“You’re going to get through this; you’re going to be fine.”

I stayed out at a benefit party until the wee hours of the morning singing karaoke with drag queens, playing Wii bowling and talking up my buddies ex girlfriend and her cute little buddy until the sun came up. So much for not drinking for a day. Why does 4am come so fast? Also is there any way to avoid a cocktail in this town for 24hrs if you leave the house? Last but not least… If I never go grocery shopping, why can I always find something to eat out of old condiments and stale chips? Son of a bitch I need to find a passion for something other than booze and tits… Not that there is anything wrong with those things.

Well, I missed the Oscars. I actually enjoy them in a fucked up way. Being the cynical fuck that I am it surprises me that I sit here upset with myself for missing them for booze and boobies. In hindsight I should have went with the Oscars. Booze and tits be damned! God damn this 20/20 hindsight bullshit is always right. The thing is, I am going to LA for some film stuff at the end of the week and I wanted to remind myself that the famous are cooler than us and have better teeth. Damn it, I’ll just have to pick up People to fill me in and the wonderful gossip that only happens in La La Land.

I am stoked all my favorite films won. Proof again that my opinion rules and what I think is awesome; truly is. My title of king shit motherfucker stays in tact. I love the Coen brothers with all my heart (as much as you can man love a brother filmmaking team) and was touched by Best picture winner “No Country For Old Men” in a way that only they can. What other filmmakers make you identify with the oddities of life quite like the Coens? They make violence an endearing ballet. Not to mention, they are from my hometown and make me proud to be a Minnesotan. Also banging out the talent from MN, Diablo Cody, an ex stripper from the greatest dive dance club ever located right in downtown Minneapolis came up with the best screenplay for “Juno.” This was the feel good, hip ass comedy of the year. Check it out; it will make you chuckle and cry. (I’m a pussy)

Reading about this as I sit here awaiting yet another hangover I tip my hat to those that followed there passion to the ninth degree and grace us with powerful stories straight from the deepest parts of their mind and the deepest parts of their hearts. The Coens and Ms Cody make me want to be a better filmmaker, a better writer, and a better person. As much as booze and boobies rule, winning an Oscar has got to feel pretty damn good. Imagine all the booze and boobies you get then.

Reading some info on Juno early this morning I came across this out take. I want to give the chubby kid a hug after I “Animal House” the other guy over the head with his acoustic guitar. I know it wrong, but I can’t help myself. I hate acoustic guitar boys, yet I love this moment in film because it feels so innocent and real. I’m not even sure this is even part of the movie but i heart it anyways. Enjoy

Update: so this isn’t from the movie..oops The reason it feels so real and endearing is because it is real and endearing. They are the Naked Sumos. These guys are simple sweet and awesome. I’m usually more of hip hop – funk- soul guy but i got some love for the sappy acoustic stuff as well. I’m not going to put on a James Taylor album or identify to much with Elliot smith (RIP) but these kids got me. So support them, see them, make them your myspace friend and tell them how much they kick ass.

There must be a space in the middle

I went to a birthday party on Saturday night. I was a pretty good party I’d have to say. Full of nice people. Nice food, nice dresses. Shit everything was pretty nice. Better than completely sucking. I was kind of hoping for a big breakdown or a chick fight or something to break up the monotony of this nice party, alas nothing happened. I double dipped some of the nice food in the nice dip and watched as some nice looking girl gave me a not so nice face. Ha, fuck her. I tripled dipped just to be not so nice.

(Ah… lost my train of thought. Had to go chase my crazy Aunt Mary’s asshole Chihuahua. I hate that fucking dog. Luckily for my aunt the dog was okay. I was secretly hoping for it to be run over by a mail truck.)

I digress. So anyhoo, in order to have a nice time I figured it was best to suck down about three beers before I even started to try and interact with all of these nice people.
I spied with my little eye, a group of my friends in the corner sitting on silly plastic orange chairs that were supposed to be hip. I dug them, but I hate it when furniture is trying hard to be hip and I also hate it when furniture is hipper and dressed better than me. At least there was a place to sit. Unfortunately the only place to sit was on the bitch seat in the couch, right in the middle between a girl and a guy. They waved me over so there was really nothing I could do but sit and see if my conversation skills were up to par this evening. My buddy next to me started talking about gambling, fights, football, blood, and chicks. Good ‘ol fashioned guy stuff. He wasn’t very nice and I liked it.

The next thing I know the group around us had left. I’ve been told I have aloud voice and I very well might have said a couple of choice words and sentences that may have been scene as uncalled for. Or there was cocaine in the bathroom. I’m not sure which. I’d say it was a 50/50 bet. Then something very weird happened. I realized that my buddy and me were the only two on the couch and I was still sitting in the middle right next to him. How very gay. AHHHHhhh.

I jumped quickly to the other side of the couch. “Sorry” I said. “I was feeling a little weird, all up on you like that” “Wow, your right” he replied, “I didn’t even realize the spot had opened up next to you, thanks for moving”

That was a close call. We both agreed it’s never good to sit right next to another man if it can be helped.

The conversation then turned in to the rules that every guy should know.

Such as:

You have to ask your buddy if it’s cool to go out with some chick he dated. He’ll never say no for fear of looking like a softy girly man. If you do it with out asking you are a snake and have broken a man rule and should be shot. Ask, and you get out Scott free. You win. But be careful, as it will come back to you at some point.

Another rule we discussed was going to the movies with a guy. Whoever is first in line buys the tickets, and then the other guy has to get the sodas and candy. It’s pretty much a wash financially, but it keeps us from looking like cheap assholes as well as not looking like we are on a date.

When sitting in a theater you must, at all costs, get a place to sit that has a seat in the middle of you. Let me repeat, there must be one chair between you. There is no substitute. If there is not an available chair you then must exit the theater and head straight to a bar with no words being said.

I went to the movies with a buddy a couple of months ago and he sat next to me in an empty theater. I did my job and explained to him the rules of going to the movies and you cannot sit right next to another man. He felt stupid, as he should have and moved over. He held his head down in shame thinking of al the movies he went to and made people feel weird. I’m here to help

The rest of the party was a blur. But it was nice to know there are others out there like me that understand these things. It made me feel very nice.

It’s late in the day and I have to go play bocce soon. More man rules coming up. I want this to be larger column soon. Please send me some of your thoughts for man rules. I would like to compile a big list. Just put them on here as a comment or email them to me.

Cheers!

JYAG

You really got a hold on me

“Sure, ill meet you out for one drink.” Famous last words. I have no self-control. None. Zero. Zilch. (Evidently, I also enjoy short sentences.) Alas, one drink turned in to several and then a few more. I entertained myself with a pair of moose haired Jersey girls and an evening full of strange events. Getting wacky with chicks and being my usual douche bag self out on the town is not what today’s bloggity blog blog is about. No no. This is my declaration that I am giving up the entire month of September to the drinking gods. Pretty bold statement with only 5 or 6 days left in the month. When its time to man up, I’m your guy.

I enjoy being hung over lately and I have September to thank for that. I’ve become really good at it though. I’m a trained professional, hangover artist. My house is filled with different kinds of pills, from vitamin B to vitamin Vicodin that ease me through my tough demanding days. I have eggs and cheese and VH1 on Tivo. There are hours of Scrubs at my disposal with the push of a button. In the corner of the dusty living room, a plethora of hangover movies call my name. Hungary? I got you covered, I know every take out number by heart, sometimes I scream out broccoli with beef late in to the afternoon. I need help.

That help will come with the month of October. October is my friend and wants me to work hard, exercise and do un to other and all that shit. Not like September, or August for that matter. Those ugly fucking months forced booze and debauchery down my throat like I was a baby bird dying of hunger. Bastards

For the next few days im going to succumb to wrath of September and roll with it. I like moose haired jersey girls and I don’t see October bringing anything to the table just yet.

In the mean time I do enjoy people screaming obsinities that have turrets. I give to you Turrets guy. He is one of my favorite people on the world and is the sole reason I scream out BOB SAGET when I’m pissed off.

Funny ‘toon

This made me laugh. Ha! I dig it when i find other people (besides myself and my many personalites) funny.

This cartoon rules