I spend a lot of time on the streets. Since my blog is for the streets there is really no other place I would be able to be. These days being on the streets is hard, especially now when everybody wants to come up to me and ask me questions about the blog and make requests for it. But I don't forget where I came from so I am usually willing to chat about it for a few hours.
Pretty much most of the people want to know where you go after a blog like this. Now that the internet is available in nearly 20 countries all over the world and Europe, is there any goals left after international fame? Well not really other than giving back. I started a new inner city blog mentoring program called Blog's House with all my checks from this blog so that is pretty rewarding. I could only afford one computer and it got stolen the first day but I am keeping my eyes peeled for a new one so be on the lookout for the return of my program that helps me give back to the streets.
The other question I get asked a lot is about how does a blog post get made. Well, I work closely with a team of creative consultants who tell me all the awesome things they love about me and the blog. After they tell me all these things I am usually feeling pretty confident and ready to blog about whatever I feel like.
Probably the worst thing that happens to me on the streets is that people start going off topic really quick. The other day this guy saw me and yelled from across the street, hey it's you the Rush Hour Renegade, the one who makes the Full House blog. I took off my sunglasses and said yes you are right it's me. So then he runs over to me and starts shaking my hand and talking about how he loves everything about my blog. I can handle that since it's something I deal with every day. But then things went awry. He was all like, oh man did you ever watch Perfect Strangers? You should blog about that and how Cousin Larry and Balki were so opposite. Or what about Family Matters, that was a great one too...
This guy is an example of a person I hate. What, just because a show was on TGIF it's all the sudden equal to Full House? That's like saying all Skittles are as tasty as the green ones and we all know that isn't true. Basically, these kinds of people can suck me.
I blog about Full House. Get over it. If you wanna blog about Step by Step or Sabrina the Teenager then go right ahead. It's none of my business. But just so we're clear, this isn't a TGIF blog and it never will be as long as I'm in charge of it. If you want to cut me a check for a million dollars then I will sell you the blog and you can make it all about Mother Winslow if you choose to. But until then, this blog is about Full House so how about you blow it out your ass with all the jibber jabber.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
A little advice...
People are always giving me advice about stuff. One thing about every advice I get is that I don't want it. What I want doesn't seem to matter though so I end up taking some advice just to be polite. Mostly it works out bad for me. Like this one time somebody was like, you should take that thing off your resume about being able to speak Italian since you can't. I ended up taking it off my resume and now nobody thinks I can speak Italian. I don't see how I am better off with people thinking I CAN'T speak Italian.
Another example of bad advice is when I ran over one of my nice work shirts with the vacuum cleaner and it got all mangled up at the bottom. Somebody was like, you might want to stop wearing that shirt because it makes you look poor. Well that was bad advice because I am wearing that shirt right now. You can't even see the mangled part when I am sitting at my desk so who's the fool now jerk.
Sometimes the advice I get is good but most of the good advice I get is way too late. My sister is always giving me advice about my hair right after I get a haircut. Why would you give someone advice to wear their hair longer right after they get it cut really short? It's pretty mean in my opinion but I get back at her by prank calling her at work. We don't talk very much outside of the prank calls so she doesn't recognize my voice. Somebody told me one time that I should keep prank calling her and that was pretty good advice.
Sometimes though advice is just plain scary. Like remember when Jesse was about to get married to Rebecca Donaldson and her dad (Mr. Donaldson) gave Jesse some advice? I know you remember it but humor me. He told Jesse that marriage was going to change him and he better get all the wild oats out of his system. So Jesse jumped out of a plane and got stuck in a tree on his wedding day. I mean he made it to the wedding and sung for Becky (see earlier blog entry) but there was no reason he needed to be stuck in that tree. If it wasn't for advice he probably wouldn't have been.
Basically this blog is about how I hate advice. I live my life feeling stuck in a tree on my wedding day and most of it comes from advice. My main advice is that people should shut up and get out of my face.
Another example of bad advice is when I ran over one of my nice work shirts with the vacuum cleaner and it got all mangled up at the bottom. Somebody was like, you might want to stop wearing that shirt because it makes you look poor. Well that was bad advice because I am wearing that shirt right now. You can't even see the mangled part when I am sitting at my desk so who's the fool now jerk.
Sometimes the advice I get is good but most of the good advice I get is way too late. My sister is always giving me advice about my hair right after I get a haircut. Why would you give someone advice to wear their hair longer right after they get it cut really short? It's pretty mean in my opinion but I get back at her by prank calling her at work. We don't talk very much outside of the prank calls so she doesn't recognize my voice. Somebody told me one time that I should keep prank calling her and that was pretty good advice.
Sometimes though advice is just plain scary. Like remember when Jesse was about to get married to Rebecca Donaldson and her dad (Mr. Donaldson) gave Jesse some advice? I know you remember it but humor me. He told Jesse that marriage was going to change him and he better get all the wild oats out of his system. So Jesse jumped out of a plane and got stuck in a tree on his wedding day. I mean he made it to the wedding and sung for Becky (see earlier blog entry) but there was no reason he needed to be stuck in that tree. If it wasn't for advice he probably wouldn't have been.
Basically this blog is about how I hate advice. I live my life feeling stuck in a tree on my wedding day and most of it comes from advice. My main advice is that people should shut up and get out of my face.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Shut up, Dad
Even though I have been getting pretty famous off this blog for the past week, Father's Day is just around the bend. Like most people, I have a father. He doesn't think I am very funny or successful. He lies to people and tells them I am and then he gets mad at me for forcing him to have to lie. And it's just like, whatever I didn't MAKE you lie, I don't see how this is my fault even though I am not surprised you are blaming me for it.
As a peace offering I have been thinking of inviting him to my blog but I don't think he would even come to it.
This reminds me of Joey Gladstone and his dad Colonel Gladstone. As we all remember, Colonel Gladstone was a Colonel in the army. The Colonel didn't approve of Joey being a comedian even though it was Joey's dream. He had a bad attitude about the whole thing.
Joey got a big break though and ended up opening for Wayne Newton in Los Vegas and the girls called the Colonel to invite him even though Joey didn't even want him there. Well guess what, the Colonel came and he respected Joey. He even said that he taught Joey how to do the Popeye voice even though he couldn't prove it.
I just wonder what would happen if I lived with a bunch of little girls I wasn't related to and they called my dad and told them to come to my blog. He would probably be pretty mad about it at first like the Colonel was. But then he might let his guard down and LOL a little bit. And then he would be like, I just want you to be happy - which is total crap by the way, he doesn't care about that. Then he would be trying to take credit for everything and being like, remember how when you were little and I gave you that crappy typewriter with the broken H key so you couldn't even type your own name with it? And now look at you, you type your own blog all thanks to me.
And it's just like I appreciate what you're trying to do here dad but we're two very different people and we have to learn to accept each other if we want to make the most out of this relationship.
So I guess all this has me thinking about my own dad.
As a peace offering I have been thinking of inviting him to my blog but I don't think he would even come to it.
This reminds me of Joey Gladstone and his dad Colonel Gladstone. As we all remember, Colonel Gladstone was a Colonel in the army. The Colonel didn't approve of Joey being a comedian even though it was Joey's dream. He had a bad attitude about the whole thing.
Joey got a big break though and ended up opening for Wayne Newton in Los Vegas and the girls called the Colonel to invite him even though Joey didn't even want him there. Well guess what, the Colonel came and he respected Joey. He even said that he taught Joey how to do the Popeye voice even though he couldn't prove it.
I just wonder what would happen if I lived with a bunch of little girls I wasn't related to and they called my dad and told them to come to my blog. He would probably be pretty mad about it at first like the Colonel was. But then he might let his guard down and LOL a little bit. And then he would be like, I just want you to be happy - which is total crap by the way, he doesn't care about that. Then he would be trying to take credit for everything and being like, remember how when you were little and I gave you that crappy typewriter with the broken H key so you couldn't even type your own name with it? And now look at you, you type your own blog all thanks to me.
And it's just like I appreciate what you're trying to do here dad but we're two very different people and we have to learn to accept each other if we want to make the most out of this relationship.
So I guess all this has me thinking about my own dad.
Monday, May 26, 2008
If every word I said
I can play piano. I am not some kind of piano master but if someone points at a key on a piano and says what key is that I can tell them what key that is. I also have a piano-related math formula that helps me play chords. It's pretty easy but I am not going to tell you it because then we would both know how to play piano and I am happier with you not knowing.
Something that had a big impression on me was when Jesse played piano and sang for Becky at their wedding. I often sit around fantasizing about doing something like this but let me tell you that it takes balls. Because of that, I haven't really gotten all that close to doing it.
There is a few reasons for this. The first reason is that I don't own a piano. Even if I did own one, I'm not sure how much it would help me in the balls department. Here is why it is much more complicated.
If you play piano in public, you have to be ok with the world knowing that you play piano. Where I am from, dudes playing piano is frowned upon. You don't want to get branded as an ivory-tickler if you can help it. Sometimes when I tell people I can play piano I feel like I am telling them about how I have a male lover. They don't exactly laugh in my face but they don't ever really call me very much after that.
So this is why what Jesse did was so awesome. He played piano for his lady in front of a crowd of people and he didn't even care who was watching. That was brave of him. Maybe if I lived in California like Jesse does I would see things different but from where I am sitting, he is pretty much like the guy in China who stood in front of the tank in Chinamen Square. Playing piano by yourself in public might not be the smartest thing you could do but people aren't probably going to forget it.
Something that had a big impression on me was when Jesse played piano and sang for Becky at their wedding. I often sit around fantasizing about doing something like this but let me tell you that it takes balls. Because of that, I haven't really gotten all that close to doing it.
There is a few reasons for this. The first reason is that I don't own a piano. Even if I did own one, I'm not sure how much it would help me in the balls department. Here is why it is much more complicated.
If you play piano in public, you have to be ok with the world knowing that you play piano. Where I am from, dudes playing piano is frowned upon. You don't want to get branded as an ivory-tickler if you can help it. Sometimes when I tell people I can play piano I feel like I am telling them about how I have a male lover. They don't exactly laugh in my face but they don't ever really call me very much after that.
So this is why what Jesse did was so awesome. He played piano for his lady in front of a crowd of people and he didn't even care who was watching. That was brave of him. Maybe if I lived in California like Jesse does I would see things different but from where I am sitting, he is pretty much like the guy in China who stood in front of the tank in Chinamen Square. Playing piano by yourself in public might not be the smartest thing you could do but people aren't probably going to forget it.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Up the down staircase
Yesterday my friend sent me an email telling me how great my blog is. I love getting emails like this because they finally prove once and for all that I am doing something good with my life. This friend in particular probably worries about me more than most people because he is a police officer. So it makes sense that he doesn't approve of lots of stuff.
But he was like, hey you did a really nice job on that blog so I was like, hey I appreciate that. But then he said something that brought back some painful memories of me and him arguing about Full House. I am still mad about it right now in fact.
He was like, Full House reminds me of how I have always wanted to live in a house with two staircases even though theirs are not architecturally accurate. I read this and I was like man, you have got to be kidding me. We have been having this exact same conversation on and off for the past eight years and every time I convince him that the staircases do in fact line up, he just forgets about it. He has even admitted about how I am right on several occasions and then he acts like it never happened. And then six months or a year later he will bring up the freaking staircases on Full House like I didn't totally spend hours explaining this to him before.
If this blog proves anything it's that some people just don't get it. Obviously the kitchen staircase turns at least one time and spits you out at the back end of the upstairs hallway. The main staircase has a final unseen turn before it spits you out at the front of the hallway. The bedrooms are above the main room and kitchen. What's not to get?
I have some very vivid memories of me drawing pictures of the layout for my friend one time. I either did this in real life or in a dream I had but does it even matter? This feels pretty basic to me.
Don't get me wrong, I love talking about Full House. But I am tired of explaining this same thing over and over again when somebody just refuses to listen to reason. The layout of the Full House house is something I can just see in my mind and people are going to have to trust me about that. If I say the staircases line up, the staircases line up. I am not trying to explain away an inconsistency, I am saying the layout is architecturally sound.
Gah when are people going to shut up and start trusting me.
But he was like, hey you did a really nice job on that blog so I was like, hey I appreciate that. But then he said something that brought back some painful memories of me and him arguing about Full House. I am still mad about it right now in fact.
He was like, Full House reminds me of how I have always wanted to live in a house with two staircases even though theirs are not architecturally accurate. I read this and I was like man, you have got to be kidding me. We have been having this exact same conversation on and off for the past eight years and every time I convince him that the staircases do in fact line up, he just forgets about it. He has even admitted about how I am right on several occasions and then he acts like it never happened. And then six months or a year later he will bring up the freaking staircases on Full House like I didn't totally spend hours explaining this to him before.
If this blog proves anything it's that some people just don't get it. Obviously the kitchen staircase turns at least one time and spits you out at the back end of the upstairs hallway. The main staircase has a final unseen turn before it spits you out at the front of the hallway. The bedrooms are above the main room and kitchen. What's not to get?
I have some very vivid memories of me drawing pictures of the layout for my friend one time. I either did this in real life or in a dream I had but does it even matter? This feels pretty basic to me.
Don't get me wrong, I love talking about Full House. But I am tired of explaining this same thing over and over again when somebody just refuses to listen to reason. The layout of the Full House house is something I can just see in my mind and people are going to have to trust me about that. If I say the staircases line up, the staircases line up. I am not trying to explain away an inconsistency, I am saying the layout is architecturally sound.
Gah when are people going to shut up and start trusting me.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Talk To Me
If you wanna know what's hard, that's eating lunch with people. Lots of people at my job eat lunch in the break room together but not me. Sometimes they want me to eat lunch in there but they aren't the boss of me and I will eat lunch wherever I want to eat it. My lunch is basically just a sandwich which I like for its portability and also how easy it is to eat with one hand. This leaves your other hand free to roam - which really fits my needs.
But sometimes I worry about eating lunch alone at my desk. First of all, I think I am embarrassed of my sandwich because it is only bread and meat. I don't put any cheese or vegetables or condiments on it and people have a problem with that. I just don't care about that stuff but some jerk is always going - man, how do you eat that with nothing on it, that's disgusting. Lookit, I don't need you telling me my lunch is gross just because I prefer the flavours of meat and bread with nothing else getting in the way of it. Step off.
But I just look around and feel all these eyes judging me. Eyes that say things like, look at that pathetic retard who can't even barely make himself a sandwich. I am glad I am not him.
So I usually eat in a self-imposed exile. This reminds me a lot of that one episode of Full House where DJ goes to school for her first day of seventh grade and she doesn't have the same lunch time as Kimmy so she has no one to eat lunch with. Also, she is wearing the exact same outfit as a really dorky teacher but all the other girls her age are looking fly in tight dresses and makeup. They pretty much laugh in her face which is a lot like what I am afraid might happen about my sandwich. DJ is embarrassed about the whole thing and decides to eat her lunch in the phone booth while pretending to make calls.
Basically I feel like I eat in the phone booth too much. DJ only ate in the phone booth for one day but then she went home and figured out how to wear makeup with the help of trial and error and Aunt Becky (spoiler alert: the secret to wearing makeup is to look like you aren't wearing any).
The point of this blog post is that I could learn a thing or two.
But sometimes I worry about eating lunch alone at my desk. First of all, I think I am embarrassed of my sandwich because it is only bread and meat. I don't put any cheese or vegetables or condiments on it and people have a problem with that. I just don't care about that stuff but some jerk is always going - man, how do you eat that with nothing on it, that's disgusting. Lookit, I don't need you telling me my lunch is gross just because I prefer the flavours of meat and bread with nothing else getting in the way of it. Step off.
But I just look around and feel all these eyes judging me. Eyes that say things like, look at that pathetic retard who can't even barely make himself a sandwich. I am glad I am not him.
So I usually eat in a self-imposed exile. This reminds me a lot of that one episode of Full House where DJ goes to school for her first day of seventh grade and she doesn't have the same lunch time as Kimmy so she has no one to eat lunch with. Also, she is wearing the exact same outfit as a really dorky teacher but all the other girls her age are looking fly in tight dresses and makeup. They pretty much laugh in her face which is a lot like what I am afraid might happen about my sandwich. DJ is embarrassed about the whole thing and decides to eat her lunch in the phone booth while pretending to make calls.
Basically I feel like I eat in the phone booth too much. DJ only ate in the phone booth for one day but then she went home and figured out how to wear makeup with the help of trial and error and Aunt Becky (spoiler alert: the secret to wearing makeup is to look like you aren't wearing any).
The point of this blog post is that I could learn a thing or two.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Gladstone Awareness
Something that bothers me is pants. Not wearing pants, that is one of my favorite things to do. I am doing it right now. What really bothers me is bad pants - especially on men and ladies.
Over the years, I have started to refer to bad pants as "Gladstones" after the popular character Joey Gladstone on Full House. When it comes to bad pants, his are the best.
Sometimes bad pants are bad because they are too high. Sometimes they are bad because they feature elastic around the waist and ankles (which makes things easier when going potty but pants you need to unbutton are worth the effort). Sometimes bad pants have designs printed on them and it doesn't matter how neat a design is, it doesn't belong on pants. Any one of these characteristics in isolation constitutes a pair of Gladstones. All three at the same time is the worst thing that could happen to pants.
I sit at a desk that people walk by. When they walk by I often look at their pants. The amount of Gladstones I see is staggering. I want to stop them and say, hey who let you out of the house in those Gladstones? Or also, hey fag nice Gladstones. But I just sit there and don't say anything. Trying to rid the world of Gladstones is like trying to boil the ocean. I don't have time for that. Well, I do have time for it but I have to write this blog now so
I just realized that at least 80% of the people reading this blog are probably wearing Gladstones right now. The biggest problem is a lack of Gladstones awareness. Believe it or not, over half of all Gladstones wearers have never even heard of a Gladstones. So I made up this simple checklist of questions that you can do right now.
Is your navel currently being covered by your pants?
If yes, Gladstones.
Are the bottom cuffs of your pants constricted around the lower part of your calf or ankle and possibly your socks?
Don't look now but those are Gladstones.
Do people point out stains on your pants that are actually part of the intentional design?
In many cases, you are likely wearing Gladstones.
Do people avoid having sex with you and blame it on your pants?
You guessed it - Gladstones.
Lots of people think Gladstones don't exist because they don't know that they are wearing them. Here are a few tips to do if you just now realized you are wearing Gladstones.
-don't panic
-take your pants off
-buy different pants
Well I hope you realized a few things today.
Over the years, I have started to refer to bad pants as "Gladstones" after the popular character Joey Gladstone on Full House. When it comes to bad pants, his are the best.
Sometimes bad pants are bad because they are too high. Sometimes they are bad because they feature elastic around the waist and ankles (which makes things easier when going potty but pants you need to unbutton are worth the effort). Sometimes bad pants have designs printed on them and it doesn't matter how neat a design is, it doesn't belong on pants. Any one of these characteristics in isolation constitutes a pair of Gladstones. All three at the same time is the worst thing that could happen to pants.
I sit at a desk that people walk by. When they walk by I often look at their pants. The amount of Gladstones I see is staggering. I want to stop them and say, hey who let you out of the house in those Gladstones? Or also, hey fag nice Gladstones. But I just sit there and don't say anything. Trying to rid the world of Gladstones is like trying to boil the ocean. I don't have time for that. Well, I do have time for it but I have to write this blog now so
I just realized that at least 80% of the people reading this blog are probably wearing Gladstones right now. The biggest problem is a lack of Gladstones awareness. Believe it or not, over half of all Gladstones wearers have never even heard of a Gladstones. So I made up this simple checklist of questions that you can do right now.
Is your navel currently being covered by your pants?
If yes, Gladstones.
Are the bottom cuffs of your pants constricted around the lower part of your calf or ankle and possibly your socks?
Don't look now but those are Gladstones.
Do people point out stains on your pants that are actually part of the intentional design?
In many cases, you are likely wearing Gladstones.
Do people avoid having sex with you and blame it on your pants?
You guessed it - Gladstones.
Lots of people think Gladstones don't exist because they don't know that they are wearing them. Here are a few tips to do if you just now realized you are wearing Gladstones.
-don't panic
-take your pants off
-buy different pants
Well I hope you realized a few things today.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Have Mercy
So basically this blog is going to be about one of the greatest television shows in history, Full House. I think a lot of people enjoy this show ironically, but not me. This show is seriously funny as balls and if you don't see it you are an idiot.
That being said, this blog will not only be about the show itself, but it will also be about things in my life that are like Full House and stories I hear about other people that are like Full House. There will also be stories about me talking about Full House to people. Full House is much larger than the show itself in my eyes.
I feel that the characters are people we can all relate to. Being a somewhat talentless and frustrated musician, I know where Jesse is coming from. And much like Michelle, I am the youngest of three children. So there you have it.
Obviously this show is a part of our cultural fabric and we can no longer separate the show from real life. I struggle with this daily. In fact, I've been dealing with this for years.
I started getting way into Full House again when it came on TBS when I was a freshman in college. Its back-to-back episodes at 4:00 and 4:30 really complimented my lifestyle at the time. And I rediscovered the show's quality. I remained committed to watching 2 or 3 episodes daily for the next five or so years.
And now, at the age of 28 I have decided to start this blog. Because this show touched me where it counts. This is my gift back to it.
That being said, this blog will not only be about the show itself, but it will also be about things in my life that are like Full House and stories I hear about other people that are like Full House. There will also be stories about me talking about Full House to people. Full House is much larger than the show itself in my eyes.
I feel that the characters are people we can all relate to. Being a somewhat talentless and frustrated musician, I know where Jesse is coming from. And much like Michelle, I am the youngest of three children. So there you have it.
Obviously this show is a part of our cultural fabric and we can no longer separate the show from real life. I struggle with this daily. In fact, I've been dealing with this for years.
I started getting way into Full House again when it came on TBS when I was a freshman in college. Its back-to-back episodes at 4:00 and 4:30 really complimented my lifestyle at the time. And I rediscovered the show's quality. I remained committed to watching 2 or 3 episodes daily for the next five or so years.
And now, at the age of 28 I have decided to start this blog. Because this show touched me where it counts. This is my gift back to it.
Wake Up San Fransisco!
Call your Aunt Becky because a hot new blog is on its way. That's right, the Rush Hour Renegade is out of retirement and back on drugs which can only mean one thing. Stay tuned to the internet to find out what!
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