This past weekend landed me in Williamsburg aka hipster central. As a graduate of Wesleyan University, I was already pretty familiar with the hipster but, whereas in the past such an individual might easily inspire rage in me, the new, softer, version 1.8.7 (not quite at 2.0 yet folks, sorry web entrepreneurs) I was straight up McDonald's.
One of the weekend's events, was an "international" kickball all-star game. I don't know how international it was, but there was definitely at least a team from Toronto. That's the thing, while some hipsters are stealthily tremendous athletes, these Torontons were anything but. Granted it's kickball and there can be speculation about precisely how athletic one needs to be to compete but, again, this was supposed to be all-star weekend. Fittingly the Williamsburg crew stomped their Canadian opponents.
Another thing that stood out in my venturing to Williamsburg was the free concert(s) at McCarren Park. Of course, the free concert isn't just a McCarren Park thing, but it was a very cool space. For instance, a couple of weeks prior I was at a free concert in Prospect Park. McCarren gets the nod for acts I was more interested in and beginning early in the day. Prospect gets the nod for greater ease of smuggling in booze.
The last, and perhaps greatest thing I noted, was the block party being held outside my buddy's apartment. It was just a bunch of hispanic family enjoying tasty looking food, blasting music, and having their kids run through the loosened fire hydrant. If you believe in reincarnation, then I think that I was hispanic in a prior life because I love the idea of having a huge family that hangs out together and on a hot-ass summer day enjoys the things that make you happy: family, food, and tunes.
And on that happy note, tomorrow maybe I can bitch about my favorite thing(s): the train and the generally thoughtless/selfish/jerkface nature I observe in so many of my fellow humans. Happy hump day (SFW)...
There are so many intelligent and articulate people covering the hard-hitting
issues in our country these days, that I felt it was my duty to cover the
rather inconsequential bullshit that tends to make up the vast majority of
our lives. Actually, I'll just be griping a lot which, if you weren't aware,
doubles as a synonym for complaining, and as a descriptor for
a sharp pain in the bowels.
doubles as a synonym for complaining, and as a descriptor for
a sharp pain in the bowels.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Still Love Safin
This Sunday was the epic Wimbledon final between Roger Federer, the Swiss superstar I dislike for no reason, and Rafael Nadal, the youthful genetic beast. It was a pretty tremendous match and I admit I was awfully nervous that last set-plus, wondering if Federer was going to pull it out. R-Fed is amazing, no doubt, and I am going to try to stop hating him, but it's going to be tough. I think it's not just the dominance, but the cool dominance. I just want a little more emotion is all I think. After his victory, Nadal crawled into the stands. Chances Federer does that? I'll go with a number rapidly approaching zero.
I am a Nadal fan, no doubt, but he will be no higher than second fiddle on my list of favorite players as long as Marat Safin stays on the courts. And why? Again, no good reason. Like so many other things in life, I just go with the vibe of the thing, and I love the vibe Safin gives off. He talks about quitting, he drops out of the Top 100, he beats the world's number three ranked player (and only other winner of a Grand Slam final this calendar year), Novak Djokovic aka Dontchawanna Chokdabitch. To be fair to Federer, I don't like Djokovic either, and I vastly prefer Federer. Heck, maybe it was just a couple of minor dents in his armor for me to start liking him.
No matter, it was a great weekend of sport, even if I had to watch Safin go down on a Friday and Alan Webb fail to qualify for the Olympics. I still love you Alan, and I have no doubt you'll pull your shit together and prove all the haters wrong. There will always be haters (see also my feelings towards Federer and, moreso, Djokovic) but I hope Alan knows he's still got bigtime fans. Dude's an absolute beast.
I'm also still riding the high of Spain and my man Fernando Torres winning Eurocup. Considering my native England didn't qualify, Spain was my desired champion, although for the sake of the Dutch, I was hoping they'd put it together a bit more.
We're also at exactly the one month mark to the Beijing Olympics. 8/8/08...some marketer probably rode that one to retirement. I have to say I am pretty stoked as there almost isn't a sport I don't enjoy watching during the Summer Olympics, and with modern technology (which I often bitch about), I could spend the couple of months after the Olympics watching shit I missed. And you've gotta love the Asian touch on the Olympic mascots (which are historically awful). So let's rejoice in the beauty of athletic competition and pray everyone's not on drugs.
I am a Nadal fan, no doubt, but he will be no higher than second fiddle on my list of favorite players as long as Marat Safin stays on the courts. And why? Again, no good reason. Like so many other things in life, I just go with the vibe of the thing, and I love the vibe Safin gives off. He talks about quitting, he drops out of the Top 100, he beats the world's number three ranked player (and only other winner of a Grand Slam final this calendar year), Novak Djokovic aka Dontchawanna Chokdabitch. To be fair to Federer, I don't like Djokovic either, and I vastly prefer Federer. Heck, maybe it was just a couple of minor dents in his armor for me to start liking him.
No matter, it was a great weekend of sport, even if I had to watch Safin go down on a Friday and Alan Webb fail to qualify for the Olympics. I still love you Alan, and I have no doubt you'll pull your shit together and prove all the haters wrong. There will always be haters (see also my feelings towards Federer and, moreso, Djokovic) but I hope Alan knows he's still got bigtime fans. Dude's an absolute beast.
I'm also still riding the high of Spain and my man Fernando Torres winning Eurocup. Considering my native England didn't qualify, Spain was my desired champion, although for the sake of the Dutch, I was hoping they'd put it together a bit more.
We're also at exactly the one month mark to the Beijing Olympics. 8/8/08...some marketer probably rode that one to retirement. I have to say I am pretty stoked as there almost isn't a sport I don't enjoy watching during the Summer Olympics, and with modern technology (which I often bitch about), I could spend the couple of months after the Olympics watching shit I missed. And you've gotta love the Asian touch on the Olympic mascots (which are historically awful). So let's rejoice in the beauty of athletic competition and pray everyone's not on drugs.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
iPod Nation
Starting this past Tuesday, and so far straight through today I have joined the iPod Nation. I love music, but for whatever reason I avoided the iPod until I was gifted one this past April. Leading up to this I'd been singing fairly frequently on my walk to work (sort of an advanced mumble-hum really) and I'd been getting some strange looks. So far similar instances while donning my iPod? Nobody bats an eye...
On my walk Monday I noticed an elderly gentleman (probably 60s, not that old in our modern world) struggle to open a door and exit a building while managing to push out his walker at the same time. Unless he had the presence of mind to back up through the door, or the wingspan of Shaq, this was not happening. So I did what I consider the natural thing, and opened the door for him. He smiled, thanked me, and was generally very appreciative. What bothered me was that, after I held the door, tow other people scuttled through, two people that could easily have opened the door before I did, especially as they were going into this building (which I was not). Discourteous bastards.
For a pointless photo, here's Mary-Kate Olsen drunk at a party in high school:

Moving on then, Jim Gaffigan remains my favorite comedian of the moment, so here's a sweet bit of his from Letterman last week.
I also feel compelled to share this effort from Ole-E and Wally J. "Booty on My Youtube." High budget and, more importantly, a serious effort. How many hits will I get if I put your booty on my youtube?
I'm trying not to make this a recycled link post once again, but I'm struggling to find a relevant way to reference this clip of guys putting helium in their jeans. My buddy Dan pointed out yesterday that they disproved this being possible on Mythbusters, but one of those dudes wears a beret. Do you honestly expect me to take you seriously in that hat?
Finally, as it is Olympic Trials week, I present the following article about a former Olympic Gold medalist who has flown under the radar for the past forty years or so.
Have a great long weekend everyone.
On my walk Monday I noticed an elderly gentleman (probably 60s, not that old in our modern world) struggle to open a door and exit a building while managing to push out his walker at the same time. Unless he had the presence of mind to back up through the door, or the wingspan of Shaq, this was not happening. So I did what I consider the natural thing, and opened the door for him. He smiled, thanked me, and was generally very appreciative. What bothered me was that, after I held the door, tow other people scuttled through, two people that could easily have opened the door before I did, especially as they were going into this building (which I was not). Discourteous bastards.
For a pointless photo, here's Mary-Kate Olsen drunk at a party in high school:

Moving on then, Jim Gaffigan remains my favorite comedian of the moment, so here's a sweet bit of his from Letterman last week.
I also feel compelled to share this effort from Ole-E and Wally J. "Booty on My Youtube." High budget and, more importantly, a serious effort. How many hits will I get if I put your booty on my youtube?
I'm trying not to make this a recycled link post once again, but I'm struggling to find a relevant way to reference this clip of guys putting helium in their jeans. My buddy Dan pointed out yesterday that they disproved this being possible on Mythbusters, but one of those dudes wears a beret. Do you honestly expect me to take you seriously in that hat?
Finally, as it is Olympic Trials week, I present the following article about a former Olympic Gold medalist who has flown under the radar for the past forty years or so.
Have a great long weekend everyone.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Link Parade
I want to apologize in advance for anyone who was hoping to read about sausages in this post. That said, I received a couple of emails recently saying that my update pace has been pretty lackluster so I went and looked at the previous months for some perspective. As it happens, after completing this post I'll have hit five for June, only one under the six I dropped in May. I'd claim writer's block or lack of interesting things to discuss, but as I always like to say, that has never stopped me in the past. Anyway, I've stumbled upon some sites I'd deem "of interest" in the past week or so, so I figured I'd just go ahead and promote/denigrate a few of them.
The first link I present is actually an old one entitled The First Annual Myspace Stupid Haircut Awards. Like real life, much of the basis of the internet is to appear as cool as possible. This generally is done in one of two ways: 1) try really hard to be clever and look good in photos or 2) try really hard to be clever by making fun of the people that do number one. In many ways the internet is just a long-distance and fairly up-to-the-minute giant pissing match. This is pretty hilarious to me in that the internet remains, by and large, anonymous. Am I starting to enter the hypocritical zone? Surely slightly. Snarkiness, which is apparently not a word, but henceforth will be in my lexicon, is the weapon of the tragically hip. The goal is to be as witty as possible and make fun of as many people as possible. Hell, here I am critiquing a site that critiques random people on the internet. Anyway, I like the sweet comparisons to Marvel characters and I have to say, with all of the ridiculous photos of people on there, I find myself wishing I had seen some of those people in real life.
Following that same theme I can't help but mention Hot Chicks with Douchebags. I can't remember what first sent me to this site a while back, but I did find it fairly hilarious. The commentary that forcibly uses the word douche, etc. gets old quick (for me), but it's certainly adopting a style, and they stick to their guns over there. I have the same sentiment about this as I do about the above link: rarely do I see such crazy-ass folks in real life. This tells me two things about myself in a hurry: 1) I am not spending nearly enough time in the hippest clubs and 2) I am getting old because I think things like "what do their parents think?" What I really wonder, though, is what these people do as their day jobs because a lot of time, effort, and money are required for these looks.
Still on this theme. Celebrity rag blogs abound and yes, I find myself reading them from time-to-time, but what is the deal with so much coverage devoted to random strangers who aren't famous? Still some pretty classic photos up on that site. Besides, this is all just a rant about hating my own nature. Sure it's bad that people post lots of stupid shit on the internet (see also: this blog), but far worse is that I spend time reading it.
Moving on, when I first went to Wingchicks I was thinking of some combination of women and buffalo wings. Instead it seems like an excellent escort service business model. Plus, you gotta dig the name.
Then there is Animoto, a site that auto-generates videos from photos and music you submit. As someone who is sometimes in the mood for a slideshow well-synced with choice tunes in the background and, at the same time, too lazy or perhaps just not talented enough to do it himself, this site seems great.
Saving the best for last, and my favorite, by far, is Something Store. I have been telling whoever I can about this one. For $10, they ship you something in the mail. Most of the items they show seem to cost well over ten dollars, so it seems like a great deal. Given the choice between ≤2.5 gallons of gas, and something completely random being mailed to you, I think the choice is obvious. Plus, I think we can all agree it's fun to get shit in the mail. Genius.
Lastly, a quick plug for the The Stranger, a Seattle newspaper I would otherwise ignore were it not for good chum BTB. Where else am I going to get my stories of the Mile High Club and disturbing tales of homeowners shooting strangers. For all of the efforts to make human-powered search engines these days (mahalo and the like), I've got my human-powered search and it's name is Bryan Bissell.
The first link I present is actually an old one entitled The First Annual Myspace Stupid Haircut Awards. Like real life, much of the basis of the internet is to appear as cool as possible. This generally is done in one of two ways: 1) try really hard to be clever and look good in photos or 2) try really hard to be clever by making fun of the people that do number one. In many ways the internet is just a long-distance and fairly up-to-the-minute giant pissing match. This is pretty hilarious to me in that the internet remains, by and large, anonymous. Am I starting to enter the hypocritical zone? Surely slightly. Snarkiness, which is apparently not a word, but henceforth will be in my lexicon, is the weapon of the tragically hip. The goal is to be as witty as possible and make fun of as many people as possible. Hell, here I am critiquing a site that critiques random people on the internet. Anyway, I like the sweet comparisons to Marvel characters and I have to say, with all of the ridiculous photos of people on there, I find myself wishing I had seen some of those people in real life.
Following that same theme I can't help but mention Hot Chicks with Douchebags. I can't remember what first sent me to this site a while back, but I did find it fairly hilarious. The commentary that forcibly uses the word douche, etc. gets old quick (for me), but it's certainly adopting a style, and they stick to their guns over there. I have the same sentiment about this as I do about the above link: rarely do I see such crazy-ass folks in real life. This tells me two things about myself in a hurry: 1) I am not spending nearly enough time in the hippest clubs and 2) I am getting old because I think things like "what do their parents think?" What I really wonder, though, is what these people do as their day jobs because a lot of time, effort, and money are required for these looks.
Still on this theme. Celebrity rag blogs abound and yes, I find myself reading them from time-to-time, but what is the deal with so much coverage devoted to random strangers who aren't famous? Still some pretty classic photos up on that site. Besides, this is all just a rant about hating my own nature. Sure it's bad that people post lots of stupid shit on the internet (see also: this blog), but far worse is that I spend time reading it.
Moving on, when I first went to Wingchicks I was thinking of some combination of women and buffalo wings. Instead it seems like an excellent escort service business model. Plus, you gotta dig the name.
Then there is Animoto, a site that auto-generates videos from photos and music you submit. As someone who is sometimes in the mood for a slideshow well-synced with choice tunes in the background and, at the same time, too lazy or perhaps just not talented enough to do it himself, this site seems great.
Saving the best for last, and my favorite, by far, is Something Store. I have been telling whoever I can about this one. For $10, they ship you something in the mail. Most of the items they show seem to cost well over ten dollars, so it seems like a great deal. Given the choice between ≤2.5 gallons of gas, and something completely random being mailed to you, I think the choice is obvious. Plus, I think we can all agree it's fun to get shit in the mail. Genius.
Lastly, a quick plug for the The Stranger, a Seattle newspaper I would otherwise ignore were it not for good chum BTB. Where else am I going to get my stories of the Mile High Club and disturbing tales of homeowners shooting strangers. For all of the efforts to make human-powered search engines these days (mahalo and the like), I've got my human-powered search and it's name is Bryan Bissell.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard
"Amanda Hates Nick Jonas." That's what it said on the blacktop outside of my elementary school, which I pass every day when walking back from the train station. At first I was thinking "why would they allow a child to write that on school grounds," especially when nicely juxta-posed with "you should always try to love everyone." Then the pop culture reference sunk in and I realized it pertained to The Jonas Brothers, the latest manufactured pop sensation. My girlfriend's ten year-old sister loves these bastards and has their posters all over her room. Frankly I wouldn't mind except these guys don't have crap on Backstreet and 'Nsync, in looks or musical talent. Hell, even O-Town is better. But some evil conglomerate keeps churning these out and the youth keeps eating it up, the youth that is, minus Amanda.
The day after observing this scrawl I found myself strolling through school grounds as per usual and came upon a mother and her daughter. At the time I am passing through, school has been out for several hours, so clearly this was an after-school function for which people were returning and the party I am about to examine in slightly more detail need not have been an elementary school student, but she certainly could not have been older than thirteen. As I am walking past, said eleven year-old (I know I said thirteen, but whatever) gives me a sultry up and down look that made me feel pretty disgusting and, perhaps worse, old. No, but seriously, what are they putting in milk these days? Actually, it must be something else, because I eat a lot of cereal and I'm not an overdeveloped, oversexed nine year-old.
Anyway, I'm writing this from the toilet and I don't want my ass to fall asleep, nor do I want to get to bed too too late, so my closing remark will revolve around my disturbing link of the day, which isn't totally unrelated to being checked out by seven year-olds [credit Dan on link].
Tomorrow (maybe) a list of some hilarious sites I came across today and in the meantime male readers go ahead and register your johnson.
The day after observing this scrawl I found myself strolling through school grounds as per usual and came upon a mother and her daughter. At the time I am passing through, school has been out for several hours, so clearly this was an after-school function for which people were returning and the party I am about to examine in slightly more detail need not have been an elementary school student, but she certainly could not have been older than thirteen. As I am walking past, said eleven year-old (I know I said thirteen, but whatever) gives me a sultry up and down look that made me feel pretty disgusting and, perhaps worse, old. No, but seriously, what are they putting in milk these days? Actually, it must be something else, because I eat a lot of cereal and I'm not an overdeveloped, oversexed nine year-old.
Anyway, I'm writing this from the toilet and I don't want my ass to fall asleep, nor do I want to get to bed too too late, so my closing remark will revolve around my disturbing link of the day, which isn't totally unrelated to being checked out by seven year-olds [credit Dan on link].
Tomorrow (maybe) a list of some hilarious sites I came across today and in the meantime male readers go ahead and register your johnson.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
I Love Sports
This past Sunday was a reminder of just that. I started it off by going for a run in the ball-dripping heat and then settled down to breakfast while witnessing Rafael Nadal beat the absolute shit out of Roger Federer. I've said in the past that I am not much of a Federer fan, but I really don't have any reason to feel that way. He's a gentleman on and off the court and his skills are astounding. Hell, I don't have any problem with Tiger Woods and he's a fairly dominant SOB.
Later in the day I had a rare treat as NBC televised the Prefontaine Classic. I'm always disappointed by televised track meets, and I think it has a lot to do with a commercial being inserted after every event, and distance events never being shown in their entirety. The commentators are also laughable as their knowledge of race competitors alone is fairly poor. Don't they have the start lists and someone provide them info anyway? Sure, track is a bit obscure in the United States, but why not have someone who knows their shit be a commentator? So it goes.
An excellent sporting Sunday was capped by game 2 between the Lakers and Celtics, with a Celtics victory being a bit of icing on the cake. As New England sports go, I might hate the Patriots, but this is a likable Celtics squad. It's hard not to like Garnett, Ray Allen is just about my favorite player, and then there is the lovable Rondo, who makes me think of the foot clan for some reason. Hell, I'm even warming up to Paul Pierce.
Moving on from sports, I will remind readers of when, back on April 1st, I wrote about the google April Fool's Day prank. Only, while google was joking, the folks over at Big String were not. As you can see from the link it lets you do all sorts of crazy shit like create emails that have a limited number of views before they are destroyed and even unsend emails. Apparently it's been around for at least three years judging from the date of that article, but I'm surprised more creepy and/or shady underhanded people aren't taking advantage of this.
Anyway, I'm going to devote my full attention to the fourth quarter of this Celtics game. But before I go I leave you with this Jim Gaffigan hot pockets clip. Kudos to the Boneyard for reminding me about this total gem and causing me to subsequently listen to all of the Gaffigan stand-up I could find. I feel as if I were to reach my apogee in stand-up performance I would fall short of Jim, but it would be in a similar vein. Hooooot pockets...
Later in the day I had a rare treat as NBC televised the Prefontaine Classic. I'm always disappointed by televised track meets, and I think it has a lot to do with a commercial being inserted after every event, and distance events never being shown in their entirety. The commentators are also laughable as their knowledge of race competitors alone is fairly poor. Don't they have the start lists and someone provide them info anyway? Sure, track is a bit obscure in the United States, but why not have someone who knows their shit be a commentator? So it goes.
An excellent sporting Sunday was capped by game 2 between the Lakers and Celtics, with a Celtics victory being a bit of icing on the cake. As New England sports go, I might hate the Patriots, but this is a likable Celtics squad. It's hard not to like Garnett, Ray Allen is just about my favorite player, and then there is the lovable Rondo, who makes me think of the foot clan for some reason. Hell, I'm even warming up to Paul Pierce.
Moving on from sports, I will remind readers of when, back on April 1st, I wrote about the google April Fool's Day prank. Only, while google was joking, the folks over at Big String were not. As you can see from the link it lets you do all sorts of crazy shit like create emails that have a limited number of views before they are destroyed and even unsend emails. Apparently it's been around for at least three years judging from the date of that article, but I'm surprised more creepy and/or shady underhanded people aren't taking advantage of this.
Anyway, I'm going to devote my full attention to the fourth quarter of this Celtics game. But before I go I leave you with this Jim Gaffigan hot pockets clip. Kudos to the Boneyard for reminding me about this total gem and causing me to subsequently listen to all of the Gaffigan stand-up I could find. I feel as if I were to reach my apogee in stand-up performance I would fall short of Jim, but it would be in a similar vein. Hooooot pockets...
Monday, June 2, 2008
Foester
Social networks are all the rage these days. They aren't wholly unavoidable, as I know people who have yet to succumb, and I envy them. If you couldn't guess from that statement, I am not in this group that seems like an ever-increasing minority(does that make sense? wouldn't an increasing minority become a majority?). Still, at least I'm only connected to facebook, right? And hell, I love it for the ability to keep up with a broad range of friends spread far and wide. But with love comes the capacity to loathe and I freely admit there are people in my friend group that I loathe. And in just the same way as I view some photos and think "wow, douchebag" (or slag, etc) I can't help but think anyone viewing my photos without context would think the very same thing.
The only real reason I mention it is because my brother was telling me about his buddies thesis proposal or something of that nature to complete his computer science degree. This was BF (before facebook), but not BF(before friendster). Friendster was kind of the progenitor of social networks from what I remember, but I could easily be wrong and Myspace could have been daddy. It wouldn't take long to find out, but I'm not going to bother. Moving on then, this guy's website proposition was for a site called "foester," which, just as it sounds, allowed you to track your enemies rather than your friends. It's perfect as we've all got those folks we "love to hate." Hell, it helps make Howard Stern and Simon Cowell what they are.
I had also meant to discuss how so often on the train it seems as if people wait until every possible seat is taken before someone chooses to seat themselves next to me. I can't tell if I look menacing, smell bad, or simply spend too much time thinking about it. I'm even fairly certain I may have made almost this exact same statement in this very blog in the past. Commuting and pedestrian traffic flow are oddly fascinating to me.
Anyway, it's time to slap on my aviators and play the douchebag roll I long to fill. It seems to have clouded over a bit...all the better...
The only real reason I mention it is because my brother was telling me about his buddies thesis proposal or something of that nature to complete his computer science degree. This was BF (before facebook), but not BF(before friendster). Friendster was kind of the progenitor of social networks from what I remember, but I could easily be wrong and Myspace could have been daddy. It wouldn't take long to find out, but I'm not going to bother. Moving on then, this guy's website proposition was for a site called "foester," which, just as it sounds, allowed you to track your enemies rather than your friends. It's perfect as we've all got those folks we "love to hate." Hell, it helps make Howard Stern and Simon Cowell what they are.
I had also meant to discuss how so often on the train it seems as if people wait until every possible seat is taken before someone chooses to seat themselves next to me. I can't tell if I look menacing, smell bad, or simply spend too much time thinking about it. I'm even fairly certain I may have made almost this exact same statement in this very blog in the past. Commuting and pedestrian traffic flow are oddly fascinating to me.
Anyway, it's time to slap on my aviators and play the douchebag roll I long to fill. It seems to have clouded over a bit...all the better...
Labels:
Facebook,
Foester,
Howard Stern,
Simon Cowell,
Train Dynamics
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