CelebriTuesdays: Guys, Coco better set another place for dinner cause I think Ice-T is my new Best Friend!

ICE T alone


I’m not one to humble brag, mostly since I’m not really that good at humility, but I cannot believe that I haven’t mentioned Ice-T yet! Lucky for you that current events have now forced me into giving you a special Hump Day treat – another post! It’s sort of like getting a bonus Jonas without the preteen angst or acne.


hump day treat.gif


I have been star gazing (or stalking if you will) for a bit now, but one of the very first times I realized that my daily path to work was paved with Hollywood stars was because of Ice-T! As I was walking to work, there was a bunch of people crowding a car that had just pulled up when all of a sudden, Ice-T got out. It all happened so fast: people were trying to get him to autograph things and asking him to snap photos with them so security got in close to block him and shouted “we have to get him inside right now!” and steered him towards the doorway. Thanks to my ninja stealth reflexes, quick-thinking, and terrifying fear of not getting to meet him – I sprang into action like Black Panther. I got right in between the female security guard that yelled about getting him inside and Ice-T and said loudly “Come on guys, we gotta get him inside!” and then put my arm around him and said “but real quick Ice…” and proceeded to snap a few pictures.


He laughed and thought I was funny and said “you’re crazy” and laughed again while we took a few pictures and then he went off into the building for his interview on The Today Show. I merrily shuffled along to work thinking that would be the best part of my day – because seriously, what else could top that? Little did I know…



As is the required by NY State law upon such an occurrence, I posted the pictures to Facebook and I thinking only of my beloved Immodium Abusers in a case like this, I also sent out a tweet or two. I got a bunch of likes which was nice, but then I hit the mother load: Ice-Mother-Effin-T went and liked two of my tweets!!!! He liked two of my tweets!



Of course I saw that notification and then called my wife to share this most joyous of news thinking how over the moon she’d be as well. I immediately went into a ranting diatribe about how excited I was and proceeded to give her a play-by-play and she couldn’t say one word because I was rambling on so much. I started screaming how it was the best day ever (Literally the best day ever!) and tried to explain the latest updates as I had already called her from the corner earlier to tell her about meeting Ice-T. Thinking she’d be a supportive and understanding wife and as excited as I was, you can imagine my surprise by how non-plussed she was.


best day ever


I was out breath and carrying on like a psycho for the second time that day and I thought we must have gotten disconnected because she wasn’t saying anything at all until she finally asked “How can this be the best day ever? What about the day we met or got engaged or the day we got married or maybe the birth of our three children???” “Honey those were great too, no one is comparing, but he liked two of my tweets – TWO!!! That means he was reading my stuff. That’s so crazy!!!  How am I the only one freaking out here?” Now, I’m not saying that the birth of my children wasn’t a notable occasion or that my Wedding wasn’t memorable, but come on – it’s Ice-T. “Honey, did you even read the tweets? They’re really funny and Ice thinks I’m funny too! Did you hear me? Ice thinks I’m funny! He was reading my shit! “Honey, you need to get back to work and leave Ice the hell alone!” And then she was gone. I’m not saying he was overreacting, but have I mentioned that he liked two of the tweets? It wasn’t just a passing chuckle or glance – he went and liked two of them! That night she told me I guess I was lucky that he didn’t retweet them too or I might have actually shit my pants and she might be right on that one!


Ice first tweet he liked


Now here’s the second tweet he liked:


Ice 2nd tweet he liked


As f that wasn’t awesome enough, fast forward to November when I was running the NYC Marathon. They set up an app where friends and family could submit pictures or messages to be shown on the jumbotron in Central Park to motivate you in the homestretch of the race. Knowing how busy Ice-T was, I took the liberty of creating and submitting a photo for him because that’s the kind of nice guy I am. During the race, I was really struggling with the pain, more chafing than any man should ever have to endure and the excessive sweating even through the constant rain most of the day. I was partially dead inside from the race, but once I got to Central Park, my mind was blown when low and behold, I looked up at the jumbo tron and there was me and Ice! I had th only reaction one man could have at a time like that and I started screaming and carrying on lie a little girl. There was a random lady running next to me that looked up when I started screaming and then she looked back at me and said “Holy Shit – Are you friends with Ice-T?” Obviously, I was carried away in the heat of the moment, but what else do you call someone who is supporting you through a really hard time in your life but a friend! “Yes he is lady, yes he is!” I think I was actually flying through the rest of Central Park after that because I was definitely on cloud 9.




The shot from the jumbo tron in Central Park.



I don’t even need to go into how cool of a Dad he is, so I’ll just leave it right here that my son LOVES Paw Patrol too – I smell a playdate coming up! Watch him going through cartoon theme songs on The Tonight Show here: Ice-T on Jimmy Fallon singing Paw Patrol Theme song.


paw patrol


Now that we’re up to speed, let me tell you about today. There I was, just minding my business and checking Twitter to see what Ice-T was up to (as friends normally do) and happened to see his Tweet about the Grammy loss for BodyCount:


ice today tweet


Now what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t say something? A bad one, you’re right. So I sent him a tweet – WHICH HE LIKED AGAIN!!!


today tweet.png



That makes three likes! BOOM! Now – we’ve passed the Friend Zone and are entering Bestie territory. Time to grab drinks and catch up! And tell Ice Cube not to front – there’s enough room for everyone!


ice tea and cube

If you’re laughing at this, my wife probably isn’t – Part Two

Since I wrote about  how I constantly embarrass my wife, I have been bombarded with remembrances:

Hey! Remember when you were punished and forced to sit in the corner by yourself because you accidentally laughed in that male nurse’s face because he had a lazy eye and thus was an obscenely close-talker at that housewarming party?


Hey! Remember when you screamed “Oh my God, what happened to you?” when your wife’s step-mother opened her front door and her hair was completely white because she had stopped dyeing it?  


Hey! Remember when you laughed in that guy’s face in the men’s room at the wedding of your wife’s co-worker because he had chafing so bad from dancing that he had to have his wife bring Gold Bond powder into the men’s room? He may have had Moves like Jagger, but go easy there Buddy – you’re not on Soul Train!

I didn’t realize that a short little baby post would lead the charge down memory lane, but so be it. Apparently, word on the street in our house is that I’ve turned into the crazy relative at the family gatherings that silently farts like a saboteur and doesn’t acknowledge it when he’s on your team for Cranium…I’m not saying that it would have been OK if he weren’t on my team, but come on. Is that the flatulent equivalent of a tree falling in the woods and it stinks, but you don’t know if it really happened because no one will acknowledge it?

Cranium: The only game where crop-dusting earns extra points.

That being said, the groom is 6’ 4” and was marrying a 4’ 10” psycho with flaming red hair and I could just tell that their wedding was going to be a doozy. During her last wedding performance, Homegirl got so wasted on whiskey sours that she almost took out the bride making her entrance on the staircase and then a table full of food when she tried to sit down. I will take a little bit of responsibility for forcing the whiskey sours down her throat until she became socially bearable, but she only talks to animals and my wife ditched me so I didn’t have a lot to work with besides alcohol. You can just imagine how high my expectations were for her trip down the aisle and the fiasco that would ensue.

As a general rule, I don’t like weddings. The food is always terrible or there’s drama with a wayward flower girl that makes me douse her with a pitcher of water but, most of all,  I hate to dance unless I’m really really wasted. Everyone always thinks that their wedding will be different somehow and that it’ll be the best one anybody’s ever attended…Blah blah blah – they’re always the same.

It should be fairly obvious and go without saying that I was a little bummed out that the ceremony went off without any craziness and then started drinking very heavily to make it through the rest of the day. I wasn’t disappointed that it went well, but I just knew when I scanned that crowd and saw 76% of them were senior citizens – to bide my time because this was definitely about to get more interesting.

Fast forward to the Bride and Groom cutting the cake so that they could feed it to each other. To my disappointment, he didn’t push the cake into his new bride’s face so I leaned over to the teenage boy sitting next to me and said “Pussy.” When I said that, I was commenting on the groom not covering his bride with icing from the cake, not realizing that he would then shout out “PUSSY.” Guess who got blamed? Not the young echo sitting next to me that called out the groom for being a wuss at his own wedding, but poor, innocent me who was simply commenting on the state of affairs in that catering hall. Apparently, the “adults” at the table thought I should have known better – but knew what? That he was a freaking parrot and would shout that out? It was really funny though…

I did my best to get that Bride drunk on whiskey sours again, but sometimes your best isn’t good enough and she wasn’t wasted so I gave up on her when she refused to do the worm. Whatever happened to good old-fashioned peer-pressure? If someone yells at you “Do the worm!” you do the worm. It’s just plain rude not to honor a request whether it’s your wedding or not.

That blue-haired crowd wasn’t about to leave any of their seats even if that place spontaneously erupted in flames, so I was left with no choice but to take over the dance floor. Like I said before, I am not a dancer unless I’m completely wasted, but I was a dancing machine at that wedding so you can just imagine the condition I was in. The last thing you wanna do is to get me started with a bunch of Golden Girls – those are my peeps right there! I am not trying to brag, but the majority of the population does not find me attractive, but senior women, with glaucoma especially, find me irresistible.

We started a conga line that the DJ had to actually play twice in a row because it took so long for some of the blue haired ladies to get up out of their seats with their walkers and canes. I was prancing around and grabbing them while screaming out “Come on you little Minx – let’s break a hip!”  Like a young Baryshnikov, I was bopping around like Peter Pan and when that DJ played “the rhythm is gonna get you” – he meant it. I got more digits and emails at that wedding than I ever have before or since. Forget the Cougars – their older sisters are like “Super Cougars” and need love too…

My harem of hotties shaking their money makers!

There was also a short moment during the reception when I tried to get the Maître D to dance with my mother-in-law…I guess I probably shouldn’t have pretended that she was a recent widow to make him feel bad, but he did seem really nice and she does love to dance. I guess not everyone thinks it’s funny when you try to pimp out their mother to the help, but I always find that to be such a gray area…

Like the helper that I am, I tried to make the best of what could have been a bad situation for everyone and I thought I was “helping out” like a crowd motivator at a Bar Mitzvah, but some others felt that wasn’t the case. Apparently, there are social cues I missed out on and I’m the crazy one here…I guess you live and learn for the next family function. Thoughts? Whose side are you on?

The Legend of Dom and Tonna

If you are one of the very lucky ones and happen to be friends with me – you’ve definitely heard me talk about a friend of mine and his wife. If not – you’re in for quite a treat because they are both absolutely nuts. I firmly believe that crazy attracts crazy and even after being married for almost a hundred years, these two are still a perfect fit for each other. The networks are missing a HUGE opportunity by not following these two around with cameras. Forget the Real Housewives – these two are ready for their close-up and it’s all natural, 100% crazy!  

I'd definitely Tivo a show about those two...

I shall call them Dom and Tonna for the purposes of this entry and having known each other for years, even I don’t know where to begin when talking about them. Do you start with her walking right into a glass sliding door in her house? Do you describe what they look like? Does any of it matter? Tonna is short, Italian, and is always cold. Dom is not. He is much taller and wider than her and is one of the absolute funniest bastards that I know. When I say funny, I mean HYSTERICAL like last week when he had his boss’s car towed anonymously because it was parked in a handicap spot. The boss is anything but handicapped and flipped out to say the least, but who has the balls to do that to their boss?

I call this part one because if I were to tell you all of the different stories about this dynamic duo this would be the longest post in creation, so I’ll start with my favorite Tonna story ever. And I mean ever! She was driving her car one fine day when out of nowhere, a deer ran out into the road scaring the dickens out of her. She slammed on her brakes and rammed that poor deer, propelling it onto the hood.  It shot up like a rocket with all the speed and agility of my aunt’s fat farm campers after they completely lubed up their sweaty selves with gallons of baby oil and dove down the weight room hill. I mean fast!

After the impact of the car made it airborne, that poor deer was spinning out of control and yelping as it rode up the hood. In an instant, Bambi arrived at the windshield still spinning like a pinwheel when the deer’s front hoof spun directly into the driver’s side open window and connected with Tonna’s nose. It popped her right in the chops! it got her right in the kisser like this video, I tell you! Then as quickly as it shot up, it slid off the hood and ran off into the woods. That’s the exact reason I’ll never drive with my window open or pick a fight with a deer! Forget Mark Wahlberg in The Fighter, that deer was ready to take on Sylvester Stallone as Rocky Bambi-oa!

"And in this corner Rocky Bambi-oa!"

Dom and I worked together at the time, but he worked the weekend shift and had off every Monday. Tuesday morning came and the whole team assembled for our morning meeting and our boss asked Dom about the weekend. That particular boss, Larry,  was the extreme opposite of Dom or myself; he was very low key, very professional, and did not like fooling around in the workplace. (Needless to say he hated me). You would expect a man that was so orange from cheap self-tanning lotion to, at the very least, laugh at a good joke or sarcastic comment, but with Larry that wasn’t the case at all. In two years that we worked together, I never saw Larry crack a smile once until the day that I told him that I was leaving to go to another company.  

As Dom was recapping the weekend, he started to explain how he was running around like a wild man. In his dead-pan delivery, he proceeded to explain just how bad he got chub-rub on Saturday night when Larry interrupted him and mistakenly asked what Chub Rub was. Dead Silence took over the room as the twelve other people in the room and I were trying not to look at either one of them or, God forbid, laugh.  My head was about to burst from tying to hold it in and my eyes were tearing as Dom said “You know, when you’re running around all night sweating and your thighs rub together so much that the skin wears away and gets irritated from the chafing? That’s Chub Rub!” I almost peed my pants and burst out laughing but it didn’t stop Dom. “My underwear were so soaked through with sweat that when I peeled them off at home and threw them towards the hamper – they stuck to the wall. They actually stuck to the wall!”

Does this even need a caption?

Larry’s face looked like he just had bad Chinese as he picked his jaw up off the floor; he tried to tell Dom how inappropriate that was when he interjected “Imagine how I feel – they’re still stuck on the wall…” I had to leave the room or risk being fired because I couldn’t control myself any longer and I sprinted out like it was burning. No one else could get away with that kind of stuff with Larry and it was one of the funniest things I ever bore witness to.

Much more to follow about these two later – like when Tonna was screaming at the Dali Lama, her famous Bomb Squad incident, when Dom shut down his favorite restaurant in town, or the time he spit his drink right into a client’s face at dinner….