July 31, 2007

The Breakfast Club

In my former life, I worked as the world's stodgiest waiter at the world's gayest diner. One Sunday morning, I found myself hungover and hiding from my stupid customers in the kitchen. I stood indolently in the way of the cooks as they slung breakfast after slimy, reheated breakfast.

Eventually I told one of those cooks-- John-- to make me a pancake breakfast with scrambled eggs and bacon. Then I layered the bacon and eggs, along with some cheddar cheese, in between the three pancakes. I gave it to John, who said it was pretty good but awfully dry.

So John did what any hungover math major-cum-short order cook would do when presented with a ridiculous triple-decker pancake sandwich during the middle of his shift at the world's gayest diner: he doused the fucking thing in imitation maple syrup.

And it was delicious as hell. We gave some to the manager, who agreed to promote it as the daily special if we agreed to start putting the syrup on the inside, like ketchup.

"Call it 'The Breakfast Club'," I said.

We gave it a shot, but no one would order the damn thing unless I was there to promote it. It wasn't long before The Breakfast Club was a thing of the past. Adding insult to injury, that very same month saw the introduction of McDonald's's McGriddles breakfast sandwich to our neighborhood. The McGriddles was a hit in spite of its dunderheaded name, and I'm still a nobody. Bullshit.

If my friend and former co-waiter at the world's gayest diner ever reads this, he'll undoubtedly point out that I'm telling the story all wrong. In advance of these protestations, I submit the following: Fuck you, you home-owning, dog-having, married-getting asshole.

It's my fucking blog.

July 27, 2007

Infinite Toast

Last week, my brother and I decided to read Infinite Jest together. Kind of like a book club.

So far we've had zero meetings.

Anyway, in my excitement over forming our dumb little club, I went on Amazon.com from my office computer to read the first few pages. I guess this is a neat feature. What really amused me, though, was Amazon's weird list of "Statistically Improbable Phrases" that appear in the book. More than the opening pages, this list really got me excited to read all 1000+ pages of IJ again:

Statistically Improbable Phrases (SIPs):
annular fusion, medical attaché, entertainment cartridge, improbably deformed, howling fantods, feral hamsters, dawn drills, tough nun, prochain train, professional conversationalist, new bong, ceiling bulged, metro boston, tennis academy, red leather coat, soupe aux pois, red beanie, addicted man, magnetic video, littler kids, little rotter, technical interview, police lock, oral narcotics, sober time

My favorites are probably your favorites, too: Improbably deformed. Feral hamsters. Tough nun. New bong. Sober time.

Was this blogworthy? No. But maybe a string of unsatisfying entries will motivate you to turn your computer off and finally get around to watching R. Kelly's Trapped in the Closet.

One day you'll thank me.

July 26, 2007

Trapped in the Closet returns!

HOLY SHIT! This is the best news I've heard all summer.

Chapters 13-22 of R. Kelly's indescribable epic Trapped in the Closet will be released on August 21. If you haven't seen chapters 1-12 yet, drop everything and go rent the DVD.

I've never been more serious about anything in my life.

July 17, 2007


Writing a blog sure is hard. Perhaps I just haven't been pissed off enough lately. Here's a quick update on my boring life:

(1) I was recently shipped to North Carolina on a 4 month work assignment for a client.

(2) I was at the Pitchfork Music Festival last weekend. I stayed at the same hotel as De La Soul.

That's pretty much it.

Anyhoo, here's a good article about law firms. Maybe this will inspire me to finish my treatise on How To Become A Lawyer.

But probably not.

July 9, 2007

what's the deal...with zippers?

I walked into a public restroom the other day and looked at myself in the mirror. My fly was down again.

For a second I was embarrassed. Then I thought, "you know, fuck everyone else. For all they know I knew my fly was down and I wanted it that way."

Of course that wasn't the case and I quickly went back to being embarrassed.

But it got me thinking. Pretty much everything you can think of has been made into a fashion statement at some point. Popping your collar? Fashion statement. Jelly shoes? Fashion statement. Uggs? Stupid fashion statement. Wearing your clothes backwards? Fashion statement. Disgruntled Investor t-shirts? Theoretical fashion statement. Wearing your underwear outside your clothes? Bizarre fashion statement. Not wearing underwear? Not a bad fashion statement.

Wearing a giant clock on a necklace. Leaving the tags on your hat. Wearing flip flops to the White House. Whitewashed jeans. No Fear apparel.

The list goes on and on. But as far as I know, no one's ever made a fashion statement out of leaving their zipper unzipped.

I just wonder why is all.