Millionaire Bee-yatchmaker, Part I

My newest guilty pleasure is an insipid show on Bravo called Millionaire Matchmaker. The premise: Rich, socially retarded people are set up on dates w/ attractive but spiritually and mentally empty singles in a futile attempt to find a mate. The idea is that these wealthy guys are kind, genuinely decent people who just haven't found the right person yet. Turns out that most of them are just toolbags. In case you don't know that's a combination of a tool and douchebag.

I'm not stating that being rich makes you a self-interested toolbag (although there is often a direct correlation), but the men on her show would easily surpass the cordless drill, magnetic screwdriver and Joe the Plumber for "Tool of the Year" Award. I've stated in the past that if you base a romantic relationship on money you're kinda screwed up at the start. Millionaire Matchmaker demonstrates this excellently.

The woman in charge is Patti Stanger, an East coast Jew w/ freckly tits and an attitude that screams, "Bee-yatch"! As Bon Jovi said, she really does give love a bad name. WTF is a "3rd generation matchmaker" anyway? Her Grandma was setting up hot 1920's poon w/ a Vanderbilt? The fact that she preys on the insecurities and frivolities of rich assholes makes her a predatory bitch at best and a glorified pimp at worst. Did I mention that she also has freckly tits? Additionally she looks a lot like the WWE's Chyna, but w/ a worse wig. 3 comments about the program:

1.I fail to see much of a distinction b/w Patti’s job and that of a pimp. She basically runs a high profile escort service. She has this rule of “no sex” but she’s setting up dudes w/ hot chicks and charging them for it… She’s a fucking pimp in my book, and not the good kind like Snoop Dog.

2.Her methods for “matchmaking” are hilarious. Telling a guy that his condo needs new furniture is considered “counseling”. Getting an appt at a hair salon is a makeover. I’m a fashion nightmare and even I could say to some dude: “Uhh.. Brush your teeth and shower. Use deoderant. Uhmmm… then compliment her looks. Next… ask her questions about herself?”

3.Another great technique of Patti’s is getting men to lower their standards. Isn’t that terrific? You pay this bitch to set you up w/ a hot piece of ass and she says: “Sorry, you’re 48, you shouldn’t be dating 25 year olds”. Fuck you, clown! I’m a frigging millionaire. I didn’t come here so you could tell me I’m too old to get that, cuz w/ one phone call and $1000 I could have it now. Or one trip to Thailand and $5, either way.

Lastly I wanted to add that the very existence of a show like this makes me weep for the future. That people would devote time and thought to a self-important Jewess w/ sun spots on her boobs who doles out "expert advice" about love is truly sad. Stunning conclusion in Part II, coming soon. I have to get back to watching Rock of Love w/ Bret Michaels. That show rules.

Madoff’s Punishment, Part II

If you missed me last time, what follows is my punishment for Bernie Madoff. I only came up w/ 5 days and invite others to add their own suggestions. Note:This is graphic, disgusting and comes from the darkest corners of my psyche. Proceed at your own risk.

Monday
The week starts w/ Madoff naked and tied down to a sandpaper sofa. His movement is completely restricted. He’s given a sub-lethal dose of a super-laxative. So he’s stuck there in the nude w/ his ass like an open fire hydrant spurting brown water. The TV in front of him airs nothing but Ghost Dad on continuous loop. And every 5 minutes a guard flicks him in the ear after whispering, “Your mother never loved you!”

Tuesday
Talk to him out of nowhere in 3rd period English. Tell him he’s “cute” and touch his leg at lunch. Then get him to buy you nice gifts and meals at expensive restaurants, like Quiznos. Promise him sex but when you get in the back seat of his ’93 Ford Taurus exclaim loudly, “Hey, Rupert Roo!!! You have a REALLY small penis!” and run out of the car like an Ethiopian w/ a McDonalds gift certificate in Times Square. For some odd reason this one really resonates w/ me.

Wednesday
Place him in the center of a giant, padded maze w/ no solution. It’s pitch black and his only surroundings would be the left over rotting carcasses from a local slaughterhouse and the same insects they used in Temple of Doom, but a lot more of them. If he refused to move or was stationary for >10 seconds, a mild electrical jolt would be administered through the floor. This is exercise day.

Thursday
The next room he is hung upside down and forced to listen to I Saw the Sign, by Ace of Base over and over. Every other minute all the oxygen is removed from the room, effectively suffocating Bernie for 30 seconds. When the air is let back in, it’s a special mixture of stained baby diaper scent and the farts of lactose intolerant inmates drinking Shamrock Shakes. This goes on for 12hrs. His lunch break is a dose of Ipecac that, of course he is fed in the same inverted position, forcing him to puke back into his own mouth continuously.

Friday
At this point, Bernie has been kept hydrated w/ IV fluids but has eaten nothing all wk. Present to him a trough filled w/ the spit-chewed tobacco that all the prisoners have contributed during this time. If he refuses to eat it, feed him via TPN (in his veins) but only after a meticulous plucking of every hair on his body and a liberal application of “Ícy-Hot” to his scrotum each hour.

Each of these is based on real life scenarios I have encountered, and likely explains why this blog exists in the first place.

Madoff’s Punishment, Part I

Previously I wrote about Bernie and defended his ethnicity as being wholly separate from his crime. Nonetheless he’s one of the biggest pricks in recent history. Madoff plead guilty to all federal charges w/ no plea bargain. Sounds like he’s accepting his fate and admitting guilt? You think he’s sorry?

Wrong. This piece of shit knew that even w/ a plea bargain he’d still be in jail for the rest of his jizz-gargling life. He did this so his family and friends won’t need to perjure their asses off in court. Plus he doesn’t need to say a word to the Feds about where he stashed the loot.

He wore a Kevlar vest to the courthouse. People want to kill him and I understand. But it’s like the end of David Fincher’s Se7en where I’m yelling to the Brad Pitt character: “Don’t do it, you dumb fuck! Don’t shoot him!” Death is too easy for this scum; same as for Kevin Spacey (not the actor… he’s rather talented, but I still prefer Hackman’s Lex Luthor).

Furthermore it’s uncreative to imagine Bernie in solitary confinement for the rest of his jizz-gargling life. The only visitors allowed would have to be Lexington Steele, Peter North and a troika of well-endowed, Black men who each consume a Cialis and Vodka mixer before BID gangbangs begin.

“We're going to federal POUND ME IN THE ASS prison!”

–Michael Bolton, Office Space

Believe it or not severe, repetitive corn-holing would get redundant and sequentially less effective. Even the guy who cleans up Port-O-Potties gets used to the smell after a while. The key to a good punishment, as w/ so many things (sex, food and music come to mind), is variety. Next is my 5 day punishment schedule for Bernie. I think it's relatively creative. Did I mention that jizz-gargling is involved?

Hiroshima Tears

This is a story told to me by a WWII vet in the winter of 2003, while I rotated through a military hospital. The words aren't identical, but it's pretty close.

I had already been part of the invasion force in the Philippines. By the end of the day I think I got about eight of them, but I'm not sure. Two I do know, because I used my bayonet. The first I hit right in the throat [motions w/ his hands] and blood came shooting out like a fountain. The other guy I hit in the chest. He didn’t die right away. I had to brace my boot on his head to gain leverage adequate to remove the blade. Actually, I’m not certain if he died but he wasn’t moving when I left him.

"I stabbed 2 men to death and shot 6 others that day… I was 19 years old. "

A couple years later I was brought to a training camp in Guam. I didn’t have to ask what we were training for… We were going to invade Japan. No one talked about it publicly. We didn’t have this constant news on the TV like you have now. But we knew… we knew that most of us wouldn’t make it.

One day I was standing outside the landing strip when I saw my CO with tears in his eyes. He had the oddest smile on his face. “They did it… I’m not sure how, but they did it,” he said. The US had dropped an atomic bomb on Japan.

Even then, surrender wasn’t assured. But it was my best shot. I was a death row inmate receiving a presidential pardon. And I cried too. Those tears weren’t for the 8 men I killed on the Philippines, either. They were mine.

Religion and Bernie Madoff

Two points about the biggest scam of all history.

1.I like how CNN and FOX both reported “Jewish Investor Steals Billions”. The fact that this guy is Jewish has nothing to do w/ his crime, other than that his religious/ethnic affiliation granted him access to a lot of rich, Jewish people. BTW, I am ¼ Jewish, although raised very Lutheran. This gives me enough pull to make jokes about their holidays and eating habits, but not the Holocaust.

2.And this is the bigger point. Faith is not a virtue. Specifically, blind faith is not something that you should be proud of. I have faith in a lot of things.

I believe that the sun will rise tomorrow. I have faith that I can use chopsticks to guide an ahi roll into my mouth. But this is clearly based on past performance. Getting close to debating Scottish genius David Hume and his criticism of induction, I will deflect. These assumptions are rooted in empiric evidence no matter how you spin it.

In a Darwinian sense, I feel that religion could not survive w/o the concept of faith. Religions that don't demand faith allow their disciples to logically demonstrate them to be untrue. Those religions tended to die out. Religions that demanded faith didn't leave any way for their followers to use logic against them, b/c they denied that logic worked against them. Those religions survived, and so most religions we have now are of that type.

The type that says: unmerited belief is not only specially regarded and rewarded by god, but doubting is specially loathed if not punished by him. Here’s the real Ponzi scheme…

Unmerited belief is presented as courageous risk-taking that will be recompensed in greater degree, whereas belief based on verifiable proof involves no risk and thus has no special merit.

So you believe me based on dubious proof and I will reward you for this leap of faith. This is how you get 19 lonely Muslims to fly airplanes into the World Trade Center.

The kicker is that God supposedly endowed us all w/ a small fraction of his intelligence. You know, “made in his image”? So he gave me reason and a limited ability to think about shit… I should use my brain to weed out false prophets and straw men and not buy that stupid Snuggie. But it’s somehow an insult to him if I use this intellect to try to figure out the biggest questions of our time?

It’s like The Wizard of Oz, “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain”! If the SEC, FDIC or any reasonable govt official would’ve taken a peek under Bernie Madoff’s curtains, they would’ve uncovered this scam. I engage any ardent theist to do the same.

Home Schooling my Niece

Teddy, the 13 year-old son of my neighbor, is the only kid who calls me “Dr. Roo”. I saw him getting the mail in a wizard’s outfit ala Mickey Mouse from Fantasia.

“What’s up, Ted?” I inquired.

“I’m not Ted! I'm arc-knight Sindelore w/ a class 5 wizard’s mage” Then he made a “wooshing” sound effect and ran into his home. He was wearing a cape. Is Teddy a nerd? Is he retarded? Perhaps developmentally delayed? No. Teddy is

Home Schooled!

My sister plans the same for my niece. This is me venting. Both of my sisters and I went to the same schools and we each have college degrees. There are classes in AP Muppets (or anything), a weight room nicer than my gym and a cafeteria w/ these chocolate chip cookies that rule. Plus there are tons of attractive, intelligent people there.

And they will want nothing to do w/ my niece once my sister is done “educating” her. I loved public school. That’s not to say I had it easy. I was a huge dork who received bimonthly ass kickings and no girl from my own school would touch me. I had plenty of friends who shared a similar fate. But we all turned out fine.

By the end of high school, no one was picking on me and I could almost talk normally w/ women my own age. When college ended, the opposite sex was no longer too intimidating. After grad school it all seemed like a big joke (my stupid insecurities and inconsequential, yet incessant worries).

I might’ve gotten a higher SAT score had I been home schooled, but I learned so much about life and myself by interacting w/ others. My sis fails to recognize this fact. Sure, I failed many times and faced rejection on a routine level… but that’s life, dude.

Which brings me to my point: Home schooling your child is like teaching your kid about sex by fucking them yourself in the basement. Little Melissa would certainly give better head if taught from her Mom and Dad to retract her teeth and cup the balls delicately. You could even teach her that “stroke and suck at the same time” technique you discovered at Jewish sleepover camp. Her reverse cowgirl would be unbeatable! She would be the most advanced little fucker in her age group.

Despite these pertinent skills Melissa would also be totally messed up. B/c in the end,kids need to learn some things on their own and you just have to trust them and the system that everything will work out. You can’t protect them forever and you can’t teach them everything yourself. If you truly believe that you can, you’re really just fucking them (basement optional).

Sneaking into AMC 30 and Fake Confidence

I walked up to the usher and flashed a ticket stub I'd found on the ground outside the theater.

“You want back in?” He asked.

“I just had a smoke,” Then I coughed, for effect. I figured they were really only looking for nervous teenagers and as long as I feigned confidence he'd never suspect me. I’ve been faking confidence for 20yrs now so this was an easy role. It worked.

Speaking of great acting, I stumbled into Doubt w/ Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman. As the film started a baby in the next row starts crying. Holy Shit. You bring your 5-month-old kid to see a film about Catholic priests raping boys? You suck at life and I want to punch you. Do you also hire Michael Jackson to baby-sit?

Luckily the mom picked up the child and left. Not 5 mins later and this dickhole’s cell phone goes off to the tune of “The Macarena”. Now I haven’t heard “The Macarena” in like 7 yrs but it’s just as annoying now as in it’s heyday. Before I could even get out a, “Hey dickhole”, “DICKHOLE!” or even a “Stupid dickhole” 3 other people were already scolding this poor guy. He certainly deserved it, the dickhole.

Next there was this crying baby who was concomitantly talking on his iPhone, but I won’t get into that. Overall Doubt is a very good film. I can see how it might piss off Catholics, though. But hey, you don’t hear about Rabbis playing “Hide the Salami” w/ their Hebrew School class. It would have to be Kosher Salami, too.

The performances from Hoffman and Streep were amazing. This was no surprise. What was surprising were the strong supporting roles played by Amy Adams and Viola Davis. Doubt has a cool ending and certainly challenges its audience.

As the 2nd act ended an usher, complete w/ his $5 uniform and mini-flashlight, approached me. I thought, “Well, it was good while it lasted,” and reached for my wallet.

“Sir, you can’t eat those here,” and he pointed toward my bag of dried fruit.

“I’m…” and I immediately thought I'd say I was diabetic but figured he’d ask to see an insulin syringe or something so what came out was: “I have hereditary beta-galactosidase deficiency and I get hypoglycemic.”

“What?” the puzzled kid asked me.

“Beta-galactosidase deficiency. Look, I can go buy some Sour Patch Kids or something...”

“No, it’s cool.” Was his response. Faking confidence is impt. There can be no doubt.

Hey, Sweet Tits!

It’s always bothered me that a greeting like this can’t be taken seriously. I guarantee than anyone saying that you have “sweet tits” or a “tight ass” is more sincere that your friend who reassures your status as “skinny” or your hair looks “great”. No, dude. You’re 20lb overweight and your haircut is outdated by at least 5 yrs. It’s not the skirt that makes you look fat; it’s the cellulitic thigh dimples and huge ass that does the trick.

But that guy who whistles rudely and swears he’d “hit that” is totally telling the truth. The issue is larger than personal honesty. It’s about sexual clarity and personal relationships. Here is a good guideline for women to follow.

When a man wants to have coffee, he wants
“to plow you”

If he’d like to catch a movie he really means
“I want to rail you"

If he wants to “Talk”, he'd prefer
“Bending you over a chair and fucking the life out of you until you need IV fluids to counter the dehydration.”

Some say that it’s objectifying women to refer to them in these terms. If someone called me “sizzle dick”, “thunder ass” or “Alan Alda” I'd take it as a compliment. Most women don’t get that b/c guys have been trying to bang them (and hence engage in this behavior) since they were about 12y/o.

No one opens doors, buys dinner for or drives us

home. We get that. Hardly any men, other than the extremely rich, will ever appreciate the superb ass kissing that beautiful women receive on a daily basis. Men who are deluded enough to think they have a chance w/ you will do that, but only if they think they have a shot at doing you. Which leaves me at an impasse b/c I’m not rich but I would really like to tell you about your fresh ass and delectable rack. Does that come off as sexist?

Best Smells in the World

To quote Dr. Rachel Herz, faculty at Brown: "The olfactory nerve synapses almost directly into the amygdala, in the limbic system, which is associated w/ memory and emotion”. Basically humans recall smells much better than sounds or images. Once I was in an elevator and someone walked in wearing the same perfume as my 1st legit girlfriend from high school. I instantly got a boner when memories of losing my virginity in her parent’s basement slammed into my brain like a bullet train. Then I realized it was a gray haired, 55y/o lady and used my backpack to cover my bulge.

On that theme, I thought I’d neglect the stream of negativity that runs in my brain like a plummeting stock ticker and describe some of my favorite smells. I bet you can’t read this list w/o smiling!

11. Popcorn at the movie theater
I know that they piss and do all kinds of Tyler Durden-esque stuff to theater popcorn. You can’t say it doesn’t at least smell good, though.

10. Orgasms
Yes, they have a smell. At least they do if I’m involved. And no, this has nothing to do with anal.

9.New-baby scent
Not to be outdone by new-car and new-puppy smell, new-baby is the best!

8.That one shop at the mall that only sells coffee
I’m not even a coffee drinker (unless it also contains Bailey’s or rum) but that store smelled awesome.

7.Cinnabon
Holy shit is this stuff good! I don’t want to hear about the calories, I’d just like the people at Yankee Candle to make one that smells like a Cinnabon. I’d buy one for each of my fat friends.

6.A stack of $100 bills resting on the phat ass of a Colombian Hooker
If you’ve never been there, you wouldn’t understand.

5.BBQing anything
Nothing like the odor of grilled cow flesh. If you put it that way it doesn’t sound so appealing. But trust me, this is the shit.

4. Chocolate-chip cookies baking in the oven
No Oedipus complex here w/ my Mom making me cookies in a garter belt, but there’s something so sexy and beautiful about the aroma of chocolate. Scientists claim a link b/w dopamine release and the consumption of chocolate. Please refer to #10 above. My dick does the same thing, ladies.

3.Newly cut grass
Reminds me of running through suburban Chicago as a kid. But I also remember that my asshole parents got divorced when I was 9 and had to cut 2 lawns sans pay because the $10 each wk surely would’ve sent the family to the poorhouse.

2. Rain
I don’t know if it’s ozone as a consequence of molecular ionization or the water acting as a filter to blunt the effects of pollutants… but it smells awesome after it rains. If I had 3 wishes from a Genie, one of them would be that all my farts smell like a good rain. Next I would drink a lot of milk.

1.My sweaty nutsack

Love those humid, Chicago summers! Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. And I recommend that you do.

Just to complete the circuit: