Dark Side of the Moon experiment

Do you remember all the hoopla about how Dark Side of the Moon syncs up with The Wizard of Oz?
What I want to know is was this just some happy coincidence one night where some guys had The Wizard of Oz on while someone happened to be playing Dark Side of the Moon and someone was like, "Hey guys -- are you noticing this?!"
Or was it more like something that was bound to happen after hundreds of days like this:
(speaking into tape recorder while taking DVD out of player)
"Day 962. I've concluded Dark Side of the Moon does not sync up with Notting Hill..."

10:27 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Die Hard IV

Die Hard IV is rated PG-13.

 Yippey-ki-yay-motherfudger

10:50 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

I am the worst grocery shopper

I am the worst grocery shopper.
It's really ridiculous.
First off, I never take a cart. I always need a cart, but I never take one.  Instead I try to balance my 56 items into the plastic basket. 
And the order in which I shop is all wrong.  I go straight to the beer aisle. 
I swear, if I was Willy Coyote at the Acme store, I'd pick out the anvil first and carry it around as I go look for my sticks of dynamite.
So, inevitably, my basket gets too heavy too soon, so I have to leave it somewhere and then come back to it every so often once my hands can't hold anymore.
And I always choose the worst home base for my basket. 
I should put it near the check out, but instead I always put it by the milk. So once I'm done I have to slide my basket down the aisle to the check out stand or have people watch the vein in my forehead nearly burst as I try to carry it to the front of the store. And if it's the latter, I might as well be carrying a bomb given my shouts of: "Outta the way, people!" as I speed walk down the aisle.
And does anyone else have no patience with the check out conveyer belt?
For instance, if the separation bar has only alloted me one foot of space because the person ahead of me's grocies are taking up most of the belt, rather than wait for them to bag that person's groceries,  I will stack the contents of my entire basket Jenga style on that one foot of space.
And now I only pay with credit card because, once you've paid, there's no time to restock your wallet with bills and change without the person behind you giving you the stink eye.  You're always like, "I'm sorry... the bills don't seem to be going into my wallet... yes, I'm trying to fold them but they're not crisp.  It's hard when they're not crisp."
And at the check-out they always ask if you found everything alright.  Which is polite, I guess, but how irritating are the people who don't just say "yes"? 
IT'S TOO LATE! How do they not know that?!
That's like someone going up for communion at mass and as the priest is about to hand them they're waifer, they're like, "I'm thinkin' I might be an atheist."

4:04 PM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Cycling

Okay, while I admit I've never been to a rave, from what I understand it's dark, there's loud techno music and a lot of people sweating.
I now know the same can be said for a cycling class.
When I first walked in I was like, "I didn't bring a pacifier -- is that going to be a problem?"
I didn't really say that because it was too dark and loud and I hadn't yet figured out who the instructor was.
I was also anxious because I was a little late and they were already going so I quickly hopped on a bike. 
But I failed to consider that these things need to be adjusted.  And I didn't know anything about tension levels.
I soon began to appreciate the darkness as my left pedal went spinning out of control without me as the right side of my body went up and down. 
Did I mention I hate techno music?
But I'm okay with them playing it because I wouldn't want to associate good music with the pain I was and am now in.
When I went to get my wisdom teeth pulled and heard The Beatles playing on the office speaker system I said, "You are not touching me with that drill until you change the station... what are you trying to pull?"
"Your wisdom teeth."
"What are you -- a clown? Change the fucking station."
Aaaand we're back....
So, I made it through about 45min of the hour. I stood up on the bike maybe half the time I was instructed to.
Then I started wondering... is everyone really going to stick this out?  Am I really going to be the only one that calls it quits early?
This thought process got me to stay another, maybe... 20 seconds.
Then I hopped off.
What I didn't know was my legs didn't work anymore.
I think they should tell you these things.
Like, "Oh and hey, we've reached the point where if this is your first time and you're grotesquely out of shape I just broke your leg muscles... thought you should know."
But that warning never came.
And so I bent at the knees unvoluntarly, struggled to stand upright and then wobbled out of the room.
I was like: STEP -- WOBBLE WOBBLE -- STEP --- WOBBLE WOBBLE.
Listen, it's hard to describe.
To make matters worse, this class is on the 2nd floor. And there is no elevator to the 1st.  So I had to take the steps down.  This took so very long for my legs to let me do so I had to find ways to hide the fact that my legs weren't cooperating. You know, like "oh, I'm just stopping here on this step to take a drink from my water bottle. Yup. Just drinking my water."
STEP
"Turns out I'm still thirsty, Mr. Passerby... just quenching that thirst."
STEP
"Op, my shoe is untied... nope -- can't bend over -- think of something else David... What? No, I'm fine, just admiring the view, er, um, looking at the wall. What is that -- is that drywall?"
Anyway, I made it home and have not yet been able to orchestrate just how I'm going to untie my shoes. But I'll get there... I'll get there.

6:46 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

I'm joining a gym

I'm joinging a gym today. I'm gonna fucking do it.

Why? Because I can no longer fall asleep at night on account of having put my body through zero amounts of physical strain during my day.

Also, I'd like to not break a sweat  when I'm pouring water into the coffee maker.

Those are my only real goals. That and maybe I'd like it to take a little longer to kick my ass.

But can I just say  the prep for this gym membership has already been a task.
For starters, I need gym clothes.
T-shirts, sweats... probably boxer briefs as opposed to boxers... some of you may think, "But David, the only thing I've seen you wear is T-shirts."
True. But those are my 'work t-shirts,' not my 'work-out t-shirts.' If I went to the gym in those, I might as well be wearing a suit and tie.
And for as many people being in LA as there are, there aren't a lot of Sports Chalet type stores.
So I have to trudge through the traffic, find parking and shop.
And, of course, no small sizes.
I wouldn't mind that we have an obesity epidemic in this country if it didn't affect me. But when they start making less clothing for the thin on account of it, I have some real issues.
And now I also have some ugly green work-out pants.
Why? Because they only had mediums and above in  black, navy blue and grey. AND THEY'RE NOT EVEN THE TEAR-AWAY SWEATS THAT I CAME TO BUY.
That was the whole point of the mission. Come back with tear-away sweats.
Do you know how great it feels to come home after working-out and literally tear off your pants with one swoop?
Well, I don't either, but, in my mind, it seemed like it would be spectacular.
Anyway, I'm on my way there so I can take part in there 5:30 cycling class... but I'm already wondering if it's cool to leave the class early... you know, because you might die.
I'll let you know.

4:02 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

I Participated

Why did I save all my participation ribbons?  Can anyone tell me that?

I have an entire scrap book where with the turn of every page I can be like, "And here are some other sporting events I failed at."

I know I didn't hold onto them for praise. I mean, has any Dad anywhere ever taken his son back home to the rest of the family and declared with pride, "Check out my son the participator!"

It was always more like, "How'd you do, son?"
"I participated... See? [holds up ribbon] ...what's wrong, Dad?"

1:13 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

My Idea

I think we should be cloning koala bears.

And I think we should be doing this for many reasons.

We want the rest of the world not to hate us anymore?  What if we give everyone in the world a dozen koala bears? 

This would solve everything.

"Oh hey bomb maker for the Iraqi insurgency... where's your bomb? What's that? You were too busy playing with your koala bears?  Well, I can't say I'm surprised, Jassim."

The koalas could also be incorporated into dating.

So whenever you dump someone, you have to give them one of your koala bears.

This would be useful for many reasons.

First off -- hard to be too sad when you just inherited yet another cuddly koala bear.

Secondly, no one would ask, "Who dumped who?" anymore.  They'd just ask, "So who got a koala?" And that's an easier question to answer.

Thirdly, it would help you spot the serial heartbreakers.

People would be like, "Dude... watch out.  I hear she's only got, like, 2 koala bears."
Equally easier to spot would be the losers.
"He seems pretty together, but Suzy told me he has over sixty koala bears."

10:51 PM - 0 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Lasik

Alright, so I got lasik so I feel I should talk about that. Not sure that anything particularly interesting or funny went down, but people have been asking me all week what it was like, so I might as well give this a go.
So, first you go in for your initial check-up. You know, to see if you're a candidate for the surgery. Because your eyes may not be fucked up in such a way that lasik can help. The only thing I really remember from this check-up was the surgeon's assistant telling me that if I've been letting my contacts get to a point where they've been causing discomfort before I throw them out (I had been), that that's super bad because contacts are basically bandages for the eye and if the actual bandage is causing irritation that's problematic. And I was like, "Yeah, okay, but remember how I'm getting lasik next week?"
It's kinda like telling a death row inmate that he's not getting enough exercise.
Anyway, turns out my eyes were just the right kind of shitty to get the lasik.
I scheduled my surgery for 10 days later.
Before lasik day you have to go in one more time the day before the actual surgery and they dilate your pupils causing you look like – yeah, I'm going to reveal some geekiness here – but it makes you look like those people on the X-Files right when the alien virus gets into their body and causes their eyes to go black.
I should also mention for the 10 days leading up to the surgery, I had to wear my glasses instead of contacts because contacts can leave an imprint on the eye that causes the laser accuracy not to be 100% or something.
That may be complete bullshit and they're just trying to put you in a place where you're overly excited to get the lasik merely because you're sick of looking like a jackass wearing glasses from your freshman year of college.
Anyway, then came lasik day.
They took me back and sat me in a dentist-like chair whereby I was offered a doll or a Nerf football to hold on to.
Fuck you I took the football.
Each eye takes about 5 minutes. For about 30 seconds during each of those five minutes your vision goes completely. I can't say for sure why, but it probably has something to with a scalpel and my cornea.
It's kind of intense, but not painful. Though it should be noted it was not intense in that good, Point Break kind of way.
Oh, oh – they also put those things in your eyes like what's his name on Clockwork Orange – you know, to keep your eyes from blinking. For a moment I was worried they were just going to show me violent images over and over. Which, I guess, in a way, they did. But just for 10 minutes. Not enough to really make me a deviant.
Afterwards they tape these clear, plastic shields to your eyes so you don't rub them. You only have to wear those for the first day, but then you have to tape them to yourself before you go to sleep because the doctor said sleeping David is not to be trusted. He may rub the shit out of his eyes despite lucid David's best efforts – we just have no way of knowing.
So, days later, I still have some blood blotches in my eyes and I still have a few days left of the nighttime taping. But everything seems to be going well.
When I wake up and can read my alarm clock I still have the momentary fear that I slept with my contacts in. And that some asshole taped shit to my face while I was sleeping. Then I remember the lasik… and that I did that to myself.

1:32 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Types

I don't think guys have types when it comes to girls.  I think that what's confused as us having a type is just us being drawn to someone that looks a bit like a girl we once got to say "yes."

11:24 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Can't Sleep

So, I can't sleep and I've taken a Simply Sleep pill and I've decided until it kicks in it's just this blog and me.  First off, I always mentally say Sleepy Sleep first and then have to correct myself before I verbalize its name.  But I like Sleepy Sleep better.  The marketing strategy of Sleepy Sleep relies on the fact that it doesn't have any pain medication like Tylenol PM or Excedrin Pm or Advi--you get the point.  Until now, and I guess even now, that was never a great selling point for me.  Because I guess I always just figured I could probably feel better.  I mean, my back is always a little sore anyway. So, thus, I've Excedrin PM'd it up for quite some time. This is my first venture into non-pain treating sleeping pills. It seems every time I take one of these pills they kick in right when something good comes on TV.  My non-sleeping ass had to sit through Carson Daly and then and the second airing of Leno, and then once the 2nd showing of Conan starts I find out his guest is Marc Maron and now I'm all hopped up on Mr. Sandman's junk.  We got into an arguement at work because someone said that Carson Daly is being groomed to fill Conan's time slot once he takes over The Tonight Show. I said bullshit.  Then I asked if they thought Kelly Ripa was being groomed to take over for Letterman. They thought my parallel didn't make sense, but they also thought Carson Daly is being groomed to take over for Conan, so, you know -- whose side are you on? Goddamn does Daly suck. Now I'm upset. Let's talk about something else. I once went on a date with a girl and before we went inside she said, "Before you see my place, I have to warn you, I'm Monica Gellar." And I was like, "Soooo... you have the worst sense of comic timing in your group of friends?"  She looked puzzled and then she let me in her insanely clean apartment. 
Jim Morrison said he believed "in a long, prolonged, derangement of the senses to attain the unknown." I think that's a rather convenient thing for a drug addict to believe. 
Hey, my foot fell asleep. Maybe it's starting to take affect.
So, oh, I know what I can blog about. I'm getting lasik next week. For many reasons but not the least of which is this:  Many times when you're having fun make out time with someone, the contacts are out and the glasses have come off and if your vision is as bad as mine it means that your visual appreciation is diminished to this:

And, I mean, I'll take it, but c'mon, that's no way to live. I mean, the experience is weakened, the memory of the experience is weakened and -- how is it I've never heard this argument for lasik surgery?  Yeah, I'm looking at the brochure and it doesn't speak to curing this problem at all.  I think they're missing a big opportunity to strengthen their sales pitch.
Anyway, in the meantime I have to wear my glasses and so I feel out of my element. I don't like me in glasses. Or in Prague. But that's neither here nor there. Did you know that lasik was discovered by some guy whose glasses had broke and cut his eye and then he noticed he could see better? I wonder if he got punched. Maybe that's how "You wouldn't hit a guy with glasses" came about. You know, cuz after that people thought there was a good chance you'd just be correcting their vision and they figured that's about the last thing you want to do to your nemesis. I never understood that argument anyway. If I have no problem hitting you, why would I have a problem breaking your glasses? As if anyone's going to be like, "You're right. Bodily harm is one thing, but having to go to the optomotrist's and pick out new frames is beyond frustrating. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."
Ah, and Sleepy Sleep has started to take affect. Goodnight.

1:13 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment