tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122425493442323082024-03-14T11:25:48.556-07:00Uncomfortable PositionsI do things you wish I wouldn't do.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.comBlogger111125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-4510107591265870582010-07-06T11:49:00.000-07:002010-07-06T11:50:25.979-07:00Oh, Naive Me, pt. 2I feel like I've been to Vegas so many times that I'm beginning to learn from my mistakes. There are a lot of don'ts: Don't play Carribean Stud, Pai Gow, slots that cost over a quarter. Don't order anything but beer from a cocktail waitress. Don't ride the lightrail. Also, I've learned you don't assume the strange woman talking to you is NOT a prostitute.<br /><br />But something I DO recommend are the Vegas spas. The last time I went, I had an incredible time in Mandalay Bay's spa. Cucumbers on the eyelids, free razors, free cranapple juice. Luxor's spa isn't as LUXORious as that (more like a YMCA), but it was a $7 entrance fee and the towels were warm. <br /><br />And I'm the only one in the whole place. So I take my space in one of three hot tubs and close my eyes. And in no less than 90 seconds I feel something on my toe. Through my eyelashes, I see that there is an old man sitting in my tub. And old man who is tapping my toe with his toe.<br /><br />Here's where the naivete comes in: I didn't assume it was a gay thing. I just assumed it was a weird thing, and I'm going to get out of his way. But, ladies and gentlemen, it was a gay thing. <br /><br />I shower, I use the free razor, and I hit the pool. <br /><br />But when I'm done with the pool, I realize I need another shower. And, you know, I paid for the whole day, and I like their free lotion. So I go back to the spa. That weird guy is gone, but there is another man in the hot tub. But I know better: I'll use the one he's NOT using. I hang out for a few minutes, I hesitantly close my eyes, I relax, then I jump out and head to the steam room. Which was a mistake.<br /><br />The steam room's empty and I take a seat on the top tier. Not 30 seconds later, the guy from the hot tub comes in, cranks the steam on so high that I can hardly see my hand in front of my face, and then sits right next to me. But fuck that, I'm not moving. So we play gay chicken for about 30 seconds until he knows I'm not feeling it (so to speak) and leaves. And when I feel that it's not too suggestive, I leave as well. For good.<br /><br />Search "Luxor" "Spa" "Crusing" on Google, and you'll find that it is THE gay cruising spot in a hotel that is THE premier gay hotel. That helped me come to terms with the whole thing. Because it's not that I'm the victim of some over-aggressive gay men. The fact is that I'm a huge cock tease.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-80820055127535687072010-06-01T10:11:00.000-07:002010-06-01T13:05:19.229-07:00Oh Naive Me, pt. 1Every day that I get closer to fatherhood, I get further from childhood. So in the few weeks I have left before I have a child, I've tried to binge on childish things. So I went to Vegas last weekend and didn't wear my wedding ring. You know, just to see if I got game. Not that I ever had any. Because even as a child I was too adult to do childish things, like have sex with a woman I'm not married to. Not that I was looking for sex last weekend. I just wanted to meet a girl, flirt with the girl, then walk away from the girl so I can imagine having sex with her. To my surprise, the women did find me. At a bar in Excalibur, a group of ladies literally did a 180 after passing me by. They weren't drunk, they weren't part of some bachelorette party scheme. Just as I began to feel good about the way I combed my hair and the styles that I wear, I find out what they're really doing: just some prostitutes wondering if I wanted to have a good time. I told them no thanks, I'm married.<br /><br />More later...Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-73616079767663988372010-01-07T12:37:00.001-08:002010-01-07T12:40:04.801-08:00DummySo, this story is predicated by two things:<br /><br />1) My wife sometimes thinks that I'm much smarter than she is.<br />2) The night before I was to cook the enchiladas she prepared, she warned me to take off the silicon top to the pan before sticking it in the oven.<br /><br />And so... (I'll post a picture when I get home)Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-74723052983903317902009-09-21T08:45:00.001-07:002009-09-21T08:45:54.449-07:00Two new Makin' Lemoades<embed src="http://blip.tv/play/AYGhvwAA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="320" height="270" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed>Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-75186602357498912792009-08-13T17:27:00.001-07:002009-08-13T17:27:57.034-07:00Article on Makin' Lemonade<a href="http://newteevee.com/2009/08/13/makin-lemonade-makes-the-best-out-of-low-production-values/">NewTeeVee.com</a>Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-15386773390979306962009-06-17T14:51:00.000-07:002009-06-17T14:55:30.062-07:00New web series!Starring the not-Chris Elliott, Chris Schneider. Written by me and Ben Bleichman.<br /><br /><embed src="http://blip.tv/play/AYGKiGSYiEo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="320" height="270" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed><br /><br />Go to <a href="MakinLemonade.blip.tv">MakinLemonade.blip.tv</a> to watch all 4!Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-68078311497481883612009-06-05T19:15:00.000-07:002009-06-05T19:30:55.312-07:00Poison controlI nearly killed someone today. My friend did some window shopping at my herb garden, curious about some of the more exotic things I planted. Turns out pennyroyal, from the mint genus, is deadly poisonous. That wasn't clear until after he sampled a leaf. My friend remembered how he'd heard of the herb--as a medieval potion used for abortions. <br /><br />We initially went to household remedies: all beer related. My friend's tongue went numb and he started shaking. Wikipedia told me how toxic this plant really is, but I for some reason was not telling him the truth. My frame of mind was to not get his heart rate up, and also to not ruin my buzz.<br /><br />The call to California Poison Control went like this:<br /><br />ME: Yeah, my friend just ate a leaf from a pennyroyal plant...<br />PC: Well, why did he do that?<br />ME: He didn't know it was poisonous.<br />PC: Yeah, it's poisonous. Deadly poisonous.<br />ME: Should we take him to a hospital?!<br />PC: Ah, lemme check.<br /><br />We held for seventy-one seconds. It sounded like this guy took this call from his cabin in the Sierras.<br /><br />PC: Well, if he just ate a leaf, he should be alright. It takes about 100 grams to kill an adult. He may have some bowel trouble for the next couple weeks though.<br /><br />So far, he's wolfed down a Subway footlong and everything, for the time, seems to be all right.<br /><br />And I'm getting rid of that awful, useless fucking plant.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-61340992914913654742009-05-09T09:32:00.000-07:002009-05-09T09:40:23.415-07:00Part it down the sideGot my haircut today, and those of you who are old friends of the blog know that I often have horrible experiences with that. You'll be happy to know that I've corrected my behavior. No more Supercuts. I only get trims from people who have facial piercings--the best of the best. <br /><br />This guy took a long time with my hair. After 25 minutes, he stepped back and said "There. Now your hairline makes sense." <br /><br />I replied, "Hey, this shop cut it last time." I remembered multiple occasions when I'd have to get corrective surgery on my head after getting a cut from...a deaf man with cataracts. <br /><br />"Yeah, it's just really confusing up here. You see," He pulled back my hair. "See, you're starting to thin on this side, but not on this side. But I just made this side longer so it evens out."<br /><br />Translation: I am balding in the worst possible way. I am balding from right to left.<br /><br />Maybe back to front would be worse.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-71001118434520355832009-05-06T12:27:00.001-07:002009-05-06T12:28:18.213-07:00Crappy HourSorry I've been so delinquent. More uncomfortable positions to come. Here's something I wrote. Sorry about the audio.<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_-wLQiAw9jQ&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_-wLQiAw9jQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-17271711523996625762009-03-20T12:14:00.000-07:002009-03-20T12:18:18.975-07:00Another commercial<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/m2hfYDf_xH8&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/m2hfYDf_xH8&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Starring the very talented Rob Ullett and Dani Repp. Shot by Josh Silfen. I wrote and directed it.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-9980703139007678202009-03-07T12:43:00.000-08:002009-03-07T13:32:23.824-08:00So You're Painting a Chair, Hey?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggvZmA0PghgP3XJRK45A0Jldv9wTWkLv7JoKaGtLI3ayMfDBpbIxO-KSs3uVpeteBG-10wsfe_HHYNHVLWcI7Au-aRm9_ftFjpqXw-yrVr66PgIITw9ucF9dd1C9XMFBn4uqgp8itX6mm1/s1600-h/IMG_1258.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggvZmA0PghgP3XJRK45A0Jldv9wTWkLv7JoKaGtLI3ayMfDBpbIxO-KSs3uVpeteBG-10wsfe_HHYNHVLWcI7Au-aRm9_ftFjpqXw-yrVr66PgIITw9ucF9dd1C9XMFBn4uqgp8itX6mm1/s320/IMG_1258.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310554143449119554" border="0" /></a>In my neighborhood, everyone's got a little patch of land between the sidewalk and the street, which is technically city property, but something that the homeowners are responsible for. And ours is a blight. I am literally mortified by its state, and I actually have such a major complex that I believe my neighbors look at it from their porches and scowl. They hate me because I don't know what to do with St. Augustine grass. I will only work on that public section of my yard during low-traffic hours in order to avoid conversations. And if a neighbor does come along? Well, I've got my iPod in, and...oh, I'm so involved in pulling out this weed! Or...oh! Boy, my peripheral vision isn't as good as yours, so I just didn't see you there!<br /><br />Finally, this bustling Saturday afternoon, I bit my lip I transformed it into what you see above. That's about a ton of Desert Rose rock. I kept my head down, I didn't talk to the dogs, I didn't wave at the babies. Then, as I'm spreading this rock around the space, a shadow comes over me. I can't play it off. I have to look up, and I prepare myself for some kind of scorn. I know, I know, I should have planted these cacti further from the sidewalk...<br /><br />"Hey, um, do you think you have a moment of your time?" Asked a chubby kid who looked a little like the lightsaber viral-video guy. He squinted so hard from the sun that it pulled on his upper lip.<br /><br />"Well, I'm pretty busy."<br /><br />"I just wanted to know...where'd you get this rock?"<br /><br />Oh, I thought he was going to sell me magazines. Now I feel bad. "I got it at Home Depot. There's, like, a ton here." Oh, he likes that.<br /><br />"Um, can I have one?"<br /><br />"Oh, sure!" I pick a small, rose-colored stone out and hand it to him.<br /><br />"No, um, that one." He points to a ten-pound granite boulder I have, one of a few I've got decorating the area.<br /><br />Now, is it a bad idea to give a kid a big rock? It's in that grey area between gun and scissors. I feel like this is a test. Like those neighbors are pulling a prank on me, or if it isn't a prank, that it's some kind of initiation test. They've got their binoculars focused on my perplexed face. "Did he pass the rock test?" they'll all be whispering. No one will come to our house for Halloween. Dogs will shit in my rose rock garden.<br /><br />I say, "Yeah, take it." <br /><br />He scoops it up, says thank you, and walks it over to a landscaping truck. The boulder is handed to the driver of the truck. They both get in and drive away. <br /><br />I don't know what to think, but I'm spending the rest of the day inside.<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uA_3MnVen08&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uA_3MnVen08&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-22516526743487587012009-02-26T10:12:00.001-08:002009-02-26T10:20:59.871-08:00Cold CerealA punctuation mark on the state of my exhaustion lately: I opened my fridge to get a mid-morning snack to discover that the Raisin Bran box was in there. And, of course, the milk was in the cupboard. Right where I left it an hour ago.<br /><br />Now where did I put that baby...Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-40704539364181546482009-02-02T13:41:00.000-08:002009-02-02T14:22:04.432-08:00Sun-sorship<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQBkasTZIKPM6A9IfBqLGP8gBTma7DgKJm5JwHHtvT32y7mqvcxegskd2We-9Zjh_bOqSYLyIin5XVZJa58QxUKFRZG5qcCYV9nQk3teQ8DYjQ8CVHGHLzttVyaOT0H3jTVXKmfuwUqudT/s1600-h/sun2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQBkasTZIKPM6A9IfBqLGP8gBTma7DgKJm5JwHHtvT32y7mqvcxegskd2We-9Zjh_bOqSYLyIin5XVZJa58QxUKFRZG5qcCYV9nQk3teQ8DYjQ8CVHGHLzttVyaOT0H3jTVXKmfuwUqudT/s200/sun2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298328048849540866" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyppIczzxceEMiQcJAznhy4mJmMZ-UlZQ7leL67a1u8jkhcvsE8gj_ANmEE1Mv9WAmR-05zjaqtGW8p0gVuC_j9JbXXCJd71jPE8h_7Ng6Fj2w93a6HzjV64WFydNWFxnABRoqElNIihC/s1600-h/sun.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 149px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyppIczzxceEMiQcJAznhy4mJmMZ-UlZQ7leL67a1u8jkhcvsE8gj_ANmEE1Mv9WAmR-05zjaqtGW8p0gVuC_j9JbXXCJd71jPE8h_7Ng6Fj2w93a6HzjV64WFydNWFxnABRoqElNIihC/s200/sun.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298328045485519202" border="0" /></a>A friend who works in mooovies was just contacted by the MPAA regarding a web clip, created for a movie, in which an animated cartoon commando sun shoots bullets of radiation into the Earth and then enjoys a smoke. Here's their concern:<br /><br /><p style="font-family: arial;">"Someone here in our office feels very strongly that the cartoon image of the sun with some sort of cigarette in its mouth, while it is wearing at headband and staring at the Earth after it turns into an orange, is a realistic depiction of marijuana use. Is that a "joint", or is it just a hand rolled tobaccos cigarette? Also, is the sun old enough to smoke?"</p><br />My friend, after clearing her eyes of tears, initially wrote:<br /><br /><p style="font-family: arial;">"The image in the animation of the sun includes a hand-drawn hand-rolled tobacco cigarette. The sun, while personified in the clip, still represents the 4.5 billion year old celestial body, which is old enough to smoke."</p><br />Naturally, my friend came to me for advice on how to speak to a government employee. Here's how I urged her to reply:<br /><br /><p style="font-family: arial;">"One, as a commando, the Sun would be forced to condense his supplies and waterproof them. Therefore, it would be more efficient for the Sun to carry flat rolling papers in one cargo pocket, and an air-tight bag of tobaccos in another pocket. Carrying a whole carton of Virginia Slims would be inefficient and amateurish. Also, it wouldn't make combat sense for the Sun to be smoking marijuana because it would obviously impair the senses, unlike tobaccos, which would make him feel more masculine and therefore more deadly.<br /><br />"Lastly, if the Sun is old enough to shoot radiation bullets into planets, he's old enough to smoke.<br /><br />"This is all very ironic, you realize, because with the amount of flammable gasses the Sun exhales, even smoking the smallest cigarette would engulf him in flames."</p><br />She went with her original reply.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-44155347801738215392009-02-02T12:17:00.000-08:002009-02-02T12:27:41.001-08:00Yo, SWA!Another spec commercial written and directed by myself and shot by <a href="http://www.joshsilfen.com">Josh Silfen</a>. This one stars Sokrates Frantzis and Ashley Cozine.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxpDrkZ-s0yCLqwxWFwoLVhsISxV7cljFK66wKqDl_M3HvRCY0ttZHIWZgw2i-qR6KSTTEXUIv1NpYnC09Z' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-4826926097299450612009-02-02T11:52:00.000-08:002009-02-02T12:00:58.001-08:00Midnight OdorI had a terrible night's sleep. It started at two, when the smell of our kitchen garbage woke me up from a dream I was having about being face-down on a roll of carpet padding. I went to investigate the stink, and sure enough, it was the kitchen trash--probably 80 feet from where I sleep. It smelled like chemicals. I considered throwing it out, but K doesn't like it when I walk outside in my underwear.<br /><br />I put some Vick's on to cover up the smell. Didn't work, though. I went back to sleep and had the following dreams:<br /><br />- Working in a microfiber-couch warehouse<br />- Wearing a poncho in the rain at a Boy Scout camp in Alaska<br />- Eating airplane peanuts<br />- Taking out the trash in my underwear<br /><br />I woke up with a sore throat. I took the trash out first thing, but the smell's still lingering. I'm beginning to think that my throat's the one who smells like carpet padding.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-84041077376280628152009-01-27T16:11:00.000-08:002009-01-27T22:35:12.290-08:00New video!Here's something I wrote and directed, with <a href="http://www.joshsilfen.com">Josh Silfen</a> as DP and Heather Lynn Morris as the superstar.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz9mANAlYdhVJQl7zdypscVTDr56oF6lzQu2LmAS2EyZ0GwprtOBHIpmaduNNvyAInX4PKehkNl7AUeRwpmuA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-78451637179105067842009-01-26T12:31:00.001-08:002009-01-26T12:42:33.193-08:00Where it hurtsThe first two (professional?) massages I've ever had were from women who were clearly nervous about doing it. The first told me that I had to keep this massage a secret because her boyfriend doesn't like it when she works on men (this was at a spa in Niagara Falls). On my second try, I spouted off a bunch of muscle aches I was having, to which she replied something in a Northern European language. But I decided to give it one more go today, since for the past week I've been OD'ing on muscle rub due to an overworked rhomboid (not the parallelogram.)<br /><br />It was great. Strong hands. Lotsa conversing in English. Good job, <a href="http://www.healingwithtouch.com/">Tamar</a>.<br /><br />Something was unleashed, though. On my drive home, struggling to find a radio station now that Indie 103.1 is gone, I turned to some goofy lunchtime show on a rock channel. And I could not stop LAUGHING at their inane banter. I mean "a-heul, a-heul-heul," Goofy-type laughing. Driver-next-to-me-watching laughter. It was a half-hour drive. <br /><br />Also, I think the massage broke my kidney. Which is funny because it is ironic.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-23479383486734694562009-01-21T19:46:00.001-08:002009-01-21T19:53:38.090-08:00Posse on BroadwayNo one outside of Seattle knows this song, right? Are there any other songs that represented a town, but never made it OUT of that town?<br /><br />Am I wrong, Seattle natives? You know every word, right?<br /><br /><embed src="http://media.mtvnservices.com/mgid:uma:video:mtv.com:157542" width="401" height="250" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashVars="configParams=artist%3D16256%26vid%3D157542%26uri%3Dmgid%3Auma%3Avideo%3Amtv.com%3A157542%26startUri={startUri}" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" base="."></embed><div style="margin:0;text-align:center;width:500px;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><a href="http://www.mtv.com/music/artist/sir_mix_a_lot/artist.jhtml" style="color:#439CD8;" target="_blank">Sir Mix-A-Lot</a> - <a href="http://www.mtv.com/music/" style="color:#439CD8;" target="_blank">New Music</a> - <a href="http://www.mtv.com/music/video/" style="color:#439CD8;" target="_blank">More Music Videos</a></div>Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-23234012844366869922009-01-13T10:30:00.000-08:002009-01-13T11:05:04.220-08:00Just a little off the middleLately, K and I have been discussing how we both think we're actually fairly stingy. We only buy on sale days. I don't mind drinking sour milk. K still uses her backpack from kindergarten. And I hate spending more than $15 on a haircut. That's burned me many times before, like when I didn't realize a barber had severe cataracts until after he gave me a reverse mohawk. <br /><br />Today I went to Supercuts. It's right across the street from a nicer, but more expensive barbershop, so I actually can debate the cost/benefits right until the end. Sometimes I splurge. Sometimes I save. The cars behind me don't like that. <br /><br />This morning's winning argument in favor of Supercuts was that what I'm really paying extra for at the other guy's is the intelligibility of the small talk. To me, that's like choosing an airline based on the quality of their food. I'd rather have the barber shut up so I can sulk at my multiplying chins. I couldn't do that today, though. This time, I was distracted by my Supercut barber's outfit: a knee-length, black t-shirt with the words "Special Sale $10!" This isn't particularly funny put into the context (which I discovered later in the haircut, after I had a quiet chuckle between myself and myself in the mirror) of a hair salon trying to sell eyebrow and and lip waxing at a discount. Signs advertising this were all over the shop.<br /><br />Which brings me to my uncomfortable position. Let's face it: I've got big eyebrows. I know it, my friends know it, and this pushy female barber wanted to make $10 off of them. After my haircut, she implored that I add an additional service.<br /><br />"Vould you like a champoo? Or..."<br />"No, I'm fine. The cut looks fine."<br />"Ve also have other serbices, you know."<br />"Oh, no, just the haircut."<br />"Vell, we're having zis sale all month."<br /><br />I don't think I can go back there now. And that's probably better for all of us.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-79106891859929981262009-01-12T09:54:00.000-08:002009-01-12T10:07:32.348-08:00Nose business<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2KI6DzAlJh0sa9xpIYeWaY1vB-6g-Xtt3tumbYkD1YEw0JZf1ZCNlveUvxTG2lZO491Qp75sNppUqRbF4HZjpZED_bMii4rcvphsOsAjs0ObsETXEI8c9BZCqL71t-Z5Zd9pNAfg_Jkv/s1600-h/Nail_in_skull.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2KI6DzAlJh0sa9xpIYeWaY1vB-6g-Xtt3tumbYkD1YEw0JZf1ZCNlveUvxTG2lZO491Qp75sNppUqRbF4HZjpZED_bMii4rcvphsOsAjs0ObsETXEI8c9BZCqL71t-Z5Zd9pNAfg_Jkv/s320/Nail_in_skull.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290469968713021778" /></a><br />A couple of days ago I discovered that I can put a cotton swab all the way into my nose.<br /><P><br />I think it's important to note that I wasn't just rooting around my orifices for a new party trick. I read about the secret nose hiding spot, THEN did my own experimenting. See, I think that makes me less weird. It's not like I was just searching for a place to put my q-tip.<br /><P><br />I was super impressed with myself, even if K only huffed after I told her about my new trick. Five years ago, I started to wear corduroys. Last year, I ate sushi. Now, I can stick virtually any 4 1/2 inch-long, non-barbed object into my nasal cavity. I walk intrepidly into the future.<br /><P>Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-83850592211819842112009-01-09T15:35:00.000-08:002009-01-09T15:38:49.321-08:00I need to Twitter these thingsPicture a street fight between two people where BOTH of them have tazers. Just a lot of short kicking and short poking. Hilarious.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-75301466737462925902009-01-08T16:10:00.000-08:002009-01-08T16:12:26.396-08:00Soft SellA man came to the door trying to sell me magazines. He asked if I was the "king of the castle." I said "No, this house has more of a queen and a prince."<br /><br />It occurs to me now that that isn't quite what I meant.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-83004023896130263542009-01-07T11:47:00.000-08:002009-01-07T12:15:34.007-08:00The classicsToday, I'm getting inspiration from "A Treasury of College Humor" (1950). Reading this book has solicited all sorts of leers from the writer folk at Psychobabble cafe. I feel like the kid in the lunch room who got a Hostess Cupcake in his lunchbox.
<br />
<br />From Robert Benchley's "Traffic Regulations for Air-Lanes" (1912, abridged)
<br />
<br />Examination for Urban Pilot's License
<br />
<br />This examination is to be taken while still on the ground.
<br /><ul>
<br /><li>Are you quite sure that you really want to fly? Remember--no fair changing your mind once you are up.
<br /><li>Do you have an uncontrollable desire to jump from great heights?
<br /><li>If you answered "Yes" to the preceding question, just what arrangement would you make for the disposition of your ship if you should give in to your whim to jump?
<br /><li>Aside from their characteristic noises, what are the main differences between an oncoming airplane and an oncoming sea-gull?
<br /><li>Does the term "flying blind" mean the same as "flying drunk?"
<br /><li>How many drinks do you consider "a couple?"
<br /><li>A ship, which is passing you, forces you out of your traffic lane into the path of an oncoming ship, which forces you up into the path of a descending ship, which forces you down in to the path of an ascending ship. What do you do? What difference does it make?
<br /><li>Name three popular directions besides "up."
<br /><li>On a rough guess, how high is "up?"
<br /></ul>
<br />
<br />Mechanics: Don't forget. Each one of these little instruments has its own special use, <span style="font-style:italic;">and only one of them plays the radio</span>.
<br /><ul>
<br /><li>The Altimer: This tells you how high you are. Don't look!
<br /><li>The Pessimeter: Tells you how low you are.
<br /><li>Gasoline Gauge: This will tell you when you have run out of gas. Another sign is when pedestrians begin coming up and peering into your cockpit at you, or a man rushes out and asks you to get off his lawn.
<br /></ul>
<br />
<br />Would this have been funny in 1812, 100 years before it was written? I mean, if the thought of human flying machines didn't simply terrify the British sailors blockading American ports. Will it be funny 100 years from now? I get the feeling that my grandchildren will not laugh at a single thing I do. Maybe I should get some puppets. That's the future, you know.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-52658021760506627462009-01-02T11:42:00.001-08:002009-01-02T11:45:24.350-08:00Day late. Dollar short.Every good idea has been taken. Some genius thought of <a href="http://www.buyahex.com/">this</a> before me. I thought of it today.<br /><br /><P>Has anyone considered putting an A-Team of MERCs to go after Osama Bin Laden and his $50-million bounty? Has anyone considered making that a documentary? I'm not counting Morgan Spurlock.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212242549344232308.post-87317976777311206362009-01-02T11:31:00.000-08:002009-01-02T12:17:39.502-08:002008, according to my iTunes"Walcott" - Vampire Weekend (24 on the Play Count)<br />"Re-arrange Us" - Mates of State (20 times)<br />"Send a Little Love Token" - The Duke Spirit (17)<br />"Buildings and Mountains" - Republic Tigers (13)<br />"Set Me Free" - The Heavy (12)<br />"MC Chris is Dead" - MC Chris (12)<br />"Time to Pretend" - MGMT (11)<br />"Furr" - Blitzen Trapper (9)<br />"Senor and the Queen" - The Gaslight Anthem (9)<br />"Bye Bye Bye" - Plants and Animals (8)<br />"Sex on Fire" - Kings of Leon (7)<br />"Resistance Street" - What Made Milwaukee Famous (7)<br />"Boracay" - The Little Ones (6)<br />"Wishing Well" - The Airborne Toxic Event (5)<br />"Grinding Halt" - The Muslims (5)<br />"Tiger Mountain Pleasant Song" - Fleet Foxes (4)<br />"Little Bit of Feel Good" - Jamie Lidell (4)<br /><br />I'll have to take iTunes's unbiased word for these. I can't believe I listened to Walcott that many times. But then looking at, say, The Gaslight Anthem song, some of these I don't even know the words to. And just seeing that Lidell song on there makes me nose hurt like I walked into a freshly bleached school bathroom.<br /><br />You'll be happy to know, Poetic and Divine, that I listened to "Kind Fate" (by The Wax Standard) four times. Beat out all my Michael Franti.Mr. Zerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03034469784327082232noreply@blogger.com0