This Fucking Guy

Is my new Hero (yes, Hero, not hero). Kurt Vonnegut truly is an American treasure. I strongly urge all you old farts around here to pick up and read Timequake. It's the perfect blend of fiction, auto-biography and cranky-old-man observations about life, wrapped in a sci-fi story-line that holds a mirror up to alot of the absurdities of life.

This Fucking Guy, Too

And I'm talking about Gregory House, not Hugh Laurie. I'd say he's an American treasure too, if it weren't for the fact that Hugh is British. My girl got me hooked on this show, and even though it's the same tired recipe every week (patient comes in with inexplicable condition, team works on multiple solutions, they find one that works 35 minutes in, 10 minutes later there is another complication that renders that solution worthless, House figures out what is really wrong during a totally unrelated conversation, saves the day in the last 5 minutes. Rinse. Repeat.) I love his cantakerous banter and Lisa Edelstein's righteous pistons.

MEEEEEOW!!

Final Thought

Happy Birthday Queen Latifah!

Keep it saucy for another 39 years, aight?

Meh

Generally I think blogs are a pile of shit, cause generally I don't really care about the passing thoughts of strangers, I got enough of my own to keep me busy. But since I'm stuck at work at 11:30 on a Friday night I'd thought I'd rant.

Fucking Amateurs

So I work in a bar playing crap music for douchebags two nights a week. It's not all crap, but you can only hear the Greatest Hits for White People From The 80s And 90s so many times. Don't get me wrong, the crappiest DJ gig in the crappiest bar is still better than an equal-paying regular job, but sometimes the people that come in here should just wear a shirt that says "I only go out once a month and I have no taste." Case in point: some girl just asked me "if I can say 'Happy Birthday to Kimmy'". If you want that Chuck E. Cheese shit, then go to Chuck E. fucking Cheese. This is a bar. For grownups. And no, I will not play you Miley Cyrus. This is a bar. For grownups. And please to refrain from calling a bar with a pool table, dart board and no dancefloor a club. A club charges you upwards of $40 just to get in the door, and

usually requires that you change out of your dockers and sensible loafers that you wore at work all day.Also, please do me a favor and know where the hell you are going. Don't look at me incredulously if I won't interrupt my classic rock block to play T-Pain. It's not that type of joint. It's 2009 people, it's really quite easy to go onto google or citysearch and figure out where the hell you are going BEFORE you go out. Besides, this is New York, if you can't find a place that's to your liking in a 5 block radius, then you are lazy and doomed to perpetual cluelessness and I can't help you.

Also, in case you haven't realized it, twitter is really for 13 yea

r old girls with lots of time on their hands.

Isn't It Ironic?

You ever notice that money is the root of all evil AND makes the world go round?
On A Lighter Note

It's finally warming up and I'm looking forward to finally taking advantage of our roof this spring/summer