Vegas, baby???

Alrighty, then. Got back from Vegas last night with a few observances about Sin City that I would like to share with y'all:

• Vegas is awful! Truly hideous. I've never been a fan of these "artificial" cities (like Orlando), and Vegas has to top the charts. Fakeness abounds in historical levels. It's too bright, too loud and too stupid for me to deal with ever again. I did have a good time because of the friends that I was with, and a rockin' Jimmy Buffett concert (Mickey Hart from The Grateful Dead and Bill Payne from Little Feat were on hand) on Saturday night. But that's the only reason I had a good time. Vegas is awful!
• I was ready to punch any and all of those folks flicking their little "escort" cards at me while walking on the Strip. I dreamed of a gigantic version of myself stomping through the strip, kicking and stepping on all those little fuckers! Man, that would have been sweet.
• The cab lines are ridiculous. Everywhere! After we found our bags at the airport, we walked outside to see a 1/2 mile long, meandering stream of visitors on the cab line. It took roughly 45 minutes to get in a cab. To a lesser extant at the casinos, but there was still a considerable wait. No fun there.
• Had dinner at Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill on Friday. Not bad, but I've never been to a restaurant before that delivered our food in less than 10 minutes after we ordered it. Entrees, I'm talking about! Veal chops, steaks and pork loin medallions. Couldn't help but think that we had just eaten heated-up food. Weird. We walked into the place at 9PM and were done by 9:45. Just weird.
• Made up for that dinner with a great steak dinner at Smith & Wollensky on Sunday night. Yeah, I know. Go to Vegas and eat at a steakhouse that is a standard right here in NY. But we tried to get into a few others like Delmonico's and Prime. They just didn't have any reservations early enough for us. And they sat us before the Euro-trash that came in before us with a hooker. The Euro-trash complained, but our waiter said "Yeah, right! Like we're gonna sit the hooker before you guys." Good man!
• Saturday, we were up and drinking at 9AM thanks to an early start to the Notre Dame game. Don't think I could handle that on a weekly basis. Wait, wait...yeah. I probably could handle it.
• Not a lot of great sports bars in Vegas. Not that I'm complaining that much. I kinda figured there wouldn't be, but then I thought about the gambling angle and it seems that they would be a natural. Went to one about 3 miles south of the Strip called Steiner's that was pretty good. Of course, they put that goddamn video poker game on top of the bar wherever you go. Evil temptation when you are sitting in a bar for 5 hours, drinking and watching football. Yeah...I donated. I'm weak.

So, I don't think I'm going back. I can understand the allure of the place, but it's just not me. On vacation I like nice restaurants with a warm ocean breeze. Great nightlife at unique and funky bars. Lots of local color and flavor.

Therefore, in December, I am heading back to my favorite haunt. Key West. Purists will say that it's no longer the piece o' wonderful weirdness that it used to be (I beg to differ...read about my last trip there here. It's in the archives section. Second story down in December 2005. Can't link to the exact page. Sorry!), but it still is a blast every single time I go there. I'm sure that this year won't disappoint as my girl is going with me. Nice! Can't wait!

"Good" porn.

So y'all know I love my lady love very much...and yes, it's about time I stopped with the whole (shiny!) thing.

Even though I say it in my mind ever time I think of her. I'll just say it in my head every time I type it from now on. Okay?

She doesn't really care for my porn collection, though. Not that she disapproves of porn, in general. Quite the contrary. She is actually way more into it than I am. She just fancies BETTER porn than I have in my house. Gotta respect a woman like that.

And not that I have any pride in my porn collection. Most of it was bought with my head down in some Adult Shop hoping not to bump into anyone I know. She just doesn't care for the stuff I have.

The other night she was bartending at her restaurant when I came in for Monday Night Football. She was spending the night with me and she wanted me to run out and buy some "good" porn for us to enjoy that evening. Of course she said this in front of a great many people that we both know including the parents of a friend of ours.

She has no censor button in her head. None.

As I've previously stated, our idea of "good" porn is pretty different. I simply need attractive females who can fake a good orgasm. Maybe large to extra-large boobs on said attractive female, but that is purely optional. She needs to have her mind blown. She has high standards. Just reference her taste in men. Yeah.

Anyway, I was in no mood to run out to a sex shop at that hour, and I'm slightly embarrassed that it all came up in front of our friends, so I told her I would finance her trip the next day to buy us some "good" porn...something she is into. Maybe a sex toy or two (see Steven Novak's article about this shit here). Something to spice it up a bit...not that we need any spicing up, but what the hey.

So after she spends roughly three times the amount of cash I gave her, we wound up with 4 brand-spanking (well...not spanking) new DVDs, a new vibrator (cute little fella shaped like a dolphin...awww) and a sex toy for both of us that I am too ashamed to describe here. WAY too ashamed to describe here. Let's just say it did the trick. Over and over and over again. Wow!

It's been a couple of days and we still are having a rough time walking around. This is not meant to be boastful in any way. Well, maybe a little...but those things we bought surely have found their way into the bedroom Hall of Fame. Or the living room, in our case. Too much sharing?

The porn was really "good" too. And we only got through one DVD! Janine Lindemulder starred in it, and my girl bought it because she knows how much I dig women with tattoos.

Did I mention how much I love her?

Editor's note - I've been hemming and hawing for a few hours now about posting this. Is it too personal? Is her mother going to read this? Is Slyde gonna be pissed off I never financed one of his trips to the Sex Shop? All these things were swimming in my head. Finally, I just said "Fuck it!". And if any of my family reads this...it was all fiction. I swear!

Vegas, baby!

Going to Las Vegas for the very first time this coming weekend.

Any thoughts on what to do, and what I should definitely stay away from?

Hmmmm...haaah?

Ease his pain.

Some of you may recall a little discussion we had on purchasing birth control here on these pages. For you newbies, here is the link.

A few of you (you know who you are) suggested that I ease my embarrassment by going hog-wild and just buying every little heinous thing that they have at the drug store along with my rubbers (always hated that term). Ease the pain, so to speak.

Gotta tell ya, the other stuff ain't so embarrassing. Here's my story:

I was heading to the drugstore the other day on my way to my lady love's (shiny!) house. She has caught my cold (ya mess with da bull, ya get da horns!) so I wanted to be sure to buy her the proper meds she needed to fend it off with. I'm good like that!

So I call her up and ask her what she wants. We settle on some things and then she says "Oh...would you mind picking me up some feminine products?" Ooooookkkkaaaaayyyy!

She wanted the variety pack of tampons...you know, regular and heavy flow. But not the kind with deodorant. Apparently that shit can mess you up. Who knew? And she wanted some winged maxi-pads. The heavy-flow/overnight type. I thought she was pulling my leg at this point. Nope...she was serious. Oh yeah, and she wanted some shampoo and conditioner. Fah! I laugh at buying shampoo and conditioner. Laugh at you, I say!

I'm cool! I waltz (that's right!) into the store with my SHOPPING LIST FROM HELL and I get to work. Couldn't find the variety pack of the non-deodorized tampons, so I had to punt and get two packages. Cool. The pads were a little harder to find. For some reason, they only had the overnight shit way on the bottom shelf towards the back. Wouldn't that really piss off some crazy lady who really needed them and was experiencing cramping and back pains from her monthly visit from Flo? Having to bend over like that? It sure pissed me off, and I'm a dude!

Anyway, once my basket was properly filled with embarrassing feminine products I see that my retarded friends are back at the checkout counter. Great! Wonder-Retarded-Twins Power...activate! Form of...a dumb blonde. Shape of...a bucket of water. Never understood the whole "water" thing, but it would be a step up the evolutionary chain for either of these nimrods.

I decided not to risk messing with Retard #2's change-making skills and I paid for the entire she-bang on my debit card. Nipped that problem in the ass, ya know what I mean? Still took the stoopid retard forever.

You know what? Wasn't embarrassed at all. She could have included anal-wart medicine, hemmorroid cream and halitosis pills and I would have been fine. In fact, I could have handled all that while farting "Billie Jean" by Michael Jackson AND wiping my nose on my sleeve and I would have been fine.

Anything but condoms. Anything but that!

What did I see? Where have I been?

It's now Week 2 of the famous Earl vs. Chest Cold battle. Thus far Chest Cold is kicking my ass, but I hope to make a strong recovery in the fourth quarter.

So a few weeks ago I was in the midst of a car ride with my lady love (shiny!) when I popped in some music of my own that I had brought with me. We usually listen to her wonderfully eclectic selection o' tunes that she keeps on her iPod, but we were heading into the city so I decided to bring some CDs. Change of pace type shit.

Turns out we both love "Quadrophenia" by The Who. I mean, really love it! This is an album that I have listened to more times in my life than I have masturbated. Well...um, maybe not that much, but a whole lot.

I have gone through a number of copies of it. I (meaning my older brother) had the original album when I was real young. I then remember buying at least two copies on cassette...as I kept wearing them out. Then, when CDs hit, it was one of the first that I bought. I also bought some CD by The Kentucky Headhunters and "Attack of the Killer B's" by Anthrax on that trip to the store, so there is no accounting for taste. I then lost those CDs on vacation somewhere and had to re-purchase them at some point years later. I've spent some dough on "Quadrophenia", kids.

Oooh...oooh. I even went to see The Who at Madison Square Garden when they played the whole album on their anniversary/retirement/comeback tour a few years back. Phil Daniels (the actor who starred in the film version of the album) was even on hand to narrate the show. And Billy Idol was there to play Ace Face and sing "Bellboy". Awesome!

Anyway, for some reason this album above all the other albums by The Who really made an impression on me. I guess because I became a fan of it in my early teens and I was real uncomfortable with myself back then. I still am, to a certain degree. But Pete's lyrics really hit home as he was writing about the same kind of things that we all go through now and again...especially in our teen years.

I also like the arrangement of the songs with Pete and Roger going back and forth as the different voices inside our narrator's head. It's just a perfect album. Here are the lyrics to one of my favorite songs on it. Roger does most of the singing with Pete chiming in a few times. Great stuff.

Enjoy!

Sea and Sand
by Pete Townshend

Here by the sea and sand
Nothing ever goes as planned,
I just couldn't face going home
It was just a drag on my own.
They finally threw me out
My mother got drunk on stout,
My dad couldn't stand on two feet,
As he lectured about morality.
Now I guess the families complete,
With me hanging round on the street
Or here on the beach.

The girl I love
Is a perfect dresser,
Wears every fashion
Gets it to the tee.
Heavens above,
I got to match her
She knows the style
She wants her man to be
Leave it to me.

My jacket's gonna be cut slim and checked
Maybe a touch of seersucker with an open neck
I ride a GS scooter with my hair cut neat
I wear my wartime coat in the wind and sleet.

I see her dance
Across the ballroom
UV light making stars shine
On her smile.
I am the face,
She has to know me,
I'm dressed up better than anyone
Within a mile.

So how come the other tickets look much better?
Without a penny to spend they dress to the letter.
How come the girls come on oh so cool
Yet when you meet 'em, every one's a fool.

Come sleep on the beach
Keep within my reach
I just want to die with you here
I'm feeling so high when you're near.
I'm wet and I'm cold
But thank God I ain't old
Why didn't I ever say what I mean?
I should have split home at fifteen
There's a story that the grass is so green,
What did I see?
Where have I been?

Nothing is planned, by the sea and the sand!

Pin the tail on the donkey

The "donkey" being me!

OK...due to the numerous (two that I know of) requests to tell the blog-world which celebrity I look like the most, I have decided to comply. Unfortunately, there is no easy answer to this question. Let's take it in stages.

There are times late at night after I've had my drink on that I really look like this guy. Of course that's how I look in my primordial brain. When I think even the hottest ladies around want themselves a piece o' Earl. Sorry ladies! This prize is taken!

Of course, when I wake up the next morning I look a hell of a lot more like this guy. Especially the hair. I can't seem to grow my hair long, it just seems to grow outwards. And in the morning, especially after a good night out, I tend to resemble Rev. Jim an awful lot.

My lady love (shiny!) wishes I looked like this guy. Hey, but if wishes were fishes we'd all be Pope, right? Huh? I don't even know what that meant.

I guess there are times when I kinda look like this guy. Pudgy and pasty, yeah baby! That's me. We are pretty close to the same age as well, so we got that going for us. I look much better in drag, though. Had to be honest.

I've heard that I sound exactly like this guy. I don't know if it's true or not because I have no ear for that shit. But I've heard it from more than one person. OK...it was one person who said it and my lady love (shiny!) agreed with him.

To be truthful...I have heard more than once in my life that I kinda look like this guy. His name is Charlie Steiner and he is a sports radio host and former ESPN personality. The beard, the glasses, the Jewish nose...and I'm Irish Catholic! I met a few of his old ESPN compadres once a few years back. Stuart Scott, Rich Eisen and Dan Patrick. And even they thought I looked like Steiner.

Dammit! I'm gonna get drunk tonight so I can look like that first guy again!

In my head.

At least for a little while.

Cough, cough...

Feeling a bit under the weather today. Just a chest cold, but I'm the worst sick person in the world so everything is magnified.

Just wanted to give/drop the names of two celebrities that we ran into in our past two trips to the city. The first was Bob Balaban. He was waiting for his car in the same parking garage we were parked in last week. It was a very un-eventful meeting. I pointed at him and said "Hey, Bob Balaban! How are you?" He said "Great. Thanks", and then he moved on.

The second was Danielle Brisebois. For those of you who don't remember her, she was the bushy eye-browed Stephanie on "All in the Family". She has left the world of acting to concentrate on her musical career with some success. I have to admit that I didn't recognize her. We were coming down from our hotel room on Saturday. When we got to the lobby, she and her two friends were heading up. I was staring at her chest, because...well, it was there. But my lady love (shiny!) recognized her right away. Had no doubt, and that's all the confirmation I needed.

Oh yeah, and I was briefly mistaken for a celebrity on Saturday also. We stayed at a hotel directly across the street from the theater where Chicago is playing, and my lady love's (shiny!) uncle performs in the show. So we headed across the street, talked to an usher (Not Usher...who is currently perfoming as Billy Flynn...he was sick that day) and we were told to head down into the musician's area to find him. As it turns out, he was heading out right at that time so we didn't have to look too hard for him.

So as were are coming out of the tunnel back to the front of the theater, I was the first one out of the gate. There were these two Asian women with autograph books and pens waiting for us. Their eyes lit up when they saw me and they raised their pens and books for us to sign, but I had to let them down with a soft "Sorry...I'm nobody."

Sigh. Maybe someday, Asian ladies....maybe someday!

God Warrior!

I don't know if any of you were lucky enough to see this last year. If not, lemme splain for the un-initiated.

There is this crap show on one of the crap networks called "Wife Swap" or something like that. Anyway, this one show had this 500+ pound, ultra-Christian maniac swap places with a real sweet, Wiccan astrologer (or something equally opposite to the crazy lady).

Wackiness ensued! That's what the point of the show is, I guess.

But the real kicker was the crazy lady's reaction when she finally got home. That's what the clip above shows. She went nuts. It was the best fucking thing ever put on television! EVER!

So I actually saw this episode live because I was spending the night at Mom's house and her and my sister love the show. It's an awful show, but I had seen previews for this particular episode and I was interested enough to sit with them and watch it. Sooooo glad I did!

My sister has a bit of a wacky sense of humor, so she went to the local mall and had a "GOD WARRIOR" t-shirt made up for me. Simple black with large white letters. It's awesome! I don't believe I had ever worn it outside my house, though.

Until yesterday.

Wore it under a sweatshirt when I went to visit my lady love (shiny!) at her restaurant. Sat at the bar for a bit before taking off my sweatshirt (dead sexy) to reveal my God Warrior-ness! Thought it would be a fun night of explaining the shirt, or pretending that I actually was THAT into the man/woman upstairs. You know...just for kicks!

HOLY CRAP! I got so many snide or weirdo looks from people! All from a goddamned t-shirt! It was both hysterical and uncomfortable at the same time. This one guy at the bookstore across the street actually asked if I was a Warrior for God or if I was just a dude that fought against gods. Hmm...never thought of that before. Guess the shirt is a bit ambigious.

Nothing causes folks to judge you more than when you either A) display your religion openly or B) poke fun at someone else's religion in the same manner.

And here I was just making fun at a dumb show with a crazy lunatic on it. Go figure.

Oh the shame!

So, I'm rapidly approaching 40.

Think I've mentioned that before, but it bears repeating. The thing about it is that you would think that a distinguished gentleman like myself would get over stuff that most people got over in their mid-teens. Not me.

I'm still ashamed to buy birth control.

That's right. Most men consider it a badge of honor. Sort of like announcing to the world "I'M GOING TO HAVE SEX TONIGHT! WELL, IF NOT TONIGHT THEN MAYBE SOMETIME IN THE NEAR FUTURE!" Unfortunately, I've always been really embarrassed by the whole thing. I know the clerk at the store will be snickering as soon as I'm out the door. "What are you gonna do with those? Make water balloons? Mwah-ha-ha-ha!"

I guess from the water balloon comment you can tell that our birth control method of choice is condoms. Sokay with me. I'd wrap my body in latex if it meant having sex on a regular basis. Latex body suit...hmmm? What was I saying? Oh yeah, condoms. Seriously, I've never been a big proponent of birth control pills if my lady love (shiny!) doesn't like how them make her feel and I really don't mind wearing them. Tough to find shoes that matches them, though.

Stupid, isn't it? Well the other day I was in the midst of doing some shopping and random chores about town when I remembered that I was out of condoms. Shit! Then I remembered that my girl (shiny!) wasn't spending the night with me that evening. I had a one-day reprieve. At least!

I did intend on seeing her. She was managing the restaurant that night and I thought I would pop in, have a few beers and bid her a fond good night. So I stroll into town and into her place when she spots me. She immediately comes over for a hello snog and whispers into my ear "I've changed my mind about tonight. Can I stay over? Did you buy condoms?"

FUCK!

So I waltz (that's right!) into the local drugstore where there is not one, but two teenaged girls working the counter. And they are retarded. Not actually disabled, but just stupid as all hell. Great!

I grab my condom box o' choice and a pack of gum. Yeah, I can't even go in and buy JUST a box of condoms...gotta get something else so they can think "Well...at least his breath will be fresh". I get to the counter and retard #1 is apparently training retard #2 who is manning the till. Great again! First she has trouble scanning the objects. Then she announces that it comes to $10.80 for the two items. This is all taking forever. And a line is forming behind me. A line of women.

I give her a twenty and a single in the hopes that it will assist her change-making skills. Not so. She looked at me with that retarded look of hers and said "You had enough with just the twenty?"

I sigh and say "Yeah, I know, but I figured you could just give me back a ten and 20 cents. Easier for you, right?" She didn't get it. She actually gave me a five and five singles instead of the ten. WTF? Then she said "Sorry...I'm not good at making change yet."

You know what? I don't think she'll ever be good at making change. Or dialing a phone. Or wiping properly. She's retarded!

So my embarrassing 1-minute chore took almost 15-minutes because of these retards. And a long line of customers got a very good idea of what the rest of my night was going to consist of...chewing gum and drinking away my shame!

PS - Never did use those condoms that night. FUCK!

Pickled to death!

So yesterday, I went with a friend to a local Pickle festival.

I'll wait here while you giggle amongst yourselves.

Finished? OK. Here's the deal. Apparently, there used to be quite a deal of pickles grown in and around the Greenlawn, NY area. The so-called Pickle King lived here back in the day. Blah, blah, blah...allotta history and shit. If you want to read about it, you can do so here.

I really wasn't interested in the local history of the pickle. I just wanted to buy some fresh pickles. And hang out with the pickle people, because frankly...what an absurd concept. A pickle festival? That's just awesome! And they have been doing it for around a quarter of a century. Pickle people come from all over to celebrate the wonder of the pickle here at pickle ground zero. Once again...awesome!

I bought a bunch of pickles as well as some pickled hot peppers and little pickled green tomatoes. Can't wait to have a Bloody Maria with those tomatoes as garnish. Yum! I was a bit disappointed in that they didn't have any pickle-related items like t-shirts or posters. I would have killed for a pickle shirt like this one.

And the activities were kinda lame. No pickle race, however, there was a pickle proclamation read by a local politician. Yeah, I know...lame. But I kinda like saying "pickle proclamation" out loud. Try it. Fun, right?

All in all, it was a pickle perfect afternoon.

Pickle, pickle, pickle!