Erin Go Bragh

Greetings Sports Fans, 

I just viewed Michael Clayton, which I enjoyed very much.  There were three actors nominated for Oscars in it.  Tilda Swinton (supporting), for the big corporation's chief counsel.  Tom Wilkinson (supporting), the batshit attorney. And finally George Clooney, the protagonist And of the three of them, Swinton won.  I'm not sure why.  I mean Clooney was Clooney so that's not hard to figure out.  But Swinton was on the screen for not a very long time and didn't blow me away.  

What I did enjoy was the feel of the movie and the pace.  And the credits.  Now mostly the credits are where I jump up and eject the Netflix disc, or try and get busy with the girl I've been plotting to make out with since the beginning of the movie.  But in this case, the credits end with him (Clooney) taking a cab ride through midtown during the day.  There is something cool about watching him just sitting there, the camera focused on a guy in the backseat that seemed to be a good place for the movie to end.  

You know how at the end of the roller coaster there's that long stretch where the air brakes come on and you get to yell at each other "Awesome!" or "Let's go again!" or "Mrs. Hansen, Tommy got stung by a bee and dropped his Epi-pen on that last loop."  I think that part of the ride is like the credits in a powerful movie.  They allow you to sit there and take it in, before getting up and getting back to reality.  And I liked the way the director here chose to do it.  Well played.  

Calling all teachers....

First I wanted to point out a new documentary called Rubber Room. When NYC teachers are accused of something they are relieved of their teaching duties and forced to sit in a room until the department charges pending them are founded or not. This can take weeks, months, in some cases over a year. So there are full grown teachers who sit in a room and do nothing.

I understand this though. When I was a cop, if someone made an allegation against me, I was placed on modified duty, which means you get your gun taken from you while they check it out. It never happened to me, but I knew guys that would get into fights with their wives/girlfriends/baby mommas and the women would make an allegation. Usually the cops would work in the courts. They handle some of the intake pre-arraignment, before Corrections takes over. But they got to do work and get a check until the investigation was complete.

The schools have nothing else for these teachers to do, so they make them sit in a room. What seems absurd makes sense. You should pay them because the charges haven't been proven, but you don't want to see the headlines if you pay them to sit at home. Maybe they could make Department of Ed sweatshirts or something. At any rate, the trailer for the documentary is here.

And finally in this category, lemme pose a question to all of you.

You're chaperoning a high school field trip to Italy for Model UN. The night before you are supposed to all fly home one of the girls loses her passport in a taxi. Do you:

A) Call the Superintendant or Principal and be guided by his or her instructions?

B) Use the photocopy of the passport to get the student onto the plane?

C) Stay behind while it gets sorted out while the other chaperone takes the rest of the kids home?

D) Shove some foreign currency in the girl's hand, point her in the direction of the consulate, and get on the plane with the other kids and the other chaperone, leaving her to fend for herself?

If you answered D, you must work at the Wachusett Regional High School.

I love this place.

Congrats to the new parents

Kieran Patel is a week old. So this is a little late. But I've been sick, so lighten up.

I'm tired of awful movies

So I drove back from MD today and I'm quite tired. So for mindless entertainment, I popped in a movie from my Netflix queue. Next, with Nick Cage and Julianne Moore. This movie is heavy on the mindless part and really short on entertainment.

Oh, and for as awful as Cage is as usual, Moore is 10 times worse. Like turd sandwich bad. Like my eyes and ears are bleeding bad. I should eat this DVD so that no one needs to go through this pain.

That's really all. My friend Chuck told me not to watch this movie. I'm sorry Chuck. I should have listened.

Wait....this seriously got worse. A lot worse. How does a crappy movie have a worse ending? I wouldn't even eat this DVD. It's not fair to my stomach.

Maryland or Bust!

Hey folks,

I'm off to Maryland for a week of intensive training by FEMA. No doubt that we will find Osama when I return. I'm up for it. So I might be blogging about the excitement of Maryland, and hopefully the weather will work out.

A few shout-outs this Saturday:

First to Mike Fitzgerald, or Fitzy. He's my brother's friend and by extension my friend. He is a big fan of this blog and it seems only fair to say hello and thank him for continuing to read this blog. He's hot and a fine man. And he cries when he laughs.

Next, a big 2-8 congratulations to Nate Mole, formerly Officer Mole. Soon to be Sergeant Mole. I never thought it would happen, but I'm very happy for him. May God have mercy on the City of New York.

Waka has the Campys

I love this kid....

There's a hole in my pants

And it's not where you think it is. I know. I was as shocked as you were. It's on my knee. And when I say pants, I mean plural. Like I have this same problem on about 4 or 5 pairs of slacks, which is kind of a bummer as they're fine apart from that. Oh, it looks like this.
That is my sexy knee right there. So I have a hypothesis as to how this happens. When I drive, which is every day 50 miles round trip, I have an automatic. As such, my left leg has very little to do. So I seem to bend it and the crease tends to be right where these holes are popping up. What's that you say? A close up of my pasty knee? Okay...I can do that.
So I need to go pants shopping. Any suggestions on more durable pants? This stuff really only happens to me.

Oh, and for my friends and family in PA. Your state just became the most awesome place to live.

This blog is even worse on video

So my friend Tory made an insightful comment that the only food you eat that actually comes from the area between the asshole and the testicles is in sausage. So what did I have last night? You got it. I made a very small movie, which is not very good. And it's brevity betrays the fact that it took forever to put together. I now have complete appreciation for Waka and his Lunchbox. So here is my first attempt at showing you my dinner. I think this might be an occasional feature here.


Oh, and it's super early. But this is what time you need to get up to be in Springfield by 7. I tell you, the state gets my dedication for a bargain.

Being an adult isn't cheap

So tonight I was watching Asteroid on the Sci-Fi Channel and I also caught Jon Stewart's monologue from the Oscars. Both TV events were equally ridiculous. Asteroid as it centered around FEMA's response to an asteroid, which makes me laugh as I deal with FEMA all the time. And the FEMA I deal with is much more like this. Note: This is an actual document. I have a copy sitting above my computer.

And I'm tired of the Oscars. I think it's more tiring given the writer's strike. People, especially E!, were terrified that perhaps there could be a year without glitz and glamour. A.O. Scott has a decent article about a similar take. So bored with that, I decided to go grocery shopping, given that most of Cambridge would be glued to the TV.

I hit up the Shaw's and found plenty of spots, which is good because usually the Porter Square Shopping Center looks like the fall of Saigon. I've been trying to eat better. That is to say, not just buying lunch meats and beer, but trying for dinner and some sort of breakfast as well. And that apparently costs money. $102 to be precise. Olive oil was 12 bucks. Are you serious? I've also taken to looking at the calories on everything, which makes me feel like an idiot as I'm holding two different loaves of bread and staring at them.

And what the hell is up with jam? I was running out of strawberry jam for my PB&J. Because as we all know those who eat grape jelly want the terrorists to win. And I'm standing in front of a row of jars for like 5 minutes trying to figure out what the difference between Jam, Jelly, Preserves and Spreadable Fruit are. Are you fucking serious? I wanted to yell at the aisle, "Which one of you goes with the peanut butter and tastes delicious?" Because I'm sure that one of them causes cancer and I totally shouldn't buy. Cooking Light has the breakdown.
So it appears the only ones I don't want are fruit spread and possibly preserves. I settled on Jelly, though Jam looks to be the better choice.

I hate being an adult. I have no idea what kind of meat to buy unless it's sweet sausages or maybe chicken breasts. I bought a steak tonight which is probably the part of the cow that's between it's asshole and it's balls, but I have no idea as they don't say that. The package says "Flank" or "Ribeye." It never says "Taint of Cow" or "Worst piece of meat on animal." That's what I need. A grocery store for dummies. Not dummies who buy Goober Grape, those people should be rendered to Kazakhstan. I mean a place that asks you if you're really going to eat all those bananas before you buy them, or are they just going to turn brown in your fruit bowl of death. Or ask you if you have a pan that can cook that lasagna before you bring it home. That kind of store.

That's all. I now have to eat a lot, before a leave in a week for work.

Your Batshit Video of the Day

While this is really for my friend who grew up in Missouri among people like the girl in this video, it can be enjoyed by all.

No matter what your feelings on the abortion debate, you have to admit that this is awesome.

For the real comedy, please click here to read the comments on Fark. God bless a country that has people like this and then has other people funny enough to write about it.

Your help is needed

So today via FedEx I got a package from my college. It wasn't a lawsuit for dorm damage. It was a photograph. I agreed to appear in the college's Report of Gifts and I went down there and they took an hour's worth of photos.

Hands in pockets, hands out.
Hat on, hat off
Arms at sides, arms crossed.
Smiling, not smiling
Pants up, pants down.

Well, all but the last one. And we finally went with hands in, hat on, arms crossed, smiling. And so the publication went out to all the alums and I'm in there with people that actually give money. One lady actually gave enough to light on of the athletic fields. Not sure how much that cost, but probably more than $45 a month, which is what yours truly gives.

So they just sent me a photo thanking me. And here is the question? What the hell do I do with a photo of myself? It's a decent photo, but it seems really odd to put up on the wall in my apartment. So I put this survey together for the three of you who read this. And if there are any suggestions outside these, just leave them in the comments.

I'm really curious.

Hope you chose wisely

In case you haven't heard, there is a winner in the DVD 2.0 wars. It is Blu-Ray. And while the owners of Toshiba cry and the owners of the PS 3 rejoice, here is a neat fact sheet from Consumerist for the rest of us schlubs.

I don't even have a flat screen yet.

Lunchbox in Boston

So this weekend was a busy and terrific one. First, my friend Adam who is known around here as the guy in the Lunchbox videos, was here for a few days. He was in a radio play that opened for the Magnetic Fields. I'd never heard them before, but they were pretty interesting and the lead singer had this odd low voiced mumbling thing going on. But we had a great time. Went to The Barking Crab with my friend Chuck and we all had...crab. It was good and the waitresses were humorless.

I also went to pick up my new car on Friday, and I drove it home.

Okay, so this isn't the car I bought. But there was some snafu at the dealership with my bank check which I knew was too easy. How often do you print out a document that allows some guy to let you take away a new car. So after that was done, I brought this home.

Much better. Put XM radio in and I'm all set. Nice to finally drive my own wheels.

Ego Much?

Listen, when I was a cop in New York City, we only went so far as to call ourselves "New York's Finest." And I'd hazard that we had some really incredible guys working on that job that was larger than the Coast Guard

What the hell is up with this? I didn't vote for these clowns.

Go drink a latte and write some jaywalking tickets, you tanned zips.  Hard to see the criminals with the cucumber slices over your eyes I hear. 

Californigh-yah.....

Good Evening, I took a quick jaunt to the Left Coast on this weekend. And I didn't get to see a bunch of friends out there, but this was a somewhat under the radar trip as it's been crazy at work and I just needed to chill.

And this is the thing you want to see when leaving for warmer climates.These are deicing trucks spraying down a JetBlue plane at Logan. Which as mentioned before in this blog is a good thing, but even nicer when you're flying somewhere that's 75 degrees and not a cloud in the sky.

So out there I stayed with my friend Sam and his wife Kathryn (I really think I'm spelling her name right) and their insane sheltie Dougall. That dog barks at the wind, the TV,or my farts. So yes, the dog was loud this weekend.  Hardy har har.  To sum up the activities: 

Drinking, finally watching Superbad, U.S. Rugby 7's tourney in San Diego, really fresh mexican food, a beach with like 4,000 dogs on it, karaoke at an Irish pub, wearing shorts in February.  

This photo does it justice:

And then I got back and it was like 15 degrees. Damn New England. It's like we did something to God over here.

Ah so....

If you watched the Super Bowl, I'm sure you saw this coming....

Even voting is different up here

So today is Super Tuesday and I just went down the street to cast my vote. This is not going to be a post about Vote or Die or how thousands of Americans have died so that we can all have the right to vote. I think people should vote, but I'm not going to preach.

However, I miss the NYC voting machines. They are these giant metal beasts with levers and knobs. It makes voting fun. You turn the knob for your candidate and then to cast your vote and clear the board, you move this giant lever on the floor. It feels satisying. As if you're actually sending your vote hurtling towards the Board of Elections.

In Somerville, they have a paper ballot with the candidates names. And there's broken arrows next to each of them. So you fill in the arrow. I was skeptical to say the least, and unlike the machine, I kept peeking at the ballot to make sure the right arrow was connected. And then you feed it into a machine and it beeps and you're done. That's it. Not satisfying "Ka-chunk" as the lever slides forward. You sort of wonder if you voted at all. However, I did get a sticker that says "I voted today." And that's gotta be worth something.

Is it safe?

So tonight the 18-0 Pats coughed up the big one to the Giants, and while I was rooting for the Pats tonight (Jets fan), I realized that this isn't a big deal. I know that's blasphemy to the guy from Quincy getting his large regular at Dunkin tomorrow morning, which perversely up here means cream instead of milk with sugar. But I think that given the past successes of the Sox and the Pats that this town has come to expect victories. And every once in awhile, when one gets too cocky, you need to be reminded of where you live. And that's Boston, the home for suffering sports fans. The perennial underdogs. This being on top stuff isn't really all that great.
Tomorrow morning I have my checkup at the dentist. And just like I did in 5th grade, I spent like 20 minutes brushing my teeth. As if somehow an extra 3 minutes the night before will make up for 5 months of general dental neglect and lack of flossing. I'm going to have to have the talk tomorrow about the mouth guard. Which even though a beautiful friend of mine admits to using one, seems like the last step in bachelor geekdom. But I guess I want to keep the chompers, right?

Take that Mike Gravel

No matter your political views, you should admit that this is a pretty awesome spot.

Wow, so much Wow. Like a Sea of Wow.

So I must conclude that Season 4 of the Wire is the most depressing season of television out there. This show which I've gloated over like some sort of deranged lunatic I know, really is the tops. No show on TV right now has the guts that The Wire does. No show. And ending Season 4 might have crushed my soul a little bit.

But much like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the staff at RoCS have come up with something to lift the dark clouds of inner-city Baltimore. And it comes in the form of a psychic. I should mention that this guy is actually the son of my parent's friends. This clip is awesome. My favorite part is when he asks the guy how often he touches himself.

I agree it's a tad excessive, but the man has needs.

This is the future of TV if the WGA doesn't work out this strike.