Rule #2:There is a such thing as Fight Club

In case you’re wondering, I did win the Premiership with Newcastle on Fifa 06.
-I thought this was interesting. It’s from The Washington Times. I found the link on Drudge.
“Dean's Outburst
Democratic National Committee Chairman Howard Dean claims to be reaching out to red-state voters, but yesterday, he suggested that opponents of homosexual "marriage" are bigots.”
Now, I don’t think Howard Dean is good at his job at all, but I don’t understand what Drudge and the Times are going for here. According to the dictionary, which is pretty well known for its spot-on definitions, that is the exact definition of a bigot. Now, I know the dictionary was written by the liberal elite, between trips to the abortion clinic, but I think their definition of “bigot” is probably unbiased. So, I’m not sure what The Times’ point is. It’s like saying, “Howard Dean made a controversial comment yesterday when he suggested that people who play football are football players.” Dean makes at least one stupid comment per week. Stop reaching so far.
-I know this is going to sound kind of dorky, but Sunday night a dream of mine came true. Fight Club has returned… this time with comics. My friends and I used to have a fight club in college, but I hadn’t done anything like that since then, until Sunday. In college, we found a study lounge that was full of mattresses (hundreds of them), broke in and spread them out, so it was a fully cushioned room. No one outside our circle ever found out, and we were able to have fights regularly. Here are links to some pictures of said fights.
A picture of aggression.
A post-fight picture.
Another post-fight picture.
I look 17 in the pictures because I was 17, so shut up.
I know that the first rule of fight club is “there is no such thing as fight club,” but I prefer to let everyone know about it. Regarding the pictures, a member of the current fight club said that if I put them on my site, no one will ever heckle me. We shall see.
-If you’re looking for a good CD, don’t go to a used CD store. Chances are, they won’t have it. My entire Beatles collection was stolen, so I went to a used CD store to save some money. They had zero Beatles albums. Why? Because people only sell things they don’t like. No one is going to try to unload their favorite albums.
I asked the sales clerk if they had any Beatles and his response was, “We don’t have any Beatles, but just got this new Geronimo’s Last Wish CD and their keyboardist is a big fan of Abbey Road. So, it’s not the Beatles per se, but…”
-Who wants to hear a hilarious suicide-gone-wrong story? You do! My brother told me that an acquaintance of his had everything go wrong for a long time. He gave up. Things could not get worse. So, he decided it was time to end his life. And he wanted to do it fairly publicly. So, he had a big flagpole a few feet from the front of his house, that I assume was made of PVC or a similar material. His plan was to tie a rope from the top of the flagpole to his neck and jump out of a second story window. But he didn’t test the flexibility of the flagpole before he jumped… So, when he jumped the flagpole bent and he was left standing in his yard with a rope around his neck, tied to a flagpole. He had also knotted the rope so well that he couldn’t untie it. So he had to stand there as traffic drove by, until someone came over to cut the rope. I think that’s hilarious.

Bad Music

-I think it’s time for the people of video game land to bring Double Dribble to PS2. I had a dream about this game last night. They graphics were up to PS2 standards, but the announcer still said, “Dub-el dwe-bel”
-I was flipping through some channels last night and saw a brief clip of a country music awards show. A woman was singing, and the lyrics were, “Ain't nothing wrong with the bible… Ain’t nothing wrong with the flag… Ain’t nothing wrong with the workin’ man…” Then I turned it off. I think the song is called, “Ain’t nothing wrong with pandering.” It’s off her award winning album, “Fuck Grammar, but Only After You Marry It.”
-I stayed with Andy Kline (his link is to the right) in NY on Monday. After a few Madden thrashings, we stumbled across a show on Discovery Travel, called Hate Rock. I’m not sure why it was on their travel channel, but who cares. It was about neo-Nazi rock bands. And it was interesting. I wish I could remember the names of any of the bands, but I can’t. They were all like “Gideon’s Renegades,” but worse. There was a lot of idiotness going on in the program. Here are some examples:
A) They were all wearing swastikas, which makes sense because they were neo-Nazis. But they also decided to incorporate every other symbol of hatred. For example, they were really big on the Confederate flag, which should put the whole “It’s about states’ rights” argument to rest.
B) One girl was wearing a shirt that said, “Holocaust Survivor,” which prompted Andy to say, “Even through all the hate, they still love ironic t-shirts.”
C) One group had a song called “Kill Pedophiles.” The lyrics had something to do with “stringing up pedophiles in a noose.” This made me mad. Did they run out of people to hate? Did they run out of standard hate-topics? I have to admit that I’m somewhat disappointed that they would hate something that we all hate. Maybe they’re trying to bate people in with the pedophile song. Outsiders hear it and go, “I hate pedophiles too. What else should I hate? Let’s go to track two… Oooh…oooh… that’s what I thought he said… this one’s a little off-base. I’m with them on the pedophiles song though.”
D) At one of the shows, they had a black light over the stage. Andy said, “Do you think some of them objected to the black-light?”
E) Everyone in the show kept talking about how it’s their mission to “stop the Jews from running the world.” Of course, they hated all other non-crackers as well. But the funny thing is that they all live in the mountains of West Virginia and the middle of Mississippi… so they’ve never even seen a Jew, or a black person, or an Asian, or a Mexican. So, I don’t know what they’re basing this hate on (I know it’s ignorance. Keep reading). I’d like to take them all to NY and drop them off so they can meet the people they hate. I think it will open their eyes. “I used to think that Jews ran the world, but I met a nice Jewish fella’ in New Yawk. He don’t even run the Subway he works at.”
-I did a show in Westminster, Maryland last week. When I agreed to do the show, I thought that it was just outside DC. So, I went to Google Maps a few hours prior to the show… that was when I found out that it is 23 miles from Gettysburg, PA. Oops. The crowd was okay. They were offended by my pro-gay marriage stuff, because who needs civil-rights? I also couldn’t do my new Roadhouse joke there. I was going to, but didn’t at the last minute, because I decided that the audience probably thought Roadhouse was a documentary.

This one isn't very good...

-I went out to dinner with Jon Mumma and his wife Amy on Monday. We had pizza. Jon asked me if I like mushrooms on my pizza. Jon, I don’t eat anything that grows on shit. You know that. It’s my only rule.
-Last night was the annual DC Improv Showcase Finals, where the winners of the previous eight showcases competed for a chance to go to LA for a week, and perform at the Hollywood Improv, etc… I hosted the show. Jon Mumma won and Justin Schlegel got second. Hooray.
This was the fourth year of the Showcase. All of them have been sold out, including last night. The crowds are usually great, because at least half of them have friends on the show. But whoever brought the most friends last night needs to get a new batch of friends. I don’t know who it was. But there were about 50-75 people who made the audiences at the Baltimore Comedy Factory feel like a Harvard crowd. They were talking freely between comics, asking questions during jokes, “I went to the store the other day…” Audience member: “What store you go to? My cousin Steve work at Target. They got er’ything. Socks, movies, pralines… You name it.” I’m not exaggerating. These people were beyond retarded. Every time I went up, between comics, I felt like Kindergarten Cop. One time I asked if they had forgotten to take their Ritalin. A guy in the front yelled out, “Ritalin fo’ ADD.” Yes, Ritalin is for ADD. That’s why I said it, you douche. At one point, I had to do a joke between comics to get the crowd back, and here’s how it went down… Ritalin guy thought he and I were having a casual conversation.

Me: A girl I know wanted to introduce me to one of her friends…
ADD: O-KAY! Nice!
Me: So she started describing her to me…
ADD: What she say?
Me: She said, “She’s smart, nice, funny…
ADD: Oh snap, you know what that means!
Then I finished the joke and tuned him out.

At the end of the show, when I was announcing the winners, this guy and several of his friends booed. I have never seen that happen anywhere, much less a comedy show. They are the type of people who go to little league games to start fights.
Here’s the kicker. Joe Robinson, a very funny comic who finished third, asked him what he does for a living. He’s a cop. There is no way that this guy’s IQ is over 60 and he’s a cop. So, contrary to popular belief, last night we found out that cops are stupid assholes. I’m shocked.

-I was at the bank last week, depositing a check. It’s a quick transaction. I don’t know what other people do at the bank, but it always takes them at least five times longer than it takes me. I’ve always wondered this. Everyone else always seems to be having some ordeal to handle. I’m just depositing checks.
Last week I got a peek at one of these long transactions. I overheard the woman in front of me say to the teller, “300 in twenties. None of the new twenties either. I don’t trust them.” Then the teller went fishing for old twenties. I didn’t know that we had this kind of power at the bank. I can guarantee that in the future, yours truly will be flexing some of his hard-earned account holding muscle. “200 dollars. All quarters. No Delaware quarters either. I don’t like corn.”
-The wait is over. I am now officially connected to the cinematic classic Soul Plane. We all wish we could say that. I can. That’s the difference between you and I. On Saturday, I opened for Kevin Hart, star of Soul Plane at Rochester Institute of Technology, which, believe it or not, is in Rochester. The show was held in their gym, which I felt weird about when I first heard about it, because of bleacher seating. But it was great. They put chairs on the floor and built a stage in the front. I was picturing it to be set up like a high school assembly/pep rally, since that was my only experience with shows in a high school gym.
It caused me to have flashbacks to high school assemblies. I think the most memorable was the one on drunk driving. A guy who was parapalegic, due to a tragic accident in which he was hit by a drunk driver, spoke to us. It really did its job, scaring us out of drunk driving. But, the thing that stood out to me was that he was parapalegic and he drove an enormous van. The gas, break, gears, and steering were all controlled with one hand. I think that sounds even more dangerous than drunk driving. So, in addition to not drinking and driving, we should also try to avoid being hit by a drunk driver. Insensitive, but true.
-I went to a coffee shop/kiosk thing at BWI airport a couple days ago. I ordered a mocha, and wanted a pastry as well. They only had four to choose from. I asked the cashier, who never made eye contact during the whole transaction, what was in one of them. She didn’t know. She didn’t even attempt to investigate either. She just said, “I don’t know. It’s got stuff in it.” I got it anyway, because I like stuff in my Danishes. Here’s the part that made we want to stab her: After I paid, still no eye contact up to this point, she slid her tip cup from the other side of the register and put it right next to my hand on the edge of the counter. So, as a notice to any coffee shop cashiers reading this, if you don’t know the contents of one of the four items that you sell, you get no tip.

Florida Burning

I have been away for a while, and it’s time to write a new series of words. As a side note, I’m going to start posting some of my favorite blog entries on my myspace page.
The new series of words begins now…
-My little brother, TJ, 9, got mad at my brother Joaquim, 13, and said, "If you call me a snitch one more time, I'm telling mom."
-A message for Phoenix Suns coach, Mike D’Antoni: Shave your mustache. You look like a DARE officer. It’s too late. Your players already smoke weed.
-I have a joke about ryanconner.com being a porn site, but for some reason, I’ve never mentioned why I didn’t get ryanconner.net for my site. I think it may be just as funny as the porn star story. It belongs to a guy in Des Moines, who shares my name. Does he have the site to advertise for his company? No. Does he have it to promote his music career? No. Does he have the site because he writes a popular blog? Not at all. There has to be a demand for the site, or else he wouldn’t have it, right? Of course there’s a demand. I’ll tell you what’s on his site, and I think you’ll understand its necessity.
Ryanconner.net includes his picture, phone number and a timeline of his life, which includes a series of enthralling events, such as: Joining the Boy Scouts, an account of every time he’s moved, the time he babysat for someone, and who could forget the time his step-dad remarried? He also has converted to Christianity, making him the final Des Moines resident to accept Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. This happened shortly before his aunt Pat died, and while he was working for the school system as a computer consultant. That sounds like a great time! This was, of course, followed by a whole lot of churchin’ it up, which brings us right up to his recent 26th birthday. Happy 26th, Ryan Conner of Des Moines. Thanks for taking my website. I appreciate it, and I’m glad you need it.
By the way, I’m sure he’s a nice guy.
-The Wizard of Oz does not sync up with Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon. The next time a pothead tells me that, I’m taking his hacky sack.
-I did a show at the Bethesda Hyatt a few weeks ago. The room was full of old, rich white people. This demographic tends to dislike me. I did my joke about a guy being a Subaru enthusiast, and they were clueless. They stared at me like they didn’t even understand the words that came out of my mouth. I think one guy actually said to his wife, “Subaru? Isn’t that the name of the Chinaman who does our shrubs?”
-While we’re on the subject of racism… I was in Florida last weekend.
I wasn’t expecting over-the-top racism there, but I saw it like I had never seen it before. When someone is racist, no matter their race, they assume that everyone else of their race feels the same way. This leads them to share their ignorance. On one hand, it sucks because I’d like to think people don’t think like that any longer. But, on the other hand, it’s great because I get to find out whom to stay away from.
The first racist thing happened in the hotel restaurant. The manager, a white woman in her 40s, approached our table to ask how the meal was. She had an accent. When asked about it, she said she was from South Africa. Within ten seconds, she had flipped the racism switch and said, “I don’t understand how Mandela was elected… not for racial reasons, but the man is a terrorist. He killed innocent people. He should be in jail.” I didn’t realize people still held this belief. I think it’s the South African version of racist southerners who still insist that the Civil War was over state’s rights. Let’s breakdown what she said.
“I don’t understand how Mandela was elected…” – Probably because he helped bring an end to apartheid, which was a means of oppression for 80% of the country. That 80% most likely voted for him.
“…not for racial reasons” – Whenever someone says, “not for racial reasons,” what they mean is, “totally for racial reasons.” That’s like saying, “I’m not trying to be a dick…” But that’s exactly what you’re doing.
“…but the man is a terrorist. He killed innocent people. He should be in jail.” – Ooh. I’m not so sure about that. He was convicted by the same people who forcefully segregated blacks, forced them to carry Passports in their own country, denied them of decent jobs, controlled 87% of the land, and randomly killed them as they pleased. Sure, he may have killed people, but I don’t think it counts when you’re leading a revolution against legalized racial oppression.
We got serious for a moment.
The second racist episode was a little funnier, since apartheid wasn’t involved. It was more based on pure ignorance.
A girl, whom we’ll call Kristina (since it is her name), worked at the theatre where we were performing and wanted us to hang out with her and her friends after the last show. We were pretty sure we weren’t going to hang out with them, but we would give her a ride to her friend’s house anyway. She was quiet and seemed nice. Then the Smirnoff Ice started flowing. First, she started talking about how she grew up privileged and never needs to work a day in her life. I wanted to tell her, “Your parents are rich, not you.” When someone earns their money, they tend to downplay it. When a young, dumb slut has access to someone else’s money, they love to brag about it. When she got tired of talking about her riches, she moved on to talking about how hot she is. It should be noted that she was barely above average. If looks were an NBA team, she’d be the 4th player off the bench. We had already committed to taking her to the friend’s house though, and we figured we could put up with it for a little while longer.
We got into the limo as she was telling a friend on her cellphone that she was getting into the limo with us. SHE IS SOOOO KEWL, LOL, BRB, WTF, BOGHGHDHDF!
Less than two minutes after getting into the car, she started bragging about the fact that she went to University of Florida, which is a lot like bragging that you’re wearing GAP jeans. Anyone can do that, and no one cares. Because I wasn’t talking, she started making fun of the fact that I’m from Virginia by saying that the Blue Ridge Mountains are boring. Now, you can make fun of me and call me names. But when you start insulting mountain ranges, that’s when it starts to hurt. LOL WTF CUNT (Can’t Understand ‘Noying Twats) ;) BRB LOL!J>
When she finished with her cutting-edge landscape roast, she goes back to talking about University of Florida. In a moment that changed my life, she actually said, “Florida is the Harvard of the south. That’s what people call it.” We started laughing hysterically. “Whatever, you guys. Whatever! It is. It’s like the best school there is. Fuck Miami and UCF. The Gators are the Harvard of the south.” If I could make stuff like this up, I would be the best comic in history. Harvard of the SOUTH? That’s like calling Berry Blue the champagne of Kool-Aids.
She kept repeating crap like that for several minutes. No one cared. It was ridiculous. The irony of an idiot bragging about how great their school is, is a delicious brand of irony. Goes well with gravy.
She would not stop talking about it. To validate her claim, she started talking about their admissions standards, which is a conversation that no one ever has once they have been accepted to a college. Why would anyone care? She said, “You have to have a 1300 on your SATs and a really good GPA to get in.” I said, “1300 isn’t really that high. It’s pretty good, but you need 1500 or higher to get into Harvard. 1300 is usually the standard for a decent state school.” That really pissed her off and prompted her to shoot back, “Whatever. My friend got a 1300 and was valedictorian, and still didn’t get in.” Colin Quinn, whom I was opening for, replied, “I thought you said you can get in with a 1300?” Without hesitation, she looked at the color of our skin, to make sure we were all members of the gringo club, and said, “Yeah, well he didn’t get accepted because he’s white… fucking affirmative action… don’t even get me started on that.” So, I said, “I know. What’s with everyone trying to oppress white people these days?” She thought I was serious. How can she think that, especially living in Florida. I’m white and I admit that practically everything in this country is catered to white people. You can’t deny that.
She asked us what colleges we went to. I told her I went to George Mason. She told me that SHE beat ME in the Final Four, as if we were on the teams. BURN! Colin told her that he went to Harvard, which northerners affectionately refer to as the University of Florida of the North (By the way, nothing says “scholarly” like that Gator mascot). She didn’t believe it. So, he said that he actually went to DUKE on a lacrosse scholarship. This was no more than three minutes after her last Jim Crowe, and she was on a bigot roll. She actually said, “Yeah, that is total bullshit. There’s no way those guys raped that girl. It’s obvious she’s saying it because she’s black and the players are white.”
I said, “So, you’re saying that black girls fake rape because they’re black?”
“Yeah. It’s bullshit. They go to DUKE, so the guys are rich and she wants money.”
“They are scholarship athletes. They aren’t rich. Besides, accusing someone of rape, isn’t a very effective method to get money. First, you said race, and now you’re saying money…”
There were a couple more exchanges, until we finally got her out of the car. And what did we learn? New stereotypes. The new list of black stereotypes, according to Kristina the bigot, is: chicken, watermelon, orange soda, can’t swim, plays basketball and most of all, they’re all a bunch of rape fakers.
So, move over John Starks. Kristina has taken your place as my most-hated human being on the planet.
-At a bar in NY, Andy Kline and I saw a guy wearing a shirt that said, “My Goal is Your Hole.” I have a feeling that the shirt may prevent him from attaining his goal. Andy took a picture of the shirt. Bye-bye.