I am a fan of many shows and I marked them all down on Facebook (henceforth referred to as "fb" so I can bring in the young audience - side note: Do kids read? Do they still even learn to read? We'll save these and other more pressing matters for future posts - second note: my mother-in-law refers to Facebook as SpaceShip, I find this hilarious.). Indicating the TV shows I like serves a couple of purposes:
1) All of my friends can readily see how cool I am that I watch "Breaking Bad" and "How to Make it in America." Basically I put a bunch of shows on there that I may or may not watch, but want people to think I watch, so they will think I am cool. I am at the mercy of what other people think.
2) For shows I do actually watch, when the new season is about to begin they post an announcement and I see it on my news feed which reminds me to record/watch it, buy popcorn, and make sure I am not in the middle of something (pooping) at 9PM.
Having all these likes of TV shows on fb presents a problem though. Most shows post crap like every god damn day. Most of the time I just skip those posts on my news feed, but it is beginning to bother me and I'd rather not see all of these posts. I know I could hide all the posts of "Dexter" but then how the hell am I supposed to remember that a new season is about to premier? This f-ing blows.
Yours truly,
J
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Monetized
Ok two things:
1) I am going to try and start writing posts again. Not everyday or even every other day, that is way too hard, so about once I week I will try and come up with something good and post it here. As usual my posts will be about anything and everything. Although I may still talk about my love of blue steel (my ride), which I still have and love. Note to self: take her out for a spin along the water and enjoy the sunshine.
I find that writing can be cathartic and I feel like I am better at expressing myself with the written word rather than the verbal. Even if my expression is about horse poop or apple juice.
2) I've sold out. I figure I am still getting hits on this even though I've only posted once since November of 2007. Mostly I get weird comments on my most read articles from people trying to sell crap. I used to delete these comments but I haven't for a while so you can check them out. Anywho, I had fairly recently signed up for Adsense for my youtube account because one of my videos was receiving a decent number of hits. I did discover I couldn't monetize that video because of the copyrighted song that is playing. Oh well. So I finally decided I might as well monetize this bad boy of a blog. Now I know, I've sold out. I'm just trying to get paid and all of that. That is partially true. But at the same time I try and look at it as an additional incentive to start writing again. We'll see if it works. Probably not, but you might want to check back again in a week or so and see if I've posted again.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Comeback!
I was re-reading some of my posts and man I was really kind of hilarious and pathetic back in my mid to late 20's. Some of those posts need to be deleted immediately and some of them need to be enshrined on my tombstone when I die. Yes, it will be a rather large tombstone. Actually, I am thinking of cremation. I still get comments now and then on some of my posts, mostly from foreign advertisers that are advertising something foreign.
So my last post was on November 1, 2007. So by my count it has been 2 years and some number of months and days since my last post. The best I can tell it has been between 2 and 3 years. Did I mention that I am a certified middle school math teacher? Well, what else has happened since then? Have you matured at all? Did you turn into the alcoholic, fat ass, haven't had sex in years, shriveled genitalia guy we all expected you to become? Did you get rid of Blue Steel? Hell No! Blue Steel is just fine, living in the same parking spot she has always had. Yay!
My fiance's mother refers to Blue Steel as the Blue Magnet which I don't understand. Yes, you read that correctly. Thought I could just slip that in there, I said fiance. I'm engaged to be married... to a woman! Yeah, I'm excited. She is crazy cute and super cool. I am a lucky dude. Don't worry though, this blog is and shall remain in honor of Blue Steel and nothing else. Sorry T. <-- that's my fiance! T! Yay! Her name begins with the letter T! That is and always was my secret code, referring to people by the first letter of their first name. Secret's out. Oh no!
What else is going on man? Thanks for asking, I am a substitute teacher. I know, I am shaping young minds.. scary. I'm engaged. I think I mentioned that. I am still a physical specimen. I am training for my first triathlon in September. I have learned to cook. I watch and read a lot more news instead of just sports nowadays, which is so grown up, but really I still feel like a kid. I enjoying showing T my sweet dance moves.
Okay, anyway I am thinking of making a comeback to the blogging even though it is sooo 2006. Whatever dude. I'm back. Buckle up. Next post, 2013.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Double D's
Don't get all worked up. I'm not talking about boobs. I'm talking 'bout Dunkin Donuts. And I'm not here to talk about their coffee that everyone loves and must have or else they will die. I don't drink that shit. I don't drink coffee. I don't drink soda. Although I love caffeine, it can make me a little excitable and unable to sleep when sleepy time approaches. Anyway we all know my beverage of choice comes from apples.
I do however go there 4-8 times a week for breakfast/lunch/afternoon snack/I just woke up and want a freaking bagel for a bagel and sometimes a muffin and maybe some juice. There is one about a block away and I walk over there and get some grub. Even though the staff there sees me all the time and I order the same crap everyday they never recognize me. One day I am going to ask for "the usual" and they are going to stare at me with blank faces. That's just bad business.
They do have some new uniforms... some of the time. One crew (I think weekday afternoon crew) has new yellow shirts but down the side of the torso portion of the shirt there is a darker yellow color. It looks like they got crazy sweaty pits going on, which they probably do. Makes me feel good for some reason. It gives me a chuckle. I also like it when the severely overweight one (I know, they are all overweight but I would be to if the perks of my job were free donuts and bagels) calls me "hon" or "honey." I'm not your honey. You can't even remember me from yesterday. But it still makes me feel good. Leaves me with a smile.
I do however go there 4-8 times a week for breakfast/lunch/afternoon snack/I just woke up and want a freaking bagel for a bagel and sometimes a muffin and maybe some juice. There is one about a block away and I walk over there and get some grub. Even though the staff there sees me all the time and I order the same crap everyday they never recognize me. One day I am going to ask for "the usual" and they are going to stare at me with blank faces. That's just bad business.
They do have some new uniforms... some of the time. One crew (I think weekday afternoon crew) has new yellow shirts but down the side of the torso portion of the shirt there is a darker yellow color. It looks like they got crazy sweaty pits going on, which they probably do. Makes me feel good for some reason. It gives me a chuckle. I also like it when the severely overweight one (I know, they are all overweight but I would be to if the perks of my job were free donuts and bagels) calls me "hon" or "honey." I'm not your honey. You can't even remember me from yesterday. But it still makes me feel good. Leaves me with a smile.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
The Soothing Qualities of Blue Steel
Supposedly, and don't ask me who came up this idea, this blog is to be about my car, blue steel. I have failed to write about my beloved car recently and I want to remind the world that our love is as strong and as special as it ever was. Honestly, each time I drive it I love it even more, even though I thought that would be impossible.
I was in Colorado for two weeks and when I returned and finally went down stairs and saw my car I can't describe the feeling. It wasn't sexual arousal, but it was something close.
Today I washed my car and while I washed it all my other problems, concerns, worries and stresses just faded away as I focused on the job at hand; making blue steel fucking immaculate. Job well done.
I was in Colorado for two weeks and when I returned and finally went down stairs and saw my car I can't describe the feeling. It wasn't sexual arousal, but it was something close.
Today I washed my car and while I washed it all my other problems, concerns, worries and stresses just faded away as I focused on the job at hand; making blue steel fucking immaculate. Job well done.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Hangover Theory
The real reason for me to be unemployed and to continue to do so and to not yet have even tried to be anything other than unemployed is 1) to pretend like I know what I am doing in the stock market and 2) thoroughly test out my hangover theory, which is what I did in New York last weekend.
B can confirm that on Sunday I reached a level of hangover-ness that no man, woman, child, or beast has ever reached before. I know what I felt and I know I wouldn't shut up about it. Of course I did have the whole am I just really hungover or am I still drunk thing going Sunday morning. Let me solve that question right now. I was both. I was very hungover and I was still drunk. You may be wondering, what is the reason for all of this? Was I just having a good time the night before? No, I wasn't. I was getting drunk with a purpose. The purpose being that the initial period of a really bad hangover when you feel like absolute shit, but the shit feeling is still a relatively new experience for that particular day is probably the most fun part of the whole drinking process. This really only works if you have to get up and do something that next day. If you can sleep until 3 in the afternoon it doesn't count. You have to get up by 11 after going to bed past 4 when you are borderline dead due to alcohol poisoning. Preferably hospitalization should be avoided for two reasons. 1) don't take it so far that you might actually die and 2) at hospitals they give you drugs that make you feel better, which ultimately takes away from that initial hangover that is so much fun. I would also recommend avoiding being arrested and being caught doing anything that may be construed as illegal because although at the time you may not care, and even the next day when you feel like shit you might not care, eventually you will care when you are put in jail and face criminal charges. Legal fees, jail time, and loss of future job prospects are not worth it.
Okay, I know what you are thinking: Hangover, fun!?!? This dude has completely lost his mind. I admit, this may be a possibility, but my reason for enjoying the first couple hours of a hangover in the early (relatively) morning after a night of excessive binge drinking is because you now have a license to be the biggest dick in the world and what guy doesn't enjoying being the biggest dick in the world, and what girl doesn't enjoy being around the biggest dick in the world, figuratively or not. It's the only time you can truly freely express yourself without restraint due to politeness or fear of the consequences. I can walk down the street and scream obscenities in public and not care if I am being annoying or rude or mean. I don't give a fuck.. at that time, and that, my friend, is fun.
The problem is after that initial period of "fun hangover time" is over, then you just have a bad hangover, which sucks, and goes on all day.
Just beware, when I am enjoying my hangover, don't get me started on college football, and know that I will not be able to control the volume of my voice. Good luck to you all.
I'd like to note here that after this hangover began to subside on Sunday night I drove back to Boston, in 3 hours and 10 minutes. I didn't even feel like I was speeding.
B can confirm that on Sunday I reached a level of hangover-ness that no man, woman, child, or beast has ever reached before. I know what I felt and I know I wouldn't shut up about it. Of course I did have the whole am I just really hungover or am I still drunk thing going Sunday morning. Let me solve that question right now. I was both. I was very hungover and I was still drunk. You may be wondering, what is the reason for all of this? Was I just having a good time the night before? No, I wasn't. I was getting drunk with a purpose. The purpose being that the initial period of a really bad hangover when you feel like absolute shit, but the shit feeling is still a relatively new experience for that particular day is probably the most fun part of the whole drinking process. This really only works if you have to get up and do something that next day. If you can sleep until 3 in the afternoon it doesn't count. You have to get up by 11 after going to bed past 4 when you are borderline dead due to alcohol poisoning. Preferably hospitalization should be avoided for two reasons. 1) don't take it so far that you might actually die and 2) at hospitals they give you drugs that make you feel better, which ultimately takes away from that initial hangover that is so much fun. I would also recommend avoiding being arrested and being caught doing anything that may be construed as illegal because although at the time you may not care, and even the next day when you feel like shit you might not care, eventually you will care when you are put in jail and face criminal charges. Legal fees, jail time, and loss of future job prospects are not worth it.
Okay, I know what you are thinking: Hangover, fun!?!? This dude has completely lost his mind. I admit, this may be a possibility, but my reason for enjoying the first couple hours of a hangover in the early (relatively) morning after a night of excessive binge drinking is because you now have a license to be the biggest dick in the world and what guy doesn't enjoying being the biggest dick in the world, and what girl doesn't enjoy being around the biggest dick in the world, figuratively or not. It's the only time you can truly freely express yourself without restraint due to politeness or fear of the consequences. I can walk down the street and scream obscenities in public and not care if I am being annoying or rude or mean. I don't give a fuck.. at that time, and that, my friend, is fun.
The problem is after that initial period of "fun hangover time" is over, then you just have a bad hangover, which sucks, and goes on all day.
Just beware, when I am enjoying my hangover, don't get me started on college football, and know that I will not be able to control the volume of my voice. Good luck to you all.
I'd like to note here that after this hangover began to subside on Sunday night I drove back to Boston, in 3 hours and 10 minutes. I didn't even feel like I was speeding.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Tease
I know, I'm such a tease. I post a few things and you think he is going to get back into it and post a ton of awesome stuff all the time.. kind of like my life, all awesomeness all the time, but then he doesn't post anything for a week. Well, I am really bored and drunk and on drugs and playing golf and whatever else it is I do.
I started taking Kung Fu so don't mess with me. If you do, I will call up my Kung Fu teacher and have him kick your ass. What!?
I started taking Kung Fu so don't mess with me. If you do, I will call up my Kung Fu teacher and have him kick your ass. What!?
Monday, July 23, 2007
The Stages of Unemployment
So I have been unemployed for a couple of weeks now or something like that. I really can't keep track of time anymore. The days just kind of melt into each other. Here are the stages I have experienced so far:
1) Pure joy. Bliss. I don't have to do shit anymore. Even my parents aren't hassling me because now I will have time to go visit them. We'll see about that. The only way to make this stage last is to develop a drug/alcohol problem which I am sort of doing, but my heart really isn't in it.. yet.
2) Planning. Let's update my resume! Let's take a class! Let's get some exercise! Let's go to the grocery store for the first time in 6 months! Most of these things never happen, but at least I thought about making them happen.
3) Boredom. I am writing this blog entry at 3:15AM. I will sleep until at least noon tomorrow if not later. I will watch shitty TV all day and try and find a friend to do something with. Boredom does help contribute to alcoholism/drug addiction which can lead right back, at least temporarily, to stage:
4) Joy! Yay! I'm a bored drug addict alcoholic insomniac with no job who is quickly depleting his savings at an alarming rate and soon will be a bum on the street!
Seriously though I am still more or less in the first two stages. My resume has been worked on, and classes and other various activities are seriously in the works. What, you ask? I'm going to take Kung-Fu, and brew my own beer, and be a big brother. Also, other possible ways to make money legally are in the works. I'm talking to you B and you, crazy hair J, let's do this shit.
Really, being unemployed is like being on summer vacation. It's pretty nice.. especially since it is summer right now.
This time of night is when I really produce awesome and depressing and awesomely depressingly blog entries.. the mixture of tiredness, insomnia, and lack of drugs and alcohol in my system really does wonders for my writing abilities.. I f-ing love it.
1) Pure joy. Bliss. I don't have to do shit anymore. Even my parents aren't hassling me because now I will have time to go visit them. We'll see about that. The only way to make this stage last is to develop a drug/alcohol problem which I am sort of doing, but my heart really isn't in it.. yet.
2) Planning. Let's update my resume! Let's take a class! Let's get some exercise! Let's go to the grocery store for the first time in 6 months! Most of these things never happen, but at least I thought about making them happen.
3) Boredom. I am writing this blog entry at 3:15AM. I will sleep until at least noon tomorrow if not later. I will watch shitty TV all day and try and find a friend to do something with. Boredom does help contribute to alcoholism/drug addiction which can lead right back, at least temporarily, to stage:
4) Joy! Yay! I'm a bored drug addict alcoholic insomniac with no job who is quickly depleting his savings at an alarming rate and soon will be a bum on the street!
Seriously though I am still more or less in the first two stages. My resume has been worked on, and classes and other various activities are seriously in the works. What, you ask? I'm going to take Kung-Fu, and brew my own beer, and be a big brother. Also, other possible ways to make money legally are in the works. I'm talking to you B and you, crazy hair J, let's do this shit.
Really, being unemployed is like being on summer vacation. It's pretty nice.. especially since it is summer right now.
This time of night is when I really produce awesome and depressing and awesomely depressingly blog entries.. the mixture of tiredness, insomnia, and lack of drugs and alcohol in my system really does wonders for my writing abilities.. I f-ing love it.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Voicemail/Missed Call Etiquette
Here are the rules:
If you call me and don't leave a message I will call you back.
If you call me and leave a voicemail message I will call you back.
If you call me and leave a voicemail message, as in my phone indicates I have a voicemail, but when I call my voicemail there is nothing there except for blank silence, or possibly heavy breathing, I will not call you back, asshole. Not only that, but if you continue to do this we will no longer be friends, associates, business partners, lovers, etc.
This is what I do with junk mail. It has been on our fridge for months. Sorry to all the stalkers of mine, I have deleted the address. If you were a good stalker you would already know where I live anyway. Why don't you give it up buddy? And by the way, stop leaving breathing messages on my phone. It's starting to get creepy.
I need to write about last week and last weekend. I went to Chicago for a night, then back to Boston, and then the next day to Texas for a wedding where yours truly was the best man and delivered a hell of a speech. I'm waiting for the video tape to see if I will post it on youtube and truly cement my awesomeness to the world.
For those of you that care I am staying in Boston and not moving anywhere.
If you call me and don't leave a message I will call you back.
If you call me and leave a voicemail message I will call you back.
If you call me and leave a voicemail message, as in my phone indicates I have a voicemail, but when I call my voicemail there is nothing there except for blank silence, or possibly heavy breathing, I will not call you back, asshole. Not only that, but if you continue to do this we will no longer be friends, associates, business partners, lovers, etc.
This is what I do with junk mail. It has been on our fridge for months. Sorry to all the stalkers of mine, I have deleted the address. If you were a good stalker you would already know where I live anyway. Why don't you give it up buddy? And by the way, stop leaving breathing messages on my phone. It's starting to get creepy.
I need to write about last week and last weekend. I went to Chicago for a night, then back to Boston, and then the next day to Texas for a wedding where yours truly was the best man and delivered a hell of a speech. I'm waiting for the video tape to see if I will post it on youtube and truly cement my awesomeness to the world.
For those of you that care I am staying in Boston and not moving anywhere.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Flight of the Conchords
I know it's been a while and let me tell you some shit went down. But I'll get to that later. I just found out about this show, Flight of the Conchords, and it could be the funniest thing ever. It's on after Entourage on HBO. Here are some clips:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3tcJDRqYIO4&NR=1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nwvEDzsLHc4&NR=1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BUiM1Ixp6K4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N7vgY0yEs9Y&mode=related&search=
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MxinK7GQ6g&amp;amp;NR=1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uarVm5xFPtA&NR=1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drL5_dws0Y8&mode=related&search=
I think you get the idea. Good show. If you haven't seen this show you might not want to watch all these clips. I recommend watching the show all in order so you can follow the story. Thanks to R who showed me this show.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3tcJDRqYIO4&NR=1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nwvEDzsLHc4&NR=1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BUiM1Ixp6K4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N7vgY0yEs9Y&mode=related&search=
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MxinK7GQ6g&amp;amp;NR=1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uarVm5xFPtA&NR=1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drL5_dws0Y8&mode=related&search=
I think you get the idea. Good show. If you haven't seen this show you might not want to watch all these clips. I recommend watching the show all in order so you can follow the story. Thanks to R who showed me this show.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
And Then There Were 2
I just got back from Chicago. I was looking at apartments. I am either living there or staying in beantown. I don't know what the hell to do. I probably won't be posting anything til next week because I will be Texas at a wedding until then. I am way too tired right now to say anything funny or interesting. I'm sorry, but here's this:
Someone told me about this shit, so thanks:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NCedVqOucMM
Someone told me about this shit, so thanks:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NCedVqOucMM
Monday, July 2, 2007
Untitled
Now that I am unemployed I have more free time to ignore my blog and focus on more important things such as Facebook and sleeping and becoming a full blow alcoholic. Yay!
I know you are wondering. I haven't written about Blue Steel for a while. She is doing well. Really well actually. Thanks for asking. She's doing lot better than me. She is still overtaking weaker automobiles at breathtaking speed, blasting through speed traps, and in general embarrassing everyone else out there. I've tried to do this on my own, running around the streets, and it just doesn't work as well. I don't remember how many points she has, but she has earned more.
I did get a parking ticket, boo, in Boston last week. Jesus Christ that shit is expensive now. $55 and I got in my car 3 minutes after it was written up. If I had just had a chance to see the meter maid and reason with her/him/it. Blue Steel should be allowed to park wherever the hell it wants. Why? Because she is beautiful... and has a nice rack.
I know you are wondering. I haven't written about Blue Steel for a while. She is doing well. Really well actually. Thanks for asking. She's doing lot better than me. She is still overtaking weaker automobiles at breathtaking speed, blasting through speed traps, and in general embarrassing everyone else out there. I've tried to do this on my own, running around the streets, and it just doesn't work as well. I don't remember how many points she has, but she has earned more.
I did get a parking ticket, boo, in Boston last week. Jesus Christ that shit is expensive now. $55 and I got in my car 3 minutes after it was written up. If I had just had a chance to see the meter maid and reason with her/him/it. Blue Steel should be allowed to park wherever the hell it wants. Why? Because she is beautiful... and has a nice rack.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
River of Blood
This past weekend I travelled to Austin, Texas for my buddy P's bachelor party. It was a lot of fun. If you have to go to Texas, go to Austin. It's a cool city with a lot of hot girls... as per my usual "game" indicates I may have slurred some words at a couple of them, but that is about it. Anyway, after watching my friends run around the streets in near-nakedness and exposing themselves to strangers on Friday night (I was not quite as hammered, as I had wandered off by myself to another bar while they continued to pound beers with reckless abandon thus I did not expose my genitalia to anyone. I don't think anyone was carrying a microscope so it wouldn't have mattered if I had. I'm kidding, I'm huge) we went tubing down the Guadalupe river on Saturday. Texas, in the last couple of weeks has received an excessive amount of rain so the river was high, and in fact, it was closed to would be tubers earlier in the week. On Saturday it was open, and in retrospect I am not sure if I am glad it was. After plunging into the water, along with about 40 million drunk Texans, we were hit with the first rapid about 50 yards downstream. The bachelor, P, was tossed from his tube, and our cooler was flipped and landed on his head while he was underwater and he died. I'm kidding. He didn't die, but he will never be the same. I also got flipped out of my tube and proceeded to bang my way through the rocks as the powerful thunderous river thrashed me to and fro. This first rapid only banged my legs up a little bit. It wasn't too bad. We then drifted through very calm waters and some mild rapids in which none of us were hurt, until the second to last rapid where I lost my tube (temporarily, thank you mister kayaker), sprained my thumb, gashed my elbow, and banged my knees and feet. Yes, I am a baby, but that shit hurt kid. I still have my elbow bandaged and my thumb wrapped 4 days later. The last rapid was right before the end and right before a very low bridge which I got stuck against and I may still be stuck against right now.
Saturday night we went to a party at the bride's brothers house and played an Eastern European Guatemalan version of yee-haw, hoedown, haybarn, big tittie cow girl, John Wayne. It was fun.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Cigarettes
I bet cigarettes have some obscure health benefit like for a certain rare disease cigarettes actually help cure or prevent that disease. I bet there is some group of people somewhere in the world that because of genetic or environmental reasons have a high frequency of this disease. Therefore, I think they should start smoking more cigarettes for the health benefit. Yes, they may increase their chances of lung cancer, emphysema, etc., but lower their chances of disease X. So maybe if they don't smoke there is a 50% chance they will die of disease X by the time they are 35, but if they do smoke that percent goes way down and there becomes an 85% chance they will die of lung cancer by the time they are 50. Yea, they have to start smoking real young to get the full benefit with regards to disease X. What would you do? More research should be done on this.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
3 Years of My Mid 20's Gone
I am quitting my job in two weeks. Two weeks from tomorrow and I'm out of there. They actually talked about extending me, but I said no, I'm out. I already have my letter of resignation written:
Dear ***** ****** Corporation,
F-You. I'm out bitches!
J
Here is a summary of my 3 years:
Number of days worked: 722
Number of actions booked: 2000+
Average arrival time Year 1: 7:45AM
Average departure time Year 1: 5:00PM
Average arrival time Year 2: 8AM
Average departure time Year 2: 4:15PM
Average arrival time Year 3 (first 8 months): 9AM
Average departure time Year 3 (first 8 months): 4PM
Average arrival time Year 3 (last 4 months): 10:30AM
Average departure time Year 3 (last 4 months): 3:45PM - stopped caring
Number of inquires/questions received: 3412
Number of inquires/questions resolved: 3412 - Oh Yeah!
Number of times on the phone I requested person to write me an email because I couldn't understand Asian/Indian/Foreign accent: 23
Number of times I still couldn't understand them over email: 17
Number of times I caused a major f-ing problem: 0
Number of time I thought I caused a major f-ing problem: 3 - to be young and not know that nothing matters
Number of pay increases: 5
Number of pay increases more than 3%: 1
Number of times my desk was unnecessarily moved: 2
Number of trips to India: 2
Number of days spent in India for work: 56
Number of times I was freaked out/horrified by what had occurred or what was occurring in the bathroom: 31
Number of times I was the cause of above freak out: 7
Number of times I was hit in the groin by a flying object: 3
Number of times I arrived at work hungover: 32
Number of times I vomited at work: 0
Number of times I went to the gym when I should have been working: 170
Number of times my boss said something offensive: 100+
Number of times I cursed a little too loud: 35
Number of times I yelled/sweared at incompetent co-worker: 1
Number of incompetent co-workers I had: 7
Total number of co-workers: 18
Satisfaction level with upper management (1-10, 10 being the best): 0
Number of hot girls I worked with: 1
Number of hot girls I have seen in the office over 3 years: 8
Number of people I plan on staying in contact with: 5
Number of times I saw the gay guy looking at questionable material online: 1
Number of times the other gay guy stuck his ass out suggestively: too many, and damn it, I noticed.
Number of times the middle aged ethnic woman picked her nose/farted/scratched her crotch in front of me: 14
Number of over 250 pounds women I worked with: 2, and they were both like 5 feet tall
Percentage of my total income over the last 3 years that came from this job: <50% - I am not a drug dealer.
Number of future job prospects as of today: 0
No one at work knows about this blog and I hope it stays that way. I also hope any potential future employers of mine do not read this.
Dear ***** ****** Corporation,
F-You. I'm out bitches!
J
Here is a summary of my 3 years:
Number of days worked: 722
Number of actions booked: 2000+
Average arrival time Year 1: 7:45AM
Average departure time Year 1: 5:00PM
Average arrival time Year 2: 8AM
Average departure time Year 2: 4:15PM
Average arrival time Year 3 (first 8 months): 9AM
Average departure time Year 3 (first 8 months): 4PM
Average arrival time Year 3 (last 4 months): 10:30AM
Average departure time Year 3 (last 4 months): 3:45PM - stopped caring
Number of inquires/questions received: 3412
Number of inquires/questions resolved: 3412 - Oh Yeah!
Number of times on the phone I requested person to write me an email because I couldn't understand Asian/Indian/Foreign accent: 23
Number of times I still couldn't understand them over email: 17
Number of times I caused a major f-ing problem: 0
Number of time I thought I caused a major f-ing problem: 3 - to be young and not know that nothing matters
Number of pay increases: 5
Number of pay increases more than 3%: 1
Number of times my desk was unnecessarily moved: 2
Number of trips to India: 2
Number of days spent in India for work: 56
Number of times I was freaked out/horrified by what had occurred or what was occurring in the bathroom: 31
Number of times I was the cause of above freak out: 7
Number of times I was hit in the groin by a flying object: 3
Number of times I arrived at work hungover: 32
Number of times I vomited at work: 0
Number of times I went to the gym when I should have been working: 170
Number of times my boss said something offensive: 100+
Number of times I cursed a little too loud: 35
Number of times I yelled/sweared at incompetent co-worker: 1
Number of incompetent co-workers I had: 7
Total number of co-workers: 18
Satisfaction level with upper management (1-10, 10 being the best): 0
Number of hot girls I worked with: 1
Number of hot girls I have seen in the office over 3 years: 8
Number of people I plan on staying in contact with: 5
Number of times I saw the gay guy looking at questionable material online: 1
Number of times the other gay guy stuck his ass out suggestively: too many, and damn it, I noticed.
Number of times the middle aged ethnic woman picked her nose/farted/scratched her crotch in front of me: 14
Number of over 250 pounds women I worked with: 2, and they were both like 5 feet tall
Percentage of my total income over the last 3 years that came from this job: <50% - I am not a drug dealer.
Number of future job prospects as of today: 0
No one at work knows about this blog and I hope it stays that way. I also hope any potential future employers of mine do not read this.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
I Lost a Lot of Weight, a Lot of Weight
Guy in the elevator the other day who I've seen a handful of times since moving here almost 2 years ago, but has never said anything to me says "Hey, I've seen you around a few times and you've lost a lot of weight, a lot of weight. Whatever you're doing, keep it up." Um, okay. I have lost maybe 10 pounds in those 2 years but that's about it. What did he think? I was a fat-ass before? Oddly enough, him saying this at the time put me in a good mood. I am looking good. Dudes in the elevator be trying to pick me up and shit. And shit.
Speaking of guys trying to pick me up, did I tell you about the one at the mall a while back? I don't think I have, but I am really way too lazy to look back at all my posts and try and remember shit, so I'm just going to tell it again. I was at the mall, at Macy's, you know getting some sweet gear, when this guy approached me and asks me if I am Moroccan. No, I tell him, and then somehow I proceed to talk to this guy for about 20 minutes about Morocco, India, business, whatever, I don't even remember it all. Somehow this guy was so smooth that I ended up giving him my phone number, and I'm not even gay! I walked away from him thinking "hey, that guy was nice" and then I thought "oh wait, did he just pick me up?" He called me a couple times and left messages but I didn't call him back. I'm such a tease.
So I need to say this, I know I have a lot of international fans, but to the guy/girl that has been calling me from Spain 30 times today, please stop. You don't even say anything when I pick up. What the hell!?
Speaking of guys trying to pick me up, did I tell you about the one at the mall a while back? I don't think I have, but I am really way too lazy to look back at all my posts and try and remember shit, so I'm just going to tell it again. I was at the mall, at Macy's, you know getting some sweet gear, when this guy approached me and asks me if I am Moroccan. No, I tell him, and then somehow I proceed to talk to this guy for about 20 minutes about Morocco, India, business, whatever, I don't even remember it all. Somehow this guy was so smooth that I ended up giving him my phone number, and I'm not even gay! I walked away from him thinking "hey, that guy was nice" and then I thought "oh wait, did he just pick me up?" He called me a couple times and left messages but I didn't call him back. I'm such a tease.
So I need to say this, I know I have a lot of international fans, but to the guy/girl that has been calling me from Spain 30 times today, please stop. You don't even say anything when I pick up. What the hell!?
Sunday, June 3, 2007
2 flights, 3 take offs, 3 landings, what!?
I'm not going to apologize for not writing for a while because well, I just don't care. And I was busy actually working in India for the last two weeks. I'm back home now. Let me tell you how I got home.
My flight from Mumbai to London took off a little over an hour late and my layover in London was only an hour and a half. So I get to London and I have to go through security again which is retarded because my gate was in the same terminal I was already in and I went through security in Mumbai, but no, the English make yo go through security again. By the time I get through I am sprinting to gate which although is in the same terminal is about a half mile away because once again, you guessed it, London Heathrow is retarded. Normally spiriting a half mile is easy for me, I mean I am a physical specimen.. a phenom, if you will, and you better. However, after two weeks of eating food in India and not working out sprinting a half mile when I am really sleepy carrying a full backpack while avoiding barreling into an Englishman in the terminal was somewhat taxing. It's true, I'm human. Anyway, I make my flight. We take off and everything is looking good. About a half an hour later the captain comes on and informs us there has been an electrical problem (2 of 3 motors went out, I was curious what would have happened if the third went out, but I have no idea what these "motors" actually do) and we have to head back to London. Needless to say, everyone was thrilled. We get back and get off the plane. I immediately head to the lounge and start drinking. So they don't know if the plane can be fixed soon, but there is another plane available, but the pilots can only work a certain number of hours so we don't know if we are going to leave that night or wait til the next day. A couple of hours later they announce they are boarding the plane and we are leaving. So we make it to Boston about 4 and half hours late. We land a little after 2AM. Oh and the landing was pretty f-ing bad. They had gotten a third pilot to take over for the other guys when their eligible time was up and I think the new guy didn't have much experience. Anyway, I am happy that we made it. I get off the plane, go through customs, and head over to baggage claim. Suddenly, my name is announced, so I head over to "the guy" and learn my bag didn't make it. Great. They tell me it will be coming on the next flight and delivered the next day (which, thankfully, it was). Since we landed in the middle of the night I guess there weren't many taxis available so they got hotel vans to help out but they have to crowd a bunch of people into each van so I have to wait around for another 15 minutes trying not to lose my shit and yell at the driver. Eventually, I did make it home and my bag made it the next day so all is well.
My flight from Mumbai to London took off a little over an hour late and my layover in London was only an hour and a half. So I get to London and I have to go through security again which is retarded because my gate was in the same terminal I was already in and I went through security in Mumbai, but no, the English make yo go through security again. By the time I get through I am sprinting to gate which although is in the same terminal is about a half mile away because once again, you guessed it, London Heathrow is retarded. Normally spiriting a half mile is easy for me, I mean I am a physical specimen.. a phenom, if you will, and you better. However, after two weeks of eating food in India and not working out sprinting a half mile when I am really sleepy carrying a full backpack while avoiding barreling into an Englishman in the terminal was somewhat taxing. It's true, I'm human. Anyway, I make my flight. We take off and everything is looking good. About a half an hour later the captain comes on and informs us there has been an electrical problem (2 of 3 motors went out, I was curious what would have happened if the third went out, but I have no idea what these "motors" actually do) and we have to head back to London. Needless to say, everyone was thrilled. We get back and get off the plane. I immediately head to the lounge and start drinking. So they don't know if the plane can be fixed soon, but there is another plane available, but the pilots can only work a certain number of hours so we don't know if we are going to leave that night or wait til the next day. A couple of hours later they announce they are boarding the plane and we are leaving. So we make it to Boston about 4 and half hours late. We land a little after 2AM. Oh and the landing was pretty f-ing bad. They had gotten a third pilot to take over for the other guys when their eligible time was up and I think the new guy didn't have much experience. Anyway, I am happy that we made it. I get off the plane, go through customs, and head over to baggage claim. Suddenly, my name is announced, so I head over to "the guy" and learn my bag didn't make it. Great. They tell me it will be coming on the next flight and delivered the next day (which, thankfully, it was). Since we landed in the middle of the night I guess there weren't many taxis available so they got hotel vans to help out but they have to crowd a bunch of people into each van so I have to wait around for another 15 minutes trying not to lose my shit and yell at the driver. Eventually, I did make it home and my bag made it the next day so all is well.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
That Just Happened
The funniest thing happened last night. I went out, here in Mumbai, with my coworker who shall remain nameless, and some friends I had made from my previous trip. Keep in mind that my coworker is a middle aged balding somewhat chubby man. Although he used to drink back in the day he rarely drinks now at his wife's request so when he is away from her he really wants to let loose and drink hard. We met up with some friends and went to a bar/restaurant where we had some drinks. My coworker had 3 long island iced teas with god knows how much booze in them. We didn't really eat much and we then went to a Hawaiian themed bar. I know, what else do you in Mumbai but go to a Hawaiian bar?? My coworker and I started drinking pretty strong whiskey and cokes and started tearing up the dance floor. Let me just say that I am only willing to dance when I am sufficiently intoxicated, but when I am, I am an awesome dancer. No joke. My coworker threw down some interesting moves and he certainly let loose. We probably drank anywhere between 8 and 15 of these whiskey cokes before one of my friends requested that the bartender cut him off. Me, I kept going. He was becoming very loud and obnoxious. We finally left the bar completely hammered at about 1:30 and got driven to a cab stand where we got a cab to take us back to the hotel. During the ride my coworker begins to puke all over himself and then he sticks his head out the window and pukes out the window. After he is finished he removes his shirt which is covered in puke. Let me just tell you about our hotel for a second. It is really nice. And here in India all the hotel staff are overly polite with their "good evenings" and "how are you sirs?" We get to the hotel and are walking up to the door and my drunken ass is trying to get my coworker to put his shirt on just til he gets to his room, but he intelligently explains that his shirt is covered in puke. For half a second I debated giving him my shirt because I was wearing and under shirt, as is the standard J style we all know and love. I quickly realized that would most likely destroy my shirt and decided not to offer it. We get to the door and I start to burst out laughing as he is walking into the hotel shirtless and drunk off his ass and all the hotel staff stare at him dumbfounded with his balled up puke shirt in his hand. I eagerly explain to everyone within earshot that "it's okay, he just had a few drinks." Keep in mind, there is bar/disco at the hotel and Sunday night is a big night here and there are lots of people milling about. So there is about a hundred people watching this clearly wasted middle aged shirtless balding chubby man that has puke all over himself and me right next to him loosing my shit and cracking up and rolling around on the floor at the scene of him. I try to as quickly as I can usher him to the elevator and I made sure he made it to his room. I then went to my room and passed out.
I woke up a few hours later and immediately burst out laughing at the memory of the sight of him. Still even right now I am laughing while I am writing this. It had to be one of the funniest things I had ever seen.
I of course told my boss this story over the phone today and he couldn't stop laughing.
I woke up a few hours later and immediately burst out laughing at the memory of the sight of him. Still even right now I am laughing while I am writing this. It had to be one of the funniest things I had ever seen.
I of course told my boss this story over the phone today and he couldn't stop laughing.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Live from Mumbai
I barely made it..
I told my loose cannon/alcoholic/insane/likely to be arrested in a foreign country coworker that if he didn't show up at the airport Friday morning I was not going to get on the plane. Seriously, I wasn't doing this alone. No way. And it seemed like a possibility when his wife was admitted to the hospital the day before for some mild sickness. I arrived at the airport around 6:20 AM for the 8 AM flight. By 7:15 he was nowhere to be found and wasn't answering his cell phone. I figured something happened and he wasn't coming. I was heading to the gate to see if was possible to retrieve my checked bag when I finally saw him. Apparently he waited in the long line to check his bag instead of going straight to the business class line. Yea, I know, I work with geniuses. It was actually disappointing to see him because I wanted to stay in Boston so I was kind of glad he had appeared to not be showing up (of course I was mildly concerned.. if something serious had happened.. to his wife.. not him. I don't care about him).
The flight was pretty good. I drank a lot of free booze ("yes I would like some champagne, and a rum and coke and what beers do you have?") and ate some terrible food. I wandered around the plane and realized I was the only passenger awake. It was kind of creepy, like the airline and put everyone to sleep. I watched a few movies.
The airport in India is usually a madhouse with crowds, no hoards of people and cars everywhere. Most international flights arrive in the middle of the night and every member of the family has to journey to airport to pick their loved ones up, and there are about 100,000 taxis and porters wanting to help you carry your bag.. for a fee, and they keep asking even if you keep saying no. Anyway, our flight arrived around noon, which is unusual and is probably the only flight getting in then, so it wasn't nearly as bad. However, since it was noon and it is May, it was about 100 degrees with 100 percent humidity outside. I was sweating profusely by the end of the 100 yard walk outside to the car.
India is an interesting place. In some ways it seems just as fast paced as the U.S. or more so, especially on the roads with the insane traffic and death defying driving abilities of just about everyone. In other ways, it is really slow. Order a sandwich at a deli in the U.S. and they make it and give it you in a few minutes. In India the same thing takes half an hour. Request a room change in India to avoid being near construction at the hotel and they say someone will change it in half an hour. An hour later you are still waiting and finally they do something as the realize the American kid is getting pissed.
I went to the movies in India. Apparently the first order of business once arriving here was to see Spider Man 3. This made perfect sense to me. I had never gone the theaters here before. The theater was nice. You get assigned seating, like at a sporting event, and there was an intermission. Of course I was jet lagged and could barely stay awake.
Other observations about India/the hotel/life in general:
1) The room service guy has an uncanny ability to arrive just as I am sitting down in the bathroom to handle some business. I am convinced they are watching me and are messing with me.
2) If you don't put the 'do not disturb' sign on the door they will try and clean your room every 10 minutes even though you are asleep and tell them to go the f away.
3) Don't try and converse with the taxi driver that doesn't speak English. I feel like it pisses him off "stupid American doesn't know hindi!" and he could really take you anywhere he wants because I don't know where the hell I am.
4) If the movie gets cut off on the plane 10 minutes before the end you have the right to complain. Now I will never know what happens at the end of "Alpha Dog." Justin Timberlake did a surprisingly good job, unless of course he blew it in the last 10 minutes of the movie.
5) What can't Justin Timberlake do?
Sing? Check.
Dance? Check.
Act? Check.
Look beautiful? Check
Be Attractive? Check
Don't be unattractive? Check
Destroy beautiful women so they become a shell of their former selves? Check -Hi Britney!
6) My man crash isn't on Justin Timberlake. We all know I am Johnny Depp guy.
7) I'm not gay, I swear. Well, not that I know of. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
I told my loose cannon/alcoholic/insane/likely to be arrested in a foreign country coworker that if he didn't show up at the airport Friday morning I was not going to get on the plane. Seriously, I wasn't doing this alone. No way. And it seemed like a possibility when his wife was admitted to the hospital the day before for some mild sickness. I arrived at the airport around 6:20 AM for the 8 AM flight. By 7:15 he was nowhere to be found and wasn't answering his cell phone. I figured something happened and he wasn't coming. I was heading to the gate to see if was possible to retrieve my checked bag when I finally saw him. Apparently he waited in the long line to check his bag instead of going straight to the business class line. Yea, I know, I work with geniuses. It was actually disappointing to see him because I wanted to stay in Boston so I was kind of glad he had appeared to not be showing up (of course I was mildly concerned.. if something serious had happened.. to his wife.. not him. I don't care about him).
The flight was pretty good. I drank a lot of free booze ("yes I would like some champagne, and a rum and coke and what beers do you have?") and ate some terrible food. I wandered around the plane and realized I was the only passenger awake. It was kind of creepy, like the airline and put everyone to sleep. I watched a few movies.
The airport in India is usually a madhouse with crowds, no hoards of people and cars everywhere. Most international flights arrive in the middle of the night and every member of the family has to journey to airport to pick their loved ones up, and there are about 100,000 taxis and porters wanting to help you carry your bag.. for a fee, and they keep asking even if you keep saying no. Anyway, our flight arrived around noon, which is unusual and is probably the only flight getting in then, so it wasn't nearly as bad. However, since it was noon and it is May, it was about 100 degrees with 100 percent humidity outside. I was sweating profusely by the end of the 100 yard walk outside to the car.
India is an interesting place. In some ways it seems just as fast paced as the U.S. or more so, especially on the roads with the insane traffic and death defying driving abilities of just about everyone. In other ways, it is really slow. Order a sandwich at a deli in the U.S. and they make it and give it you in a few minutes. In India the same thing takes half an hour. Request a room change in India to avoid being near construction at the hotel and they say someone will change it in half an hour. An hour later you are still waiting and finally they do something as the realize the American kid is getting pissed.
I went to the movies in India. Apparently the first order of business once arriving here was to see Spider Man 3. This made perfect sense to me. I had never gone the theaters here before. The theater was nice. You get assigned seating, like at a sporting event, and there was an intermission. Of course I was jet lagged and could barely stay awake.
Other observations about India/the hotel/life in general:
1) The room service guy has an uncanny ability to arrive just as I am sitting down in the bathroom to handle some business. I am convinced they are watching me and are messing with me.
2) If you don't put the 'do not disturb' sign on the door they will try and clean your room every 10 minutes even though you are asleep and tell them to go the f away.
3) Don't try and converse with the taxi driver that doesn't speak English. I feel like it pisses him off "stupid American doesn't know hindi!" and he could really take you anywhere he wants because I don't know where the hell I am.
4) If the movie gets cut off on the plane 10 minutes before the end you have the right to complain. Now I will never know what happens at the end of "Alpha Dog." Justin Timberlake did a surprisingly good job, unless of course he blew it in the last 10 minutes of the movie.
5) What can't Justin Timberlake do?
Sing? Check.
Dance? Check.
Act? Check.
Look beautiful? Check
Be Attractive? Check
Don't be unattractive? Check
Destroy beautiful women so they become a shell of their former selves? Check -Hi Britney!
6) My man crash isn't on Justin Timberlake. We all know I am Johnny Depp guy.
7) I'm not gay, I swear. Well, not that I know of. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
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