March 21, 2011

Let's see what Dan Haines has for us this week.

1) What the hell is going on right now?!

2) Are we really doing the whole Goodfellas thing, Don?! Right Now?! - Boss Man/Don

3) You're going to Finish this test. No you cannot go to the bathroom!

4) Hey was it just me or was that waitress checking out my ass?!

5) GET UP AND GET THE LEMONADE!!!!!!!

Dan really hits his stride when he gets to #5. A true gem. What's your favorite?

Dan Haines does The New Yorker.

Dan Haines.

This is almost impossible. Any attempt to explain who Dan Haines is in a concise and meaningful way is going to come up extremely short and will definitely fail to capture his different outlook on life. I met Dan years ago at Ridgemoor Country Club. We've spent many hot summers complaining about rich people and laughing at all of the absurdities that come with waiting for hours on end for something you don't really want to do to begin with. As we've gotten older I've started to really appreciate his fresh creativity and hilarious insight. But for everything I appreciate about Dan, there are some people who simply don't get it. They are puzzled by his odd assumptions and discredit his opinions. Those people are idiots. "Screams from the haters got a nice ring to it. Every superhero needs his theme music." In some ways I think he's a genius because he's one of the few people that I've met that never fails to surprise me. So I thought it would be a really good idea to get Dan to come up with 5 captions every week for The New Yorker's caption contest.

To give you an idea of the way Dan's mind works I'll share with you a small window into his genius. At Ridgemoor one hot summer day Dan leaned over to a group of us who were watching rich people have way better lives than us and asked, "Man. Have you ever noticed how little his shadow is?!" A little shadow? No, I hadn't. And I probably never will. But I am so goddamn glad Dan did.

"She is a sleeping beauty." -D. Haines

Oh, stop it.

In case you didn't know or don't remember.

High School Sweetheart.

People often ask me what I was like in high school and I try to be as honest as possible. After a healthy (or unhealthy) amount of self-degradation, they almost always say, "Well it doesn't sound like you've changed much." They're probably right.

I'm not one of those people that remembers high school in a completely different way than it actually happened. I don't glamorize it as an awesome experience (I'll leave that to the dudes at the Irving Park YMCA) and I don't pretend that I was the coolest kid in school. (And apparently I didn't learn how to spell "glamorize" Thanks Google!). I was pretty bitter (SURPRISE!) but I probably wasn't even the best at that (C. E. O'Shea? It's debatable...). No, I wasn't all that popular but I wasn't unpopular. I didn't hook up with chicks and I wasn't the smartest kid in class. Actually, I didn't even really talk to girls, I just stared at them. Where in the world are you Chanel? And how the hell are you doing? I was an acquired taste in class. Most times I had to sit by myself (V.I.P.) but I was by no means a badass. I went to Hip-Hop concerts by myself and loved it. A few times I caught a group of teachers huddled together giggling at me but trying to make it seem as if they were laughing at something else. I was an OK lacrosse player but probably not anywhere near as good as I thought I was. I was really good at getting away with doing the bare minimum and getting decent grades. I do believe I was the best at talking shit. If you don't believe that, well then, fuck you. But I understood one thing that was important for my sanity. I understood it was High School and nothing more.

Today I was clicking around the internet, trying to find a good website to watch the Bulls game when I came across a Proactiv commercial that startled me. A hot chick from high school! Now at the time I know a bunch of dudes had to punch down their pubescent bonerz when she walked in the room but to be honest I didn't really care. Let me mention that I have never talked to this girl in my life and I probably never will (unless she wants to come hang out with Uncle Marty in NYC), so to be fair I can't say that she kept me up at night. Wait. No high school girls "kept me up at night" in the sense that I had to lay on a declined wedge (don't ask me how I know that exists) to let the blood flow back to my head. But. Plenty of high school girls "kept me up at night" as I punched my pillow with tear-filled eyes, wondering, "How are you so damn stupid?!"

When I saw the ad I noticed myself laughing. Not at Emily's skin issues (I have eczema on my eyelids) but at the mere fact that anyone ever cared about what the girls looked like in high school. Sure some of them are still WOWing dudes all over Chicago but let's be honest, most of them passed their prime at the respectful age of 17. Everywhere across the world guys are writing poems and songs, and in some serious cases, killing themselves over teenage girls (or getting locked up Roman Polanski style (but then again that might not count since he messes with pre-teens)). And for what? Because they said no to you when you sucked it up and asked them to prom? Or because even though you shared your homework or helped them study, they still took the very good looking quarterback to the dance? Was/is it worth it? Was/is it ever worth it? Later in life you find out they are just as human as Jerry Springer's guests and audience. They flunk out of college (if they ever went), they have unprotected sex, then have uneducated kids, they develop a drug habit and start losing their teeth, etc. So when I saw Emily's Proactive advertisement today I found myself wondering...

"What the fuck? Why is she famous and I'm not? Why do the hot girls from high school always win?"

http://www.proactiv.com/emily/

"It completely changed my outlook on life." What was your outlook on life before you had zits? To all the young women out there who have zits, end it. Apparently life isn't worth it. But anyways, look at her and look at me. She wins. I need a new outlook on life because this shit ain't workin'.

But whatever. Look at this skin!

Silky smooth.

Well at least I don't walk like I have a dick in my ass. It's a start.

Hey Chanel. I'm still single.

Nate Dogg part. 2.

This terrible news about Nate Dogg's death has got me twisted. Today I spent all day singing "Area Codes" and "Shake That Ass For Me" to all the old ladies standing in line for the fitting room at work which would have been inappropriate if I wasn't so awesome at singing Nate Dogg songs. Some girl from work heard me singing and said, "Well he's probably in a better place now." I assume she was talking about heaven but I really don't think it matters. Honestly, is there a better place than Nate Dogg's life? In my mind, Nate Dogg's life consists of FaceTiming all of his hoz (in different Area Codes of course), telling girls to Shake That Ass, Regulatin' foolz, and just cranking out the fucking hits. I'm sure there is some weed smoking and keeping it real mixed in there to fill the time but what's better than that? I mean do they even have area codes in heaven? I don't think they do. How will Nate Dogg keeps all his hoz categorized and in check? Heaven is just handing out homework assignments. No, Nate Dogg isn't in a better place. He should be here, making everything sound silky smooth (and kind of perverted.)

Here is one of my favorite Nate Dogg songs:


When I say, "He should be here," I don't mean "here" in my room. That would totally suck for him. You best believe this little insecure weirdo would have more than 21 Questions to ask him.

Nate Doggy Style.

Nate Dogg, I have no idea what I'm going to do without you. I don't have any hoz in any area codes but for that small sliver of life, you made me believe that I did. And I thank you for that.

The Male Gaze.

The other day I wore an adorable bow tie to work and was showered with far too many compliments. I appreciated all the nice words but they didn't really compare to the homeless dudes that lost their shit (they never really had any) on seeing me and my bow tie. The first homeless man, Jimmy, kept repeating, "Move over Red Rover let Jimmy take over." I couldn't figure out what he was talking about until I noticed the couple in front of me. The guy had red hair and his ladyfriend was unbelievable looking. C'mon Red Rover move out of the way and let Jimmy have his shot. (After a hepatitis shot of course.) For some reason when I think of Red Rover obliging I see Jimmy gathering up his 2 shopping carts of treasures and inviting his new (main) bitch to his makeshift home under the bridge. How romantic it would all be. But when the couple failed to acknowledge Jimmy he simply shouted, "No? Alright then." That's when he noticed my bow tie and said, "Maybe if I had a bow tie I'd have a chance. "That is a nice bow tie, Mr. Bow Tie Man." I would have happily given Jimmy the bow tie if him rockin/knockin da boots with Mrs. Red Rover was a sure thing. But there was no way to tell and so I didn't surrender the bow tie. I wonder if at any point in history a true crazy homeless man got laid after yelling at a random woman passing by. I'd like to think so.

After sharing my story with Tess we talked about the fact that guys cannot control themselves when a curvaceous woman (or any semi-attractive woman) is present. Shit, she can be three and a half blocks down on the left and I'll notice what she's working with. "Knockers dude." I've had to leave cafes before because of too many dime pieces. It's not something I'm proud of but seriously, what's the point of trying to get work done when you can't even focus on your laptop screen or the book you're reading? At the same time I always hope the gazing is harmless. There's no need to act on any of those impulses unless the setting is appropriate. And no, a woman crossing the street in front of your car is not an appropriate time to honk and propose.

Since it's Japan week, I thought that this awesome game show would only be appropriate to show my support and gratitude to the wonderful Japanese people. I'm not being sarcastic. This truly is a genius idea for a game show. If you want to know which guy I identified with the most skip to 8:58. That's what I plan on looking like when I'm older. I would have easily blown that guy out of the water. (That expression sounds pretty gay doesn't it? And for some reason I'm reminded of Killer Whales exploding out of the water at Sea World.)

The Male Gaze is a big part of all of our lives. And it would also be a totally badass name for a gay bar.