Tha Ill-a-delph, profiling, and fun.

-Sometimes I hear people say things through the windows of my apartment that I can't fathom hearing anywhere other than northern New Jersey.

I was in my living room last Sunday, reading a book, when I heard from a group of girls who were walking by, "Thank god for her that I got big ol' FUCKIN' toes and you can't notice it." What does that mean? She put so much emphasis on "Fuckin'" that the statement sounded sexual in nature. Re-read it with that in mind. Weird, huh? A little uncomfortable?

I've mentioned the construction outside my bedroom window, and the construction workers' silly games having to do with who has the hammer. They constantly rip on each other. But the insults are sub-yo' mama caliber. This morning, after two hours of what sounded like people throwing bricks through glass, I heard, "Hey, stop fuckin' around. That coulda hit me." At this point, there was a long pause as the guy was trying to think of an insult. With this much time, there's no way his insult wouldn't be killer. It was. He said, "You fuckin' banana-nosed parakeet... parakeet... banana-nosed... Polly want a cracker? Hey, do Polly want a cracker? Aww shit." I don't know if the banana-nosed parakeet is a species of parakeet, or if this guy is just hilarious. Either way, I'm glad he's working eight feet from my bed.

-The person who came up with the idea of the unicorn did a lot of drugs and was great at marketing. Not only did they think of a horse with a horn, but they also convinced the world that there is a market for them.

-We shot the pilot for Crucial Element last weekend. This meant that I was dressed like this all weekend.

If you don't believe that the police profile people, check this out. Until this weekend, the only times in my life in which I've had to talk to a police officer were when I got three speeding tickets, and at family reunions when I would talk to one of my uncles. In four days of shooting, I got stopped by police FIVE TIMES and had to deal with security once. The security was legit. One of the interactions with police was sort of legit. The others weren't at all. I'll put details in the next blog.

-In the most depressing event of my life, I paid $150 to not see The Smashing Pumpkins. As I've stated before, I consider their music to be a combination of everything that is good, Hawaiian Punch included. Well, I had two weekend passed to see them at the Virgin Festival in Baltimore. That cost me $400. Things came up and I couldn't go. Because it held 80,000 people, it didn't sell out, and I had to sell the tickets for $250. So, I essentially paid $150 to not see them. Depressing.

-I meant to write this a couple weeks ago, when I was in Philadelphia.

I'm in Tha Ill-a-delph. That was my Stuart Scott impression. He actually says that on occasion.

I also meant to write about this while in Philadelphia. There was a really good diner next to my hotel. I went there three times. The first two were great. The third was a different story. I decided that I was going to have French toast. When the guy dropped off my drinks, I asked for French toast. He said that I would order from someone else. When the waitress came over, I tried to say, "I'll have French toast." But somehow it came out, "Cream chip beef, please?" As she walked away, I panicked. What did I just say. I started looking around, assuming everyone would be looking at me like, "What did he just order?" Sure enough, they were.

After a couple minutes, I was able to calm down. I'm originally from the sort-of-South. I've been around cream chip beef before. It's not horrible. It's just weird beef with some type of cream, on toast. Then the plate came out. Holy shit, it was a huge pile of white cream, with specks of beef scattered throughout. I thought the emphasis was on beef, not cream. The cream:beef ratio was about 20:1. The cream rose about four inches above the plate. Why would anyone need that much cream? What is cream?

I ate almost all of it. I hated every bite. But for some reason I wanted to impress the other customers. This was something I'll call a "dumb move," as I shat about six times that day. Yeah, I like to close my blogs strong.