Man-Maid?!

Yeah... not so much. I hope! Look, I love mothers as much as the next good son. I'm the oldest of 5- got nothin' but love, respect and adoration! But if I dress up like whatever freak y'all are voting on, I'm gonna lose all love. Respect. Adoration. ...Heterosexuality (which I happen to enjoy very much!)

So all you "kinks" out in DeBellaware Valley- 'Vote or Die' does not apply here. But if you must! Just remember... Brian wants maid and he is always wrong! In fact, after some internet research, I discovered that HE, in fact, has once donned the maid garb... witness!



Pink booty shorts or whatever the other crap candidate is will NOT be touching my skinny little white ass either, so let's just stop with the voyeuristic fantasies, shall we? Thank you. Don't even make me dig up pictures of that to deter you. In fact, here's an idea- start a petition for me. I know there's some 'Dave' fans out there, right?! And I don't mean the hippie frat-band guy. I'm talkin' routers for the underdog, the oppressed?! Well, here's your man. Right here. Help a brotha out! I am your Philadelphia Phillies, your Barbaro. If I gotta clean in one of these get-ups, you might as well break my leg and send me get well cards.


Think of my Mother then! Show some brotherly love for Christ's (and my) sake!

Check Engine... or else.

Well I know, I've become somewhat blog-slacker as of late. I admit it. There's a lot more goin though! Sometimes the memoir's gotta be the sacrificial lamb for churning out one amazing show after another. Dig?! Good...

Yes, a lot going on these days. More responsibilities on the show, in life! I wish John had Brian take that Bazooka bat to my car last week instead of me- it might have gotten my "Check Engine" light to shut off, and I coulda passed inspection! Unfortunately yesterday, I had to dip my hand deeper into my pockets than I did my face in mayo. And it was just to pay off a garage to tell me I failed inspection AND emissions!

Thanks, Tom (and fellow grease monkeys). I'm happy to dish out $95 for you to look at my tires and say 3 are shabby, and see that my check engine light is on. That's a sweet lil' pay-to-fail racket you got yourselves there- I'm in the wrong business! Good thing you're not my dentist... "Smile. Teeth could be whitened... 200 dollars, please." Or my landlord... "Your grass cutting sucks- rent's doubled!" Maybe my college professor... "Your thesis is a piece of shit- give me 50 bucks. Now."

God almighty. How does any car pass inspection?! Have you ever seen ANY car, made before 1998, that HASN'T had that stupid light on?>! I freakin' hate that light, man. That God-forsaken little orange turd that blinks... that obnoxious, money-costing, good-for-nothing, fear-mongering, choad sentence that now haunts me EVERY TIME I SIT BEHIND THE WHEEL!

Let this be a lesson to you, DeBella fans... don't let that little light stare you down much longer! It will get you. I don't care if you have to crawl up into the hood, inside your car, fore-arm deep in a jungle of twisted metal, gears and boiling oil... shut that damn light off!

Mazeltov!

I think that's how you write it. Cut me some slack! I just said it, yelled it, for the first time yesterday. And boy did it feel good! My first Jewish wedding. All I gotta say is, let's call a spade a spade- it's a bigass party.

The food, the people, the Hebrew... 'Grannies Gone Wild' on the dance floor... Enough wine to hold world-wide communion... pretty wild stuff. I'm a simple Gentile! Not privy to this stuff! I felt like a stranger at a Sopranos family reunion, only with smaller food portions and no pervading fear of losing my life. Pretty rowdy stuff though, for Sunday night.

But I made it to work today! I know some other fellow attendees will be succumbing to "the morning after" disease. It's ok- there's a cure! Water. Sleep. And... more sleep. Pretty sweet cure, I know.

Anyway, when I get home today perhaps I'll dig up a picture to post from my momentous, unprecedented experience. I'm easy to spot- the white guy without the yarmulka!

And yes, I had to look that up. And it is really spelled like that.

Mazeltov!

Craving Some Pastime

With Bill Giles in the other day and this current 5 game winning streak, I gotta admit... I am in desperate need of a Phillie fix! And not the kind you can find on a corner in Germantown. I gotta get me an ice cold beer, a warm Spring day and a decent seat at Citizen's Bank!

I'm feeling like a fake fan lately. Now 20 games into the marathon otherwise known as a baseball season... what are they, I guess 12% done?! Unacceptable. I deserve a fastball to the groin. Thrown by Randy Johnson... after he discovers his wife has been cheating on him. I'm ashamed! If John Kruk found about this, he would teabag me. And I would still be able to see out of one eye. So I guess that's where the Randy Johnson fastball should go!

Ugh, don't take after me true Phillie fans! Get your asses out to the park. Go today, go now! Tailgate, drink, chant, cheer, throw things, yell TO Sucks, whatever! And look for John, Jen and/or Brian today and realize I am there too... in spirit. My heart is in it. I just don't have any stubs. Soon! Payday is tomorrow. I'm coming for you "Flash"! I love you Chase! I want you Charlie! Oh wait...

Is that SUN?!

It is. It was. How sweet is nice weather?! Everyone is in a good mood... the Phils start winning... I even saw a pigeon sharing a street bagel with stray cat. But that was on 4-20. Probably the heat!

Anyway, I stayed in Philly the whole weekend. Truly a rarity, at least in this intern's life. Seeing as how practically everyone I know from college has moved out (back home, mostly). AND both mine and the girlfriend's kin reside in the Lehigh Valley (NOT the Poconos, as John swears!) we end up going home most weekends. But not this time!

Yesterday we might as well have been down in A.C. You coulda caught us two honkies, we were brightening up our Northeast neighborhood in the "backyard," which in reality is a 5 x 15 plot of concrete surrounded by chain-link fence. Nevertheless, we made it our beach as we layed out on our slick new Kmart loungers. We had Scrabble out, our sun tan lotion, wine... basically an unprecedented showing of whiteness in the nieghborhood. And it was heaven!

Until my skin started to peel. But hey, it's NICE! Who cares?!? I WANNA BURN!

Go outside.

2 Week Hiatus?! Well...

I apologize, loyal intern-supporters! Supporter? Anyone?! Got-damn. I hope someone is still out there... I feel like I'm back out in the Noreaster! Alone, adrift. Only this time it's cause I slacked. Well- I'm back like Don Imus. Oh wait...

In case you were worried, I was allowed back in, off my cutting-edge weather post. Jen was getting pissed- I was infringing on her show territory! At least that's what Giant Brian told me. So it's probably not true.

Anyway, I checked and it's been 2 weeks since I told intern tales. And those were not 2 weeks paid vacation- to quote Aerosmith and your middle school crush, "DREAM ON!" A lot has happened in the inter(n)rum... mainly, a lot of rock n roll... both at the station, at home jamming with friends, and out on the Philly rock scene. A lotta shows comin up for me and my gal, including last nights's Electric Factory pummeling by Sevendust.

Do yourself a favor before you die. The next time you're mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore?! Get yourself a Sevendust ticket. Go early. Get a spot as close to the drum set as possible. Remain patient through the ear-drum rape otherwise known as the opening acts. Or, build your anger for the release you will get once Morgan and co. take the stage. Once the lights dim, direct your attention to the floating armada that makes up Morgan Rose's drum kit, pump fist in the air and commence the ROCK. He will not disappoint! Forget the feng shui office with a shrinky-dink mulling your problems. Watching this guy bash his kit in for an hour and a half is my therapy! It's a freaking rush and a half. Picture watching a manic octopus of rock battling for his life! Yes, octopi have been known to give the finger. A lot.

...just take me up on it. You will understand. You will love it. Your wife will shake her head.

Spring Sprung

I know I said I'd continue my movie rental battle of the sexes, but I'm putting it off until I go to "the Block" tonight. My girlfriend has been fixated on this "Pursuit of Happyness". And that's how they spelled it, and no I don't have any idea why. But yeah, it's the father-son, cutesy shmutsey bonding flick with Will Smith and his son. She doesn't get it. I'll go appreciate something like that when I have rugrats of my own. Until then, I only wanna see Will Smith shoot at robots, thank you very much. If I'm pursuing happIness, I'm going to the 'Action' or 'Horror' section, not a sappy "just the two of us" melodrama. Pardon my inner guy.

And I know, Will Smith is Philly-boy turned good and all but come on! At least romantic comedies have babes and keen insights as to how females work. Some redeeming, useful qualities! I have a great dad. I don't need to pursue happyness with the Fresh Prince.

But anyway... what do I wanna talk about. The weather. Thank the Lord this crap came down today and not yesterday! If you heard the drama of "Deadliest Schkuykil Catch" play out, you'll know what I'm talkin' about. Had it been coming down yesterday like today, I mighta been getting rescued by the Penn row team. Gotta say though, it was quite the expedition. Be ready for more tours of duty in the future...

I gotsta run. Put the cell phone down and turn your wipers on. Thank you all, goodnight.