PLEASE HELP ME!!!! There’s no two Waze about it – We need to get Ice-T as the voice of Waze!



Ice 3


They just brought back the Cookie Monster voice for Waze, but still don’t have Ice-T on there and I will not let this fundamental wrong go on any longer!  We must stand up and demand that Ice-T becomes the voice for Waze immediately.  Over a million people follow every word of his on Twitter each day, so it’s time we’re able to follow his directions out on the streets as well!  Join me and let’s help to right this unacceptable and avoidable wrong right now! Sometimes you have to stand up and say this is not right and try to fix it!


Also, is Ice-T not the coolest M*thafucka ever? Who doesn’t want to commute to work to the soothing sounds of “I said turnright Dunbf@ck!” Or “m*thafucka, popo up ahead!”


I’m short fat and bald and ask for so little, but this is a true gift we can all share this Holiday Season!


Band with me people and let’s make this world a little brighter!

help me



It’s Bubbe’s Berfday

It’s a holiday kids! I don’t mean Tito Puente eating paste al dente or the one that starts with sparklers and ends with a bang: It’s Bubbe’s Berf Day!

Unlike a parent that can’t admit that he likes one of his kids more than the others – I wanna wish a very Happy Birthday to my Number One fan: Bubbe!

There are so many reasons she’s awesome – but isn’t the fact that she loves this site more than life itself reason enough! She’s obviously smart, funny, and has great taste!

While other peeps frown on all things piling up on the outer regions of the “internets,” she’s blazing a trail and making her way to bring happiness to the masses!

Me and Bubbe making cream puffs!

Also, did I mention her cream puffs? Obviously that isn’t meant as dirty as it sounds, but homegirl can cook too!

We might just do a Vlog with us cooking up some treats one day which is sure to wow the masses! We’re a match made in heaven: she’s sweet, witty, and caring and I’m just funny to look at!

Please google “Annie smack that Fannie” right now!

In all seriousness, one moment doesn’t define someone’s lifetime, but for all intents and purposes – Bubbe literally broke the mold when she hatched Annie-Smack-That-Fannie! Yes folks, the awesomeness carried over when she birthed the holiest of all pigeon-pooping-people and has raised a smart, funny, caring, Immodiumabuser obsessed woman in her image! Take it from me when I say that the internet is forever grateful for that and one only needs to google “Annie smack that Fannie” to see why!

The apple didn’t fall far from the tree…and the poop didn’t fall far from the pigeon!

For all these and many more reasons – I celebrate you today and always! You’re truly a special lady and I hope you have a great day!

Also, did I mention those cream puffs?

And for your birthday – here’s a shot of me and Darryl Strawberry, right before our dance off.

Ok one more. Here’s one of me and Hal Prince to make you feel young again – you look like a teen next to him!

He’s 91 years old and has ten times the energy I do!

CelebriTuesdays: Marie Osmond & Dee Snider! She’s a little bit Country, he’s a little bit Rock and Roll!

Marie 2

They don’t call me Eagle Eye for nothing – OK no one calls me Eagle Eye, but I’d really like people to start. Since I’ve been stalking celebrities, I’ve run into a few people that I didn’t recognize, but not this time. The door opened and there she was: Marie Osmond. I was walking up to ask for a photo as my buddy asked who it was. What? I was thinking to myself who doesn’t know Marie Osmond? but then I remembered that I didn’t know who N.O.R.E was until I was literally fondling his thumb so I guess it happens.


Marie could not have been more gracious, unlike the gentleman my friend Chris mistook for Freddie Highmore (The Good Doctor) who was not as friendly as he could have been. She snapped pictures with everyone and told more than a few people how cute she thought they were. Full disclosure, I was actually not one of the men she said was cute, which reminded me of what my mother told me when I asked as a young man if I was good looking: “You’re funny, your looks don’t matter!” I’m still not sure if that was a compliment or not, but I guess it was a nicer way of saying no. Thank God my kids are cute like my wife and funny like me – they’ve got best of both worlds!




I’d put up a poll on here to measure my cuteness level, but I feel like my fragile ego is right on the brink anyway, so I’ll spare you. Feel free to light up the comments section below with just how cute you think I am…


donne and marie concerts


As she was entering the building, my buddy looked back at her car and said “Is that Donny Osmond still in there?” “NO” I snapped back – “that man is tiny like a little peanut, elderly, and more importantly – he’s Asian! Have you ever actually seen Donny Osmond?” Needless to say Donny wasn’t rocking the sidewalk like his big sister.


Dee Snider


On the opposite end of the spectrum is Dee Snider, lead singer of Twisted Sister. As a person that grew up with a really twisted sister constantly singing I Wanna Rock over and over again, I feel like I can really relate – so it was awesome to meet him.


dee then and now


The car pulled up and all of a sudden he just popped out right in front of us and we asked to take a picture. He stopped and said what sounded like “No”, but he was standing there smiling so it was a little off-putting and I paused. I was surprised that he had said no since it was only three of us there and it would have just taken a minute and also, he stopped. Why would he stop if he didn’t want to do it? I was just about to start singing his classic song “We’re Not Gonna Take It” but then he said it again – “Go!” I laughed and said “Sorry, I thought you said NO!” which made him laugh and he said “It did sound like NO, didn’t it? Come on!” He was really very cool and a friendly dude! He’s starring in Rocktopia on Broadway until April 15th, so get out and go see it!


dee rocktopia



Taron gave me a lot of Eger-tention today!

kim jong fun


You never know what people will like as you’re writing it; I’ve written things that I think are hysterical and gotten no response whatsoever but, today, I’ve gotten more love and page views than any other since I started this site in March of 2010. My CelebriTuesdays post on Taron Egerton was a hit I guess. I’d like to thank my loyal Immodium Abusers around the world like Annie Smack that Fannie, AJ, Don, Steve, and today especially, I want to thank all my South Korean Peeps! What up to all you crazy little souls out there in Seoul?



Today alone, there were almost 100 South Korean views – I’m assuming it’s the North Koreans rushing the border to get on non-restricted internet to sign up for my posts. Mention one little Fatwa from Kim Jong Un, and all of a sudden peeps are hopping the border to come check me out. Obviously, if I go missing tomorrow, someone should immediately call the Secret Service, but I’m seriously considering calling President Trump and offering my talents to replace Dennis Rodman as the new Peace Ambassador. I bet we can settle this nuke dispute over a few of my crazy stories and a couple of Imodium tabs? Sing it with me: “All we are say-ing, is give Imodium a Chance!”




Most of my readers usually come from The United States, but today I was all over the globe: over 100 views each from Japan and The United Kingdom, but I see you peeps out there in Bangladesh, Serbia, and South Africa reading me too. I’m ready for my world tour like Eva Peron!




I can see the search terms people are looking for when they stumble upon this little site and the top two are usually rugby bulges thanks to my crazy friend Weezy and thanks to my mother-in-law! Obviously, I’m not writing rugby or in-law porn, at least not yet (you can never say never), but my crazy little stories attract all sorts and show up in the craziest of places. Every once in a while,  I try to see how people reading my stuff found me and you can forget about rugby bulges and dirty pictures with my wife’s mom, I should have been writing about Taron Egerton all this time…



Still, that doesn’t explain my South Korean surge today, but I’ll take it. Years from now, we’ll probably find out I’m the Searching for Sugarman of South Korea! If you’re one of those crazy folks in Bulgaria searching for rugby bulges and this site shows up – you are certainly in for an unexpected treat! Obviously, I have a little work to do to up my anemic fan base in New Zealand, but come on – they’re still holding a grudge against me because I didn’t like the Lord of the Rings movies – you gotta let it go like Elsa, you crazy Kiwis!



Apparently, Taron Egerton doesn’t just play an international superstar in the movies – he really is. Separate from the people that liked and retweeted my original post, @DailyTaronNews retweeted me twice and then sent out my link to score me all kinds of love and over 115 likes – thanks guys! They’re the most up to date daily Twitter source for all things Taron and they obviously have great taste – Go follow them!


kingsman poster


Obviously, the next logical step is to have me play Friar Tuck opposite Taron’s Robin Hood…Let’s make it happen people because if you keep giving me this kind of affection – this site might turn into Full-time Taron Fan Fiction! While you’re here – follow the site so you never miss an update!




CelebriTuedays: Jimmy McMillan – The Rent is Too Damn High guy is Super Fly!

They say don’t meet your idols because they’ll never live up to your expectations, but when I met Jimmy McMillan, I was floating just as Damn High as the Rent! Welcome to the CelebriTuesday Time Machine; buckle up because we’re travelling back in time five years to a much gentler time with a much fatter and much balder me…


rent is too damn high


If you don’t know who Jimmy McMillan is – stop right now and educate yourself about one of the founding fathers of New York City Politics! Forget about Hamilton and learn about something important! You can’t go wrong backing a candidate with a background featuring careers as a Karate Expert, R & B Artist, Stripper, Private Investigator, AND creator of The Rent Is Too Damn High Political Party! Get the facts – Jimmy got your backs!



jimmy kaate

Get the facts – Jimmy got your backs!



It was New York City – Election Night 2012: The world was a different place and politics were politics, but you didn’t actually feel dirty watching the politicians as you do nowadays. Of course, nothing mattered to me as much as the guest of honor at the election night party I’d be attending: none other than Jimmy McMillan! The Rent Was Too Damn High and he was out preaching about it! I was prepped and ready to meet the man, the myth, the legend!



JIMMY mcmillan

Taking No Shave November to a whole new Level!



I’d written about Jimmy before and was a fan, but I went with limited expectations as sometimes with these networking events, you don’t actually get to meet the person; who knew my humble dream was about to come true! I got to meet Jimmy and snap a few pictures with him and he was charismatic and funny, and a literal chick magnet as tons of hot young girls were just hanging all over him! He was crazy as all get out, and the longer I stayed and chatted, the more stories he told; I was captivated and hanging on every word. He was crazy and outrageous, and the stories were unbelievable, yet I couldn’t turn away from him or his handler (yes he had a handler, a man who during the day was a professional working for JP Morgan, but working for Jimmy is his “passion project” whatever the hell that means).


passion project


I told him that I’d written about him and that I was the Immodium Abuser. He asked what I’d written so I showed him – not remembering that in the very first paragraph I’d compared his goatee to two giant fuzzy white testicles resting on his chin and said he was wearing OJ Simpson gloves. Anyone else might have had the sense to stop reading, but when did sense ever stop me. Besides that, he thought it was hilarious. That’s when the true irony of the situation struck me like a lightning bolt: there I was explaining to a crazy person as if I were the sane one – that I call myself Immodium Abuser and write crazy stories and then I proceed to read him something I’d written about him and his nose hair. Basically he was watching the train wreck the same way I was: we each looked across and instantly saw another lunatic just like us realizing that crazy really does radiate towards crazy!



Jimmy asked me if I knew why he hadn’t been in the public eye so much lately and I told him that I just assumed it was because he lost the election, but he leaned in and said it was much more serious than that: he’d had major surgery to remove shrapnel in his stomach. “Oh my God” I said – “did you get shot?” “No” he told me “it’s from an old wound from the Vietnam War…They had to put magnets down my throat to get that shrapnel out. The magnets were tied to a string and they had to go in and out and remove them one by one that way. I was awake the whole time.” The handler kept nodding along and interjecting throughout the story adding “mmmhmmm – I was there – it was touch and go – mmmhmmm – we almost lost him – touch and go.”


touch and go


“What?” I asked “How was it touch and go? He just said he was awake the whole time? That’s not touch and go. Also, what kind of magnets were they using – they must have been really strong…and what kind of string were they tied to? Like kite string? Yarn? How did they get it down your throat? Who did this surgery – are you sure they were a doctor?” I had a million questions that I was shooting out rapid fire to try and clear it up and make heads or tails if what they were telling me, but the answers seemed even more incredible and crazy than the original story and the two of them kept laughing at me as if I was the crazy one there…Seriously though, what kind of string could they have used? I was just picturing him lying there while the doctor was using a kid’s toy like this:


fish magnets


We had a blast and laughed a lot but the night was coming to a close as Jimmy was telling me how he was getting a car sponsored with The Rent is Too Damn High logo wrapped around it and I was thinking I should get one with Imodium Abuser on it. Then I think that I actually might have offered to volunteer for the next campaign (which I would do in a heartbeat by the way) as we said our goodbyes…I was drunk and had a long train ride home ahead of me, but I knew deep in my soul this was a great night that I’d never forget. I thought he would be crazy and fun in person, but he was out in orbit and I loved every minute!


Rent-is-too-damn-high car


Although Jimmy McMillan isn’t running for Mayor again, he is running for City Council in New York City today, so what better time to revisit that night we met…Hopefully you voted today and remembered the reason for the voting season: The Rent is Too Damn High!!! I don’t get any special compensation if you buy these, but these dolls make a great Holiday gift for everyone on your list:


jimmy doll



Newsflash: I still hate birds!!!

Bird 5

This is when that nasty bird was starting to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. Notice how calm and polite my brother’s bird is…He’s like Doctor Doolittle over there!

In case you didn’t know, I really freaking hate birds. If you’re a disciple of my Imodium Abusing cult, this isn’t news to you. If it is new, take a look at these examples of how the bird world has been systematically banding together in a worldwide avian conspiracy to torment me. This might sound paranoid if only one or two birds had come after me and tormented me, but it’s gotten to the point where I’m not even safe leaving the house.


bird attack


We go to Ocean City every Summer and while we were riding a surrey on the boardwalk, lo and behold – I’m under siege! I apparently can’t go a day without a filthy seagull dive bombing to try to make out with me or grab my pretzel; either way, no means no! Fast forward to my brother walking by what he thought were pretty birds and guess who wants to take a picture with them?




Bird 2

Notice how supportive my brother is…

He thought it would make a great keepsake to have a photo with these allegedly “nice” birds as opposed to a surfboard key chain or hermit crab like all the other tourists were getting. I was against it for obvious reasons, but was forced to relent to peer pressure from my kids. I didn’t want them to realize just how ridiculous I really am yet, and I tried to be a big sport figuring it would be over fast. I stepped up with caution and wished I could fast forward through it, but of course, I got the twenty-two year old cranky bird while my brother (AKA Doctor Doolittle) got the two-year old friendly bird.


Bird 1

From behind, it looks like Bernie Sanders found a new hobby taking photos with real birds instead of dealing with the crazy birds in DC!

The wrangler placed that gigantic bird on my arm and it proceeded to wrap his sharp talons around my wrist like a handcuff and then moved his head and beak so he could look me right in the eye; showing me who was boss. I was like “No fucking way Dude, get him off me” and almost threw that heavy bastard, so the wrangler thought it a better idea to mount him on my shoulder for everyone’s comfort. That would have been fine had the bird not immediately tried to bite off the tip of my tasty little ear like Mike Tyson. He was fresh and the wrangler was actually flicking his beak to get him to behave as if that wouldn’t piss him off more. He was like Chatty Cathy talking to the bird to get him to cooperate and I was like “Let’s take the God Damn picture and get it off me Dude.”


no birds


Of course my brother had the perfect bird that was like a statue – the guy should have just zoomed in and snapped it of them. This is the final shot – the only “good one” he could salvage out of all the shots he took. He actually got a kick out of my torment while my brother laughed hysterical and had my wife show him the pictures she took to laugh at.


photo final

This is the final version the wrangler took – A) Look at that bird’s grip on my shoulder – he’s not messing around! Those are clenched claws! I also was clenching in this photo, just not my claws…B) Look at my bug-eyes. I look like Joe Gatto from Impractical Jokers C) Why is his bird so calm and mine’s a lunatic?

While we were in a gift shop the next day, my kids saw some bird stuffed animals and said look – this looks like the one that tried to bite your face off and laughed hysterically as if it wasn’t a traumatic experience for me. hen they put the bird on their shoulder to do a play-by-play and reenact the whole thing and then made me do it. If my brother ever gets any more bird-brained ideas like this, I’m just gonna walk away next time before the kids can sway me. Never again folks, never again.



reenact 2

My kids made me relive my trauma – anything for the kids!

If you haven’t read about the bird attacks I’ve been lucky enough to make my way out of, it’s worth the read. Out of the posts I’ve put up here, the bird attacks rank pretty high in terms of searches. Random right? People search for bird attacks and find me as much as they search for, watching dirty movies with my wifes mom and rugby bulges. These crazy people are for the birds, but you gotta start somewhere…



Bird 4





For a smart guy, I’m actually pretty dumb at times: PART TWO

dumb yoda meme


Most people look back at something lthey’ve written five years ago and think about how they’ve grown and matured, but I look back at this and think: I haven’t learned one damn thing! I’m still the same stupid ass I always was, if not worse because I’m now older and more set in my ways. The one thing I do know for sure is that I still always think people are kidding with me and it still gets me into trouble every time.




One would think after the countless times that I’ve embarrassed myself that I’d have learned a lesson or two, but the only thing I’ve learned is that of the senses I have – common sense isn’t one of them.



psycho - paths


One day at work, my boss ambled in to our morning meeting looking scattered and disheveled as usual, so I didn’t think anything of it. He looked up and paused before he said “Sorry I’m late, we had to have my wife committed last night.” Take that in and think about what a normal response to that should be. Now think what my reaction was. Apparently, its bad form and not the correct response to start laughing hysterically when someone shares that kind of personal information, but I truly didn’t realize he was being serious. He wasn’t a jokester or anything like that, but everyone has their moment now and then. Everyone was staring at me as if I was the crazy one, when I said “Oh right, my wife is nuts, should I commit her too?” Come to find out – the wife really was all sorts of crazy and he really did have her committed the night before. Of course I felt terrible when I realized he wasn’t kidding, I’m not an animal…but he did have to tell me three more times because I really thought he was playing around on a Monday morning. I mean, who says personal things like that in front of a moron like me? Thank God he was used to being around crazy at home so he didn’t hold a grudge against me.


april fools day meme


I won’t even get into the time that I didn’t believe that my uncle had committed suicide because it was April First. I got the call and was like “April Fool’s Day? Sure it’s real. Ha ha, jokes on you.” Never once did it occur to me that no one in their right mind (even my crazy, crazy sister) would ever joke about something like that. In my defense, I was also really wasted so my sister had to repeat it to me more than ten times before I took her seriously. I’m not proud of that, but it was April first and I was wasted and I mean, come on, it was April Fool’s Day – I’m not counting that one. I will admit though, it wasn’t a shining moment for my highlight real…


mr t april fools.png


Worse than that, if you can believe it, was the time I was at work and we had a new assistant named Miriam who was on her second day of work. Her second day of work and there she was, doubled over in pain at her desk. I’m pretty sure we can stop here and safely say that any person in the world with absolutely any sense whatsoever would have immediately stopped and called an ambulance, but of course, not me. I thought for sure that she was messing around. No joke, I was a hundred percent convinced that she was screwing with me. In hindsight, who in their right mind would kid around about that on their second day of work, but at that moment in time, I could have sworn that she was kidding. Here she is doubled over kneeling on the floor next to her desk and I was standing there grilling her – trying to “catch her” in the joke. She’s groaning in pain and says “Tony, I need an ambulance…I’m not sure what’s wrong with…” and I cut her off and I was like “Oh right…you’re not doing well…what happened? Did you eat in the employee cafeteria?” and was laughing to myself. She nodded yes and then I thought for sure she was kidding. It was right around then that she had started to attract a crowd of other people around who thankfully had a lot more sense than me and called an ambulance.




I was trying to tell her to stop playing around because if they call the ambulance, there’s no turning back and they won’t think it’s funny if she’s fooling around, but all I got were confused looks and icy stares…it wasn’t until the paramedics finally showed up and as they were loading her onto the stretcher, they asked her who she wanted to go in the ambulance with her, that I started to almost believe that she might not be kidding after all. She looked at them and then at me with fear and concern, and then she shot me the look that told me very loud and clear that there was absolutely no way she wanted me to go with her, and she chose Lauren instead. Obviously a smart move. I wasn’t officially offering to go, but if she would have requested me, how could I say no. Even I’m not that mean.


i am not a smart man


I’m not proud to say, that even after seeing her rolled out on that stretcher moaning in pain, that for some odd reason I still didn’t really, one hundred percent believe that she wasn’t kidding until Lauren called from the hospital a few hours later to say that Miriam was being prepped for surgery. Apparently, it was really serious and she needed to have her gall bladder removed because it had ruptured. Picture me with egg on my face as everyone was mad at me as if it were my fault and I was the one that ruptured that gall bladder. I did feel terrible when I heard that and then I felt even worse when her husband called me to apologize because she’d have to be out of work for a week or two and he wanted to tell me how sorry she was for this happening at work on day two. I could not apologize enough and reassure him that it was OK, but I’m sure he was thinking what an ass I was the whole time.



Injured man sees that he is being taken to the 'No Biggie Room', as opposed to the 'Emergency Room.

After that incident, we actually had to institute the use of a safe word at work which I will circle back and talk about another time. I would like to say that a lot of people that I worked with needed the safe word to know when something was serious, but I’m pretty sure it really was just for me…I bet a lot of people have this happen to them, but since I was in charge of the department, apparently, I should have been an example and come to find out – it’s frowned upon when the boss is an idiot and can’t recognize that someone in distress obviously needs medical attention. I’d like to say that I have learned my lesson, but I wouldn’t hang around me if you’re not feeling well. After all, I am the same idiot my wife had to tell ten times that she was in labor after her water broke, because I thought she was kidding around. In fairness to me, it was during a hurricane where we had no power and it was storming like mad outside, so I thought for sure that she was messing with me. Apparently, a lot of women don’t really play jokes when they’re in labor…Point taken.


how stupid you sound


Hopefully in five more years, I won’t be revisiting another debacle I caused because I didn’t believe someone, but odds are pretty set against me learning any lessons or gaining any insight into the inner workings of a normal mind. Be careful folks and if you’re friends with me, be extra careful as my stupidity knows no bounds…


you are not so smart

My life story


Guillermo and his Amazing Dreamcoat

sweating meme

As I was sweating my balls off in this ungodly heat today on Metro North, I started dreaming of winter and how refreshing the cold weather can be and it made me think about a former colleague, Guillermo, and his winter wardrobe.

If you’ve never seen a hustlin’ seventies pimp in real life before, head over to Accounting to take a gander and you won’t believe your eyes. If only Ben Affleck had consulted Guillermo for wardrobe ideas before they started shooting The Accountant, the movie probably would have done a lot better. He’s short, mid-fifties, wears big glasses and looks like Super Mario’s brother Luigi. I don’t want to be mean and say he was fat, but when the police eventually draw his chalk outline, it’s going to be a circle….Now add a huge fur coat on top of this and he looked like a cartoon character. Forget Joseph’s Technicolor Dream – he wore a fur coat and matching hat that made him look like the product of a hot three-way between Luigi, Huggy Bear from Starsky & Hutch, and an actual Grizzly Bear.

accounting department outing

Our Accounting Team

As the seasons turned and the winter breeze crept into the air, it’s normal for most people to gradually work longer sleeves and sweaters into their wardrobe, but not Guillermo: he went balls out straight to the fur! The best part was his matching hat which made him look like a Yeti covered in fur head to toe. You just couldn’t look at him with a straight face. At first, I thought that he might have accidentally worn his wife’s coat, but day in and day out, he rocked it like a Hurricane. My wife has informed me that normal and mature people don’t stare or make comments in situations like this, but I’ve never been mistaken for normal or mature.

Guillermo was a nice man, but I couldn’t get past the coat. I had to know where he got it and why he wore it and how the hell he wasn’t sweating like crazy in it. I have very lite self-control in situations normally, but this was putting me over the edge. He felt like people were making fun of him (Newsflash – we were!) and didn’t like to talk about the coat, but curiosity was getting the better of me and I just knew that had to try it on. I’m OCD and the thought of being inside that pelt skeeved me out big time, but I knew I needed to step up here and that it had to be done.

joe namath

Guillermo Namath

I was leaving the company to work at another company and I knew it would be my only chance, so I casually started talking about the coat and was leading up to me trying it on for a picture. He randomly told me the story of how a homeless man attacked him on the subway trying to steal it, yet he fought him off with all of his might causing the left arm to be ripped off the coat. It took his tailor three weeks and the skins from two raccoons and a squirrel to mend it, but apparently it was good as new. I was picturing his subway Fight Club in my mind as he was telling me, but all I could think of was the Wampa cave scene with Luke Skywalker in The Empire Strikes Back. Apparently, G isn’t Star Wars fan…


At first, he was playing hard to get and didn’t want to let me try it on. “Stop it, now give me that coat” I said which forced him to explain to me what his hesitation really was: apparently, not every man can wear fur because not everyone has that certain swagger needed to pull it off. AS IF! “G, are you asking me to wear this down Fifth Avenue? OK, now it’s on!” With that I put on the coat and we headed for the elevator!


Now this is swagger!

What I failed to realize, was just how heavy the coat was actually going to be. It was literally as if I had crawled up inside a bear’s ass and then walked around carrying the bear. It was also hotter than the sun inside that coat by the way. I felt like Han Solo when he cut the Taun Taun open for him and Luke to sleep inside and keep warm. I mean, I sweat excessively in just a t shirt and shorts, but I didn’t have that coat on for a full minute before I was soaked right through. I don’t know how the hell he wore that around and didn’t pass out! It gets cold in New York, but for Christ’s sake – global warming people…you don’t need fur! Forget about mistreatment of animals and that it’s wrong to wear fur or that it’s just mean; what’s mean is making a person sweat like that from a coat!

taun taun

G looked at me and said “how does it feel?” as if I were test driving a Ferrari and I’m not sure if it was my spirit animal literally engulfing me right there in the office, but I said “it makes me feel like this!” It was at that moment that I chose to jump on the conference table and pose like Burt Reynolds in Cosmo and show him who had swagger. While the ladies in my office thought it was hysterical, Guillermo felt I was crossing line and was now being disrespectful to the coat as if that point hadn’t been passed long before. With that, I told him we’d take it to the streets and we headed for the elevator so I could prove my swagger on the streets!

Conference Room Table

Swagger to spare!

The winter Holiday scene in the lobby of our building had a nice display featuring polar bears, snow, and penguins – the perfect winter scene scape for me in the fur! I proceeded to do what every sensible person does right about then and get into the displays and frolic with the wildlife until security sent us on our way.

coat in lobby 010

I did rock that coat and prove my swagger, but he was right – not every man can pull of a fur coat. I probably could and should have gotten one of my own just to spite him, but I’d have died from heat exhaustion like I do on Metro North each day I commute, so no fur for me. I did get a few strange looks, but being that it’s NYC, no one cares about this idiot strutting around inside a carcass. The moral of the story is be careful what you wish for or you’ll end up hot and sweaty on your knees with a bunch of penguins and not the good kind of hot and sweaty either!

Tony Baloney – Why you no fat no more?



I’ve told you about how great it is to be a regular and how nice it is to have people remembering you, but sometimes that’s not the case at all.  



3 signs


There was a little bodega run by a Chinese family across from work that I used to hit up every morning on my way into the office. Being OCD and a creature of habit, I used get my healthy breakfast of two Diet Pepsi’s and an individually wrapped chocolate chip muffin every day before work. This was before I started running, before I was eating healthier, and way before I lost sixty pounds. Yes, that is a lot of weight and yes, I realize I was a fat ass…thanks for reminding me.


 no more mr fat guy


As part of my morning routine, I’d get off the train, hit the convenience store and then head to work. Every day it would feel like forever waiting on that damn line in the store, but it was right across the street and you kinda get used to it after a while. When I say it was a long line, I mean like twenty people on the line long winding throughout the store. Picture a conga line doing the mannequin challenge.


 ling line


Fast forward to the new and improved, skinny me getting bottled water and a protein bar! As I was almost at the register for my turn to pay, I made the amateur mistake of turning my head to check out the candy display and see if I should tempt myself with some delectable Swedish Fish (the only seafood that I eat). Before I knew it, the cashier was screaming out “Next. Next. Next customer. Nex…WHOA!!! WHY YOU NO FAT NO MORE!!!!!!” A hush came over the store as everyone looked to see who she was talking about. Of course I turned away from the candy and momentarily though about dropping my water and protein bar to sprint out the front door, but she waved me over to her and shouted “COME ON!” I was terrified that she’d start screaming even louder or I would have let someone else go ahead of me while she continued on just as loud. “I can’t believe you no fat no more! What happened? You so different?” she exclaimed as loudly as she possibly could. I threw money at her to try and distract her and get her to shut up but it was to no avail. I tried my best to pretend like I didn’t hear her shouting and just smiled without looking back at the line of tittering patrons waiting their turn behind me wondering just how fat I actually was since I didn’t look all that good now…A normal person would never go back into a store after that, but did I mention that it was directly across the street? I don’t care if she started shouting “Run Fat Boy Run” while throwing Ring Dings at me – the OCD wasn’t letting me break my routine for anything…


 Bologna 2


Flash forward a few months later to a very stressful, meeting-filled day, and I was in dire need of some comfort food. When life beats me down, food always makes it better so I headed over to the bodega. I know you’re thinking that’s not a healthy response to stress and that’s exactly how eating disorders start, but nobody likes a know it all! As I was searching the displays for something tasty to make everything all better, I decided that we were at defcon three and hit the deli counter for the only remedy: Bologna and cheese! It’s not something that I eat often, but it reminds me of when I was a little kid and always cheers me up. It also reminds me of a day when my sister Marlene ate almost two pounds of bologna forcing my poor little cousin to go to Sailing camp with nothing to eat for lunch. Just like Brooke Shields in the 80’s, she wasn’t one to let anything stand between her and her Boar’s Head. When questioned about her excessive Bologna intake, she defensively sneered “If you can’t feed me send me home!” Some people have happy Disney memories of their childhood, I have random Bologna fantasies: Tomato/Tomah-to.  

cant feed quote

If she knew that my sister could eat like she had two assholes, Mother Theresa might rethink this quote…




So, I head over to the Deli counter and asked for bologna and cheese on a roll with a tiny bit of mayonnaise. I like my sandwich to be dry and by that I mean so dry that you’ll actually start to cough. I really don’t like mayo, but a little drop here and there is OK. How is it that no one in the entire service industry is able to comprehend what the word “little” means when ordering food? I usually don’t even bother ordering mayo because people never listen and you’re just setting yourself up for disappointment. Ask for a little ice and the cup is full; ask for a “little” dressing on your salad and you’ll be calling in the Coast Guard because the lettuce starts to look like little boats drowning in the ocean.




My friend Max was with me and mocking me as I ordered. He isn’t what you’d normally consider funny, but proceeded to ask the counter attendants if they also thought it was as ridiculous as he did that my name was Tony and I was ordering bologna. All of a sudden three guys that don’t understand 95% of the language were hysterical laughing and saying it back to each other “Tony Baloney” while pointing at me. I find it so interesting that in the English language there are so many vital and beautiful words or phrases that one can learn, but the takeaway here was “Tony Baloney!” Now a normal person would have maintained some level of dignity and got the hell out of that bodega, but I really wanted that sandwich and they were right across the street…     


Tony Baloney 1



In hindsight, maybe heading to the place where random cashiers shout about how fat I am isn’t the best place to make me feel better on a stressful day. No one said I was a quick learner, but I got the message now!


effin balogna sandwiches.png



The Fugitive

begin again.png


My friend Michelle is really smart and we have a lot in common; we both worked for the same company, we both love the soundtrack to Begin Again, and we both think I’m one of the funniest people ever! I told you she was smart!!!


While that’s normally enough for to people to bond over, what really cinched it was when we discovered that we share something even bigger than that: we both have an embarrassing one-armed man story! This is not to make fun of anyone handicapped or make light of missing limbs, but what are the odds? (Actually, call me out on that challenge if you actually do have a one-armed man story – let me know and I’ll add it to this post!)

 the fugitive


This was a few years ago when I was working in event planning and before I learned how to act professional and appropriate in the workplace. OK, it was before I learned how to pretend that I’m a professional and pretend to act appropriate in the workplace. I was somewhat new to the job and in that awkward getting-to-know-you phase when I went to lunch with two of the ladies from the office. As we were talking about hobbies and things we like to do, I randomly went off on a tangent about gambling and casinos and my obsessive love for Baccarat. Patti nodded in agreement with my game of chance choice, but Karen looked at me and said “I only play the slot machines!” Why would you waste time and money on slots?” I countered “You never win on them. You can’t trust anything with one arm!” At this point they both looked at me weirdly – Patti with a weird look of shock, and Karen’s face always looked weird, but this was more of annoyance. Patti was shaking her head no back and forth for me to stop talking and tried to change the subject, but true to form, I can’t ever let anything go. “Why would you play those? You can’t trust the one armed man – remember? They only have one arm! Give me one example of something with one arm you can trust?” to which she was fully annoyed and said “My mother has one arm. I trust her!”


At this point any person with any sense in his head would shut the fleck up, but not me. Of course I still couldn’t let it go. “Oh right Karen, your mother has one arm…sure she does…and I’m really a Kennedy…Ha Ha…one arm –come on…” She was pissed now and said “Who would make that up? It’s not funny – my mother really has one arm!” “Right Karen, did your mother get bit by a shark? She only has one arm? You’re such a liar…”and with that she had enough and walked away. Patti was laughing hysterically because I was such an ass and wouldn’t take her signals and just shut up. Then she was swearing up and down that Karen’s mother really only has one arm. “Come on Patti, I don’t believe either one of you. Mess with the new guy right? Whose mother has one arm?”


slot machine


Karen then proceeded to call her mother and make her come in to the office to show me. Low and behold, she really did only have one arm! She was cool about it because I’m sure she probably gets it all the time but then she was like “who would joke about having one arm? What kind of a person does that?” And I was like “I would…but I’m an idiot…” Once again proving that people usually aren’t kidding around and I never believe anything. Open mouth, insert foot…Also, Karen actually farted in front of me my first day on the job and I ran into the bathroom to call my wife because I couldn’t control my immature laughter, so I should have known she wasn’t really a jokester…


Michelle worked in The Gap when she was in college and as a man came out of the dressing room trying on a nice green sweater, he was looking at himself in the hallway mirror to check himself out. She, being the cheery salesperson, walked over to assist. “Hi there, let’s see how that looks on you.” With a puzzled look on her face “Come on Sir, you’ve gotta put both arms through the sleeves so I can see how that fits” and with that she grabbed the sleeve dangling where his arm should have been. She shook it and then realized from the expression on his face, that he was missing the arm, but she wasn’t missing the look on his face. “Looks great” she said as she dropped the empty sleeve and proceeded to take her walk of shame into the storeroom. Good thing she wasn’t working on commission…

gap logo.png


Now in working together we both shared embarrassing stories and laughed at each other…Flash forward to us together at a trade show chatting away at a luncheon while the band Foreigner was playing for the crowd. I was paying attention to her and our conversation – not noticing anyone else at the table when the lead singer started introducing “I Wanna Know What Love Is.” He wanted everyone to get out of their seats, grab someone we love to sing along with and dance. At this point our table cleared with everyone heading to the dance floor leaving just me, Michelle, and the old man seated on my left. Just as the singer asked, I leaned in like I was going to hug Michelle and then quickly turned away to the man on my left and jokingly hugged him instead. I’m not sure who was more shocked: him to be hugged by a stranger singing the wrong words off key or me to find out mid-hug that he only had one arm! Another one-armed man and now I had just accosted him.


He looked back at me like I was crazy and seemed somewhat relieved when I stopped singing along and then I tried to casually turn to Michelle and whisper. I’m not a good whisperer anyway and with the music so loud it was more like a half-shout stage whisper: “One arm! One arm.” She of course had no idea what I was talking about and I was trying to lip the words instead of saying them out loud “He…only…has…one…arm.” She got the message loud and clear. And so did he! By this time he had gathered his stuff and proceeded to walk across the ballroom towards the exit getting away from me as any sane person would. Then I saw it – he left his messenger bag on the floor next to his chair.

OJ white bronco.png

I leapt up and sped into action like OJ in the White Bronco – I grabbed his bag and started running, leaving Michelle at the table alone. The crowd was massive, and heading towards the restrooms and exits, when I knew in my heart this might be my only change to ever try out my Tommy Lee Jones impression: “Stop that one-armed man! Stop him!” I shouted as I bobbed and weaved like Keanu in the Matrix. People were looking at me with a mix of wild annoyance and confusion, yet I finally caught him outside the doors on the convention floor. I was about two feet in back of him when I reached out and grabbed his arm (obviously, the full arm – not the dangling sleeve like Michelle) startling him and he whipped around. He had a definite look of annoyance while I was smiling like I should be his new hero. “Here’s your bag – you forgot your bag at the table! Didn’t you hear me calling you?” He just glared at me and didn’t say one word while he took his bag back from me. No thank you, no smile, just a weird glance and then he walked away and was gone into the crowd.

tommy lee jones.jpg

I’m not saying that he owed me another hug or a thank you, but not even a smile? Burt Bacharach sang What the World Needs Now is Love Sweet Love but even he couldn’t have scored a smile that day…The message we take from this: You can’t trust a one-armed bandit!

The Perks of being Regular

its great to be regular


No, this post isn’t about pooping! Come on people, not every post is about that – give me some credit will you! I’m the number one Immodium Abuser, but it seems like you’re the one focusing on Number Two. When I say being regular, I mean keeping the same routine and eating the same things…


OCD and you know it


As my wife can surely attest, my OCD has been known to get in the way every so often, but also it has helped in a few ways. For instance, when I find something that I’m able to eat, I stick to it like glue and don’t veer off path. I will eat the same thing day after day; you know I’m all for a good routine.

ocd might die


Saying that I’m a picky eater is kind of an understatement; I’m a downright pain in the ass. I have accepted it a long time ago and can admit it. I’m not being dramatic either – I’m annoyingly ridiculous when it comes to food. I don’t eat anything sweet, sour, spicy, ethnic, fried, battered, flavorful, tangy, zesty, poached, powdered, etc. Basically if the menu has an adjective when describing the entree – I know it’s not for me. The blander the better and I mean Senior citizen, nursing home food kind of bland.


white rice


My absolute favorite meal is white rice! Seriously – not ice cream, not pizza – white rice is my jam! Besides the fact that it’s binding (which is a gift in itself) it’s easy-to-make and it’s filling. I don’t mean that I like rice and people think “why don’t you just eat brown rice because it’s more nutritious” or wild rice because it has more flavor. No way! Plain white rice is better and I’ll tell you why: If you’re eating a bowl of white rice and you happen to look down and see something black you know immediately that it isn’t rice and you stop eating. If you’re eating brown rice or wild rice, you can’t tell if something crawled or fell into the bowl. It’s dark and crunchy but, was that a bug or a kernel of rice? If it’s white you know it’s safe to continue on. It may sound crazy, but you’ll thank me the next time you look down into your bowl and see a little black fleck trying to burrow through your warm scoop of rice…



It’s not so much that I have a food allergy as it’s a food avoidance because I’m terrified of the consequences. For me taking Imodium before I eat anything is the equivalent of having insurance on your car. You wouldn’t drive a car without insurance would you? Same principle and remember: no one likes the guy on the train that shits his pants in a suit no matter how funny he is! Remember Along Came Polly with the Ferret? That’d be me. If you haven’t seen that movie – go get it on ITunes right now!


done correctly


I’m a creature of habit, so if I can find a place that can put up with my pain in the ass ways – I’m loyal and don’t change. As in, I’ll seriously eat there every single day loyal. At work, my friend Beena turned me on to a Chinese restaurant that was really clean and had good food. I was suspicious of her because the last time I listened to her, we went to a Chinese restaurant where they had “traditional” seating and we ended up sitting on the floor like stray dogs and we were forced to take off our shoes.


sitting on the floor


I’m not sure what was scarier: the seating arrangements on the floor, the waitress slipping while trying to serve soup to the people sitting on said floor, or of Beena’s footwear of choice for the lunch: Khaki pants short enough to showcase her white tube socks with black Michael Jacksonish looking slip-on shoes…It was a brave fashion choice: not a good choice by any means, but a brave one nonetheless.


Beena's shoes.JPG


Leary of finding a piece of cat mixed in with my grilled chicken, I was afraid to try another place she recommended, but relented after I did a drive-by to check it out. It was busy, seemed really clean, had nice soap to wash my hands in the bathroom, and an A grade in the window! I went in expecting it to be bad, but low and behold, I was blown away. Beena and Imi know how I eat, so they ordered for me and all of a sudden, the clouds parted and the sun shone down one me: All at once I had found the Cheers to my Norm! It was like a dream as Joann the waitress put down my plate with a beautiful stack of white rice scooped and sculpted ever so gently next to a perky little stack of steamed vegetables lying alongside a gloriously plain pile of grilled chicken drier and blander than my last boss’ personality! It was perfection on a plate that I had been searching eons for. I’m not sure what type of feline special Imi and Beena were eating that day because I couldn’t concentrate on anything besides my lunch; I was captivated by that entrée. I had never been a big fan of Chinese food before, but I was converted that day!


Me and Joann


One bite and I was hooked; we started going there two and three times a week. I actually took a picture of that delicious meal so I could show it to the waitress the next time in case they couldn’t tell what I wanted, but in just a matter of days the legend was born: The Tony Special. When I walk in now, it’s like a scene out of Entourage and I’m Vincent Chase – no menu necessary!!! I sit down and they all know what I want. I literally never need a menu again because it was a given what I’ll be ordering. Do you have any idea how nice that is? It’s the closest I’ll ever get to being treated like a celebrity.


tony special.JPG

The Famous Tony Special!



Next time, forget the perks – we’ll explore the perils of being a regular…


food is undercooked



A little game called “Hey Hooka – How Much?”


hey hooker

Sometimes once you do something a few times it kind of loses its luster and tends not to be fun anymore – let me tell you about a little game that never happens with: Hey Hooka – how much? This isn’t Cranium people – you don’t just play it with anyone. It’s strategic and well-timed – like crop-dusting in the workplace. As is the case with most amazing inventions like Imodium AD and the shoe horn, this game popped into my head and I hit it out of the park one oppressively hot July day a few years back.

The first car I had with Air Conditioning The first car I had with Air Conditioning

I was on the way to work and had the air conditioning cranked as far as it would go like Scotty giving it all she’s got with the Starship Enterprise. When I drive in hot weather (anything over 68 degrees) I have every…

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Sister, please tell me about the Baby Jesus…

Pretty the Kitty sends her holiday wishes to everyone!

Pretty the Kitty sends her holiday wishes to everyone!


For the past week, I’ve been talking about my sister and it feels just a little bit wrong in a way. Not wrong because I wrote nutty things about a crazy person, but wrong because I held back and like Vanessa Williams: Went and saved the best for last. When talking about my itty-bitty, cray-cray sister and celebrating her Birthday Week, there is no more accurate portrayal of her in anything I’ve ever written than the famous Baby Jesus post! It would almost be irresponsible and selfish of me not to share it with you!


You think I'm Crazy...


Once again, she was causing bedlam in the bathroom and although this was one of the few times that no cats or walls were shit on, it also outlines her stint as a local vigilante worthy of the Master himself: Guardian Angel Curtis Sliwa! That’s not even to mention the time we were driving in the back of a parking lot one night and came upon a drug deal and she started holding the horn down, flashing her brights, and shouting out the window! I did what any real man does in that situation – I dove into the back seat and ducked for cover on the floor screaming like a little girl. Curtis, put her on patrol man, she’ll clean up the streets in no time.




I was in Home Depot last week and saw a nativity set that I almost bought to revisit Kim for a reenactment, but didn’t because my sister is pretty sure she’d press charges this time. Either way click here for  The Famous Baby Jesus Story and hear a most amazing tale about me, my sister, and the absolute true meaning of Christmas!


The Famous Baby Jesus Story