Karaoke Madness Tonight!

Hello, gentle reader. If you are looking at this from within the NYC area (or are willing to travel) why not come on down to Planet Rose (219 Avenue A near 13th Street) tonight at or after 8pm? My girlfriend and I will be celebrating our birthdays (mine on 6/21 and hers on 7/13) with a little something we like to call "behaving like asses."

There will be some serious karaoke. And because it is not at my home, all are welcome! What the hell do I care? Come on down!

I won't promise anything specific, but if you were planning to bet against my doing some hardcore Bon Jovi, I think it would be a big, big mistake.

Even if you don't want to sing, come on down and look at me. And if you can't stop by, try to at least think about looking at me sometime around 8pm Eastern Standard Time tonight. Your attention is what I live for.

Getting Organized- the Jeff Mac Way!!!

Well, it's summer, and that means that it's time to get your act together. Well, maybe it's not time NOW, but it is most certainly time for me to type that last sentence. A little past time, if you ask me. I mean, I did just type it a moment ago. It can't be time to do that now. Not again already.

LESSON 1: Don't get bogged down. It's so easy to get caught up in crap like that last paragraph. It's all nonsense. Or at least mostly. Well, let's say 70/30. Deal. See how easy that was? You just make a meaningless bargain with yourself, and then move on. Shall we?

LESSON 2: Give up. It's important to understand that if you had the capacity to get organized, you'd have done it by now. Wouldn't you? Of course you would have. But you didn't. Did you? No. No, you didn't. You just screwed around, and pissed your life away, and now you're here, reading this crap.

LESSON 3: Beat yourself up. Getting organized is hard work, and you'll never get there if you…well, you'll just never get there (See Lesson 2).

How about some practical tips that you can try right now to help to unleash your inner whatever? Sound good? No? Great!

TIP 1: Clean your workspace. Some people recommend a methodical approach, taking each item in your work area one by one and making a tough decision about what to do with it. But that sounds way too hard. I recommend kerosene or wolves. Either option will really change the look of your desk area.

TIP 2: Make an appointment with yourself, FOR yourself. This means that for however long you have specified, there is to be no working, no reading, no checking your e-mail, no defiling your body. This is time for absolutely nothing. You just sit there and do nothing. It's totally going to blow.

TIP 3: Use Index Cards. The index card is a very common tool used by many, many people to get organized. Here's my method. When someone comes to check on your progress on a deadline, take out an index card and slit their throat with the edge of it. Then, soak up the blood with more index cards. Finally, write down the location of the shallow grave where you dump the body on an index card, and then burn that index card so no one ever finds out. It's fun!

TIP 4: Use visible ink! This one is so often overlooked. I can't tell you how many times I've written down the most brilliant idea ever conceived only to be thwarted by my insistence upon using invisible ink. Or no ink at all. I often just point at a notebook and try to tell it what I mean. This works great when it works, but unfortunately it never does.

Next time, we'll show you how to organize your kitchen area, simply by not minding how messy it is!

Dear Jackhammer Operator,

Hi! I just wanted to drop you a quick note to let you know that I'm a huge fan! I've been following your work since hours and hours ago when you began, and I am blown away. I especially appreciate that you decided to get the jackhammering work done at dawn. I would hate to start my day off with a false sense of peace on earth. No, really. You're right. Life IS that chaotic and loud, even at sunrise. You humble me, sir. You have shown me the jackhammer of my soul. And for that, I thank you.

As a side note, It looks like you're working on the sewer line. Hurray! I hope this portends brown and cloudy water for me like it usually does when you do your little magic show. I don't want this experience to end when you finish for the day. Or when you fall into that hole and die. Just kidding, ha ha ha. Ha ha ha.

Well, that's all for now, you magnificent bastard. Keep up the good work -- as if I could stop you! I dream that I'll see you again one day, maybe playing a gong outside the hospital. Or at the library, throwing grenades.

Sincerely,

-a fan

Dear Brooklyn Jury Clerk,

I don't know if you remember me, but you were the Jury Clerk (or Jury Wrangler, if you prefer) 4 years ago, the last time I served jury duty. I know you see a lot of potential jurors and you can't possibly remember every one of us. I just thought you might, you know...wow, this is harder than I thought it was going to be. Ok. Don't get emotional, don't get emotional. I just...I felt like I had made an impression, and...and when you acted like you had never seen me before...I don't know. I'm trying to understand.

Anyway, I had a couple of quick items for you. You know, if you have the time.

• How badly do you have to fuck up in life to not only get this job, but also to keep it for (at least) 4 years? What happened -- were you taking the civil service exam and accidentally set it on fire?
• Those jokes about "how enthusiastic we all seem" -- why stop at 5 times in one day? That's your A material, man. Use it!

I guess that's all for now. But I just wanted you to know that every time you let on that you were disgusted with all of us in the jury pool...well, you made me feel like the only soul crushing annoyance in your world. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Jeff "millionth juror you've seen and hated" Mac

Dear Guy who got to my site by Googling "Darryl Hall 2005"

First, a little background -- in my web statistics, I can tell how the last 10 people to view my site got here (i.e. if you clicked here from the website of one of my friends who has put a link to me on their site, I can tell that's how you got here.)

I can't tell who is doing the clicking (unless your internet service provider has the word "Arkansas" or "Australia" in it, and then I have a pretty decent idea who you are!) The point is, I don't know who was Googling "Darryl Hall 2005."

So, to that guy or gal, if you ever come back:

Wow. I bet you were surprised, weren't you? And probably more than a little disappointed. Gosh, I know I am.

Sincerely,

-Jeff "Neither Hall nor Oates" Mac

The Worst Old Sci Fi I've Ever Watched in its Entirety

I've done it. I've found the worst one. Well, so far. Remember, you are reading the words of a man who can say (with real feeling) how Pumpkinhead II: Blood Wings is a shitty sequel because it is not true to the premise of Pumpkinhead. Seriously. And these are the movies I get to watch when the lady of the house is out of town.

The film I saw this weekend is called "At the Earth's Core." It stars Peter Cushing and...other people. Just forget about those people. Not important. At all.

Ok, this is a film about 2 Victorian men who build a drill-to-the-center-of-the-earth machine. And they do it. And then end up in a place where there are English-speaking humans enslaved by hypnotic bird dinosaurs. Awesome.

By the way, there is no mention of the amazing coincidence that these subterranean people can speak English. Not even a, "Huh, they speak perfect English. Wonder how?" I think the director (wisely) figured out that if you're going to concern yourself with such things, you're not his target demographic.

The first real crap moment is when a dinosaur is chasing Our Hero and Peter Cushing (who is shooing it away with his umbrella.) The special effects are of the guy-in-a-rubber-suit school. And terrible even by those standards. If the guy who directed the old Godzilla movies had been presented with these designs, he would have said, "Listen, I know I'm a shitstain on the world of film, but I really can't work with this."

There was a dinosaur on dinosaur battle that looked for all the world as if 2 fratboys got hammered, put on Barney suits, and beat the shit out of each other.

There was a moment when the main guy was fighting a...uh...thing, and I swear I saw one of the extras actually laughing while on camera.

My favorite sequence came when Our Hero was running around with Peter Cushing, doing whatever the hell they were doing (genuinely unimportant to know these things, even as you're watching), and they stumble across the Pretty Cavegirl. She is being attacked by a giant, fire-breathing frog. (To help you picture how this was achieved, imagine a blowtorch inside of a giant frog statue, because it didn't move.)

Ok, so Our Hero leaps in to save Pretty Girl, but they are pinned down by frogtorch fire. Here's the awesome part. In those 15 seconds, Peter Cushing's character makes a bow and arrow. As in, from scratch. He then kills the frog statue with it, which tumbles off a cliff, and EXPLODES as if it was a fuel truck.

I love this film so hard, it hurts.

Back from Jury Duty!

Hello, all. Sorry I haven't posted in a couple of days. I was on jury duty. It was delightful. I will post more on this, but just a few quick highlights of what I experienced in the Kings County Courthouse:

• I heard the loudest not-from-a-friend fart I have ever heard to date. Impressive. As in "Louis Armstrong solo" loud. At first I was disgusted. And then, after a moment, I continued to be disgusted.
• While being questioned by attorneys, one prospective juror made reference to the Law & Order "dun dun!" sound. The defendant, about to stand trial for attempted murder, actually covered his face in horror as he realized the intelligence level of his jury. (As a side note, she was selected for his jury. Good luck, fella!)
• I was not picked for that jury. Why? Because I would make an AWESOME juror. Frankly, I think they were all terrified of me. In the land of the dummies, the one-brained man is king.
• The juror orientation film made reference to Charlemagne. Good choice, State of New York. Way to understand your core audience and their interests.
• We were told about 10 times how EVERYONE has to serve no matter who they are. And by "we" I mean a room packed with low income people and nobody else.

More on this later!

Dear Crate & Barrel,

While wandering around your store, bored out of my skull, I had several questions for you. I was wondering if you could clear some things up for me.

1. Your couches are so comfy. How many times has someone sat down on one of them, and been so enchanted by the sheer couchiness that they stayed there until they wet themselves? The answer is not "never." You and I both know that. So how many?
2. How many times has there been an official therapy session held on one of your couches? I'm talking a licensed therapist, a patient, a little notebook, the whole thing, scheduled without your permission I'm sure. Again, I know it must have happened. I'm just looking for the numbers.
3. Why so many different waffle makers? Seriously.
4. Has anyone ever taken one of your pillows off a display bed, unzipped the liner, taken a crap inside of it, zipped it back up, and returned it to the bed?
5. Have you sold that pillow? Essentially, have you sold feces? How much of it? How much feces has Crate & Barrel sold since it was founded?

I await your answers with...well, with very little confidence that I'll hear from you. Don't break my heart, Crate & Barrel. Tell me the truth. For once!

Your pal,

Jeff Mac

Carnivorousness

I am not in favor of animal cruelty. Let me just say that right at the top. I am not completely heartless when it comes to animal rights. For example, I had a rabbit once. It was delicious.

That's my main problem with trying to be a vegetarian. It's the pure tastiness of eating stuff. I mean, it's not like chickens were going to live forever, you know. And even if they did, it's not like they bring much to the table as a species. Ever watch a chicken for more than a minute? Of course not. Why would you? They run through their entire chicken repertoire in about 20 seconds. The most impressive thing that a chicken will ever accomplish is being delicious to me.

Cows have it even worse. Not only are they boring when alive and scrumptious when dead, but wearing clothes made from their skin can actually get you laid. Burgers AND sex, vs. watching your boring ass wander around a pasture all day? Uh gee...let me think about that one for a--medium rare, please.

Let's face it -- animals are NOT our equals. They really aren't. Know how I know? Ok, take the most hardcore vegan on the planet, and put him on a deserted island with a cow, and only food enough to maintain one of them. What are they going to do, flip for it? Rock, paper, scissors?

Dear Guy at the T-Mobile Store:

Please learn anything about telephones. I mean it. Anything at all. Don't feel like you have to learn it all in one day. Just start with something. How about the prices of your phones? Or even one. You know, any of the phones in the case. Yes, that was the big, glass, case-like thing that was right between us.

I only mention it because when I asked you questions, the look on your face gave me the impression that I had interrupted a burglar who was now pretending to work there to get rid of me. And it was the burglar's first day on the job. Or possibly the Earth.

Good luck. I have every confidence that you will one day make exactly as terrible a customer service representative as you already do today.

Sincerely,

-Jeff Mac

MELTDOWN!

Can...not...blog....

Must eat...cake...instead!

Must...procrastinate more...effectively.

Blogging against own will....

Must find...strength...to...resist...finding strength...to blog.

Uh...confused self...slightly...

Oh no!

Continuing to...blog...(albeit lamely.)

Must shower.

Again.

Help, please...send...coffee ice cream...urgent...

--end transmission--

Solitaire

I was playing Solitaire on my Pocket PC* recently when I drew the attention of a local moron riding the train next to me. He was watching me play over my shoulder. And not only is that annoying, but...playing solitaire is sad enough, but electing to become a solitaire spectator? That is a special flavor of bored.

Anyway, It was clear that he had a question/comment. Finally, he worked up the nerve to ask me, "Can you cheat?"

"What?" I said."

"At solitaire. Can you cheat on that thing?"

"Why?" I asked.

"So you could win."

I didn't answer, but all I could think was this: I'm playing solitaire. Haven't I already lost?


*I know that they are normally used for personal organization, but it doesn't take a lot of effort to organize oneself when one has as little going on as I do. Scheduling for me goes like this:

"So, Jeff, are you busy on the 23rd of---?"
"No."
"But I didn't tell you which month."
"Go ahead, if you want to."
"July."
"Nope."
"What about on the--?"
"Let me just stop you right there. No. I'm free that day. I'm sure of it."

Hybrid car

I rented a hybrid car recently. A Prius, I believe. (As a side note, I would love to have the job of naming cars. "The new Ford Pimento!") The car was pretty cool, and I'm all for either helping the environment or infuriating the president. Either way is fine.

But there were really only a couple of things about this thing that I found new and interesting.

1. There is this incredible readout right on the dash, and it tells you if you are using fuel, electricity, are you charging, are you draining, etc. And that's what you want -- a dashboard that is chock full of stuff to read for when you get bored with looking at the road. That's one of my biggest pet peeves about conventional cars, is the almost total lack of interesting reading material for me to peruse while operating a several thousand pound machine.
   
   I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do about any of that information anyway. "I just went from gas to electric...uh...Hurray?"
   
   
2. This thing didn't have a key. No, sir. This blew my mind. See, in a normal, old-fashioned car, you take a KEY, you put it in a slot, and you can then drive the car. Not with a hybrid car, Methuselah. This baby has this little cartridge. Like a microcassette tape. And you put IT in a slot, and you can then drive the car.
   
   Take THAT, 20th century!

Kept. Oh, the humanity...

I saw a few minutes of "Kept" yesterday, and I'll tell you one thing about VH1 -- when it comes to trashy reality television, they aren't fucking around anymore. They are really going for the lowest common denominator jugular.

"Kept" is the tale of a bunch of young dudes who are competing to be Jerry Hall's boyfriend. Jerry Hall was with Mick Jagger for years, but they split up, and now she's looking for a new man. On a game show. So things are going well for her.

The guys have to pass various tests to become her boyfriend. I think they have already passed the most difficult test of all -- wanting to be her boyfriend. I'm pretty sure she has become a tranny.

Her voice has dropped several octaves (or maybe it was always this low) but she seems like a low voiced person trying to have a slightly higher voice. And she is...well...I bet back in the day when she went to 54 with Mick, there were flocks of drag queens who dreamed that they were her. Evidently, she decided to meet them halfway. At least.

All-weather lovin'

I just saw a commercial for Bridgestone tires. Very sexy couples dance in the rain. Just then, a tire rolls by. I guess the idea is to get me all horny, and then show me a beautiful tire that I can buy.

I think (and correct me if I'm wrong here) that the problem here is this: tires aren't very sexy. It really doesn't matter what you do TO a tire or NEAR a tire, it's not going to make me want to hump. And even if it did, humping doesn't make me want to buy a tire.

Sorry, Bridgestone. I know sex sells, it just doesn't sell tires. I'll believe a lot of stupid shit (that show on FOX about how we never landed on the moon even had me going for a second there) but even I can't be convinced that a new set of radials will get me some action.