the truth, revealed

1. Comedy Central’s debut foray into made-for-TV-movie-making, Porn n’ Chicken, premiered this past Sunday.

1b. Frankly, it sucked.

2. However, if you’re a regular reader of this site, and you missed that premiere, you’ll probably want to catch the replays this weekend (Friday @ 11:00p, Sat @ 11:30p).

3. That’s because the movie is about me.

3b. And I don’t mean that in some vague, figurative sense. I mean I sold my life rights to Comedy Central for the film.

3c. Along with three fellow Yalies, I founded PnC, and served as a member of the elusive ‘Tri-Colored’ Council.

4.. The truth of PnC is, by and large, much funnier than the fiction.

4b. Therefore, I highly reccomend that diligent readers attempt to gain access to ongoing PnC events.

5. To assist in that quest, I will now disclose some heretofore closely guarded secrets of the brotherhood.

5b. First, the Logo, to assist in locating the week’s secret meeting place:

5c. Second, the password exchange, to secure entrance:

Chicken 1: We are Unconcerned but not Indifferent.

Chicken 2: For five dollars I will give you the Reach Around.

5d. Nota Bene: As in Eyes Wide Shut, there is no second password.

6. Porn n’ Chicken is Yale

October 16, 2002

a moment of wallowing self pity

My original plan for the evening involved attending a party at the acclaimed Osteria del Circo, sponsored by the equally acclaimed Ikon Model Management. Such parties are always a good time, as they not only feature really hot girls, but also allow me to hone my Napoleonic charm in the most difficult of environments. (Me: 5’6″; models: 5’10”; phone numbers: Inexplicably, yes.)

Instead, however, I’ll be lying at home, drunk off Nyquil and sipping chicken soup. I managed to get myself sick over the weekend, and have spent all day at work too hoarse to use the phone and brain too full of snot to send productive emails. (Which may, in retrospect, explain my fascination with the ads cited in the prior post). None the less, I have an exceedingly quick metabolism, so I suspect that by tomorrow things will be looking up. And yes, mom, I took some Echinacea.

| Dating Exploits

April 8, 2002

the tropical recap

While I had intended to pull together a travelogue for my trip to the Bahamas, I returned to work this morning to find more than 1200 emails waiting for me. Therefore, I’m instead falling back on these dozen short observations, which I jotted down on yesterday’s flight back to JFK:

1. Kalik, the Bahamian local beer, tastes like a bitter, watered down version of Bud Light. The can proclaims it’s “export quality” – perhaps I’m just shopping at the wrong liquor stores, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen that exported Kalik here in New York City.

2. The bikini is, without a doubt, one of the 20th century’s great inventions.

3. Diving with groups of first time scuba-divers is absolutely hysterical. Everywhere you turn, one is floating up towards the surface, dragging along the bottom, or swimming off into the blue. Divemasters are apparently exceedingly grateful for any assistance in corralling such divers.

4. Getting cornrows is a big thing for tourists in the Bahamas. Girls everywhere had dropped $100 to have their hair tightly braided by old, fat Bahamian women on the beach. Note to future visitors: White girls in cornrows bespeak a world of missing teeth and trailer parks that is probably best avoided.

5. I went on the Booze Cruise, and I’m willing to admit it.

6. Crystal Palace, the Bahamas’ largest casino, while tanner and less geriatric than much of Vegas, wouldn’t even hold its own a few blocks off the strip. The place is less than a fifth the size of Foxwoods.

7. Watching spring-breakers from a Texas sorority interact with spring-breakers from an Ohio sorority is oddly fascinating. I felt sort of like Jane Goodall watching two tribes of gorillas squaring off over territory and mating rights.

Note to guys looking for vacation destinations: female-to-male ratio on Nassau’s Cable Beach was approximately 2-to-1.

8. Adrienne, if you’re reading this, I really will call you.

9. Conch chowder is mm-mm good.

10. Other than that, the food blew and was vastly overpriced. It was, however, served rather quickly, seemingly at odds with the otherwise blissfully slow pace of Bahamian life.

11. Masculinity be damned. I like pina coladas.

12. Our hotel didn’t have a hot tub, necessitating frequent trips to the next-door Marriott for the crucial tropical vacation cycle: beach – ocean – pool – hot tub – drink – repeat.

Nassau, in short: Without a doubt, worth the trip, but probably not the repeat trip. My heart is with the Pacific, and Hawaii is where I’d rather be.

| Exploits Travel

March 22, 2002

hit me baby one more time

Special note to any readers intending to dislocate their shoulder: Don’t. It hurts like a bitch.

While training Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (or, as my mother refers to it, “beat ’em up”) last night, I managed to pop my shoulder out of the socket. Not high on my list of life experiences worth repeating. Which brings up a question that several readers (and my mother) have asked on multiple occasions: Why in God’s name do you do full-contact martial arts? What are you, nuts? (Short answer: well, obviously.)

The problem, really, is that most people see mixed martial arts or “no holds barred” competition as much more dangerous / exotic / groundbreaking / whatever than it really is. In truth, it’s essentially just a combination of three popular existing Olympic sports: boxing, judo and wrestling. The phrase “no holds barred” is itself a misnomer, as an extensive set of rules does exist, similar to those of the three constituent sports. In fact, in the sport’s ten year history, the percentage of tournament bouts leading to serious injury has been lower than the percentage in boxing or judo matches.

None the less, I don’t want to sugar coat it. The sport is basically two guys trying to beat the crap out of each other until one gives up. So why would I possibly do it? Two main reasons:

Zen calm. As noted by Nobel laureate Konrad Lorenz, any animal that has friendship also has intraspecies aggression, and the instinctual and insuppressible need to discharge that aggression. While many people ‘vent’ through activities like weight lifting, creative writing, or competitive macram

| Exploits Fitness

March 12, 2002

CH3CH2OH

“It has been my experience that people who have no vices have very few virtues.”
–Abraham Lincoln

Yes, thats it. I only drink to become a better person. I’m building virtues, so this hangover is entirely worth it.

| Exploits Quotes

March 10, 2002

yes, yes I am

Flipping channels to get to the West Wing (watched weekly with a few college buddies), I happened to pass by Dawson’s Creek and was hit by a memory from a few years back:

In Cincinnatti with a couple of friends, partway through a Hornitos Tequila pub crawl. A shot of tequila at twelve different bars, a stamp from each, and we can return to the first for a free t-shirt. At the fifth or sixth stop, we pull up to the bar and sit down. There are five of us, two girls and three guys. The bartender walks up to our group, looks around, leans over and says quietly: You’re the kids from Dawson’s Creek, aren’t you. Quick glances amongst ourselves. Unison: Yes, yes we are.

I’ve still never seen the show, but I’m a big fan. For the price of one autographed napkin, it got us a couple of rounds of drinks and a really cheap Hornitos Tequila t-shirt.

Exploits

| Exploits

February 27, 2002

ugh

Much too early. Flight to San Francisco leaves out of JFK in two hours. Played jazz gig last night at Opal involving significant quantities of vodka. Woke up this morning with lipstick on undershirt – must have been a good evening. Note to self: Swear off drinking and begin looking for replacement livers.

| City Life Exploits

February 20, 2002