Blow

My friend Nick (OMG!!! He plays guitar in Stellar Kart!!!) called me out on not updating my blog in five weeks for all the world to see on the ol' facebook by telling me that certainly something interesting had to have happened in that time. Sure, I went to New Zealand. And, sure, my position at job #1 was "eliminated". And, sure, last Wednesday night our entire weekend's stock of flowers froze causing the most righteous bit of insanity I have ever encountered there. And, sure, my mom came to visit. All of these would have made great blog entries but I am far too lazy to go back and record them in written form... Luckily, I have a story from this morning already. It's not even 8 o'clock in the morning yet.

I was in the middle of a wonderful dream and, as always, my phone was on. I had an interview with a recruiter at a staffing agency for an HR position this morning and I do like the occasional/semi-frequent text message from an inebriated friend especially when it happens on a Sunday night. Right in the middle of my dream, long about when I was about to fistfight the Incredible Hulk on top of Mt. Everest while Asia played "Heat of the Moment" in the background, my phone rang. I rolled over, saw a local number on my caller ID, and answered.

Super sultry mystery voice: "Hi, Stephen?"

Me: "Yeeeeeees?"

Super sultry mystery voice: "Hi! This is Karen from Randstad staffing. I'm calling about our meeting this morning!"

Me: "Oh, great! Yeah, I went online last night and --"

Karen the super sultry recruiter: "Well, that's what I wanted to talk about. I've reviewed your resume a little further and it looks like you're overqualified for this position."

Me: "For the HR position?"

Karen the recruiter who used to be super sultry and now had merely become just some chick on the phone: "Yeah... I don't want to waste your time by bringing you in for an interview for this position if it's not going to be a good fit."

Me: "That's cool. I've got some trivia questions to write this morning anyway."

Some chick on the phone: "Trivia questions?"

Me: "Yeah... And I think I'm gonna watch a movie. It sounds like a pretty full morning, right?"

Some chick on the phone [after a moment of silence]: "Actually... Wait... What movie?"

Me: "Blow. It's about cocaine. "

A part of me wonders why I'm not working today.

The Wonder Years

I was at 3Crow on Friday night. This is in no way unusual but since my evening started on a rather sour note I figured that an Octoberfest or two would have to cheer me up at least a bit. What? You've never had an Octoberfest?! If it weren't before 8 in the morning, I'd implore you all to walk up to the nearest pub, plop yourself down, and order one. It's what really defines autumn for me. That and the respite from southern heat.

But the Octoberfest more so.

Let me set the scene for you... There's me, Pickering Penguin, Karen, Timmy, Cori and Cori's friend Kris. Kris is the catalyst to the story. And if any of my blog readers happen to be from the 'greater' Jonesboro, Arkansas, area you may recognize her as part of the on air broadcasting talent of KAIT's local news team. Being on television on a, well, daily basis, one might expect her to act with a little more tact in regards to this story.

We were sitting next to one of the open bay garage door windows; our table. Kris, who at this point in the evening was drunk on a turkey on rye sandwich, must really have been enjoying her visit to Nashville. She kept talking about how all the guys in Nashville were "soooo hot!" and how I was "soooo funny!" A younger me would have been pretty stoked about these phrases but I was waiting for the dreaded "boyfriend" word which reared its ugly head about an hour into the evening -- thankfully, I hadn't ordered her an Octoberfest yet leaving more for me and saving me from the inevitable sinking stomach feeling. That's planning right there, kids.

A guy in his mid- to late-30s walked on the sidewalk past our open window. Kris, rather loudly, stated "Hey! That looks like somebody famous!" I don't know if that turkey and rye sandwich was 80 proof or if she had never been out in a city larger than Jonesboro, Arkansas, before... Whatever it was, when a really good looking woman whom you assume may be single and has used the words "hot!" and "funny!" you at least act interested in what she has to say. Unfortunately, (you and) I live in a world where the word "famous" still means something when talking about people.

In the interest of full disclosure, I must tell you that I had had a few Octoberfests by this point in the evening. So, when I heard the word "famous" and being the helluva guy that I am and trying to be genuinely interested in the conversation, I turned and looked. I scanned the sidewalk and expected to see... Oh... I don't know... Robert Plant. He's been known to come into 3Crow from time to time. All I saw was that same guy in his mid- to late-30s outside. I turned back to Kris and asked "Which guy? That guy?" Kris was utterly convinced that it was someone of significance and/or importance. I was not.

This wouldn't be a great story unless I put at least one foot in my mouth. It wouldn't be an even greater story if I confused the hell out of someone in it. So here goes...

I turned my head back out towards the sidewalk and scanned. I turned back to the table... "That guy there? He looks like Wayne from The Wonder Years." In my year of writing trivia questions and my many long years of watching TV (especially classic shows) I've got quite the laundry list of TV actors names imprinted in my brain. Jason Hervey is no exception for better or for worse.

Damnit. Not a few seconds later, a hand reached through the open garage window. "Hi! I'm Jason Hervey." Now, barring the extremely unlikely event that a Jason Hervey look-a-like with an encyclopedic knowledge of TV shows from 20 years ago was in Nashville and knew who the hell Jason Hervey is, I had to take him at his word. There was no other way to play this one. Here's a guy who's made more money in his life by playing a jerk [HE'S LIVED THE DREAM!] calling me out on calling him out for being a has-been. What do I respond with? "Nice to meet ya. I'm Peanut."

If there's any way to stop someone dead in their tracks, that's the way to do it. And that's the way I did it. At least he didn't get mad. Hell, he didn't even, as the song puts it, stand up and walk out on me.

If only I could have met Winnie Cooper instead:

But I'll take the taste of shoe... Sometimes that's the way it is.

Heidi Montakingherclothesoff

I wish I understood how people can sleep in. Anytime that I make it past six in the morning is a major accomplishment for me. I feel like I'm missing something in life if I'm asleep much past then. Also, waking up early gives me a really good chance to get an awesome free wi-fi signal from one of my neighbors. It just works better in the early hours. I don't know how. I'm not a scientist. Or a guy who shows up late to install your cable.

This morning, obviously, is no exception. There was, however, a catalyst to me being awake this early. That catalyst, of course, was Prince's Hot Chicken. It's heaven on the way in but burns like hell on the way out. Sometimes it burns for 45 minutes straight. And by "sometimes" I mean "all the time".

As I'm sitting in bed, patiently waiting for what's sure to be the next get-up-and-run-to-the-bathroom-moment-of-the-morning, I decided to find out what's going on in the world. With my semi-legally acquired internet signal, I hopped on over to google and one of the lead stories is Heidi Montag's sex tape. See how I got from uncontrollable bowel movements to a hot blonde in one [crap... gotta run to the bathroom real quick] paragraph? I think that's pretty good. And yet every time I apply for a writing gig/job, I'm told that my style doesn't really match what they're looking for. Or maybe it's because I start sentences with words like "and" and then end them with words like "for". Who knows?

So back to the sex tape.

Wait... You don't know who Heidi Montag is? Let me spare you the trouble. She was on this reality show on MTV called The Hills and it was cut scene of traffic after cut scene of traffic and then some 'drama' involving some really good-looking people laying on a beach talking about who they hooked up with the night before. Actually, that sounds an awful lot like a relationship I was in about 4 years ago. Minus the beach. Needless to say that if she and I couldn't make it, what with her hooking up with other dudes on a relatively regular basis, what hope is there if cameras are involved? Which brings us to the present.

Heidi and her ex-cro-magnon-husband (some guy named Spencer) apparently made a sex tape that she doesn't want released to the public. Heidi may be the dumbest person alive. Darlin'... you need to keep yourself in the spotlight. The only reason that you're famous is because you're famous. You're not talented, you probably smell like a vodka and regret, and you look like you ate Gwen Stefani. If you want to keep the lifestyle that you've got going, you might want to make a few more of these puppies... Maybe develop a coke habit. Hell, you could hire someone to carve your face onto the side of Mt. Rushmore for all eternity. And those are just ideas off the top of my head after 4 hours of sleep, pre-dancing in the shower (where most of my good ideas come from), and after Pickering Activity Penguin suggested that another shot of whiskey was a good idea at 11:30 last night.

Heidi, you've got the whole world watching you. Get naked. It's party time.

I know that the Lord of the Rings movies have been out for several years now. I still love them as much as I did when I first saw them. I hope New Zealand is as magical as I have made it out to be in my head.

New Zealand Fun Bucks

When I went to Ireland a few years ago, I ordered Euro from my bank about 3 weeks in advance. I needed to have some (obviously) when I was over there and I wasn't about to pay the exorbitant exchange rates at the airport to do it. Of course, I sort of blew through what little cash I brought with me about 2/3rds of the way through the trip and ended up having to make an ATM withdrawal that cost me eleventy bajillion dollars in service fees. Oh, and the Euro that I ordered from my bank took just over two weeks to get to me. Who knew?

So, in preparation for next month's trip, I decided to order my money a month in advance. "Hell," I thought "New Zealand is twice as far away as Ireland is... It'll take twice as long for the money to get here." Yes, I really am 30 years old, and yes, this is really how I think. I ordered my currency yesterday and I got a phone call this morning saying that it was in. Now THAT'S service! Way to go, SunTrust Bank!

I got the same teller (Erin) that I got yesterday and as she was filling out my currency form, she stopped and the following conversation between Erin, Mary (another teller) and me occurred:

Erin: "Hey, Mary... What is the currency of New Zealand called?"

Mary: "Oh, gosh... I forget."

Erin: "Craaaaaap."
Me (interjecting): "They're called 'dollars'."

Erin (looking up from the stack of notes that read 'New Zealand' and 'Dollars' on them): "That's not right, is it?"

Me: "Trust me. It's right."

Erin: "Mary... Can you look up the New Zealand currency name for me?"

Me: "Seriously. They're called dollars."

Erin: "Really?"

Me: "Yeah. Or if you want to write 'New Zealand Fun Bucks' on your form that's cool with me."

Steven Slater

Steven Slater. Sounds like he could be the brother of semi-masculine A.C. Slater from Saved by the Bell. But he's not. If you've been paying attention to the news the past few days, you've undoubtedly heard of the JetBlue flight attendant / steward / whateverthey'recalled and his amazing grab a beer and run out the airplane quit. That's the best saying that I could come up with for it? Ah, crap.

I've followed this story with a decent amount of interest the past few days and I have to say that I disagree with Steven Slater. 99%.

First of all, I have to say that we've all dreamed of quitting a job like that. Grabbing a beer, swearing at everybody, and then exiting out the emergency slide. What? Your place of business doesn't have an emergency slide? That part is pretty awesome and that's where the 1% of agreement comes from.

Here's why I disagree with him 99%, though.

Dude... SS... Your job is hospitality. You are paid to be nice to people. You are paid to give out Pepsi and pretzels and according to salary.com, you get paid about $38,000 a year to do it. Do you know that I work 60 hours a week at three jobs and don't make much more than that? Someone has to get paid to do it and that someone isn't me. Do you know why? Because I am not very nice. Even if someone paid me to be nice, I probably wouldn't last very long. Certainly not long enough to do it for as many years as you did. I'd last maybe a flight. Maybe. And that's only if I had access to the beverage cart.

Everywhere I read about online keeps talking about how great this guy is. I just don't see it. All he managed to do was a live reenactment of that scene from Half Baked where Scareface quits his job. That's pretty funny and all, I suppose, but if I wanna watch Half Baked, I'm gonna watch Half Baked. And there's no way that Steven Slater is half as funny as Dave Chappelle. Hell, he's not even half as funny as Jim Breuer, who I'm pretty sure is a highly functional autistic.

But the real reason why I have no sympathy for Steven Slater? It's because he works for an airline. I don't care that you don't like it when people get on their cell phones when the plane lands. I don't care that you don't like it when people jump up to get their bags from the overhead compartment. Let 'em. That's right. Let 'em pull out their phones. Let 'em get their luggage from the overhead bin. What do you care if they get ear cancer or get knocked unconscious by their Samsonite bag? That'd teach them a thing or two. It's an airline. The enemy.

In my life, I've been on 20 individual flights. Do you know how many delays and or cancelled flights I've endured? 6. That's 30% of the flights that I've taken that have been wrong. Do you know what would happen if I got, say, company payroll right only 70% of the time? That's right, I'd be looking for work, just like Steven Slater. And air hosts and air hostesses wonder why travelers are pissed off.

Don't support this guy. He's not a hero. He's not a chump. He's just some dude.

Piranha 3D

Have you guys seen this Mad Men show? Judging by the fact that no single episode has ever had more than 1 million viewers and that it's on basic cable, I'm going to say that you probably haven't. It seems to be semi-wildly popular with people my age-ish but I don't really know because I don't really watch TV 'cept for sports and when LOST was on. Anyway, let me give you a very academic breakdown of what I believe the last 3 seasons and change have yielded based on me seeing two and a half episodes and from what Patrick Copeland has told me:

Some dude named Dick or Don [MYSTERY!] went to war, stole his dead buddy's identity, went to New York, worked at a wildly successful advertising agency, quit, started his own (so-far) floundering advertising agency, has hooked up with every special guest star actress, all while within arm's reach of a bottle of Speyside or Glenlivet depending on his mood. There. I just saved you one hundred F-bomb and topless-less hours because the show is on basic cable. This sounds strangely similar to The Prince and the Pauper and (perhaps more culturally important) the episode of The Simpsons when the town finds out that Principal Seymour Skinner is really named Armin Tanzarian. What? You've seen it.

All in all, though, Mad Men is not a bad show. Especially during the last commercial break of this Sunday's episode. WHAAAAAAT?!

That's right folks. After an evening at Rumours East (go Mint Juleps, go!) I went over to the Burleson house (along with the McCopelands) to watch this week's episode. And, during the last commercial break of the evening, I saw the preview for what is sure to be the blockbuster film of the summer. Yes, that includes Inception which could have been better only if the studio execs could have figured out a way to cross over the film with an episode of Pimp My Ride. Imagine the revenue! Is that still a show? Bah. No matter. Oh, and making the Christopher Nolan mindbender about 4 seconds longer just so that I could prove to everyone that my theory on the ending is right.

Now, as you all know, I love movies. Generally, the worse or better the movie is, the more I'll like it. It's sort of a reverse bell curve with me. That's education, homies. Some films in my stable include MEGASNAKE, Teenage Caveman and the special edition dvd of Snakes on a Plane just to give you an idea of where I'm coming from. Ladies and gentlemen... I present you with what is guaranteed to be the single best film you will see this year. More visually stunning than Giant Athletic Smurfs with Helicopters and Slingshots Avatar. More mindbending than the aforementioned Xzibit-free Inception. Folks... Prepare yourselves:

What a brilliant an original concept for a film! Vicious attacking fish with awesome teeth prey upon really good looking people at the beach in 3D. Wait... what? You say it's already been made? You say it starred Dennis Quaid? YOU SAY IT'S NOT ORIGINAL? Damnit, Jaws 3D. You are ruining my life (and my argument) right now. I don't care. I'm still going to go see it.

I can see this becomming huge. Huge enough for the Discovery channel to give Piranha their own week on that station. I'm actually still wondering why they don't have Puppy Week. Or Kitten Week. Or Fried Chicken Week. I guess that's why I'm not in television production. Well, that and my Xzibit-DiCaprio crossover idea. And that I live in Nashville. And don't know anything about television production.

Folks, next Friday it is. Rush to your local cineplex. Buy your tickets early online at Fandango*. Camp out. Steal your grandma's VCR and pawn it. Do whatever it is you have to do to see this movie.



*Fandango: I expect a portion of the proceeds for the tickets you sell. You're welcome.