An Actual Mailbag

Here's an email I didn't make up:

Man, I had a dream last night that you had taken flying lessons and you and I were flying around in a little, single engine Cessna with you at the controls. I was in the copilot's seat but I wasn't really doing anything except being amazed at how deftly you handled that plane. I'm not sure if it was the first time you'd flown by yourself or not but I thought it was one of the first times and was a little nervous. But you seemed really confident and relaxed about it. I'm not sure from where we started but we planned to land in c'ville and, it being my first time flying with you, naturally I had some trepidation about the approach and landing. Not you, though. We came down steadily and landed smoothly and you parked somewhere and we got out and went into the terminal. I remember complaining to you in the terminal that I was extremely thirsty – also true in real life as I consumed many beers during and after kickball yesterday. Anyway, you told me of your plans to buy a/the plane so you could just fly yourself wherever you needed to go. You explained to me that since you didn't have a car payment or car insurance to pay for, buying your own Cessna seemed like a logical move. The plane sat 5 comfortably so you told me to start thinking of places you could fly me and Emily. Then you suggested we get back in the plane and fly to Key West for some margaritas but I had to decline because I had to get home.

Man it seemed so reasonable and everything made sense. We were both really excited about the newfound freedom your learning to fly and owning your own plane would afford us. Anyway, you might want to look into it.

Adventures in Vegetarianism, Part Two

One time when I was in law school some buddies and I rolled down to Florida for Spring Break to watch some preseason baseball. We were tooling down I-95 in South Carolina when we decided to stop for lunch. My friends were sensitive to my absurd dietary needs, and I was sensitive to their desire to get the hell out of South Carolina as quickly as possible, so we compromised and decided to go to Burger King, where I could get one of their disgusting veggie burgers.

We decided to park and go in rather than use the drive-thru so we could all take a leak. I took care of business then sauntered up to the counter, preparing myself for the worst meal of my life. I smiled pathetically at the teenage sales clerk and told her I wanted a veggie burger combo.

She looked at me suspiciously. "You want a vegetable hamburger?"

"Yeah, a veggie burger combo. It's right there on the board."

I should mention this was a pretty rural part of South Carolina. I honestly think I was the first person to ever order a veggie burger at this branch.

The girl turned around and looked quizzically at the board. "You want a veggie burger hamburger?"

I stifled a laugh. "Please. To go." I told myself the ordeal was almost over.

I moved down the line and waited for my 10% post-consumer-content recycled bag of 100% post-consumer-content veggie burger.

Eventually another teenager maundered up and held out a bag: "Veggie burger hamburger?" he asked.

That's me. We get back in the car and I unpack my lunch. The fries come out first, which is reassuring; at least they know how to pack a to-go bag properly. Then I realize there are two packages at the bottom of the bag. I take out the first one, and sure enough it's my veggie burger.

The other one is a good old-fashioned, charbroiled hamburger.

Veggie burger hamburger, indeed. My best guess is the girl was so confused about what I wanted that she gave me one of each to be safe. Which makes some sense: who the hell would actually WANT a veggie burger?

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CERTAIN CLASSIC BLOG: Adventures in Vegetarianism, Part One

This is awesome:

clipped from www.slate.com A survey in New Zealand identified "vegansexuals." Definition: No sex with carnivores. Sample quotes from respondents: 1) "I would not want to be intimate with someone whose body is literally made up from the bodies of others who have died for their sustenance. Non-vegetarian bodies smell different to me—they are, after all, literally sustained through carcasses." 2) "I believe we are what we consume so I really struggle with bodily fluids, especially sexually." 3) "I couldn't think of kissing lips that allow dead animal pieces to pass between them." 4) "When you are vegan or vegetarian, you are very aware that when people eat a meaty diet, they are kind of a graveyard for animals." (Related columns: the case against eating animals; the case against sex with animals. To comment, click here.)

My only question: shouldn't these weirdos call themselves "vegetariansexuals" instead? Or do they not fuck anyone who eats dairy products and honey either?

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.
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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.

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.

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.

update

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.

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.

EXCLUSIVE! Certain Blogger revealed!

BLOGTOWN-- After months of wide-ranging speculation, it appears the mystery of the man behind Certain Blogs is close to being solved. Last Thursday, an off-duty cameraman working for the Charlotte, North Carolina CBS affiliate WNOG snapped the clearest known picture of the reclusive blogger, known pseudononymously as "Blogadier General".

After taking the picture on his cell phone, the photographer-- N. McCracken of Boonesboro-- was pursued and eventually overtaken by the irate General. During the ensuing scuffle, the celebrity blogger wrestled the phone from McCracken and demolished it, but not before McCracken managed to send a copy of the sought-after photograph to his friend Ete Packley via text message.

While the issue of Blogadier General's true identity is still a matter of dispute, authorities believe the photograph depicts one Thomas Lennon, an actor and comedian who recently starred in the box-office flop Reno 911!: Miami!

Lennon's possible involvement in Certain Blogs may come as little surprise to those familiar with his work. Certain Blogs's wildly erratic humor, half-baked social commentary, and utter dearth of critical and public acclaim evoke memories of Lennon's former television series, the 1990's MTV sketch comedy show The State.

Blogadier General, who isn't a real general, has been blogging since June 2006.

Certain Birthdays

Certain Blogs turned 1 today. It's hard to believe this fucking thing lasted past August and harder to believe I didn't have the decency to pull the plug around November.

What does the future hold for Certain Blogs? Probably 3-4 snarky, hastily written paragraphs per month. Everything else remains to be seen.