You know how I wasn’t going to tell you about that new thing at the post office that makes going to the post office a joy instead of a chore--and the reason I wasn’t going to tell you was because Jenn is selfish? Well screw that. The great and wonderful thing at the post office that I was talking about is the Do-It-Yourself-Weigh-Postage-And-Pay-For-It-With-Your-Credit-Card-Machine. That's right. You go into the post office with your heavy envelope or oversized parcel that you want to send, and instead of having to wait in some long ass line for some retarded postal service employee to weigh your thing and have you pay, you just go to this machine. And the machine itself is cathartic even. It has a touch screen, and when you press the touch screen buttons, it makes this really satisfying noise (audibly). And the machine is so simple! SO SIMPLE! You put your parcel on the machine, press the button for the size of it (whether it is bigger than a standard size envelope), accept the weight it gives you, type in the zip code it is going to, select the postage class and rate (and price), and slide your credit/check card into the machine. It prints out your exact postage on a sticker and you simply apply the sticker to the parcel and throw it in the mail. Voila. And you can even buy stamps through the machine. Brilliant.

And if you work in downtown San Francisco, you can totally go to the post office to mail stuff at this blessed machine on your lunch break. I would highly recommend going to the post office that is located near the Powell Street BART; that is the one that Jenn goes to and maybe you will see her there.

You know what disturbs me? The level of quality of the programming that MTV puts out. It'd be one thing if they shunned music videos in the name of a superior product, but that isn't how it is. At all.

Speaking of, who says that Ashton Kutcher has a daring mind? And for that matter, the show he is "producing," which just assaults the senses with commercial after commercial, looks like something that has already been done before. You want a daring mind in charge of a TV show, call *this guy*.

United Airlines is struggling so hard that they have gone to smaller planes for their flights to LA. How small? On my return trip, before we could take off, the flight attendant actually had to have people change seats so that the plane would be properly weighted so that we could take off and fly with balance and control. Ghetto. It was also so small that people couldn’t even bring their rolley carts onto the plane. Argh.

People that shop at Old Navy are one thing (no comment), but people that rock stuff that says OLD NAVY on it is a pretty tough thing to ignore. What am I supposed to think or say when I see that? So, you shop at Old Navy, eh? You're pretty proud of that? How's that working out for you? As Roni Size would say, REP RA ZENT.

I feel very similar about pooka shells.

POPCORN

Every time I've gotten in Ken's car for the last 3 or so years, he seems to have a Scorpions CD on. And every time he asks me, "Do you listen to the Scorpions?" And I always say, "Yeah, like 15 years ago." Mixed feelings regarding good times...

I can't believe it has been that long. That perspective is borderline depressing. Not to mention the Ken-rocking-out-to-Scorpions-factor.

They have a new premature ejaculation drug that doubles how long you can last before you cum, up to 5 minutes. My first thought was, well that doesn’t seem like much. But for a guy that can only last 1 minute, I guess doubling that is pretty good, relatively. Or something. The funniest part about it is that the drug is based on the chemicals in anti-depressants that inhibit the people's sex lives that are on them (the anti-depressants). I guess that is like turning a negative into a positive, or something.

I didn’t write down the quote, and I have never heard of the author, but the person (Whitney=only a girl's name?) said that we should plant as many trees as possible; they give us the two best things on Earth: books and oxygen. I can get with that. Plus, toilet paper.

OK, I just cleared 8 voice memos whilst having a pint-sized drink on Friday night at 9:30 and now I am ready to hit the town and fill them all up again. With any luck, Brian will be ringing my bell, El Farolito in hand, in like 5 minutes.

And with a bit more luck, I won't get any carne juice on my Friday Night Shirt.

"See you at the party Richter." Is there anything better than a bad guy that guy? Maybe I should rephrase. Is there any kind of that guy better than a bad guy that guy?

"I like to play bad guys, since good guys are always beaten up several times during the movie. Bad guys are beaten only once, in the end."

"I get to bring these misshapen, emotionally unbalanced people to life."

On a fan site, I found the following: "How did he get that scar [on his face]? The distinctive scar was acquired by falling though a plate glass door while under the influence. He made the decision to leave the scar as he believed it could get him more interesting roles."

Fuck yeah, bad guy that guys are supposed to drink heavily and fall through plate glass doors. And you can't have too many scars if you are a bad guy that guy.

Oh yeah, he has fan sites. If you don’t believe me, I think you should click this link to read a beautiful poem that a fan wrote for him. And for the record, the poem could be called, "Ode to That Guy."
Fan appreciation poems could be the next step/level for a that-guy-of-the-week element, but I don’t know if I am prepared to make that kind of commitment.

Ice Planet
All those Splinter Cell movies
Fairytales and Pornography (I just like the title of this one)
The Perfect Storm (with Chest Rockwell!)
Heavy Metal 2000
Starship Troopers (for Bert)
Major Payne
The Next Karate Kid (Did anybody who grew up on The Karate Kid movies see this one?)
Red Sun Rising
Free Willy
Drop Dead Gorgeous
Highlander II
*Total Recall
Watchers
Top Gun
The Falcon and the Snowman
Scanners

In all, he has 134 IMDB film credits.

*Is that really Quato or is that Ben holding a CPR baby mask that I stole?

So I scored a job for the summer, teaching at a charter school in San Jose. The best part about it? My supervisor/boss's name is Jose Arreola. I shit you not. You know I don’t kid around when it comes to one of my favorite body parts.

Structure is nice and all, but how much content are we prepared to sacrifice in its name?

Top 5 rules one might make if their girlfriend was going to a neotropical beach locale with her ex-boyfriend:

1. She may not eat seafood with him (aphrodisiac and deterrent since we all want to eat seafood when we are in a neotropical beach locale).
2. For every drink she has in his presence, she must eat a booger in plain sight of him and everyone else around.
3. She must read printouts of the ramblings of her boyfriend and laugh excessively, pausing to comment about how funny and smart her boyfriend is.
4. Make casual mention at least once a day that her boyfriend has the biggest wiener she has ever seen, including in movies.
5. Call her boyfriend every day, and remind him that he has the biggest wiener she has ever seen, even in movies.
6. Wear a one-piece bathing suit (NO BIKINIS).

I fucking hate it when I am wearing socks around the house (cuz it is cold or whatever) and I step in a little puddle of water. That shit makes me nuts. Gotta change socks. Which is silly cuz you were only wearing socks in the house so that your feet would stay warm--but you have to put on new socks cuz how can socks keep you warm if they are wet (and of course they also feel creepy when wet).

I was booorn to love you
I was booorn to lick your face
I was boooooooooorn to rub you
But you were born to rub me first.
--Ty Webb

Those "team player" shirts that I made have been a bundle of free association fun for people. Although technically it is a low angle shot of a basketball backboard and hoop, the most popular response has been pacifier. I can see that. I have also heard hockey sticks, a sideways version of the Native American symbol for a bird (if Ken didn’t say that, I don’t know who did), and quite a few others. But when Linda saw the shirt, she thought that it looked like a turd on a stick. That's right, a turd-kabob. Medium rare.

Ma only had 1 percent milk in the house, which I am totally fine with. The thing is, you can't switch back and forth between 1 and 2 percent. 1 percent tastes fine if you just stick to it. You get used to it, and it becomes standard. RR, however, is not used to the 1 percent at all. He was complaining about it being too light. So what did he do? He poured in a shitload of whip cream and stirred it in. Dirty boy.

He also wore brand new underwear that he hadn’t even washed yet. Players fuck up too.

Sage and I schlepped all-the-way down to the OC (bitch) to see RR and when we got there, RR was topless and rocking the BlueTooth. Sage was all, "We should take our shirts off too" to me. I was like, "OK, but then we will have to have topless hugs." When RR got off the BlueTooth and came out to say hi, he saw us wearing no shirts and was all, "Hold on. I gotta put a t-shirt on before I give you guys hugs." That's my brother...

by Justin
If you want to be added to the mailing list for future columns or if you wanna give me a piece of your mind, hit the link above or email me at justin@cheesepockets.com