Generation Y Should I Give A Fuck?

Before I go off on this bastardization of the English language, please let me preface. For those of you lucky enough to not be intimately familiar with “Generation Y,” Webster’s Dictionary defines it as:

Generation Y n. The generation following Generation X, especially people born in the United States and Canada from the early 1980s to the late 1990s. [Modeled on Generation X.]

Generation X was just a cool, somewhat mysterious way to name the post baby boomer era, the post “Father Knows Best” mentality. So I was born post Gen-X, during Reganomics, Wall Street yuppies, big hair metal days when Phil Collins ruled the world and a young Metallica was looking to destroy world as we knew it (you know before technology confused and scared them). A guy like He-Man kicked ass, Frankie said relax, Rocky IV ended the Cold War, early cell phone and video game technology was upon us and we weren’t having clip shows talking about this stuff, we were damn well living it. To me, the 1980s just plain rocked. I was too young to understand or concern myself with Regan’s politics. I didn’t care. I was growing up in an interesting time, discovering new technologies, contently laughing at cliché cartoons and sitcoms of the era. All right, AIDS and crack cocaine may have been a product of the time but I was too little to engage in hardcore drugs and sexual relations (would have been a really interesting first 7 years of my life though). Anyway all good chapters must come to an end and someone with a bullshit job just had to label our generation. Post Gen-X, how about Generation Y? Creative? Hardly. Bullshit? Indubitably.

My overall contempt of this term has come from my professional life (which I will not indulge any further in case Jon Drama and the man behind the keyboard get ousted). People nearly twice my age are telling me the “millennials” (another ricockulous term for Gen-Y) are the waaaave of the future and that I should be reading blogs to understand what my professional peers are up to. They tell me that I should be blogging (which I have been doing long before co-workers told me of the “fad”). I do this for fun and when I am old, married and slipping into senility, I can look back and see my thoughts of varying subjects and have a laugh and remind myself that I was once a witty, charming young man. Why would I want to talk about whatever I want, when I could find 5,000 different ways to talk about what Generation Y will do to “change the world.” As I said before, the people telling me to grasp these changes are twice my age, withered old dreamers of a bygone era and just don’t have a clue.

Sometimes my peers send me blogs to make me think about the changes this crazy world is undergoing. One of my co-workers knows my true feelings on Generation Y and sends me blogs to get me fired up so I can send a witty retort. Unsurprisingly, it works every time. My latest response was to a blog about Mobile Marketing And Generation Y. The bottom line is that our generation is annoyed with text message advertisements. I will not post “their” blog for sake of not creating a hassle, but here was my response:

“I actually just read this blog (I tend to have more free time up here) and it is utterly horrible. 514 words to simply say: Text advertisements aren’t effective. Period. It’s not a generational issue either. That’s another crock of shit. That is simply *****’s attempt to market and brand themselves (which has worked to a degree I guess). By doing this, aging people who think they are “up with the change” (here’s a hint his name rhymes with Crack) think they stumbled onto something revolutionary. Text message advertisements don’t work. Big shit. I think if my 90 year old grandma (bless her heart) had a cell phone, she would agree text messages selling a product suck balls. I think if I start a blog stating the painfully obvious, maybe I will get some unjustifiable respect. Here’s one:

Shitty Days Ahead: Why Generation Y Will Not Stand For 1-Ply Toilet Paper

Great! Throw it on Twitter. Twitter my balls I say. Twitter them indeed.”

For those of you unaware of what Twitter is, it is simply another social networking application that pretty much seems to function the same as Facebook’s status update. Fucking pointless. The more technology I have the more update to date I will be. Everyone’s status is awful too; for once I would just like to leave “Jon Drama is masturbating furiously before his date so he doesn’t blow a unctuous load on the off-chance the girl touches his dangle before night’s end.” Back to Generation Y, the blogs on the matter are obvious and redundant. Plus as much as it’s cool see know that my peers are “taking a stand” and attempting to carve out a niche for our era, where does all of this “advice” come from? Google, their parents, college professor, a “really neat” NPR podcast or just out of plain air? Its just plain subjective thinking at its finest marketed as key tips, “facts”, and various countdown lists that us youngens need to survive in today’s workplace. Who needs a book when you can just curl up with your laptop? Ugh, I love technology, but I still prefer a real book, a good newspaper and a phone conversation not inundated with text messages to get my point across. Since these Gen-Y blogs are so subjective, here is a top 10 list (!) of attention-grabbing, Gen-Y blog topics equally asinine:

1. Double Sided Dildos - The Future of Peer 2 Peer Networking…Today!
2. Today’s Pain In The Ass: Why Millennials Will Change Conventional Thinking About Anal Sex
3. Top Four Ways To Hide An Erection In The Office & Still Show How Horny You Are
4. Entrepreneur Or Korean Sex Trafficker? Does It Matter?
5. Why Swamp-ass Will Give You The Edge At The Company Picnic
6. How To Effectively Utilize A Bullwhip & A Bottle Of Gin In Today’s Workplace
7. Is It Better To Have A Raging Semi Or Stay Flaccid During Business After-hours?
8. Dildonic Delights: Plugging Up Estrogen Levels In The Millennial’s Workplace
9. How Showing Your Tits On Facebook Will Stimulate The Economy...and My Pants
10. Trim The Hedges or Scorch The Earth? Pubic Hair Grooming Tips For Young Professionals

Thanks for the tips Gen-Y, but if you are looking for real advice, here it is: live. Be young, make mistakes and learn from them. Live your fucking life. We are human. Fall on your ass and get up because tomorrow is a new day. So come back hungrier…or hornier, but live dammit, live.

"I pee sitting down." - Larry David

And what's wrong with that? I for one pee sitting down. At home of course. Have you ever tried to sit on a toilet seat in a bar, school, place of work, the Vatican for that matter? It is an exercise in the truly disgusting. First off, sitting down when you pee, gentlemen, does NOT make you any less of a man. If during your visit to the tinkle fairy you are reading Better Homes and Gardens, you may want to take inventory of your masculinity. If you aren't reading, or for that matter are reading (something gung-ho, or masculine)... guess what; you are amongst the silent and comfortable army.

Should we stand when we pee at all times? Looking over our shoulders at that pile of clothes on the floor that never made it into the hamper, that pile which started out as a molehill and now rivals Pike's Peak in vertical splendour? Should we have to be uncomfortable when comfort is just a knee's bend away? The answer is plain and simple and for all of the homophobic, painfully obvious. Sit your ass down. How many times have you exposed your tubesteak in a valiant show of manhood with legs stiff and hands on hips, only to let loose with the stream of beer, or soda, or whiskey, or vodka or you name it, to then at once with a twinge of urgency, realize that if you had sat down you would have been able to carry this measure of humanity through it's perfect product? Well at that point of male negligence on account of our ridiculous, ingrained notions of masculinity, you would have to stop mid-stream, thus posing serious mental and physical pain to both of your brains. Had you been sitting, nature could have taken it's course in the boldest form of testosterone driven antics... the full on fart n' shit. There is a reason why we as men, still chuckle at fart jokes. We laugh because essentially they are one of the things that evens the playing field, and quietly reminds us that, no matter our social position, we are just as crude and base as the Queen of England. (Can't tell me that Lizzy don't rip... at her age)

Moving along, I find it pathetic that men would view something as basic and essential to the subsistence of an individual as the explusion of waste to sustain a somewhat healthy life, to have boundaries and battle lines. If you sit when you pee, "you're a homo." Great, will if I stand when I pee should I admire my own wang? Should I marvel at God's creation of the ultimate utilitarian limb? Give me a break. I'm standing when I could be sitting and trying not to hit the rim. If I am sitting.. I am trying to have the greatest non-sexual orgasm of the day. Humankind's best thoughts have been articulated whilst someone was sitting. Thomas Jefferson didn't write the Declaration of Independence when he was jogging, the Gettysburg Address wasn't written on a treadmill and the Constitution wasn't penned during a 5k. Those great minds who wrote those famous pieces of human emotion and reason were sitting, and pondering in comfort when they eloquently set down our country's greatest notions. Notions that have since become gospel to the populous.

In the end, I did not intend for this post to be lengthy or to proselytize at great lengths about the joys of a good sit down pee. I just want it to be known that there are men on the planet who do sit when they pee... born of greatness? Perhaps. Born of complete laziness? You bet your ass cochese... and who amongst us can't rally behind that standard?

This One Could Get A Little Racy

I guess you knew this topic needed to be spoken about sooner or later and I really don’t know how funny this blog is going to be (its not trying to be mean, I swear). With MLK and Barack Obama’s inauguration fresh in our minds and hearts, I wanted to give my take on the age-old subject of race. Like Dr. King, I truly do want equality amongst the races. When black people (yes I DON’T say African American either, but I’ll get to that) attain a victory, be it small or momentous like Mr. Obama’s win, some cry, others are joyous and other rub it in everyone else’s face or worse yet riot. I just don’t get it. During black suppression or the 50s and 60s, I understand the Black Panther movement and the need to use aggressive action. Perhaps that’s all the younger baby boomers and Generation X knew. Why is it still continuing? I want to explore a few racial issues that I have seen in my years on the planet.

Prologue: I “Get” It
I suppose it would only be a bit more politically correct and authentic if I were to preface this. I am a young adult, half Italian, half Puerto Rican and very proud of both heritages. I love the NBA, rap music, James Brown, Motown, fried chicken (hey my nationalities are only associated with pasta and rice, so fuck off) and I’ve even gotten me some brown sugar a time or two (and plan on it again someday). It’s not an apology before the storm; I just want you to know where I’m coming from. In fact, historically I always befriend my Hispanic and black contingent in the workplace because I feel I can relate to them as I myself have always been raised to be racially accepting and for that matter, lower middle-class. “I can’t believe you know so much about hip-hop music!” “Wow, I didn’t know you liked basketball so much?” Even worse, “Jon, you’re alright for a white boy.” Who said I was bad? Why does the fact that I’m an okay guy or can relate to any minority yet alone black people seem so surprising? Larry David has been quoted as saying, “I nod to black people so they know I’m one of the good ones.” I feel as though I have to do the same still today. So I’m going to take a page out of his book, George Carlin’s and even George Lopez (yes he is an equal opportunists when it comes to race jokes in his stand-up), when I explore the pale fascination I have with black people.

Chapter 1: Not all contrasting races are xenophobic.
Yes, I know a white person might not hold the door or given you a dirty look while you were driving or walking, but that does not mean it is because of the color of your skin. Maybe it is because that person is an asshole, you were driving like a jerk, walking in the middle of moving traffic (many do it and it ALWAYS pisses any race off) or you are just plain ugly. But it’s okay there are plenty of ugly bloated, drunken Micks, Mexicans, Mexicants, greasy Dagos, dumb Pollocks, Swedes, Gooks, buffoonish Canadians and hook-nosed Jew bastards. My point is everybody of any race knows or has seen an ugly person. Maybe Garry White didn’t hold the door for LeShawn Black because he is a fucking asshole not a racist. People are assholes, not necessarily racists. I didn’t hold the door because I didn’t want to wait for the person to walk over to make it and Rosa Parks didn’t want to give up her seat. Why? Likely because we were both tired (did I just compare myself to Rosa Parks?). Just the other day I went to use the treadmill at my local gym, my only option were too jog next to a white guy or a black guy. I quickly glanced at both or them and they both caught me. Hey, I wanted to get an idea of who I would be jogging along side of for the next 30 minutes. In the end, I jogged next to the white guy. I think I saw the black guy give me a look that screamed, “Cause I’m black, huh.” I felt guilty for the next 0.0001 seconds. The black guy was going full speed with full sweat bouncing everywhere listening to “his shows” on the television. The white guy was quiet as a mouse, never distracted me once and left 5 minutes into my workout (hey, I was not offended). It’s a free country he could listen to whatever he wants and grunt to his heart’s content. That doesn’t mean I have to chill next to his sweaty ass, no matter what color he damn well is.

Chapter 2: The Politically Correct Way To Say “Black”
I never have nor will ever say African American. I say black. Black people say black, why can’t I? Then again they say nigga and I don’t (unless I am rapping along to a song in a car with whites or Hispanics), but what are you going to do? Elitist white people look at me funny when I say black. Listen up Tucker and Doreen, politically correct does not make up for the fact that you don’t want to be seen with “those people” or that you think Michael Buble (I say Bubbly) is the world’s greatest recording artist. I think Afro-American is just plain retarded too. All black people have afros then? My father (a white man, man) had an afro perm in the 70s, does that make him an Afro-American? It’s just retarded. That’s another word I think everyone should be able to use. Retarded. The PC way of saying retarded or slow is saying a person is mentally challenged. That’s what I say when referring to the mentally “troubled.” First those with problems way back when were called village idiots, then retarded, now mentally challenged. We can say idiots just fine, now retards (or wee-todds for you kids) should not be an issue. It’s just evolution of vocabulary slang. Anyway, black people have called me white (as I look too pale to be Puerto Rican to some, whatever) and I call them black. I call it being socially correct. To quote Zach Galifinakis, “I drank so much last night, I African Americaned out.” See we can be politically correct here too. So screw off, Tucker.

Chapter 3: Nappy Headed Media Hoes
So, do I think Don Imus was being racist when he called the women’s Rutgers basketball team “nappy headed hoes?” I’ve heard many of his shows through the years, so deep down he is just kind of a bigot who doesn’t know any better. Does that excuse him? Not really. Was I disappointed that he was taken off the air (he’s back but hidden in a station no one really gets)? Not really. It was a lame attempt at shock humor and any relevance the I-Man has had long since been fading. The people who brought him “to justice” were just bored and needed something to get riled up about (not unlike Johnnyboy said about liberals today). Howard Stern can get away with saying “racy” things because Robin is his trusted radio partner, has listeners of all races and is actually funny.

Michael Richards. His outburst was strange to everyone, which led to a media fixation around it. When Kramer enlisted the services of Jerry Seinfeld himself to help him apologize on David Letterman that was not good enough. His career was definitively over and Mr. Richards would now be known as Cosmo Kramer and the dude who is racist. That’s enough punishment for him to not leave the house during the day. Not for our racial media “leaders.” Al Sharpton has a perm and talks a lot; I don’t really care about him. My beef is with Jesse Jackson. Yes, the same Jesse Jackson who blew his political bid by calling New York Hymie Town. Then over 2 decades later, the United States is finally ready to embrace a black president, Jesse should lend his full support, right? Well if this is support, I don’t want to know what opposition is…



I understand. He didn’t know his mic was on and it was taken “out of context.” That’s where Kramer failed. He should have said the n-word when his mic was off by that way of thinking. They are both idiots, Jesse just has a better publicist. Cut my nuts off if I'm wrong, but i think this is why Obama distanced himself from the "great" Reverend.

So a “nappy headed ho” is not a good thing to be called, but I think the Jesse Jacksons and Al Sharptons of the world are something worse, media hoes (I prefer the word “whores” as it has stronger context). Enjoy your company as a media whore Jesse, right up there with Paris Hilton, Britney, K-Fed, The Beckhams, Fergie, Kim Kardashion and countless other fucks. To be a media whore, it is equal opportunity, regardless of race, religion, sexual orientation or gender. All you have to be is a douchebag looking for attention and a quick news story. Checkmate. Looking for real black leaders? Try Richard Pryor, Bill Cosby or even Warwick Dunn (an extremely charitable athlete) and many others. They pushed the boundaries of free speech, made us laugh, think and used their celebrity and fortune to benefit those who really needed it. Unlike some prick who preys on the ignorant to screw up and is bitter that he wasn’t president first.

Chapter 4: “We’ve Come A Long Way, Baby”
What makes this blog fun (or at least until we are taken down) is that Johnnyboy can write a blog about being a conservative Republican and regardless of what I say (I consider myself an indecisive moderate) I voted for Barack Obama. John has made some great points to deter the Obots, but the fact remains I voted for him and what’s done is done. I felt when I voted for him that a lower middle class young adult such as myself would have the best chance for a prosperous future. What happens from here is up in the air, but the fact is a black man is our president. It’s about time a higher standard has been set for minorities. After all of these years Jackie Robinson was a huge deal (and was for the time in baseball), but young people today can’t relate to that since segregation is almost a dead issue in sports (I’ll take a black guy as my quarterback if he is good and I could care less about hockey unless the Whalers come back). A lot of young inner city youth don’t even care about baseball (Real Sports will be the first to tell you) as Hispanics and even the Asian population seems to be gravitating towards the sport. So as gritty urban dramas and rap records have told us, there is either rapping, playing ball or hustling. That’s pretty much it for minorities in poverty. Well, adding president to that short list is definitely uplifting for those who think they don’t have a future. As my 90 year old gram put it, “He’s a very well spoke colored man. I would have voted for him.” Get over the fact that she said “colored” and pay attention to the fact that she would have voted (if she was in better health). She grew up in the Great Depression, World War II and the racial separation era. She says colored because that’s the era. The fact that a person at her age is accepting of the “change” (I’ll believe it when the economy is back on its feet) this country is undergoing; we really are making tremendous strides on that front.

Epilogue:
Have you ever been the only black person in a crew of preppy cracker asses? How about the only white guy in a crew of gangsta ass, well I better not say, type people. It can be awkward. Cultures are different. People are strange. Jeremy’s spoke in. Mama said knock you out. Punks jump up to get beat down. But we’re all living for the city, so big bang baby, don’t throw ya gunz, baby I need your loving sometimes it’s a cruel summer, we can all be a cult of personality, so put on your red shoes and dance the blues because dancing days are here again. After all, I’m on a plain, I can’t complain. So what does this mean for the contrasting races that make up this grand land of man and woo-man? As the late great George Carlin once said, “Make fuck not kill.” I think those are words we can all live by.


These have just been my views and if you stumbled on to this article, I hope you understand that I am an equal opportunist at calling out people on this forum. I feel I am a better person for talking about different races like I would my own. I understand there will always be racial sensitivity in some form, likely for the rest of my life. What if white was black and the history books been reversed? It’s a blog I dare not take to task, but The Pharcyde did in this video what is undoubtedly one of my favorite songs of all time and just a weird way to end this thing we call a weblog…

Welcome To Louder Than Bombs... "I would have blogged tonight, but I haven't got a stitch to wear."

Welcome to Louder Than Bombs. Ahhh so much has changed in the ten hours since Jon and I decided to start our own blog. Out with the old, and in with the new. Just because the term, "hatred" is not in our blog's name... does not mean this is going to be a sunshiney love-fest. On the contrary dear reader, Jon and I are still quite angry. On behalf of Jon and myself, welcome and enjoy. Check frequently and keep your chin up kids.

A Thank You to The Democratic Party, From a Conservative Republican

Firstly, I do not pretend to be a font of brilliant political thought. I read the National Review and I read the New York Times. To be fair, I read the latter because I believe it to be important to understand your opponent. I am not a racist, I am not a fascist, I am not a sexist, I am not a religious fundamentalist and I fall to the pro-choice side of the abortion issue. I am not a tobacco chewing, moonshine drankin' son of the Confederacy. On the contrary, I am a middle class white male from New England, and more specifically, the New York Metropolitan area. That being said, I would like to comment on how unbelievably ridiculous it is that I have to preface my post with all those facts about me just to dissuade you from the idea that because I am a Republican, I am Cletus the Slack Jawed Yokel, ya know... this guy...

My reason for wanting to thank the Democratic Party is quite simple. By electing a black president, you have unwittingly destroyed one of your most important rallying cries. What can you whine about now?

If we set the clock back to last year, we can see a completely different Democratic landscape. The mere fact that the DNC decided to push Obama past the Clinton political machine, (which rivals Tammany Hall) should have sent up red flags all over the place. Nevertheless, deals must have been made... ahem Mrs. Sec. of State. The Democrats were hell bent on running a black candidate, and because of that, I feel bad for Mr. Obama. They wanted desperately to look like the party of progress, the party of hope and the party of change. What better way to do that than throw a black American into the show. It is almost sickening, because when you boil down to it... yet again we see an instance of rich white people using a black man for their advantage. Way to go progressives, you set the bar high for being manipulative. The underlying damage they did to their ethos was the destruction of their most poignant socio-political point; the proclivity of Americans to be racists. There are a multitude of other issues that the left hold important and essential to their existence, but this one was their trump card.

If we look back to the fall of the Soviet Union, we see the death of the great Conservative cause... the end of European Communism and undeniable victory in the Cold War. Reagan took care of that with the help of Maggie Thatcher, the Pope.. and a crumbling Soviet economy. Nevertheless, Republicans seemed lost after that pivotal moment in world history. Small issues were then manically thrown into the forefront of our political thought as Republicans, and things such as prayer in school, gun laws, and abortion rights were given far too much attention. Attention that would have been aimed at ending the Cold War, and more importantly, winning it. If you lose every dime you've ever made in a fire, you will more than likely be hell bent on getting it back. You will put all of your effort into recovery. It may take years, and you will become accustomed to having to put a ton of effort into one aspect of your life. When you gain that fortune back... what do you do with the surplus energy? Undoubtedly, you will expend it on important yet somewhat petty things until people start to shy away from you because you tend to seem "manic" in their eyes. Republicans eventually found their way back to the Republicanism of the Roget's Dictionary definition and decided a return to the fundamental principle of Republicanism, which is, and has always been, personal freedom and state's rights, was the best course of action.

Now the Democrats face the same issue. Don't be surprised if you see the Congress and the President start to really make a full court press on the Global Warming issue, or an attempt to strengthen Roe v. Wade. Don't be alarmed if you hear the term, "affirmative action" again, and above all, keep your cool if your taxes seem a bit higher to fund entitlement programs. The kicker though, is that although these issues may seem a bit fresher because of the new administration, they have all been around and discussed ad nauseum for years. The Democrats will be doing alot of re-iterating in the next few years. This is partly due to the fact, that if "new" issues are in the forefront of the American media, which is fueled by the left, Americans will not forget, but have something else to talk about other than the fact that they no longer have retirement funds. They've lost their big gun with this historical election. Now, we just have to see what they return to and how hard they drive towards whatever new goal is popular amongst college professors and the mass-media.

I am going to end this post with this statement; I am an American and I support my president. I am proud of my country for coming so far and I wish Mr. Obama success, for no other fact than, I have to live here... and I would like it to be a pleasant experience. I don't agree with the man, and in all honesty I do not trust him fully. He's an Illinois politician, and the last Illinois politician that was trustworthy was Abe... and I'm not even a big fan of him. If you are a Republican reading this, take solace in the fact that the Democrats sustained a major blow to their backbone and if history is any judge, it will not be an easy road to recovery. As for now, wishing the president to do poorly would be like punching yourself in the groin. Why? You're only going to end up hurting yourself. It is nice to say, "I told you so" and I have no doubt we'll get to say it more than a few times before this administration is phased out, but it's nicer to say, "wow America is pretty damn ok." In the mean time, look into Bobby Jindal. Above all Conservatives, cheer up, the next election is going to be here before you know it.

Writer's Note: I do not use the term African-American, just as I do not refer to myself as an Irish-American. American is just fine with me, and should be with you.

Recipe..... for Greatness! : people who DON'T deserve props, but get them anyway

There are alot of people out there who are treated like Gods when they should actually be treated like ... well like everyone else. So I guess I can start this list now... before I do, let me state that these are obviously just my humble opinions. Also, I would like to ad that I am smarter than you, so these opinions should be yours as well. If they are not, work on it.

Let me get this one out of the way....

1. Barack Obama

You really have to worry about the population of a country that decides God doesn't exist, so instead they'll worship a politician. I realize that this is history in the making. I realize that Obots from here to L.A. have been excited as hell since November. I also realized a couple weeks ago that during the Israeli incursion into Gaza, more people were talking about what kind of dog Bammers was going to get for his daughters than a Middle Eastern war. (The Middle East effects us... in case you haven't noticed.) Love him or hate him... I don't care. Lets let the guy have some time in office before we decide he's the greatest American president since George Washington. People seem to be forgetting the fact that black, white, red, brown, Democrat, Republican, Christian, Muslim... all of that doesn't matter, what matters is that after all of that, under all of those adjectives; he's a politician. We all know how honest and caring politicians are. The morons in this country who have decided that this junior senator from Illinois (the most corrupt state in the union) is the Messiah have better come to grips with reality, and soon. One man is not going to change the world, or the course of this country. We will ultimately be deciding in which direction we are heading. So just try this out Obots... listen to what he says from now until he's out of office, listen to it and think... and then decide if you want to be behind whatever he is saying. Don't just pop up because Barack said 'jump'. I know it's a difficult concept to wrap your head's around, but just give it a shot. Oh and by the way, he only got 52.9% percent of the vote. That means almost HALF of the country did not vote for him. Get over yourselves.

2. Joe Torre

I am a Yankee fan. So how could I possibly say this??? Easy, he didn't win the 96 World Series, handing the Yank's their first title in 18 years. Buck Showalter and Gene Michael did. That was Showalter's team boys and girls. Showalter got the boot after the 95 season and we got big Joe. We won!!! Then we won in 98, 99, and 2000.... the talent on those teams was at such a high level that anyone could have managed those man-gods into and through the Series. I can't tell you how many times I screamed at the television, at the radio, and in the stands at Joe to get off of his big fat ass and show some spirit, get pissed off, or take a pitcher out who had been giving up dinger after dinger. Yanks win in '04 if he hadn't put Mo in the game, and just let Gordon keep doing his thing. That was the moment I realized that not only did I think Torre was overrated, but that I actually, hated the man. After we axed him last year he went to the Dodgers as you may or may not know and took his team farther than the Yanks... here's the kicker ; it was actually Manny Ramirez who pulled that team into the playoffs. Once again that pudgy fruit got to ride someone else's coat-tails into the post season. Unbelievable. He sucks.

3. Jon Stewart

Jon Stewart... well where do I begin? First off, I don't trust, nor do I respect anyone who tries to hide the fact that they are Jewish. If you're Jewish be proud. Jon Stuart Leibowitz, you are an asshole. There's nothing more pathetic than a celebrity who thinks their opinions hold water with the American public. Bill Maher falls into this category as well. Apparently, a failed comedy career is a pre-requisite in the world of liberal, pseudo journalistic entertainment. "Couldn't hack it on the stand-up circuit huh? Well that's alright, just start talking politics. Don't know anything about politics huh? Well that's alright, you're non-threatening enough. Enjoy fame!" Every comedian has to have a quick wit, and good timing. Just because you may posses those two very fine traits, it doesn't mean you're intelligent. There are alot of people in this country who apparently confuse a quip, or a punchline with cogent, serious political thought. This doesn't surprise me though. It is easier to not care and just laugh at something than to actually learn about it and form your own opinion. Jon Leibowitz, you are a putz.

4. Bruce Springsteen

Bruce Springsteen... let's call him BS to save time, and I think it's also quite fitting. Where do I begin? He's definitely the most overrated clown in the music industry. His guitar playing is sloppy and uninspired. His voice sounds like a guy singing with a dil-doh jammed up his ass, and the fact that he considers himself the working man's ambassador makes him the most unbelievable douchebag on the planet. He had a couple of hits... and since the mid nineties he's just gotten pudgier and lamer. His albums and singles flop before they drop and he's become a punchline. I remember a time when if you mentioned the words, 'worthless, pompous, self-righteous, liberal, activist, musician, jackass and butthole' in the same sentence, whoever you were talking to would immediately chime in with, "Bono!" but alas, not anymore.... Congratulations BS, you are now the crowned king of the assholes.

This list could go on and on and I will add more installments one day... but it's time consuming and I'm tired. So here is a short list of people that I have no use for..

Joni Mitchell, Rosie O'Donnell, Jerry Seinfeld, Paul Mcartney, Jim Carey, Stephen Colbert, 50 Cent, Snoop Dogg, Courtney Love, Kevin Smith, The bands, Poison, Chicago, The Eagles, Guns n' Roses ... just way too many out there to put down right now. Give me a week.

“Honestly Dude…” An Editor’s Rebuttal

Some had been said of Johnnyboy’s recent post. I happen to know said “Jon” in the previous article and while some of that post maybe true, I know that man to be loyal, hard-working and at the very least honest. I know the man who wrote the post to occasionally be the exact opposite of those traits. This is not a tear on Johnnyboy, it’s just an observation. Like the reporter that will make the interviewee seem like more of an jerk than they really are, this is my take, stance and overall reply to Johnnyboy, as this is his life.

Chapter 1: The Saying
“Honestly Dude…” A saying said on an extremely consistent basis by John, sometimes followed up by an obvious, yet blatant lie. Honestly dude, I know you really needed a ride back from purgatory, but I had to chop down a tree with my dad for random reason #543. He really said the tree part too. Honestly dude, Rick Black’s girlfriend sucks, Ray Riggiel is a creep, Khil Macobs is too loud, Don Moncento is a meanie head, Mete Feer is this, Malex Hudor is that… Man this guy kind of dislikes a lot of people. Honestly dude, I can’t make it out, I have a laundry list of things to do including laundry. Why don’t you not waste my phone minutes and say, “To be honest sir, I really don’t want to hang out where you are going.” Period. Honestly dude, some honesty would honestly be refreshing, dude. I totally vouch for the kid, though.

Chapter 2: “At Your Convenience Except Not At All”
John is the opposite of a convenience store. Come to his doorstep and maybe he will oblige you. “Hey man, what are you doing tonight?” he might ask. Well if you are not going to visit John in the closest allotted distance to his house, your conversation ends right there. Everywhere is too expensive for him and if we could hark back to gas prices from the 70s, it would still be too expensive for John. Oh, plus he’d have to leave his house just to get said gas. In fact a friend of his just had to move down literally within walking distance to see John on a regular basis, but we’ll get to that closet case in a little while. I totally vouch for the kid, though.

Chapter 3: When Life Gets A Bit Rough, Wear The Same Clothes
Some guys try to mix it up with a tie or a blazer like the asshole in the previous article, while others don’t have that option because they don’t have the money to do so. John-knee –boy on the other hand, just doesn’t feel like it. Don’t go with what works, go with what you know. “Not everyone at the same empty bar I go to saw me in my turquoise half-zip fleece with a cigarette burn from Kohl’s, let’s make sure they do.” Well, he’s not materialistic; I’ll give him that. I totally vouch for the kid, though.

Chapter 4:The Laziest Rev. Jim Jones or Bow To Me Faithfully
So why does John rarely leave his own backyard or as my old man says “become a gangster in your own neighborhood?” The answer is simple; he has his own 1 member fan club. For the sake of sakes and to produce at least some semblance of anonymity we’ll call this Cable Guy of a fan/friend Rayson Reiggiel. So no matter who never wants to hang out ever again, John has Raye to answer to his every whim. At the very least John never has to worry about losing a friend or fear that everyone will revolt against him because Rey will always be there. A long time ago, John was the life of the party, city, and southern Connecticut (the area not school). Hanging out with John meant that you stood a chance of getting laid (with a woman), you will meet random cool people, go to a party you never knew you wanted to attend and get drunk. It was like watching the original Caddyshack for the very first time, it was great. The past 3-5 years have played up like Caddyshack II. Some glimmer of promise and hope, but let’s face it, now you’ll get drunk, but only on his terms. The show’s over. Don’t tell that to Rhayson though. He still feels that ol Johnnyboy still gots it and it’s a matter of time before those happy days will be here again, henceforth will do whatever John asks of him. At least Barney Rubbel, Gillian, Sideshow Mel, Sideshow Bob and Chachi had some backbone and their own opinions/storylines. I guess having your own personal lackey by your side means at least one person thinks you are always right all of the time. Remember the scene in Boogie Nights where Philip Seymor Hoffman (or Philmore Hoffman for you drinkers out there) tries to kiss Mark Walberg. Our entire group of friends have been waiting for Raymore Hoffman to attack John Diggler any day now for years. (The similarities between John and Dirk end there too). I totally vouch for the kid, though.

Chapter 5: Fountain of Youth
John has managed to find the fountain of youth, but apparently you are a young college man if you go to school for your bachelor’s degree for over eight years. You don’t stop getting older because you continue to go to school. John I would encourage to respond to this, but you probably can’t because you are writing a term paper…but likely blowing it off (which is why you are still in school to begin with). I only graduated two years earlier (putting my lazy ass at nearly six years), so I can’t fault John at all. Besides, it’s not like he’s doing nothing with his life, simply waiting for some inheritance he doesn’t deserve. I totally vouch for the kid, though.

Aside from these factors, along with alcohol abuse, cigarette abuse, dirty cars and talking over people he’s a great friend. Strong family values, funny stories, natural charm when he wants to use it, the gift of the gab, intelligence and another random character trait that escapes me right now describe John very well. He is my friend and I can’t really conclude this positively, so I’ll end it on that, besides I just came from Black Rock myself and don’t feel like it. Happy New Year. Adios.

"Everyone plays the rules", Things I've Learned from My Friend Jon

Well, What can you say about a guy who greets every serious question you ask him with the same face you see above? Actually, there is a great deal to be said. Let me start off by saying that this lovable bastard is a good friend of mine, in my top three without a doubt. That being said, and out of the way, he is a bit of an asshole. It's hard to say you grew up with someone without having a friendship tenure of at least ten years, and Jon and I are almost there, so for the purposes of this post, I will say that we grew up together. In many respects we did. High School, College and everything that goes along with it an along side of it. I think the true value of a friend is being able to observe the way you deal with situations, and then realize that what you are doing, or thinking, or saying is exactly what your friend would do. Without further ado.... some things I've learned from Jon.

1. Saying you're sorry should have an end result of the other person feeling bad.

It's easy to tell where this list is going to go from that first lesson. This is one lesson that I kind of already knew, but it was perfect in the personage of Jon. I have never gotten an apology from this kid that didn't end with, "but you know John, you did some pretty rotten ... etc..", or begin with, "I wouldn't have said what I said if you hadn't done _____ to me..". Saying sorry is a pain in the ass and a waste of time. Let's face it, if you do or say something that pisses someone off or hurts someone, even though you're "sorry", you said or did it anyway; which means at the time you wanted to say or do whatever you said or did. If you want to apologize, say that you're sorry for hurting the persons' feelings... leave it at that. Or you can take a page out of Jon's book... and make the person feel worse for asking for an apology in the first place. You can't be wrong if the other person is never right.

2. Every once in a while, wear a tie.

This is a very thought out approach to camouflage a life made up of complete misery, drunkenness, womanizing and theft with a little bit of class. I used to have a saying back in college, "never let 'em see the wizard." I used to use this expression when I was referring to girls and not letting them see the "real" you. I used to get alot of flack for that saying, and alot from Jon. He thought it was lame. Now, 5 years later, he's not saying it... he's fucking living it. There is no reason for this man to ever wear a tie, unless he is at a funeral, wedding or his inevitable arraignment, trial and sentencing. That being said... it looks good. Every man looks good in a tie, and theres no denying it. A tie says to all those who see the person, "this guy either has money, a decent job, or has a large inheritance." The cold truth is much different, but that's not the point. While you have that tie on, you're Don Draper, in real life... you're more like Don Carney; kinda funny, used to have an edge but now you're just fucking dead. That last analogy was not meant just for Jon, but for you, dear reader; you fucking hump.

3. If you're not successful, pretend.

I don't know much about what Jon does for a living. I have no idea what a day in the life of Jon at work is like but from what I can tell, it basically consists of making copies, discussing lunch options with "clients" and prank calling me. For the past few years, Jon has been "making moves", to quote the man himself. Not only has he been making moves, he's been smugly holding them over his friends' heads. A. if that is the case... the moves are baby steps as he is still in the same boat as the rest of us to one degree or another. B. He has made no moves whatsoever and leaves home in the morning and sits in libraries, coffee shops and museums until he can come home after a "long day's work." Either case, the man makes an interesting point. Who wants to be around a loser? If I told it like it was to everyone, I would only have a friend or two left. No one wants to hear the true story. Gussy that tale of woe and heartbreak up, and if possible, throw a nice job into the mix. I have no doubt that Jon will be a success one day, he is talented enough and intelligent enough; and if he doesn't... well, I want to say "good", but I can't do that. If he doesn't I'm sure one of us will bail him out. Won't be me though, I'll probably still be in school.

4. Always look on the bright side.

I did NOT learn this from Jon. Jon will always look at things in the worst way so that if they turn out good, it will be a pleasant surprise for him. He believes this to the point where at one time I was worried that he was contemplating suicide when he was actually excited about a date. Listen people, always look on the bright side of life. I believe that firmly because if we don't we will all become like Jon. The world has one J.A.F... and it doesn't need, nor could it survive another. If you don't know Jon, this won't make much sense, but to all of those who are reading this who do know the man... lemme guess, seconds ago when you read, "The world has one J.A.F... and it doesn't need, nor could it survive another..", you smiled to yourself, chuckled to yourself, cringed or whatever, but you fucking agreed.

5. Have a role model.

I'll finish this list off with this most important of points. I know Jon has some role models, in fact I'm pretty sure I could name a couple. But I think they suck, and this is my post, so I give you... Old Gil Gunderson. Jon and Gil are not alike really, but in a way parallels can be drawn. Look at that picture of up there and lets see, they both wear a tie, they both have desk jobs, they both keep bottles of antacids around, and they both have a defeatist attitude and low expectations all the time. Come to think of it, they're not only alike... they're the exact same person. Jon Gunderson. It sounds good. Having a role model will lead you in the right direction, and if it doesn't... in the words of the man I am honoring, "I could really care less, I have my own shit to deal with."

To be clear, this post is in no way an attack on Jon. It's an attack on you, and more importantly me. I have to be friends with this guy.

Happy New Year From Louder Than Bombs

While I am sick as I type this, it is apparently clear that cold and flu season is upon us. As 2008 concludes, the one constant is shitty weather and runny noses. We need a formula that speaks to US for a cure. We need a syrup that is as gritty and old school as the weathered streets of Bridgeport, Connecticut. I give you a fresh face with a taste of yore, I give you Farmer Stinky John's Melikough Syrup...

That's right Louder Than Bomb's own Johnnyboy's first endorsed product! Honestly dude, I can't wait to get me some pessimistic goodness from Garden Terrace (a subsidiary of the Gillman Group).

Side effects may include: upset stomach, dirty jackets, musty living, black lung, erections lasting less than 32 seconds, whiskey dick, more bills, an angry wang and extreme bouts of laziness well after symptoms subside.

If you can't beat them, arrange to have them beaten.

“What’s your favorite show?” “I don’t have time to watch television.” First of all, you are a fucking liar. Everybody squeezes in their share of hours on the tube, at the very least weekly. If you are too busy eating tofu and trying not to break your own neck (as you try to suck your own dick), then surely your wi-fi connection at Starfucks on your Macbook Air, you watch Hulu or any number of online webcasts. My point is everyone watches television. Everyone also has to deal with commercials that come with this form of entertainment. We always will, you have to pay the bills somehow. Back in the day, be it cars, beer, food, toys and household products that dominated these 4 minute breaks. Now, even during a damn NFL game, I see commercials for pills and other medications. Whether it is acid reflux (motherfucking check on that) or trying to pop a boner (check in 10-30 years or when I’m way too drunk), these commercials are rampant. Then I see these anti-depressant commercials, ah I don’t need pills to make me happy (Although other staff here would beg to differ). That’s what booze are for. But those commercials make a fair point. However, I am more of a natural high type of guy. I hate working out, but I like the feeling I get when I lose a couple of pounds and avoid growing a nice rack of man-boobs for another few years. I like the smell of fresh baked cookies or a mid-day nap. But then again there are some things I like that I can’t necessarily talk about at lunch with my co-workers, so here it is a list of things that make me happy. A long few years ago, a big Yale offensive lineman in a drunken rage told my father that I am an asshole. He then stared me down, with a frozen pizza box in hand and uttered these words, “Jon, you are a miserable bastard and are going to die alone.” He then threw the pizza box at my beloved Lazy Boy chair. I then thought to myself, “Well, I can barely share a queen size bed with a lady, much less a casket.” While that man still holds a lifelong grudge against me, I am really not that bad of a guy. I’m not that miserable, but what is being happy? I’ll tell you what happy is…


Getting a blowjob without having to return the favor. Don’t get me wrong if the maincourse is just of the oral consent, I don’t mind going down on a fresh, nubile vagina. In fact, I’ve repeatedly been told that I am a champ at it (it can be a hairy situation at times though). Sometimes after a long day it just hurts my neck and I don’t feel like it. If the girl doesn’t care (or I don’t care about her) I’ll take a benevolent blowjob any day of the week. I know what you’re thinking: penetrating is great (and it is!), but there are days (specifically lazy Sundays) where I’ll just as well take that blowjob and get off just as much. You know what got me off the most? The fact that I contributed absolutely nothing to the cause…oh yeah and her mouth. Next...


Taking a big, old fashioned dump. Oh I just did one, which is making me write this post. So as I’ve alluded to earlier, I have an acid reflux issue and yes it sucks. The short end of the story is that I oft take shits. Some messy, some refreshingly quick, some after drinking beer (the uglies). Every now and again there will be the perfect dump. It’s hard to explain, but I’ll try. There was a time several years ago when I took Imodium…in massive amounts. I was on vacation and with my stomach problems mounting, I wasn’t going to let anything stop me from letting loose, pun intended. I guess I got Imodium confused with Tums and Gas-X and didn’t take a shit for nearly five days. Five days of burgers, fries, milkshakes, cookies, chips, beer, hard alcohol, soft alcohol, chicken wings, pizza and late night bags of greasy chips and other unhealthy garbage all sitting in my stomach. After three days, I embarrassingly told a buddy about this problem. Was it a change in scenery? Were my stomach and asshole on non-speaking terms? He bluntly explained just what Imodium does so now I play the waiting game and have to stew in my poopy juices. Well the waiting game concluded once I returned from my vacation…at work. Relieved, I went…and went. It might have been a Guinness Book record. I even took a picture of it to share with my co-workers. Now I know what it feels like to give birth to a little shit of a child.


Eating enough raw cookie dough to give me a stomachache. Actually that one is pretty straight forward, it’s just delicious.



Imitating a friend’s voice…until he or she wants to physically harm you. So I have a small talent, or so I’ve been told that I can imitate some people pretty well. We all know it is an extrapolation of how the imitatee acts, but it’s not always seen that way. I’ve been told imitation is the best form of flattery, so I view my imitations as just that. If I really hated someone’s guts, why would I have put the time in to do an imitation in the first place? When people are drunk or angry…or both, they often tell you how they feel about you without pulling any punches. Some is said at merely the heat of the moment and should not be taken seriously at sober, less raging, happier times. The same goes for an imitation. Once you discover funny words to say as an imitator, you test it out in the car, then in front of a friend, then a group of friends, then a bar, all while doing this behind the imitatee’s back (especially if it is a dead-on imitation). Eventually, this becomes a cycle of life for you and your group of friends. You get ready to go out, get in your car, buy the beer, get drunk and do the imitation. After a period of time, you start to do the voice (usually in a very sly manner) in front of the person you are imitating. Sometimes, the person will recognize this and say, “Hey is that me!?! Haha, that’s pretty good.” In a perfect world, said person would even embrace it to the point where, it grows old and runs its course. Most of my friends, however, are the ones that will tell me my faults and quirks. Tell me how I don’t know when enough is enough, tell me how drunk I got last night and tell me about the regrettable women I’ve pleasured or displeasured. Out of all of my friends, I will be the first to admit that my tongue is way to sharp for its own good. I can break a person down to a point where their only riposte is physical harm towards me. Good comeback. Where was I going with this?


Retro video games, hanging out with my nieces and nephew (because they are more interesting to talk to rather than the miserable adults in the family), sex in which the woman lets me really have my way, a great meal of Italian or Spanish food, the first date with a chick I actually might like, money, gigantic HDTVs, refreshingly pleasing customer service, watching a great flick, stupid viral clips, the perfect haircut, knowing I have the drive to be more successful than most of my friends, discovering a great band’s catalog for the first time, being pleasantly surprised (by an unsuspecting movie/CD), a great sports game, the feeling you get from drinking right in between the buzz and being too drunk, buying gadgets/movies I don’t really need and laughing so hard it hurts are other less detailed things that place me in high spirits. Overall, I am not very difficult to please. A big flaw, at least in the eyes of people that think they know me, is that I love to laugh. Sometimes at what, is questionable. The bottom line, is while you are breaking down my character in your head while angrily crying yourself to sleep listening to Papa Roach’s Last Resort, I am having a rough time sleeping as well, but only because my 50 inch television gives off a ton of light. The truth of it all is this: I’m better than you and during this ecomonic crisis some extra money can in fact buy happiness. Just remember kids, a laugh at someone else's expense, exhilarating dumps and blowjobs (if you apply yourself) are free and great. So be a jerk, take a shit and whip it out life is too short (just not in my direction).