Sunday, December 17, 2006

Have you noticed more whipper snappers around

Let me preface this entry by saying I AM NOT GETTING OLD.

Have you noticed more punks (aka whipper snappers) around lately. Young kids who think they are the funniest, most clever person alive? I have. They're always on the train talkin' all loud on their walkie talkie functions on their phones. It's a PHONE you little brat, just call them. Why the hell do phones have a walkie talking function on them? The technology is has been made obsolete by the very device that it's on.

I saw a couple of girls sitting on the floor of the subway the other day. That just burns my oil. That's right, it burns my oil. I've never said that before, but yet it came so naturally to me. That's how much it upset me. Look little girls, we all want to sit on the floor sometimes, but we don't because it makes everyone's life harder because they have to look out for you so they don't step on you. (okay, maybe not everyone wants to sit on the floor of the subway, but the point is I don't like having to pay attention to anything I don't have to pay attention to.)

As i type this I can't help but think that I am getting closer and closer to being a "get off my lawn" type old man. But I'm not and I'll tell you why. Because when I get to that age I'm going to be "Crazy Ol' Mr. D'Addato". Because I'll have a sign on my lawn that says something like "stay off the lawn or I will haunt your dreams" or "Beware of the boogie man, because he's real" or for the older kids i would put up a sign that says, "Stay off lawn! No one will miss you. Trust me". Plus I will have a back lit cut out image of me with glowing red eyes in the window.

Man I'm looking forward to doing all that stuff. I better get old soon. It's gonna be great.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Oh, You Said Exotic...

Am I the only one who thinks that people should be a lot more careful with their use of the word "exotic" in print. If you are anything like me, the first time you read the title to this blog you thought it said Erotic. I alway always alway see erotic when it says exotic. Which conjures up all sorts of crazy images when I see signs. Like, what the hell are Erotic Fish? Can I really get a cheap flight to a bunch of erotic locations? And specifically from today, I wonder how an Erotic Smoothy tastes. Now that I am thinking about, it's probably pretty disgusting.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Times Indians Won

Yeah, sure Indians got a raw deal. They lost their land. They were the victims of genocide (which again, is not funny). But they did win in two places:

Sitting - Go ahead, name another group that has a way of sitting named after them? None! You can sit Indian style or normal style, but that's it. You can sit in like 30 different way, but we honored them with a name.

Burial Grounds - You go anywhere near an Indian burial ground and some crazy shit is going to happen. Ghost will try to eat your kids. Your dead cat will come back and hiss a lot. Walls will tell you to move. An average burial ground is spooky but an Indian burial ground is like a super natural power crazy place.

So, you know, they got that going for them...and casinos.

(it's possible the Indian in Indian style sitting refers to the other type of Indians, the kind from India. If that is the case, oops. Still they have the Burial Ground thing.)

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Testing Something

Hey, I'm trying to get all modern like and test another way to blog. So if you see this and you're like, what? Why is he blogging but not writing about anything, well, it's because I am testing something.

And why can't you ever give me the benefit of the doubt. Seriously. I try really heard.

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Sunday, December 03, 2006

The Magic of Holiday Plastic

I am a complete believer in real Christmas Trees. As soon as you smell one you are instantly like, "damn, now that's frickin' Christmas" (I don't know why you swear so much). My grandfather had the ability to argue a $100 Christmas tree down to $15. That's my grandfather on my father's side. My grandparents on my mother's side had a fake tree. It was a nice little tree, at one point that is. Not by the time I was old enough to remember.

For some reason that I will never understand, every year my grandmother would take the tree out of the box, put it together and (and this is the unusual part in case you don't pick up on in) she would cut the tree to make it symmetrical. As far as I can tell, and please correct me if I'm wrong. but plastic does not grow. I mean, I've heard about a lot of advancement in plastics. But I don't think my grandparents had space age technology put in their Christmas tree. So each year the tree got smaller and smaller.

I once introduced the concept of labeling each branch so she would never have to cut it again but I was a child. I figured there was something that i just didn't understand. Now, 25 years later, I still don't understand.