era. Please don’t look for any other videos other than the ones I’ve posted, or else it will ruin the surprise.
Dear readers, sorry I have been MIA for so long. It is perfectly explainable, I swear! Recently, a friend of mine reintroduced me to one of my inspirations, and I have redevoted myself to the enjoyment of this person’s talents. There are only a few people (on the entire planet!!!) who know this person, which makes it even more special. However, I have decided it is time to share this person with the world. And by the world, I mean the 10 people who read this blog.
My inspiration is an exceedingly talented musician, nay!, artist, nay!, entertainer! That’s right, I’m talking about the timeless, the one-and-only, the indomitable: Jan Terri.
This week, I will devote one post a day in tribute to the legend, nay! the icon, that is Jan Terri. In the literally hundreds of seconds I spent scouring her severals of videos on the Youtube, I think I’ve been able to narrow her bevy of hits into what I am now referring as the Top 5 Greatest Jan Terri Videos Of All Time (TFGJTVOAT).
The first is her greatest hit, naturally. It is called ‘Losing You’, but should you ever play this while trying to woo someone into your bed, or impress with your sophisticated musical tastes, there will be no threat of you losing anything. Except maybe your pants and underwear simultaneously.
First off, leather needs to be featured in more music videos. Second, Chicago has never looked more beautiful than in this music video. Third, mullets are making a comeback! Fourth, there is nothing sexier than a woman with a voice, and Jan Terri knows it. Fifth, Michael Bay was the camera operator for this shoot, but he was only able to film 1.3 seconds of footage, so they had a stray cat film the rest. And the cat did a great job! Sixth, I need to stop and just let the video speak for itself, because my words don’t do it justice.
I have also written down the lyrics as I understood them, so don’t be shy about singing along!
I don’t wanna lose you tonight/You’re the only thing that matters
I don’t wanna lose you this way/Just need your love
I don’t wanna lose you tonight/You’re the only thing that matters
I don’t wanna lose you this way/Just need your love
Losing you will be the hardest thing to do/My heart is open like an open book, and yours is closed
I never thought it would be like this/So how do we move on?
Remember long walks, sandy beaches, all those swims together?/We were like a merry-go-round going around in circles
You said we’ll always be together/But you weren’t telling the truth
You were telling lies
Pick up the phone, give me a call, and talk to me
It shouldn’t have been like this/I can’t take it no more
CHORUS PART III
I don’t wanna lose you tonight
You’re the only thing that matters
I don’t blah blah blah blah
Just blah blah blah
Blah blah blah blah blah blah….
In honor of this week of love, I would like to share my feelings about an elderly woman I admire. In fact, the only older women I admire more than her are my grandmothers. That’s right, I’m talking about Dame Helen Mirren. However, as great as she is, I think there are some facets of her that go unrecognized. Yes, she’s utterly hilarious, and yes, she is one of the greatest actresses working today, but I’d like to highlight some of her best assets. Or rather, her breast assets.
Yes, I’m talking about the talent that is Helen Mirren’s Boobs. Here it goes…
1. Calendar Girls: Without question, their finest, most raw, most revealing performance. Literally.
2. Age of Consent: A light and airy performance in which they let everything hang out. Though they are now old and perky, this performance captures the time when they were young and perky.
3. Prime Suspect: Gritty police work and tenacity have nothing on a well-fitted bra and flattering lady blazer that helped define her iconic character, Jane Tennison. Showed that they were more than a pair of boobs.
4. The Queen: Regal boobs whose sheer authenticity and suppression of natural skill won themselves an Oscar. Established themselves as icons.
5. The Love Ranch: They played a madam. They were married to Joe Pesci. Helen Mirren’s Boobs: ain’t nothing to mess with.
6. Raising Helen: Fashionable, yet older, this performance put the work of Kate Hudson’s boobs to shame.
7. Excalibur: One of their more supple and pure performances, showing they could be alluring and menacing at the same time.
8. RED: A killer role. Literally, they killed men. It was very impressive.
9. National Treasure: Book of Secrets: Obviously done for the paycheck, but they performed in surprising harmony with Nicolas Cage’s toupee.
10. Shadowboxer: Decently exposed performance. Unfortunately overshadowed by the performance of Stephen Dorff’s half-chub. Seriously.
Overall, this body of work they have demonstrated throughout the years is quite impressive. In spite of that fact that I’m not really even into boobs, the fact that these ten performances were so memorable speaks to the talent that is Helen Mirren’s Boobs. Academy, are you listening?
During my weekend of walking around aimlessly, running errands, cringing at the worst broadcast of the Grammy’s in decades, and sitting through a glut of advertisements beating Valentine’s Day to a bloody pulp, I had a random assortment of musings that have absolutely no connection whatsoever. Typical
Are You There Grammy’s? It’s Me, Apathy
- The Grammy’s were terrible
- Apparently, the go-to hairstlye of 2012 is Bad Combover. Thank you, Justin Vernon of Bon Iver and Mr. Molesley from Downton Abbey for making balding the chic ‘do of the year.
- Adele’s music has been scientifically proven to induce sobbing, according to the Wall Street Journal. So really, she’s not some poor girl trying to get over a bad breakup; she’s a ruthless villain trying to destroy the world one heartbroken, slobbering mess at a time.
- I’ve watched more videos of Whitney Houston in the past few days than any white, upper-middle class male living at home has any right to. However, I’ve come to the conclusion my favorite Whitney is a toss up between “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” Whitney (a song my friends and I requested at our senior prom), and reality TV star Whitney. Yes, she was “The Voice of a Generation”, but clips like this show you she was really “The Comedic Voice of a Generation”.
- Words I have the misfortune of seeing in the future: Chris Brown, Grammy winner.
- Words I have the joy of writing without fear of libel: Chris Brown, convicted felon
And What Did You Do This Weekend?
- I recently got a library card, and while hanging out at the library on the weekends, have begun to wonder if this might be the catalyst my dating life needs to sputter out of reverse and into park. This weekend I saw the large print section overflowing with elderlies, the computers crowded with people muttering to themselves, and the DVD section being devoured by people fighting over the newest copy of Breaking Dawn. Of course, I stayed and scoped out the crowd. Nothing this week, but there’s nothing more productive to do on a three day weekend than troll the library.
- It was 75 degrees in Los Angeles this weekend.
- Our refrigerator hasn’t been working, which means that I’ve had the enviable task of eating all of the perishable food before it goes bad, and drinking all of the beer before it gets too warm. It’s been a rough week.
- I went on another date with my sister, this time to the mall. Horrifyingly, I had a great time.
Why Valentine’s Day Can Suck My Nuts
- I hate everyone who has someone special to spend Valentine’s Day with, during which they express their love and affection for each other. It’s disgusting. And yes, that includes you, Mom and Dad.
- I considered sending myself a box of chocolates at work to make it seem like someone loved me. Then I realized that would seem desperate, so I settled on an Edible Arrangements.
- If I see anyone, and I mean ANYONE, holding hands on, I will yell at them to get a room.
Things That Help, Thanks For Asking
- I will probably go see This Means War by myself today.
- If I don’t go see This Means War, I will rent Human Centipede, as I feel they both offer up the same sentiment, expressed slightly differently. Either way, Reese Witherspoon is in the middle.
- For lunch, I’m going to go to Applebee’s and order the 2 for $20 deal for myself. And I will finish both entrees.
- I received a card on Valentine’s Day from my grandparents with $10 inside. It totally made my day
I’ve lived in Los Angeles for going on 8 months, and it’s expected that I’ve come into contact with celebrities during my time here, because naturally most celebrities live in small cul-de-sac communities out in the suburbs, 90 minutes away from Hollywood. While I, like most everyone who lives here, have had some celebrity contact, it’s not exactly what you think…
You see, whenever I see a celebrity, I only see them from the back. I’ve never really seen a celebrity straight on, only from behind, and usually from far away. I don’t know if this is a common thing here, or if it’s just me, but I’m getting scarily good at identifying people from behind. And it’s not like the celebrities I see are really famous, they’re just kinda famous.
These occurrences all started when I came home for Thanksgiving from school because I had mono (long story…). I got off the plane and I was walking to baggage claim, I noticed I was walking behind Jennifer Garner. She was very short, and had brown hair, and was nondescript but for the back of her head. It looked distinctly like the back of Sydney Bristow’s head, (Secret Agent (and Overt Badass) from Alias), that I decided it MUST be The Back of Jennifer Garner. The back of her head also looked like the back of Elektra’s head, so that’s what really gave it away. As she was whisked away in a tinted limousine by her big burly security team into the welcoming arms of The Back of Ben Affleck, I basked in the glory of my first celebrity encounter. And you can never tell me otherwise.
Another such encounter I had was at a club in Hollywood when my friend Ross was visiting. We were hanging out in this super fancy club with loud music and really beautiful people (I guess that’s a thing down here), when the crowd parted and I saw something I knew I had seen many times before, but couldn’t place my finger on it. Then it hit me. That big, black head I noticed was attached to a tall, black man, that I was SURE was Cedric Yarborough. If you don’t know him, he’s the black cop from Reno 911!. Anyways, to make a long story short, I was in fan heaven, so I made Ross’ girlfriend take a picture of me with The Back of Cedric Yarborough. It was a great night.
Of course, my celebrity encounters were not just limited to these two. I’ve had plenty of other encounters with the backs of celebrities as well:
- Paul Walker (The Fast and the Furious) – walking across the crosswalk at the Burbank Airport. He was wearing sneakers and a backpack. He was really cool!
- Brad Garret (Everybody Loves Raymond)- shopping at Barnes & Noble with his children. The back of him is as tall as it looks on screen!
- Kim Richards (Escape To Witch Mountain)- making out with her boyfriend outside of a movie theater. She had a really nice ponytail, so she must be really nice as well!
- Leann Rimes (Adultery)- sitting at a booth behind me with her adulterer, Eddie Cibrian. She was wearing a fedora. I like Leann Rimes in fedoras, she should wear them more often!
Now, there was one time that I have seen a celebrity full on, in all their glory. One of my most favorite actors of all time works out at the same gym as I do. Yes, that’s right! I have seen Cole Hauser!!!!!!!
For those of you poor souls who don’t know Cole Hauser is (like that’s even possible!), you might know him better from his formidable resume:
Good Will Hunting – Billy McBride
The Hit List – Allan Campbell
The Cave – Jack McAllister
Pitch Black – William Johns
2 Fast 2 Furious – Carter Verone
Paparazzi – Bo Laramie
So, while I have only had the fortune of seeing the face of one “celebrity” so far, I look forward to seeing what the future holds for me. Maybe one day I can graduate from seeing the fat doppleganger of Steven Spielberg to seeing his hand, or his shoes, or even the back of his hat. I don’t ask for much, because I don’t need much to get excited.
In honor of MLK Day and the most recent roasting of her on the Golden Globes (toally related), I offer this piece up for your mastication. Just call it an ode to all things odious…
Living in Los Angeles, you get celebrity updates from all sorts of news outlets, more so than you would anywhere else in America. And of course, since the blowout wedding and subsequent fairytale divorce, there has been no lack of fodder when it comes to the Kardashian klan, specifically Kim.
While most of the articles written about her have been justifiably negative (and the treatment of her (ex)husband, Mutant Taylor Lautner, even worse), there is one side of her that the tabloids, mainstream media, and Barbra Walters have all missed: gay rights activist.
It’s no secret that Kim Kardashian is gay friendly, as can be seen by her asexual best-friend-who-just-hasn’t-found-the-right-woman-yet, Jonathan . However, no one knew just how gay friendly ol’ Kimmy was until she single-handedly obliterated the ‘sanctity of marriage’ argument through her wedding of a lifetime to Mutant Taylor Lautner.
(As an aside, I would like to explain why I am referring to Kris Humphries as ‘Mutant Taylor Lautner’. Here’s why:)
(As a tangent of this aside, it would also be possible to refer to Taylor Lautner as ‘Mutant Alpaca’. Here’s why:)
For years, millions of Americans have argued the pros and cons of gay marriage, and have reached a stalemate. Opponents have resoundly defended that marriage is a sacred act between a man and a woman. Supporters have forcefully argued that marriage should be about love, regardless of gender. Kim Kardashian just took a giant shit on those who oppose gay marriage (and those who support any sort of long term committment in general. Like dieting) It’s really quite impressive that something billed as the American ‘Wedding of the Century’ could turn out to be the biggest P.R. stunt in support of gay marriage. Only Kim Kardashian could take the earnest belief in true love that red-blooded Americans felt while watching her wedding ceremony in a four-hour-two-night special on E!, and crush it between her extremely taut buttcheeks.
There is no argument against gay marriage anymore. Sanctity of marriage? More like sanctity of fulfilling contractual obligations with a television network. If you ever find yourself in an argument about gay marriage, all you have to do is say ‘Kim Kardashian’, and the argument is won. Maybe someday in the future, there will be a challenge to this ‘Wedding of the Century’ with a ‘Gay Wedding of the Century’, which is exactly the same as Kim’s except that there’s 7 fewer crystals.
So going forward, I ask that your opinions of ol’ Kimmy be tempered in light of this new perspective. History books will be rewritten to put Kim Kardashian in a revered place alongside Martin Luther King, Jr. and Susan B. Anthony as a true pioneer for human rights. I look forward to the day when my kids come home to me and say, “Dad, I have to right a report of gay rights activist Kim Kardashian.” I also look forward to taking my kids to her fabulously leopard-printed and diamond-encrusted grave at Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum and paying homage to such a brave and fearless trailblazer.
Love ya, babe.
This is part of a series of How To Guides about living on your own, in a new city, and/or with your parents. Growing up is never hard to do, but it can be funny when you make a lot of mistakes, and force yourself to do things most people find shameful. This is for your own erudition.
Living at home is phenomenal. Nothing beats hanging out with your parents, eating home-cooked meals you didn’t have to make, getting your laundry done, premium cable (!!!!). However, one of the things you first notice missing is your social life. Living in the suburbs (where your parents probably live, if they haven’t already gone off the grid) is not conducive to a vibrant social scene, unless you’re into antiquing or socializing at the grocery store. Then by all means, go crazy! But me, I need some time with people that either a) didn’t have a direct hand in my existence and b) are under the age of 65. I’m pretty easy.
For this reason, I like to go see movies. Unlike most normal 20-somethings, I don’t usually have someone to go with. Or I don’t want to take my 13 year old brother to see ‘The Kids Are Alright’. So what do I do? I go see the movie, by myself. The following are the steps you need to follow in order to get through seeing a movie by yourself without taking a ride on what I like to call the Shame Cycle.
This is the first and most important part. Sharks and movie tellers are the only two known species that can smell fear on a person. Second grade teachers have been rumored to have this ability, but there has been no empirical evidence to confirm the hypothesis. Anyways, you need to walk up to the teller and say, in a loud clear voice, “ONE FOR TOY STORY 3, PLEASE.” If they ask you if you’re meeting anyone, run. They’ve already caught onto you and you’re dead in the water. If not, you’ve passed the first test. All that’s left is to get past the ticket taker, and often times they’re asleep, so it ain’t no thang.
Alternative: Instead of buying a ticket in person, you can also buy one online. However, this means you have planned to see a movie by yourself ahead of time, and if this is the case, you’ve got some deeper issue to work on, buddy.
2. Movie Selection
This is a very important part as well. Pick a “Schindler’s List”, you’ll be crying for hours with no one to comfort you. Pick a “Spy Kids”, you’ll be getting suspicious stares from parents and children alike. Pick a “Notebook”, you’re bound to be alone forever. Pick a “Fool’s Gold” and you might actually go into the world’s first stupidity coma. The point is, selection is key. Not too sad, not too happy, not too many families, not too many friends, not too much action, and just the right amount of Bruce Willis. You don’t want to be reminded you’re all by yourself, but you also don’t want to forget that movie stars need to pay their bills too.
Once you’ve gotten past the vicious hoardes, seating is very important. Just like a school cafeteria, where you seat in a theater will slap you with a label that will remain with you the rest of your life. Wait, that’s not right… but for the sake of the argument, I present some master-theater-goer archetypes.
Tracy Flick: You’re showing that you’re overeager and don’t want to see people’s faces when they see you’re alone. This is for the weak-hearted and the strong-necked
Jennifer Grey: This position is naturally back in the corner. Don’t fall subject to your inner Jennifer Grey. There may be a Patrick Swayze to come and rescue you, but mullets take a long time to get perfect, so don’t hold your breath.
Jake Gylenhaal: This is what happens when you arrive late to slip in unnoticed, but all the seats are taken, so you have to sit in the middle. Just like Jake Gylenhaal did in Brokeback Mountain. Which is not a good movie to see by yourself.
Steven Segal: This is the position of the seasoned veteran. You don’t flinch at your solitude, you relish in it and sit in the very middle. You don’t care that your ponytail looks stupid, by god you’re going to see the movie and you’re going to enjoy yourself!
4. The Escape
As important as all the other steps were, this last one is just as important. Stay too long, you’ll get called out for being a lingerer, and god forbid, get roped into a conversation to discuss the movie (ewwww). Leave to early, and you run into getting judged by the attendant who is wondering why you’re leaving so early BY YOURSELF. Timing is essential, just like in throwing a hand grenade. Both have equally grave consequences.
Hopefully, if you should every find yourself standing in front of a theater pondering seeing a movie by yourself, remember these 4 important parts, and you should be fine. If not, you could always just Netflix it.
On New Year’s Eve, I went to a Pink Martini concert at the Walt Disney Concert Hall in downtown Los Angeles. It was an absolute blast, and never having heard any of Pink Martini’s music nor been to the concert hall before, it was definitely a night to remember. The hall is absolutely beautiful, and its exterior amazement is matched only by its interior grace. The concert itself was a raucous occasion full of surprise guests and even an accompanying marching band. It was certainly a memorable experience, and a wonderful date night with my sister. Yes, my sister.
Going on a date with your opposite-sex sibling is a rite of passage that every man must face at some point. It just makes it all that much harder when your sister is a six foot tall blonde, leggy beauty and you look just like her except without the long flowing golden locks and the boobs. Not fun. It’s also all the more awkward when you’re both single in a new city and do a lot of things together, like have a fancy evening at the Walt Disney Concert Hall.
Now don’t get me wrong, I love my sister and love hanging out with her, it’s just very uncomfortable when you’re sitting in a restaurant in your fancy clothing and you realize every other couple in the room is boning each other.
Seeing as I have absolutely no shame though, I look forward to going on future dates with my sister. Yes, I said it. It will be great fun going to bars and clubs with her, watching as heads turn and records scratch. Her, in a sea of gentleman suitors, and me sitting alone at the bar. Or maybe instead we’ll have a picnic at the Hollywood Bowl. Or maybe we’ll go on a shopping spree in Santa Monica. Whichever we choose , it’ll be highly romantic, and everyone will be thinking, “Wow, she really lucked out in the genes department.” Because if nothing else, I’m a good brother, and a good brother knows how to be a good wingman. A good brother also knows to consume more alcohol than said sister so that she has to drive home. And I am a VERY good brother.
I’m sick and tired of hearing and reading about people’s New Year’s Resolutions. They’re usually unrealistic, mostly unattainable, and always boring. If it’s not “Lose weight”, it’s stupid things like “Be a better father”, “Be more cultured”, or “Stop wetting the bed”. I mean, there’s no honesty or lowered expectations anymore. No realism. That’s why I’ve decided to share MY New Year’s Resolutions. Hopefully they will inspire others to have more realistic goals.
1. Fart in public more often
This really is one of society’s best kept secrets. It’s like the perfect crime for bodily functions. Imagine you’re in a store, or on the subway, or in a movie theater, and you feel the pressure building. Normally, most people would be polite and hold out until in private or in the bathroom. But if you think about it, there’s no better place to let one rip. It is already noisy, people are busy doing other things, and no one’s going to be rude enough to single someone out. Moreover, it would even give you an opportunity to work on your acting skills, dramatically making a stink face and showing to everyone that you smell something awful, and it was most DEFINTELY not you who dealt it. Or you could remain silent. Like I said, either way, it’s the perfect crime. One I will be committing with abandon this year.
2. Drink more
Like most people, I’m a lot more fun when I’ve had 2 or 12 drinks. I’m more sociable, funnier, and all-around more pleasant to be around. Such is the case, why not be like that every day this year? I’m not advocating taking up recreational alcoholism, I’m just saying that I’m more inclined to drink when the opportunity presents itself. 2012 seems a great time to create those opportunities myself.
3. Spend more quality time with my Netflix account
I have a confession: I’ve let work and family get in the way of my Netflix watching. Grievously, my queue is now 118 titles deep, and I know it’s time to make a change. I resolve to hole myself up in my room and rededicate myself to the consumption of TV shows and movies. Besides, now that I live in Los Angeles, the social currency is knowledge of popular culture, so this is unquestionably justifiable.
4. Think more about me
Too long have I tried helping other people by considering volunteering and feeling guilty about not donating to the Cute-Young-Children-with-Horrific-Forms-of-Cancer Foundation. This year, it’s all about me. I’ve been disconcerted about not getting the attention I deserve, so I’m going to give myself that attention myself. And we’re going to be excessively happy about it, thank us very much.
5. Go on more dates
The best thing about going on dates is making the other person pay. This leads to a free meal. More dates means more free meals. The best part is when you get up to use the bathroom right before the bill comes, you come back, and they’ve politely taken care of it! And if things start to get too real (i.e. a second date), it’s easy to say you’re too busy, or you moved out of town, or my personal favorite, you’ve decided to become a priest.
6. Stop tipping baristas
I mean, really, what do they do that warrants a tip? Really!? They make my drink like they’re supposed to, and often times they don’t do it fast enough. I have nothing against baristas, just the societal norms that mandate a tip. Besides, they’re smug and pretentious with those punny “tip jars”. Please, you’re not fooling anyone.
7. Get liposuction
Year after year, I rededicate myself to fitness by working out, running, and generally not trying to be a fat ass. I’ve recently discovered that this is a dumb way to go about doing things. Thankfully, living in California has shed light on a better path: Liposuction. Once I save enough thousands of dollars, I can just get all the fat sucked right out, and not have to worry about it for another few years. I’m certain that’s how it works…
8. Become more of a hipster
Say what snide jokes you want about hipsters, they are pretty cool. I like their sense of style and devil-may-care attitude. They’re also unabashedly arrogant, and I’m unabashedly arrogant, so I feel like it’s a natural fit. Also, I look phenomenal in flannel.
9. Stop apologizing
I’m fed up with apologizing to people for perceived affronts. “Oops, sorry I crossed your path 10 feet in front of you” or “My bad for talking on the phone in public”. I’ve turned into too much of a softy, and it’s time to let people assume I’m sorry. I mean, honestly, if you have a problem with what I do, then you don’t have to be around me. If you’re a family member, just suck it up.
10. Make more jokes
11. Say nice things about people (see above)
12. Prepare a bomb shelter
2012. Mayan Calendar. Ragnarok. No-brainer.
From Los Angeles,
My name is Ben Gullickson. I recently graduated from college, and like so many of my peers, I went on to move home with my parents. Long ago I learned to live with the crippling shame of being a tall, nerdy white boy, so moving in with my parents was a natural next step. In fact, I learned to surpress the societal shame I was experiencing, and actually enjoy my time at home. However, sometime during the period of time where I was sharing a bedroom with my 13 year old brother, carpooling into work with my father, and spending Friday nights hanging out with my parents, I discovered my life was a living hell. I of course do not mention that my laundry was taken care of, food was prepared, and alcohol and cable services were provided, as this is negligible. Naturally, growing up in the internet generation, I decided to write a blog about my tribulations.
Ok, I’ll cut the crap. In all honesty, this blog is merely a ploy to crack my friends up as I and some of my fellow peers (and one elder stateswoman who happens to be my mother) chronicle our lives and adventures after leaving the bubble of college. Most of us have moved home, most of us are in a new city, and all of us have no idea what the hell we’re doing. This is a venue to air our grievances, as well as provide fodder on our misadventures, and, at times, embarrassing mistakes. It is my hope that over time, this site will provide something for everyone: humor, adventure, baked goods, music suggestions, murder plots, etc. However, I have been known to have unrealistic expectations. Overall, the tone will be sarcastic and biting, but you might be surprised to find (at times) some real human emotions permeating throughout the site. We apologize in advance for this.
So, please enjoy what we have to say, and how we say it. Whether you return to this site for sincere enjoyment, morbid curiosity, or mocking interest, we hope that we provide bountiful entertainment.
Your Los Angeles Correspondent,