So today would be the blog where I become serious for a day and talk about how fortunate we all are to have independence and how we all take it for granted.

Nah I’m not going to do that.

Sure it’s nice to have freedom, but Independence Day is about three-day weekends, drinking beer and fireworks. That’s it. And I’m fairly certain that it is exactly what our forefathers hoped that it would be.

By the way, speaking of our forefathers, did you know that Independence Day should really be July 2nd? It’s true. On July 2nd, 1776, the Continental Congress voted in favor of our independence. In other words, the United States legally became independent on July 2nd.

On July 4th, the actual document, the Declaration of Independence, was approved. So, technically, the anniversary of our independence is really July 2nd. I shit you not. Look it up if you don’t believe me.

In fact, John Adams, who revised the Declaration of Independence with Benjamin Franklin after Thomas Jefferson wrote it, wrote this letter to his wife, Abigail:

The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more

Well, he was right about the celebration, but wrong about the date. One out of two ain’t bad, though, John.

However, 235 years later, I truly wonder if our forefathers would have declared independence if they knew that Facebook would eventually come about?

Or, better yet, can you imagine if the Declaration of Independence was written on Facebook? The Continental Congress would be sitting in a room in Philadelphia, all on their Macs, and Thomas Jefferson would have written a new “note.” That note would be the Declaration of Independence.

Slowly, the rest of the delegates from the 13 colonies would have “liked” it. Then John Hancock, in a large font, would have written: “Awesome job TJ! This note is soooo good lol”

Or better yet, what if Jefferson tweeted the Declaration of Independence? The actual document contains 1458 words, so Jefferson would have had to narrow that down to 140 characters. If any one can do it, Thomas Jefferson can.

Hmm, I’ve talked a lot about Thomas Jefferson the past few days, haven’t I?

By the way, since I’m talking about Facebook, I wanted to post a couple of musings that came to my mind recently:

  • Nobody gives a shit about your new pin number
  • Does anybody else find it amusing when you post a Facebook status about something in particular, whether it be a random thought, an action that you are currently undertaking, or anything, really, and then the next day, you share that exact same thought with somebody in person, and that person responds, “Oh yeah, I saw you wrote that on Facebook yesterday…”

When somebody says that, it tells me two things.

1) They are a Facebook fiend and they probably see every Facebook status that all of their friends post. Let’s face it, that applies to 90% of us. It’s only natural to check Facebook at least once an hour. You’re not going to miss much.

2) It tells me that they saw your status, it resonated enough that they are able to remember it the next day, and yet, they still didn’t comment. Which means that they don’t give enough of a shit about you to warrant a comment, or they wanted to comment, but felt weird doing it.

Either way, I think it’s funny.

Okay, I think I’m done here. It pains me to say it, because I know how much distress it will cause all… 1 of you… when I say that I will officially be out of town until Monday. Therefore, you will not be hearing from me for a few days. I’m heading to the Poconos for a three night celebration with friends. We will be doing the three B’s… boozing, barbecuing and lighting fireworks.

I’m not going to lie. Whatever you’re doing this weekend… I’m going to have more fun.


I am currently in peak haircut mode

This morning, I woke up, went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. All it took was one glance.

Out loud, I said to myself… “I’m there.”

No, “there” was not Narnia. That would be cool though, to wake up one day, walk into the bathroom and suddenly be in a magical forest with a whole bunch of talking beavers and parrots and shit. Maybe one day, but not today.

The place I was in was “peak haircut mode.”

For all of you amateurs out there, allow me to explain what peak haircut mode is. Peak haircut mode is when your hair looks, in your own opinion, its best. When I initially get my haircut, I get it a little shorter than what I think is ideal. This is because it allows me to expand the time until I need to go back to the barbershop. Also, I do this because I know that barbers aren’t perfect. If I try to explain the act length I want my hair, I know they’ll fuck it up somehow. And then that’ll ruin peak haircut mode.

So, I have them cut it short, and then, let it grow into peak haircut mode. This usually takes about 10 days or so.

It’s a short-lived period, but a great one. I imagine it’s the complete opposite of when girls go through their actual period. Instead of having 3 or 4 days (I don’t know, how long does a period last?! Actually, I don’t want to know) of moodiness, discomfort and pain, you get to experience 3 or 4 days of confidence, smugness and invincibility. It’s quite a high. A natural high.

There is a lot of strategy that goes into peak haircut mode. For one thing, if I know I have a big event coming up that I want to look good for, like a wedding or a party, for example, I will get a haircut the week before. I would never, I repeat NEVER, get my haircut during the same week. That is the cardinal sin of looking good. You’re putting way too much faith in your barber, and only setting yourself up for failure and humiliation.

It’s simple enough, But things get trickier than that. It’s like being a sports coach. Managing and strategizing on a day-to-day basis is easy. It’s thinking ahead months in advance that separates the dimwitted from the bright. Thus, when the summertime comes around, and you have an exorbitant amount of significant events upcoming, that is when it becomes troublesome.

This is when you need to pick and choose which events are most important. If you have big events just two or three weeks apart, you’re pretty much screwed. That’s when you need to decide which event is more worthy of peak haircut mode. For the other, you’ll just have to make due with what you have, whether you’re in “just got a haircut mode,” or “just about to get a haircut mode.” For the latter, wearing a hat is definitely an option.

It doesn’t mean you still can’t look good, but you won’t look your best.

And bear in mind, this is all a difference of opinion. One person may like shorter hair, and a person may prefer longer hair. But the point is, you want your hair to look the way that you like it best. If that’s the case, then you will not be insecure, you will not be self-conscious, and you will be exuding confidence out of every aura. And when you’re confident and feeling good, then you can accomplish anything. Confidence is key.

Of course, this is all a moot point if you either: a) are bald b) have a shitty hairstyle, or c) for the life of you, don’t know how to use hair gel. I can’t help you guys.

But, if you’re like me, and you have a beautiful head of soft, radiant, flowing hair, then you know exactly what I mean when I say peak haircut mode. You get it.

Life is about the little things. And being in peak haircut mode is one of the biggest little things we have.

Or, you could, you know, not worry about superficial things such as your looks, your hair and your physical appearance in general, and just focus on being a warm, compassionate and nice person, and hope that people will like you for what’s on the inside.


My summer of love

I’ve decided — basically just ten minutes ago — that this is going to be my summer of love.

What do I mean by that? Do I mean that I expect to meet a girl, fall in love and settle down at some point during the summer? Not quite.

But I’ve come to a realization. This is my first time entering a summer where I have a lot of money. This is my first time entering a summer with a stable job. This is my first time entering a summer where I’m not pissed off at anybody.

Basically, what I am saying is, this may be the peak of my life. I hope I’m wrong. I hope my life continuously gets better every year. But, let’s face it, I’m a realist; not a pessimist — a realist. I know that life throws curveballs at you.

Heck, I may even be in the best shape right now that I’ll ever be in my entire life. Again, I hope I’m wrong. But I’m in pretty decent shape right now, and I can’t assume that I’m going to be more fit a year from now.

So, what it all comes down to, is that I need to make sure I live it up this summer. I have multiple trips planned already, barbeques galore (or “beer-beques,” as I like to call them, amirite people, AMIRITE? No? Okay) and plenty of money to blow along the way.

So, if I see a girl that I like, I’m going for it. I’m not going to do it the usual way: Say hello to her, find out her name, then immediately look her up on Facebook when I get home, stare at all of her pictures and then never talk to her again. That’s a thing of the past.

And that is why I am officially coining the Summer of 2011 as “My summer of love.”

In the future, many years from now, when I hear the song “Summer of ’69,” by Bryan Adams, and hear the line, “Those were the best days of my life…” I want to think of this summer. Why I am listening to Bryan Adams is a totally different question in itself, but you know, just in case it comes on the radio, or something.

The big question is, what do I do differently? I’ve been repelling girls for 24 years and 2 months now, so how am I suddenly going to change? For one, I can grow a pair and stop worrying about being nice. You can’t ever nice a girl into liking you. It doesn’t work.

It doesn’t mean I need to start being a dick. But what it does mean is to be more aggressive and not worry if it doesn’t work out.

In the future, many years from now, when I hear the song “Summergirls,” by LFO, and hear the line, “She’s been gone since that summer, since that summer…” I want to think of this summer. Why I am listening to LFO is a totally different question in itself, but you know, just in case it comes on the radio, or something.

And that’s the plan. When this summer ends, I want there to be a possibility that I could have an STD. I pray to God that I don’t actually get one, but just knowing in the back of my head that it could be a possibility, well, that means I did good.

When this summer ends, I want there to be at least four new girls who I can never talk to again, only because I hooked up with them and never called them like I said I would.

When this summer ends, I want to finally learn how to unhook a girl’s bra, even if it requires some type of chisel to do it.

And just in case you’re wondering, this is what a chisel looks like:

A chisel.

Actually, on second thought, that probably wouldn’t be too safe. And why would I even have a chisel with me when I am in bed with a girl? Why would I have a chisel with me ever?

In the future, many years from now, when I hear the song “Summer Love,” by Justin Timberlake, and hear the line, “This just can’t be summer love, you’ll see…” I want to think of this summer. Why I am listening to Justin Timberlake  is a totally different question in itself, but you know, just in case it comes on the radio, or something.

And that is what I want. Nay, that is what I need.

Bring it on summer. Bring it on.

Who would I go gay for?

Yeah, so, the big news about New York legalizing gay marriage has led to conversations that I never ever thought I would have.

This Saturday, while dining with my friends, a discussion began regarding what celebrity men I would consider making out with. At first, there was incentive, as with most hypotheticals. Things like, “Would you make out with Brad Pitt if you got to make out with Angelina Jolie after?” That’s one example. But then, things just got straight up gay and we were discussing who we would make out with without any incentive whatsoever.

Now, and I can’t stress this enough, I am as straight as can be. Heck, I’m so straight that my pornography of choice involves girl-on-girl. I don’t want any dicks in the picture when I’m trying to get off. Too much information?

That being said, I’m so comfortable with my sexuality that I don’t feel the slightest bit uncomfortable talking about hypothetical gayness. So, I put some thought into it, and I compiled a short list of male celebrities that I would probably be willing to make out with if the opportunity ever presented itself.

Oh and to answer that question before, yes, I would definitely make out with Bradley Pitt if it meant getting to insert my tongue into Angelina Jolie’s mouth.

Here we go… there’s actually still time for me to not proceed any further and take this giant leap into gayness. Nope, still going to go through with it. But, to offset it a little bit, I’ll refer you to my top 5 hottest chicks blog that I wrote a little over a year ago. Looking back, that list has definitely changed over the past 12 months, and may call for an updated 2011 version. Food for thought.

Now, here we go for real… I’ve decided to make this list a little more unique. Instead of a standard ‘top 5,’ I will list a few celebrities whom are usually highly regarded for their physical appearance. I’ll talk a little about them, and then decide if I would go gay for them or not.

Ewan McGregor

Ewan McGregor is an astonishingly handsome man. There is just no denying it. But what I like most about Ewan is not his ravishing looks, but the fact that he is a very talented actor. I have enjoyed several of his movies. In fact, Big Fish (2003) is one of my favorite movies of all time. Ewan doesn’t have a history of legal troubles, he seems like an absolutely charming man, and he is a master of his trade. In other words, he’s the ideal man to take home to meet mom.

Would I go gay for Ewan McGregor? Yes. 

Brad Pitt

Ah, the aforementioned Brad Pitt. He is literally the quintessence of handsomeness. When somebody is clearly trying too hard to look good, a person might say to them, “Who do you think you are, Brad Pitt?” That’s when you know you’re good-looking. My life goal is for that phrase to one day be, “Who do you think you are, David Weingrad?” However, something tells me that will never happen.

In all honesty, I think Pitt’s looks are a little overrated. Is he good-looking? No doubt. Is he the best looking man in the world? No. However, and as weird as it sounds, I love Brad Pitt as an actor. He just gets it. He knows how to be witty, funny and endearing on the screen. So much so that whenever I watch his films, I find myself becoming slightly jealous of his lady-love interest. So, that leads me to a conclusion.

Would I go gay for Brad Pitt? No.

Would I go gay for Brad Pitt if were acting in a movie together? Absolutely.

Leonardo DiCaprio

DiCaprio is another great example of a stunningly handsome man who can act. He proved that as a child actor, and has only confirmed it as he’s aged. In addition, practically every woman is in love with him. After Titanic was released, a DiCaprio craze took over, and it got kind of annoying. But what do I think?

Honestly, I don’t know about the current DiCaprio. He’s older now, and now sports that rugged beard as he seeks more mature roles. He still does good movies, but the characters he has been portraying lately have been pained, unlikable men that are heavily flawed. See: Inception, Revolutionary Road, Shutter Island. All good movies, but Leo’s character — whiled acted well — are not exactly men that you would want to ever date.

I want to know what happened to this Leo:

Leo in Titanic

The Leo that had that youthful exuberance and that zest for life. The Leo where every line he recited was said with zeal. The Leo that told Rose that he would never let go. I don’t know, that Leo hasn’t been around for a while. So, bearing that in mind…

Would I go gay for Leonardo Dicaprio? No.

Would I go gay for Leonardo Dicaprio 10 years ago? Yes.

Jake Gyllenhaal

I like Jake as an actor. He was great as the troubled teen in Donnie Darko. But, I don’t know, there’s always been something about him that just rubs me the long way. I feel like he’s somebody that’s heard all the talk about how handsome and talented he is, and it’s gotten to his head and inflated his ego. When I see him on late shows, he just acts way too comfortable. Like I said, I don’t really have anything against him, and he seems like a really good guy, but, not one that I can see myself entering a relationship with. It just would not work in the long-term. Sorry Jake, it’s not you, it’s me.

Would I go gay for Jake Gyllenhaal? No.

Christian Bale

When Christian Bale puts his mind to it, he’s arguably the best current working actor, as proven in The Fighter (2010). He is another one that woman love, and it’s really hard to blame them. He’s got all the check marks; his name is Christian for one thing, who doesn’t like that? He has an English accent, and he’s good at his job. Oh, and he’s rich. However, in 2008, he was arrested for allegedly assaulting two of his family members. I believe the incident ended up being more overblown than it really was, but clearly there’s some darkness inside of Bale. That just won’t do.

Would I go gay for Christian Bale? No.

Ryan Gosling

People don’t know it yet, but Ryan Gosling is one of the best actors in Hollywood. The guy never has a bad performance. What I like most about him is that you’ll never see him sell out and take a blockbuster role just to get paid. In other words, you’ll never see him portray a superhero. He does indie flicks with good scripts, and in result, he makes quality after quality film.

Because of that, however, not a lot of people have seen his work. But he’ll get his due someday. And how can you not like that? An actor with integrity. In addition to that, he is quite the looker. Also, I’ve seen him interviewed before, and he just seems so… cool. No other way to say it. If I could switch lives with anybody in the world, it would be Ryan Gosling. I am jealous of his life.

Would I go gay for Ryan Gosling? Fuck yeah.

And I think that is enough. If you analyze the results, you can probably begin to determine my “type” in this hypothetical gay checklist. I guess the real question isn’t whether I would go gay for them, but, would they go gay for me?

And although this is hypothetical, since I’m very straight, it’s still going to take me several weeks to offset the gayness that exists overwhelmingly in this blog today.

Oh well, what’s done is done.

I’m always drunk when big news happens

Trend… or bad in habit that requires an intervention?

Back in November of 2008, I’ll never forget where I was when I first learned that Barack Obama had been elected as the 44th president of the United States. I was in the shittiest, crummiest and dirtiest bar that I have ever known in my life. I went to school in Binghamton, located in upstate New York, and there was a bar there called The Rat.

It’s a basement. I’m not exaggerating when I say that. The bar is literally located below ground, and directly below another bar that is located above it on level ground. Again… basement.

The bar is notorious in Binghamton because it will let anybody with an I.D. inside the bar no matter how fake it looks. So, naturally, it’s an ideal bar for freshmen, sophomores and future sexual predators.

At the time, I fit neither of those molds. I was a senior, and legally old enough to drink. However, it was a Tuesday, as all election Days are. On Tuesdays, at The Rat, they have Beerpong Night. No way I am missing that.

and FYI… the bar received national media attention when a fight occurred there where a Serbian kid stomped the shit out of another guy, and then eluded capture by fleeing back to Serbia with the aid of the Serbian consulate. Condoleezza Rice herself worked to bring him back and get him tried. Needless to say, that bar has been closed down as of last year. R.I.P. The Rat.

So, yeah, long story short, i was playing a Beerpong game when the DJ announced to the bar, “Well, it looks like Obama is going to be president.”

And that, is where I get to tell my grand kids — way in the future — where I was when the first African-American was elected president.

And last night, history repeated itself. Gay marriage was legalized in New York. It won’t become official for 30 days, so all you homosexual lovebirds will have to wait a month (but, hey, you’ve waited thousands of years, 30 days won’t kill you) to officially tie the knot.

And just like three years ago on Election Day ’08, I was again in a shit hole bar. I was at a dive bar in my hometown, drunk out of my mind on Budweiser and Jaeger bombs, when I checked Twitter on my droid and saw everyone tweeting about gay marriage.

I don’t know, maybe it’s because, at the time, I was drunk enough that I would have gladly hooked up with a fat chick… and even now I’m hung over as shit, but I never thought it would hit me the way it did. I am proud to be from New York. Immensely. Seeing the reaction of people on the news, on television and on Twitter makes me realize just how significant this is.

Sure, most of those people are straight people who took up the cause when they really did not need to, but so what? My general feelings are that there is no reason to deny people the right to be happy.

When Thomas Jefferson wrote the declaration of Independence, he said that people — ALL people — had the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

We all have life. In America, we have liberty.

And yet, we say we lived up to the decree of the pursuit of happiness, and we didn’t allow gay marriage in the U.S. until now?! Fuck that.

Happiness isn’t innate. It’s not inherent. It’s not something that grows on trees. Trust me, I’ve tried planting one.

To be happy, you marry the person you love. Man or Women. Gay or straight. Human or smurf. You celebrate your love in a formal ceremony in front of your friends and family. It’s just what we do.

I personally never knew Tommy Jefferson, but the man was a genius. He didn’t say that every American deserves happiness. He said that every American deserves the pursuit of happiness. which means we have the right to go out and try to obtain it on our own. It’s something that we need to find. And it’s not easy.

Life sucks. Let’s not deny it. Between having shitty jobs and dealing with taxes, death, disease, war and mosquito bites, the world offers you something daily to bring you down. Whether you take the bait or not is up to you. But, my point is, the world doesn’t hand much happiness to you on a silver platter.

Birthdays, job promotions, the birth of your children, your favorite sports team winning a championship…. and marriage. The list is short. That’s all we got. That’s all. Those are things we all deserve.

And yet, you’re going to stand there and look me in the fucking face and deny one of those things to a large group of people just because the Bible doesn’t mention it?

So all these religious fanatics, all these outspoken zealots who just NEED to have their voice heard, because they claim that the fucking Bible doesn’t allow gay marriage… weren’t listening to the single most important document our country has ever known. The Declaration of motherfucking Independence.

if Tommy J were here today, he’d bitch slap every American for how long it took for gay marriage to be passed. And I’d be the first one to stand in line to allow Thomas Jefferson himself to slap me in my mug.

Good job New York. Took you long enough, asshole.

I need a damsel in distress

I’ve talked about pretty serious topics the past two days, so let’s lighten it up a little bit.

I was doing a little thinking earlier today as to why I have yet to meet that “one special lady.” Not that I am in any sort of rush, but sometimes one has to wonder why someone as good-looking, intelligent and likable as me hasn’t settled down with a fine young lass. And I came to a conclusion.

While girls may notice my astoundingly attractive physical appearance, my endearing personality, my witty intelligence and dry sense of humor, there’s one more ingredient missing, and it’s what makes all of the difference. And it’s not because I don’t possess it; it’s missing because they don’t get to see it.

My heroism.

No, I don’t mean my addiction to drugs, I’m talking specifically about my heroic traits. If need to be, I am a hero. Not a superhero… at least I don’t think. I do own a cape though. And have a cool nickname if ever need be. But that’s beside the point.

I mean your everyday, average citizen who abides by the law and goes about his business normally, but if need be, he can step up and save the world. I mean it.

It’s not often when you get to prove to others that you are a hero. Situations don’t usually come along that give you the opportunity to save lives. Especially in my mundane, simple existence. Fight or flight situations don’t normally arise.

However, if they do, I know I’d fight. I am not a very confrontational person. I don’t normally get into fights. But I do have some friends who are quite the opposite. And when I see a friend of mine in a tussle, I don’t even think. I just spring into action and jump right into the thick of things to defend my friend. And you know why? It’s because at the end of the day, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing that I didn’t come to the defense of one of my friends. A black eye or bruise is totally worth it in my opinion.

So yeah. Like I said. Hero.

It’s this quality that girls don’t see. Girls like heroes.

What I need is a situation like the movies. Where a normal guy (me) and a normal [attractive] girl suddenly get thrown into this extraordinary adventure in which our lives are suddenly on the line. Obviously at first, we won’t see eye-to-eye. She’ll think I’m some self-centered, egotistical pig who isn’t capable of real feelings.

However, as the extraordinary adventure becomes more dangerous, I show off my heroics. Maybe it’s even like a “National Treasure” type situation and we have to solve clues and riddles along the way. That way I get to show my intelligence.

At one point, I’ll safe her life. I’ll put my own life in jeopardy and save her from danger. That’s when she’ll begin to fall for me.

Then, at another point, I’ll risk it all and become captured to sacrifice myself in order to save the girl. That’s when tears fill her eyes and she suddenly realizes that she can’t live without me. However, miraculously, I will escape capture, and end the extraordinary adventure once and all, ridding the world of the evil villain.

At the end, the girl and I will reunite, and we’ll realize that after this whole ordeal, her and I can’t possibly live without eachother.

And then we live happily after. And have sex.

That’s exactly how it goes in the movies, and that’s exactly what I need to happen in my life. It’s like some type of unwritten code. If a girl and a guy undergo a miraculous, spellbinding, life-threatening adventure that spans over multiple days, the two of them have to fall in love.

And that is why I have yet to meet that “one special lady.” I just can’t meet somebody in an office, or be introduced to someone through mutual friends at a bar. I need to meet this girl during a situation where you’re not even sure if you’ll ever see tomorrow. Because how a girl reacts in the face of danger will tell me all that I need to know. Because that is when people show their true colors. That is when I will know that this girl is legit.

And that is when I will know that I have found a keeper. It’s as simple as that.

Unfortunately, I think it’s safe to say that this extraordinary adventure will not be happening this weekend. So, I will indeed see tomorrow. And with that will come the only keeper that I know. Budweiser.

Drinking and driving

Drinking and driving is retarded.

There’s no question about. There is no circumstance where drinking alcohol and then getting behind a wheel is acceptable. The worst part about drinking and driving is not only that you are putting your own life at risk, but even worse, innocent people around you. They may die because you made a fucking awful decision. How can you ever live with that?

That being said, I hate when people get all self-righteous when talking about drinking and driving. Nobody likes to admit it, but we’ve all done it. We were all 21 and 22 years old, thinking that just because we’re old enough to drink, we can safely maneuver a vehicle after without a problem.

I’m not even kidding when I say this, but I drove home after drinking the first week after I got my driver’s license. So not only was I drinking underage, but I was driving drunk. Not my best decision! We were all stupid kids once, and don’t act like you weren’t. Even today, I get behind a car after I’ve had a couple of beers, and know that I am not drunk.  I don’t drive if I know I’m drunk. I’ll walk, I’ll get a ride and pick up my car tomorrow, I’ll have someone else drive my car, or I’ll crash at somebody’s house. I’m not a stupid kid anymore.

In addition, there’s been plenty of times when I’ve gotten in a car with somebody who I know probably would not pass a blood-alcohol test. This is just as bad of a decision — if not worse — because you are putting your life in somebody else’s hands. When you’re drunk, and you need to get somewhere, and somebody offers to drive you… it’s pretty hard to turn that down.

So, my point is, we all make bad decisions. We’ve all drove when we probably shouldn’t have, and we all get in cars with people when we know we shouldn’t.

It’s almost one of those things where, and as unfortunate as this sounds, you need a wake-up call to realize the severity of the situation. for example, maybe you, or someone you know, gets a DWI. Or maybe even, and this is the worst case scenario, someone you know dies from a drinking and driving incident. That shit will smarten you up fast.

I mean, I read these stories about how somebody was caught driving 100 mph on the fucking highway and had a BAC of .23. How the hell does this happen? That’s basically driving while you are blacked out. This I will never understand, and these people who are doing this deserve to be behind bars for a very long time. In my worst ever state of mind, I would still never make the decision to drive when I’m wasted. Shit, if I’m borderline blacking out, I don’t even want to look at a parked car unless I’m throwing up behind it, let alone maneuvering one.

My point is, you’re going to make stupid mistakes in your life. There’s no point denying it. But just try to keep shit in perspective. If you’re going to make a dumb decision, make a smart dumb decision. And, in the meantime, you’ll learn to not make any dumb decisions at all.

This was on my mind today because I was thinking about the death of Ryan Dunn. He was known best for being a member of the daredevil/stunt group known as Jackass. First of all, allow me to voice my shock that it took this long for one of the Jackass guys to go and get himself killed.

Anyway, so he was driving drunk and fast and in result, his car ended up looking like this:

This, at some point, was a car.

Yup, that will kill you.

His BAC was reportedly twice the legal limit, and he even posted a picture of himself drinking alcohol with his friends on Twitter three hours before he died. The worst part is, he also killed another dude who was in the passenger’s seat of his car at the time.

That’s… a few bad decisions in a row.

The big question is: do you sympathize for some one who died while drinking and driving?

In my opinion, that question is irrelevant. But what does bother me is the people who come outright and say, “Well, I have no sympathy for someone who dies like that. So whatever.”

When no one asks for your opinion, and you say something like that, you look like the biggest jackass on the world. That’s just FYI. Do what you want with it.

He made a dumb decision. It really doesn’t make it any less tragic. Does it make me not feel as bad? Probably. But to not have sympathy would just make you a robot. Does drunk driving make you a bad person? No. Does it make you a dumb person? Yes. Should I feel bad for dead smart people, but not dead dumb people?

Also, the Internet threw a hissy fit when Roger Ebert, the famous film critic,  tweeted “Friends don’t let jackasses drive drunk,” just a few hours after Dunn died.


I’ve never been one of those people that abides by the “too soon” rule, but yeah, if I have a Twitter account that is followed by 485,000 people… I’d probably at least have waited a few days. Not exactly the wisest move by Mr. Ebert solely because he should have known that people would react that way. Because I don’t disagree with what he said at all. When did the world become so goddamn sensitive?

The conclusion of all this nonsense: Drinking and driving can only do harm. Think about that. I’m not going to be anyone’s mother and say not to do it, but it’s a bad idea. If you can avoid it, please do. If you can’t, well, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

Gay marriage

That’s right, I’m going there. Gay marriage has bene a hot button issue for a while, and we actually may be only days away from its legalization in New York state.

Instead of me saying things like “about damn time!” or “justice is served,” or some shit like that, I am going to say this…

Why the hell is this even still an issue? It’s 2011. We’re supposed to be an advanced society at this point. Who in their right goddamn mind actually thinks that gay people don’t have the innate right to get married?!

Honestly, I don’t see the difference in discriminating against homosexuals by disallowing them to get married and discriminating against black people and supporting slavery. I really don’t. Both are prejudice against a group of people for something that they were born with. It’s not like gay people choose to be gay, and you’re pissed off at their decision-making. That’s just who they are. It’s how they were born. As people. Lots of people were born that way.

Just like how lots of people were born white. Or how lots of people born as douchebags.

How many people do you actually know that are against gay marriage? Like do you actually have friends that take a hard stance against gay marriage, thinking that it is wrong and it’s illegal? Because I don’t know a single person. So where are these jackasses coming from?

Oh right, let me guess, down south. Down in the ol’ Bible Belt where people take the Bible literally.

Also you know what I love? And by love, I really mean the opposite. When straight people take up the fight for gay people and post all this shit on Facebook about how wrong it is to be against gay marriage. Umm, they can speak, you know? You don’t need to fight their battles for them. I swear, sometimes I think people are supporting these causes just to feel better about themselves, rather than being an actual advocate.

Straight people are not better than gay people. Or vise verse. Gay people already know that. And most straight people act as if they have to prove that they know that. Well, how about you just be yourself and treat others like you would normally treat them? You don’t need to sympathize just to make yourself look better. Because you look like a jackass.

You know what I think? I think people who don’t believe in gay marriage should be the ones that are denied the right to marriage, just out of pure stupidity. Plus, those people should not be allowed to procreate.

And there’s an idea. If the world wants to be prejudice, then how about we discriminate against stupid people? Stupid and ignorant people, actually. That way people get to be prejudiced and they get to benefit society! It’s called taking a negative trait and turning it into a plus. Damn, I’m so goddamn smart.

Marriage is not holy, it’s not sacred, it’s not sanctimonious, it’s getting a fucking document saying that you are married. It’s celebrating your love in front of friends and family. It’s forming mutual bank accounts. It does not need to be religious.

Man, religion can be such a disaster sometimes. if not most of the time. It’s cool to believe in a greater being and all, but it’s the people who are so religious that they believe shit just because it’s written in a book that was written thousands of years ago. How is that any different from a crazy person? Why is being overly religious not considered a mental disorder, but autism, ADD and Tourette’s are? I’d much rather hang out with someone with the latter three illnesses than a  religious freak with a stable mind (or is that an oxymoron?). No question about it

Because out of those freaks, you get the idiots that think gay marriage should not be allowed. Again, it’s 2011. Racism, prejudice and discrimination are so twenty-five years ago.

Get with the program.

Top 5 most overrated things

Today I am here to discuss things that are overrated. I know that many things in this world fall under that category, but I’m talking about the most overrated. The things that top the list.

And I know that “overrated” is a very overused term, but I’m talking about things that people brag or rave about all the time on Facebook, saying how good these things are. I’m here to rain on those people’s parades.

So let’s get to it.

The top 5 most overrated things in the world:

5) Traveling.

you are now free to move about the country

People will always post on Facebook whenever they are going to another place. Whether that other place is their cousin’s wedding in Connecticut, or an exotic island halfway across the world; no one has ever traveled before and not posted where they are going on Facebook.

Usually people will post in the days leading up to their trip, “3 days until Mexico!” or some shit like that. They are doing this because they hope that others will see it and envy their life. However, when I see it, I think, “what a fucking nightmare.” In three days you’ll have to wake up at 6 a.m., get all your shit together, catch a cab to the airport, stand on long lines while waiting to go through security, have to wait another hour for your flight to board, wait another half-hour on the plane, sit through an entire flight in an uncomfortable seat while hoping your plane doesn’t crash, only to land and haul all your luggage out of the airport, wait for another vehicle to transport you to a hotel, wait in line to check-in, bring all your shit up to your room and unpack, then crash because you’re so tired from all the traveling and waiting in lines and hauling heavy luggage, oh, and throughout this whole process, you’ve spent like $500. How is that an enjoyable way to spend a day?

Oh, so you get to see all the sights? Well, I get to see the sights too. On my television. For free. And I don’t have to spend a full day traveling to get there.

The worst part is, when people arrive back home from traveling, they have that knowing look on their face that says they are more advanced than you. They’ve seen more of the world, so they are more cultural and widespread than you are. They’re better.

Well, fuck you. I can watch the Travel Channel for an hour and learn more about the world than you did.

4) Having a job.

another day at the office

Whenever people obtain a job, they always make a giant announcement on Facebook, similar to as if they just won the lottery. “I GOT A JOB!!!!!!” Then about 14 people will ‘like’ it.

Why is this something to be proud of? Hookers have jobs. They’re not that prestigious. Sure, it’s nice to have some money, and it’s nice to be contributing to society, but what having a job really amounts to is, well, the beginning of the end of your life. Upon working, you fall into a habit that you will remain in for the next several years.

It’s not like college, where you have a rotating class schedule, and then select completely new classes the next semester. It’s not an internship, where you finish after a few months. It’s permanent. Every day is the same.

It’s also restricting. Everybody has a talent and everybody is capable of doing something great. Having a job, however, prevents you from doing that. I would love to write a book or a screenplay some day. How the fuck can I ever find the time to do that? Maybe if I devoted time to that instead of this blog, I can manage it. But then what the hell would you all do without me?

Is having a job something I take for granted? Maybe. But, who cares? I’ve earned my job so I can afford to take it for granted.

When people post on Facebook how thrilled they are to have a job, I think people should lend their condolences instead of their congratulations. Because that’s it. Your life is over. It’s basically the same thing as getting married.

3) New York City.

"These streets will make you feel brand new..."

Or as lifelong Long Islanders call it, “The City.”

Now I don’t intend to start shitting on New York City. It’s a great city, one of the best in the world, even. But… it’s overrated.

It’s just so overdone. When you’re like 17 or 18, and you can finally start making day-trips without adult supervision, then yeah it’s cool. Or when you’ve just turned 21, and you can finally start partying and getting drunk in the city, then yeah it’s cool. But when you’re 24 or 25 and you’re still posting “out in the cityyyyy” as your Facebook status, well, that’s when I use the defriend option that Facebook has allotted me.

The city can be fun. There’s no doubt about that. But I feel like it gets to the point when people go to the city just for the sake of going to the city. And that is ridiculous. First of all, traveling to the city is annoying. It’s time-consuming and expensive; it costs $16.50 for a round trip ticket from where I live! Holy smokes! The one redeeming factor about the traveling is that you can drink on the train.

Also, the subways are a nightmare. There is nothing I hate more in life than waiting for a subway. There’s no official set times, so you never know if you’re going to wait for five minutes or fifty minutes. Additionally, I can stare at a subway map for 20 minutes and I still won’t know what the hell subway line to take. It’s like a goddamn maze!

That being said, subways are still a better option than cabbing. You have to deal with these crazy drivers who just came to America by boat yesterday, and they play shitty music, and then they expect you to give them a $20 tip. Get real, brah.

And then when you finally get to the bar, your reward is paying six dollars per beer. And even that’s a reasonable price for the city. Whoopdedoo!

I enjoy going to the city when I meet up with people who know the city. Meaning they know of places that others wouldn’t. Conveniently located places that don’t cost too much. That’s the secret. Otherwise, it sucks.

2) The summer.

not sure what a tire swing has to do with the summer, but let's go with it

Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking. “Wow, is this kid really going to bash the summer?! How big of an uber-pessimist can he be?!”

Well, shut up you hypothetical person. Start your own blog and you can talk about whatever the hell you want.

Sure, I love the summer. I like hot weather. I like wearing shorts. I like it not getting dark until 8 p.m. But I hate what other people think that the summer represents.

All winter, when it’s snowing and raining all the time, people will bitch on Facebook, “more snowwwww? When will it finally be summerrrrrr?”

And then, when we finally start getting 70-degree days, people will say, “Loving this weather, it’s summertimeeeeee,” with that stupid sunglasses smiley face at the end. Fuck that smiley face.

What, do these people expect that their life will undergo some type of renaissance come the summer? You’ll still work at your shitty job, still have your shitty problems, and still be your shitty self. The summer won’t change that. If you’re a natural complainer, you’ll still find plenty of things to complain about come the summer.

Also, people always talk about how much traveling they plan to do when the weather finally gets nice (see: #5). First of all, no, you won’t. Secondly, why do you need to wait until the summer to travel? Aren’t you supposed to travel in the winter, when the weather sucks, so that you can go to a place that actually has nice weather? Durrrrr.

99.9% of the time, your life will be exactly the same in the summer as it is in the winter, except for the fact that the weather will be nicer around you, and you’ll be wearing lighter clothes. Otherwise, you won’t take advantage of the summer, and you know it.

And, of course, come the summertime, everybody doesn’t shut the fuck up about the single most overrated thing in life…

1) The beach.

just look at all those people...

Burning hot sand.

Ice cold water.

Crowded with people.


The beach is the pure of essence of the phrase, “well, that sounded a lot better in theory.”

It always seems like a great idea to go to the beach. During the week, when you’re sick of your job (see: #4), it’s common to mention to your friend “Heyyy brah we should go to the beach on Sunday! We’ll be all hung over and shit and it’ll be perfect kidddd.” And then, inevitably, you don’t go.

But then one day, you do go. You have to plan this whole elaborate process where you make eight stops and pick everyone up, because let’s face it, you’re not going to pay full price for parking.

You always get there much later than you should. True beach-goers get to the beach no later than 10 a.m. Asshole poser beach-goers, like myself, get to the beach no earlier than 2 p.m. By then, the day is already shot.

Oh great, now you get to lay around, not go in the water because it’s too cold, and throw a football around! Basically, all things that you could have done at any open field. Except you wouldn’t wake up to massive sunburn the next day.

“Oh, but there’s so many hot chicks in bikinis at the beach!” Sure, all chicks who I won’t ever talk to, and neither will you. I’d be much better off just perusing Facebook and finding bikini shots of all the girls I went to high school with.

I went to the beach two summers ago because a friend of mine rented one of those giant “mushrooms” where you can hang out inside of them to stay out of the sun, and you can barbecue and drink beer in them. That was amazing and it’s by far the only time that going to the beach is truly worth it.

Otherwise, it’s just a giant waste of time. People post on Facebook when they’re at the beach… great, if you’re a guy, I don’t give a fuck. If you’re a girl, please post pictures when you get home. Otherwise, I don’t need to know about it.

And there you have it. The greatest list imaginable on the world’s most overrated things. There’s so much more, and I can really sit here all day and touch on all of them, but I have important things to do. Like play minesweeper on the computer.

Minesweeper, now there’s an underrated game. 😎

A lose-lose situation

Hello all and welcome to a special Father’s Day edition of the Weinblog. I truly hope that all the fathers out there had a nice day, and that everyone else had a mediocre to average day.

Apparently Mother Nature honored her own father today, giving us a beautiful and sunny Sunday. In just two days, summer will officially be upon us, or as I like to call it… the time when girls suddenly start posting bikini pictures on Facebook. I love the summer!

I’ve spent practically the entire day at home, watching sports, movies and TV shows. Basically the perfect day. Father’s Day doesn’t really have as much significance when you live at home and see your father every single day.

Speaking of sports, I just watched Rory McIlroy win the U.S. Open. He’s only 22 years old. Don’t you just love it when somebody younger than you accomplishes something amazing? I swear, if somebody younger than 30 accomplishes something that gains them positive international attention, then the media should be banned from revealing their age. It could only do bad things to the morale of the rest of the untalented, dull members of America… like me.

Anyway, as I was saying, today was a beautiful day, and it put a cap on what was a very nice weekend.

However, while I was out on Friday, a woman came up to me and asked me something that I will never understand. I’ll say what it was in a second, but allow me to preface it by saying that there is no worse question that a male can be asked. Because there is no right answer you can give. Anyway, so a woman comes up to me and asks:

“How old do you think I look?”

Fuck. That’s what my reaction is to being asked that question. Notice that I use the word “woman” instead of “girl,” because this woman was middle-aged. And honestly — albeit I had my drunk-goggles on — she looked very good for her age. But either way, this question sucks. And here’s why:

For starters, when you’re being asked this question, you know that the woman is obviously older than she looks, but she wants other people to think that she’s young. So, naturally, you’re probably going to guess an age older than what you actually think. However, that’s not what she wants to hear. She wants me to guess an extremely young age. So I lie. I say she looks like she’s 25.

Now that’s an obvious lie. She didn’t look anything resembling 25, and she knew I was lying. And this made her mad, because she wants an honest answer. So now I get blamed for trying to offer a compliment.

What the hell?! Why do woman do this? Finally, I told her that I’m not going to guess, because I can only lose in this situation, and then I told her that no matter how old she is that she still looks fantastic and that I would absolutely have sex with her. That seemed to make her happy. We didn’t have sex though.

And that is how you turn a lose-lose situation around. But girls, I think I speak for all men when I say, please stop asking that question. For good.

My other drunken night, Saturday, consisted of sushi, sake bombing and drunken karaoke. Not a bad combination if I say so myself. Personally, I detest the taste of sake. It’s my least favorite alcoholic beverage. One shot of it makes me want to vomit. Mixed with beer, however, I can bear it. And I did. Many o’ times.

As for drunken karaoke, I enjoy it. Unfortunately, I was not blessed with a pleasant singing voice. Quite the contrary. My voice sucks. So that’s why whenever I do karaoke in public, I have to be hammered. Despite several sake bombs and a lot of beer, I remember being at the bar at thinking that I wasn’t drunk enough to do karaoke.

Which is why I went straight to the bar and ordered a shot of Jack. That did it. The moment I took the shot, I said aloud “give me that karaoke book!” and immediately signed up.

At one point, I believe I sang the song “I Want It That Way” with my friends (girls picked it). Now this was tricky. But I think I handled it well. While I was singing, I made sure to glance at the screen before every line so that I didn’t give the impression to everyone that I know the words. Because, the truth is, I know every single word by heart. Every single word. But I couldn’t let that be known in public. So I made sure to pretend that I was learning each line on the spot before singing it. I’m a very smart man.

And that was my night, and basically my weekend. Oh, and there’s one thing I’m ashamed to admit. It’s a small thing, but, I always look at my text messages the day after drinking. It’s always fun to read the texts you sent out while in an inebriated state. Most of the time they offer me a laugh. Anyway, I noticed that I sent a text to myself. I sent a text with an idea that I could blog about later this week. That’s not the bad part. The bad part is that at the end of the text I wrote “lol.”

I wrote “lol” to myself. In a text message. I don’t even approve of the usage of that acronym in any situation. Let alone while talking to myself. I’m quite ashamed.

But it’s good to get that off of my chest. And now that I’ve done that, I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my Father’s Day. You know, for some reason, it’s occurred to me lately that I think I have the capability of being a very good father. I like kids. I’m good with kids, and I think I would be a pretty cool and chill dad. Of course, that is probably what every dad thinks.

I’m sure there are several people out there that would make the claim, and with reasonable cause, that I should never procreate. But, heck, you could say that about a lot of people.

Fortunately I am only 24 and don’t have to worry about this for a while. In fact it’s crazy to even think about now. I was just a child very recently. How can I create one?!

Although, my age is probably not the biggest deterrent for me to not consider having a child. There’s that other thing that’s a necessary part of the equation, what it’s called again? Oh yeah, a female.