Gramma loved the iPhone. You see, when she was growing up everyone was poor. Everytime I spend money on something she sees it as a luxury. A lower middle class chip on her shoulder. Maybe this is an important thing for me to learn from. Nevertheless, I showed her some things and she flipped, she was so excited. We had a tech bonding moment you could say. I wish there was a LifeAlert app so I could keep track of her while on the move. I care about my Gramma. You only have one mother, you know.

It's a common harmless little joke among straight men that all women are crazy. It's just a matter of degree of nuttiness, and when you will learn first hand. But check THIS out:



I like to say "It speaks for itself" but this clearly doesn't. Poor goldfish, they never had a chance. I've never made someone so mad they ate their pets, thank God. Actually I should be more thankful I've never had a girlfriend so insane they would actually eat a pet fish.

It's been well over a month. I just want all you lovelies I love you all. And that is all.

I'd like to think of myself as a pretty decent, even tempered guy. When someone shits on the Beatles I tend to not be so nice. I was in a frustrating argument on Facebook with a guy who shit on the Beatles left and right. Talking about lack of music theory, and how easy it is to play.

Then I find out he plays.....Death Metal. I don't really feel the need to defend the Beatles anymore after learning that. Talk about a fucking black hole in music.

JBL

Some of you may have wondered what it's like to have a martini poured on your crotch. Maybe not. I'll tell you anyway, it feels quite cold on the nadgers. This happened to me tonight at Cecelia's.

Since I now have worn a Metropolitan, I've experienced it with almost all of my senses. How I wish I could hear a Metro. This wasn't an embarrassing episode, but a bump in my status as a boozer, right?

Of course, the waitress was mortified, and by some miracle I didn't feel one sliver of anger. She gave me a wet towel and I cleaned up really well. You couldn't tell at all that I got a whole drink dumped on me.

But when the check came, did I get any sort of break? Hell no!

Poor form, Cecelia's. Poor form.

I didn't want to cause a scene in front of my guest, and somehow I still didn't feel any anger, so I just let it go. Maybe this is karmic retribution for that whole Fat Bob's thing.