Sunday, October 14, 2012
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Shirtless pics of Joel McHale
I get up early on the weekends. Coffee, cigarettes. Googling my way through the webisphere. Shirtless pics of Joel McHale? Yes please. Free Kittens on Craigslist, Hypomania, will walgreens deliver me things, best wireless blutooth headset.....
Today at 6:34 it rains as the sun comes up very slowly. Thinking about how I should stay far away from any election coverage because it causes me unnecessary depression and ultimately means nothing. Something about how Joe Biden really knocked Paul Ryan on his ass- doesn't mean anything to me. I mean it does, it does too much and that's why I can't watch.
Paul Ryan reminds me of a pervy tech guy. Nothing against tech guys... or pervy guys for that matter. He just reminds me of one of those single guys with no date at your table, divorced, talks to you a little too long, borrows a cigarette, borrows another one, says he doesn't smoke as he smokes, you see him again in the bathroom, "Hey man." You think him antisocial, but then see him on the dancefloor an hour later doing the Chicken Dance as you sit at your table, now alone. Who's antisocial now? More of a go-getter than you thought.
And Barack, and Joe, and Romney and their wives and relatives are all now caricatures. Only a handful of years away from their own reality TV shows. "Just Malia!" "Ann Romney- My Turn." Interviews with Oprah, ending in an overenthusiastic high five.
I love pop culture, I love all my tv channels, all the ridiculous shows- candy everyone wants. But how does Jeremy get back to nature?
My "safe place," that imaginary calm place you return to in your mind as you fall asleep, is me in the middle of the ocean on a raft- miles away from anything. Laying on my back- floating away from everything and everywhere. No shore in sight. Just me and the water and the depth below, miles and miles down. Away from Melissa Rivers, away from Sandra Lee's Semi Homemade, away from work, Angry Birds, Facebook, Grindr, Sallie Mae's calls. Away from Target, amateur porn, the CTA, Walgreens pharmacy, Starbucks' filled with lonely gay men.
Just me on a raft floating into the unknown. I'll hit shore again, turn on my cellphone and put on my Kenneth Cole shirt and Perry Ellis pants and Zappos dress boots.
Today at 6:34 it rains as the sun comes up very slowly. Thinking about how I should stay far away from any election coverage because it causes me unnecessary depression and ultimately means nothing. Something about how Joe Biden really knocked Paul Ryan on his ass- doesn't mean anything to me. I mean it does, it does too much and that's why I can't watch.
Paul Ryan reminds me of a pervy tech guy. Nothing against tech guys... or pervy guys for that matter. He just reminds me of one of those single guys with no date at your table, divorced, talks to you a little too long, borrows a cigarette, borrows another one, says he doesn't smoke as he smokes, you see him again in the bathroom, "Hey man." You think him antisocial, but then see him on the dancefloor an hour later doing the Chicken Dance as you sit at your table, now alone. Who's antisocial now? More of a go-getter than you thought.
And Barack, and Joe, and Romney and their wives and relatives are all now caricatures. Only a handful of years away from their own reality TV shows. "Just Malia!" "Ann Romney- My Turn." Interviews with Oprah, ending in an overenthusiastic high five.
I love pop culture, I love all my tv channels, all the ridiculous shows- candy everyone wants. But how does Jeremy get back to nature?
My "safe place," that imaginary calm place you return to in your mind as you fall asleep, is me in the middle of the ocean on a raft- miles away from anything. Laying on my back- floating away from everything and everywhere. No shore in sight. Just me and the water and the depth below, miles and miles down. Away from Melissa Rivers, away from Sandra Lee's Semi Homemade, away from work, Angry Birds, Facebook, Grindr, Sallie Mae's calls. Away from Target, amateur porn, the CTA, Walgreens pharmacy, Starbucks' filled with lonely gay men.
Just me on a raft floating into the unknown. I'll hit shore again, turn on my cellphone and put on my Kenneth Cole shirt and Perry Ellis pants and Zappos dress boots.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Naked on the streets of San Diego
For ten years I have been looking for Chicago's best pizza. Turns out it's a little place called Dominos. I am so sick of cardboard crusts, weird sauce, deep dish diarrhea inducing messes and artisan cheese over an open flame bullshit. Just give me the classic, birthday party pizza. I enjoy Dominos' "Brooklyn Crust" option. More of a New York style pizza, hence the name. I have been to New York twice so I am pretty familiar with their Pizza.
The last time I ordered Dominos, however it came stone cold. I hopped online and read Dominos the riot act. And they put a credit on my tab. I went ahead and reordered the same thing the next night. Having spent all my money on Halloween decorations, a free pizza came in super handy. However, on the phone they told me that there would be a $2.97 delivery fee. Excuse me? Who has $2.97 just laying around? I am not Bill Gates! Jesus Christ!
So, I scrounged around and came up with a dollar and assorted change that I told myself would present itself roughly as "$2.97 and a small tip." I handed my offering to the pizza boy ( who was decidedly less attractive than would have hoped). He gave me a very dissapointed but not uncourteous, "thanks....have a good night..." I didn't give a crap I got my pizza. In my socks and pajamas, I hurried back to Oprah interviewing Jason Russell the "Kony 2012" guy. BTW- I have no sympathy for this guy. I have the explanation to the mystery surrounding his breakdown. He is gay! And you know my unofficial policy- "Gay until proven straight." But this guy is gay as "A Star is Born" is long. He is gay and he was smoking meth and very stressed out- THIS is why he was walking around the streets naked and masturbating in the streets of San Diego. Trust me, I have been there. If you don't believe me - watch "Oprah's Next Chapter." Dear reader, I am certain you will agree.
The next day I find myself at the corner of Clark and Jewel Osco. Waiting for that gosh darn Clark bus (full of crazys) to pick me up. Lighting up my second Camel Light 99 I noticed a chubby guy in a Dominos ski cap and a very old woman staggering along the sidewalk. Of course, it's the pizza boy and his very old grandmother coming for revenge. I knew my poor tipping would come back to haunt me. As they hobbled closer I became less sure of the fact that it was my pizza boy. In fact, I think I think this guy was just homeless. The two of them making their way through the rush hour hustle and bustle in Andersonville.
"Uh...excuse me..could I get a cigarette..." I felt like the priviliged Mother Teresa of cigarettes drunk with power. He walked over to me as I deemed whether or not he was worthy of my precious Camel Light 99. As I pulled out my very generous supply of cigarettes the old woman said craggily, "Could I also have a cigarette?" I pulled one out for her too. "I have had...just had...breast cancer surgery...could I have..." I gave her a cigarette and smiled. "OH THANK HEAVEN! THANK HEAVEN," exclaimed the lady. Exactly the reaction I would have had - had I been in this woman's position. I made this lady's evening with an ironically carcinogenic gift.
The two continued on and found their way to a pair of benches to enjoy their Camel Light 99's. My generous gift. Did she just have breast cancer surgery? Were they both just coming from the hospital? Or was this her shpeel- maybe she HAD breast cancer surgery and this was part of her "special skills" portion on her panhandling resume. *Had Breast Cancer Surgery *Was evicted from low income housing...Anyway you slice this sad pizza, I believe this lady was going through sheer HELL in the last days of her life.
I thought about running after them and offering them all my cigarettes and everything I had previously purchased at Walgreens- A bag of Fritos Scoops, A 2 liter bottle of Pepsi Next, a box of Immodium, a supersize bag of cough drops, a bag of Gevalia French Roast coffee (on sale!), my prescription for Lexapro... It would be like a "Jeremy's Favorite Things" episode. "You get Immodium and you get Immodium...IMMODIUM! YOU ARE GETTING IMMODIUM!!!!"
But I did not. They got up from their benches, both with unfinished Camel Light 99's smoking in the autumnal night air and carried on their way South. I went home and fast forwarded my way through last Saturday's SNL, lamenting the loss of Kristen Wiig.
The last time I ordered Dominos, however it came stone cold. I hopped online and read Dominos the riot act. And they put a credit on my tab. I went ahead and reordered the same thing the next night. Having spent all my money on Halloween decorations, a free pizza came in super handy. However, on the phone they told me that there would be a $2.97 delivery fee. Excuse me? Who has $2.97 just laying around? I am not Bill Gates! Jesus Christ!
So, I scrounged around and came up with a dollar and assorted change that I told myself would present itself roughly as "$2.97 and a small tip." I handed my offering to the pizza boy ( who was decidedly less attractive than would have hoped). He gave me a very dissapointed but not uncourteous, "thanks....have a good night..." I didn't give a crap I got my pizza. In my socks and pajamas, I hurried back to Oprah interviewing Jason Russell the "Kony 2012" guy. BTW- I have no sympathy for this guy. I have the explanation to the mystery surrounding his breakdown. He is gay! And you know my unofficial policy- "Gay until proven straight." But this guy is gay as "A Star is Born" is long. He is gay and he was smoking meth and very stressed out- THIS is why he was walking around the streets naked and masturbating in the streets of San Diego. Trust me, I have been there. If you don't believe me - watch "Oprah's Next Chapter." Dear reader, I am certain you will agree.
The next day I find myself at the corner of Clark and Jewel Osco. Waiting for that gosh darn Clark bus (full of crazys) to pick me up. Lighting up my second Camel Light 99 I noticed a chubby guy in a Dominos ski cap and a very old woman staggering along the sidewalk. Of course, it's the pizza boy and his very old grandmother coming for revenge. I knew my poor tipping would come back to haunt me. As they hobbled closer I became less sure of the fact that it was my pizza boy. In fact, I think I think this guy was just homeless. The two of them making their way through the rush hour hustle and bustle in Andersonville.
"Uh...excuse me..could I get a cigarette..." I felt like the priviliged Mother Teresa of cigarettes drunk with power. He walked over to me as I deemed whether or not he was worthy of my precious Camel Light 99. As I pulled out my very generous supply of cigarettes the old woman said craggily, "Could I also have a cigarette?" I pulled one out for her too. "I have had...just had...breast cancer surgery...could I have..." I gave her a cigarette and smiled. "OH THANK HEAVEN! THANK HEAVEN," exclaimed the lady. Exactly the reaction I would have had - had I been in this woman's position. I made this lady's evening with an ironically carcinogenic gift.
The two continued on and found their way to a pair of benches to enjoy their Camel Light 99's. My generous gift. Did she just have breast cancer surgery? Were they both just coming from the hospital? Or was this her shpeel- maybe she HAD breast cancer surgery and this was part of her "special skills" portion on her panhandling resume. *Had Breast Cancer Surgery *Was evicted from low income housing...Anyway you slice this sad pizza, I believe this lady was going through sheer HELL in the last days of her life.
I thought about running after them and offering them all my cigarettes and everything I had previously purchased at Walgreens- A bag of Fritos Scoops, A 2 liter bottle of Pepsi Next, a box of Immodium, a supersize bag of cough drops, a bag of Gevalia French Roast coffee (on sale!), my prescription for Lexapro... It would be like a "Jeremy's Favorite Things" episode. "You get Immodium and you get Immodium...IMMODIUM! YOU ARE GETTING IMMODIUM!!!!"
But I did not. They got up from their benches, both with unfinished Camel Light 99's smoking in the autumnal night air and carried on their way South. I went home and fast forwarded my way through last Saturday's SNL, lamenting the loss of Kristen Wiig.
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