Look, not to mock, but...

The office next to my office is the regional Mary Kay office. We figured this out not only by all of the pink signs they hang in their open doorway, but also because about once a week when T-Bone and I are working late, they'll have a training seminar. And when they do, for an hour, the following comes through the walls for an hour:

"That's right! You can do it! You can change your life through Mary Kay!"

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

"What are we about? We're about empowering women!"

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

"You have the power! Mascara! Lipstick!"

"Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

You, of course, need to imagine all of that in a high-pitch sugary sweet voice tone.

I'd never peeked into the Mary Kay regional office. Until today, for some unknown reason. Hanging in the center of the foyer is a huge portrait of Mary Kay Ash, the founder of Mary Kay. The woman who empowered us all to powder.

I give you, Mary Kay Ash:

Look, I mean, I seriously promise you that I don't want to mock the woman. But, does it look like they kind of painted her makeup on and then took their fingers and physically pushed her face skin around into that configuration? Because to me...I mean, look at her eyes. I'm pretty sure that once as a teenager I had that shade of smokey purple eye shadow. I think it was even Mary Kay brand. Did I look like that?

Far be it from me to dis-empower the women of Mary Kay, but do the wonder if this is really the look to be hanging in the middle of their foyer? That mouth. It's like they just pushed her mouth around until it resembled a smile.

I just....Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

It's all a girl could ask for.

Well, obviously, a girl can't get all that much happier than I am right now.

Firstly, a story from watching the game today. We were at Instant Replay. In front of us was a family. The mother was a Broncos fan. She was decked out. The father was a Steelers fan. He was decked out. The six-year-old little boy had sided with his mother and was, clearly, a Broncos fan.

During the first quarter, the little boy starts crying, CRYING, because the Broncos are losing. The father is, at this time, an excellent father and lifts the little boy up and takes him outside to calm him down. Then, he brings the child back in. Except that he brings the child back in at exactly the same moment that the Steelers score again. What does the father do? He puts the child, who has started wailing again, down on the floor and starts cheering wildly for the Steelers' score. The child starts wailing louder and louder, and so the father turns to the child, gets right into his face and yells, "I'M SORRY" ... and then goes right back to cheering for the Steelers.

Now that's a fan.

I ordered a Steelers' belly button ring today.

Okay, so obviously the win was hugely emotional for me. And the idea that the Steelers could win the Super Bowl (and they really, really could win it), is emotional. And I actually cried at the end of the game. I could say all the things that people are saying. That it should be destiny for The Bus to go out this way. That Cowher and the Rooneys deserve this. That Pittsburgh is a team that does things the right way. A team that drafts players based on how they will represent the team and the city and the family. A team that doesn't put your worth on one season. A team that holds the identity of the city it calls home more than almost any other team. That it would be right for them to win. But you all know that.

Jake Plummer took the loss on his shoulders. Sure, his team had "problems with protection" too, but you didn't hear him say that. It's a strange day when I'm saying that Jake Plummer is twice the man Peyton Manning is.

We could do it. It could happen. Thanks for all of your calls, text messages, emails, etc. I feel it. I'm often cynical. The Steelers are making me believe that the people who do it the right way can really get rewarded. I feel it. If you were on the receiving end of my wild phone messages today, then you know I believe it. I feel it. Oh lord. Please. Please this year. Please.

Children of the Gym

First of all, just as note, Ho is correct in his comment to my post below. Little Athens should have made my list of worst movies of the year. In fact, that movie was so bad that I had banished all recollection of it from my head until Ho mentioned it. Now, I clearly remember that at one point in the film I actually felt like my eyes were bleeding it was so bad.

Now, on to today. So, the last three days at the gym, I've noticed an awful lot of teenagers in the gym, working out. I mean, like, 16 and 17 year olds. Maybe younger. Teenagers. In the gym. I've never seen such a thing, and now they are there in droves. DROVES.

I have mixed opinions about this. Leaving out the fact that it's embarassing to be on a treadmill getting smoked by the 17-year-old next to you, I still have mixed opinions.

On the one hand, it's a good thing that seemingly some parents out there are buying gym passes for their kids and getting them involved in fitness early in life. I like that. More kids getting into keeping in shape at a younger age will mean less unhealthy people later on, less solution by stomach staples, less fake diet solutions making millions off of desperate people, less, you know, all of that. I certainly support getting kids active early.

On the other hand...when I was a teenager, I had lots of ways to keep fit, like dance and sports. And those ways made me also interact with my peer group. Now, admittedly, I was raised in the land of the fried pickle and by the end of high school could have used some extra gym time, but that's not my point. My point is that going to the gym is not, in general, an activity that helps your kid learn to socialize. And so, by giving your kid a gym pass instead of putting them in a sport or a dance class or anything like that, you' may be helping to worsen the problem with this whole generation of kids who don't know how to communicate with anybody other than via IM or email or chat room.

So I'm torn. I guess in the end I'm mostly, like, just aggrivated about getting dusted on both sides of me by teenage boys last night.

Dear Steelers, Why do you tease?

I'm exhausted today. I was exhausted moments after the Steelers/Indy game ended yesterday. Pookie called, and I said, "I feel like you feel after you win a boxing match. You're exhilerated, but also totally beaten up." He said, "Yeah, that's how I feel too."

I had prepared for Sunday by busting ass on Saturday. I knew that no matter how the game turned out, I wouldn't be able to function for the rest of Sunday. Had they lost, I would have been inconsolable. When they won, as I expected, I was uncontrollable. Anybody who saw the game knows that it was a complete emotional roller coaster. The high of watching the Steelers drive down for two consecutive touch downs on their first possessions, the anxiety of watching Indy seemingly start to find their offense again at the end of the first half, ALL of the second half. I mean, you know what I'm talking about: the tight score, the interception that wasn't, the fumble, the missed kick. It was all amazing. And every year I start to believe, and this year I'm not. Okay, I lied. I'm a total believer at this point. As much as I try to talk myself out of it, there's a little voice in my head that says "But it's destiny that the Bus should come within minutes of having his final career play be a fumble that loses a game and instead go on to win a Super Bowl in his hometown. Destiny!"

Sometimes, Pookie and I think the same things and can't even help it. So we're talking on the phone after the game, and Pook says, "You know what my favorite moment of the game was?" And it could have been a lot of things: Big Ben's tackle, Petyon's embarassing whining after the game, the look on Jerome's face when the kick missed, etc. But what Pook said was the same thing I had said was my favorite thing about the game right after. He said this, "After they reversed the interception on Troy Polalmau, he just got up, put his helmet on and went back to work. It was awesome."

That game was awesome. I'm representing. I missed home (both of them) over the weekend. But I'm still representing. Ry and I and a bunch of peeps are watching the game this Sunday if you want to come.

A lot of people are making a big deal out of Peyton calling out the o-line after the game in the press conference. What's so sad is that all he would have needed to do to avoid that was this: instead of saying "I'm trying to be a good teammate, but...we definitely had some problems with protection...." just say "We definitely had some problems with protection." Everybody knows that. It's just a statement of fact. But when you preface it with "I'm trying to be a good teammate..." then that changes the whole context. I don't have a strong opinion on the comment except to say perhaps you should only call your o-line out in games where you don't personally over throw a receiver by ten yards multiple times on plays when you did have time to set up. That's all.

I'm so satisfied right now.

A few other randoms:
- It was pointed out to me that I really can't claim to hate French film if for two years in a row my favorite films were French. Fair enough. I won't say it any more, you stuffy French whore, you.

- It was also pointed out to me that I should have at least mentioned the following films which I very much loved: Broken Flowers, 2046, and Duck Season. And, of course, The 40 Year Old Virgin.

- I was asked what my least favorite films were. In no particular order: Breakfast on Pluto (this was much better the first time when it was Hedwig and the Angry Inch), Boxers and Ballerinas (though in fairness my expectations were high because of the reading of Dancing with Cuba), Film as a Subversive Art, and Two for the Money. The last of which actually made me resent Hollywood for taking my $10 for a solid two weeks.

- I finally finished watching Dark Angel. Is it now wrong if I buy the fantasy novels?

- 24!!!!!!! OMG!!!!!!! That was the fastest two hours of television I ever watch.

That is all.

05: Films & Books, Films & Books

So I've been promising to list my favorite 7 2005 films for one yearly summary I do with a favorite person and my five favorite 2005 books for another one. So here we go.

Films! In order of the love I give them!

1. The Intruder (Claire Denis): God, I normally HATE French impressionistic stuff, but this film was so beautiful, and the themes of aging and familial connection and mortality and longing are so...impactful. It's just beautiful at every moment. It makes you feel like you're in a dream, but a dream that makes sense. The kind of dream you have when you're already partially awake so you feel it even more intently. It's the best film of the year. Hands down.

2. Sepet (Yasmin Ahmad): See the thing is that there are many things not done, you know, maybe as well as they could have been in this film, but it's so SWEET. Just, the sweetest thing ever. At times I've even said it was my favorite film of the year. A love story of two teenagers who can never be together, and teenage love is the strongest love. And the most adorable scenes with loving parents. Yes, I did love this film.

3. Wedding Crashers (David Dobkin): If you try and tell me it wasn't one of your favorite movies of the year, too, I won't believe you. Shit is brilliant. That is all.

4. March of the Penquins (Luc Jacquet): I think we've covered in detail the emotional impact of this beautiful documentary on me and, well, most of the world. I still want to be back there watching it. I put in the dvd frequently, just in the background.

5. Narnia (Andrew Adamson): You know what? I haven't even seen it yet. You know what? I already know I'll love it and that it makes my list.

6. Murderball (Dana Adam Shapiro and Henry Alex Rubin): I mean, come on. Who didn't love this movie? Who?

7. Rent (Chris Columbus): I KNOW. I'm the one who's been saying that it doesn't translate all that well into a movie. But it's still Rent. It's still going to move you, especially if you've been to the stage show. And it's got almost all of the original cast. Hello, Jesse L. Martin. So yes. Rent.

And I'll give some honorable mention shout outs to Mouth to Mouth and Buy It Now, both of which were better than 90% of anything else out there.

And now, we move on to my five favorite things that I read this year:
1. The Namesake (Jhumpa Lahari): I went on and on earlier in the year about how much I loved this novel about, what else, the search for cultural identity across generations. Even now, thinking back on it, it still impacts me.

2. Dancing with Cuba (Alma Guillermoprieto): This is the most fascinating memoir of Alma's time teaching modern dance in Cuba during the height of Castro's rise. The struggle to be an artist within a social confine. It can drag a bit in the middle, but overall a fascinating read on the conflict of art with most types of societal structures.

3. The Pugilist at Rest (Thom Jones): I hadn't read this in a while, but the stories of the basic existance of human misery are still as dark and disturbing as I remember them. If you've never read this often under-rated collection of short stories, you probably should.

4. White Fang/Call of the Wild (Jack London): Also, for some reason this year, I felt like re-reading this. And, still good. Because sometimes it's easier to find empathy for and relatability with ... a dog looking for love while battling to survive.

5. Odd Girl Out (Rachel Simmons): There's a shocking lack of sociological study on girl competitiveness and agression in the pre-teen and teenage years. Simmons has an agenda, but what sociologist doesn't? A great sum up of the nasty development of under-the-radar nasty agression in young girls.

There you go boys. Tally it up.

How shamus? is ruining my life.

I heart tv series on dvd. I heart Dark Angel. shamus bought me both seasons of Dark Angel on dvd for Christmas. Each night I go home with a list of things I want to accomplish. A little extra work, clean out the cat litter, some yoga, laundry, thank you notes. Things of a necessary nature. However, what I do every night is realize I still have episodes of Dark Angel to watch. Last night was the one in season two when Zach returns but he's lost his memory. I cried. Damn you, shamus, you OWN me.

Also, I want this, but I'm horrified that they're charging $300 for it. It's probably not a good idea. That jacket would probably cut me off all wrong. I'd settle for the Barbie, but when did barbie dolls start looking like Alien freaks? That's not okay.

Oh, and if you really want them, beer pong pictures are here.

At the World Series of Beer Pong

Imagine that you are at a frat party.

Now imagine that you are at a frat party where no sorority chicks have been invited.

Now imagine that you are at a frat party where no sorority chicks have been invited and several old alum dudes have shown up to "show the youngin's how to do it."

Now imagine that you are at a frat party where no sorority chicks have been invited and several old alum dudes have shown up to "show the youngin's how to do it" AND two dudes are going to win $10,000 in a drinking games.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the World Series of Beer Pong. And, sadly (or not), it's where I was last week.

Don't ask me why I was there. It's not worth going into. But in case you were unaware of how this game, this "sport" of beer pong is played. It goes like this:

Each team consists of two people. The teams line up on either side of a table that's about six feet long. On each side of the table are six half full beer cups. Each team member gets to throw a ping pong ball at the six half full beer cups of the opposing team. If the ping pong ball lands in the beer cup, the opposing team has to drink the beer. First team with all of their beer cups empty loses. For real. First place won $10,000.

There are specially constructed tables especially for this sport. There are also regional tournaments across the US.

When watching my first ever beer pong game, I noticed that between throws, the contestants were dunking the ping pong ball in a glass of water. The following ensues:

Me
Ry, why are they dunking the ping pong ball in water.

Ry
The, you know, fuzzies from the floor get on the ball and you need to rinse them off. It's the only sanitary way to do it.

Except, people, nobody changes the water in these glasses between rounds. So the fuzzies from the floor get in the water, the gross stuff from people's fingers gets in the water. Then the ping pong ball gets in the water. Then the ping pong ball gets in the beer. Then the beer is drunken. Sanitary.

Most of the competitors were college boys. But don't you worry, the theory that men always stay boys. There were no shortage of teams of men in their late forties there to relive their college days. In the heat of competition, the older dudes would scream at their younger competitors "WE INVENTED THIS GAME." Yep. That happened.

People wore matching team costumes. There was a dominatrix and her whipping boy. Two guys in sombreros and mustaches. "Tighter than your little sister" shirts. Seventies shorty shorts and gym socks and headbands. HOT.

The trash talking was unreal. Some dude looked a little bit like Screech from "Saved by the Bell," so every time he tried to throw the pong ball, the crowd would chant "Li-sa Tur-tle, Li-sa Tur-tle."

People were drunk. Needless to say. Yet they continued to drink. Playboy TV was there. It was...um.

There are pictures. I'll post them later.

Americas Youth: Taking sport to new levels.

New Years - That Happened

Last year for New Year's, we went to The Strip. And it was cold. And it was crowded. And it was ugly and I hated it. This year, I stomped my foot and said, "I don't want to go to the strip. I'm too old for that shit (which is ironic since if I were out with my girls I'd never say that). Let's go off strip."

And so we had a lovely dinner with possibly the least engaging people I've ever known in my life, and then we went...

To the South Coast.

I kid you not.

And I have nobody to blame for this buy myself.

People, it was the saddest thing I'd ever seen. All of these people in these ill-fitting dresses and these absurd shoes and party hats...drinking well drinks and, no, wait for it, PLAYING THE SLOTS. Cause there ain't no way to start a new year off like losing $50 large to a SLOT MACHINE. You know how sometimes you're in a casino and people are all hyped up and the energy level is really high and even though you'd rather be home with your cats, it's still fun? And you know how other times you're in a casino and you feel beaten down just by looking at the zombie-like faces of the people as they shuffle from slot machine to slot machine and you remember that a biological weapon will be dropped soon and there really will be zombies and this is what they will look like so maybe you'll be safe because all the zombies will want to do is feed nickels into the Wheel of Fortune machine? This was the latter.

And, and, and...OHMYLORD, people actually looked up from their slot machines when the ball dropped, yelled "Happy New Year" and then went immediately back to pulling the lever.

America is over. OVER.

Holiday thank you list is coming. That' s much more uplifting.

And so, it's 2006

It is! It is! It is! And I'm so excited. I have so many exciting things scheduled for this year, that I think I'll actually have to work at it to have a lame ass year. I mean, I know it could happen. I've been avoiding card readings and the like early this year because I don't want anything to ruin my illusion that this is going to be a kick ass year.

And speaking of kick ass, this year's motto is "kicking ass, 24/7." Mostly because it has to be.

Ma.gnolia launches next month. I have a list a mile long of things I need to do for that. I've seen it, I've used it. It's awesome and I hope you love it. But I'll need to kick ass to make up for some unavoidable market delays.

Pregame has the most amazing marketing plan for the year, but it involves crazy insane revenue and membership goals. And to start the year? World Series of Beer Pong. That's right. That's where I'm spending time this week at our sponsor booth. The World Series of Beer Pong. I promise to write about it.

I'm going to China barring some ridiculous expansion of avian flu. For two weeks! China! With Ho and Lisa and hopefully Pookie. I can't even tell you...China!

I'm going to Arkansas too! To a spa! In the hot springs! With Catwoman!

I'm running LA with Scott unless I totally can't get my shit together. Which would not be kick ass, so we won't even entertain it.

I'm going to play this straight through, taking time off of work to do it. And I'm going to do the same with this. Which means I'll be buying a PS2. Because I need that.

I'm going to eat better. That said, this is what I did today on the phone:

Me
Ry, can you go through the McDonald's drive thru on the way into the office?

Ry
Yep. Whatta ya want?

Me
Four cheeseburgers and a diet coke.

Ry
Is that a cheeseburger for everybody in the office, or just you?

Me
Hush up. It's a diet coke.

I'm going to do awesome things in 06. I believe it. I believe it just enough to be avoiding card readings and the like.

2006: Kicking ass 24/7.