CHRIS BROWN NEEDS TO GO

The other night I was downloading music to make my wife a CD because I am the best husband in the whole world, and while many-a-ladies husbands are out buying diamonds and Mercedes and luggage made of emeralds, I am making awesome mix-tapes for my woman so she can have some fresh beats to groove to, so take that.

But while I was putting together the mix-tape, I kept running into trouble, mainly because the music I listen to is either depressing Blues/Alt Rock, or obscure weirdo shit that could probably be classified as terrible by normal people’s standards of what is nice to listen to, and what isn't. So I turned to the iTunes Top 200 singles list for help. But instead of being overwhelmed by the dog-shit populating the list (there is a lot), I was awed by something much more interesting: Chris Brown has like seven songs on the chart. So I was all like, thee Chris Brown? Like the one who punched out Rihanna* and then got the beating commemorated as a tattoo on his neck (I’m not buying his other explanation), and then he wooed her back by promising not to punch her face in again? And then went on to threaten this female comedian with a custom beating of her own, only to jump off Twitter like a coward when fans reacted badly to his absolutely weird and horrifying threats? Like that Chris Brown?

Yep - all signs point to those charting songs belonging to this classy guy. Needless to say, I thought we (we meaning the 'Royal We' of society that’s comprised of mostly rational people) had decided against Chris Brown retaining his fame and making a whole lot more money off us? I thought he was firmly in our rear-view, an ugly blemish that will be forgotten about in a few years, leaving him plenty of time to smack-around meth-addicted prostitutes in a motel parking lot somewhere near Gardena? I thought that was the plan?

I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised by Chris Brown’s continued success. And yes, I’m fully aware that I’m not really “ahead of the curve” writing an article about how much of a shithead he is. But I do think I am ahead of the curve by saying that I hate people who buy Chris Brown’s music more than I hate Chris Brown. I mean seriously, there are plenty of other talentless assholes auto-tuning their music, so why do people insist on buying Brown’s albums?

I decided to see for myself. So I listened to about five iTunes previews of his most popular songs, which is the exact same way the Grammy committee determines its winner each year, I think. And after listening to these previews, I said to myself: "Wow. That was great. I think I’ve changed my mind about Chris Brown. He’s probably just misunderstood. I’m sure Rihanna asked to be kicked out of a moving car."

Wait, just kidding--he’s terrible. All of his music sounds exactly the same and he sounds like he has a sinus infection, which he probably got from running around with his shirt off all the time. Thus, I find no logical reason for humanity to continue to shower him with money and fame. Case closed.

Okay, I know it's more complicated than that. I know this is a free country and we all have the goddamn right to do what we goddamn want, goddammit, and if we want to eat Turf-and-Turf with bacon on top and watch eight-straight-hours of “Teen Mom” and then go to Wal-Mart to buy more Cool Ranch Doritos super-packs and then sue Wal-Mart when we subsequently trip over the blue dot special display because we weigh several thousand pounds and are too busy reading Tweets by Christina Aguilera to be paying attention to where we are walking, then goddammit, we have the right to do that. It’s a free country and we’ve “earned” the right to do what we want whenever we want.

But then again, shouldn’t we draw the line somewhere? I mean, it’s one thing for a celebrity to snort cocaine off a Japanese samurai sword and end up running down 5th Avenue naked and screaming and crying, and then do a fake rehab stint to make things all better with his or her fan base, because, well, nobody got punched in the eye several times and thrown out of a moving car. And I can even deal with a male celebrity punching another male celebrity in the face, because most of them deserve it and none of those idiots can fight anyway so we know nobody will get hurt. I guess the same goes for female only brawls, too. People drink, people do drugs, people fight, people urinate in public. Shit happens.

But a  guy who beats the shit out of his girlfriend and shows no regret whatsoever? Nope. He should be shunned like an Amish kid when his family finds out he's addicted to Xbox Live.

In conclusion, I’m not sure there is hope for the general masses, but at the very least, can we keep this shitbag off the pop charts? Please? Then you can go back to gorging on Taco Bell and DVR-ing The Kardashians and playing Farmville. Deal?

*I am also not really fond of Rihanna - she is a moron for getting back together with this clown and setting a horrible example for the millions of kids who emulate her, but I don't care enough to really care, if you catch my drift. Bottom line: everyone is stupid - FIN.

Click HERE to follow @NotRyanAdam on Twitter

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STACCATO HATE - 12.6.12

THE CHRISTMAS ALBUM MARKET IS FLOODED
Not everyone deserves to sing Christmas songs and have them played in Target over the loudspeaker. Sinatra: Obvs. Every idiot who ever appeared on American Idol: take a hike. Maybe I'm biased over who can and cannot record an album (I’m sure Johnny Mathis probably punched a hooker or two in his lifetime, and I know Dean Martin probably choked a few minority elevator operators in his day) but still, how many fucking renditions of "White Christmas" do we really need? Nothing is worse than when I find myself enjoying a song only to realize it's someone stupid singing like Nicole Simpson and not Natalie Cole. Fuck Jessica Simpson.

What makes the Christmas Album market even more terrible is, it’s most populated by absurdly wealthy artists who are trying to make a quick buck by tricking old people into buying more Christmas CD’s. Said artists will hire a savvy art director to design the cover to resemble a Bing Crosby album that was released 40 years ago. Then, Wal-Mart will build a display stand and the old geezers will come running, fists full of cash. It's highway robbery. And then these artists use the royalties to buy their stupid Yorkie a tree house with custom interior designed by Vera Bradley. Fuck them.

FLU SEASON
Walking around Manhattan during Flu Season is like walking in front of a giant water cannon that shoots only bacteria in your face. Everywhere you turn people are hacking and coughing and sneezing and looking like someone just hooked fishing lures to their eyelids. And most people are too stupid or lazy or terrible-of-a-human-being to care whether or not you are hit by diseased cough shrapnel. If I were mayor of this city, Governor’s Island would be turned into a leper colony for people with colds, and I would operate it like the refugee camps in Children of Men.

Also, fuck flu shots. And fuck the mass hysteria surrounding them. I’ve never had the flu, and I’ve never had a flu shot, and yet every year I feel compelled to get one because every single person I know is getting one besides me. It’s a mob mentality--I wouldn’t be surprised if the syringes were filled with Hi-C. So obviously if there's ever is a real worldwide pandemic, and Walgreens is handing out free vaccines, you can bet your cupcakes that I’ll spurn their help and end up a flesh-eating corpse.  

THIS TEACHER (Link)
Anyone who decides to crush the dreams of a bunch of kindergarteners should be sent to Abu Ghraib and have bamboo shoots stuck underneath their eyelids. What a fucking bitch. Just because you’re a miserable bag-of-shit doesn’t mean you should take it out on a gaggle of bright-eyed little kids. For fucks sake, I don’t think a day goes by where I don’t want to stop a youngster that I see in the street and yell into his face, “IT’S ALL DOWN HILL FROM HERE, JUNIOR.” But I don't. Let them figure it out for themselves.

TV'S MID-SEASON FINALES
Nope. Sorry, network assholes, this is not a real thing. I fucking hate AMC for doing this. I think they learned it from ABC, who used to pull this shit with Lost so that the season would bleed into sweeps week without “subjecting” its fan base to reruns. And this practice has probably been around for decades, but I’m placing the blame solely on a small sample size because I don’t feel like Googling specifics. Regardless, the fact remains that I’d rather be hit with a rerun or ten than have to bear two months of inactivity. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO UNTIL FEBRUARY??? WHAT HAPPENS TO DARYL AND MERLE???

VIRGIN EGGNOG
If you drink eggnog without some form of alcohol in it, and you're not four years old or Santa Claus, then you’ve probably strangled a hitchhiker at some point in your lifetime. There is only one reason an adult should drink eggnog: to mask all of the delicious booze you're guzzling while sitting around a bunch of kids and your mom. Carrying a bottle whiskey around the living room while the young ones open presents = bad taste. But carrying a giant glass of ice cream and milk and Jameson = gentlemanly.

Also, the people who buy milk cartons of eggnog from the grocery store are probably cannibals.

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STACCATO HATE - 11.9.12

‘Liking’ Hurricane Sandy Relief on Facebook
What is this shit? Why are you asking me to ‘like’ something that someone else is doing other than you? Why are you sending me event to "help"? Why do we need a Facebook event? Have you done ANYTHING to help these poor bastards yet? What is so complicated about it? I donated money and sent clothes (accepts Nobel Peace Prize) and I still feel like a worthless piece of shit. But you, you and your fucking Facebook nonsense, you deserve to sleep in a cold dark house. A cold dark house made of FIRE.

Honey Containers
I would rather massage a homeless man’s stocking feet than handle a honey container without a napkin. If that little plastic bear spends even one millisecond touching your skin, it’s all over. I handle honey containers like a hand grenade, even more carefully in fact. Because if a hand grenade goes off in my hand, fine, death or mutilation. But a honey container provides only hours of horrible stickiness that will leave grubby dirty patches on everything you touch and possibly get in your hair.

Indoor Winter Spider Webs
I have an alcove in my basement where I keep pantry items, and I went down there last night to grab a case of seltzer and walked right into a giant spider web. It was the single most terrifying experience of my life – I felt like that spider had rubbed its dick on me in the subway. And it wasn’t just some run-of-the-mill web - this thing covered the whole entryway and it was as thick as cotton. Just thinking about it makes me want to puke. So obviously the only solution I have left is to burn my house down. I’m sure this is justified by my homeowners insurance.

Walking into Elevators/Subways Before People Can Exit
When people try to enter the elevator/subway before I get off, I make sure they learn a valuable lesson about awareness by dropping my shoulder and totally housing their shit. And yes, I am completely aware that this is not “okay” and I may not be in the business of “problem solving” like an “adult,” but I sure as shit am in the business of making a 4’9’’ Asian lady pay for being a selfish buffoon with the self-awareness of a chair.

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MY RAMBLING THOUGHTS ON THE 2012 ELECTION

So today is Election Day, or at least that’s what the approximately 1,000 new governmental policy experts who have replaced my friends on Facebook tell me. And for the second time in eight years, I’m having a hard time buying into a candidate – this may have more to do with me being cynical than who I think would be the best Leader of the Free World – one guy has terrible hair and flip-flops positions more than Tom Cruise during a Turkish Bathhouse rendezvous, and the other hasn’t done much to make me say, “He should be doing this for more years.” If that quote right there doesn’t scream political savant, then I don’t know what does. But then again, I’ve never claimed to be a voice for anyone when it comes to politics, so I don’t even know why I’m writing this, aside from maybe realizing that everyone involved in politics is fucking crazy.

Seriously, liberals and conservatives and independents and socialists – all crazy. It’s 2012. We should be worrying about colonizing Jupiter, not worrying about two people of the same sex wanting to marry each other and have silent fights about emptying the dishwasher. Are we still pretending this matters? We are? WHHHHYYYYY? Pinning gay marriage as the downfall of family values in America is like blaming Ralph Macchio for the remake of the Karate Kid. The fat stupid children who compromise America’s youth have waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more heavy shit to deal with before they start dissecting the morality of two men or two women getting married. How about we start with everyone carrying pistols around like the Wild West? Or how about reality TV? Can we pin some blame on reality TV, because reality TV is fucking TRASH. Honey Boo Boo and her fucking mutant family should be dragged into the woods and shot. Not funny. None of what those inbred idiots do is funny. Stop. You’re only encouraging more people to act like them.

Anyway, the problem really lies with both sides of the government actually having some good ideas, but both being too afraid to comprise. They are all so dead-set on being against the other team’s ideas for fear of retribution from the players on their own side, whether it be Christians or Jews or the rich or the poor or Burt Reynolds. Instead of believing in what they really believe in, they pick a side and run with it. And this only increases the gap.

Remember in The Outsiders when Pony Boy sits in the car with the rich kid and they have a nice talk about him (Ponyboy) being a hero for saving the kids from the fire, and the rich kid saying he would have let the kids burn because their meeting is supposed to represent some microcosm of social classes sixty years ago? We should be doing more of that. Maybe not the weird, uncomfortable admission like in the movie, but still, we should talk more. Everyone should stop yelling and just talk. Not every meeting of congress has to end with a Liberal and a Conservative whipping out their dicks and slamming them on the table.

 Look, I don’t really know shit about the intricacies of policy making and political agendas and wearing little American flags on my lapel, but what I do know is I can spot a douchebag from a country mile. And every time I turn on msnbc or Fox News or CNN, all I see are douchebags. And most of these guys/gals probably weren’t always douchebags, but that doesn’t matter because they are douchebags now, and that sucks. And this sucks so hard because this country has so much untapped potential. If you want to see one tiny little blossom of potential, just stick your fat hand into your pants and take out your smartphone. HOLY SHIT. Smart phones are crazy. Their size and functionality is just unreal. Literally. I can’t believe this little piece of fucking plastic and metal and science can do what it does. And yet, while part of me is smiling and giddy over being able to check my fantasy stats while also writing a poor review for the bodega on the corner because the food bar looks like it consists of cat meat, the other part of me can’t help but be bummed out. What that little phone represents is our country’s potential, and it just magnifies the fact that there are so many smart fucking people in the US that could help improve our lives, except the decision-makers are too busy slap-fighting over some archaic fucking policy that will be irrelevant in five years. So instead of being utilized, these people are left to go work at Staples and sell dumb assholes McAfee antivirus software. And then the policy that the politicians are fighting over is approved but immediately overturned when the house majority shifts. Stir, mix, repeat.

 If you’ve read this far, I’m sorry. I realize most of what I’ve said has made you either more self-aware of the helpless feeling some people (me) get when they are able to look past the immediate problems and see the larger scale problems our country faces, or you now hate me and are defriending me immediately. Fine, whatever, I understand. But I guess if there is a point to this post, it’s that we are putting too much stock into people who don’t give a shit about us – you and me. They are more concerned with what THEY want for their little gangs to win little battles while the country rots. When are we going to talk about gun control? The climate shift? Did the Northeast not just get fucking POUNDED by a super storm? If I went back in time and told some asshole in 1911 about the term “super storm” he probably would have shot me in the dick. And I would have deserved it, because there were no super storms back in 1911. They had scurvy and syphilis. And that shit got taken care of because this country was getting shit DONE. But we have super storms now, and if I am ever going to believe in a politician again, he/she needs to start talking about relevant topics immediately. I don’t fucking care about gay marriage. I don’t care about fucking localized oil. Do we still need THAT MUCH oil? Is it more a power play over the Middle East? If we can invent smart phones, why can’t we invent fucking cars that run on air? It doesn’t add up. And it all goes back to politicians being crazy egomaniac dickheads who would push your mom in front of a bus if it meant getting an extra vote in the election.

The only way this country is ever going to mend itself is if we stop allowing antiquated parties dictate how we vote. I’m not saying it’s bad to be a part of either one, but isn’t there a way we can be progressive about both party's agendas and start moving toward a common goal for our country? Are we really going to be fighting about outdated social agendas in sixty years? I guess I don’t care if we are, because I will be dead, but I will probably be floating around the ocean because the oceans will have uprooted my grave because everyone was too busy fighting over whether or not we should allow women to have abortions if the midwife doctor la la la BARF instead of worrying about the environment...

Good call, Washington, good call. I hope I come back as a zombie so I can eat your fucking face for being so stubborn and obtuse.

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THE RULES OF COMMUTING: PART I

Commuting in New York City is worse than any other city in the United States. I don't give a shit about the D.C. Beltway or the 405 in Los Angeles or "The Circle" in Chicago. Doesn't matter. At least you are sitting in your goddamn cars with your goddamn coffee listening to the goddamn radio. Do you even know what I would be willing to give up for the opportunity to drive into Manhattan every day? A lung. Seriously. Because if I knew at 21 years old what I know now, I would have started doing heroin to ensure that I never ever have a job that requires a commute in Manhattan. If that statement right there isn't a testament to the absolute horribleness of the Big Apple commute, then I don't know what is.

What makes matters worse is people in this city are just awful. Most of them are selfish inconsiderate dummies who see nothing wrong with eating buffalo wings and a jar of vinegar peppers during rush hour. They also see nothing wrong with whipping out a nail clipper or a cell phone and gabbing away with their stupid kids for 90 minutes.

But I say it’s time that we join together and stop all this madness. I propose that, instead of suffering in silence, the least we can do is implement a set of rules and correlating fines that are actually enforced by the public. And the main purpose of these rules is to make sure everyone fulfills the basic qualifications for acting like a mediocre to satisfactory human being on a daily basis, nothing more. I honestly don’t think that is too much to ask.

To encourage participation and obedience from the general population, all of the money collected by these fines will be entered into a monthly lottery. All persons who buy a monthly train pass - commuter and subway alike - are eligible to win the lump sum prize during a random drawing of ticket numbers. Who doesn't like passive-aggressive gambling? Hitler, that's who. So don't be like Hitler. Join your fellow man and woman commuter and fight the good fight.

As Walter Sobcheck once said, "This isn't Vietnam, Smokey, there are rules." And you know what? He was goddamn right.

THE RULES OF COMMUTING - PART I

RULE #1 - Drunk Cars After 11PM
I have done my fair share of drinking and commuting. One time I woke up on a train that was parked in THE TRAIN YARD. I was covered with newspapers. Snow was literally blowing in through the open doors. Also, a police officer was yelling at me, as if I had snuck onto the train and covered myself in newspapers because, you see, he thought I was a hobo. Surprised he couldn't tell the difference between a hobo jacket and one from Kohl's. So yeah, that was kind of a low point in my life. But to the cop's point, drunks and trains are never a good combo.

And this is why I'm proposing the addition of a "Drunk Car" - which would be made exclusive for people who are too bombed to mix with regular passengers, and want to yell and sing and fight and barf and fall asleep in the aisles. Also, instead of wasting taxpayer’s money on transit cops to guard the drunk car, there will just be wrestling mats and rubber walls stapled all over walls and floor so that (hopefully) no one dies. Because it's just not fair for a hardworking Korean family who just put in twenty-two hours at their grocery to have to sit next to some stupid rich dickhead wearing a YOLO t-shirt and bitching about the Jeep Grand Cherokee he got for free from his rich and neglectful dad because it doesn't have leather seats.

Penalty: $500 fine, Two weeks in jail, and/or forced to wear a sandwich board that says “I cannot control my behavior when I drink because I am a self-centered piece of shit with the tolerance of an eleven year old”

RULE #2 - Food Restrictions
If it's wet or hot or a liquid or has liquid on top of it but is not in a cup, then no. If it has vinegar or sauce that smells like anything other than delicious baking bread, then no. You eat it before or after you ride the train. I don’t care if you chose to live in Poughkeepsie and your commute is 700 hours long--too bad, that’s your fucking problem, pal, not mine. No one wants to smell General Tso's chicken and/or watch you eat it and spill most of it on your khakis and grunt like you’re fucking an ottoman. And for those of you that eat cereal on the train, you should be ashamed of yourself. Might as well make everyone watch you eat a bowl of dog food soaked in dishwater.

Penalty: $500 fine, one glass of scalding hot oatmeal and/or coffee dumped down your pants

RULE #3 - Control Your Music Volume
If your music is so loud that I can hear it even though you are wearing headphones, then please, for your sake and the sake of the public, lower the fucking volume. What are you even listening to? Fun.? Ugh, grow up. You are going to be deaf soon. And when you're deaf, shit is going to suck for you. You will have to read subtitles on the TV and learn sign language and that shit is hard to learn, especially for someone dumb enough to make themselves deaf because they want to listen to Flo Rida at a really, really high volume.

Also, this rule is a favor for you weirdo businessmen who are listening to teen pop. Stop. You’re creeping everyone out over here.

Penalty: $250 fine, pistol shot off next to your ear, banned for life from Beats by Dre.

RULE #4 - Suitcases Belong on the Rack
USE THE FUCKING LUGGAGE RACKS. They aren't only there for Richie Wall Street over here to use as a hangar for his $5,000 Armani suit jacket that he just spent ten minutes elaborately folding like it’s the goddamn Shroud of Turin. If you bring suitcases on the train and I bang my knees against them, then by Rules of Commuting #4, I have every right to throw the suitcase out of the door at the next stop. That's part of the new penalty for being so goddamn consumed with your iPhone that you forget that this planet is also populated by other people who have shit to do too. Also, if you roll your eyes when I ask to sit in the aisle seat that your stupid backpack is occupying, I am going to throw this scalding coffee into your stupid face.

Penalty: $250 fine, bags thrown off moving train, must wear a clown suit for three weeks to and from your office along with sandwich board that says, “I am unaware of other people on this planet and choose to be a mindless dickhead when it comes to my personal property getting in the way of these so-called other people.”

RULE # 5 - Family Car Implementation
I cringe when a flock of forty children come sprinting onto the train and begin to immediately scream and yell and ask their parents about every-fucking-thing they see outside the window. Yes those are trees. Yes those are buildings. Yes that is a bum pissing into a Folger's can. But I am also sympathetic to (most of) these parent’s situations. Most of them look like they would rather be sticking cigarettes into their eyeballs than sitting on a train full of people who hate them. So, the rule is, before 10am and between 5p-8p, there will be a designated Family Car. Open to all, but specifically for kids to cry and babble and pee their pants. To save money, they could just power wash the Drunk Car from the night before – it’s already padded for the kids, so win-win.

Penalty: $300 fine for each child; child will then be forced to watch Bad Santa

RULE #6 - No Grooming
There is not one possible scenario where I could sympathize with someone clipping their fingernails or toenails on a commuter train. None. Even if your house burned down that morning, and you didn’t have time to groom before all of your Earthly possessions were incinerated, I would still hate you. It is literally one of the most repulsive sounds to hear on the planet. I’d rather hear someone vomiting blood into a steel drum than hear that mechanical ‘click’ sound at 7AM. And then the nails fly everywhere, which is just horrible to think about. Who the fuck knows where those nails have been digging? These people should be thrown in prison. This rule also applies to makeup, combing your hair, and flossing(!). The train is not your bathroom. It is a fucking train. Leave yourself ample time in the morning to put on makeup and continue looking like a Peruvian hooker.

Penalty: 1 month in jail, $1,500 fine, magic marker replaces your makeup for two weeks along with magic marker mustache daily application

RULE #7 - Seat Restrictions due to Weight
Look, this may be a sensitive subject for some, but I really don’t care. If you weight 900 lbs than you should act like you weight 900 lbs. No one should have to suffer because you French kiss tubs of Turkey Hill Butter Pecan every night. And I'm not even talking about the people who are just portly or chunky or somewhat overweight - I am talking about the tanks that bust into subway cars and demand an entire row of seats so they can rest their bathtub-sized ass. No one should be awarded extra room because they just polished off a Costco bag of Doritos. You will stand and you will like it.

Penalty – $300 fine for each additional seat you absorb, one month on a Vegan diet

RULE #8 - No Shirt, No Shoes, No Ride
Clothes and shoes stay on. Under no circumstances should you have your shoes off in the presence of other people unless you are visiting Tokyo and it’s customary and if you don’t take them off they will chop off your head with a Katana. Taking off your shoes around strangers after sweating into your socks all day is equal to farting in someone’s face. And wearing a tank top that allows your fat hairy disgusting nipple to peak out of the side is grounds for capital punishment.

Penalty: $500 fine, four weeks of trading clothes with homeless people

RULE #9 - No Extended Cell Phone Use
 People who talk on their cell phone for long periods of time while riding the train are fucking savages. This isn’t your fucking back yard. We aren’t here watching your shitty kids play t-ball. If you have a call that can’t wait, then by all means make it, but keep it short and stop yelling. It's 2012, the person on the other end of the phone can hear you just fine. But if you are calling someone just to bullshit because you have the attention span of a six year old with debilitating ADHD, or to gab like a thirteen year old girl at a slumber party then you deserve nothing more than PAIN.

Penalty: $1,000 fine, a sandwich board that reads “My needs are more important that yours so everyone please feel uncomfortable while I brag about my golf handicap”

RULE #10 - Quarantine for Sick People
If you are sick and you absolutely HAVE TO go to work, then stand in the train vestibule or wear a surgical mask and cough all that shit back into your diseased face and not on me. For someone to think it’s totally okay to get on a train looking like one of those goddamn transvestites from Twilight is just too much for my brain to process. Every time someone sneezes near me I want to spray them in the face with Lysol.

Penalty: $100 fine for each individual affected by perpetrator; must ride train wearing HazMat suit for six months regardless of health condition

RULE #11 - No Freeloading
Look, times are tough, economy, Wall Street, stocks, market, Euro, I get it. But still, stop trying to ride the fucking train for free. And stop hiding in the bathroom to avoid the ticket collector. Do you think they’ve never thought of your ingenious plan? Do you think you are ‘innovative’ for hiding in the piss and shit stained bathroom to avoid a $5 ticket? Well, you are not. And now we all have to wait while the MTA cops come and file a report because you are an asshole. And I have to piss. So thanks again.

Penalty: 2,000% of ticket’s face value fine, banned for life from MTA OR must act as bathroom attendant in Grand Central Terminal for six months to regain rider status and hand out gum and paper towels to homeless people taking dumps on the floor

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FALL IS HERE

Fall is within spitting distance, and my oh my do I love the fall. Because fall means the end of 98 degree days with a humidity index of 5,000, no more Facebook photos of your goddamn sandy knees in the foreground and an unnamed ocean in the background with the caption “paradise” even though you are probably at fucking Jones Beach, and no more showering six times a day because god-forbid New York VENTILATES ITS PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION STATIONS. But mostly, I love fall because it inspires Summer Lovers to moan about their beloved season being over. Even people in California, who live in a magical land filled with adorable faces and convertibles and kale salads that fall from the sky, have the audacity to complain about summer ending even though it’s 72 degrees and sunny every single day of the year.

Well, newsflash, America, get over it, because summer is DEAD. Look at it over there, lying face down in a puddle of Bud Light Lime-A-Ritas and Banana Boat sunscreen. It just looks so used.

To most people, the fall is the Jim Belushi of seasons. It’s not terrible, but it will never be mistaken for its much more formidable and talented older brother. (I don't know who of the Belushi clan represents spring and winter seasons, because I'm not intelligent enough to flesh out a full calendar year of Belushi metaphors. Maybe Mom Belushi and Dad Belushi? Did they have any other siblings? Was there an Eddie Belushi? Okay, Eddie can be winter). But, it just so happens that I loved Mr. Destiny, and I loved The Principal and, surprise surprise, I love fall.

We, as a spoiled and fat and rotten society, tend to believe that once Labor Day hits, life will fall into a morose state of unending monotony. This is not true. First and foremost, let’s not forget about Global Warming. It’s like 65 degrees in December in the Northeast. So if you don’t find this paralyzingly terrifying, then at least you have that to look forward too. But if that doesn’t tickle your fancy, here are ten other things that you can enjoy more during the fall than you will during the summer.

Football
As a Jets fan, I am less excited about the prospect of watching football every Sunday, mainly because I know that in two months I will want to use Mike Tannenbaum’s skull as a toilet. But still, football is back, and that gives me one more sport to watch that isn’t hockey or basketball, which is just dandy. The only thing the summer gives you in the football department is preseason football, which provides the same satisfaction and excitement as drinking room temperature water.


Tailgating
Tailgating in the summer sucks. Anyone who thinks it’s fun to stand in a parking lot while the baking pavement melts your shoes and your brain is a masochist and probably rubs habanero peppers all over his/her crotch. In the fall it’s both cool and sunny at the same time which is awesome. Also, you won’t get heat stroke from standing over a charcoal grill.


Staying Indoors
Admit it, sometimes you like to be spend obscene amounts of time indoors, only summertime guilt won’t allow you to. But being indoors is great, so why deny yourself the pleasure? Indoors has climate control and TV and the internet. Just because it's not raining does not mean every day of leisure needs to be a Robert Frost poem.


Going Outside
Okay, so if you insist on going outside, you can go now. The weather is cool and the air smells like burning leaves and you won’t feel like you’re being tortured just to go to the park for five minutes. In the summer, most people are just PRETENDING to enjoy the hot humid weather because they think everyone else is enjoying it. In reality, everyone is wondering if their armpits smell (they do) and wishing they were inside where there are cold drinks and "Breaking Bad." Fall is the perfect time to go out and enjoy the sun without dropping dead.

Spend Some Quality Time at the Bar
What better way is there to spend a day inside OR outside than at a bar! It’s both pleasantly cool and acceptable to be hunkered down in a dark place with a bunch of drunks because there are sports to watch and, well, those nine pitchers of beer aren’t going to drink themselves. You go ahead and spend your time whining about summer being over while I am busy over here shooting darts and laughing and betting on college football even though I know nothing about any of the teams. How does Penn State look this year? I bet Joe Pa is really pumped for another year at the helm!

Hang out with your Dog at the Park
My dog has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder with his tennis ball, and wants to play fetch all day long and doesn’t care about things like “exhaustion” and “skin cancer.” During the summer, playing fetch with him for 10 hours a day in the blazing hot sun isn’t very fun. It’s so hot and sticky and I get itchy from searching for the stupid ball in tall grass and then I have rashes and then my dog eats something he’s not supposed to eat and vomits. If you don’t own a dog, here is some top secret inside information: time and weather mean absolutely NOTHING to them. Dogs will spend 21 hours running after a flashlight orb. But it's fall now and I don't care anymore, so let's go exercise that "condition" of yours, champ.

Baseball Playoffs
If you complain about baseball being “boring” then you are a Communist. For Pete's sake it’s as American as Karate and French fries. But okay, sure, maybe a July game between the Astros and the Mets isn’t a heart-pounding affair, but did you even watch any of the playoffs last season? Jesus Christ, they were bananas! The Rangers were one strike away from winning their first World Series AND THEY BLEW IT. And then they blew it again the next night! And then Tony LaRussa won his third World Series title and got drunk and fell asleep in his car at a stoplight again. If you can’t appreciate that kind of drama, go back to eating boiled grass in Siberia, Ivan Denisovich.

Halloween Candy
If you have kids or nephews/nieces or just generally spend time with children (weird), then you will have easy and unmonitored access to piles and piles of candy. And I don’t know about you, but I prefer snack sized stuff. It’s obviously more nutritious (fact), and no one will know whether you've had three snack-sized Snickers or THIRTY, except for maybe the bathroom.

Pumpkin Patches
Do I like to pumpkin pick? Not really--most of the pumpkins I settle on have weird green bumps on them and end up rotting in two days. But pumpkin patches feature homemade donuts, and I would eat my own shoe for a dozen cider donuts. I once saw a fist fight between two moms over donuts at a pumpkin patch. And I thought it was totally justified. True story.

Driving in a Car
Getting into a car after it's been sitting in the sun for five hours is one of the most unpleasant experiences. Even if you've spent the afternoon in a nice, cool house, 50 gallons of sweat immediately pours from your body and you receive 3rd degree burns all over your hands and thighs from the stupid upholstery. Fall? Nope. Nice and cool. Why not take the old Cavalier for a spin? Maybe stop by the pumpkin patch for some donuts? The possibilities are endless because it's FALL IT'S SO GODDAMN PLEASANT!

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THE ART OF LAZINESS

I consider laziness a talent. In high school, I knew a kid who, instead of getting up and walking nine feet to the toilet, he would stand on his bed and piss out of his bedroom window. True story. And, on top of his neighbors no doubt adoring him, I was impressed that he chose to urinate in view of the public instead of using the bathroom that was right next to his bedroom. The effort it took to open the window, open the screen, and lean his pelvis out the window so he didn’t accidentally piss on his bed must have exerted more energy than getting up and walking down the hallway like a normal human being. I guess the way you relieve yourself is a matter of preference here in America. Some people piss into empty water bottles. Some people get up and piss on their lawn. I, on the other hand, use the toilet. I guess that’s because I am a fancy gentleman, but que sera sera I guess?

So what am I getting at here? Well, well, well, so sorry to take time away from you creating that cool “JimBRO’s Summer Jams 2012” playlist on Spotify. But seriously, nobody wants to listen to a bunch of shitty Silver Chair songs from 1000 years ago, so you might as well quit and listen to my point. And that point is this: living in such a great and wonderful and adorable city like New York, you run into all different kinds of people. And many of those people are lazy. Yes, per capita, New York City is probably on the low end of the laziness spectrum. I assume this because not everyone is morbidly obese, and not everyone looks like a thousand hornets stung their face. Regardless, there are still a lot of lazy people in New York City.

What kinds of lazy people? Well, that's what I’ve been getting at all along, you see...

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