Citizen of the Month

the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

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The Mattress Expert

April 6, 2008 / / 36 Comments

sealy

With blogs and bloggers becoming more important in the media, it’s become common to hear about a blogger interviewed by the New York Times or chatting on the Today show.  I don’t want to sound like I have sour grapes, but my opportunities in the “real” media world have been pretty thin.   That’s why I jumped out of my chair on Friday when I received an email from the The Dr. Phil Show. 

The email began —

“My name is Emily and I work with the Senior Producer at the Dr. Phil Show here at Paramount in LA…”

Emily continued on about some post I had written in 2006 about Sophia’s parents getting ripped off at a local mattress store.   She wanted me to call, so we could discuss this post. 

Woo-hoo!  I imagined fame and fortune and everything that goes with it…

But there was one red flag.  The letter was hastily written, with several spelling errors.  Was it spam or just written by  a very busy individual.  I googled Emily and was she legit.   My success was back on track.

I took a deep breath before calling the show.   I was a little anxious… for a very good reason.  I have made fun of Dr. Phil several times on my blog, even mocking his son’s marriage to a Playboy bunny. 

Then I remembered that he is a forgiving guy. 

“Isn’t that what his show is all about?”  I said to myself.

The past is the past.  Especially, if the Dr, Phil show wanted me as a guest.  I imagined an important show about “Senior Citizen Rip-offs” and Dr. Phil calling me from the audience:

Dr. Phil:  “And now, with more ways for seniors to protect themselves against shady mattress store franchises, I’d like to bring up blogger/consumer expert, Neil “Neilochka” Kramer, who writes the hugely-successful blog, Citizen of the Month.”

The female crowd goes wild.  Many lift  banners and signs, ala American Idol, reading “Take My Bra Off, Neilochka!”

With my mind jam-packed with these vivid images, I called up Emily at her Paramount office.  She quickly answered the phone.  She was waiting for my call. 

For me?!   My ego rose to heights never seen before.

“Thank you, thank you for calling back!” she said, somewhat frantically.

Wow!  Was the show that desperate to have me as a guest?   She seemed almost in awe of me, as if she was on the phone with Tom Cruise, begging him to come on the show for an exclusive interview.

“How can I help you?” I asked, speaking in a deeper than usual voice, trying to hide my New York accent.

“I’m so glad I found you,” she continued.  “You see, my boss is in the hospital.  A few days ago, she asked me to buy her a new mattress for her home, so I went to Ortho-mattress, and they ended up ripping me off on the price, not promising what they said, and then charging me too much for shipping.  The mattress cost hundreds of dollars more than she allocated and now I don’t know what to do.  I haven’t told her yet — and I’m afraid of getting fired.  So, I googled mattress rip-offs in Los Angeles and found your blog, and I ‘m hoping that you can give me some advice!”

Advice on mattress rip-offs?!  So you won’t get fired?  This is what the email was all about?!   You mean, Dr. Phil didn’t want me ON the show?!

I had this tight feeling in my stomach.  I remember the first time I felt it.   During grad school, I went out with this cute girl, thinking she wanted to take off my clothes, but all she wanted was to “pick my brain” to learn how she and her boyfriend could find a agent for some sci-fi screenplay they wrote together about a war with some crazed robots.

Luckily, Emily was quite nice, despite her reason for calling me.  We talked for fifteen minutes.  Well, mostly she talked.  She just moved to a new apartment and she couldn’t get fired because she has all these debts, and it wasn’t fair that she got ripped off by the mattress store, and now she has to face the producer, and she is very very nervous…etc.  We chatted like old friends, which was odd considering that she just found my blog on a Google search.  But maybe Dr. Phil only hires very friendly staff members.

I told Emily that mattress stores are the last refuge of sleazy salesmen.  For instance, when you buy a car nowadays, you usually know how much the sticker price is from looking it up on the internet.  Sealy and Serta intentionally name the same mattresses different names depending on the store, so it is difficult for the consumer to do a price check.  I advised Emily to call the Better Business Bureau, the store’s corporate office, and lastly, to contest the charges with her credit card. 

After I hung up the phone, it occurred to me that I actually WAS helpful.  Google DID bring her to the right person to speak to about mattresses.  The internet worked.

Dr. Phil, I’m ready for my close-up!

From the archives:  An even earlier mattress store story.

Will a Tattoo Add to My Worth in Bed?

April 4, 2008 / / 81 Comments

I saw this intriguing “quiz” titled “What are You Worth in Bed?”


What is your worth?

Normally I ignore these nonsensical quizzes, but who isn’t curious about how much one can get for his sexual services?  During the Eliot Spitzer scandal, there was much talk about the fees paid to his high-priced hooker.   Naturally, many in the blogosphere starting thinking about their own careers.   Would it be more lucrative being a hooker than, for instance,  running an Esty shop selling knitted socks?  Now is your chance to find out.  The quiz has separate questions for both men and women.   Most of the questions in the gigolo-meter are pretty standard for the men — age, height, penis size, but then there are  tricky questions like, “How kinky are you?”  or “What do you like to do after sex — party, spoon, or go to sleep?”

Bad news.  I’m only worth a lousy $918 in bed.  How humiliating.  I’m pretty sure my downfall is this — I’m not dangerous enough.  Women want a sense of danger in their male hooker.  My kinky rating wasn’t very high, and I had to answer “no,” when I was asked if I had any tattoos.  I was actually surprised that there was a question about tattoos.  Would I be worth more in bed if I had a well-placed tattoo?  Do women want a man with a tattoo?

Desperate to up my bed-ability scores, I’ve been thinking about my lack of tattoos all day.

By Jewish law, I’m not supposed to get a tattoo, but many Jews have them anyway.  My main reason for avoiding tattoos all my life is fear.  I used to faint when I received allergy shots.  Uh-oh, by revealing that, I think by worth as a male prostitute just dropped another five bucks.

I actually do find tattoos on a woman as sexy.

Right, men?

But are tattoos as interesting as they used to be?  Tattoos are so common in Los Angeles, that they hardly seem special anymore.  I’m more unique by NOT having a tattoo.

Years ago, tattoos were mostly for sailors and bikers, done by Thai “masseuses”  in seedy port cities too ugly even for the prostitutes.  Tattoos then became hip, and like Wall Street traders moving into the old drug warehouses of the Lower East Side, every upper-middle class white person wanted to be seen as faux- dangerous, at least on weekends.   So, the tattoo became a commodity.

I like tattoos that are visual and colorful.  I hate when the simplicity of body art become pretentious.  Wherever I go to a coffeehouse in Los Angeles, I always bump into someone with a tattoo that requires me to take out my reading glasses.  When did tattoos become so literary?

Is it the influence of celebrities?  (via US Magazine)

Here’s Meagan Fox, star of Transformers, that thought-provoking piece of bot cinema, with a quote from Shakespeare’s King Lear on her left shoulder, “We all laugh at gilded butterflies.”   This is clearly an actress who want to prove that she isn’t just pretty, but a wordsmith — akin to Pamela Anderson putting on a pair of fake librarian glasses to prove that she has an IQ as large as her fake boobs.

Angelina Jolie commemorates the birth of her children with, of course, Roman numerals on her arm.  Do I really have to remember what the roman symbols M and L stand for just to read the dates?!  Why not make it easy for us?

Lindsay Lohan writes “La Bella Vita” on her ass.  For some reason, I don’t believe this is true.

Victroria Posh Beckham, a Kabbalah fanatic, has a Hebrew psalm on her back, translated as “I am my love’s and my love is mine,” which just happens to be the exact same phrase Sophia and I used on the front of our wedding invitations years ago.  Maybe Sophia and I wouldn’t have as many problems today in our marriage if we had just tattooed our wedding vows on our backs instead.

I’ve thought about getting a tattoo for a long.  I’d like for women to see me as a little more dangerous, because I know that while most women want to marry the “nice guy,” they want to f**k the “bad boy” on the kitchen counter.  It’s time to become the bad boy.

This “What Am I Worth in Bed?” quiz has hit me where it hurts — my ego.   I should at least be worth $1000 as a male hooker.  The solution — only a tattoo can help monetize my sex life.

Today, that all changed.  I went down to Venice Beach and got a tattoo of one of my blog posts written directly on my back.

Surprisingly, when I retook the quiz, my worth dropped to $850.

Choose Your Own Blogventure

April 3, 2008 / / 23 Comments

(Note: I’ve always had a thing for librarians, especially when they take off their glasses and let their hair down, transforming themselves into the hottest chicks on the planet. And they like to read. Although, they usually have to put their glasses back on to do that. Nancypearl Wannabe blogs at Musings of a Semi-Coherent Mind. She is also a librarian. I had no choice but to say “yes, ma’am,” when she came up with this idea to create an online “Choose Your Own Adventure” book. The adventure story starts at her blog Friday morning at 10AM– start HERE — and then it is up to YOU to create your own unique version of the tale, depending on the choices you make, and which option you click. You’ll figure it out. There are 26 bloggers working on this story, none knows where the story is heading. Will it be coherent? Will it be a mess? That’s part of the adventure.)

Previous Section of the Story (You came here because you think Emma should ignore the zombie-like figure and continue to the Store 24)

continued —

Emma entered the brightly-colored Store 24 convenience store, grabbed a package of orange Hostess cupcakes, and went to pay the $1.25, all in quarters, tightly gripped in her right hand, just like she always did when she came in to buy her favorite treat. But where was Henri, the smiling French-Canadian owner of this franchise, the happy-go-lucky gentleman with the graying hair, the quick wit, and the polite manners, who would always say to Emma as she walked in, “A beautiful day, isn’t it?” in both English and French, and sometimes, when he was in a extra special good mood, in Ukrainian as well? It wasn’t like the proud and conservative-minded Henri, a man who kept a gun at his side at all times, to leave his store unguarded. Was he in any danger?

Just then, Henri rushed out of the stock room. He was not in any trouble. He was fine. In fact, he appeared quite dapper. He was dressed in a top hat and polished black tap shoes. He was also wheeling a large red Samsonite suitcase.

“Henri! What’s going on?” asked Emma. “Where are you going?”

“I’m done with the convenience store business,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I want to follow my dream – to be a Broadway hoofer! I’m leaving this podunk town and moving to the Big Apple.”

Henri jumped onto the front counter and started to do a little tap dance, right in the empty space near the cash register, between the beef jerky and the TV Guides.

“Gotta dance! Gotta dance!” he sang with gusto.

“But what about the store?” cried Emma, trying to reason with him. “How will it survive?”

“Why don’t YOU take it over,” he said, pointing right at her. “You know more about the products at Store 24 than anyone.”

Emma paused, her head spinning. Had Henri gone crazy from breathing in the fumes from the Orange Slush machine?

“Hey, I have a better idea!” shouted Henri, jumping down from the counter. “Why don’t you come with me to New York, where we can become lovers? We both know that you coming here all the time has nothing to do with orange Hostess cupcakes. You love me! Admit it!”

If you think Emma should go to New York with Henri, click here.

If you think Emma should take over the Store 24 franchise from Henri, click here.

Note: The other participants have terrific “pieces” of the story on their blog. There are so many good writers online. Check them out:

RA from Definitely RA
Chris from Brick Window
Aaron from Funky Carter
Neil from Citizen of the Month

Stefanie from Stefanie Says
Lara David from Life: The Ongoing Education
Srah from Srah Blah Blah
Mickey from The Prettiest Denny’s Waitress
Dutchess of Kickball from Average 20 Something
Jess from Du Wax Loolu

3Carnations from Thinking Some More
Erikka from The_Extra_Ordinary
Elisabeth from Elisabeth Writes
Noelle from The Daily Tannenbaum
Courtney from Malfeasance
Chloe from Groove Is Life

Kirsten from In A Western Place
Michelle from Michelle In The City
Vanessa from Crazy Says What
Jack from Box of Jack
Abbersnail from Bright Yellow World
Lara B. from Red Red Whine

Andrea from Fretting the Small Stuff
Beej from Neuteronomy
Sarah from Constantly Arriving

Mommybloggers: The Next Generation

April 2, 2008 / / 18 Comments

(OK pre-post information — just so there isn’t confusion with readers. The LA Times article about the cheerleaders is real, as are the quotes in italics.  Everything else is made up, including the stuff about the mother and cheerleader daughter at the end.  I was inspired by my blogging friend Erin (Queen of Spain), who wrote an interesting post about mommybloggers and how they should think of themselves as businesses. It made me wonder… why is this story about corporations using cheerleaders for marketing purposes any different? I only recently became interested in this subject of marketing and blogging because I’ve been reading all these discussions on Twitter. I didn’t realize that so many mommybloggers get freebies and invited to these corporate weekends.  I think it is great that bloggers get any type of opportunities, especially those who never had the chance before.   I just think this is a bad for blogging in general to go so corporate, as we’ll then begin to distrust what everyone says (is it marketing or not?).  Call me old-fashioned.

The post —

We always hear such bad news about today’s teenagers — low test scores, teen pregnancy, drug use, etc. — that it is nice to hear some positive news about our youth.

In today’s LA Times, there is an inspiring article about teenage girls who are true leaders, and using their skills to empower themselves.

For decades, cheerleaders have been the most popular girls in school. Their influence is unmatched. Other girls want to look like them, befriend them, and get the same type of attention from the boys. Cheerleaders, acknowledging their important role as influencers, are getting smart — joining with major firms in exciting strategic marketing alliances. After all, if a manufacturer wants to sell a new type of “teen” hairspray, why not go directly to those “who matter the most” — the prettiest girls — the cheerleaders.

“Forces are making it very difficult for advertisers to connect with young people,” said Samantha Skey, executive vice president of strategic marketing at Alloy Media & Marketing, a youth marketing agency. “So advertisers are going into schools, forging new platforms for youth connection.”

“My whole bathroom is full of stuff they give us,” said a freshman on the Rock Star Athletics cheerleading team.

Companies are smart to target cheerleaders, said Marlene Cota, vice president of corporate alliances at Varsity Brands Inc., the Memphis, Tenn., company that ran the competition in Anaheim, because they are often the girls others look up to.

At recent cheerleading camps across the country, Propel, a unit of Gatorade Co., sponsored “hydration breaks,” handing out “fitness water” after participants exercised; CoverGirl conducted a makeover tour, showing how to apply lip gloss and other cosmetic products; and Skintimate, a unit of S.C. Johnson & Son. Inc., sponsored an in-camp cheerleading competition to anoint a “Smooth Moves” champion.

“The girls literally screamed at each camp when they learned they would get free CoverGirl makeovers and samples,” company spokeswoman Anitra Marsh said.

Sarah Schneider, a 35 year old mother from Santa Monica, is proud of her fourteen year old daughter, Kristy, one of the “popular girls” at school, and a cheerleader.

“It took me 35 years and two therapists to figure out my personal “branding,” said Sarah, a popular mommyblogger also known as AOKMomma. “Kristy is lucky to have become an early adopter at her young age. All her friends look up to her, so it is only natural for her to promote products to them, especially to those who aren’t very popular or pretty. By using the product that she is promoting, the other girls can make believe that are as wonderful as Kristy. It’s exactly what I do on my blog with MY FRIENDS! I’m so proud that Kristy is following in my footsteps! The two of us have really bonded, mother and daughter, helping each better monetize our brands.”

Of course, a pair of influencers in one household can also have humorous side effects. Recently, Sarah published a series of blog posts promoting Degree anti-perspirant, after receiving several freebies in the mail. A week later, another package came with more samples of Degree. Was she supposed to be writing another post? Then, she noticed that the package was addressed to… her daughter!

“Kristy was throwing a Degree anti-perspirant Party with her cheerleader friends. We laughed so hard. We were both marketing the same product to our friends! But Kristy is so much more clever than I am. She came up with her own slogan for the party — and we wrote it on a big sign that read, “Be as Cool and Pretty as the Cheerleaders. Use Degree anti-perspirant.” All the less-attractive girls were buying the Degree samples from her, so much so that she made enough money to buy her own Guitar Hero 3 for the freebie Wii she got from Nintendo for promoting that to her friends at church. ! I have a feeling that one day, she’s going to have a blog that is even more popular than mine!”

How to Get Hot Chicks to Read Your Blog

April 2, 2008 / / 23 Comments

Every day, I receive an email from a different male blogger, always with the same complaint, “No women ever read my blog.  How do you get so many hot chicks to read Citizen of the Month?”

Men, take note.  This is the most important post that you will ever read.  My female readership is no accident.  It took years of experimentation and market research.  Most men make one major mistake when wooing a woman online:  they act as if they are wooing themselves. 

Here are three common ways that men act online, thinking they are impressing women.  Contrast these loser techniques with the NEILOCKA METHOD of successfully wooing a female blogger.

BAD TECHNIQUE 1

Write a post about how many “followers” you have on Twitter.

C’mon.  Seriously.  Who gives a sh*t?  Think about what women REALLY want —

NEILOCHKA’S SUCCESSFUL TECHNIQUE 1

Write a post about exotic sandwiches at an imaginary deli where no one gains any weight.

BAD TECHNIQUE 2

Message a cute mommyblogger, telling her that despite having three children, she still has amazing tits.

Women today do not like to be thought of as “a pair of tits.”   They are educated individuals who work hard on their careers and raising their children.

NEILOCHKA’S SUCCESSFUL TECHNIQUE 2

Message a cute mommyblogger, asking about her work and her three children, remembering each child’s name, and then telling her that despite having three adorable children — Aaron Jr., Millie, and Martha — she still has amazing tits.

BAD TECHNIQUE 3

E-mail a photo of your penis, making sure it is shot from a low angle to make it seem the size of one of the Transformers.

Believe it or not, women hate this.  It sends the message  that in any relationship, you will always be more in love with your penis than her.

NEILOCHKA’S SUCCESSFUL TECHNIQUE 2

Show her what you can do for HER with your fingers based on your nerdy skill of Japanese Pen Twirling.  Geeks rule!

Name Your Sandwich at Neilochka’s Virtual Kosher Deli

March 31, 2008 / / 104 Comments

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Blonde shiksa enjoying a “Neilochka”

Earlier today, I received a comment on my last post suggesting that it might be easier to earn immortality by having my own sandwich at a Jewish deli rather than creating a drink named a Neilochka.  Not a bad idea.  After all, half of you didn’t even know that a lemonade/iced tea was called an Arnold Palmer.  Clearly, my readers are lushes who only know the names of drinks with vodka or tequila inside.

I love the sandwich idea.  It totally fits my “branding.”  I love sandwiches.  I’m Jewish.   And there is something very sexy about a woman eating MY sandwich.

But I’m all about community.  In the spirit of the Great Interview Experiment, I believe that Everyone is a Somebody.  That’s why, today I am opening Neilochka’s Virtual Kosher Deli.   Think of it as a Subway extreme.  The options are unlimited.  You create your own sandwich — the meat, cheese, or vegetables, the condiments, and the type of bread — and then name it after yourself.

My sandwich, the Neilochka, is fairly simple, which reflects my personality.  Corned beef, sauerkraut, spicy wasabi mustard, on rye bread.  No cheese or vegetables.  Enjoy it for lunch.

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What is your sandwich?   Write it in the comments.

My Name is Ozymandias

March 31, 2008 / / 43 Comments

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During the coronation of a new Pope, it is traditional for a monk to hold up a burning piece of flax.  After it burns, the monk says, “Pater sancte, sic transit gloria mundi,” which is translated as “Holy Father, thus passes the glory of the world.”  Catholics are supposed to remember that despite the power of the Pope, he is still a mortal man.

This is how we get the expression — “Fame is fleeting.”

Bookfraud was down on himself last week because so many novelists publish their first novel before they are 30:  Jonathan Safran Foer, Zadie Smith and Gary Shteyngart.   And he felt that the deadline had passed.

I can relate.  We all want to be acknowledged for our work.  It would especially cool to be famous.

But let’s think about this “fame” business a bit.  Is writing a book really going to give us what we want?

Jonathan Safran Foer?  Gary Shteyngart?  Seriously, I bet you that 95% of the American public think these are the names of the two main characters on “Two and a Half Men.”

What is fame anyway?.  American Idol has millions of viewers, but how many of the contestants will be remembered?  How many CDs have you bought that were released by any of the former contestants?  Quick — who won the runner up in season two?

From 1915-1922, the biggest female box office star in Hollywood was Mary Pickford.  From 1923-1926, it was Norma Talmadge.  Other than Danny from Jew Eat Yet?, do any of you know anything about these hugely popular actresses — the superstars of their day?

The #1 Blog on Technorati is Techcrunch.  Enough said.  No one will remember Techcrunch in 100 years.

In Junior High, I was forced to memorize this poem.  At the time, I was too young to understand it.  But now —

OZYMANDIAS by Percy Shelley

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter’d visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp’d on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock’d them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Every single writer, politician, movie star, and celebrity will eventually be forgotten. 

But all is not hopeless.  There is one celebrity from today who will be remembered forever — Arnold Palmer.

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Yes, Arnold Palmer, was once the greatest golf player of the day.  But like, Mary Pickford, a person can only be at the top of the game for so long.  Eventually a Tiger Woods comes along, and everyone starts to ask, “Arnold who?”

Arnold Palmer, however, was a marketing genius.  He instinctively knew the lesson of Ozymandias.   By creating a drink — the Arnold Palmer — half lemonade/half ice tea — he did what no other celebrity could do — made sure that his name would be famous forever.  Just today, I was eating lunch in Beverly Hills, when I saw a beautiful women calling her waiter over to order an “Arnold Palmer,” her lips smacking in anticipation.   Can you imagine what it must be like to have women all around the world wanting you like that? 

Arnold Palmer is the only media consultant who deserves to speak about “branding” at web conferences.  Arnold Palmer — the ultimate brand.  There’s even a drink named after him.

I was once misguided enough to think that this blog would give me fame and glory.   Every day, people would wake up, rub their eyes, turn on their computers , and come to Citizen of the Month, ready to be astounded.   I had this illusion that even if  flying robots from Mars were destroying the United States outside, my loyal readers would not flee for their lives until they finished writing a witty comment on my latest post. 

But is this loyalty a constant? 

Already, I’m noticing newer and more exciting blogs catching your eye, your attention spans dulled by years of MTV, video games, and prescription drugs. 

Luckily, I have a plan for when this blog loses its buzz.  The Neilochka —  1/3 Pomegranate Juice, 1/3 Cranberry Juice, and 1/3 Seltzer.

Please, start ordering it NOW at your favorite watering hole.  Remember to order it by NAME.  “I’ll have a Neilochka.”

This is the only way it will catch on, insuring that my name will live in glory forever.

The Year, 2246

Bar, Moon of Saturn Outpost #23A

Beautiful Female Cyborg:  I’ll have a Neilochka, straight up!

Bartender:  Excellent choice.  Coming up!

Beautiful Female Cyborg:  I’ve been wanting a Neilochka all day.  I’ve always wondered why this delicious drink is called a Neilochka.

Bartender:  At Harvard Bartending School, they taught us that Neilochka created this drink.  He was a famous blogger about 200 years ago. 

Beautiful Female Cyborg:  He must have been an amazing person.  No one could create this wonderful drink without having been super talented.  If I lived back then, I would have definitely f**ked him.  What else do you know about him?

Bartender:  Supposedly he was very famous.  Very popular.  Did this thing called blogging.

Beautiful Female Cyborg:  Blogging?  What the hell is that?

Bartender:  I have no idea.  But, he’s certainly remembered for this drink!  I better stop talking and get back to work before I’m dooced.

How a Woman is Like a 1985 Ford Mustang

March 28, 2008 / / 41 Comments

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Today, I received an email from Eddie in Ohio, who was crazy about some two year old post of mine titled Neil’s Penis’s Dating Rules for Men.    He liked it so much that he actually tried to follow these rules… in real life.   What an honor.   Sure it f**ked up his relationship with his girlfriend, and now he’s sitting home playing online poker and eating Papa John’s Pizza rather than getting laid, but at least I feel like a true inspirational role model, like a cooler and less informed Dr. Phil.

“You should write for a man’s magazine.” wrote Eddie.,

Eddie, I absolutely agree.    I’m wasting my time here on this blog writing for zilch.    You hear that — Details magazine!    If you pay me, I’m ready to start writing articles such as, “Is Being Well Hung the Key to Happiness?”

The only problem with my new career writing for the guys is that I’m not well-versed in typical male hobbies like March Madness, NASCAR, beer-drinking, or video games where you shoot the heads off of zombies.   Luckily, Google makes it easy to do all sorts of research, so I can fake it as much as anyone else.

Eddie, as a thank you for you nice email — I’ve written a men’s magazine article just for you.   Think of this blog as an online version of Maxim magazine, except without the photos of the girls in the thongs. 

How a Woman is Like a 1985 Ford Mustang

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A woman is beautiful. 

The 1985 Ford Mustang is beautiful. 

In many ways, a woman is stronger than a man. 

The 1985 Ford Mustang is equipped with low-friction roller tappets and a new high-performance camshaft that lifted the carbureted H.O. V-8 to 210 horsepower, an impressive 35-horsepower increase from the year before.

A woman is shapely, and you can play with her for hours. 

The 1985 Ford Mustang comes with beefier P225/60VR15 “Gatorback” tires on seven-inch-wide cast-aluminum wheels, both lifted from the SVO, plus variable-rate springs, gas-pressurized front shock absorbers, higher-rate rear shocks, and a thicker rear antiroll bar. A three-spoke SVO-style steering wheel freshened the interior (a running change from mid-’84), as did revised dashboard and door-panel trim and comfortable new multi-adjustable bucket seats by Lear Siegler.

Before making love to a woman for the first time, a man should remember these six important steps.

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Before driving a 1985 Ford Mustang from Los Angeles to Las Vegas in the middle of the summer, a man should remember these six important steps.

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Therapy is Making Me into a Humorless Twit

March 26, 2008 / / 91 Comments

I have to keep the eye on the prize, which is to express myself honestly and openly on my blog, have fun, and not take it too seriously.   I need to be grateful for all the cool people who stop by this blog, and treat everyone as worthy individuals with an innate need to express their ideas and personality.   I need to not take people for granted.   I need to comment and read your blogs as consistently as you do mine.   I need to accept the fact that I have lost touch with some bloggers, and it is OK to feel a little sad about it.  I need to be open about all blogging opportunities that I hear about, so they can be available to as many as possible.  I shouldn’t be afraid of thinking of this blog as the best blog in the world simply because I write it, just as your blog should be YOUR best blog in the world, and I should acknowledge that when I come to visit.   I need to respect other writers for the quality of their work and the openness of their spirit, whether they are writing exquisite poetry or stupid gags, both which have an important role to play in society.   I need to remember that a good blog doesn’t necessarily make them a caring person, and that an amazing individual might not be able to put down in words everything that is in his or her heart.  I need to acknowledge that the blogosphere can be as cliquish as high school, and that I should accept it, ignore it, and mock it for comic effect.   I hope that I will be made fun of by others when I am hypocritical.  I need to be wary of marketers or all types, those trying to sell me products and ideas that are more for their benefit than my own, even if there is a short-lived profit for me or my blog.   I should always weigh the benefits to myself with the effects on others.  I need to remember that modern man has ADD, and will constantly be talking about “what’s new” and “what’s hot,” forgetting that telling stories and chatting about nothing has been going on since we lived in caves, way  before the arrival of Twitter and Facebook.   I need to dig deeper than the surface and understand that despite all the talk about “branding” and “linking” and “A-listers,” the blogosphere is mostly about imperfect humans looking for affection, love, and connection in a somewhat lonely and isolating world.

Jewish Jokes My Mother Emailed Today

March 25, 2008 / / 20 Comments

I get this question all the time:  How can you let your mother read your blog every day, filled as it is with orgies and naked women?  The answer:  my mother has a good sense of humor, well at least in an old-fashioned Catskills-Jewish sort of way.  Today I’d like to share with you today’s email from my mother, chock full of corny but heart-felt ethnic humor.

My Mother’s Jewish Joke #1 —

Written across the wall of the cave were the following symbols:

hebrew2.jpg

It was considered a unique find and the writings were said to be at least three thousand years old!

The piece of stone was removed, brought to the museum, and archaeologists from around the world came to study the ancient symbols. They held a huge meeting after months of conferences to discuss the meaning of the markings.

The President of the society pointed to first drawing and said: “This is a woman. We can see these people held women in high esteem. You can also tell they were intelligent, as the next symbol is a donkey, so they were smart enough to have animals help them till the soil. The next drawing is a shovel, which means they had tools to help them.”

hebrew2.jpg

Even further proof of their high intelligence is the fish which means that if a famine hit the earth and food didn’t grow, they seek food from the sea. The last symbol appears to be the Star of David which means they were evidently Hebrews.

The audience applauded enthusiastically.

hebrew2.jpg

Then an old Jewish man named Shlomo stood up in the back of the room and said, “Idiots, Hebrew is read from right to left…… It says: “Holy Mackerel, Dig The Ass On That Chick!”

My Mother’s Jewish Joke #2  

(note to the shiksas — horseradish is what you put on the gefilte fish at Passover)

While few of the traditional seder foods trace their origins as far back as matzoh, it should be noted that the lowly horseradish root also crossed the Red Sea with the fleeing Israelites.

As impoverished slaves, they had access to few vegetables and the hard and woody horseradish was a household staple.

While most of the fleeing Israelites carried with them horseradish, there is a story told of one family where, while gathering up their few belongings, discovered that they had no horseradish left in their house. The wife sent her husband into the field to dig up a large horseradish root, but in the darkness and confusion, he unearthed a large ginger root by mistake. 

The story continues that after forty years of wandering in the desert, the Israelites finally entered the promised  land. But it was another year before the family with the ginger arrived to settle among the rest of the Israelites.

When asked where they had been, the matriarch of the family, now grown old, shrugged and answered, “My husband insisted on taking an alternate root.”

Thanks, Mom!

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