December 27, 2011

Trivia Blog: Cat-astrophic Homecoming

These Trivia Blog posts come from the emails I send out as Quizmaster of the Gael Pub Trivia Night every Tuesday.  But seeing as how they comprise most of the writing I seem to do these days, I thought it fitting to include them on the Pale Writer blog as well.  I won't include things like info about categories or drink specials, but will keep the bulk of the rest.  Hopefully you enjoy, so much so that you come out some Tuesday at 8:30 (3rd Ave. b/t 82nd and 83rd)...

A brief reenactment of my encounter with our cat last night after I arrived home from a four-day trip away for the holidays:

Me:  [Walks through front door]
Cat:  FOOD GUY!
Me:  Hey buddy.
Cat:  HI!!!
Me:  Whoa, calm down big guy.
Cat:  I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE HOME!
Me:  Did you miss me or something?
Cat:  I ATE ALL THE FOOD YOU LEFT OUT FOR ME AFTER ONE DAY!!
Me:  What's the matter? Hungry?
Cat:  I HAVE NO PROPER CONCEPT OF TIME, SO I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG YOU WERE GONE, NOR HOW TO RATION OUT FOOD OVER THE COURSE OF FOUR DAYS!!
Me:  You want some more water?
Cat:  HERE, I'LL CHEW ON YOUR SHOELACES FOR YOU!
Me:  Can you get the hell off my shoes, please?
Cat:  I KNOCKED ALL THE THINGS OFF YOUR SHELVES!
Me:  Seriously, get off my shoes.
Cat:  HERE, I'LL KNOCK THE MAIL YOU JUST PUT ON THE COFFEE TABLE ON THE GROUND, TOO!
Me:  Hey!!
Cat:  I'M JUST GONNA YELL FOR A WHILE, OKAY?!
Me:  I'm going to get some pizza, try not to knock anything else over while I'm gone.
Cat:  DON'T LEAVE!!!
Me:  I'll be back in a couple minutes.
Cat:  IF YOU LEAVE, YOU'LL NEVER COME BACK!!  OR YOU'LL COME BACK IN 5 MINUTES, I DONT KNOW!  AGAIN, I HAVE NO PROPER CONCEPT OF TIME!
Me:  Okay, bye buddy.
Cat:  I'LL PUT SOME CAT LITTER ON YOUR SUITCASE FOR YOU WHILE YOU'RE GONE!!

December 20, 2011

Trivia Blog: Phlegm Fatale

These Trivia Blog posts come from the emails I send out as Quizmaster of the Gael Pub Trivia Night every Tuesday.  But seeing as how they comprise most of the writing I seem to do these days, I thought it fitting to include them on the Pale Writer blog as well.  I won't include things like info about categories or drink specials, but will keep the bulk of the rest.  Hopefully you enjoy, so much so that you come out some Tuesday at 8:30 (3rd Ave. b/t 82nd and 83rd)...

I miss breathing through my nose...

A shorter email from your loving Quizmaster this week, most likely, as I'm still recovering from a cold that has been ravaging the delicate temple that is my body for the last week or so.  I don't want to say for sure that one of you filthy people infected me like the monkey from Outbreak last week; all I know is that I left another fine Gael Pub Trivia Night feeling like a million bucks, and I woke up the next morning feeling like those pennies you find under your car seat, the ones covered in McDonald's fry grease and dirt and hooker spit.  Or whatever it is you people keep in your cars.

But while it's been a week of misery and marathon Big Bang Theory viewing from my couch, it's also been a week of reflection.  Here, a few of my cold medicine-induced observations during a week of being sick:
    • When you're still awake at 3:55 in the morning because you can't keep from coughing every 7 seconds, you find yourself amazed that despite the gargantuan leaps we've made in terms of video production over the last decade or so, commercials for phone sex lines remain stuck somewhere in the early 1990s.  I appreciate the fact that these girls are sitting by the phone in their skimpy lingerie just waiting for me to call, but maybe they should take a break to update their hairstyles or learn how to use iMovie or something.
    • For some reason, cats love to sneeze directly in your face when you're sick.
    • Hall and Oates should look to make a comeback by launching a cough drop/breakfast food product called Halls and Oates-meal.
    • When you're completely stuffed up, everything smells and tastes like what that mole on Drew Brees' face probably smells and tastes like.
    • There's nothing that's equally as soothing and unsettling to use as Vicks VapoRub.  It's like smearing a creepy uncle on your chest, but in the end he somehow proves to be an effective nasal decongestant.
    • Waking up and discovering that you've left a cough drop plastered to the inside of your mouth from the night before is a surprisingly mortifying/degrading experience.  It's like the cold medicine equivalent of the Walk of Shame.
    • Even sick people shouldn't be forced to watch the Giants' pass defense.
    • When you decide to finally go ahead and be that guy who wears sweatpants, a stained hoodie, and slippers to Duane Reade, it's unsettling to realize just how okay you are with the whole process in the end.
    • No matter how many extra Blu-ray behind-the-scenes special features you watch along with them, the Star Wars prequels still just... suck.

December 13, 2011

Trivia Blog: Your Own Personal Tesus

These Trivia Blog posts come from the emails I send out as Quizmaster of the Gael Pub Trivia Night every Tuesday.  But seeing as how they comprise most of the writing I seem to do these days, I thought it fitting to include them on the Pale Writer blog as well.  I won't include things like info about categories or drink specials, but will keep the bulk of the rest.  Hopefully you enjoy, so much so that you come out some Tuesday at 8:30 (3rd Ave. b/t 82nd and 83rd)...

A short play...

(Denver Broncos quarterback Tim Tebow sits at his locker, studying his playbook and the Bible simultaneously. Suddenly, a loud BOOM shatters the silence and a bright, white light floods the locker room. A voice, accompanied by a choir of angels, erupts.)

God:  TIMOTHY!!!
Tebow:  (drops books)  By Urban Meyer's buzzcut!! ... Lord, is that you?
God:  Yes, my son.  And I bring with me somber tidings.  Thou art guilty of a great sin, Timothy.
Tebow:  Poor QB rating?
God:  No!! ... Well, yes.  But no, thy sin is of a more biblical nature.  Thou art aware of the First and Second Commandments, I assume?
Tebow:  Uh... First is "I am the Lord your God, thou shalt not have other gods before me," and Second is "Thou shalt not worship any false idols."  But Lord, I am your servant.  How have I offended you?
God:  By becoming more god than man, Timothy!  (sits down next to Tebow)  Look, kid, we appreciate the PR boost.  We do.  Our numbers have been great since thou started winning football games.  Not Inquisition-type numbers, but really solid gains nonetheless, especially in the Mountain states.  But does thou hear what they're calling thou?  "The Mile-High Messiah"?  "Heaven's Heisman Winner"? "Yah-winner"?
Tebow:  I've heard the nicknames, Lord, and while I'm flattered, I'm not trying to be anything more than a good football player and a good Christian.
God:  And again, for the most part, thou art doing a great job, in both departments.  But maybe try and be a bit more proactive in toning down their worshipping of thou, huh?.  I mean, me damnit, they're calling thou "Tesus."  It's really bumming out J.C.
Tebow:  (shocked)  I've made Jesus sad??
God:  Well, he's sensitive.  He had to go through some pretty heavy stuff to be the Messiah; thou've seen the Mel Gibson movie.  All thou had to do was beat the Dolphins.
Tebow:  (hangs head)  I can't believe I disappointed Jesus...
God:   Ah, he'll get over it.  He tends to lean toward forgiveness in terms of overcoming crises.  It's just hard on him.  He got fasting, persecution, and crucifixion.  Thou got national championships, a Heisman, and big arms.  And thy girlfriend's not too bad, either.  Well done there, my son.
Tebow:  Thanks, Lord.
God:  Up top. (high fives Tebow)  Look, I've got to run.  I'm supposed to appear as a character witness at some Catholic priests' trial.  But again, love the work thou are doing, super proud of thou, keep filling those pews and those donation boxes, but, thou know, ex-nay on the essiah-May, comprende?
Tebow:  I will, Lord.  Thank you for the divine counsel.
God:  Word.  God out. (disappears)

The End.

December 6, 2011

Trivia Blog: Gym-iny Dickheads

These Trivia Blog posts come from the emails I send out as Quizmaster of the Gael Pub Trivia Night every Tuesday.  But seeing as how they comprise most of the writing I seem to do these days, I thought it fitting to include them on the Pale Writer blog as well.  I won't include things like info about categories or drink specials, but will keep the bulk of the rest.  Hopefully you enjoy, so much so that you come out some Tuesday at 8:30 (3rd Ave. b/t 82nd and 83rd)...

Maybe I’ll just forget gyms and start training, montage-style, like Rocky did in Rocky IV

As you can probably tell from the muscles bulging from beneath my blazers and ironic t-shirts each and every Trivia Night at the Gael Pub, I’m a man who fancies the occasional trip to the gym.  While living in New York provides all kinds of daily chances for exercise (walking everywhere you go, carrying heavy Trader Joes bags full of groceries up to your 6th floor walkup, sprinting away from oncoming, Pepe le Pew-esque bums who have neither pants nor shame, etc.), it’s nice to get out and work up a sweat every now and again to combat the weekly onslaught of bar trips and brunches.  (Damn you, mimosas.  Damn you to the most delicious circle of hell.)

The problem, however, is that gyms seem to attract a certain level of d-bag, asshole, or disgusting slob that you normally wouldn’t have to encounter in other realms of civilized society.  For these people, for some reason, slapping on a pair of mesh shorts gives them license to forget all that their mothers taught them about how to act around other human beings, and it becomes a sweaty pain in the collective, toned ass of those of us who follow proper gym etiquette.  I dream, sometimes, of the day when I’ll never have to worry for the future of our species over the course of a 60-minute workout.  To that end, I’d like to announce the upcoming publication (pending, you know, a book contract) of my new book, 500 Rules for Not Being a Complete Tool at the Gym: Don’t Work Up the Anger of Your Fellow Man While Working Up a Sweat.  Below, a few excerpts from what’s sure to be a NY Times bestseller…

Rule #74 - You might think it’s okay to leave a sweaty mural of sorts on the seat of the machine that you just finished using.  I’ll even freely admit it’s pretty impressive that if you squint at it in the right light, it sort of resembles Jesus’ face.  But ringworm isn’t fun for anybody, and the only time it’s ever acceptable to plant myself into a moist chair is at some sort of water park.  Or if I’m reenacting a key scene from Flashdance.  Those towels that are provided to you at the front desk are for more than just fanning yourself.  Think of this as a crime scene that you’ve just created, and before exiting, try to confound the CSI team/Dexter by wiping your DNA away clean, okay?

Rule #173 - Staring at the ladies using the leg machines is not cool.  Neither is staring at the fellas when their business slips out of their bike shorts during spinning class.

Rule #289 - That neon-green headband with the matching sweatbands?  No.  Just… no.

Rule #290 - Also no: That “No Fat Chicks” t-shirt.

Rule #352 - Think about the sounds that Arnold Schwarzenegger made when he was thrust into the outdoor atmosphere of Mars in Total Recall.  Think also of the noises/facial expressions that Sly Stallone made while struggling during an arm wrestling match in Over the Top.  Also think about what it sounds like when you accidentally drop a piece of silverware in a garbage disposal.  Now look at/listen to yourself while lifting weights.  Do any of those things resemble you?  Yes?  Stop.  You giant douche.  Please stop.

Rule #415 - It’s accepted that many of you will walk around the locker room sans clothing, letting your bits and pieces swing free like socks on a clothesline (or stockings, depending on your age).  But, as a great episode of Seinfeld taught us, there are so many things that people should never have to witness you doing whilst hanging dong.  Think of your time spent nude in the locker room the same way you view time with your in-laws: lasting only as long as it has to go on and devoid of eye contact as much as possible.

Rule #415b - As an addendum to Rule #415, the following activities (amongst others) are prohibited while naked in the locker room: post-workout stretching, in particular toe touches, deep knee bends, and jumping jacks; long, gesture-heavy storytelling; being Jerry Sandusky; reenacting scenes from the movie Gladiator; manscaping; “innocent” games of grab-ass; hula-hooping; soldering/welding (for your benefit more than ours); the application of oils, creams, and other shiny substances; charades.