Jersey Shore

First of, I'd like to take this opportunity to issue a sincere apology to my parent's generation.
You guys were right.
No matter how many times you said we should go play outside or read a book like you guys did in the old days we laughed at such idea and remained glued to the television, Nintendo, Gameboy and now Blackberry's.

As season two of "Jersey Shore" begins, it has proven just how wrong we were to ignore your advice.
This is what it's come to. "Jersey Shore" isn't just a bad television show. It's the highest point of everything wrong with my generation. It's a group of people doing things you wouldn't usually want people to know about, except in front of millions of people and are getting rich and famous off it.
We couldn't have predicted that ignoring your wisdom would lead to the cultural apocalypse dawning on us in our lifetime.

But it did.

For those unaware of the phenomenon that is "Jersey Shore," it's a "reality" show based around a group of twenty-something who apparently have nothing to do in life other than drink, party, randomly hook-up, and be racist. It's not that drinking, partying, randomly hooking-up, and being racist is exclusive to my generation. In fact, those are the virtues the rockstars, rapstars, and Hollywood lived by that your generation admired. But at least they bring some sort art form to the table. Simply being stupid is not art. It's stupid.

We've taken popular culture to a low "fist pump" that it has never seen before. While America is no stranger to dumb comedy, my generation has created a strange brand of humor where we are laughing at and wanting to be the cast members of "Jersey Shore."
If you ask a kid, what appeals to them about the show, they'll surely answer that it's funny or awesome or say some sort of slang that surely means a version of funny or awesome.

It's not. It's embarrassing.

I don't see how we're ever going to get out of this hole. While I sincerely hope that in a matter of years "Jersey Shore" will be nothing more than a fad unknown comedians will joke about on various comedy central shows, I'm afraid we've set the precedent that fame at any costs is the American dream.

Don't get me wrong. I want to be famous too. But for doing something great.
The people on "Jersey Shore" are famous because they are morons (although some do have great boobs). There is no aspect of intellectualism involved in watching "Jersey Shore."

I've learned my lesson. I promise instead of watching "Jersey Shore," I'll read a book or something.

As soon as the new episode of "16 and Pregnant" is over.

Sincerely,

Edgar Arellano.

All I ever wanted was to be woken up by a car alarm

No really, the sound of the car alarm going off six, sometimes seven times a day is truly a comforting sound. I especially like when it goes off at 1:00am, and then again at 5:00am. THANK YOU so very much! Usually after the worst day of my life, it's the first and only sound that I want to hear. I shouldn't be sleeping anyways as we all know that sleep is for the weak.

My dog would also so very thankful. As if having his entire life uprooted and moved to a strange new place isn't traumatizing enough, he gets to listen to the piercing sound of your pride and joy telling the world that the wind has blown. It's alright though, since you've got me up so early, I have plenty of time to try to coax him out from underneath the bed before I leave to the gym to experience the next worst day of my life.

I understand that protecting his belongings is important, but he has to be the rudest person I've never met. If he doesn't fix that I'm going to do enough damage to get at least a full month of peace and quiet while it's in the shop. =]

Dog Shit

I came across one of my favorite blogs I've posted in the past, and thought, why not re-post it for good laughs.




To the owner of the dog who took a shit outside my apartment building

All I have to say is Fack You for not picking up your dog's shit.


The dog park is literally half a mile away. You couldn't make your stupid dog wait? No. Instead, I step on your dog's steaming pile of shit right in front of my apartment.


Even after I took my shoe off, and left it outside my apartment, I could still smell your dog's shit all hovering around me like a toxic cloud.


Have you never had to clean dog shit out off of a pair of Nike running shoes before? Maybe you should take a look at how many ridiculous grooves there are in the soles.
[ check out looking for my sole-mate blog ;) ]

Meanwhile, I try to delicately rinse off your dog's shit in my bathroom sink, little bits of shit water splashing all over my jeans. I start gagging because I can taste the dog shit steam . No matter how careful I am, shit water runs over into the actual shoe, soaking right through.


Puking a little in my mouth, I run away, just to come back to my fucking roommates cat taking a drink of your dog's shit water in the sink.


You a-hole.


The worst of it all, is I just bought a brand new toothbrush. I haven't even used it for 3 days, and then I get to use it to clean out all of your dog's shit out of every single fucking groove of the soles.


Dog owners beware, the next time I see you NOT pick your dog's shit, I will be glad to pick it up for you.


You just don't want to know what I am gonna do with it.

WTFM

What the fack mon! I need a mothafacking new job, I have a resume that says I am fit to be your damn boss.
I have applied to a ton of jobs and not one of them responded
WHAT THE FACK MON!

Cover Letter? Here's my fackin cover letter!
Now, I'll strip if I have to...that's right! I'll strip-tease if I have to.
Got a bear in your backyard eating your trash? I'll fight that mothafacka and I'll win!
Can any other prospective employee say that?!
FACK NO MON!
What'd you say? You lost your keys? fack it! I'll shoot the goddamn lock off your door with my laser eyes!
Your brother is gay and you're not cool with that?
I'll de-gay him Don't believe me?!
Hire me and I'll fucking show you!


OBJECTIVE
I need a new mothafackin job

SHIT I HAVE DONE
I invented the word fack
Had sex with the Spice Girls.
The Carpool doll was originally my idea until that bastard Chug Norris stole it.
Gave prophetic visions of the apocalypse.
Watched the movie "Juwanna Mann" at least 18 times.
Created a new genre of dance, I like to call it the microwave
I rde-gay my friend, I now know how it works.
When I was 8, a frisbee flew into my backyard and I blew it up with my mind.
Can make weapons out of anything, (very useful in a hostile work environment)
Proficient in Microsoft Office and Photoshop

Iwould like to remind you that I can make weapons out of anything.



remember.....anything.

WHAT THE FACK MON

Obsessed

Look, I'm a good looking guy, that's fine.

But why not just ask me out instead of playing all these silly games?

All day long, I'm running into women of all sorts who just stare at me shamelessly, through their EPV (extreme peripheral vision). You think I don't notice, but trust me, it's obvious.

The young waitress at Sushi? Smiling at me, touching my shoulder and tossing her hair seductively with every refill of my green tea? Then I leave my customary 5% tip, and next time I come in she's even more obsessive, trying to play "hard to get" by avoiding my table completely.

The older lady who approached me at the gym, who has her own business and is looking for people just like me to help her expand in the area? Like I don't know what that's all about!! I bet there's nothing she'd like more than for me to expand in her "area"!!

The well-endowed blonde bartender with the wedding ring.. who calls me "Hun" every time I order another beer, YOU'RE MARRIED!! YOU WHORE!!

Well, I've resorted to blog this, so I can use the anonymity to help mask my amazing looks and irresistible charm. But no doubt some of my internet stalkers will find me anyways, offering to let me see them "live 24/7" showering with their sorority sisters.

If you can approach me with confidence so we don't have to play these silly games, I'd love to hear from you =]

Edgar

p.s. - I'm not attracted to canadian women, no matter how much money they are willing to put in my bank account. Nothing personal

Wednesday morning

So I was in the shower this morning, having a vodka martini while washing my hair, and I thought "wouldn't it be great if I had a girl to do this for me?"

I mean wash my hair, not drink the martini, I can do that myself.

So after heading outside and kicking some homeless men so I could steal their change cups for cash, I ran into a Starbucks and ordered my daily non-fat iced venti caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso, then had the barista stir it with her tongue. You didn't know Starbucks did that? Well you've probably never asked, try it next time.

I sat down and fired up my laptop, first browsing a couple porn sites to see if my under age cousin was getting any work... then opened up blogger.com and started to write.

So by this point of the blog, you probably want to shoot me in the kneecap with a small girly handgun…

Let me give you some more ammunition...

* I've never stolen a car without returning it with a full tank of gas, two tickets to a Chargers game, and a gently used baseball bat in the trunk. Just kidding, who can afford Chargers tickets these days? Come to think of it, who can afford gas?

* I know the difference between a fine kilo of pure Colombian yay, and a shopping bag full of icing sugar, so don't try and double cross me like my first four girlfriends, specially the last one.

* Everyone hates mimes, but not me. I respect someone who knows when to shut the fuck up and listen. If we all did that, there'd be less war. Then again, if there was less war, ....Hollywood.... would start making more movies about teens trying to lose their virginity before college. I lost mine in 8th grade to my parent's chubby french Canadian cleaning lady, how come no one makes a movie about that?

* My booty call thinks I'm an asshole. Partially because I keep getting her name wrong. I'm bad with names. If we sleep together, and I wake up and call you Betty, Sally, or Billy-Jo, don't be offended. I have the same problem with phone numbers, so if you wonder why I don't call, it’s because some nice family in the 'boonies is getting non-stop booty calls at ..2am.. in your place.

*Don’t worry about that though, as I never sleep with the same girl twice. You wouldn’t ask DaVinci to paint another copy of the Mona Lisa, would you?

* I get mistaken for Ricky Martin almost everywhere I go. Not Ricky Martin the gay singer, Ricardo Martin the assistant custodian at the local High school

*don’t be blond. I’m tired of blonds in this town (like any of you are really blond anyway, pshh, Grow some self-confidence and go back to your natural color.)

Sure blonds have more fun. Blah blah blah, but brunettes try harder, and I respect a woman who actually puts some effort in, blonds just have it too easy.

* I don't care where you live. I have a car. I like driving. Have some ice cream and pie waiting for me and I'll drive to Julian (well, it'd have to be homemade pie if you live in Julian, Ca)

* I’d prefer if you ARE married or have a boyfriend, Look I’m not going to sit around picking out new cutlery from a catalog with you, or help you walk your tiny little dog. You should have a steady boyfriend or husband for that. I’m like a roller coaster, fun to ride by yourself (or preferably with your best friend or sister) but terrible for trying to have a dinner party on.

Well, that’s it for me.


PS. If I’ve piqued your curiosity, you should know that it’s Ok for you to email me,

Don’t you want to know if I just talk the talk, or walk the walk?

PPS. Please include a photo of yourself, preferably in a dress, but failing that, underwear. And failing that, track pants and a dirty t-shirt always work.

PPPS, Both my parole officer and my therapist have given me the thumbs up to date since the accident.



=]

Sole-mate

My name is Right Shoe
I am a right shoe - Nike BRS 1000/Tri-Vis. I lost my "sole" mate on Saturday at the park. His name was Left Shoe.

You see, my owner, Left Shoe, and I were running together, and as we were running, Left Shoe, my partner of one year, went flying away. I knew this would happen, I tried to tell my owner to tie us better, but he just wouldn't listen. (My owner has been learning how to speak Shoe, but talking to him is mostly like talking to a brick wall)

Left Shoe and I have been inseparable these past months of hard training, ever since we got identical Made In China tattoos. It's like we were made for each other; we were even the same size & color, and we enjoyed the same activities. We traveled everywhere together.

Some people say Left Shoe jumped on purpose. Sure, we weren't in our prime anymore; Left Shoe especially got a lot of comments about being tattered and over the hill. But I know Left Shoe and he wouldn't do that to me. It was a bad day for Left Shoe because in the morning he stepped in gum, and then later he stepped in an unknown dog substance. But he was fine, and was excited to go running that day.

I really miss Left Shoe. I've come to terms with the fact that I may never see him again. But I really just want to know what happened to Left Shoe... Did he land in a puddle of mud? or did the winds carry him out the track? or maybe he burned up on re-entry in a blazing fireball of glory.

If you know anything about what happened to Left Shoe, please contact me. I know I can't hope that Left Shoe is still alive, but I just want to know what became of Left Shoe...

All my thoughts & prayers,

Right Shoe