MY BLOG CELEBRATES ONE YEAR!!

Are you as excited as me?! You should be here...I just had balloons drop from the ceiling on me. As with so many things, I can't believe it's been a year already! I'm very happy and proud of this blog, dammit. It's given me SOME kind of outlet -- for my opinions, RAGE, humor, and, simply, WRITING. More than that, I guess, is the delight that others read it...unlike the "outlet" of a personal diary. It's wonderful to go ballistic with rage over issues that I could NOT even politely bring up at a holiday family party and KNOW that my point of view is being heard. The blog helps a bit to merge all the Garys. So, I thank you, dear regular readers, and sometime readers, for your interest in my thoughts...MY JOURNEY. I'm still waiting for the book deal, but I'll keep trucking along. A YEAR!!

Molly Ivins, fiery Texas political columnist, dead far-too-early at 62

Yet another death that made me gasp. I wish I could remember where I first saw Ms. Ivins; even though her writing was her meal ticket, she would frequently appear on talk or news shows, and i'm sure it was in this venue that I came to know her. It could have been Leno. Point is, somewhere between my sophomore and junior year of college, she very much caught my interest. I got her book, NOTHIN' BUT GOOD TIMES AHEAD, the Christmas of my junior year. It's a collection of her many columns, and I VIVIDLY recall reading it in the back seat during the torturous ride back to college (dad driving), loving every viciously sarcastic word.

Ivins was one of those famous people I always dreamed of not only meeting, but getting to know. That will never happen now. Heavy sigh. Many reading this probably don't even know who she is. Do yourself a favor and google her name, browse through her columns, buy one of her books. She was a flaming liberal, you should know. But she attacked both sides of the political aisle. I don't see her as "liberal" so much as I see her as RIGHT. She hated stupidity and hypocrites and politicians trying to snow you. And she was a BROAD. A real Texas broad. Scary smart, funny as hell, tough, ballsy, unafraid to speak her mind. She was one-of-a-kind.

Her death has spurred me to take her book out of its place on my shelf for the first time in years. And in doing so, it's reminded me of being 20-years-old, and having voted in my first presidential election, and deciding political science would be my minor. It all seemed so interesting. A mingling of media and politics...that's what Molly Ivins did. And it's what has always interested me, as well...even though I think they're increasingly all a bunch of idiots. But Molly pretty much thought the same. What i'm saying, I guess, is that her death has yet again made me wonder What I Really Want. I really will miss her. It's an incredible loss.

The death penalty -- um, yes, it IS vengeance...which IS justice

A waste of human life got the death penalty tonight for killing 2 NYC cops, and some dumb civil liberties bitch (who is ALWAYS on my last nerve with her utterly naive tolerance preaching) said, "this is vengeance, not justice!" To which I said to the TV, "um, yes, it IS vengeance...what IS your point, woman?" Yet another example of mass quantities of humans not being able to grasp complicated issues and shades of gray. This monster KILLED 2 human beings. No question about it. No ambiguity. He SHOULD be killed. Christ, it was the perfect example of WHY EVEN HAVE A TRIAL?!?!!? We don't need him to "think about" what he's done for his whole life. We need him erased from existence. I mean, AT his sentencing, he stuck his tongue out at the victims' families!?! He is EVIL. KILL HIM! Nothing will ever bring back the victims, thus the only "justice" IS vengeance. Why can't scores of otherwise bright people wrap their heads around this concept?!?!?!?!?! In their "civilized" society, we need to waste YEARS of time and MILLIONS of dollars with a trial whose rightful outcome anyone with half a brain could've told you for FREE from Day One. Of course, when they GET the death penalty, they then sit on death row, wasting MORE taxpayer money. They SHOULD be shot within minutes of sentences...or, um, I guess injected or gassed, shooting being so uncivilized. It's all such a disgrace.

Down with Maria Bartiromo!

This bitch has been slowly getting on my nerves over time. No big reason beyond the fact that she's in FINANCE and such an across-the-board success who can seemingly do no wrong. Ah, but now she has! Little Miss Untouchable has a COUPLE of brewing, intertwined scandals. YAY! Nothing I love more than seeing arrogant, know-it-all, mingling-with-A-List, FINANCE tools (and toolettes) getting their just desserts. So maybe nothing "illegal" went down with the Money Honey and her Citi (get hip to the new name) airplane rides...merely "inappropriate"...maybe. Or maybe there IS more to it. Maybe this is the start of something Martha-esque. OH, I hope so!! At the very least, it appears to anyone with a brain that she WAS in SOME kind of extramarital dalliance...which, hey, every marriage is ultimately the sole business of the 2 people in it, but I DO get so much joy over failed marriages. Aren't I awful? No, i'm not...I merely take every chance I can get to smash the naive illusion of "till death do us part." But I'm veering off here. Summing up -- Bartiromo agitatates, FINANCE people agitate (my apologies to the dozens i know in the finance field), and i'm VERY happy that Money Honey's effortless ride to the top has FINALLY hit a rough patch. "Waahhhhhhhhhhh...Gary's so bitter!!! Wahhhhhhhhhhh!" Truly...not really.

"Take your hat off, you're inside."

Windbag Trump said this tonight to his underlings, and it got my blood boiling, because it is a rule that I have ALWAYS LOATHED. And it's kinda odd, because I actually pride myself pretty much on being polite and proper and exhibiting "he's such a nice boy!" social skills. But this hat bullshit is just that. It's ridiculous, archaic, completely asinine. There's a REASON I wear hats a lot...my hair looks like a rat's nest, and I simply look good in a hat. I FEEL good in a hat. This isn't an issue unique to me...think Tim McGraw. MANY men look better -- sometimes or always, bald or with Fabio locks -- in a hat. It frames the face better or SOMEthing...I just often feel more attractive in a hat. But THEN...you go somewhere and some righteous bore (which has in the past included many relatives, good friends' parents, and my own mother -- sorry, mom) tells me to take my hat off. WHO am I insulting by keeping my hat on? GOD?? MY COUNTRY?? Now, again, I remain conflicted in a way...and there certainly ARE places where I'll judge you as harshly as Pat Robertson if you have a hat on...like, say, CHURCH...even though I'm not religious. And you obviously don't head off to most jobs wearing a hat. I'm mainly talking about someone's house, I guess. Or a museum, hospital, RESTAURANT...ooooo, that's a good one. Now there's McDonald's and there's The 21 Club...and different rules apply. Oh! The White House or Capitol...what to do THEN? Again, even i'm conflicted. Let's stick to people's houses, though. I just SO resent the "YOU weren't raised right!" SHAME inflicted on you if you dare keep your hat on. DO NOT tell me how to act or imply that you're somehow more cultured and mannered than I am. FUCK YOU!! It's deplorable you need to embarrass someone so you can feel morally superior...and over a HAT!?!? Again...FUCK YOU!! SO typical Trump said this, of all people...speaks volumes. WITH my hat on, i'm better than a lot of you, so spare me your indignation and focus on your OWN far more grievous faults.

Lazy Saturday

There's few things better in life than a cold, gray winter Saturday. I feel like i've written this before. I'm sure i've written a few things more than once. Like how BOYZ N THE HOOD is one of my fave movies ever. It was on tonight...I can never NOT watch some of it. It's just so unflinchingly grim -- I love how realistic it is. I also love how it reminds me of 1991, one of my fave years EVER. And, yes, I love how it reminds me of California...which reminds me of THE OC...and how there's only 4 episodes left!?! Few shows have flamed out so quickly. It only debuted in the late summer of '03. Yet it SO defines a moment in time. I'll mourn it more in depth at a later date. California...

"We've got TEAM COVERAGE..."

Of the fact that it's cold in January. In NJ. With lows around 10 degrees and highs around twenty. You DON'T say?! The CBS affiliate spent the first 8 minutes of the broadcast on this startling news today. EIGHT minutes! I'll say it yet again...local news SUCKS. Even in NYC. And it's only getting worse.

The WTC Memorial listing of names

I thought the controversy over how the names would be listed had been settled. I was wrong. More to the point, I must have been drinking the day I THOUGHT I heard that Mayor Bloomberg had relented and decided the names of the deceased would be listed alphabetically after all. But, no. As the foundation is laid, plans are still for them to be listed RANDOMLY. All together now...FUCKING WHAT?!?!?! Again...MOTHERFUCKING WHAT?!?!?! The thing that gets me on a daily basis in this life is how the MOST infuriating things ARE so rage-inducing precisely because they're so OBVIOUSLY avoidable to anyone with half a brain. Like this names listing bullshit. WHY in the FUCKING NAME OF GOD would they be listed RANDOMLY?! Do I need to even argue this? DO I?!?! And I generally agree with Bloomberg on most things. But on this, he's TOTALLY WRONG. Period. End of story. And I will be searching for any and all petitions to sign. And urge anyone reading this to do the same. Maybe The Voice of the People can change things at the last minute.

In a TURNING POINT groove...

Thus, wanna keep at it. And can't really focus on a big blog entry. Today's "groove" involves...God, I shouldn't even say...it's insanity...yet actually immensely productive...SCRAP PAPER. I had roughly 20 pieces of scrap paper with TONS of shit jotted down on them...collected over, um, well...there were 2 bunches...a bunch from around July to the present day, and then another (yes, I KNOW this will amaze you) few dating back to THE SUMMER OF '04!!?! I've been FINALLY getting rid of all them, making heads or tails of endless things, inputting phone numbers, and so forth. A COLOSSAL project that was absolutely all-encompassing in its organization. Ridiculous that it piled up so much, but beyond rewarding in finally getting done. Seriously, words can't express. And so what seems insane and tedious and not worth writing a long paragraph about...was actually seismic in its importance. I'd even say a TURNING POINT. And there, now you have a blog entry!

The state of the union

It's strong, we're told...again. Is it? I am more sure than ever that nothing is certain, that politicians are ridiculous, and that my fellow Americans are largely narrow-minded, stupid, puritanical, and/or repressed hypocrites. But let there be NO mistake -- I am VERY proud and grateful to be an American...and my viewpoint is unquestionably a patriotic one.

Waaahhhhh, FUCK off! It's the MOST depressing day of the year!

Today was designated the most bleak of the year by some British psychologist. Everyone has mounting post-holiday debt, resolutions are starting to be broken, and the weather sucks...these are the main reasons that figured into this guy's equation. I remember hearing about this last year, too. I find it very amusing...as I had a very NON-depressing day. I can see the validity of all his points, but 1) have been dealing with unspeakable debt for YEARS and have come to live with it, 2) am one of those annoying people still concentrating on my resolutions list in August, 3) am LOVING the increasingly brutal winter weather! I actually spent a great deal of time tonight googling far northern Canadian and Alaskan towns I spied on my Rand McNally. I YEARN to visit Yellowknife, Northwest Territories! And I'd LOVE to cross the Arctic Circle. Yes, this is further evidence that i'm just a TAD "off." But I found it fascinating to dwell on pictures of these places I most likely will never visit. God BLESS the internet! So instead of saying FUCK OFF to anyone on this bleakest of days, i'll take the opportunity to suggest that y'all indulge in a gratification session...there's SO many reasons NOT to be depressed...right? If you don't agree, fuck off.

BREAKING NEWS!!

**Dipshit has PLACED his recyclables INTO 2 plastic bags!! Mind you, he hasn't taken them to the outside bin yet, but this is MORE initiative than I have EVER seen before! Amazing!! Hmm, wouldn't it be funny if he somehow saw my blog and that's what spurred him into action? This is pretty much impossible, but odder things have happened in this life. I will NOW will him in my mind to take the bags outside...

Operation Recyclables: Status Report

Yet another of my many, MANY far-ranging resolutions involved Dipshit (my roommate) and his recyclables. You see, in a nutshell, in YEARS of living with me (HOW, Lord, HOW?!?!), he has literally not ONCE taken a single glass or plastic item to its rightful place in the BIG RED BIN that resides under the front porch. NOT ONCE. I'd bet he doesn't even know when recyclables go out to the curb -- each Tuesday night. And he CERTAINLY has never actually taken the initiative to TAKE said Big Red Bin out TO the curb from underneath the porch. But those are other issues. I am here merely to rant about the transport of recyclables from my 3rd floor apartment to the outside bin.

Now we have a system. And when I say WE, I naturally mean "I." I have a system. There's a delightfully large walk-in closet off my bathroom hallway. Open the door and my bigass air conditioner sits on the floor to the right. On top of the AC, I long ago put a sturdy department store bag, in which TONS of plastic grocery bags are shoved. Noting the tidy SYSTEM of it all already? For those with a brain, you've guessed right...the IDEA is to take a PLASTIC bag OUT of the bigger STURDY bag, put your recyclable item INTO the plastic bag, PLACE the plastic bag next to the sturdy bag on top of my bigass AC, and then TAKE said plastic bag out to the bin either when it's full or on Tuesday night for collection. Well, let me tell you...Dipshit does NONE of the above. So not ONLY does he not take his cans, bottles, large GALLON containers of water or milk to the bin...well, he doesn't even have the brainpower to follow the CLEAR, DISTINCT pattern of behavior I've so easily set up for him. Does anyone have a blind, 5-year-old, retarded child as a relative? If so, please contact me...because I'm sure THEY could somehow figure out what's supposed to be done in The Recyclable Closet. Yet a grown, vision-able, non-retarded man can't?

Two weeks ago tonight, something snapped, and I decided NO MORE! I was putting one of my own items into the closet when I saw...as usual...Dipshit's items just SITTING there on top of my AC...right next to the sturdy bag FULL of plastic bags. I could make a joke about the Recyclable Fairy ridding our closet of cans, bottles, and plastics in the dead of night, but the bottom line is that he just assumes I'LL put shit into the bags, and I'LL take them all outside to be picked up. And it is BEYOND INFURIATING!!!!!

This is clearly a petty issue, and it's appalling to me that i've just wasted time writing about it (though it's certainly cathartic). It's NOT that much trouble to swipe things into a bag and take it, along with my stuff, to the bin. But that's not the point. It's about principle and, yes, to some degree, it IS about my time. They are seconds of my life that add up...tending to HIS shit. It's about being a FUCKING ADULT and knowing, at the very least, that you should be bringing your recyclables outside. There have even been times when I place the plastic bag full of shit IN the front hallway to be taken to the curb...and he has always walked RIGHT past it. Unfuckingbelievable. THIS is what I live with. THIS is but ONE source of my SUPREME RAGE!

Thirteen items now. Two weeks, 13 items. The top of my AC is now totally covered in recyclables. So tonight, he began utilizing the floor...2 items are now there. TWO weeks and he hasn't caught on yet that, gee, something's off here...these bottles and cans are REALLY adding up like NEVER before! What the fuck?! And I am not budging. And despite everything i've just written, it actually doesn't even bother me that much. It's the Junk Closet. It's not like there's shit all over the living room. So we'll see how long this goes. Will cans pile up to the ceiling? Will this somehow invite bugs? If THAT happens, Gary WILL go ballistic, and Dipshit may not make it out alive. He is an immature asshole who expects to be mothered and has NO concept...truly...of what it takes to properly live on one's own. But i've "released myself" from caring about his cans and bottles. For now.

All the leaves are brown...

R.I.P. Denny Doherty.

Diary #39

I begin Diary #39 tonight. I have 38 marble notebooks full of my "thoughts, commentary & analysis." No, I can't believe it, either. What began as a summer project for sophomore english class turned into years of my life documented. This last notebook took more than 2 years to complete...the longest period EVER contained in one notebook. The bloom finally began to REALLY come off the rose. Writing IS a giant pain in the ass most of the time. However, since New Year's, I've been writing daily again.

Starting Diary #39, it's the same way I feel about a new year's calendar...wondering WHAT these new blank pages will contain! OH, the shockers scattered about in these volumes! Secrets! Lies! Truths! And let's not forget that there's still SOOOOOOO much I DON'T write. Among other reasons, diary-keeping is my perverse little way of remaining relevant FAR after i've dropped dead. ALWAYS thinking...

I wanna get a beer in Chinook, MT

Who wants to join me?

If you're following at home...

My Xmas window lights are STILL lit...and I JUST noticed that someone down the street still has theirs lit, too...and they've got the more gaudy colored lights. Oh, it is ON!!

And in tonight's edition of "Things That Consume Gary's Thoughts" -- are you ready?...THE SHELF LIFE OF TABLE SALT

So the salt shaker on the kitchen table was just about empty. I went to fill it up, thus again noticing "10/10/03" on the 26 oz. container. (Yes, I put the purchase date on most foods that won't immediately be eaten...although now that I think about it, I also date my box of envelopes just for the "fun" of seeing how long it takes to go through a box...2 years, if you're wondering.) THREE years and 3 months, i've now had this salt! This got me thinking/paranoid...is the salt still good? Are there worms in it? I spied no small creatures in the salt as it poured out into the shaker. But I decided I HAD to know a "standard" for how long it lasts in your kitchen. Google again came in handy. Imagine my amusement when I read "25+ years" for both table salt and baking soda!?! YAY! Crucial information! I LOVE information!!

**While i'm at it, the other day I heard someone say that American bills are 6 inches long, thus can be used as accurate measuring tools in a pinch. Well, I had to verify that, too. And whoever said it...is WRONG! I measured every bill in my wallet (no jokes, please) and EVERY one was...6 INCHES AND 1/8"!! Maybe i'm nitpicking, but I don't care...that 1/8" can add up (again, no jokes). Gary demands accuracy!!

Ryan Seacrest...unspeakably untalented tool

Have I mentioned yet how I am just ongoingly FLOORED, AMAZED, STUNNED that Ryan Seacrest has achieved such fame and fortune? He is DEVOID of ANY discernible talent. Well, he can produce words and stand upright...

SNOW!!!!!

Just about 2:30pm, I saw my FIRST flakes of the season...YAY!! I missed the only other time it snowed...for like 5 minutes in the too-early morning. Now if it would only fall hard enough to STICK...

Focus groups -- easiest money EVER!

I really can't endorse them enough. No more than 2 hours of your time, free food and beverages, and between $50 and $100 in cash handed to you at the end. And tonight, for the first time ever, BEER was a beverage choice! Sapporo! I didn't get one, mind you...there were only two, and I wasn't really in the mood for a beer. But I applaud the idea of it. The topic was the "packaging" of Mike's Hard Lemonade...interesting. So I'm anxious to see if my ideas are put into any kind of action. Mind you, it's all kind of ridiculous...but who cares. It's CASH!!

Nothing like a 40-minute winter's walk

When it's 27 degrees out. With 30mph gusts. From the north...which is the direction you're walking. Into the wind. At night. Without a hat. Or scarf. Nose running. Yes, pleasant. Winter's here!! And when I got home, what did I eat? Ice cream. Sure, cinnamon hot cocoa, too. But even after my Arctic ordeal...HAD to still inhale ice cream. I'm officially a crazy eccentric...for so MANY reasons.

Two weeks in, 50 to go!

Here we are, smack in the middle of January, 2 weeks into 2007. Let's breathe deeply and take a mental review of How Things Are Going. I'VE been very zen...too zen...good in a non-panic-attack way, bad in a "but I have 82 things to do!" sense. But it's only 15 days. Each day is full of opportunity, yes...but there's no sense in ALWAYS being on the verge of a stroke, either. THAT'D be no good. Balance...balance...balance...my ongoing battle between Hyper Task Master and Stoned Surfer...it's a curious personality make-up...

The Hungarian delivers!!

BeHOLD the historic arrival!! A new era begins...

The Duke rape case

One of my 147 New Year's goals is to be more topical on here. So let's briefly discuss the Duke rape case. In short, this bitch should have her twat burned with a hot iron. Then, once SHE'S screaming in agony, let's move along and shove the sizzling iron up the prosecutor's ass. Does that make my opinion clear?

Actually, I think the dipshit prosecutor deserves even more ire than the accuser. She's merely a dumb whore. He is a "respected man of the community." Or that's the spin. The fact is that he's done everything possible to ruin the lives of three young men based on zero solid evidence...all to further his career. And it's sick. And he should be disbarred. And, if possible, charges should be filed against HIM.

Let me emphatically state that I am ALL for putting spoiled, rich kids in their place...the perfect looking, star athlete, prom kings who know no trial or tribulation. But in the end, i'm about justice, with a capital J. And people looking at evidence and facts and common sense. And sparing all involved -- including the weary public -- of needless BULLSHIT. This case is ALL bullshit. And i'm tired of hearing about it. But not more tired than the 3 men who've been branded rapists...falsely, from everything I'VE seen and heard.

The missing teens from MO, safely returned!

Is there a BETTER story than this?! Especially the 15-year-old gone more than 4 years...although THAT is just soooooooooooo fascinating, bizarre, mind-boggling on sooooooooo many levels. But it just doesn't get any happier than this story. Can you FATHOM your child is kidnapped...then found, ALIVE, more than 4 years later?!!? Just wonderful beyond words. This story made my weekend.

Damn it, "Anonymous"!!!

If you wanna up my already-high anxiety level by remaining anonymous, fine. But can you at the very least supply a gender, age, and location? Example: "Mr. Faceless, 35, Paramus, NJ." Also, let me know if you're Catholic or a Jew...i'm particularly fascinated by people of either religion.

2 more months...

That is all.

Littering

Yet another thing I have ZERO patience for. For the life of me, I can't fathom being done with my can of soda, napkin, bag of chips, straw, bag of candy, food menu, and on and on and on, and just THROWING IT ON THE GROUND. Who ARE these people? Who RAISED them? I find it so incredibly offensive. I'm like Bette Midler -- she being, for those not in the know, a true leader in cleaning up New York City parks. She seriously deserves an incredible amount of admiration for her efforts and concern. *Casual aside for SIMPSONS lovers: "DAMN you, Midleerrrrrrrrrr!"*

What sparked today's rage was seemingly an entire newspaper blown across the sidewalk a couple houses down from me. I spied this mess from my living room window. Now you KNOW it was there for hours...as a slew of commuters walked right by and over it. I was all set to go out myself and clean it up...until I saw the town street sweeper man picking it up. Now that IS his job...and perhaps he wouldn't HAVE a job if people behaved properly...but I felt awful that he had to waste his time cleaning a bunch of wind-strewn papers up, when DOZENS of people before him could have done the same thing. There were THREE houses these papers were in front of...NOT ONE resident cared enough about their property to do something about it? Disgusting.

A few months ago, Letterman went outside his studio to pick up garbage people were passing by...I believe I blogged about it. Yet another area where I feel completely One With Dave. Taking this issue one infuriating step further, i've often spied my landlords...are you ready?...picking up garbage on the sidewalk and THROWING IT INTO THE STREET!?!?!?!?! Every time, i've wanted to hurl myself out of the third floor window onto them, screaming with rage. They EXPECT the menial street cleaner man to just pick it up...when they could easily put it in the garbage themselves. Insulting! People who clean for us in any way should NOT have to contend with ANY unreasonably extra amount of filth. It is MYSTIFYING in its stupidity and lack of respect. People, give a damn about your surroundings! Why should YOU when no one else seems to care? Why NOT you?! Step up to the plate and assume some responsibility! We're each capable of so much if we just exert some effort. Show some pride in your property, neighborhood, country, WORLD! Find a garbage can AND PUT YOUR SHIT IN IT!!!!!

Adios, Christmas '06!!

Took down the Christmas decorations today...January 10th, a nice even day...and one month and one day after I put them up. And I swear I didn't plan it this way, but today was the COLDEST day since...the day I put the decorations up!?! Eerie, huh? Remained in the 30s all day for the first time since December 9th. So that's all just very fitting in my book. Actually, I've kept the lights in the front windows. We shall see when I deem it too ridiculously late to keep lighting them; my competitiveness extends even to "who's the neighbor with the Xmas lights lit the longest?" More practically, I just like the lighting it gives the living room. I should just light them through the spring...incite talk of "the crazy guy with his Xmas lights still on." They're the little white lights...which I actually HAVE had permanently set up in my living room, kitchen, and bedroom for YEARS. White trashy? Like a college dorm room? I'll accept whatever you call me. Fact is, they look nice, supply JUST the right amount of ambient lighting, and create a soothing, zen environment. And they're accepted in bars and on trees to give an elegant feel year-round, so why not Gary's apartment? Do y'all like when I speak in the third person? Christmas 2006...packed away into history. GARY now concludes that THE SEASON IS OVER!!

Rosie vs. Donald -- you KNEW i'd opine...

I'm on Rosie's side, 100%. And here's why (and if you don't agree with me, um, well, it's getting SO cliched to say you're a fucking idiot, but...). Before I defend her, though, let me say that i'm NOT some super loyal, sycophantic fan of hers. She can be grating, overbearing, eye-rolling in her self-absorption. She can be just "too much." I know this. But she's also pretty fucking funny a lot of the time...partly because she's also pretty fucking honest and, to a decent degree, down to earth. So recall when the Miss USA fucking pointless all-around bullshit was going down, and I was just beyond livid with rage over it being the top news story? Well, it all DOES begin there, doesn't it? EVERYTHING about that was such an overbloated non-issue...namely, Trump and Cunt Whore USA. And, so, right off the bat, I cheered Rosie bashing him. Donald Trump's a self-promoting gasbag who just talks, talks, talks until his lies and half-truths coalesce into public truth. He'll do ANYthing for promotion. It's ALL about promotion. Period. Rosie called him on it. He got mad. Downhill from there. Now it's called THE VIEW...and Rosie gave hers. Trump DID file for bankruptcy...um, his company did...same fucking thing. Trump IS like a pimp with his little Miss USA whores (and, gee, her mulling Playboy REALLY should shatter that illusion). He ISN'T a moral compass. It's unrealistic to think Trump...or anyone...would sit back and not return fire. But his arguments are SOOOOOO 7th grade and devoid of ANY actual truths. Well, except that Rosie's fat and a lesbian. And that's ALL he has. He's truly like a school bully in the playground, just relentlessly taunting someone and NOT shutting up. Hey, I think he's a riot...I laugh out loud every time I see him...but it's AT him, not WITH him...and i'm not sure he gets this. He's just more and more revealing himself to be EXACTLY what Rosie called him out to be...a jackass. Meanwhile, Baba Fucking Wawa knew what she was getting into hiring Rosie. God, there's just too many points for me to make here. Rosie's honesty extends to other celebs...she's not there to kiss every famous person's ass, like Miss Walters seems increasingly and ridiculously about. Walters travels in rarified social circles...and a rather varied circle at that. She is FAR too concerned with remaining on good terms with every single famous person on earth. Well, this ain't 20/20, Baba....it's a morning gabfest...and your lofty news credentials just don't matter here. In fact, they're in the way. If Walters wanted to remain untarnished by girly talk gossip and celeb-feuding, she should have stayed behind a news desk. She was asking for trouble, and she's gotten it. She's now in the middle of a he-said, she-said feud that gets nastier by the day...and i'm fucking LOVING it like no other celeb feud EVER. Think about it...we have a real estate millionaire, a Tell It Like It Is comedienne, and now arguably the most successful female newswoman in history ALL fighting. Love them or hate them, they're each VERY successful and powerful figures. Kind of a level-playing field, if you will. But in the end, it's all about the TRUTH...and Rosie wins, hands down. And if she leaves THE VIEW somehow because of this, don't think it means She's The Loser. Fact is, Barbara co-owns the show...she's the boss. But Rosie has gazillions of dollars of her own, not to mention her own immense fan base. Oh, yes, and she has The Truth.

ONE WEEK INTO '07...how am I doing?

Fine, thanks, though a lot of year-changing/holiday season balls are still up in the air. First couple of weeks are always transitional. How are YOU doing?

Betty White

I LOVE her. How can anyone not? At 82, she's as sought-after, sharp, and agile as ever. I YEARN to know her personally.

Hands-free car phones...like, OMG, it's the TALKING that's the distraction!?!?

Get the FUCK outta town! You're KIDDING me! You mean, even if you don't physically have a phone to your ear and you're speeding down the Turnpike at 80mph, you're STILL putting yourself and others at risk of an accident if you're just concentrating on and talking to The Voice??!!!?!?! Well, this is just EYE-OPENING, America! I absolutely NEVER would have put that together in my OWN little head if someone didn't do a costly study to ascertain what GARY COULD HAVE TOLD YOU YEARS AGO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I sat staring blankly at my TV screen tonight, twitching with rage, as some "expert" on NBC informed, with astonishment, the polished (AND incredulous) newswoman of the study's findings. That gun I don't have...I REALLY needed it again.

GPS systems...yes, allow me to bitch about this bullshit, too

Yet another way to dumb people down. Now i'm great with directions, I admit...but I don't get how EVERYONE isn't. It's like driving and shitting for me...effortless. SO completely not difficult. But let's get right to my main point...READING MAPS. Fuck GPS systems...OPEN a fucking Rand McNally map, you stupid jackass fucks. I'll even allow Mapquest...hell, I use it all the time. It often supplies more detail, down to the street. There is ZERO, ZERO, ZERO reason to have to go somewhere and rely solely on some fucking talking machine in your car to get you there. "BACK OUT OF YOUR DRIVEWAY...TURN RIGHT...GO TO THE CORNER...LOOK BOTH WAYS..." and so on. UTTERLY INFURIATING!!!!! And then I have to endure the post-arrival "well, we got lost...our directions told us to...(fill in the blank with what GPS God told them to do, as they blindly drove without regard to THEIR vision, smarts, or instincts)" People are just so jawdroppingly dumb. They want EVERYthing done for them, physically AND mentally. And yet, they all think they're SO smart and trendy. But, no, trust Gary...they're idiots. Is there anyone left I HAVEN'T insulted? I'm starting to hear crickets as I write these blogs. Yet, I just thought of something ELSE to bitch about...

I'm...gonna...maaaaaaybe...vomit...

What a wasted day. I woke up before dawn feeling like I was gonna throw up. I MAYBE had 2 full hours sleep until then. I pissed, I paced, I stuck my head out the window, I drank water, I burped. I never puked and gradually felt better. What the fuck, though? WHAT was going on?! Otherwise, I felt fine. I really didn't get much solid sleep after that, despite staying in bed until shortly after 1pm. Had breakfast, felt fine. But about 3pm, the queasy feeling began again. It lasted about 90 minutes before I began to feel better. I was sipping hot black tea. The whole thing was agitating. I HATE being sidelined by illness. Adding to my misery, not one, but TWO friends called, wanting me to join them for some Sunday boozing. So this NEVER happens. EVER. Getting ONE friend to call would be a miracle, let alone two. Fucking UGH. And so the first Sunday of 2007 was one giant BLAH. I hit ShopRite...that's the extent of my productivity. Well, if you wanna push me, I explored some other friends' MySpace pages and changed my pillowcase. Yeah, that's about it. Oh, and watched both the Giants and Jets lose their last games of the season. Damn stomach. Actually, i've felt better all night, though...full appetite back and all. But i've been so TIRED. Yet here I sit, pushing 1am, still up, trying to salvage the end of the day. Bed beckons early, though, tonight. You know, 2am or so.

Strolling in shorts and a t-shirt on a 70 DEGREE JANUARY DAY!!

Words can't express the joy I and so many others have experienced today in the NYC area. I'm dressed like it's mid July. It reached like 71 or 72 this afternoon. Overnight LOWS were only in the low 60s. Truly one of the warmest January days on RECORD in the area. Some perspective...the highest temperature ever recorded in January in Central Park is 72 back in 1950. So, seriously, today was like once-in-a-lifetime stuff...VERY exciting! You could see the joy etched on people's faces...everyone just THRILLED, giddy to be outside...jogging, walking, tossing a football, biking, playing soccer, simply laying in the grass. Some were shirtless. SHIRTLESS. In January!! I loved it. LOVED it!! I strolled along the waterfront, water bottle in hand, All-American Rejects on my headphones, clad in shorts and a short-sleeve shirt. Sat down for a bit, closed my eyes and rested my head against a lamppost, the balmy dead-of-winter sun warming my face. Earlier, I sat on the bench on my front porch, feet up on the railing. All the windows in the house are open. Oh, I fully relished this super-rarity of a day. Absolutely wonderful!

Handicapped drivers -- HOW does their disability impact how heavy they can press their foot on the gas pedal?!?

I don't understand this. Not ONCE in my driving life have I been behind a swift-moving car with a handicapped logo on the license plate. And yet, WHY? If they have the limbs (this being arms and feet) to be safely issued a license, what's the fucking problem? HOW does their medical issue affect their foot pressing harder on the gas pedal? I see no answer for this. The only possible thing I can think of is that they're already so scarred by whatever handicap they have, they desperately fear adding to their misery by being in a car crash. Which, of course, is logic that won't help them on the day that I snap and careen my car into theirs

Rabbits in Hoboken!

Routinely, I spy rabbits hopping around the Stevens Tech campus. Are others in Hoboken aware of this? Is ANYONE aware of this? Am I the only one who CARES about this? Whenever I see one, I stop dead in my tracks and go into my Bunny Rabbit Voice, trying to coax one into coming over to me. No luck so far. I just find it completely fascinating and comforting that there's such wildlife within view of Manhattan. It makes me feel like i'm in the country. I guess I HAVE seen rabbits in the Meadowlands, too. But Hoboken? How do they get there? I YEARN for answers!! Now if only one of those rebellious deer would make their way east of the Garden State Parkway...

At the risk of sounding racist...

...it is SO refreshing to see so many WHITE people in the Billboard Top 10 again!! I love my rap and "urban" music, and you NEED to see my karaoke rendition of Prince's KISS (shockingly authentic), but i'm a white boy who grew up loving Springsteen, Mellencamp, Def Leppard. In recent years, you were often lucky to find ONE white act in the top 10, let alone the top 5. But now you have All-American Rejects, Hinder, The Fray all sitting pretty in the upper tier. As WHITE as WHITE can be. You also have Fergie, whom I detest, but she IS white, so I have to count her. Then you have Justin Timberlake, who COULD be considered black lately. But Justin's white, honest...in a George Michael way, which isn't bad; it's actually one of my favorite kinds of white. Recently, Gwen Stefani has again placed an entry within the top 10 songs of the week. She, too, has a lot of black in her. So there's two kinds of white here...Pure White and Mocha White. I'm an equal fan of both. Hell, one of my favorite artists of all time, Madonna, is Mocha White. When she first started out, before she began making videos, she was often thought to be black when people heard HOLIDAY or EVERYBODY on the radio. She was very savvy about appealing to the black community, knowing it was crucial to making her an across-the-board superstar. Bottom line is that it's just good to see a true mixture of colors and styles again on the charts. For far too long, I felt like Whitey in Compton.

Am I the only person who absolutely DETESTS talking on a phone?

AM I?!?!? I hate it. HATE it. Yes, this rant stems from enduring yet another night of my roomie's utterly pointless "get to know you" sessions with some internet whore. Talking to someone you've never met ON THE PHONE...for like an hour. Yeah, THAT'S a good use of time. But let's not totally blame online, um, courtship. He talks CONSTANTLY on the phone...friends, co-workers, the SuperCuts lady. And WHY?! I REALLY wish he'd somehow be rendered mute. I am NEVER on the phone. EVER. Zero interest. And more to the point...and read this slowly and carefully...THERE. IS. NO. REASON. 90%. OF. THE. TIME. It is pointless, time-wasting bullshit. Things that can be emailed or IM'd or told in person. Or, gasp, not told at ALL. Things that I don't need to fucking listen to nonstop in my apt, in the supermarket, on the train, on the bus, in Starbucks, TRYING TO RELAX ON THE BEACH. Noise, noise, NOISE!! SHUT the FUCK up!! And like the dipshit "drinking's a drug, too, dude!" argument, do NOT try telling me that email or IMing or BLOGGING is the same thing. I don't have the patience to explain the difference right now. Anyone reading this either knows i'm right or is a stupid idiot. Golly, shucks, look at me alienating others so soon in '07.

Checked out Saddam dropping through the floor on You Tube

Fun shit. Just wanted to document that, too.

Walking a mile with my Starbucks venti cinnamon latte

That's all. Just wanted to document that.

The Ford Funeral

On this magnificently clear, crisp early January morning, President Ford is being remembered at his funeral at the National Cathedral in DC. ALL these power figures in one setting...pretty remarkable. Many superlatives come to mind to describe the whole event. Many an indelible image. It's a beautiful service. I'd like to request some of the Navy choir for MY funeral. I love Washington, DC -- I need to visit more often. Mrs. Ford continues to carry herself with admirable poise for an 88-year-old woman. It's, oddly, a good way to start a new year...reminded of death, but that a life should be fully led, that I'M still here. I'm also prouder and more grateful than ever that i'm an AMERICAN. Patriotic and conscious of life. Thank you, Gerald Ford.

The calendar ahead

I don't just absent-mindedly stick a new calendar on the wall, like I imagine most do. No, I even turn THIS into a deep, melancholy experience. Let's be clear -- what I do takes under 5 minutes; it's not some hour-long ritual. But I like to really examine the coming year ahead, flipping through each month, REALIZING THAT EACH OF THE NEXT 365 DAYS ARE BLANK SLATES WAITING TO BE COLORED IN, absolutely brimming with potential. When I look at TIME that way, laid out in front of me over an entire year, it's difficult not to realize the incredible gift of each day. Each month. Each YEAR. It makes me sick to think of squandering it. If, throughout the year, we can only hold on to that wave of hope and renewal that comes on New Year's Day, SO much can get done. I desperately try every year. HARDER every year. I actually did pretty damn well last year...though not necessarily in ways people could see. And so i'm ready again...more ready than ever. Anxious to continue molding my place on this earth. Trying so desperately hard NOT to obsess so much about the relentless flipping of the calendar. I'm young, i'm hot, i'm smart as hell...RIGHT?!? The first two are relative, but i'm gonna be positive. I AM smart as hell, though. Period. And the goal...THE Goal...overall...is to color in that fucking 2007 calendar as brightly as possible. Peace and productivity.

My first 2007 dinner menu

Because you're DYING to know what I had to eat tonight. And because I have a perverse need to document such minutae. I began with a Very Veggie Dole bagged salad, with zesty Italian dressing and bacon bits. MMMMMM. A while later, I dropped one of those white rice pouches into a pot on the stove. Boy, do I LOVE my carbs! All this led up to one of those Campbell's Select soups...you know, the "fancy" ones John Lithgow touts in commercials. My flavor was Golden Butternut Squash...sweet mother of God, DELICIOUS! I capped it all off with yet another Good Humor strawberry shortcake bar. And i'm now sipping Tetley honey lemon green tea. I may bake my Sara Lee coconut custard pie yet. Night's young.

Good morning, 2007!!!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR! It's actually 4pm -- no, I didn't just get up -- so I should actually say good afternoon, but "morning" works in a poetic way. No hangover, no vomiting (as I did last year on this date, which is also the last time I spewed), no sobbing uncontrollably in a corner that another year of life is down the drain...all in all, a good New Year's Day!! It is incredibly foggy out. I'm still in my PJ pants. The day...and year...is still dawning for me. I must say, it's been a GREAT lazy day. The rainy, foggy weather has been perfect for that mood. Fuck sunshine...like children, it's overrated. HAHAHA, oh, how I make myself laugh with my BITTER, EVIL, CYNICAL views...wink, wink. I think I need to go out in THE FOG. Yes, I need to get outside. My head spins with plots and resolutions, but more on that later, if you're lucky. Here's one, though...I resolve to write even MORE on here. And more in GENERAL. I now end my FIRST entry of 2007. Clink, clink.