Had enough? Give Revolution a try!

After dreams of being a pop music sensation were crushed by a talent manager, Ackmed decided on a career as an murdering bastard was more suited for him.

"The world is watching". President Obama's words were spot on when he spoke about the fall out after the rigged Iranian election. I have been transfixed on the #Iranelection twitter feed for days. Or cursing and conspiring as to why CNN has failed so miserably to tell the story of the brave people of Iran who are fighting for freedom.

I would like to see the same thing in this country. Yes I said it. Revolution. I voted for President Obama and stand by him but I have absolutely zero faith in our government whatsoever. I do not believe the elections in 2000 or 2004 were legitimate. There's no way to tell if our last election was legit because there was no way we were putting an old white dude in the White House. End of story.

Democracy to Americans I feel is best represented in those magnetic ribbons people put on the back of their cars that say "support the troops".

It's easy to just slap that on your mini-van and call it being patriotic. It's not a lot of work. Lazy, fat and stupid that's how us Americans like it.

It's difficult to picture Americans taking it to the streets to demand equal rights for all, accountability and transparency of our politicians and re-instilling our Constitution into the framework of our country. However, since the invention of Tivo this has become more of a possibility because you can't protest if American Idol is on.

"People should not be afraid of their governments, governments should be afraid of their people."

I know what you are all saying now.

Oh hey! That's that quote from V for Vendetta! I love that movie man.

No. Actually it was a guy named Thomas Jefferson. He was the third president of our country and get this! The dude was nutso for revolution! Yea but you certainly weren't taught that in elementary school were you. You see back in the day those people with bad teeth on the other side of all that water were being really shitty to us when we were just getting going over here.

The Brits were all up in our shit so a whole bunch people said "fuck this!" and got together so they didn't have to put up with their shit no mo.

That's how we have to teach history to young America now so get used to it.

If you want to know something even crazier this Jefferson guy had a great idea to make sure all Americans had guns so the next time a tyrannical government got all up in their shit and all the people said "fuck this!" they wouldn't have to throw rocks.

Don't believe me?

"God forbid we should ever be twenty years without such a rebellion. The people cannot be all, and always, well informed. The part which is wrong will be discontented, in proportion to the importance of the facts they misconceive. If they remain quiet under such misconceptions, it is lethargy, the forerunner of death to the public liberty. ...

And what country can preserve its liberties, if it's rulers are not warned from time to time, that this people preserve the spirit of resistance? Let them take arms. The remedy is to set them right as to the facts, pardon and pacify them. What signify a few lives lost in a century or two? The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time, with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is its natural manure."

Yea crazy ain't it? He thought the blood of politicians and militia men was the shit that kept this country so great! This dude was our pres, the head cheese and it would probably be safe to say that he had a feeling that the American Revolution would not be the first. I think he would be extremely disappointed to know that it was not only the first but the only one.

I will go back to humbly observe the fight for freedom and democracy in Iran. Those people are in my thoughts and prayers. They have my undying support but it is not my fight. This is my country for all its open sores, rotting flesh and putrid stench it's my country and I love every inch of it.

I'll love it even more when everyone finally says "fuck it!"

With Love & Respect,

Mike James

The Hilarity of Failure

Another failed suicide attempt. Jimmy then sought counseling.

There are times were I look at other people in awe of their own stupidity and complete ignorance to the world around them. Daily I see people waltzing through life like a sleepwalker lost in their own kitchen. It's risky waking sleepwalkers but then again some of them may need a good dose of on-set epilepsy if it will wake them the fuck up.

I don't want to come off as insensitive though. I simply have no sympathy for those who aren't willing to help themselves. It's a vicious cruel world full of leeches and vermin who are looking to infest every inch of peace and tranquility you have worked so hard for.

If you can't tell I'm still recovering from my numerous encounters with the violent cockroaches that occupied my kitchen. PTSD for crummy Hollywood studios I suppose. But all that is behind me now. I was once one of the sheep that bah incessantly and are easily corralled, then I turned 12 and decided it was time to grow up.

I've definitely never considered myself a bully but have never missed an opportunity to have a good laugh at someone else's expense. Since I am someone who is constantly offering comedic material for those around me to laugh at, most of it coming from my many epic fails, I figured I could share a couple of my favorite stories of huge fuck-ups & fails that I have witnessed.

Of course names have been changed to protect those involved but as usual I'll give you the details how I saw them, in all their insanely ridiculous but unbelievably factual glory.

"Deaf Or Just Dumb?"

I was in Canada a few years ago working on Parliament Hill. A simple google search of Canadian Parliament will give you hours of scandalous reading on controversy and shadiness. What drew me to Canadian politics was their transparency and attempt at accountability for their elected officials. It was no shock to me during my time on The Hill that Canada's politicians were just as morbidly corrupt as ours but that there wasn't a constant dependence on deceiving the public.

The irony that I find magnificent in this story is that it is a wonderful example of having the obvious right in your face yet completely ignoring it.

We want to believe that our elected officials have our best interests in heart when deep down inside you know they are running high dollar whores in and out the door as fast as you can say "bail out" and ripping rails of cocaine on G4's that would make Keith Richards look like a girl scout.

One night in Ottawa I went out drinking with some of our country's most elite students that are all aspiring politicians, ambassadors and heads of state. I was the only one out of the group that was working for the news network when everyone else was positioning for future political hook-ups. As if they weren't already privileged enough.

I've drank all around the world and with many different groups of people from all backgrounds and all ages. But I've never met such a specific type of person than the type of person that wants to either get into 1.) Law or 2.) Politics that has a more hellacious thirst for alcohol and craziness.

My closest friend during my stay in Canada told me within minutes of meeting him that he would be the governor of Alabama and one day be a Congressman in our Nation's Capitol. Then he pinched the ass of some unsuspecting girl walking past and asked me if I wanted to smoke a cigarette with him.

I said yes and could barely contain my excitement for meeting such a person.

The first couple of nights we would go out and drink we were just like kids on Christmas Eve excited to meet another person that was just as much a political junkie as the other. We got hammered and screamed at each other about foreign policy and other issues.

The third night we went out we finally had the nerdiness out of our system and began to talk to girls. I met a tall brunette from Michigan right off the bat and completely lost track of my friend. We will call him Al.

Al came up to me and said that he had met some girl that was going to take him back to her place. He pointed her out from across the bar and she waved her hands around in a very strange manner of a greeting. She was cute. I said that's awesome and we should all do some shots together. He agreed and said to wait there while he went to get her. He didn't come back.

After awhile the girl I was with asked about my friend I was with. I had completely forgotten about him and started searching the bar for him. No sign. I went outside. No sign.

After a full 10 minutes of looking for my friend the search & rescue efforts were exhausted and I suggested to the Michigan girl we continue the search on the way back to my room.

Fast forward to the next morning. I'm standing in the bathroom filling up a container of water, eyes clinched shut and head pressed up against the mirror in agony. Then Al burst through the bathroom door (shared bathrooms. we were living in the dormitories of University of Ottawa) wearing the same clothes he was the night before.

Al: Mike James!!!

Me: Al?! Where did you go? I looked for you forever?

Al: I went home with a chick with a speech impediment.

Me: What?

Al: At least I went home with her. I didn't wake up with her.

Me: That chick that waved at me? That's the last time I saw you.

Al: Yea that chick. But it didn't go so well dude.

Me: What happened?

Al: Well I had a hard time understanding what she was saying because of her speech impediment. It was really pissing me off because I hate asking people to repeat themselves.

Me: Wait a minute dude...

Al: Yea so I ordered those shots and you were all about that girl so I just took yours. I followed her out to smoke a cigarette after that.

Me: By any chance did you actually ask her if she wanted that cigarette....or ask her any questions for that matter?

Al: What? No. Your the fucking journalist with the questions. Jesus, you are all the same!

Me: Just go on dude...

Al: Well I walk back with her to her house and we are at her door. I go to kiss her and she starts talking all this gibberish again. Now I'm pissed.

Me: Oh please don't tell me....

Al: Oh no Mike James you would of been proud of me. I gave that cock tease a lesson for leading me on like that. I let her have it man. I gave her an ear full for every guy that has been toyed with like that. Then I stormed off and bought a pint of Canadian Mist. Woke up in front of an office building a few blocks away.

Me: This pains me to say but did you ever think that maybe she was deaf?

Al: As in a zombie?

Me: No, as in she can't hear.

Al: Ohhhhhhhh shit Mike James. I think you might be right.

FAIL.

"Job Interview"

I had a buddy in college, let's call him Carlos, who was an elementary education major. There was one big problem with his career choice. He hated kids. Despised kids. He loathed everything about kids and made it very apparent that his skin curdled at the smell of children.

Nonetheless he stuck with his choice and obviously had lots of trouble with it. He would be routinely reprimanded for swearing at his students and calling them names they hadn't even learned yet.

Can't say he didn't teach them anything I guess.

Anyway my buddy Carlos was a boozer and had a genuine love of specific pharmaceuticals. Truly a model influence on our youth. So, he decided one day the class room wasn't where he was making a difference. I then asked him what happened when you threw something up in the air. His answer hinted at the idea gravity so I recognized he was experiencing a moment of clarity.

He believed his calling was in a youth center. Coaching, helping and aiding youths in need. Warn them about going down the wrong path. It was touching really. Until he told me about his job interview with the Jewish Children's Refuge of Indianapolis.

He told it in great detail.

His interview he told me was a two-parter. First a series of standard questions with the supervisor to make sure you aren't a psycho and second was a physical test. My friend Carlos had recently decided to quit smoking cigarettes to go with his new focus on the children and was taking a medication that completely eliminated the want or need for nicotine but left very inconvenient side effects. One being that if the person taking the medication did any physical activity whatsoever one would thus become violently ill. I will emphasis violently ill as in projectile vomiting.

Carlos being a charming and good looking individual had no problem with the first part of the interview. They were completely sold they were about to hire a very Jewish, very wholesome young man that wanted to aid in the prospering of young minds.

Carlos had no idea the second part of the test was a life guard certification course and he would be required to swim many laps in the pool very fast. He hadn't anticipated having to reveal the many tattoos that covered his body. One of which was a big black Gothic cross on his chest. This is something that is not exactly common among Jewish people so you wouldn't be surprised to hear that this nice old Rabi that was timing him was pretty upset when Carlos took off his shirt.

75 timed laps would be hard for anyone to do. It would be impossible to do if you were being eye balled by many sets of disapproving parents, hung over, on a certain medication that warned of projectile vomiting if taken under any physical activity and most importantly if you've never met angry Rabi or a happy Rabi for that matter.

On the second lap of Carlo's swim test he began to puke. Kids with floaties around their arms cried and stretched their little arms to their parents while my friends' yack floated down stream. A panic ensued and it only worsened when he fell getting out of the pool and busted his head open running to a trash can. Blood spewed down his tattooed and offensively scrawny frame.

He explained to me with tears in his eyes, of laughter not remorse mind you, how the Rabi told him to sit there and bleed and puke in the trash can while they taped the contaminated area off, evacuated the people inside and told Carlos to get the fuck out of their youth center as soon as the lands keeper was able to stretch a hose around to the pool.

As far as I know Carlos no longer works with children.

FAIL.

I'll return with more stories this week.

"Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes." -Oscar Wilde

With Love & Respect,

Mike James

Victory in Silverlake

Uncle Leroy's best birthday ever quickly changed when everyone told him it was a fake lottery ticket. We're sorry Uncle Leroy. 

They say a picture says a thousand words. I could leave you with that and the picture of this gentleman to describe how it feels to finally be done moving and getting settled in to my new spot but then you wouldn't be able to enjoy the comedic value of the hell that is moving. 

Anyone that has moved before would agree they would gladly take a prostate exam before having to move their crap somewhere else. Which is ironic because considering how uncomfortable a prostate exam at least your shit stays put and its over soon. 

I have finally settled in kicked my feet back and exhaled in my new quaint apartment nestled into corner of the city that feels like a place called home. My view now is of the Silverlake hills dotted by expensive boxes topped with stucco instead of another building a few feet away and  only a fourth of a visible tree. 

No doubt this is a major upgrade. I feel like a conquering warrior to go from where I was to where I am now. Specifically where I am at is my bedroom. Yup, I got a bedroom. It's another place to go besides the other rooms at my place. Wow, OTHER ROOMS. 

Like everything in California the real estate market is strange. I met a couple renters that were rather aggressive in their questioning about my qualifications. One guy that showed me a place in Burbank looked and sounded exactly like a skinnier more health conscious version of The Comic Book guy on The Simpsons.

Picture this but keep in mind I'm also twenty minutes late. 

Me: I'm so sorry dude I was downtown and the 101 is a fucking parking lot. 

Comic Book Guy: You said you would be twenty minutes late. 

Me: Ah yea I rounded it down. I've been a bunch of places today and I'm not the best multi-tasker. 

Comic Book Guy: What intersection where you at downtown?

(This is the first lie Comic Book catches me in but not the last before this visit is finished.)

Me: I was at um...3rd and 4th. 

(I was actually in Hollywood standing in line at the Kogi BBQ truck. I seriously would do terrible things for an endless supply of their short ribs.)

Comic Book Guy: That just doesn't make any sense those streets run parallel with one another. Did you mean or instead of and?

Me: Either. I mean it was  3rd st...ish. 

Comic Book Guy: Well let's go inside so I can show you the unit before you waste any more of my time. 

We go inside. 

Comic Book Guy: As you can see their is new carpeting downstairs and it's all wood upstairs. If you must paint the walls I suggest only painting upstairs unless you think you can avoid getting any paint on the newly installed carpet in this particular unit. 

Me: No dude it's cool. That shade of green matches my bong beautifully. 

(The scowl that was in development when I walked up has now blossomed into a full fledged V on his forehead.)

Comic Book Guy: There will be no DRUUUUUUGS on the premises. 

Me: I just joking with you. 

Comic Book Guy: Tell me what it is that you do please. 

Me: You probably wouldn't think it's very funny if I told you I was an out of work comedian would you?

Comic Book Guy: Not one bit. 

Me: Fine. I'm a non-sexual male escort. So how's the parking? 

Comic Book Guy: Do you think you are funny or something I've had a lot of trouble in the past with young people that is why I have to ask these questions. I need to know you will not be a disturbance. 

Me: Trust me sir I'm as quiet as they come. I mean I don't look like someone who enjoys loud music, jokes and pot do I?

So Burbank is lame anyway why would I want to live there? When I finally found this place it was obvious that this would be where I planted roots. 

A Roadman for The Lords of Karma has to always be ready to move. You never know when duty will call and where it will beckon from. I've lived many different places in my 23 years, some of them longer than others but each place I have stayed no manner for how long each experience shares a common thread. Packing up and leaving. It sucks. Not always because you totally over packed, over slept and running late but sometimes it because you have to leave. 

As I was sweeping my empty studio in Hollywood I thought about all the places over the last few years that I've left and how even though I loved where I was at during the time I was there I was so anxious and excited to move on to something else, something new. 

Then I saw this gigantic dust ball that had collected behind my computer desk. I mean this thing was massive. I thought if I believed in Voodoo magic I could form a dust ball doll with it by tying it together with twine and have some sort of black magic control over apartment 303. Then I realized that was ridiculous and went back to thinking deep thoughts. 

Several years ago Italy was difficult to leave. Mainly because there was ice on the run way that delayed our plane 45 minutes but also because of it being the first time I had ventured out to find a life changing experience and had found it. 

That's life. Sometimes you stay sometimes you go. I've been doing a lot of going lately (Editor's Note: Mike has already used up his one prostate joke for this issue. The following joke has been altered. Thank you.) I think I'll stay here for awhile. 

With Love & Respect, 

Mike James 

Relocation

A species that disproves evolution: The Hollywood Douche Bag

Ok, I'll admit it. When I moved to Hollywood a year ago after graduating college. I had no fucking clue what I was doing. None. No job. No friends. No clue. 

I figured if I wanted to do entertainment a good starting point would be placing myself smack dab in center of the shit storm and ride it out from there. I've always been the type of person that tosses the directions right out the window and starts in on the project at hand. Once I've failed miserably several times I'll eventually go back and look for the directions I tossed out the window cursing wildly but the point is that I like just figuring stuff out myself. 

When asked what I planned to do once I arrived in Los Angeles my answer was simple, confident and unflinching. 

"Dominate" I would say stone-faced. 

What I planned or am still planning to dominate is your guess as good as mine but it sounds pretty good doesn't it?

My swift decision on the studio I've lived in a few blocks from Hollywood Blvd. and Vine for the past year was a risky move. I paid for April when I wouldn't move in until mid-May but I had found my residence, my starting point in the eye of the storm. 

To fully grasp the hub of insanity and safe-haven for Tom foolery I moved into would take more time than I'm willing to give right now because I'm moving up out of this bitch. 

That's right. The Hollywood Holla will no longer be broadcasting live from Hollywood but really what difference does it make. Hollywood is a world renown symbol of ridiculousness, it's not just a portion of Los Angeles. Moving east of Western Ave. doesn't change the content of my blog or my campaign for domination. 

I'm moving to Silverlake in hopes of finding a job, finding inspiration and less annoying local wildlife (i.e. see picture above). Moving is almost as big a pain in the ass as getting locked up in the federal pen with a roommate that is a 7 foot black dude named  Bubba. 

I've had the spirit of a Spartan warrior in packing up and relocating. It might be that my new place is in a prime location to enjoy the full benefits of Silverlake's nightlife or it could be that at night I get drunk and have OK Corral style shoot outs with a can of Raid against the roaches in my kitchen.  

Last night a big, hairy, beast of a roach actually said to me...

"I'm your huckleberry."

I like to move around anyway. I'm a rather restless person. One time in elementary school while waiting to see the nurse after cutting my knee on the playground I busted my chin open trying to do a headstand on the chair I was supposed to be sitting in to impress Ashely Farney. 

Silverlake is a wonderful community of artists I'm told so obviously some ornery, goofy, smart ass like me needs to go piss on their pretentious parade. It may not be pretentious though, in fact I'm pretty confident my new hood will not be lame in anyway. It won't be lame at least until I find another place that I think is interesting. 

That's how it goes for a Road Man for The Lords of Karma. No place is much different than the last on the road. I thought Indiana was the most atrocious cesspool of despair than anywhere else on the planet until I went somewhere else. It's so easy to find focus on the negative aspect of where you are. Like the fact that "possum beating" is a legitimate activity where I grew up or that selling your soul won't even get you a parking space in Hollywood. 

It's just another chapter. Stories have been banked. Wisdom has been gained. Girls have not come as easy as college. 

Vos ago , Vos perceptum

I look forward to new territory to explore like you all should look forward to future tales of epic nature, from me, right here...Cheers!

With Love & Respect, 

Mike James 

My Top Five Awkward Moments Caused by Bluetooth Headsets

I'm throwing that bluetooth off a cliff with it still in your ear. 

Today I had a really awkward moment with a guy outside of a Kinko's because he was on his bluetooth headset when I didn't realize it. Then I thought "holy shit, this is like the fifth most awkward moment I've experienced because of bluetooth head sets". Then I realized "holy shit, why haven't I shared any of my awkward bluetooth stories?" 

So here is my count down of top five most awkward experiences I have ever had because of bluetooth head sets. 

5.) "The very emotional man out side the door of the Kinko's on Vine."

So I went to the Kinko's on Vine today to make some moves aka print shit out. When I was done I was walking out the door and it was half cracked open. Me being lanky, skinny and lazy I just walked out through the cracked open door instead of exerting just a little bit more effort by opening it. As I was walking out a small, bald and middle aged man was walking in. 

Nobody will do anything for me now! 

He shouted in my face before abruptly turning around and walking a few feet back. 

Wow, dude chill out. 

I should have just walked away because my initial reaction was "dickhead" but his shoulders drooped and he paced like he was not getting a toy he wanted. It made me feel bad. 

This anxiety has built up to a breaking point and I just can't take it anymore. 

The guy gets in his car and slams the door shut. 

I thought to myself. 

What the fuck did I just do to this guy? Was I just the straw that broke the camel's back on this psycho killer who just needed to make a color copy? 

I ran up to the car hood and yelled at him. 

Yo, I'm sorry dude. I didn't see you walking in. Don't freak. Life is beautiful. 

He slowly sticks his head out his window with the most confused look on his face I have ever seen on a human being. 

Hold on one second....

He slowly stuck his head out the window revealing a bluetooth head set in his ear. 

What the hell are you talking about?

I quickly turned around and walked to my car astonished at the fact that this was now becoming a regular experience. 

4.) "Guy at the bar that just won't give me the sports page"

A few months ago I was eating lunch at The Shack in Santa Monica. I was enjoying some blue ribbon awarded PBR beers and a burger while reading the paper. I finished the front section and saw the guy sitting down from me at the bar had the rest of the paper. I leaned over and asked for the sports page. 

You've got to be shitting me?

No, I really would like the sports page if you are finished with it. I'll even trade you the front section.

 I said, quite taken back. 

This is unbelievable!

The guy slams his fist down on the bar. I quickly reach for my beer fearful of the tremors knocking it over. His head down staring at the paper the entire time. 

Well I have been sitting here reading this for like 15 minutes you had to have seen me asking for the sports page coming. 

Ha! I'm not giving you anything! Don't come calling to me!

I really don't think I'm asking for much man! It's not like I'm asking for a fucking kidney I just want the sports page!

I had been much louder than I had before and this time and I did not go unnoticed. The bartender started bursting into laughter as he had witnessed it all play out in front of him. The guy with the sports page turned and looked at me extremely pissed. 

Can you hold on a sec?

The dude hits a button on his phone sitting in front of him. 

My cousin just found out his girlfriend is pregnant and I would like to talk to him please. 

Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhh. Yeaaaaaaa sorry about that. Congratulations. 

I turn to bar keep with tears in his eyes. 

Check please. 

3.) "The Cutie at the Quick-Stop"

End of last summer I was at the Quick-Stop by my apartment purchasing some jalapeno pork rinds. There was a very cute blonde girl standing beside me in line at the check out counter. She might have been saying something before the first thing I heard but I was to transfixed on her figure. 

Oh I want to be bad but I shouldn't! I really want to. 

It was reflex that made me say what I said next before even allowing the full situation to process in my cerebral cortex. 

Baby you should there is nothing wrong with you being bad. 

She leans forward and picks up a Snickers and looks at me like she just had the contents of a port-a-pot sprayed in her face she was so revolted. I then noticed the bluetooth in her ear. 

I put the pork rinds down and walked out the door. 

2.) "The car accident"

Back in December I was driving home from work on Melrose. I had just been sent a bluetooth from my parents because it was one of the many retarded California state law and I refused to buy one. 

It had been a really long day and traffic was awful as usual. To distract me from the traffic I decided to call all my friends and talk to them on my new gadget like a complete douche bag does when he gets a new bluetooth headset I suppose. The law was passed to make driving safer but it didn't exactly work like that for me. I thought "cool now I can text message WHILE I'm talking to someone on the phone this thing is dope after all."

So while I was talking to one of my buddies back home I was also texting another buddy the exact thing I was telling the person in my ear when the ear piece fell out of my ear onto the floor. 

I got on my brakes and bent over to pick it up off the floor when I looked up I was headed right into the car in front of me. It was a crushing blow. It felt like a sledge hammer hit or maybe  because I was also at the time trying to find the song "Sledgehammer" by Peter Gabriel on my iPod too. 

I screamed my favorite four letter word and got out to see that surprisingly there wasn't much damage to my car and very little to the other guys car. I asked if he was hurt and he said he was fine. We looked at each others cars and I was relieved that it wasn't that bad. 

Let's pull up over there and exchange info. 

I said holding in the embarrassment I felt inside. 

Yea of course. Oh and is that your bluetooth?

This eagle eye that I just nailed on spots my bluetooth on the street right next to the driver's side door. It was in my lap when I looked down and fell out after I hit the guy. 

Nope. Not mine. 

Really? You sure.

Yes I am sure!

I clear my throat. 

 

Can we do this info exchange thing? We are holding up traffic. 

I left it in the middle of the street and got back into my car. 

1.) "The Beginning"

The first week of my job last summer everyone was talking about the bluetooth law that had just been passed. I was just sitting there not really participating in the conversation that a couple girls were having when I suddenly turned around in my chair and said...

What does Gingivitis, the leading cause of tooth decay have to do with driving?

Silence. 

This was the first of what would become a series of extremely awkward moments I would create in the office. But I'll save those for a later date. 

With Love & Respect, 

Mike

 

Working in and out and all about.

Later disgraced monkey olympian Charles "Buzz Saw" Kinsington returned his gold medal after allegations of steroid use. 

I have always been what you could call a "big dude". I'm not entirely sure why I needed to put that in quotation marks but if I was talking to you I most likely would of put it in quotations marks, winked then chuckled to myself for a little while. 

What I mean is I'm 6'5 and have always played sports my whole life. I even had a brief but dignified NCAA basketball career. Growing up where I did in Indiana and being as tall as I am, it was inevitable that I would play basketball. If I would of choose ballet or scuba diving then it would of caused a tear in the time-space continuem.

Through all these years of sports there is one thing I have dested, that's lifting weights. I have done it though for years until the end of my basketball career where it was abruptly stopped. I never looked back. I walked away from those rubber floors and snot stained mirrors. 

I now live in Southern California though and they are all on this crazy health kick. Every things got to be organic. Animals have to be treated nice and shit. Don't look the Scientologists directly in their eyes and worst of all you have to work out on the regular!

I wouldn't say I'm scrawny but I'm definitely not the primest cut of man meat on the market. I'm pretty sure if I was on a plane that crashed in the Andes Mountains that I wouldn't have to worry about being eaten by the other survivors because I would make for better shelter than food.  

In my desperate attempt to attract the ladies with something other than wittiness or ridiculous curly hair, I returned to the gym to hit the weights. Not my usual 70 year old lady in physical therapy work out involving 20 minutes on the elliptical, some crunches, a whole bunch of stretching and a smoothie. 

My old lady work out was going just fine for me until I got it in my head that I needed to beef up my cake. From past experiences I knew that free weights were completely out of the question. I had enough trouble just getting on and off the elliptical sometimes. When your body reacts to physicality with the reaction you get when you buzz the side of an Operation game, you just try not to look awkward in public.  So all my weights would be tied to something I couldn't drop. 

I didn't really do any specific routine. I knew no matter what I was going to hurt the next day so I just tried to avoid anything overly strenuous. There was a guy who asked me if I was doing back or arms. I said neither and took it as a sign to go do some crunches and leave. It got me thinking though about how people love to throw it in your face that they work out. 

These people are always just getting back from the gym or getting ready to go to the gym. I guess working out is such a pain in the ass people feel broadcasting it to everyone and their cousin justifies it because it sure as hell doesn't make their ass any smaller. 

There are certain aspects of exercising at the gym that are negative and will always be negative. It will take great advances in technology to correct two problems that can be found in every men's locker room in gyms across the nation: nasty-ass/feet smell and old dudes walking around naked. 

Every locker room everywhere (I am speaking of club gyms of course. I hope to God there aren't any old naked dudes walking around high school locker rooms. All though we all know there are....we know there are.) has that nasty ass/foot smell and naked old dudes just strolling about. 

It sucks. This whole process sucks. I'm supposed to take an hour or more depending on traffic to get up when I could be sitting or laying down. Put work out clothes on when I could just be in my underwear. Walk to my car, drive to the gym, walk all the way up to the gym, swipe my card, go into a locker room that smells like nasty ass/feet, dodge naked old dude walking around, put my stuff in a locker, find a machine in between someone reading US Weekly while dictating notes to her assistant and some guy who has watched to many episodes of The Contender because he is wearing three sweat shirts and four towels wrapped around his head, listen to Pat Benatar's Greatest Hits, stretch, get a smoothie and go home. 

That work out works for me. This lifting weights stuff is for dudes that don't have anything better to talk about that their workout schedule. 

Editor's Note: The editors would like to remind our readers that The Holla is for entertainment purposes only. In no way shape or form does Mike intend to piss off any actual "big dudes". 

So with summer right at my door step and a slight pudge above my waist band, I'll boldly peel off my shirt in the midst of stud muffins. I will not do any bench presses this summer but I will sit on a bench and think about pressing things. I'll start playing more basketball but you can bet your sweet ass if I'm running for any other purpose then something is chasing me. 

I doubt the "I'm young and invincible, so screw you" diet plan will benefit me in the long run but the best part is that doesn't matter because I'm young and invincible, so screw you. 

 

The Sweet Embrace of Unemployment

How will I tell my wife I lost my 401k?

According to an April 17th news release from the employment development department of California, the state reached 11.2 percentage of the populace unemployed. 62,100 nonfarm jobs had also been eliminated and the nation's unemployment rate rose to 8.2 percent. There are a mind-numbing 2,080,000 people unemployed in the state of California. Now before I go dropping more stats like it's hot I know you have a question. 

How is any of this funny in anyway?

Well, it isn't really. There are clearly a lot of people without jobs or without the financial ability to support themselves until the economy improves or the job market increases. There are signs of this everywhere. 

At the coffee and donut shop around the corner from my apartment there was a table and a few chairs where some old dudes would sit watching traffic all day. They recently replaced the table and chairs with a set of bleachers. 

I saw where a cocker spaniel living in the back yard of a house in Brentwood posted a listing on craigslist.com looking for a roommate and wasn't even asking to see their papers. 

The bum's signs are changing from; War Vet: need money for food to Day Trader: will settle for warm regards. 

Today is my first day on the skids. No work today. I'm a journalist though and like our opinions our hours are irregular. Where one door closes another one opens. So today I go out into the world to investigate into how those other 2 million people are doing. See what they are up to. I've been trapped in an office or the 405 for the last 10 months. Now I need to rediscover the joy of a bike ride and a slurpee at at 2 in the afternoon. Or maybe I will fly a kite and splash around in a shallow creak. 

Is that what everyone has been doing? Oh I've been missing out on so much! Wait, man how could I forget? There is this whole global pandemic thingy going on. Great. Nobody has a job so now we don't have any money and even if we did have any money we are too scared to go outside because of the pig flu. 

So let's all just stay inside, watch Glen Beck and work on our seven signs of the apocalypse 1/8th to scale models complete with exploding baking soda & vinegar volcanoes. 

I'm not sure what everybody that is unemployed is doing right now to be honest. I think I'll go to Malibu Beach. You think it would be safe in Malibu but you would be surprised how many pigs that are there. OH!!! Take that for your probable immunity to the swine flu Malibu, California. 

A new day lies ahead full of increased credit card debt, alcoholic drinks before noon and my 5th and final attempt to learn how to play Sudoku. The future is in my hands as soon as I put some pants on to go outside and brave this new world. 

Opportunity is around every corner in a city like Los Angeles. There are people looking for opportunity and those looking to give it, there also probably a couple more people looking for opportunity at that corner. I guess it's more like a four way stop. The person looking to give opportunity of course waves on that first person to go but that person just keeps sitting there then finally waves back. The other person at the stop is like "What the fuck? Won't somebody just go?" Then the person giving the opportunity finally just goes and causes a wreck between two people looking for opportunity that just wouldn't make up their minds. 

Yup opportunity is out there for me, just gotta go take it. After I take a nap. Talking about all this opportunity has exhausted me.