I'm Coming For You Oprah!

I’m not sure what possessed me to do such a thing, but I’ve decided to run the LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon. Although I seriously question this decision, for now, I’m very excited about it.

I’d also like to thank a close friend of mine, the Dude himself. (The same Dude who earlier in this blog caused a girl to pretend she was deaf at a bar in order to remove herself from a conversation with him). His insincere and frivolous challenge to a foot race was the catalyst of my running career.

My sister has already run one marathon, and will be running this one with me. I told her that I thought of a technique that would help quicken our pace and meet our goal of finishing in less than 4.5 hours (Oprah’s time). Towards the beginning of the race we will identify a strong runner. Then pick up the pace and as we pass this runner, give them a good hard slap on the ass. Hopefully, this should infuriate the superior runner to the point of chasing us which will force us to sustain an above average tempo. Although I have much confidence in this technique, I'm open to suggestions for any other unconventional methods...

Just Put Me Up There With Einstein, Edison, and Graham-Bell

Sometimes conquering principles of anticipatory repudiation and miscellaneous itemized deductions makes me feel bright, but an astounding discovery recently made me realize the sheer magnitude of my intellect. This historic breakthrough is bound to be greeted with a great deal of enthusiasm, admiration and gratitude….. Just the other day, I unlocked the secret to what is perhaps the most challenging aspect of food shopping: buying bananas. And shortly, I will unveil this perplexing mystery to you!

Prior to this astonishing achievement, I was faced with a problem that many of us encounter when purchasing bananas. As everyone knows, they go bad before you can eat them all. Well, I am pleased to present you with a solution that will eradicate this complication in its entirety.

Suppose you wanted to buy a week’s worth of bananas. Instead of buying 6 bananas from the same batch (as per the usual), buy 2 bananas that will be good today, 2 that will be good tomorrow, and 2 that will be good the day after that.

I know, I know, it’s utterly remarkable, and the Theory of Relatively pales in comparison to it. But there’s no need to thank me, because the discovery alone is adequate confirmation of my unparalleled brilliance.

The Axe Effect

I recently started using a product called Axe Shower Gel. Some of you may be familiar with it from their highly provocative, and seemingly effective (based on my purchase) advertising. Well the other day, as I was in the shower, I decided to read the back of the bottle. (I know you must find it challenging to refrain from picturing me in the shower, but please resist the urge). The back of the bottle evidenced a very strict warning label that could only be intended to shield the company from liability. It read, “using this product may result in unrelenting female attention and/or late nights.”

A number of questions immediately came to mind. First off, what if a girl wanted to use this product? Hopefully she would read the warning label before experiencing this onslaught of female attention. Then again, hopefully she wouldn’t. I then thought, ok, I’m sure this product is targeted almost exclusively to the male demographic so the aforementioned situation is probably not a big concern to the marketers (much to my disappointment).

But then I thought of an additional problem posed by the warning label. What if the potential purchaser is the type of guy who, uhhh, wouldn’t want unrelenting female attention? Would those undesirable consequences be sufficient to preclude him from buying the shower gel?

Since I don’t fit into either of those two categories, I must still take into consideration the repercussions depicted in the warning label. Every so often I’ll wonder why I’ve been getting completely neglected, and then I realize that I must have forgotten to use the shower gel that day. While I do admit that I am appreciative of the unrelenting female attention I’ve incurred following the use of this product, the late nights are starting to get to me since I sometimes have early class the next morning.

And They Call It Puppy Love

In 3rd grade I was head-over-heels in love with a girl we’ll call Sarah. At the tender age of eight I didn’t know much about girls. Although come to think of it, I probably understand them now no better than I did back then. At the time, television and movies had led me to believe that girls go for guys who could get them nice things (this probably still holds true today). This concept helped me formulate my plan to get Sarah's love in return.

I decided to take a piece of jewelry from my mother’s dresser, and give it to Sarah the following day. While I was old enough to understand the difference between right and wrong, I also understood that I was still young enough to get away with it. Upon presenting my gift to Sarah and realizing how delighted she was by the gesture, I decided that another gift would be in order the next week. So once again a week later I carefully selected something nice out of mom’s dresser and gave it to Sarah. My plan had worked perfectly, and within 5 or 6 weeks of this behavior Sarah and I became an item. I was elated with the status of our relationship. She once allowed me hold to her hand as we casually circled the kickball field during recess.

Back at home however, my Mother suspected our house-keeper, Martina, of taking her jewelry. Fortunately, she was able to ascertain who the real culprit was before taking action against innocent Martina. She volunteered to chaperone one of our class field-trips. I can’t begin to imagine the degree of surprise she must have felt upon discovering her own necklace around Sara’s neck!

When the class outing concluded my mother pulled me aside and informed me of her discovery. Just as I suspected from the outset, at 8 years old I was too young to incur any serious repercussions. I could tell she actually thought it was somewhat cute, but she told me that I still needed to ask Sarah to give back the jewelry. However, a testament to how amazing my mother is... instead of being mad at me, she went out and bought a locket for me to give to Sarah.

Go Postal!

Disclaimer: the following entry will only be understood by those who watch Seinfeld. If this does not include you, during the time that you would have spent reading this entry you shoud go figure out what's wrong with you for not watching this epic sitcom.

As I was walking to class, approaching me was an overweight postal worker with glasses and brown curly hair. He was strolling along while pushing a mail cart with a smug grin on his face. After we crossed paths and he was a few feet behind me, I said under my breath in the best Jerry Seinfeld imitation I could muster, "Newman!"

I didn't intend for him to hear me, and the statement was purely for my own amusement. Nonetheless, the postal worker turned around and said, "excuse me?!?" By the tone of his voice it became immediately evident that he understood the joke and didn't find it all that funny. With no intention of initiating an altercation, I just pretended like I didn't hear him and walked away....

Perry The Shrink

In a recent post I discussed one of the drawbacks to living in a high-rise. However, such living arrangements also have their benefits. One of those advantages is having a doorman. Clearly not all doormen are very outgoing and personable. This is understandable since it isn't exactly the most enlightening and fulfilling profession. Nonetheless, one of my doormen has an incredibly good-natured and amicable personality, with a remarkably caring disposition.

His name is Perry, and as you can probably tell already, I'm quite fond of him. Unfortunately, I don't get to see Perry as often as I'd like because he works the graveyard shift (12am-8am). However, I think the status of my relationship with him is a direct result of those hours. When I first moved into my building, I was somewhat embarrassed to come home at 3 or 4am slightly more than tipsy. Thus our initial conversations were brief and didn't go much deeper than mere small talk.

Yet as time progressed, and these late-night encounters became more frequent, the subject matter became increasingly meaningful. It's no secret that people tend to be significantly more forthright while intoxicated, and demonstrate a much greater willingness to share information that they normally wouldn't share if sober. While this may have been the case at times, I also developed a strong sense of comfort with Perry which enabled me to disclose an assortment of personal matters with him. I also realized that he was very insightful, and never failed to furnish helpful advice, words of wisdom, or consolation if necessary.

It has now gotten to the point where I confide in Perry on a regular basis, and look forward to his feedback in return. I am genuinely grateful to have someone with whom I can discuss any subject matter, and have complete assurance in his confidentiality. Now that I've revealed my little confidant, some of you may try coercing him into divulging our little secrets. And while I'm certain you'll never get him to crack, unlike doctors and lawyers I'm not sure if he is legally bound by a doorman-tenant privilege.

Something To Celebrate About

This morning I couldn't help but think to myself how many girlfriends and wives must be elated now that the football season has come to a close. They no longer have to experience the feelings of inferiority that result from being neglected on account of an athletic event.

As people file out of their Super Bowl parties, I recommend that these girls get together to have a party of their own and celebrate the return of their man's devotion. Rejoice ladies! For the only thing that now stands between you and your partner's undivided attention is, well, other ladies.

A Big Departure From Old-Fashioned

For those of you who don't know, I live in a high-rise and we have a large laundry room down on the mezzanine level. I was doing laundry one afternoon, and when my clothes were done drying I brought them over to a large table and proceeded to fold them next to a homely looking elderly woman.

Now, some would say that I have an inquisitive personality and am generally curious by nature. However, I suspect that when folding laundry in the presence of others, most people will subconsciously take an innocent glance at the other person's items. Well, as I did so my discovery was simply appalling. This 70, maybe 80 year old woman of sizeable proportions had an arsenal of exotic undergarments!! And I don't mean just a standard thong or two, I'm talking zebra and leopard print, stuff with sequins, g-strings, garters, the works! I believe the reason for my dismay was the mental image I got of this lady in that attire.

Due to serious inherent dangers, the sale of alcohol to minors is illegal. Similarly, they should prohibit the sale of this type of clothing to seniors. I really think she should stick to more traditional forms of underwear. After all, they're called granny-panties for a reason.....

Be Wary of Non-Dog Lovers

If someone proclaims that they do not like dogs, I strongly recommend that you stop and immediately question this individual. There are only two justifiable reasons that a person can have for not liking dogs: either they are allergic, or they were the unfortunate victim of a savage canine attack. But falling outside this scope may speak volumes about their character.

Someone who dislikes dogs for no reason clearly lacks the warmth and compassion that we look for in a companion (platonic or otherwise). I have a feeling that this person is entirely incapable of showing affection, and doesn't know the meaning of the word passionate. They probably find hand holding and cuddling as enjoyable as a root canal. But hey, if you're looking for someone insensitive and emotionless, maybe they are your type.

Say What?

At the bars last night a friend of mine, we'll call him "Dude," approached a highly attractive and scantily clad female. He began talking to her, probably attempting a pre-rehearsed bit he had been using with nominal success. As I observed the conversation from a distance, I noticed very little, if any, input on her part. Dude seemed to be doing all the talking. Mid-sentance, another girl approached and the two girls began conversing in sign language. At that point Dude concluded, "Oh, no wonder she wasn't really talking to me, she's deaf!" He therefore told the two ladies to have a nice evening, and they parted ways.

Now I can only derive two possible conclusions based on the aforementioned facts. Either the girl really was deaf, in which case I feel sorry for her and hope she is managing well with her disability. (I have a feeling it doesn't deter most guys from being interested in her because she was REALLY hot). Now in the other plausible scenario, perhaps this girl was not really deaf. I have trouble overlooking the possibility that the two girls have developed an intricate premeditated scheme to incorporate in just that type of situation. If one of them is approached by a guy that they don't particularly feel talking to, the other will abruptly interrupt with some sign language, it's brilliant! I give them much credit for devising such a convincing strategy to extradite themselves from an undesirable conversation. Then again, maybe she really was deaf....

My Bad...

I kinda gave up on this lil blog deal, but I've had alotta time on my hands now that I'm on break so I thought I'd give it a second try. I guess I'll open my comeback with a somewhat embarassing event that transpired a few weeks ago.

I went out with some friends one evening and got a little more than tipsy (not an uncommon occurrence). The entire night I was running into people that I hadn't seen in a long time. At one point I thought I spotted a friend of mine who I hadn't seen in a matter of years. His back was turned to me, but I nonetheless was positive it was him. Being the drunken fool that I am, I approached him from behind and kneed him in the ass as hard as I could. He turned around, and to my dismay I had never seen this individual before in my life!!! He wasn't too pleased, but all I could say was "my bad" and walk away...

A True Story

The FBI had an opening for an assassin. After all the background checks, interviews, and testing were done there were 3 finalists; two men and one woman.
For the final test, the FBI agents took one of the two men to a large metal door and handed him a gun. "We must know you will follow instructions no matter what the circumstances. Inside the room you will find your wife sitting in a chair, KILL HER!!!!"

The man said, "You can't be serious, I could never shoot my wife." The agent said, "Then you are not the man for the job, take your wife and go home."

The second man was given the same instructions. He took the gun and went into the room. All was quiet for about 5 minutes. The man came out with tears in his eyes, "I tried, but I can't kill my wife". The agent said, "you don't have what it takes. Take your wife and go home."

Finally, it was the woman's turn. She was given the same instructions, to kill her husband. She took the gun and went into the room. Shots were heard one after another. They heard screaming, crashing, banging on the walls. After a few minutes all was quiet. The door opened slowly and there stood the woman. She wiped the sweat from her brow. and said, "This gun was loaded with blanks, I had to beat him to death with the chair."

The Obese Need a PR Overhaul

In accordance with my generally sensitive demeanor, I normally would never come forward with a title like that. And I may not have done so had I only endured one noteworthy experience with the morbidly obese, but two incidents compelled me to write this entry. As if society doesn’t look down on these people enough, they could be a little more conscientious of behavior that would "feed" the exceedingly negative attitude towards them.

I grabbed lunch at McDonald’s this afternoon (I know, I’m a lard-ass myself, so this whole post is sort of like the pot calling the kettle black). You never know who you might run into at McDonald’s, but the one on State and Chicago is known for attracting only the most appealing of characters. Although I will concede that I was enjoying my grilled chicken sandwich, an astonishing site suddenly left me without an appetite. A grotesquely overweight man three tables away from me had fallen asleep while eating. He was clearly out cold. And I don’t mean he just put his double quarter-pounder down and nodded off, he actually had 3 fries hanging out the corner of his mouth like cigarettes. I was somewhat concerned that he’d die of asphyxiation if he started snoring.

It's no secret that you run the risk of encountering some questionable individuals any time you use Chicago’s public transportation. After leaving the library late one night, I was on the bus sitting across from a guy who took up 3 seats and seemed to have never-ending chins. While this was not the first time I’ve seen a man of that stature, what really drew my attention was that he held an ice cream cone but was not eating it. This seemed rather unusual to me because he looked like a man who truly enjoyed his ice cream. He just stared at it, and looked as though he was faced with quite a dilemma. Apparently, he wanted to eat his ice cream but refused to part ways with the big wad of gum he was chewing. So he decided to stick the gum on his forehead and commenced devouring his frozen snack. (I have a wonderful picture of it on my phone to assure the doubtful)

Fitting In

We have a great path along the lakefront out here in Chicago. As many of you probably know, I picked up rollerblading this summer and really "fell" for it. I was having trouble sleeping late one night, and decided to go for a skate to clear my head. So for no apparent reason, I strapped on my blades and just started heading north. With no real destination, I was casually paying attention to directions so I could make it back.

I generally use the streets instead of the sidewalks, but felt especially comfortable doing so because hardly any cars were out. Although it was dark outside, I was making my way through a colorful neighborhood in Wrigleyville, commonly referred to as "Boystown." Adhering to all traffic signals, I stopped and waited at a red light. A car with about 4 gentlemen in it pulled up alongside me. One of them rolled down the window and said, "hey hottie." I was momentarily stunned by the situation that presented itself before me, and had no idea how to respond. Then, with a flick of my wrist, and the most flaming voice I could muster, I said, "oh stop, you probably say that to all the boys," The light turned green and they drove off giggling like school-girls.

Spend The Extra Dollar

I'm never buying a used book again. The previous owner of my Fed Tax casebook clearly was an idiot. This buffoon must have gone out of his way to highlight only the most irrelevant and immaterial information he could find. All he does is draw my attention away from what is pertinent. I hate you previous owner!

What's more unlikely?

What's more unlikely? The U.S. discovering weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, scientists discover that McDonald's is actually good for you, Salma Hayek discovers that she has been in love with me her entire life, or the White Sox win the pennant? Clearly the first three possibilities are much more likely to take place before the last one.

It's hard to explain why I am in such awe of what just transpired. Perhaps it's because as a Sox fan you start to accept the fact that post season success is unattainable. You come to the realization that October baseball is not part of the package deal when you signed up to be a Sox fan. These sentiments are reinforced by year after year of disappointment. Which makes me think, the number of years I've been waiting pales in comparison to some of the old-timers. After 46 years, they are completely desensitized to the sting of constant failure. As nostalgic as this is for me, I can't begin to imagine how surreal this must be for them.

Although the seemingly endless wait made the achievement monumental, additional factors contributed to its uniqueness. Before the season even began, it was nothing we hadn't heard before when every sports analyst in the nation discounted the Sox. As the season progressed, the instant it became clear that they were by far the hottest team in baseball, the question asked by all was, "It's only a matter of time, so when will they collapse?" Just three short weeks ago, it seemed as though we were going to get the answer to that question. Most had this team dead and buried, they were on the verge of an unprecedented breakdown. Sox haters jumped at the opportunity to taunt and belittle its fans over the apparently imminent downfall. But the near debacle turned out to be a blessing in disguise as it provided a surge of confidence said to have contributed to their post season conquests.

In addition, unlikely consequences may result from this event. I wouldn't be surprised if my feelings of animosity towards Cubs fans will be replaced with feelings of empathy. Sure I'll still be envious of the fact that they will always draw significantly more attention from the city. But now that the Red Sox and White Sox have alleviated their World Series droughts, I must admit that it brought a big smile to my face when I realized that the Cubs are now the most pathetic team in the history of baseball. I guess when it all boils down, I'd rather be a fan of a successful but unpopular team than an unsuccessful but trendy one. And sure I'll be disappointed if they don't win it all. But even getting swept in the World Series couldn't put a damper on how remarkable this is.

This Bandwagon is Full

Some people don't deserve to be called fans. A genuine fan demonstrates unwavering loyalty and dedication to one team regardless of the circumstances. With the White Sox playing as well as they are, I've noticed an abundance of "born-again" Sox fans. This could not be more disturbing. At the beginning of the season, these people couldn't name 2 players on the team, and provided no support throughout the regular season. But suddenly, when the Sox are on the verge of going to the world series, they could not be more proud to claim that they are Sox fans. And here's the icing on the cake, in 2003 when the Cubs were in the same position, they did the same damn thing!! (Steve Bartman is my hero by the way). I was in Bloomington at the time, and even there it was bad, so I can't even imagine what it was like in Chicago. Think back to how many fresh, crisp, brand new Cubs hats you saw? Or jerseys with the tag practically still on them??

This type of fair-weather favoritism is simply deplorable. At the beginning of the season, these faithless people either have no interest in the game, or haphazardly claim to be Cubs fans because that's the "cool" thing to do out here on the north side. They just sit back and wait to see which team emerges as the better one, and decides that's who they will favor. The reason why this behavior is so bothersome is because this type of fan intentionally structures their involvement in a manner which allows them to experience only the glory of victory and never the agony of defeat. So here's the bottom line, if I find out that you were rooting for the Cubs in '03 and are now pulling for the Sox....you and I have problems, because you're a despicable excuse of a "fan."

A Brief Tutorial

HOW TO SATISFY A WOMAN: kiss her, compliment her, cuddle with her, listen to her, comfort her, support her, protect her, stand up for her, spend your life savings on her, go to the ends of the earth for her.

HOW TO SATISFY A MAN: show up naked...bring beer

Gunner Bingo

Although this exciting game can be played in any institution, it works particularly well in law school because there’s an abundance of "gunners." A gunner is one of those students who is excessively ambitious and wants the rest of the class to know it. They raise their hand at every opportunity because they can't hear enough of their own voice. In their mind, the professor's ass has never sufficiently been kissed, and they feel compelled to flaunt their intellect to anyone willing to listen.
During my first year, I sat in the back row with three of my closest friends. Playing Gunner Bingo afforded us the opportunity to pass time during class and simultaneously ridicule our classmates. Because a gunner's outgoing tendencies are highly apparent, it took us no time at all to ascertain who they were. Every other Thursday the four of us would pool together $5-10 per person, and fill in blank bingo charts with the names of the gunners. Each time a gunner raised their hand, their name was crossed off the list and the first person to get a bingo won.
Feel free to incorporate this engaging game in your own classroom environment...

The Importance of Proof Reading

After turning in a memo during my first year of legal writing, our professor thought it would be a good idea to stress the importance of thoroughly proof reading our work. Although his tale was short, it was exceptionally convincing....
When he was an associate at Kirkland & Ellis (a highly prestigious and very distinguished firm) he submitted to the court a brief in response to a motion for summary judgment. Later that week the brief was returned to him by the clerk because the judge said that it could not be admitted as a result of its impropriety. After re-reading his brief, circled in big red pen my professor noticed that what he intended to say needed some "assisting" actually needed a good "ass-fisting"
-Apparently the spell-check feature has no sense of vulgarity.