You're Welcome, Society

I was just driving along Hollywood Boulevard, filled with rage at the obscene traffic caused by a concert at the Hollywood Bowl. When you're stuck in a standstill at 11PM on a Saturday night after being at a dinner party in the Valley, your patience runs out very rapidly. Mine does, anyway.

As I was sitting there, I noticed the guy to my left, driving a car in the opposite direction, also stuck in the horrible traffic. I am not kidding at all when I tell you that this guy was literally - not figuratively - literally, sleeping at the wheel.


I mean, this guy was out. Mouth open, totally unconscious. Two full car lengths of open space in front of him. Since my window was down, I screamed "WAKE UP!!!" at the top of my lungs. As I drove off I just barely managed to see him snap out of his slumber, terrified, and realize he was piloting an automobile on a busy street.

There's no telling how many lives I saved tonight. And I got to shout at a stranger. My work here is done.

Please be Kidding

"The plan for Alex (Smith) is unchanged. He has the ability and license to be the starting quarterback and so does (2nd round draft pick) Colin (Kaepernick). We want to get the best players on our roster, throw the balls out there and let them compete." - San Francisco 49ers head coach Jim Harbaugh


Pardon me for being blunt, Mr. Harbaugh, but are you completely fucking retarded? You're the highly coveted new coach of a once proud, currently embarrassing football franchise. I'm just a simple fan, but are you seriously considering starting off your first season coaching in the NFL with Alex Smith as your starting quarterback? How many terrible seasons does this guy have to fart his way through before he loses his job? Two more? Three? The six seasons he's put together sucking testicles doesn't count for anything?


A word of advice, Harbaugh: FIND ANOTHER QUARTERBACK. Your popularity in the Bay Area will skyrocket once you just start looking around.

Nice Little Monday Morning

What better way to start off the week than by having my cell phone vibrate 117 consecutive times at 7:30 AM, having been flooded with returned emails from defunct email addresses, indicating that my Gmail account has somehow been hacked for the second time in as many weeks?

Not only do I have to endure the annoying embarrassment of having promotional emails appear in people's in-boxes who I haven't spoken to in years, I also have the pleasure of spending my morning changing the password on my account, which inevitably leads to a phone call to Sprint to be able to keep getting emails on my Blackberry. Highly aggravating. I have to take an extra Crestor today.

Please, computer hackers, I beg you: STOP HACKING ME. None of my acquaintances are going to start drinking acai berry juice, or whatever the fuck it is you're trying to trick people into believing I'm pushing on them. Leave us alone. Go hack into a government site, someplace where you can really do some damage. Google actually alerted me to the fact that someone had accessed my account from Saudi Arabia. Don't you people have more important shit going on over there? Terrorism and uprisings, that sort of thing? Figure out how to put your technological prowess towards advancing those goals.

By the way, Google, crackerjack job you're doing protecting your users from this sort of thing. I have absolutely no appreciation for the decade of free email service you've provided me. You suck.

Oh, and for all you people actually responding to this spam, writing back to ask me if I've been hacked, allow me to answer you collectively: YES, I HAVE BEEN HACKED. Thanks for being part of the 5% of people I've ever emailed to think I may have actually intentionally sent you an email containing only a web address for vitamin supplements, and then creating another 25 emails I have to go through by asking me about it. Please, for both our sakes, next time you get an email from me with the subject heading "Hullo There!!!"...just delete it.

What a Twist!

I just spent the weekend with my family in Phoenix, my Least Favorite City in America (although to be fair, I haven't yet been to Cleveland, Detroit, or New Shitstainberg, Delaware). The locale itself was actually not the subject of today's ire; everything went swimmingly until my final meal before leaving.

It was breakfast, this morning at the hotel. The service was bad. Specifically, our waiter was very slow taking our order and bringing out the food. Worse than that, he was condescending. He made little feather-ruffling quips here and there, such as when my uncle ordered egg whites with broccoli, and he said "I have to see if we have that. That's not a normal menu item." It wasn't exactly the content of what he said, but they way he said it that chapped my lips. It was downright snooty. (Snooty? Snotty. Snotty?!?! Five bucks if you can name the movie.)

Anyway, later on in the meal, a busboy brought out the scoop of cottage cheese my aunt had ordered a half hour earlier, and she politely refused it, saying she was no longer hungry. When the waiter came back, my grandfather's wife informed him of this development.

"Oh, okay. I'll take it off the bill. Somebody had to be served last."

Can you believe that? He actually said that. "Somebody had to be served last."

I turned and looked up at him. "What an asshole," I said, chuckling in disbelief.

"Excuse me?" he said, incredulous. 

" 'Somebody had to be served last?' Are you kidding me? You're a fucking prick, man." The waiter didn't know what to say, so I continued. "You say that like you brought everyone's food out at once, happened to set her cottage cheese down last, and she complained about it. As opposed to what really happened, which is that you took a half hour to scoop some cottage cheese into a fucking bowl and trot it out here."

"I said I was sorry--" the waiter began to stammer.

"No you didn't. At no point did you attempt to apologize. You just said you'd take it off the bill. How does not charging someone for something they didn't eat constitute an apology?"

"I don't appreciate your language," the bastard sniveled, trying to assert himself. 

"I don't appreciate anything about you," I shot back. "Bring your manager out here, post haste!" The waiter muttered something and disappeared. Five minutes later, his manager came over to speak to me, a middle-aged British woman. I explained to her what had happened, and the waiter was fired on the spot. Then he went home and hung himself.

You might presume that the subject of this kvetch was our jerkoff waiter. But you'd be wrong. In fact, more than anything, I was annoyed with myself, as that entire interaction, after the waiter said "Somebody had to be served last," occurred only in my mind, several minutes after he had left the table, having not at all been put in his place, and with an inflated, unchecked air of self-righteousness. 

One of the many instances when I wish my life had a rewind button.

More Celebrity Lookalikes

Wisconsin Congressman Paul Ryan vs. Gabe from "The Office"

PS - Good job not shutting down the government over abortion rights. USA! USA!

Most Recent Cool Thing I Said to a Dodger Fan:

"Sorry, I have to take this home and piss on it."

-in response to a sweet girl in Dodger gear who noticed I was a Giants fan and politely asked me for the giveaway Dodger Snuggie I was carrying out of the game tonight at Dodger Stadium.

I Object

I was watching coverage of Barry Bonds's perjury trial, and they showed this illustration from the courtroom:

Honestly, is there anything more outdated than the courtroom sketch artist? Why is this still the way images are recorded from trials? In the 19th century, I get it. There was no other option besides having someone draw what was happening. But now?

Are cameras not allowed in courtrooms, for some reason? Wasn't the O.J. trial televised? The very fact that they have a guy illustrating these ridiculous cartoons and releasing them to the press is proof that we're supposed to see what's going on...kind of. Why does our judicial system still prefer this slightly less accurate, MUCH more costly and time-consuming medium to actual photographs?

Since our government has such a nostalgia for these antiquated sketches, I'm going to go down to the DMV and demand they replace my driver's license photo with this: