Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Career Day

I've been thinking lately about what I want to be when I grow up. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a wizard. I remember believing that I could literally become a wizard someday.... like this was a viable option and I could just choose it. My parents always told me that I could be whatever I want.... looks like they were wrong. In all fairness, though, this was when I was maybe 5 years old, which is about as far back as I can remember. I soon wised up and had a new dream. I decided that I wanted to be a fireman. Not sure what happened to that idea. Obviously, something must have distracted me.... probably puberty. It's not easy going through puberty, you know, especially for a boy. Now I know that the women are saying, "Mike, don't even try to say that you had it as hard as we had." I'm not. I had it harder than you. Really, I started puberty while in the womb. You think I'm really hairy now. Think of how awkward it was as a kid. I was born with a beard.... literally, a full, black beard. The upside was that it was perfect for my pirate costume on Halloween.

I used to think I'd make a good doctor. But I soon realized that I never could because I can't stand the sight of blood. Nonetheless, I do still like to pretend I'm a doctor - especially when meeting a woman. Most women are very impressed with doctors.... and to be honest, so am I.... yes, that's directed at you, arch-nemesis Mark V. You may make my life a living hell with your Filipino charm and good looks and big doctor status, but damn it I respect you.

I know what you all are thinking, "Mike, you shouldn't trivialize a sacred profession like a medical doctor to deceive innocent women." Calm down.... contrary to what they'd like you to think, doctors are not really that wonderful or that innocent for that matter. Again, that's also directed at you, arch-nemesis Mark V. As I said, I deeply respect doctors because they save lives.... but I can do all that. I mean, what is it that doctors can do that I can't do myself? As my old friend Walt says, "Give me a needle, some matches, and an episode of Desperate Housewives - and I'll remove your tumor faster than any doctor." Now, I should qualify that statement by saying that I wouldn't ever recommend actually doing this. Though I have seen Walt do it. No joke. He's brilliant.... probably come up with a cure for cancer by now. But will anyone take him seriously? NO. Why? Because he's not a doctor - period. Well, it might also be due to his insistence on drinking vodka tonics during the operation.... and the surgery was conducted in an alley behind the Applebee's off TX-183. I'll be honest - the tumor he removed was actually a cat's testicle. But still.... the cat made a full recovery.

For about 30 minutes, I once considered going to law school. This was some years ago - back when I was young and brash with a fiery self-confidence that didn't take anything from anyone. (I once punched a woman just to get her attention. And I flirted with a guy just to eventually prove I could break a man's heart.) Anyways, I gave up that idea of being a lawyer after one look at the classes they have to take.... BORING. Plus, people just don't respect lawyers.... at least not the way that they respect doctors. Look at the show Lost, for example. Who's the big, hunky hero? Is it a lawyer? NO. It's Jack, the doctor.... and a surgeon at that. Could you imagine a lawyer being the hero on the island? Not nearly as likely. I'm not saying a lawyer couldn't be a hero. I'm just saying that a majority of people don't want to watch that on TV.

Anyways, here's something to think about. I once had a young, newly-wed guy from UD (my old college) try to tell me that once you're married, you've got to start getting serious about providing for your family. Daft rule. Give me a break.... this same guy was doing keg stands a year earlier. But perhaps marriage matured him. I'll admit - women can have that affect on men. Now, I've been getting a lot of feedback from people who think that I hate women. That's just not true. Shoot - I have nothing against women in general.

Well, that's all for now. You may have noticed that this is the second post in one week. Normally, I only post one a week. Will there be more? Who knows. But let me leave you with this. If you're struggling to find your own career or to just find your way in life, remember this: Sometimes the darkest hour is right before the dawn, but one of these days that sun is going to implode and it's gonna get a whole lot darker.

Monday, July 27, 2009

The Wedding

As you all should know by now, I went to a wedding in San Antonio this past weekend. Yes, I arrived in Texas on Friday evening, and let's just say that my friends and I got the party started before I could say, "Who gets married in Texas?" Seriously, who gets married in Texas in July? I was sweating as soon as I stepped off the plane.... or the airport.... whatever. My good buddies from college - Greg and Pat - picked me up with open arms.

Now my two buddies and I are like some famous trio when we get together.... we're like the three musketeers.... or the three stooges. Yeah, actually, we're like both the musketeers and the stooges. We'll kick your ass and then make you laugh with our zany, slapstick antics. Anyways, we got some drinks at some restaurant downtown where there were a bunch of other people in town for the wedding. Not sure what the restaurant was called, but I'm sure it must have been Mexican.... most things are down there.... which, if you know anything about me, was like being in heaven.

Unfortunately, I left my driver's license at this restaurant. Well, for some reason in Texas they take your ID when you start a tab.... damn you, Texas! Or maybe it's just that particular Mexican restaurant.... damn you, Mexico! At any rate, I suspected that Roy Chism, the powerful father of my good friend Ryan, had picked up my tab and had my ID. I was SO embarrassed to ask him though. I saw him the next evening at the reception (his daughter was the one getting married). So after several whiskey-and-cokes, I walked up to him like an adolescent schoolboy asking the cute girl out on a date. Now, Roy's a huge man.... the kind who could probably kill me with a swift kick to my crotch. I tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me, sir, but I think you might have my driver's license." There was an awkward pause, and he stared at me like I was speaking some foreign language. I tried to explain my situation, but he had not idea what I was talking about. So, like a rejected boy, I went back to the open bar and got a beer.

I went back to the restaurant afterwards, and they had it there the whole time. Problem solved. The end.... well, it wasn't much of a story, but I had to put something here.

Many of you are probably wondering about the long-anticipated show-down between my arch-nemesis, Mark V., and myself. Well, he was there alright. I had my guns out and ready to go. I had it all planned out. I had printed the one-way ticket to my gunshow for him. Anyways, I was going to walk up to Mark at the reception and say something like, "Hey, Doc! Here's your ticket to the gun show," or "All aboard the Mikey train. Next stop - hell!" I'm not sure.... I hadn't worked out all the details. As I say this, I would hand him the ticket in my left hand, and with my right arm, I would pull back and land my fist on his sweet, Pacific-islander face. Pow!

Sadly, none of this ever happened. You see - Mark's wife and young daughter were there, too. Damn you, family! I'll admit that I'm a jerk, but I couldn't beat Mark to a pulp in front of his family. We formed a truce.

Some of you might be thinking to yourselves, "Mike, what about the actual wedding?" If you're asking this, you're most likely a woman, and you probably want to know what the bride's dress was like, what kind of flowers there were, etc. Well, I'm a guy, so I don't really care. In all honesty, I am a bit cynical and bitter when it comes to weddings. Most of you know that I was for a VERY brief period engaged. It's a sad story, and I'll share all the awful details with you. You see.... Patrick Boos ate her. No joke. Don't laugh. My body-builder friend was inhaling a protein shake. I told her not to stand too close when Pat drinks his shakes as he will inhale whatever is in a 10-meter radius of him, but sadly she was sucked in and swallowed in a single gulp. It was quite a tragedy, but I don't hold it against Pat. Maybe it was for the best, as they say. As my old friend Walt says, be careful when choosing a bride because she could turn out to be a soul-eating succubus. Now that is a warning we would all do well to heed.

That's all for now. And remember: You can't teach an old dog new tricks, but you CAN chop it up into a meal for four.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Harry Potter and the World of Idiots

Warning: This post has an R rating for nudity.

I went to see the new Harry Potter movie the other night. Spoiler alert - Harry dies in the end. Seriously.... it's real bad. Hermione seduces him and then kills him in his sleep. I know.... it's messed up, right? Who would have thought. It just goes to show, though, that you can't trust anyone.... not even a girl who plays with wands.... especially not that.

Speaking of Harry Potter - I've actually seen Daniel Radcliffe on Broadway in a production of Equus. It's a great play, but the performance itself was nothing special. Now, some of you may not know this, but little Harry shows his little Harry in this show. That's right. He gets naked.... or got naked rather. The show closed a few months ago. Anyways, I was watching the show from way in the back of the theater.... up in the balcony. I'll admit.... it was a bit weird watching Harry Potter in the nude. Of course, he was at least 19 years old at the time. And the young woman on stage with him was also naked. That was very nice. I mean seriously. I know some of you are thinking, "Mike, what are you five?" I'm actually 28, but I make no apologies about this. She had it going on. Even from way up in the balcony, I could tell that something special was happening on stage. It's strange how I didn't hear any talk of a beautiful woman being naked in this show. All anyone was talking about was how Harry was nude. Who's the pervert now? As my old friend Walt says, "Sometimes a pervert is your best friend." Now, technically that's not really advice, or even a true statement. But I'll just let you think about it.

As some of you may already know, I'm currently going to graduate school at Brooklyn College located in.... Brooklyn. I'm getting my master's degree in theatre history and criticism. This may sound fancy. It just means that instead of being broke with a B.A. in English, I'll soon be broke with a M.A. in Theatre. Only now I'll be able to write, direct, and act in my own shows in my basement. And then, of course, I'll write the critical reviews of those shows. Don't worry about me though. Seriously, I have a plan for financial security. It involves 1) meeting an extremely wealthy woman, 2) getting pregnant, and 3) forcing the extremely wealthy woman to marry me. I know you all are asking the obvious question right now: "Mike, how are you going to meet an extremely wealthy woman?" I haven't figured that part out yet. Unfortunately, I think I may already be pregnant. That's right. I said it.... I think I may be pregnant. Don't judge me.

Anyways, I recently had to go to campus to turn in an application for a federal direct loan.... or something like that. I don't really pay attention to those things anymore. Now dealing with college employees can be a nightmare, but this BC staff is something else. And the students are not too bright either. In fact, they are all idiots. Ok, now I'm not just talking about my college. I'm talking about the world. It is full of idiots. But, seriously.... those of you who went to the University of Dallas know how inept those employees are. Well, the University of Dallas is like the parent of a retarded child.... and that retarded child is Brooklyn College. Now, it's true that BC is one of the most ethnically diverse schools in the country, so I don't want to be misunderstood here. I don't have anything against foreigners. I don't care if you're black, white, red, brown, or yellow. We're all idiots. Well, maybe not yellow. Asians are smart as shit.... seriously, they are some of the smartest people ever. Have you ever seen an Asian in this country who is unemployed? It's not going to happen.

That's all for this week. And remember: Sticks and stones may break my bones.... but if you tell anyone I'm pregnant, I'm going to kick your ass.

Friday, July 17, 2009

My Summer Make-Over

So it's been a while since my last post. Well, a lot has been happening.... and I mean a lot. I've been preparing physically and mentally this summer for my total make-over. It's a complex process to re-establish my overall image as perceived by the public. It involves every aspect of my life.... from how I look to how I get around the city. I devised this plan as I sat in my basement eating cheetos, so it should work.

Step 1: Get a car.
Step 2: Join a gym.
Step 3: Get a boob job.

Ok, so the last probably is not going to happen.

As many of you already know (because I keep telling everyone), I already have completed steps 1 and 2. The Honda is still holding up and serving me well by the way. Unfortunately, I already got 3 parking tickets. I'm telling you - NYC sucks the life out of you. They fine you for everything. It's like they say, "You want to live here? Fuck you, see if you can handle this." Or something like that. My apologies for the F-bomb. Perhaps, that was uncalled for.... but it's there now, so let's just leave it. As my old friend Walt says, "If you can't enjoy an F-bomb, what can you enjoy?" Words of wisdom.

As I mentioned, I did join a gym recently. It's about a 10-minute drive from my apartment. Anyways, I guess that's not important. What is important is that I'm pounding plates again. For those of you who don't know, that means that I'm lifting weights. It's a great way for me to get out all the stress that builds up inside. And let me tell you, it can get intense. I sometimes fly into such a rage that all I see is iron, and all I hear is the sound of my muscles ripping. I'm not sure, but I think that I once ate a small child while in a fit of iron-pumping rage. So all you little kids out there, you've just been warned. For those of you who are keeping track, I have two warnings out there now: I may try to impregnate a woman, and I may eat a small child.

You might be saying to yourselves, "Mike, you're already so ripped. Why do you want to get stronger?" First of all - thank you. I know I'm really strong, but I have a challenge coming up next weekend that will require some kick-ass guns.... or cannons if you will. I'm referring, of course, to my arms. And they'll be needed in a fight. You see, I'm flying to San Antonio to attend the wedding of the sister of one of my good friends from college. Now I've been to many weddings, and quite frankly I'm getting a bit tired of them. But an open bar is an open bar. Why I'm excited about this wedding, though, is that many of my old friends from college will be there. However, there is one Mark V. (my arch-nemesis from college) who has challenged me to a duel, and I have to be ready for him. I'm going to have a one-way ticket to Mike's gun show for him. And it's non-refundable.... and never expires. Good for one free ass-kicking. I told him that my foot will be so far up his ass, he's going to need a doctor to get it out. For those of you who don't know, Mark is a doctor.... so the irony will be hilarious.

That's all for now. Please join me next time when I'll look at the mating rituals of bottlenose dolphins.

Monday, July 6, 2009

The Return to NYC

As I mentioned last time, I recently took a trip to AR and TX. And, of course, it was an awesome adventure filled with lots of beer-drinking, bar fighting, and making-outing.... or something like that.

One person that I was very happy to see on my trip was my goddaughter in Irving, TX. Her name is Alexandra, and she's just one year old this July 9th. Naturally, being the awesome godfather that I am, I put the head of a horse in the bed of some guy that was giving her a hard time. It was great. You should have seen the look on his face. He was like, "Ah, there's a horse's head in my bed!" And I was like, "Yeah, I know. Now stay away from my god-daughter!" And he was like, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about." As it turns out, he didn't even know who she was.... my bad.

Even though I wouldn't be able to see Alexandra for her birthday, I wanted to buy her a gift. Now I don't often buy gifts for girls as a general rule.... let alone a one-year girl. So my mom came along to help me. We picked out a little green blanket with matching shirt, pants, and socks. You should have seen it.... frickin' awesome. I was feeling quite proud of myself. And I thought, "Man, I've got to get me a baby." But aside from a few failed attempts at impregnating some women, I've had little luck acquiring one. But I'm still hopeful.... so watch out ladies. That's just fair warning. As my good friend Walt says, "If you can't make a baby, make a vodka tonic."

At any rate, the biggest news from my trip is that I picked up my old car. That's right. The '96 Honda Odyssey is back on the road! It made the drive from AR back to NY just fine. By the way - at one of the rest stops along the way, I heard one of the strangest remarks from a man standing next to me at the urinal. He was at least middle-aged and white with perhaps a faint, grey beard. Anyways, while I'm doing my thing at the urinal, I hear next to me, "Ahh.... they're you are." I'm not making that up. Now, if you're offended easily, you might want to skip the next line because I'm going to use some potty language...................... ok, keep skipping ................................... What the fuck?!! I mean seriously. That was so strange, but maybe you just had to be there. I don't know what the guy meant, or who exactly he was talking to. Just bizarre. But it did give me a nice laugh and something to think about on my journey.

So I'm back in NYC now, and I'm rockin' it with the Honda. I know that some of you are probably thinking, "Mike, come on. It's a mini-van for soccer moms." And you'd be right. BUT the thing is - having a car of any kind in NYC is a tremendous advantage. A car will automatically make a person 25% more popular. Plus, girls dig cars in the city. Think about it. You're a young woman at a bar on Saturday night.... it's 3am, and you just want to go home. But you've had a little too much to drink, and you don't have enough money for a cab. Guess what? That creepy guy in the corner who's been staring at you all night has a car. And he's willing to give you a ride home. You see. Right there I have an immediate edge in this crazy city. Ok, so I'm exaggerating slightly. But a car definitely makes life easier for me. I already feel more "normal."

That's all the news for now. Hope you all are enjoying the summer!

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

The First One: Trip to AR & TX

Well, this is my first blog post ever, so naturally I am all giddy like a little schoolgirl. So.... let's begin. As I sit here typing, I am wearing a cute, periwinkle, polka-dotted dress, and my hair is tied back in a pony-tail.... and.... just kidding! Now that I've gotten your attention....

The idea for my blog is simply to have a place to put my random thoughts about my life and life in general. As some of you may know, I can be very random.... random thoughts, random words. However, there usually is some sort of logic to what I am thinking (or saying). For example, the title for my blog seems quite random: "Strangers, Outlaws, and Hispanics." Well, I'll explain. I picked the word "Strangers" because much of my life is affected by strangers whether dealing with them directly or just experiencing their strange behavior.... especially living in NYC. "Outlaws" is in the title simply because I love Westerns....they're awesome. It's as simple as that. Of course, I don't actually run into outlaws in my real life, which is probably for the best. And I'm rather fond of Hispanics, which is why they are in the title. Ok, I love Hispanic women, but this may also just be due to the fact that I'm living in a neighborhood that is at least 50% Hispanic.... Puerto Rican and Dominican to be exact.

There you have it.

As most of you probably already know, I've been living in Brooklyn for the past year. There is much I could say about that, but I'll leave that for another time. At any rate, I just recently returned from a 2-week trip to AR and TX. I spent most of my time at my family's old house in Eureka Springs, AR.... which is basically where I grew up. Yes, in case you all were wondering, my formative years were spent in the rural countryside of northwest Arkansas. This probably explains my love of hunting coon and drinking moonshine both of which I am now addicted to.... damn you, Arkansas! But I'm getting off track.

As I said, I spent most of my little vacation in AR with the family. This was bizarre. We have no TV or Internet at the old house anymore, which just seems uncivilized. Now, I know that many of you are probably thinking, "Wow! A peaceful, quiet vacation. That sounds awesome!" Wrong. It's fun for the first day, but then you realize that you're in the middle of a field in the middle of no where. Which, yes, is awesome to a degree. But I was getting worried about my facebook friends. Would they still be there when I returned to NYC? Would I ever read their slightly ironic status updates ever again? Fortunately, I am happy to report that they are doing fine. As it turned out, most of them didn't even know that I was gone.

Now, as I mentioned already, I also made a trip down to Dallas for several days. Overall, my visit kicked ass. I stayed with an old college friend. To protect his identity, let's just call him Wreg Golfe. Anyways, I got to spend time with some old friends, drink some beers, and play some soccer tennis. It was great. We went out one night, and I didn't pay for a single drink. It was awesome. As my old friend Walt says, "If you can't take advantage of your friends, who can you take advantage of?" So true.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to see all of my friends. If you did see me, congratulations! If you saw me twice, you win one free hug the next time I see you. And if you were lucky enough to see me three times, you get one free make-out session with yours truly. So, Wreg, you have that to look forward to. Of course, if you didn't see me.... you now just have so much more to look forward to the next time I'm in the big D. And, yes, I am a lot to look forward to. I like to think of myself as a cross between Danny DeVito and Liza Minnelli.

Well, that about wraps it up for my first post. I'll follow this up with another one shortly in which I describe my return to NYC. Please feel free to let me know what you think: Should the post be longer or shorter? Would you like to see me write on something specific? Whatever. Also, I'm in search of a good closing line for each post. Please give me any suggestions you may have. And if you even remotely enjoyed reading this drivel, then tell your friends to check it out.