I am the worst person I know

I have been known to refer to myself as the worst person I know. Part of that is self-effacing humor but honestly, at the heart of the matter, it's an affirmation and a source of comfort to me. See, if I'm the worst person I know and I'm not out committing rape or robbery or genocide or other attrocities against people, and I've surrounded myself with people who are that much better than I am, I sleep a little better at night. Horrible people doing horrible things are out there but as far as I know, they're strangers far, far away, at least in a relative sense. That doesn't solve any of the world's problems but it helps me confine them in a small box and keeps them psychollogically manageable. Maybe I'm fooling myself but it seems to work so I'm not going to screw with it.

A little behind-the-scenes glimpse: more often than not, the stuff I post here is written days (sometimes weeks, when I'm on a super productive streak) in advance. What you're reading right now was written yesterday (January 14). However, Monday's entry was actually written on the fly. What's ironic about that is that during the exact time that I was putting it together, yet another semi-angry/semi-resigned screed about being frustrated by the behavior of stupid and inconsiderate people, a man was shooting two people in a nearby (21.5 miles to be exact) movie theater, killing a man and wounding his wife, in a stupid fight over the victim's inconsiderate use of a cell phone in the theater. Just like that, one life ends and three others are altered forever, over something that at it's worst, was rude and a pain in the ass. As I was writing, obviously unaware that any of this was happening less than a half hour's drive away, I was having trouble deciding whether or not to use a joke, an offhand and flippant reference to praying for the painful deaths of those who annoy me. I thought the piece needed more jokes but ultimately decided not to use it, only because I decided it didn't work because it just wasn't very funny. I mean mechanically, not in terms of whether or not it was "appropriate". It's entirely possible that I was making that decision at the exact moment the shooting was taking place. This isn't about what is or is not acceptable to be presented as humorous (if the joke had been funnier, I'd have used it), it's about how far... or how close... I am from snapping at that level.
When I'm me at my best, I can't even imagine getting THAT angry over something THAT silly. The idea that not only should someone pay for their lack of consideration with their life but that I should be the one to render that punishment? It is utterly impossible for me to relate to that.
However, I'm not always at my best. A few years ago, I was out running errands with my dog Barkley.

This is what pure happiness looks like: Barkley, taking a ride.

She was my favorite pet of all time and I still absolutely ache over how much I miss her. She was 100% pure goodness and a true source of joy in my life. She was also a daddy's girl and nothing made her happier than just spending time with me. So we're out running errands and some ass, an old man, pulls out in front of us, causing me to swerve drastically into another lane. I caught up to him at the light and yelled at him through the passenger side window. He yells back, telling me to go fuck myself. I lost my shit. The light turned green and I started chasing him. We got off the main road and were racing through a neighborhood, squealing tires and all kinds of unsafe driving. I didn't even know what I would do to the old man when I caught him but I knew it would be really, really bad. I was going to punish his ass, right in front of his wife or whoever the old bag riding with him was. I don't know why but I happened to look at Barkley and saw that she was terrified. She was sitting there, being a perfectly good girl, because that's what she was at her very essence, but the look in her eyes was unmistakeable. She was confused and something that she loved, taking a ride, was now a scary ordeal because of me, somebody she loved. My heart instantly broke into a million pieces and I stopped chasing the old man immediately. I pulled over as he drove on and sat on the side of the road for about 10 minutes, petting Barkley and apologizing to her, but mostly trying to comfort me. I have never felt like more of a failure than at that moment. After all, she was just a dog and the only things she could offer me were her love and trust and I had betrayed both over... what? Some jerk who I allowed to make make me angry? What if I'd gotten her hurt? For that matter, what if I'd caught the old man and hurt him or his wife? Pathetic. Of course, she recovered fully and quickly because, again, she was a dog and made of pure goodness but the idea that I had caused her even slight anxiety because I lost control of my emotions just destroyed me. I don't know if that was my first big step in the softened-up softie I'm (d)evolving into today, but I haven't had a similar incident since and it still hurts when I think about it, so yeah, probably.
The whole point is that I'm the worst person I know and I'm pretty much okay with that.

More stupid people problems

I would have to say the toughest thing about my job is dealing with the stupid people. I realize this makes me unique from everybody else who has a job by about 0%, with the only exceptions being certain sects of monks who are bound by a vow of silence but those guys don't show up in the census.
One of my favorite things about life is how we all know the stupid people are out there but none of us are them. We can point them out in a crowd, we can mention them by name (many of them are our friends and relatives) but none of us are actually stupid. The stupidest person in the world can be in the middle of doing the stupidest thing they've ever done and they'll be looking at someone else, shaking their head sadly and thinking to themselves "look at that idiot over there".
These are the people who make my job less than a pure joy. Specifically, the argumentative stupid.
I work in customer service, which is not as bad as it might sound initially. I like helping people solve problems. Better yet, my employer affords me the resources to do so. It's not a bad job at all. I sincerely enjoy it. But every now and then, I get someone who calls for help and then wants to argue with me. This is something I simply can not comprehend. Let me give you an example:

CALLER: Hey, when is the thing?
ME: It starts at 8:00PM.
CALLER: Are you sure? Because I read something on the internet that says it starts at 7.
ME: Yes sir, I'm sure. That event definitely starts at 8.
CALLER: Well, then why did it say 7 at whatever.com?

All right.

1. You called me with a question. If you felt like you already had the info, why did you call?
2. I don't work for whatever.com. How should I know what they publicize or why?
3. I'm here, at the place where the thing is taking place. I think I have a better handle on the situation than whatever.com. I presume that was a factor in why you called me.
4. If you don't think I'm a credible source of information, why did you call me?

Sometimes these people will argue with me about directions, as in how to get from where they are to where I am and all I want to say is, "Well, I'm here, proving I know how to get here, and you don't, so...". Of course, I can't say anything like that or any of the stuff up above. I don't want to get fired and I don't want to upset anyone and mostly I don't want to get fired. This puts me in the position of having to argue without arguing, also not to be condescending. I have to because it's my job to impart the correct information and if I don't argue, I won't be doing that. I'll be failing to provide the service which I'm paid to provide. It's difficult and happens enough to cause frustration, which if unchecked, can come out in dealing with people who aren't stupid and argumentative and don't deserve to be treated as such.

So what do I do about these stupid people? Eh. Nothing. I just complain about them on this blog every now and then. It's cheaper and more effective than therapy and unemployment.

Gettin' in Da Club - part 2 of 2

Not so fast, would-be club member.
After repeated phone inquiries which resulted in un-returned voice mails, I guess The Exclusive Wealth Club does not want me as a member. And it's not because of what I wrote here on Wednesday; all my phone calls were made before that was published. Something else has derailed my attempt to join this club. Something in the timbre of my voice, perhaps? Maybe my lack of education and upbringing shows through in my manner of speaking. Could it be the fact that I'm black? I'm not, of course, but they have no way of knowing that. It certainly couldn't have anything to do with my wealth, because who makes more money than comedy writers?

All right, besides whoever all these people are, I mean

It definitely can't be because of my lineage. The Brooks name is one with a long, proud history featuring exceptional men excelling in a variety of disciplines...

Uncle Mel

Cousin Garth

Cousin Derrick

I have no idea. All I know is I'm not getting in, which means I wasted all the interview preparation I did, which means I'm just going to have to pretend that would have gone something like this...

Hello Mr. Brooks. Thank you for your interest in The Exclusive Wealth Club!

Hey, I'm just thrilled you returned my call! Although, I don't know why that should be such a big deal as it's nothing more than the least amount of common courtesy, something that one wouldn't necessarily equate with exclusivity and wealth, right? Ha ha!

But of course. Now, I should start by asking what your interest in The Exclusive Wealth Club is?

Ah yes. Well, you see, my good man. I feel as though it's time for me to take the next bold step in personal and professional development and that exclusivity and wealth will be key components of that development. Plus, a lot of my friends are jerks and I could certainly use an upgrade in that department. KnowwhatI'msayin'?? (extends hand for high five which is not returned).

Uh-huh. So personal gain is what you're seeking.

I guess if I had to boil it down to the basics, I  wanna get freaky in mansions. That's what I'm really talking about. I wanna get freaky in mansions in Europe with girls who, when you're done getting freaky with them, go out and stand on a wind-swept veranda where they look incredible instead of arguing with you about who pays what in terms of bus fare.

Mr. Brooks, I don't think you understand what the club is really all about...

Oh! And also on a helicopter! It can be just once, but that needs to happen. It doesn't have to be a great helicopter. It doesn't even have to fly. It could be a fire truck, actually. With or without sirens. Whichever is classier. Probably with sirens, huh?

Mr. Brooks, this is as much about what YOU bring to the club as it is what you can get from it. Our members are influential, powerful people. They're the elite, the upper crust of society.

Hey look, I'm a guy with a wide variety of interests and talents. I write, I act, I mess around with music. I know about sports. Any club would be better for including me, not just the ones where members get together to have sex on fire trucks.

I don't think so, Mr. Brooks. Thank you for your interest but we are not going to consider you for membership at this time.

So that's it? I'm out? Aw damn.

I'm truly sorry. Perhaps we will meet again under different circumstances.

Oh, you can count on that, pal. Count on that!!

Let's get Shorty!

"I don't care to win awards" - Prince
"Lost causes are the only ones worth fighting for" - Clarence Darrow

Those two quotes are philosophies I honestly believe in and try my best to live by. Sure, I've campaigned for awards before but that was just for fun. I do what I do and honestly don't care if somebody thinks it should be commemorated with an award or not. However, my pal and Raw Charge editor John Fontana has nominated me for a Shorty Award, which "honors the best in social media". John nominated me for, in his words, "fantastic writing on multiple sites; humorous, entertaining, awesome". He's talking about my coverage of the Tampa Bay Lightning at Raw Charge, the stuff you find here on the purple blog and profound wisdom nuggets like these on Twitter:

"It's nice to know that the girl I'm going to ruin when I have my mid-life crisis is probably in high school by now."

"I can't figure out how to buy one of those grocery check-out separator bars."

"Having cleaned my crock pot, I now feel like I can accomplish anything! Well, good night everybody."

Naturally, I don't believe there's even a slight chance of winning. And because of that, I can't think of a valid reason not to try. And so, here is my official plea to you to please vote for me to win a Shorty award. In doing so, you'll join the following luminaries who have already pitched in...

Jeff Hickmott ‏(@jeffie2k) I nominate @clarkbrooks for a Shorty Award in #blogger because...the ladies love him. Oh, and he writes stuff.

Raw Charge (‏@RawCharge) I nominate @clarkbrooks for a shorty award in #blogger because of his engaging, entertaining approach and versatility and persistence

Tina Robinson (‏@TJ_hockeyfan426) I nominate @clarkbrooks for a Shorty Award in #blogger because...he covers Tampa Bay hockey AND he can be funny too!

Clare Austin ‏(@CAustinRC) I nominate @clarkbrooks for a Shorty Award in #blogger because he's already won the trust of our octosquid masters.

BigBadEd ‏(@BigBadEd) I nominate @clarkbrooks for a Shorty Award in #blogger because he's the Bombdiggity.

Allovimo (‏@Allovimo) I nominate @clarkbrooks for a Shorty Award in #blogger because...he's fantabulously awesome.

P.W. Fenton ‏(@pwfenton) I nominate @clarkbrooks for a Shorty Award in #blogger because... he gets pissy when he doesn't win.

LightningShout (‏@LightningShout) I nominate @clarkbrooks for a Shorty Award in #blogger because he's a few bricks shy of a load and funny as hell.

Su Ring (‏@Motley_Su) I nominate @clarkbrooks for a Shorty Award in #blogger because... he ROCKS.

Bees (‏@LoveBees) I nominate @Clarkbrooks for a Shorty Award in #blogger because he never fails to make me smile. And would much rather be a veloceraptor

John Fontana (‏@Johnny_Fonts) I nominate @Clarkbrooks for a Shorty Award in #blogger because of his fantastic writing on multiple sites; humorous, entertaining, awesome

See? We've got some momentum here. Now is the time to join in by casting your vote between now and February 18. The awards ceremony is April 7 in New York. And if we somehow manage to fall short, look how many of us can all be disappointed and bitter together!

Gettin' in Da Club - part 1 of 2

The other day, I was on line and I stumbled across this club...

Woo wee, son!

That's right, it's the Exclusive Wealth Club, Inc.
My first reaction was something like, "AH, HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!"
But then I thought about it a little more, and aside from having a name the Little Rascals might have come up with after Spanky and Alfalfa each found a nickel or something and a logo that must have taken several minutes on Publisher to design, this sounds like it might be a pretty sweet club. Besides, it's hard to come up with a good name these days, what with so many things having been around for so long and taking up all the really good names that describe an organization, its members and what it's all about. "The Excelsior Douchebag Society", "The Kill Us First When You Poor People Finally Get Fed Up Enough To Do Something About It Association" and "Ye Mystic White People That Even Other White People Hate Krewe" are probably all taken. Regardless, you shouldn't judge it by the name; take a look at that logo. Those are lions, a two-headed swan AND a crown! They also have an official Facebook page. You think Zuckerberg lets just anybody have one of those?
Who's in charge of this club? This guy...

You may know him better as The Governor from "The Walking Dead".

Just kidding. Those are two totally different guys. One has a band of yokels who are easily manipulated by a measure of charm and bullshit following him around and the other is a character on a television show.

Okay, I can tell some of you still doubt how top notch this club is. Let me give you some evidence via photograph...

Those are some blinged up graphics, yo! You've got to go back to MySpace circa 2003 for that level of class!
Check out this video...

Did you see those girls? Those are the kinds of girls you get to bang if you're a member of The Exclusive Wealth Club, even if you ARE a girl. Ha ha! Just kidding; you ain't getting in the club, bitch. Not on your own, anyway.
Speedboats, mansions, private jets, waving at unseen people as you get off of private jets, parties in the daytime with the world's best bald deejays, windy balconies, horse statues, yards that can only be viewed from a helicopter? It's like being a damn James Bond villain!

And lastly, when pictures and moving pictures can't paint a picture, you count on words. Words like these (straight off the official club Facebook page):

What is the Exclusive Wealth Club?

I don't know. Talk to me, papa!

Over the years The Exclusive wealth Club has managed to combine the best features of a private club, with the infrastructure of a Private Mansion Equity Destination Club. Many members own luxurious beachfront homes, play tennis or golf at the best country clubs and facilities, dock their yachts in the most coveted marinas, explore the most spectacular locations, and dine in the world's top gourmet restaurants. 

And luxurious bangin' in all those places? Oh yeah, I think so!

Our members treasure the ultimate luxury of having a private mansion paradise to share with other like minded members. An air of casual elegance best describes the feel of EWC events. The natural beauty of the locations and the ability to have a safe haven away from the hussle and bussle of everyday life, while meeting and sharing it with new friends is the ultimate allure of EWC Membership.

See? Also, when you reach this status you don't have to worry about how to spell words like "hustle" or "bustle". Those are poor people words. Let some slob with a name tag worry about spelling those shits correctly.

Generations of members have forged a strong community and connection to preserving this unique EWC lifestyle. Membership is offered by invitation to those who share a common vision and value a community that holds privacy to the highest degree. Being exclusive yet inclusive to like minded individuals offers an private club like no other. 

Need I say more? An private club like no other! "Generations of members" of a club that started in 1986. Who can cram multiple generations into 25 years? Exclusively wealthy people, that's who!

That does it, I'm joining this bitch.

NEXT: I attempt to join this bitch

Network: 2014

The 1976 film "Network", starring Faye Dunaway, William Holden and Peter Finch was a satire about the media, particularly television, and the role it plays in our lives. If it were released today, it probably would have been a completely different movie. It might not have even been a movie.
It might have been a blog.
Like this:

BEALE'S BLOG

"I'm the mad prophet of the internet!"

November 27, 2013
I'M MAD AS HELL!

I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It's a depression. Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel's worth. Banks are going bust. Shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. Punks are running wild in the street and there's no one anywhere that seems to know what to do with us. We know the air is unfit to breathe, our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our computers while some local newscaster tells us that today we had 15 homicides and 63 violent crimes as if that's the way it's supposed to be. We know things are bad. Worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything everywhere is going crazy so we don't go out anymore. We sit in a house as slowly the world we're living in is getting smaller and all we say is, "Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster, and computer, and my steel belted radials and I won't say anything." Well I'm not going to leave you alone. I want you to get mad. I don't want you to protest. I don't want you to riot. I don't want you to write to your congressman because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write. I don't know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crying in the streets. All I know is first you've got to get mad. You've got to say, "I'm a human being. God Dammit, my life has value." So, I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window, open it, and stick your head out, and yell, "I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!" I want you to get up right now. Get up. Go to your windows, open your windows, and stick your head out, and yell, "I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this anymore!" Things have got to change my friends. You've got to get mad. You've got to say, "I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this anymore!" Then we'll figure out what to do about the depression and the inflation and the oil crisis. But first get up out of your chairs, open your window, stick your head out and yell, "I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this anymore!"


26 Comments:

Jeff said...
Ok WTF????!!!!!??

Tyler said...
Decaf maybe?

Carol said...
LOLLOLOLOLOLL!!!!!!!!

Mike said...
Srsly, WTF????????????????!!!!!!????????

Howard said...
Because you people, and sixty-two million other Americans, are listening to me right now. Because less than three percent of you people read books! Because less than fifteen percent of you read newspapers! Because the only truth you know is what you get over the internet. Right now, there is a whole, an entire generation that never knew anything that didn't come out of the internet! The internet is the Gospel, the ultimate revelation. The internet can make or break presidents, popes, prime ministers... The internet is the most awesome God-damned force in the whole godless world, and woe is us if it ever falls in to the hands of the wrong people

Diane said...
"You people"? SMDH

Kevin said...
Here we go. Somebody's always got to tyr to bring racism into everything.

Jeff said...
^^^ spelled "try" wrong. A three letter word. Dumbass.

Kevin said...
ITS THE INTERNET!!! NOBODY CARES ABOUT SPELLING!!!GET OVER YOURSELF!!!

Howard said...
I have seen the face of God.

Rashed said...
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Diane said...
Spam!

Mike said...
OMFG! Russians have dumpsters for rent! Howard was right! LMFAO!

Kevin said...
Rascist!!

KevinSucks said...
^^^ sucks

Kevin said...
STFU JEFF!!!!EVERYBODY KNOWS THATS YOU!!!!!1!!

Howard said...
You're beginning to believe the illusions we're spinning here, you're beginning to believe that the internet is reality and your own lives are unreal. You do. Why, whatever the internet tells you: you dress like the internet, you eat like the internet, you raise your children like the internet, you even think like the internet. This is mass madness, you maniacs. In God's name, you people are the real thing, WE are the illusion.

Max said...
What is this blog supposed to be about anyway? I'm lost #lost

Howard said...
This is not a psychotic episode. This is a cleansing moment of clarity. I'm imbued, Max. I'm imbued with some special spirit. It's not a religious feeling at all. It's a shocking eruption of great electrical energy. I feel vivid and flashing, as if suddenly I'd been plugged into some great electromagnetic field. I feel connected to all living things. To flowers, birds, all the animals of the world. And even to some great, unseen, living force. What I think the Hindus call prana. But it's not a breakdown. I've never felt more orderly in my life. It is a shattering and beautiful sensation. It is the exalted flow of the space-time continuum, save that it is spaceless and timeless and... of such loveliness. I feel on the verge of some great, ultimate truth. And you will not take me off the air for now or for any other spaceless time!

Carol said...
This blog is about how Howard needs to up his meds!!!! LOLLOLOLOLOLLOOOLLOL

Mike said...
Hey Max, we don't use hashtags here. Go back to Twitter, idiot.

KevinSucks
This blog is about Kevin and how he sucks.

Diane said...
ROFL REC'D +1

Kevin said...
Eff this. I'm done.

Howard said...
What is finished... is the idea that this great country is dedicated to the freedom and flourishing of every individual in it. It's the individual that's finished. It's the single, solitary human being that's finished. It's every single one of you out there that's finished, because this is no longer a nation of independent individuals. It's a nation of some 200-odd million transistorized, deodorized, whiter-that-white, steel-belted bodies, totally unnecessary as human beings, and as replaceable as piston rods... Well, the time has come to say, is dehumanization such a bad word. Because good or bad, that's what is so. The whole world is becoming humanoid - creatures that look human but aren't. The whole world not just us. We're just the most advanced country, so we're getting there first. The whole world's people are becoming mass-produced, programmed, numbered, insensate things...

KevinSucks said...
Kevin sucks.

Comments are now closed for this post.

Shame or something like it

The other day, I needed to talk to my sister about some fairly serious, unpleasant and sensitive family business. I called her in the morning and got her voice mail, where I left a message for her to call me back. When she did, it was later that afternoon and a co-worker with a well-earned reputation for being nosey was nearby working on something or other. I didn't want Nosey all up in my business but I also didn't feel like trying to whisper, figuring my sister wouldn't be able to hear me but Nosey would. No sense in fighting the battle on that level so why bother. Instead, I decided to let him have the info, but after I rendered it toxic for him...

"Hey, so listen, I have to tell you something but you need to know there's somebody nearby who's probably listening to every word I say."

Rather than jumping through all the hoops necessary to keep my conversation private, I figured it would be easier (and more fun) to just treat him like an asshole before he could do the asshole thing that he inevitably would. You know, pre-emptively. He can't even defend his as-yet uncommitted crime with "Hey, I'm not listening!" without revealing himself as exactly that. Granted, none of this stops him from listening in or even sharing it, but hopefully the fact that he knows I'm on to him, and that I'm probably not the only one, ruins it for him, at least a little bit. Some people have no sense of shame, and in those cases you have to try to find some other way to make them feel shitty about the shitty things they do. Not to teach them a lesson, because those people aren't worth trying to salvage by teaching them stuff, but simply as a form of punishment.
You see, you have to crawl before you can walk, but if somebody chops your legs off, it's hard to do either of those things.

So that was 2013

Let's see;
I survived an ailment that I thought was going to kill me in my sleep, I helped Peter Pan get his boat back, I continued to collaborate with some great writers with The Unbelievables and at Raw Charge.com, I published a book, I threw a party to celebrate the publication of said book, I bought and moved into a new home, and I finally committed my first real wedding.

Those are all pretty cool and significant things, things that one could look back on with a real sense of pride and self-satisfaction.
Then how come my fondest memory of the year was that time a blind girl's wheelchair tipped over and I was able to see up her skirt for a second?
Oh well. Here's to next year.

Happy New Year

Originally published December 31, 2008

All through the house, 'twas the eve 'fore '09,

All the creatures were stirring, man, woman, bovine.

The mission was simple; an epic pub crawl,

to down as much booze before hearing "Last call!"

To get myself psyched up, I listened to rap,

And put on my favorite backwards baseball cap.

The car keys were hung by the tv with care,

Cops don't like drunk drivers, no mercy to spare.

I would be walking, no, stumbling more apt.

And wouldn't come home home 'til my wallet was tapped.

When out in the yard there arose such a ruckus,

I looked out the window and said "what the fuck is..."

But my query was cut off, halfway out my throat,

When I saw parked in my yard what looked like a boat.

A salty old pirate came scuttling out,

"I'm Captain Morgan!", he announced with a shout.

"You've been invited to come join my crew!"

That pop that you heard was my mind when it blew.

I couldn't believe it. My brain playing tricks?

Or another dumb prank by my friends, who are dicks.

That's when he called out to the rest of his gang,

"Come show yourselves", and their names he then sang;

"Now, vodka! now, whiskey! now, Thunderbird vino!

Some applejack brandy with San Pellegrino!

Margarita, Rumrunner, Long Island Iced Tea

Fuzzy Navels, Martinis, now come follow me!

Budweiser, Michelob, Miller Lite, Coors!

And other shitty domestics, if I didn't mention yours!"

This was amazing, my best dream come true,

Of course I would join this fabulous crew!

But before I could answer, what to my eyes did appear?

Great, big, ol' wet spots on my jeans, front and rear.

I said, "Uh-oh, this ain't right. What is the matter?"

And found my hand submerged in a bowl of warm water.

I raised up my head and I looked in a mirror.

On my face, penned in Sharpie, it said, "Insert balls here".

The crew and the Captain were laughing at me.

"Oh gross", one of them said, "He slept in his own pee!"

I squinted my eyes so I could focus on them

And saw no captain or ship; just my own so-called friends.

While they took turns laughing and being disgusted at my state,

I mumbled "Izzit NewYear?" They said "Dude, you're too late."

It turns out I got drunk, passed out hours ago.

Slept right through the damn thing, missed the whole Dick Clark show.

I couldn't believe it, the whole thing was a dream

Never should have mixed tequila with Baileys Irish Cream.

I pulled myself upright and promptly puked up some beer.

and said "Keep laughing, you assholes. I'll get you next year."

How to fix the Bucs

As another sorry Buccaneers season comes skidding to a halt like the ninth car in a ten-car pile-up(they finished 4-12), it's time to assess what went wrong this season.
So far, people are chiming in to blame the coach and/or the owners.
I'm no football expert but I think those people are stupid. My theory: the team needs a new logo.
This is what they have now...

"What's wrong with that", you may ask. "Perfectly intimidating, it's a scary, scary pirate skull with swords. Certainly better than what was there before, a fey, Errol Flynn-esque character, winking acknowledgement that everything is just a jolly romp, it is."

That's mostly true, but not completely. Look at that current logo again; it's not actually a skull and swords, it's a flag with a skull and some swords on it. Our logo is a flag. Worse, it's a flag on a sword, a weapon rendered useless by turning into a pole upon which you display a colorful bit of cloth. If we really were buccaneers, this is what would happen:

"Bosun, are the men ready to take to the streets to loot, pillage, plunder and rape?"
"Mostly, captain."
"Mostly?"
"Well, we have this one goof, playing flag with his sword instead of brandishing it in a threatening manner."

That's us. Clowning around when we should be taking care of business. No wonder we aren't very good. We're clearly not taking things very seriously and applying ourselves. We should ditch the flag part of the logo and just put Mr. Skull, his swords and his little orange football on the helmet. We should probably do something about that godawful combover first. You're a frightening skull; just because the last logo had a glorious, long-flowing mane, you don't need to be self-conscious about your 'do, man!

So long, Uncle Bob

My Uncle Bob passed away the other day. I called him Uncle Bob but most people knew him as "Chet", short for Chester, his last name. When I was little, he had this massive model train set-up. It filled his entire garage (you had to duck down and kind of crawl under tables and wires and then pop up into the middle of it to see everything) and had multiple trains running through tunnels in mountains, visiting little villages with cars and people and rolling through miniature acres of farmland. All that attention to detail just blew me away. I hadn't been to Disney World or anything like that so that was the most incredible thing that I knew existed in the world at the time, and my Uncle Bob made that happen. Needless to say, I was in awe of him. I have no doubt that his influence is a huge part of why I love toys and miniature things so much now.
He was also the first funny person I knew. He was a funny, funny cat and he lived that, and I mean all the time. He told funny stories and he loved practical jokes.
I remember the time he told a co-worker at one of the auto shops he worked at during his life that you could make a perfect hard-boiled egg by just putting a raw one in a microwave oven on high for about five minutes. That went as well as you'd expect but the beauty was in the fact that he convinced the guy that the problem was he'd pointed the egg in the wrong direction and got him to do it again.
I had entire conversations with him that consisted of nothing but jokes. He seemed to know all of them. For every one I'd tell, he'd counter with four. It was a serious accomplishment that required work and diligence to hit him with something he hadn't heard before, which he'd acknowledge with a big smile and a "Yep!". That happened about as often as I'd get an A on a report card, and I took more pride in it too. And not just any old jokes; he was always on top of all the current topical jokes. I'm convinced that he was part of the top-secret network that produces jokes about things that happen in the news and circulates them faster than the internet ever dreamed of. I can't tell you how many times he'd hit me with a barage of one liners about something stupid that had made the day's headlines and I'd say, "Uncle Bob, that just happened!". He'd just smile in response. Now that I think about it, he smiled in response to just about everything. I'm going to miss that.

Merry no longer Christmas but not quite New Years although it IS Friday, so that's good Day

"She's been like that since Wednesday. Should we do something?"

Like the last of the stuffing from Christmas dinner (come on, it's gone...you're just scraping the dish with a spoon now and it's embarrassing..all right, go ahead and lick the spoon...Jesus), we've reached the end of the epic Christmas poems. This one was inspired by that most dreaded of all Christmas songs, "The Christmas Shoes". This version, originally published on December 23rd, 2011,  is not nearly as sad, yet somehow, it's more pathetic (I guess I'm a genius).

The Christmas Velcro Shoes

As I get older every day, 

So many things that I have learned.

Like, an oven filled with microwaves 

Turned up to 10 makes popcorn burned

Some other lessons I've picked up

I choose to ignore or to use 

Like drinking whiskey from a coffee cup

Or not wasting time by tying shoes

Since I've discovered footwear with velcro

I can't be bothered with silly strings

To me, this is the way to go

More valuable than Five Golden Rings

There are no laces so I don't get knots,

That I would have to snip

I just grab

that velcro tab

Tug it once and hear it rip

Also, I don't worry about kids I meet

with crumb-encrusted faces

Crawling down between my feet

And tying together my laces

I have one pair in stealthy black

Another in a pearly white

Stylishly, I'm not held back

Even if I were to meet Jesus tonight.

It's not that I can't tie a bow

(I'd learned how by second grade)

But shoelaces come from...where? I don't know

While velcro is American made

That's why I mentioned to Santa Claus

In my lengthy annual letter

Don't give me no shoes with inherent flaws

When velcro makes it all so much better

I'm already planning to leave him cookies in a dish

Santa's cool and oh-so-smart

I know that he will grant my wish

Because I saw him wearing some at Wal Mart.

Merry (day after) Christmas 2013

"You know, Mildred, I don't believe that boy actually knows how to play that guitar..." 

Hey, did you get everything opened, played with, cleaned up, cooked and eaten yesterday? Ready to sit back, relax and enjoy the cheery, warm afterglow of the season? Well, go ahead. You've earned it. Let me play a little song for you while you do, all right? Okay, good.

Christmas is over (if you want it) 

Originally wriiten and published December 26, 2008 

(This is in C, if you're singing along) 

So this was Christmas 

And what did I do'd? 

Sat in my apartment 

And ate Chinese food 

And so this was Christmas 

Without any cryin' 

Caught up on old re-runs 

Of Conan O'Brien 

(This is the part where my Japanese girlfriend, an off-the-wall avant-garde conceptual artist who would absolutely refuse to wear a school girl's uniform no matter what, would join in...if I had one) 

A semi-Merry Christmas 

Crack open a beer 

Let's try to get excited 

About a Happy New Year 

(me again) 

And so this was Christmas 

Guess I'll take down the tree 

Or just leave it up all year 

For the neighbors to see 

I'm almost that lazy 

And I could start a new trend 

What do you think, 

Japanese conceptual artist girlfriend? 

(She would sing in Courier for some reason. I don't know why) 

Everybody loves a freak show 

That's why we are here 

But that idea is stupid 

Without merit, I fear 

(Children's choir joins in...) 

Christmas is over 

Quit your whin-ing 

Get off your ass 

Do some shop-ping 

(repeat until you feel utterly compelled to get up and go to Best Buy)

Merry Christmas 2013

"Huh? Oh yeah. Murry Chrizmuzzz."

Merry Christmas to you and your friends, families and associates, known or otherwise. Please celebrate with this poem I wrote and origihnally published in 2009

(Sing to the tune of "Silver Bells" if you're so inclined)

Scattered, smothered, chunked and covered

World's greatest hash browns

In the air

There's a feeling of breakfast

Bikers, truckers

Smearing Smucker's

On pieces of white toast

And in every corner booth you'll hear

"Waffle House, Waffle House

Only place open on Christmas

It's a treat, when we eat

Here, every year, Christmas day"

Waffles, pancakes

Pork chops and steaks

Grilled bacon patty melts too

You won't find much health food

On this menu

Orders shouting

Coffee spouting

Martha Stewart's nightmare

And above all the bustle

You'll hear

"Waffle House, Waffle House

Only place open on Christmas

It's a treat, when we eat

Here, every year, Christmas day"

But next year, maybe dear,

Perhaps we could have Chinese

Perhaps we could have Chinese

For Christmas, I bring thee... a foul-mouthed robot. Enjoy!

The rest of this week will be encore episodes of holiday special editions of this blog. In other words, re-runs. Let's start things off with this classic favorite (in other words, old) entry. Why, look who it is! Our robot pals, Erzatz and what's-her-name, ol' Boxhead, same as every year since 2011, here to perform a song for us and teach us all something special about sharing or family or whatever. I made this two years ago. I don't remember. Or care. I have been crazy drunk since Sunday. Anywho...
Merry Christmas!

The elf on the pot

I've noticed a lot of negative backlash toward The Elf on the Shelf this holdiay season. Suddenly people seem to be tired of the classic Christmas prankster and his antics. "He's/It's creepy" is the most repeated complaint. It's hard to argue against that. There's no telling what that shifty-eyed bastard is capable of, being as his goal is to cause "mischief" and "mischief" is such a subjective concept; one elf's leaving the top off the toothpaste could very well be another's sexual abuse of a family pet. Why take that chance? You can still enjoy elf-based Yule-tidey shenanigans, thanks to
El Caganer

(From Wikipedia): "A Caganer (Catalan pronunciation: [kəɣəˈne], Western Catalan: [kaɣaˈne]) is a figurine depicted in the act of defecation appearing in nativity scenes in Catalonia and neighbouring areas with Catalan culture such as Andorra, Valencia, Northern Catalonia (in southern France) and the Balearic Islands. It is most popular and widespread in these areas, but can also be found in other areas of Spain (Murcia), Portugal and southern Italy (Naples). The name "El Caganer” literally means “the crapper” or "the shitter". Traditionally, the figurine is depicted as a peasant, wearing the traditional Catalan red cap (the "barretina") and with his trousers down, showing a bare backside, and defecating. "

See? El Caganer has exactly one idea of a good time: crapping on yours. Sure, that's disgusting but at least you know what you're up against. The legend of El Caganer dates back to the 17th century or so, although the origins and reason for it's existence are muddled. many seem to think it symbolizes fertilization of the earth which is a wish for a bountiful harvest in the upcoming new year. I'm willing to bet somebody just thought it would be funny to poop-bomb a nativity sceene. Either way, El Caganer is a big deal, apparently.

Here's a stamp. Go on, lick it.

A children's book...

An interactive children's book (hint: buy extra brown pencils)



Good heavens, this one is in 3D for some reason!

Funny how they all look so blissfully zoned out, isn't it? But maybe you don't want a stoner with the squirts hanging around your house either. Maybe you want your pooper to have a little more gravitas.

Empathy for the brotherhood of man plus poop, ala John Lennon

Reverence for the spirituality which binds us together as one plus poop, ala the Dalai Lama

The spirit of action and adventure plus poop, ala Spiderman

The point is, why put up with crap like this...

When you can have crap like this?

This will be the last (new) blog post of 2013. Tomorrow we'll resume our annual Christmas tradition, but aside from that I'm taking some time off to play pinball and watch The Hudsucker Proxy (New Years tradition). Also to work and work, plus work and work and work. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Smells like school spirit

CEO Katie Masik

The other day, I received this email:

Hi Clark,


I was wondering if you’d be interested in covering Masik Collegiate Fragrances.

Masik recently collaborated with University of Florida and Florida State to create an official men's cologne and women's perfume for the schools. The science behind these signature scents is inspired by elements like school colors, campus style, flowers and trees, traditions and location. The hope is that these original scents will remind people of the past - long after days on campus come to an end, alumni and fans can smell that special scent and be reminded of that unique time – the campus, the sporting events, the traditions and most of all, the memories.

The way it works is Masik pitches their perfumers a ‘fragrance brief’ that outlines the school’s specific elements along with pictures of the university campus, sporting events, students and alumni. Once Masik formulates scent options for the school, the universities conduct smell sessions to determine which fragrances they like best – these scents then become the official men’s and women's fragrance for each school.

Would you be interested in a sample for consideration or speaking with the CEO Katie Masik? I’ve included links below to view the fragrance line along with a video to learn more about Masik.

Well, of course the answer to all of those questions is yes, because what is this blog about if not style and fashion and smelling nice and higher education but mostly free stuff for me? I also really wanted to use that headline up there. So I interviewed Ms. Masik last week and that went like this:

ME: Can you tell me a little bit about your company and what you do?
KATIE MASIK: We started this company to create collegiate fragrances a couple of years ago and started out with Penn State and North Carolina. Now we've expanded the line to 17 schools, to include the two in Florida, the University of Florida and Florida State. We worked with the individual schools to create their scents and we kind of go through the same process with each school. We look and we research things like school colors and the campus as far as the trees, the landmarks, the architecture and the overall style of the school. And then we create the signature scent of the school. The schools are actually involved in selecting the fragrances they like the best.
ME: How do you turn colors into a fragrance?
KM: We can use Florida and Florida State University for example. If you look at the University of Florida, obviously the orange and blue, we pulled a lot from the orange color for Florida. So we used scents like mandarin, mimosa flower, citrus, things that are orange scents. For a school like Florida State you have the garnet and gold so that garnet color inspired apple and pomegranate scents. And then for the gold, with the women's we added a golden amber. And in the men's, a very subtle pineapple and those colors translated to those scents that way.
ME: I didn't go to either school but my understanding is that those people are, um, not fond of each other.
KM: They do! They hate each other. Just like Auburn and Alabama, and we do fragrances for both of those schools too.
ME: So wouldn't the true mark of success be if a Florida State person smelled the Florida fragrance, they would just go nuts with rage?
KM: That would be ideal, but I don't know that that always happens. Hopefully, it does, just by seeing the logo, it angers them.
ME: That's very cool! When does this product hit the market?
KM: It's on the market now. All of our retailers are listed on our web site and we have a department store exclusive with Belk.
ME: Now, I never got into college because those institutions discriminate against dumb people but I think a fragrance aimed at somebody like me would consist of desperation and fear, not wanting to disappoint my parents along with questionable hook-ups plus beer. How much of these collegiate fragrances rely on things like that?
KM: Um, I'm sure you could use your imagination but none of those things actually made it into any of our fragrances. Those not-so-positive and exciting experiences would definitely bring back memories but it's not something you want to smell like all day, that's for sure.
ME: For lack of a better term, are these "experiential fragrances", are these representative of a new trend? Is that something anybody has done outside of the college experience?
KM: When we launched the line, we sort of looked at the market place and I'd always wanted to do a fragrance different from what you already find out there. And at that time, it was a lot of celebrities and fashion designers. You know, scent is linked to memory. So there is definitely science behind smelling things and being part of a memory or an experience and bringing that back and that was the concept we built on.
ME: Like, could you do a Tampa fragrance or a Pittsburgh experience?
KM: Oh sure! I've seen some of that out in the marketplace in recent years. I know there's a line here in New York that I love called Bond No. 9. They do fragrances for different New York City neighborhoods. They do one for Bryant Park and Chinatown and various areas in New York. Pretty cool concept.
ME: Isn't the fragrance world really super competitive.
KM: It's extremely competitive! Which is why as an entrepreneur looking at corporate America, I thought, "wow, I really need to do something totally different". Because I'm not a celebrity, I'm not a fashion designer. There are so many different fragrances that launch each year, it's really hard to come out with a winner that is something different that people embrace. The market is quite saturated with fragrances.
ME: Are you looking for celebrities to endorse these fragrances or is it not necessary because the alumni appeal is so strong that you don't need to go that route?
KM: We're certainly open to it. We've had a few sports agents reach out to us looking for endorsements and things like that. We tried to send bottles from time to time to certain alumni as gifts but we haven't really actively approached it. Of course, if there's some high-profile alumni out there, like an actor or an athlete, who'd like to wear our fragrances and say nice things about it, we'd certainly be open to it!
ME: And without getting into specific sales figures, how are things going? Are you pleased?
KM: Yeah, we are. We had a great fall. We launched for the first time in a major department store with Belk. You never know what to expect going up against brands with huge advertising budgets and celebrity endorsements and things like that. But we've really been able to hold our own and its going very well with Belk, so we're really happy. I feel very fortunate actually.
ME: Any other schools launching fragrances soon?
KM: I can tell you, some brand spanking new ones we've rolled out are Kentucky, Ole Miss, NC State, Texas A&M, Princeton and South Carolina. And we're in talks with some schools in California right now.
ME: Do you ever worry about people from rival schools infiltrating your focus groups and giving intentionally bad input? 
KM: We do the test sessions on campus, so if we we're on the Auburn campus and an Alabama fan were somehow able to get in there and try to steer things in the wrong direction, I guess that could happen. But we try to take steps to make sure the people we're talking to have the school's best interests at heart.
ME: You wouldn't want some Michigan fan as part of the Ohio State test group saying things like, "needs more poop".
KM: No, so far we haven't had anything like that happen. Although, a lot of people on the North Carolina campus suggested we launch a Duke Puke fragrance.


For information about Masik Collegiate Fragrances, and participating retailers, or to buy direct, click here.