Walk it off, kranki.

I don't think I mentioned a previous date that I went on. She had told me she was on crutches after having a knee operation and that was no big deal. It was all going very nicely and we were having a few drinks and talking about teaching and favorite spots in the city. That's when the young woman told me that she had just weeks before been informed that she had an incurable bone disease that will ultimately lead to her being confined to a wheel chair. That, as you can imagine, is a hard comment to respond to. "Wow, I said..." as I struggled for something positive to say "you're handling that news extremely well... good for you that you're not letting that stop you from doing things like going out and dating." Perhaps that's what people mean when they specify "must be disease free." I liked her and she asked me to call her. We actually planned to get together again but when she finally returned my call-- three weeks later, the luster had already worn away.

Cocktails and Wet Dreams: Rise of the Machines

I know that the title sounds like a porno starring Tom Cruise and Arnold Schwarzenegger and I'm sorry for putting that image in my head, and now, yours.

I'm really not the boldly go where no man has gone before explorer that I pretend to be, however when a friend of mine invited me to check out something called Dorkbot taking place at The Porn Palace my curiosity was peaked.

It was basically just a bunch of nerds getting together to drink and show off different robots that they'd constructed. Some were big, boring, chunks of welded metal that looked like some over-sized Frankensteinesque remote control car. And the robot doesn’t do anything? Cooll! Oh goodie they have slides of them building it in the garage… joy. They talked for what seemd forever and the most interesting part of the entire "talk" was the fact that one of the women had the last name Flybutter. Is that butter for flies or butter made out of flies? Fortunately there were some brilliant guys from Austria who were in town showing off some of their bartending robots. The cocktail making robot we got to meet was called Cockbot I. I'll give you a moment to giggle. Are you ready to read on? Okay, so this particular Cockbot mixes and pours martinis. I should also mention that the robot can read your mind. Really? Yes, really. It actually hooks up to electrodes on your head, reads your brainwaves and displays them with 3D graphics on a screen. The higher your alpha waves the dryer it makes the martini. It was simply impressive. After that some electrical engineer guy came out and did the most boring PowerPoint presentation I've ever seen. How one can make a presentation on cutting edge, computerized sex toys boring is beyond me. Just trust me when I say that this guy was the James Bond of boring sex toy chat. He was full-on 007 License to Kill a fun gathering. He does have a damn fine website. As the crowd was slipping off to escape, somebody at the Porn Palace broke out the Big Guns. I was not prepared.

I think the simplest way to explain it is to imagine taking a giant vibrator and hooking it up to the engine of a monster truck. If you can imagine that then you're on your way to grasping what a fucking machine is. When our host at the Porn Palace offered to give private demonstrations we all chuckled. Then I realized that was his business and he was 100% serious about the private demo offer. I like to consider myself to be curious and open minded so I quickly finished my drink and scurried out of there as if somebody had just offered to anally violate me with a massive robot-- which they had.
If you want to see some pictures of the Robo-Love-Makers you can click here at your own risk. Help yourself. I find these things scary so I’ll be hiding in my happy place rocking back and forth in the fetal position, far from the penetrating reach of the machines.

Some Red Flags Are Bigger Than Others

Sorry to leave both of my readers hanging by a thread there with that cliffhanger of an encounter. I've been terribly busy with my new hobby that I like to call "not-blogging."

It seems that my instincts to duck and cover were pretty much right on the money. The attractive young woman who very forwardly approached me was not the refreshing sorbet of interaction I was hoping for. The woman turned out to be better under bar lighting (admittedly, who isn't). I met up with her for coffee during the day and we were having a very nice conversation until she brought up the guy who had a crack problem that was living with her until just a few days ago. What's bigger than a red flag? I suppose that was waving an giant, pulsating, neon-green flag that is more easily visible from outer space than the great wall of China if it were on fire. She was perfectly nice but whatever the opposite of chemistry is, we had that. I had taken my dogs Ass Breath and Freckle Dick with me and they seemed to have a good time.

I think I'd be better off only dating chicks on meth. At least they're "perky." Or maybe advertising for a live-in crack addict is the better way to go. I suppose they all have their pros and cons. Perhaps lil quirks like that are something to be overlooked?

Apathy the Ultimate Aphrodisiac

My friend Vivian dropped by last night with her brother and I took them down to The Mission to get a drink, which turned into a mini bar hopping experience. I wasn't in going out mode, but it was nice to trek back into the social stratosphere. We were at the first bar for all of five minutes before this lovely young lady at the bar began chatting me up. Suddenly I felt like "the girl" as I realized that I was being flirted at. It was all very straight forward on her part. It almost didn't even seem like flirting because I didn't have to act charming or funny. We finished our conversation and I turned my attention to Vivian and her brother. I knew he was heading to Virginia and I asked him what he was planning to do when he got there.

"I'm going to find a way to earn a lot of money, buy a sailboat and sail it to China and Tibet. I'm gonna go by myself. How cool will it be to be there and be, like, everybody speaking a different language around me and have no idea what they're saying?"

Well, it sounded like a nice pipe dream but I didn't know him, so who knows, maybe he's the kind of guy who can make that happen. I complimented him on having an interesting answer and a destination. I didn't want to tell him that he'd really be sailing to India unless he wanted to walk the remaining thousand miles to Tibet. Who was I to inject logic to his vibe. I wasn't in a bubble bursting mood and so I watched his bubble float up to the ceiling of the bar and mingle with the pinatas hanging from the ceiling. I wondered if there were still goodies in the pinatas. Then I thought of buried pirate treasure and then I imagined modern day pirates capturing this poor guy who had saved all his money to buy a boat and sail it to Tibet... by himself.

My meandering mind was distracted from it's distraction by the young lady who was now standing beside me. It was as if she was patiently waiting for my mind to wander back from it's little journey. She smiled and told me that they were going to another bar if I wanted to go with them. I told her maybe. She told me that she lived nearby and that because I lived nearby too that we should go out together. Then she gave me her card and told me to get in touch with her.

That was easy. I didn't have to do a thing. Should I be worried. Is she going to drug me, murder me and skin me alive and do some weird human taxidermy on my corpse and put me into a lifelike position? I'll get back to you... hopefully.

Paris Hilton is DEAD!

The matching tiaras are a festive touch.

Long live the dead!

Message from Colonel Fuzzy

I'm part of a dive bar collective. It's basically a group that goes to check out a different run-down bar in the city every two weeks. We look for the kinds of places that have both character and characters. This last Thursday it was a divey karaoke bar and the one year anniversary of the group.

Below is an actual, factual message that one of the members in attendance sent to us.


Hey guys, Great night last night despite waking up in a prison cell. Does anybody have any idea what happened to my phone and car keys? I can see from my arrest record that I didn't have either when the nice taxi driver dumped me at the cop shop.

I've said it before and I'll say it again... karaoke is the devil's henchman and will lead you down a path of ruin.

Nostalgic for Boredom

Well, you're obviously here at my blog because you are bored. I know that's why I come here.

Yes, I know. You probably think that my life is all action-packed swashbuckling, battling the forces of evil and getting hand jobs from beautiful, Norwegian flight attendants at my villa in Rio. Well 99% of the time it is. But... sometimes it's good to remember your humble beginnings. So that's what I do. It helps me appreciate what I have now. I think back to a time before I was a blog rock star who had the world on a silver string and wore solid gold diapers (for those lazy days when you don't want to reach for your diamond encrusted bedpan)

I give the servants the afternoon off. I cancel all my appointments, endorsements and appearances. I send my harem over to stay at my mom's house and watch Oprah, and I give the dogs fifty dollars to take themselves out to dinner and the movies. Then I just sit there. I sit in silence until I'm bored. That's when I come here to write. That way I never lose touch with what it feels like to be an ordinary, bored guy in front of a computer. I wait till that feeling totally sinks into my pours. I let it seep through my skin and through my bones and into my marrow. I just focus and then finally my mind connects with that special place and I achieve a state of....

Wow, that was powerful. You see. That is exactly how I do it.

I feel that I've reconnected enough with the boredom and I'm going to leave you now. I'm going to have a bite of crackers with caviar that I have flown in hourly from the Ukraine, wash that down with some Dom and fresh orange juice. Then I'm getting into my custom painted, cherry-red time machine and travelling back into the past to have sex with famous women from history that no living man has ever bedded. Jealous? Fear not. I collected some video links that are kinda weird and amusing for you to watch.

Here they are! Some fun videos for you enjoying enjoyment. I hope you enjoy them.

Sifl and Olly "Genius in a box"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8de10hR6Xho&mode=related&search=

The Landlord
http://sjl.funnyordie.com//v1/view_video.php?viewkey=3efbc24c7d2583be6925

Prank backfires just a wee bit.
http://www.break.com/index/wife_prank_call_back_fires.html

Beat Box God
http://www.break.com/index/amazing_french_beat_boxer.html

Mr Sprinkles
http://acceptable.tv/videos/246-Mr-Sprinkles

Superhawk
http://acceptable.tv/videos/22-Superhawk

Does anybody know if Cleopatra had syphilis? Seriously. Do you? Something doesn't feel right down there. Hmmm, maybe I got it from Eleanor Roosevelt?