Let’s just start this off with a conundrum (and I’m amazed I can spell conundrum) … is it ridiculous that I spend ridiculous amounts of time trying to decide who is cooler – Dave Grohl, John Mellencamp or Brandon Boyd? Yup. Yes, I’m well aware that I’ve got some issues. Ridiculous ones.

Never hit a priest with your car. That’s what a priest told me recently … just after I almost hit him with my car. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad omen for the start of a Friday night. I mean, I’m already prepping to go out and do evil things … drinking, spending ridiculous sums of money, eating 10 to 12 slices of pizza while stumbling home … pretty sure that covers 3 of the 7 deadly sins right there. I’m sure I could work Lust in there, too. The only one that could be a problem would be Pride.

Speaking of, if lightning strikes your church and burns it to the ground, maybe it’s time to change religions? Don’t mind me … I’m just thinking out loud here.

Recently took a trip to California. Things I learned:

- the coastline of California is stunningly beautiful. I mean, we’re talking Mila Kunis covered in Kylie Minogue stunning.
- In and Out Burger rules. I mean, seriously. Rules.
- LA sucks. I mean, seriously. Sucks. I now understand why people in San Diego don’t like that city. Naturally, we got stuck in traffic there. Curse you, L.A.!
- I could take a good 10-15 years off my life if I lived in La Jolla, and that’s a conservative estimate.
- I was meant to live in Mission Beach. Why I’m not there is anyone’s guess. Maybe because of the lack of crime in Baltimore? Ok, I had a little trouble typing that with a straight face.

Are you allowed to tell Polish jokes at a Polish festival? Cuz I’ve got a good one. Did you hear about the latest Polish invention? It's a solar-powered flashlight. Maybe I’ll just get a kielbasa and keep my mouth shut.

I never realized just how terrific the lyrics to the song “Angel Eyes” by the Jeff Healy Band are. Wow.

How sweet is it that my girlfriend/roommate is talking about getting a new couch just in time for football season? Virtual high fives all around!

So, one of our cats escaped the house this week, and we basically had to capture her to get her back. She’s semi-feral, so it’s not like we can just go pick her up and take her back inside. Lemme tell ya, the best way to make friends with your neighbors is to sneak around the alleys wearing all black and carrying an animal cage. Um, yeah. As a bonus, we spent a lot of time watching the cage, and a lot of times it looked like we were peeping in people’s windows. Fab.

After 3 days of failed trapping and a near nervous breakdown, it turns out the best way to catch a semi-feral cat is to have two women get it to play with a cat dancer, scruff it, and then stick it in a trash can and put on the lid, all while you are inside watching The Real Housewives of Somewhere. If only I knew that from the start!

Ok, starting this one off with cat talk. You non-cat people (aka Commies) or those that are allergic (aka wimpy squirrels) can skip down. So, I'm chilling the other night, and suddenly there's a HUGE ruckus in the house. Cats flying around everywhere. I felt like I was in the middle of the cat Indianapolis 500 or something. The problem? A moth. Yup, that's it. So, here's my imitation of a cat's mind during Moth Time:

Hey, hey, HEY HEY HEY THERE'S A MOTH!! GET IT GET IT GET IT! MOTH! MOTH! MOTH!

[stops to clean left haunch where it bumped into a human]

GET IT GET IT MOTH GET IT MOTH!!

I also was jumped over at least 3 times as I was lumping up the couch. I felt like a hoop or something.

Also, I wrote a new cat song. You heard me. Check it out ...

CAT
C ... C you real soon
A ... absolutely!
T ... son of a ... someone puked on the futon again. Now I have to take off the cover, lug it downstairs, and wash it. Screw this, I'm going drinking. You fur-headed, butt-lickin' marmots can feed yourselves.

Hmm ... guess it still needs some work.

So, this is fairly comical. I ordered some Chinese for takeout, and when I went to pick it up, there was this little dude behind the counter working. I'm guessing he was around 8. I think they were showing him how to run the register ... they start 'em young in the Chinese restaurants, I s'pose. So, I pay, and he gives me back $5 too much. Not the best start for the kid. I hand it back to him and say "I think this is yours." He gets all fired up, and pockets it. I think he thought I was tipping him for being unable to make correct change. Ha! Atta boy, stick it to The Man! 'Course, The Man is probably his father, but whatever.

I've mentioned this ab machine at the gym before - you toss a ball, and it comes back to you, and you toss it again. Ok, really bad description, but that's not the point. The point is it pulls down my shorts, so I'm giving everyone a view of my ... uh ... coin slot? Yeah. It's a visual. Try not to hurt yourself getting it.

It's been awhile since I wrote, so I'll try to catch you up on what I've been doing. I went to Dewey Beach a couple of times over the summer. For you non-locals, the nickname of this place is Do Me Beach, which is pretty much the perfect nickname. It's a lot of drinking and ... mmm ... drinking. And then there's the drinking part. Anyway, here's what I remember of my visits there ...

...
... hang on, I think I've got something
... mmm, nope
...

Yeah. Well, anyway, there's a lot of drinking there, if you haven't already figured that out. I also came to the conclusion that Jell-O shots are like hand grenades. You do them, and then they hit you later ... like hours later. The fun is, by the time they hit you, you've forgotten you did them, so it's a real surprise!

Was at a party way back when, and they had organic vodka at it. Yup, that's exactly what I need ... "healthy" booze.

I have a bunch of notes in my phone, and I don't have the slightest idea what most of them mean. I'm sure you're surprised. A couple cracked me up, though:

"Moving stools for tools." Hmm. I'm pretty sure this had something to do with moving around barstools for some dorks. That, or I was doing carpentry work on my bathroom. Anyway.

"Portside back door space time continuum." The fact that I was able to type this correctly after drinking is impressive enough. I have no idea what it means. I'm pretty sure Doc from Back To The Future was involved, though.

"Large group of women dancing to P.Y.T. and blocking the bar." Ok, I think I can figure that one out. Seriously, P.Y.T.? Wait, no, who cares about that ... seriously, blocking the bar?! C'mon now, look sharp!

"Stripes down, stripes sideways." Had to be an outfit at the Bay Cafe. Had to.

"I thought you put botox on your hips so your butt wouldn't jiggle!" Oh yeah, I definitely remember this one. We were on a bus in Ocean City, and the topic was Botox, and that's what the bus driver said. She also looked a lot like Alice from the Brady Bunch. True story.

"All white girl dance floor." Um ... ok. I'll let you figure out that one ...

Quick thought to start: as if I'm not skeptical enough about the "realness" of it, they put this edition of The Real World in Hollywood. Uh ...

If you've read this nonsense long enough, you know that Captain Morgan and I are good buddies. Well, it wasn't always like that. I didn't even know the good Captain in my college years, and even for a bit after that (he was playing hard to get or something). I spent some time experimenting with drink combos in college. Hey, it was better than studying and infinitely more expensive, so what's not to like? Anyway, here are a couple of my bigger failures:

Orange Crush and vodka. For those that don't know what Orange Crush is, it's basically orange soda. Yeah, I know, all you yuppie chick types are all over the new orange crushes the bars are serving these days, but I'm talking the real stuff. It put hair on your chest and rotted your teeth ... which is something most chicks totally dig. Anyway, I drank this in college for a bit. Naturally, being in college, I used high quality vodka. Dark Eyes. If you haven't had Dark Eyes, well, let's just say that a portion of the size of the coke-bottle lenses in my glasses is likely due to my Dark Eyes usage. Hey, maybe that's why they call it that! Eureka!

Anyway, I called this nonsense an imitation screwdriver. Most of my friends called it Puke Sauce. Um ... yeah.

Rumplemintz and Sprite. You probably got a little ill just reading that. I actually thought this was one of my better ideas of the time. Considering that one idea I had at the time was the bed brush, which was a brush to clean the dirt out of your bed (I can't believe I actually admit to some of this idiocy), well the ol' Rumplemintz and Sprite idea was failure on toast, waiting to be served up. My girlfriend in college was a bartender for a bit, and a couple of us went to her bar one night to hang. Everyone decided to try my new drink and, naturally, she made nice, big, tall ones. Dig the scene:

[everyone tries the drink]
John: Ew
Mike: Ew
Me: Isn't this great?!
Elaine: Ew
[all look at me like I just kicked their dog and burned their house down]
Me: What?
[all look at their nice, big, tall drinks and look back at me]
Me: Hmm ...

As a bonus, I got to finish everyone's drink. Score! I never came up with a name for that one, but it was quickly dubbed ... you guess it ... Puke Sauce.

Enough of that ... for now. So, I have this iPod, and it's one of the bigger ones, so I have some 2000+ songs on it. I'm too lazy to put together playlists (I'm sure you're shocked by that news), so I generally just throw it on shuffle and skip through the songs I'm tired of hearing (which is about 1800+ of them, but that's another story). I've recently come to realize that "shuffle" means "play the worst 4.2% of the songs, including playing the Oompa Loompa song every time I turn on the machine."

That's right, I have the Oompa Loompa song. Try to contain your jealousy, lest you turn into a giant blueberry and get rolled down to the Juicing Room.

I can't believe I forgot to tell this story. A few months ago, I'm in the airport headed to a flight, and I was walking behind this woman. She dropped a bunch of stuff, so I stopped to help her pick it all up. I pick up a lipstick thing, a brush and .... a tampon. Hooah! I was pretty proud of myself. When I realized what it was, I managed not to go running down the hall, screaming like a 5 year old girl who just realized a centipede was in her hair (dudes, y'all know that's the initial reaction we guys have).

When I was in Vegas in March, I managed to catch the show Love, which is a Cirque de Soleil show based on Beatles music. I highly, highly recommend it if you like The Beatles at all. I've since grown a new appreciation for how incredibly talented they were at writing songs. Amazing stuff.

One other tunes recommendation - Eddie Vedder has some high quality songs on the Into The Wild soundtrack (which is a fascinating movie as well), particularly "Hard Sun."

Unfortunately, it looks like M. Night has failed his fans again. Oy.

This blog's getting long, so I'm going to save one story for the next one. Let's just say it's centered around the words "loosen up your butt." Yeah.

A recent note on my phone was this: Girl who smells like a hamster.

Yeah. I think I might just let your imagination run with that one. I couldn't figure out if she had cedar shavings in her pocket, or if she had spent all day on the wheel and eating pellets. Anyway.

Some brilliant gym stuff for your perusal:

1) They had this Corporate Wellness thing this week, which was a free service where you could get your health measures checked out - blood pressure, heart rate, sperm count, etc. Ok, I was kidding about one of those. So the title of this thingy is "Corporate" and it was held on a Wednesday from 10-2 ... when all the "corporate" people are at work. Hello ... McFly? Next up - a free health screening for strippers on Saturday at midnight.

2) This one trainer was training this dude, and having him do walking lunges with weights. If you've never done walking lunges, well, it ain't easy. It's a fairly athletic move, and it's hard, especially at first. I usually try to do them when I'm drunk just to really push the envelope and see if I can concuss myself. Concussions generally add to the buzz. Or so they tell me. What was I saying? Oh, so the trainer has the poor guy do them right down the middle of the busiest part of the gym. So, as if it's not bad enough that he's trying to do these and remain balanced, he also has to duck people left and right. Pure genius. I figure as long as you're giving him near impossible tasks, why not have him make Brittney Spears into a good mother and then whip up some world peace.

3) As if that wasn't enough, the same day, they have an obstacle course sort of thing set up ... that ended at the bottom of the stairs. I was just waiting for that saying about people, stairs, and slinkys to come to life. Naturally, the people using the obstacle course weren't the most athletic, either.

Random note: someone needs to hurry up and open a bar called The Pickled Liver. I'm just sayin'. C'mon, you know this has to happen. Why fight it? Give in to your liver picklin'.

Two notes from a wedding I went to this past weekend:

1) I was pointing something out to a friend, and I said "It's over there behind that dude." The response you don't really want to hear? "That dude is my Dad." Um ... yeah, that was a tad awkward. I played it off by calling everyone dude the rest of the weekend. The preacher wasn't amused.

2) Speaking of awkward ... you'd think I'd already know not to do this, but obviously, I don't. The bride was walking around the reception trying to decide whether to close the bar or not. She came to our table and this was the convo:

Bride: "So, are you guys going to hang out here for awhile, or what?"
Me: "Yeah! There's free booze!"
Bride: [silent]
Rest of table: [awkwardly silent]
Me: [slugging down drink in order to get a fresh one before the bar closes]

The reason I should already know not to do that is it's the reason I've been banned from Bermuda. Someone tried to ease my pain and tell me that no white folks were allowed anymore, but I found out that's not true. Eh, great weather, beaches, an island getaway that's only a 2 hour flight away ... who needs Bermuda? Hmm.

There are a couple of bars here in (C)harm City that are advertising the experience of Miami! In Baltimore! Um. Yeah. The big attraction to Miami is (1) the women, (2) the weather, and (3) um ... the women? Ok, ok, the men as well, for those into that sort of thing. So, are the Baltimore bars flying the women in and bottling the weather and releasing it here? Right. Essentially, the "experience of Miami" means you get the same Baltimore people and places, but higher prices for drinks. Where do I sign up? Other similar ideas:

- the experience of Los Angeles ... in Kansas! Complete with complimentary boob jobs and liposuction.
- the experience of rural Georgia ... in Detroit! Complete with a complimentary noose and less teeth.
- the experience of Amsterdam ... at Amy Winehouse's joint! Cuz if there's one thing the Winer needs, it's more drugs, and easily obtainable ones at that.

Speaking of drinks, the bar at my gym starts again this Saturday. Yup, you read that right ... a bar ... at my gym. I've written about this before, but there are few things better than riding my bike to the gym on Sunday morning and dodging beer bottles, cigarette butts, and someone's lost cookies on the way in. I guess that's better than my previous gym. Rumor has it they shot porn movies in there after it closed. I believe the proper response to that is "ick" ... talk about needing a free health screening at your gym ...

One final tip. If you're attending an event for the SPCA ... an organization whose main objective is to get people to spay/neuter your pets ... don't bring your un-neutered dog to it.

A note to Jack FM ... I know you have a playlist of a zillion songs, and you pride yourself on that. But, I think the majority of your listening audience would be quite fine if they never heard "Walk The Dinosaur" again ... ever. Call me crazy. Boom boom acka lacka lacka boom, and all that.

Oh, and for the out of towners, no, I don't have my own radio station - it's the name of a local station. I'm still waiting for the checks for using my name.

My New Year's resolutions:

Stop having sex with Angelina Jolie. I don't care how much she begs. I'm done.

Win money in Vegas. The casino owners out there have been struggling lately - they haven't built a billion dollar hotel shaped like a pyramid in a few weeks - so I've been giving them money to help with their issues. Seems they are back on their feet now, so I'm going to start winning money again. Same goes for the lottery.

Continue to worship Pez. What's not to like?

So, I was checking out the menu at Cheesecake Factory the other day, and I stumbled over this hoot. They have salads, right? But, they also have these things called "Weight Management" salads, which are lower in calories than their regular salads. Same salads, just less calories. Um, isn't that the purpose of a salad in the first place? Less calories? What class did I miss in school here? I thought about ordering one, and ordering a Diet Diet Coke with it or some Low Calorie Water.

Naturally, it got me thinking - do they have non-Weight Management stuff, too? Like, do they have a slice of cheesecake, but you can chase it with a stick of butter if you go the non-Weight Management route?

There's a new machine at our gym. It's called the Ab Solo. Basically, you grab a ball, do a situp, toss it into the machine on the way back up, and it comes back out at the bottom so you can do it again. I have a better name for it: the "I'm So Lame I Can't Find A Friend To Throw Me A Friggin' Ball" ab thingy. Naturally, it's my favorite machine.

I've started watching The Girls Next Door now and then. You can stop laughing now. Hey, I can rationalize watching this with two words: huge boobs. Everywhere. The three girls who are the stars of the show are constantly tipping over from being so top heavy, and one of them tried to dive in the pool the other day, but she just bounced right back out.

It is somewhat entertaining, but I swear I can feel my IQ dropping while I'm watching it. I start breathing through my mouth, I get a bit dizzy, and I seriously start to wonder if Chicken of the Sea is tuna or chicken. I'm pretty sure it's tuna. I think.

Ok, what levers, buttons, and pulleys are the people in my head fiddling with that cause me to wake up this morning with a Fleetwood Mac song in my head? Seriously, I need some answers here. I feel like I should go get a CAT scan or something.

Let's start this off quickly ... new additions to the category of things you should never do:

- Send text messages while shaving. Seems like a no brainer, eh? Well, I've been accused of having no brain ... and I also have no left chin now. Bloody hell! What's the best way to get blood out of a cell phone?

- Ok, I have three cats. Is there any logical reason why I would trek to the bathroom in the dark without socks on after giving them catnip? Wait ... I forgot the kicker ... every time I give them catnip, someone hurls. I'm assuming it's a cat. Either that, or Lindsay Lohan is sneaking into my house after a binge. I think I just disturbed myself with my own thoughts.

Things I learned while on vacation in Myrtle Beach:

- If I have a couch, a huge TV, and the ocean right outside my window, I'm good to go without a word to say. Fuhgedaboudit.

- Amazing as this may sound, it's not a good idea to eat at a buffet restaurant that has a giant crab outside named Tommy who is wearing a sailor's hat. You'd think I would've known this already. Not so much. It's even better when the bill comes, and it's a good bit more than you expected it to be. Score!

- Cooking Thanksgiving dinner while drunk is great fun. So is watching football on TV with the ocean right outside the window. Did I mention that already?

- I'll pretty much eat anything pumpkin flavored. Insert your own joke there.

- My next house is going to have two kitchens. Oh, and the ocean right outside the window. I guess I should throw in a maid and a butler while I'm in dream mode. And lots of Pez.

- When in doubt, buy the big bottle of Captain Morgan's. The Handle.

- Rural South Carolina can be scenic and a tad scary at the same time. It's a fascinating ride. Kind of like a combination of a beautiful painting and the movie Deliverance. What a stunning view! You sho' got a purty mouth.

My monitor is on the fritz. It's about to blow, so to fix it, I punch it. I'm not kidding, and yes, I am that stupid. You didn't know that already. No more questions out of you! So, anyway, it actually works ... for now.

Dog breeds I'd like to see ...

A mastiff and a poodle ... a moodle!
A chihuahua and a pitbull ... you'd have a high strung little twerp of a dog that could kick some serious ass.

During the morning ritual at my house, the cats manage to work themselves into a complete frenzy when they realize it's breakfast time. Gotta say, it would be pretty cool if I got that excited about my meals:

ALL RIGHT! IT'S LUNCHTIME!!
[hiss at dude on the stairs]
GET OUT OF MY WAY, IT'S TIME TO EAT!!
[bump old lady out of the way in the line at the deli]

Then once I finished my lunch, I'd go over and start eating off of someone else's plate ... and make sure I lick it clean.

So, I'm showering this morning, and I generally like to brush my teeth while showering. Not to save time, mind you - it's more than I'm all about keeping my cleaning rituals to one big session so that I don't miss the reruns of the Dukes of Hazzard. Hmm, I guess that is to save time. Anyway, this morning, I tossed my toothbrush into the sink when I was done, and it popped out and landed right in the trash. If that isn't an omen, I don't know what is.

Your music recommendations for tonight (no, it's not Fleetwood Mac - you're a real comedian!):

"Missing" by Beck
"Once In Awhile" by Charlie Sexton
"Ballad of the Beaconsfield Miners" by the Foo Fighters

Seriously, we all know I have a huge man crush on Dave Grohl, and I know just enough about playing the guitar to ... well, since my simile/metaphor section is on vacation, let's just say I don't know that much ... but that's a great tune with some fantastic guitar playin'.

I'm at the gym watching one of the 10 TVs, and here's what I see on this one show:

- a tomato
- a cucumber or a pickle wearing a baseball cap (I'm leaning towards pickle, because it just makes me snicker to think about it)
- what may have been a stalk of celery with a mustache and a captain's hat (no, not a Captain Morgan's hat ... don't I wish!)
- an onion wearing a floppy hat

All, naturally, were talking vegetables ... with lids ... wait, except the tomato. For some reason, the tomato was sans hat. Lidless, as it were. They were also organizing some mass production of chocolate rabbits. I figure either it's some sort of weird show, or someone put heroin in my pop tarts. Since I live in Baltimore, either situation has equal probability.

I'm putzing around on Myspace the other day, and there's this woman who has a username of "******* Magnet." I'm using the asterisks because this is a family blog ... well, except when I'm talking about hooters or Kiana or Kiana's hooters, which is most of the time. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes. I'll give you a hint - that word starts with an A and rhymes with manhole. Hmm ... actually, it doesn't rhyme with manhole. It's probably pretty obvious by now that I missed my dose of Ritalin today, too.

So, I'm thinking ... let's say you're interested in this woman. You're pretty much screwed ... or not screwed, depending on your intentions. If you contact her ... well, I'm not sure about the properties of magnets, but I believe they attract things sometimes ... and she's the type that attracts things that almost rhyme with manhole. If you don't contact her, well, there ya go. Unscrewed. So, a fine choice of user names! Seriously, I'm not the only person that figures this stuff out, right?

My favorite bar, Portside, is turning 3 this weekend. If you really want to know how whack I am, consider this - last year, I was considering buying the bar a present for its birthday. You heard me. I was thinking maybe a nice picture for the wall, or something along those lines. I would've bought it a bottle of Captain Morgan's, but I was worried someone else might get the same thing, and how embarrassed would I have been then? In the end, I didn't do it ... probably because my tab at Portside was too high.

I'm going to clean out my basement next week. It should be a blast. Considering that I'm (1) pretty much afraid of spiders and (2) pretty much afraid of basements, it's going to be quite the thrill. Plus, I've got all of these "valuables" down there that I have to find a home for:

- a box full of VHS tapes. I mean, did the VCR go by the wayside in something like 2 weeks, or did I just fall asleep for a decade? I might have a hard time finding a buyer for "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey," which is highly underrated, by the by. "You have sank my battleship." Excellent! That's right, I just made the guitar riff noise/move just like Bill and Ted do.

- a box full of cassette tapes. Ok, I didn't sleep through that decade, but I still have 'em. As a bonus, I also have a box of "cassingles," which were about as popular as Richard Simmons at a Hell's Angels rally. If you don't know, cassingles were singles on cassette. It's also kind of wacky to just say cassingles. Try it. See? To give you an idea of my musical tastes of the time, I believe one of them is "Mercedes Boy" by Pebbles. Bam!

- Brian Bosworth's autobiography. 'Nuff said. And, yes, I read it. And, yes, I felt dumber after reading it. Thanks for playing, Bri!

- a poster of Sting (uh ... ok).

- a dining room chair ... not a set, mind you, just one chair. Before you ask, I haven't the slightest idea how I managed to have just one chair. I'm telling you, being me is an acquired skill.

I'm sure I'll have more to add to this list after the deed is done ... if I don't get kidnapped by spiders.

The new cat has a blistering case of "I Have To Be In The Next Room NOW" syndrome. Cat owners right now are nodding their heads and doing their impression of the Kool Aid man - oh yeah! 'Course, they're also picking cat hair out of their sandwich while nodding. Anyway, I believe the proper vet/medical term for this is What The Frick Syndrome or WTFS. It has to be, because that's my reaction when it happens. I also imagine her sprinting because she's late to a cat meeting:

Tiz: Sorry I'm late
Batman: No prob. Now, to business. Human Dude has been sleeping past our feeding time on certain days. This must be rectified.
Robin: I thought there was going to be food at this meeting? [note from me ... Robin's a tad chubby]
Tiz: Well, we've been waking him up at 6 am every ... hang on a sec ... ack ack ... [hurls on bed] ... sorry ... hairball [the others nod approvingly and admire the skill of doing it on the bed] ... um, every morning, isn't that enough?
Robin: Is that a kibble under your paw?
Batman: Not good enough. I propose a screeching fight at the corner of the bed around 7 every day until the feeding schedule is back on track.
Tiz: Done and done.
Robin: Did someone say feeding schedule?