"Based on a True Story"
I saw an ad on a bus today for a TV movie called "Homeless to Harvard". Of course, the ad said it was "based on a true story". They need to say "based on a true story" so nobody says "What fucking moron came up with the idea for that?"
All you have to do to keep people from laughing at your TV movie is to say "based on a true story". Even if your movie is about a mentally retarded, one-eyed midget who battles her addiction to sex with farm animals and is reunited with her long-lost brother who turns out to be a bakery chef who defecates in the lemon meringue when no one's looking. "Hey, don't blame me!" you can say. "That's what really happened! It's not my fault that this movie is so gut-wrenchingly implausible. It's 'based on a true story'. So you better believe it, asshole!"
You know what I'd like to see? Not "Homeless to Harvard". I want to see "Harvard to Homeless". I want to see a movie about a smelly wino with an extensive knowledge of Shakespeare. I want to see a story about a guy who quotes Chomsky while he begs for change. I want to see a guy who's implemented the principles of Feng Shui in his cardboard box. You know, with his bag of cans in one corner and his bottle of piss in the other. For maximum tranquility.
Oh, you don't like this idea? Well, fuck you. It's based on a true story.
My Apartment Building Smells Like Indian Food
Two guys just moved onto the floor of my apartment building. They're on the far end of the building, yet somehow the entire hallway now smells like Indian food. Now, I happen to like Indian food. But when I smell what seems to be Indian food, and I know the smell is emanating from the living quarters of a couple of Indian men, I naturally assume that what I'm smelling is Indian food, only it's been digested and is now oozing out of the pores of their underarms in a disgusting, sweaty mess. Like vindaloo B.O.
A New Kind of Beer
I'm gonna start marketing a new beer. It's got 2% alcohol. It's called "Stay Buzzed". You can drink as much as you want, and you'll stay at the exact same level of drunkenness you're at when you start drinking it. It'll sort of be like keeping your car in idle. Only your car is plastered and you're worried about your car puking all over the fucking place.
People Who Talk on Mobile Phones on the Bus
There's nothing more annoying then some asshole talking on a mobile phone on a public bus. This morning, the traffic near the Lincoln Tunnel was at a standstill, and it was only a matter of time before one of these assholes would be on the phone to their coworkers to fill them in on the delay. And every conversation was exactly the same:
"Hello. Hello? Hi, yeah, I'm on the bus. I don't know what happened. We've been sitting here for an hour. I don't know if it's an alert, or if there was an accident...yeah, so I'm gonna be late. Yeah. I don't know what it is. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, so I'm gonna be late. Hello? Hello? Yeah, so let Bob know that I'm not gonna be able to make the meeting. Ok? Ok? Ok. Ok, bye. Yeah, I'll see you soon."
One after another. Same fucking conversation.
Here's how I would've handled the situation, if I actually owned a mobile phone. I'd put my phone up to my ear and carry on a make-believe conversation:
"Hello. Hello? Yeah, I'm on the bus. You should see this guy sitting in front of me. He's got a big, ugly mustache and a really cheesy fake leather jacket. Yeah, he's on the phone right now. You should hear his conversation. What a fucking moron. I just heard the same conversation from about five other people. This guy's like a fucking robot. Yeah. Hello? Yeah, right now. Hear him? He's kissing his boss' ass, it's fucking pathetic, what an annoying asshole. Yeah, until about two minutes ago, I was enjoying a nice nap, until he and the other loudmouthed fuckheads starting yelling into their goddamn phones. Yeah. Hello? Yeah, and the woman sitting next to me, Jesus Christ. This fat bitch is so inconsiderate she let her phone ring for about thirty seconds straight before she finally dug the goddamn thing out from under a pocketbook full of Twinkies and Slimfast. Yeah, she must be so stupid she hasn't figured out yet how to turn the fucking thing to vibrate. Yeah, I don't think Beethoven had the telephone in mind when he wrote that symphony. Yeah, seriously. You should see this bitch. Anyway, I gotta get going. Yeah. Ok. Ok, I'll see you later. Ok, bye."
Laughing by Yourself in Public
Have you ever laughed out loud by yourself? It's kind of embarrassing. I was reading George Carlin's Brain Droppings on the bus this morning, and I couldn't suppress myself. This book is so fucking funny, I had to look up and actually take breaks between sentences. There's something a little awkward about cracking up by yourself while the guy next to you is reading the Wall Street Journal. Carlin's got a section in the book called "Dealing with the Waiter" within G.C.'s Guide to Dining Out which is fucking genius.
"Tell your waiter you want to make a substitution: 'Instead of my napkin, I'll have the lobster tails.'
"When the food arrives, change your mind. Say, 'I've changed my mind, waiter. Instead of the roast suckling pig, I believe I'll have a half order of Kellogg's Product 19.'"
I was a little worried, though. I was afraid that I'd get to a section of the book titled "People Who Should Die" and that one of the people listed would be "People who laugh to themselves while reading a book on the public bus."
Interestingly, I've written something along the same lines as Carlin. (40 Ways to Fuck With a Bad Waiter) I can admit when I've been outdone. I was outdone.
Music to Masturbate To
Everyone talks about music that's good for having sex to. Usually, somebody names Barry White. Or some kind of electronic dancy shit. The latter, apparently, is like training wheels for guys who can't keep good rhythm while thrusting.
What you don't hear, though, is anyone talking about which music is best for masturbating to. How about U2's "The Hands That Built America"? It's patriotic and historically accurate.
I wonder if anyone has ever masturbated over the American Flag.
I also wonder, back in the days of the record album, if anyone was in the middle of having sex when the record started skipping. Like, you're right in the middle of the act, and then you start hearing "Let's Get It On" repeating over and over. What do you do in that situation? Do you get up and deal with the record, or do you keep fucking? I think if the stereo were within pillow-throwing distance, you'd try to nail the record player without getting up. But what if the stereo were in another room? And what if you were listening to Rage Against the Machine and all you kept hearing was "Fuck you, I won't do what you...Fuck you, I won't do what you...Fuck you, I won't do what you..."
I think what you should do is fuck like you've never fucked before. Make her scream so loudly that you can't even hear the music.
Ice Breakers
When you're hanging out with people you've just met, some people like to have "ice breakers". These are idiotic games or conversation starters to get people talking to each other.
Here's my version of an ice breaker. I ask everyone, "When have you ever run for your life?" The women don't always have an answer to this question, but I guarantee every real man has at least one answer to this question. And make sure you qualify the question so that everybody understands that they just needed to think that their life was in danger, they didn't actually need to be in danger. I guarantee you will get some interesting stories.
I have at least four answers to this question. Twice I was drunk at the time, and twice I was stoned. But only one of these stories involves a guy with a baseball bat.
I also like to start conversations while taking a piss at a urinal. This can be especially entertaining, because most men find it somewhat awkward to be asked a question by another man while their penis is sticking out of their pants.
The other day, a guy stepped up to the urinal next to me with a plastic bag under his arm. As soon as he arrived, I looked at him and asked, "Excuse me? Oh, sorry. I assumed since you had a bag that you were collecting the deodorants." And I pointed at the blue hockey puck at the bottom of the urinal. He said "no".
It would have been pretty amazing if he were collecting the deodorants.
