OK so what year is it in England? Really. I was just watching a few episodes of Coupling on BBC On Demand… and why do all the TV shows on BBC look like they were shot in the sixties? The production values are just so low… If their dollar is so fancy, why can’t they reinvest in some new camera equipment for the broadcast network? BBC? B.C. is more like it.
Ha! Zinger! That was almost clever…
People are always talking about how the British version of every show is better. The Office. WhatÂ Not to Wear.Â Coupling vs. Friends… And while its true–they’re clever and veryÂ entertaining–for me it’s like watching some of those classic old black-and-white films. They’re good once you get in to them, but they don’t look real appealing from the outside.Â Kinda like chicken pot pie. OK, that last comment lets me know that this blog should be over now. Over.
There are some things I’m modest about. Others, not so much.
But lately the thing I’ve found myself most proud of are my AMAZING (and I do mean A-MAAAAY-ZING) parallel parking skills. I promise you I can parallel park in a spot that’s literally too small for my car and still have 3 inches of space in the front and back (and by ‘literally’ of course I mean, I’m a comedian and prone to exaggeration). I secretly love to be in the car with someone who is a poor parallel parker because there’s always a chance they’ll ask me to help them get into a spot.
On more than one occasion, I’ve pulled my car into a particularly tight space on my way to meet friends, and then forced them to come back outside with me and see what a good job I did. I know it’s a disease. I feel like Rain Man… “I’m really an excellent parker. Dad let me drive slow on the driveway.”
But I really am good.
Almost two years ago, I moved into the place I live in now and it’s a one-way street. At first I found it challenging. Why, you ask? Well because I was a much better parallel parker on the right side of the street than on the left… Though I’m sure that even then, I was a better left-side-of-the-street parallel parker than any of you reading this.
Did I mention that I’m also a really big shit talker?
Anyway, the one-way street parking has only enhanced my skills–and what will one day (I’m sure) be a legendary career in parallel parking. Really. There are sports for so many ridiculous things. Why shouldn’t I be able to park competitively? Maybe not in 2012, but I’m gonna petition for that in the 2016 Olympic games for sure. Curling? What?Â Parking is where it’s at, son.
EJ. Future World Parking Champ. Out.
Yes, another double dose of blognificence. I couldn’t not share… This is a priceless comment left on a story on The New Republic’s site that I found on the Atlantic’s site… Oh whatever. The post was about the large turnoutÂ in the Hawaii caucus.Â Enjoy.
This just goes to show that Obama only wins in states that hold contested elections. Sure, he wins big in caucus states, he wins big in primary states, he wins big when turnout is low, and he wins big with record-high turnout. But what the Obama-worshipping media is overlooking is that in each of the 25 state contests Obama has won so far, his name appeared on the ballot. It’s time to stop giving Obama a pass on this critical issue.
Remember, if Hillary Clinton wins the Democratic nomination, Barack Obama’s name will not be on the ballot in November. And only Hillary Clinton has demonstrated that she can win when Obama’s name is not on the ballot. In fact, she’s undefeated in contests where Obama is not on the ballot, making her clearly the more electable general-election candidate.
Have you ever had someone shout an insult at you, and you knew it was bad, but you also had no idea what the heck it meant?… I was listening to a prank CD–I’ll Slap You to Sleep–by buddy and hilarious comedian Roy Wood, Jr. of roywoodjr.com…suckas, and I heard an 87 year-old woman refer to the woman who set her up for the prank as a “Shit house shorty”… wait I’m sorry an “International shit house shorty.” Huh? Roy didn’t know either.
Clearly the use of the word ‘shit’ lets me know it was an insult, but what kind of insult? I’m guessing it wasn’t racial. Doesn’t sound like she’s calling her a ho. Is this equivalent to the ‘b’ word? Is it aÂ jab about this woman’s mama or her kids?
If someone said this to me, for real, I’d be like could you please explain that random ass insult as I’d like to know exactly why I’m headed to jail. I don’t wanna be explaining myself to the cops like, “Well yeah I hit the old lady. No, I’m not sure what it means. When do I get to call my mama?” I wanna at least be able to rile up someone behind me… “But what would you have done, officer? She called me a shit house shorty. I mean, what other option did I have?” Random.
Also random is the response I got from someone I didn’t know about the blog I posted yesterday. I thought only my friends read this blog. Hahaha… This Internet thing is WILD. Anyway, apparently she confused erinjackson.net for MSNBC and wanted to set me straight on a few issues… I’m glad she found the blog however she found it, and I’m glad she left a comment because now I can tell the rest of you about it and laugh. I’m not in the habit of commenting on the blogs of people I don’t know or haven’t met… unless its like a major blog like the Daily Dish or something like that. Anyways, hope y’all have a good weekend. I’m off to Ocala, Florida tomorrow to kick it with the gators and the wild horses… Y’all remember my boy Frank I met last year while I was down there…
Holler at you on the other side. Jackson, out.
This is one of my favorite pieces of art in D.C. It’s a sculpture called The Awakening and for the last 28 years, it’s resided at Hains Point in D.C.’s East Potomac Park. It’s huge — like 100 feet long and though a lot of people think it’s creepy, I think it’s beautiful.
Hains Point sits right on the Potomac andÂ has always been my favorite summer cool-out spot. On Sundays people just drive up there and play music, chill at the picnic areas… And whenever I have friends visit I love to take them there. In college my girl Jess and I spent more than a few drunken nights climbing the statue and taking ridiculous photos–none of which I’m willing to post here. “Look it’s grabbing my butt. Now you sit in the hand…” Oh those were the days…
But today they’re digging up the statue and moving it to a burgeoning new ‘hot spot’ in Prince George’s County–the National Harbor. Some guy bought it for like three-quarters of a million dollars and it’s now gonna “anchor the main promenade at Prince George’s County’s National Harbor project.”
Well, booooooo! P.G. County needs to get their own damn statue and leave ours the hell alone. Really rich guy? Just “I want that one!” like Michael Jackson in that souvenir store? Y’all remember what I’m talking about… If you have $750,000 to spend, you could have just paid someone to build you your own. I hate rich people. I can’t wait til I’m rich so I can give some rich people a piece of my mind.
Alright, so this isn’t even a funny joke. Lord, let this be a joke…
What we need at a time like this is more Reh Dogg…
“I jacked it up but I couldn’t get the nut off. I don’t know why. I’m usually really good at it.”
I said this to my old boss a few years ago. I was explaining that I was late because I had problems changing a flat tire. I didn’t realize why she was blushing until a while after I’d walked away. Sometimes life is funnier than any joke you can write.
Random memory on a slow blog day. You’re welcome.