December 21, 2004

If I was to start a pool company I think I'd call it the Aca Pool Company. I can hear the receptionist now. This thought hit me during a weekend lunch.

December 12, 2004

Andy:  Niko! How the Hellenic are ya?
Niko:   Andy, please with this joke. It is very old now.

I love my Big Fat Greek Barber.

November 5, 2004

"What would you like to be called in the office?" It was the oddest question I had ever seen on a doctor's pre-visit form. It was my first visit. I filled out all the information. No, I'm not taking any medication. No, to my knowledge there is no history in my family of scurvy, rickets, beriberi, kwashiorkor or the gout.

The doctor emerged from his office, "Andy, ready?" As I crossed the threshold of his office he followed up with, "Or should I say Sir Alfonse von Lichtenstein." What can i say, A Knight's Tale was on tv the night before.

September 21, 2004

As a little tyke I was outraged to learn that my father ate lunch out every day. EVERY DAY. I simply could not wrap my head around this. Why would anyone do this? How DECADENT. What disregard for the value of a dollar. Was my Dad secretly a millionaire? And if so then why wouldn't that cheap bastard buy me the Teddy Ruxpin He-Man action figure I wanted?

Funny then that now that I'm all gwown up I'd rather die than be a dreaded brown-bagger. To make matters worse my company has 2000 people and 2 microwaves. I have to admit a feeling of disdain and sadness as I walk past the microwaves and the accompanying line of people waiting to use them. It just seems so pathetic and humiliating to me.

I walk past them, downstairs to the restaurant at the base of my building. "The usual, Andy?" she says from behind the bar. I eat my steak roll in solitary bliss and smile when my iced-tea is refilled without me needing to ask.

"Anything else for you today?" she says as she clears my empty plate.
I shake my head no. "Andy Done."

September 17, 2004

I had an hour long conference call today at work in which I didn't really participate, just listened. But then at the end when everyone was saying good bye and signing off I added in a relaxed voice, "Seacrest Out." Someone replied, "what?" and I [boop] disconnected myself. Ever since then I've been ending all conversations with "Andy Done".

July 26, 2004

A night of OZ re-runs and as the credits roll I marvel at the sharpness I've been able to give to my mini carrot stick. Go ahead, double dip in the blue cheese. Give me a reason to shank you, bitch.

I also need something to counteract the amount of penis I've just seen. I know, I'll look into Sweden hotels for my upcoming trip. Ahhh yes, Sweden. Land of the Nobel Prize. Absolut vodka. Bikini Teams. Itty bitty fish. Utter lack of flag originality.

There are so many hotels to choose from and I'm coming to the realization that I haven't done enough pre-trip research to do this properly.

I'm starting to stress out and my surfing becomes frantic and random. Click-click. Click-click. At this point any site with a picture of a cute swedish girl at a reception desk and I'm sold. I hit a fresh site, this one done completely in flash with tantric club music playing. Good lord. But two pages in I see something that stops me in my tracks. I cock my head to the side like a confused dog. What the? The page has text describing their health club but makes no reference to the accompanying image. I take a closer look to be sure I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing. This is too good.

I book the hotel.

July 25, 2004

King size? Yeah, fuck you. You're not king sized. You're just a king sized package with two regular sized pieces of candy laying end to end inside. I opt for the jumbo tic tacs instead. I walk up Summit Hill rolling a giant tic tac in my mouth and I can't help but think of Naomi Watts in 21 Grams.

I start to run up the hill and I wonder if I look gay when I run. I know a lot of straight men who have zero resistance to the gaying effect running has on them.

I make it home, plop on the couch and turn on the tv. The World Poker Tour. B-O-R-I-N-G. The commentator keeps making refeence to a player having a "Jack Off-Suit." A Jack-Off Suit? I need to get me one of those. I'll wear it to the heavy petting zoo.

June 1, 2004

A year after Dr. Atkins' death and people are still blinded to the truth. According to the media Dr. Atkins "suffered a severe head injury after falling on an icy sidewalk while walking to work." Riiiiight. Nothing fishy sounding about that at all. Discarding the theory that the Atkins Diet makes you lose your balance there is only one obvious explanation left. Dr. Atkins was wacked. You think the mafia is going to tolerate a one man army single-handedly bringing zero carb diets into fervent popularity? I think not. They let it go at first but when tables at Vinny's started going empty on Saturday nights, something had to be done. Making it look like a "nice little accident" was never so beautifully executed. You think I'm joking. I'm serious. Like a peak freen. (very serious)

March 7, 2004

How to succeed in business without really trying.

March 3, 2004

I was surprised at how comfortable I felt in Florida. The driving was so relaxed and easy, the signs clear and readable. Even parking at the beach was a breeze and my eyes saw their first clean beach bathroom. The service at the restaurants, outstanding. I was the youngest person in the entire town. A bold eyeliner stick moving deftly among a sea of q-tips.

It was actually nice to get a little sneak preview of the place since I figure I'll be there in 50 years anyway. I mean, I'm Jewish. I'm from New York. Doesn't someone come and get me eventually?

[Knock-knock.] Andy?
I don't want any! Go away!
Andy. It's us. ...It's time. Pack your bags.
Hold on. I'll be right there.

I'm already packed.

March 2, 2004

Harvey Ingalls called again. He called three times over the weekend. Harvey's voice is very unnerving. Imagine the love child of Harvey Firestein and Tom Carvel, throat of charcoal and nails.

He still thinks I'm the VA Hospital. What bothered me this time was that from his messages it sounds like he still hasn't seen a doctor since the last time he called me, and that was several months ago! And although I think he meant it a little sarcastically, his last message said he'd like an appointment "before he dies." I had to call him back if for no other reason than to avoid the guilt of having his death on my hands.

Harvey: Chhhello?
Andy: Mr. Ingalls?
Harvey: Yes?
Andy: Hi Mr. Ingalls, my name is Andy and you keep calling me trying to make an appointment with Dr. Schumack?
Harvey: Yes.
Andy: This actually isn't Dr. Schumack's office. You keep calling my apartment.
Harvey: I know, Andy won't call me back.
Andy: No. I'm Andy. But I don't know who Dr. Schumack is.
Harvey: Oh.
Andy: Do you know the name of the hospital?
Harvey: The VA Hospital. It's on Huntington Avenue.
Andy: Do you know what town it's in?
Harvey: No. But I have the phone number.
Andy: Oh! Great! What is it?
Harvey: 617-232.... (he recites my phone number)
Andy: No, that's my phone number Mr. Ingalls.
Harvey: Is Dr. Schumack there?
Andy: No, this is my apartment. I'm the only one here.
Harvey: Oh.
Andy: How do you spell the doctor's name?
Harvey: Schumack
Andy: Ok Mr. Ingalls. I'm going to try and find the doctor for you and have someone give you a call. But I can't promise you anything though. But that number you have is a wrong number.
Harvey: Oh ok, thank you.

I can think of only one explanation. Ms. Hom has passed on and has been reincarnated as Mr. Harvey Ingalls.

January 4, 2004

I decided I needed an insiprational slogan painted on my wall to start 2004 on the right track. You know, like the ones they have in high school and pro locker rooms. They're painted high up close to the ceiling in big letters and say things like, "Winning Starts Here" and "Whatever It Takes" and "You're in Cougar Country" and "Play Like A Champion".

I drove out to Home Depot and was overwhelmed by the enormity of the store. An entire airplane hangar filled with things specifically designed for tasks I couldn't identify.

I decided to ask for some help. "You! Of finger, hair, clothes, etc. ... where can I find some paint?"

I was directed to the paint aisle where I was again overwhelmed, this time by a kajillion different colors. I took one of the color palettes and fanned them out. I put the spread out fan behind my head like I was a male peacock showing its colors. Cluck Cluck Then I fanned the colors in front of my face and giggled as if I were a coy geisha girl. I looked to my left and saw a soccer mom giggling herself... at me. I put the fan back on its shelf and ran back to the parking lot and sped home.

Back at home I decided that it probably wasn't a good idea to paint the walls anyway. And I didn't need to be all Bob Villa about it, I would do this the old school way. Paper. Marker. Go. Minutes later I was on a chair taping my new signs in a nice border around my bedroom. Perfect.

The work made me proud, and hungry. I picked up the phone, "Play attention. You of cheese, sauce, dough, etc. ... one pizza for delivery please."

[sign 1] [sign 2] [sign 3] [sign 4] [sign 5]

January 3, 2004

This holiday my Mom gave each of my nephews this little remote control car. They're actually neat little cars and the kids loved them. But the best part of them for me were the instructions, written in chinese and also translated in english. One of my favorite pieces of engrish was found under the "Safety" section.

play attention. you of finger, hair, clothes...etc.don't touch and car wheel, in order to prevent quilt harm

Awesome. Unfortunately now I can't stop using this sentence structure when talking to others.

January 2, 2004

I was flipping through my FHM magazine last month and came across a contest called "Be Guest Editor for a Month." The gist of the contest was to send in your 'Ultimate FHM Table of Contents." Winning entry gets to go to their offices and do something editorial-like. Kind of brilliant on their part actually, by running this contest they'll get inundated with magazine ideas which they'll have the legal right to use - in effect having their own subscribers do their jobs for them. And all they have to do for it is humor some jamoke in their offices for a few days. I decided I wanted to be that jamoke. So I sent them this.

January 1, 2004

I have a childhood memory of being in bed when my parents were entertaining guests downstairs. I had already made the obligatory appearance with all the adults, but now it was bedtime. And no matter what the event or who was in attendance, the adult gatherings always had that same distinctive din to them which I could hear from my bedroom. The same ebb and flow of conversation. The sound of forks on dessert plates and occassional spikes of laughter, and that one person who always seemed to laugh a little too loudly.

So there I was on New Year's Eve at my sister's house, the four of us enjoying her trifle. My nephews asleep upstairs. And we're telling family stories, Ms. Hom stories, the same stories told for the umpteenth time but still laughing at them again anyway... and it hit me. Now I was the one creating the "adult din". Whoah. I wondered if I was laughing too loud.