Still going...

3 straight days...3 straight days...still loading music on LaFawnda (I named her that because she reminds me of a buxom, lovely black lady). Best find so far while rummaging mine and The Fi's CD collection: "Papa Hardcore Mix" complete with 'Pimpin Ain't Easy,' 'Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta' and capped off by 'Double Dutch Bus.' Good times.

Hung out with Joey Fatone yesterday. Shopped for a matching shirt and tie for the young Polack for four hours and left empty handed. But good news, the wait staff at PF Chang's thinks we're gay lovers.

Dinner tonight with The Fi's boss and co-workers. Cross your fingers that the tuna is not on special, becuse then I would be forced to make an unfournate joke about an a-hole girl she works with.

I knew there was a reason I was marrying her...

I have entered the next generation...or rather caught up. Thanks to the generosity of The Fi's familia, I can roll around the country sporting my new 30GB, Black, Video iPod. It makes me want to bust a cap I'm so jacked about it.

Further Christmas-miracle topics include: Nino rode in on his stout Burro and popped the question to his Senora...The Fi scored a small bounty (enough to buy a beat-up Pinto) of Gift Cards to The Crap...My father tried 4 times to take a picture of The Fi's cousin's leopard-print thong she wore to Christmas (I'm not sure which part of that sentence is more disturbing)...The Fi decided 2:20 pm on Christmas day to alert my Catholic father and Southern Baptist step-mother "that she was not religious and did not believe in Jesus, therefore no elements of religion will be found in our ceremony," and yet we still got presents.

Tonight we dine on matza ball soup and latkes when Jewdom invades for the festival of lights at our first-ever hosted seder.

The Holidays Have Officially Begun...

The Festivus episode of Seinfeld has aired, Mr. Hanky, The Christmas Poo has made an appearance and I have no more work for the remainder of the 2005 year. Hang the mistletoe! Mazel! Merry Christmakkah! Where's the pole?

Bring me a shrubery...

This is unusual for B-Wal to go back to back with religious postings being that I'm going to straight to hell at no less than 20 MPH. But....
I was engrossed in 48 hours last night which delved into the birth of Christ and the history of Christmas. The reporter (don't know her name) was being led around by Prof. Wetherington (not to be confused with Mr. Weatherbee of Archie and Jughead fame) through all the key areas of Jerusalum. It was very enlightening and would have really converted me had I not graduated high school and lived in the real world for some time now. The greatest line from the two hour special came from the astute educator (or as I like to call him - guy who whacks it in mom's basement). It was a justification as to why he is called Jesus of Nazereth yet he was born in Bethlehem, like 70 miles away. The fabrication went as such: "Because they had to return to Bethlehem to register for the census."

...riiiiiiiiiiiiggggggghhhhhhhttttttttt.....

Christians, it is people like this man that have hindered your crusades.

Other revelations from last night (in no particular order):
-Jesus might have been born on April 17, year 6...wouldn't that be a bitch, they would have to move "Black Friday" to the day after Martin King Jr Day.
-One contrarian believes that the whole "Virgin" thing was not true of Mary and that she was getting shtuped by Joseph many times in many different positions throughout the holy land.
-Said contrarian also believes that the "Immaculate Conception" could have been a cover for the time when Joseph forgot to wrap his salami in lamb's skin...can you imagine using that one as an excuse today. "No really, there were no sexual relations with Joseph, the Lord has chosen me, a crack-addicted trailer park queen to carry his child."
-Also turns out Mary might have been like 14 when she had Jesus, which means Joseph and R. Kelly could have been really good friends.

I'm calling the ACLU...

Fuckin VH1. You think you are funny, you think you are witty with your one hour special, Jewtastic, looking into the essentials of the Jewish religion? You are not. We like flying under the radar of Christianity; kveching is a defense mechanism. Our vocabulary is not meant to be defined outside our world. If it were up to me, your c-list celeb panel would be blackballed from every seder this side of the Mississippi. Part of the mystique of being a cardholding Hebrew is the shock on someone's face after you tell them you're Jewish after they just made some anti-semetic, anti-racial joke. No, I am not a religious zealot, but I do take pride in the fact that my religion is confusing and silly to not only me, but everyone else. Plus, who wants to be associated with this guy in a public forum? Screw NSA leaks, Geraldo needs to uncover who has allowed the non-chosen one's an inside peak into our world. This is my wish to Hannukah Harry.

Deck the Halls...

Office Holiday Party is tonight.
Chances of saying/doing something crude/innapporiate after four 7 & 7's=pretty good.

It's at The Don which I've never been to...and also adds to the rumor that I can't go nice places. There's also the Jewish bosses that I have to impress. Plan is to make it known "how glad I am that it is called a 'holiday party' so that those damn Christians can shove their mistletoe and jingle bells elsewhere."
I will be wearing a Jew-Blue colored shirt and winking to make sure they know I am on their side. Is a Menorah tie too much?

Peach Pit cutline contest...

If you don't find any humor in this, never return to this page...

I thought we had a deal...

The Fi's sister ran over a squirrel. this is a first for me, I've never known a squirrel murderer.
On a related sidenote, I share the storied tale of Bucky, PES ESQ. As a child we had a cabin in N. Georgia which we frequented twice a year. Upon moving in, we had no indoor plumbing (no laughing, I promise we're not cheap; they had to hydrofrac...it's a whole 'nother story for another time). Anyway, we peed off the deck. I'm not scared, It's a true time in my development. I refused to partake in urinating after the sun set though because I was deathly afraid of a wandering squirrel climbing up the deck and chomping off my secret no-no parts. I would rather contract uromicetisis than have my twig and berries go for a midnight snack. For my 13th birthday, my parents bought me a plastic squirrel to place on the corner of the deck to "ward off roaming nut-grabbers." Thus my fear of squirrels and my congratulations to STBSIL for killing the bastard. Always keep a watchful eye for Bucky, P(enis) E(ating) S(quirrel), Esquire.

What did President Lincoln give us besides the TownCar...

It's cool, Brandon is back and the Pit has reopened. I was not in Africa giving goats to poor, hungry people (like a wayward friend of a friend) nor was I crying at the injustice that is FSU in the Orange Bowl.

I wish I was here though...

The Bullseye

Scene: Me standing in line in the express line (15 items or less) at Super Target.
The customer ahead has 20 items, I say nothing but huff so she knows I'm a little peeved. She makes me wait a couple minutes (touche) before asking if I would like to go ahead of her in line since I only have one item (she knows she is clearly violating). I accept and move ahead.
Sidenote-The new customer in front of me is an older woman in a jazzy. Memo to Target's ADA compliance officer, you are about to get sued because wheelchair bound bitches can't read the screen on the machine where you put your credit card in.
Back to the story. the woman, sorry violator, so kind as to allow me to butt her begins stacking her items when out of the blue (possibly noticing I have again made sure she knows I am upset at her item-count) says "It's ok, I'm a team-member." I knocked her cereal boxes down when she wasn't looking, that'll show her.
ps - clerk was deaf/mute. makes for a fun minute when he asks for your ID.

Celebration at the Pit...

Today is The Fi's birthday. Please join me in wishing her the best. I feel for the lady. Her day falls in the middle of the week. It is usually overshadowed by Thanksgiving. Her sister's bday is in the close vacinity. I don't have enough money to wisk her off to Fiji. And so on...But she ages with the beauty and wisdom unmatched by any other.

Too good to be true...

I guess Talan thought he had enough street cred with his GED alone. That, or Kim finally awaoke from her ecstasy-induced slumber...

IT'S OFF

In related news, Rod's still got The Bod that all the ladies want...and some incredible sperm.

http://et.tv.yahoo.com/newslink/13198/

Black Friday dawns...

It truly was a "Black Friday." The skies were clear and blue as the streets ran red with blood of hungry shoppers.
Though I was unable to find video on the net to share, my favorite clip has been running on MSNBC. There is an african american woman who is first in line at a Wal-Mart in Ohio (I think) who falls flat on her face as the doors slide open. The crowd rushes in and tramples the hell out of the woman who has ample chances to rise to her feet and get to shopping but has to slyly pick up her weave off the floor and reattach it. The runner up is the two men brawling over a laptop in Orlando while the crowd continues to shop around them.

On a related note further blackening the Friday past, The Cobra Kai again rule the karate tournament circuit.

Disney World Turkey Legs are the best...

In the true meaning of another glorious Thanksgiving, Brandon gives you his top 5 things he is thankful for this year:

5-The Fi
4-My super, ridiculous, model-like, outrageously good-looking hair.
3-The Skechers outlet across the street
2-The Uptown Bar (and the two Polish Anna's that run it)
1-Dwight Schrute

This is what it has come to...

It' official, Brandon's worlds will be colliding at The Fi's parent's house for Turkey Day. There is no amount of alcohol that could make me enjoy a Thanksgiving with a kvetching mom and an armed dad whilst my stepmother tries too hard to not embarass me. Throw in an 86-year-old grandpa who dropped the "N-word" two weeks ago on me and The Fi and you've got what I refer to as a 'hootananny.' The only saving grace is that STBFIL (soon to be father in law) buys classy beer instead of piss (see: Natty Lite and the Beast). I figure if I start tonight, my BAC can be well into the 3's by Thursday. In the spirit of the holiday (and because I have nothing to do at work) I have decided to cast my family as if we were making a movie this holiday season...
Me-Jason Priestley (duh)
The Fi-Neve Campbell (it's a sick obsession)
Dad-James Caan (Vegas Caan, not Godfather Caan)
StepMom-Cagney (or Lacey, whichever one was blonde)
Mom-Fran Drescher (a little less laugh, a little more Jew)
Grandpa (aka: Pop)-The dad from Forget Paris that reads the signs as they drive down the road.
STBFIL-The Bob's (from Office Space...he's funny but I always feel as though he could can me at any second)
STBMIL-Shelley Long (from Troop Beverly Hills)
STBS(sister)IL-Lisa Bonet(Cosby Show, not High Fidelity-and not black)
STBSIL's boyfriend-Keanu Reeves (as the BF in Parenthood, except smoking more pot)

A skank betrothel...Laguna Style...

Not only is she beautiful, she is also enlightening and rather witty...
In the words of the immortal Dude - "New shit has come to light." Thanks to The Fi's love of entertainment television, it was revealed this evening on Extra (starring the immortal Mark Magrath) that a one Talon, formerly of Laguna fame is engaged to a Miss Kimberly Stewart, daughter to non other than Rod "The Bod" Stewart. I guess he felt bad because of the car accident he was in with Kim, Stavros and Paris, bad enough...to buy a 5-carat diamond ring. I however speculate that the ring came from the Greek Shipping God who was repaying the GED'ed surfer for his favor to the family ("I'm the only one sober"). Which lucky Laguna hunk will he choose to be his best man? For Stephen, press 1; JWol, press 2; Trey, press 3; Deiter, 4; Cedric, 5. It is now quite apparent that Harpy's Top 10 list should be rounded off with: #10-Skip college, hang with porn star, marry Rock-N-Roll royalty.
Apparently, she thinks he's sexy and she wants his body.

http://people.aol.com/people/articles/0,19736,1131527,00.html

I'm just a caveman, your world frightens and confuses me...

I spent Wednesday in meetings...all day. The only saving grace was that they were in Epcot so when I was just about down and out, there was Mickey and his pals to turn my frown upside down.
One sticking point from the marathon day. I feel that as a society we have been exposed to the world of cellphones, and technology has advance enough, that it is 100% unacceptable for one's cellphone to ring during a closed door meeting and/or presentation. Escpecially, and I cannot waver on this one, if your ring consists of the Happy Days themesong, which I heard at about 10am while in the midst of an indepth discussion about research. They have signs outside and most of the time the discussion leader is kind enough to remind to put our cellphones on vibrate or turn them off. This is the reason foreigners think they can take over our world, if we can't turn off a phone, how are we able to manage nuclear missiles? Spread the world. Most of us are better than this.
-caveat: If your phone rings the theme song from "Greatest American Hero," your funny and you never have to turn it off. If your phone rings "Hollabackgirl," you should be shot on the spot.

Bueller, Bueller...

Remember when Jerry gets 2 hours to talk to his junior high school and has about 9 minutes of material? Brandon will be visiting his old stomping grounds on Thursday, except I've upped the ante by committing to 4 half-hour talks with my elementary school (about 150 kids total). My former teacher is ecstatic, the kids are ecstatic because they get out of class in the morning...I am fairly scared. My topic is: "The importance of school and applying what you learn to life." Uhhhh...I guess I have to speak about paying attention to what your teachers say and doing your homework. You know, the stuff I never did. I figure I can BS my way through about 5 minutes of that and then turn the convo to the importance of TV and watching it as often as possible, because that's what's important to a child's development. Brandon is open to any and all suggestions of ways to cover my ass for the 23 minutes and 34 seconds of dead air I currently have.

on a totally unrelated sidenote- Bravo to the geniuses that are Laguna's producers. They recognize when they have a hit on their hands. The Hills will be the most watched prgram on tv. Laguna looks like it might be a little more edgier (drugs, sex, fights) than it's predecessors. Standing O for MTV. PS: for the female viewers, guys don't EVER hug and say I love you...never, ever.

One for me, one for my johns...

Brandon's math lesson of the day...
4 hours of tailgating including but not limited too: Andrea's breakfast + 2 screwdrivers + 4 Coors Light + 2 Bud Lights + 2 sausages + chicken tenders from Bennegins at 10:30 at night = "I only remember that Mike Alstott scored a two-point conversion...and I have a shit-load of work to do today and really can't focus on anything for more than 10 second before my head hurts."

Damme he's hot...

Sorry for the delay in this posting, I was too busy getting ass-raped by Jeep for my “regulator” breaking and causing the window to slowly crawl down…But I digress.
I had my day made last night by Spike TV – Damme Wednesday! I kept an accurate log of my viewing which was the Reel Classic, Street Fighter.
9:02 – Van Damme, Raul Julia and Kylie Minogue…could you get a worse cast than that. I would’ve like to have been in the room when that pitch was made by the casting director. “No, I think the audience will have no problem with an Australian pop star acting as a military elitist.”
9:08 – Gen. Bison (Julia, aka: bad guy and leader of the feaux Cobra Kai) has created DNA Mutenagens. It looks like someone poured kool-aid into an IV bag of Dasani.
9:25 – Van Damme pulls the old “wear the bulletproof sheet with blood splatter and have your buddy shoot you” fake death. Why didn’t this man ever win an Oscar?
9:30 – We learn that Gen. Bison’s ultimate plan is to create a “perfect soldier” using said Mutenegens. I think if I had to hold hostages for $20 million, it would be for complimentary plasma tv's in every bathroom in the world...with full cable access, not that basic bullshit.
9:45 – We’ve hit a lull as they attempt to set up a back story and intro all the “ultimate fighters” that will save the world. I ponder…favorite Nintendo Games: (1) Contra, (2) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2, (3) Super Spike Volleyball (don’t discount the value of huge cartoon boobs when you’re 10 years old)…what’s the damn code for infinite lives on Contra?
10:00 – Score one for Brandon, the head US official is the monopoly guy from Ace Ventura 2.
10:15 – The Fi has become bored with my antics and recognizes Minogue is in the film. She begins to sing Locomotion. She then reminds me what a ridiculously bad movie this is and aptly points out that Steve and I probably would have skipped class to watch this 4 years ago.
10:20 – Bison’s ultimate fighting machine is unleashed. He’s a poor man’s Hulk, green skinned, purple pants, red hair…no lie. Apparently the Mutengens don’t make you any bigger, they just give you a bad tan and make your face look like you’re wearing “The Mask.”
10:40 – Climax is approaching. Van Damme is running through his arsenal – Flying Side Kick (A+B), Axe Kick (B, B), Roundhouse (A+up), Roundhouse (A+up), Back kick (A, A, B)…what’s the damn code for infinite lives on Contra?
10:50 – Gen. Bison dies, is revived by his Eddie Murphy-Raw red leather suit and uses his jet-pack boots. If I had jet-pack boots, I would’ve used that shit whenever I could. Need beer from the kitchen, no problem, be right back!
10:58 – Van Damme is victorious. It occurs to me that none of the characters are at any point in this film “Street Fighters.” And Van Damme is bloodless and bruiseless, he’s a god among men…what’s the damn code for infinite lives on Contra?

Holy Cow...

Brandon could have huge news in the near future that could ultimately affect the cosmos and life as you know it (similar to Bill and Ted's timemachine project). I can't discuss it now so as not to jinx myself or jizz on my keyboard at work.

On a similar note: I have decided that getting free stuff is the best feeling ever. Sure sex is fun and satisfying, but landing free shit is the ultimate. Some might say skydiving provides the best rush. How about shopping and then opening your bag to find the cashier forgot to charge you for the $80 jeans? Or getting a promo package at work with a free video game inside (which happened today)? Maybe it's the jew in me, but I can't think of anything better.

Laguna (Hot Sex) Beach

Here I was down on Jason and every stupid atom that he's made of when he executed (though unsuccessfully) probably the greatest move in the history of groveling for one's girl back. Did anyone else notice? He asked for LC's forgiveness and she stated that she couldn't trust him. But JWol thought ahead and planned his outfit knowing that she would counter with that point. He wore his throwback, black, O'hurley t-shirt with the word "Trust" surrounding the center icon. BRILLIANT! Too bad you suck at life Jason.
Furthermore, I have to come down on Mustang for supplying us with this farce. I don't know what kind of bugaboo reporter the Seattle Times has employed, but The Fi's 'People Magazine' disputed just about every claim that was reported in that column. I also heard a rumor that Jason will be playing baseball at University of Tampa this year. If I see him, I will hit him in the throat because I've always wanted to uppercut a punkass.

Don't throw me down Clark...

Saw the family Sunday. It was weird because usually I only have to see their faces once maybe twice a year when there's a holiday involved. This year, it will be thrice because grandma had to turn 82 and we HAD to throw a party consisting of pinwheels, chicken wings, a jello mold (spinach in lemon jello) and a rousing card game. I refuse to get into how screwy my family is because I will fight to the death that my squad is more wacky than yours any day. Point being, my cousin's wife (quick background---34, annoying, just had a child. Sidenote, this is my cousin's second wife, his first turned out to be a lesbian) engages me in a convo about how weird her family was and how she couldn't stand her dad and his side of the fam. Normal conversation? yes. But then she follows with..."Do you know what I mean?" I froze, it was a trap question with a possible inheritance on the line. I could answer with the truth and say yes in fact I do know, but then everyone around me would know how much I despise them or I could deny ever feeling my family was weird. I chose route C: Redirect the question and let her know that yes, I found The Fi's family to be rather displeasurable. It's what any respectable man would do.

Double Dare? I'll take the physical challenge...

Two entries from the Pit to take you into the weekend...

Firstly...Steve, I really thought our reunion special on Bravo went very well last night. The high point was seeing how alcohol has practically wrecked my boyish charm and the best thing I can do is wear a pseudo-goatee/mustache combo. It was also good to see Nat show up (I mean he did finally make it on the opening credits). Also, papa-Walsh sure lost a lot of hair and mama-Walsh's grey streak looked like she laid down in the road as the lane striper went by. But somehow, you my friend don't look a day over 28. Good times.

Secondly...mad props to the Pussycat Dolls for sending their career instantly into the toilet. You had us amazed at your mad skillz and sexy dance moves in 'Don't Cha?' but your sappy, non-sexually oriented song 'Stickwitu' stinks and the title makes no sense and frankly sounds like a household cleaning device. Did anyone else see this coming?

Wrap Up Special - cool site of the day TINA...FOOD

These are the days of our lives...

I have come to the conclusion that Chistrap Dickface, aka Johnny Douchebag, thinks he is Superman, or even the Ladies man if I could be so bold. How low must your IQ be to want to make out with the buxom, yet overly annoying, Jessica whilst LC stands watching? Furthermore, apparently the producers at MTV are doing a marvelous job of hiding cameras since the kids of the Real OC think they can lie about EVERYTHING that we at home, 1500 miles away, have just watched.
I could go on for hours about the downside to choosing Jessica over LC or I can direct your attention to the most revealing moment of LB last night...Ced's coming out party. For those who thought the man-hug last week wasn't enough evidence, I give you the Big C modeling a pair of Hot Pink undies at the Fashion Show (sidenote: Fight the Slide...come on kids, it's not a 12-round bout with nature, you're raising money for people who probably don't even need it. Perhaps if Trey were to cock his hat to the left, he would have thought of a better name.)

By a round of applause, how do you feel...

Ladies and gentlemen, please rise and join me in welcoming Steve Sanders to the Sunshine State as he rejoins his adolescent roots. (pause for clapping).

On a personal note...I think Halloween is dumb. No explanation as to why. It probably has something to do with dressing up and looking like a dumbass. Either way, I don't get it. But in the spirit of the holiday I will rank Brandon's Top 5 Halloween candies:

5) Candy Corns (keepin old school)
4) Bite-size Three Musketeers (only bite-size, the regular bars are too much.)
3) Whoppers (because they always taste stale, and stale things are underrated)
2) Kit-Kat (you can never go wrong here)
1) Bit-O-Honey (I would drink a bottle of honey were it socially acceptable)

1st Annual Peach Pit Cutline Contest...

Sent by a friend. I have no idea who these people are. Please submit your winning caption(s). The winner will receive a hearty handshake and a free virgin pina colada from the Pit.


Brandon's entry: "The cowboy hat came in handy as a toothpick to clean her teeth after eating her friends."

What to do with daddy's money...

Since her wit matches mine and because Brandon wouldn't even know where to to start after last night's (sigh) revelations, The Fi has blessed the Pit with this guest entry:

Chinstrap Dickface…where do I even start? I didn’t think it was possible for this joker to get lamer, but alas, he has proven me wrong. I can’t decide which is lamer: his poor excuse for a beard, his pick-up lines or his man-whore tendencies --- but I think I speak for all ladies when I say if a chin-strap guy in a splatter-paint bathing suit with white knee-high socks and black shoes came wrapping at my chamber door asking if I wanted to cold-kick it at his g-ma’s and g-pa’s house – I think I would have to respectively decline. His grandparent’s house? Show of hands of people who have used their grandparents house as a place to get some nookie...And why have we never seen his house? Maybe he doesn’t even live in Laguna. Maybe he’s a real-OC imposter.

Second thing worthy of note is the luncheon that took place at Casey’s house. I’m all for burying the hatchet – no one wants to get cut by some bitches post-graduation. The reason I bring up the luncheon though is for one reason only: the maid. Casey’s maid was in the full-maid gear. Peter-Pan collar, black button-up dress, etc – this is the first I’ve seen a maid in the traditional gear outside of a strip club or a Halloween costume. I had maids growing up, but they wore shorts and cleaned my tub. No one was outfitted in maid gear and serving up tea sandwiches. I’m all for formality, but a button down shirt and some black slacks should suffice. You’re a maid. We get it.

It was briefly mentioned by Kristin that Talan is getting his G.E.D. Again, I have to stress 'what the fuck' on this one. I realize academics are not exactly on the forefront in Laguna, but a G.E.D.? It’s not like you weren’t given every opportunity here Tal. Your mom’s hot, you drive an Audi – life’s not too tough, so would it kill you to crack a book? Even if you weren’t a straight-A guy and barely graduated, a hot mom like that could probably buy you into whatever college you wanted to go to. Good luck working at the Laguna Starbucks Tal.

And finally, let me address the scenes for next week. We don’t hear about Trey all season and he shows up for a weekend to throw a mudslide benefit/hussy fashion show? He’s too cool for the west coast all year, but hey, let me be a hero for the weekend and show everyone I still have a social conscience. Are they still wearing trucker hats in NYC, Trey? Because I’m pretty sure they went out with Kristin’s faux hair extensions. And The OC has no thoughts other than to take you seriously because your hat is cocked to the side. Were it pointing northward we would not let you back, but since it is cocked, we listen intently. Thank god Jessica's a hussy and makes a fool of JWol next week.

On a totally unrelated sidenote (Brandon here)...mad props to Scotty Pod on the walk-off homer the other night. With any luck you will have continued fame this series and Fox will invariably have to focus on your wife (Lisa Dergan for those unknowing souls) much like they did for Kurt Warner's poor excuse for a Trailer Queen, except this time we will pay attention and not cower in fear and vomit.

Sugar, we're going down swinging...

Day two...concert two. Three words: Fall Out Boy.
Get on the cool train, this band rocks. Sure it was me, my boss, Nino (designated Cuban friend) and 3,000 screaming 14 year olds at the Nintendo Fusion Tour...but I had a good time. So much happened and most of it is unstory-tellable so I will have to use bulletpoints to highlight:
-Pre-party took place at The Uptown. Leo was there but he came armed with a notebook. We'll come back to this later.
-Polish owner/barkeep is named Anna. Her daughter is also a bartender and named...Anna and could range from age 16-23, you can never tell with the Europeans.
-Gave the wink at the door at the gig, got in free. And no, mom did not have to drop us off or pick us up.
-I remember when I was 14, I remember what the girls looked like and wore when I was 14. They didn't look like this. All dolled up with their training bra as their only clothing above the waist. Where was this when I was popping pimples?
-I was asked by three different girls to buy them beer. I told them if they could tell me how old they were when the movie SpaceBalls came out I would oblige. No one had heard of the flick...I'm very dissapointed with today's youth.
-FOB played they're hit song third, rather ballsy for a group not named The Rolling Stones or Lynard Skynyrd.
-After-party took place back at The Uptown. For the first time, there was more than 5 people in the joint. Anna and Anna informed us they had to kick Leo out earlier because he fell off a stool. Leo left his notebook so I did what all nosey assholes do and thumbed through it. I couldn't read it (mostly because i was into double digits in beers) but it was a lengthy play or screen play with a lot of discription. Rumor has it Tarantino and/or Jerry Bruckheimer is involved.
-Also, we came about 10 seconds from me being in my first bar fight. Nino managed to piss off the only African American gentleman in downtown by screaming "yeah California...West Side" for god knows what reason (quick background, Nino is from California ergo his proclivity to shout such nonsense). Long story very short, turns out guy was pissed at me for laughing at what Nino said, there was no fight and everyone left in peace. Nino's best defense though was his explanation that he "was from California and if you listen I'm playing Hotel California on the jukebox."

Punk is the new black

In my everlasting quest to become a part of the punk culture I attended a gig last night. Four bands, 20x20 stage, beer, 100 people...sweet music.
The set kicked off with Scurvy, local hardcore mohawk wearing freaks.
Next was Brain Faliure, a 4-man Asian band (I know, Chinaman is the preferred nomenclature)..."(in broken english) We cahm fruh China to da US and play fuing puhnk music, dis is a sahng abouw cahmin to da US, is cah Cahmin to da US."
Third band was River City Rebels. I'm not lying when I say go see these guys. They're awesome live. A little ska, David Bowie and twangyness all wrapped into 7 drunkards.
Wrap it up with the Street Dogs. They were ok, nothing special.

Best find of the evening was this flyer in a local watering hole...

Now, I'm not really sure where to start. Not only is he a magician peddling his skills with a copied 5x7 piece of paper, but he dresses as a pirate. Also note he has family shows. Mind you, I found this flyer on a table next to a rack of shirts that read "I have the pussy, I make the rules." Also notice he is the Premiere Pirate Magician. Is there a Pirate Magicians Union I am not aware of? Feel free to contact Mr. Bones (notice the picture in which he is wielding a large rusted knife) but remember it's an illusion, a trick is something a whore does for money.

America's next top model...

Brandon's been waiting for this for a long time. Not since George Costanza has one man evoked this type of laughter. I challenge anyone to step up and find a funnier character on television than Dwight. It can't be done.

Brandon's perplexed...

It's not often that I find myself facing a paradox. I awoke today feeling the same torn feelings though. Why would the world be nice enough to let "Chinstrap Dickface" (again, The Fi's apt discription of JWol) be seen in public with LC? There are so many levels of sadness, happiness and utter frustration I feel at once. Johnny on the Spot called it right on, Stephen and Dieter have fallen so hard, so fast (plus packed on 25 pounds or so) that it is somewhat pathetic. Steve is also correct, what kind of game do you supossedly possess, that you would volunteer for grill duties...everyone takes advantage of grill guy and he has no way to get in the action until the action is drunk and passed him by. I want them to suffer, I want Stephen to regret every minute he sees LC nuzzle Chinstrap. But Chin/Dick doesn't deserve her. A pointed out very keenly that he possesses a third weapon now that is entire undefensible..."you're so cute." She knows she's cute and she eats it up with a spoon. He is Charlie Daniels playing LC like the devil's fiddle. Perhaps the grossest violation though was the chariot he swooped her up in. No seatbelts, no door, and he didn't offer to help her in until she made him. No one looks cool in a hotrod. Get a Stringray or a Mustang, that draws punani. Not your dad's gay hotrod. I have no closing to this matter other than Stephen and C/D must fight to the death and the winner gets to fuck Kristin thus leaving LC pure and unviolated, much like Glenn Close in the Natural (ps - did you notice LC wore a white bathing suit...very symbolic). The Real OC haunts me and makes me want to punch my tv.

on a side note...LC might have the most sweet-ass pool/jacuzzi set up ever. Great for parties or hooking up.

Does anyone else think Double S has a thing for Brian Austin Green?

How dare you...

TV went into uncharted waters last night. A little peice of Brandon died. I give you an hour of my life Grey's Anatomy and you disgrace my culture. He came to you in need and you let him lie lifeless on the table. Damn you all. He was the Rookie of the Year...he nailed Tara Reid before she discovered cocaine...he Cutaway with Stephen Baldwin...and he came to you to be saved. Damn you all. RIP Thomas Ian Nichols, I had faith the ladies would scoop you up with their pristine bosoms and nurse you back to health as maybe you become a semi-recurring character. But nay, you pass on. Bullet in head cheatin' mo-fo lives, but Henry Rowengartner is tagged and bagged. Woe is me...woe is you ABC.

oooohhh...it's a lady...

Steve, buddy ole pal...i saw "The Ladies Man" yesterday. She was with a blonde I didn't know, ergo, I did not speak to her. I would have had to run across the entire Old Navy store in Westshore to catch her and it could have been ugly. I did make sure to drag The Fi out of the sale rack and direct her attention to the register so she could get a peek through the jungle of socks and sleepwear in the concourse. She hasn't changed, TLM, I mean. I think that will go down in infamy as both your best choice and worst. It was also the 2nd greatest thing I've ever heard (but not witnessed) while lying in bed. The two chicks going at it below us takes the Blue Ribbon.

Leo the Lionhearted...

I made a friend last night. His name is Leo. Leo likes to hang out at the local tavern, Uptown, which I frequented for the first time last night. The only reason I know his name is Leo is because the Polish bartender screamed at him a few times to shut up and leave us alone.

Leo is a great man that enjoys his alcohol. The bar opened at 4pm, we were there at 6…Leo was boxed out of his mind and probably had been for the entire day since he woke up in a stupor following his drunken escapades from the previous night. I tried to have a conversation with Leo when he sat down in my friend’s seat and sipped on his Pabst Blue Ribbon. I couldn’t understand his rambling so I got up and walked away. Leo kept talking. In fact he had about 4 more conversations with himself throughout the remainder of the time I was there. At one point, he stumbled across the room and stared at the jukebox for 20 minutes only to return after making no selection.

The Polish barmaid whom we befriended explained to us (in a damn thick accent) that Leo was the brother a rich lawyer and son of a rich lawyer but had not had the same fortunes in his life and was “a little slow.”

“um, ya think.”

She then went into explanation how she had bought the place from the Bosnian mafia…I never knew that there were any European “families” in downtown St. Pete. Next we discussed how she was planning on purchasing 80s style tables for the place – “like The Max” I chimed in…it was lost on her, apparently they never got to see Zack Morris in Poland.

The Uptown is my new place, Leo is my new friend. You can find us there everyday after 5 pm.

Tom Skipper's Birthday...

Tonight is the holiest of holy days. Not because Freddie premiers but because Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement. From sundown tonight until sundown tomorrow, a good Jew stays home, fasts and goes to synagogue. As a part-time Wanderer I will be doing none of these. As the son of a horrible union between a Catholic dad and a Jewish mother I was able to grow up taking advantage of both religious holidays. Passover-NO SCHOOL...Easter-NO SCHOOL...Ash Wednesday-NO SCHOOL...Yom Kippur-NO SCHOOL.

Today I am more mature and feel that the world is onto my game. I have grown a heart and care about swindling the good people in my life. Plus, I really like food and ain't giving that up for nothing. The Jews did it right though, the Christians have give up something for 40 days, we take care of business in 24 hours...suck on that Jesus.

Sincerely, Brandon (I retain my Jewish heritage solely for the gifts).

Tuesday morning madness...

I no longer care about Kristin, she's heartless, gutless and a downright 'evildoer.' What happened to Jessica at Prom, did she and Jeff escape into a backroom and get busy? I DON'T KNOW, thanks to MTV. Furthermore, the coming attraction's show Jason on a date with LC. He doesn't deserve her, it infuriates me that "Chinstrap Dickface" (the Fi's apt discription and reason #425 why I want to marry her) will try to ifultrate her carnal treasure. Please LC, make the world right, don't allow J in your panties. Just say no to drugs and rich white boys who can't grow a full beard.

On a side note, the producers at MTV once again missed the story that would absolutely kill. Did you see the pre-prom picture session last night, did you catch Charlene, Talan's mom? That's your show MTV, MILF's of Laguna Beach, the Real OC. Oh the plot lines that I can envision...

Seems our good friend Brian thinks he can jumpstart his career after a 10 year hiatus. BAG, listen, if you couldn't make it with myself and Steve next you on the screen, what makes you think Freddie Prinze, Jr. is going to help? His show debuts Wednesday which blows since there's not really any good tv on Hump Day thereby giving him a shot to actually 'make it.'

Guess who's back, back again...

Brandon has returned home from his United States World Tour (sponsored by Coors light). Some highlights from the trip down from Chi-town:

use your vivid creativity and drawing ability...male, 5'10", 155 lbs, white tennis shoes, purple plaid flannel pajama pants, red shirt with the logo of a man flexing his biceps and reading "Welcome to the Gun Show" and to top it off, a cowboy hat. Of course I see him in the security line which snakes like 40 times so all 20 passes, I have to laugh at him and the girl that accepts being seen in public with him.

My favorite convo...Lady taking my bag curbside: "Sir, is your bag locked?"
me: "yes"
her: "well you might want to unlock it in case we need to search it after it goes through the x-ray machine."
me: "then what's the purpose of my purchasing a bag with a security lock?"
her: "(blank stare)"
me: "allow me to answer, so you don't go through it. I have clothes in the bag and it will remain locked. Should I arrive at my destination to find my bag busted I will blame you...Teresa. Good day"

I also arrived early at the gate so I had about 20 minutes to kill so I pretended to kidnap these two kids who parents were at the bar across the way getting a bloody mary and screwdriver at 9:20 am. My plan was to lure them with McDonald's then get them lost in the Duty Free store. No chance I would have been caught.

My Stupid Mouth...

Here I am enjoying myself in The Windy City. Last time I was here I was under 21. This time I’m over 21 yet can’t find the energy to drink. Allow me to take a few moments to share a few anecdotes:

The Michael Jackson of cab drivers---My comrades and I exit the office building and flag a passing cab yesterday to return to the hotel. I am from Florida, I don’t live in a city ergo, I am not a seasoned cab rider. The smell, I can stand…I am an excellent mouth-breather. The lack of English I can stand because I hate small talk and would rather sit in silence and pretend to be rich as I am chauffeured. But, the one thing that scares the shit out of me is when the driver starts the meter then reaches down and puts on his fingerless Huffy driving gloves. Upon further inspection I notice that the floor is covered with trash and the car has not been cleaned in about 7 years, yet his steering wheel is shined and sponsored by Ford with the special Jeff Gordon grips. I made it safely to the hotel…with my eyes closed.

Swirly---For those of you that know me, you know my hatred of public restrooms. I was forced to use one yesterday. I sat and took care of business as usual but apparently no one felt the need to notify the next user of that stall that the sensor on the automatic flusher was broken. I have never used a bade but I imagine it is similar to a toilet flushing 14 times in a matter of two minutes splashing water into places that it should not be at that time. I was scared I would be in a pickle because I couldn’t concentrate. I ended up having to put my hand over the sensor while completing. It was awkward and unpleasant and a reminder why I only like my restroom.

My Stupid Mouth---On today’s cab ride home (the driver did NOT wear gloves) we were driving through downtown when one of my esteemed colleagues pointed out a rather cool design that a building had put up on their front for passers-by to read. We all gave the, “oh yeah, that is cool.” I tried to step up my game and impress the fellow riders who are way more important than me and could have me fired tomorrow if they wanted to or probably killed. “Look at the building next to it, it looks like they have something cool too but I can’t quite make it out,” I exclaimed. Everyone stares as we round the corner and get a better view of the fabulous artistic expression on the façade made by lights. It reads “Think Pink.” No one said anything. I was silent for the remaining 10 minutes of the ride not knowing whether to laugh or apologize.

You are here...

Brandon's not quite World Tour continues Sunday with a stop in the Windy City. After two days in Baytown, I'm off. I have a special place in my heart for Chi-town and I intend to once again endear myself to the great city of Chicago in hopes that someday she will welcome me with open arms. Any suggestions of where to hit up are accepted and encouraged. And if you are thinking Ed Debevics, keep it to yourself.

This is what it's come to...

I go away for one week and come back to find that my Cubano friend Nino spent a night on the town with my intern. The results were an evening at Club Nino

It takes a minute are two to download, but I promise it's worth your time.

Rock and stroll...

I'm in Cleveland now, home of the...well nothing really. Unless you count transients. I visited the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I am very torn on it. If I had not gotten free tickets, I most likely would have been pissed. Since it was free, it seemed a bit cooler. Top item on display: Jim Morrison's report card from the semester of school he attended at St. Pete College. I was not aware such a legend lived in area at any time. Contrary to what the Fi wanted to hear, I did not have a vision of Morrison with any native americans. 2nd best item: The entire outfit collection from N'Sync "Certified as worn" during the video shoot from the No Strings Attached song where they are in the boxes pretending to be dolls.
Since I am a new-age punk rocker, I found the punk-rock exhibit riveting and enhancing. It...was...awesome.
As a side note, I choose not to divulge my occupation, however this trip has gained me legendary status. I have gained some serious street cred and my reputation is spreading fast. I am a no non-sense, red-ass handing sharpshooter. Don't mess with me or my associates, because i will smear your crap all over US.
(I had a sweet Sid Vicious Pic to go with this post but I am slightly clueless working on a Mac.)

The semi-real OC...

The adventurer that I am, I made my way down to Huntington Beach last night with come comrades. It's is almost Laguna Beach so I figured I could say that I have been to Laguna Beach. Go ahead pull out a map, try to argue with me. Anyway, after two hours, Huntington Beach is not Laguna Beach, or at least not what I see on TV.

We ended up at the Inka Bar. It's a very cool swanky place where E-F listers might hang. It had a groovy bar that was water colored under the glass, which is cool because everyone likes to drink on water. I was cool, acting cool, sipping the beer cool, even taking out my money cool. Apparently, if your rich though and frequenting Huntington Beach, cool is not a necessary quality.
Sight 1) A young man wearing a Huntington Beach shirt. Never wear the shirt of the town you're in. That's no way to get laid.
Sight 2) The Clapper. This is your new nickname a-hole. Instead of talking to chicks with a smooth line, you chose to walk around clapping to the beat of the music...loudly...until they turned and you could give them the 'what's up' nod.
Sight 3) An impromptu dance-off. Never have I witnessed three guys try to outdance each other at a bar to Missy Eliot and Ciara. I guess it's good that some fads never make it all the way across the continent.

In closing, Huntington Beach does not equal Laguna Beach, next time, we spend the extra 20 minutes driving down the PCH to LC's place.

The Real OC...

Brandon leaves tomorrow for Orange County. I've left Stephen and LC a message to see if they want to get together for lunch. I haven't heard back from either one yet. After that, it's on to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I'll try to take a picture with The Clash to sahre with everyone.

My Heritage

In case anyone wondered about how I made it through my childhood. I talked to The Wandering Jew (aka my mother) over the weekend. She was driving to Brandon "looking for THE Pottery Barn." As if that was the only one and I imagine a large red edifice.

Take me down to Paradise City...

I dozed off during Laguna Beach last night, not because of boredom but because of being tired as crap. From what I saw, Jason still licks balls and Jessica still wants to lick his, and actually might have though she vehemenently denied it...and she's a little meaner (perhaps conniving) than we first thought.
The stage is set for next week though. Cabo...Alex H...Jessica..."The Shake Up from the Break-Up." That's what I'd call it if I worked for WWF and was in charge of the Pay-Per-View matches...But alas, sweet Laguna, you whet my pallet and leave me thirsting for more of your succulant drama...At least Kristin's still a slut.

sidenote: Jessica has huge knockers for such a petite frame.
double side note: I was dozing but I'm fairly certain that the Sweet 16 that followed had something to do with a fake rich girl and midget friends. How come I never had amigos like that?

'Cause I would never be that cruel to you...

I stopped by Club Nino last night. By Club Nino I mean two heterosexual males sitting in my Cuban friend's office at 11:30 pm on a Friday night as he finished working. While skimming through his iTunes and listening to such classics as Da Brat and Bobby Brown, I found myself somewhat perplexed that I constantly forget mundane crap I need to do every day but I know every word to a 1990 classic such as 'Don't Be Cruel' and I have no problem recalling my 5th grade talent show performance of the song complete with Hammer Pants and some sweet moves. That was probably my finest hour.

Drugs, Sex and Rock & Roll...

I happen to catch the series premiere of Reunion last night on FOX. I felt I was ready to take on a new show on Thursday nights and this would be it. Ladies and gentlemen, let's give FOX a hand for reaching a new height. They tackled DUI, cheating with a best-friend's girlfriend, impregnating said girl, vehicular manslaughter, corrupt lawyers and abortion in the first episode. Bravo FOX. No other station, network or cable, would have the gall to approach today's youth with such poignant issues in a pilot. Your show is a bit confusing but I'll see you again next Thursday at 9 pm.

BBQ sauce in the bedroom?

Does anyone else think that the new Sonny's BBQ add is somewhat subliminal?
The master of fastfood barbeque, beans & franks and the best sweet tea ever would like us to "Pork 3-Ways" and not even "think about desert 'til you're done."

Scrub, rinse, and repeat...

What moron thought he could improve hand soap? I've been noticing lately (because I keep an observant eye for these things) that the restroom industry has developed a new way for us to wash our hands. Pink froth...I don't like it, not one bit. I can't feel it working, it evaporates off my hands and I leave unsatisfied. Bring back the good stuff. The blue lotion that sticks to your skin like greasy oil and lathers in my palms like a volcano. And furthermore, don't put a goddamn sensor on my paper towl dispenser that tells me how much (or should I say, how little) paper I can use to dry my hands. I live in America, I'll waste whatever paper I want to. Maybe you should trun your focus on things that really count in the bathroom like a no-splash guard or a self-cleaning toilet seat or maybe dry erase walls so I don't have to read about how some girls punani is so big you can exterminate all the Jews in it (seriously, I've seen this before. She had a swastica ring drawn in her you-know-what).

I relinquish my youth

One weekend and it has come to this. Joey Fatone and I reunited for a one time benefit complete with 36 beers, two tickets to the game, Hot Fudge Pop Tarts, a Dental tailgate and a Thunderbird. The result - I've had my fill. It was a good run. But like all things, it has come to an end. I hereby vow to never go anywhere I cannot sit and enjoy an alcoholic beverage. I hereby vow never to go anywhere that I have to show ID before I even enter the premises. I hereby vow never to go anywhere that I have to touch and be touched by everyone in attendance on a hot, muggy Florida night. I am not 18, I don't need a fake ID. I am able to purchase an alcoholic beverage and enjoy it on my couch watching my tv in air conditioning around people I like . I hereby embrace domesticity.
Awards from the past weekend---
BEST WAY TO KILL THE 3RD QUARTER: Joey Fatone pretending that asshole girl in front of us was his girlfirend...inlcuding taking a picture leaning up against her, totally unbeknownst to her.
BEST USE OF THE BACK WINDOW OF AN '85 BLAZER: "You like 'em tough, I like 'em rough!"
BEST BILLBOARD ALONG I-75: DOT trying to urge slow drivers to the right hand lane and having little comic book bubbles out of passing cars that read "$%#@"
WORST DECISION: Roast Beef with Ranch and Feta from Pita Pit after 40 beers.
BEST THEFT OF THE TRIP: Stealing a cupcake from a tailgate party for a girl's birthday who I don't know for Arvind.

sidenotes - the freshman class is remarkably sluttier, yet somehow highly unattractive...the traffic still blows...ITP got a facelift and looks only psuedo-ghetto.

Finally, the time is now

I'll be making the trek to Mecca this afternoon. I should have some good tales upon my return. Here's to our gladiator's rising victoroiously from the battelfield!

I'll be stoping at every Publix and Kash-'N-Karry on the way, as well as a stop at the Flying J at state road 52 to get ass-raped by the unleaded fuel pump.

Watching reruns of the Cosby Show and Full House

Nat,

I feel like poop today. I will not be into work. I am going to prescribe to the Steve Sanders method of getting better - lock myself in my room and drink lemon-lime gatorade and sleep all day. I should feel fine tomorrow.

Sincerely,
Brandon

Two quotes that made me smile last night

"Jerry, it's Frank Costanza. Mr. Steinbrenner is here, George is dead. Call me back."

"Tippy-toes, tippy-toes!"

All caught up

I dedicated myself to catching up last night. I now know all there is to know about living in Laguna Beach. Two things stood out from last night's Valentine's Day distaster. LC is right, V-Day is ridiculous in theory and absurd.
Point 1 - As my wise Fi pointed out, Steven is pretty, like Rob Lowe pretty. The women don't think he's attractive but are drawn to his aura. Fuck that. He's an ass and he wears a thumb ring (everywhere, in regular clothes and at fancy dinners - you can't have it both ways. In fact, never wear a thumb ring you anus-licker). Did he learn nothing from 'Two Ninas,' don't try and juggle two girls dude, you're gonna get your nuts kicked.
Point 2 - If I were to ask Jessica to map out a 10 year plan she would write down, college, law degree, marriage, house on beach, kids. Her reality will be a bruised right eye from an abusive husband, a cock in her mouth and an ounce of coke in her hand. To all guys, if you need a cute girl to toss around and have has your very own toy, move to Laguna Beach now. Though Jason is an a-hole in essence, he was man enough to talk to her in person and admit his faults. I would like to have seen more of the phone argument since it appeared she embellished most of her end of the story.
I'm pumped to watch Steven's two-girl paradise crumble next week. LC's way better than him. Have you ever seen a kinder face than hers, a more nice-to-know-you kind of girl?

Conspiracy Theory?

After watching the VMA's last night, I have come to a conclusion. Well, two conclusions.

A) I am about 2 years away from being too old to watch MTV programming. I find myself blushing with embarrasment for the human race when Bow Wow (I missed the part when he dropped L'il) is trying to act tough and compare "Ice" with Paris Hilton. The coordinator of that little skit should be shot.

B) I feel very strongly that Notorious B.I.G. is in fact still alive. He has come out with more new crap in the last 10 years since he's been dead thanthe years preceeding his departure. Now I know what you're saying, "But Brandon, I saw him get popped with a cap." Maybe so, but remember Joe Dirt - you gotta keep on keepin' on. And that's what Biggy did...ready for this...as Missy Elliot. I'm not even joking...look at the proof:

Put a wig on that kid and drop 50 pounds (which she did) and you're a reborn rapper. It makes perfect sense people. Diddy (p-poppa-pop-a-diddy-pop) is behind the whole thing.

"How can I mess with the world while recouping millions of dollars? Got it, fake kill my best friend and make him come back as a woman and sell a shitload of records only to reveal my master plan years later and make a zillion more dollars! Where's Farnsworth Bentley at?"

Reunited

Steve,

I am going to see Joey Fatone on Saturday. Should be a good time. While I'm there, I'm going to check on Chris Kirkpatrick to see if he is in fact hanging out with the band...again.

The run-in...

What's the most awkward thing that could have happened to me last night at 10:30 pm at work minding my own business?
If you guessed running into my ex-girlfiend who I haven't seen in over a year then you are correct!
I couldn't think of a more awkward place or time to have had to make small chat. She said, "congrats." I said, "thanks." (cue the crickets). Luckily, I was looking sharp and having a great hair day, hopefully further irating her. Plus, I gained future upper-hand on random run-ins by acting busy and saying, "yeah, I gotta go."

Best Bulk Email of the Day

A new re-occuring feature at the Pit where I share with everyone the best piece of junk email I have received today...our first contestant is:

From: Lynn Fitzpatrick ---- Are You Pimped With a Rolex Watch?
Why no Lynn, I am not. But I am sure your informative email will tell me how to receive one for free should I choose to purchase $2,000 of your cleaning solvent which is probably vinegar and water. I appreciate the "exclusive" offer. You are much to kind and know exactly what I need.

I know it's hot out but come on...

I saw a man today wearing a headband. Not a decorative Indian kind, but one that would gather the perspiration from his hair as to not sting his eyes with sweat. It was white, braided terry cloth with a snug velcro strap. This gentleman was not running, nor was he a runner-type who would be running later. He was eating a danish at Panera at 10 am. He did not do jumpingjacks to Panera nor was he clothed to take a jog around the parking lot when he was finished with his meal. He was reading a paper.
When was the last time you saw a headband?
I feel fairly certain there are only three people who can wear headbands: Nelly, Rasheed Wallace and Boris Becker (I left off Richard Simmons since i'm fairly certain it is surgically attached to his head, thereby not qualifying under the term 'wearing' ).

Have You Seen This Man...

Niether have the local police.

Cop: License and registration please...Oh hey what's up, Doc?
DG: Not much man, just coming from my homeboy's house that is in no way a crack house and does NOT have any alcohol in the fridge.
Cop: Cool man, listen you kind of hit that mailbox back there and your eyes are as red as a cardinal...could you step out of the car for me?
DG: No problem man...how about an autograph first? I can't use my pen since I hollowed it out for a crack-pi...i mean it ran out of ink. Do you have one?
Cop: Hang on I have one in my cruiser.
DG: cool man
...and scene. this is the point when the former AL Cy Young Award winner decided he didn't have a famous face and could elude a squad of policemen that have arrested him 5 times.
If he shows up at my door though, I would let him crash on the couch.

Text me like you've never texted me before...

Consider this a public service announcement.
Remember the old days when there were 1-900 numbers and hookers and tiny motels that you could rent by the hour? Then remember chatrooms and the advent of internet porn and webcams? Those days are gone my friend and the revolution has begun. You can now pleasure yourself while "texting" with "hot, girls who need a friend."
For me, this brings up a myriad of questions, the most obvious - how? I'm thinking if your a phone sex operator at least you have a raspy voice and can appear hot, how am I to know that the 'texter' on the other side is not some 45-year-old guy who knows how to type clit. And furthermore, I happen to be a two-hand texter. How many of us out there can text with one hand while giving a little how's your father with the other?
New Phone-Text Codes:
-WAW (What are you wearing?)
-NTGAT (I need to get a tissue)
-MMJWI (My mom just walked in)

Dear MTV

Every morning I wake up and turn on Sportscenter. When i have sufficiently consumed my daily allotment of sports I turn to you. I need you to entertain me and prepare me for my day. I enjoy the Yin Yang Twins as much as the next guy, but 20 straight minutes of guys with platinum teeth and their ho's is no way to arise from a slumber. On top of that, a double dose of Gwen Stefani makes me want to rip my front teeth out. But I am here stuck watching you because i am half asleep and cannot find the goddamn remote. Do us alll a favor and play more Foghat. Where's O-Town?

Call me DipShit

Today was dress like a dipshit day. For those of you who are trapped in deep denial that this exists, this rather unceremonious day occurs about 2 or 3 times a year when you a) have not washed clothes in about 2-3 weeks or b) washed everything you own and cannot remember what your outfit order is. Choice B was circled today and DLAD-day occurred for me today.

I would rather be the President and have to make the choice whether to flip the switch to start nuclear war than to have the option to dress like a fool…or dress like a fool!

I’ve got some good backups, but nothing you would ever wear voluntarily. I had to make the decision, do I take the risk and humiliation involved with a possible re-wear of an outfit I had donned mere days ago or do I call in a reserve. I mean, I’m sure I could convince everyone that I was reversing my cycle, but that’s a lot of work and a lot of storytelling to keep track of.

Now, I have taken the risk before and have come out successful many times but today I couldn’t bring myself to make the attempt. I mean, let’s be honest, I have a family to think about and my street cred is running pretty low lately.

After three minutes of deliberation, the jury returned and I emerged from the closet looking like this:


Now I know what you’re thinking… “wow, what an a-hole!” But the shirt was from So Cal and the pants were from The Crap, so technically it could be so cool and you don’t even know it yet. Chances are I looked like a dipshit though. Here’s to remembering what you wore a week ago!

Killing Me Softly...

I went and saw The Killers last night. The venue was the USF Sun Dome which contrary to popular belief could be one of the ugliest arena's in America. Anyway, The Killer's rocked and yes Brandon Flowers is 99% gay, but it's still a cool sound and there's nothing wrong with that. I have just two messages for those in attendance:

1) There's no sitting at rock concerts. Apparently, the students at USF didn't get this memo. I condone sitting whenever possible and highly recommend it if you haven't tried before...but not at rock shows. I have paid a good bit of change (or gotten free tickets) to be entertained and that does not involve you - "two-tone blue t-shirt" staring at me like i've just taken the Lord's name in vain at a Baptism while you enjoy the comfort of a plastic seat.

2) To the girl in the brown top and the denim skirt dancing with the dillhole in the yellow polo shirt and flip-flops. Everyone in Section L knows that you wore neither a bra nor panties. Your dance moves were unoriginal yet deeply inspired by the tunes in the air. Should you need career advice, I can point you to several establishments just down the road that will throw in a pole for free. Although I'm sure you had a good time throwing up later that night as your druk-ass boyfriend attempted to get it up, I will always hold somewhat of a grudge towards you for distracting myself and my fellow seatmates for the majority of the show. And yes that was me laughing at you and him for falling to ground several times throughout the evening.

Jesus is Coming to Tropicana Field...

That's what was promised. I was there, he wasn't. Urban D was there though.
Urban, or D as I call him, is a one of the new-fangled Christian Rappers.
And we all know how much Christ loves Rap, i mean look at how quickly he consumed the lives of B.I.G. and Tupac. Heaven is a lot better with a beatbox. I think my favorite part of D's show was his cross-bearing henchman breakdancing in the visiting team's on-deck circle. "Throw your hands in the air, show Christ how much you care..."

Let the games begin...

The Peach Pit After Dark is officially open for business. With any luck Brian Austin Green will be joining us live very shortly...