For those of you who like a good hockey debate, definitely check out the smart, feature-length comments on my last post “An Essay on Quickness” (the “smart” part coming from commentors, not me).
You have to love a topic that brings about respectful discussion like that, especially when by the end of it all, my opinion has changed. Anyways, on with today.
I love Jerry Seinfeld.
You know why? Because all that “nothing” on his show actually matters. Those stupid, mundane little details in life that we all get stuck with unites us. It’s all part of the human experience; it’s those shared moments that we can all relate too. So, partly inspired by Seinfeld, partly by nothing, here’s a bunch more of my wandering, meaningless thoughts:
First, an imported Seinfeldian Blogable, from my Dad:
Really, extension cords? I curl you up, wrap you tight, and leave you packed with loving care, but everytime I come back to re-use you, you’ve clusterf***ed yourself into a knot again? I hate you.
(By the way, I love that my Dad had some moment so frustrating in the garage he decide to write me about it. I can’t wait to see if he punched a hole in the wall or not. Safe money’s on “yes”.)
At what exact point east does ordering ”mustard” imply ”deli”, “spicy”, or “dijon” awfulness? The standard - Yellow French’s brand - is what you get in the west when you ask for mustard. But I think it could be as close as middle America where it becomes a complete crapshoot, like they don’t even know their own mustard-associated identity yet. Trying to get yellow mustard in a New York deli is pointless. You’re the two-headed foreigner holding up the line.
Bud Light Lime – pretty dec, right?
I know I mentioned it in a tweet, but if you aren’t watching Rob Dyrdek’s Fantasy Factory, you’re doing it wrong. Don’t give me some old song and dance about “oh, I used to watch Rob and Big, but…” – stop. Just start watching Fantasy Factory and all is forgiven.
Isn’t watching Tim Wakefield just about the greatest thing ever? The knuckleball is such an anomaly. You have all these steroid juiced monsters trying huck heat an extra six miles per hour, then you have some 40+ year old essentially underhanding soft-toss to these guys (by comparison) and they’re missing the ball by an entire foot.
It’s like making your buddy put his head on a bat and spin around ten times, shotgun a beer, then go into the batting cages with a Slinky® for a bat. Only your buddy has an excuse for the results.
I’m wondering if many pro sports trainers are ever taken seriously by players, aside from rehabilitation purposes. I know a couple trainers that are, but even when I was at NHL training camps, the second the trainer would turn away he’d get mocked like turtlenecks. It must be really tough to tell a self-trained, talented athelete when to work out. The why and how are easy.
There’s no. cold. water. in the state of Arizona during the summer months. Not an exaggeration, that’s an observation. The only cold water has been refrigerated. The water in the resevoirs gets heated to like, a trillion degrees, then comes out ready to cook spaghetti in. No cold water out of the taps. Wrap your head around that.
On the same theme – Really, sporting events? Three fifty for a bottle of water? I mean, I’ve been gouged before. I’ve been to movies. I’ve even paid $1.75 for a Dasani in a gas station. I know how much water costs. I fill up a bottle everyday and put it in my Klean Kanteen. Meet me in the middle on the gouge at least. Raping me for two bucks is criminal, but at least by comparison, I could tolerate it. Three fifty? I’ll get a $7.25 beer, thanks.
In the days before Twitter, someone who was recognized as “funny” might have a few good ideas a week, and every month, they’d find some forum to share it with the public. Twitter is kinda letting us see who’s funny all day, all the time.
Like, maybe Mark Twain had a boatload of brutal sayings, but because he lived before Twitter, he had time to filter them and only let the good ones rock. Maybe… maybe Roseanne Barr was the funniest person of all time. We just didn’t get to hear her thoughts 24/7 as I do Seth Meyers, my favourite Twitter person to follow. That site is gonna help the right funny people prove themselves, I’m convinced (as well as let the unfunny ones show their true colours. I’m looking at you, Shaq).
Is there anything worse than accidentally watching DVR’ed commercials (…you know, aside from serious stuff like murder)? You record a program, then start watching it. In the process, you space out, forget it’s taped, and sit through five minutes of plot-separating commercials , only to remember with like, nine seconds of commercials left that it’s taped (then you start fast forwarding, go to far, and have to rewind. Sometimes to the point of watching that same nine second of commercials anyways). Kill myself.
… that’s probably enough of those for today. Send your own gripes to my email address on the right, or in the comment section. Oh, and one more thing: You know what really grinds my gears?