The Devil's Playground

New Web Site

2006-05-30T06:50:00.000-05:00

Please Bookmark the new link if you were not automatically redirected. The Devil's Playground

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Sneak Preview

2006-05-25T09:25:00.000-05:00

Still working out some kinks, but click here to go the new site and bookmark.

The New Devil's Playground

Just about done...

2006-05-24T07:53:00.000-05:00

I am told that the new site should be up and running today. I am very flattered by the e-mails requesting posts, by the way. In the meantime, one more "repeat."

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Of All The Gin Joints

I have noticed a very interesting phenomenon recently. I was in Court last week and saw a guy from the gym. I have seen this guy three times a week for years and we have never so much as nodded at each other. Now, I see him on the Courthouse steps and it was like he just ran into the girl who gave him his first blowjob. I mean, the excitement... "Heeeeeey!!! What's up!... blah blah blah."

Now, this weekend, the reverse happened. I saw a guy in the gym that I have seen in Court for years. In Court, we have never said a word to each other. And again, he acted like we had not seen each other since 'Nam. (Shit, I was guilty of it myself).

It all reminded me of last year when I saw someone I had not seen in a long time in the airport. His eyes lit up. "Holy shit. Wow! What a coincidence! Blah Blah Blah." Yeah, what a fucking coincidence that two guys from the Upper East Side are at the Jet Blue terminal going to Boca to see their parents on Thanksgiving. What are the odds of that?! Better go play the lottery. Worse, this putz, who I have no interest in talking to on 2nd Avenue, now wants to change seats and sit next to me. Are you kidding me?????

Listen, unless you are an attractive woman, if we have had 1000 opportunities to talk and have not, please don't stop and talk to me just because we are in a different setting. If we see each other in the Galapagos Islands or at the Molly Pitcher Rest Area on the New Jersey Turnpike, it is a noteworthy coincidence. If I see you at Koi, you are just another reason I wish I was lying on my couch watching Quincy reruns.

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Almost Finished

2006-05-22T13:20:00.000-05:00

I am hoping the new site will be up by tomorrow. I suppose this all doesn't prevent me from writing something new, but, if you really want to know, I have been in a sorta wierd place the past week and I really dont feel like going on some rant that I am going to regret later. I have in the past (fortunately not too often) had moods like this where I went of on existential tangients. And nothing really good comes out of them.... So in the meantime, one more day of repeats....

Out of Office Reply: (no subject)

I was eating breakfast and sent out an e-mail to some friends about a funny story from last night (to be blogged about during lunch). I hear the click and open my e-mail. Ah yes, I forgot. Josh is in California.
-----------
I am out of office until Tuesday 1/31. If you need something right away, please contact:

Assistant Valerie Foreman at 212.555.6942

Co-Manager Terry Carter at 212.555.6655
-----------

I went back to my breakfast and peer over at the phone. I have to. I just have to.
Riiiing......Riiiing......Riii.
“Clear Channel. Valerie Foreman speaking.”
She sounded young. Good. “Hi. My name is Scott Stern. I received an out of office message from Josh Becker that said if I need something right away I should contact you.”
“Yes. How can I help you.”
“I need my apartment cleaned.”
“What?”
“The message said if I need anything right away I should call you." Trying not to laugh. "And my cleaning lady cancelled, and I am having people over tonight.”
“Who is this?”
Still serious. “Scott. I am a friend of Josh’s.”
She laughs a little finally. “You want me to tell him you want him to clean your apartment.”
I laugh too. “No. I just want it cleaned.”
“I’ll leave him the message on his desk.”
“Actually, can you call him?”
“You want me to call him on his cell in California???”
“Please." I begged her. "You have to.”
“And tell him...?”
“That Scott Stern called and he needs his apartment cleaned. Right away.”
“Ok.”
"Thanks."

It is presently 6 a.m. in California. I hope she realizes that. Actually, no I don't.

Editors Note: Yes, I really did this. I will ask Josh to comment and confirm since no one seems to believe me.
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A Cinderella Story

I saw someone I used to date recently. She introduced me to her fiance and it upset me very much. I was not happy, not at all. And this is not because I have any feelings for her. We dated a few years ago and it just never went anywhere. So why was I upset? Well, this guy was, um, lets just say he wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing fellow in the world. Nor was he in the best of physical condition. Who the fuck am I kidding? This guy has not been able to touch his toes since the Carter administration. And this upset me. Why?

Three words: Strength of Schedule.

For any female readers (and lame men) who are not sports savvy, let me briefly explain what this means. Lets take college football for example. There are many factors that determine where teams rank in the BCS poll. One of the factors is "strength of schedule." It is a bit complicated, but it works like this. If you play a team that has a really good record, that increases your strength of schedule. If you play a weaker opponent, this decreases your strength of schedule. The same principal applies to more subjective rankings such as the AP and Coaches poll. Therefore, if you beat a highly ranked team,you get "credit" and voters rank you higher, but if that team thereafter goes out and loses to some team from Idaho, it decreases your "strength of schedule" and the voters no longer think your previous victory was that impressive. In other words, if you beat a team that can't even beat a team from Idaho, what is the accomplishment??

Now, men have similar rankings. No matter how much we deny it, we all note the "quality" of people our friends date and have dated. As do people we are currently dating or may like to date someday. And if a person you have dated/married moves on from you and dates/marries a cross between Uncle Fester and Sam the Butcher (or, worse, gets dumped by them), it completely destroys your "strength of schedule". And the next thing you know, you are making up shit to explain why your ex is with such a man. Yeah, he is the heir to the Facactalovaros fortune. Greek shipping magnate. He has billions. Huh? He doesn't look Greek you say? He was adopted. Go fuck yourself.

So I am really pissed off at this "ex." Is it so much to ask that women I have dated and treated very well have the fucking common courtesy to date better looking men? I mean, let's face it, I don't need people working against me here. I am not aging all that well and whatever boyish good looks I once possessed are fleeting. Shit, Paige told me today that if my life was the NCAA tournament, I would be, at best, a 12 seed. (See todays poll).

I have, in other words, become Middle Tennessee state.

------------------------------------

UES Fit Club

So I opened my big mouth the other night and the next thing I know I had agreed to take a "spin" class.

Inside the room I see a bunch of bicycles. I don't know what I expected, but since they did not call it "cycling", I expected something more that a bunch of bikes. I asked the girls what the deal was, and they proceeded to give me the history of Spin. How some guy out in California invented it. Blah blah fucking blah. You mean it wasn't Ebenezer Schwinn??

Forgive me for laughing, but this was not exactly James Naismith inventing Basketball. And from what I can tell, if I am doing it on my own, listening to my heaphones, I am riding a bike, but if a guy is yelling at me to push..push..push...., I am "spinning." Um, oooookay.

Class was about to start and I reeeeeeeeeally had to pee. I was warned I was not allowed to talk or the teacher would get really mad. I whispered to Sheri, "There is an intermission, right?"
Sheri is dumbfounded. "Intermission?????" What do you think they do, serve refreshments?"
"You mean you ride for the whole hour without a break??"
"It's only forty-five minutes."
That made sense. I adjust the height of the bicyc.. I mean, Spinner, and hop on. Um, where are the peddles?? I had to put them on myself??? Uy. I, of course, couldn't get the little fuckers on, and the class was delayed while I was making a jackass out of myself and the teacher had to help me. They finally started as I was frantically trying to get my bigass feet in the stirrups. I finally got going and Sheri motioned for me to move my seat back, which I tried to do while I was still riding. Not working. I get off, move it back, get back on, struggle to get my feet back in the stirrups and, again, I am off. They are already on song 3 and I have not even started.

Once I got settled, it really was not a big deal. This was easy!! (Except, of course, that I immediately realized I should not have worn boxers. But that is a whole 'nother story) I looked around... Why are you all going so slow? Suuuuuuuckers. I am cruuuuuising. What was all the hoopla about?

I looked at them and smiled. Smugly. I was flying!! Sheri pointed to this knob thingy on my spinner and mouthed "turn it." Turn what? Huh? What are you saying? Restitution? Resi-who? She kept motioning for me to turn the knob. I turned it. Turned it some more. Oooooooooooooh. Resistance. Sheri smiled. Smugly.

Uy. I am in trouble. Biiiiiiiiiiiiiig trouble.

Five minutes later, I was fucking dyyyying. Then the teacher said to go to 60 percent, and Sheri motioned for me to me to turn the knob more. Fucking sadists. I pretended to turn the knob and nodded knowingly, as if I could handle this. She motioned for me to stand up, and I looked around to see everyone standing as they are riding.

As I stood and peddled harder, my foot broke out of the stirrup and I lurched forward. I caught myself by grabbing the handlebars, but they were slippery, and my hand slid up to the very top of it. And I came 2 millimeters from becoming the first person EVER to fly over the handlebars on a stationary bike.

Miraculously, I made it through the WHOLE class, even though it took every ounce of pride I had not to get up and walk my bike up these imaginary hills. And out the door. But I made it. And I was quite proud of myself, especially since people gave me as much a chance as making it through the class as Pittsburgh had of beating Indianapolis. And when they asked if I wanted to take the "Abs" class with them, I scoffed. It was only ten minutes long and I would be lying on a mat. How bad could that be?

How bad it could it be??? According to my friend Josh, the only way to describe this was to picture a flounder flopping around the floor of the boat after it was caught and waiting to die. I was also now, officially, the only person in history to fall in an abs class, and in the process, almost kicked out someone's teeth. Worst 10 minutes of my life, and I did just lie there for 7 of them.

But I still pretended it was all a piece of cake and, just to prove it, I agreed to take "Bootcamp" the next night. Now, while no one believes me, I was on my way when I saw a friend and she asked if I would come help her volunteer at a soup kitchen and then read to blind children over at NYU Hospital. Otherwise, I was coming, I swear. Over the next week, however, I did the stairmaster thingy where you use your arms also, and took another spin class.

I stopped by my friend's apartment to watch end of the second game yesterday after spending the day with my married friends and some of the kiddies (more on that another time.) As I was lying on the couch, I realized that I had not lost any weight around my stomach.
"I don't get it." I pinched my flab. "How could I not lose any of this with all the cardio I have been doing."
"All the cardio??? You took two classes!??"
"Fuck you. I even ran today after I worked out."
"How much?"
"A quarter mile."
"You ran a block, Scott." she said. "A fucking city block."
"Yes. But I ran." I patted my stomach. "You gonna eat that egg-roll?"

Tonight I am going to do this boot camp thing. I swear.

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Under Construction.....

2006-05-19T09:29:00.000-05:00

New site with new "episodes" hopefull ready on Monday. Here are a few more "repeats" chosen by my readers.

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SORRY

Listen. You cannot say "I'm sorry" within minutes of intentionally doing something. You say you are sorry when you accidentally walk into me; you say you are sorry when you spill your drink on me; you say you are sorry when your teeth... well, you get the point. But when you stick your foot in the elevator as it is closing and hold me up, you cannot say you are sorry. Did your foot slip?

No. You are a selfish bastard. There are 10 elevators on the ground floor. You know they come every second. Yet you had to get in this one? You are not sorry. Sorry implies regret or remorse. You saw me here. You knew what you were doing. You are not sorry. If you were really sorry, you would not have done it. And now, one by one, people are getting in as the door is closing. They press every floor below me. I had an express, you douchebag. Now, I am not only squished in among 6 people, but two of them are cackling loudly over a story that Sheila from accounting told them. The guy next to me is hacking up one of his lungs.

I glared at him, he looked away. He got out the floor below me and I gave serious thought about punting him out of the elevator as he started getting out. Of course, I would have said "I'm sorry."

Next time someone shoves their foot in an elevator and holds me up, I'm shoving my foot up your ass. You have been warned.

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Clean Slate

Aside from anniversaries and b-days, there are a few random days each year where we remember exactly where we were and/or what happened on that same day one year earlier. It is not a date that becomes relevant forever, but you remember it at least the first time it comes up again.

Last year on Yom Kipper (for you non-jews out there, our day where we atone for our sins) I had a conversation with someone. We both agreed we had done some things we were not proud of in the past year, and had each ended a relationship with someone in a way that was, at the very least, cowardly. We both had a tendency to "disappear." We "atoned" for this sin and swore we would not do it anymore, and definitely would never do that to each other.

I then said something that I have thought about so many times since then. I said to her that I would rather get "broken up" with then end a relationship myself. I could handle being hurt, but it killed me when I hurt someone else. If that was not enough, I said that maybe it was time I got kicked in the ass by a woman. It would be good for me. (Someone commented yesterday that I might be an "arrogant prick." You know what, looking back, that was an arrogant thing to say. But any arrogance I may have had disappeared when this relationship ended.)

This person ultimately "broke up" with me. And this was certainly a "be careful what you wished for" situation because I cannot imagine how this was better then me being the one ending it. What was I thinking?? Did I also say this would be good for me??

Anyway, I thought about this a lot on the train ride home from Connecticut, where I broke the fast. I thought about the past year of my life. I thought about what I had learned and how I had grown. I thought about what I had failed to learn and where I had not grown. I came to so many realizations about how much the last year had changed me and, unfortunately, about how many ways I had not changed at all. Relationships, even when you look back on them, have such an amazing way of holding a mirror up to yourself. It is so much easier to think you are perfect when you are unattached to anyone.

Well, enough about that crap..... On a lighter note, after I ate last night, I called my parents in Florida. They both got to their respective phones so they could simultaneously listen as I strangled the phone cord around my neck. I took role call to make sure they were both present and tried to have a pleasant conversation. My dad is back to playing golf after the surgery, my mother talked about my nephew and how my cousin Cletus just moved to another trailer park. All questions about my life were easily deflected. Then I went and fucked everything up.

I sneezed.

At this point, you could almost see my mom jump off the couch, arms and elbows extended out as if she was boxing out Shaquile O' Neal from getting a rebound. My dad started to say something and she silenced him. "STEP AWAY FROM THE PHONE JOEL. STEP... AWAY... FROM... THE.... PHONE."
Having regained her composure, mom said, "What's wrong?"
My thumb and middle finger dug into my temples. "Mah. Nothing is wrong."
"I did not like the sound of that sneeze."
I know I shouldn't tease her, but, "Would you like me to sneeze the alphabet next time?"
She ignored me. "What else hurts you?"
Shaking my head in disbelief, but almost laughing. "Nothing Mah. I have a cold. I am fine."
"Have you been reading about this bird flu? Don't touch any birds. Stay away from them."
Unbeknownst to us, my father picked the phone up again. "A python ate a WHOLE turkey today. A WHOLE, LIVE turkey. Can you believe that??"
"Great dad. Just great."
Mom continued. "Scott, I am not joking."
"Mom. I don't have the bird flu. I have a cold. And now I have to go."
"Are you drinking lots of liquids?"
"No. I am fasting."
"Listen, you are allowed to take medications if you are really sick. That doesn't count."
"What doesn't count?"
"If you drink juice."
Don't say anything..Don't say anything. Don't say anything. "According to who???"
"It just doesn't. If you have a health emergency, you can attend to it and it doesn't count."
"A Health emergency?? I fucking sneezed. I did not just have open heart surgery. I am not in end stage renal failure. I sneezed."
Unfazed and annoyed, she continued. "You can drink juice or have tea. It doesn't count."
"You been reading up on the torah lately? Going to Schul on the weekends? Doesn't count to who? Are you going to write me a note and say I still fasted even though I had some orange juice, signed Sterns mother?" I wondered if I paid for my tickets for Thanksgiving yet. Yep. Fuck. "I don't have spinal meningitis. I SNEEZED!"
"You are impossible!"
"No. I am just saying that, while I am not a religious man, when I smack my lips after downing a quart of OJ, I'm thinking I lost all credit for this fast."
Then she played the trump card. "Fine. Do what you want, you never listen to me anyway."
I could not do this anymore. I conceded defeat. And proceeded to pour myself not one, but two, Greygoose OJs and hurled myself onto the couch.

Told you that woman could drive me to drink.

SS

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Still Under Construction

2006-05-18T07:32:00.000-05:00

Will try and have a new post later as construction continues....

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Practicing Safe Sex

Although abstinence and condoms are the best way of preventing HIV/Aids, there are a lot of general safer sex rules that one should follow. There are also many other ways to enjoy sex besides intercourse and oral sex.

* Avoid all high-risk sex practices such as vaginal, anal and oral sex without a condom. Avoid casual sex with a commercial sex worker (prostitute), sex with a partner who shares needles and syringes with other drug users, and sex with a person whose sexual history is unknown.

------ (My take) It is, however, ok to have sex with a drug addicted prostitute (aka "commercial sex worker") as long as you are in some form of a relationship with her, she buys her own needles, and keeps a journal detailing every person she ever fucked.

* Never allow semen, vaginal fluids, blood or menstrual blood to come into contact or enter the vagina, anus, penis, mouth or broken skin.

------ Um, what is left? I suppose a man could cum in a woman's nostril. And, I gotta tell ya, that menstrual blood in a man's anus makes for quite a visual. Must be quite a limber couple.

* Wash your hands with soap and water if they have been in contact with semen or other body fluids.

------ Fuck. I've been using laundry detergent and orange juice all these years.

* Rinse your mouth with cold (not hot) water if in contact with semen and don't brush your teeth immediately afterwards (a toothbrush can cause damage and bleeding - an easy entrance for the virus).

------ Um, can she at least get on some Scope before she comes back to bed?

* Avoid sex when either partner has open sores on the genitals or any sexually transmitted infections (STIs).

------ I think if you have just, for the first time, realized you shouldn't be going down on someone with blood and puss ozzing from their respective genitals, this article may have come a liiiiiiiiiiitle late to be of any use to you. (I just lost five readers and 9 advertisers on that last one, didn't I).

* Avoid anal or rough vaginal intercourse. Do not do anything that could tear the skin or moist lining of the genitals, anus or mouth and cause bleeding.

------ I just checked again. Is it only me who missing a moist lining down there?

* Do not perform oral sex when you have a cold, a sore throat, open sores in your mouth or if you have brushed your teeth in the few hours before intended oral sex. Avoid oral sex if there are sores on your partner's genitals.

----- Interesting. The authors felt that the "don't suck a dick with open sores on it" rule needed repeating. Apparantly, the message really hasn't gotten though to people. And I think the "wait two hours after brushing" was written by someone close to my grandmother, who, legend has it, came up with the "no swimming until an hour after you eat" rule. I wonder what would happen if I ate a huge meal, brushed my teeth, then twently minutes later went down on a woman in a pool. On one final note, how does one have anything other than "intended oral sex?" I've done some fucked up shit in my day, but accidentally eating pussy aint one of 'em. (There go 4 more readers).

* It is a good rule not to share dildos, vibrators and other sex toys. But if you must share them, make sure that you use condoms on the dildo and sex toy.

This is one that I actually agree with. And it is more than just a "good idea" I personally don't want my girl knocking on her neighbo'rs door looking to borrow her double pronged, car battery operated, dildo. And if you "MUST" share them, you got much bigger issues to worry about then slapping a Trojan on that thing.

* If you perform oral sex on a man you should always use a condom. Although the risk of HIV transmission through oral sex is low, it appears that fellatio is the riskiest kind of oral sex if the partner performing the fellatio receives semen into his or her mouth.

--- See. Facials are not degrading. It is safe sex and should be encouraged. (I am never getting another date at this point).

*If the taste of latex, particularly of condoms that are prelubricated, are repellent to people who want to use condoms during oral sex, they should bear in mind that there are fruit- and mint-flavoured condoms available for oral sex.

----- I actually love the taste of lubricated latex in the morning. Almost as much as Lucky Charms.

* If you want to perform oral sex on a women, a dental dam (or latex sheath placed over the vagina) will make sure you do not get vaginal fluid or menstrual blood into your mouth. Non-porous plastic wraps, such as non-microwavable plastic wrap (e.g. Glad Wrap) can also be placed over the vagina. Or a condom can be cut open for this purpose. Although cunnilingus holds a low risk of HIV transmission (if the skin is intact and if the woman is not menstruating), other STDs can be transmitted in this way.

----- Next time I am with a woman, I swear to you, I am going to get up, get out of bed, and come back with some saran wrap (non microwavable of course). While humming Oops I did it again to myself, I am going to place a layer over her vagina. Smile. Nod. And go do my thing. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? Could you imagine???? Please, someone tell me a guy has done this...

* While oral-anal sex ("rimming") does not appear to carry a high risk for HIV infection unless there is blood present, the possibility of contracting the hepatitis B virus, the herpes simplex virus, the cytomegalovirus and a number of different parasites from oral-anal sex is very high indeed. A latex sheath (dental dam), Glad Wrap or a spliced-open condom should be used to cover the anal area.

----- Can I use the same piece of saran wrap when I flip her over and stick my tongue up her ass? Just curious. (Kent, you may not comment here).

* Safe practices that are still enjoyable include the following:
o petting
o thigh rubbing
o sexual fantasies
o phone sex
o using personal sex toys
o thigh sex (a healthy skin provides a protective barrier against the virus. It is therefore not possible to get HIV from direct contact with semen placed on the body but not in the body.)

---- THIGH sex?????? For the love of God, what is thigh sex? I gotta go do a google search on this one.

* If you practise vaginal and anal fisting (inserting the whole fist into the vagina or anus), you should use latex gloves during the process. You should also take care of your nails because sharp edges can tear gloves and condoms.

Briiiiiiiing. Briiiiiing.
"Hi Honey. Do me a favor," she said. "Before you come home, please get a manicure and pick up a batting glove."
"Why?"
She examined her own nails. "Well, I think I'd like you to shove your fist up my ass tonight."
"Oh. That sounds like a wonderful idea." He leaned back in his chair. "Will you do mine after?"
"Of course."
"Perfect. I'll get some KY too."
"No. That's OK. Just make sure you get a nice Chardonney. The Bernsteins are coming over for dinner."

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Under Construction

2006-05-17T08:00:00.000-05:00

I am reconstructing my blog and while I still hope to post daily, I may not have time. I have picked some "reruns" in case I cannot.

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24

The following took place between 6:00 a.m. and 7 a.m. on the day before Scott went to Club Med. This is going to be the longest day of my life.

6:00:00...6:00:01...6:00:02...I woke up with a nasty hangover. I tried, but could not fall back asleep. After tossing and turning for a while, I peed and made coffee, a new skill I recently learned. Who knew it would be so easy? As the coffee started to drip, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride. This lasted for all of 26 seconds until I got in the shower and realized I forgot to buy soap last night and the sliver that remained was not going to make it past my shin. I grabbed the shampoo.....6:28.33 6:28.34 6:28.35

6:57: I finished reading the paper and decided to get an early start. I stuffed my laundry bag with clothes strewn all over the floor. I dragged the bag behind me and closed the door..... 6:59:58, 6:59:59...

7:01: The cleaners is closed and it doesn't open until 7:30. I lugged the bag into Hot and Crusty and ordered a bagel. I went to pay and don't have my wallet. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

7:35: I paid for the bagel and returned to the cleaners. They cannot do it by today, and are unmoved by my predicament. I return upstairs and weigh all possible solutions. I look for the yellow pages, which is nowhere to be found. What am I going to do now? Fuck it. I will just have to do it myself. How hard could it be?? But I am too wound up at the moment. I need to chill out.......

8:40. I finished watching the 3rd to last episode of Season 2 of 24 and go to computer for a bit.

Ph signed on at 8:55 A.M.
SStern [9:00 A.M.]: i am an alcoholic
SStern [9:04 A.M.]: and i need a suitcase
SStern [9:04 A.M.]: or, as my grammamma would say, a velice
Ph [9:05 A.M.]: a velice
Ph [9:05 A.M.]: i love that
Ph [9:05 A.M.]: where did that word come from?
SStern [9:05 A.M.]: lol
SStern [9:05 A.M.]: how did i get so drunk?
Ph [9:06 A.M.]: probabaly the straight vodka you were drinking
SStern [9:06 A.M.]: im going to attempt to do laundry...be back....
Ph [9:06 A.M.]: be safe

9:35: Miraculously, I have laundry detergent. I swear, it must have gotten into my apartment by osmosis. That and the "dill weed" in my cupboard. After scouring my apartment for quarters, which I actually had, I lugged my bag back into the elevator. There is no basement button. How could that be? I went to the concierge to inquire. It seems that only one elevator goes to basement. In other words, I can get a direct flight to the Turks and Caicos Islands, but not my laundry room. Terrific.

9:45: I separated my laundry into four machines. This, like making coffee, was far easier than I had made it out to be. I poured a capful of Tide into each one like an assembly line, and reached into my pocket to pull out quarters. Um, where is the metal quarter thingy? Guadalupe told me I needed a card. I asked her how much she charged to clean apartments. She told me she lived in the building and was not a cleaning lady. Um, my bad. So I go to the card machine but, of course, I have no money on me and have to run upstairs. My ride back was a direct flight and I caught the same elevator back down. The machine kept spitting my money back out. The corners were crisp, not folded, and my frustration grew. The woman at the near dryer told me I could only buy a new card with a ten dollar bill. All I have is a 20. I ask her if she has two tens, but don't dare ask her if she cleans apartments.....9:59:57.... 9:59:58....9:59:59....

10:03: I am certain that all I have upstairs are 20s because I just used my last two singles in Hot and Crusty. None of the doormen have 2 tens, so I headed back to the elevator to go put clothes on. (I am in shorts and a sleeveless shirt as I am going to run on treadmill after). Both elevators are heading up and I had no fucking patience. But it is 10 degrees out. Fuck it. I turned around and highstepped it out the front door and back into Hot and Crusty. She doesn't have two tens. So I am now back at the Dry Cleaners, where this whole debacle started three hours ago.

10:15: I put card into machine and have to pick a style. Whites...Colors...Permanent Press.... What the fuck is that one? I mean, either you are white or you are a color. There really is no other option. I understand the next one I think, delicates, which are probably women's bras and panties and other unmentionables, but what the fuck is permanent press? And what if I have colored AND white things that need to be permanently pressed. What do I do then? I decide to go with colored or white for everything. On the way out, I do some quick calculating and decide that, all tolled, this will NOT be cheaper than bringing it to the Chinese lady around the corner and decide you are all a bunch of idiots for doing this one your own. I am drawing the line at making my own coffee.

10:25: I get out of the elevator and go to the gym on the first floor. I don't, however, have the keycard to gym. And there is no one inside to let me in.

10:29: I pull the blanket up under my chin and hit play....

11:59: I finished watching the last 2 episodes of season 2 of 24. The ending was great, but nothing really could top season one's ending. Although the tiny brunette from the L Word did make a cameo, which was a nice little bonus. Yum. I think about rubbing one out, but decide to go move by laundry to the dryer. I get up and see Season 3 of 24 staring at me next to the TV. Ok. Just one episode. Had to see if President Palmer was ok....

1:19: I look for my to-do list on my dining table. I couldn't find it and decided to start writing this ridiculouss blog instead. So glad I took the day off from work......

2:15: My clothes were finally in the dryer and my presecriptions were being refilled at Duane Reade. I went to call my date for that night and pondered the fact that I would be drinking the next 7 nights, was out the prior two, and am wiped. I put down the phone and asked my speech writer to begin preparing a draft of the email that I will send her to finagle my way out of this.

2:21: I again tried to master this "injaculation" thing... See You Coming or Going and How to injaculate It does not work, but maybe I am just too worried that I am going to spontaneously combust.

2:30: I went to retrieve my clothes. I had combined the four wash loads into 2 dryers and now have clothes that are only half dry. And only enough money on my card for one more run. I start combining them into one dryer and think again. While I could use any denomination of money to add to a card, I didn't have any denomination at all on me. I run back upstairs and back down.

5:40: Four more episodes of Season 3 of 24 down. I got my clothes out of dryer, folded them (how annoying) and came back upstairs. Despite intense efforts to have someone pick me up a memory chip for my camera at Best Buy, I failed. I pondered. How would Jack Bauer manage get to Best Buy on 86th Street without having to leave his apartment. I order it on-line and have to pick it up by 9. I guess I should start packing. Nah. I had time. I went for a workout instead.

8:15: I leave for Best Buy and realize I never went back to Duane Reade. I pray they are still open and race in. Whew. Go back upstairs to pack. Josh Calls. He is with Jodi One-Stop and going back to his place. They have become good friends since the infamous "where the hell do you think you are going" cab incident. They tell me that her friends are meeting her there before they go out, and I should come by and hang for a bit. Although he lives across the street from me, I told him I have to pack. He told me to shut the fuck up. I showered, and realize that not only did I forget to buy Soap again while in Duane Reade, I forgot to go to Best Buy.

8:30: Wearing shorts, I cross street and into Josh's building. Inside, there is a doggie in the hallway. I ask the dog where its mommy is? Mommy calls out from the mailroom. Mommy is a cute girl I had met on Halloween. Mommy and I will have a conversation when I get back from Club Med.

9:10: Josh notes that I need to clip my toenails and demands I immediately get my feet off his couch. I tell him it is on my to-do list, but I am there instead. I wedge them under the pillows on his couch. Jodi One Stop's friend comes over. She recognizes me from J-date, and then amuses us with her recent J-date story wherein he offered to send her a picture of his penis during their first phone conversations. I swear it wasn't me. See A revolting display

9:30: Jodi's friend tries to convince me and Josh to come out. She has three tables at Embassy and is entertaining big restauranteurs in Manhattan. I even had heard of them. She was picking up the entire tab. While very tempting, we decline.

9:35 Concluding a week of harassing us about how we are getting to the airport, what time we are leaving, etc., Deb calls to notify me that her and the girls have opted to take a car service to the airport instead of a cab. I lie and tell her that me and Josh are going out.

9:47 I assure Paige that I am not going out and we just needed to ensure that Deb would stop Iming, calling, and texting us. I inquire whether we can have sex on the airplane. She declines. Jodi's old roommatee shows up. I note that she is a brunette who is about 5'1.

9:48 I had a drink.

10:12 We decide we will go with them, but just for an hour. Swear.

11:15 We are driving in the roommate's Jeep and, after she almost drives into a horse, Josh suggests we get a six pack, drive around city, and film an episode for bangbus.com. Bangbus.com Josh and I are outvoted 3-2, although I think we could have swung Jodi if we pushed hard enough.

11:40: We have entire section roped off for our three tables. They bring us over, among other things, vodka infused with a red-bull type energy drink. I mix that would Red Bull, just in case.

12:30: Place fills up. People are young, and there were way too many guys in Fedora's doing their best Kevin Federline impression. But I was at a table and more people I knew came by, so I was happy. Josh and I keep reminding each other that we have to leave soon. And then pour ourselves another drink.

1:20: Josh tries to work his threesome angle one last time. I think he might pull it off, but he failed. I decide I REALLY have to go home. Or at least just drink Red Bull without Vodka at this point.

3:20: I got home and start tossing shit into piles on the floor. Strategy being just to overpack and hope for the best. I find my suitcase, a/k/a velice, and start filling it up. Starting to crash. I make some coffee and sit down. Ok. One episode of 24. And then another.

5:30: I finish packing as the calls start coming in to make sure I am awake. I am, but realize that I can't find the envelope from travel agent. Laurie assures me I do not need it. But only after I destroyed my apartment searching for it.

5:58:47... I crumple up to-do list, the only thing I forgot to do was call my insurance company and Con Edison about a few issues. I smiled as I passed the doorman. No biggie. I'm on vacation.

5:59:58....5:59:59...6:00:00.

(Stay tuned for scenes from next week when I arrive home at 12:30 a.m. to find my power was shut off, and pray that I still have insurance. And that it covers rehab.)

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What's in a name

2006-05-15T05:36:00.000-05:00

I watched a heated debated on TV about offensive sports names such as the Atlanta Braves, Washington Redskins and Cleveland Indians. I really don't have a strong opinion there, but I will say this... When is someone from the African American community going to raise a hand and say, um, isn't it time we tinkered a bit with the name "National Association for the Advancement of Colored People" (NAACP)" Um, "colored people"???" I mean, let’s put these two in perspective. If I walked into a bar in Cleveland where Native Americans hang out and screamed "FUCK THE INDIANS!!!!!!!!", I'll still be singing the national anthem in a few hours. But if I walked into a downtown Cleveland bar and yelled, "FUCK THE COLORED PEOPLE!!!!!", I'm not singing, eating, drinking or breathing on my own for at least two months.

No Stopping or Standing, Fri-Sun

2006-05-10T05:41:00.000-05:00

Spring is upon us and, unless you are psychotic, this is a great time to be in New York City. In fact, it is the one time of year where I may actually "take advantage of all the City has to offer." Well, who are we kidding. I may take advantage of Central Park, but other than that I still am not leaving the Upper East Side during daylight hours unless I am talking to an extremely attractive woman who is walking past 59th Street.

But with Spring comes a very big social problem. Whether you are frolicking, gallivanting, traipsing or merely walking around on a beautiful spring day, you are inevitably going to come across someone you know. And there are people who clearly need a refresher course in how to handle these encounters if they are going to continue to hang out with me. Thus, I am submitting a proposed amendment to the New York City Parking, Standing, and Stopping Statutes.

$4815: Traffic Violations on City Sidewalks

A. Situations in which you are allowed to stop. You may stop if you see:

1) Someone you slept with or had oral sex with. (or in the case of my G-rated friends, someone you dated more than three times AND got to 2nd base with).
2) Someone you would like to accomplish the above with (although I think in such a case, stopping may not be the best move).
3) Someone with a baby.
4) One of your parent’s friends or your parent’s friends children that you have known since before you were 16.
5) Someone who is in a position to make you money.
6) The dogs of an ex, so long as they are not with someone who might attempt to shove you into moving traffic when you lower your head to pet said dogs.

B. Situations in which you are only allowed to slow down.

1) Anyone sitting outside a restaurant. (If you cannot handle this, may I suggest you avoid 2nd Avenue at 66th and 70th, and the mid 70s.). If I get stopped talking to your cousin Bernice outside Cinema again, there is going to be trouble.
2) People from your Hamptons House last summer that you did not talk to when you were four lounge chairs away from them.
3) Someone from the gym.
4) Good friends that you have communicated with in the last week.
5) Anyone you saw last night. If you want to recap, meet at the diner.

C. Situations where you may waive and/or nod without breaking strides.

1) Anyone else you know.
2) Someone you do not know of the opposite sex, but is really cute. Although in such a case, only nodding or smiling is permitting. Anyone who waives in such a situation will be immediately deported to Brooklyn, Staten Island, or somewhere East of Yaphank.
3) Police Officers, Firemen and military personnel.
4) Old people.

L.2006, c.420; amended 4/8/06; $15; L.1916, c.2342 $1

Practice Commentaries:

1) You may be thinking, “How can I not stop? It is rude.” I mean, in one recent instance, my friend stopped. The only possible way she could have known him any less was if she had never seen him at all. If not him, then who? Really. It is not only rude, but the person will be relieved you did not stop.

2) Practical Pointers:

a) If you find yourself breaking one of these rules, always keep your feet moving and put your bodyweight on the foot which is in the direction you are looking to go. Always. Never plant them. It is very easy to slide away after a few seconds when you have not come to a complete utter stop. Think base stealers taking walking leads. They are gone the millisecond that the pitcher goes toward the plate. You should be too the second he or she even glimpses at the waiter.

b) If you see someone from across the corner, always speed up or slow down so that you cross paths in the intersection. This way, even if you are forced to stop, the concersation will shortly be broken up by a moving car. Or, at the very least, the car will run him or her over.

c) If you are in a group and one person stops, the rest of the group must keep walking. When you are at least 20 feet away, you can then stop. But this must be immediately followed up shortly by tapping of your feet and making faces. If this doesn't work, start throwing rocks.

d) Practice pivoting late at night when no one is on the street. This is an invaluable skill which must be mastered as it will offer you a compromise between stopping and slowing down. With this maneuver, you slow down a lot, but don’t stop. Just as you pass this person, who may very well have stopped, you firmly plant the foot that just went by the person on the pavement. Then you swing your body around so you are still facing the person and your back is now facing your destination. From here, you backpedal slowly while continuing to make brief small talk with the person.

e) If someone stops before you get to them, and this person clearly does not warrant a stop from you, do not stop. You don't slow down, waive, nod, or pivot. You launch yourself off the ground and punch the person as hard as you can. Think Joe Pesci collecting his money in front of the pool hall in "My Cousin Vinny."

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That Wasn't Wise

2006-05-08T12:32:00.000-05:00

I was quite surprised about the reaction to today's blog. I mean, you'd think I wrote that I was fucking a zebra on Third Avenue.

I was not revealing something unique to me (it does happen to ALL men). Unique to me was the time this activity resulted in a leg cramp so bad that I almost had to crawl into my office. (Who Needs Coffee) Or almost being arrested in front of my parents for being with an underage girl. (Sign My Yearbook) But this? C'mon now.

On a far lighter note, me and Laurie also encountered an ex's friend with their dogs on Saturday. As you will recall, the last time this occurred was not a very pleasant exchange. (Scroll to Scenario 5)

We were crossing 2nd Ave when we saw them on the steps of a building. "You dare me to go pet them?" I said.
"I dare you."
I pondered this for a second. "Why start. Enough is enough already." But I was not going to look the other way either. I pointed. "That's Rudy and that's Dave." Aren't they cute?"
She humored me. "Very cute."
We kept walking. "Rudy recognized me," I said, smiling. "Did you see him perk up when he saw me?"
She looked back and, laughing, said. "All I see is her rolling her eyes."
"Fuck her." I gave Laurie a playful shove. "And I'm telling you. He perked!"
"You are completely insane."
I smiled. "Yeah. I know."

Yes, I know it is quite strange that I would get such a kick out of seeing the dog of someone I dated a year and a half ago. But the fact is, I did. It is the truth. And it is no less the truth then what I wrote yesterday, or the day before. For the past year, I have simply told the truth as I feel it, experience it, and see it. And I don't filter it based on how it is going to make me look. Sometimes I unintentionally make myself look good (like the other day where I mentioned work and the charity) and other times I manage to make myself look like a complete ass. (Too numerous to mention). Sometimes it makes me sound like a sap and sometimes it makes some of you think I am an "arrogant prick" or "scumbag." Sometimes very sweet, sometimes really raunchy, and sometimes a complete fool.

I guess the truth is that I am capable of being all those things. I don't deny it. And I think we all are, but just don't want to admit it. But as someone once said,

A fool who know's he’s a fool
is not so much a fool
as a fool who thinks he is a wise man
For he is truly a fool.

How the hell did I get off on such a tangent? Whatever. I have work to do.

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Injury Report: Day to Day

2006-05-08T01:14:00.000-05:00

I got home Friday night, flung off my clothes without breaking stride, and hurled myself into bed. On any other night, I would have passed out in seconds. On this night, however, I was slightly, well, pent up. Ok. A lot pent up. I make it a policy never to discuss current dating experiences, but I think I can say that.

So I am in bed in this state of, um, arousal if you will. But I was far too buzzed and lazy to get up to get the Lubriderm. Then, despite 24 years of experience in this area screaming "DON'T DO IT,” I went without a net and, worse, did so after drinking a lot of vodka. There are many men shaking their heads at their computer screen right now, wincing, knowing where this is going. I'd say the only worse decision made by a male in all of America this weekend was Victor Zambrano pitching KNOWING he was hurt. His elbow popped and now he is out for the season. So what risk did I run, you ask? Two words - Friction Burn.

Guys, we've all been there. (Go ahead girls, go ask three guys right now). Anyone who says he has never gotten this is lying). Usually, it is not such a big deal. Hurts for a day and in a few days, you are fine. Other than burning like a mother fucker when I sweated during spin class, this should have been a non-event. But, I had real problems here. I had a date Saturday night and, by all accounts, Mr. Happy was going to have to pitch. But, there was no way he could.

If I asked him to take the mound, he would have lasted maybe two pitches and, like Victor Zambrano, sprinted off the mound in tears and straight into the locker room. So what was I to do? I could somehow try to play through this pain. Ask him to pull off a Willis Reed like performance, but I knew there was no way. And, worse, if he tried, he would not have just missed a start. He would have had to go onto the 15-day disabled list.

Now, you may be saying, "What is the big deal, you pig? You can't just go out and keep your dick in your pants?" Of course I could, and would, if this was a date with someone who lived on 68th Street. But this was more of a cross state lines booty call than a date. As you may recall, I set up a few j-dates while I was in Florida last in Thanksgiving. (See The State Line Rule). We spoke both times I was down there, but never got together. Early last week, I got an e-mail that she is coming to NYC for the weekend, and we should play. Could this have been just a friendly meeting for a drink? Perhaps. But based on our occasional e-mails over the last few months, as long as her pictures were an adequate representation, it was highly likely Mr. Happy was going to be making an appearance.

All day long I pondered what to do. Finally, at around five o'clock, I had to call the game. There was nothing I could do. I seriously considered still going and having fun, but I envisioned her going to unbutton my pants and, well, I would have had to stop her. And that was something that, as a man, I could not do. I would have had a better chance of cutting out my own eye to live like in "Saw II", then pulling her hand away and saying, "No. Don't."

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A Moment Like This

2006-05-04T12:34:00.000-05:00

The last few days have been really special. On Monday, we realized the fund raiser was going to sell out and decided not to sell any tickets at the door. This was a goal that, even weeks ago, no one - including me - thought we would reach. I had, once again, made a way too bold prediction. That we would, in fact, sell out the event. I then went home and said. "What the fuck was I thinking?! Sell out?!"

About a minute later, I learned that I won the biggest appeal I have worked on, successfully overturning a decision to dismiss a huge case. Originally, we were going to hire special appellate counsel to do this, but in typical “me” form, I went into the boss' office and boldly stated, "I am doing this" and, better yet, "I will not lose." It was on this day that my role here changed. Shortly thereafter, I formed the "appellate department" of my firm. I went back to my office, reread the court's decision and said, "What the fuck was I thinking?! How am I going to win this?!"

Well, within a minute of each other, both of these goals were met. My boss even brought in champaign and we had a small party in the conference room. I had a "moment" at that point. I was proud of winning the appeal, my involvement in the charity and, moreover, what I had accomplished in the past few years. (You saw the fat pictures). Truth be told, when I started at this firm years ago, it was as a favor to help me get back on my feet. I was basically doing paralegal work a few days a week. Now, I was a department.

Then last night, the party went off perfectly. There were somewhere between 550 and 600 people there and everyone had an amazing time. This includes most of my firm, including my bosses. (One person in my firm who has never called in sick and even came in after having a colonoscopy, strolled in at the crack of noon. It was a beautiful sight.) Late in the evening, I had another "moment" as I looked around the room.
I turned to Paige. "You know what's amazing?"
"What?"
"My bosses are looking around and are saying 'Holy Shit. This Stern kid really has his shit together. Look at this party.' And when I leave here tonight, I will go home having earned a little more respect from my bosses."
She nodded. "You did good."
"But the sickest thing is...," I shook my head. "They have no idea that the last time I left this place, I went home and peed all over a girl in my sleep."

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Even More Random Thoughts

2006-05-02T23:07:00.000-05:00

--I'm adding men who put on sneakers with their suit to walk home to my list of people who should be shot on sight. And while I am adding to lists, "Gussied" is another amazing word. Like the first time you see someone in work/formal close. "Wow. I've never seen you all gussied up."

--Similarly, "Until the cows come home" is another expression I love, but cannot imagine where it came from. Where were they? On a bender with the cat who got out of the bag?

--What does the H. in Jesus Christ for? And are there any other times when it is used other than when someone is really, really pissed off?

--The U.S. may be the biggest superpower, but maaaaaaaan can those foreign armies march. Their legs come up to their chins, and they turn and salute without breaking stride. Thank God world domination is not decided by a game of kick ball, cause we would be in a shitload of trouble.

--What kind of a moron makes a date for a Sunday night? Speaking of which, if you ask someone out and they suggest coffee during lunch or a quick drink after work on Monday, she just didn't have the courage to say no. You are on par with a comedian who goes to "open mike night" in Passaic, New Jersey hoping to be "found.”

--I think I may have officially frolicked on Sunday.

--And when I was done frolicking, I was watching the last round of the NFL draft. One day I pray that when they get to these picks, Mel Kiper would turn to Michael Irvin and say "You have never seen or heard of Pat McQuistan from Weber State, so why don't you shut the fuck up already." And, as an aside, if you actually still like Chris Berman, you are just a step above the dude in the sneakers and the suit.

--Best moment of April..... Let's just say that in 20 years I will still be talking about the catch I made in the back of the end zone in our Urban Football League a few weeks ago. (Gregg, you didn't think I wasn't gonna get that in here did you??). Our next game is at 2:45 Sunday at Asphalt Green (90th/2nd) if anyone wants to come watch.

--I'm all for personal hygiene, but I think people who brush their teeth at work after lunch are a little spooky.

-- If you write people on Jdate at 7:48 on Sunday morning, you are screaming that you are completely desperate. Same applies to Sunday afternoon at 1:00 p.m. when it is 73 degrees and there is not a cloud in the sky. Not only desperate, but friendless. Unless you have the flu, in which case you should make that fact known in the e-mail. Or lie about it. I mean, have some common sense.

-- I went on a date recently with someone who was a walking thesaurus. Do people who use big, obscure words think they are impressing anyone. "He was very loquacious????", "It was sheer sophistry???" "We engaged in a scintillating discourse about..." Shit, I felt like I was on a date with Walt Frazier.

-- I tried this "Fresh Direct" thing. I spent close to $200 bucks and, somehow, did not buy one single beverage. I did, however, manage to buy 3 heads of lettuce. The over/under on how many of those things are decomposing in my fridge in a few weeks is 3. Same with the 3 pounds each of turkey and roast beef, but no bread.

--Who instructed doormen to stand outside and whistle for taxis? I am thinking the driver on the other side of Second Avenue with his radio on, windows closed, next to the guy with the jackhammer is not hearing him whistle. Nor is the guy driving down Second Avenue around the corner. My arm 10 feet in the air seems to be a much better option, so stop whistling in my ear.

--My "my bad" moment of April:

I was on the rooftop of Maritime Hotel a few weeks ago and, for no apparent reason, me and my friend Danielle started pushing each other with our shoulders every few minutes. (Yes, we are very mature). She got me pretty good on the last one, and I bided my time to respond. About ten minutes later, I put a little extra into it. I sort of launched my shoulder into her this time. Unbeknownst to me, she had gotten up and our friend Platt sat down. I basically hip checked her off the seat. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!?!"..."Um, my bad."

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Shock and Awe

2006-05-01T12:40:00.000-05:00

I was walking with a friend today. She was filling me on the usual....life, love, the pursuit of happiness, when she saw a guy she knew. They shared brief pleasantries. As she walked away, she looked at me with that "I got a story about this guy" expression. She proceeds to tell me that she had a horrible sexual experience with him. I wondered aloud how it was possible that guys in their 30s could still not become, at the very least, competent in something that which is so fundamentally important.

I mean, this isn’t like giving golf a whirl. Quitting is not an option and you can't be happy to go out and hack up the course simply because it has nice scenery. And there is just no excuse today, especially with the internet. Be it porn or the 1000s articles you no doubt find about being a better lover.

I shared these feeling with her. She laughed. In this instance, it seems, it was not that the guy was clueless or incompetent. Rather, he scared the living shit out of her. Now, my friend is by no means a prude. She is a normal woman with a healthy sexual appetite. But she touched on something I learned many years ago (the infamous toe-sucking incident of 1991), and which some people apparently still need to learn.

Now, as uninhibited I can be at times, the first few times you are with someone, you HAVE to play it a little close to the vest. Think about the first round of boxing match. You dance around, throw a jab, feel out your opponent. You don't sprint out of your corner like Mike Tyson throwing haymakers. Even better, think about a football game played in a snowstorm, what do you do on that first possession? You run up the middle, a couple of sweeps, screen passes and maybe once, you go play action and throw a 15-20 yard pass over the middle. Just to keep em honest, ya' know. But, unless you want to get fired, the first three plays you call are not a flea flicker, a halfback option, and the fumblerooski.

Listen, I wholeheartedly believe that at some point, you have to let it go. But this has to be a cautious plan of attack. While ultimately, you should (and must) go with a "shock and awe” campaign, if you do this too soon she will be running out of your apartment and hiding in a spider hole. I think it’s clearly better to start of slow and one day hear her say, "Wow. I didn't see that coming."

So, in my humble opinion, you take a girl home from Cain in the Hamptons, you pull out plays like you drew up in the back of your elementary school in the 5th grade. Hidden ball tricks. Quadruple reverses. Bring Vito from the Sopranos and the entire Stanford band into bed with you. Mazel. Live and be well. But if you are dating one of my friends, the first time you hook up, take it slow. I'm not saying you mail it in, but from actual conversations with women, I can offer you the following suggestions: Don't try and get her to masturbate 18 seconds after you get her pants off for the first time. Thereafter don't stick your (or her) fingers in her mouth and ask her if she likes the way she tastes. And for the love of god, leave the anal beads in the hall closet.

But hey, that's just me.

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Who's calling?

2006-04-27T12:22:00.000-05:00

My friend Laurie started a new job recently and she was complaining about the male receptionist. He is supposed to write down all the calls that come in, and give it to the boss. This genious kept fucking this up and getting in trouble. So now he writes down every single call that comes in, including personal calls. While Laurie does not get that many personal calls, this really bothered her. So I called to make sure she was ok.

Riiing... Riiing...Rii
"Good Morning. How may I help you?"
I got my serious voice on. "Good morning. Laurie xxxx please."
"Who may I say is calling?"
"Mr. Jablome." I leaned back in my chair. "First name, Haywood."
"Haywood Jablome?"
Don't laugh. Dont laugh. "Yes."
"Hold please...."
do de do de doooooooooooo
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!?!"
"Explain that one to your boss."

Don't know if that was as good as this one...Out of Office. But close.

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A tough act to follow....

2006-04-26T00:54:00.000-05:00

So I am out for dinner last night with someone. I was teasing her that I saw her at a party a few months ago, but did not talk to her because she with a guy who seemed like more than a friend. She started thinking aloud. Finally, she put it together. "Oooooooooooooh. Yes. I was dating this guy 'Neil' at the time."
My fork froze in mid air. Laughing, I put it down and said, "Please don't tell me you mean (his AOL screename)"
"Yeah. That's him. We dated for a few months. Why?"

If you did not read my post of just a few days ago, click here to see who "Neil" is and why this was a little spooky. Six Degrees of Stupidity

What I find really uncanny, yet fascinating, is that I have absolutely no connection to this guy. We are not that close in age, and as far as I know, we have no common "friends" other than these four women. Further, to my knowledge, there is absolutely no connection between these four women either. None. They are not the same age, do not travel in the same social circle, and there is not even a "J-date" connection.

Anyhoo... When I got home, I called one of the three women referred to in the above-linked post. She, in turn, shared this new revelation with "Neil", who is also quite amused by all of this. We have now decided as follows: I am setting him up with some people I have dated in the past. Let him follow my act for a change. He, in turn, is going to keep my business cards in his wallet. When things end between him and a woman, he'll say. "Listen. I am really sorry this didn't work out. But you may want to call this guy..."

Shit, next thing you know, I'll find out he was dating Jennifer Scheck in 1979.

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He said, She said...

2006-04-25T12:47:00.000-05:00

What are you thinking?

Debbie Said: (Does Debbie)

When it comes to sex, it is the unspoken words that matter. After all, how many times has one accidentally professed their love when they really meant to thank them for teaching that new position. But what women think about, and what men think they think about are probably two very different things. Same goes for what men think about (although I am convinced that they don't think.)

The Devil said:

Of course we think. We just aren't always thinking about you. I mean, if we were to have sex after an episode of Lost, it is 50/50 Kate is in that bed with us. That is just the truth. And like most things I say, it is just what people don't want to admit. And, you know what? If you are doing the same with Sawyer, god bless. Or better yet, if you are also thinking about going down on Kate as she digs her nails into your head.......

Now there would be the difference. For those women who have confided in me their desire to be with another woman (or that they have), I believe that experience is completely different for men and women. While you might be picturing Sawyer throwing you around as much as I have fantasized about tossing Evangeline Lilly onto her stomach and... well, um, you get the point... Shit where was I?

Ok. From what I hear, the difference that when women are together, the don't fuck. They make love. The explore each other.. They are so tender...blah, blah, blah. Men fuck. We may do something resembling "making love" on special occasions and if James Blunt is playing. But those are the "unspoken words that matter." Because while we will do it from time to time, it is simply not discussed after. Just go to sleep and act like nothing ever happened. (My policy on all this can be found here....The Rules)

Am I wrong?

She said:

First of all- women don't make love. The only thing cheesier than making love is Artisinal on 32nd Street. Women do the same thing men do. We f*ck (we just can't type it as easily as you can.)

Secondly- women really don't fantasize. Sawyer, Dr. McDreamy, hell, even Jack Bauer have never appeared in bed with The Man and I. You want to know what women think about when they are in bed: ONE THING- having an orgasm. Yup, the cat's out of the bag. Given that our parts are not on auto drive like a man's, having an orgasm takes work. Concentration. And while a woman's brain runs a mile a minute and we're able to think about that one date in 1998 at the same time as the Oprah Book Club, sex is all about the end result. It is not about figuring out if men love us, or if we are doing a good job. We know that a man (a quality man I should add) is all about pleasing a woman, and we feel the pressure. It's all about the O.

---------
Coming soon: While editing this, Scott asks Debbie what she is wearing and tries to engage her in cyber-sex. Debbie says it is a form of cheating......

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If All Else Fails.....

2006-04-24T04:53:00.000-05:00

I keep hearing over and over how amazing the song "You're Beautiful" is. My take: Overrated, average lyrics at best, and even a little whiney. Sorry, but I am completely unmoved by it. And I am on record as liking some real sappy songs.

Having said that, for the first time yesterday, I heard the song "Goodbye My Lover" by the same dude. The last time I was so immediately moved by a song was in the 6th grade when I heard "All out of Love" 18 minutes after Jennifer Scheck broke up with me.

I'd say my heart has been legitimately broken three times in my life. How do I define "legitimately heartbroken?" Two words - "Mix Tape." And, you know, for someone who has been called a "mysoginist" and a few other choice words by women lately, it should be noted in all fairness that I have managed to completely and utterly humilate myself a few times in the name of "love." Uy. I still cringe when I think about some of the shit I said/did during these times.

I mean, the other day a friend told me that he sent a rather rediculous drunk e-mail to a woman. He was beating himself up, and clearly needed my support. "Dude. If you read a few of the choice selections I once e-mailed, first you will projectile vomit all over my computer screen, then you would bash me over the head with it."
"That bad, eh."
I shook my head. "You have no idea."
He laughed. "How bad could they have been?"
"Let's just say that, no lie, I have thought about breaking into her apartment to steal her computer."

Well, fortunately, these three debacles were spread out across the three decades of my life. But in each instance, in addition to inventing new ways to make a spectacle of myself, I sent a few songs and/or lyrics her way. (I cannot believe I am admitting this.) That being said, I am almost pissed off that I am not "heartbroken" over someone at this moment. What a waste. Because I think if a woman could possibly be swayed by such a gesture, this song would do it. Or at least got me laid one more time. It seemed to have worked for the dude in the video.

I think I'm gonnna go google Jennifer Scheck.

Video

Lyrics

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Six degrees of stupidity

2006-04-21T00:52:00.000-05:00

I have finally gotten to the "Tipping Point" in my life where there is but one degree of separation between me and every Jewish person living in Manhattan. It it getting kinda' rediculous.

A few weeks ago, my friend "Sheri" mentioned this guy "Neil." She had dated him years ago for a long time, and now they are the best of friends. I had dated Sheri briefly before we became friends. Anyhoo, we are talking and she mentions that Neil had dated the second of my most recent "ex"es. His name sounded familiar, but I did not know from where.

Later, she logged onto AOL to check her mail and he was on her buddy list. I finally put it together and realized he had also dated my most recent ex. Now, I have no idea the extent or nature of Neil's dealings with said exes (nor could I possibly care, nor did I ask). The point is that, by my count, that is three times in the past few years that I followed this guys act.

So last night, she is texting with him and said he was coming to meet her. I merely asked if she ever told him of these coincidences. She said she had not, but when she introduced him to me, she felt that now was the time to bring it up. I felt like a complete putz. I tried to avoid the topic, but he asked me who we had in common. I list them without comment. "Debbie", "Emma" and,... hmm. I can't remember who the third is..." We talk for a minute... Blah blah blah. Blah blah blah. He asked if I knew her friend so and so. Blah blah blah.

He leaves, and it is bothering me that I cannot remember who the third was we had "in common." I turned to Sheri. "Do you remember who the third person was? That is so weird."
She looks at me blankly.
I continued. "I cannot believe I can't remember....Why are you looking at me like........Oh, um. Oops." I am in such trouble. "Sorry about that."
"You are such a fucking idiot."
"It was memorable. It was great. I still think about it..I...."

So once again, I has shoved my foot deep down my throat. Of course, this wasn't nearly as bad as calling the guy by his AOL Screename and remembering that he had a basketball icon. Could I be a bigger loser???? But what the fuck else was I supposed to talk about? Should I have compared notes? This was a rediculous conversation that never should have taken place. But that is the difference between men and women. A woman would size her up, want to talk, hear about him. Me? Unless that dude wanted to talk about the Mets bullpen, the Jets draft pick, or the brunette by the bar in the tanktop, there was no reason for us to be talking. But that's just me.

We were about to leave when I saw him go into the bathroom. I was going to follow him in, but thought better of it. I mean, if you follow a guys act three times in a couple of years, you want to see what kind of act he has, no?

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Gone Fishing

2006-04-20T15:35:00.000-05:00

The thing about eating lunch at your desk every day is that when you leave the office for a while, people know you are gone. This is not a problem. I am treated like a professional, trusted, and do not need to call to say I will be late or get permission to go get a haircut or something.

Disappearing for three hours on an 80 degree day? Not so much. When I came back, my boss walked out of the bathroom and we walked down the hall together. He looked at my slightly red cheeks, my hair, and the Kenneth Cole bag in my hand.

He smirked. "Nice haircut."
"Um, Thanks."
"New shoes?"
"Uh-huh."
He smiled knowingly. "Beautiful day out."
"Yep."
We laughed, him in victory, me in concession. He didn't care. Not at all. He knows I have been busting my ass lately. He just wanted me to know he knew. Bosses are funny that way.

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The Devil Dates...

2006-04-19T13:11:00.000-05:00

Note: I did not even attempt to edit this rambling diatribe. Got called away while I was eating. Maybe it is better that way. Or maybe it is illegible. I am sure someone will let me know.

--------------------------
I woke up 2:30 a.m. and could not fall back asleep. This was despite taking an Ambien. Wide awake. This sucks. Hmmm... May I am in an Ambien blackout right now and don't know it. How cool would that be if I woke up and had no idea I typed this. Much like my birthday, except I am not sweating profusely.

I checked the boxscores again and decided to go forage on J-date. Wow. I have a lot of mail. I scan the pictures. Together, they added up to a 5. I even took a point away from one she was so unattractive. I open the first one.... "I see you viewed me. Why the pass?" What did you just say? Houston. We have a problem.

My settings are, and always have been, set so that others could NOT see if you looked at them. I mean, are you kidding me??? This is bad. Very, very bad. Why? Because I sat here earlier in the night, knowing I was going to write a dating blog, and was not only looking at women, but MEN. Guys with no shirts. Guys from Brooklyn. I
hot-listed them for chrissakes! I went scrambling through my "Who I've Viewed" page. uyuyuyuy. This is a disaster.

Well, what's done is done. In any event, when I was rumaging earlier in the night, I asked myself why I bothered. Why did I sit here like a voyeur when I barely ever write anyone and never go on dates? I went through all the people who I had communciated with, which only went back so far, and then decided to sift through all my old mail. (I never delete anything). I could not understand why I hadn't gone out with some of these people. And then I reflected on the few I had. Very few. Now, I never discuss dates here or my relationships unless there is sufficient distance from them. I will bend that rule today, but only slightly. And harmlessly. Since last summer, I estimated that I had been on maybe 5 of them, and decided to go through my old mail and see.

Ok. I had one last month. This was the prototypical J-date experience for me. We first wrote about two years ago. I disappeared. She disappeared. We'd e-mail. And we never went out. Then, somehow, she was forwarded my blog. She e-mails me. We e-mail. We texted. I invited her to parties. She didn't come. Now, it became such a joke, that we finally had to meet. She reads this, so I will not comment further.

Before that, I went on one in February. I followed through on this one, well, because if a 23 year old writes you, you go. Period. End of story. I know all my male brethren understand this. It is amazing, however, because in reality she was not that cute. If I was 23, I probably would not have gone out with her. But now, she is hot for the sole reason that she is 23. Hey, its just the way it is. I can't help it.

In January, I was supposed to go out with someone, but didn't. So why is this different than the litany of other people I was supposed to go out with, but didn't? First, we actually had a phone conversation. And then I legitimately had to cancel (or at least I'd like to think it was legitimate) and we played phone tag for a while. Then, out of nowhere, I got an email from her wherein she told me that she was sitting with her sister, and they both thought that I would be more suited for her. I asked what she was getting in return for "trading" me, and she said nothing. I refused to report to camp. I am worth at least a first round pick in 97 (lottery protected, of course) and a second round pick in '98. Or at least a shot of tequila. I never went out with either.

I did make it out on one date in January and, once again, we had written a long time ago, but never went out. (When I get the urge to go actually try and use the site, I always go through old mail and see who I previously found remotely interesting). We went on two dates and I actually wanted to gone on a third. (This would have been but the second time I made it that far with someone on J-date.) She was quite fetching. But alas, she declined. Actually, she didn't decline. She just did not return my call, which I feel is the appropriate thing to do after two dates. But I digress.... Anyhoo, she was a little shy, bit it was endearing. And I could tell she was the type who would be a lot of fun to hang out with once she got comfortable. Not to mention phenomenal in bed. She was older than me too, dispelling any notion that I would only date younger women. I wonder if she is still single.... Maybe I will send her this...

I went out with one person in December. This was a second date. You know, the more I write this, the more fucked up I realize I am. You see, our first date was about six months earlier. We had sort of kept in touch and, in reality, this was not even a date. She had read my blog, started one herself, and we met for a drink. Then, even as friends, I managed to screw this up completely when we were supposed to hang again, and now she is mad at me. Or at least she was. Which is a shame because she is a very interesting person and, as she told the world on her blog, I think she has a great ass. Wonder if she still reads this.....

Are you still with me? Is this even remotely interesting? Moving along, I had one J-date in October and, again, I don't know if I can get credit for an actual date here. It was a Sunday night, it turned out she lived in the building next to me, and we met for spontaneous drink at Mainland, which is on our corner. We had a few drinks and watched Kerry Collins cost me my fantasy football game. I'm not the official scorer here, but I think I should have to shower and move more than a half a block to claim I went on an actual date.

The one before that was in September. September 10th to be exact. I remember I was seconds from canceling, but a friend convinced me that I had to go. There were a lot of strange, strange coincidences surrounding this date. And, at first, it went eerily well. Then she barked. Yes, barked. For more, see Random Dialogue. It's in there somewhere).

And that was it since last summer. Maybe I missed one, but I don't think so. Having looked at it in that light, that history pretty damn warped. Looking through these emails tonight, I cant think of any reason why I didn't go out with many of the women I spoke to. Really. It is silly and, while not intentional, it really isn't nice. I can't assume that the people I am speaking to are emotionally detached, completely jaded, and as perpetually numb as I am. (Although I can hope, right?) Seriously though, meeting someone is very important to most normal people, especially as we get older. Which is not to say that I don't want to meet someone. I certainly do. But the best I can say is that it would be very nice. But while I would certainly welcome it, I don't have any burning need to do so that ever takes over my thoughts. I thought it maybe was just a phase I went through after, well, just after. But I wasn't much different before that either. What can I tell ya'. At least I am honest.

Yet, the irony is, while it may seem like I have not had any sustained or meaningful relationships since I have been writing, that is not really true. I have "seen" people that I met in "real life", and actually liked someone a lot toward the end of last summer. And, in the end, the best "relationship" I had in the past few years was this winter. It is one that was never discussed here, and was the one that, technically, I wasn't even having. Of course, that will makes no sense to anyone. But when it comes to my friendships, dating, and relationships, have I ever?

I have no clue what the point of this was, and it is now 4:15 a.m. and I am not even going to try and figure it out.

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update

2006-04-19T11:55:00.000-05:00

Around 2:15

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Update

2006-04-18T14:14:00.000-05:00

Will hopefully update after get something to printer, but in meantime... How 'bout those Mets. :). I felt like a little kid again last night. Well, I suppose that is no different than any other night, but that is besides the point. Forgot my camera, but still got a few decent phone shot. More later. (Again, all ticket/sales donations to my charity event will be most appreciated. Please click this link to see more information: Get Together Foundation As you can see, I am over 1/3 of the way to my minimum goal, and other sales are going well. Again, any effort you all could make would be most appreciated.

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I Don't Believe What I Just Saw.

2006-04-17T11:55:00.000-05:00

Something has been missing lately here. People have told me, and I agree, that I've just been a bit off. Here, and in life. For the last few weeks, I really have had nothing to say. And while my baby pictures and b-day pictures might have been entertaining to those who know me, I don't want this to turn into something that will only be interesting to those close to me. (But it's ok. You can admit it, I was fucking adorable though. The one where I am stuck in the crib....But I digress).

So I just started writing. Whatever came to my mind. I started writing about the interview I had many, many years ago where my friend's boss dropped an 8-ball on the table and started partying while he asked me questions. (I have witnesses. I swear). But the writing wasn't flowing. I considered going with the time I was dragged into La Trapeze. But as much as that would have flowed, I would like to continue dating.... But somehow, I needed to break this "writers block", this lack of creativity, so I kept trying to push through.

I recalled debating this morning what time I had to wait until before I could take my neighbors Post from in front of his door. At the time, it seemed funny. Today it does not.

I then thought about a recent conversation I had where I was asked me what my "dealbreakers" were when I dated. I said that I had very few, but one thing was for certain. If I go back to a woman's apartment, she pushes me onto the couch, and then blasts "In-A-Godda-Da-Vida" as loud as she can, I'm getting the fuck out of there once she turns her head. ok. I smiled a bit.

I reflected back on how I collapsed onto my bed when i got home from the Seder Thursday. After a night with the family, I was so tense and, unable to let it go, I tried this "injaculaton" thing one more time. I swear, I thought I was going to spontaneously combust.

I decided to take a question for Mr. coles.
Q: Why don't you trust women who don't masturbate?
A: Because they are either lying to me or insane. Speaking of people I don't trust, I am adding people who eat salt bagels.

And another.
Q: Are you concerned that you are a mysoginst?
A: I am concerned that you used a word that I do not know, and that when I looked it up, you spelled it wrong. Am I concerned? I am concerned that Jorge Julio walked the pitcher and is cannot seem to be get anyone out. I am concerned with the boil on my ass the size of Texas which is preventing me from sitting comfortably. Am I concerned I hate women? As I type this, there are three women sitting on my couch, two of which are my best friends in the world, and the other which I love dearly. Yeah. I hate women.

That bout of anger actually loosened me up, and I started laughing at this afternoon's events. Among other things that amused me today, I saw a white linen shirt today and debated whether I should buy it.
I knew I shouldn't. "What is the over/under on how many times I will wear this before I ruin it?"
"Two," Howie said.
Paige laughed. "Two? Who are you kidding? He's not making it out of the apartment."
Sadly, the smart money is with her.

I really was starting to feel like myself again. Sitting in the bathroom reading my neighbors Post, out of nowhere I reflected upon the prior night's viewing of "The Passion of the Christ." I had a moment of clarity and found myself deep in thought..... If they decided not to crucify Jesus and let him live, dontcha' think the dude would have died of a nasty infection anyway?? I mean, after that beating, what the fuck were they gonna do? I'm reasonably certain they didn't have hyrdrogen peroxide, penicillin, or basetracin back in the late B.C. days/Early A.C days. (Note: In the unedited version, if you listen carefully, you can here the Roman Pontius Pilate say, "Its just a flesh wound.")

Then, during a poignant moment on West Wing, all I could think of was whether anyone had ever been to a funeral where they dropped the casket. I mean, its had to happen to someone, right?

Finally, everyone left and I am left sitting here editing this drivel and trying to do some real work. Work that I blew off until 5:15 p.m. today. Finally, I brought the Appeal to my couch to edit and looked to see what I DVRed to put on in the background. I decided to watch it one more time. It still gives me chills, and I will debate any of you on the topic.

- Kirk Gibson's homer off Dennis Eckersley in Game 1 of the 1988 World Series was the most dramatic, single best sports moment of my lifetime. If that happened in Game 7, it would have been the best sports moment of all time. Bar none. What's more, Jack Buck's call of the home run may be the best sports call of my lifetime, all due respect to Al Michaels. (He came up with that "miracle" line during the second period and he knows it). But Jack Buck's call is one that always stayed with me and still gives me chills. And it seems like at least once a day, I see something and the line echoes in my head. "I don't believe what I just saw."

Yeah. That last one was off topic. But I really have to get to work. As it is, at best I am getting 3 hours of sleep.

(Please scroll to next post for an important message).

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May 3, 2006

2006-04-17T09:28:00.000-05:00

Will post a “real” post by 2:00..

In the meantime, below is the invite for the Spring Fundraiser hosted by Get Together Foundation for the Children & Boss Model Management. It will be a great night, including open bar (7pm-10pm), food, dancing, a silent auction, and raffle prizes. Tickets and Donations

I do hope you will all either come to the event or make a donation, no matter how small. I know it is easy to ignore things like this and we cannot contribute to every charity we come across. But I would very much appreciate it. This money will go directly to buying supplies and books to the most needy children in the city. Ultimately, pictures of us personally delivering these items to these children will be posted here. I think when those pictures go up (and video too if I can figure how to put it up), you will see exactly where your money went and be happy you were directly a part of it.

I am over 1/3 of the way to my goal. If I get there, I promise to tell the story I swore I would never tell on here.

Please click this link to see more information or to buy tickets/make a donation:
Tickets and Donations

Event Details:

When: Wednesday, May 3, 2006
Time: Doors open 7pm
Where: Marquee- 289 10th Avenue (between 26th & 27th), New York City
What: A special evening for the children including Open Bar (7pm-10pm)

Get Together Foundation is a 501(c)(3) tax-exempt charitable organization dedicated to providing young people with the tools they so desperately need to help strengthen and improve their educational and social development. Help us "level the playing field" for New York City's disadvantaged youth.

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Random Collection

2006-04-12T13:17:00.000-05:00

I cannot post today, so I thought I would combine all of the "random thoughts" posts for my newer readers. I just learned the link in "greatest hits" was defective. So here are the 5 blogs combined. I think I am allowed an occasional rerun.

Happy Passover to all.

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- If I was driving 55 miles an hour, how long would it take me to travel a light year?

- Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac is the best song no one seems to have ever heard of.

- Fetching is my favorite word in the dictionary. Smitten is a close second.

"You are quite fetching, you know."
"Why thank you."
"I think I am smitten."

- No matter what a guy tells you, he will remember where he was, what he was wearing, the date, time, and weather the first time he said those three words to a woman. "Got a plunger?"

- I am shocked that there are not more umbrella related accidents. People of unequal height are flailing those things around with no regard for anyone, they are blowing inside and out, they take up half the sidewalk, and there are 8 pointy thingies jetting out of them. And you've never, ever heard of anyone losing an eye. I find that absolutely remarkable.

- 85-90 percent of everything I have accomplished can be attributed to one thing. Spite.

- Whoever said that there is no such thing as a bad blow job has a really small penis.

- In the history of the world, has anything good ever come out of a blind date that your mother set you up on? Why do I still need to explain this to my friends.

- I think people who whistle should be shot.

- How is it that in 2005,I have seen more one-legged dogs in the past 6 months than minorities on the Upper East Side?

- I hated people who wore their collars up on their shirts in 1985. I hate them even more now.

- Dont tell me what "they" say. For example, someone said to me the other day. "As they say, it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. First of all, fuck you. Second, who are these proverbial "they?" Two transvestites living in a studio apartment in Cleveland? Finally, no one who has ever "loved and lost" would ever say something so utterly ridiculous.

- My password is the same for everything. AOL, JDATE, my computer. I change it once in a while (and will shortly). When I do I do legal research on Westlaw, I have to put in the clients name for billing in the same manner I put my password in other places. Recently, I have apparently plugged in the aforesaid password into the client box of Westlaw. The office manager had a hard time finding a file to bill. She popped her head in. "You got a client named MILF?"
"Uy, Um, come in and close the door Julie."
I can't wait to explain this one to customer service at Westlaw.

- When did Veteran's Day become such a big holiday. Every person I know is on their couch watching Saved By the Bell reruns. I didn't even know it was any holiday until around 11:00. Speaking of holidays, I think Purim should be bumped up to the equivalent of Easter. (that is the one with the tent and candy, isn't it?)

- I am getting killed for this, but I gotta tell ya, when you say to someone in a letter or a speech that "Words cannot express how I feel about you..." you are basically saying I am too fucking lazy to think of any words. And you are just not worth the effort. There are a million words out there. Get a damn thesaurus and pick a few. Like fetching.

- Why can't I find a Charleston Chew anywhere. It is bothering me and I am in such a mood. And, as I am wont to do, when I can't have something, I want it that much more. I'm ready to pay 100 bucks for one. If you live on the Upper East Side or work in midtown, please keep your eyes open. Thanks. And, oh yeah. Don't freeze it. Ruins it for me.

- I think people need to set goals in life. My next one is to see how long I can maintain a relationship with a person without ever speaking on the phone. In fact, I want to be engaged without ever hearing her voice on the phone. I believe that with text messaging, e-mails, and IMs, there is simply no reason I should ever have to stand holding a piece of plastic to my ear. If you want me to be the last voice you hear before you go to sleep, get in a cab. (Of course, this is all predicated on my having another relationship, which is become more doubtful with every word I type on this site.)

- I would like to kick the shit out of every person who said they could not believe how beautiful it was out Sunday and how it had not been cold one day yet this fall. I am freezing my ass of because of you. (And because I left my jacket out on Halloween and still haven't picked it up, but that is besides the point). There are some things you just don't say, such as "I can't believe there is no traffic"; "He has a no-hitter going"; and "Yeah, mom. I have been seeing someone." Because within seconds of saying them, they are gone. Since I have been divorced, I have not had a relationship last more than one week after telling my mother about it. It is like the movie "The Ring", and it is uncanny.

- Why is that, with exception of course, many of the craziest and wildest women I have ever met are psychologists. Scary. Very scary.

- If you are hailing a cab and there is not a car for five blocks, you can take your arm down. Even in regular traffic. What do you think is going to happen, a cab is going to fly out the door of Starbucks and you'll miss it. I'm sorry. But that is the kind of stupidity I just cannot tolerate.

- Why? You want to know why? Because wearing a condom is like taking a bath with your socks on. That is why.

- When you are walking down the street and bump into someone you know, but not that well, how do you end that conversation? Let's face it, if either one of us were "running late" we'd be in a cab. I have always believed I can talk myself out of any situation, but I can't manage to get away from my mom's friend's daughter on Second Avenue? I think we should institute a universal three nod rule. Once you have each nodded three times without either person saying a word, both people are required to just walk away without saying another word.

- Did anything good ever come out of going to the bank machine at 4:00 a.m?

- You know you need to work on your social skills when you find out that you were not asked to go to a Knicks game with your friends, and the person I chose instead of you was "Extra Leg Room."

- I for one, would still eat Mr. Softee any time of year.

- If you are on line at Duane Reade and humming along to a Juice Newton song and a very attractive woman comes up behind you, just pay for your shampoo, turn, and walk out of the store. There is simply no recovering from that kind of damage. Speaking of Duane Reade, why is it that at age 36 I am still embarrassed to buy condoms.

- Is it just me, or is it absolutely impossible to masturbate when you know your mother is 100 feet in the way in the living room?

- The next person who gives me a dirty look when I ask them to slide over on the subway is getting sat on.

- When you go on one date with someone and a sufficient amount of time has passed that you know they wont call you (and you won't need to screen), take them out of your cell phone. This way, D, when you decide to call me from a U-2 concert and hold phone up so I can hear "Sunday Bloody Sunday" you don't mistakenly call the Scott you dated six weeks ago who told you on a first date that we wanted to take you home and do untoward things to you.

- Behooved is another word that people do not use nearly enough. So is debacle, but only when said with a hard E (Dee-bacle), In fact, I love every word that starts with De. They are just fun to say.

- Um, when did we get a W train. And where does it go?

- Wasn't it just yesterday it was the Doppler 400? How did we get to Doppler 20,000,000. They grow so fast don't they?

- I would be remiss if I did not note one other "anniversary" that took place on Monday. The Slinky turned 68. To this day, I have never successfully gotten the fucker to slink down a full flight of stairs. Stop laughing. I'll still kick your ass in tetherball.

- You really need to start re-thinking things when you meet your friends at diner at 11:00 on a Wednesday night to rehash your dates, you order a vodka on the rocks, they order wine, and the three of you are all sending raunchy text messages to each other while you are sitting next to each other. (Yeah, Ill be productive tomorrow).

- If you take a picture for an internet dating service, please, I implore you, stop posing as if you were caught in a candid moment. You look ridiculous. Of course, at least you are not as bad as those people whose only picture of them is the one they took of themselves in the mirror. You not only look ridiculous, but you are broadcasting that you do not have a single friend.

- I don't care how "in" it is, you will never, ever see me wearing a velvet blazer. But, yes Pressman, it looks great on you. And until everyone starts calling you "The Velvet Fog", no, I am not going to stop saying it.

- Speaking of clothes, do people get turned down for jobs at Bloomingdales if they are not gay enough? And I have a problem with this. Because I can't buy anything without the approval of someone or it looks good on a mannequin. And I was alone last week and had to rely on this guy and, if it was up to him, I would have walked out of there with jeans two sizes to small and a t-shirt that was painted on me. (There's a nice image for ya').

---I see a group of pirates engaged the Navy this weekend. Um, when did Pirates make a comeback? Was it before or after valore, I didn't get the memo. And what exactly qualifies you to call yourself a pirate anyway? Is there a Union?

---In watching the NCAA tournament this weekend, I had but one question. When did Billy Packer become Ralph Kiner?

---Note to people over 50.....Every time a doctor touches you, you cannot claim to have had "a procedure." It was a throat culture Aunt Bev, not "a procedure."

---I still use the word album by mistake once in a while. "Did you hear the new U-2 Album????" Put this on the list with walkman, fridgedaire, Kleenex and, of course, valise. Speaking of words, unfettered is another word that is not used nearly enough.

--I think that of all the really fucked up and embarrassing things I have done in the past year, the hands down number one was putting the song "Bare Naked" by Jennifer Love Hewitt on my Ipod.

--Why do I want to go for a drink with you and "catch up?" Catch up? What are we "catching up" on? It's not like I haven't seen you since 1993. I saw you three weeks ago.

--By a show of hands, do you know anyone in the world who has even contemplated buying season one of Gimme a Break on DVD? If so, please send me their e-mail address.

--It is 2006, and still, directions to home theater systems, etc. do not incorporate the cable box. 40 diagrams and not ONE on how to run this fucking thing through a cable box. When I got this new thing in February, the over/under on when I would have it correctly installed was April 1. The over is looking really, really good. I have unpacked from my vacation though, so those who bet the under can go cash in.

--Can we all agree that anything men say after 3 or more drinks does not count? I think if we finally came to that express understanding, we would all be better off. I mean, just because we held your hand as we walked down the street at 2:30 in the morning, it does not mean that we want to do the same at 2:30 the afternoon in the supermarket. Deal?

-- How easy is it really to "shoot a fish in a barrel?" I mean, has anyone ever even attepted this?? I gotta believe this would not be easy at all, especially considering if you miss the little fucker, you've shot a hole in the barrel and you are not going to get another shot.

-- I would like the minutes from the meeting when Aventis came up Extended Release Ambien. Something seems just so wrong about that. "For those who just can't sleep past noon anymore...." I really think they are just laughing at us at this point.

-- If you feel compelled to spend your entire paycheck betting the pick 4 using every permutation of your birthday, anniversary, and day you were released from prison, fine. That is your business. But I am not goint to patiently wait on line behind you, especially if I need something urgent, like a Twinkie.

-- Dumbest question I was asked in 2005: "Scott, what would you do with a 23 year old girl?" Oh, young Skywalker...much to learn about men, you have.

-- I dont trust people three types of people.. men who dont drink, women who don't masturbate, and anyone whose favorite candy of the four is Special Dark.

-- Please don't force "dirty talk." I mean, if it doesn't come from somewhere genuine inside you, you can sound really stupid. (Think Keanu Reeves in Hamlet). These are the same people who get a daily planner from their Secret Santa and scream, "OH MY GOD! I LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE IT" like they got a four carat diamond. Sometimes, its ok to nod and say thanks for the effort.

-- Last minutes scratches from the recently released Katrina Benefit Album

1. Galveston - Glenn Campbell
2. Walking on Sunshine - Katrina and the Waves
3. When the Levy Breaks - Led Zeppelin

-- Fuck "Lost", I want to know when I can get the entire series of "Good Times" on DVD.

-- Ok. I admit it. I watched Mean Girls 8 times in the last month and loved every second of it.

-- Stop asking me if I need anything when I am sick. You don't mean it and you know it. From now on, I don't care who you are and where you live. If you ask me if I need anything, I am saying yes.

-- I recently went on a date with a girl who had no idea that the recent Bad News Bears movie was a remake. I think that will be my age litmus test. If I ever use this j-date thing again, I will require that any woman who I meet knows who Kelly Leak, Engleberg and Lupus are. Or at least one of them.

-- Speaking of J-date, what exactly is this "zest for life" all these people keep talking about? Listen, its winter, be happy if I make it to work on time every day. From here until April, "tolerance for life" is the best you are getting from me.

-- It is simply not the same when a 30 year old woman beds a 15 year old boy as when a 30 year old man beds a 15 year old girl. And, on behalf of 15 year old boys everywhere, not only should this not be crime, but should be encouraged. There, I said it.

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April 8, 2006: I'm getting old.....

2006-04-11T13:10:00.000-05:00

First off, if you are a Mets fan (or even a Yankee fan), you have to see this. Game Six Re-enactment. It is better than anything you could read here today.

That and I really don't feel like writing anything. This TREO thing has me bummed. Not only were there tons of notes on there for future topics (tons of random thoughts), but every text I have EVER sent is saved in individual logs. And they had such sentimental value to me (I can be quite a sap, you know). Not to mention drunk texts, flirting, and some of the best text sex you have ever seen. (I had to bang on the door to get my friend Gary out of the bathroom with it once). And, of course, there are some very incriminating pics on there.... Fuuuuuck. Well, I am sure the battery is dead by now and no one is going to care enough to buy a charger.

Other than that, here are some pics from the other night. None were really that entertaining and I surely wasn't taking any, but since I have been asked, I will throw up a couple that might be remotely amusing. And I don't look too fucked up in. But if you weren't there and want pics of people standing around looking shitfaced, email me and I will send you other people's Ofotos.

----------------

Your co-hosts.

I can always count on Billy to make me seem sober....

Dana finally makes the blog...

Josh still looking for that elusive threesome....

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Sari has her affectionate drunk on...

I still say it was conditioner!

Young Love. How Beautiful...

.... I don't even want to know.

Um..... Ok, Marvin.

I thought you guys were going to prevent this....

... Ok. Someone put me to bed already.

Until next year.

Anyhoo....Thanks for all the love Saturday night. I really, really appreciated it. I am very lucky to have such good friends. Seriously. Now if I can just find some who don't stick me with the bill when they leave, I'll be set.....

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If you need to reach me....

2006-04-11T08:50:00.000-05:00

Will post later... In meantime, to all my friends, please be advised that I lost my TREO Saturday night. And, of course, I never backed anything up. Actually, I tried and it didnt work for some reason. So, anyone who has texted me since around 10:00 Sat night, I did not get it. If you need me, email me. And if you said anything important since Sat at 10:00 p.m., please resend.

Thanks.

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Through The Years

2006-04-10T06:33:00.000-05:00

It all started innocently enough...

4 Weeks: Who is this broad? She seems nice. Um, can I have a kiss?

Heeeeeeeeey!!!! Don't go. Sigh. I suppose this explains the attachment disorder....

"You know what time it is!"

5 months old and already we have a little "situation."

=

Iiiiiiiiiii aint got noboooooooody.... Listen here (Sorry. Couldn't resist. If you don't get it, just move along.)

The first birthday bash. I remember as much about this one as I do about last night.

Age 2: The Devil, The Early Years

Age 3: Frst day of day camp. If memory serves, I pissed myself on the bus.

At my 4th birthday party, someone forgot the "party favors." Look at the look of disappointment on our faces. Glad that didn't happen last night....

At age 5, I liked to wrestle with balloons. I had forgotten all about that, but now I understand why I had such a reaction last week when I found the balloon fetish videos. www.balloonFetishVideos.com

At age 6, I thought I was soooooooo cool. Had I known that I would be driving that monstrosity of a Cadilac 11 years later......

The 7th B-day. Already such a putz.

Age 8. Later that night, that can of cheese whiz ended up that kids ass, and we were not allowed to go the canteen for a week.

At 9, my first "french kiss." I tried to go up her shirt and she slapped me in the face.

Jr High School: "Pain heals. Chicks dig scars. Glory lasts forever."

1983-1987: Commack South High School

Freshman: Note the cool ring...

Sophomore: 2/12/85. Lost my virginity. How long? On the way in.....

Junior: Note the red pants. uyuyuyu.

Senior: This was three months after the infamous Florida incident when I was almost arrested. This is Gil pictured here, who popped up and saved me from getting arrested. "Officer, I saw the whole thing...

1987-1991: University of Maryland.

Freshman

Sophomore: To be seen shortly on "Before They Were Stars" - (Can you guess who that is? (See below for answer).

Junior: Me and Sis.

Senior:

1991-1994: Brooklyn Law School:

First Year: Fell of a barstool.

Second Year: On Mushrooms at Disney Land.

Third Year

The Married Years: 1995-1997:

1998: After that did not take, I took of for a year and, in my first day living in Vail, I missed the exit ramp and drove into a ditch while lighting a cigarette. Shocking I know.

1998-2000: Started my own lawfirm and threw myself into work, and other people's families.

2001-2003 - Closed my firm for undisclosed reasons and threw myself into a few Big Macs. (This should explain a lot about my recent dip into the "fountain of youth")

From bad...

...to worse...

...to I can't believe I just showed you this picture..

2003-2006: Inch by inch

"We're in hell right now, gentlemen. Believe me.
And we can stay here, get the shit kicked out of us,
Or we can fight our way back into the light.
We can climb out of hell, one inch at the time.
I look around, I see these young faces, and I think...
I mean, I made every wrong choice a middle-aged man can make.
I pissed away all my money, believe it or not.
I chased off anyone who's ever loved me.
And lately, I can't even stand the face I see in the mirror.
You know, when you get old in life, things get taken from you.
That's part of life.
But you only learn that when you start losing stuff."

4/8/2006: To follow. Not as innocent as it started....

--------------
Before They Were Stars: Answer

Then:

Now: If I would have known how she was going to turn out, I would not have let her get away.

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Another 18 Holes Played...

2006-04-07T12:53:00.000-05:00

(LATE NOTE: While I will discuss in greater detail, the invites are going out for my charity party at Marquee, May 3, 2006. please click here to see invite... Invite and here for my personal page regarding the event. You know I am going to bother you every way short of carrier pigeons, so click and get it over with. Scott' Personal Page)
----------------------

So this will be my last writing as a 36 year old. Have been working on a special birthday edition which I will post tomorrow at some point, so not much to say today.

Nothing really changes I suppose from 36 to 37, except that I will no longer be in the acceptable age range for most women in their late 20s. That and they my target heart rate will be different on the elliptical thingy. Other than that, a real non-event.

But, of course, since when do I need a reason for an event? So I look forward to seeing and celebrating with many of you tomorrow night. Be aware that by entering, you expressly grant me permission to put your pic on here. (The crew of Real Girls of Spring Break have been hired for the event). Seriously though, you not only have permission, but are encouraged to tap me on the shoulder when I get that "look" I get in my eyes. You know, this one.....

Sad, but true, quote of the day:

"Did you pick out what you are going to wear Saturday night?"
"Are you fucking insane?"
"Come on. It's your birthday! Sari did."
"Sari is a girl."
"So?"
"I'll be lucky if I'm not begging Laurie to help me wash my jeans at 5:00 while I run to Scoop to by a clean shirt!"
"Funny."
"Funny? What do you think goes on over at my apartment before I go out?"

On that note, see you all tomorrow night. And for those of you have asked, my co-birthday party host, Sari is below. Be sure to wish her a happy b-day.

And for my single friends, she is not only really cute, but can tell you the entire starting lineup for the '86 Mets.

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Flashback to October...

2006-04-06T09:57:00.000-05:00

Just was pulled away for another fucking fire drill. My boss would not let me stay in the office, despite the fact that I was on the phone in intense negotiations. He had to have heard me yelling. Does he not realize that I don't have one guy on my fantasy baseball team that will steal more than 10 bases?? I have no time for fire drills. I need speed!

Anyhoo, it reminded me of one of my earliest and very well received rambling diatribe about fire drills, bathroom etiquite and other assorted love songs. Since most of you were probably not reading back then, thought I would link it since I probably wont be able to get anything else up until late afteroon.

Click here: Don't touch me

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5 Minutes 'til Wapner...

2006-04-05T11:13:00.000-05:00

Tonight I embark on yet another adventure. Like the others, it is one fraught with danger and on that I perhaps should reconsider. Tonight, I take a class which will qualify me to be small claims court judge. Actually, I am going to be an "arbitrator" which parties can present evidence to instead of an actual trial. I will still make the same rulings and decisions as a judge though. A modern day Harry Stone.

I cannot wait until the first time someone accuses the other person of having the "unmitigated gall" to do something, at which time I will bang the gavel and order the other party to mitigate his gall in my courtroom. Actually, I don't think I am getting a gavel, but if I did, I'd be banging it.

Anyhoo... I can now cross this off the "things I want to do before I die list." Hoping to cross of a few more at my b-day party Sat. night. :)).

Oh. And here is the picture I have been promising you. Again, for it to have any relevance, you have to read My Family Tree. So here is my Aunt, Magic and Uncle, The Reverend Tree.

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Help Wanted

2006-04-04T13:00:00.000-05:00

Today, I have fulfilled one of my lifelong dreams. Not only am I am getting my own intern, but even more fun, I will get to do the interviewing. Soon, law students will sit across from me and I will ask them questions which will, undoubtedly, be designed solely to entertain me.

"So. If you were an animal, what kind of animal would you be. And why?"..."Which Muppet do you relate to the most?"...."I know Thursday is considered a weekend night, so at what capacity can I expect you to work on a Friday?"..."I think Pavoratti oversings. Your thoughts?"..."What is your motto?"

Truth is, interview will be no different that anything else. In all seriousness, when i talk to people, the words that come out of their mouths mean so little to me. It is never what is said, but how it is said. It will be how they interact, their body language, tone, the way she walks, are her lips full or thin, what she would look like... Um, my bad. Ok. Where was I. Oh yeah. I meant to say, the way he or she carries him or herself.

Uy. This is a really, really bad idea. Josh just set the over/under on how long until I am slapped with a lawsuit as May 16th.

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Like I always say....

2006-04-03T22:12:00.000-05:00

I was IMing with someone before, and she wrote, "Well, my motto has always been, 'never burn any bridges'" This really made me think....

I don't have a motto. And I really think I should. Or, at the very least, a credo.

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40 is the next 20?

2006-04-03T12:50:00.000-05:00

Reading "New York Magazine" on the plane last night made me feel sooooo much better about myself. Remember the existential crap I was talking about last week? I felt guilty because, as crazy as it sounded, damn, I was just having too much fun. But now it seems that I am not the only person in his or her mid 30s who, according to their married friends, "refuses to grow up." See article: Forever Youngish In fact, it seems like I am part of some movement. Cool. I've always wanted to be part of a movement.

Of course, now that it is fashionable to be a lush at 35, I will probably start staying home, playing Scrabble, and get married within 6 months. I might even start wearing "slacks."

(I am going to try something new for a bit. Instead of always writing really long posts incorporating many thoughts, I am going to go also mix in smaller blurbs for a while. I will probably post a few times a day if that is the case. We'll see....)

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Can I still get an exit row?

2006-03-30T16:51:00.000-05:00

Someone told me recently that I was both the smartest and dumbest person they knew. I suppose today would be a case in point. Well, at least as far as the latter. I mean, you have to try and be this fucking stupid.

For this trip, I started out smart. I actually packed before I went to sleep. And it all went off without a hitch. I got up at 4:30, hopped into the shower, got out, got dressed, grabbed my bag and got into a cab. I closed my eyes as we went across the 59th St. Bridge and fell asleep. It seemed like seconds later, we were there.

I came to and groggily paid the cab driver as I got out. I gave the curbside check-my ID. "West Palm."
He typed away. Clickety click click... "Hmm.." Click. Click. More clicking. "Do you have your itinerary?"
"No." I reached into my pocket, even though I knew it wasn't there. "I never needed it before."
"Well, I don't have you on this flight?"
"Um, could you please check again. There has to be a mistake."
Clickety click. "Nope."
"Is there another flight that I might be on by mistake."
"You are not on any flight, sir," he said. "If you had your itinerary, it would be helpful. Why don't you try inside."
I tried to log onto my TREO, but couldn't connect. I contemplated calling my father, but did not want to hear it. Fortunately, I connected finally on the TREO and found the email just as I was called to the counter. I explained what happened outside and showed him the screen."
He scanned the screen. "Sir. You're flying out of Kennedy...."
"I know where I am fly....Wait. Where am I?"
"You are at Laguardia."
I grabbed my temples. Uy. No wonder the cab was so cheap. I knoow I told him Kennedy. What the fuck is wrong with me????? I took a deep breathe. "Can I change it to the flight from here?"
He pointed out that I had plenty of time to get to Kennedy. For once, leaving very early actually paid off. So I went outside, and no cabs came. Finally, I hailed down a car service and I was off. Plenty of time. Until traffic came to a complete halt on the Van Wyck. I still got to Kennedy with some time to spare. But, of course, things just don't go that smoothly for me. For some reason, the line at the security checkpoint was as long as it is during Thanksgiving. I thought about using the I have no ID routine (I'll explain later), but I would have had to do that before I checked in. I surveyed the line and noticed some daylight on the right.

"Excuse me, coming through... Excuse me..." I got up to the front where I said I had an emergency, blah blah blah. and I couldn't miss flight. Blah blah blah. Please help. I feigned some panic, although I was actually remarkably calm. You may find this hard to believe, but I have been in this kind of situaton before. (Like when I lost my passport on the way into Turks and Caicos.) Not only did she let me through, but she helped me bypass the smaller lines leading up to each detector.

So, in the end, I even had a few minutes to spare, and darted into the newsstand to pick up a book. When I finally got to the gate, they asked if I was Mr. Stern. Huh? Apparently, they wanted to shuffle off a few minutes early and keep track of who has checked in but is not there. How mighty nice of them to wait. As they checked my ticket, I realized I forgot to buy Afrin to clear up my sinuses. I looked back over my shoulder and was gonna see if I could run back, but didn't want to push it.

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Update: On location

2006-03-30T14:51:00.000-05:00

Check back around 5. I'm in Florida on a loungechair drooling on myself. Gotta get my than will update quickly before I have to eat. uy.

For those who asked and did not see my response in comment. The aforesaid site yesterday is www.aebn.net.

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Where's Linda Lovelace?

2006-03-29T00:04:00.000-05:00

So my friend tells me that he has found, by far, the best porn site on the web. Now, I am not one to sit and beat off while sitting in front of my computer.... well, not often at least...but in the interest of journalistic integrity, I have to check it out.

On this site, they have pretty much every porn movie ever made. And, the beauty ist is that you pay by the minute. So, if you were so inclined, instead of hitting porn on demand and paying 11 bucks, it comes out to 8.5 cents a minute. Well, 17 cents later, I'm on the couch and have already ordered Chinese. You do the math.

Not only is this a bargain, but you can specifically search and cross match and pretty much find anything you want. It really is amazing. And they go "old school" too. And I don't mean just Raquel Darrien, I am talking Seka.

Now, in doing some random searches - again, all in the name of journalism, I scrolled through one of the pulldowns where you can narrow the search by "niche" and mix and match. There was your standard fare, starting with the "A"s.... All girl... All sex...Amatuer...Amputee...Anal.... um, back up. What was that? No. No they didn't. Did they?? Holy shit they did. AMPUTEES??? Now, if this was not bad enough (hey, even I have my limits), the third one on the page is an amputee/bondage combination. Now, I did not - and will not - watch this, but the cover is right there. And, after much consideration, I am not going to show it here. I have to draw the line somewhere.

Anyhoo....so the list goes on and among normal things like marrowing the search by "blondes", "blowjobs", "lesbian", "masurbation", "orgies", etc.... they had other whacked out shit, including, but not limited to: "midget", "vampires", "wheelchair", "milking", "catfights", "menstruation", "balloons", "grannies"... wait. what was that? Balloons? What the hell is that???? Click. You gotta be shittin' me....

I was getting up to leave, having satisfied my morbid curiosity about the serious depravity of some people, when I saw it out of the corner of my eye. Among the aforesaid categories such as "amputee", "wheelchair" and "menstruation" was the category "Other." OTHER???? What in THE hell could possibly be in "OTHER" when you have gone so far to specifically list categories such as "pissing", "smothering", "pedal pumping", and "pony play"...........

I don't even want to know and am scared to look. In any event, as sick as this all is, it must be noted in all seriousness how far we have come. I can actually sit at my computer and search for porn that specifically features blonde midgets in a wheelchair with small tits. As offensive as it might be to some, it is simply amazing. The truth is that, even for us normal man, there is something very comforting about knowing that I can search and access any scene from the 54 episodes of Hustlers Barely Legal in seconds. In high definition, no less.

I mean, was it not just yesterday that I was sitting in front of the tv jiggling the knob on the cable box, trying to get a glimpse of a tit between the static???

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Patient Zero

2006-03-28T14:11:00.000-05:00

After fighting it for a week, I finally went to the doctor. Much to my surprise, he said, "Yep. There's a nasty bug going around." And I asked him, deadly serious, if he ever said to a patient. "Wow. I can't believe you are sick. There is nothing going around right now." He ignored me and started writing me a scrip.

Now, mind you, when I called and got him on the phone, he would not just call in a scrip for me. I had to come in. When I came in, I told him exactly what I told him on the phone. Then he listened to me breath, looked in my throat and ears and nodded. "They are pretty red. Looks like you have an upper respiratory infection." No bloodwork. No cultures. I didn't pee in a cup or sneeze in a tissue. He could have at least given me a prostrate exam..... Yuck. That is not even funny. Anyhoo, where was I? Oh yeah. There was simply no reason for me to have gone to his office, and I am annoyed by this.

Funny thing is that I keep hearing about people from my party who are also sick. Looking through the pic, it is not surprising. This is obviously one contagious little fucker. Wonder who brought it. My money is Danielle. She was the first one to go to the doctor, so.... Anyhoo, based on the suprising demand, I posted a bunch of pics. I only had a few minutes, so there is limited commentary.

Everyone was having a nice time.....

We had a cake....

Then kicked it up a notch....

We all had our affectionate drunk on.......

Not really sure what the hell was going on at this point...

Uyuyuyuy.

Picture of the night:

I think the background shot of Sari trying to get her coat is hilarious. The look on my face. Not so much......

And on that note.....

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My Family

2006-03-27T13:50:00.000-05:00

My post regarding my party on Saturday was rejected by my editor. I always (usually) give advanced copies to those who are mentioned or implicated in my blogs. Most of the time, there is no problem, sometimes I have to tinker, and on rare occasion - such as today - I have to abandon the topic altogether.

I, unfortunately, do not have anything else at the moment. So I am just going to spew out whatever comes to mind. I am tired and I need to go to sleep. I guess I will be okay as long as it doesn't involve shampoo.... Click and Scroll down to bottom for related topic

Anyhoo.....When I got home from my all day fantasy baseball draft, I had a small cleaning party. Place was a wreck. When we were done, a few more people came, including Biener who was so excited that we extended the weekend. We ordered in Chinese, watched West Wing and the Sopranos, and issued denials and established alibis for the night before. At one point, I looked around the room. I thought of my friend who went to Barney with the kids today, and all my married friends who went home from the draft to be with their families.

I shook my head, again getting that pang of guilt. "We are in our thirties. This is just not normal behavior for a 36 year old man?"
"What is normal anyway?" Danielle said.
"I know what you mean," I said as I stole a dumpling off Laurie's plate. "But, under any possible definition of the word normal, this does not come remotely fucking close."
Josh laughed. "Why? Because Beiner thinks this is the Sammy house and wants to put letters above your door?"

That was "legit funny" as he likes to say, but the truth is, for all the shit my married friends give me, I kinda' do have a family. And as twisted as we may be, we are as happy as any of theirs.

Um, why do I feel like Doogie Howser right now. Someone cue that annoying music as I type......

Anyhoo... I will add a few pics below later when I get approval. Check back....

In the News

2006-03-24T14:02:00.000-05:00

I'm thinking this will not bode well for his bid for Presidency

February 20, 2006 -- Gov. Pataki's scheduled release from the hospital following appendix surgery was nixed because of a minor complication, doctors said yesterday.
The state's top pol has been unable to move his bowels since undergoing emergency appendectomy late last week, and his doctors say he'll have to stay put until he does.

"His bowels have not started moving as we expect them to — and as we would like them to. So we are going to have to keep him," said Dr. Wiji Ratnathicam, the senior attending surgeon at Hudson Valley Hospital Center in upstate Cortlandt Manor.

Ambien Link to Amnesia is No Surprise to Doctors See. And no one believed me!!!

I had noticed that sometimes when I took Ambien, I would not recall certain things. And no one beleived me. Also, when I get sick, I sometimes get a really high fever and a few times have even become delirious.

This past winter when I had shingles, it was the "perfect storm." High fever, Ambien, and a little Vicodin thrown in. And on this night, someone got to see me in action. She watched as I got up and went to sleep on top of a box in my closet; I asked her (at different times): if we were still going to the square dance; why she stole my red pants, and if she was the nurse, how come the tv hanging from my ceiling didn't work. (These were the ones we remember.). I also went and sat down at my computer and started typing. Fortunately, she stopped me.

You see, one day last year, I had a high fever and proceeded to sit down at my computer and rattle off 30 testimonials for my friends on "Friendster." I think 3 were accepted by them for publication. Most of them were gibberish that made no sense, and in others I said things such as "I always wanted to bang your sister." Then, it seems, I wrote a long letter to someone I recognized from the gym. Just to introduce myself. She seemed nice. uyuyuy. Our common friend thought I was on crack, and didn't believe I had no recollection of this. We actually got into a fight over this! Needless to say, I was mortified. The funny thing is, me and that person have become friends, and are now having our b-day party together in a few weeks. In any event, I just like telling that story..

Finally, I came across this lovely nugget of advice for men and women in my reading. For women who are new to self-indulgence (apparently 38 percent of you still dont)....

".....Then, when you're completely comfortable with your body, move your hands between your legs. If this is difficult or uncomfortable for you, start slow. Get out a hand mirror and a flashlight and look at yourself. Many women have never done this before and have no idea what they look like. In order to feel completely comfortable masturbating, you need to understand your anatomy. Pull your labia apart and examine your clitoris and vaginal opening....."

--- Um, unless you are Michelle Disler, I think that is gonna be hard to do while holding a hand mirror and a flashlight. But that is nothing compared to what they suggest we do....

While male masturbation tends to be focused on the penis, many men really enjoy stimulating other areas, such as the testicles, anus, prostate, inner thighs or nipples. If you haven't tried stroking one of these areas while you masturbate, give it a go. You might really like it! You can also try one of the following techniques:

---Place your hands on either side of your shaft and start spinning it like it's a stick of wood you're trying to start a fire with. Proceed gently, you want gentle friction, not burning flames!
---"Force" your penis into your closed fist as though you are penetrating it. Repeat the motion with your other hand, interchanging hands at the end of each stroke.
Use your open palm to swirl around the head of your penis, the way your tongue would lick an ice cream cone.
---Turn the head of his penis like you're trying to open a door knob coated with grease. Now try turning the other way. Repeat.
---Stroke only your shaft, ignoring the head, which will swell and turn red. When it's bright red and rock hard, stimulate it gently with your fingers.
---Here's a complicated move from The Society for Human Sexuality: Take the penis in both hands, fingers lightly touching the sides of the shaft. In order to visualize the position, think of yourself holding a clarinet. Now flick the penis back and forth between your two hands by holding on to the loose skin of the shaft. Shuttling it back and forth in this manner may not seem incredibly thrilling at first, but pretty soon, as it builds up momentum, it will drive you out of your mind. Orgasms encountered via this method are sometimes messy, but always memorable.

I would comment more, but I am misread the third one and after unsuccessfully attempting to open my door with my penis, I went to take the garbage out. I forgot there was grease on it, fell, and now I have to go to the ER. Hope the tip of my penis is still not brick read and swollen when I get there.....

Ask Mr. Coles, Part III

2006-03-23T13:56:00.000-05:00

Q: I bet you would get many more questions if you gave people an anonymous email address to write from! Do you want the one I set up? The address is questionforcoles@hotmail.com, and the password is scottstern (or sstern).
A: I will post the info. Based on some questions and screen names, it appears others already have done so. Now anyone can log in under that account and email me questions. Of course, a few of you will use it for stalking your exes and get her arrested, but we'll cross that subpoena when we come to it.

Q: Its hard for me to have an orgasm and can only have one when I do it myself. I met a guy recently and like him... but he got so upset when I did it and thinks that I touched myself the other night while we were having sex and he freaked. What should I do.
A: Break up with him. Immediately. If that is not an option, option, I suppose if you said his name while you did it, it could soothe this shmuck's ego. There is nothing more pleasing to a person than the sound of his or her name. If you tell him how much you want him, blah blah blah, while you are touching yourself, there could be some association built and he will actually encourage you to. At least that is what Tony Robbins would say.

Q: My boyfriend never forgave me for some terrible things which I said and did. It really bothers me, but even now he wont listen. Our mutual friends also dont talk to me. I dont blame them. How can I? I [what was said and done deleted] Do i keep trying or do you think i should just let it go.
A: My experience has been that when you finally forgive yourself for the fucked up shit you did, everything else just falls into place.

Q: Do you prefer a butterfly vagina or a flower vagina.
A: When I pick myself up of the floor, I will try and answer....I wish I could pass it off as my own, but I cannot.

Q: I still think about [him] every day. When will it stop?
A; I think there is another step before you stop thinking about him everyday. First, you will still think about him, but it will not hurt. There wont be any feeling associated with thinking about him. He will just cross your mind every day. And then one day you will realize you hadn't thought about him in days. Then longer. And you will realize that kinda sucks too in a way. Until you meet someone else to drive you insane.

Q: I constantly end up with guys who treat me like shit... do you have thoughts on this mr. bear? whats my deal?
A: You are a masochist. You can spend countless hours of therapy and an untold fortune trying to figure out why (at which time you wont change anyway). Or you can just roll with it and start going to S&M clubs. Let me know how that works out for you.

Q: Dude. Do you really think you should admit you like Sarah Mclachlan?
A: You’re right. One more slip up like that and someone will think I have "cooties."

Q: Where did this whole Mr. Coles things come from. And why not just call him Lavernious??
A: Uy. Many years ago, my "nickname" was Vern. Started 20 years ago and there are still many people who call me it. When the Jets drafted Lavernious Coles, many people started calling me Lavernious. (Yes, I know it is spelled wrong). In fact, up until last summer, my AOL screenname was Lavernious. In any event, last year I had bought the Lavernious Coles Jersey for a doggie friend of mine, but due to a Restraining Order and other language contained in the Penal Law, I could not give said dog said Jersey. I found it while looking for my folding chair for the Jets home opener last year and brought it with me. When I went into the Stationary Store to get the Post, I saw the bear. I bought the bear and put on the Jersey. And that is how he came to be. How the hell his name became "Mr. Coles" I do not have a clue.

Q: Do men truly know and understand how they literally "measure" up to other
men? In other words, do men know how large or small their penis size is compared to other men?
A: That it is a very good question. I think men with very large or very small penises know, but the average guy has probably deluded himself into thinking it is big, and you know who he is because he still says really retarded things like "its the motion in the ocean" or crap like that. I dunno, do women know?? This, it would seem, is more difficult. To the naked eye they may be the same (the butterfly/flower debate notwithstanding), so regarding depth and width, how would a heterosexual woman know that it is abnormal that I can store a step ladder in there.

Q: Do you always use a condom?
A: What's a condom?

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I'm gonna need a Payment Plan

2006-03-21T13:57:00.000-05:00

I have some strange habits. One of them is that I pick up my mail approximately every two weeks. Hey, I know what is in there. Bills, some magazines and junk. I mean, its not like I am going to get a surprise letter from my girlfriend from camp. Clearly, anything else that comes to me by mail cannot be good. And if it is so earth shattering that it can't wait in my box a bit, then I am sure somebody would have called by now. As far as your thank you card, your welcome. Now leave me alone. In the end, if something slips by this system, so be it. But I would rather be aggravated twice a month rather then play Russian Roulette every day with my mailbox key.

So I have this mound of mail nestled in my arms as I walk to the elevator. I see the corner of a large envelope. Uy. I try to shift everything around (I am carrying my bag also), but can't get it open with my teeth. I took a deep breath. What does the IRS want from my life now? Fortunately, the last time I dealt with them they ended up sending me a refund years later out of the blue. Hey, maybe its another check!

Not exactly.

Click here to read just as I did.

Can you imagine opening that up? This is not good. Not good at all. Of course, this is a gruesome error. But now I have to deal with this though. What if this takes a while to work out? I mean, do I have my own file sitting on someone's desk? Is some Alonzo Mosely looking dude in dark sunglasses gonna come knock on my door? Could my wages be garnished in the meantime? Accounts frozen? Properties seized...Wait. I don't have properties.

I took a deep breath. Well, I can't deal with this since it is now Friday evening. I am meeting someone for a drink in 23 minutes and have to change. And the lightbulb just blew and I will be unable to see into my closet. I looked around the room. What would Jack Bauer do?? I am not sure if he would have gone with toss the letter onto my desk and swig out of a bottle of vodka, but it worked for me.

(Epilogue; I have since spoken to the IRS and my file has been closed, and my vast empire will not be liquidated.).

More Random Thoughts

2006-03-20T14:07:00.000-05:00

(Completely unedited. I have a cold, my throat hurts, and I am too cranky to deal. But I wanted to post something, so.....)

I see a group of pirates engaged the Navy this weekend. Um, when did Pirates make a comeback? Was it before or after valore, I didn't get the memo. And what exactly qualifies you to call yourself a pirate anyway? Is there a Union?

In watching the NCAA tournament this weekend, I had but one question. When did Billy Packer become Ralph Kiner?

Note to people over 50.....Every time a doctor touches you, you cannot claim to have had "a procedure." It was a throat culture Aunt Bev, not "a procedure."

I still use the word album by mistake once in a while. "Did you hear the new U-2 Album????" Put this on the list with walkman, fridgedaire, Kleenex and, of course, velice. Speaking of words, unfettered is another word that is not used nearly enough.

I think that of all the really fucked up and embarrassing things I have done in the past year, the hands down number one was putting the song "Bare Naked" by Jennifer Love Hewitt on my Ipod.

Why do I want to go for a drink with you and "catch up?" Catch up? What are we "catching up" on? It's not like I havent seen you since 1993. I saw you three weeks ago.

By a show of hands, do you know anyone in the world who has even contemplated buying season one of Gimme a Break on DVD? If so, please send me their e-mail address.

It is 2006, and still, directions to home theater systems, etc. do not incorporate the cable box. 40 diagrams and not ONE on how to run this fucking thing through a cable box. When I got this new thing in February, the over/under on when I would have it correctly installed was April 1. The over is looking really, really good. I have unpacked from my vacation though, so those who bet the under can go cash in.

Can we all agree that anything men say after 3 or more drinks does not count? I think if we finally came to that express understanding, we would all be better off. I mean, just because we held your hand as we walked down the street at 2:30 in the morning, it does not mean that we want to do the same at 2:30 the afternoon in the supermarket. Deal?

Update

2006-03-20T12:55:00.000-05:00

Will post around 3

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Bracket Buster - 1804

2006-03-17T13:48:00.000-05:00

The fact of the matter is that there is nothing we can do about most of the every day injustices that happen in life. The Cable guy didn't show.... What was I going to do, threaten to switch to RCN? My friend sent a picture of my penis to everyone in his phone address book... What was I going to do, beat him up? And now I find out that someone repeatedly betrayed my trust and got me into a lot of trouble. What am I going to do? Tell her ex-boyfriend about how she hacked into his phone and computer and deleted emails from women he was dating?

No. As much fun as the train wreck that would ensue would be, I can't do those things. I know I have to just let it roll of my back and shrug. Be an adult. And that is what I am going to do. But I keep wondering... Isn't there some other option besides doing nothing and taking childlike revenge. And then it hit me... How about I just shoot her in the fucking head.

I am serious. Did you know that in the late 1700s, if you pissed me off, it was my unalienable right to challenge you to a duel?? And, in the social order of things, you really could not say no. Really, this was legal and an accepted method of resolving disputes. There was even a written code and rules of engagement. Rules of Dueling See also The History of Dueling I mean, Hamilton was the Secretary of Treasury and Burr was a Senator runnng for governor of New York for christ's sake! These guys could duel, but I gotta listen to this shmuck telling people I am dating someone who I don't even know?? (As an aside, Burr was a 12 seed and Hamilton a 5 seed. George Washington was really pissed because he had Hamilton going to the final four).

Anyhoo... A bit of a tangent today, I know. But think about it. What a great deterrent that would be. Not only will people mind their own business, but I guarantee that those idiots at China Fun will stop forgetting to bring me a fork.

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Politically Incorrect

2006-03-15T13:57:00.000-05:00

Can we all please agree that, in certain circumstances, it is okay to refer to an African American friend as "the black guy." And I don't just mean ones that have rested their balls on my forehead or sat and took pictures of it. For example, the other day I said "black guy" in the cab and my friend's shushed me, as if I just insulted the cab driver.

Me: "Al is one of the greatest guys I have ever met. Great people."
Lisa: "Which one was he?"
Me: "The black guy."
Jen: "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Scooooooooooott"

I mean, where do we draw the line here? On another occasion, we were at Bounce and our table had scattered. It took us ten minutes to figure out who ordered the fucking Jack and Coke, all due to "racial sensitivity." True, the waitress was correct. He was the "guy in the hat." But how much was that helping in a sports bar? Everyone had a fucking hat on. You have a full tray of booze over your head, I am trying to watch the game, and now you have me scanning the room for "the guy in the hat????"

With all due respect to Bill Maher....NEW RULE: If there is an ethnic fellow at a table of ten caucasions, I think you may safely refer to him as the "Indian guy", "chinese dude", hispanic man", or whatever the case may be. I think if you avoid terms like kike, slant, and bodega, your tip is still in tact.

Notwithstanding the above, I would caution against saying "the gay guy." The gay guys I know are not going to be mad, but there are a few friends of mine who dont know they are gay yet, and they a bit testy about it lately.

And while I am at it, "broad" remains one of the best words in the Engligh language, no matter how offensive it is to some. You simply cannot get mad at me for using a word that instantly reminds me of my grandfather.

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Rock Bottom....

2006-03-13T13:49:00.000-05:00

Maybe the fact that I am turning 37 in a few weeks is really bothering the hell out of me. Maybe it is the growing bald spot on my head. Maybe it is because I feel like I missed out on a few years earlier this decade because of circumstances that are none of your business. I really don’t know what it is.

But I have now completely regressed to the moment I walked into Denton Hall freshman year. I mean, I got up today, went to the gym, and was actually going to go into the office for a few hours. The next thing I know there are 8 people in my apartment watching college basketball and I am eating cold pizza.

And Saturday? Again, I started off the day like any other reasonably mature adult. I woke up, cleaned up a little, made a small to-do list, and then went to the gym. After working out for over an hour, I took a spin class. See UES Fit Club. I am getting good at it by the way and would have done the whole class without cheating had I not missed the first 5 minutes because I stuck the right foot pedal holder thingy onto the left pedal and couldn't get it off. But I digress...

I left the gym and texted Paige. We had a play date. I thought I would get to shower first, but she told me to start walking uptown as she was walking downtown from 82nd. I get to 66th when she called to tell me she was held up. Our friend Stef had to pee. My back was hurting and I needed to rest, so we agreed they would hop in a cab and come down and meet me there. I sunk down into the bench to my right and then realized where I was.

"Um. Maybe we should meet back at my apt."
"What do you mean?"
Laughing, I said, "What will I do if Penny walks by with the dogs again."
"Run away?"
"Funny. Just hurry up and get down here."

Fifteen minutes later, they were not there. I should have known better. My ADD is raging and I am pacing the sidewalk and looking up 2nd Avenue cursing her. I know whenever I call to scream at her for being late, she shows up a second later. So I don't call. Resigned, I turned back to look South down 2nd Avenue so I could get some sun. “Uh-oh.”

..........

I peeked back outside as I dialed. “I’m in a flank two position!”
“What?”
“I had to run.”
“Your kidding! Penny and the dogs?”
“No. Penny and Katrina.”
“And you literally ran away?!”
“No. To be literal, I ducked.”
“Ducked?”
“I ducked into the deli here.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you??”
“Could I be a bigger loser?”
“Not possible," she said. "Did she see u?”
“I think so. I didn’t see her see me, but when I hopped in here, I peeked back out and saw Penny coming over. She clearly looked like she was on a reconnaissance mission.”
“And?”
“And I turned around and just started ordering shit. So hurry up.”
“Why? Aren’t they gone?”
“Yeah.” I raised my bagel and nodded at the clerk. “But I forgot my wallet and you gotta pay the deli dude for me.”

The truth is, if it was just my ex on the corner, I would have absolutely gone over and said hello. I mean, I am not that retarded and me and Paige were just kidding about me running or caring. But, for some reason, my instinct at that moment was to get the hell out of Dodge. Immediately, I calculated that there were very few possible ways that encounter would play out, and all of them ended with me in handcuffs. And it was really too nice a day to spend in jail. I am sure Katrina would appreciate my decision since if I hurled her best friend into moving traffic she would have had to fill out forms, pick me out of a lineup, and I might even have made her come bail me out.

Paige also would have been very upset because she had planned a pre-party in my apartment for Fish’s b-day and everyone insisted that I go buy a folding table so we could play flip cup. What is Flip Cup? What the fuck is next, a funnel????????? Once she finally showed up, we began our search. It did not go well. I suggested going to Bed, Bath and Beyond as this seemed like something that they would have in the "Beyond" section. Laurie had already checked. Nope. Efforts to buy one from a bookseller on the street failed, but we learned that we could buy one in Harlem. As we wete about to hop in a cab, I suggested we try Home Depot first.

They had one that was big enough one, but I realized that the edges were rounded and might not support the cup. We had no choice but to try it out. I unfolded the table and sent Paige in search of a cup. She could not find one and the only person who walked by drinking anything had a glass Snapple bottle. Ultimately, I took the cap off a spray can of Scrubbing Bubbles. The table would not work. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Ultimately, we got a table at a hardware store on 73rd Street. As we walked back to my apartment, we passed my friends sitting outside Med. My friend's wife is about to give birth. Of course, they asked what the fuck I was doing with a folding table. It was too early to say I was planning a Seder.... "Um, I really don't know how to explain this....." A few minutes later, my friend is obsessed with flipping a cup (We bought some at CVS) and I can see his wheels spinning. How can he get to my apartment tonight? Finally, he begged us to pull up chairs and play right there on 2nd Avenue. This was where I was drawing the line. Ok. It was where Paige drew the line. I was already looking for the waiter to order a pitcher.

And hours later, I had a small party at my apartment where grown men and women, all around my age, give or take, were playing flip cup. And then today I had people in and out of my apartment all day. I didn't know if I needed to put a towel under my door so that the RA didn't catch us. And now I feel sorta' guilty about all this. But why? I did a few hours of work today after everyone left today, will be at work two hours earlier than everyone else again tomorrow, and will go after work for a meeting with people regarding my charity party. So why do I feel so guilty? Is it that somewhere in me that I just know it is wrong? That I am in denial? Am I having a massive mid-life crisis?

Unfortunately, I have no time to answer these questions. My Spaghettios are getting cold.

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Get Together Update

2006-03-10T10:34:00.000-05:00

In addition to the hoops tourney (scroll down) on March 18th, I am following up on my post before I left for vacation regarding the Fund Raiser I am involved with on May 3rd at Marquee. See Get Together. Many people, in comments and privately, indicated they would like to get involved and volunteer (and/or meet new people).

On Monday, March 13th at 7:00 pm, please joing us at Planet Hollywood on Broadway & 45th Street. Please come learn how you can participate in planning this event and otherwise becoming involved in the charity. Food and beverages will be served. Also, please pass this along to those who you think will be interested. Hope to see you there!

Boss Model Management and GTF have teamed up to host the Spring Gala and we are currently in the process of planning this event with intentions to please over 600 guests. With your help, this will be our best fund-raiser ever. Please RSVP Krista Iovino at: Krista@get-together.org.

More later.......

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Hoops Tounrey for Charity

2006-03-10T08:03:00.000-05:00

Will post later. In the meantime, I am helping a friend with another charity event. If you are a guy, please get a team together. If you are a girl, come root for my team. Or just root that I don't hurt myself like I did last year. Also, if you could pass this info along to your e-mail lists, it would be appreciated. If you are a single, we may havea spot on our team. You must sign up by Tuesday. Sorry for late notice.

4th Annual
Marc S. Zeplin Foundation 3 on 3 Basketball Challenge
To Benefit Children's Charities
Saturday March 18, 2006
Basketball City
11AM Check in 12PM Tip Off

If you haven't already signed up..
**A FEW SPOTS REMAIN OPEN**
The sign-up deadline is extended, through Tuesday.
Sign up a team, support the foundation, honor Marc and enjoy an amazing day of basketball and fun.

**Bring the Kids: Jack "Hoop Wizard" Ryan will be performing his amazing ball spinning show. The show is free for all tournament players and family members. $25 per person for non-players.

For sign up instructions, click herewww.marczeplin.com

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Flip Cup 2005

2006-03-08T22:25:00.000-05:00

I was going to stop with the pics, but I do have my pride. It was one thing for people to question my maturity level going to Club Med a month away from my 37th birthday, but my athletic abilities? Me being in shape? It is over 20 years since I was voted best athlete in Camp Lakota and while I wont get all Al Bundyesque on you, there are people who still talk about the throw I made from the small diamond to home plate on the large diamond nailing Noah Puntus at the plate in Color War 1985.

In any event, I am proud to say that I can still hit and drove in the only run in the the softball finals. (a losing effort in which Biener left 5 runners in scoring position, ruining a magnificent pitching performance by Fish.)

I can still hoop, here going coast to coast, running a two on one break with "Sideways" man. I believe this ended up with a finger roll over Diesel.

I can still play goalie, even without a stick.

And, contrary to everyone's expectation, I did quite well on the trapeze. For the first time in my life - and possibly the last - I was called "graceful." Of course, I got my hands screwed up and was hanging on for deal life on the climb up the ladder.

... I want my mommy....

While you can't see it, I would have gotten a "10" but I couldn't stick the landing. Dumbass judge from Canana only gave my an 8.

I also played volleyball, where the only pictures were of because Paige (a/k/a Rivka) and tennis, which I played on the sneaky because I really suck.

They even dragged me onto a Jetski, even though I am kinda' scared of the Ocean. I got so much lotion and salt water in my eye that I SERIOUSLY needed an eye doctor. Thankfully, we had one on our trip, although he gave me a placebo which did not work. But I digress...

If this was not enough, I even climbed a tree in a drunken stupor. Getting down, not so easy.....

Additionally, I was by far the fastest and best chugger on the island...

And, after all this, the MVP race was still close. This was shocking to all since I was earlier voted most likely to not leave my lounge chair. (That and most likely to drown). In the end, however, the judges could not overlook one thing. That I could not master the skill of simply flipping a cup over and getting to to land straight up. In the entire village, if not all of the Carribean, there could be no worse. And I cost my team dearly in "Flip Cup", which, in the end, was all that mattered on this trip.

Flip Cup, is a drinking relay race where you chug a bee (or in Laurie's case, stick your tongue in it), then place your cup down on the edrge of the table and need to flip it over so it lands face down. For additional rules and variations, please see: www.MajorLeagueFlipCup.com.

As Lauren demonstrates, you put the cup down, and using one finger, flip. In our version, the losing team had to chug a pitcher, one by one, with the anchorman finishing what the team left over.

First night, things got off to a slow start. Megan had yet to learn that there is no bowing in flip cup!!

After two beers, Gindi burped and spit her beer back into Deisel's cup..

....and Laurie failed to recognize that this was no place to be dainty.

After the first day, Laurie got the message and developed quite a rivalry with Klier, who booted Megan from the lead off spot after she refused to stop spinning around every time she had a successful flip. For three days in a row, they went at it.....

I was so horrific (a bad person takes 3-4 flips. I was averaging 11 and was actually missing the cup completely with my finger and shooting air balls.) I got so bad they moved me up to go against Laurie to change things up. I lost.

Then next day I went up against Klier. I was still going when all the people on their team were done.

The women, sensing that anyone could beat a team I am on, get bold and challenged us to a match. Miraculously, Paige choked in game seven, missing 5 flips to win it before it got to our last man, Becker, who nailed it on his first try. Pandemonium broke out.

This led to a revolting display of chugging.

Dr. Mike is a mensch and tries to help out, but his lips break contact with the pitcher when Josh walks by and tells him that Reno wants to have a threesome with the two of them.

...this left Paige, the anchorman, er, anchorperson in a dire position.

I love this woman. I really, really do.

Then, in one of the last games, Josh traded me for some some guy who didn't speak Engligh and a 4th round draft pick in 2007, Club Med -Turkey. I got angry and played the best flip cup of my life. Despite this, we were down 3-1. We came back and tied it up. In game 7, however, they were down to their last flipper, Becker, and we had four to go. We all went on one flip and Josh was choking. It was up to Fish, who also stuck it in one flip, and it was just a second before Josh hit. It was an instant classic that will be played on ESPN-Classic on March 27.

The Joy of Victory.......

......and the agony of defeat

Josh is in shock, and still cannot accept defeat.

After his own team convinces him that he was beat, he protested, saying our team had a puddle on the table greater than 1/10th of an inch. "Is this regulation?!?!"

When the pitcher had made its way through most of his team, Josh was still arguimg his case. I ignored him, watching to make sure that cheating bastards lips' dont come off the pitcher...

The next night, Biener had enough and brings in a ringer, Big Papa.

Becker finally wins and, for some reason, does a Montogmery Burns impression.

Fish, clearly the best flip cupper on the Island, proves that he can't drink worth shit though, and while I may have cost my team many losses, no one was unhappy to see me on their team when the pitcher came around....

I will have a regular post tomorrow during lunch. There have been many questions asked of Mr. Coles and he looks forward to sharing his insights with you.

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Duty Free

2006-03-08T14:19:00.000-05:00

Too busy catching up on work and sleep to write much this week, so I am going to again share with you some pictures. I will try and be clever tonight if I am not drooling on myself on my couch by 9:00 o'clock again....

We roped off a table at the Daniel the guitar dude Concert.

We started off well-behaved...

Klier and Shockey played nice...

Then, we started chugging Tequila....

We knew it was all over when Laurie grabbed the bottle...

I had my cute drunk on......

And then, apparently, got my gay drunk on.... (I don't even know how to explain these two)

...Then I got my, um....

I am really gonna get in trouble for that one. I am going to go hide now.

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What about Bob?

2006-03-07T13:52:00.000-05:00

Initially, there were two new posts since I have been back, Sunday and yesterday with Mr. Coles (new pic added). Some people who looked later in day told me that they did not see the one about my ridiculous 24 hrs. before I left.

Moving along.... I have started many posts regarding the trip as there is no shortage of great stories to tell and pics to share. The problem as I see it is this - Do you care? If you are not one of the people who was there or close friends of ours, will this be funny or entertaining to you? The unfortunate reality is that the stories that would entertain even strangers are the ones that cannot be told. I must protect the innocent and, more importantly, the extraordinarily guilty - myself included.

So I am left wondering if you will find it funny that a large,loud drunk dude from Reno, Nevada was eye fucking and touching my friend Josh the entire trip? Is it funny that I implied to Reno that Josh was gay. Is it funny that the following picture was taken 18 seconds after I told Josh "I'm so sorry about you and Bob. Are you okay?" Just loud enough for Reno to hear it......

Was it funny watching Josh run away??

And Reno coming back for more the next day....

And the next day....

Until he finally conceded defeat?

I don't know? Is it funny that we felt sorry for the big guy and paid Deisel to reach down the back of his pants and ram his finger up his ass??

Me? I think it is all fucking hilarious. And if you don't, bear with me, some of us are having a very good time.

Coming soon......

.....We find out if it is funny watching Gindi transform herself from "two-stop" (think the second you and a woman getting in a cab for those of you scoring at home) to "green-light" (as in, well, you know) with the man voted Most Valuable Person who did not come with us.

.... Paige (a/k/a Rifka) gets a facial

.... and the Flip Heard 'Round the World

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Another First

2006-03-06T13:39:00.000-05:00

Will be posting from home, but since I have been getting reamed for not posting, in the meantime I thought you would be happy to know that the boy had a great time.

His first time on a plane.

Mr. Coles gets his first tan on.

And did the sun dance with Fish, Gindi, and Klier.

He worked Megan like a champ....

....but in the end, it looked like he was going to hook up with Deb. She was, however, cockblocked by Fish. Deb was not happy about it.

For another "first" for newcomers, click here.... The Boy Goes to the Meadowlands

More later, including the transformation of "Two Stop" into "Green light" for Gindi, Josh being stalked by a man, and the greatest comeback since the 1986 World Series.

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Prologue

2006-03-05T23:20:00.000-05:00

(Editor's Note: Unedited as I slept all day yesterday. I started this before I left, and wanted to post something. Unfortunately, while I tried, I could not access this site from Club Med. Anywhoo, pictures have been coming in through Ofoto and much has been written about trip. I will try and post something while I eat later.)

The following took place between 6:00 a.m. and 7 a.m. on the day before Scott went to Club Med. This is going to be the longest day of my life.

6:00:00...6:00:01...6:00:02...I woke up with a nasty hangover. I tried, but could not fall back asleep. After tossing and turning for a while, I peed and made coffee, a new skill I recently learned. Who knew it would be so easy? As the coffee started to drip, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride. This lasted for all of 26 seconds until I got in the shower and realized I forgot to buy soap last night and the sliver that remained was not going to make it past my shin. I grabbed the shampoo.....6:28.33 6:28.34 6:28.35

6:57: I finished reading the paper and decided to get an early start. I stuffed my laundry bag with clothes strewn all over the floor. I dragged the bag behind me and close the door..... 6:59:58, 6:59:59...

7:01: The Cleaners is closed and they don't open until 7:30. I lugged the bag into Hot and Crusty and ordered a bagel. I go to pay and don't have my wallet. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

7:35: I paid for the bagel and returned to the cleaners. They cannot do it by today, and are unmoved by my predicament. I return up stairs and weigh all possible solutions. I look for the yellow pages, which is nowhere to be found. What am I going to do now? Fuck it. I will just have to do it myself. How hard could it be?? But I am too wound up at the moment. I need to chill out.......

8:40. I finished watching 3rd to last episode of Season 2 of 24 and go to computer for a bit.

Ph signed on at 8:55 A.M.
SStern [9:00 A.M.]: i am an alcoholic
SStern [9:04 A.M.]: and i need a suitcase
SStern [9:04 A.M.]: or, as my grammamma would say, a velice
Ph [9:05 A.M.]: a velice
Ph [9:05 A.M.]: i love that
Ph [9:05 A.M.]: where did that word come from?
SStern [9:05 A.M.]: lol
SStern [9:05 A.M.]: how did i get so drunk?
Ph [9:06 A.M.]: probabaly the straight vodka you were drinking
SStern [9:06 A.M.]: im going to attempt to do laundry...be back....
Ph [9:06 A.M.]: be safe

9:35: Miraculously, I have laundry detergent. I swear, it must have gotten into my apartment by osmosis. That and the "dill weed" in my cupboard. After scouring my apartment for quarters, which I actually had, I lug my bag back into the elevator. There is no basement button. How could that be? I went to concierge to inquire. It seems that only one elevator goes to basement. In other words, I can get a direct flight to the Turks and Caicos Islands, but not my laundry room. Terrific.

9:45: I separated my laundry into four machines. This, like making coffee, was far easier than I had made it out to be. I poured a capful of Tide in each one like an assembly line, and reached into my pocket to pull out quarters. Um, where is the metal quarter thingy? Guadalupe tells me I need a card. I asked her how much she charged to clean apartments. She told me she lived in the building. Um, my bad. So I go to the card machine but, of course, I have no money on me and have to run upstairs. My ride back was a direct flight and I caught the same elevator back down. The machine kept spitting my money back out. The corners were crisp, not folded, and my frustration grew. The woman at the near dryer told me I can only buy a new card with a 10. All I have is a 20. I ask her if she has two tens, but don't dare ask her if she cleans apartments.....9:59:57.... 9:59:58....9:59:59....

10:03: I am certain that all I have upstairs are 20s because I just used my last two singles in Hot and Crusty. None of the doormen have 2 tens, so I headed back to the elevator to go put clothes on. (I am in shorts and a sleeveless shirt as I am going to run on treadmill after). Both elevators are heading up and I had no fucking patience. But it is 10 degrees out. Fuck it. I turned around and highstepped it out the front door and back into Hot and Crusty. She doesn't have two tens. So I am now back at the Dry Cleaners, where this whole debacle started three hours ago.

10:15: I put card into machine and have to pick a style. Whites...Colors...Permanent Press.... What the fuck is that one? I mean, either you are white or you are a color. There really is no other option. I get the next one I think, delicates, which are probably women's bras and panties and other unmentionables, but what the fuck is permanent press? And what if I have colored AND white things that need to be permanently pressed. What do I do then? I decide to go with colored or white for everything. On the way out, I do some quick calculating and decide that, all tolled, this will NOT be cheaper than bringing it to the Chinese lady around the corner and decide you are all a bunch of idiots for doing this one your own. I am drawing the line at making my own coffee.

10:25: I get out of the elevator and go to the gym on the first floor. I don't, however, have the keycard to gym. And there is no one inside to let me in.

10:29: I pull the blanket up under my chin and hit play....

11:59: I finished watching the last 2 episodes of season 2 of 24. The ending was great, but nothing really could top season one's ending. Although the tiny brunette from the L Word did make a cameo, which was a nice little bonus. Yum. I think about rubbing one out, but decide to go move by laundry to the dryer. I get up and see Season 3 of 24 staring at me next to the TV. Ok. Just one episode. Had to see if President Palmer was ok....

1:19: I look for my to-do list on my dining table. I couldn't find it and decided to start writing thisridiculouss blog instead. So glad I took the day off from work......

2:15: My clothes were finally in the dryer and my presecriptions were being refilled at Duane Reade. I went to call my date for that and pondered the fact that I would be drinking the next 7 nights, was out the prior two, and am wiped. I put down the phone and asked my speech writer to begin preparing a draft of the email that I will send to finagle my way out of this.

2:21: I again tried to master this "injaculation" thing... See You Coming or Going and How to injaculate It does not work, but maybe I am just too worried that I am going to spontaneously combust.

2:30: I went to retrieve my clothes. I had combined the four wash loads into 2 dryers and now have clothes that are only half dry. And only enough money on my card for one more run. I start combining them into one dryer and think again. While I could use any denomination of money to add to a card, I didn't have any denomination at all on me. I run back upstairs and back down.

5:40: Four more episodes of Season 3 of 24 down. I got my clothes out of dryer, folded them (how annoying) and came back upstairs. Despite intense efforts to have someone pick me up a memory chip for my camera at Best Buy, I failed. I pondered. How would Jack Bauer manage get to Best Buy on 86th Street without having to leave his apartment. I order it on-line and have to pick it up by 9. I guess I should start packing. Nah. I had time. I went for a workout instead.

8:15: I leave for Best Buy and realize I never went back to Duane Reade. I pray they are still open and race in. Whew. Go back upstairs to pack. Josh Calls. He is with Jodi One-Stop and going back to his place. They have become good friends since the infamous "where the hell do you think you are going" cab incident. They tell me that her friends are meeting her there before they go out and I should come by and hang for a bit. Although he lives across the street from me, I told him I have to pack. He told me to shut the fuck up. I showered, and realize that not only did I forget to buy Soap again while in Duane Reade, I forgot to go to Best Buy.

8:30: Wearing shorts, I cross street and into Josh's building. Inside, there is a doggie in the hallway. I ask the dog where its mommy is? Mommy calls out from the mailroom. Mommy is a cute girl I had met on Halloween. Mommy and I will have a conversation when I get back from Club Med.

9:10: Josh notes that I need to clip my toenails and demands I immediately get my feet off his couch. I tell him it is on my to-do list, but I am there instead. I wedge them under the pillows on his couch. Jodi One Stop's friend comes over. She recognizes me from J-date, and then amuses us with her recent Jdate story wherein he offered to send her a picture of his penis during their first phone conversations. I swear it wasn't me. See A revolting display

9:30: Jodi's friend tries to convince me and Josh to come out. She has three tables at Embassy and is entertaining big restauranteurs in Manhattan. I even had heard of them. She was picking up the entire tab. While very tempting, we decline.

9:35 Concluding a week of harassing us about how we are getting to the airport, what time we are leaving, etc., Deb calls to notify me that her and the girls have opted to take a car service to the airport instead of a cab. I lie and tell her that me and Josh are going out

9:47 Assure Paige that I am not going out and we just needed to ensure that Deb would stop Iming, calling, and texting us. I inquire whether we can have sex on the airplane. She declines. Jodi's oldroommatee shows up. I note that she is a brunette who is about 5'1.

9:48 I had a drink.

10:12 We decide we will go with them for, but just for an hour. Swear.

11:15 We are driving in the roommate's Jeep and, after she almost drives into a horse, Josh suggests we get a six pack, drive around city, and film an episode for bangbus.com. Bangbus.com Josh and I are outvoted 3-2, although I think we could have swung Jodi if we pushed hard enough.

11:40: We have entire section roped off for our three tables. They bring us over, among other things, vodka infused with a red-bull type energy drink. I mix that would Red Bull, just in case.

12:30: Place fills up. People are young, and there were way too many guys in Fedora's doing their best Kevin Federline impression. But I was at a table and more people I knew came by, so I was happy. Josh and I keep remind each other that we have to leave soon. And then pour ourselves another drink.

1:20: Josh tries to work his three-some angle one last time. I think he might pull it off, but he failed. I decide I REALLY have to go home. Or at least just drink Red Bull without Vodka at this point.

3:20: I got home and start tossing shit into piles on the floor. Strategy being just to overpack and hope for the best. I find my suitcase, a/k/a velice, and start filling it up. Starting to crash. I make some coffee and sit down. Ok. One episode of 24. And then another.

5:30: I finish packing as the calls start coming in to make sure I am awake. I am, but realize that I can't find envelope from travel agent. Laurie assures me I do not need it. But only after I destroyed my apartment searching for it.

5:58:47... I crumple up to-do list, the only thing I forgot to do was call my insurance company and Con Edison about a few issues. I smiled as I passed the doorman. No biggie. I'm on vacation.

5:59:58....5:59:59...6:00:00.

(Stay tuned for scenes from next week when I arrives home at 12:30 a.m. to find my power was shut off, and pray that I still have insurance. And it covers rehab.)

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On location

2006-02-23T13:05:00.000-05:00

My New Years resolution this year was to be a little more mature when it came to my personal life. Professionally, I an quite responsible. I am almost always the first person into the office, work at home or in the office every Saturday, and am nice to people I can't stand just to get business. Outside the office, however, I can be a bit of a train wreck. I mean, I have had impromptu parties for the sole reason of forcing myself to clean my apartment. I have yet to use my new stove. Shit, I woke up in my closet a few months ago.

So New Years Eve, well, after I recovered from New Years Eve (which was somewhere around the 4th), I decided that would be my New Years Resolution. So I got up that day, and made my bed. Since then, I have been very good. I have, for the most part, not partied too much, started doing cardio 3 or 4 times a week, take the subway instead of a cab to work, clean up after myself (Ok. This could still use some work, but I am better), am in the best shape of my life, and even learned how to make my own coffee. Shit, today I did my own laundry!

This has all had a great effect on me I think. Usually, by the end of February, I range anywhere from moderately depressed to downright suicidal. I am clearly one of those people who has Seasonal Affective Disorder. That or I am just plain psychotic. This year, I am just really, really cranky. And I did not go to Florida around X-Mas time either and get a fix. It is really amazing. I have even getting to the office no later than 7:30, whereas I am normally hitting the snooze button 14 times by this time of year.

This is all about to come to a screetching halt. A while ago, a group of my friends decided they were going to Club Med. I declined. Just as I did last year, and followed up last summer by retiring from doing shares in the Hamptons. I felt like I was too old to be doing such things. Then when everyone had booked their trip, one of my friends said "Give me your credit card, you are going." And I caved. After all, I did have a responsibility as a journalist to document some of these things, no? So now, for the next seven days, I am going to see how far a 36 year old man can regress in one week. Paige has promised me, however, that during any form of a line dance, we can go look for "The Others." That and I can lie about my age for the first time in my life.

I will, of course, be posting from there. And I will post something before I leave for you to have for Monday morning. The beauty is that no one there will be able to read it and know what I am saying. So I will tell you, with pictures and graphic detail, about what is going on, who is hooking up with who, and all other lurid details of the trip. And then delete them all before we get home.

It will be our little secret. Shhhhh.

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Get Together

2006-02-22T13:34:00.000-05:00

I have always considered myself to be a giver, not a taker. For example, it is well documented that I give to the homeless, have no problem picking up the tab, grossly overtip cab drivers, and I will always try to ensure that a woman has at least two orgasms before I have one. Well, actually, I really don't have any documentation to support any of this, so you will just have to take my word for it.

My real soft spot (aside from the one we all discovered last week) has always been children. I mean, what do kids want from you other than for you to play with them and be nice to them. They don't care what you do for a living, whether you are skinny or fat, or if you got so fucked up last week you woke up in bed with the delivery guy from the Silver Spoon diner. Nothing. They just don't care.

Sometimes, however, we have to care on their behalf. Such as when their day care centers and nursery schools are merely a place they are stored for the day, without books or even appropriate furniture. They may not care about this either, but only because they do not know anything different. Now, I don't want to get all Sally Struthers here, but I have become intimately involved with a charity that raises money for such things and am planning the Spring Fund Raiser/Gala.

Now, people have often thanked me for volunteering my time to entertain them on a daily basis. It is my pleasure, and I have wanted nothing in return, except for introducing to your attractive female friends and e-mailing me your picture if you are an attractive female who does not know any of my friends. I think I am entitled tothis one request though, and it is quite simple. I would like you all to save the date Wednesday, May 3, 2006, from 7 p.m.-10 p.m., and tell your friends about it. Also, we will be having a gathering over cocktails to discuss ways people can volunteer and get involved. We are also planning some outings to the Centers we are raising money for, so that people can see exactly who we are doing this for, and why.

Or, if your "why" is that you want to meet successful men or hot women, you can skip the field trip and still volunteer. That is perfectly fine. I promise you that the women on the committee are all quite fetching, and, while he really is nothing to look at, Russell has agreed to give a complete demonstration of how to make a man injaculate. (Scroll down a few posts for details).

Shit, for these two reasons alone, I might go try and save a spotted owl.

Further details to follow, but for now, please visit our web-site. Get Together Foundation for the Children

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Looking for love in all the wrong places.....

2006-02-22T10:25:00.000-05:00

People always tell me that they are tired of seeing the same people on internet dating sites like Jdate, Match, etc. A friend e-mailed me this site and I think it is worth checking out, even for those of you swear they would never use an internet dating site. My most cynical friend joined recently and now she is "seeing someone" from here on a regular basis.

Findlovehere

More later....

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Im gonna need a hacksaw

2006-02-20T23:06:00.000-05:00

I bought a new home theater system this weekend and, unbelievably, the instructions did not take into account that I might have a cable box. What is this? The manual for the first Betamax? Who doesn't have a cable box? This thing gives me 9 different options for what octave I want to hear a bird fart in the backround during a car crash, but does not take into consider the possibility that I require a cable box to watch television?? Of course, they did give me a diagram in case I used an antenna above my house. Well, at least I know if I decide to join a militia group and live in the woods of Washtenau, Michigan, I can get good audio while I am wathing reruns of Gomer Pyle.

You know, I strive for realism on my blog, so when I wrote the above, I googled "Michigan Militia" for the name of a town. I clicked on www.Michiganmilitia.com and now I realized, somewhere at the Pentagon, I have been put on some watch list and my blog is now flagged to ensure I am not a subversive. (Which is not to be confused with being a submissive, which can often be fun). I was perusing the site, and while I was disappointed not to see a link to Joe and Eddie's plan to blow up CTU, it was rather interesting. But this was, on so many levels, just so wrong. Not exactly the Big 10, but.....

Truth be told, however, I do not care if I am being watched. Wiretaps, blah blah blah. I gave up my right to privacy six months ago. And I like getting new readers, no matter what the source. I don't care if they are guys in fatigues in Michigan or people from Homeland Security. Bush would probably get a good chuckle out of this, provided, of course, that someone reads it to him and explains what the big words mean. Kind of like we have to do with (namme removed at threat of castration).

Um, do I have a point to this entry? Not really. Well, it is a holiday and I normally don't post on Holidays or weekends, so I don't really think I have to have one. So I am going back to my couch, where I have sat since I got home from the gym this morning and watched 15 straight hours of season 2 of 24.

By the way, anyone who would like to be in my calendar, I am looking for 12 women to pose in very tight red devil outfits. Proceeds will go charity.

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Now in a non-drowsy formula...

2006-02-16T13:52:00.000-05:00

To accurately respond to this mornings' comments, I went into the library after I brought up my lunch and pulled out "Campbell's Urology", a leading text in this fascinating field. It was a huge three volume set, so I had to sit there and skim the index. Nothing on injaculation. hmmm... flip, flip, flip... Tachykinins...Tacrolimus...Takayasus arteritis in renovascular hypertension... Tamm-Horsfall protein... Back up. Nope. No "taint" either.

My colleague walks in. "What are you doing?"
"Um, Nothing."
He peeks over my shoulder and flips the cover. "What case is this for?"
Uh boy. "No case. Um, my friend had a question."
"A friend, eh?" He laughs and sits down. "So what do ya' got. A little burning? Itching?"
Uyuyuyuy. So I explain the whole thing to him, and he has never heard of it either. So we come into my office and start searching for other authoritative texts. Bingo. All our questions answered.

For those of you looking for more information, with illustrations and detailed instructions, please click here: Press Right Here

I think we have now adequately covered this topic, except to say that in reading Campbell's Urology, we learned that semen contains high amounts of Zinc, Protein, citric Acid, Calcium, and Magnesium, among other things. So, um, next time you don't feel well and reach for the Robitussin, Orange Juice and a lozenger, may I suggest......

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You coming or going??

2006-02-15T22:59:00.000-05:00

In addition to trying to entertain you, I believe that this blog should be informative. So ladies, to the point of beating a dead horse (pun most definitely intended), one of my equally deranged friends sent me the below excerpt from a book to share with you. Now, between me, him, and Russell Click: Moooooooooooooon River, you are now armed with all the information you need to satisfy your man and ensure that he never even thinks of straying.***

And, for those of you who are presently single, I suppose it would be unfair not to provide you with a forum to practice these techniques. So, because I am a good friend, I will be holding hourly sessions from Friday through Monday. Please sign up by leaving your name and a number where you can be reached in Comments.

"I am not sure why i have this book, or why i remembered reading it. well, actually neither of those are true. but anyway, this is just proof that i know alot of stupid shit. - E"

Click to enlarge so that you can read. You may have to click again once opens to enlarge further

***Or until next Tuesday, which ever comes first. Offer void in Wilton, Connecticut.

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Come again?

2006-02-15T14:39:00.000-05:00

It seems that I was not the only person who had what to say about sperm in the last few days. Fellow bloggers often comment on my blog, I check out their link, and am bored within two lines. I am not easily entertained and think most people who try to be funny only succeed in annoying me. Today, however, was an exception and I would encourage all of you to check it out, even those of you who have no interest in the intricacies of the male orgasm. Greek Tragedy?. It really is brilliant writing.

More later......

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The Road to Vancouver, 2010

2006-02-14T13:09:00.000-05:00

My head is so squarely up my ass that I did not know the Olympics was this year until my friend asked if she could watch some of the Opening Ceremonies. Of course, after watching 38 episodes of Lost on my computer, they could have had the Opening Ceremonies on Second Avenue and I would not have noticed. (Speaking of which, I for one could not have been happier when Ana Lucia shot Shannon. I would rather watch squirrels fuck than spend another minute watching Sayid emoting. But I digress....)

I have absolutely no interest in the Olympics. Sorry. Patriotism is not my gig. Other than hockey, the one thing I will watch is the Luge. Not because this requires any athletic ability, but because there is a chance someone could be decapitated on live T.V. (much like I almost did on four straight runs on the Alpine Slide at Action Park in 1982, but that is another story....)

My friend proceeded to tell me about the big Michelle Kwan story, blah, blah, blah. I did think it was nice though, that the girl from Long Island got to go. And sometimes watching gymnastics was cool. Um, what? Its figure Skating?? Oh. Never mind. If I aint watching "Skating with Celebrities", I'm not watching some girl from Lithuania. This all did, however, get me thinking about some sports that should be Olympic Events. So I came up with a list of suggestions for the committee that might attract more viewers.

1) Tug of War;
2) Texas Hold em;
3) Wheel of Fortune;
4) Egg toss;
5) Fold up paper football;
6) Connect Four;
7) Iron Chef;
8) A Battle Royale with one person from each country in the ring;
9) Synchronized speed dating;
---- and the main event would be
10)The ejaculathon.

The ejaculathon, like the decathlon, would combine 10 different events, and the highest cumulative score would win.

The First Day:
1) Ejaculating for distance
2) Consistency, thickness and texture
3) Sperm Count/Volume
4) Speed Ejaculating a/k/a "ookie cookie" (sponsored by Saltines)
5) Ability to maintain an erection while watching reruns of "Maude."

The Second day

6) Ejactulating for accuracy (Darts)
--- Hair=1 pt; Chin=3ts, Cheek=5ts, Eye=7pts, mouth=10pts, nostril=15pts
7) Taste (to be determined by the Swedish judges)
8) Stamina
9) Refractory Period
10) Race to impregnation.

Originally, I had Shuffleboard as my final suggestion, but I saw yesterday that they already put it in. What the fuck?? I was getting dressed in the gym and there were two guys debating which disc they should aim at. The last time I heard this kind of ridiculous debate hovering over a bunch of discs was in 1982 when my grandfather and Irving Kanterman spent 38 minutes arguing about whether or not Irv was "in the kitchen."

Ultimately, Irv stormed away, my grandfather told him to go shit in a hat, and the two never spoke again. Irving did 3 days later shouting out "and after" when B4 was called out during Bingo night.

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Happy Valentines Day

2006-02-14T07:48:00.000-05:00

Happy Valentines Day to all.

Despite all the joking around, it should be crystal clear that I have not one bit of animosity toward any ex I have ever had. In the name of humor, that can be lost. I was out with my ex-wife New Years Eve, remember?

Ok then. After this slight detour through my "sensitive" side the last few days, I will go back to being crude and obnoxious during lunch today. I promise.

And to all my female friends, ex-"lovers", and those I hope to bed in the near future, don't worry.... I promise that you wont be single forever.

Eventually, you will die.

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Last minute Valentine's Day ideas

2006-02-13T13:49:00.000-05:00

EDITORS NOTE: OOOOOOOOkay. These were suggestions for you, not what I am going to be doing. Except maybe #4. I don't even have a recent ex this year for any of these to apply to. Pookie, however, has tested out many of these and will be trying out some of the others in days to come. She promises to report back and let me know how they all play out.
------------------------

Still have no plans for tomorrow?? Here are some suggestions......

10) Sit at your computer and try to think of your ex's password.
9) Make up a fake J-date profile and e-mail your ex.
8) Sell your ex's underwear on Ebay.
7) Join one of those prison pen pal services and send a raunchy letter to a convict, along with a picture of your ex.
6) Cancel your ex's phone, cable, and forward his/her mail to Newark.
5) Stab yourself and go the ER to meet a cute intern.
4) Go stand in front of Checkmates or La Trapeze and grab the first good looking person you see and take him/her inside.
3) Go to Barnes and Noble in your pajamas and sit in the Relationship Section.
2) Put up an ad with your ex's picture and phone number in the "Casual Encourter's" section of Craig's List
1) Swallow a lot of pills and make lists, such as:

"The Top 20 Most Underated Songs To Listen To When You Swallow a Handful of Pills"

20. Answer - Sarah Mclaghlan
19. The Last Song - Elton John
18. I Shall Believe - Sheryl Crow
17. The Freshman - Verve Pipe
16. I'll Stand By You - The Pretenders
15. Leaving on a Jet Plane - Peter Paul and Mary
14. If You Could Read My Mind - Gordon Lightfoot
13. Dont Give Up - Peter Gabriel
12. My Immortal - Evanescence
11. The Letter - Natalie Merchant
10. Who Wants to Live forever - Queen
9. That I Would Be Good - Alanis Morissette
8. Has Anyone Ever Written Anything for You - Stevie Nicks
7. The Space Between - Dave Matthews Band
6. Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd
5. How You Have Grown - 10,000 Maniacs
4. That Particular Time - Alanis Morissette
3. Songbird - Fleetwood Mac
2. What About Me - Moving Pictures
1. Full of Grace - Sarah Mclachlan

Discuss amongst yourselves.....

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Ask Mr. Coles - Relationships

2006-02-10T08:13:00.000-05:00

After spending the larger part of the last week discussing my penis, phone/text sex, and Spite Sex (it was flying around Phillipe again last night)i felt maybe now would be an appropriate time to answer some of the more serious questions I have been e-mailed and IMed. I mean, how much more naked and exposed can I feel after this week. I have broken up multiple part questions into separate ones and edited some questions for form and spelling (and removed names), but not content.

-------------
Q: My new man says he does not masturbate. Weird, right? What should I do?
A: Run. Run like the wind and do not look back. Unless he is filthy rich. Then I suppose you can stay. But there are no amount of looks or personality that he could have that can make up for this anti-social behavior. A blood red flag and a harbinger of things to come. Or not cum, as the case may be.
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Q: [My husband] rejected me for sex one night and then I woke up and he was jerking off to porn at the computer! What the hell?!
A: You know, I promised your husband I would not blog about this!!! And if I touch this, I am in a lot of trouble. But thanks for sending. I almost fell out of my chair when I opened it. :).
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Q: I can't stop thinking about my [my ex]? It hurts. Do I have to get over him before I can meet someone else or will I meet someone and that will make me get over him?
A: As long as you are focusing on him, I think you are less receptive and open to meeting another. As far as thinking about him so much, maybe you are thinking about him to avoid thinking about yourself. And that is something you are not prepared to do at the moment. Put the focus where it belongs. On you. And let it hurt like hell. Trying to make it stop hurting will only make it last longer and worse.

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Q: Found a ton of porn on [his] computer the other night. Should this bother me?
A: You snooping through his computer is far more troubling than him having porn on it. And, um, can you remind him he promised to send me his password.
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Q: How many times have you been in love?
A: I have considered myself to have been in love 4 times.
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Q: Do I really have to play games?
A: There is a fine line between "not playing games" and "psycho." And it is a fine line. I will say this, though. If you have to continuously play games to keep someone, then what is going to happen one day when you stop? And if you keep playing games to "win" someone, usually you will end up losing yourself.
--------------
Q: What do guys think if you sleep with them on the first date?
A: That you are a whore. What the fuck do you think he thinks?
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Q: Is it true that to keep a woman, I have to keep her in the right amount of pain?
A: Unfortunately, my experience is that this may, sadly, be true. Well, a little bit at least. I do not, however, subscibe to any theory where one intentionally does anything in such a matter. It just seems to be the way things work sometimes. And, while I hear pontificating, I think that the reason for this is that many people mistake pain and love. They think that gnawing uncertainty or sting of rejection is the same as love. If people are hurt by rejection or anxious in a relationship, they want to get rid of it. And that anxiety is not love. And, then, when they rid themselves of that anxious feeling, they feel pleasure. That is not love either, it the absence of pain. And I say this is true for some people I know, not all. But I do see it all the time.
I banged my elbow HARD this morning. It hurt like hell. When it went away, it felt good. But, in reality, it was just the same boring, ugly, bony elbow it was before I banged it. Nothing has changed. The feelings are all just relative to what you just experienced before.
-----------------------
Q: Do you ever feel like crap after you cum? Like after you fuck a girl, you don't like her? Even after I jerk off, I ask myself, why did I just do that?
A: They have "post-partem depression", we have "post-orgasm depression." I don't know... After a huge meal, I am not hungry anymore. It doesn't mean I never want to eat again. I just need a nap first.
------------------------------
Q: Do you want to get married again and have a family?
A: Yep.
------------------------------
Q: u have given me great advice and also heard u give others good advice...so why don't u ever follow it and why do u have such issues?
A: Ever hear the expression "Those who cant do, teach"?
------------------------------
Q: Why do men feel the need for multiple partners and can't commit/if a guy wants a threesome does that mean he isn't interested in u or has doubts?
A: A man will always have a desire for other partners. It is the capacity to not act upon it which will allow for a committed relationship. Next, there is zero correlation between a guys desire for a threesome and his feelings for you. In fact, if a guy wants to have a threesome without you, it has nothing to do with you. To the extent you wonder what signs to look for to see if a man has doubts, check for a pulse. If he is alive, somewhere in him he has a "doubt." And, if you are honest with yourself, so do you. The notion that a man is never going to have a sexual urge for another woman after he meets you is a fairy tale notion that you must be disabused of.
----------------------
Q: Why did you and Perry breakup?
A: You need some reading comprehension skills, my friend.
---------------------
Q: Why not try get back together with Katrina...no offense... but its obvious you still think about her. And little Toto too. u dont strike me as the guy who does not go after what he wants.
A: You know, its funny, a bunch of us left the beach yesterday to go hunt for boar and get more bamboo. All of a sudden, I saw Walt run by with the dogs in his arms. My eyes became fixated and everything became cloudy. I flashed back to....
Listen, I still think about every woman I have ever been in love with from time to time. Call me crazy, but I wouldn't want it any other way. And if that is, as someone wrote, pathetic, then I'm pathetic. So be it. At least I am honest.

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Thusfar Untitled

2006-02-08T08:19:00.000-05:00

I received the following e-mail yesterday.
--------------------------------------------------
Hi All-

I decided to be pro-active and make a reservation for Valentines Day for my single friends.

We have a reservation Tuesday, February 14th at 8pm at (name removed to prevent stalking) at 8pm for those of you that do not want to sit home and think about an ex, stalk an ex on line with an alias IM names, write blogs, watch 50 hours of back episodes of Lost or 24, take pictures of your privates, surf the internet for porn, watch 90210 re runs, eat a box of chocolate, do laundry, install light fixtures, start sending around old embarrassing pictures of your friends they they have no idea you ever took, or watch the idiots try out for American Idol (since it is Tuesday)

(extraneous material removed for brevities sake)

XOXO
------------------------------------------------------

After almost pissing myself upon reading this (so nice to know I am not the only one who has ever made up another screenname), I realized how lucky I am not be in a bad "camp" this year. For my detailed thoughts on Valentines Day, you can click here. February 2005 revisited This year, I am squarely in the "I am so goddamn jaded that Groundhogs Day meant more to me this year than Valentines Day" camp.

Discussing this e-mail in the gym tonight, one person said that those of us who have responded have "waived the white flag" (or "white scarf" as the case may be). I disagree. First, I waived the white flag a good six months ago. Second, I could meet my next wife the second I leave the house tomorrow morning and I am not taking her out Valentines Day. Waaaaaaay too soon for that kind of crap. Hey, you wanna hold out hopes that you can have one last soiree with an ex....knock yourself out. Let me know how that works out for you. Other than that, go get loaded with your friends.

Fortunately for us, Pressman has a date this year.

I, on the other hand, will be standing like a putz outside some restaraunt doing what, I do not know.

--------------------
**Having impossible time uploading pics from my Super Bowl party, but here are a few that worked for your amusement.....

Mr. Coles first Super Bowl. (He had Seattle and the Under).

Drunk, Mr. Coles finally hooks up with Deb, giving her her first non self-inflicted orgasm of 2006, and more bets are lost at that moment than at the end of the Superbowl. Howie is off the hook and Paige will get another free meal. Dr. Mike wonders if this will all hurt Deb's chance of replacing "Hottie" on Flavor of Love, Part 2. Deb later tells Paige that Mr. Coles and her are exclusive.

While working the next day, however, I overhear Mr. Coles tells Laurie that he doesn't date blondes. After unsuccessfully trying to convince Mr. Coles that Deb is a brunette now, they settle in for an afternoon of Lifetime and cuddling.

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Dear Mr. Jennings, Part 2

2006-02-07T11:01:00.000-05:00

TO MY READERS: THESE BLOGS WILL BE REMOVED AS I AM SURE THEY ARE BORING THE HELL OUT OF YOU. THEY WILL REPLACED BY A "REAL" ENTRY LATER. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE.
-----------------------

Dear Mr. Jennings:

Since you could not wait for a response, here is my completely unedited response drafted to you last night. I will not waste another second on this, as much fun and educational as this was for me.

I quoted your movie and used a picture to support my opinion that this was one of the funniest scenes in movie history. This consituted a "fair use," (see 17 U.S.C. § 107), thereby avoiding any copywritght infringement. As you are aware, An individual may reproduce a copyrighted work for a 'fair use' and the copyright owner does not possess the exclusive right to such a use." Sony Corp. v. Universal City Studios, Inc.464 U.S. 417 at 433, 104 S.Ct. 774, 795-96, 78 L.Ed.2d 574 (1984). "The doctrine of fair use allows a holder of the privilege to use copyrighted material in a reasonable manner without the consent of the copyright owner." Narell v. Freeman, 872 F.2d 907, 913 (9th Cir.1989).

Determination of fair use requires analysis under an "equitable rule of reason." Sony, at 464 U.S. at 448, 104 S.Ct. at 792 (quoting H.R.Rep. No. 94-1476, reprinted in 1976 U.S.Code Cong. & Admin.News at 5659, 5679). "The copyright law, like the patent statutes, makes reward to the owner a secondary consideration." Sony, 464 U.S. at 429, 104 S.Ct. at 782 (quoting Fox Film Corp. v. Doyal, 286 U.S. 123, 127, 52 S.Ct. 546, 547, 76 L.Ed. 1010 (1932)).

In examining the fairness of the family's use, the Court is guided statutorily by 17 U.S.C. § 107, through which Congress, in 1976, codified the common law doctrine of fair use. [FN5] Section 107 enumerates four non-exclusive "factors to be considered" in assessing fair use; they are intended to guide but not to limit analysis. H.R.Rep. No. 94-1476 at 5680; see also Harper & Row Publishers v. Nation Enterprises, 471 U.S. 539, 560, 105 S.Ct. 2218, 2230, 85 L.Ed.2d 588 (1985) (four factors "not meant to be exclusive"). In determining whether the use made of a work in any particular case is a fair use, the factors to be considered shall include:

1) the purpose and character of the use, including whether such use is of a commercial nature or is for nonprofit educational purposes;
(2) the nature of the copyrighted work;
(3) the amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole; and
(4) the effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work.

Considering the four (4) statutory factors in Section 107, your claim is without merit. Regarding the first factor, "the purpose and character of the use," you will notes that my use of the text and photographs falls within the "illustrative" categories for typical fair use, such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, or research. See 17 U.S.C. § 107; see also Ringgold v. Black Entertainment Television, Inc., 126 F.3d 70, 78 (2d Cir.1997) (observing that these categories should guide a court's evaluation of the first factor) (emphasis added). Moreover, it is clear that I did not "stand to profit from the exploitation of the copyrighted material without paying the customary price.' " See Amsinck v. Columbia Pictures Indus., Inc., 862 F.Supp. 1044, 1049 (S.D.N.Y.1994) (quoting Harper & Row Publishers v. Nation Enterprises, 471 U.S. 539, 562, 105 S.Ct. 2218, 85 L.Ed.2d 588 (1985)). I have not profitted from the use of these pictures or text, and was not compensated to the use these materials. The first statutory factor, therefore, clearly suggests a finding of "fair use."

The second factor, "the nature of the copyrighted work," also militates in favor of a finding of fair use. Here, The courts have traditionally inquired whether the work is published, with unpublished works gaining more protection. "The fact that a work is unpublished is a critical element of its 'nature' " suggesting that pre-publication exploitation of the work would be unfair. Harper & Row, 471 U.S. at 564, 105 S.Ct. at 2232-33. Here, the work is a major motion picture, with quotes and pictures already scattered across the internet.

The third factor, "the amount and substantiality of the portion used" also shows that this was a protected "fair use." The third factor in the fair use analysis is the "amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole." 17 U.S.C. § 107(3). Here, I used five lines and two stills from a major motion pictures, all of which I got from other sites on the internet.

Finally, the fourth fair use factor looks primarily to whether a use "supplants any part of the normal market for a copyrighted work." H.R.Rep. No. 83, 90th Congress, 1st Sess. 33, 35 (1967), as quoted in Marcus v. Rowley, 695 F.2d 1171, 1177 (9th Cir.1983). You cannot claim that the effect of my use of the texts and pictures was anything less than positive; Indeed, it could only help promote rentals and discussions of your movie. It could not possibly "suppress demand." In reality, is there any demand at all anymore for this movie? Nevertheless, the capacity to injure does not impede a finding of fair use. See Fisher v. Dees, 794 F.2d at 438.

In sum, The Copyright Act was not designed to prevent such indirect negative effects of copying. The fourth factor is aimed at the copier who attempts to usurp the demand for the original work. The copyright laws are intended to prevent copiers from taking the owner's intellectual property, and are not aimed at recompensing damages which may flow indirectly from copying. Lewis Galoob Toys, Inc. v. Nintendo of America, Inc. 780 F.Supp. 1283 (N.D.Cal.,1991.)

You have promised to sue me if I do not take down the text and pictures down. I have three words for you. I dare you.

Finally, if you write to me on here again, I will consider it harassment. You have made your position known. Now sue me or go away.

Very tryly yours,
Scott A. Stern

Looking for Tommy Turner

2006-02-06T08:40:00.000-05:00

On Friday night, in order to refresh our recollections of what life was like in the 11th grade, 10 of us went to Benihana. At first, I thought this was a great idea. I had to work Saturday, wanted to get a good night sleep, and did not want to be hungover. At last count, however, I had done 15 "Sakebombs", which are like the Boilermakers/Dr. Peppers we did, in fact, do in the 11th grade, except you dropped Sake in a glass of beer and chug it. It got pretty ugly in a hurry.

At some point, Deb was looking at pictures that I had taken on my TREO. Now, mind you, I delete nothing. I have every text I have EVER sent still on it, and I have not deleted any pics I have taken or received either. Well, um, how shall I say this.... Ok. There is a picture of my penis on it. (Somewhere in Westchester, my sister is shaking her head. "Please, Scott. My mother-in-law is reading this. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease no."). Don't worry Sue, said penis will not be posted. But, there have been many, many questions raised as a result of this and the chain reaction that followed. And they must be answered.

Ok. Where was I? Oh yeah. So Deb sees the pic, is dying, and tells me that I have to send it to Paige. We are hammered, so I do. I elbowed Platt and said "Just watch Paige's face." Paige reaches for her phone, flips, and her eyes bulge and almost pop out of her head like in a Tom and Jerry cartoon.

We all laugh, blah blah blah. Let's do another sakebomb and eat. A few minutes later, I hear a shriek. And then another. I look up. Did someone take Claire's baby again??? Nope. Everyone at the table is checking their phones. Men, women, the chef.... Apparently, Jason took Paige's phone, forwarded the pic to himself, and sent it to everyone at the table. And, as I later learned, to some people at other tables scattered around Manhattan.

While we were drunk and I laughed it off, I did grow increasingly upset, especially when Dana got it at the superbowl and said she could have sworn she saw Jerome Bettis answer his phone and scream during warm ups. Then, I received many questions that showed that some people think I had something do with this. So I decided to sit down for an exclusive interview with Bryant Gumble.

Q: Scott. People want to know. Why was your penis on your phone?
A: It was really quite innocent. It was a while ago, I was on the phone late night with an ex. We were joking, one thing led to another, and she said something to the effect that she missed "him." So I snapped a picture and sent it to her.
Q: That is a little strange, no?
A: I don't know. We are two adults. It was a private, tender moment shared between two consenting adults behind closed doors."
Q: I agree, but tender? It was hardly "tender."
A: What is your point Bryant?
Q: Scott, you could have played tetherball on that thing. Lets face it...
A: Next question...
Q: Ok. Why would you send it to Paige?
A: I was dared, we were drunk, she is one of my best friends and we have a warped sense of humor. I would never have sent it to anyone else.
Q: Why would Jason want that on his own phone, let alone send it to other people, including men??
A: You will have to ask Jason that, but I do submit that he is the one who has tons of explaining to do, and should be embarrassed. Not me.
Q: So you are saying you did not send it around, encourage it to be sent around, or have anything to do with it?
A: That is correct. I had nothing to do with it. And I do sincerely apologize to the people who had to receive this on their phone and were upset by it.
Q: Are you mad?
A: When people asked me why I was sending it around, I become very angry. I have since calmed down though.
Q: Are you embarrassed?
A: I was, but Paige calmed me down.
Q: How did she do that?
A: She made me laugh. Read for yourself.

-------

S330 [4:20 P.M.]: my spleen hurts
PHR [4:20 P.M.]: i am nauseous again
SS30 [4:20 P.M.]: im wondering if i should be mad that jason sent my penis to 20 people
PHR [4:20 P.M.]: who did he send it to?
SS30 [4:21 P.M.]: Don't know. But XXXXXXXX asked Platt this morning whos penis was on her phone. And we are not good friends. can u see why i am a bit, um, perturbed at situation. We are not really friends. if it was only "us" it would be one thing....
SS30 [4:21 P.M.]: but i dont know who he sent it to. It makes me look stupid. I am getting more pissed off by the second. Really fucking pissed.
PHR [4:21 P.M.]: you know...
SS30 [4:21 P.M.]: what?
PHR [4:21 P.M.]: it really wasn't a bad shot.
SS30 [4:21 P.M.]: fetching??
PHR [4:21 P.M.] quite impressive actually.
SS30 [4:21 P.M.]: i love you
SS30 [4:22 P.M.]: and comments like that remind me why
PHR [4:22 P.M.]: love you too
SS30 [4:23 P.M.]: Hey... pic bring back any memories. :)
PHR [4:23 P.M.]: not a one.

--------

Q: Did it stop?
A: No, the next day my penis was at Ford Field. I became furious at that point, but Platt and Two-stop calmed me down last night. Having been able to now vent, I consider the issue dropped, and I must go to work.
Q: Wait. 'Two stop'?
A: Another time, Bryant. I have to go to work.
Q: One more question. Are you going to post the picture on your blog?
A: Um, no?
Q: Will you post the pictures from the night?
A: Sure. I will post those and some from my Super Bowl party later. In the meantime, enjoy the below. This whole thing reminded me of what I think is one of the funniest scenes in movie history.

Mr Carter: Five young boys in the nude? A police line-up so that you can identify his tallywhacker.....Please, please, can we call it a tallywhacker? "Penis" is so person... per.."Penis" is so personal."

Buela: Well, we can put hoods over their heads to avoid embarrassment. Now, listen. We have got to do it, as distasteful as it is. I know it's him. That tallywhacker had a mole on it and that mole is the key to it!!"

Mr. Carter: Miss Balbricker, do you realise the difficulty of your request? Now, I would be very happy to... to apprehend the young man myself,but imagine what the Board of Education would say if you were granted a line-up in order to examine their private pa... pa... pa... their... their... their... their private parts for an incriminating mole.

Coach: "Mr Carter? I think I have a way out of this. We call the police, and we have 'em send over one of their sketch artists. And Miss Balbricker can give a description. We can put up "Wanted" posters all over school. Have you seen this prick? Report immediately to Beulah Balbricker. Do not attempt to apprehend this prick as it is armed and dangerous! It was last seen hanging out in the girls' locker room at Angel Beach High School"

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Ask Mr. Coles.....

2006-02-02T08:06:00.000-05:00

Thank you for your questions. More during lunch hopefully.

Q: Do you crumple or fold your toilet paper?
A: Crumple.

Q: Can you post a picture of you and your ex-wife?
A: I will ask her for permission. I suspect the answer will depend on whether her husband reads this and if I have one in which she feels she looks sufficiently thin.

Q: Did you hook up with Dana at the wedding?
A: No. Billy got jealous. The Wedding. It is entirely possible we would have in the morning, but when Platt walked out of the bathroom and screamed, "Do NOT go in there!" the mood was kinda' killed.

Q: You seem to have an exorbitant amount of female friends. What is the deal? Are you gay?
A: You seem to have missed that I almost always change the names of people. They are not actually different people. I do not, however, deny having very, very close relationships with a few women. But, at my ripe old age, my relationships with male friends consists of going the Meadowlands, Shea Stadium, Madison Square Garden, Bounce, play basketball, and hanging out at parties. We discuss, stocks, bonds, sports and broads. They may not, under any circunstances, ask if they can come over, lie on my couch, and watch Lifetime with Mr. Coles as I work at my computer. (For example, see picture) Finally, I have many, many friends who are couples, such as the one who asked this dumbass question. Um, Kenny, would you like me to come spend the day in Roslyn with you, your wife and the kids and blog about going to Home Depot?

Q: A guy I am dating does says he does not masterbate? What do you think? It it has only been two dates and I do like him.
A: I think the only thing scarier than a man who does not masterbate is a man who does not masterbate and told you this on or before the end of your second date.

Q: What is your favorite food?
A: Lucky Charms

Q: come on... spill it.. What is the "dish" with you and Dish.I read her blog and she said you were in her apartment and went dog walking. Are you telling us that you two have never hooked up??? and woman to man.. she likes you. it is obvious.
A: Dish is moving back to Florida. This paves the way for us to decide we like each other the day before she leaves, because we both know there is no chance we could ever be together. She will contemplate staying in New York after we have torrid sex all night, at which time I will drug her and carry her onto the plane myself if I have to. I will then fly to Florida a month to visit, where the "relationship" will end when Dish finds me and her mother making out in the produce section of Publix.

Q: How many minutes does it take you to be ready to go again after you have an orgasm?
A: Minutes????

Q: Have you ever been to Africa?
A: No. But I have blessed the rains.

Q: When was the last time you cried and why?
A: February 23, 2005. Because I was sad.

Q: What is your "type"
A: Brunette, 5'3 or under, petite. She tends to babble a little bit and may be described as a little quirky. (And, again, if you are 5'1, 130 you are not "petite." You are Rhode Island).

Q: I got a question... can you quantify how many times writing a blog has a) gotten you laid or b) gotten you significant action.
A: First, I do not have sex outside the confines of a clearly defined monogomous relationship. Second, what is significant to one may not significant to another. To me, Oral sex is a very personal act and would be significant. If, however, I was.... (please disregard the above. Laurie hacked into my computer).

Q: Who the hell is "Mr. Coles?"
A: This is Mr. Coles

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Any Questions?

2006-02-01T06:27:00.000-05:00

I was about to get into bed and realized that another month just ended. I can't believe it is February already. Shit, if I am going to have that Valentines Day orgy for all my single friends, I better start making arrangements.

Aaaaanyhoo. I checked my "stats" for January and my "readership" grew for the sixth straight month. I even topped 5000 visits in January. Having such a massive ego, I will admit I think that is pretty cool.

But I must also admit that I feel more pressure right now. Shit, this is not easy and trying to "force" being funny will be blatantly obvious and most unfunny. And, I mean, its not like I can bring in a new kid like cousin Oliver or Chachi to try and boost the ratings. I suppose I can fake my death and go work on oil rig, but I don't think mom would be too thrilled.

Clearly, I could make this sooooooo much easier by devoting some blogs to my serious or philisophical side, and/or sharing my deep thoughts. There are so many things I have written (or thought about) and never posted. But who the hell wants to read about that???? As it is, I do it once in a while and they all seemed to end up causing me aggravation.

In any event, since I do get a lot of emails with some funny questions, I decided that every so often I will devote a blog to answering them. It can be about anything. Things I have written about, relationships (I can't have one, but I happend to give really good advice), sports, stocks, Pookie's breasts, whatever...

Please send your questions to AskMrColes@aol.com or my regular email address if you know me.

Further blog to follow at around 3:00, answering some of the questions I have been asked to date.

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What Will They Think of Next?

2006-01-31T01:27:00.000-05:00

Friday night I decided to stay home. I had to go into work early on Saturday and decided to stay in and relax. I needed a little "me" time.

I'm not sure how long this has been going on, but it came to my attention as I tried to entertain myself that you can now download TV shows on to your computer through I tunes. I found this fascinating and since everyone was telling me I HAD to watch Lost, I downloaded the Pilot. But for hours could not get myself to watch it. You think you have commitment issues?? I mock you. I can't commit to a radio station for more than one full song when driving on the LIE; I still haven't watched Wedding Crashers which I have had for four days(or returned it); I am supposed to commit to watching 25 episodes?? Fuck, I didn't want to commit to sitting at my computer for 42 minutes.

Finally, around midnight, I watched. By 5:00 a.m, I had watched 4 episodes. Everytime I got into bed, I got out and watched another. Finally, I just hopped in the shower and went to work. I have plenty to say about this show, but for now I will just say this..... Within 4 minutes of watching the show, Evangiline Lilly (Kate) catapulted herself right to the top of my "I want to sleep with" list. Shit, I might even just want to cuddle.

Anyhoo... Um, did I have a point here? (Sorry, I am on episode 12 and sleep has become optional). I really don't. So I will just ramble about some topics related to this....

---- Will my generation refer to all portable music devices as "Walkman" the same way our grandparents referred to every refrigerator ever as "a Frigidaire."

---- Do they still use microfiche in college? I think I would have graduated suma cum laude if I was not steadfast in my refusal to look anything up on microfiche. I've had bad acid trips that were more pleasant than spending a day in the library trying to line up those little fuckers and find some obscure article on the Australeopethicus age. Or Conway Twitty.

----- Speaking of antiquated methods of research, I want to know what the other "finalists" were when they decided to name it the "Dewey Decimal System?"

----- I want to beat the shit out of myself for ever thinking the Fonz was cool.

----- I did, however, used to change to TBS at 5 past the hour every day just so I could sing along to the theme song from Growing Pains. I admit it.

----- I also admit I got caught, pants around my ankles, humping the TV when Penelope Pitstop when she came on when I was 8. Speaking of being turned on by such women as the Little Mermaid's daughter, they have animated porn now that is more erotic and watchable than most porn made in the 70s.

---- Some things however, would be killed by modern animation. Such as Mr. Bill. Which reminds me, I am offering a $50 reward to anyone who can successfully download "Oh No! Mr. Bill!" as a "Ringtone" onto my TREO I will take you to dinner anywhere in the City. If you don't know who Mr. Bill is, I implore you, please check out... www.mrbill.com

---- I think one thing that we all must do immediately is get rid of the Voicemail greeting. If you don't know that you "leave your name, number and a brief message after the tone" by now, I am not "getting back to you as soon as I can", so don't bother.

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Out of Office Reply: (no subject)

2006-01-27T09:00:00.000-05:00

I was eating breakfast and sent out an e-mail to some friends about a funny story from last night (to be blogged about during lunch). I hear the click and open my e-mail. Ah yes, I forgot. Josh is in California.
-----------
I am out of office until Tuesday 1/31. If you need something right away, please contact:

Assistant Valerie Foreman at 212.555.6942

Co-Manager Terry Carter at 212.555.6655
-----------

I went back to my breakfast and peer over at the phone. I have to. I just have to.
Riiiing......Riiiing......Riii.
“Clear Channel. Valerie Foreman speaking.”
She sounded young. Good. “Hi. My name is Scott Stern. I received an out of office message from Josh Becker that said if I need something right away I should contact you.”
“Yes. How can I help you.”
“I need my apartment cleaned.”
“What?”
“The message said if I need anything right away I should call you." Trying not to laugh. "And my cleaning lady cancelled, and I am having people over tonight.”
“Who is this?”
Still serious. “Scott. I am a friend of Josh’s.”
She laughs a little finally. “You want me to tell him you want him to clean your apartment.”
I laugh too. “No. I just want it cleaned.”
“I’ll leave him the message on his desk.”
“Actually, can you call him?”
“You want me to call him on his cell in California???”
“Please." I begged her. "You have to.”
“And tell him...?”
“That Scott Stern called and he needs his apartment cleaned. Right away.”
“Ok.”
"Thanks."

It is presently 6 a.m. in California. I hope she realizes that. Actually, no I don't.

Editors Note: Yes, I really did this. I will ask Josh to comment and confirm since no one seems to believe me.

More during lunch.
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Random Dialogue

2006-01-26T13:25:00.000-05:00

Here are some snippets from the unpublished rememberances of 2005. ( Some creative licence was taken with time, locations, and of course names, to protect the innocent and guilty. All are, as always, otherwise true, and, unbelievably, the last one from 1991 is almost verbatim.
--------------------

I was walking out of the gym and saw my friend Dara. We always talked, but never actually went out just the two of us. This was right around the time I introduced her to my friend Jason.
"Go for dinner this week?"
"As friends, right?"
"Actually," I said. "I thought I'd go as a sheppard and you would go as a goat."
"You are such an ass."

-------------------

It was early November and Sheri I were walking from the diner to Bounce to watch the Jets game. As we crossed the street, I peeked to the right to see if any cars were coming."
She smirked. "I see you checking."
"I was looking to see if cars were coming."
"Bullshit." She had me dead to rights. "You're telling me you don't look to see if she is outside her apartment when you walk by???"
"Stop it." I did, but it was only out of habit. And I wasn't admitting it. "I'm not that pathetic."
"That is not pathetic," she said. "I used to go out of my way to walk by his building."
"Now that I have NEVER done. Not once. I swear." I motioned that we should cross over 2nd Avenue. "Although I must confess that I went out of my way last week to walk on the East side of 2nd Avenue instead of the West Side when I was off from work."
"Why?"
"I had seen her dog walker with the doggies around that same time last month and I figured maybe I'd see them again."
She rolled her eyes as she lit a cigarette. "And how did that go?"
"Didn't see 'em", I said. I peeked back over my shoulder. "Dumbass dogs."
"Let me see if I understand this correctly." She blew smoke over her head, then stared at me. "You have taken to stalking a dog?"
"Shut up."

--------------

My friend Dave does not believe that there is no romantic entanglement with me and a few of my friends. We were debating this again recently and he brought up an old friend we have not seen in years. She has since gotten married.
"Admit it," Dave said. "When you hung out with Sheryl, you had ulterior motives."
"I will admit nothing of the sort."
"You are denying that you wanted to sleep with her?"
"I am not denying that at all."
"See. You had ulterior motives."
"No, my friend." I smiled. "That was my only motive. There was nothing ulterior about it at all."

------------------

My friend Andy called me last week under the pretext of telling me that a friend of ours was having another baby. He barely paused after relaying the news. "So, I heard you went on a date with my friend Jackie."
Here we go. "Uh-huh."
"Well, did you like her?"
Do I need this from a guy? "Well, I just don't think she is right for me."
"Why? She is so cute. So your type."
"Well, um..." Fuck it. Why lie to him? "Listen. This girl said 'mishagosh', 'uy vey is meer', 'uyubedach' and "mitvah" before we were even seated."
"And?"
"And?? Are you kidding me?? That voice. The way it rises and falls with each syllable. Every vowel carried out for a count of four. I wanted to shoot myslef."
He laughed. "Yeah. I guess you are right."
"You guess?" My voice raised a few octaves. "I felt like I was on a date with my mother. I'm telling you, if she had said 'You are giving me a kinahurah', I was going to the bathroom and never coming back."
"Alright. I got it", he said. "I'm going to meet Steve now."
"Tell him Shalom for me."

-----------------

I walked into the "pre-party" after meeting a J-date at Lenox Room. Dana handed me a drink. "How was the date?"
I laughed inwardly. "Well, she was really hot. Craaaazy body."
"Nice?"
"Unbelievably sweet."
"See," she said. "They were not all coincidences. It was fate."
I put my arm around her and led her into the kitchen. "For one crazy second, I believed you. But...."
"What?"
"Well, for the first half hour, I was in shock. She was exactly my physical type. She was cracking me up. Quirky, but in an endearing way."
"So? What happened?"
I leaned into her. "She barked."
He eyes widened. "You slept with her???"
Everyone turned around.
"Noooooooo. And lower your voice," I said. "She barked at the table."
"She yelled at the waiter?
"No. She barked. Literally! Out of nowhere, put her knuckles under her chin,
bobbed up and down, and fucking barked."
"As in, 'woof woof' bark?"
"Well, it was "arf, arf" to be exact.
"She pretended she was a dog???"
"That she did, D."
"Why would she do that?"
"I have no idea."
"So I guess you aren't going out with her again."
"No. We are going out on Tuesday."
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?"
I walked out of the kitchen. "Well, You said I should start always give people two chances."
"She barked!!!!!"
I turned around and smiled. "Yeah. But she was a phenomenal kisser."

--------------------------

Devil Flashback: Vintage Moment: Fall, 1991. Scott's first year of law school.

I went on a first date with someone I had met out the weekend before. We met my friends at "The Mill" on 81st. (Oh the good old days) 5 Mind Erasers later, we are back at her place. I, of course, wore a condom. Not that I otherwise would not have , but when she told me she was a submissive, like to be "objectified", and can only climax when she is spanked, weelllll..... Which she did by the way. Was pretty cool. Anyhoo, I on the other hand, could not "finish" and pulled off the condom. I flipped her onto her back, and um, was about to care of it myself when all of a sudden, her head snaps up a bit.
"Stop! Don't cum on me."
I looked down at her, bewildered.
"Don't get me wrong." She is deadly serious. "I like you. But I just don't think we know each other well enough for that."

Coming soon: The Devil Goes to College Park

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After Further Review.....

2006-01-24T14:24:00.001-05:00

I made on of those red flags that NFL coaches throw at the refs feet (or head) to challenge of their calls with Instant Replay. I got a promotion recently and now my boss comes into my office every 11 minutes with new assignments for me. I was in my office today at 5:30 a.m. and, I swear to you, the next time he walks in and drops something on my desk, I am following him back into the hall throwing the red flag at his feet.

Speaking of challenges, I read that today is, statistically speaking, the worst day of the year. This is based on the passing of the holidays, realization of debt rang up because the bills start coming in, the weather, etc. etc. See British psychologist calculates ‘most depressing day’ for a full explanation.

I am throwing the red flag and challenging that call too. Because as any man will tell you, for this half of the gene pool, the worst day of the year this year falls on February 6th.

What is February 6?? It is the day after the Superbowl. You just drank a lot on a Sunday, are hungover on a Monday; and you probably just lost a lot of money; If that is not enough, you have been reminded every 10 minutes since the final play of the game last night that your wife/girfriend/other owns your ass for the next 20 Sundays because she let you spend the prior 20 with your friends. It is time to pay the piper and, in four days, you are off to glooooorious Maine to stay in some rustic Bread and Breakfast.

Mind you, around this trip, you have but a few days to figure out what the hell she wants for Valentines Day and make a reservation somewhere nice. And those credit card bills that depressed you when they just came in?? Well, guess what, they are two weeks closer to requiring a payment. Sigh.

So you sit down in your chair to figure this all out and all that is on ESPN is a Spelling Bee. On ESPN 2? The 2003 Scrabble Championship. You can't even find a game of Celebrity Poker on the Travel Channel. Your mate comes by and so smugly plucks the remote control out of your decomposing hand and, yep, you are watching Lifetime. Natalie Portman having a baby in Walmart. And you cant say a damn word because you sold out souls for repeated viewings of NFL Primetime.

You close your eyes and count that you have six weeks until the NCAA tourney and over two months until the first pitch is thrown out on Opening Day of Baseball season. You have no fantasy football or baseball left, and you would rather watch the girls JV at the local high school than the New York Knicks.

You get up and stare out the window. You look around for your cigarettes? Oh yeah. You don't smoke. Man, is it looks cold out there. Colder than it was on January 24th. You realize, at that moment, that you have no reason to live for the next two months. You trudge toward the door and, at the last second, turn back to your beamin wife/gf. "Honey, I am going to walk the dog."
She pulls the covers under her chin and smiles. "Awwwww. You guys have fun."

Problem is, you don't have a dog.

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UES Fit Club

2006-01-23T08:34:00.000-05:00

So I opened my big mouth the other night and the next thing I know I had agreed to take a "spin" class.

Inside the room I see a bunch of bicycles. I don't know what I expected, but since they did not call it "cycling", I expected something more that a bunch of bikes. I asked the girls what the deal was, and they proceeded to give me the history of Spin. How some guy out in California invented it. Blah blah fucking blah. You mean it wasn't Ebenezer Schwinn??

Forgive me for laughing, but this was not exactly James Naismith inventing Basketball. And from what I can tell, if I am doing it on my own, listening to my heaphones, I am riding a bike, but if a guy is yelling at me to push..push..push...., I am "spinning." Um, oooookay.

Class was about to start and I reeeeeeeeeally had to pee. I was warned I was not allowed to talk or the teacher would get really mad. I whispered to Sheri, "There is an intermission, right?"
Sheri is dumbfounded. "Intermission?????" What do you think they do, serve refreshments?"
"You mean you ride for the whole hour without a break??"
"It's only forty-five minutes."
That made sense. I adjust the height of the bicyc.. I mean, Spinner, and hop on. Um, where are the peddles?? I had to put them on myself??? Uy. I, of course, couldn't get the little fuckers on, and the class was delayed while I was making a jackass out of myself and the teacher had to help me. They finally started as I was frantically trying to get my bigass feet in the stirrups. I finally got going and Sheri motioned for me to move my seat back, which I tried to do while I was still riding. Not working. I get off, move it back, get back on, struggle to get my feet back in the stirrups and, again, I am off. They are already on song 3 and I have not even started.

Once I got settled, it really was not a big deal. This was easy!! (Except, of course, that I immediately realized I should not have worn boxers. But that is a whole 'nother story) I looked around... Why are you all going so slow? Suuuuuuuckers. I am cruuuuuising. What was all the hoopla about?

I looked at them and smiled. Smugly. I was flying!! Sheri pointed to this knob thingy on my spinner and mouthed "turn it." Turn what? Huh? What are you saying? Restitution? Resi-who? She kept motioning for me to turn the knob. I turned it. Turned it some more. Oooooooooooooh. Resistance. Sheri smiled. Smugly.

Uy. I am in trouble. Biiiiiiiiiiiiiig trouble.

Five minutes later, I was fucking dyyyying. Then the teacher said to go to 60 percent, and Sheri motioned for me to me to turn the knob more. Fucking sadists. I pretended to turn the knob and nodded knowingly, as if I could handle this. She motioned for me to stand up, and I looked around to see everyone standing as they are riding.

As I stood and peddled harder, my foot broke out of the stirrup and I lurched forward. I caught myself by grabbing the handlebars, but they were slippery, and my hand slid up to the very top of it. And I came 2 millimeters from becoming the first person EVER to fly over the handlebars on a stationary bike.

Miraculously, I made it through the WHOLE class, even though it took every ounce of pride I had not to get up and walk my bike up these imaginary hills. And out the door. But I made it. And I was quite proud of myself, especially since people gave me as much a chance as making it through the class as Pittsburgh had of beating Indianapolis. And when they asked if I wanted to take the "Abs" class with them, I scoffed. It was only ten minutes long and I would be lying on a mat. How bad could that be?

How bad it could it be??? According to my friend Josh, the only way to describe this was to picture a flounder flopping around the floor of the boat after it was caught and waiting to die. I was also now, officially, the only person in history to fall in an abs class, and in the process, almost kicked out someone's teeth. Worst 10 minutes of my life, and I did just lie there for 7 of them.

But I still pretended it was all a piece of cake and, just to prove it, I agreed to take "Bootcamp" the next night. Now, while no one believes me, I was on my way when I saw a friend and she asked if I would come help her volunteer at a soup kitchen and then read to blind children over at NYU Hospital. Otherwise, I was coming, I swear. Over the next week, however, I did the stairmaster thingy where you use your arms also, and took another spin class.

I stopped by my friend's apartment to watch end of the second game yesterday after spending the day with my married friends and some of the kiddies (more on that another time.) As I was lying on the couch, I realized that I had not lost any weight around my stomach.
"I don't get it." I pinched my flab. "How could I not lose any of this with all the cardio I have been doing."
"All the cardio??? You took two classes!??"
"Fuck you. I even ran today after I worked out."
"How much?"
"A quarter mile."
"You ran a block, Scott." she said. "A fucking city block."
"Yes. But I ran." I patted my stomach. "You gonna eat that egg-roll?"

Tonight I am going to do this boot camp thing. I swear.

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Copy That.....

2006-01-20T13:36:00.000-05:00

I am not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I stopped watching television. Actually, that is not accurate. My TV is on 24 hours a day whether I am watching or not. What I mean is that I stopped watching any shows on a regular basis.
The closest I have come is DVRing the entire series of "I Shouldn't Be Alive" on the Discovery Channel. If you haven't seen it, you are missing some quality entertainment.

Simply put, I watch the news, sports, porn, Law and Order reruns and yes, the Discovery Channel. And, oh yeah, the History Channel too sometimes. (We all have a little geek in us don't we?) Now, in 2006, for the first time since Happy Days and Laverne and Shirley dominated Tuesday nights, I have a regular show. Why? Two words:

Flavor Flav.

If you did not catch Flav's antics on The Surreal Life, which I was fortunate enough to catch one day, you are missing some of the funniest shit you have ever seen. This guy smiles and I pee in my drawers. Really, if you have not seen any of this, I cannot be your friend.

Right back atcha' Flav. Love ya too babe.

Anyhoo.... This then had a steamroller effect. Me and friends were watching football and they all stayed to watch Flav. But, more importantly, they were talking about this "24" show and they couldn't believe I hadn't watched in any of the past 4 years. It was as if I said I had not pleasured myself in the last 4 years. I mean, they were acting like I act on Opening day in baseball. Such unbridled enthusiasm over this Jack Bauer fellow. Fine. Ok. I will watch.

Four hours later I was an addict. Give me more. NOW. I even had everyone back over the next night to watch and was shusshing people during the credits. Shit, the last time I had people over specifically to watch a non-sporting event was, well, um, never? I went to buy the first four seasons today and this Lost Show I keep hearing about. I haven't been this excited about TV since The Very Brady Christmas. Well, when I stop writing you will know why...

In any event, maintaining our strict policy of pretending that we are still 20 years old, my friends and I have now incorporated 24 lingo into our everyday lives. As my friend Suzanne said (better?), when we are out and a guy is annoying her, she will indicated she needs help by telling me she is in the "flank two position." And, even better, my friend Josh is going to fuck up something on purpose so when his boss calls him in to discuss, he can say "Copy that" as he leaves. I am waiting to do it myself....

My boss calls me in: "The McLeod hearing is on Monday. As you know, this case is worth millions to the firm."
"I know."
"Make sure you speak to our expert and call the client."
"Copy that."
"What??"
"Um, nothing."

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A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

2006-01-19T14:45:00.000-05:00

I have not taken lunch and have no time to edit anything today. I will say this though....

During this 5 minute break, I checked out my j-date account. Since it has been over 30 degrees, I figured I would write a few people last week. Two of the three wrote back. So maybe I will have some good stories next week. But, what is interesting is the third one...

This person "viewed me" and then proceeded not to open my email. What does this say? If I am not mistaken, this person just said to me, "I find your face so repugnant, so unappealing, that I am not even interested in anything you could possibly have to say to me."

Ouch.

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In Your Dreams.....

2006-01-17T19:42:00.001-05:00

I'm sitting here working and I hear my email click. It is an e-mail from my friend Nancy. Last we spoke she was a little down. Hmmm.... I hope things are okay. I am trying to finish and was going to wait to open it, but changed my mind. She is one person who never, ever, ever aggravates me. Click.....

----------------------
Had a dream about you this weekend. You were fucking two girls, HARD, at the same time. We were all at a party, you three were comfortabley in a room that didn't have a door. From what i remember, the girls were loving it, you were hung like a moose. Even in Dreamworld you're a stud.
-----------------------

I love my friends. I really do.

Nancy, you just got yourself invited to the Knicks-Pistons game Thursday night. Please wear something very sexy.

Speaking of friends, I have been seen in the company of Ms. Dish recently and people have been inquiring. While she is quite fetching and there have been some incriminating photos, we both decided to issue press releases denying a relationship. Dish's doggie could not be reached for comment. See "The Devilish Dog Walker"

I did, however, try and cop a feel......

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A Cinderella Story

2006-01-16T19:31:00.000-05:00

I saw someone I used to date recently. She introduced me to her fiance and it upset me very much. I was not happy, not at all. And this is not because I have any feelings for her. We dated a few years ago and it just never went anywhere. So why was I upset? Well, this guy was, um, lets just say he wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing fellow in the world. Nor was he in the best of physical condition. Who the fuck am I kidding? This guy has not been able to touch his toes since the Carter administration. And this upset me. Why?

Three words: Strength of Schedule.

For any female readers (and lame men) who are not sports savvy, let me briefly explain what this means. Lets take college football for example. There are many factors that determine where teams rank in the BCS poll. One of the factors is "strength of schedule." It is a bit complicated, but it works like this. If you play a team that has a really good record, that increases your strength of schedule. If you play a weaker opponent, this decreases your strength of schedule. The same principal applies to more subjective rankings such as the AP and Coaches poll. Therefore, if you beat a highly ranked team,you get "credit" and voters rank you higher, but if that team thereafter goes out and loses to some team from Idaho, it decreases your "strength of schedule" and the voters no longer think your previous victory was that impressive. In other words, if you beat a team that can't even beat a team from Idaho, what is the accomplishment??

Now, men have similar rankings. No matter how much we deny it, we all note the "quality" of people our friends date and have dated. As do people we are currently dating or may like to date someday. And if a person you have dated/married moves on from you and dates/marries a cross between Uncle Fester and Sam the Butcher (or, worse, gets dumped by them), it completely destroys your "strength of schedule". And the next thing you know, you are making up shit to explain why your ex is with such a man. Yeah, he is the heir to the Facactalovaros fortune. Greek shipping magnate. He has billions. Huh? He doesn't look Greek you say? He was adopted. Go fuck yourself.

So I am really pissed off at this "ex." Is it so much to ask that women I have dated and treated very well have the fucking common courtesy to date better looking men? I mean, let's face it, I don't need people working against me here. I am not aging all that well and whatever boyish good looks I once possessed are fleeting. Shit, Paige told me today that if my life was the NCAA tournament, I would be, at best, a 12 seed. (See todays poll).

I have, in other words, become Middle Tennessee state.

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Talkin bout my generation....

2006-01-13T13:19:00.000-05:00

Before I went out, I was scrolling through the channels and passed MTV on way up the dial. Now, I refuse to watch MTV. Why? Because I do not need to watch the Real World and be reminded that I am getting fucking old. There is another reason. It pisses me off. How could MTV piss me off, you ask?

Ok. So as I passed MTV, I saw two young guys kissing on this dating show "Next", where they set up teens on dates with five people until they hate them and say "Next." Now, I think normalizing this shit so some day people are free to fuck whoever they want is generally a good thing. I mean, if you asked me, someday people are going to look back upon the way gays have been treated the same way we look back on the way blacks were treated. Except, of course, in the red states where they are still trying to find a loophole in the Emancipation proclamation.

In any event, it bothered me. They didn't take homosexual 18 year olds and put them on TV, they put kids who made that Queer Eye dude look masculine. You had to try and be this gay and I think gay people all over the world should be offended. And then when a couple finally clicked, they had these two kids slide down two miniature slides made for little kids, pop up, giggle, and kiss. No heterosexual couple would do this, but they made these gay kids do it? They were just mocking them, and I don't think it was right. And, ok, I will never be able to watch men kiss. Sorry.

BUT, what pissed me off more and sent me on this rant at 1:00 a.m?? The next segment features six 18 year old lesbians. Why did this piss me off so?? Well, first, only two were good looking. Second, I had to get in the shower and they should have had this on first. Third, and most importantly, it reminded my of how FUCKED my generation got.

Today, if girls in high school or college are not hooking up (or at least making out) with other women and having threesomes, they are pariahs. (I read this. I'm not making it up.) And before you accuse me of degrading women, it is simple fact of life that this turns men on. Come on. Tell me that you want to see me kiss Fisher tomorrow night and we can debate this further. The same goes for implants, the quality of which is getting better by the day. And.. Um, where was I going with this.. Other than if I have a daughter, I am gonna be in big, big trouble some day.

Oh yeah. So now on college campuses here is what we have. We have young women, all with great bodies, wearing next to clothing, practicing rampant bisexuality and having orgies. (Again, this is what I read, and what I see on tv.) Now, flash back to the generation before me. Um, can you say "free love." Cute sun dresses. Key Parties (a/k/a wife swapping). I mean, was the sixties/seventies not one big orgie?

But I am 80s kid. And what did we have? Two things. AIDS. And BIG OVERSIZED CHAMPION SWEATSHIRTS. For the only time in recorded history, 18-21 year old women decided that it would be fashionable to wear sweatshirts that were four sizes to big on them and came down to their knees. Not enough, they had those retarded leg warmers in case you wanted to see a little calf. I mean, look at these shirts....

And even worse...

Ok. Just stop it already...

So no, I wont watch MTV. In the end, where video killed the radio star, lesbians killed the video star. Someone wake up the Buggles. Click here

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Just touch my cheek you leave me...., Angel

2006-01-12T13:02:00.000-05:00

So yesterday my friend e-mails my blog to some list. I didn't mind. My other friends have done so, and I have picked up some readers. I had thought she meant she was putting my link at the bottom of some other mailing, but it was for this sole purpose. Uy. I didn't really care, but based on the people who somehow got this, I was a little spooked. I received many e-mails, but fortunately, I have not heard from my mother yet.

All the emails were very nice, including all of you from Camp Pontiac. Speaking of which, please, someone, I beg you, tell me what Paul Schneider was like as a child. Was he allowed to play in intercamp games? If so, were there incidents? I hear he was banned ever going back to Camp Echo and his picture is still in their canteen. While we are at it, please send me any incriminating stories of Rotblut so when he threatens to kick me out of fantasy football for submitting my fantasy football lineup at 1:01, I can shut him up).

Anyhoo... there were two e-mails I received that floored me. The first was from a woman that I was very close to in law school and, ironically, made it into a blog that I never posted. (She will be very proud of me for writing woman, not girl). It was something I wrote early on, and it had a sappy moment in it, so I went with an amputee fucking a llama instead. I re-read it last night and think I will post it soon. I figure I should at least respond to her e-mail first. (That and I need to make sure her best friend is remotely stable and will not start calling me a pathetic loser who has been in love with her since 1994. But I digress....)

The other one was my first "hate mail." And I was certainly taken back. Despite receiveing many flattering e-mails and messages passed along to me, I let it bother me. Really bother me. Until I thought about it.... She wrote -

Y would you have your friend promote this? That piece of writing portrays you as an immature man who is not only degrading to women, Jewish women, but also promotes a negative view of women, given your reference to a woman “blowing” ½ the city.

That was not the experience I had of you from our previous although brief interactions. Perhaps your friend is just being what we call a “guy” but I am sure you would not appreciate your mother or sister being referred to in the terms or tone you speak of!

I was not going to respond, but I decided I would here.

Dear Dumbass,

Please send me your address so I can send you the hit trilogy, "Angel", "Avenging Angel" and "Angel III, The Final Chapter." But please forgive me for speaking about this character in such terms. In reality, she was a high school student by day (not a librarian) and a prostitute blowing men in Hollywood (not New York) by night. Um, sorry if I degraded a fictional hooker. You can buy the whole set here in fact.... Angel, the Trilogy

And I would never speak of my sister like that. If you knew my sister, you would know that my brother-in-law told me that she refuses to give him blowjobs anymore. (Just kidding Sue, Steve is quite satisfied.). As far as my mom.....

Finally, if I recall, you wrote me, we exchanged a few e-mails. This was not an "experience", it was a coffee break.

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Busy?

2006-01-11T23:58:00.000-05:00

I saw my friend Jodi walking home from the the gym tonight. She told me that she received an e-mail today from a friend "promoting" my blog. (More on this later, except to say I have no idea how people such as my sisters best friend since elementary school got it. Unreal.)

"What are you doing later?" she said.
"Going to write for a bit, then meeting a friend for a drink," I said.
"I have no idea how you have time to write. I am so busy! You must have a lot of free time on your hands lately."
I took a deep breath. I resolved not to answer that question anymore. Instead, I asked, "What are you doing tonight?"
"Gonna' go home. Return a few calls, watch Lost. Sooooo excited." She grabbed my elbow. "Ohhhhh! Have you seen the Flavor Flav Batchelor show? I DVRed the second episode and am gonna' watch it later. It is hyyyysterical."
I shook my head. Oh, where do I find the time.
"What are you shaking your head about?"
I chuckled. "Nothing."
"So what are you going to write about tonight?"
"I have no idea."

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You have some nerve....

2006-01-10T13:12:00.000-05:00

I logged onto Jdate for the first time in weeks today to check the emails I have not read. I must confess, I am the guy who takes your number and does not call. I am the guy who once a month, gets an urge to write, then does not respond when you do. And, today, I am the guy who was not in the mood to be berated, so I still have not opened them.

Now, I hear women complain about this all the time, as if it is personal. It has NOTHING to do with you. Ok. For some of you it does. I can tell you are going to bore the hell out of me and I nip it in the bud right there. But usually, it really is not personal. I just have no patience lately and would rather hang out with my friends. I don't understand how people date when it is under 30 degrees. I mean, either stash away your nuts during the fall or starve. That is my philosophy at least. I've done my risk/benefit analysis, and the chances of me meeting someone I like does not warrant me freezing my ass off to go meet you.

Anyhoo...I was about to finally open my mail when I got an IM from a friend who tells me to check out nerve.com. So I take a gander. From what I can see, whereas J-date is for the Jews, Match is for the goys (and Jews who have become sick of J-date), Nerve appears to cater to a different "type." A more eclectic, creative, free-spirited type of person.

I was quite intrigued by this, even though these are not the type of women that I have had success with. I mean, we all have our strength and weaknesses and our "niche" in this world. And, generally speaking, on paper, I am not attracting some artsy graphic designer living in a loft in Soho. The whole lawyer thing is as attractive to them as being a plumber is to my friends.

But, in the interest of research, I join so I can check it out. Of course, right away I recognize some people that have been on J-date since its inception and have not changed their pictures. In one case, a girl has resorted to begging. She has entitled her profile "Please get me off dating sites!" Well, at least she said please....I go on to fill out a basic profile and was asked fun questions, including:

- What is your favorite sex scene;
- Fill in the blanks" ____ is sexy; ____ is sexier;
- In my bedroom, you will find.. ______

Now we're talking.... So I do a search. Click away to narrow search and take the, um, more robust women out.... 5 miles from location.. I am a man seeking... Friendship... Casual dating... Serious Relationship...Activity Partners... Play.... Hold up. "Play?" What is this "play" category. It surely does not mean Scrabble or Frisbee in the park, because that would be considered an "activity partner." It is not even casual dating because, well, that is casual dating. So what is this play thing? Of course, in the interest of professional journalism, I must find out. CLICK. DELETE ALL OTHER POSSIBILITIES.

Scroll Scroll... Click Click. Girl in teddy, back arched, biting a chain.. Click, click... Woman being kissed on neck by another woman.. Click..Click...Best 34 bucks I ever spent. Click. Click. Whoooooooooooooooooooooooa Nellie. No. Is that? Yes, it is.

Ok. Remember that movie the main charachter is a mousy librarian, by night she is blowing half of Manhattan? Well, on this site is a girl who I have seen on Jdate and appeared very conservative, and wanted to meet someone to take romantic walks in the park. Now, here she is, informing me that she believes that making a movie is sexier than watching one and, in her bedroom I will find her rabbit. Um, can you say "hotlist?"

I just did another risk/benefit analysis. And now I am going to buy a warmer jacket, scarf and gloves.

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Do not pass go....

2006-01-09T15:10:00.000-05:00

First of all, I never want some of you mad at me. I have received some e-mails with some really creative, and twisted, suggestions regarding the "stalker" issue.

But the best email came from my my personal attorney, who informed me that as of last Thursday - a day before this latest barrage - it is a federal offense to anonymously annoy someone on a blog. Think I am kidding? Please read....

Perri Goes to Prison

In the statute is a part called "Preventing Cyberstalking." Here's the relevant language.

"Whoever...utilizes any device or software that can be used to originate telecommunications or other types of communications that are transmitted, in whole or in part, by the Internet... without disclosing his identity and with intent to annoy, abuse, threaten, or harass any person...who receives the communications...shall be fined under title 18 or imprisoned not more than two years, or both."

Can there be any doubt that there was, at least, the intent to annoy? My attorney is presently finding out who to contact to press charges. This is going to be suuuuuuuuuuuuuch a fun week.

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Top 10 Scott Quotes of 2005 (Submitted by the three yoyos).

2006-01-06T00:17:00.000-05:00

Written and submitted by my three friends and I promised to post. I edited only to the extent that none of them appear to know how to spell.

Scenario 1: We return from the bathroom from with a "friend" of Scott's. Scott is heading out, does a double take. Scott's friend tells him that I took her coat.

Scott: "You re-checked her coat?"
Paige: "So?"
Scott: "We were leaving."
Paige: "You can go. But she is staying with us. We are having fun."
Scott: "You actually took her coat out of her hand and rechecked it?"
Paige: "Yeah."
Scott: "Please tell me I was not just cockblocked by a woman."

Scenario 2: We are out shopping for Scott's Halloween Party, Scott allegedly went home to clean his apt... Upon our return,

Laurie: "If he is sitting at that computer I will murder him"
We walk in to find Scott sleeping on the couch.
Paige: "Are you kidding me???"
Scott: "Whaat? I was tired"
Paige: "Are you kidding? We worked all day, you went to the gym and to lunch!"
Scott: "Your point being?"

Scenario 3: Scott has shingles. I call him.

Scott: "What could not be conveyed in a text?"
Laurie: "Stop it. Do you need anything?"
Scott: "Yeah. Can you come clean my kitchen."
Laurie: "That's about as likely as you calling me just to say hello."
Scott: "Ok. Cranberry juice?"

Scenario 4: Scott still has shingles and is stuck in apt. A group of us are all out at a bar.
Text to Deb: Hello
Text to Laurie: Hello
Text to Paige: I am not happy. :(
Paige: Why?
Text: "Nobody is paying attention to me."

Scenarios 5:

I was walking down the street with Scott. We come up to someone he knows.

Scott: "Can I pet the doggies?"
Stranger: "No."
Expletives exchanged. We keep walking.
Scott: "That went well, no?"
Laurie: "So....that was Katrina?"
Scott: "No. Her friend. Don't ask."
Laurie: "She wasn't very nice."
Scott: "I should have just pet them without asking."
Laurie: "You should have your head examined."

The next week we are walking not far from there. Three people are approaching us.

Scott: "Oy."
Lauire: "What?"
Scott: "Hi Katrina."
Katrina: "Hi Scott"
They slow down like they might say hello, but kept walking.
Scott: "That too went well, no?"
Laurie: "So.... that was Katrina."
Scott: "Yup"
Laurie: "She seemed nice."
Scott: "How do I look?"
Laurie: "Fine."
Scott: "Do I match?"
Laurie: "Yes you match."
Scott: "I should have worn a coat."
Laurie: "You should have your head examined"
Scott: "Yeah. But I look really good in that coat?"

Scenario 6: Party at Serena. Scott plays it "cool."

Scott: "Jon, this is Dara. Dara, this is Jon."
Deb: "That was dumb."
Scott: "Trust me. I know what I am doing."

......Weeks later at Bounce.
Deb: "I see Dara and Jon are getting along."
Scott: "I know what I am doing."
Deb: "You sure?"
Scott : "Come on. I'm no amateur."

......Weeks later at Med
Deb: "So Dara is coming New Years"
Scott: "Yep"
Deb: "I hear her and Jon have been dating"
Scott: "Yep"
Deb: "Still know what you are doing?"
Scott: "Not a clue."
Deb: "I see she didn't even make the kissing poll, Casanova."
Scott: "Fuck you."

Scenario 7: Scott left Deb alone by the bar while his tab was still open.

Scott: Where the fuck is the little blonde girl??????
(This occurred 18 times in 2005).

Scenario 8: Scott met my ex-boyfriend the night before.

Scott: "Wasn't I nice to your ex last night???"
Paige: "You said hello, Scott."
Scott: "Yes. But it was a warm hello"

Scenario 9: Scott wants to go to Scoop.

Scott: "This may be the gayest thing i ever said, but will you ask Dr. Mike to take
me shopping after the Giant's game."
Paige: "He said yes."
Scott: "You have to come"
Paige: "Why?"
Scott: "I cant go with him alone."
Inside, I walk away, Scott comes and finds me.
Scott: "What the hell are you doing???"
Paige: "Shopping?"
Scott: "No, you must stay within five feet of us at all times. This is how rumors get started."

Scenario 10: Scott's dad comes to his apartment to pick him up to go to Florida. His suitcase is open but unpacked - I meet Scott's dad (who is sooooo nice by the way.)

Laurie: "You gonna pack soon?
Scott picks up his laundry bag off the floor and dumps half in the suitcase. Dad looks at me and shakes his head.
Dad: "You done?"
Scott bounces on suitcase with knee as he stuffs clothes in from ends and zips bag. Scott: "Yep"
Laurie: "Scott, I don't think you have any pants in there?"
Scott: "Good point."
Scott takes pair of jeans and chinos out of the closet and flips them over his shoulder. "Ready?"
Dad: "You think its easy?"
Laurie: "You have no idea."

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Random Thoughts, Part 4

2006-01-05T08:52:00.000-05:00

-- How easy is it really to "shoot a fish in a barrel?" I mean, has anyone ever even attepted this?? I gotta believe this would not be easy at all, especially considering if you miss the little fucker, you've shot a hole in the barrel and you are not going to get another shot.

-- I would like the minutes from the meeting when Aventis came up Extended Release Ambien. Something seems just so wrong about that. "For those who just can't sleep past noon anymore...." I really think they are just laughing at us at this point.

-- If you feel compelled to spend your entire paycheck betting the pick 4 using every permutation of your birthday, anniversary, and day you were released from prison, fine. That is your business. But I am not goint to patiently wait on line behind you, especially if I need something urgent, like a Twinkie.

-- Dumbest question I was asked in 2005: "Scott, what would you do with a 23 year old girl?" Oh, young Skywalker...much to learn about men, you have.

-- I dont trust people three types of people.. men who dont drink, women who don't masturbate, and anyone whose favorite candy of the four is Special Dark.

-- Please don't force "dirty talk." I mean, if it doesn't come from somewhere genuine inside you, you can sound really stupid. (Think Keanu Reeves in Hamlet). These are the same people who get a daily planner from their Secret Santa and scream, "OH MY GOD! I LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE IT" like they got a four carat diamond. Sometimes, its ok to nod and say thanks for the effort.

-- Last minutes scratches from the recently released Katrina Benefit Album

1. Galveston - Glenn Campbell
2. Walking on Sunshine - Katrina and the Waves
3. When the Levy Breaks - Led Zeppelin

-- Fuck "Lost", I want to know when I can get the entire series of "Good Times" on DVD.

-- Ok. I admit it. I watched Mean Girls 8 times in the last month and loved every second of it.

-- Stop asking me if I need anything when I am sick. You don't mean it and you know it. From now on, I don't care who you are and where you live. If you ask me if I need anything, I am saying yes.

-- I recently went on a date with a girl who had no idea that the recent Bad News Bears movie was a remake. I think that will be my age litmus test. If I ever use this j-date thing again, I will require that any woman who I meet knows who Kelly Leak, Engleberg and Lupus are. Or at least one of them.

-- Speaking of J-date, what exactly is this "zest for life" all these people keep talking about? Listen, its winter, be happy if I make it to work on time every day. From here until April, "tolerance for life" is the best you are getting from me.

-- It is simply not the same when a 30 year old woman beds a 15 year old boy as when a 30 year old man beds a 15 year old girl. And, on behalf of 15 year old boys everywhere, not only should this not be crime, but should be encouraged. There, I said it.

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New Years Poll Results (More pics added, edited 1/4)

2006-01-03T11:46:00.000-05:00

Early in the evening, the three yoyos remained the prohibitive favorites.

But when my friend Jen decided to come at the last minute, there were huuuuge bets placed on "the field." (which means anyone not listed in the poll for those non-gamblers out there). She, unfortunately, rebuffed my advances.

(Pic removed pending return of consent form).

My efforts to seduce her with my prose having failied, I went the other way and I bit her in the ass. This not only got me nowhere, but worse, I now realized that I am going bald. Was anyone going to tell me?

I looked around, but neither Dish or her mother (16 votes, although I think she stuffed the ballot box) showed up. That being said, I did finally meet Dish the night before and spoke on the phone with her mom, who was quite amusing. Any women who laughs when I call her a MILF is okay with me. We have a date next month. See Dish's take on our first meeting in her blog entry "The Devil and Ms. Dish"

Nor did I kiss my ex-wife (4 votes), although she was present and a good sport about the whole thing. Of interest, there were many, many comments that she looked a friend of mine who was also there. What I found interesting about it is that they are the only two people I know who will hunt me down and kill me if I put their pics on here. And, now that I think of it, I am equally scared of both of them. The only noticible differene between the two is that my ex-wife genuinely seems to like me.....

Speaking of exes, I, of course, did not kiss Katrina (6 votes), Peggy (1 vote) or Katrina's doorman (13 votes) at midnight. Katrina was, however, the clear favorite in the unwritten poll discussed amongst a few people, "Who would Scott drunk text at some point in the evening." (See below).

Therefore, it came down to the "favorites" (as it should have been since they are so very special to me) and was with three of them as the clock wound down (Marvin's Balls not pictured). As midnight struck, I gave a real kiss to one of them that would qualify her as the winner. Then I kissed another, but when she realized what was going on, she pulled away and said "Scoooooooooooooooooooooott." It is thusfar unclear whether this kiss was long enough to count. It was, however, long enough that I can remind her daily that she slipped me the tongue. The third, having seen this revolting display, was laughing too hard to be kissed. The fourth, the early favorite, was nowhere to be found. (Rumor has it she was being fondled by someone who was not her date).

Marvin, it seems, was frantically looking for me and was quite upset that no one would tell him, and his balls, where I was.

So, in the end, there were two winners, whose names need not be revealed. Of much greater interest, I think, is who ended up winning the "drunk and text" poll. I had sworn I would not text anyone, and was being good, but this one just happened. I still maintain I was entrapped. Nevertheless, I am certain the recipient was very surprised, and hopefully amused. Hopefully so was her date if he saw it.

Well, after quite an inauspicious beginning, 2005 turned out to be a great year. I reconnected with some old friends and made some stellar new ones. So, to all of my friends and readers, new and old, close and not so close, (and even those who I have really pissed off), have a Happy and Healthy New Year. In the end, I would say my year can be summed up as follows.....

And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right?...Am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
My God!...What have I done?

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Feeling better?

2005-12-30T08:59:00.000-05:00

Went out on a Thursday night for the first time in a month, finally feeling better. I still have felt a little off, and was not going to drink. Not going to drink quickly turned into, "I'll just have a beer." Which was replaced with, "Ok. One drink.", "just a couple", then later a call to the bar,

"Paige, can you get me another?"
"You have a full one in front of you."
"Yes, but by the time you get back, I won't."
She appeared to be pondering this, then nodded in agreement and turned around. I turned back to the group, and as I did, Rachel slid by me to sit down and her ass grazed my face. I noted, not for the first time, that she had a great ass. And I felt compelled to tell her so. So I pulled out the Treo.....

A few minutes later, a text comes back thanking me. (Now, we are all friends, but this is the way I entertain myself when I am drunk sometimes.) I said your welcome, and proceeded to tell her that she also had amazing lips. And asked why I had not yet wrapped mine around them....
She texted back that she was getting hot......
I looked up at her to tell her that...and found my friend Jason with her phone in his hand, batting his eyes at me.

I was so disgusted that I knocked my drink all over my friend Elysas leg. When I came back from getting her napkins, she was bent over wiping off her shoe. I gave her a little spank. "Elysa, you too have a very fine ass."
Paige came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. "Take your drink."
I kicked some glass under the table. "See. I told you I would need another."
She rolled her eyes. "Can we go to the diner now?"
"Yes, I think maybe that would be best."
"So glad you a feeing better."
I steadied myself as we walked toward the door. "Hey. I thought I was the glue."
"Not the word I had in mind at the moment."

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The Devil's Playground

New Web Site

Sneak Preview

Just about done...

Almost Finished

Under Construction.....

Still Under Construction

Under Construction

What's in a name

No Stopping or Standing, Fri-Sun

That Wasn't Wise

Injury Report: Day to Day

A Moment Like This

Even More Random Thoughts

Shock and Awe

Who's calling?

A tough act to follow....

He said, She said...

If All Else Fails.....

Six degrees of stupidity

Gone Fishing

The Devil Dates...

update

Update

I Don't Believe What I Just Saw.

May 3, 2006

Random Collection

April 8, 2006: I'm getting old.....

If you need to reach me....

Through The Years

Another 18 Holes Played...

Flashback to October...

5 Minutes 'til Wapner...

Help Wanted

Like I always say....

40 is the next 20?

Can I still get an exit row?

Update: On location

Where's Linda Lovelace?

Patient Zero

My Family

In the News

Ask Mr. Coles, Part III

I'm gonna need a Payment Plan

More Random Thoughts

Update

Bracket Buster - 1804

Politically Incorrect

Rock Bottom....

Get Together Update

Hoops Tounrey for Charity

Flip Cup 2005

Duty Free

What about Bob?

Another First

Prologue

On location

Get Together

Looking for love in all the wrong places.....

Im gonna need a hacksaw

More Questions for Mr. Coles.....

Now in a non-drowsy formula...

You coming or going??

Come again?

The Road to Vancouver, 2010

Happy Valentines Day

Last minute Valentine's Day ideas

Ask Mr. Coles - Relationships

Thusfar Untitled

Dear Mr. Jennings, Part 2

Looking for Tommy Turner

Ask Mr. Coles.....

Any Questions?

What Will They Think of Next?

Out of Office Reply: (no subject)

Random Dialogue

After Further Review.....

UES Fit Club

Copy That.....

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words