10. 5.04
Lovebox
I got an email from Sarah Brown yesterday. It read "When are you going to be funny again?"
I'm pretty sure she meant when am I going to be funny again when I submit comments to her blog, and not when am I going to be funny again when I update my own blog, because the humor found in my previous post about Wellesley students was timely, provocative and undeniable, according to several testimonials by me. And though I'm unsure as to who elected Sarah the Queen of Comedy, it's likely Sarah's readers didn't find my comments funny either, especially when one considers the way I charged them with the quality of being "fucking annoying."
Who knows, maybe Sarah's right. Maybe I've strained my comedy muscle from overuse. Or maybe I seriously just wanted to tell Sarah's readers they're fucking annoying.
Either way, I think it's time I slowed down a bit; I can't keep churning out the same level of side-splitting comedy that somehow manages to name-check Joan Didion as well as reference a Yeats poem. So today I'm going to take a vacation from being funny, like this guy did ever since he got married. Today, I'm going to pretend I was never funny at all, just like this guy. Instead, I'm going to keep it simple and discuss things I like. Like ...
The New Yorker magazine:
Last year my crazy Japanese girlfriend gave me a subscription to the New Yorker for Christmas. I'm not sure who tipped her off to the fact that I love the New Yorker -- it might have been me -- but each week I get a new issue in the mail, and each week I think to myself that putting up with her craziness still wasn't worth it. But that's another matter.
I love the incredibly lengthy features about subjects ranging from what Al Gore is up to now (not much, apparently) to commercial space tourism. It was from the New Yorker that I learned what the term "money shot" means. I love that they're all a bunch of prissy Upper East Side-Ivy League fags and they don't give a fuck.
How snooty is that?
I even love the stupid little cartoons inserted randomly into the text.
It's especially great when it's a feature about brain cancer among orphans or whatever, and suddenly there's a little pen-and-ink drawing of a dog sniffing a daffodil. Whatever, dudes.
I love how in the "Goings on About Town" section, they describe Franz Ferdinand as the Strokes if the Strokes studied at the Sorbonne.
Every week I read it cover to cover, which is the only reason I know who Bruce Nauman is or how many knuckle ballers there are currently pitching in the major leagues. But yeah, it definitely doesn't make up for the five months of my life that I lost. I mean, it's no Black Tail.
Kicks:
Speaking of which, I'm not unlike a black guy. I like menthol cigarettes. I'm a fan of big asses. I think midgets are hilarious. I love God and my mom and only give love to chickenheads when it's convenient. And I love kicks.
As you all know, I own a cardigan sweater. I dress fairly conservatively. I don't own any T-shirts that say something clever on the front. My shoes, on the other hand, are a different matter. For example:
You have no idea how much I love my '97s.
In reality my love for sneakers makes me more Asian than black. I went to a little boutique store in North Beach last weekend that sells limited-edition Nikes, and every customer in the store was an Asian kid wearing two hundred-dollar shoes.
The thing is, they're not just shoes. They're art. Take a look at these:
They're rumored to be the upcoming Air Jordan XXs. They're the most hideous things I've ever seen, but they're sort of beautiful too. No one could ever ball in them, but I'd understand if you wanted to display them on your mantel.
(Meagan, when you go to Japan could you pick me up some Heineken Dunks and some Japanese-exclusive '95s? Thanks.)
In the meantime, I'm still waiting for the Air McFlys to drop:
Don't front, you know those are sick.
Krackel and Mr. Goodbar:
I always forget these exist until Halloween every year.
Mel:
I seriously love this woman, and she thinks of me whenever she eats Fritos.
Next time, I'm thinking a list of pet peeves. Watch for it.
Despite being the Yankees' top starter in 1986, the 6'7" Dennis Rasmussen was traded to Cincinnati for Bill Gullickson in August 1987. Originally Pirates property, Rasmussen was traded from the Padres to the Yankees in 1984 for Graig Nettles. The Padres stole him back on June 8, 1988, in a deal for Candy Sierra, and he thrived, going 14-4 for San Diego and winning 10 of his frst 11 decisions for them. However, his career began spiralling downwards following the 1988 campaign. After three mediocre seasons with the Padres and disastrous stints with the Cubs and Royals, he finally called it quits after the 1995 season.
Additionally, those shoes are very ugly.
Posted by: jeff at October 5, 2004 05:25 AMthe only reason i'm not immediately banning you from my site is because part of your email address is "rockinjeff" and that makes me very sad.
Posted by: John K. at October 5, 2004 12:08 PMyeah those shoes are pretty ugly. also, the guy above you (the one with the baseball thingy) will probably LOVE THE NEW JIMMY FALLON MOVIE CALLED FEVER PITCH out in a theater near you 2005. i'm so excited i want to rip my throat out & dangle it in front of small children while i try to scream to death but instead just die. jesus fucking christ. is it so hard to convert a book about an obsessive love for soccer in the uk into a movie without the likes of drew barrymore, switching to baseball (fever *pitch* so very clever assholes), and pairing every character with a couple of silly somewhat gay gossip buddies from boston? WHAT THE FUCK. oh, um, and those sneakers are ugly.
Posted by: jackie at October 5, 2004 06:05 PMjackie, the only reason i'm not banning you for saying that my shoes are ugly TWICE is because, well, we all know how i feel about amerasian girls.
Posted by: John K. at October 6, 2004 01:51 AM"a funny weblog, if not a tad creepy" ... let me get this straight, YOU think I'M a tad creepy?
Posted by: John K. at October 6, 2004 02:25 AMFine, I'll admit it. I like the alleged Jordan XX's.
Posted by: wendy at October 6, 2004 06:17 AMwendy, those jordans are fucking ugly, but i love you for liking them.
Posted by: John K. at October 6, 2004 12:09 PMThose shoes look like the designs the stoner guy who sat next to me used to draw on the back of his notebook in 10th grade geometry. If there was a ZOSO in there, I'd be down, but otherwise, WEAK.
Posted by: Sarah B. at October 6, 2004 09:55 PMyou ARE a tad creepy, but funny. oh, and those shoes are ugly. like totally ugz. actually, please start using the word "ugz", it is really www.hip starting now.
Posted by: jackie at October 8, 2004 12:44 PMI'm already in Japan, John. The guy next to me is smoking a cigarette and playing Sims baseball or whatever. I will look for your shoes as soon as I leave here. With my blonde hair, I get an 80% discount.
Posted by: Meagan at October 9, 2004 12:11 AM