Getting through a wine conversation

If you're like every slightly-better-off-than-broke American adult, you have at least a couple friends who are self-professed wine fanatics. You go to a bar and order a beer. They one-up your ass by ordering a glass of wine. At dinner, you ask if there's a full bar. They pretentiously ask for a wine list. You bring a bottle of Scotch to a party. They bring an obscure bottle of I've-never-heard-of-that-shit-ever, wrapped in like shimmery pink cellophane.

Clearly, you see how I feel about wine. But that doesn't change the fact that, every so often, even I get sucked into an unwanted conversation about it. Hell, I don't even have to be a part of the conversation; sometimes I just have two douchebag friends who'll put on a whole show and waste a good ten minutes out of dinner... The thing about wine drinkers is that as much as they loved being seen in a positive light based on their supposed love for a "classy" drink, they love to judge you for enjoying your Heineken with your burger. But fear not, as your favorite Dude has got you covered...

Every wine drinker worth his salt has some bullshit story about "that one bottle of wine" they had on some gay winery tour back when they disappeared for a few months and then suddenly reemerged acting like hot shit. That particular wine was made from grapes picked from The Garden of Eden, hand-pressed by angels, and taught them the meaning of life (also, love, the universe, peace & war, the economy, the Middle East, etc). In fact, it's so fucking amazing that, oh right, it's way too ultra rare for you to ever find again. When engaging a friend/colleague in a conversation about wine, be ready for this story, because it starts right when the first few rounds of drinks starts kicking in. Make sure you have an even better story to tell. Pick an arbitrary year when the wine was bottled, pick a random location where this winery is located, and then make up a bullshit name for the wine. It also helps to describe the amazing company you were with - just make sure it can't be verified. Instead of describing an imaginary trip with a real-life mutual friend, say you were traveling with a gorgeous European that you met one day while scuba diving (yes, you scuba dive). The beauty is that nobody ever knows what anybody else is talking about when it comes to wine. The point of the conversation is to make up the most surreal and rare-sounding bullshit you possibly can. It helps to develop some further back-story about how you're always searching for that one bottle of wine, but can never find it. That way, you've established that nobody can technically prove you're lying, and you also seem like an ultra-cool prick who does pretentious shit like sit around browsing a thousand bottles of wine every time you stop to pick up Altoids at Whole Foods.

Again, the great part about these conversations is that nobody can really prove you wrong. Having a conversation about wine is having a who-can-make-up-the-most-arbitrary-bullshit contest. Don't worry about names, just make them up as you go along; if you're stuck, make up a word in your head, then pronounce in like a really weird accent. Lie like your life depends on it. Don't let your conscience or morals get to you. Remember: the other guy's doing it too.

The Good vs Bad Porn

Leo: I just noticed I have 1.5TB of disk space completely full.
Me: I'm working with... 60GB. Haha.
Leo: Good. You need to get more porn.
Me: Online. Downloaded porn doesn't do it for me. Not adventurous enough.
Leo: Low quality flash video makes you feel like you're doing something wrong/in secret.

What kind of cum?

Talking about eating like a man (me) vs. eating like an animal.

Me: I'm kind of a simpleton when it comes to food. At least I'm not a dirty savage like you.
Heather: I like to try new things. I thought that was a good thing. I love all kinds of food.
Me: Snails are not food. Thanks.
Heather: Yeah they are. If they're edible, they're food.
Me: Cum is edible. Would you drink a bowl of cum?
Heather: What kind of cum?

Big (Little) Asian Man

Conversation w/ my Asian buddy, weighing in at barely over a hundred pounds.

Me: I just fucking stay home. Friday, Saturday nights too. All I do is study.
Marvin: For what?
Me: For CFA, Level II. If I pass, shouldn't be too hard to break six figures.
Marvin: Nice nice...
Me: And then I'll find me the boy of my dreams. He'll look like you, but have like a really HUGE dick.
Marvin: So EXACTLY like me then?

Ghetto Neighbors

I live in what's commonly referred to as "the ghetto". This means that I have ghetto neighbors.

Last night, I went to go do my laundry in the shared facility inside our complex. When it came time to throw the clothes in the dryer, the true ghettoness of one particular neighbor came out. When I got into the room, she was washing a pink shirt in one of those big sinks they have in laundry rooms. We greeted each other, I put my clothes in the dryer, and went back to my unit.

Now, being that I'm obnoxiously early for everything, I went to go retrieve my clothes just a little early. Instead of going back to my unit, I decided to just chill and wait there. Within a couple minutes, the "IN USE" light turned off, and the dryer began winding down. I opened it up and began retrieving my clothes, and I find... her fucking pink shirt and one of those hair tie things (scrunchy?)! How cheap is that? This stupid bitch decided to freeload her ugly t-shirt with my dryer load! The best part is, as I was walking out (taking her shit with me), she was walking in, and she gave me the classic deer-in-headlights look as I walked away smiling. At least she had the decency not to stop me and mention that she tried to steal my dryer time.

My shirt and scrunchy(?) now, bitch. Now to figure out what I'm going to do with a pink lady's shirt and a hair tie.

It's not delivery, it's GoFuckYourself

Lately, I've been either not eating or getting fast food when I can't bear the hunger.

Today, I decided to bake myself a nice DiGiorno pizza. When I got home from the supermarket, I realized a couple things that I hate about it. First, it takes a full half hour to bake (seriously? I can get a $5 pizza from Domino's in half the time). Second, this (click on the image to view full-size):

Not pictured: Me sobbing uncontrollably.

Yeah, apparently it was necessary for DiGiorino remind me that: a) I'm alone and b) I eat like a fat fuck.

Fuck you, DiGiorno.

Quarter-life crisis

Unless, through some miracle in science, I live to be over a hundred years old, I'm already well beyond the quarter-point in my life. That would mean I've lived long enough to earn my right to a twice-in-a-lifetime personal "crisis"... and you can believe I'm exercising that right. Lately, all I can think about is adventure. Yeah, the same word that gets a six-year-old into all kinds of mischievous trouble. I've come to a point where my life lacks that crucial bit of "something else" that keeps me interested in what's in store for me every day. I actually use the snooze button now. I wake up later. I shave less. I don't care that I'm forming a bit of a gut. Frankly, I don't quite give a shit.

The beauty of having these pivotal "crisis" moments in life is that they give you an excuse to do some incredibly stupid shit. Like getting tattoos, leaving your family to live with a bunch of animals on a farm, shaving your head, quitting your job, picking up smoking... all kinds of shit you never really had the balls to do before. For me, that's getting a motorcycle. Keep in mind that I'm a maniac on the roads as it is. I'm the idiot who has to be first when the light turns green on a freeway on-ramp. I'm the idiot who refuses to let people cut in front of me when I'm about to exit a freeway. I'm the idiot who'll honk and yell at any poor fool who happens to be going slower than me in the fast lane. And in a few months, I'll be the idiot who ends up on the side of the road with his lower torso a few hundred feet beyond that. And, you guessed it, I'm the idiot who doesn't care.

Even so much as a year ago, I had this fear of death... That self-preserving instinct was able to talk me out of stupid shit like riding motorcycles. Now? The pain of a crash would be a welcome reminder that I'm still alive. I must clarify that I'm most definitely not suicidal. I'm not ready to die, and I think too damn highly of myself to wish for it. No, certainly not suicidal. For lack of a better word, I'm bitter. I see too many people, who lack the slightest inkling of talent, in a better place in life than I am, only because they were in the right place at the right fucking time. Yeah, this is where I pout like a little kid and say it's not fucking fair. I've worked too fucking hard and struggled too goddamn much to still be dreaming about the red Dodge Viper I fell in love with as a kid. I've done too damn much to still be taking orders from a corporation that shows me absolutely no loyalty and favor in return. Yeah, I'm high on myself - but that doesn't make any of it untrue.

I'm tired of a lot of things. I'm tired of people so much as trying to start conversation with me. I'm tired of people trying to tell me how I should and shouldn't be. I'm tired of people brilliantly pointing out my obvious shortcomings. I guess I'm sick of people. Period. At the end of the day, I'd rather be alone with my music than out with my friends. Is that depressing? I suppose that means I'm depressed. For what it's worth, I need a change of pace. I need a new career, I need a new lifestyle, I need to get out of this filthy hovel they call Los Angeles. If only I had the means to get up and leave. At this point, I figure, hell... why not?

... 50's not far off. Maybe then.

Pre-existing Conditions

A term becoming increasingly commonplace is "pre-existing condition". In the healthcare realm, this refers to a health problem that a person has prior to signing up for private healthcare insurance.

More and more, you see articles describing horror stories that people have with regards to their insurance companies and their pre-existing conditions. Sure, they definitely make you feel bad for these people, but to paint insurance companies in a bad light because of that is a fucking cheap shot. These private companies' business models depend on the very basic idea of taking on the risks associated with peoples' healthcare and appropriately pricing their coverage to mitigate that risk. If you're sick and try to trick an insurance company into footing your costly bills, and then they refuse to help you out when they figure this all out, who's to blame?

How can the Obama and the public at large demand that health insurance providers provide the same coverage regardless of pre-existing conditions? That's like saying you can drive without insurance, crash your car, then call up GEICO and tell them you're going to pay a $200 monthly bill and that you'd like your $50,000 car repaired immediately. That's like being forced to accept a bet on the losing team after the game has ended. Sure, it sucks for the uninsured, but does it really make sense to call the insurance companies bad people for not covering people who are already sick? The government should spend less money on fucking retarded programs like Cars for Clunkers, and use that money to help the few people who are in genuinely messed up situations that cannot be helped otherwise.

Now, I do think it's shitty that you hear about companies dropping insurance coverage instead of covering bills for customers who grow ill after successfully signing up for insurance coverage. In those cases, sure, it's messed up that these companies refuse to man up to the loss they took on that particular bet. But for the most part, there's too much fucking bullshit bitching and moaning about companies simply going about business the way business has been done for centuries before.

Fuck all these tear-jerker stories about sick people being "screwed over" by insurance companies. They should have started off paying the few bucks a day it costs to have insurance coverage to begin with. It's really their own damn fault that they're sick and assed out.

Movies (in as few words as possible)

I recently signed up for Netflix, and started watching a bunch of random movies via the instant-watching feature. Here are some summaries of random movies I've watched in the past couple weeks (they're not necessarily recent releases, just ones I never got around to watching).

Phenomenon
John Travolta smiles too much, gets random superpowers, has a really awkward "romance" scene, turns out to not nearly be as cool as first thought.

Underworld: Rise of the Lycans
Same as the other Underworld movies. Fake Kate Beckinsale. Still kind of hot.

Paul Blart: Mall Cop
As disappointing as my gut told me it would be. How is it that people were saying,"It's actually not that bad..."?

Seven Pounds
Will Smith stalks a bunch of people creepily. Turns out to be helping them all at his own expense.

Defiance
A bunch of Jews hide from Nazis in a forest. Some really horrible acting ensues. The big brother from X-Men Origins: Wolverine is there, also is impossible to take seriously. Nothing gets resolved in the movie.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Jim Carrey, Elijah Wood, Kate Winslet, Kirsten Dunst... All-star cast of actors I fucking hate. Never had a chance.

The Wrestler
Not nearly as cool as everybody made it seem. Pimple-faced white boys would love it.

Gratuity

When you eat a restaurant, it's easy to overlook the fact that the server running around with your food is working pretty damn hard to ensure you have an enjoyable eating experience. They seem a little rushed? It's probably because they are. Are they being a little rude? Maybe they had a really bad customer give them a hard time just before they got to your table. They forget an item on your order? People make mistakes, and the world seems to go on just fine.

There's nothing more annoying than a stingy tipper. Believe me, many people around me are really tight with their tip. They justify it with excuse after excuse, but it really is just that they're cheap. Let's say you pick up a tab for two that came out to a reasonable $40 after tax. I personally would leave, at a minimum, $50 total. It's a healthy 25% tip, it makes the server immensely happier, and I leave with the satisfaction of knowing that they will remember me when I return (and that the favor will be returned to me). Too many people would sit there, calculate out the 15%, and leave that $6 instead. Better yet, they'll round down to $45. Aside from making you look like the cheapest motherfucker to walk into the restaurant that night, you really only save $4-5. Is it really worth it? If you can't afford to throw in a few more dollars on top of your meal, why not stick to Burger King the next time you feel like going out?

I'll gladly leave a 30%, 40%, even 50% tip on a meal, especially if it's a quick bite for just myself. For that small premium, I get to walk out feeling good, not embarrassed and eager to get away ASAP. I also get to return and be greeted by a server who remembers me, not pray and hope she isn't working at the time.

Take it from a guy who worked at a restaurant for three years in college: 15% is the absolute bare minimum you should ever leave at a restaurant. 20% is not "excessive", it's standard. Leave a bad tip, and the servers will remember you, and you will be treated worse when you return. Really, the savings isn't worth it. Don't be fucking cheap.