Wubba Wubba Wubba

Oh, damn you MTV and your crappy addictive programming!

It's bad enough I watch every other stupid show on that channel from Nick and Jessica to Pimp My Ride to The Real World, now they have this damned Power Girls, featuring drunken people-crashing Lizzie Grubman and her little PR minions running all over New York City and looking all fabulous at the same time.

I am hooked. And ashamed of myself.

---

Oh, sweet holy lord. VH-1 Classic is showing old episodes of Club MTV (remember when MTV was a MUSIC channel?), and I can not take my fucking eyes off of it. I may be here all day (*editor's note: I have been here all day.I started this entry about four hours ago. Between chatting with internet buddies, and spontaneous bouts of vogueing along with the freaks on tv, I have been here all day). God bless the cheese that is the 80's & 90's.

Jesus, I still remember all the words to "Out of The Blue" by Debbie Gibson.

I just saw the episode featuring Snap singing "The Power". Actually, using the term "singing" is being extremely generous, given that there was no live singing or playing of any musical instruments going on whatsoever. And they didn't even try to be convincing. At some points, it was like watching an old Bruce Lee movie.

---

Speaking of Bruce Lee, a guy came into my office to have lunch with a co-worker (Chris, with the rocket scientist friend).He was about 5'8, and probably about 150 pounds. Didn't look intimidating at all. After the guy left, Chris told me he was actually in his mid 60's (even though he looked to be about 35), and used to train with Bruce Lee back in the day (Bruce Lee used to live in the area I live in), and that on one particular occassion, heand the guy were at this club in L.A., and a few guys from the Raiders (when they were the Los Angeles Raiders) were there.One Raider in particular, a HUGE linebacker, did something to piss off Chris' karate friend (whose name is Pat). The Raider startedthreatening Pat, and it took Pat and his 150 pounds all of about four seconds to have the 300 pound linebacker down on the verge of tears.

Nice.

---

St. Patrick's Day was my absolute favorite holiday all through my 20's. We used to hang out at this divey little Irishbar, and St. Pat's was the only day of the year the cheap-ass owner spent any money on entertainment (aside from hisdaily rants about "cheap fucking Americans",if you count that as entertainment). I used to take the 17th and 18th off work,get there as soon as they opened, and stay til about five in the morning, having drank Guinness and ate corned beef all day. It was so much fun.

The greedy owner sold the bar a few years ago to this white guy who thinks he's a thug, and now it's scary to be anywherenear the place, so we don't hang out there anymore.

I don't do it quite so hardcore anymore, since hangovers have been not so kind to me since I hit 30, but we still had to goout for a couple of drinks and soak in some merriment, dammit. And for some reason, everyone always assumes I am Irish because I have red hair. Of the few hundred Irish people I have met through that bar, only one of them ever had red hair. So this year, we went to the bar that all the Irish people who hung out with us at that bar now hang out at, and it was awesome. Except for when this fat girl in low rise jeans (this is WRONG on so many levels) almost kicked my ass whenshe heard me say to Kay that she had the tramp stamp (the trendy tattoo almost every girl has on her lower back) and we started laughing hysterically. Kay had never heard the phrase "tramp stamp", and when I explained what it was, Brunhilda in the low-rise jeans heard that I was talking about her and wanted to "fucking take this outside." While I am 100% confident in my abilities to handle this chick, I a) am not a fighter, and b) think bar fights are about the most ridiculous fuckingthings ever, not to mention a giant buzzkill. So I bought her a shot of Patron, and everything was hunky-dorey.
I still made fun of her, though.

Kay has told me about a million times over the years that with my mouth I am lucky I am still alive, and that's probably true.

---

Wubba wubba wubba.