Pop Culture Blog: Music, Movie and Humor
Leveraging low-hanging synergies outside the vertical fruit box since 1999.
Kids – switch to Nextel immediately. Can’t stress that enough. More importantly, when did Boston turn into Hoth? The heat is off in my living room, and I’m about to slice open a tauntaun and crawl inside in order to keep watching the Patriots game in relative comfort. Will a TV fit inside one of those crazy ice-hopping creatures? I’ll let you know.
And more more importantly, thanks for all the laughs, Johnny.
Appetizer: What is one quality you really admire about yourself?
My mother is a pussycat, while my father is a bit of an arsehole. I was once an even mix of the two personalities – each type has its own pros and cons. I was a tender and sympathetic young lad, but 3 high schools in 4 years changed that dramatically. In University I hovered somewhere in-between, but the past 5 years of inner-city living have pushed me further and further towards the dark side. I guess I admire my ability to embrace and appreciate the need to have a balance of good and evil in your personality. It’s essential for self preservation – and reminding yourself that while showing young girls your boxer shorts on the street is pretty hot, it can still get you arrested in most states.
Soup: What kind of shampoo and conditioner do you use?
PineSol and Ajax. Alternately.
Salad: Describe your favorite movie scene. The one that gets to you every time.
There are several. The scene in Goodfellas where Liotta’s voiceover starts talking about how Jimmy has just decided to kill everyone involved with the heist. There’s a slow motion zoom on DeNiro, leaning against a bar engulfed in cigarette smoke while Sunshine of Your Love plays in the background. That always gives me a chill. Then there’s the scene in Blade Runner where Roy saves Deckard from falling off the building and then sits down in the rain to give him a strange Nexus 6 soliloquy: “I watched seabeams glitter in the dark off the Tanhauser Gate…” You don’t know what the hell the dying android is talking about – but you’re transfixed none the less. I could give you ten more. And then act them all out with legos.
Main Course: If you were a veggie, which one would you be, and why?
A brussel sprout. Because I’d have a much longer life expectancy.
Dessert: If you took a trip within 100 miles where would you go?
To my buddy Dave Vadenais’ restaurant in Sturbridge. A ‘friend’ and I went up there about a year ago for dinner, etc. and had a delicious time. Amazing food, super atmosphere and a great excuse to get out of the city. Also a convenient, out of the way town in which to bury said friend in a shallow grave when the date turns sour. Dave, what did you put in that salad, you silly goose?!
Some people who blog in Boston do little else but bitch about the T. I have refrained thus far, as I only ride the detestable subway when it gets cold outside. But baby – it’s cold outside. So as it happens, I have a gripping tale of lust, agony and deceit to share with you from this morning’s commute. Translation: strange smells, mental illness and filth. Or ‘business as usual’ as most regular riders would agree.
Look – and I shouldn’t have to come out and say this – please don’t break wind on the T. Unless you have a syndrome of some kind or a severe digestive dilemma – there’s just no excuse for it. No one has ever had to bust ass so badly that they can’t hold it for a few stops. When I walked onto the train at Haymarket this morning, the warm, slimy gust of methane that greeted my sinuses made me feel like I was stepping into a cattle car for a 3 day ride to a gulag somewhere. It smelt like a goddamn pig farm – who are you people? Here’s an idea, save a cork from your next vino purchase and plug yourself up anytime you need to leave the house. Oh, and my new Nextel makes a loud fart sound whenever someone texts me. In that context, it’s perfectly acceptable.
After I found a spot leaning against the wall, a small man with a beard and glasses loudly slapped the wall beside where he was sitting, got up and rushed of the train just as the doors closed. Maybe that’s some kind of OCD, maybe he was high-fiving the car due to an impressive travel time or maybe it was even a little fresh with him. I really can’t say. But I will say this – find him and lock him up immediately. To my left was a scrawny, herion addicted looking chap with a Great Gatsby hat, beard and so many earrings that I felt a sudden need to inventory my tackle box when I get home tonight. He was drawing a floorplan in a small notebook and when the train stopped at Park Street, he started cursing and waving his hand up and down. Then he turned to the horrified woman beside him, smiled and asked to get past her. Needless to say, she obliged. Then he stepped off the train and broke back into his cussin’ and blindin’ as he walked along the side of it. I have to assume that the floorplan was actually a few ideas on how to feng shui his padded cell when his day pass expires at 4 p.m. today.
Then, before we could pull out of Park Street, the T driver got up suddenly, came out from behind her curtain like the Wizard of Oz, looked at the car full of people, said something unintelligible and then walked off – only to be replaced by 2 MBTA cops. They surveyed the crowd, talked to a few people and stayed on board until the hysterical driver returned 3 or 4 minutes later. Did she think she’d spotted a suspected terrorist in her rear view? Can you guess why the cops didn’t stop to talk to me? I was a little insulted as I like to think I look rather ominous when wearing my Triple Fat Goose jacket and Trailer Park Boys toque. Please be gentle and don’t ruin that for me. It’s all I have.
Due to all-around abysmal reception, and a contact within the company (I believe Master P called that ‘The Hook Up’, I’ve switched over to a Nextel cellphone – and I’m really pleased so far. I don’t need to go up to the roofdeck with a coat-hanger and tin foil in order to make a call on a $300 phone anymore. And I can actually hear the phone when it rings as opposed to before when the tone could get drowned out by fruitfly flatulence.
One of the coolest features is the Direct Connect capability, which allows you to use your phone as if you’re speaking to someone on a walkie-talkie. I told my friend Megan (the only other person I know with a Nextel) my Direct Connect number and she crackled through a few minutes later – I may live to regret that. But very Convoy-ish and cool. Who else amongst you has this wondrous capability?
If you’re a friend of mine, and you have a Nextel, leave a comment or send me an email with your DC number. This will be fun, and no – my nerdiness knows no bounds. Nextel – Not just for construction workers anymore. But still fine for serial masturbators and dweebs.
Last week, I suggested that Michael Moore would be perfect to play Clyde the orangutan in a fantasy remake of the seminal Clint Eastwood classic, ‘Any Which Way You Can’. I have since rethought my childish barb and want to issue a full apology to Mr. Moore and any other moonbats who may have been offended by my ignorant suggestion.
My reason for the retraction has nothing to do with a new found respect for the man. On the contrary – I still think he’s an overrated, slovenly mound of stegasaurus dung. I’ve just found a more appropriate part for him, is all. They’ve cast almost every role for the upcoming remake of Charlotte’s Web – that heartwarming tale from our youth (if you’ve never read it then you obviously grew up on the moon). Have a read and see if you can remember what major character is conspicuously absent from the article.
OK – do you see where I’m going with this now? Need I say more? Someone get that fat windbag on the phone and let him know that his dream role is about to be lateraled to Louie Anderson.