Thursday, December 21, 2006


For my 100th post, I provide you with something simple, yet grand. I just found the new trailer for the Transformers movie. Me so horny. Click the original Autobots logo for some viewing pleasure.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Job Hopping

I’ve officially been at my job for six months now. This is a big milestone for me. As many of you know, I’m a habitual job changer.

My work career started shortly after I received my driver’s license. At the time, I was still getting an allowance, though I don’t remember the exact amount. I imagine it was about $20 per week because when my dad asked me to find a job, I was content with doing the exact opposite and not trying at all. They also provided me with a Mobile Speedpass, so I could gas up my 1992 black Dodge Daytona hatchback with sunroof, power windows, and power seating.

After about 2-3 weeks of stalling and fabricating excuses for not finding a job, my dad walked down to the basement, where I was watching TV, and bluntly told me, “You better find a job because I’m cutting you off.” Then, he just turned around and walked away before I could give even respond or complain. And that pivotal moment forced me to join the workforce. (Please note that even though my parents stopped my allowance, they still paid for the gasoline, which cost about $1.10 per gallon at the time.)

From the time I was 16 through the age of 21, when I graduated college, I had 9 part-time jobs. I worked at Home Bakery, BD’s Mongolian Barbecue, Steve & Barry’s, Michigan Book & Supply, Michigan Telefund, U of M Recsports, Godiva, the Michigan Daily, and Ann Arbor Learning Community. Keep in mind, this was all in addition to my freelance work as a test participant for the Psychology department. I couldn’t stay away from the $10/hour and the bonus money for doing really well on their tests.

There was a very lucrative pain study, which I didn’t have the courage to complete. Basically they were going to pay me $1000 for a four part test. I’d get some kind of brain scam—CT, PET, etc. I’m not really sure which one, but they’d pay me $250 for it. I would return so they could wire me up, and then inject my jaw with saline. This was another $250. They’d scan my brain once more for another $250. I think the last part was some sort of evaluation, for which they’d pay my last $250. Even though they told us that people who’d previously done the study didn’t think the pain was that bad, the prospect of injecting my jaw with saline just wasn’t that appealing.

After college, I worked for Target Corporation in Minneapolis. No offense to my friends from Minneapolis, but Target sucked and so did Minneapolis. It even disgusts me that I have to mention Minneapolis four times in this paragraph. From day 1, I had apprehensions about the job. I completely did not fit in with that corporate culture, nor was I even good at merchandising. Unmemorable city + miserable job = me quitting after four months.

While I was still in that city that I no longer wish to name, I made the decision to move to the Philippines for four months from December-April. My uncle had just opened his own ad agency, and he told me I could intern. Obviously, I jumped at this opportunity. Why wouldn’t I want to return to The Island for four months, see my family, eat tons of delicious food, and get some work experience? It was a no-brainer.

Though I wanted to stay longer, I had to return home. The GF was waiting for me (I think), and my mother called me about five times during my last two weeks to make sure I was still coming home. She knew I was having the time of my life and was scared I wouldn’t come back.

After searching for jobs at home and making a one week excursion to NY to look for jobs, I realized that moving to NYC would be my best bet to find a job. So, to my parents’ and friends’ complete surprise, I decided I was moving to NY. I packed up two suitcases and moved within two weeks of my decision. I eventually found a job at DRAFTFCB.

Everything about working here has been great so far. I don’t think about looking for a new job that often. Money could definitely be better elsewhere, but I feel good about staying here long enough so I can put something on my resume that I don’t have a BS excuse prepared for when an interviewer asks why I was at a job for such a short period of time.

Hopefully, I don’t jinx myself and get fired next week. I would at least love to make it to 2007.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Back for the Holidays

One of my most loyal readers, Boris Boots, has been checking The Dirty Burrito everyday since my last post. Unfortunately, that last post went up before Thanksgiving. Boris threatened to stop reading The Dirty Burrito, so I promised him a holiday-themed post before 6PM today. It’s the loyal readers like Boris Boots that make it a pleasure to get off my butt on my day off and write for you lovely people. (Side Note: I’ve never met Boris Boots. I don’t even know what he looks like, or from where he originates. I only know that Boris Boots is not his real name, he is a friend of my friends, and he loves checks my blog everyday.)

With all the holiday music I hear in stores and the radio and all the decorations I see on the street, I can’t help but think of my favorite Christmas movies and songs. Today, I will give you my favorite Christmas movies and songs.


1) Love Actually

I know what you’re thinking. “That’s a chick movie.” “Is he gay?”

No. I am not gay, but you are probably correct in your categorization of Love Actually as a chick movie—there were several romantic storylines. However, this movie was thoroughly enjoyable.

For starters, it had an All-Star cast that included the likes of Hugh Grant, Liam Neeson, Colin Firth, Keira Knightley, and a cameo by the legendary Billy Bob Thornton. (Why is Billy Bob Thornton legendary? He slept with Angelina Jolie for an extended period of time. And, to my recollection, none of us can claim that feat.)

You’re an asshole if you weren’t rooting for that young boy to succeed at learning drums so he could play for his crush during the Christmas talent show. Also, I found the secretary, who was pursued by Hugh Grant, to be pretty cute. Colin Firth playing his classic Colin Firth role of a loveable, self-conscious idiot was genius. Lastly, who could forget the scene with Hugh Grant dancing to “Jump” by the Pointer Sisters?

2) Elf


3) Home Alone

Not only did this movie make me want to come up with contraptions to stop potential criminals in my house, but it also reminds me of the first time my mother warned me about the dangers of Playboy.

You probably remember the scene where Kevin first realizes he’s been left home alone, and he’s going through all of Buzz’s stuff. He finds a Playboy and is awed at the sights on the inside pages. I was around 8 years old when I first saw Home Alone, so I had no idea what Playboy was, nor should any 8 year old know what it is. In any case, my mother, being protective of her baby, her first born, took this opportunity to tell me that I should never look at a Playboy. As any inquisitive child told not to do something, I asked, “Why?” She responded with something along the lines of “It’s bad. It’s not a nice magazine.”

At that point I dropped the subject and continued watching the movie as I admired how he set up all the mannequins to make it look like there was a party going on in the house. I wish I were that clever in my youth.


1) “Last Christmas” by George Michael

Just because George Michael gets caught lewd acts in Los Angeles park bathrooms, it doesn’t mean that he does not have a superb voice.

2) “All I Want for Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey

Vintage Mariah on fire. She was a very close 2nd to the lead singer of Wham! This song also was heavily featured in my favorite Christmas movie, Love Actually.

3) “The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don’t Be Late)” by Alvin & the Chipmunks

Who knew chipmunks could hit such high notes?

I have some ideas for a few December posts. I swear I won’t leave you hanging for another 18 days.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

I Hate OSU

OSU sucks. I hate them.

P.S. I'm semi-intoxicated and have Photoshop.

Go Blue!

I could barely sleep last night. The anticipation for the UM-OSU game was too much for me to handle. I felt like a kid, who couldn't sleep the morning before Christmas, because he couldn't wait to open presents.

I went to the gym this morning with my blue Michigan cut-off and my maize soccer shorts. Another Asian guy walked in 20 minutes later with his maize football shirt and blue basketball shorts.

Hopefully, Bo's words will ring true: "Those who stay will be champions." I can't wait.

I'll be at Professor Thom's. Where will you be?

Friday, November 17, 2006

Thanksgiving and Me

As many of you know, I’m not a native of The Americas. I actually came from The Island. I moved to Michigan when I was 5-years-old, around December of 1988. My mother, brother, and I never celebrated a Thanksgiving. Luckily, my dad had actually spent a couple years in Ohio in his youth because my grandfather completed his grad studies at The Crappy Ohio State University, so he most likely celebrated a Thanksgiving or two. I’m fairly certain he introduced us to this great American tradition.

Basically, I’ve never had any close connection to Thanksgiving. I drew cornucopias and pilgrims in grade school just because the teachers told us to do it, and I always did what my teachers told me. Not surprisingly, this is also the reason I received good grades and had no friends.

We would make Native American headdresses out of construction paper and macaroni jewelry in school. Looking back, this was hugely insulting. If you were a Native American, how would you feel if a bunch of white kids (who stole your land) and a sprinkling of other minorities made crappy mock-ups of accessories that you hold very sacred? And to top it all off, they did it to celebrate a holiday to commemorate how you and them became “friends” and “gave thanks.”

Speaking of giving thanks, I always hated Thanksgiving movies where families would give thanks. These movies have a family or group of friends that somehow get into some ridiculous argument and nobody is talking. Then, everyone makes up in time for Thanksgiving dinner because they realize how lucky they are to have each other. To make it really heart-warming, they hold hands in prayer and go around in a circle saying something about how thankful they are for something really cheesy.

My question with that giving thanks scene is, “Does that really happen?” I’m serious. If anyone can shed light on this subject, I’d like to know if this is just a Hollywood creation or if American families really do this. Please, please let me know.

I remember in 3rd grade, we baked some “homemade” corn bread. The teachers said it was homemade, but I bet it came from a box. How are 100 3rd graders supposed to make homemade corn bread? Also, I was a bit confused about corn bread. It looked like a muffin, but didn’t taste like a muffin. And it was called bread, but didn’t quite taste like bread. It was weird, but tasty.

The term “homemade” was one of those things that baffled me as a child. Kids would come to school and brag about their “homemade” cookies. I never got what was so good about “homemade” stuff. Sure, they were good; but I was, and still am, quite satisfied with a bag of Chips Ahoy. I can easily finish a bag in 4 hours and feel good about myself. I think the reason I was confused about “homemade” is because Filipinos never bake anything. We buy Chips Ahoy if we want cookies. (Back in the day it was only Original or Chewy; I praise the heavens for all the Chunky varieties.) I also don’t ever recall seeing anyone eat a muffin as a child. In fact, when I was there for my 4 month advertising stint, I didn’t see anyone eat a muffin.

Normally, a family friend will have a Thanksgiving party and everyone will come over. No one wanted to take on the task of hosting a minimum of 20 people this year, so my mom is cooking. She called me this past Sunday to ask if I wanted turkey. I gave a resounding, “NO!”

I definitely said, “I don’t want turkey or any of that crap. Just make a whole bunch of Filipino food and give me some rice.”

She just started laughing and said, “Oh my God! You’re brother said the exact same thing.”

I said, “Yeah. We don’t want that crap. We’re only home once in awhile, and we want something tasty. I need rice.”

To summarize my ramblings, cornbread confused the hell out of me, I still don’t know if people actually do the “give thanks” ritual, Native Americans should be up in arms over the celebration of Thanksgiving, and I love rice. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because I get to eat a lot of food. I hope you all eat as well as I will on Thursday.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Only in Cabo...

It’s that time of the year again—the Laguna Beach spring break in Cabo episode!!! The name of the episode was “Only in Cabo…” As much as I love Cabo, MTV needs to find a new location just for the sake of creating a new name. I think the “What Happens in Cabo, Stays in Cabo” or “Only in Cabo…” names are getting old. I think they should go to Daytona Beach, Florida. MTV needs to return to its bread & butter. I remember seeing footage of MTV Spring Break in Daytona Beach with hairy-chested dudes and girls with crimped hair rocking out in front of the stage as Jefferson Starship played “We Built This City.” Those were the days. Plus, the name could be something totally new like “What Happens in Daytona, Stays in Daytona.”

There were so many laugh-out-loud moments. It all started with Breanna, the much less attractive, younger sister of the very attractive but devoid of personality, LC. (Side note: I know she now goes by Lauren ever since she stopped filming Laguna Beach, but The Hills sucked so much that I refuse to address her by anything other than LC. She also needs to go back to her bread & butter and start calling herself LC again. Maybe it will improve the quality of the second season of The Hills.) Breanna set a goal of hooking up with D-Rock, and she accomplished it. I’m proud of her.

Speaking of D-Rock, he, to put it in his words, “totally spit mad game” in Cabo. He went on the trip with the goal of hooking up with either Lexie or Breanna. Due to the fact that his friend, Kelan, was trying to creep (their words, not mine) on Lexie, he made the respectable buddy move by stepping aside and letting his buddy have a crack at Lexie while he made out with the equally eager Breanna. That was such a sweet line he threw at Breanna. I believe it was something along the lines of “I want to kiss you but I don’t want you to fell awkward.” This was followed by Breanna lacking complete coyness and saying, “I don’t care.” D-Rock, the spitter of mad game, leaned in for the kiss, and Breanna basically threw her face at him like a bird going for a crumb on the sidewalk. It was true Cabo romance.

What about D-Rock’s boy, Kelan? I felt bad for the poor guy. It seemed completely awkward for everyone involved. It was totally gnarly. (Side note: I’m going to commit to speaking like these people. I love the way they talk. They decided to go back to the same club because it was raging. I’m so amped to use my new vocabulary!) The chemistry between Kelan and Lexie was about as successful as two positively charged particles trying to attach to one another. (Is that even the correct analogy?) All I can say is that Paula Abdul was incorrect. Opposites do not attract. Tortured rocker + ambitious dancer = Kelan yelling to D-Rock, “I just don’t have the fucking balls!” This is followed by D-Rock retorting with, “Do you want me to grow them for you?” Keep in mind this all happened immediately after Breanna and D-Rock made out, and Breanna went to Lexie to try to see if she wanted to hook up with Kelan. Lexie just nodded her head in disgust. There wasn’t even any hesitation. This was all done right in front of Kelan. Poor guy. He’s going to have “I just don’t have the fucking balls” jokes following him for the rest of his life.

Some other highlights from the episode:

§ Cami and her ridiculous sailor hat. What was she thinking? By the way, she looked really skinny. I think she spent the 2 weeks prior to spring break on the elliptical for 2 hours a day, while she fought off her hunger with carrots and celery.

§ Cameron coming up with my 2nd favorite quote of the night: “Cami, your boobs are popping out.” That quote had nothing to do with anything. Cameron wasn’t even in the shot; it was just a voice over. His tone was one of complete appall.

§ I’m convinced Tyler and his buddies are constantly coked out. He hangs out with Jason, who supposedly didn’t graduate from high school and had to go into rehab for a coke addiction. Both always seem strung out, and live off their families’ wealth. What a life.

§ The parents coming along for the trip. That was a complete surprise. I’m guessing that after seeing the first two seasons of unsupervised, MTV-sponsored debauchery, the parents wanted to try and put an end to it. I wonder how it was decided that Kyndra’s and Tyler’s parents would go on the trip. I’m guessing that MTV stipulated in contracts that they had final say on chaperones, and they picked those parents because they were the most oblivious to the drinking, drugs, and sexual escapades of the rager that is the Cabo spring break scene.

I haven’t written about Laguna Beach in awhile. I thought you would enjoy my return to my bread & butter. See you next time.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Gray's Papaya

I play futbol one night a week all the way on the west side of the city. I usually walk there and back. It’s nearly 2 miles, and it serves as a nice warm-up before the game and a refreshing cool down after the game.

Three weeks ago, on my way home, I stumbled upon a Gray’s Papaya. This was a prize find. One night a week, I get 2 hot dogs with onion, sauerkraut, and mustard and a drink for $2.75. It makes for a great dinner.

At this particular Gray’s Papaya, the counter is manned by anywhere from 2-4 Filipinos. I hear them speaking, and I feel inclined to say “thank you” in my native tongue. Perhaps we could strike up a conversation and talk about what part of The Island we’re from. I have this idea that we’d immediately become chums, and they’d start tossing me an extra hot dog just for being Filipino.

I hold off from chasing this pipe dream because I’m afraid of what they’ll think of me. My accent isn’t all that great. They might dismiss me as a poser. It’s a bit like when I first moved to The Americas, and everyone dismissed me because I sounded so Filipino. (This may also explain why, when I was young, my only friends in the neighborhood were the Indian [of the tandoori chicken variety] and Yugoslavian kids with parents from their respective motherlands.)

My fluency is also shaky. I can’t speak the language too well. I’m about as good as a 7-year-old. They’d immediately call me out on it and would probably think I’m an idiot.

I can, however, understand the language very well. It’s very interesting hearing them talk behind the counter. They’re not really saying much other than asking each other how many hot dogs customers order, what they want on hot dogs, and what drinks they select. I would’ve thought there’d be more interesting conversation. This also led me to wonder if this is the same kind of stuff that the Spanish-speaking employees at restaurants discuss. I always thought they’d be talking about their weekend or girlfriends while they worked. Maybe they’re just discussing whether I wanted guacamole and corn with my burrito.

I also wonder if they know I’m Filipino. Many people have confused me for some sort of Hispanic, mainly Mexican, but I’ve also been accused of being Cuban.

I have 3 more futbol games, so I have 3 more opportunities to overcome my native insecurities. Maybe on the night of the last game, I’ll summon enough courage to strike up a conversation with my fellow Islanders. If not, I’ll just get drunk at a West Village bar, head over to Gray’s Papaya, and start talking in slurred Filipino to the Mexicans who'll just happen to be working that night.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

A New Look

As you can see, I’ve updated the template for the blog. I thought it was time for a change. I’ve also updated my personal links and blog links in the sidebar.

Two blogs new blogs are “Graveyard Ramblings” and “Half and Half.” “Graveyard Ramblings” was just started by my old college roommate, Colin. If you read his first post, you’ll notice he was kind enough to name me as his inspiration. “Half and Half” is a blog by The GF. She attempted to start it back in May, then lost interest. But she’s attempting to start it up again. Be sure to check out their stuff.

On my personal links, I took down the link to my page. I haven’t had the time to search for quality links. If I ever find enough time/energy, I’ll just have a post informing you that I’ve cobbled together some entertaining pages. I put up a link to “Good Deal with Dave Lieberman” and “Everyday Italian” because both shows always have delicious food, Giada De Laurentiis is fairly attractive, and neither of the hosts are annoying like Rachael “EVOO” Ray.

Watch out for a new post mid-week. Hopefully, it will be up by Tuesday. However, mid-week gives me until Thursday at the latest to post something. I apologize for all the crap I’ve been writing lately. I’ve been drained by work. Luckily, HGOC was there for a guest blog that temporarily stopped the bleeding.

Lastly, I really appreciate all the great comments in the last month. I got a lot of response from mentioning the Moon Party, HGOC’s choice of female musicians, and stating my preference for NY over LA.

Stay tuned…

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The Dirty Burrito Battles Laziness

I don't feel like writing "The Dirty Burrito Battles Los Angeles: Part II." Call me lazy. I don't care. The fact is that I'm extremely tired. I don't feel like writing an epic post recapping the second half of my journey.

I do have to address the fact the I have pickles in my picture for "The Dirty Burrito Battles Los Angeles: Part I." Originally, I had a story in there about one of the girls that joined us at Cabana Club. She tried telling us that her great grandpa from Russia invented the pickle. Not only did he invent the pickle, but he was also murdered by Stalin--but not for inventing the pickle. The reason Stalin murdered her great grandpa is a well-guarded family secret.

After visiting Los Angeles, I did realize that I really don't like it as much as I thought. I definitely love hot weather, but I hate driving and traffic. I realized how much I really like NYC. I love having easy access to a subway, bus, or cab. In Los Angeles, you have to call a cab and wait for it. Have you ever been cheap and decided to take the subway home after a night of debauchery? Well, that is what it's like to wait for a cab in Los Angeles. I like being able to walk everywhere too. There is so much stuff I see on streets. It's awesome.

(Side note: I just realized that on Friday night, we saw a VW Bug that crashed into a bank. That's correct. The bug just smashed straight into the entrance of a bank on the corner. It was great.)

I also like the people in NYC much better. I love having all different kinds of people. Even the ones that yell at each other on the subway. I love hearing the bums on the subway come up with the craziest stories to get money, or hearing the same bums make up a different sob story each time.

I'm rambling. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. I'll write something better next time. I promise.

The Dirty Burrito Battles Los Angeles: Part I

This past weekend, I took a trip to Los Angeles to visit the Hottest Guy on Campus. I skipped out of work at 3:30, so I could make my 6PM flight at La Guardia. The original plan was to get in around 11PM, speed to the nearest In-N-Out Burger, then get to a bar around midnight. Unfortunately, my flight did not leave NYC until 9PM. I hate flying.

I had an extremely short layover in Chicago. I had enough time to grab a chicken taco from Burrito Beach. I would’ve preferred Cinnabon, but they weren’t open at 10PM. Though Burrito Beach was fairly poor in quality, especially since we were basically using the last of their ingredients, it really hit the spot because I had forgotten to eat all day.

Allow me to explain my situation. The night before, I went partying with the work people for a good 6 hours. Though it was fun, even being called “the mayor of drunk town,” I had planned to go to work early so I could complete my duties before leaving for the airport. Unfortunately, all that drinking prevented me from packing at 1AM. I had to settle for doing it at 7AM. This obviously prevented me from getting to the office at the hour I desired. I ended up arriving at the office at 8:30. As the mayor of drunk town, I accomplished my duty of being the first town member to get to work. In any case, I only had 7 hours to do what normally takes 10 hours. With all the craziness, I forgot to buy my daily coconut doughnut, and I forgot to eat my Special K w/ Fruit & Yogurt. Prior to the late night chicken taco, the only thing I had to eat all day was a sandwich with Doritos. I thought I was going to collapse.

OK, so back to the flight. We waited in the runway queue for about 5 minutes before it was our turn to take off. Midway through our acceleration down the runway, we just start slowing down and veer off onto another path. Apparently, air traffic control thought we were in danger of hitting something. That’s ridiculous. The first thought that crossed my mind was being angry at having to wait in the queue again. The second thought that crossed my mind was disgust at the stupidity of air traffic control. If you had any doubts at all, why would you even let us accelerate down a runway?

And by the way, I forgot my iPod for this hellish excursion. Traveling on a plane without an iPod is a horrendous experience.

After spending 12 hours in airports and airplanes, I finally landed in Los Angeles at 1:30AM PDT. My plan to hit up In-N-Out Burger was destroyed by American Airlines. Luckily for me, HGOC had leftover beef ribs with apple butter. Delicious.

The next morning, HGOC and I ventured to a restaurant called Eggs N Things. We got to the restaurant around 10:30AM on a Friday morning. We were starving and couldn’t wait to eat. When we arrived, we were greeted by a line. A freakin’ line at 10:30AM on a Friday morning. And this wasn’t a line of old retired people. This looked like a Sunday morning crowd, but without kids. Ninety-eight percent of the people in that restaurant should’ve been at work.

I turn to HGOC, “Why is there a line at a restaurant on Friday morning?! Don’t people work?!”

“People don’t work here. It’s ridiculous. Nobody in LA has a job.”

I turned away in disgust.

Luckily, the turnaround on table was quick. We got our booth an ordered. We couldn’t decide what to get, so we shared a Montecristo and Florentine omelette with round potatoes. It was the best American breakfast I’ve ever had. They gave us a crepe (not crape, but crepe) to start. The Montecristo was unreal. It was like a French toast sandwich. It was a sandwich with turkey (real stuff, not coldcuts), ham, tomato, and Swiss, dipped in egg batter and fried to perfection. It was topped with powdered sugar. You spread jam on it and dip it in maple syrup. It was heavenly. The Florentine omellete was also delicious. It had tomato, mushroom, some kind of cheese, and some other stuff, all topped with hollandaise. That was killer. The potatoes were awesome as well. They weren’t greasy diner potatoes. These potatoes were fried just right.

After that, we decided to go to Damon & Pythias (think Cosi) to get cake. Damon & Pythias has my favorite cake in the whole world—the Windmill Cake. I can’t even begin to describe the chocolatey explosion of goodness once that first bite hits my taste buds. If you live in Los Angeles, go to Damon & Pythias and get the Windmill Cake.

We sat around for the rest of the day because we were so full. We had all that food in the span of 1 hour. Around 3, we went to the gym to ride the ellipticals because we felt completely useless. We needed to get active.

After the gym, we met up with Ryuji. We both worked for him as interns 2 summers ago. HGOC now works for him again. Ryuji is this giant Japanese guy from Guam. He is also the most knowledgeable person on the planet. If you ask him for any type of fare, he will most certainly know where to direct you for a tasty meal. I wanted sushi that night, so he took us to his local place in Little Tokyo. It was delicious. Salmon roe, sea urchin, yellowtail, halibut, spicy scallop (superb taste), tuna, and deep fried shrimp heads to finish it off. I was stuffed.

Afterward, we went to Cabana Club. I have never seen so many fake people in my life. It was disgusting. So many blondes, so many fake boobs, so many twenty-something girls with 40- and 50-something boyfriends. There was one too many guys wearing a blue fur zip up hoodie with no undershirt. Yeah, picture that.

Part II to follow tomorrow.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Taking a Break

I know. I don't need to take a break. I haven't posted in ages, and the last new entry was from the Hottest Guy on Campus--2 weeks ago. But the title of this post does not refer to my recent laziness/busy schedule. It refers to those dreaded words you hate to hear from your significant other: "I think we should take a break."

No, The GF and I did not go through this episode...recently. My roommate was telling me how some close friends of his were about to begin a "trial separation." I think this term is overly euphemistic. Tonight (not sure why I didn't come to this conclusion sooner), I came to the realization that a "trial separation" is a married couple's way of saying, "We need to take a break."

For married couples, it's certainly a far cry from "taking a break" from dating. When in the dating/unmarried phase, at least one party, usually the break-suggester, goes on to be promiscuous with several fine or not so fine specimens of the opposite sex. In some cases, the party on the receiving end of the break suggestion will sit alone and cry him/herself to sleep. In other cases, the receiver uses this as motivation to exact revenge on the break-suggester and will instantly turn on his/her game.

The situation is slightly more complicated when a couple is married. Surely, several assets are shared, and, in some cases, children. In that situation you can't just go to your local watering hole and bring home the first piece of sleaze that you see. If you have kids, the reasons are obvious. But even if you don't have kids, if, during a "trial separation," you take home that "hot"(WARNING! Beer Goggles in full effect!) waitress after she's given you your 10 free shot, you're still not divorced. If your soon-to-be ex-wife find out about your shenanigans, she will be taking half of your meager fortune once she does divorce you.

The lesson of this little blog entry: Don't ever get married...ever!

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Deep Thoughts by HGOC

After a 14 month hiatus, Northwestern University's inaugural Hottest Guy on Campus has returned to share his thoughts with the readers of The Dirty Burrito. Below is the full, unedited prose of the literary mastermind.

After having a discussion with the Dirty Burrito tonight I came to a weird realization…despite sex supposedly selling in the music industry, the majority of music that men and woman listen to are by male performers. And despite the deep seeded thought in the back of my mind that all girls have lesbian tendencies, girls aren’t purchasing other girls music for their sexiness. They buy it because the girl’s music has a good beat (usually produced by a male) and the lyrics talk about either: wanting a man/men or a relationship ending with a man/men. It’s very rare to find a female artist with several likeable songs; most are one or two hit wonders.

I am personally a fan of four female musicians: Mariah Carey, Avril Lavigne, Kelly Clarkston, and Enya, in that order. And by “fan”, I mean being able to publicly express my liking for them and attend their concert without feeling really gay for my age (Even though an Avril concert would probably be full of emo boys). How can Mariah be number one you may ask? My answer is how can she not? She has songs for all occasions, collaborated with Boys 2 Men, Bone Thugs, and Joe, to name a few, and was the first woman to sexually arouse me through a music video (Honey- 1997). While you could perhaps make many arguments for Madonna (voice isn’t as good) or Brittany Spears (manages to be fake in a fake industry), much like Chapelle’s Michael Jackson clause (he can whatever he want, he made Thriller), Mariah can scream, rehab, and fluctuate in weight as much as she wants because we all know there is no song you’d rather want to here around Christmas time, or anytime, than “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” Just hearing that song puts you in a good mood. In fact, I am listening to it while typing this up…After all, Christmas is only a few months away and the displays in department stores only a few days away.

A few random thoughts and life lessons:

1- How is it that Adult Bookstores stay in business? Book stores suffered tremendous blows from both the television and internet, forcing mom and pop shops to succumb to the huge conglomerates of Barnes & Noble and Borders, yet little porn book stores keep chugging along. In fact, there is a freeway somewhere in Illinois on the way to Western Illinois from Chicago that has two Adult Bookstores on opposite sides of the highway. This blows my mind (no pun intended). I wondered for several hours, not kidding, whether they were owned by a single person or were rival bookstores. I came to the conclusion they had to be rivals. No human being in their right mind would use convenience as a selling point for adult books. Picture that thought process... “Oh look an adult book store! Damn, I’d stop if it wasn’t on the other side of the highway.” People don’t buy porn books like they buy lemonade from a little kid… “Oh look there it is, I think I’ll pull over and get some.” You leave your house looking for porn, unless you’re my dearest friend Zdenek. Regardless, an interesting Sociology experiment should be done on the two bookstores and the people who frequent them.

2- Find a girl who can bring about your creative side. There’s nothing worse than forced conversation.

3- Despite what they say, ugly people do have something to lose in a fight. Ironically, they have everything to lose. I couldn’t imagine a fate worse than being ugly and a pussy.

4- Next time someone calls and asks what you’re doing; tell them “just sitting around, listening to Mike Jones.” I don’t know why it’s funny but it is.

5- Why do I never tire of watching a Zamboni clean the ice in between hockey periods? Every hockey game I go to (I’ve been a ton), I just stare silently in amazement as these ice cleaning gods maneuver these huge machines and NEVER MISS A SPOT. It’s incredible; it’s probably in my top 20 favorite things to do between watching people fall off treadmills and spitting off high establishments.

6- You can never look cool while running with a backpack on.

That’s all for now. I hope loyal Dirty Burrito readers enjoy my guest blogs and will make comments or start discussions. But even if you don’t enjoy my writing you’re s.o.l because Carlos Delgados does.

Sunday, September 24, 2006


This weekend, I went to Quicksilver in Times Square because The GF had to find some stuff for her sister. I ended up getting a pair of sunglasses. However, this is not the point of my story.

There was some sort of theme day for the employees of Quicksilver. I think I heard someone mention Surf Day. I’m not sure, but the official name does not matter. What matters is how the people were dressed. They were dressed in beach attire. This meant guys in board shorts or a wet suit, and girls in bikini tops. I bet you’re thinking this sounds sweet. Think again.

After seeing the bodies of the Quicksilver employees, I was finally able to fully appreciate the elitist hiring practices of Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister Co. As you may or may not know, the two latter companies have certain standards for their employees and have been known to ask customers to work there. I used to think this was a myth until this actually happened to me. (OK, so I was with HGOC and this really hot girl that liked him. Who knows why he invited me to go on this date with him? Who knows why I agreed?) In any case, we were asked by some sort of manager from Abercrombie & Fitch, and we politely declined. (Disclaimer: I’m still not sure if this is how they hire people. My statements are just based on rumors. Don’t take my word for it.)

Personally, I hate Abercrombie & Fitch. I do not like having “Abercrombie” plastered across my clothing. I also think it’s a travesty that Fitch gets the shaft. I’ve only purchased one thing from there in my entire life, and that was only because The GF had a gift card that she did not want to use, so I decided to use it on a pink T-shirt.

I used to buy select things at Hollister Co. I bought a polo shirt from there and a T-shirt that said, “I heart SOCCER MOMS.” I somewhat liked the store because it is rather cheap ($15 for a T-shirt or polo) and when it first started, it didn’t plaster “Hollister” all over its apparel. Now, they’ve followed the sister company and plaster “Hollister” all over the place. I also think I’ve outgrown the store. I walked in there, and I immediately walked out because I felt really old.

Putting aside my disdain for the apparel at Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister Co., I did enjoy the scenery. It was always a pleasant experience to walk through those stores and admire the prime female employees on staff. I did think it was weird that they’d make the male greeters take off their shirts and have the girls wear tiny skirts and a tank top in the middle of winter when the store opened up to the street. That must’ve been brutal. Are there not labor laws against this? Whatever the case, the females were hot.

Going back to Quicksilver, it was a nasty site. The girls had fat hanging all over the place, and the dudes were not ripped. That’s not to say I was admiring the dudes, but I’m sure the ladies were disgusted by them. I know the GF voiced her discomfort. The scene at Quicksilver was not to be admired.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Wedding in the Hamptons

I went to a wedding in Easthampton this weekend. It was a beautiful wedding and the reception was held at the property of the bride's uncle. It was a very classy start. When we got to the reception, I felt like I was at a Ralph Lauren photo shoot. The food was delicious, the speeches were great, and the booze was flowing. The DJ also added to the greatness because he was a real DJ, not a cheesy wedding DJ, so he played superb music. The reception started at 4 PM and went until 4 AM. Yes, it was a 12 hour reception. I'm extremely tired. This is why there is no effort or structure in this post. Drinks were flowing the whole time and everyone was dancing the night away. We thought we hit a wall at 2 AM, but then my friend and I found bottles of champagne and started passing them around. Even though there was still an abundance of hard liquor and beer, nothing lifts people's spirits like the communal passing of alcohol. It brings people together like I've never seen. The champagne treasure gave us all the extra lift to make it for a couple more hours. At about 3:15 AM, someone briefly stopped the DJ and gave a speech about how we've been partying for 11 hours and 15 minutes and how the bride and groom would remember this night forever. Unfortunately, the groom didn't actually remember. He and the bride participated in the champagne chain and also partied until 4 AM. What was their reward for hanging with their faithful wedding supporters? They got to pack in a van cab with 7 other people--1 in front, 2 in the captains chairs, 3 in the back row, and 3 in the trunk. However, being the bride and groom, we volunteered to let them have the captains chairs. I don't think the groom cared so much because I heard he doesn't even remember if he paid the DJ. In any case, everyone had a grand old time. You can check out the pictures here:

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Futbol Over Football

When I was a young lad growing up in the Third World streets of The Island, I played a lot of basketball. In fact, it was the only sport I could remember playing until I was 6 and my dad introduced me to what you Americans refer to as soccer.

I remember playing with my brother in the backyard of our old house in Sterling Heights on the mean streets of 15 Mile Road, a mere 7 miles from 8 Mile. My parents must’ve gone through my backpack and found the flyer they gave out at school to sign up for AYSO. My parents came out and asked me if I wanted to play soccer. I said something along the lines of, “What’s soccer?”

My dad said something about taking a ball and kicking and dribbling it. This confused the hell out of me because that sounded a lot like basketball—you dribble a basketball, but you don’t kick it. My dad, assuming I knew what dribbling meant, handed me a ball and told me to dribble it. I picked it up with my hands and started bouncing that ball around because it was the only “dribbling” that I knew. I remember he and my mom just started laughing at my confusion (another traumatic moment caused by soccer—remember the story about how my dad told me I sucked after a game?). Eventually, he cleared it up for me, and I embarked on my journey with the beautiful game.

In addition to futbol, I played tennis in my youth. In fact, I would hit the ball with my friend (notice the singular) or my brother, and I’d pretend I was Pete Sampras, Andre Agassi, or Michael Chang. I preferred watching Wimbledon and the French Open to the Feyenoord and Ajax games they’d show on ESPN on the weekends. I thought I’d eventually keep going with tennis and toss futbol aside.

One fateful day in 1993, that all changed. I was going to sign up to play American football for my elementary school in the fall. I was going to leave the AYSO rec leagues and go to the big time in another sport. I was a football superstar at recess, and my friends (notice the plural) recommended I play. The St. Anne Elementary varsity football squadron were the Atlanta Braves of Catholic Youth Organization football—division champions every year with a long-long time coach, but unable to fulfill their potential and win the big one—the CYO Championship.

In any case I thought I’d join the team because a few of my friends were on it, and they seemed to talk to the girls in our class. So my dad and I went to the Junior High building after church for Fall Sports sign-up. That is when you could sign up for football, soccer, and cheerleading. My dad got the sign up sheet and asked me if I’m sure that I wanted to play football. I’m not sure why he asked if I was sure. Maybe it was because I had played soccer for the last 4 years, and he wanted me to be absolutely sure. Whatever the case, I freaked out internally. When he asked me if I really wanted to play football, I finally realized that I wouldn’t be playing playground football that was two-hand touch. I’d be getting tackled by kids way bigger than me. I was just a chubby little Asian boy.

At that moment, I picked futbol over football because I was too big of a wuss to get tackled by big fat white kids.

In the end, it all worked out. I ended up playing for the Rochester Knights, a rowdy group of idiots who showed respect for my love of doughnuts by affectionately nicknaming me, Homer. I became friends with Northwestern’s Hottest Guy on Campus, with whom I hosted the greatest bashes ever—The 33rd Anniversary of Neil Armstrong Landing on the Moon Party and The Alaskan Pipeline Party—and who introduced me to many smoking hot females, but more importantly, provided me with my first taste of a Chipotle burrito.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Signs of Aging

Dominique Wilkins, Joe Dumars, and the great Charles Barkley were inducted into the basketball Hall of Fame this past weekend. I know all three of those guys and even remember watching them play on TV. I’m sure most of you also remember watching these guys, and do you know what that means? It means we’re getting old.

When I was younger, all these “old school” players would be inducted into the Hall of Fames for basketball, football, and baseball, but I’d never know who they were. Now they’re inducting the Human Highlight Reel, the guy who Michael Jordan called the toughest defender he’s ever faced, and the Round Mound of Rebound.

My sister is 10 years younger than me, and I bet she and her friends don’t have any recollection of these guys when they had uniforms. That age group probably doesn’t remember ‘Nique, only know Joe Dumars as the President of Basketball Operations for the Detroit Pistons (and for you Detroiters—Joe Dumars’ Field House), and Charles Barkley as the enormous, hilarious commentator on TNT with a "gambling problem."

Speaking of my sister, another sign that I’m old is that she did not know about Dr. Martens. Back on The Island for Christmas Eve, I wore this hot magenta button down, jeans, and brown Sergio Tomani shoes. She looked down at the shoes and said, “Those shoes make you look gay.”

I replied in a sarcastic tone, “Oh what do you want me to wear? Should I be wearing super cool Dr. Martens like all the guys in your school?”

With a puzzled look on her face, “What are those?”

“You don’t know Dr. Martens?” They have the yellow stitching on the soles. The soles are really thick and made of that special material.”


“What do the guys at your school wear?”


Apparently, Dr. Martens are no longer popular among the middle school crowd. Skechers have usurped them in coolness. Skechers used to be the crappy brand people would buy if they couldn’t afford Dr. Martens. What a change of events. And remember how the soles used to have those crosses as part of the pattern? They’re gone now.

One last sign that we’re all getting older—Jenny McCarthy is no longer hot. I was watching Andy Roddick’s semifinal match in the US Open, and they showed Jim Carrey in the crowd. The announcer gave the obligatory Jim Carrey shout out, but what didn’t happen was somewhat funny. Jim was sitting next to his latest love interest, Jenny McCarthy. She has become so insignificant to pop culture that CBS barely showed her and didn’t even mention she was there with Jim Carrey. I didn’t even like her FHM spread. Jim Carrey made a mistake. He should’ve gone after the other, hotter Singled Out host—Carmen Electra.

I will leave you all with a quote from one of my all-time favorites—Sir Charles:

"I'm rich, man. I can't be hitting people. It's a liability issue. Especially with all these white people in the crowd at golf tournaments. I can see the headlines: 'Charles Barkley kills white dude with a golf ball.' I don't need to be looking for my Al Cowlings." [Source]

Thursday, September 07, 2006

2 of Amerikaz Most Wanted

Last night, I saw the Broadway show Jersey Boys because The GF got free tickets—normally $111.25 each. To be honest, the only reason I went was because it was free. There is no way in hell I would pay $111.25 to see a 2-hour Broadway musical. (I did, however, pay about $80 to see Avenue Q. It was very funny. You should go see it.)

Having said all that, Jersey Boys was actually a very enjoyable show. Using their arsenal of hits, the show chronicles the rise of Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons. I was surprised at all the classics they put out. I didn’t realize a lot of the old school hits you hear everywhere, from movies, to TV, to commercials, came from these guys.

The crowd was great as well. It was most definitely a geriatric convention, but they were really into it. Many of the people there were probably in their teens and twenties when Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons were hitting it big. They absolutely loved it. I’ve never seen anything like it. One moment, they’re standing, clapping and wanting to dance. The next moment, they’re barely able to shuffle out of the theatre.

Seeing the crowd got me thinking about whom I’d want a musical made when I’m in my 70s and 80s. If I were to pick a group from the 1980s, I’d pick Journey, Hall & Oates, or Duran Duran for their breadth of hits. If I were to choose something from the 1990s, I’d pick Biggie and Tupac and have the story center around their feud. I can just picture some West Side Story-style confrontations between the entourages of Biggie and Tupac, except they’d be rapping instead of singing as they snapped their fingers and did their Broadway moves.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

The Big 2-3

Thanks to everyone that wished me a Happy Birthday! From the messages and wall posts on the 3 stalker directories to the texts and phone calls, it was all very much appreciated.

Just in case you didn't know my age, I hit the big 2-3 on Thursday. I don't think there are any big milestones at 23. HGOC did mention on my Facebook wall that I could rent a car, but I thought that was at 25, the same age that car insurance goes down. Plus, I was able to rent a car when I moved to Minneapolis when I was only 21. Although, they did charge me an extra $50 per day for being under 25. Good thing I was able to expense it to The Corporation.

Speaking of age milestones, here is the list I came up with sometime in high school:
  • 15 - Start driver's ed
  • 16 - Get driver's license.
  • 17 - Watch movies rated R and NC-17.
  • 18 - Buy ciagrettes and porn.
  • 19 - Go to Canada and drink. (This is a popular thing to do in Southeast Michigan as we are a mere 45 minute drive to the Canadian border.)
  • 20 - You're out of your teens.
  • 21 - Pound 21 shots and hope for the best. (In my case, got obscenely wasted, woke up to vomit on my floor, and couldn't drink the rest of welcome week because my throat hurt so badly from the violent regurgitation.)
  • 22-24 - Get used to being a corporate slave or delay the inevitable and go to law school.
  • 25 - Lower your car insurace. Switch to All State. Or call Geico and save. (Personally, I'd go with All State because you can't go wrong with Dennis Haysbert, aka Cerrano, aka President Palmer.)
  • 26-29 - Watch all your friends get engaged/married and start feeling the pressure.
  • 30 & up - If I'm 30, married, have a kid, and still refer to myself as The Dirty Burrito, then I'll address the 30's as I wonder why my wife doesn't divorce a 30-year-old who still refers to himself as The Dirty Burrito. Hopefully, the answer will be that I'm obscenely wealthy, and I made her sign a prenup.
If you were wondering how I celebrated my birthday...
  • Thursday
    • Work peeps took me to Outback for lunch. Always an enjoyable group. Lots of laughs.
    • Met up with The GF around Rockefeller Center because she wanted to stalk celebrities at the MTV VMA's. Just for the record, I did not want to stalk celebrities. Anyway, I had never seen this side of her. It scared me to a certain degree. She was there for a good 2.5 hours. It made me question the relationship a bit.
    • Went for a drinks after stalking.
    • Girlfriend gave me birthday presents and a special surprise: she made me an ice cream cake! She made the cake (yellow cake-my favorite) herself and used one of my favorite ice cream flavors, Breyer's Banana Bonanza. To sum it up, she combined 2 of my favorite things in the world, baked goods and ice cream, into a delicious concoction. She can stalk celebrities at the VMA's as much she wants.
  • Friday
    • The GF took me out to dinner at Dip, a fondue restaurant at 30th & 3rd. This dinner really solidified our relationship. Thursday night, she gave me a homemade ice cream cake using my favorite cake and one of my top 10 ice cream flavors. And Friday night, she takes me to Dip, where you get bread and cheese, which I love. I was going crazy dipping the French baguette in that warm, delicious Gruyere Swiss. Then, we got the chocolate fondue. If you don't know how much I love chocolate, then we are not friends. Chocolate is high on my list of things I need to survive along with cheese & bread, doughnuts, cake, ice cream, and rice.
  • Saturday
    • I reunited with my old college roommates to play beer pong. I was very successful, going 3-0 for the night and winning 2 of the games in OT. We then proceed to go to some bars around the NYU law campus. I ended up playing Guitar Hero at the dorm of my friend, Michele. The GF wasn't with me that night, so I went to McDonald's at 3:30 AM without getting harassed about the health hazards of getting McDonald's at 3:30 AM. I ended up getting a McChicken sandwich, Snack Wrap, 4-piece Chicken McNuggets, and medium fries. It was so delicious. For some idiotic reason, I decided not to go back to my East Village slum and instead took the subway back to Queens all by myself. Amazingly, I did not get lost. It was quite an accomplishment.

Thursday, August 31, 2006

I Called It!

"What are the chances of hearing another Dashboard song on this week's Laguna Beach? Just to key you in, they played Age Six Racer in the first season, Ghost of a Good Thing in the second season, Don't Wait in this season's premiere, and the latest episode featured a horrid female cover of Screaming Infidelities. " - The Dirty Burrito 8/29/06

I can't believe they played Dashboard Confessional music for the third straight time. Just as an FYI, the song, from his latest album, is called Stolen. Just as another FYI, I could totally kick Chris Carabba's ass.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Thanks A Lot Good Charlotte

"Remember when being punk meant getting a blowjob in the alley outside a $5 rock show, then walking in and getting hit with a Dixie Cup full of piss? Today it means moshing it up in the pit at Madison Square Garden while your parents hold your coat and mittens. Thanks a lot, Good Charlotte. " -

It's hysterical because it's true. I'm currently slummin' in the East Village, and there is no way in hell any of these punks/hipsters like Good Charlotte. I'm even afraid to venture out wearing my Ramones shirt for fear of being gang-beaten by a group of offended hipsters who were most likely there when the Ramones first played CBGB.

While we're on the subject of music, what are the chances of hearing another Dashboard song on this week's Laguna Beach? Just to key you in, they played Age Six Racer in the first season, Ghost of a Good Thing in the second season, Don't Wait in this season's premiere, and the latest episode featured a horrid female cover of Screaming Infidelities.

His whiny voice is so distinct that I think he has become the voice of the emo nation. He is so depressed.

And speaking of emo, I started listening to a bunch of old emo tunes, from such acts as The Get Up Kids and The Starting Line. I even downloaded some new songs from Dashboard's new CD and Panic! At the Disco. I think I'm going to write my own emo song soon. I just need to hit a creative zone.

My housemate from college, Colin, started his own blog on MySpace and posted something about the ultimate bar playlist. Long story short, he wanted suggestions for those 1-2 songs that you absolutely need to hear and get everyone singing. Some girl chose Your Love by The Outfield--a totally lame and obvious choice. I went for the not-so-obvious, We Built This City by Starship. I love that song, and I would love to hear at a bar.

Lastly, HGOC had this to say about Oasis on his away message: "oasis is overrated, yeah i said it. good band, nothing against them, but i wouldnt consider them in a top 10. i think most of their success is attributed to the fact people feel cooler by saying they like them cuz it makes them sound knowledgable about music. clever name too"

I was originally going to write a furious rant about he is completely wrong, but when I re-read his quote, I decided it's sadly true. I loved Oasis back in middle school. I thought What's the Story Morning Glory? was an amazing album, one of the few CDs that I've listened to all the way through. But then I remembered the let down that was Be Here Now and that POS, Standing on the Shoulders of Giants, from which I can't even remember a single song. Their MTV Unplugged performance was great. I even remember listening to the local radio station to try and be the Nth caller for tickets and airfare to the taping of the Unplugged in London. I do have this unreal acoustic performance of Don't Go Away that Noel Gallagher, the lead guitarist and elder of the feuding siblings, sang. I last tried looking for it on Limewire and Kazaa a couple years ago just to see if it was out there, but I couldn't find it. The closest thing is the Unplugged performance that Noel also sings, but the version I have is great.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

It's Gonna Rage

Episode 2 appears to have been a set-up for what looks to be the season-long sexual tension between Chase and Tessa. The two main characters, best friends who have known each other since childhood, must confront their feelings for one another—you have to be an idiot of a producer to mess that one up.

Tessa looked pretty good this episode. Even though I had originally said I liked her, I was a little reluctant to put it down in writing. After this episode, any reservations I had about her were erased. She solidified her status as an attractive female on Laguna Beach, she is not a bitch, she seems to have a great personality, and she doesn’t have a huge infatuation with any coke-snorting losers who don’t graduate from high school. Obviously, this could all change as the season progresses, but at the moment, she has leapfrogged the competition and has overtaken LC as my favorite female Laguna resident.

Although her surprise birthday party seemed like a promo event for Open Air Stereo, Tessa seemed genuinely shocked. As she walked through the door, she trembled in disbelief and excitement. I don’t think that reaction could’ve been acted out by any of these characters.

Big surprise here—Cami and Kyndra were bitches again. I found something else I don’t like about Kyndra. Her voice. It has a strange deep & raspy quality about it, as if she has been smoking for years. It reminds me of the voice of Marge’s sisters from The Simpsons.

Open Air Stereo seems like a legitimately good band. I liked their sound in the practice scenes as well as the party scene, and they write their own original music. I checked out their website. It looks like they may make it big....definitely bigger than Talan. They also don’t appear to be slackers. They seem to love their music and are willing to go the distance. This isn’t just some high school thing to get chicks. Well, it might be, but they have the potential and have decided to go for gold.

Speaking of going all out for something, I felt bad for Tessa at the end of the show. She was so excited to hang out with Chase, but then he ditched her because the band needed him. Though I empathized with Tessa, I also envied Chase. (Side note: For the last two instances where I mentioned Chase, I kept initially typing Trey. They are so similar.)

Chase has direction in his life. When his band summoned him during his date with Tessa, he didn’t even think twice about ending the night early. I wish I had something like that. Hopefully, things will work out for me in the coming months and instead of merely going through the motions each day, I’ll have more direction or clearly defined goals. Right now, my general goal is “Get rich.” How I’ll accomplish this is somewhat murky at the moment. I think the best way of reaching my goal would be to lay out a plan. I hope to do that sometime this year.

Friday, August 25, 2006

The Mullet Sale

I know I said I'd follow up with a Laguna recap once I saw the episode 2 rerun, but this ad on Pink is the New Blog is inescapable.

UNREAL. I can't believe an ad like this got the green light. It's brilliant. I'm nearly speechless. I don't even know what to write. I guess Talladega Nights made it perfectly acceptable to ridicule southern white trash culture.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Stay Tuned

I apologize for not having a Laguna post today. I know all of you expect my biased opinions on the show. The clients are in town this week, and we took them out for drinks and appetizers. After losing my phone and leaving my bag at the bar 2 weeks ago, I decided that getting wasted in front of the clients was not a good idea. I had 3 pints and I called it quits.

We did manage to get a couple of the clients bombed. One admitted she was a lesbian. The night didn't even end up being Laguna-free. For some reason, I got into a discussion with 2 female upper management clients about Laguna Beach and The Hills. These women are probably in their late 20s-early 30s, are definitely married, and were discussing the fact that Chase is cute and Cameron is not cute, but has a hot body--all after talking shit about Jessica for hooking up with a high school junior.

I'm going back home to Michigan tonight. Great Lakes, Great Times. I'll be sure to catch a rerun and write something about the second episode before I return on Sunday night.

Stay tuned...

Thursday, August 17, 2006

A New Era of Drama

“I hear they’re coming out with a third season, but I doubt it can be as good. Yes, the show was only semi-real, but I feel the third season is just going to be completely fake. It’s going to be like Real World, but in Laguna Beach. I’m sure they’ll have some new badass that cheats on everyone, a new blonde ditz, a super emotional punk chick with green hair and striped socks, a “secretly” gay person, a black guy who wants to be a musician, and some female minority that is a huge bitch. Do they even have non-Caucasians in that town? Maybe The Miz and Coral will show up to narrate the show. Who knows? At the very least, please stop Kristin from her horrible, monotone narration.” The Dirty Burrito (November 14, 2005)

I wrote that last November soon after Season 2 ended. I did seem very skeptical at the time. However, my anticipation greatly increased for a variety of reasons:

1) Hot high school girls (Somewhat of a Disclaimer: “Don’t jump on your high horse and pretend I’m some sick freak checking out high school girls. I know for a fact that every guy who watched this show held debates as to whether LC or Kristin was hotter in the first season, checked out Jessica’s boobs in the second season, and checked out every girl that wore a bikini. Ladies, I know many of you thought Jason and Talan were cute, and that you thought the guys from the third season are ‘hotties.’”The Dirty Burrito (December 29, 2005))

2) New cast

3) (I hate to admit this) The Hills sucked

4) Always stellar soundtrack

5) Hot high school girls (Can I be arrested for this comment, or does my “disclaimer” cover both mentions?)

The show opened up with a fine introductory narration to set the stage for the rest of the season. Though it gave us a background on the new cast, it didn’t leave open the opportunity to develop our own first impressions. In any case, this is what I got from that segment:

  • Tessa is the narrator
  • Rocky and Tessa are best friends
  • Chase is some sort of rock star in the making, and has some deep bond with Tessa
  • Kelan is Chase’s best friend and band mate
  • Cameron got really hot, turned into a player, and is hooking up with Jessica—yes, that Jessica
  • Cami is the Queen of Mean
  • Lexie is an Ice Princess
  • Breanna is LC’s little sister
  • Kyndra is the leader of the popular clique and turned her back on Tessa

I already don’t like her, but I have a feeling that before the season is over, Rocky will prove herself to be the super emotional punk chick, but without green hair and striped socks. She just has this Frankie-from-The Real World-San Diego thing about her.

Kelan seems to be an entertaining character. I watched the After Show special with the always beautiful Vanessa Minnillo, and I caught the segment where he was showing his room. He pointed to his bed and said something along the lines of “not much magic happens here.” Then, he patted his TV and called it his best friend. Actually, now that I think about it, he sounds like me in high school, except he’s in a band. What a sad existence I led…

Though Chase’s beard is more reminiscent of Jason, his personality is more comparable to Trey, who I believe also had a beard at some point. Just stick a trucker hat on the guy and have him organize some fashion shows for charity, and you’ve got Trey.

I don’t care for Breanna. I feel she only got on the show because LC threatened not to do The Hills unless her little sister got a spot on the new cast. She’s also not attractive.

I’m holding off on judging Lexie because we didn’t get to see much of her on the premiere. I will say that I find her somewhat appealing.

Cami is the female minority that is a huge bitch. What is she? Whatever she is, she definitely has huge boobs. (That is not to say that I think she is a looker.) What size are those things? There are so many mysteries about this girl.

I don’t like Kyndra. She, along with BFF Cami, is a super bitch. All I kept noticing about her were her fake nails. I hate fake things—fake hair, fake eyelashes, fake nails, etc. (Fake boobs are not included in this discussion.)

I foresee Cameron providing me with huge amounts of laughter. This guy is a total meathead. I keep waiting for him to head butt his friends as a greeting. I can’t wait to watch what unfolds between him and all his ladies. It’s amazing that he is hooking up with Jessica. I wish he had gotten her pregnant so they could’ve had the stupidest baby known to man. I did like the part in the after show where he showed the ceramic “GET A JOB” sign he made for Jessica because he “keeps telling her to get a job.” I actually burst into laughter for that one.

It took me the entire episode to formulate an opinion on our host, Tessa. I was torn on everything about her—narration, looks, personality, and choice of friends. In the end, I found myself liking her a lot, in spite of her friendship with Rocky. She narrates well, she is pretty, she has a good personality, and she is friends with the Trey-like Chase.

If you’ll turn your attention back to my opening quote, I said there would be 6 different archetypes: badass that cheats on everyone, a new blonde ditz, a super emotional punk chick with green hair and striped socks, a “secretly” gay person, a black guy who wants to be a musician, and some female minority that is a huge bitch.

It turns out that I guessed three of them correctly—badass that cheats on everyone (Cameron), a new blonde ditz (Kyndra), and some female minority that is a huge bitch (Cami).

I think Season 3 has a ton of potential. The girls are super bitches, and the guys actually bring something more than a beard and a surfboard to the table.

End Note: I realize I skipped over many plot points from the first episode, such as the Alex M., Alex H., Taylor, and Jessica Reunion Special, but I’m tired and I need sleep. I’ll try to get a follow-up entry posted this weekend. Stay tuned.