Friday, January 31, 2014

Foxy Knoxy parties at the Roxy

I have to imagine dying of an overdose is a pretty unremarkable thing. There isn't some crazy backstory to it, you're just fucked up, do one more line or shot or whatever before bed and then you die, alone. It might not have even been that crazy of a night, it's just the night your body decided to call it quits. Janis Joplin was at a shitty sports bar called Barney's the night she died. For perspective, Barney's is a gimmicky bar with foosball and air hockey next to a cool bar called Palihouse. When Palihouse rejects us, we go to Palihouse, have a few beers and play pop a shot. These nights are never very memorable, they are solid 5's. I'm sure Janis Joplin had many a crazy bender in her day. Benders that would be worthy of an overdose death. This was not one. I can't imagine having a shitty OD death. Dying would be bad enough, but dying after drinking at a crappy sports bar all night then shooting up heroin because no guys would meet up with you, it's just kinda pathetic. But all these stories become romanticized in crazy documentaries and magazine features, with detailed timelines and all the extenuating circumstances culminating in their demise, in all actuality, most people that overdose, just had a pretty shitty night that ended tragically.

Similarly, sometimes people get mad and push someone. The normative response to getting pushed is to tell the person to fuck off and push them back. But sometimes people stumble backwards and fall down a flight of stairs, or they bump their head on the wall just right and now Yeardley Love is dead and her ex boyfriend who was probably upset at the concept of her fucking another guy is going to jail probably for the rest of his life. It's not that this behavior is acceptable, you should be held accountable for the drunken mistakes you make, I'm just saying it's a fucked up gray area we live in, mistakes happen, people die, the human body is fragile…just ask Amanda Knox.

I have to say, I fucking love everything about this case. Amanda Knox is a hot white rich girl who loved to rage and had an equally voracious appetite for dick. Like any other upper middle class 21 year old looking for a semester off, she studied abroad in Italy and that's where our story begins. Our story of course ends with the tragic death of Meredith Kercher, and Amanda Knox's conviction, successful appeal and nor re-conviction. The case has turned into an international shit show about the merits of Italian law, worldwide extradition treaties and how America should or should not protect its citizens.

On the world playing field here are the players:

Italy: (The scene of the crime) Largely insignificant on the worldwide playground. Doesn't really have a stable government half the time, chose the wrong side in two world wars, is pretty to visit, has a fucked up criminal justice process. Unfortunately a bunch of shady Albanians that fuck with America hide in Italy, so we are always trying to extradite people from there to come face trial here.

UK: (Country of origin of the victim) Our BFF internationally, once owned us, we fucked them up, and now like a son who kicks his abusive father's ass and then reconciles we left the past in the past and now have a pretty strong relationship. Gives us great television and Kiera Knightley. Probably won't make an international incident out of it.

USA: (Country of the accused/guilty/innocent) In charge of the world, does whatever the fuck it wants. Could set the precedent that Americans will be held accountable for their actions abroad; won't.

Here's the thing, Italy knows that the U.S. has been policing the world, aiding Italy on a multitude of fronts, providing relief efforts and is generally looking out for the greater good and to seek an extradition on this case would really fuck with some political tension. I'm fairly certain that Italy is just going to say Amanda Knox is guilty of murder, if she ever steps foot outside Seattle she is FUCKED. It might not make the victim's family happy, but that's just the way it's going to be, because as stated above, the world is a fucked up gray area that we live in.

But what about the juicy middle, what happened to Amanda Knox that caused the death of Meredith Kercher? Well there was never a real motive presented. At the last minute, the prosecution said that Knox was a drug addicted booze hound who would bring home a random dude every knight and loudly fuck the shit out of him, Kercher would bitch about this in the morning. Everyone kind of agreed that one does not behave as an inconsiderate roommate and then murder the person that complains about said inconsiderate behavior. Especially when it is for a finite amount of time, study abroad programs end, and then everyone goes home.

The theory that was presented and abandoned early was that the death was some sort of drug addled psycho sexual fantasy gone awry. A violent 3some that you would see depicted at 4 in the morning on Cinemax. Some people choke each other out during sex, it is a thing. Not just a gag in Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Teenagers choke each other out in basements in high school because its supposed to be a weird high, every year hundreds of people accidentally hang themselves during autoerotic asphyxiation.

But, it's a bit of a fucked up uncomfortable theory, so it was quickly abandoned. I don't know what happened in that bedroom, but I'm sure it was some sort of fucked up accident fueled by a lot of controlled substances and a string of bad decisions…

Then comes the cover up.

It makes you wonder, what would happen if when someone accidentally dies everyone just copped to it, would there be these long drawn out investigations or would it be called a sad accident. But when people are doing something wrong and someone dies, panic sets in, and when panic sets in a whole NEW string of increasingly bad decisions starts.

Quick, what would you do if you gave a girl molly tonight and she overdosed and died. If you're a normal person you would go to the police and tell them the truth and it would be horrible.

But your life as you know it would be over. You know that right?

I mean the victims life is ACTUALLY over, but your life would be pretty much ruined, things could never be the way they were, because of a freak accident. But people that think they have an outside shot of a way out, and are in a panic, will take that way out.

People that kill a bunch of kids in a DUI accident at .09 are not inherently monsters, they're just people that made bad decisions and had some bad luck.

If you think about it, we're all ticking grenades, every time you make a bad choice and get away with it it's a backwards positive reinforcement that there are no consequences for your choices…but when you constantly play with fire, sooner or later you're going to get burned.

So what bad decisions did Amanda Knox make that brought her here:
First of all, never start dating a foreigner abroad. It leads to nothing but trouble, and AIDS. People that go abroad, try not to immerse yourself too much in the culture, find a nice bro from a large state school that looks like he's had all his shots. Bro boyfriend would have steered you to the nearest club where a 4th tier rapper from the 90's was playing, not to go murder fuck your roommate.

Second, that new hair cut. I will say it now…no female in the history of the human race has ever improved their appearance with the chop. It looks horrifying. Jennifer Lawrence, Anne Hathaway…WHAT THE FUCK? You aren't going to make it look cool. No one will ever make short hair on females cool. Now I get it…4 days ago I had long hair. And it was annoying, it would take long to dry, I would have to do something to it in the morning if I showered in order not to look retarded…so I buzzed it off, because LOW MAINTENANCE. Then something crazy happened. A chick that I had seen a couple days before started blowing me up because she badly wanted to hook up. Like REALLY REALLY wanted it and then she saw me with the short hair and was like… "meh, why did you cut your hair? Gotta go byeeeeee."

So ladies, it goes both ways, I get it. Convenience > sexiness I'm also guilty of choosing unwisely.

No one will really ever know what happened in this case or a billion others like it, because unfortunately the victim is not here to tell the truth. Legal debates will continue about it for centuries but get pretty much nowhere. But if you try to be a good person and limit your mistakes you will have a much better chance of living to 40 without a felony conviction. So why doesn't everyone just go ahead and stay in and read a book tonight? K?

If you need me I'll be at Dada Life, rolling my balls off.

Friday, January 24, 2014

7 things I discovered rewatching the OC season 1

 I remember when Thursdays used to mean I was going to black the fuck out with upper middle class people that shared my ideals and values. Those values were expensive clothing, a physically fit appearance and non-committal drunken sex with people within the circle. There were no worries about STD's or pregnancies because "hey, scabies and hepatitis C don't vacation in Carmel" and everyone's parents put them on a steady regiment of birth control at the age of 16.

Unfortunately, gone are the hairy bears, gone is the playground afforded to me by my Greek System bubble...the worst part of graduating could arguably be the loss of a social eco-system in which the overbearing bro archtype is king. Now I live in a sess pool of liberalism that makes my head hurt, I can't even go to Deadspin anymore because of shit like this...

Bush is Back and no, not that Bush. If W were in power my company would still be forced to give me health insurance. But mere hours after I wrote an entire blog comparing pubic trimming to laziness, American Apparel has to go out and start the trend that waxing is no longer the preferred look? "I don't want my partner to look like a pre-pubescent girl!" Oh what a hot feminist take! Well I don't like my partner looking like a grizzly bear, and I also don't think a pro-fat message should be preached because obese people die earlier but I guess I'm just a relic of the past at this point, fuck me.

Also what the fuck is all the outrage about Justin Bieber I understand he is a colossal douchebag and everything, but SPARE ME the pictures of horrifically disfigured DUI victims. He was fucking .04. Every single one of you drives at .04, your parents drive at .04, even if you don't drink, you've sucked down enough Listerine to hit .04. He was driving 55 down a closed down street in Miami with another douchebag, but they weren't endangering anyone's life. #deportbieber how about we deport the illegals that don't pay taxes. Again, what an insensitive thing of me to say.

So what are we? A society of acceptance or do we want to have a lynching of a Canadian pop icon because we're jealous that we can't be the ones having all the fun. (Read that, it's an excellent PGP article)

I just can't take it anymore. I don't live in a world of like minded frat guys and sorostitutes (that wouldn't dare sport bush) anymore. I wish that island existed, but it doesn't.

We live in a fucked up world where Grantland writer's basically get accused of murder for outing transexual con-artists. When did everyone have to start forming and sharing their opinion on everything (yes I have an opinion but this is my blog...I go to deadspin and Grantland for sports and dick jokes) sometimes the real world is annoying and I had to escape just for an afternoon to my 2nd favorite place in the whole wide world...

Orange County.

Oh no, I didn't drive the 40 miles down the PCH to Newport Beach. I took it one step further. Over 48 hours I rewatched the entire first season of The OC. To say the least, it was magical. No arguments about gay marriage or marijuana legalization, no feminist opinion columns, just attractive people and simple plot lines.

For those of you who don't remember, or didn't watch to begin with, the OC really caught lightning in a bottle. For 27 hours (27 episodes season 1) the melodrama of a kid from the other side of the tracks moving to a rich town captivated a large portion of generation Y. I don't know if it was the likable actors, the sharp writing of Josh Schwartz and Stephanie Savage or if it was just the perfect teen soap for a lost generation of millenials in the mid oughts. That said, 10 years later the show still holds up as well as it did in 2003. In fact, if anything, going back to rewatch it showed me how far superior it was to Schwartz's major primetime follow up, Gossip Girl. (And this is not my west coast bias, OC > GG is fact not opinion.)

Please, cue the Phantom Planet and allow me to take a trip down memory lane and point out 7 things that I rediscovered from watching the single greatest season of television ever produced.

1. Oliver is the worst fucking character of all time.
I am far from the first person to make this statement, I think it's pretty much universally accepted.
This character gave me a fucking migraine, every time he would appear on screen I would go into panic attacks. Never have I wanted to jump through the television and murder a character more.
Think about the worst things ever done on a TV show. A few of the Todd murders from Breaking Bad were pretty rough, Wallace getting killed was pretty demoralizing in The Wire, but STILL...nothing compares to Oliver's rat faced weaselness.

Upon doing some further research, Taylor Handley's career hasn't done that well either. He has consistently booked a few guest starring roles on network tv in the years since, and he even booked a gig as a regular on the ill-fated CBS show 'Vegas.' But that show didn't see a second season and many of the other shows he has touched have turned to shit because Hollywood executives and the American public can't get over the fact that this motherfucker is Oliver and he is AWFUL.

2. Summer was really a massive cunt.
Rachel Bilson was initially only a guest star with a limited story arc (she didn't become a regular until either season 2 or late in season 1) as I imagine the scope of the series was originally going to be much smaller: following Ryan on his journey from Chino to Newport under the supervision of the affable Cohen clan. (His nemesis, Chris Carmack DID receive star billing) However, my assumption is that when the world fell in love with Seth Cohen, producers decided he needed more screen time and story lines thus the Summer vs. Anna triangle.

The problem was, producers had painted themselves into a corner by making Summer the most unlikable bitch on the tv show. She was basically the female version of Luke. She was a drunk, a slut and consistently would shit all over Seth and Ryan both. Anna was amazing, she was a dream girl, fun, quirky like a Zooey Deschanel that doesn't suck (think Elf instead of New Girl) The story dragged for almost all of season 1, but when the writers finally had to make a choice they went Summer, presumably because Rachel Bilson was more classically beautiful than Samaire Armstrong? Summer would grow to become a great character later in the show's run, so much so that you forget how awful she was initially.

3. Stefan Salvatore is the punk that shot Luke
Clearly the OC had a much larger following than the Vampire Diaries, but you can imagine my delight when I found out that Paul Wesley is the bartender at The Crab Shack who hails from the same type of rough neighborhood as Ryan. After he and Ryan (and Seth) strike up a relationship, Wesley's character convinces Seth to take him to a Newport party. You may remember early in the season Ryan and Marissa swimming on some sort of quasi-date. Seth interrupts because Paul Wesley pulls a gun and is about to shoot everyone. Luke gets shot in the arm, Wesley gets arrested BUT when Marissa visits Luke in the hospital they get back together and then they FUCK. (She breaks up with him after he is caught cheating 2 episodes later but god dammit that virginity should have been Ryan's) Fun note: Paul Wesley was still going by his Jewish sounding Polish name at the time, Paul Wasilewski.

4. The first season was picked up for a back order...twice
Here is a little inside baseball for you. Most first season shows are given an initial order of 12 episodes (plus the pilot for 13) if about halfway through the season things are going well, the network will order an additional 9 episodes, bringing the total season to 22. The OC had an initial order of 16, then was picked up for a back 6 (bringing the total to 22, a full season) but with room on the schedule and interest from all parties the season was extended AGAIN by 5 more episodes. So if it seems like the first season of the OC went on forever, it's because it kinda did. The first season spanned almost an entire year, and was 5 hours longer than most hour long drama series.

5. The Non-Newportcentric episodes were AT BEST tolerable
When the show was at it's best, it was exploring the metaphorical impact of a fish out of water. Ryan, going from the ghetto to the richest of the rich. I think in the first season, writers thought that another black tie party, Cotillion, yacht party would bore the audience. Once every 6 episodes or so, the action was taken out of Newport. And while episodes in Vegas, LA and Tijuana were pretty great...any episode that explored Ryan's past was a fucking train wreck. First you have the aforementioned ghetto coworker who shot someone and got Ryan in trouble, then there was the whole Trey thing (DIFFERENT actor than Logan Marshall Green aka Trey season 2/guy who bangs Lisbeth Salander in Prometheus) where Ryan goes back to Chino, introducing us to Theresa UGHHHHHHHHHH. She was the fucking worst, why can't she make like a good little hoodrat and get killed by a stray bullet. Anyway, I understand that in a 'drama' things can't just be going swell for all of our favorite characters the whole time, but anything that ever got in between Ryan and Marissa was enough to drive me to murder.

I was never as connected to the whole Seth/Summer thing (maybe it was lingering feelings for Anna) but you try to separate Ryan Atwood and Marissa Cooper we have a problem. (I was even pissed at Olivia Wilde for muching her box in season 2)

When you look back at much of the rest of the series run betwixt Ryan and Marissa, they were rarely together, in fact other than a solid 5 episode run in the middle of the first season, it was really all downhill from the time they met (fucking Volchek and Chris Pratt)

6. Sandy and Kiersten Cohen, the couple that came SO CLOSE to adultery.
For whatever reason, I had always kind of thought that the will they/won't they took place entirely in season 2. Sandy with his client and Kiersten with her magazine editor. That was wrong. They are on the verge of throwing it all away by basically the 3rd episode. Tate Donovan is hot and heavy for his high school girlfriend, even attempting to kiss her at some point. On the flip side, Sandy Cohen is relentlessly pursued by a hiring partner at his law firm.

Sandy Cohen is the best tv dad of all time. He is fucking amazing in almost every aspect. He surfed every day before work, he stood by Ryan always and he gave that kind of dopey advice with just the amount of embarrassing dad humor. Meanwhile Kiersten was about as cool as a Real Housewife of the OC can get. For this reason, had either of them actually ever cheated I would have lost all faith in the institution of marriage. Their marriage as a storyline pretty much always went in 5 episode arcs where they would reach their breaking point, only for Kiersten to realize at the last possible moment, how amazing Sandy Cohen is.

7. It's probably the last big 4 network teen drama we will ever give a shit about
Gossip Girl got close to cultural relevance on the CW a few years ago, but the innocence of the mid 2000's is gone. It's the last generation that didn't grow up with sexting on iPhones and accessible molly. This was a show about teens drinking, making some bad decisions with a little bit of cocaine and some prescription pills. That can't be recaptured. With an ever evolving reliance on technology, plotlines would now revolve around Luke leaking a screenshotted snap of Marisa's tits, or Melinda Clarke running a background check on Ryan using her iPad. It's just over.

The consumption would be different too. I used to go to a friend's house (she was a girl!) every Thursday night to watch the show (on a school night!) Now people would watch in in bed on Hulu, or bingewatch a season on NetFlix, alas destroying some of the magic of watching it live with a big group. I remember senior year spending all day Wednesday (or Thursday or Friday, it moved around a lot) talking about the previous night's episode.

The major networks don't even target teen dramas anymore, the CW has a monopoly on it (and a little on ABC Family) and even those shows are skewing younger and more female more every year.

Maybe it's for the best that we just remember Newport Beach as a picturesque dreamworld that we visited once a week, once upon a time. (I've been to the real Newport Beach, it's pretty rad but not much like what was seen on the was primarily shot in Malibu and the South Bay)

And if you're ever having a rough hangover day, every episode is available on iTunes for the reasonable price of 2 bucks a pop. (It's the best investment you'll ever make) In retrospect it was a great show, and a reminder that the coming of age tale is an American Tradition like no other.

Buried somewhere deep in my childhood home is a lime green Ipod mini that probably still has every OC soundtrack on it. (My GOD, how did we not touch on the MUSIC?!?!?! Talk about cultural phenomenon) I may need to dig that up next time I go home so I can throw on some Ronney and remember exactly what it feels like to be 17 again.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

The Story

I don't really keep my room particularly clean. It's not that I prefer a messy room, I actually really enjoy it when it's immaculate. However, slowly but surely I trash it again and then, I find one of a billion things better to do than clean my room. In fact, I don't usually clean it unless I have a Saturday afternoon that I'm not hungover nor do I have a day drinking obligation. This occurs once every three-ish weeks. I take an adderall, blast musicals, and clean my horrible room. I suppose you could say the state of my room is a bit like a lunar cycle. However full the moon is, is a reflection of how dirty my room is.

This of course goes out the window if I think there is a greater than 20% chance I'm going to have sex with someone I want to impress that particular evening. In that case, I will go out of my way to clean my room before I go out so on the off chance than I convert, it will appear as that I live like a normal human being.

However, that is not to say I don't go out sometimes with a thrashed room and through some act of wizardry manage to convince someone to sleep with me. It happens on occasion. Of course I know in the back of my mind that it's going to be awkward when she has to ford a river of crusty gym socks, and I try my best to push for the away game. But often times, that isn't possible and I'm too drunk to give a shit. So we go back to my horrible room, I half heartedly apologize while I'm ripping her clothes off, and then I feel a deep shame in the morning while I'm diving through landfills of laundry in search of a black bra.

I assume this is the feeling that girls get when they realize they haven't shaved in a few days.

I imagine it isn't necessarily a pleasant experience, going to the waxer, or going through the process of self shaving in the bath tub. It's probably a whole thing that takes a long time, and quite frankly, you have better shit to do. Hair removal has a lot in common with cleaning one's room as it is put off until the problem has gotten out of control, or the need to impress someone else is imminent. But again sometimes we forget, or unexpected things just happen. That's life.

Or sometimes you just don't give a fuck about the other person so you have sex with them in a dirty room, with an unkempt nether region. I think we've all been in these scenarios in one capacity or another so it's time to move on. When the dust clears the next day, it's just a story.

The story...
That's why we do everything right?

I was thinking today about all the reasons in the world that one could give for going out to a bar on a Friday night, and I think it boils down to roughly 2 reasons.

1. You are an alcoholic and you are out of booze at home. The bar is closer to you than the nearest liquor store.

I think the term "alcoholic" is thrown around a little too liberally. A true drunk, gets fucked up just because. They aren't doing it so they can do better with chicks, so they can become a maniac on the dance floor, so they can last 20 minutes in the sack instead of 5...they do it because they crave the chemical reaction that booze affords them. A real drunk would probably prefer to do this in the privacy of their own home (or street corner) but if you run out, and the liquor store is closed for some reason but the bar is open, this is one reason for going to a bar.

2. All other people are going out for the story.

Arguments a plenty will ensue.

Naw bro, I go out to get LAID!

Well that's fair. I assume many people have that as a goal of theirs when they ascend upon the town.

But do you really go out for the 10-15 second period in which you pathetically orgasm after a drunken romp with a stranger? Or is it also about recounting with your buddies the next day the pathetic one liner that got her to agree to come home with you. The fact that you guys found her phone in a pile of vomit in the morning, the fact that you ran up a 300 dollar tab on some OTHER dude's credit card because the bartender thought you said DON CLARK not JOHN CLARK.

The point is, more often than not the reason we do whatever it is we do is because we are creating memories. Life essentially breaks down to creating and recounting memories.

One of the most narcissistic cliches is "omg, our life could be a tv show" but the truth is, it could. Your life is a coming of age story, and the peaks and valleys across the way and how you react are what define you.

My argument is not that going out drinking will lead to crazy and exciting things happening in your life that you will always look fondly back on. You could get drunk, hop in a car and kill yourself, I'm just saying that most of us are generally seeking the same thing.

I go out a lot. And I used to think, maybe it was a little too much. Maybe there are better things to do with your hard earned money than piss it away on overpriced drinks while chasing girls. But you never know when you're going to meet your future partner (you never want to meet your future mate at a bar? Go fuck yourself, I'm sure just as many successful marriages started with a drunken blow job than an internet date on Christian Mingle*) or even just an epic night out with a friend who could get sick or move away. I spend hours recounting good times with friends, it's how I personally get through some of the shitty times.

*This is probably not true

One should try to maintain balance with a career they enjoy and some hobbies that don't require 48 hours of recovery time, but you're an adult and you should be able to do whatever the fuck you want. I know lots of people that are doing no drink January and that is fucking awesome for them. I am genuinely proud of them because that makes me happy. Personally, what made me happy last weekend was blacking out, trying to get random chick's numbers all Friday night and watching the entire first season of the OC Saturday and Sunday while I recovered. I didn't make a New Year's resolution because I think they're fucking retarded. I do exactly what I want and I think there is something poetic to that.

And I think if that floats your boat, you should do it too! Maybe I'll write an autobiography some day, maybe you will too. And even if you don't you're still metaphorically writing your own story. Whether that story involved messy rooms or pubic hair or just creating a few good memories with some good company. Look, maybe as a writer I value the art of storytelling, more than others, maybe some would argue that only people that are unhappy focus on their past. But I don't see the two as mutually exclusive, in fact here is some future oriented thinking, this weekend I don't know what I'm going to do, but I'm probably going to fill out a few chapters.

Keep it real, y'all.

Monday, January 20, 2014

What the Buzzfeed article really says about you

Recently, the blog has come under criticism and I want to address that really quick. I realize that the content I put on here is pretty horrible. It's offensive, it demeans everyone and it makes me out to be a pretty terrible person. Now despite the fact that I am pursuing a career as a comedy writer and that I hide behind the veil of fiction and a character I have to acknowledge the fact that these words can translate into real hurt.

That said, no one is putting a gun to your head to read this, there is a fucking warning that you have to click through to get here. If this site offends you, go read some post feminism bullshit on Jezebel, you may feel safer there. If my Facebook offends you, there is something that I have heard of that some Ex-girlfriends do...ah yes, the passive aggressive unfriending. I promise, I won't be bothered. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a real writer, I'm not spreading a web of hate around the world, I'm expressing a few random over the top thoughts that give a few of my friends a good laugh.

We've gotten to the point in our lives that it's too late to apologize for anything. You're not always going to gel with the people you did once upon a time, at this point move on...if you don't like me or my writing then fuck you, see you never. Avoid the Venice neighborhood of Los Angeles and you can probably avoid ever seeing or hearing from me again. I'm not a bad guy, I just give very few fucks about certain things that other people value. If some day I become a real writer and this blog surfaces I'll tell everyone I was a struggling comedian looking to make a splash, and that shit gets forgiven in LA because "ART" or some bullshit like that. And for those of you who think I possess talent but I'm throwing it away writing vile filth, I appreciate the concern and I promise I'm writing some other stuff too, it's just more fun to play the villain at the moment.


Now, onto the vile and filth.

You may have seen a Buzzfeed article floating around in the last 24 hours that gives you a very short questionaire that tells you where you should live. This has become very popular for several reasons.

1. Most people are pretty miserable with their current life and fantasize about moving somewhere else and everything being better.

2. They believe that an exotic location will provide them validation that they must too be an interesting person, which is why their personality seemingly syncs to a cool world city, even though there is a finite list of cities and no one will be doomed to Lincoln, Nebraska.

3. Fuck it, it's only like 6 questions and everyone else is doing it, I can't wait to find out I belong in Paris and post it for all my besties!!!!!

So before I start shitting all over some really interesting world cities, let's go through the actual test question by question and get into some deep analysis on why preferring your Beyonce vagina pre birth lands you somewhere in the far east.

Question 1.
How do you take your coffee?

To be honest, I could probably go 5,000 words on each individual question and what the answer says about you as a person. Instead, I'll just give you my answer and some quick thoughts on how I arrived there.

Your choices are:
Local/Organic, by the pot, cappuccino extra foam, pour over, don't drink, Iced, espresso, black or skinny vanilla latte

My choice was: By the pot. Now to be honest, my pretentious Starbucks order is usually the seasonal latte. Pumpkin Spice, Gingerbread, Cinnamon Dulce or the Chestnut Praline if I'm lucky enough to be in a test market. However, after my PSL/GBL/CDL/CPL I have 12 to 15 cups of shitty black coffee at work, because I cannot get through a single day without a minimum of 20 mg of Adderall and 10000 mg of caffeine. No I do not have trouble sleeping, I take a large dose of NyQuil daily at 10pm.

Impact: One would assume this question is pure Portland bait, but I know of several people who claimed "no coffee" and still got shafted in the land of rain and vampires. None of these answers make you a total ass hat, except maybe local/organic. SVL implies you are a cute girl watching her weight, which I endorse. All the other answers are fairly legit, except I don't really know what the fuck pour over means, is that some type of French press bullshit? Whatever, however you take your coffee, I shan't judge. Mornings suck, coffee (and getting up every 5 minutes to refill and/or pee) make them tolerable.

Question 2.
What's your jam?

This was a flawed question because it offered a limited selection of genres, you basically had 6 pop songs (Ke$ha, Beyonce, JT, Lorde, Elle, Shakira) a dubstep (Skrillex) a classic rock (GnR) and some hipster bullshit indie rock (Bon Iver)

My choice was: Bangarang. All of the pop songs are fine and I came dangerously close to picking "Timber" but due to the involvement of Pitbull and the fact that there are pictures of fat Ke$ha covered in semen floating around the internet, I just couldn't pull the trigger. Sweet Child O Mine is a jam too, but at the time, rolling at Coachella sounded better than chugging beer at the Viper Room.

Impact: Again, I can't even begin to decipher how this could label you. Leaning electronic would likely lead to a party culture (LA, NY, Rio, Spain. Cape Town) and I suppose leaning indie would ingratiate you to a more hipster locale, but again I know a billion people that were damned to Portland, and I am yet to meet someone that chose Bon Iver as their "jam."

Question 3.
What could you eat forever?

This question becomes a little more transparent as a lot of these answers lend directly to one culture or another.

My choice was: Steak and potatoes, no question.

Impact: Had you gone chocolate that will probably push you more toward central Europe. Pizza, Italy (or NY) Curry = India, Sushi almost definitely Tokyo and then there were a couple of latin food options. Fortunately for me, Cedar Rapids, Iowa was not a possible destination so I believe this question likely had little impact on me, despite being the answer I was most passionate about. Question though, who the fuck just LOVES bread...and are there really people that prefer chicken to steak?

Question 4.
Pick a hashtag.

This was clearly the most pathetic question on the test. Trying to capitalize on social media culture, we were given 9 shitty hashtags to pick from, all incredibly high on the douchometer.

My choice: Again, impossible to avoid douchiness on this one, but I went with sorryimnotsorry because it's fairly close to "sorry for partying" which was my favorite thing to say senior year of college.

Impact: I don't know what YAASSS means, is it supposed to be like "Your ass?" Anyway most of these are celebratory hashtags that you would expect to accompany Bobby Bottleservice on Insta. Blessed is most certainly an African American athlete, Foodporn is foodies and no filter is likely an aspiring photog. Again the ironic yolo pushes you toward hipsterville. I'm guessing that most of the party hash tags pushed you toward a nightlife epicenter, while the foodporn leaned Europe and the Blessed leaned to a culture that takes religion a little more seriously.

Question 5.
Pick a Beyonce.

Ok maybe THIS is the most pathetic question on the test. Personally I think Beyonce is fine. She is an attractive female with catchy songs and she's beautiful, but I don't find her to have the cultural impact of say the first season of the OC. Imagine if this question was "Which OC season 1 character are you" How much better would that have been? #TeamSandy.

My choice: Crazy in Love Beyonce. She was 22, hot as fuck and the song had Jay Z (I was in high school and still thought I was black) However, if Halo Beyonce or Irreplaceable Beyonce were choices I would have gone that way. Basically I like my Beyonce Post Destiny's Child, Pre Blue Ivy.

Impact: I have no fucking clue, there was a vegan Beyonce answer, that probably doomed you to living in a sober-living Co-op in Echo Park.

Question 6.
Pick your bucket list vacation.

I'm pretty sure this question sealed my fate as I had pretty much done everything in question or some form of it. (I've not been to Bali, but I imagine all island vacations are fairly similar)

My choice: Safari. I have not been on a safari, nor have I been to Africa. I'm not sure it's the once vacation I would choose if given the opportunity to go tomorrow, but I would like to go before I die. Of all the things on the list that I have already done, the one I would most like to do again is backpack Europe, skydiving was terrifying.

Impact: Probably pretty substantial. All of these amazing vacations take place somewhere exotic. I landed in Africa after claiming I wanted to go on a safari. Lots of people that put Coachella (LA), Hamptons(NY) or roadtrip probably end up domestic and I'm guessing the Euro options push you in that direction.

Question 7.
Pick your poison.

I read on the buzz feed comments section a lot of complaints about the lack of option for non-drinkers. If you don't drink, you don't deserve to fantasize about what life would be like in a different more interesting location. Maybe you should start, your life could drastically improve.

My choice: I think I went craft beer, probably my most pretentious choice of the whole survey. A few years ago I would've gone shots! You really can't go wrong with this one though as there is a time for all of these in our lives. Sometimes you crave an old fashioned (whiskey) mojitos are great on island vacations, red wine for dinner parties, GnT and Vodka soda are both perfectly acceptable go to cocktails and I suppose if you are going out for sushi white wine plays.

Impact: At this point the formula is pretty obvious. There are questions that plot you based on a general location, and questions that map how much you like to party. At the end these 2 raw scores are compounded to find the city that is the closest fit. This spectrum probably went shots on the Barcelona end to craft beer in Portland (lucky me!) with red wine landing you somewhere in the middle which is probably a more conservative European city.

Question 8.
What do you look for in a mate?

Sadly "permission to do cocaine off of their private parts" was removed at the last minute, but the answers weren't too tough to see through here.

My choice: Was spontaneity. A rather random answer, I really do value this a lot. I want to be able to ask a girl if she wants to drive down to Tijuana just for the hell of it on a Wednesday and have her dive in head first. I also seek this in friends a lot of the time. Life is too short not to say fuck it and fly to Vegas once in a while.

Impact: Guessing that this was gauging again how adventurous you are. Fashion/money would push you more toward a NYC/Paris/London while dancing/sexy are the shallow answers that would land you in a party town. Smart/humor/witty were likely interpreted as the hipster answer that landed you on the set of a Fred Armisen sketch show, Spontaneity was likely a wild card.

Question 9. (Last one!!!!)
How do you exercise?

Another lifestyle question. Do you get in touch with your inner zen through bikram yoga or do you get down with another type of sweat via MDMA consumption?

My answer: I burn calories by partying. Ya, I know...I'm a tool, but there was no box for "I spend 30 minutes at the gym doing glam muscles"

Impact: All of these answers were pretty whack. If you said your exercise is sex, I hate you. Same with shopping (we get it, you really want Paris) In fact the only people I respect are the extreme sporters and the hikers. If you don't exercise or "just stay skinny naturally" go fuck yourself.


From my very hasty research, these were the potential outcomes:
-Capetown, South Africa
-Tokyo, Japan
-New York, NY
-Rio De Janeiro, Brazil
-London, UK
-Paris, France
-Los Angeles, CA
-Portland, OR
-Barcelona, Spain

I would imagine that's the comprehensive list, 9 questions, with 9 potential answers yielding 9 outcomes. Logic would be with me, if I missed one, please let me know,

So let's start with me.

Capetown, RSA

What does this say about you?
I'll be honest, I don't know shit about South Africa. It kinda looks like the Rio of Africa. I've heard there is some bad gang violence and I would imagine that there are some unresolved racial tensions, you can actually visit the island prison that held Mandela for all those years. That said, it's got a beach, it's warm and Dave Matthews is from there. So it sounds vaguely similar to Venice, I'm sure I would love it. Sample things to do include getting hammered on the beach, climbing mountains with stunning ocean views. It's basically just like Temescal except the white people have funny accents. The people that landed in Capetown were likely all over the board with their answers. They love to party, but life is more about the adventure for them. These people want to go on shoot the shit out of African rhinos on an illegal poaching safari, but probably won't have very good aim because they've been shotgunning Glenhoffs all day (did a quick Google search, turns out South Africa is known for its microbrews! Thumbs up!)

Tokyo, Japan

What does this say about you?

All the people I know that are obsessed with eastern culture are weird as fuck, but at the same time pretty cool. I'm still amazed that barely 50 years after we decimated a country with 2 atomic bombs they have basically gotten over it. You can just study abroad in Japan if you want, no problem. In fact, the Japanese people probably won't give you any shit at all unless you are making a documentary about their dolphin hunting practices. I choose to believe that both Karate Kid sequels and Fast 3: Tokyo Drift are bullshit for 2 reasons. 1. I find Asians to be the least scary minority. 2. Picking on foreigners would seem to be a shameful act and since we know all Japanese people are samurai, this would cause them to stab themselves in the stomach. If you got Tokyo, I'm assuming you really love sushi, you're probably a bit off personality wise, but enjoy learning, studying and discovering new things. You have an introverted intensity about you, and your dream car growing up was a Mitsubishi Spyder. Sick ride brah! Make sure to get that pink underflow!

New York, NY

What does this say about you?

This is the first of the destinations that I think people are really trying for. Let me say 2 things about that. First of all, I don't fucking get the whole New York thing. It's not awful, in fact I applaud the fact that the girls are seriously DTF and 12 hour benders at Bro J's are about the greatest thing in the world. It's a city that embraces debauchery, staying out all night and never growing up, you would think it would be my fantasy, but for reasons unknown, I'm just not into it. Number 2, if you game a test just so it can validate that you belong in NYC you're fucking pathetic. I realize that there are certain barriers to entry to moving certain places in the world, but anyone can load up their station wagon and drive to Brooklyn where they will overpay for a roach invested janitor's closet, but hey, it's 'the city." New York people probably picked a mixture of fashion nightlife and food. (I'm not certain how this varies from any of the other cosmopolitan world cities, perhaps cocktails instead of wine?) I will say this about New York: if you live there, mad respect. It is a fucking struggle, you better be going for it in some bad ass industry or you have successfully conned your parents into letting you live the SATC lifestyle. You're staying young, and suffering through winters because 'hey SantaCon is legit, and those Manhattan summers, my GOD. Have you been to a fleet week party? Fuck ya, I go out for $20 cocktails on Tuesday nights, and I stay up all night Saturday and go straight to brunch and sometimes I do cocaine on Monday mornings before work because snorting concerta just doesn't cut it sometimes.

Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

What does this say about you?

Dude, I don't even know what the fuck to think about Rio. Is it this beach paradise that their tourism board is pumping in advance of the World Cup and Olympics or is it the City of God? The slums of Rio have become more feared than the hardest ghettos in America's shittiest cities. The Prostitutes give blow jobs to corrupt cops in exchange for English lessons...why? Because they want to be able to succinctly up charge visiting Americans who want to put it in their ass come 2016. I have to admit, I appreciate the entrepreneurial spirit. But what does Rio say about you? I think it's like the next party destination for those that are over Europe. Most of the professional partiers I know head to South America after they have conquered Europe. It's also like the hip spot to go. "Oh you went to Ibiza? I went to Lollapalooza Chile, hiked the Andes and then lived with an Incan tribe for 2 months." It takes a free spirit to travel down to an emerging economy with high crime (Brazil, Russia, India, China called BRICs are supposedly the superpowers of the future) but hey the jungle sounds fun and where else are you going to use that Portuguese you learned from your gardner growing up?

London, UK

What does this say about you?

London is one of the few places on this list that I could see myself living, like forever. Everywhere else would be fun to visit for 2 weeks, but after a while I need some English speaking folk from western culture with whom I can communicate. They have excellent culture, history and sport but god dammit do I hate the rain, and oh by the way, if you thought New York was expensive? Well you can choke on a dick while you do that dollar to pound conversion because the ass raping the exchange rate gives you won't be much more comfortable. London is like the European New York. If your choices indicated that large city life is important to you but, you know outside of the states, this is probably where you ended up. Equal parts nightlife, fashion and a killer music scene, the majority of the people that ended up here probably weren't throwing down a hashtag food porn. Maybe the American sentiment is too fucking soft for you, 'those damn yanks should quit their bitching about political correctness, we say cunt on the BBC" I agree guys, I agree. People in London will drown pints all night, smoke a pack of cigarettes and refuse to apologize, I'm almost a little upset this isn't where I landed.

Paris, France

What does this say about you?

The second on the list of places that you could end up if you wanted to. I can just see some pathetic Fashion Merchandising major from Akron, indicating her love of red wine, fashion and a mate who is sophisticated! OMG I KNEW IT I KNEW IT!!! I BELONG IN PARIS! Facebook share! Look at meeeeeeI got Pareeeeee! Ok, who am I to rain on someone's parade. If you have never left the country but your dream is to someday travel to Paris and fall in love I won't stop you. I mean I saw Before Sunset (like back in 2004 you guys, before it was the cool thing to do) I know how awesome it looks. And I mean, Midnight in Paris? Yes. But that's the thing about Paris, it's a lot like the movie Elysium, the idea is amazing, the execution Paris isn't some crazy romantic city full of possibilities. You have a nice wine picnic in a park by the Eiffel tower, you check out that art museum and that's about it. Sure it has great fashion, a culture of drinking, good food and just kind of watching the world go by, but so does every major city if you want it to. Add Paris to the list of cities I just don't really understand. The people are dick heads (and despise you) and there just isn't a whole lot going on. The Moulin Rouge is like a shitty whore house in the ghetto, you're only a 2 hour train ride to the French Riviera which is the greatest place in the world. Here's what you do, if you ever find yourself in Paris, train it down to Nice, hop the 35 minute train to Monte Carlo and get lost there. If you're going to drift through life doing nothing, Monaco is a much better place to do it.

Los Angeles, CA

What does this say about you?

LA is like the anti-city. It's a collection of wildly diverse neighborhoods that don't really fit together at all. The wealthiest people in the city and the poorest live within just a couple miles of each other and have nothing in common. I live in Venice, but have friends that live in West Hollywood that refuse to visit. That said, because of it's diversity it has a little bit of everything for everyone. What do you look for in a home? Tight knit community, good old fashioned morals and values? This is not the place for you. Do you want to live in a town that values creativity and never be cold again, this is it. People often say that the worst part about LA is the people and the smog, but if you're surfing, hiking and checking out the explosive music and film scene you kind of accept the trade off. It's a city full of selfish people but that can also mean intense focus on attaining one's dreams. You like food, fashion, partying and the lingering idea that any night could be the craziest of your life, LA is a town for you. You like relaxing by the beach all day and watching 365 sunsets a year, LA is a town for you. The whole city is like a choose your own adventure novel, the city has less of a personality than others, instead it is a land that is what you make it.

Portland, OR

What does this say about you?

OK, I'm not going to shit on Portland too hard, I just think it's so funny how inexplicably SO many people ended up here. It's clearly the least exotic/desirable place on the list. I mean it's a city known for the lumber industry. (Do you think that 'Timber' led here???) But let's be honest, Portland is a billion times better than most US cities, I mean it's better than Cleveland right? U of Oregon is a big party school right? Good skiing up in the Pacific Northwest? The thing that kills me is how much Portland embraces the hipster culture. I feel like the city is one giant walking stereotype. Beards, organic coffees, wool plaid shirts and a resurgence of American Folk music. (Inside Llewyn Davis is crushing it in this market) The thing is, when I think of Portland I think of Fred Armisen, and when I think of Fred Armisen I just think of someone who isn't funny. He was fucking Peggy (Elizabeth Moss) and then she broke up with him saying 'the most successful character he ever pulled off was convincing the world that he was a normal person.' That's how I feel about Portland, it's a cloudy place with lots of pine trees. You know what show takes place up there? Grimm and The Killing. I bet there really ARE monsters living in those woods. Both of those shows just look depressing as fuck. Almost every city on the list is an AWESOME beach town or some metropolis infused with crazy culture and history. Portland is like overcast and 62, you're not totally bummed about it, it's just meh. But hey, I bet the fair trade tea section at their whole foods is off the hook.

Barcelona, Spain

What does this say about you?

Ok we get it. They pre game from 9pm-2am and then go out until 9 am. Then they sleep until 2pm, go to work for like an hour and then start drinking margaritas during siesta. Honestly, I don't understand how anything gets done in this city. They have been trying to secede from Spain for like a hundred years, and it took them like 2 centuries to build that stupid church because conceivably everyone was too hungover or busy partying. I really don't know what the fuck anyone in Barcelona does, because I was there for 96 hours and all I saw was drinking and all I felt was bass. I have a private theory that in 1992 everyone got super fucking rich during the olympics and invested in night clubs...then when all of the American trust fund kids came and spent every last dime of their parents money at Opium, Posha and Razzmatazz, they got rich again.

That or they make their money hosting the American kids, honestly how in the fuck did you all go abroad and stay with a madre, you realize if you got your own apartment you could fuck whoever you wanted without having to worry about it, right? Ya, if you got Barcelona, you like to party.

TL;DR these are 9 cities that we should probably all visit, they all have something exciting to offer, and I would urge more people to travel in general. It's a crazy and beautiful world out there, and I assure you that 50 years from now, you will value the 600 dollar plane ticket to Europe over the new Prada Bag you're eyeing.

Saturday, January 11, 2014

Single DRUNK in LA: Lesbians can't have sex and gryffindors are pussies

(I am hammered right now, I cannot be held responsible for these thoughts, unless they are awesome)
3 quick things...

1. Lesbians have a very liberal interpretation of sex. Now I will admit that every single one of my assumptions comes from watching episodes of Orange is the New Black between the hours of 2 and 4 am on week nights when I'm stressed out and down a bottle of 2 buck chuck.

That said...

There's a whole lot of "I fucked the shit out of you" nonsense thrown around with those inmates, and then we get a quick cutaway of a little cunnilingus in the shower or maybe some finger blasting in the chapel.

Lesbians of earth, I'm sorry...but that is not sex. You are merely playing with doubles and triples. And unfortunately, Craig Biggio did not make it into the hall of fame this year, so I'm going to take the controversial stance that you are all virgins. (unless you fucked some guy in high school to fit in, which, let's face it you all did)

The thing about hetero sex that makes it a tad more legit is the fact that it has to be earned. You have to jam a phallic object into a crevice until one or both (usually one) parties achieves orgasm. The phrase "fuck the shit" out of likely comes from an interracial sex fable in the 60's where a black fox literally made a white otter void her bowels with the sheer blunt force of the pounding. (This did not make the cut on Aesop's greatest hits) regardless, it is cheating for a girl to finger another girl and call it sex. It's akin to taking all of the PED's available in the steroid era in baseball, the white AND the clear. Wasn't that the whole idea? What once was a double, is now a home run. 

That is unless we want to have sexuality affirmative action, in which case every hand job and blow job I received in between 1999 and 2012 is effectively transferred into sex. This would change almost everything about me as a person. I now have lost my virginity on a ferris wheel at the St Simon carnival and my mean sexual partner score shifts down from a  6.8 to a hard 5 (a blow job has no face [nor race {nor age}]) HOW FUCKING IMPRESSIVE IS MY tertiary parentheses usage!?!

Anyway, I think in order for lesbians to count real live sex, they have to involve a 3rd party, like a complicated NBA trade...or I suppose I will count scissoring, sure you don't have to hit a perfect balance of "drunk enough to perform but not too drunk to disqualify" but I've been thinking about the physics of it and it seems really difficult. Likely you would need to be in a small one bedroom apartment in New York where you could use your hands to prop up on the wall and provide juxtaposed pressure to... whatever, you get it. 

2. White girls still love Nelly.

I had a shitty day, and I was fully expecting to drink 3 bottles of wine at home whilst watching "The Wire" music video on repeat, but somehow I was dragged out to a Santa Monica bar.

In full jacket and coat, I sucked down IPA's whilst trying not to look miserable.

Cue "Ride With Me" "Hot in Herre" and "Country Grammar"

Obviously I knew every word, and despite the fact that I was RAINING sweat, moreso than a category 3 hurricane, my dick was grabbed by more single trust fund sluts than if I would have just optioned the latest Gillian Flynn novel. If I were a lesbian I probably would have told everyone that I fucked every girl in there.

Everyone was awkward in 1999, acne, lopsided boobs, I was still waiting for armpit that these insecurities are gone, people romanticize this time as if it were really magical or something. 

If you are trying to rap a Nelly song and forget a lyric just lean back and yell "OHHHH!" He does it every 3.5 seconds, odds are, you'll fit in. (Britney Spears still plays as well)

3. If you are planning on taking down a random do not eat Mexican food for breakfast, lunch and dinner. We were around the second round of double dutch (which always plays) when I realized that if I were to go home with the 31 year old girl with the exposed stomach there was a 40% chance I would have to shit mid thrust...but have no fear, a buddy of mine completely distracted me by asking the question..."Dude some chick said in Harry Potter world I would have been a Ravenclaw, is that good or bad?"

Uber home...

I have a blog to write.

It's been, I don't know 8ish years since Harry Potter graduated Hogwarts? I remember reading the 7th book during hell week freshman year and imagining that I could cast spells on all the faggot seniors who would stay in to haze on a Friday night rather than go get to third base (lesbian home run) with some random tri delt. I would be laying in a supply closet covered in dip spit and cayenne pepper and convince myself that I was Harry living under the stairs at the Dursleys, and it must have worked because as Harry became the greatest wizard of all time, I became the greatest fratter of all time.

BUT ANYWAY, back then I always fashioned myself a Gryffindor. They're the good guys, they fight for the underdog. Who wouldn't want to rock the maroon and gold, maybe play left chaser and just run through witch pussy. I'm talking straight up Cedric Diggory before he started fucking Bella Swan...

But there was always an element of vaginitis to the Gryffs. Like I dig that Harry was trying to rail the Asian after he kinda got Edward killed, but why didn't he seal the seal? And what the fuck is up with picking Ginny over Emma Watson? Ginny Weasley is like 20 years old and married...I'm still pissed off Emma Watson didn't get naked in My Week With Marilyn. Regardless, Gryffindors are the boy scouts. The pre 2007 Fiji, the NICE GUYS, who dress well and have pretty girlfriends and don't really upset the apple cart. They have a strong lineage and probably make solid responsible choices. These guys go to the bar and order beers. They tried pot a couple times, but it wasn't for them. They stay in on the weekends and are ready to settle down and start going to dinner parties with their girlfriend's friends. Oh they pretend they like to have a good time, but the stripper at their bachelor party will be topless only.

I'm trying to think what the worst possible thing you can call someone is...
Faggot? That's out of fashion because now the MAIN STREAM MEDIA tells you it's a HATE word...even though it used to be a term of endearment (I only call my FRIENDS faggots) Pussy, nerd, loser...they all send the sameish message. You are WEAK, inadequate, INFERIOR.

Well I think we can scrap all of those and just go ahead and say there is nothing in the world worse than being a Hufflepuff. 

Everyone has heard the urban legend now about the Columbine shooter that asked a girl if she believed in God and then shot her...I truly believe he told her, I'm going to kill you now NO MATTER WHAT, and she said..."Go ahead, you fucking HUFFLEPUFF" Basically Hank Schrader telling Uncle Jack to go fuck himself (can you make school shooting jokes if it's not the most recent school shooting??? It's ok, I empowered her!)

There is nothing worse than being a Hufflepuff. I'm pretty sure a gold star was preferable in 1940's Germany than a golden badger.

Ok that was too far.

Anyway. Hufflepuffs are the guys you work with that went to a directional school (i.e. Eastern Illinois) and didn't join a frat. They aren't skilled, they aren't driven, an ideal life for them is to marry a 5, have an average child that plays youth soccer and never makes the travel team, send him to public schools and pay half of his tuition to Southern Illinois - that he can keep the cycle going.

I'm very torn, because growing up I always thought Ravenclaw was a very underrated house. These were like the smart kids that were secretly doing molly and having sex with each other while keeping a 4.0 and when you found out while drunk at a party you said "NO FUCKING WAY!"

Ravenclaws keep a lowish profile, they live in West LA instead of Santa Monica, they have a girlfriend but that won't stop them from going to the strip club and buying the birthday boy 400 private dances. Your Ravenclaw friend is just a solid dude, you probably often think, I should kick it with this guy more, he's awesome.

But again, it has it's limitations. Even your coolest married friend is still married, and while your buddy that rocks the purple is not as pompous and self riches as the Gryffindor homies, he'll never be the one that recommends staying up until the sun rises. He's not buying the Uber to the bar that claims it is "open at 6am 365 days a year" after a particularly intense bender.

He may pop out an "electric cigarette" right before he leaves the party..."Hey man, it's actually pot...don't tell Nikki." And that's fucking cool man, but that's about as risqué as it gets.


But at the end of the night, your Gryfindor friend has gone home to have missionary sex with his over achieving registered nurse of a fiancé. The Hufflepuff dudes you know are at the Magic Castle blowing up their pathetic social media feed to let everyone know that "they have a buddy who hooked it up" (magic is fucking gay) and the Ravenclaw dude, on his way out, makes some cool plan about the two of you eating pot brownies and going to Joshua Tree together in the spring (this will never happen) you realize tat the party is over and it's time to go to bed.



"What's up motherfucker?!?! You ready to get FUCKING SINNED?"

The SLytherins have arrived.

Your snake friends treat the world as their oyster and every member of the opposite sex as an object. They care about nothing but themselves and the physical pleasures that make them happy. HEY BRAH, chop up a few more lines??? Bro, that SLUT mindy she SUCKED MY DICK IN THE BATHROOM of townhouse (lesbian sex) I told her to come back here and do coke off our nuts but she passed out...


Slytherins are the guys your parents warned you about. They're terrible people, straight up villains. They are the small devil on your left shoulder telling the angel on your right that he is a fucking faggot and that you should go have some reckless fun.

Life is too short not to embrace your inner slytherin...I have no idea how this post started as an indictment on lesbian sex and then somehow turned into my Draco Malfoy fantasy but it happened. 

And Draco never died...I bet he was fucking Ginny Weasley the whole time. You'll see. Once JKR runs out of money she'll write Hogwarts: The College Years and we'll find out Draco was piping Weasley while Harry was busy fucking horses and what not. SUCH A Gryff move, to get peaced by a WASPY blonde. HISSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

Ok, I'm out of booze, if you stayed with my stream of consciousness, congrats, you're as insane as I am.

Thursday, January 9, 2014

The Broeller Test

Sometimes it is hard to live in LA.

When I was growing up all I really wanted was a new video game once in a while, an occasional trip to Disney World and as I grew older at least a semi-annual hand job.

Then of course I wanted to get decent grades, drink copious amounts of alcohol and for my dick to work when I asked it to.

Mid twenties rolled around and all I really wanted to be able to do was pay the rent and fuck around.

When I got to LA, I thought white guilt was the hangover you get when you do too much cocaine, I had no social agenda and didn't really give a fuck about anything or anyone out of my tight knit sphere of influence. (It's like a form of selfishness where you care about others, just not strangers…I'm sure this has a name, ah yes…apathy)

You can imagine my confusion now when I read articles written by straight white men about the plight of the gay athlete or how it's a shame that women and people of color are underrepresented in the media. Yet whenever you give that response of indifference you are heralded as scum.

Sample responses I would give to these socially charged questions:

'I don't care that the gay NBA guy didn't get signed, maybe he was old and not that good anymore.'

'Ya, I guess that sucks that there aren't more black tv writers, I wonder if their dads were auto mechanics instead of Jewish Hollywood producers, I don't know, it doesn't sound like the worst thing that has ever happened.'

Basically, I don't fucking care.

But you can't be indifferent! You have to choose a side! The indifference of good men is what led to the holocaust!

First of all, comparing the plight of someone who faces a few more obstacles in their professional career to genocide makes you sound fucking retarded 

Second, let Hitler be a cautionary tale of what happens when you give short people power.

The thing is, I am fucking sick of political correctness, people feigning concern for the social well being. If you want to be socially conscious and really care, that's fine. But shut the fuck up about it, writing an op-ed piece about how Chris Kluwe should be given a medal for his LGBT activism is akin to posting pictures of your fucking baby. No one cares to see it, but some people may pretend to so they can fit it to an increasingly "high brow liberal" society.

A while back, some cartoonist illustrated a satire piece called the Bechdel test. The rules are simple, in order to pass, a certain piece of media needs to have...

1. At least 2 female characters

2. That talk to each other

3. About something other than men.

You would think that is pretty easy, but only about half of the items applied to this test pass.

In recent years, other spin-offs have been attempted...
There is Deggan's rule:

1. Two non-white human characters

2. In something that isn't about race

Or MY FAVORITE Russo's Rule

1. At least 1 LGBT charachter

2. That is not solely defined by their sexuality (include a tranny but don't focus on the tranny!)

3. The removal of this character must drastically alter the story (didn't know we were having such a problem with the token throwaway gay character)

So basically to pass this series of tests you need to have 2 Asian women talking to a gay banker about the optimal time to refinance their mortgage, seems like thrilling stuff!

My argument is why is any of this bullshit necessary? Some of these rules are so flawed, it's laughable. I would imagine that a show like Orange is the New Black scored very high for the GLAAD community, but it is in chief violation of a major rule. If Piper is not a bisexual, there is no show RUSSO RULE 2!!!! I just wish that people would chill the fuck out and just enjoy something at its face value. The goal of every writer should not have to be to effect social change, it should be to write something interesting and entertaining. I'm sure Wolf of Wall Street violates all three of these tests, but is that an indictment on the film as a dark comedy, satirizing wealth and excess?

I don't write a lot of female characters because I don't know what it's like to be a girl. When I do write a female character she is usually a love interest of my male character and reflects my dream girl...but dream girl often never has another female character to talk to because that would require me to know something about female-female relationships.

For the same reason I write very few gay, minority or short characters, it's not that I don't think an LGBT character can be compelling, it's because I would do a poor job constructing it. It would end up a caricature of modern stereotypes. The gay guy would love broadway, the black dude would love dropping N bombs (but man oh man do I love that word, maybe I should start writing more black characters to have an excuse) it's just not a reflection on what I know.

I've said a million times I'm not a great writer, just a good story teller. I think if you and I had the exact same crazy experience and were then asked to talk about it, I would do a better job. Maybe there are imaginative minds out there that can put themselves inside the body of someone else, I can't.
For whatever reason I'm really into realism, and as much as I hate Lena Dunham, it's one of her best strengths.

Why isn't there an Asian guy and a black girl in the show? Because I hang out with white kids. I think that's a fair answer, now you can tell her to make a wider variety of friends, but that's a different debate.

I am here to save you all.

I have created a NEW test, that should put an end to all the bullshit...

1. There must be at least two characters...

2. That curse frequently, often insulting one another and/or describing sex

3. And casually drop derogatory slang terms about non-present minorities.

Then you come up with brilliant scenes like this...

Now tell me that doesn't feel authentic as shit to you? You perhaps had similar arguments with your friends growing up, and perhaps even made one of your friends name into a gay portmanteau.

Regardless, it feels less forced than a mixed representative group straight from central casting, people need to worry about their own problems and stop crusading for social justice.

If you are a female writer and you don't like how women are portrayed in film WRITE SOMETHING BETTER. If you are a minority and don't like how few of you are working as television producers, don't write a long form article outlining the long and tragic road of non-white authors, write a fucking spec.

Maybe it was just a breath of fresh air to spend 2 weeks in the midwest where people still give less than half a fuck about this stuff, but I needed to get it off my chest, I hope you found my points reasonable and fair, or maybe you think I'm just a self-centered fucktard that is detrimental to the goodwill of humanity, but whatever you think, I hope you at least find me honest. Good day.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Winter Storm Warning

Every year I say the same thing...

"Man, I can't wait for Christmas break, I'm going to chill the fuck out at home. I'm going to write a screenplay, read a few books, spend some quality time with my family and then come back to LA completely refreshed."

My flight was at noon, Saturday December 20th. I stayed in Friday night, I charged my iPad, my laptop, downloaded a couple movies and purchased two non-fiction books. Could not wait to better myself.

I arrived at the airport 90 minutes before my flight (had I been traveling internationally I would have been there 2 hours prior to take-off) I breezed through security, grabbed a Gingerbread latte, texted my brother my flight info and then I took a seat near my gate prepared to spend an hour reading some Malcolm Gladwell.

Then there was an announcement that my flight was delayed by 2 hours.

And that was fucking it.

Lovely 2 week vacation out the window. Fuck the book, fuck the latte, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars, in fact spend 200 dollars on double jack and cokes until your plane arrives.

See I am what you would call a very volatile specimen, when kept in check, when things going according to plan, I can behave very rationally. But I become unstable when a set of conditions begins to change.

That pretty much set the tone for my winter break. There was no screenplay written (I'm really excited about this one guys, it's an action comedy where terrorists takeover the Universal backlot. The protagonist is a hungover PA and his sidekick is the star of his TV show that plays a badass, but is actually a pussy's going to have a budget of 300 million dollars and will make me the most famous writer of all time) Well alas, I didn't read, I didn't write, but I did do this.

As with all good stories, my winter break started at the Runcible Spoon in Bloomington. It was my first return trip to campus since I had left Little 5 2012 in a pool of my own blood, it was that day that I vowed I would never attempt to party like an undergrad again, but that didn't mean I couldn't come back to campus for a shitty December basketball game and get alumni wasted. So that is what I sat out to do.

I remember thinking, this is going to be the greatest trip of my life, everything is going to be exactly the way it used to be. Then with this triumphant attitude, I decided to use the restroom whilst I waited for my eggs. I went into that weird ass hippie bathroom, at runcible, you know the one with the bath tub and giant goldfish in the tub?

Well the goldfish is gone, I don't know if it died, or they just don't do that anymore, but it's fucking gone, and that would be a metaphor moving forward on this trip.

We go to the game and trounce some shitty Georgia Junior College or something and I actually convinced myself for like 5 minutes that the team wasn't awful. I was a tad bummed because I didn't run into anyone I knew at the game, but whatever, it's a Sunday on Christmas break. I know what it is, I bet everyone is at the bars! To Nick's!

Ghost town. A few people are watching some football games, but no bizz being sank, just a few locals watching the Colts. Well obviously everyone must be at Kilroy's.

Crickets. There wasn't even an old bartender I could share war stories with. The sad reality was that Bloomington was a place that has passed me by. No one there remembers my antics, who I am, I'm just a dude that graduated 4 years ago. A complete cycle of students have come and gone since I graduated. But that's fine, I went back to Nick's kicked back some cold ones with my fam and ate the shit out of a pizza. (Still really fucking good) A tad disappointing, but no worries, I have a week in Indy to rally the old gang.

My week in Indianapolis was as such, I slept until noon every day, drank whiskey in the basement and watched my cats fight. I would go to the mall with my parents and shit, and they hooked me up with the sickest new wardrobe and that was amazing, but save for one dinner with a friend, I didn't do a fucking thing in Indianapolis. That was realization dos, I haven't lived here since...high school. People have lives, they are busy with their own shit, just because my job gives me 2 weeks off, doesn't mean the world will stop to go get shitfaced with me on a Monday night. So instead I spent my evenings going to the movies or checking out a Pacer game, going to my favorite pizza spot or just laying on the couch watching Christmas specials.

Again, nothing too crazy...

But I still had one more stop left on my journey...Chicago! This is where we came of age, this was our crazy early 20's, this is where all my friends are!

I got to Chicago on a Monday (after riding a Megabus with a screaming toddler projecting his voice RIGHT into my ear. I cannot wait to have kids and DRUG THE FUCK OUT OF THEM during travel) and I checked into a hotel with 2 good friends and we proceeded to rage at a Zedd show.

Finally, this trip was gaining steam, the concert was amazing, I was drunk as fuck, we had an after party at my hotel room with some chicks, I felt like this is what I signed up for.

But then I woke up on New Year's Eve and we had to check out. I had a raging hangover and nowhere really to go. There is nothing worse than being hungover, with several bags and having nowhere to go...when it is negative 10 degrees outside.

I used to LIVE here, ALL my friends are here. Even after I left, for a while I had my old key and would just show up unannounced and my old roommates would be thrilled. But they don't even live in the fucking country anymore, and I am so bad at keeping in touch that I've lost everyone. I was in Chicago, on New Year's Eve without a destination or a plan.

I end up heading to meet a good friend and watch some IU bball, I drank away my hangover until somehow I was drunk and at a random house party and lo and behold, I celebrated the New Year by getting kicked out of a party, shortly after midnight.

By some miracle, I was able to find a nice hardwood floor to crash on that night, but alas I woke up on the 1st and had to go through the whole process again. I have to leave here now, my flight back to LA isn't for 2 more days. God dammit. Being the nomad that I was, I decided to head north, where somehow I was pressured into continuing my bender. I spent New Year's Day at a bar in Milwaukee playing drinking games with strangers and taking advantage of the Grand Prix, this is a deal that comes with a shot of whiskey, a PBR and a cigarette, all for the reasonable price of 5 bucks.

Wisconsinites are very well versed in drinking.

The 2nd I took a train back to Chicago, slept on a couch in Lincoln Park and woke up at 5am to take an uber to the airport. It's a miracle that I got out of O'Hare on the 3rd as Chicago was in the midst of one of the worst winter storms in recent years. When I finally landed in LA 2 weeks after leaving, I vowed that I would never leave again, at least for any extended period like that. I was bankrupt both morally and financially and I spent the 4th and the 5th laying on a couch. I didn't move once, and I was still hungover at work on Monday.

I was bitter for a minute about my trip because I spent the whole time in general discomfort and in search of something that I never quite found.

But that's the problem, my perspective.

The way I have framed my trip, it sounds like it was pretty miserable.

But also...
I saw the best team in the NBA, visited my college, saw the best dj in the world, visited 3 states, caught up with some great friends and most importantly, saw my family for the first time in a year (and oh the presents were pretty grand too) Man I went on a fucking adventure!

I've gotten past the whole, rage until dawn, fuck an ex and sleep on the floor thing. That's not what these trips are about. In fact, I'm turning 27 pretty soon, maybe that's a good age to just start planning on a hotel. It doesn't inconvenience your friends, and on the off chance you do find a willing piece of ass, it makes you look like a baller.

As eye opening as my trip was, I also learned that it's not home anymore. It's the place I grew up. Where my family lives. My life is here now.

I used to LOVE going home after college. It was like my place of solace that I could run away to and revert to an earlier, simpler time. I think that's because my entire existence from Jun 1, 2009 until about a year ago I was absolutely fucking miserable. I truly believed that everyone woke up every day wanting to kill themselves because of how much they hated their job, their life 5 days a week...but the only reason they didn't is because they were going to get super fucked up Friday night and it would be awesome until the Sunday night dread started to set in.

That's not true.

My life now kicks ass. I get paid shitty, and I'm an assistant and most of my Kelley colleagues probably make 3 times what I do in a year, but I don't fucking care. I wake up in the morning with a smile on my face, and I ride my bike to the beach. Then I drive my long ass commute to work, but I knock out a podcast and learn something interesting before I start my day.

I still get super hammered and put my dick places I shouldn't and Behave poorly but it's not because I'm running away from something. The idea of staying in on a Friday used to appall me because I was getting one step closer to what I perceived as a fate worse than death: Monday. Now, if I'm tired, it's Netflix and a whiskey rocks for me.

So ya, my trip home was fucking awesome. The midwest is cold as shit, but I did all my favorite stuff and I did it with some kick ass people.

My home is in California now. And I really do want my family to do a destination vacation for Christmas next year, because all of your instagram photos succeeded in making me jealous this time around, but I'm pretty sure I can find some contentment anywhere this go around.

I know it can be nauseating to hear people talk about how great things are going, because everyone has their fucking problems and they don't want to hear that things are perfect.

Things aren't perfect for me. My car constantly smells of gas, I think it is probably going to explode with me in it, sending me to a Paul Walkerian demise. At the going rate I will never have a relationship that lasts longer than a month, and my credit score is lower than Indiana Football's win percentage.

So my vacation wasn't incredible. My life isn't spectacular.

But it's good enough.