I hate you brunch. I hate your frittatas and three egg omelets. I hate your long lines on the Upper West Side. I hate you most in the winter, when I stand outside in the cold while turtle-necked-sweater-wearers sip lattes from over-sized mugs. I hate your policy that my whole party must arrive before I can sit. I hate you in the summer when my iced coffee is just hot coffee poured over ice. I hate your stupid menus and hollandaise sauces. I hate when you add bananas to pancakes. I hate your one shitty sandwich that taunts me with what could have been if you served lunch. I hate that you charge me 29 dollars for two eggs, bacon, and toast. I hate that you think adding the words “Applewood” and “smoked” to bacon make it better. I hate your slow service. I hate that this exists. I hate that despite all these feelings, I’m stuck with you. Because everyone else thinks you’re f*ck!ng fantastic.
Category Archives: regular
Fitocracy Fail
I discovered a HUGE glitch with Fitocracy:

In case you can’t read it, the work out says “eat ice cream” and the activity list says, “no activity found.”
How to be an asshole (user’s guide)
I recently posted a series of intricately-drawn cartoons displaying how people can be assholes. Previously, I detailed the many ways that my father can himself be an annoying asshole. That continued this morning when he called me and we had the following exchange:
Dad: Your drawings don’t make any sense.
Me: Which?
Dad: All of them. But if you explain them to me, I’ll tell you specifically which ones I didn’t understand.
Me: OK. The first was about traffic.
Dad: Yup. Didn’t make sense.
Me: The second was about the elevator.
Dad: That definitely didn’t make sense.
Me: The third was about a hypothetical seven time Tour de France champion who allegedly used performance enhancing drugs.
Dad: Maybe I should go back and look at these again.
So, in case others have had difficulty unleashing the meaning of my (albeit complex) drawings, please find below a user’s guide for each of the posts:
PART 1:
In this drawing, I have depicted a vehicle (pictured in red) driving along the thruway. Approaching exit 12 (depicted as “Exit 12”), the red vehicle sees a line of traffic arranged in a linear fashion. Surmising that the other cars are also trying to get off the thruway, the red vehicle bypasses them and cuts to the head of the line. This maneuver shortens the time period that the red vehicle has to wait to exit the thruway. It also lengthens the period of time that other vehicles have to wait. The red vehicle has violated clearly established rules of the road. Accordingly, I have dubbed the driver of the red vehicle as an “asshole.” Not surprisingly, my dad only exits the thruway in this manner.
PART 2:
In this drawing, I have depicted two individuals standing in the lobby of an office building. In order to differentiate the people, I drew one of them in black and the other in green. If I have offended any green people, I apologize. The drawing is obviously not an actual depiction of a green person and any similarities to greenies were unintentional.
In the first frame of the drawing, the black stick figure approaches the elevator (defined by the textual word “elevator”) and presses the top of the two buttons. I assumed incorrectly that a reader would understand that pressing the top button signals to the elevator that a human being awaits in the lobby and would like to ride the elevator to his next destination on a higher floor.
In the second frame, the green stick figure (who based on his being green is lazy, untrustworthy, unintelligent, and homophobic) has moved to the position closest to the elevator button. At the top of the frame, I wrote “seconds later” to indicate that this action was taking place just seconds after the first frame had ended. Seeing that the top button is lit up red (as indicated by it now being drawn in red), which in elevator parlance means that someone has already activated the button, the green figure presses the button again.
This is an assholish move (as depicted by the word asshole and the red arrow pointed at the green fellow), because the green figure is declaring with his action that the black stick figure’s pressing of the button was inadequate.
After speaking with my dad, the confusion from this drawing came from the descriptive word “elevator.” He calls them vertical people hoisters.
PART 3:
Part 3 depicts an athletic gentleman drinking EPO out of a water bottle and wearing a shirt that says “live strong.” He is standing next to a bicycle. I forgot to label the bicycle by writing the word “bicycle” on the drawing. Also, I forgot to draw spokes, a water bottle holder, a gear-shifter, hand brakes, a helmet, a peleton, a USPS themed sponsorship, or a federal investigation of any characters depicted in the image. Aside from that, this picture should be self-explanatory.
PART 4:
Part 4 depicts a classroom on Friday at 5 pm. I do concede that this post was confusing. As one commenter noted, classes do not typically end at 5 pm. Regardless, what I wanted to show in this picture was that on Friday at 5pm (as indicated by the underlined word “FRIDAY” in the top left corner and the clock (unlabeled) showing the time as 5:00) a teacher was finishing up his lecture. The teacher is the individual that is 2x the size of the pupils sitting in the classroom section.
A caption above the teacher’s head reads, “So, unless there are any questions, that’s all for today’s class.” This is not a direct quote from any class my dad attended or gave during his many years as a teacher. In fact, I made it up. It was a hypothetical statement that a hypothetical stick figure may make to a class made up of stick figure students. One of whom has a gigantic red hand and somewhere between 3 and 9 fingers. The other students have no legs, one arm, no faces, no hair, no book bags, no trapper keepers, no feet, no brains, and no will to live.
In response to the teacher’s statement (quoted above), the student in the first row lifts his/her hand to ask a question. EVERYONE in the world wants to go home at this point and no question is welcomed. A red line from the word “asshole” to the student seated in the front row labels this student as an “asshole.”
PART 5:
Part 5 depicts a row of treadmills (labeled by the word “tread-mill”) in the top left corner. My dad’s fat ass has probably never seen a row of treadmills before.
At the top of the row of treadmills is an athlete (depicted by excellent running form, Boston Marathon wicking shirt, Brooks Ghost 3 sneakers, Camelbak water bottle, and Gu Chomps. Next to this athlete is a row of unoccupied treadmills.
At the bottom of the screen is a stick figure in a headband. In order to show the stick figure’s intended path, I drew a dotted line from the stick figure to the treadmill adjacent to the athlete. I wanted to indicate that, given all of the free treadmills that were not adjacent to the athlete, the stick figure was being an asshole by not respecting the athlete’s space. Everyone in the world wants a one treadmill buffer zone. In fact, I’ll go as far to say that anytime someone is doing something and you wish to do the same thing, choose the option with at least a one space buffer. (For example, movie theater seats, urinals, trains, communal dining spaces).
PART 6:
My dad said he understood this one, so I guess it does not require any explanation.
PART 7:
Part 7 is an unpublished work in progress, but here is a sketch of what you might see in the future depicting ways to be an asshole:
King Rory
Three years ago, I created a mild lunchtime controversy when I proclaimed to a co-worker that “Tiger Woods is as good at golf as anyone in the history of the world is at what they do.” He was understandably outraged by my audacity, but also on behalf of Michelangelo (art), Einstein (physics), Beethoven (music), Hugh Grant (acting), and Rick Reilly (writing columns that infuriate me). Sure, I was being a touch hyperbolic, but at the very least I believed that Tiger would be the best golfer I ever saw. After watching Rory McIlroy’s domination at this weekend’s US Open, I’m wondering if perhaps I spoke too soon.
Through all his off-the-course drama, injuries, and frustrations this season, I’ve remained a huge defender of Tiger’s golf game. He made golf interesting and relevant. You could never count him out of a tournament if it wasn’t over. Everyone remembers Rory’s collapse at the Masters, but what some people forget is that Tiger got that day started by firing -5 on the front nine. No one in this week’s US Open put any pressure on Rory, and the course was there for the taking. Tiger is different than all other golfers because in the heat of competition, he always refused to play the games that most tour players play. He was never shy about having a killer instinct. He was curt with the media. He didn’t engage with fans between holes. He rarely smiled (except to acknowledge how great a shot he just hit). He cursed in front of the camera. Tiger was just always sort of a dick.
On the other side of the spectrum is Phil Mickelson, the man of the people. On the surface, Phil does all the right things. He waves to the gallery. He doles out high fives to every underprivileged youth he can find. He smiles (a lot). He is patient with interviewers. He wears ridiculously inappropriate tight shirts. But I’ve always wondered whether we are seeing the real Phil. It’s a question that’s been asked a lot, as players allegedly call him FIGJAM, as a PGA players survey once split down the middle as to who players would least like to eat with, and as one of the players that other players least want to play a round with. Even oNe16tH and WopGolf hate the guy. With all that mounting evidence, it’s probably safe to assume that Phil’s also a dick, but still, it’s sometimes hard not to root for the guy. He does all the right things.
Even after Rory’s domination this week, the comparisons to Tiger are premature, and it’s too soon to discuss whether this he will break every record in golf. But, if I was trying to stir up another lunch time controversy, I might say that I think Rory has already become my favorite golfer of all time. His swing is as sweet as any of the disgusting varieties of highly caloric snacks I ate while watching round 4. His putting stroke as smooth as the behind of one of the 33 babies crawling around my friend’s house when I tried to watch round 3 on Saturday. But most of all, I think I just like him. He said all the right things after the Masters, but not like how Tiger and Phil used to ”say the right things.” Their inner monologues never came out, but if they did, here’s what I would imagine:
Bob Costas: Tiger, you had a 3 stroke lead at the turn. Then you melted down on the 10th. What happened out there?
Tiger: (internal monologue) (F*ck you, Costas. What the F*ck do you think happened there? I f*cking pullhooked a ball out of bounds and then I wanted to f*cking rip the head off the photographer that clicked his camera just after I f*cking hit the GD ball. it’s his fault.)
Tiger: (out loud) Putts just didn’t fall, Bob. I’m frustrated out there.
Bob Costas: Phil, you had a 3 stroke lead at the turn. Then you melted down on the 10th. What happened out there?
Phil: (internal monologue) (What would a man of the people say here? I’m a man of the people. I should probably say something about the fans. I really am the man at golf. Why don’t I win more? I am so good at this game. I hit a bomb on 13. BOMB).
Phil: (out loud) Well, Bob. I am really disappointed with how I played on the back nine. I really felt the support of the fans out there. I’ll get ‘em next time. Thanks to everyone for the support. It was a frustrating day, and I’m disappointed with the results, but I’ll get after it again soon. I hit a bomb on 13 though.
Some players never come back from a near win in a major (Colin Montgomery). Others would have to answer questions time and again about whether they had what it took to win a major (Sergio). It’s already been said by just about everyone how humble, poised, and gracious Rory seemed after the Masters. But it’s true. And you can’t help root for the kid when he’s got the game of Tiger (without the intensity at the expense of being a real person) and the likability of Phil (without the schtick or the phoniness).
I can’t wait to see what he has in store. Because if it’s what I expect, it’s gonna be a real pleasure to watch.
Ways my dad annoyed me this weekend
Spent some time with my dad this weekend. Here’s a short list of things he did to annoy me (this list is not exclusive):
– Woke me up 7 minutes earlier than I requested.
– Upon waking me up said, “Just want to make sure you have time to shower. But I’m getting into the shower now, so you have to wait.”
– Completely abandoned the use of turn signals while driving.
– Ran windshield wipers long after it stopped raining.
– Got ketchup on his upper lip and chin while eating. Would not wipe it off even after I flashed the international symbol for “you have something on your face.” (pointed to face, said “dad,” pointed to face again, mimicked wiping motion).
– Said he was going to call his internet provider because the internet was not working. Freaked out at first question, “do you have a modem?” Then handed me the phone to deal with the problem.
– Watched TV while I sat on hold for 45 minutes with internet provider.
– After delegating the task of “fixing internet” to me, stood one foot away from me starting the second a live agent picked up the call.
– During a round of golf said “that should be ok” when my ball was actually in the sand trap.
– After eating two burgers and a hot dog for lunch asked me if I could go and get him another burger. The burger stand was literally two feet away from where he was standing.
– On at least eleven different occasions, said “Did I ever tell you [insert story I’ve heard over 100 times]?” I said “Yes.” He then proceeded to tell the entire story anyway.
– Shuffled his feet while walking.
– Answered his cell phone while I was in the middle of a sentence.







