unnecessary details

I was at Duane Reade today and I saw the following box:



What is the logic behind the photos detailing what an unhealthy nail looks like versus a healthy nail? Are they hoping people will wander the aisles, happen to see the photo of the unhealthy nail, think to themselves, "holy crap, that looks like my nail," and then purchase the box?

Because if that's the goal, congratulations Myococide MS! I had no idea my mangled, yellow, half-eaten nail was in fact unhealthy until I saw that box. Six bucks later, and my nail is now shiny and clear. Thanks Woodward's anti-fungal cream!

And... scene.

a lesson in race

As I was walking back home from getting a haircut in the East Village, I stopped at a corner waiting for the light to change. An African-American woman wearing a bicycle helmet looked at me and started saying something. I couldn't quite hear her, so I walked closer and politely said, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

The woman then said something to the extent of why the hell are you here, go back to China where you belong because nobody wants you here. I was a little taken aback, given that I've never really encountered racist remarks directed specifically at me. The fact that she too was a person of color also threw me off a bit. I mean, the only ones who really have the right to say, "we don't want you in our country," are American-Indians, so I don't think this lady had any more of a claim to the corner of 1st and 1st than I did.

She kept screaming at me as she walked, to which I yelled, "I think you need to tighten that helmet, because you've obviously bumped your head too hard." But perhaps instead of resorting to such insults, I should have spent some time enlightening her on the beauty of the Chinese culture, and all of the advances we've introduced into her life.

For example, I'm sure she enjoys a tasty bowl of spaghetti from time to time... who doesn't? Who is responsible for spaghetti? Italians, you say? Well, sure, but where did Italians first get the idea for noodles? That's right. China.

And this woman probably flew a kite as a child, marveling at the amazing heights reached by a simple piece of cloth soaring into the heavens. Hey, guess what, lady? That joyful memory that was brought to you by, you guessed it. The repulsive Chinese.

The July 4th fireworks display you love to watch each year off the Hudson River? China invented gunpowder and fireworks. Reading your favorite newspapers and magazines? Us too... we invented movable type printing. Silk boxers? Yeah, the Chinese thought of silk. That wig you're hiding under your crazy bike helmet? Mmm hmm, made in China. Toothbrushes, toilet paper, and wheelbarrows? China, China, and China.

So why all the hate, miss? Look at all we've done for you! You should be thankful to have such a talented, proud culture living in your midst. I think once I told her all this, she would have agreed, put aside her hate, and then called all her friends to tell them about the nice Chinese boy she met. Oh well. Maybe next time.

nothing says "sales leads" like racism!

I was watching the Super Bowl this Sunday with about 10 other friends, and we were having a great time critiquing not only the game, but also all of the Super Bowl ads that were peppered throughout the broadcast.

One that stopped us in our tracks cold was the following by SalesGenie.com:



There’s nothing like a racist panda bear cartoon to silence the room in disbelief. SalesGenie.com also had another ad airing during the Super Bowl, this one depicting an Indian worker as a nebbish loser who needs a job to support his 7 children. Again, way to work those stereotypes!



Did we just see two obviously offensive stereotypically racist commercials airing during the biggest advertising day in the U.S.? Really? And did SalesGenie.com really think this was a smart way to get the word out about its product?

Hmm… apparently so, since not everyone was as negative on the campaign as I was. Check out this post on AdRants, where author Steve Hall touts the ads in the following manner:

Still sort of cheesy but both spots are dead on message: Salesgenie will give you 100 free sales leads and improve your sales. In our eyes, Salesgenie has redeemed itself and is assured of not winning the Worst Super Bowl 200 Award of the Year.

Really? "Dead on" message? Not the worst Super Bowl ads? Umm, unless the message was "hey, we think ching-chonging Asians is crazy hilarious," I kind of missed the theme that Hall touts as "dead-on." I guess SalesGenie.com should try to ding a couple of other nationalities next time around to really get Mr. Hall’s attention.

Unless you're down with racially insensitive advertising, I suggest you boycott SalesGenie.com. What's that you say? You have no idea what you'd use the company for anyhow? Hmm, good point. They're probably happy I'm even wasting my time writing about them in any way. Touché, racist jerks. Touché.

one giant step for man(ning)...

As a die-hard 49ers fan, I could hardly believe it when I found myself rooting loudly and proudly for the New York football Giants in the Super Bowl this evening. I mean, these are the same Giants that knocked my beloved Niners out of the playoffs in 1990, on a Roger Craig fumble as he was trying to run out the game clock. The Giants went on to defeat the Buffalo Bills, 20-19 in Super Bowl XXV a week later – a victory I always felt rightfully belonged to my Niners.

In my defense, I do live in New York now, so it’s hard not to feel good for a city that I’ve grown to love. And the Giants were near 14-point underdogs going against a humorless, cocky, robotic team known as the New England Patriots. Not only did the Patriots team seem way too confident about their chances, but each and every Patriots fan on the planet was über obnoxious in their support for their team.

Tack on the fact that the Patriots were undefeated going into the Super Bowl and were crushing their opponents and running up the score up to humiliate them, and all I have to say is this: Karma’s a bitch, fellas.

Ding-dong the wicked witch is dead, and three cheers for the most unlikely Cinderella since NC State took out Olajuwon and Drexler in the 1983 NCAA Tourney. Ok, too obscure a reference for the non-sports-initiated reader? How about Marisa Tomei winning an Oscar for My Cousin Vinnie as an equally unlikely underdog victory (seriously… any movie where the phrase “what the hell is a youte” doubles as the best joke in the movie does not deserve a statue).

So go, go, go Giants! Well, at least until next year, when I go back to rooting for my gutty (polite word for crappy) 49ers once training camp starts.

most, but not all

I saw this image on my friend's Yahoo! Messenger status:



And I guess to some extent it's true. But there are exceptions, of course:



See.

oh, hey. thanks for the heartfelt greeting...

When I opened up my email inbox today, I got a very touching holiday greeting. See for yourself:



Isn't that sweet? It's not even from UCLA specifically, which would make some sort of sense. No sir. It's from all ten schools that comprise the Conference of Champions®.

I had no idea that the Pac-10 and I were so tight. This is what the holidays are all about, people! True friends. Heartfelt wishes.

Happy holidays everyone!

i need to see some ID... or not?

I stroll out of my apartment and look down at my watch --- 5:10pm. Right on schedule. I've left myself plenty of time to make my way out to JFK for my 7:05pm flight to sunny Los Angeles. I walk down to the corner of 1st and 1st, you know, the nexus of the universe, and hail a cab.

I hop in, fall asleep somewhere in the midtown tunnel, and before you know it 45 minutes have passed and I'm pulling into the departures area. I pull out my money clip and peel off 55 bucks to hand to the cab driver. I grab my bags and wheel into the terminal. A quick glance shows 5:55pm... yup, still on schedule.

I walk up to grab my boarding pass, reach into my pocket, and... oh crap. I pull out my money clip, my keys, my ipod shuffle, and my Blackberry. I seem to be missing something. I forgot to take my wallet. Great job, me. In a panic, I look down at my watch... 6:08pm. Damn it. A cab ride back to Manhattan and back would be at least an hour and 30 minutes, not to mention an additional $110 in cab fare. I really f-ed this up.

Defeated, I walk up to the counter and ask if there are any later flights to Los Angeles. The guy at the gate says, no this is the last flight to Los Angeles, but I'm here in plenty of time. I explain that I forgot to bring my wallet, and thus have no ID.

"No driver's license?" Nope. "No passport?" Nope. "Nothing?" No. "Oh, well you can still go on the plane." Um... what? "I said, let me print your boarding pass, you can still get on." Did he not hear me? I said I had no ID. "No, I know. They'll just do some extra security measures. Have a great flight!"

Puzzled, I grab my pass and look down at my watch -- 6:18pm, if this doesn't work, I'm defintely not getting into LA tonight. I walk up to the first security guard at the front of the zig zagging ropes leading to the X-ray machines. I hand her my boarding pass. "ID please?" Um, I don't have it. I forgot my wallet but the guy at the ticket counter said you'd be able to do some sort of extra security measures? "No, I don't think we do that." Well, that's what the ticket guy said. "He did? Well, ok. go ahead, you can try it up there." She points me down the line towards the X-ray machine and let's me through. Success at checkpoint #1.

I make my way up to the second set of guards and hand him my boarding pass. "ID please?" I actually don't have ID, I forgot it at home. "You have no driver's license or passport at all?" No, they said I could still get on with extra security measures? "Um... yup. Sure." The security guard turns and grabs a marker and draws two long lines on my boarding pass before handing it back to me. "Ok, you're all set."

I looked across at the metal detector and X-ray machine. Was I just supposed to put my stuff in there like any normal ID carrying citizen? I guess so. I throw my stuff onto the conveyor belt and wait for the guard to wave me through. He does, and I walk through the metal detector. No problem. He looks at my boarding pass, and waves me into a side area. Uh oh. Here it comes. The extra security measures in full force.

A male guard waves me into a small roped off area. He lightly frisks me, and then asks me to point out which stuff was mine on the conveyor belt next to us. I point it out. Another guard grabs it and swabs everything for explosives. No searches through any of my stuff. Just some cotton swabbing on the outside of my bags. No bomb residue detected. Hooray. They then take my boarding pass, stamp it with today's date, and then hand it back to me. "Ok, sir. You're all set."

I look down at my watch -- 6:25pm. Did I really just do this? I just walked through airport security with no ID. None whatsoever. I'm not sure if this made me happy that I got through so easily, or just a bit nervous about the whole situation. In all honesty, a little bit of both.

One more glance and it's 6:35pm. Time to board. I realize I'm just happy to be on the plane, regardless of the circumstances. LA, here I come!

famous and original

I have been living in my New York apartment for just over 3 months now, but somehow I didn't realize that the place I call home is in fact the nexus of the universe. Says who? Well, none other than Kramer himself. Examine, if you will, this exchange from the classic Seinfeld episode, "The Maid":

JERRY: Hello?

COMPUTER VOICE: You have a collect call from--

KRAMER: Hey, buddy, don't say no!

JERRY: I accept.

KRAMER: I went down to Madeline's. I told her, "You gotta move, or it's over."

JERRY: Well, what happened?

Elaine gets up and leaves.

KRAMER: I think it's over. We had a big fight, she threw me out, I started walkin', and now I'm lost downtown! I don't have any money. I don't recognize anybody. I miss home... and I don't even know how to get there.

JERRY: What's around you?

KRAMER: I'm lookin' at Ray's Pizza. You know where that is?

JERRY: Is it Famous Ray's?

KRAMER: No. It's Original Ray's.

JERRY: Famous Original Ray's?

KRAMER: It's just Original, Jerry!

JERRY: Well, what street are you on?

KRAMER: Hey, I'm on first and first. How can the same street intersect with itself? I must be at the nexus of the universe.

JERRY: Just wait there. I'll pick you up, and, Kramer, stay alive no matter what occurs, I will find you!

KRAMER: Aah!

The odd thing is, there is no Ray's Pizza here. Not Original Ray's. Not Famous Ray's. Not Famous Original's Most Famous Ray's. None. There is a Ray's somewhat nearby, about 3 blocks away. But that one's on Ludlow and Houston (and about 2 streets down from that Ray's is yet another Ray's, but I digress).

But those streets are neither funny nor the nexus of the universe. So I guess I'll forgive that geographical transgression just this once.

the halloween rules

It surprises me that every year Halloween comes and goes, and there's still people who don't get the rules. What rules, you may ask? See, you're part of the problem. It's time to get educated, my friend. It's time to learn the Official Rules of Halloween:

• Girls need to dress scandalously: I'm not saying all girls should dress like whores. Not at all. I'm just saying your costume needs to be more scandalous than your normal, every day outfits. Halloween is the one chance per year to let your hair down and go a tad wild. Don't squander it by carrying around a big piece of cardboard and going as a Facebook profile (true story, and also truly difficult to maneuver in).
• Guys need to do more than wear a tuxedo T-shirt: Seriously. That's not good enough.
  
  
  
  
• If you go to a Halloween party, you have to wear a costume: Come on. This is non-negotiable. Why even bother going to a Halloween party if you're not going to dress up? Oh wait, that's right. To gawk at girls who dress scandalously. Well, consider that your fee for the privilege to gawk. It's the least you can do.
• All kids under the age of 5 should be dressed as animals: What's cuter than this:
  
  
  
  Or this:
  
  
  
  I rest my case. Once the kid turns 5, ok, he can be Batman, and she can be a princess. Until then, animals. You'll never have this time back, people. Strike when the iron is hot.
• Candy should be given out based on merit: I had kids last year who came to my house with no costume at all, just screaming for candy. On the flipside, I had other kids ringing my doorbell who had fantastic costumes. Why should they both get the same Snickers bars and Sour Patch Kids? This is America, people. We should award candy based on merit. You come to my door with no costume? Well, you get raisins. That's the rules. Will you throw these on my porch, or at my window out of disgust? Probably. But I'm willing to take that chance, because you don't deserve a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. You just don't.
• Older kids should still get candy: Provided they qualify under the rules of candy-giving merit above, Older kids should still get a crack at a treat during Halloween. I mainly put this rule in here because I once went trick-or-treating as a college student at UCLA and I have to defend this somehow.
• Candy corn and black licorice are gross: A timeless observation, but nonetheless as true in 2007 as it was in 1907.

Got any other rules that should be added to this list? Comment away!

you know you're a bad parent when...

...Kevin Freakin' Federline is deemed a better adult role model than you. From E! Online:

Kevin Federline will finally get to prove his mettle as Mr. Mom: Britney Spears has, for the time being, lost physical custody of her sons.

Los Angeles Superior Court Commissioner Scott M. Gordon issued an order Monday granting Federline the sole right "to retain physical custody of the minor children." It goes into effect Wednesday at noon, "until further order of the court."

Sources confirm to E! News that Federline already has custody of sons Sean Preston, 2, and Jayden James, 1.

When it rains it pours, huh Brit? At least you can fall back on your awesome stage shows to console you through the lonely night. Oh wait... you can't.