But, I'm funny how? Funny like a clown? I amuse you? I make you laugh? I'm here to fuckin' amuse you?

Nobody liked the story? OK no more stories. For now.

When a girl is asked what she looks for in a guy she usually responds with the same criteria: good personality and he has to be funny.
Well the personality think is overrated. So we'll throw that sucker out the window. As long as you're not an asshole personality is all standard.

I have a beef with the funny part.

I mean how funny do I need to be? Should I go right into my stand up routine? I mean I can start making wild remarks about daily observations or comment on how my culture is not like yor culture. However that's all been done to death.

I have been trying to be more funny lately. My humor is more comeback related. Like the stupid store called and they are running at of you type stuff.
However, I've been watching a lot of WB and Buffy lately so I'm trying to be more quirky and use clever dialogue. I mean everybody wants to talk all sitcomishly? No?

I mean Buffy always comes up with some clever witty comeback or funny little piece of mumbo jumbo. A pop culture reference you haven't heard for a long time. A twist of words and phrases.

Example: Buffy: Oh, no... I have to go take an English make-up exam. They give you credit just for speaking it, right?

So damn clever.

I mean do I have to have be always on 100% funny mode when I meet a girl. What's the protocol? There should really be a manual they hand out when you hit puberty.
I mean funny is all relative isn't it? I use gratuitous movie references, TV sitcom quotes and loads of Simpsons one liners. Some girls just don't get the references which pretty much gets you a C- on the "Am I funny quiz?" when your trying to be all James Bond on them.

I do look funny. I mean spiky hair and geeky glasses. I could go for the Elvis Costello look. But that's not me. And my hair doesn't move like that. My "look" can be best described as Sid Vicious meets Bruce Lee dressed in an English major's pea coat and Van's sneakers designer look. But I don't want somebody laughing at me because I dressed up in the dark and am stuck circa 1999.

What I'm trying to say is what is the definition of funny? I try to save my best stuff for special occassions. I have a good backup humorous anecdote that I only bring out for special occasions. It's like a secret weapon. It's when your on the ropes, getting pummeled and you have no choice but to bring it out. Nobody is prepared and KABOOM! you just killed em. So funny this anecdote is, tears are coming out of their eyes.

But then there are times I go into a lull. I'm not funny. My jokes are hitting air. I completely bombed. My comebacks are like bullets hitting Superman. No effect.
Somebody just smack me with a wooden steak knife. Somebody suck up all the air in my lungs.

Are there different styles to being funny? Can somebody be NOT funny? Like at all? I mean can somebody be comepletely be devoid of humor? Do you have to learn to be funny? Is there a University of Funny? Can I major in Funnymonics? OK I went a little overboard. Sometimes I'm funny like that.

I'm a big user of the (pun intended) routine. Like who's Yao Ming's favorite teammate on the Houston Rockets? Glen Rice. (pun intended)
Or I'll use all my power to transition to a meaningless conversation about my Segway fetish. Will Segways cause pedestrian traffic accidents? Will there be laws against driving drunk on Segways? Drunk segwaying? Will you need license plates on Segways? Will there be Segway police? Can you get pulled over for speeding on a Segway? I'm gonna have my Segway built with Super Pursuit mode. And it's gonna have that wooooooo woooooooo sound too.

(OK see here we go. 3 Of you will get the "super pursuit mode" joke, the rest of you will be lost. I mean eventually you'll get it. It may be like next week, your sitting on the toilet taking a shit and it just hits you. Please be sure to comment or e-mail me that you got the joke. It makes me feel happy that you finally got it. For the others in your group that haven't gotten it yet, let them marinate on the joke for a while. Some people need more time than others. Other people are dumb as a turd.)

I am fully aware that I've mocked myself and have filled this blog with mild attempts at humor. I'm trying Ringo. I'm trying real hard to be the sheppard of funny.

D'oh!

So what's this personality thing everybody is talking about?

End Transmission

Renting Time

By Jeff A.

"So, where's God now?"
"Are you asking me?"
"Yeah of course I'm talking to you. I don't see him. Where the hell is he? You talk about him like he's everywhere. I don't see him. You don't see him. Your beliefs and all that other shit... it's all a bunch of made-up stories some overzealous writer wrote a thousand years ago."

The car's engine hummed slowly as they drove down the darkened highway. Judy remained quiet looking straight at the road. Shawn calmly took a cigarette from his pack of Parliament Lights. He lit it up and puffed away. A few minutes later they drove past a rest stop. Both turned their heads quickly looking intently at the now blurred run down gas station. Their speed impeded many observations throughout the night and quickly this blur vanished into the black night. The smoke listlessly rose filling Judy's blue Volkswagen rabbit with a distinct stench of tobacco. The night's cold and frigid air creeped it's way through the air vents. Shawn cracked the window a bit and flicked his cigarette out the window. The breeze blew in, giving the two chills for 2.5 seconds.

"All I'm saying is that you believe everything in that book is true. And on what? A leap of faith" Shawn commented.
"Yes. A leap of faith" Judy responded.
"It's just that everything you read isn't necessarily true. I once read this book by this guy who thought a UFO near Area 51 abducted him. Well, some bullshit show like Inside Edition revealed it was fuckin fake. Can you believe that? I bought into everything he wrote. Man, I really was fooled. It was like I--"
"You’re a fool. Period."
"That's nice of you to say."
"Well you are. I can't believe your talking to me about the politics of religion when you don't believe in anything. Shit, the only things you care about are government conspiracies. Who's the fool now?" said Judy laughing.
"Well aren't we a little resistant?"
"What's that suppose to mean?"

The road now took some jagged left turns. Judy's concentration lay on the task ahead. She placed both hands making risky maneuvers at very questionable speeds. Shawn took out another cigarette, lit it and took continuous drags till he started to cough. The trees lay still, revealing themselves only in a flurry of brown leaves and branches reaching for the moonlight. The wind's fury swayed the mountainous trees back and forth. However, they kept standing despite Mother Nature's disrespectful, unsympathetic nudging.

Shawn placed his hand on the knob of the radio. He pressed the "Power" button hoping to hear tunes that shadowed his early recollections of 1980's new wave. Judy now drove past some old wooden barns. A few hundred cows littered the pasture. They must be cold she thought. Poor animals.

"It doesn't work. Jake broke it trying to find his radio station," she said.
"Are we there yet? We've been driving for like 4 hours. Are we even in the vicinity of the damn place?" said Shawn.
“You are an uber complainer. You trying to beat a Guinness record?”
“Yes” Shawn said sarcastically.

Judy slowed the car down as they approached a stoplight. The moonlight glared in all directions. Smoke filled the car prompting Judy to echo a mini cough. With silence encompassing the car, Shawn looked over at his partner in crime. Her glowing shadowy hair, her jaded tinted eyes and her quirky shimmering smile. He clamored everyday with thoughts about her, running a thousand different possibilities about what she might say if he disclosed his true feelings. It was as poets say: “a burning desire of guilt”. He wanted to tell her. To show her. But it’s too risky. His true feelings though would lead to only to trouble. Only open the floodgates to his more vaulted secret. And that revelation was more risky to divulge than anybody had ever imagined.

[Would you like to read more?]

End Transmission

My Nemesis is my Trek to the Stars

I'll admit it.

See there I admitted it.

And you thought I was not going to do it.

Damn you!

OK OK. I watched Star Trek: Nemesis.

I have to admit. It wasn't that good. And I'm being biased. I'm not sure why it wasn't good. It just wasn't. It's like a gut feeling. I watched a mediocre Star Trek flick. ANd the odd/even rule thing didn't hold true.
Picard, Data, Riker, Crusher, La Forge, Worf, Troi. And it came up empty. That's all I have to say about that.

So Festivas is upon us. Oh joy. So happy Festivus!

Rey Ordonez is no longer a New York Met. Should I stand on line for tickets now?

Wow I'm completely running low on leftover thoughts. Anybody want to share theirs?

End Transmission

Reflecting in the cold

With the pending NYC Transit strike looming in the horizon, I guess I'll be sleeping til noon. Yippy kay yay!

Glenda introduced me to a very cool site called Mirror Project. So with my digi cam handy I brought it along to Des Moines with me and low and behold mirrors galore.
Check out the pics.

Mirror Company

Mirror Company Part Deux

I like part deux better. It's got that "oh crap, I'm stuck in Des Moines" feel to it. I'm gonna submit more pics. It's a really nifty thing to do.

End Transmission