It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out how to connect a friggin‘ cable box. Why is that when you want to get a brand new cable subscription they want a cable guy to come to your house and hook it up for you? The installation charges, $9.95, were minimal and didn’t bother me. What I find ridiculous is that they shouldn’t make it mandatory that someone comes to your home. It should be a service that’s offered if you’re a total doofus when it comes to anything even remotely technical. I thought they had self install kits but after asking about it, they claim they only offer that for High Speed Internet and not cable.
When you schedule the cable guy to come to your home they’re nice enough to give you a window of time that he’s supposed to come. That estimate is about as accurate as saying “Well sir, he possibly might come at some point during the day.” “He’ll be there between 1 and 3 PM” said the woman on the other end of the phone at Comcast. As the time neared 2:30 I was on the phone in no time asking where this motherf’er is. I had to be in my condo at 1 and stay until 3, and when it was 3 he was nowhere to be found. I get a call at around 3:30 from the cable guy who will be coming. He’s completely lost and he barely speaks English. I gathered from my keen observation skills that he was asking me to help him get to my condo so I needed to stay on the phone. Well wasn’t he a little lost, pushy bastard! There I was waiting in the empty condo trying to explain to this guy who had marbles in his mouth how to get to my condo from a neighboring town less than 2 miles away. As I clearly explained what route to take he still asked me to stay on the phone with him. Shouldn’t DIRECTIONS be something that these guys leave their building with? Perhaps a brain might come in handy as well. How are these guys going to get their jobs done without a Mapquest printout or a freakin‘ GPS system in their truck? What if they send Fedex guys out to drop off packages without giving them the addresses of the places they need to go?
The guy finally gets to the condo at 4:30 pm and obviously goes to the wrong building as I stand in my window and throw my forehead into my hand in disgust. I call him to tell him he’s going into the wrong building. (Numbers are blatantly marked on the windows of the building lobbies.) Once he comes in he hands me the cable box and asks ME if I knew how to hook it up! I felt like telling him, we could have avoided this mess if they would have just let me do it on my own. That’s why I asked if I could do it on my own to begin with. After he basically asked if I could do his job for him and still pay Comcast $9.95, I began hooking it up in mere seconds while he went outside to make sure the switch to my unit was turned on. When he came back he asked me if I had a drink for him. I said “Sure what would you like, I have soda, water, iced tea?”” He asked if I had Sprite. Well aren’t we picky now! He should have been thankful that I was so agreeable with his request. I said “I have Mountain Dew.” He said he wanted that and he gulped it down like his body depended on this dew to keep him alive. What’s wrong with these guys? They have no drinks for them either? A vending machine? Once he started on the internet he had to call in my mac address because I have my own modem. His call on his cell phone kept dropping and he had to keep calling back in. (He called back in 3 times because every time he read the mac address she couldn’t hear it.)
And the moral of the story: I was impatient. If I had waited just a few days after this fiasco I saw a Comcast commercial on TV advertising their latest promotion: Cable self install kits. FUUUCK!
Kick Out the Jams, Bennigan’s!
Even though it was a cold, bitter Saturday night, my girl and I were up for going out. We agreed on going to see “The Hitcher.” She had some passes to a theater chain that I’ve only been to once but we figured we’d give it a shot. We hopped on 287 to South Plainfield and drove into the parking lot of the theater. I immediately saw a line forming at the box office which was situated OUTSIDE the theater. How many thousands of years ago was this place built that you need Eskimo gear to actually purchase tickets? After declaring this as definite CRAP, my girlfriend decided to nonchalantly drop in the fact that they DIDN’T have stadium seating! This was an afterthought to her because she doesn’t understand that my viewing experience is paramount to me actually venturing outside my domain to go see a movie. The surrounding must be pretty damn good for me to go see a new movie considering it’ll probably be on cable in a matter of months. Add all of that to the fact that there wasn’t a parking spot in sight because the lot only had 43 spots. Needless to say I vetoed the movie theater idea as fast as you can say “What a shitty remake!”
The lady was hungry so Bennigan’s it was. I swear nowadays you cannot go in there without thinking of the movie Waiting. As we pushed through the entrance doors we were greeted by the Bennigan’s guy and he informed us that “they’re running about a 15-20 minute wait.” I though this was completely insane because there couldn’t have been more than 20 people in the entire establishment at that moment. We opted to sit at the bar and tough it out there. As we hung out with our drinks served by the bald, scary, stare a hole through you, pierced, bartender I tried to listen to the nostalgic tunes on coming out of the ceiling speakers.
The variety of music was mostly from the ’90s. There were some memory jogging songs that came on, but it was one in particular that blew my mind. I immediately recognized the first few seconds but I brushed it off as my mind playing tricks on me. As a few more seconds passed, a familiar voice raps “Im back and Im ringin‘ the bell rockin on the mic while the fly girls yell…” It was none other than Vanilla Ice’s “Play that Funky Music White Boy.” Dumbfounded is a word that doesn’t properly describe my feeling at the time. I never thought I would hear this song again since the days of Vanilla Ice on MTV. Perhaps there’s a renewed interest in Rob Van Winkle since he keeps showing up on VH1. Whatever it may be, I’m proud of Bennigan’s for not just playing typical crap. It’s official, the only two places that you can hear Vanilla Ice: Bennigan’s and my iPod.
So Long, Burger Express
Was it the giant sign protruding out of the parking lot that says Cheese Fries emblazoned in yellow and black that made it so special? Perhaps it was the fact that sitting inside made you feel like you were back in another era? Even though it was known as Burger Express, one of the most famous items on the menu was their Chicken Sandwich with Cheese Fries. Of course, when you’re drunk at 2 am, any type of food ain’t too shabby. You’re 17 years old and the only place you can really drive to with your friends when everything else is closed is a 24 hour burger joint. For 30 years, Burger Express was just that for many of us. B.E. in Carteret, NJ has been a fast food staple, and a local legend of sorts for the entire local area. Recently we got wind that B.E was being forced to close it’s doors. (Something about the NJ Turnpike authority making Exit 12 bigger.) Last weekend we had our last taste of B.E., at least for a while. The lines were literally out the door. It’s said that the classic Cheese Fries sign will rise up from the ground like that missile in Wyatt’s house and once again rule the fast food cravings of many.
In a similar sense, Sciortino’s Pizzeria (the greatest pizza in history) in Perth Amboy, N.J showed the state that they couldn’t keep a good restaurant down. They were forced to close their doors by the city, they re-opened in South Amboy, and now they’re doing better than ever. I think it has something to do with the obligatory newspaper article hanging on the wall commending the unique cuisine and vintage atmosphere. If an eatery has one of those hanging it might give them the extra fortitude to survive amongst all of the chain restaurants that pop up all over the place which no one bothers to actually ever write about. It’s probably cause they’ve got no personality.
Film Review: Invitation to Hell!
Typically I love terrible, shlocky movies. I do have my standards though. I’m not into stuff that’s beyond bad. Some people run websites honoring the worst movies of all time and there are about 93 million entries. Occasionally I like films that are on the brink of being great. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy great films, because I do. Fortunately, if we’re talking Wes Craven movies then we’ll get the best of both worlds with this review.
I am a fan of certain directors and I’m the type of person who tries to see the entire filmography of a director or actor if I enjoyed at least more than one of their films. Ever since my early childhood I thought Wes Craven was the king. Boy was I dead wrong – pun intended. After Scream, Wes put his name on almost any movie that came out in the theater or direct to video if it had one remotely gory scene in it. In reality it was Wes Craven Presents: a truly shitty film made by someone who’s not Wes Craven.
He kind of shot himself in the foot by lending his name to these pieces of garbage. Some of the films that he didn’t actually direct were abysmal. Attaching his name only brought his credibility down. When people see the video box WES CRAVEN PRESENTS – THE PIECE OF SHIT THAT YOU’RE HOLDING IN YOUR HAND. But it’s a clever marketing gimmick because I would be more inclined to see it with his name on it even though I know full well it’s gonna blow Oprah turds. Some of the films that he actually is responsible for blow even worse!
If I may turn your attention to a movie called INVITATION TO HELL. One of the shittiest movies I’ve seen. Of course, it’s no NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET but it did have Susan Lucci playing a whacked out Spa owner who‘s trying to lure Robert Urich to join her mysterious club. When I say whacked out Spa owner I mean a character that they are trying to depict as Satan incarnate. Of course Satan would own a Spa/Country Club. I guess we just figured out where all the golf balls go when they fall into those bodies of water randomly placed in golf courses….STRAIGHT TO F’N HHHELL!
For Zabka’s sake, If Susan Lucci never won an Emmy she should have won a friggin’ Oscar for her portrayal in this movie. And give Robert Urich a fucking lifetime achievement award for being brave enough to play his dumbass role in this film. He’s created a spacesuit that can decipher what species the person is that the helmet zooms in on. What a great idea the writers came up with to OVERLY EXPLAIN that some of the people in the films were demons!
Urich’s kids were played by Punky Brewster and the kid from D.A.R.Y.L. Punky was definitely not in top form, she didn‘t seem punky enough. It’s now a scar on her spectubular resume. FYI I just coined that, I get royalties.
It’s only a rumor so I don’t want you to get excited but I’ve heard through the grapevine that the Weinstein company has the rights to the hot commodity known as “The Script for the Invitation to Hell.” Paris Hilton will take on Susan Lucci’s role. And, it’s a no brainer and I shouldn’t even have to tell you because you probably could have guessed but I’ll tell you anyway: BEN AFFLECK is the obvious frontrunner for Urich’s role. Can Affleck offer anything to a role that was so masterfully played the first time around? Is there a point? I’m actually pulling for Affleck to accept his invitation to hell, then we could be rid of him.
Imagine buying a ticket for this? “can I have one invitation to hell?”
Supermarket Sweep
I was walking around Wegman’s last night and decided to pick up a few things that caught my eye. I’m always on the lookout for obscure food products and I definitely found some. My first aquisition was Saranac’s Shirley Temple Flavored Soft Drink. With 50 carbs, 50 grams of sugar, and not alot of carbonation, this soda is super sweet and will undoubtedly give you Hyperglycemia. It tastes truly amazingly like a Shirley Temple, and it goes down really smooth. I used to get crap as a kid for ordering Shirley Temples and I never understood why until someone told me that I was supposed to be ordering a Roy Roger. I only knew Roy Roger’s as a western style fast food chain. Who cares if I ordered Shirley Temples wherever there was a bar, they tasted awesome. I even got a little older and started concocting my own at home with grenadine and soda. Now I can have my own pre-made ST in a neat glass bottle and worship at the Temple of Shirley.
Second pickup on my Supermarket Sweep was Wegman’s Peanut Butter and Jelly Ice Cream. It’s awful for you, but it’s smooth and delicious for my tummy. There were other brands that made this ice cream flavor but this was the only one I found locally. Ben and Jerry has this listed in their flavor graveyard. Apparently is was only around for a spell and died sometime in the late ’90s. I guess I’m pretty late on the mark. According to Blue Bell Ice Cream’s website, they make the flavor as well. Either way, the combo of the peanut butter ice cream with swirled grape jelly is awesome and worth trying.
The Day the Candy Died
At work the other day we came into a windfall of Smarties. It was fun, it was like Halloween. I don’t eat candy a lot now that I’m all “grown up,” but I was a loyal fan of the candy when I was a kid. Smarties were a favorite of mine and I can’t count how many occasions Smarties wound up in my hands. We would get them in birthday party goody bags, on Halloween, and sometimes in a big-ass variety pack mom bought that was filled with candy. Smarties never changed the formula and always stayed true to themselves. The packaging, flavor, and consistency have stayed the same as long as I can remember. This means a lot in comparison with all the rest of the candy out there.
We stuffed our pockets with as much would fit. My coworker and I had lumpy asses. I haven’t had them in so long so I ripped into them immediately and they tasted awesome. There was actually different varieties like Tropical, which didn’t taste too much different than the original, and Bubble Gum! Now, I’m a big fan of the flavor bubble gum as in “Maglione’s Italian Ice Bubble Gum,” and I was hoping that the Smarties would taste similar. After I popped a bunch in my mouth and started chewing I realized that they actually turned into gum. A pretty BAD gum if I must say. It tasted like apples instead of bubble gum. Even worse, was that it was the type of weak gum that seems like your chewing a pansy ass gum that wears frilly violet shirts. I spit the damn gum out immediately. I couldn’t stand it.
It’s such a shame that Smarties has bowed to the pressures of society and started making all these different varieties. That’s the downfall of quality. Why make Reese’s with caramel, Reese’s with white chocolate, Reese’s with pudding, Reese’s cookies, Reese’s with pesto sauce, Reese’s with neon yellow peanut butter, Reese’s with her spoon, the list goes on and on. To all the candy companies: Start concentrating on the original and quit worrying about offshoots! Stop trying to spin-off your candy! Are you trying to make candy or jump the shark?
After checking out their website, I read that they’re a family owned company and they are made right in Union, New Jersey! Not that this makes me forget how awful their Smarties gum is, but it definitely puts them back in my good graces. But that didn’t last long as I continued to peruse their site and saw so many different kinds of Smarties to chose from. There’s even Smarties candy money! Let this be a lesson, stick to the basics. Once you start manufacturing X-Treme Sour Smarties, it’s disastrous!
And what’s with Nestle Chocolate Smarties clogging up search engines when I search for the REAL Smarties? F-them! Does anyone even like them?
Questionable Best Buy Ad
I’ve been meaning to get to this one but I’ve been so behind since the holidays rolled around. This picture was on the back cover of a Best Buy catalog a month or two before Christmas. When I first thumbed through the catalog and looked at the back, I had to squint and take a closer look. At first glance, it’s a picture of a family playing the new Playstation 3 on their flat screen TV. The father is all frustrated because of his apparent humiliating loss to his pre-historic son who just happens to be good at video games. It looked to me as if the people in the picture are actually wax statues ripped out of a museum display. What’s with the kid? It looks like he was created by Sid and Marty Krofft! Where the hell is Cha-Ka? What kid has hair like that? Who was his stylist Captain Caveman? Considering he’s from the Stone Age, how the heck did he get so damn good at video games? AND why is he wearing the boys winter wardrobe from K-Mart circa 1976? I haven’t seen a haircut like this since the Paleolithic era. The mother looks like she should be weaving a basket or gathering corn. The father looks like he just got knocked upside the head by a dinosaur fossil.
Some strange things are happening in this picture. Take a look at the kid’s right hand, he clearly cannot make a full fist. This is the direct opposite of his mother who seems to be hailing a taxi that’s passing across the living room. It’s gotta be chilly in the room as well because she’s got a scarf on. You have to wonder what’s on the kid’s mind now that the father has been rendered unconscious from the nasty blow to his head from that huge brontosaurus fossil. You can’t tell if he wants to chomp down on his mother or totally try to bang her. Maybe the kid is bowing to her and she’s the almighty ruler of the Gelflings.
I urge you to ask yourselves, is this the type of picture that makes you want to run right out and buy a Playstation 3? Personally I feel my thoughts are distracted far away from the what was supposed to be the PS3 phenom. I find myself being more concerned with knowing if the kid is related to Teen Wolf in any way. Is this ad the reason why PS3 failed to hit as big as it was supposed to? To quote SNL “Who are the Ad Wizards that came up with this one?” I think the true burning question that arises from viewing this picture is: IS THIS THE MODERN STONE AGE FAMILY?
Plans for ’07
I don’t really have any mind blowing plans for ‘07. I’m not gonna be like all the trendy people and say “world domination” is on my list of things to do. I never aim that high.
I thought about writing some really off the wall stuff describing my plans for ’07 but in all honesty I never think of a new year as any different than a few days from now. Let’s be honest how much do things really change? We get older, more cranky. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna keep doing the same things I’ve been doing.
New Jersey will still be known as a shithole. I bet I’ll still watch lame Nicole Eggert movies, usually starring Corey Haim as well. Most likely Gwen Stefani will still be on my iPod. I’ll still be reading comics, eating eggplant parm., and being claustrophobic. WWE, 30 Rock, and Heroes will still be on the top of my list of shows to watch. The wait time for the next Batman movie will dwindle down to 1 year. As you can see, things won’t drastically change. I do wish for MTV to become as cool as they were when I was a kid, minus the reality crap.
Other than the previously stated items, I’ve been having quite a hard time pronouncing the word “brewery.” I don’t know that I have much of a necessity to say “brewery” all that often but I’ll need to get better at saying it anyway.
There’s also no doubt that I’ll keep berating all of you with my blog because I have such a good time doing it. Even if the new year doesn’t bring much change I’m still looking forward it. Happy New Year everyone!
MOVE Bitch, Get Out the Gym!
Today I was working out at the gym on my break and close by was a middle aged woman lifting some heavy free weights. She was a very masculine woman and she was really going at it with the weights. She was also curling a straight bar with like 100 lbs. on it. I noticed that she had her mp3 player on and earbuds in her ears. She was singing to each rap song that came on. What really brought her to my attention was when she was rapping “Move BITCH get out tha way!” along with Ludacris while grunting and pushing dumbells up and down. I found this to be quite amusing.
It helped me realize just how much I hate when people sing along (out loud) to whatever is playing through their mp3 player. I so want to tell them to shut their traps. At least this lady was occupying herself while singing. It’s even worse when people are just wandering around a store or a college singing or rapping along for no reason. Listen to the music and keep the singing in your head!
Back to this lady. She also made me realize just how insanely annoying it is when people are working out and they make these grunting and sighing noises. Some people have their very own patented sound that they make. One guy I knew always used his trademark “sssss” sound everytime he put a weight up, no matter how much the weight was! It could have been 4 lbs. and the guy was like “SSSSSSSS.” Does this help them get the job done? Does grunting make it easier? Why is everyone so fucking dramatic? Maybe they are showing off? Occasionally if your doing alot of weight I know that our bodies force out some noises but these people with all their various grunts, sighs, and snake sounds are completely obnoxious. It sounds like their hurling. Come to think of it, I’d probably rather hear the manly, middle aged woman rap along with Ludacris.
Ladies and their Luxurious Restrooms
I’m no stranger to bathroom humor. Nor am I a stranger to humor involving actual bathrooms. Like you, I’m pretty familiar with being in a bathroom. We spend so much time relieving ourselves during our lifetime that most of us are bound to come out feeling refreshed and are inclined to tell some great stories about what happened. So far, in my life I’ve spent about 2,056 hours in the can. I’m not sure if that’s including Portsans, Johnny on the Spots, and random places like Grocery Store parking lots, but it’s probably a pretty accurate count. (# comes Courtesy of The Toilet Calculator) Being the creator and proprietor of the delicious, refreshing, FĒC-ALE, (the country’s leading brown ale) I feel I’m qualified to break some new ground in Scatology.
I hereby DEMAND equality when it comes to men’s and women’s bathrooms! Women need to realize that their bathrooms are usually a much higher quality than your average men’s room. When I was a kid I was out at a restaurant with my family and for the first time I realized that men were gypped. Women’s bathroom’s are more like a spa and feature ornate décor, couches, lots of velvet, etc. Men’s bathrooms have urinals and toilets. One thing that ladies bathrooms lack, for the most part, is the intense stench.
A guys trip to the bathroom becomes a challenge to see how long he can hold his breath. Believe me, we whip it out and unleash as fast as humanly possible while cutting off all oxygen to the brain in attempts to save ourselves from instant odor annihilation. I’m not the culprit here because I won’t go take a shit in a public place unless it is a complete emergency. Let’s face it, who is getting all comfy and taking a huge dump in the bathroom of a Target shopping center? Not I! I reserve this offense for a place that I can be completely relaxed, either my home, or whenever I’m in a Tibetan monastery. To blame are the guys that are so proud of their shits that they don’t care if they violate moral codes of decency by smelling up an entire 10 stall bathroom.
Women have had a long, challenging journey to arrive at the point they’re at now. They’ve gained the right to vote and they have demanded opportunity for themselves in politics and the workplace. One thing that they are definitely ungrateful for: Their bathrooms. Women need to appreciate what wondrous, mystical, Holy lands their bathrooms really are. I’ve never spoke to a girl who raved about the ladies room that they just peed in. Why? Because they are so used to it. They take it for granted that they can actually “rest” on a couch in their restroom. Men do not have this luxury. We might as well use the public sewers or potholes in the street to do our #2’s. Everyone wants a haven to desecrate and I DEMAND that everyone should have that luxury!