Signature Outfit

In general, I feel like I know enough about fashion to get by.  I thoroughly enjoy Project Runway (though I didn't watch All-Stars), but I think it might be because I'm so impressed by what those designers are able to create with their hands... and so quickly.

That being said, I rarely, rarely look nice.  I'm aware of it.  For some reason, I like to wear all of the same color, even if it's different shades.  I know it's breaking all kinds of fashion rules, but it makes me happy.  I like to wear shorts and a jacket.  Heck, I like to wear short sleeves and a tie.  Which is how we got here:

This is one of the best pictures of me ever taken (Thanks, Paki D!).  I never enjoy having my picture taken, cuz I'm funny looking.  The picture was provided to me after it was slightly altered (way before Instagram, or whatever).  This has everything going, though.  My signature thumbs-up-for-a-picture, my hair, though jew-fro-ey, looks under control.  I've got a drink in my  hand, and you're looking at my 'good side'.  I'm wearing a black polo, and a silver/white tie.  It was something that I just decided to try the night of this party.  (Also, on this night, I played Wii for the first time.  It forced me to purchase one within the following month.)

I loved this so much, that I seriously thought to myself, 'I should make this my signature outfit'.  Polo and tie. Polos are more comfortable then stuffy, pressed shirts.  They have a collar for the tie.  I can be comfortable, look classy, and it'd be an outfit that was distinctively ~RoB.

Annie said no.  I never fully admitted how much I loved this outfit, but every time I try to do it again, Annie says no.  She thinks she's got better fashion sense than me.  I'd love to try the ensemble again, with shorts and different combos of polos/ties, but I guess I'll have to wait for her to travel out of town.  Or, maybe she'll realize how amazing it is after reading this.

Polos & Ties.  You heard it here first,

~RoB

Your Hubcap

So, I'm driving in downtown Lexington.  Suddenly, in front of me and a lane to my right, the hubcap comes off of a car's rear driver-side wheel, and continues to roll parallel to the car for 10 feet or so.  Then it makes a pretty sharp left turn, speeds across traffic, and hits another car right in its driver-side door.  The hubcap looked pretty plastic, so I don't even know if the car that was struck knew what happened.  They might have thought they hit a pothole.

Anyway, I honked my horn a few times.  I pulled up next to the now hubcap-less car and reached over to my passenger window to roll it down.  (No, I don't have power windows, which makes moments like this even more awkward.)  I gave the other driver a few different hand gestures to say 'roll your damn window down', but all she gave me in return was the Jenna Marbles' face.

Jenna Marbles' face

Then she hit her gas and sped ahead of me.  First of all, even on my worst day, I don't look that fucking weird.  I have a face that you want to giggle at, not one that should scare you.  I wasn't shirtless.  I wasn't wagging my penis at her.  I was legitimately trying to let her know that she could go pick up her cheap-ass hubcap off the road before it gets run over.  She could probably still reattach it if she hurries.

I pulled up on more time and pointed at her wheel.  She might have thought I was pointing at her gas tank.  Hell, I don't know what she was thinking.  Then she leans back and her boyfriend get's all tough guy 'What? What? You got somethin' to say?'

At this point, I just look like an ass, and I'm trying to HELP these morons.  I really just wanted to swerve and slam my car into these people.  Luckily, the driver, Jenna-face intact, made a right turn at the next intersection.  I wish I would have busted a U-turn and drove over their shitty, plastic hubcap.

Don't be such freaks, Lexington,
~RoB

Wendy

Let's say you're in charge of a fast food chain.  Might there be a better way to advertise your food than to parade around the obese daughter that the food chain was named after?  I mean, nothing says 'look how good I turned out' like the cute redhead cartoon we grew up with as we were dipping fries into a Frosty turning into:

I mean, I'm not skinny.  I shamefully eat fast food when it's convenient.  I recognize that my diet is shit, and it started with being fed crap throughout my childhood.  I can't wait for America to make the change to be healthier.  Until then, this is sad and should be unacceptable.  Yet, I really want a Spicy Chicken Sandwich.

Eat fast food.  Get Hot 'N Juicy like Wendy,
~RoB

Not Racist

I have a friend that's Nigerian.  She actually speaks 4 languages, since she's extremely well-traveled.

The other day I wanted to ask her if there were any 'clicks' in her Nigerian language, but Annie stopped me, telling me that it was a racist question.  I disagreed, but I didn't ask to make Annie happy.

Last night at The Pub, I finally asked.  I really wanted to know.  My Nigerian friend also thought it was racist.  I think that's bullshit.  The only thing that is slightly racist might be calling them 'clicks'.

rac·ism/ˈrāˌsizəm/

Noun:

The belief that all members of each race possess characteristics or abilities specific to that race, esp. so as to distinguish it as... Prejudice or discrimination directed against someone of a different race based on such a belief.

Ignorant?  Yes.  Otherwise I wouldn't have asked.  Racist?  Not by definition, nor by intent.  I know that there are versions of 'clicks' in at least one African language.  I know of them from The Lion King on Broadway.  I was so obsessed with that show, that I can actually spell the opening sequence in whatever language it is in:  "ingonyama negw'enamabala".  NO I didn't just look that up.  That's off the top of my head.  It might be spelled a little wrong, but at some point in my life there was legitimate interest in African languages because I wanted to know what they were saying.  I once went to a table session with some of the actors from The Lion King during its long Toronto run.  In the middle the discussion, they actually had the whole audience try to make the three different clicking sounds that they use in the songs.

Some of the 'clicks' are found at 0:10 and 0:29 in this song:

South Park, now that's racist.  However, that's the only other time I can think of coming in contact with an African language.  Though it's likely fake, the little Ethiopian 'clicks'.  Though Ethiopia is much closer to Tanzania (where The Lion King likely takes place, since it's in the Serengeti) than Nigeria, is it that awful to wonder if clicks happen elsewhere on the continent?

There are definitely times when I'm racist.  There are definitely times when I don't mean to be racist, but I am.  (For example, the other day Annie and I joked about knocking on a friend's door and hiding.  I didn't know what to call it, since I was raised calling it ni**er-knocking.  I also have to stop myself every time I fix something with duct tape, since I was always taught that was called ni**er-rigging, or in this case ni**er-ri**ing.)  Yes, those are racist, even if I don't mean them to be.  This incident, however, definitely was not.

And no, there are no 'clicks' in her Nigerian dialect,
~RoB

Birthday Party: Part 2 - Nightlife

At this point, my birthday was almost 3 months ago.  That's how pathetic my blogging has become.  But dammit, I led you on, so here's the rest of the story.  The celebration of my birthday this year began with a wine crawl.

After dinner, Annie and I returned home, only to be picked up by two of our friends and dragged downtown to a club.  We started at Hugos.  The dance floor was smaller than I expected, but in general, there was more room than I'm used to at a bar.  I got a little drink on, a little dance on, and I apparently took pictures with strange men (note:  not a gay bar).

I don't know these guys. Not sure why he's touching me, but that last guy is Pitbull.

See, it's the same person.

I was wearing what I previously referred to as my 'lucky shirt' (it did nothing for me at the horse races, so it's now just a shirt).  I decided I needed to start unbuttoning to show people how cool my shirt was.

I was taking off my shirt. Annie was trying to stop me.

If you recognize that shirt, then you probably hung out with me in New Jersey for the summer of 2007.  Other than that, only one person has recognized it.  It happened at my favorite Champagne Brunch in L.A.  The guy who recognized it knew the people that produced the webseries, took a pic of me wearing it, and shook my hand.  Here's the show:

Anyway, we then progressed to Skybar.  The name sounded very cool and L.A.  However, it was just a lounge.  I continued to dance, even though I was the only one.  I continued to drink, too, though I was not the only one.  I'll probably never go back to Skybar, but I'm not upset for trying it out.  It was really cool to see how busy downtown Lexington gets at night on the weekends.  It's the most people I've seen walking around downtown since moving here.

The night ended, conveniently, at the iHop that's pretty much across the street from our house.  Downside:  there was a pretty long wait to get a table.  It was almost 3am.  Apparently, all drunken Lexingtonians had the same thought in mind.  We all wanted to eat so that we woke up the next morning.  I love me some stuffed french toast from iHop, so I was gonna wait however long it required for me to stuff them into my face.  Annie may or may not have zonked out while sitting in the booth.

Since my life is awesome, this wasn't quite the last interesting thing to happen.  Some bitches sitting behind Annie and our friend decided to stand up and tell us to stop pounding on the booth.  The girl that I was sitting next to, part of our crew, is about 6'6" and looks like she could kick all of our asses.  She asked me to let her out of the booth so that she could single-handedly fuck up this whole group, but I wouldn't.

Those bitches are lucky I didn't want to end my birthday party in jail,
~RoB

Why the Ads?

I'm, uh, poor.

And my blogging has dropped significantly since I stopped having a job where I could blog while getting paid.
Not that my life isn't still crazy, or that I don't have funny observations of life anymore.  I just spend all my free time with about 5 part-time jobs trying to make me some $$.

I don't plan on making much money from the Ads, but I'm hoping that it will be motivation enough to come back to blogging.

If I see a big dip in number of readers since y'all hate to see the annoying ads, I guess I'll just stop blogging here.  We'll just return to the days where 'you had to be there' to be part of my ridiculousness.

By the way, I have been blogging since I left, for blogs that help make me money.  You can learn about my Zumba career here.  You can also learn about my winemaking career here.

This blog has been a blast, so I'm really hoping that I can get my fat face in front of the computer again and tell everyone what I'm thinking about.  Thanks for your patience during the transition.  Everyone, but you, Nick.  You've kind of been a dick about me not writing.  (At least you care ;)

Do us all a favor, and click on an ad every once in a while ;)

Best,
~RoB

My First Cavity

I'm 27.  I rinse my mouth with straight peroxide.  I brush every day.  I floss.
I love that my teeth are naturally quite white.  They're not perfectly straight, but there's nothing so glaringly obvious that would convince me to get braces.

They're not perfect.  I only had to get 3 wisdom teeth removed.  For some reason, the 4th one never showed up.  When I'm sick and my teeth start to dull, you can see two weird white spots on my top, front two teeth.  I was told it was a result of being a sickly kid, since rising temperatures cause parts of your teeth to come in more dense than the surroundings.  My guns all line up except for one tooth on the bottom of my mouth.  I really don't think people notice these things.  My mouth has always healed quickly.  In general, I love my teeth.

Then I moved to KY.
Bam!  Two small cavities in the back of my mouth.  That wasn't on my 30 by 30.

The dentist said he told a girl yesterday that she had her first cavity.  She cried.  I felt her pain.

Fuck my teeth,
~RoB