Thursday, December 14, 2006

Happy Holidays

Merry everything and be safe.


Monday, October 23, 2006

And Knowing is Half the Battle

Some redubbed GI Joe "And knowing is half the battle" shorts. Piss in your pants funny.


















For more of these links: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/tags/gijoe/

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Brief Commercial Interruption



Friday, July 21, 2006

Something More Substantial II

Based on a true story...

Standing on the platform, rush hour at the Union Square 14th Street train station headin home after another long day at work. The rain that just fell may have cooled off the city, but the tunnels still feels like a cavern of soggy heat. Ipod in my hand, listening to a remix of "The Score" by the Fugees (left.. right..left.. right) rocking to its easy beats. In the corner of my eye (like any good NYer keeping aware of his surroundings), i watch as a man, about 40 to 50 years old, is drinkin a forty out of a brown paper bag. Hes spittin out gibberish, "I take that foot and i sink it...white...they...what?" and ambles by. He's not making eye contact with anyone, and seems relatively harmless..another city drunkard nutcase i think as i raise the volume on my Ipod and drift away, content in my continued safety.

The 5 train finally pulls into the station, and im 20 minutes away from home and booboo land. Like a movie trailer before the real movie starts, the first few train cars are packed with people to the brim and gives me a preview of my soon-to-be-best-impression-of-sardine-in-a-can. A small crowd forms in front of the door and the guy behind me starts to try to cut ahead of me to get on the train. The concept of politeness is not only dead, its sneakers have been tied together and thrown over telephone cables. Whatever, i move ahead of him to cement my position as next person to get on the train. Meanwhile the young lady in front of me enters the train and gives her best impression of a statue and stands firmly at the door rather than moving in to the center of the train thus blocking the rest of us from entering the train. A word that rhymes with witch simmers to the surface of my lips. I walk around her and proceed to the middle of the train car. Quickly im surrounded by my fellow New Yorkers, smells and all, as the train packs to capacity.

Doon doon!

the train sings and pulls out of the station. On the express train towards Brooklyn Bridge, we pass by a few stations when I notice a small gang of kids to my left, not more than 16 or 17 years old to the left of me, being....well a gang of 16 and 17 year olds. One's dressed in Dominican colors complete with dominican colored hat, dominican colored shirt, and blue shorts. The biggest of them all, for some reason I name him Mongo. He's talking to his boy, ironically the smallest of the group...its like looking at Avery Johnson talking to Tim Duncan. The kid even looks a little bit like Avery Johnson. I look over to the doors and there two other kids that is mingling with this group. One's dressed in Yankee pinstripes as if hes ready for a baseball game at the drop of a hat. The last one's straight up normal lookin, white tanktop, blue jean shorts, and gold chain around his neck.
They're all laughing and shouting about all kinds of shit as I start to feel ashamed and fast forward past "All out of Love" by Air Supply on my ipod.

All of a sudden the air becomes more charged as I notice an older black man, older 30s-young 40s, bald head, collared shirt, loose jeans and timbo's...he stands up slowly and start to stare down the kid with the white tank. Clearly he's not part of this group and he's got beef. With a crazed look in the older man's eyes, some quiet words are exchanged. White tanks's boys start to notice something's going down and, like a pack, they all simultaneously become quiet and start staring down at the man thats daring to stare down their boy. The older man finishes staring at White Tank and sits back down. Suddenly White Tank is standing over him and continuing to stare and mutter inaudible threats. The older man pounces straight up from his seat and starts screaming:

Older Man (OM): IM A BOXER SON!! IM FROM THE OLD NEIGHBORHOOD! I SHOW YOU HOW WE DO THINGS BACK IN THE DAY!

White Tank is obviously unimpressed by OM's bravado and starts to laugh him off, loudly and mockingly. Meanwhile the pack, still eerily quiet, starts to move closer towards the man and close off any path for him to exit. Its at this time I start to lower the volume on my Ipod and do my best to look disinterested at the major clusterfuck thats starting to form.

OM: WHAT? YOU WANNA STEP UP? YOU WANNA STEP UP YOUNGBLOOD? I AM GETTING OFF AT...THE...NEXT...STOP AND WE CAN SETTLE THIS. WE CAN BOX! WE CAN BOX!! I WILL TAKE YOU AND ALL OF YOUR BOYS!!

White Tank isn't laughing anymore and starts to get up more in OM's face.

White Tank (WT): Why you tryin to start? You wanna fight all of us?

OM: THEY YO BOYS AINT THEY? ILL TAKE ALL YOU ON! I DONT GIVE A SHIT! I TAKE ALL YOU! FOUR OF YOU! FIVE! TWENTY! ALL YOU! I DONT GIVE A SHIT! YOU WANNA STEP? I WILL..STEP..! BECAUSE (pause)...BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT A MAN DOES!

White Tank's manhood challenged in front of everyone, WT does the quick math in his head and now he can't possibly afford to back down from this confrontation. White tank starts to talk about why wait until the next stop, they can take care of this here. I take a mis-breath at the suggestion and I quickly realize if they do start fighting, with the train so crowded, im going to get sucked into this fight and wont come out of this unscathed. I start to scold myself at the fancy boy way i dressed today , Kenneth Cole pants and dress shoes, instead of the more ready ,rough, and tumble 20 dollar jeans and converse sneakers that i could afford to get fucked up.

WT: WHY DO WE HAVE TO BOX? I CAN JUST SMOKE YOU RIGHT HERE BABY.

Shit, hes got a gun. The words "full scale riot" and "Get the fuck out" flash in my mind.

Its then that I notice that the train has grinded to a full halt and now we're stuck between stations.

To be continued...

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Thanks for the fish