The Bar Code

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "A barcode is an optical machine-readable representation of data relating to the object to which it is attached. Originally, barcodes systematically represented data by varying the widths and spacings of parallel lines, and may be referred to as linear or one-dimensional." Did you just memorize the first part of the Wikipedia article on barcodes? How do you know that? Anyway, yes, that's true, but the bar code that I'm referring to is more of a code of conduct to be adhered to at the bar. Let me stress that the list I'm about to give you is not complete because I blacked out before I could finish it. Just kidding! It's not complete because I don't have enough experience in bars (because I always black out). Maybe I can finish it later. In other words, when I know more, you'll know more. Let's begin!

1. Always improvise! The answer is always "Yes, And" when talking to a girl. "What? You're studying communications? Me too! What a coincidence!" And then see how far that can take you. Hopefully, it takes you all the way. 

3. Slap a $20 down at the bar when you arrive. This way, the bartender will recognize you every time you come up and you never have to tip again. It's a win-win.

4. Don't pregame! Alcohol has a tendency to make you pee. It's a natural diuretic. Personally, I don't think men should be allowed to pee when drunk. There should be some physiological shutoff. I mean, we miss the toilet when we're sober, for crying out loud! When we're drunk, it's like giving a fire hose to an arsonist. We're going to spray it everywhere but where it needs to go. And we're going to take pleasure in it.

7. Green Apple Smirnoff + Apple Cider = GOOD

8. Don't get a shot as your first drink! Get something that you can nurse awhile. It will work out better in the long run. 

9. You can never go wrong with a solid beer. I'd recommend a Yeungling or a Victory.

14. 4 tequila shots is too many. The saying goes "1 tequila, 2 tequila, 3 tequila, floor!" But more appropriately, it should be "1 tequila, 2 tequila, 3 tequila, toilet!" 

20. Never friend a girl on Facebook whom you are sleeping with. Don't DTR it! That's define the relationship. Ambiguity is your friend. 

I will finish this list at some point, don't worry. I'm still learning and growing. Here's to 2015! Cheers!

I've Got a Rat Problem

Hi. How are you feeling? Did New Year's Day hit you as hard as it hit me? Well, we are different people. Now, it's time to tackle those New Year's Resolutions. And you know what "resolutions" stands for, right? Realizing Every Single Odd List Unit To Impel Our Non-essential Spirits. It's confusing, I know, but what I intended it to mean is that we are trying to accomplish every single stupid goal on a list. The number one goal on your list is probably (drum roll please)... to go to the gym more. 

Was I right? Let's pretend that I was. I've encountered this first-hand in my house. I've got a rat problem, let's say. These rats are bigger than field mice, but smaller than New York subway rats. (To be fair, I call homeless people rats.) Anyway, the rats I'm talking about are my parents. They aren't actual rats, or else we would have to keep more cheese in the refrigerator. They are more like gym rats, or, at least, they talk like some.

Personally, I think that just getting to the gym is a workout. I mean, you have to plan to go to the gym or you won't get there. It takes real motivation. Just pulling up in your car is enough. This is how it goes. You get there and say "I thought I left with enough time, but there was so much traffic. I nearly hit a kid on my way over here. Maybe I shouldn't have sped through that school zone. Oh well. Man oh man. Shit, it's five thirty. I better get out of here, I'm exhausted. Oh look! A Starbucks. I'd say I've earned that after what I just went through." Or you could do what I do which is to let your metabolism shape your body. Every time I look in the mirror I think "Hey, I really put the "ab" in metabolism, don't I?" 

So, if your resolution is to work out more, make sure your schedule is actually working out. Pun intended. Happy New Year!

Happy New Year 2014, er, I Mean 2015! (Sorry for the typo!)

Phew! We've made it. I didn't think that it would happen, what with the Ebola scares, the missing planes, and the civil unrest that has plagued our country because people don't know how to get along with each other and agree that Taylor Swift is amazing. But yet, here we are. Anything is possible! #blessed

How was Christmas? I, once again, did not get what I ask for every year: a Red Ryder Carbine Action 200-shot Range Model air rifle. Is anyone else having this problem? Is it because I'm Jewish? #notblessed 

Thursday is the beginning of the new year. We can close the book on 2014, and then quickly open it back up again, turn to the next page, and write 2015 because there are still like twenty pages left in this notebook and I don't want to buy a new one. I'll just write a lot smaller. Yeah, that'll work. #killersavings

I've done most of what I set out to do this year. I graduated from college, found a temp job in a line of work that has nothing to do with my degree, and listened to all of Serial. I am most proud of finishing Serial. #savingkillers

I'm excited to be moving into 2015. A new year always promises to be so much better than the one before it. Let's see if this one keeps it's promise. Have a wonderful new year!

Oh Hanukkah, Oh... Hanukkah?

Well, guys, this is it. We are right in the thick of things. It's night 7 of Hanukkah, followed by day 7 tomorrow. We are neck and neck Christmas this year instead of neck and neck with Thanksgiving, like last year. That was rough. This year is more normal, typical. Night seven means that the menorah and the surrounding kitchen counter look like a mini Maccabean battle was fought there. There are burn marks scattered around, with the bodies of wooden matches laid to rest in shallow, waxy graves. How many matches must die? Candles I understand. 44 will vanish in total. But matches? And we are using the good ones, from Morton's. The horror!! The horror!! 

But aside from all of that devastation, Hanukkah has been going great. Good presents, good food, and good company. Yes, this year, Jewish Christmas is one of the bests. I think that our stereotypical tradition of going to the movies on Christmas Eve and getting Chinese food on Christmas will be upheld with as much fervor as a New Year's Resolution gym goers' plans to work out. And by that, I mean we will definitely do it once. 

If you haven't figured out that I don't have anything to say this week, you must be a new reader. Welcome!!! I didn't know I had any family left who hadn't starting reading this. You must be from my mom's side. Merry Holidays!! Happy Christmas!! (Happy/Merry?) Kwanzaa!! and last but not least, Happy Hanukkah. 

A Triple Feature

Well, folks, it's that time of year again. No, I'm not talking about the time of the year when Philadelphia fans realize that the Eagles aren't going to win this season, I'm talking about the time of the year when I review the movies currently blowing up the box office. Let me put a disclaimer on this first. I've not seen every movie. I haven't even seen Mockingjay yet. But I have seen some movies. And the ones that I saw were interesting. So, with that, welcome to my 1st Annual 2nd Week of December Movie Review. I've seen three movies in the past week, and now I have opinions. 

The first movie that I saw was Undercover Bosses 2... Wait! Scratch that! I'm being informed that the title is in fact Horrible Bosses 2. Sorry, I get them mixed up because both of them put me to sleep. (Ba dum tisss!) I mean, the word horrible is in the title. What did you expect? It was alright, if you like watching bumbling idiots try to get something done. You know, like a modern Three Stooges, or... the government, I don't know. It has all of the characters from the first one, but just isn't that novel idea that the first one was. So in other words, it's a sequel. Two out of four stars, because I laughed and love the actors, but thought that the first one was better.

The second movie that I saw was Interstellar. When I wasn't bawling my eyes out like a baby at the incredibly sad story line, I was confused as to what was going on. The ending sums it up really well, or as well as any Christopher Nolan ending sums up a movie, which is not at all. Overall, I enjoyed it because the acting was great and the graphics were amazing. Four out of four stars, even though I left the theater confused and wet. Also, cried a lot and couldn't follow the plot.

The third and final film that I saw was Top Five. At first, I thought I was watching Chris Rock read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. They said the N-word more times than Django Unchained. The almost entirely African American audience that was watching the movie with me seemed to really enjoy it, so I didn't mind. I mean, it's Chris Rock. He and Kevin Hart, who by the way, is in every movie coming out this holiday season, actually comment on their use of the N-word in one of the funnier scenes of the movie. They threw in a love story akin to Cinderella, so I'm predicting that it becomes the date movie of the season. Plus, it's made up entirely of comedians, which almost makes me wet myself more than Interstellar. Overall, three out of four stars, only because they didn't invite me to be in the movie. 

So there you have it. The reviews are in. Go see the movies and form your own opinions. Happy watching!!! 

So Long And Thanks For All The Fish

I come bearing bad news. This past weekend, our goldfish died. Her name was Goldy. I'm not sure how we knew it was a "she," but we knew. This isn't something you would necessarily give a hoot about, except for the fact that she's was 10.5 years old. That's right. 10.5 years old. My family really knows how to keep a fish alive. It's their only superpower. I got the brains; they got the fish-keeping-alive power. (There's a better way to say this, but it escapes me right now.)

Now, I never payed much attention to this fish as I went about my daily routine. I would walk by occasionally, and say "Wow, you've gotten big over the years." (To be fair, I say the same thing to myself whenever I walk by a mirror naked.) This fish has always been a staple in the kitchen. It was always there. I fed it while my parents went away. I never changed the water in it's bowl, however. That was outside of my juris"fish"tion. Ha. Haha. Hahaha. 

It was very sad to see the beloved fish that we won at a Purim carnival more than 10 years ago pass away. It had almost outgrown it's bowl. That thing was meant to be swimming in a river, not a fishbowl. I always felt that we were mocking it whenever we had fish for dinner. Such a tease.

But alas, it's gone. It's swimming with the fishes, as the saying goes. It's moved on up to that big fishbowl in the sky. I don't think we'll get a new one. I'm not sure that we're ready for another 10 year commitment. Instead, I gave it a 21 flush salute. I'm happier this way. If it was any different, things would seem fishy. (I was unsure of how I would work this pun in, but I'm a genius, as usual, so there ya go.) Godspeed, Goldy, Godspeed.

Killing IT

How are you? Are you doing alright after the madness that was Thursday through today? I woke up feeling like a Dallas Cowboys fan: broke, both spiritually and financially. 

But then I remembered, I do have a job. Have I told you about it? I have to be vague because it's apparently classified, but let's just say that I'm doing IT work for one company, working under a different company, and employed by yet another company. A triple threat! It's basically me running around and farting in almost every room of an office building.

I have what's called a temp job, or a job for people who need money, but don't want all of the security that comes along with having a real job. I'm actually enjoying it a lot. Now, I know what you're asking and saying. "Charlie, what do you know about IT support? You got an F on your programming final. You failed the easiest class in school, the one that introduced you to the way that your college handled it's network and computer labs, and had to retake it the next semester. You studied civil engineering, for Christ's sake." Hey, I studied civil engineering for my sake! And I'm very insecure about that other stuff. I'm sad now that you brought it up. That was uncalled for.

Now, as we all know, I'm a genius and good at everything, so naturally I'm killing it right now. Everybody loves me. I'm like the Raymond of IT employees. And my brother is the Brad. It's nice. I don't even mind working from 1 P.M. to 11 P.M. There's no traffic during either of my commutes. It's the best.

And on a day like today, Cyber Monday, I'm right in my element. I got money to spend and knowledge about computers. Watch out world! Here I come! It's finally all clicking into place. (Get it? Hahahahahaha!!!)

TGIF - Thank God It's Food

Thank God that it's Thanksgiving again, although God had nothing to do with it. It's really our perception of time that brought Thanksgiving here, yet again. (For more information on how to perceive time, please contact Jaden and Willow Smith. They are experts on the subject of timelines, space, and saying dumb stuff on Twitter.) The point is that Thanksgiving is here, and with it, comes the holiday season. Radio stations have switched to Christmas music. TV channels have switched to Christmas movies. I've switched to my Christmas underwear. (For those who don't know, that is the pair of underwear that I wear from Thanksgiving Day until Christmas Eve, then take off and stuff up the chimney so that Santa doesn't come to my house. Works every time. Twenty two years and counting.) Everything has changed for the better.

You know, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I just love all of the food and things that go on. I couldn't care less about that Pilgrim business. If you can't stand the heat, get out of New England. Plymouth Rocks! Listen, Thanksgiving is a special time for family, friends, and arguments with your relatives over which level of Candy Crush is the hardest. That's what it's about. People talking turkey and eating football. Or vice versa. 

I am always thankful for everything in my life that is going great, so in other words, nothing. (Ba dum tiss!! That's a joke, people. Don't institutionalize me.) Remember what you are thankful for and have a wonderful Thanksgiving. A great turkey once said, "Gobble gobble bock bock!" and really offended a large group of people. You can't say that they all look alike. That turkey was then murdered in an oven. He never tasted better. 

Cynicism

Now, I know what you're going to say. "Mr. Charlie, how are you going to make cynicism funny? This is going to be awful." Please, call me Charlie. The Mr. Is an optional prefix. Secondly, don't be so cynical. Just because spell check has corrected almost every one of my attempts to spell cinycal, doesn't mean that this post will be bad. Also, I'll try not to ramble.

Now, I'll be the first one to admit that I am cynical sometimes. I suffer from cynicism, which at first I thought was the disease that lets you hear colors. Turns out that's called synesthesia. Cynicism is when you can hear and see the darkness. It's actually become my defense mechanism for disappointment. You see, when you expect the worst, the outcome is either what you expected or better than what you expected. It's foolfproof. 

Why am I telling you about this now? Well, I saw the word yesterday in a book I was reading and asked "Is this anything? Can I write about this? I don't have an idea yet for the week. Will this work?" I was expecting it to not turn out that good (Cynicism!), but so far, it's not half bad. (Foolproof!) I'm going to go with it and see what happens. Life's funny that way and so am I. I've already written stuff about pessimism, I think, so this is just the root of that idea. 

Look at that. I accidentally started to ramble towards the end. Goddammit!! I can't do anything right. This is all going to Hell in a hand basket. Come on, Charlie. This isn't working. I'm sorry. I'll be back next week with more of the same. Ugh. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

You Can't Find Me in Da Club

I did something Saturday night that goes against everything that I'm used to; I went to Atlantic City without my mom and grandmother. Don't worry, I stayed at the same hotel and ate at the same restaurants that we usually do. I'm not an animal. I was there with my brother and his friends for a "guys' night out on the town." So where do you expect to find a bunch of single twenty somethings in A.C.? The answer is not the penny slots, as I rudely found out. The answer is a nightclub.

Now, if you're me, you feel socially awkward in a nightclub... or any other place people are, for that matter. But try convincing a bunch of EDM crazed young men that pumping a progressive Wheel of Fortune machine full of money is more fun than pumping their fists to the first part of every popular song mashed together. You'd have more luck trying to win big at Blackjack. And similar to a casino, the 3lau haus always wins. So, when in Rome, go to Caesars.

There was no cover charge to get into the club. If you are unfamiliar, a cover charge is something that bars and clubs charge to enter in case you don't drink, there is live music, or just because they can. It's basically a bar tax. Taxation without inebriation! Anyway, we walked in past the bouncers, had our I.D.s checked, and entered the gates of Hell. 

Hell looked different than I originally pictured. I had only seen artists' renderings and movies. Hell is actually a place full of flashing strobe lights and bass so loud that I couldn't hear myself think, a true and fitting punishment if there ever was one. Now, as you know, I'm usually all about that bass, 'Bout that bass, no treble. Except not down there. Not in the belly of the Inferno, or Dusk, whatever the club was named.

That's when we ran into Lucifer. He was laying down the sickest beats, despite the fact that all of the songs were doctored. I felt myself saying "This is very impressive." Nobody heard me because the base was so loud, but it's whatever. 

At this point, I was having no fun at all. It's just not my scene. I don't get the appeal of five guys standing in a circle with drinks while sound makes it hard to breathe. And does a girl really want a guy with a raging boner grinding behind her? No, I don't think so. I danced a little, if you can call what I did dancing. But I'm too shy to ask girl to dance and too devastatingly handsome and intimidating for one to ask me. There's a catch 22 for ya. 

My brother and his friends looked like they were having a good time, from what I saw in between the strobe light flashes. They looked happy. But me, I was looking for any excuse to leave. It was 2 A.M. and I was about to fake a seizure when I saw my brother's friend motion that he wanted to leave. I yelled "Really? Ok!" and bolted up the steps into a fully operational casino, a rarity in Atlantic City. I sat down at a slot machine, turned three dollars into thirteen, and then lost all of that. My brother's friends eventually found me, and we left exhausted. If I didn't know any better, I would say that that's how you do AC.

(But I do know better, and it's most certainly not, so don't judge me. A dance club isn't my scene. My scene is a comedy club.)