July 31, 2012

Trivia Blog: Fly the Me-Friendly Skies

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)...

Why even have that carry-on bag size thing if you’re not going to use it…

Today’s trivia email will be a shorter one than usual, dear triviagoers, as I just flew in from a long vacation in Denver.  My arms feel fine.  The flight over here got me thinking, the way we lay out rows/seat assignments on planes is horribly flawed.  As always, however, I have the answer.  Going from the front of the plane to the back, here is how airlines should be laying out their planes from here on out:
  • Me
  • The pilots, so nothing’s blocking my view and I can pretend I’m flying
  • Flight attendants, plus a mini bar and decent-sized bathroom that only I can use
  • Bouncy castle area
  • Empty rows, as to provide a sound barrier between me and the rest of the plane
  • Rows reserved for childless people who only want to quietly read until we land
  • Rows reserved for people who will sleep for the whole flight
  • Rows reserved for people who will sleep for the whole flight, but will periodically do that weird twitchy/grunt thing
  • Rows reserved for people who will comment on the items in the Sky Mall catalogue for the whole flight
  • Rows reserved for people who will talk to the person next to them for the whole flight, even if you keep going back to your book during their infrequent pauses
  • Sealed-off area reserved for parents who refuse to do anything about their screaming kids
  • 10 feet of soundproof steel
  • Sealed-off area reserved for aforementioned screaming kids
  • Tail

July 24, 2012

Trivia Blog: Was Van Halen Trying to Tell Us Something...?

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)...

Quick! Someone play that Third Eye Blind song about jumping...

If you ventured over to the Huffington Post today, you might have caught this story about cops talking a man down from jumping off of the Verrazano Bridge after he got into a fight with his 18-year-old daughter.  What you might not have known, however, is that I was the one who was called in to talk to this poor fellow.  Here, for your reading pleasure, is a portion of that conversation's transcript:  

Me:  Wow, you sure know how to keep people in suspension.  
Guy:  What...??  
Me:  Nothing, it's a bridge joke.  Suspension is a type of bridge, one that...  Nevermind.  How you doing today, sir?  
Guy:  She kept yelling at me!  
Me:  Who did?  
Guy:  My daughter!  She's 18.  We had a fight.  I tried to talk to her, but, but she just wouldn't listen.  You know how kids are.
Me:  Actually, no, I don't have kids.  My life is full of me just doing what I want to do, sleeping in until whenever I want, using my money for vacations and buying cool shit for myself.  It's pretty great.  
Guy:  Oh...  
Me:  You know what, forgot all of that.  I'm hearing what I just said and I think it might make you more depressed, and that kind of defeats the purpose of what I'm doing here.  What's your daughter's name?  
Guy:  Ashley.  
Me:  Ashley... Is that with a "Y" or is it one of those weird spellings that ends with an "I" or an "IGH"?  
Guy:  No, with a "Y."  
Me:  Okay, good.  If you'd named your daughter "Ashlii" or something, you might not be worth saving.  But again, sorry, shooting myself in the foot here.  What'd you two fight about?  It's okay, you can truss me.  
Guy:  You mean, I can "trust" you?
Me:  No, I said "truss."  It's another bridge term.  I'm a fan of bridge-related humor.  Yeah, I like to have fun.  Go on, tell me your story.  
Guy:  It's stupid.  
Me:  No such thing as stupid fights, sir.  Just stupid people.  You can tell me.  Come on, take a leap of faith.  
Guy:  Well, we were--  
Me:  You know what?  I'm sorry, I have to apologize again.  I shouldn't have said "take a leap of faith."  Poor choice of words.  You know, because you might jump to your death.  Forget I said that.  Go on with your story.  
Guy:  O-okay...  We were just sitting down to watch TV after dinner and I switched on the Mets game, which I always do because we both love the Mets.  But then she said that she didn't like the Mets anymore because she just broke up with some guy who was a big Mets fan and that the Mets could go to hell.  
Me:  The Mets are in Flushing, sir, they're already there.  
Guy:  I- I don't... Anyways, she said that she wanted to watch some show about teen moms or something, and when I tried to tell her that we'd always watched the Mets together, she just kept yelling at me and then--  
Me:  Sir?  
Guy:  Wh-what?  
Me:  Was this whole fight basically about watching the Mets versus watching the MTV program Teen Mom?  
Guy:  I mean, for the most part, but it--  
Me:  Sir, this story is incredibly boring.  I think I'm gonna go grab a bite to eat.  
Guy:  You're going...?  But...  You are really bad at your job.  
Me:  Yeah, I'm not really what you'd call an "actual police officer," per se.  I just saw something happening on the bridge and--  
Actual Police Officer:  Hey!  What are you doing up there?!  
Me:  Gotta go sir.  My arch nemesis just showed up...  
Guy: ...  
Me:  Really?  Nothing?  Arch...?  Because you're on a bridge...?

The End.

July 17, 2012

Trivia Blog: The Pain of Sweat Stains

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’m sweating like Lindsay Lohan two days into withdrawal over here…

It’s hot outside, folks.  I don’t need to tell you this.  But I did anyways.  Because I can.  What better way for you to cool off and rest your sweaty asses than by coming to the AC-cooled confines of the Gael Pub for another kickass Trivia Night?  You shouldn’t suffer needlessly through yet another heat wave; too many are already.  Our homeless sweat while wearing everything they own on their backs, the hermit crabs of the human race.  Al Roker sweats in Rockefeller Center while delivering the weather report as the fat man who still lives deep within him fights to break free like The Hulk.  Our Upper East Side housewives struggle to keep their faces together as the temperature rises, threatening to have their faces melt like that G.I. Joe I put in our microwave when I was a kid, ruining what was up until then a perfectly good household appliance.

Don’t let these things happen to you.  There are numerous ways to beat the heat, and many outside of the normal ones you’re used to.  Why go for a dip in a urine-saturated public pool or give ConEd hundreds more of your dollar sitting in your air conditioned apartment when you can try these foolproof ways to stay cool:
  • Hop inside one of the freezers that hold the bags of ice in a Duane Reade.  See how long you can last before you lose feeling in your limbs or an employee threatens to call the police.
  • Go see an estranged sibling who you haven’t seen since The Incident.  You know the one.  The cold shoulder that they give you will leave you nice and frosty.
  • Three words: Ice pack underpants.  Your genitalia may crawl deeper inside your body than a gerbil vacationing inside Richard Gere, but you’ll be chillier than a ball-less polar bear.
  • Put one of those misting fans that sit on the sidelines of NFL games in your living room.  Sure, you’ll ruin every piece of furniture and electronics you own and will severely hamper your chances of getting lucky after your next date, but how fucking awesome are those fans??
  • Stare deep into the eyes of the poor bastard who’s portraying the 11th of 12 different Elmos in Times Square, the one who gets stuck over by the strip club that no parents take their kids near.  The loneliness inherent in that guy’s soul will chill you to the bone.

July 10, 2012

Trivia Blog: Don't Not Do What Drugs Doesn't Do

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…

[A stoned man is sitting on the couch watching CNN, a freshly stubbed-out joint resting in an ashtray on the coffee table.]

CNN Anchor:  ”…as New Jersey Governor Chris Christie expressed his disapproval with America’s drug policy.”
Christie:  “The War on Drugs, while well-intentioned, has been a failure.  We’re…”
Stoner:  Whoa…  Did you hear that, Drugs?

[Drugs hops up on the couch with the stoned man.]

Drugs:  Hear what, man?
Stoner:  That fat dude just said the war on you is over.
Drugs:  [looks at screen] John Goodman said that?
Stoner:  I think that’s the guy from Curb Your Enthusiasm, actually.  Larry David’s friend.  Anyways, good news, right?
Drugs:  Yeah, man, I’m glad to hear it.  It’s been a long couple of decades.  I got blamed for EVERYTHING, man.  Bad rock music, school shootings, Tim Burton’s shitty Alice in Wonderland remake… Thank god I’ve had so many staunch allies.
Stoner:  Allies?
Drugs:  Yeah, Willie Nelson, Gary Busey, Robert Downey Jr., Andy Dick, all the people on those rehab shows, most of the entertainment industry, really.
Stoner:  I don’t know if those guys are the sorts of people you want to ally yourself with…
Drugs:  Come on, man, they’re not all bad.  Did you see how much money The Avengers has made??
Stoner:  I don’t know, Drugs.  Maybe Chris Christie’s wrong.  Maybe I shouldn’t be hanging out with you as much as I do.
Drugs:  What do you mean?
Stoner:  Well, I mean, I’m sitting here having a conversation with an imaginary representation of an abstract collection of mind-altering substances.  That can’t be good for me long-term, right?
Drugs:  Yeah, maybe not, but at least you’re not out there, like, blowing up buildings or eating people’s faces off.  You’re just having a smoke and watching old Voltron episodes on Netflix.  The world is full of many great evils, my friend, but a guy sitting on his couch lighting up a joint isn’t even in the Top 5 Million.
Stoner:  True…  Hey, Drugs?
Drugs:  Yeah?
Stoner:  You’re alright, man.
Drugs:  Thanks, dude.  Hey, I’m gonna go ahead and make you forget about your doctor’s appointment at 3:15.
Stoner:  Thanks, Drugs.

The End.

July 3, 2012

Trivia Blog: Happy Birthday, 'merica

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 shorter-than-usual email in honor of pre-Fourth of July shortened workdays…

For those of you fine triviagoers who are still going to be in town and haven’t gallavanted off on some beach-y, barbecue-y trip in honor of our great nation’s birthday, I hope you’ll swing by the Gael Pub tonight for some trivia to beat the heat and get shitfaced for America, since we have no work to go to in the morning.  It’s what the founding fathers would’ve wanted, despite what the Tea Party might tell you.

For those of you who are gone and will be enjoying the 4th in full force tomorrow, however, 1) I hope to see you again next week when you’re back on your normal schedule and 2) please keep in mind the following guidelines/safety tips to ensure that you’ll enjoy your holiday to its fullest potential:
  • Fireworks are nature’s way of weeding out the stupidest and drunkest of our stupid, drunken rednecks.  Nary a 4th of July goes by that we don’t hear of some Miller High Life-saturated step back in the evolutionary chain losing a digit, an eye, or a sad excuse for a life because he held onto an M80 for too long or thought it’d be hilarious to shoot a giant bottle rocket out of his nether regions.  Don’t be like them.  Enjoy fireworks from a safe and non-imbred distance.
  • People will tell you that you shouldn’t overdo it in terms of your meat consumption this 4th of July.  Those people are wrong.  They’re also filthy terrorists.  Be a motherfucking patriot and shove as many former creatures of nature down your gullet as you possibly can.
  • Just because your friend passes out early while the sun’s still out doesn’t mean that it’s okay to write filthy words or draw pictures of penises on his chest or forehead with sunscreen, thus sealing in the temporary tattoo as a reminder of his inability to handle his liquor.  Actually… I take that back.  That’s perfectly fine.  And hilarious.
  • “God Bless the USA” and “Born in the USA” = good.  ”London Calling” and Toto’s “Africa” = bad.
  • Fireworks > parades.  Always.