TV Is My Crack

I am the TV. You are my friend.

TV is my crack and I just landed in the granddaddy of all crackhouses. Sometime around December I decided to go cold turkey on TV. I was moving out of my apartment and the giant 52 inch TV that I had been babysitting was returned to its proper home. This seemed like a good opportunity to make a break. OK. I know that many of you think that I am crazy but it really had become a problem. With the big TV in my living room, I could split the one big screen into two full sized screens. When channel surfing on both screens, that could easily mean 4 shows at once. I soon became stuck in a perpetual loop of dosing myself w/ bad movies, sitcoms, reality TV and even the occasional drama. At one point I sank so low I found myself drifting into the eerie glow of the Lifetime Channel. MY GOD MAN! THE LIFETIME CHANNEL! If the pictures moved I couldn’t get enough of it. Rather than cultivating social relationships, growing my brain or being active and healthy I just sat around all day, comatose and drooling on myself. So, when I moved and lost the TV I decided that it was time to go cold turkey. I am proud to say that it has been 3 months since I have watched bad TV…that is until this last week. Not too long ago I ended up back in Florida and, since my friend was away in California, I ended up crashing at his place. It’s a great apartment, in a great location, it has a great sound system and [dun dun dun] the big TV. Needless to say, I have had a relapse. On Friday my brain was so fried from mixing my reality TV shows with my made for TV movies that I actually tried to inject an RCA cable right from the TV into my brain. If you don’t see a post in the next couple of days, call for help. It might not be too late.

Is That A Wocket In Your Pocket Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

I think that they make antibiotics for this.

The other night at the bar (why is it that so many of the good stories start off this way?) I was approached by a random girl and heard the best pickup line ever. She looked me dead nuts in the eyes and said, "Is that a wocket in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" What does one say to that? Really, I want to know. Suggestions are welcome. I opted to go with, "Actually, its a sock."

Now before you judge me, remember that I had less than a second to think of a response. Also, remember that I am prone to blurting things out before the editor in my head can catch them. At least it was better than the response that I gave to the last "best pickup line ever."

[screen goes blurry...here it comes....FLASHBACK!]

There I am in England visiting friends and I am wearing an obnoxious bright yellow Cheerios shirt. I am not sober. OK, so that is the set up. While standing there minding my own business I am tapped on the shoulder. When I turn around it is a cute English girl and she just looks at me for a couple of seconds, I guess for added drama. Then, very matter of factly, she says, "Hmmm...I would eat you for breakfast." My response? I think that I just drooled on myself. I don't remember really. What I do know is that later that night, I ended up falling about 20 feet into a narrow hole and there was no cute English girl at the bottom of it. What happened to the first girl you ask? Well, evidently she doesn't like socks (and for the record, I have never had nor will I ever have, a sock in my pants).

Subject pouring his 5th cup of coffee

Coffee Experiment #1: How Many Cups Does It Take For JPR To Spontaneously Combust

I am bored. I am sitting here with absolutely nothing to do except babysit this hunk o’ metal (for any engineers reading this, we have yet to leave idle). For lack of anything better to do, I have decided to conduct an experiment in coffee drinking. What is the hypothesis you ask? Well let me tell you….hmmm. How’s this?
“After shit loads of coffee, jpr will no longer be bored”
We will start the experiment at 6:30 PM
Data Collection:

6:30 PM
Cups of Coffee: 0
Subject: Eyelids are a little heavy, legs are a little crampy from the gym today, definitely bored.
6:45 PM
Cups of Coffee: 1
Subject: Eyelids still heavy, legs still crampy, still bored.
7:00 PM
Cups of Coffee: 2
Subject: Awake. Only slightly less bored because now I have to pee.
7:30 PM
Cups of Coffee: 4
Subject: A litttle jittery/. I don’t think that I am all that bored right now. I think its because Im writing this though. I suppose that I will continue the experiment for the sake of science. Who knows? Maybe I will win a Nobel Prize. I have to pee agin.
8:00 PM
Cups of Coffee: 6
Subject: OH MY GOD! SOMEBODY SLIP ME A ROOFY, I NEEDf TO STOP VIBRATING!

Update: It is 9:45 and I think that I am crashing. I would not suggest doing this experiment for yourself. It is only entertaining until the alien pops out of your stomach. On the other hand, if you are bored….go ahead. In that case, succumb to the siren call of the Starbucks marketing machine and drink shit loads of coffee.
Here is the results summary and conclusion for this astoundingly professional and scientific experiment.

Results Summary:
The subject seemed to get edgy after the third cup of coffee, had to pee a lot and forgot about being bored very quickly once the alien popped out of his stomach.

Conclusion:
I need help

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My Left Nipple is Braille for Bunny Rabbit

St. Patricks Day is a good holiday. Tons of people come out to party, you are obligated to have a drink or two, and if you don't wear green lots of girls keep pinching your ass. That last bit, the pinching, leads to some interesting conversations. At one point, a girl decided to go for a nipple instead of my posterior just to mix things up a bit. Rather than saying ouch (which is the sensible thing to do) I blurted out, "You know...the bumps on that nipple are braille for bunny rabbit." I do not know why I said this, it just came out. Oddly enough she found this quite fascinating and proceeded to tell her friends that my left nipple was braille for bunny. They all were then compelled to check it out for themselves. Now, after questioning each of these girls I came to find out that none of them actually knew braille. In actuality they were all just trying to cop a feel. I had been violated. This, of course, was cause for a celebratory long island ice tea. Not a very Irish drink but keep in mind that I wasn't wearing green and don't really give a rabbits ass (Im cringing for you).
Before I close this post I feel obligated to answer the question that is surely sitting on its laurels in the back of your head, "Is his left nipple really braille for bunny rabbit?" The answer is, of course not. My left nipple is for the most part normal. Now as for my third nipple, thats another story...

Welcome to Connecticut

Welcome Back to Connecticut OR Jason Goes to Purgatory

It is official. I am in Purgatory. I have just left the land of perpetual sun and beautiful girls only to be swallowed whole by the depressing state of Connecticut. Here is the transition:
Thursday: Sunshine, 72 degrees, cute girls everywhere, an apt. near the intercoastal waterway and living on expenses.
Friday: Six inches of snow, it's #%?!&#@ freezing , there is 1 cute single girl surrounded by 12 guys, a tiny bedroom with a single bed, more snow and no expenses...this is crap.
Last night we decided to entertain ourselves at the Pig's Eye Pub. When we arrived, I immediately remembered CT's complete lack of any cute girls. After looking around the bar I used my calculator to count a total of one cute girl and she was surrounded by 12 guidos...this is crap.
Do I have a bad attitude about the whole thing? Perhaps. Am I being a little bit whiny? OK. Maybe you've got me there too. But that does not change the fact that this is a big stinky pile of ass crap. Sorry that there is nothing more amusing than "big stinky pile of ass crap" in this post but CT is far from inspiring...unless of course you include the novel of bitching and moaning that this state seems to inspire.
While I am stuck here I will count the number of complaints I hear about CT from other people. Starting yesterday, the count is 34. This number will be updated in each new post.
And with that, I am done...this is crap (the post I mean, by now I am sure that you already know about CT).

YUMI Sushi = The Best Sushi EVER!!!!

I forgot to include this in my post last night because I was too sober. So, with apologies, I bring you this public service announcement now.
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT
I have eaten at many sushi restaurants in the past couple of decades and I have enjoyed many of them. Unfortunately for those restaurants, last nights experience has officially rendered them inadequate. I may eat at other locations but I will always be thinking about last night. At 6:09 PM on March 7, 2005 I started eating the sushi of the gods. It was so good that my taste buds passed out from the pleasure. This, by the way, is not a bad sensation until you realize that you are drooling all over yourself. Where is this place you ask? Well, since I am being deported to Tennessee and nobody actually reads this blog, I will tell you (Otherwise, be assured that I would keep this precious information to myself...I wouldn't want my favorite sushi establishment to get overcrowded)
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YUMI Sushi is located in WPB, FL at the intersection of Military Trail and Community. This should be enough to find it. If you can't find it, then you probably don't deserve to eat there.

Karaoke and the Choir of Angels

It is 3:00 AM and I just got back from a karaoke bar. I don't think I was any good but it was damn fun. I don't think anybody else thought I was any good either. Again, I still had fun. I sang(howled, croaked, belched...whatever) White Wedding by Billy Idol and Wonderwall by Oasis. Now before you judge me on my song selection, keep in mind that these were strategically chosen songs. It just so happens that these two songs consist of the only five notes that my very narrow vocal range can hit. I didn't sing these songs by preference but out of necessity. The end result? I still sounded like a retarded alligator with laryngitis at the height of mating season. If you have ever heard a horny alligator, you know that this is not pleasant. If you haven't heard a horny alligator then just trust me, it's not Elton John.

A Meat Coma Afternoon

Sloth, Lust, Gluttony and the pig I tried to eat this afternoon.

There couldn't be a better picture for this post.

Today was a good day. I am pretty sure that I covered the best of the seven deadly sins. Lets see, gluttony, lust...gluttony, more lust, did I mention lust? I really like that one (I know because I took this test). I am not even sure what the other ones are. Envy? Who has the time for that crap? Anger. Ditto. Greed...ok, well this one is a weak point but its not as much fun as lust or gluttony. Vanity, again guilty sometimes but it's nowhere near as entertaining as gluttony or lust. It is really just a means to an end, namely lust. Lets see, there's one more. Oh yeah. Sloth. This is also a good one.....so where was I? Lets try this again.

Today was a good day. I covered my favorite four deadly sins: Gluttony, Lust, Sloth and Lust. We'll skip ahead to 2:00 in the afternoon when I finally got out of bed. Sloth=check! Then I proceeded to the West Palm Beach Pig Gig. This is an event that is dedicated to eating as much award winning pig flesh as is humanly possible. It is also dedicated to beer and funnel cakes. You can not go wrong with any of the aforementioned items (unless you are at a carnival and decide to get on the teacups of doom after eating all of the above). Anyways, after wandering around a few barbeque stands my friend and I selected the one with the shortest line and prepared ourselves to eat a whole pig. We were hoping that it might be like a lobster tank and that we might be able to pick out our pig but, alas, this was not so. That cute little pig out back got lucky because it was looking mighty tasty. Instead we had to settle for BBQ that had already been prepared. I elected to order the #7 "Kings Feast". My friend went for the #1 AND the #6...impressive. Several pounds of pig meat later my eyelids were getting heavy and I could quickly feel myself slipping into a meat coma. Gluttony=check! And with the coma on its way I had high hopes of another round of sloth. The rest of the afternoon is hazy. I would write more but I feel another round of sloth coming on. P.S. For those of you who might be wondering what happened to lust...you are pervs. Goodnight.

Boy doing Neo-Pagan jumping jacks in the Neo-Pagan wheel of Neo-Paganism (I would have posted pics of vestal virgins but right now I am at work and I don't want to get fired).

Neo-Pagans, Vestal Virgins and One Kick Ass Fruit Salad.

In my perpetual quest to not be bored I was checking out many of these new fangled "blogs." It turns out that if you find a few good ones they can provide hours of entertainment. They can also be quite educating. For example, I clicked on this link
belief-o-matic
and discovered that I am not really well suited to being Catholic. It turns out that I would be much better off as a Neo-Pagan. Well I have one thing to say to that: "Hell yeah, bring on the vestal virgins!!!!" Now I realize that this is probably the first thing that any guy says when he finds out that he is really a Neo-Pagan and I apologize for my complete lack of originality. However, can you blame me? You don't get a VIP invitation to the playboy mansion and then say, "Woohoo! I hear they make a great fruit salad!"
I think that I am going to start a Neo-Pagan sect the next chance I get. Ssshh. Don't tell mom.