Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Asterisks



I love to play online poker, but I recently realized how much of a different person I become when things don’t go my way. Here is the chat log, verbatim (screen names changed):

Dealer: marids11 (button) showed 10cQs and won ($170.60) with a straight, Nine to King
Seat 9: Youngman Brown showed KhKd and lost with three of a kind, Kings

Youngman Brown: aslkjflaskjf
Youngman Brown: WTF
Youngman Brown: you call all the way down with a ****ing gutshot?
Youngman Brown: what a ****ing donk
marids11: hehehe ul
Youngman Brown: unlucky my *** you idiot
Youngman Brown: you just called your entire stack with a 4 outer
Youngman Brown: I hope you get herpes.

The anger that flows from me is justified because this guy deserves to get verbally assaulted and that is a “bad beat” in any poker player’s book. What is surprising to me is my choice of ammunition.

Herpes? It’s not only mean, but it’s so… specific.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

The Giza Pyramid Scheme



This is a really shitty time to be a recent college graduate. Included in my current slew of unfinished books are The Secret and Think and Grow Rich, both of which stress the importance of positive thinking. But with the economy the way it is, it is all too easy to become a pessimist. As I see the stocks plunge and jobs being dropped, I can’t help but grow anxious for one particular job to become vacant – Bush’s. I’m sure he’s quite ready to retire as well. Perhaps he should take a hint from bin Laden and hide in a cave to escape the jobless masses, who are rightfully pointing the finger at him.


Or, like me, giving him the finger.

In my quest for a job, I can’t even count how many resumes I have sent out. What’s worse is the fact that I don’t even hear “We got your resume,” let alone, “Come in for an interview.” It’s insanely frustrating.

To apply for one particular job, I needed to post my resume on Yahoo Hotjobs. I heard nothing from that potential employer, of course, but the very next day I got a phone call, asking if I had ever thought about selling insurance. Of course, I hadn’t, but at this point I was eating up any opportunity that came my way, even if it had absolutely nothing to do with my major. Or my minor. Or my interests in general. In fact, this was the kind of job

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Real Privacy


One of my biggest guilty pleasures is Reality TV. I am not sure where my fascination began, but I think I can blame it on my ex-girlfriend, Annie, who forced me to sit down and watch The Bachelor. I know, I know. Why waste time watching a chauvinistic guy date multiple trashy and desperate women in one of the corniest situations imaginable. Such were my complaints. But like most other reality shows, it hooked me, and now I’m that guy that doesn’t miss an episode of the gayest show ever.


A far superior reality show, however, is Big Brother. For those who might not know what the show is about, think: the pointlessness of The Real World combined with the competitive structure of Survivor. Basically, it is just CBS picking the most insane and emotional individuals they can find and locking them in a house for three months and seeing if anyone kills each other. Last one standing gets half a million and the rest get their insecurities broadcasted to millions of people. By going on the show, you are agreeing to be at the mercy of CBS, who will edit you in the way they deem fit. You will be turned into the hero or the villain of the summer, depending how they think it will affect ratings. People’s lives have literally been ruined due to bad experiences on the show.

And I can’t wait to go on.

I am convinced that I already would have been on the show were it not for my aforementioned laziness. The application is fourteen pages long.


When I was

Monday, October 6, 2008

Millennials

My father recently called me a millennial. Confused as to whether it was good or bad to be called such a thing by a parent, I inquired as to the meaning of his compliment/accusation.

“What are you calling me? A flower?”

“I was watching Dateline and they had an interesting piece on millennials. I think you should give it a watch.”

Ah, it all made sense.

Whenever one of his usual primetime programs isn’t on (Think: Boston Legal, Ugly Betty, etc.), my dad always turns to whatever else is on, rarely letting me or my mom get a chance to watch the Phillies game. Dateline or Sixty Minutes would almost always suffice, with whatever was being reported on being compelling enough for an hour of his time. Evidently, Dateline had reported on millennials. Whatever they were.

“I sent you the link, if you’d check your e-mail every once in a while.”

Slightly behind the times, my father is now armed with dated knowledge of technology, and has mastered the art of Googling videos and forwarding them to his closest family and friends. Tiny