How often does reality meet your expectations? If you're like most people, the answer is not very often. For some reason, events seldom seem to play out as we imagine they might. The reason, of course, is that there are a lot of variables in this equation we call life. Too many, in fact, to account for them all. And yet, perhaps naively, we continue to try. Painting pictures in our minds of the way life's supposed to be...establishing expectations as a matter of routine. And for what?
Expectations are byproducts of self-awareness - the construction of future events for the purpose of creating order. It's as if we feel the more we can predict about the way things will be, the more control we will have over the course of our lives. It's always about control. And yet it can be argued that the true order of things cannot be perceived by the human mind – ergo, the order we impose upon things is a false order. Further, we presume everything about the future based on a very limited, very human sensory experience. How myopic!
Right now an infinite number of gears are turning, all of which have an impact on all of the other gears. It is a brilliant and beautiful act of divine synchronization...one we can't even begin to comprehend. Countless variables computing tirelessly and simultaneously - a giant engine of universal cognition. If one thing about the future is certain, it is that the future is uncertain.
I have concluded that expectations should be avoided. They are distractions - the children of insecurity, and the mother of disappointment. We commonly tell one another to move on from yesterday so that we can better experience today. Likewise, would we not benefit from withdrawing ourselves from tomorrow in favor of a more current consciousness? Or is the blessing of imagination also a curse that both enriches our lives with great promise and limits our growth? Expectations, like our wildest dreams, limit us. They create borders in our minds that prevent us from achieving our full potential. Worse, dreams and expectations can discourage us when we fail to realize them.
Dream when you sleep. When you're awake, live.
Friday, January 05, 2007
THE FANTASTIC FANATIC
Here's a sweet clip that's been floating around for a while. Someone recently did us the courtesy of "translating" the subject's German to English for us. While it's fun to watch (and listen to) on its own merit, the rather loose translation is a fucking riot.
Chicago Cubs fans ought to get a real kick out of it...just be sure to gut it out until the end. Sums up life as a Cubs fan nicely in about 4 minutes.
Chicago Cubs fans ought to get a real kick out of it...just be sure to gut it out until the end. Sums up life as a Cubs fan nicely in about 4 minutes.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
INSECURITY
Here's a link to a site where you can make your own motivational posters. I posted a couple of my own special designs last year (you may recall) but refused to share the link because I didn't want you to be as cool as me.
I think sufficient time has passed that I can now share this with you...
Enjoy!
I think sufficient time has passed that I can now share this with you...
Enjoy!
SOLDIER MACHISMO
Soldiers are brave...but this guy takes the cake in my book. He's a Lieutenant who's refusing to go back to Iraq on the grounds the war is "illegal." And he may end up in a maximum security military prison for 6 years as a result.
Here’s an interview with the first commissioned U.S. officer to publicly refuse his deployment orders. This wasn't just a snap decision, either. You can tell this guy has thought a lot about it...and makes some pretty good arguments in his defense. Definitely worth a browse if you're looking to burn a few minutes while your afternoon crap percolates.
Here’s an interview with the first commissioned U.S. officer to publicly refuse his deployment orders. This wasn't just a snap decision, either. You can tell this guy has thought a lot about it...and makes some pretty good arguments in his defense. Definitely worth a browse if you're looking to burn a few minutes while your afternoon crap percolates.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
DEEP IN THE HEART
How was your New Years? Do anything fun? Me neither. Okay, that's a lie. G and I took a little trip and had a blast. If you think I'm going to waste my precious time telling you all about it, you know me pretty well...
I took a trip to Austin, Texas to visit some close friends and ring in 2007 with one of my favorite musical artists, and hometown favorite, Bob Schneider (whose link is in the sidebar). That dude jams, y'all. If you get a chance to catch him live, I highly recommend it. As for Austin, it's pretty damn hard to beat 72 degrees in late December...so I had a hot time on the merit of the weather alone.
This was my first visit to the Lone Star state capital, so we did all of the touristy things to do: took a tour of the Capitol building, snapped a bunch of pictures that didn't turn out, wandered the streets of Austin's historic downtown, stuffed our bellies with local cuisine (mostly barbecue and chipotle-infused you-name-it), investigated shopping boutiques in various districts, got lost, got drunk, and got arrested.
Arrested? No. Not really. We tried - but they don't arrest folks for just anything down there. Ask Dick Cheney. He shot a man in the face last year and the authorities responded like Texans shoot people in the face all the time. What they ARE serious about down there in Texas is drinking and driving. I got the impression it was a BIG problem from all of the signs and radio ads warning against it. It seemed every on-ramp to every major highway around Austin's city limits has a massive electronic light board threatening jail time for drinking and driving. We decided it would be in our best interest not to test them on this.
A couple things about Austin. Our trip was fantastic - but largely because we were visiting a number of good friends who helped make our stay a special one. Had we been on our own, I'm not certain Austin would have been as exciting a destination as we had anticipated. You've heard the expression, "Nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there." For me, Austin is probably the opposite: seemed to be GREAT place to live, but not exactly the best place to go on holiday. Unless you've got friends there, of course - which we did. And that made this New Years adventure a memorable one. At least the part of it I can actually remember. I'll know more about my New Years Eve once everyone uploads their digital pics and I can see what I was doing.
They like thinking of themselves as "weird" down there in Austin - but I didn't see a whole lot that was truly out of the ordinary. There were t-shirts, hats, stickers, and buttons everywhere we went that read: "Keep Austin Weird." I guess the locals don't like all the new blood spilling in and watering down their "cool" pool, so they promote "weirdness" almost as a branded heritage that's uniquely theirs. In truth, I see weirder every day right here in Chicago. I guess it all depends on what you're used to. Austin isn't "weird" so much as it is different from the rest of Texas. And that might be explained by its more liberal leanings. As a younger, hipper "college" town, it's ideologically out of synch with the rest of the state.
Here's something else you should know about Austin. Their baked beans are WAY different. I ordered them as a side several times and they're relatively dry and taste like chili seasoning. I was expecting sweet molasses gravy with sliced onions and thick bacon chunks...like I'm used to here in the midwest. I have to say, I didn't much care for the beans, which I'm sure my hosts were just fine with. Me and baked beans don't always agree with one another, and it's the folks nearby who always end up suffering. I actually unleashed a real doozy at the Whole Foods grocery store down there that had shoppers gsping and hacking in the aisles. It was brutal. A long, slow leaker that I had to work out of my jeans by taking long strides and patting out the trapped air between steps. When I sensed it was following me, we departed in a hurry. As we were pulling out of the parking lot, I'm pretty sure I saw a fleet of fire engines screaming their way down 5th toward ground zero. Nasty.
Speaking of the Whole Foods, I have to tell you, WOW. Austin's flagship store is simply amazing. I actually made the comment that it was almost worth moving down to Austin simply to be near it. It was THAT kick ass. Chicago has a couple of Whole Foods grocery stores. They're a little pricier than the other local chains because, in theory, a lot of the stuff there is better for you. Organic. All natural. Steroid and insecticide free. So it's earned a reputation as being the "health food" grocery store, which to me has always meant "flavor free food." But that is not the case with Whole Foods. In fact, a lot of their stuff actually tastes BETTER. And if you take the time to look at the labels, it's not all that healthy for you, either. At least not the stuff I'd actually pay money to eat.
Por ejemplo, our hosts insisted we purchase some of their "cowboy burger" patties. They were, simply put, the best burgers I'd ever tasted. Yes, even better than Fuddruckers. I know - hard to believe...but TRUE. I think the fact that they were pan-fried in a half stick of butter may have had something to do with that, but they were still damn tasty of their own accord. Loaded with jalapenos, bacon, garlic, onion, and cheese, every bite was a juicy taste explosion. Heavenly.
And that was just one food item. The entire store was magnificent. First off, it was ENORMOUS. They had winding aisles that weaved charmingly in and out of larger corridors. There were food stations and mountains of displays everywhere. Everything was cooked, packaged, stacked, and presented in excess. I saw a column of holiday pies so large they would never all be purchased - displayed entirely for effect. It was like visiting a museum celebrating America as the land of plenty. The produce section was so vibrant and colorful it looked like the Partridge Family bus had plowed into a farmer's market. There were manned stations everywhere offering more varieties of food than I knew existed. They had a sushi bar. A bakery. A butcher shop. It was almost too much for a food lover like me to handle. But that's when I felt a massive fart coming on and had to plan my impromtu exit strategy. I easily could have spent all day in there whipping my salivary glands into an anticipatory frenzy.
All in all, our trip to Austin was fabulous. Although if I go again it will be to see my friends, not the city. Oh yeah, and we saw a mullet. That, naturally, made the whole journey instantly worthwhile.
I took a trip to Austin, Texas to visit some close friends and ring in 2007 with one of my favorite musical artists, and hometown favorite, Bob Schneider (whose link is in the sidebar). That dude jams, y'all. If you get a chance to catch him live, I highly recommend it. As for Austin, it's pretty damn hard to beat 72 degrees in late December...so I had a hot time on the merit of the weather alone.
This was my first visit to the Lone Star state capital, so we did all of the touristy things to do: took a tour of the Capitol building, snapped a bunch of pictures that didn't turn out, wandered the streets of Austin's historic downtown, stuffed our bellies with local cuisine (mostly barbecue and chipotle-infused you-name-it), investigated shopping boutiques in various districts, got lost, got drunk, and got arrested.
Arrested? No. Not really. We tried - but they don't arrest folks for just anything down there. Ask Dick Cheney. He shot a man in the face last year and the authorities responded like Texans shoot people in the face all the time. What they ARE serious about down there in Texas is drinking and driving. I got the impression it was a BIG problem from all of the signs and radio ads warning against it. It seemed every on-ramp to every major highway around Austin's city limits has a massive electronic light board threatening jail time for drinking and driving. We decided it would be in our best interest not to test them on this.
A couple things about Austin. Our trip was fantastic - but largely because we were visiting a number of good friends who helped make our stay a special one. Had we been on our own, I'm not certain Austin would have been as exciting a destination as we had anticipated. You've heard the expression, "Nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there." For me, Austin is probably the opposite: seemed to be GREAT place to live, but not exactly the best place to go on holiday. Unless you've got friends there, of course - which we did. And that made this New Years adventure a memorable one. At least the part of it I can actually remember. I'll know more about my New Years Eve once everyone uploads their digital pics and I can see what I was doing.
They like thinking of themselves as "weird" down there in Austin - but I didn't see a whole lot that was truly out of the ordinary. There were t-shirts, hats, stickers, and buttons everywhere we went that read: "Keep Austin Weird." I guess the locals don't like all the new blood spilling in and watering down their "cool" pool, so they promote "weirdness" almost as a branded heritage that's uniquely theirs. In truth, I see weirder every day right here in Chicago. I guess it all depends on what you're used to. Austin isn't "weird" so much as it is different from the rest of Texas. And that might be explained by its more liberal leanings. As a younger, hipper "college" town, it's ideologically out of synch with the rest of the state.
Here's something else you should know about Austin. Their baked beans are WAY different. I ordered them as a side several times and they're relatively dry and taste like chili seasoning. I was expecting sweet molasses gravy with sliced onions and thick bacon chunks...like I'm used to here in the midwest. I have to say, I didn't much care for the beans, which I'm sure my hosts were just fine with. Me and baked beans don't always agree with one another, and it's the folks nearby who always end up suffering. I actually unleashed a real doozy at the Whole Foods grocery store down there that had shoppers gsping and hacking in the aisles. It was brutal. A long, slow leaker that I had to work out of my jeans by taking long strides and patting out the trapped air between steps. When I sensed it was following me, we departed in a hurry. As we were pulling out of the parking lot, I'm pretty sure I saw a fleet of fire engines screaming their way down 5th toward ground zero. Nasty.
Speaking of the Whole Foods, I have to tell you, WOW. Austin's flagship store is simply amazing. I actually made the comment that it was almost worth moving down to Austin simply to be near it. It was THAT kick ass. Chicago has a couple of Whole Foods grocery stores. They're a little pricier than the other local chains because, in theory, a lot of the stuff there is better for you. Organic. All natural. Steroid and insecticide free. So it's earned a reputation as being the "health food" grocery store, which to me has always meant "flavor free food." But that is not the case with Whole Foods. In fact, a lot of their stuff actually tastes BETTER. And if you take the time to look at the labels, it's not all that healthy for you, either. At least not the stuff I'd actually pay money to eat.
Por ejemplo, our hosts insisted we purchase some of their "cowboy burger" patties. They were, simply put, the best burgers I'd ever tasted. Yes, even better than Fuddruckers. I know - hard to believe...but TRUE. I think the fact that they were pan-fried in a half stick of butter may have had something to do with that, but they were still damn tasty of their own accord. Loaded with jalapenos, bacon, garlic, onion, and cheese, every bite was a juicy taste explosion. Heavenly.
And that was just one food item. The entire store was magnificent. First off, it was ENORMOUS. They had winding aisles that weaved charmingly in and out of larger corridors. There were food stations and mountains of displays everywhere. Everything was cooked, packaged, stacked, and presented in excess. I saw a column of holiday pies so large they would never all be purchased - displayed entirely for effect. It was like visiting a museum celebrating America as the land of plenty. The produce section was so vibrant and colorful it looked like the Partridge Family bus had plowed into a farmer's market. There were manned stations everywhere offering more varieties of food than I knew existed. They had a sushi bar. A bakery. A butcher shop. It was almost too much for a food lover like me to handle. But that's when I felt a massive fart coming on and had to plan my impromtu exit strategy. I easily could have spent all day in there whipping my salivary glands into an anticipatory frenzy.
All in all, our trip to Austin was fabulous. Although if I go again it will be to see my friends, not the city. Oh yeah, and we saw a mullet. That, naturally, made the whole journey instantly worthwhile.
BAD CARMA
As you may have already read, my car was hit by an old man driving a van a few weeks ago. Sucked. The bastard then decided to park his van right across the street - still bearing my paint on its side. Police were of little assistance because no one had witnessed the impact. And the insurance company has been slow to pursue an investigation because my $1,000 deductible covered most of the damage. I left a letter on the widshield of the van in an effort to coax the driver into fessing up, but to date have enjoyed no such luck. I decided I was just going to have to chalk it up to bad "carma."
And then the improbable happened.
Geri and I walked down the steps of her apartment and out onto the front stoop Christmas Eve day. On the concrete there, next to a dirty door mat, was a tiny sliver of gray plastic. I noticed it, but thought little of it until I stepped down the second set of stairs and opened the front gate facing Damen Ave. On the sidewalk outside the gate were strewn more plastic bits and pieces, all shimmering gray and metallic in the mid-morning sunshine. What the fuck is all this crap, I thought.
My eyes lifted up and I noticed that the car in front of me was missing its driver side side-view mirror. Upon second look, that car was my car. I walked into the street and looked at the driver's side. I had been hit again - the victim of a second hit-and-run accident in 11 days! This time, the driver of the other vehicle had been silver, and by the look of the damage, had been traveling at a pretty high rate of speed as it caromed out of control and into my poor once-new Passat. Looking up and down the block, there were pieces of glass, metal, and plastic everywhere. The mirror had completely shattered upon impact, sending car parts tens of feet in every direction...a tiny plastic slivers had made it all the way up the steps of neighboring condos.
Talk about bad carma.
I called my insurance company to report my second hit-and-run claim in 11 days. They asked the usual battery of questions, surely suspicious of my routine and activities. How does something like this happen twice in so short a period of time? The bad news only got worse. My $1000 deductible for the first collision did not apply to the second one. They were separate claims, and I would have to pay $1000 out of pocket for each of them before the insurance company would cover anything.
Two grand. Gone in the blink of an eye. Merry fucking Christmas. But I decided I would not let it ruin my holiday. I continued to shop and spend as though I still had all that money in the bank, fully confident that the universe would compensate me for my trouble in 2007.
I've also been parallel parking my "loaner" with two tires up on the curb to be on the safe side.
And then the improbable happened.
Geri and I walked down the steps of her apartment and out onto the front stoop Christmas Eve day. On the concrete there, next to a dirty door mat, was a tiny sliver of gray plastic. I noticed it, but thought little of it until I stepped down the second set of stairs and opened the front gate facing Damen Ave. On the sidewalk outside the gate were strewn more plastic bits and pieces, all shimmering gray and metallic in the mid-morning sunshine. What the fuck is all this crap, I thought.
My eyes lifted up and I noticed that the car in front of me was missing its driver side side-view mirror. Upon second look, that car was my car. I walked into the street and looked at the driver's side. I had been hit again - the victim of a second hit-and-run accident in 11 days! This time, the driver of the other vehicle had been silver, and by the look of the damage, had been traveling at a pretty high rate of speed as it caromed out of control and into my poor once-new Passat. Looking up and down the block, there were pieces of glass, metal, and plastic everywhere. The mirror had completely shattered upon impact, sending car parts tens of feet in every direction...a tiny plastic slivers had made it all the way up the steps of neighboring condos.
Talk about bad carma.
I called my insurance company to report my second hit-and-run claim in 11 days. They asked the usual battery of questions, surely suspicious of my routine and activities. How does something like this happen twice in so short a period of time? The bad news only got worse. My $1000 deductible for the first collision did not apply to the second one. They were separate claims, and I would have to pay $1000 out of pocket for each of them before the insurance company would cover anything.
Two grand. Gone in the blink of an eye. Merry fucking Christmas. But I decided I would not let it ruin my holiday. I continued to shop and spend as though I still had all that money in the bank, fully confident that the universe would compensate me for my trouble in 2007.
I've also been parallel parking my "loaner" with two tires up on the curb to be on the safe side.
HOLY CRAP!
Is it 2007 already? I feel like I went to sleep in 2000 and woke up 7 years later. How did we get here? Are we really this close to the year 2010? Am I really this old? Seems like just the other day we were celebrating the millenium. Suddenly we're looking at the second space odyssey. And I didn't fully comprehend the first one!
Anyhow, happy new year. Whatever happened last year, put it behind you. That was last year - and by almost all accounts, it was a pretty awful year. I've got a pretty good feeling about this year, though. I think you're going to like it. Most of it. Unless you believe Pat Robertson, who predicts a devastating terrorist attack here in the states with millions of casualties. There's lookin' on the bright side. Hey, Pat - how about having a little faith?
Anyhow, happy new year. Whatever happened last year, put it behind you. That was last year - and by almost all accounts, it was a pretty awful year. I've got a pretty good feeling about this year, though. I think you're going to like it. Most of it. Unless you believe Pat Robertson, who predicts a devastating terrorist attack here in the states with millions of casualties. There's lookin' on the bright side. Hey, Pat - how about having a little faith?
Thursday, December 21, 2006
HAPPY HOLIDAYS? WHY NOT!
This holiday season I’d like to share with you a few of my not-so-closely-guarded secrets to happiness. They’re not all that earth-shattering, but they do make sense. At least to me they do.
1.) Stay regular – constipation is a sure way to have a bad day. Gotta keep the pipes clean. I recommend a weekly cup of senna tea to flush out the exhaust and keep the engine running smoothly.
2.) Make time for yourself EVERY DAY. Even if it’s just a half hour right before bed (wink), make sure you’ve got a little time every day to do the things you enjoy. Read, do a crossword puzzle, take a bath, watch your favorite television program, go for a jog. Whatever it is you enjoy, set aside time for it and stick to the plan. Tell people “no” if you have to. You can’t very well be expected to please everyone else in your life if you can’t make yourself happy first. That's why clowns are so miserable. Didn't you know?
3.) Hang out with people you like. There are a lot of people in this world. Find the ones you get along with…the ones whose company you enjoy. The ones who make you laugh. The ones you feel comfortable with. These are your friends. Friends are like medicine when you’re sick, and multi-vitamins when you’re not.
4.) Love the people you don’t like. I know it sounds crazy, but I’m serious. Life’s too short to spend any time at all pissed off at people – especially people you know aren’t going to change. We all know people who spend their lives questioning the intentions and cursing the actions of others. What a miserably unconstructive way to spend the day! We’ve all got our faults, so accepting one another for the horrible creatures we are makes all the petty bullshit that much more bearable. Trust me. If something or someone rubs you the wrong way, the healthiest thing you can do is shrug it off. As a beloved, pot-smoking college roommate of mine used to say, “Acknowledge…and move on.” It’s a philosophy on life that’s as simple to remember as it is hard to live by.
5.) Accomplish something. Few things give us that sense of self-worth as when we actually FINISH something we started. It doesn’t have to be your life’s masterpiece. It just has to be something you started. Read a book someone recommends, even if it’s not something you’d normally read. Make that trip you’ve been promising someone you’d make (that’s what I’m doing next week!). Make a doctor’s appointment. Shave your head once and for all. Try sushi. Make up your mind to do something and do it. You'll feel sweet.
Enjoy your holidays - we'll be in touch soon...
AYNtK
1.) Stay regular – constipation is a sure way to have a bad day. Gotta keep the pipes clean. I recommend a weekly cup of senna tea to flush out the exhaust and keep the engine running smoothly.
2.) Make time for yourself EVERY DAY. Even if it’s just a half hour right before bed (wink), make sure you’ve got a little time every day to do the things you enjoy. Read, do a crossword puzzle, take a bath, watch your favorite television program, go for a jog. Whatever it is you enjoy, set aside time for it and stick to the plan. Tell people “no” if you have to. You can’t very well be expected to please everyone else in your life if you can’t make yourself happy first. That's why clowns are so miserable. Didn't you know?
3.) Hang out with people you like. There are a lot of people in this world. Find the ones you get along with…the ones whose company you enjoy. The ones who make you laugh. The ones you feel comfortable with. These are your friends. Friends are like medicine when you’re sick, and multi-vitamins when you’re not.
4.) Love the people you don’t like. I know it sounds crazy, but I’m serious. Life’s too short to spend any time at all pissed off at people – especially people you know aren’t going to change. We all know people who spend their lives questioning the intentions and cursing the actions of others. What a miserably unconstructive way to spend the day! We’ve all got our faults, so accepting one another for the horrible creatures we are makes all the petty bullshit that much more bearable. Trust me. If something or someone rubs you the wrong way, the healthiest thing you can do is shrug it off. As a beloved, pot-smoking college roommate of mine used to say, “Acknowledge…and move on.” It’s a philosophy on life that’s as simple to remember as it is hard to live by.
5.) Accomplish something. Few things give us that sense of self-worth as when we actually FINISH something we started. It doesn’t have to be your life’s masterpiece. It just has to be something you started. Read a book someone recommends, even if it’s not something you’d normally read. Make that trip you’ve been promising someone you’d make (that’s what I’m doing next week!). Make a doctor’s appointment. Shave your head once and for all. Try sushi. Make up your mind to do something and do it. You'll feel sweet.
Enjoy your holidays - we'll be in touch soon...
AYNtK
HOLIDAY FEAST
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
A HIT-AND-RUN CHRISTMAS
I got back from my trip to San Francisco last week in one piece to find that I could not say the same for my car.
I’d parked it on a side street outside of Geri’s place prior to leaving town on business, and while I was gone, some assclown clipped the rear driver-side quarter panel pretty good and drove off.
Was there a note? Please. Is there ever a note? Of course not. Who would leave a note unless they’d been caught red-handed?
Official estimates place the damage somewhere in the neighborhood of $1700. The good news is that I pay insurance for these types of things. The bad news is that I like to keep my insurance premiums low each month, which means a higher deductible – in this case $1,000. That’s out-of-pocket cost to me before the insurance company will even think about getting their checkbook out.
There’s never a good time for something like this to happen, but the holidays have got to be the worst time. In addition to the normal hustle and bustle of the season, the gift buying and wrapping, shopping, unbearably cold weather and unbearably slow traffic, now I have to deal with a fucking hole in the rear end of my car. A hole that, I discovered almost immediately, had been left by one of the neighbors – a maroon van always parks on the same street.
Needless to say, I marched right down to the police station to let them know I’d been the victim of a hit-and-run accident. I filled out a police report and asked them what I needed to do. I did not like what I heard next.
The way I understand it, as explained by the friendly folks at Belmont and Western (Precinct 19), is that anybody can drive around the city hitting anybody they want to and unless someone actually SEES it happen, it didn't really happen. Never mind all of the circumstantial evidence, physical evidence, and common sense evidence. Such as? Let’s see here. The van was witnessed as parked right behind my car on the morning the accident happened. That same afternoon it was parked on the other side of the street, and a huge gash bearing the van's paint color suddenly appeared on my car, which had not moved one inch. Further, the gash was the exact same size and shape as a hinge on the side of the van, which now appears to bear the same silver paint color that is missing from MY car! I didn’t have to call Matlock for help on this one.
But because no one actually SAW it happen, the police said they couldn’t do anything about it – a policy perhaps best summed up as “complete and utter bullshit.” They could do something about it if they wanted to. They could come inspect the damage and confront the driver of the maroon van. If they put just 15 minutes into investigating it, they’d be able to help “serve and protect” the interests of the people they say they serve and protect.
The fact is, they don’t WANT to help me, because they have more important things to be taking care of, like securing the perimeter of the Dunkin Donuts on Ashland and Wellington, and handing out parking citations to the absent-minded, but otherwise law-abiding, folks who don’t put enough change in the meters on Southport.
But I’m not that easily put off. We’re talking about $1000 here. That’s a lot of kick ass Christmas gifts for the people I love.
So I sat down and wrote a letter to the owner of the van – a letter I plan to leave on the windshield of his broken down piece of crap vehicle the next time I spy it riding curbside on west Oakdale. The letter even includes photographs of the damage, as well as the number of the police report I filed implicating his van in a hit-and-run accident.
I close the letter with my phone number and an appeal for him to call me with his insurance information so I don't have to pursue criminal charges. The idea is to let him know that *I* know he hit me…and hope better sense prevails (if not the fear of prosecution).
So we'll see what happens. He could just ignore it or call me up and tell me to fuck off, in which case I'm no worse off than I am now. Or he might just play ball and I'll have saved myself a grand.
Here’s the letter and some photos for your files. I’ll keep you posted on this friendly neighborhood quarrel as it unfolds.
**********************
December 20, 2006
Re: Illinois license plate #1122136
Dear Neighbor,
This vehicle was recently identified as having been involved in a hit-and-run accident at the west end of the 1900 block of west Oakdale.
On Wednesday, December 13th, 2006, the vehicle was parked on the north side of the west-bound, one-way street behind a silver sedan. Preliminary forensic evidence, including photographs, paint samples, and other metrics have revealed that the silver vehicle incurred damage between the daylight hours of 9:30 am and 3pm, and that the damage was sustained by this vehicle as it was moved into or out of a parallel parked space.
This letter has been drafted as a courtesy to let the owner of this vehicle know that a police report has been filed with the Chicago Police Department (RD# HM-774156) and an investigation into this incident will be forthcoming.
As you may be aware, hit-and-run offenses are felonies that can carry substantial penalties. Since a note was not recovered from the crime scene, you are encouraged to call me at [312.NUMBER] regarding this accident to prevent criminal charges from being filed.
We believe this is a matter best settled by insurance companies, and your cooperation will be greatly appreciated.
Sincerely,
AYNtK
Neighborhood Watch
I’d parked it on a side street outside of Geri’s place prior to leaving town on business, and while I was gone, some assclown clipped the rear driver-side quarter panel pretty good and drove off.
Was there a note? Please. Is there ever a note? Of course not. Who would leave a note unless they’d been caught red-handed?
Official estimates place the damage somewhere in the neighborhood of $1700. The good news is that I pay insurance for these types of things. The bad news is that I like to keep my insurance premiums low each month, which means a higher deductible – in this case $1,000. That’s out-of-pocket cost to me before the insurance company will even think about getting their checkbook out.
There’s never a good time for something like this to happen, but the holidays have got to be the worst time. In addition to the normal hustle and bustle of the season, the gift buying and wrapping, shopping, unbearably cold weather and unbearably slow traffic, now I have to deal with a fucking hole in the rear end of my car. A hole that, I discovered almost immediately, had been left by one of the neighbors – a maroon van always parks on the same street.
Needless to say, I marched right down to the police station to let them know I’d been the victim of a hit-and-run accident. I filled out a police report and asked them what I needed to do. I did not like what I heard next.
The way I understand it, as explained by the friendly folks at Belmont and Western (Precinct 19), is that anybody can drive around the city hitting anybody they want to and unless someone actually SEES it happen, it didn't really happen. Never mind all of the circumstantial evidence, physical evidence, and common sense evidence. Such as? Let’s see here. The van was witnessed as parked right behind my car on the morning the accident happened. That same afternoon it was parked on the other side of the street, and a huge gash bearing the van's paint color suddenly appeared on my car, which had not moved one inch. Further, the gash was the exact same size and shape as a hinge on the side of the van, which now appears to bear the same silver paint color that is missing from MY car! I didn’t have to call Matlock for help on this one.
But because no one actually SAW it happen, the police said they couldn’t do anything about it – a policy perhaps best summed up as “complete and utter bullshit.” They could do something about it if they wanted to. They could come inspect the damage and confront the driver of the maroon van. If they put just 15 minutes into investigating it, they’d be able to help “serve and protect” the interests of the people they say they serve and protect.
The fact is, they don’t WANT to help me, because they have more important things to be taking care of, like securing the perimeter of the Dunkin Donuts on Ashland and Wellington, and handing out parking citations to the absent-minded, but otherwise law-abiding, folks who don’t put enough change in the meters on Southport.
But I’m not that easily put off. We’re talking about $1000 here. That’s a lot of kick ass Christmas gifts for the people I love.
So I sat down and wrote a letter to the owner of the van – a letter I plan to leave on the windshield of his broken down piece of crap vehicle the next time I spy it riding curbside on west Oakdale. The letter even includes photographs of the damage, as well as the number of the police report I filed implicating his van in a hit-and-run accident.
I close the letter with my phone number and an appeal for him to call me with his insurance information so I don't have to pursue criminal charges. The idea is to let him know that *I* know he hit me…and hope better sense prevails (if not the fear of prosecution).
So we'll see what happens. He could just ignore it or call me up and tell me to fuck off, in which case I'm no worse off than I am now. Or he might just play ball and I'll have saved myself a grand.
Here’s the letter and some photos for your files. I’ll keep you posted on this friendly neighborhood quarrel as it unfolds.
**********************
December 20, 2006
Re: Illinois license plate #1122136
Dear Neighbor,
This vehicle was recently identified as having been involved in a hit-and-run accident at the west end of the 1900 block of west Oakdale.
On Wednesday, December 13th, 2006, the vehicle was parked on the north side of the west-bound, one-way street behind a silver sedan. Preliminary forensic evidence, including photographs, paint samples, and other metrics have revealed that the silver vehicle incurred damage between the daylight hours of 9:30 am and 3pm, and that the damage was sustained by this vehicle as it was moved into or out of a parallel parked space.
This letter has been drafted as a courtesy to let the owner of this vehicle know that a police report has been filed with the Chicago Police Department (RD# HM-774156) and an investigation into this incident will be forthcoming.
As you may be aware, hit-and-run offenses are felonies that can carry substantial penalties. Since a note was not recovered from the crime scene, you are encouraged to call me at [312.NUMBER] regarding this accident to prevent criminal charges from being filed.
We believe this is a matter best settled by insurance companies, and your cooperation will be greatly appreciated.
Sincerely,
AYNtK
Neighborhood Watch
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
TURBULENCE
Today I write you from not-so-sunny California. Traveling on business, I had about an hour to relax in my hotel room before heading out for another meeting. After treating myself to myself, I now find I have 54 minutes left to play with.
So yeah - traveling on biz. Not my bag, really. Being successful in business, no matter what you do, is all about relationships. Unfortunately, I tend to be more on cthe introverted side until I've got about three martinis in me. In other words, not very good at small talk. I'm more of a typer than a talker. If business meetings involved people sitting around texting clever comments back and forth, I'd probably have a shot at the cover of Forbes. But sit me down with clients over a relaxing dim sum lunch and I've got about as much to say as Paris Hilton. But my boss says I sell myself short - that I'm actually quite good with people, who tend to like me because I come off as genuine. And so many people in business are anything but.
I suppose that's why I'm here today. Meeting clients. Shaking hands. Smiling. Nodding. Laughing. Providing punchlines where awkward pauses paralyze uneasy conversation. I'm a social favor. A reliable sidekick. An able crutch.
Before we departed from O'Hare yesterday, I must admit I had my reservations about this journey. First off, it involved getting on a plane - which, as you know, I don't do very often. Second, there were some very clear signs from the heavens that this mission might not be in my best interest. Like when my boss's boyfriend picked us up to take us to the airport. We walked up to the car to get in and the back passenger side door was locked. So I tapped on the window to get their attention. The car slowly pulled away from me and rolled down the street. I stood there in the middle of the street with my bags wondering how far they would get before realizing they had just left without me. The answer, in case you are curious, is two blocks. I actually got a big kick out of that.
Then as we were preparing to board the airplane, the PA announcer at O'Hare International informs us that the Department of Homeland Security had just raised its threat level to orange. That has to be one of the top 5 things you don't want to hear as you are stepping onto an airplane. Right up there with: "Free samples of baked beans for all passengers."
Speaking of beans, about half way to San Francisco my entire mid section was swollen with gas. For some reason, sitting in that cramped position with a seat belt fastened for hours on end makes my entire gastrointestinal system cramp up. I tried to hold it as long as I could, but eventually couldn't any longer. I let out a "tester" to see how absorbant the cushions were. They tell you in the safety literature to use them as flotation devices should the plane land on water. I figured they must be able to contain a couple of long-winded farts for a couple of hours.
I was wrong, of course, and the plane began to fill with a rapidly spreading, putrid stench. A malodorous wind I actually came to enjoy, to be honest. There's just something about the smell of my own gas that I don't mind so much. You know how it is. Anyhow, the guy next to me leans over and says: "People who pass gas on planes ought to be hung."
Staring directly at the Time magazine in my hands I calmly replied, "Actually...I am."
I don't fly airplanes to make friends - another reason I'd never cut it in sales. Networking is for IT specialists.
But the trip is winding down and I do feel it has been a successful one. I've been in front of a lot of people who can now put my adorable face with my name when we converse via conference call. I'm told it makes a lot of difference in developing strong client-agency relationships. And I believe it. But I'm still not looking forward to the 5 hour flight back.
In fact, I'm getting stomach cramps just thinking about it. You smell me?
So yeah - traveling on biz. Not my bag, really. Being successful in business, no matter what you do, is all about relationships. Unfortunately, I tend to be more on cthe introverted side until I've got about three martinis in me. In other words, not very good at small talk. I'm more of a typer than a talker. If business meetings involved people sitting around texting clever comments back and forth, I'd probably have a shot at the cover of Forbes. But sit me down with clients over a relaxing dim sum lunch and I've got about as much to say as Paris Hilton. But my boss says I sell myself short - that I'm actually quite good with people, who tend to like me because I come off as genuine. And so many people in business are anything but.
I suppose that's why I'm here today. Meeting clients. Shaking hands. Smiling. Nodding. Laughing. Providing punchlines where awkward pauses paralyze uneasy conversation. I'm a social favor. A reliable sidekick. An able crutch.
Before we departed from O'Hare yesterday, I must admit I had my reservations about this journey. First off, it involved getting on a plane - which, as you know, I don't do very often. Second, there were some very clear signs from the heavens that this mission might not be in my best interest. Like when my boss's boyfriend picked us up to take us to the airport. We walked up to the car to get in and the back passenger side door was locked. So I tapped on the window to get their attention. The car slowly pulled away from me and rolled down the street. I stood there in the middle of the street with my bags wondering how far they would get before realizing they had just left without me. The answer, in case you are curious, is two blocks. I actually got a big kick out of that.
Then as we were preparing to board the airplane, the PA announcer at O'Hare International informs us that the Department of Homeland Security had just raised its threat level to orange. That has to be one of the top 5 things you don't want to hear as you are stepping onto an airplane. Right up there with: "Free samples of baked beans for all passengers."
Speaking of beans, about half way to San Francisco my entire mid section was swollen with gas. For some reason, sitting in that cramped position with a seat belt fastened for hours on end makes my entire gastrointestinal system cramp up. I tried to hold it as long as I could, but eventually couldn't any longer. I let out a "tester" to see how absorbant the cushions were. They tell you in the safety literature to use them as flotation devices should the plane land on water. I figured they must be able to contain a couple of long-winded farts for a couple of hours.
I was wrong, of course, and the plane began to fill with a rapidly spreading, putrid stench. A malodorous wind I actually came to enjoy, to be honest. There's just something about the smell of my own gas that I don't mind so much. You know how it is. Anyhow, the guy next to me leans over and says: "People who pass gas on planes ought to be hung."
Staring directly at the Time magazine in my hands I calmly replied, "Actually...I am."
I don't fly airplanes to make friends - another reason I'd never cut it in sales. Networking is for IT specialists.
But the trip is winding down and I do feel it has been a successful one. I've been in front of a lot of people who can now put my adorable face with my name when we converse via conference call. I'm told it makes a lot of difference in developing strong client-agency relationships. And I believe it. But I'm still not looking forward to the 5 hour flight back.
In fact, I'm getting stomach cramps just thinking about it. You smell me?
PHOTOSHOPPING SPREE
Here's a video that may help explain why so many people have a poor self-image. It's called Evolution and you gotta know it goes on all the time.
Friday, December 08, 2006
FUMBLING THE BALL
I've been offline a lot lately.
Working hard. You know how it is.
Taking charge. Running the show. Being all I can be.
Taking it to the streets. Being the ball. Rocking the Casbah.
Breaking Benjamins. Counting Crows. Whistling Dixie. Sitting on the dock of the bay. Kissing the ring. Making the donuts. Burning the midnight oil. Bringing home Kevin's bacon. Jumping the shark. Holding the line. Burying the hatchet. Raising the roof. Lowering the floor. Widening the walls. Expanding the corners. Singing the blues. Running the table. Spilling the beans. Pleading the fifth. Playing the fool. Joining the club. Honing in. Maxing out. Cornering the market. Collecting the rent. Searching for Bobby Fischer. Flying the coop. Paying the piper. Making the grade. Cutting the cheese. Folding the laundry.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've been busy doing other shit. And that means I have a lot to tell you...in due time, of course. Stick with me.
More to come.
Working hard. You know how it is.
Taking charge. Running the show. Being all I can be.
Taking it to the streets. Being the ball. Rocking the Casbah.
Breaking Benjamins. Counting Crows. Whistling Dixie. Sitting on the dock of the bay. Kissing the ring. Making the donuts. Burning the midnight oil. Bringing home Kevin's bacon. Jumping the shark. Holding the line. Burying the hatchet. Raising the roof. Lowering the floor. Widening the walls. Expanding the corners. Singing the blues. Running the table. Spilling the beans. Pleading the fifth. Playing the fool. Joining the club. Honing in. Maxing out. Cornering the market. Collecting the rent. Searching for Bobby Fischer. Flying the coop. Paying the piper. Making the grade. Cutting the cheese. Folding the laundry.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've been busy doing other shit. And that means I have a lot to tell you...in due time, of course. Stick with me.
More to come.
HAVE YOU EVER REALLY TAKEN A DUMP?
The phrase confuses me. I've left more than my share of dumps over the years, but I've never once so much as contemplated, for even a second, taking one. Where would I take it? And what would I do with it when I get it there? Sorry. I'm perfectly content leaving my dumps...wherever they may fall.
Good day!
Good day!
HOLIDAY TRADITIONS VIA SPAM
Here's a little humor that was sent to me this week from Hawaii Steve-O. In addition to a prosaic stream of porno bloopers and pin-up powerpoint presentations (most of which I know to delete without opening by scanning their filename), he's also good for something fun every once in a while - like this dandy tale.
It's a story explaining why we place an angel atop the Christmas tree every year. If you've ever wondered about that tradition, here's a little history by way of viral online storytelling.
************
When four of Santa's elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones, Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule.
Then Mrs. Claus told Santa that her Mom was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more.
When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth (Dasher, no doubt) and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where. More stress.
Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked, and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys. So, frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum.
When he went to the cupboard he discovered that the elves had hidden the liquor, and there was nothing to drink.
In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider pot, and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor.
He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw end of the broom. Just then the doorbell rang, and a very irritable Santa trudged to the door. He opened it and there was a little angel standing there holding a great big Christmas tree.
The angel said very cheerfully, "Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't it a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to put it?"
*****************
It's a story explaining why we place an angel atop the Christmas tree every year. If you've ever wondered about that tradition, here's a little history by way of viral online storytelling.
************
When four of Santa's elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones, Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule.
Then Mrs. Claus told Santa that her Mom was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more.
When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth (Dasher, no doubt) and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where. More stress.
Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked, and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys. So, frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum.
When he went to the cupboard he discovered that the elves had hidden the liquor, and there was nothing to drink.
In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider pot, and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor.
He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw end of the broom. Just then the doorbell rang, and a very irritable Santa trudged to the door. He opened it and there was a little angel standing there holding a great big Christmas tree.
The angel said very cheerfully, "Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't it a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to put it?"
*****************
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Friday, December 01, 2006
SNOW DAZE
Amazing how a little snow brings out the best in people. In case you couldn't pick up on the tone there, that was sacrasm. As you probably know, the midwest is getting hammered by its first big snowstorm of the season and, predictably, people are losing their minds. Most of it has to do with getting around...and the fact that you can't really get around. At least not with the ease you normally would - which is a joke in itself considering congestion on the roads these days.
This morning I woke up and looked out my 20th floor window at the Chicago skyline. It was shrouded in a white haze, like someone had just shook up our snowglobe and set it back down on the table. As I type this from the comfort of my desk, I watch the flurries turn to flakes, crisscrossing in mid air in their relentless assault on everything glass, concrete, and steel. Surprisingly, my drive in to the office was uneventful. Took me a few extra minutes to make the drive - so around 20 minutes instead of the typical 15...and only because I was driving slower than I normally drive (which many would consider slow to begin with). Even though the roads were relatively clear, I couldn't help but detect drivers were on edge. I heard a lot more car horns. I saw people making ill-advised decisions. A guy turning from the 90/94 off-ramp onto Lake Street nudged a pedestrian, who slammed his fist on the hood as he walked by. The window of the vehicle rolled down and some words were exchanged. It was not a pleasant morning commute.
And then what happens is that everyone shows up to work grumpy. Instead of everyone being thrilled that it's Friday, people are frustrated and anxious and tense. The snow is calming to watch - but if you have to deal with it in any fashion, it can be quite stressful. I parked in the garage across the street from my office this morning - which I never do. I figured it was worth the $9 to keep the car dry and off the street...and to guarantee A.) it wouldn't get snowed in, and B.) it would start at 5pm when I leave.
And so here I sit. Watching the snow fall. Barely able to see the buildings across the street for this veil of streaming cotton. Wondering how long it will take me to get home tonight. But I accept it as something I can't change - and why would I want to? Snow is part of the beauty of life. Weather is a big part of the human experience. We give it a huge chunk of time on the nightly news. We allocate space on the back pages of newspapers. We discuss it with strangers when nothing else comes to mind. Climate is something people of a region have in common - it should bring us closer together, not whip us into a blustery frenzy. Snow is our common enemy today. a beautiful, majestic foe with billions of tentacles. But she can be defeated - if we arm ourselves with peace, love, and Gap.
Damn, that commercial is stuck in my head.
Shit break.
This morning I woke up and looked out my 20th floor window at the Chicago skyline. It was shrouded in a white haze, like someone had just shook up our snowglobe and set it back down on the table. As I type this from the comfort of my desk, I watch the flurries turn to flakes, crisscrossing in mid air in their relentless assault on everything glass, concrete, and steel. Surprisingly, my drive in to the office was uneventful. Took me a few extra minutes to make the drive - so around 20 minutes instead of the typical 15...and only because I was driving slower than I normally drive (which many would consider slow to begin with). Even though the roads were relatively clear, I couldn't help but detect drivers were on edge. I heard a lot more car horns. I saw people making ill-advised decisions. A guy turning from the 90/94 off-ramp onto Lake Street nudged a pedestrian, who slammed his fist on the hood as he walked by. The window of the vehicle rolled down and some words were exchanged. It was not a pleasant morning commute.
And then what happens is that everyone shows up to work grumpy. Instead of everyone being thrilled that it's Friday, people are frustrated and anxious and tense. The snow is calming to watch - but if you have to deal with it in any fashion, it can be quite stressful. I parked in the garage across the street from my office this morning - which I never do. I figured it was worth the $9 to keep the car dry and off the street...and to guarantee A.) it wouldn't get snowed in, and B.) it would start at 5pm when I leave.
And so here I sit. Watching the snow fall. Barely able to see the buildings across the street for this veil of streaming cotton. Wondering how long it will take me to get home tonight. But I accept it as something I can't change - and why would I want to? Snow is part of the beauty of life. Weather is a big part of the human experience. We give it a huge chunk of time on the nightly news. We allocate space on the back pages of newspapers. We discuss it with strangers when nothing else comes to mind. Climate is something people of a region have in common - it should bring us closer together, not whip us into a blustery frenzy. Snow is our common enemy today. a beautiful, majestic foe with billions of tentacles. But she can be defeated - if we arm ourselves with peace, love, and Gap.
Damn, that commercial is stuck in my head.
Shit break.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
GET IN LINE
Torn up over which game console to buy for your kids this holiday season? Check out this handy guide provided by the folks at the Onion.
A SPOONFUL OF SUGAR
Everyone's entitled to a cranky day. I know I have my share of them. Even the 6-year-old H-Man will wake up in a funk from time to time, as he did this morning. I remember flopping about in my sheets on school mornings, dreading the thought of a long day in class. The shortened days of November have a way of depressing even the most cheerful of children. It's hard to get excited when it's cold, dark, and gray outside. Getting the H-man motivated was going to require a heavy dose of good cheer.
"I think you're going to want to get up soon, do you know why?" I asked him.
"Why?" he asked from beneath the comfort of a heavy pillow.
"Because today is going to be the best day ever."
"No it's not," he rebutted, as though the suggestion were another one of my ludicrous overstatements. Anyone who's read AYNtK for any length of time is familiar.
"Yes, it is. I just know it is."
"Today is going to be the worstest day," he shot back.
"That's not even a word!" Geri shouted out from the closet.
"Actually, H. Today is supposed to be the bestest day," I said in his native firstgradese.
He rolled over, getting the sense that I just might be serious.
"It's true," I continued. "And the reason is because of all the great things that could happen today. I have no idea what they are, but there are tons and tons of great things just waiting to happen. Stuff I can't even imagine, they're so good. And I need to be out there to enjoy them all. I'll tell you what. I'M excited about today because something very fun is going to happen. I can feel it. Yep. Today could be the best day ever - and I am not going to miss it." I slapped the edge of the mattress a couple of times and walked off confidently.
Three minutes later the H-Man was in the shower.
And now, as I sit here at work, I find myself hoping nothing bad happens to the little guy today or he'll never believe another word I say for as long has he lives.
"I think you're going to want to get up soon, do you know why?" I asked him.
"Why?" he asked from beneath the comfort of a heavy pillow.
"Because today is going to be the best day ever."
"No it's not," he rebutted, as though the suggestion were another one of my ludicrous overstatements. Anyone who's read AYNtK for any length of time is familiar.
"Yes, it is. I just know it is."
"Today is going to be the worstest day," he shot back.
"That's not even a word!" Geri shouted out from the closet.
"Actually, H. Today is supposed to be the bestest day," I said in his native firstgradese.
He rolled over, getting the sense that I just might be serious.
"It's true," I continued. "And the reason is because of all the great things that could happen today. I have no idea what they are, but there are tons and tons of great things just waiting to happen. Stuff I can't even imagine, they're so good. And I need to be out there to enjoy them all. I'll tell you what. I'M excited about today because something very fun is going to happen. I can feel it. Yep. Today could be the best day ever - and I am not going to miss it." I slapped the edge of the mattress a couple of times and walked off confidently.
Three minutes later the H-Man was in the shower.
And now, as I sit here at work, I find myself hoping nothing bad happens to the little guy today or he'll never believe another word I say for as long has he lives.
Monday, November 20, 2006
KRAMER JUMPS THE SHARK
Wow. This is really bad. Michael Richards, the frizzy-haired comic actor who played Kramer on Seinfeld, was caught on tape making a complete ass out of himself.
On stage.
Apparently, he was getting heckled by a couple guys at a recent stand-up comedy show at the Laugh Factory when he completely lost all control and made a number of incredibly insensitive racial comments about the hecklers.
I personally think heckling sucks, but it doesn't sink to this level.
Be warned, the link is vulgar in its depiction of Michael Richards ceremoniously ending his own career. Click on the movie link to view the whole thing yourself. I hope he made a call to Mel Gibson's publicist after this shocking performance, because he's going to need a PR miracle to survive this Apocalytpo stumble.
On stage.
Apparently, he was getting heckled by a couple guys at a recent stand-up comedy show at the Laugh Factory when he completely lost all control and made a number of incredibly insensitive racial comments about the hecklers.
I personally think heckling sucks, but it doesn't sink to this level.
Be warned, the link is vulgar in its depiction of Michael Richards ceremoniously ending his own career. Click on the movie link to view the whole thing yourself. I hope he made a call to Mel Gibson's publicist after this shocking performance, because he's going to need a PR miracle to survive this Apocalytpo stumble.
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