Dear Cain,

Have you ever realized just how often you respond to someone without really thinking about what you’re saying?  I call this a Memorized Response.  It’s those moments where you want to pretend like you give a damn, so you’ve put together a mental database of smart / witty / sassy responses that you think will get the job done.  And hey, sometimes they work.  Sometimes they don’t.  Usually, they don’t.  So I’ve decided to start a reference list for you.  Here are what I consider your Top 3 “You’re an Ass” Memorized Responses.

Top 3 “You’re an Ass” Memorized Responses

Scenario #1:  “It’s Going.”

Statement:  “How’s it going?”
Response:  “It’s going.”

This one sucks, because it doesn’t answer anything.  It just makes you look like a douchebag.  If someone asks you how it’s going,  they already KNOW that it’s going.  If you weren’t going, you’d be dead.  You’re not dead.  Answer the effing question.

Scenario #2:  “You, too.”

Statement:  “Thanks for shopping at _______, come again!”
Response:  “Thanks, you too.”

This one is tricky, because I know you’re trying to be polite.  But does it really hurt to listen for one extra freakin’ second to what someone is going to say?  Granted, I understand that you’re sometimes in a hurry to get back home, so you expect the cashier to say, “Thanks, have a nice day!” … in which case this response would make sense.  But geez, nothing pains me more than those 3 seconds after responding where you stand there like an idiot trying to make sense of what you just said.  You fool.

Scenario #3:  Meaningless Head Nod

(Mid-conversation)
Statement:  “Oh man, this movie was so awesome.  Remember that part where ________?”
Response:  (Nods head)
Statement:  “Yeah!  What’d you think about it?”
Response:  “Oh, what?  Oh … actually I’ve, uhh, never seen it.”

Oh, and don’t you dare nod your head through a work meeting.  Nodding ignorantly to something like, “Do you understand what you have to do?” will only lead to problems.  If you’ve never done something, don’t say you have, and if you don’t understand something, be clear about that.  Sheesh, you’re killing me here.

Anyways, I think we’ve made some progress today.  Please remember what I’ve taught you.  My hope is that this lesson will significantly reduce the damage you’re doing to me.

Muah,

Your Ego.

Let’s be frank.  We both know that nobody with any connection to the NFL is interested in becoming the coach of your team.  Why?  It’s simple — these guys are selfish nobodies who only care about the most trivial things, like winning games, drafting decent players, maintaining a good sports ethic, and other concerns that in no way lead to the development of an NFL-caliber team.  Forget about them.  Chumps.

In contrast, I know what it takes to bring back the Raider spark.  I understand and share your values, or lack thereof.  Thus, I have prepared a list of some reasons why I feel I am qualified to become the next coach of the Oakland Raiders:

Reasons Why I’m Qualified to Coach the Oakland Raiders

1.  I have a mean left hook.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

2.  Other than backyard pickup games, I’ve never been on a football team, nor have I ever dedicated myself to learning the sport.  In other words, I can relate to Jamarcus Russell (see below).  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

3.  I lost both hands in a work-related accident, and therefore have no fingers upon which to put Super Bowl rings.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

4.  I tend to hate MVP quarterbacks who led our team to victory in the past.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

5.  I would never pass up the opportunity to draft a drunk and disorderly kicker in the 1st round of the NFL Draft (see below).  NEVER.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

6.  With respect to #5, if a talented young kick holder were available, we may have to take him into consideration.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

7.  My crazy old grandfather is a blast.  You and I would get along just fine.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

8.  While most coaches work hard to earn a Super Bowl trophy, I work hard to have my post-game press conferences end up on Coors Light commercials.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

9.  I respect Senior Executive John Herrera.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

10.  I like the Chargers, and love to see them win.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

11.  I can get my team to play 2 to 3 quarters of tough, competitive football.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

12.  I am an admirer of Mother Nature, and seeing the bright, yellow flags falling upon the luscious green field reminds me of just how beautiful our world can be.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

13.  In the spirit of the Black Hole, I inspire to have our games “Blacked Out “on local networks.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

14.  In 10 years, I feel Brett Favre will be a great asset to this team.  As a running-back.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

15.  I inspire to never have our games on Monday Night Football, seeing as how Jon Gruden is an announcer, and I feel that guy is a good-for-nothing douche.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

16.  Generally, I only plan on staying at a position for one year before moving on, two years at most.  This qualifies me to coach the Raiders.

Thank you for your consideration.

Respectfully,

Future Raiders Coach

——————-

For those of you reading this, feel free to send in more reasons why you think you’re capable of coaching the Raiders.  And if you’re on Twitter, get the trend ” #aldavisshouldhireme ” going.

Had I known that it would take longer to download an e-book from Barnes & Noble than it would to actually read the real thing, I’d probably just give up reading.

As I write this, I’m currently on hold with the B&N customer support (it’s been 15 minutes), listening to their cheesy music that sounds like it was written for Sonic the Hedgehog.  Of course, since Sonic was known for his super-speed, this music is definitely not well-received.

Ok, don’t get me wrong.  The Nook is freakin’ sweet.  It looks fantastic and feels great.  When my girlfriend told me she bought one for me as a Christmas gift, I was overjoyed!  The problem, however, seems to be that there’s nothing in place to support this thing.  It’s as if someone at B&N said, “Hey you, Pretty Lady, design an e-reader for me that looks great!”  And she did.  And they sold it.  And 1,837,028,028 people bought one.  After which, they realized, “Aw crap, we forgot to support this thing!”

Here’s a timeline of today’s Nook-related events:

9:20 am:  Log in to UPS tracking, see”Out for Delivery” as status.  Excitement Level:  6.

12:00 pm:  Eat lunch.  Think of Nook.  Think of eating lunch, while reading Nook.  Excitement Level:  8.

2:04 pm:  UPS man shows up, hands over package from B&N.  Excitement Level:  9.

2:06 pm:  Unpack Nook from packaging and finally hold it in my hands.  Excitement Level:  10.

2:15 pm:  Attempt to connect to Wi-Fi network to register.  Registration fails.  Excitement Level:  8.5.

5:25 pm:  Get home from work.  Connect to home network to register.  Registration successful.  Excitement Level:  9.

5:30 pm:  Attempt to purchase e-book.  Purchase fails.  Excitement Level:  7.

5:32 pm:  Attempt #2 to purchase e-book.  Purchase succeeds.  Excitement Level:  9.

5:35 pm:  Attempt to download e-book.  Receive message:  Queued: Will complete shortly.  “Shortly” turns into 45 minutes of nothing.  Excitement Level:  4.

6:35 pm:  Call Barnes & Noble customer support and am forwarded to Technical Department.  Placed on hold.  Excitement Level:  2.

6:36 pm:  Girlfriend, with the saddest and most disappointed look on her face, tells me that she can always return the Nook.  Excitement Level:  -20.

6:40 pm:  Download status changes to 10%.  Still on hold.  Excitement Level:  Hesitant 3.

6:50:  Download status still at 10%.  Still on hold.  Excitement Level:  -5.

7:00:  Remaining 90% of download completes in less than 1 minute.  Confusion.  Still on hold with customer support.  Excitement Level:  4.

7:16:  Current status.  Typing out this post.  Still on hold.  Sonic the Hedgehog reference made, which admittedly makes me a little excited.  Excitement Level:  5 + 2 (Sonic Bonus).

So yes.  I don’t know what the issue is, but it seems Barnes & Noble doesn’t think it’s a big deal that their system sucks.  All I know is that it took me about an hour to download my first e-book, and that as of 7:24 pm, I’m still on hold.  And I gotta take a leak.

Screw this, I’m hanging up.

If someone could discover a cure for the need to sleep that didn’t involve drinking either 3 Monsters, 5 cups of coffee or the equivalent, imagine the kind of life you could live.

Assuming you get 6 hours of sleep each night (which isn’t even the “recommended” amount), you’re spending 25% of your day doing nothing more than being unconscious.  If you lived to the ripe old age of 75, that’s 18.75 years of your life spent doing nothing at all.  Think about it.  If you served your “sleep-time” starting from the moment you were born, you’d be able to wake up and experience existence for the very first time by driving yourself to go watch an R-rated movie, go buy a cigar, vote for some old douchebag and walk into a titty bar.

Billions of dollars of research is going into developing treatments for people diagnosed with terrible diseases that allow them to extend their life expectancy by 1 year, 5 years, 10 years.  Why is nobody doing research into curing sleep?

I’m pretty sure we’d all like to extend our lives by 18.75 years.

It’s great and all that Obama put some effort in trying to push for a Chicago win, but for the media to suddenly paint it as “Oh, Chicago will win because of Obama’s greatness and awesomness!” is dumb for two reasons:

1. Chicago’s bid should win on its own merit, not because Obama + Oprah say it should.

2. Painting it as Obama’s Olympics is great for him if Chicago wins, but it sucks for him if Chicago loses.  Chicago lost.  Now people will blame Obama (whether it was his fault or not), and the media will have to eat its words.

Chicago: no Olympics for you!  St. Louis Cards fans: rejoice!

Back in those days, people actually had original ideas.  Sure, they were ridiculously simplistic ideas, sometimes to the point of mind-numbing stupidity … but dammit, they were original.  You really didn’t mind if the story wasn’t that great, or if the acting was a little on the sloppy side, you just wanted to be able to cheer for the protagonist.  Here’s a perfect example:

Original Idea #1 in 12 Steps

1.  Hero’s daughter is kidnapped by Villain.

2.  Villain demands that Hero kill a political target in exchange for daughter’s life.

3.  Hero agrees reluctantly, is taken aboard a plane to fly to target country.

4.  Hero escapes through some form of badassery (in this instance, killing all on-board and jumping out of plane mid-takeoff).

5.  Hero proceeds to target country.  Plane not needed.

6.  Hero kills 1,487 enemy personnel with 1 machine gun, 3 grenades, 1 knife.  Hero takes no damage.

7.  Hero’s shirt is ripped off, revealing ridiculously enlarged / oiled-up muscles.

8.  Hero flexes, yells.

9.  Hero is hurt by Villain.

10.  Just kidding, just a scratch.  Hero kills Villain in a testosterone-induced, extremely violent, man-overload.

11.  Hero hugs daughter.  Possibly kisses new love interest he’s picked up along the way.

12.  Roll credits.

Simple.  I mean, this idea was probably created in the 5 minutes it took the writers to take their morning dumps.  End result?

I mean, how can you say NO to a movie with the tagline: “Somewhere, somehow, someone’s going to pay”?  I mean, that tagline answers all important questions I had about this film:

Who?  Answer:  Someone.

What?  Answer:  Will pay.

Where?  Answer:  Somewhere.

How?  Answer: Somehow.

When?  Answer:  Whenever Arnold chooses.

Why?  Answer:  Because Arnold said so.

Commando should have won 10 Academy Awards, 5 of which needed to be created just for this movie.  If you need evidence depicting Arnold’s Best Actor-deserving performance, well here you go:

Just for the hell of it (and to further prove my point), here’s another example:

Original Idea #2 in 5 Steps

1.  Hero Trains.

2.  Hero Does Splits.

3.  Hero Fights.

4.  Hero is Blinded.

5.  Hero Still Wins.

End Result?

Bloodsport.  It’s shown over-and-over-and-over again on basic cable TV for a reason:  it’s just that good.  Words cannot convey just how manly I feel when I watch this movie.  Suffice it to say, if the movie’s protagonist, at any point in the movie, does this:

…then he should win some award.  I don’t care if they give him a certificate printed using Microsoft Publisher, a half-eaten bag of Skittles and a pair of Crocs.  Do it.

Nowadays, lots of movies are just reproductions of someone else’s idea.  Transformers = 80′s cartoon.  G.I. Joe = 80′s cartoon.  Watchmen = 80′s graphic novel.  Terminator Salvation = more Terminator.  Sometimes, it works.  It’s my guilty pleasure — I’ll bitch and moan about it, but I’ll still watch it.  But I absolutely hate it when some douchebag director decides that they can portray this iconic idea better than the original creators intended.  I mean, come on.  Here’s the G.I. Joe I grew up with:

I mean, that’s just a bunch of heroes, there.  Real American Heroes.  You’ve got Flint with his hands on his hips, showing off his ripped biceps, with an aura of good ‘ole American about him.  You’ve got Snake Eyes standing about just looking like he’s ready to put the hurt on somebody.  Roadblock is chilling in the back, wearing a camo top with a definitely-not-camo bottom, waiting to kick some anti-American ass.  Not sure what Scarlette’s doing.  And Duke is apparently all for black power.  Awesome.

As you can see, it’s a diverse bunch.  So what did the movie do?

First off, I immediately knew this movie was going to be one big pile of suck when I learned that G.I. Joe would no longer stand for “Government Issued” Joe.  Instead, G.I. Joe was now G.I.J.O.E., or “Global Integrated Joint Operating Entity.”  Stupid.  Stupid * infinity.

Second … what the hell are they wearing?  I do not want my heroes saving the world while still wearing last-night’s bondage session outfit.  Go change and put on some camo, dammit.  These are the wussiest looking heroes ever.  Don’t believe me?  Here’s Cartoon Duke:

The guy is a beast.  It seems as though he’s just parachuted into Hades itself, blowing away scores of America-hating demons.  If you drank this man’s sweat, you would instantaneously grow a beard and chest hair, regardless of gender.  And now, the person they cast for the role:

Really?  This guy?  He couldn’t scare off a group of Girl Scouts trying to sell him some cookies.  In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen his picture up in an Abercrombie store before:

So please.  Please.  If any person in Hollywood, or anyone with any connections to people in Hollywood, reads this, do us all a favor: bring back the originality.  Stop thinking that you’re better than a classic.  You’re not.

Being the not-so-intelligent guy that I am, I was naturally drawn to the picture first.  I immediately thought, “Awesome, this article must be about nice asses.  I am now interested.  Thank you, Yahoo!, for making my day a little bit more entertaining.  I shall read this.  But first, let me shift my eyes over and read what this headline has to say about ….. WHAT?! … OBESITY?!”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Do you see any “obesity”?  Cause I sure don’t.  You wanna know what I see?  One girl with no ass, and one girl with a NICE ass.  Nice ass  = obesity?!

Pffffffff, if that’s the case, then Girl #1 needs to go find herself some obesity.

Back in May, I didn’t think I’d be asking this question, seeing as how I don’t really have a “summer.”  It’s interesting how the experience of summer as a student differs from the experience of summer as a working adult.  When Summer 2009 was approaching, I didn’t exactly look forward to months of being able to sleep in, stay up late, and do just about whatever I felt like doing.  Instead, I just figured it’d get a lot hotter when I was at work.  I knew there were a couple of things to be done over the summer (2009 Conference in Chicago, visits to LA, etc.), but most other things revolved around my everyday life: wake up, eat, shit, work, Fraternity, eat, TV, sleep.  Same ‘ole, same ‘ole.

Rewind to May or so.  Roommate told me he was moving out, meaning I either had to find another roommate or find another place (ended up finding another roommate).  Then he decided he wasn’t moving out.  Then he was, then he wasn’t.  After about a month of not knowing, he decided: he wasn’t moving out.  Despite all the confusion, I was pretty glad to know I’d be living with the same guy for another year.  I think we’ve grown accustomed to one another … The Office, Entourage, tennis / basketball, Lakers, video games, couch laziness, wine nights.  “Good start to my summer,” I thought.

Roommate also decided he was going to be traveling to Europe for some program he’d applied to (for good posts about this experience, see his blog).  I guess I was a little jealous: jealous that he had the “student summer” and the opportunity to experience something great.  I suppose that’s one of the benefits of being a teacher?  Not only that, he’d be traveling to EUROPE.  Awesome, no?  Turns out that there was just as much indecision in preparing for this trip as there was with deciding whether he’d move out or not: didn’t pack until the night before (haha, we all had a good time egging him on as he asked us different questions about things he should pack), didn’t buy some needed supplies (had to let him take my deodorant, haha), left stuff in the kitchen (finding food a month later was not that great, LOL), but the biggest thing: didn’t look for a sub-letter until about a week before his departure.  I suppose if I had to prep for a trip to Europe, I’d probably be pretty unorganized, too.  How the heck do you prepare for living in another country for more than a month?

I thought that this procrastination could only end with me having to live with a 35-year old, weird married man (which, believe it or not, was actually an option he proposed to me).  When you have 3 days to find someone to sublet, you can’t exactly be that picky.  Still, I said no … “Ain’t no way I’m settling for the first person you find.”  As it turns out, though, things ended up working out … which is what we both kind of assumed would happen.  “I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end,” we kept saying.  A day or two before Roommate left, he ended up finding a 20-something moving out to the Bay Area looking for a job.  Nice.

Those of you who’ve lived with a sub-letter know what it can be like at first.  I picked Sub-Letter up from the BART station late one night and made small talk on the way home.  I hate awkward silence, even if awkward conversation is the only alternative.  Asked where he was from, where he went to school, talked sports, etc.  I made an effort to bring the guy around to all the random things I’d do.  Went on hikes with friends.  Blakes.  Movies.  Mini-golf.  Interestingly enough, some of my friends became his friends, my drinking holes became his drinking holes, etc. … things turned out to work fairly well.

I ended up traveling to Chicago in June for a Fraternity Conference.  I hate flying, but it actually wasn’t too bad.  Watched the Dodgers play the White Sox on the Southside (Dodgers got whooped).  It was very hot.  It was very humid.  Solution?  COLD BEER!  I got sick and thought I was about to die at one point during the trip, though … but still, I had a GREAT FREAKIN’ TIME.  Definitely need to travel back to Chicago at some point.

I kept up with Roommate over the summer.  I thought it was pretty neat that I was talking to the guy while he was a world away.  I enjoyed reading his blog posts.  He’d sometimes see pictures I’d post on Facebook of Sub-Letter and I hanging out, and he’d joke he was being replaced.  I thought about that.  Is that what it looked like?  Was that actually happening?

Nah … of course not.

I can’t say one person is better than the other, or one person is a better roommate than the other.  I think I can have just as good a time with either guy.  Still, at this apartment, Roommate will always be Roommate, and Sub-letter will always be Sub-letter.  No priority given to one over another — just a title, I guess.

Still, it was funny when Roommate got back.  Immediately told my girlfriend and me that Sub-Letter must have smelled, because his sheets stank.  Being that Sub-Letter had become a good friend over the course of the summer, I didn’t exactly know how to respond.  Tried to defend Sub-Letter a bit, but mainly ignored it.  I was just glad Roommate was back and wanted to hear all the stories he had to tell (I still need to see the pictures, too).

Well, when it came up again in one of his blog posts, with a couple of other goodies, I figured I had to clear things up a bit!

1.  Had I known when roommate would get back, there would’ve been a nice welcoming celebration.  He didn’t give me a heads up, though, which did kinda suck (more for him — he got locked out!).

2.  No, Sub-Letter did not stink.  Probably had something to do with the Roommate just not being used to being back home and in his own bed (or the fact that he hadn’t washed his sheets since before his departure).

3.  Bathroom was cleaner than it was when Roommate left.  Steel wool + dirty tub that had been cleaned, but hadn’t had a good scrub down since before I moved in = “Oh, THAT’S the color it’s supposed to be!”  Also, hairy bathroom floor post-Europe = hairy bathroom floor pre-Europe (i.e. not my hair).  Haha, yeah, we’re a bit messy … but not THAT messy.

Anyways, I think Summer 2009 was a success.  I’m glad I got to travel a bit.  Glad that Roommate got a chance to do the same.  Glad to have met Sub-Letter (and that he’s now living in SF).  And now, I’m glad Roommate is back.

So here’s a quick recap of Summer 2009:

1.  Fraternity Conference in Chicago … hot / humid / fun / beer.

2.  Mini-golf … quite competitive.

3.  Grow-A-’Stache Fundraiser … success!

4.  4th of July BBQ in SF … beer.

5.  Sub-Letter … looking forward to more good times.

6.  Roommate … welcome back!

Here’s to a great 2009 – 2010!

I sometimes find myself thinking that I’ve just managed to come up with a great idea, be it a possible business venture, ingenious invention, or intriguing blog post — and 2 hours later, look back and wonder why I actually thought something like that would work.  The more time you have to critique and scrutinize an idea, the more likely you are to do so.  After hours of assessment, what once seemed like a good idea often becomes more of a joke.

This is a good thing.  This is also a bad thing.

Ideas NEED to be criticized — ideas live off of criticism and judgment.  This is true for ideas in science, philosophy, politics, sports … you name it.  There is no perfect idea.  The greatest ideas are those that can withstand these evaluations and still be convincing.  Sometimes ideas really are just bad ideas.  Even then — just because an idea doesn’t appear to survive this analysis and can’t be categorized as a “good idea” doesn’t mean that it can’t have an impact on someone’s life.

Yesterday, while driving home from work, I remembered an idea some friends and I had in high school.  I’ll call it Idea X.  Many people might think of Idea X as a silly thing, attributed to the naivete of adolescence.  Regardless, I found myself thinking that Idea X quite possibly was one of the most defining moments throughout my days in high school.

High school was a lot of things.  Friends.  Homework.  Late nights.  Projects.  IDP.  Crushes.  Grades.  Dances.  Experimentation.  The list goes on.

Idea X, however, is something that I always find interwoven with memories of high school.  Not only that, I find that Idea X is still active in my mind today, a constant reminder of just how powerful and effective ideas can become.  The other things were important, sure, but sometimes not as influential: I don’t talk to a lot of friends from high school anymore.  I’d probably have trouble with simple algebra.  I could care less about the grades I earned in high school, or the projects I worked on.  High school romance, in hindsight, makes me laugh at just how silly and trivial it really is.

But not Idea X.  It came about almost casually.  We went through with it.  And sure, maybe it didn’t leave too large of an impact on the world.  But quite frankly, it made a HUGE impact in mine.  I’m certain the people involved with Idea X don’t realize this.  Which is why, when driving home, it finally hit me.  We’ve all had ideas come and go.  We’ve all said things, heard things, seen things, without giving a damn.  But if Idea X could have impacted me as much as it did, when conventional wisdom would likely argue that it shouldn’t have, then how have the things I’ve done throughout my life made an impact on others?

Good ideas can lead to bad decisions.  Horrible ideas can catalyze innovation.  You never know how an idea will end up affecting someone.  Think about that.  Something you say casually to a friend and forget 20 minutes later could have consequences (positive or negative) that you never imagined.

So there will always be good ideas, and there will always be bad ideas.  But there will never be a useless idea.

Gym farts are the worst.

When I’m at the gym, there’s honestly nothing that pisses me off more than a silent sneaker wafting around, produced by some anonymous individual.  I mean, I know you’re straining and stressing when lifting weights, but it’s pretty damn easy to hold it in.

I went to the gym the other day and was laying out on an inclined bench doing some chest exercises.  There were a couple of other dudes around, minding their own business, too.  The fan was on.  Weights were clanking.  Things were fine.

Suddenly, some girl decides to grab a bench and place it about 2 feet behind my head.  “Whatever, she’s not in my way,” I thought, as she decided she would be doing some sit-ups.  Suddenly, out of nowhere, my nose was karate-chopped by the worst, foulest, gag-inducing, smelliest fart I’ve ever experienced.  If Hitler and Helen Thomas were to have a baby together, and that baby were to take a dump on your head, it probably wouldn’t even smell this bad.

My energy was literally drained.  The weights were impossible.  I looked around and saw all the other guys making “holy-shit-that-stinks” faces.  I think at one point, my heart could have quite possibly stopped (though, I can’t verify this, as this could have been a side effect of the Hitler-Thomas fart).

Now, this may not have been AS bad if the girl was at a reasonable distance from me.  Unfortunately, like I said, she was sitting about 2 feet from my head.  I’m almost positive that shit-particles found their way onto my face.  Unbelievable.  The icing on the cake?  This wretched anus of a woman was blushing like crazy, but that didn’t stop her from looking around and trying to draw everyone’s attention to her, just so she could also make the “holy-shit-that-stinks” face as if to say, “Oh, wow, do you all smell that?”

YES.  OF COURSE WE SMELL IT.  IT’S YOU.  YOUR ANUS.  WIND COMING FROM YOUR SPHINCTER.

Gym farts are the worst.