So we finished the entire Sopranos series and to celebrate that fact, I'm going to share an amusing compilation of my favorite Sopranos character, Peter Paul Gualtieri, also known as Paulie Walnuts.
Heh. He-heh.
I hate McAfee anti-virus. It may force me to reinstall XP.
To Everyone: Don't use their products.
To McAfee: Shove it up your e-ass.
No.
The area that surrounds my place of business can sometimes be frequented by transients. In my estimation, it is due to the proximity of Union Station, which as you can imagine, is a hub for transportation. One can ride the rails, the subway, or buses with relative ease, so naturally you’ll find all sorts of people around, including the poor and unfortunate.
Before I begin telling my story, let it be known that I’m a huge proponent for solving homelessness. The idea that someone is without shelter is very sad to me and I feel we fail as a species, for allowing it to happen. War veterans are out on the streets as well as children. It’s shameful that in a country where one can buy a 60lb. sundae or a 12lb. pizza, one can also starve. My feelings about homeless people being established in a public manner, let’s proceed.
Union Station is a great place to get a cup of coffee and a bagel. Since my coffee embargo of 2004, I’m reluctant to indulge in a cup of Joe. Tea for me. So each morning, I travel to Union Station to fuel up and this morning was not different. On my way over, I’m asked for change by a person without means at least once a week. In recent weeks, it has been the same unlucky person a couple of times of week; the same person I gave five dollars to a month ago. The same person I’ve not given money to since.
“Can you spare some change?”
“Sorry.”
A week later:
“Can you spare some change?”
“Sorry man, I can’t.”
A week after that:
“Spare some change?”
“No can do, sorry.”
Another week passes:
“Can you possibly spare some money?”
“Sorry.”
That’s been the exchange until this morning; a morning where life was going to throw me a curve.
“Can you spare me a couple of dollars, sir?”
“Sorry, I can’t.”
“Man, you NEVER have change to give!”
In a tone less than polite, more accusatory, this guy was expressing his frustration. Inside, I felt a well of anger rise up in a quick, but gentle manner, to the point where time stood still. My mind raced and contrived the following:
“Motherf*cka, YOU are the one who never has change. That’s why you’re ALWAYS askin’ for some. ALWAYS. You’d think you would have money because you have NO overhead. You have no bills. You don’t pay rent. You don’t pay income taxes. And it seems like all your meals are f*ckin’ paid for.
I went to school. I busted my ass at a federal job. I broke my ass to get to where I am now… and I don’t have money. Bills for days. I should be asking YOU for money. Do you have a couple of bucks I can have, asshole? No? You should budget better. Dickhead.”
One of Adrian’s Rules of Life is – “Never provoke someone who has nothing to lose. You’ll end up dead.” So applying that rule, I said nothing and walked away. One day, I’d like to think that we all have brass balls like that guy, but we use them in a way that could be categorized as intelligent.
For the record: I’m not ashamed or regretful that I gave the guy money in the first place. No good deed… but screw it.
This is the view from my office window (sort of... the terrace, to be specific). We're going to see the first rain in about 9 months out here and I'm happy about it. Rain it cathodic no matter how many people whine about it. Don't like rain? Move here.
...will harm you.
First, this show is the worst on television. Second, Sherri Shepard should not be on television because she's stupid. Third, Elizabeth Hassleback should not be on television because she's stupid. Don't watch this show.
Anyone who doesn't consider the shape of the planet they live on, during the course of their life should be sterilized.
Man, I think I’m coming down with a cold. I’ve got that hazy, burning feeling behind my eyes and sinuses. Worst of all, I don’t have sick leave – it’s called “being a new employee.” My only alternative, outside of not working and not getting paid, is to show up at work for a few hours, then go home. This will result in me being compensated for the day. I’m not a fan of getting paid a full day when I don’t work one, but what can I do? Not my fault.
Emergen-C and water has been on the diet today. I ran out of the Tangerine flavor, so I’m stuck with the Strawberry. Bland Strawberry. People who have tried it know exactly what I’m talking about.
Taking the train to work has allowed me to think even more about life’s quandaries. Recently, I consider the lives of others and how they must view themselves. For instance, there was a woman on my train this morning with four children, two of which were too young to walk. The other two in grade school. And none of them in a good mood.
I relinquished my seat for one of her little ones, as I figured a little bit of comfort would go a long way for her.
A handful of questions did cross my ever-working mind: “Was she alone? A single mother? Why isn’t anyone helping her? I wonder what she thinks about her situation. Is she depressed? Does she consider herself successful in life?”
Let’s be clear: success is relative.
A man who washes cars for a living may be very content with his life and may determine himself to be a success; while a millionaire may consider himself a failure.
But how does this woman perceive herself? I wonder about that. In my supposition, I immediately feel sorrow as I explore the thought that she’s disappointed with life. The more I thought about it, the more I became depressed this morning.
Of course, the world of psychology would tell you that it wasn’t her that was disappointed in her life, but it was actually me – I was projecting my own sadness on her. Perhaps there is some truth to that.
I’m not disappointed with my life – I’ve accomplished quite a bit and there’s pride to be found in that. I’m perhaps disappointed in some choices I’ve made, over the years, which have led to mistakes. And I don’t find a whole lot of solace in thinking: “It could be worse…” What does help me is thinking about the future and what I plan to do.
The human beings greatest asset is also our greatest curse. Our ability to rationalize and experience emotion will be our ultimate downfall. We’re far too complex an animal as a result. We know what we need, but we confuse it for what we don’t. We carefully attempt a balance between our heart and our mind, to superfluously catastrophic ends. That’s life.
So I ask myself: “Am I successful?”
My answer: “I’m doing okay.”
I’ll end the melancholy by saying: I’m going to buy some Nyquil and I hope that mother of four, this morning, got to where she needed to go.
It’s been a while since I actually wrote something rather than post a funny video from YouTube. Writing time has evaded me since I started the new gig at First5LA and recently, I’ve found myself to be too busy and thusly, too tired to do much outside of watch the Sopranos and kill things on the internets. As of this very moment (9/14 2:40PM), I’m beat. I did have a great lunch with my girlfriend, and of course, my heart wishes I had went home with her instead of returning to the office. Awww. I know.
My girlfriend will rent me out for $300 an hour, ladies. I’m worth almost every penny. Ask her.
Now that I can’t rely on YouTube for this entry, what shall we discuss? Politics, especially recent political stories, will cause sadness and anger. I don’t feel like talking about movies right now, either, as all I’ve been watching is that HBO show about New Jersey mafia peoples. There’s nothing worth talking about in the world of music, because current music is like a number two pencil in the ear. Television blows.
Sportswise, the New England Patriots got into trouble for cheating – they were using a videocamera to spy on the other team’s locker room during shower time. $500,000 fine to the “head” coach and they can’t pick from the draft next year or something. Idiots.
I’m geekily awaiting the arrival of some videogames in the next few weeks. One of which has been in the works for eight years or so. Goddamn is right.
Apple decided to release a new version of the iPod, making my version as important as used staple. I also came to the realization that video on my iPod is f*cking pointless. My arms get tired from holding the thing close enough for me to see it… or my neck gets sore from leaning forward. The new iPod has a touch screen, which means you can buy a protective cover for it… Apple is officially a stupid company to me. Stupids.
I think I’m going to make this entry all about rants. Here we go…
[Jerry Seinfeld intro] Children of celebrities. Whhhooo arreee these people? Why do we care? Jerry Seinfeld isn’t that funny, so forgive that last part. But let’s talk about Dannilynn, that little girl that Anna Nicole gave birth to before Anna Nicole took the pharmaceutical bus to Neverland. This child recently had a birthday for her first year alive, that was more elaborate and “happening” than any birthday I’ve ever had. And her birthday was treated, by the entertainment media, as a real event.
What a bunch of unfiltered bull*hit.
First, who is she? She’s the embattled daughter of a drug abusing nitwit blonde. Look, I’m not saying Anna Nicole was a bad person. I’m just saying she’s not a pillar of society. And her child… has no business being in the limelight.
Second, why is a one-year-old experiencing a huge party? Why? She’s not going to remember it. Her mind hasn’t grown enough for her to comprehend not sh*tting herself, let alone what a gift means. Or what a party is. Or what an open bar is. She’s done NOTHING in her life to DESERVE a huge party. Nothing. The entire event was a crime against society. A selfish crime for which the only punishment is beating with yard sticks and frying pans.
I don’t understand why parents throw these expensive shindigs for young children who have no idea what is going on. Well, I do understand. They throw the parties for themselves. Stupid ass parents with too much money and very little understanding of the world around them… procreating.
Why not spend that money and time on someone who has done something for society. Not someone who fills up a diaper (yes, I mean you Jerry Lewis!).
Since we’re discussing celebrities, this whole Kanye West vs. 50 Cent album selling war is about as interesting as a bowel movement. It’s all marketing. Here’s the story, their albums came out on the same day (as if that wasn’t planned) and 50 Cent (Hack #1) said that if Kanye West (Hack #2) outsells him, he’s going to retire (as if that wasn’t planned either). Who cares?! We’re just going to on the internets and download their sh*tty albums on a Torrent site or eMule or something illegal.
Let me give both marketing teams some advice – come up with a promotion that means something. Here’s how you do it: Kanye West and 50 Cent are going to release both hacky albums on the same day. Whoever is outsold, kills themselves. Now we’re talking about fan participation. If I knew that either Kanye West or 50 Cent were going to shoot themselves if they didn’t sell any records, I may buy an album.
I’d call it DeathDuel 2007!
Speaking of death, that Britney Spears is one hell of a whack job. I dance better than she does after a weekend gin and Windex bender. People accused her of being fat. I didn’t think she was fat. She’s not fat at all. She’s just a mess.
Since I’m giving advice to marketing idiots and publicists, here’s my advice to the stressed publicist for Britney Spears: hold a press conference and announce Britney is mentally ill. Or possibly, mentally retarded. Say goodbye to all the judgmental celebrity magazines and television shows critiquing her parenting skills and looks. NO ONE… and I mean NO ONE… can make fun of the retarded. NO ONE. It’s mean.
Stephon Marbury of the New York Knicks is retarded and no one makes fun him. It’s not nice. That retard can play some basketball, man.
I’d put together some funny pictures with hilarious captions but I’ve been writing for 10 minutes and I’m exhausted.
My parents are going to adopt a friend of mine and his wife because his parents are turning out to be bad Jews.
Speaking of which, Jerry Lewis hasn’t been funny in about 40 years. His telethon is amusing, only because the kids he’s helping have more talent than he does. What a ignoble, train wreck that guy is.
Kathy Griffin apparently offended Christians the other day when she mocked the acceptance speeches where award winners thank Jesus. She told Jesus to “suck it.” Now the Catholic League has their rosaries wedged up their sanctimonious asses. Anything to forget the fact you had priests raping children and that you had to pay out several hundred million to make that disappear I guess.
Catholics and Christians… get over yourselves. Jesus wasn’t offended. He told me so after he promised me that he’d kill Kanye West. Jesus Ortega is a great guy. Whips up the best goddamn carne asada burrito you’ve ever had. Goddamn.
And O.J. Simpson apparently held up some guy for sports memorabilia. There’s no real effective response to that… so I’m going to wish it was 5 o’clock.
