Tonight

I will be spending the night at my parent's place trying to get some R & R and kick this cold. It's my own fault really. I was the one who thought it was a good idea to go out drinking the past four days, immune system be damned. Whatever: work hard, play hard (perhaps the gayest personal mantra ever).

Anyways I'm at home in the Ville, caught myself a much needed end-of-week nap and had some quality home-cookin'. I figured watch a DVD and lull myself to sleep when, "what do we have here?" I do declare, my baby has detected a wireless signal emanating from whereabouts unknown. Oh sweet, sweet glorious wireless connection. How I love to siphon you. And to think all time at home used to be known for an abundance of Dunks and the occasional Frostee.

Ahoy mateys

Yar today be national talk like a pirate day. Why? Because that's what the high seas be declared. Arrrgh!

Before I go off to pillage me some booty I leave you with me pirate namesake:

My pirate name is:

Red William Bonney

Passion is a big part of your life, which makes sense for a pirate. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network

Football, sausage, whiskey, cigars and best friends aka All you have to fear is fear itself

In a perfect world, my best girl and my best guy would be best friends too. You know the ones that can make more than awkward small talk when I have to use the bathroom. The ones that know my deepest secrets and make fun of me for them (shakes fist angrily). Well it's not a perfect world, as we all know too well, but hey I had a second chance at something wonderful, so maybe things will work out for the best with everyone.

And if not, know that we are all very different people. Four years and living does that to you.

I appreciate everyone for understanding. I wasn't lying, I just wasn't telling the truth - and it's been killing me:

M:L
L:M

Not a tv within 500 feet

Fucking internet!

It's Sunday during football season...this post is coming from inside of my local coffee shop/bread cafe, courtesy of their free ($2.08 for an apple danish) wireless internet.

Wireless crapped out and I need to get some work done. Afternoon plans of grilling up some Italians and watching 8+ hours of football while working have been put on hold.

Alright going to bang some stuff out and make it back for the second half of the first games, sans wireless to check my fantasy teams...oof.

ALRIGHT BACK IN ACTION

Quesos Banditos rides again!

Nothing says "!arriba, arriba!" like a good old-fashioned taco crawl. That's right. It's a day-time sojurn to some of the area's finest (and no so finest) taquerias. Part pub crawl, part gastronomical extravaganza, part marauding band of teetle-tollers.

After the holy-trinity of tacos: a chicken, pork, steak; half a steak burrito; side of salad and part of some sort of disappointing pupusa I was fairly full, not the overstuffed contentness I normally feel, but I knew I had a long "walk" back to my friend's appartment (hence the crawl) where nachos, a variety of salsas and punchbowls full of sangria awaited.

Observations:

• In the areas less gentrified areas, shall we say, Italian dressing is a table-top staple at area restaurants. When asked what it was used for, the local 16-year old waiter said, "some people use it on salad and other stuff."
  
• Taquerias and Mexican food in general is a pretty good racket. I'm not the first one to observe: cheese/meat/salsa + corn or flour tortilla + wrap/fold/press = the majority of Mexican cusine, at a pretty good price margin to boot.
  
• God, I don't want to live in Sommerville.
  

Rekindling old flames

We've all had [because I know I've had] that one really, really awesome girlfriend back when you were young and new to this whole thing called love. You know the one, the one who's "cute" and you think you'll be with her your whole life, but things don't end up working out because she's friggin' insane. And of course the next time you see her, she's dropped like 20 lbs., let her hair grow out and seems to have become an taken to going to spin classes 5 days out of the week. Oh yeah, she also just bought her own place...in the the Upper East Side...penthouse.

Zzzsh... well that was my night.

All in good fun, though. Just another night with some old friends back at the Hive for their housewarming (the evite said Hive-harming, but that was really gay. Nonetheless, oh how you've grown up little Bzz. Sweet pad for real. South end, must have cost a pretty penny by the looks of thing. I wish the cafe and lounger were around back in the day. Heck, I'd glad I skipped the Hatch Awards for you. It was an easy choice really. It was an honor to be nominated for an award, but I got the word that I missed my golden statue, plus the Open Bar v. Cash Bar made it a no-brainer.

So yeah, an old-time reunion if you will. Heck I brought 2 former Drones with me. And it was good to see everyone. From Balter to Jono, with every Val and Fletch in between. Plus, what's a Hive Party without a Toof?

Oh yeah, that and the Architect [SWOON...SIGH]

So yeah the office pretty much doubled in space, but more about the little touches. Like the flat screens for presentations, Full time receptionist, heck even real HR. Ha. I guess that's the spoils for selling out on your .com-era, rickety table, bball hoop in the office look.

Word Bzz. Stay classy.

Life is not a John Cusack movie

1) I can't argue this any better than Klosterman and others but I'll try.

2) This is not a battle-cry against all chick-flicks. I've been known to a hand-holder or two in my day. Never been a Hanks/Ryan fan, but that lovable English bloke sure knows how to pack 'em in.

Debating this point with any female (as most discussions with the fairer sex tend to be) is completely and utterly futile. You see for women ages 20-35 (these are the only ones that really matter in this discussion) Lloyd Dobbler, John Cusack's character in Say Anything, has come to represent the male ideal. I've never seen the film before, but practically every one of my female friends have and they continually list it amongst their all-time favorites. Chief reasons among them is Lloyd and what he encounters/deals with to get the girl. (There's something about $2 in there as well, that also baffles me.)

I don't have anything wrong with Cusack. I even like some of his movies. The thing that bothers me, again echoed much more eloquently and convincingly by Klosterman, is that he has for all intents and purposes set impossibly unattainable standards by which men are judged. That's the rub, from his very first Dobbler-ian moment. "He’s the perpetual underdog. The Cusack quasi-hero is not governed by his groin, but by principles like integrity and authenticity."

The female (and sackless "friend") argument is that there are nice guys out there. Yes. Yes that is true. I consider myself a "nice guy." Nicer than 89% of the XX-challanged folks out there. But where do I, and the majority of men differ from Lloyd? The fact that I/we don't have a crack team of writers scripting out my every longing glance, my every heartfelt line of dialogue. In fact you know who's actually writing those chic-flik stanzas? Me. Guys who wear their heart on their sleeves and know how to actually listen, but have also told countless lies and half-truths to endear myself to the fairer-sex.

The difference is in how things are seen/phrased. To bed. To woo. Perhaps I'm being a bit Draconian in all this, but quite frankly the impossible standards set forth by Dobbler are the same set forth by the breathtakingly beautiful, hotty McHotpants Jessica Alba. If a real guy was to ever serenade you with "In Your Eyes", he would have to be 1) uncontrollably unoriginal, 2) trying to get in your pants as hard as humanely possible.

At the same time, the magical wonders of airbrushing and breast augmentation are seen as a false reality that women are unable to achieve. Yes, maybe so. And while specimens such as Scarlett Johansson do exist are they are in fact elusive because they are so unattainable? Whereas everyday "guys" such as Dobbler are just that? No more than the cute guy you meet in the record store or the one who sits in the cube two rows down.

Cusack's greatest crime has been to carry the Dobbler-ian character throughout his movies. I loved High Fidelity (both the movie and Hornby's novel) and while a mix-tape says "I love you," in ways no jewelery can, let's be honest withourselves shall we. As for the Serendipity, America's Sweethearts, Must Love Dogs threesome? The man knows where his bread is buttered. Then again, the man kick boxes and pulls more tail than I ever will in a million lifetime's.

I know this post was iniated by a conversation I had with a female friend regarding the status of her on/off, pseudo- guy situation. I don't know how it got here, but again, we only have John Cusack to thank. Basically what I'm saying is that the kiss/music/credits ending only happen in Hollywood for a reason.