“Please do not offer my God a peanut”

Devious Bastards.

Kudos to the titanium stomach lining of Indian-Americans. Last night was the first time I indulged in authentic Indian cuisine at a nearby eatery.  I sunk  my teeth into what could best be described as a chunky lamb chili of sorts with a coconut after taste. Rice and Garlic Naan (Indian Flat Bread) are the accouterment which typically accompany the main course. And I ate it all up with a ignorant grin on my face and washed it down with several glasses of cabernet; unaware of the unapologetic trials and tribulations my poor digestive system would come to endure.

Not an hour later,the routine act of digestion, began to ferociously take it’s toll on my wee tummy. It felt as if I was trying to metabolize fresh cement. And I’m sure you’re saying to yourselves’ ” Of course you’re going to feel like shit soon after eating Indian food. What the hell did you expect?”. Well, what I didn’t expect were hang-over like side effects as my body fought tirelessly  to rid my nervous system of the spicy evil within. I guess I’m a light weight. Cold sweats,  the shakes, gas which could annihilate a whole village of slum dog toddlers ,  and a foggy sense of self, which I’m just beginning to break out of, were some of the after effects. And all of you  thought the consequences of eating Mexican food was the utmost punishment for the digestive process.

Despite what I went through, I can honestly say that I would most definitely gorge upon Indian chow in the near future. After the first bite, my palette, for some odd reason, was indefinitely addicted to the  potpourri of spices that are infused in every Indian dish. See the trick is to mentally and physically prepare for a feast this discouraging, days in advance.

It was well worth the pain however. Besides, I can use the culture.

Hiatus

Possibly the best tag ever.

This picture was taken via my camera phone, (3.0 mega pixs!..meh not too shabby), right outside the Brooklyn Brewery I visited not  1 month ago. That was the day of my first mid-day hangover. Not recommended.

After that elongated and fuzzy outing, I came upon the signature of the one they call ( on the street), ” Horse Jesus.” This “nick name” of sorts, could possibly be one of the most intriguing and some-what humorous pairing of words I have yet to see.

Who is this “Horse Jesus”? And if you are half steed  and half messiah as you claim to be then why is the only proof of your existence  a mere mustard colored “ethnic signature”. And why scribe it  just outside of a happening hang-out?

Or perhaps you aren’t a holy pony! Perhaps you are just another trashed and trippy hipster who thought both the name and the “comic-sans-esc” quality of the tag would both confuse and captivate an audience of other trashed and trippy hipsters alike or.. OR.. those who consider myself…themselves, quasi-hipster.

The answer is out there. And so the search begins for the one they call…”Horse  Jesus.”

 

And yes, I may have recently drank too much wine.

Obamanation..dated…but relevant none the less.

Why would it be an issue if Obama was Muslim? Seriously. Does that immediately make him a radical fundamentalist? The Muslim people are peace loving individuals like the rest of us. A small percentage of Muslims in the Middle East are in fact terrorists, of course. However, as the saying goes, the part, doesn’t necessarily represent the whole. 9/11 was the icing on the cake for us. It shook our country to the core no doubt, and because our said attackers were practicing Muslims, hatred for the Muslim world as a whole is now ingrained in the physce of our culture.

I know this is old hat but W is a born again Christian, correct? After the horrific attack on our nation, he responded to our enemy immediately by sending troops to Afghanistan. A necessary endeavor at the time that has transformed into a quagmire, to say the least. Here begins the domino effect: The Axis of Evil, The Iraq War..and so on.

So despite his so called Christian ideals, which promote peace and love for one another, Bush, obviously, did not enforce those beliefs accordingly, at least in this case.

Also, many radical Christians, the KKK and Timothy Mcveigh, represent a small percentage of practicing Christians. Because of those radical groups, do any of you believe that all Christians are bigots, terrorists, or likewise? Of course not. Who would believe such a negative stereotype?

The Oklahoma City bombing was the most significant act of terrorism on American soil until the September 11 attacks in 2001, claiming the lives of 168 victims and injuring more than 680.The blast destroyed or damaged 324 buildings within a sixteen–block radius, destroyed or burned 86 cars, and shattered glass in 258 nearby buildings.The bomb was estimated to have caused at least $652 million worth of damage.

Since that atrocity, most Americans  do not label  practicing  Christians as “dangerous fundamentalists”,  despite the fact that the attack was carried out by Timothy Mcveigh, a Christian fundamentalist.

Though due to the inept reasoning of the American populace, Muslim and terrorism come hand in hand.

Religious ideals are only dangerous when they enter a disturbed mind. Obama seems to be on the level.

So who cares if the president is in fact Muslim?

As long as Barack continues to lead the way in promoting peaceful actions and diplomacy throughout the globe, he, along with other following world leaders , will help ensure the safety of our country and the human race…a bold statement..but.. Isn’t that we wall all want anyway?

Favorite #1

Unfortunately, I haven’t been updating my blog all that often. This is going to change starting now. In addition to posting lengthy and humorous opinion articles now and again, I will be posting shorter essays, almost daily, on “Favorites” of mine. These “Favorites”  will include anything and everything, ranging from movies to pop culture, to zubaz pants. So…here goes…Favorite Numero Uno…in no particular order of preference.

Bow To Me

I can recall the exact day I came upon this rare find. I, being a daily consumer of Arizona’s 99 cent Big Boy Can O’ Green Tea, was ready for an Arizona of a different color. Grand Central Market of the hapless town of Mahopac, NY was the locale where I first discovered this diamond in the rough, so to speak. Quick tangent: Whenever I utter or hear the phrase ” A diamond in the rough”, the following imagine comes to mind.

Street Rat

Damn you Walt Disney. You  and your frozen head. So as I was saying, I came upon this sweet nectar in a local deli. Oh and what a find it was.              This beverage has all the metabolical benefits contained in Green Tea (makes you poop on the regular), in addition to the heart healthy              antioxidants of Pomegranate Juice. Oh and the taste! As this magical elixir hits your tongue a deep and  delicate sweetness encompasses your taste buds as it finishes with the tartness of a pomegranate  and a subtle  hint of green tea. Oh jeez, I just popped a massive boner.

Here’s a word to the wise: when any of you fellow beverage enthusiasts hit up a local deli and or gas station market, I suggest you keep a sharp eye peeled for this delectable drink. I assure you, once you indulge in its potpourri, you’ll never be the same. Now let’s all give thanks to Favorite #1: Arizona Pomegranate Green Tea. It truly is the pinot noir of all Iced Tea beverages.

Va Va Voom!

 

 

A "fuck me stare" from her would do me in.

                                                       God bless the full figured woman. I shake my fist at a society that fawns over anorexic barbie doll princesses’  with too much make up and xylophone stomachs. Give me a gal with a slight beer belly,  full legs and a bountiful behind. I am by no means a chubby chaser. Nor am I against women who keep in shape. I just appreciate the milk maids and the Marilyn Monroe’s of our era.

Take the above picture for example. The goddess above is none other than Christina Hendricks from the AMC program entitled MAD MEN ( The best show on television). She revels in her beauty and campaigns her figure proudly on the red carpet for all to see. I, obviously, have fallen in love. This is, however, not the first time I fell for a busty brawd. 

Kate Winslet is another love of mine. I fell for her and her magnificent acting after the first viewing of the overrated Titanic.

The full figured woman is beginning to get her due. Not too long ago  Dove began  the “real beauty” campaign in which they chose curvy “real” woman,(not professional models),of today to pose for various billboard spreads and the likewise throughout the world.

  Fruit Of The Loom is also beginning to give “real woman” a voice as well in their latest commercials which depict various scantily glad beauties in Fruit Of The Loom underwear, getting ready for a night on the town with “their man”.

 ” I am fat”  she whines on a daily basis. ” No you’re not honey, you’re beautiful”  says he reassuringly. It’s true ladies, you’re not fat, you’re fucking beautiful and we’re not just “saying that”.  Here’s the test ladies, if you start resembling Joesph R. Gannascoli, ( ya know, Gay Vito from The Sopranos), then you’re a hefer.

Yikes!

 

  Take my word for it. Most guys, whether or not they’d like to admit it,because if we did you’d think we’re calling you fat, appreciate a curve or two.

  There is something unbelievably sexy and alluring about shapely women. These particular women exude an air of robust sexuality which intoxicates most of the male populace. The rail thin Flockhart’s and the emaciated Reid’s are so 1998.  As is that turn of phrase. 

On the flip side, I’d like to think most women prefer a man with a large build rather than a wiry frame. A guy that can devour a ribeye,  a side of mashed taters and  three beers followed by a double espresso and a large hot fudge sundae for dessert, in one sitting.

Women enjoy feeling protected or at least, if he lacks the very basics of self defense,  the illusion that they are safe in the arms of their big brawny man.

While us guys just want some meaty thighs to grab onto while we’re banging you out….

 

 Just kidding ladies, you know I love you. 

        

The Lost Generation

 

“Look Around At Everyone, Everyone looks Alive and Waiting”

           Williamsburg, Brooklyn was a sight for these artistically starved eyes.  <<–  Lookey here, an opening sentence drowning in pretension.  Which is what Williamsburg  is drenched in; pretense.

The majority of Williamsburg’s population are overcome with artist’s ( in every sense of the term), ranging from their 20’s to mid 30’s, with an inert desire to  bask in whatever opposes the mainstream. The style of dress meanders from glorified hobo to a fashion elitist on a casual day. The breathing air swells with apathy and attitude. Thrift shops, posh cafe’s, dive bar’s and pseudo-intellectual bookstores line the walkways. Free concerts hosted by the latest “it”,  indie band(s) are typically held at dilapidated parks with charm. All of this fantastical nonsense and more borders the East River with a stimulating view of  the Manhattan skyline.         

Welcome to New York’s Haight-Asbury. As many of you know, Haight-Asbury was the birthplace of the hippie movement in the 1960’s as well as the beat movement. America’s 1960 counterculture sought refuge in the somewhat inexpensive, quaint, and sparsely populated San Francisco town.

Now in no way is this a hippie movement. I mean, hippies are amongst the population for sure. However, there is a movement stirring. Albeit a stagnant one. However,the six hours I spent in Brooklyn this past Sunday opened my eyes to a possible revolution of thought. I can’t say what idea our revolution would revolve around though. The difficultly with beginning a revolution is that you have to have a voice that represents the whole. The African-Americans had MLK, the hippies had John Lennon, and who do we have, Obama?

Sure it was a great success, hardly a surprising one, that he was elected President. See the tricky thing is that he has a lot on his plate and not enough time to be our true voice. What  with the current Recession, the war in Afghanistan, eradicating Globing Warming,  pushing Universal Healthcare, making amends with the Middle East and so on. So sure he may be the indirect voice of our generation, but  he isn’t our “leader” in the sense that he’s speaking for us; Obama is speaking for the greater good of our nation, and not necessarily for the young people of our generation.

So what are we? We’re lost. Even in writing this entry I’m lost. Haha. I’m lost in making some sort of point.

I guess my point is that we have met our downfall even before stirring the pot. The hippie’s downfall was drug abuse. Our downfall is selfishness, materialism and obsession with the lives of celebrities. Our revolution cycle is as follows: 1.We band together and fight for or against a cause,  2.We near a solution, and 3. We get sidetracked by Shaq’s latest tweet, Michael Jackson’s Funeral, or the brand new Blackberry Storm. And repeat. 

I believe that we are the most pampered generation to date. Everything has been handed to us by our parents. Why? Because it’s what we expect. We expected a cell phone and car by the age of 16. We expected our parents to pay for our college education by the age of 18. We expected them to allow us to bunk up with them after we graduate. Lastly, we expect them to bail us out when times are hard, even after we exit the nest for the 2nd time and begin to live “independently”. If we don’t get what we want , we subconsciously, view it as neglect and begin to feel unloved. The poor “rents” have no choice but to give in.

All I know is  when I move out of suburbia in the upcoming months I plan on settling in Williamsburg. So when the voice of our generation makes it self known, I’ll be there to follow it. Meh, ah well…(apathy) I’m just trying to stir the pot….until I purchase my new I-Phone that is.        

 

 

                                                                                

She’s smarter than she looks.

 

"I'm a real go getter!"

 

          On July 3rd Sarah Palin stepped down as Governor of Alaska and handed over the remainder of her term to Lieutenant Governor  Sean Parnell. Now the question is, what made her come to this decision? Perhaps  she resigned because of a possible FBI investigation regarding $51,000 of tax payer funds that were used to remodel her Anchorage office and spruce up her mansion in Juneau. Or it may very well be  an attempt to quell another firestorm of personal attacks from various entertainers that her family endure frequently. However, most media experts believe this decision is due to the fact that she plans on using this time off to focus her efforts on campaigning for President in 2012.

God help us all if that predication comes to light. Though, whatever her reasoning for resignation, you’ve got to admit that this absent – minded, dont cha know, gun wielding, Alaskan cheerleader who fooled many americans into believing that she is a intellectually capable politician, has only benefited, mainly monetarily, from the publicity surrounding her existence. 

According to an article in Time, Palin is beginning to hone  her celebrity status and use it to her advantage. Despite her inability to think on her toes ( I.E:. The Katie Couric interviews), when this “lipsticked pig” is prepared, she easily rouses an audience like chickens in a barnyard, ( I.E. : Her GOP acceptance speech). Palin could  earn as much as $100,000 per prepared speech in the lecture circuit. Knock out a couple of those seminars a week, and she can pay off her $5o0,000 in legal bills lickity split.

Sarah is also attempting to perfect her writing voice. A  book is in the works which will most likely depict her personal experiences as the first woman Vice Presidential Candidate  and her reactions to the criticisms spewed at her from political pundits, entertainers and bloggers (cough…)  the like, during and after the campaign trail. My hope is that it will be slightly  more coherent and thought provoking than the illterate Kayne West’s ” Thank You and You’re Welcome”. I mean it should be.  From my understanding she is well read and attains most of her knowledge of pop culture and world events from a “vast variety of sources.”

And believe it or not,  it is rumored that a talk show hosted by the former beauty queen, will air some time in the near future. I am biting my nails in eager anticipation for a half hour or, (cross your fingers), hour long televised premiere of the mind numbing politico ramblings of a beauty school dropout. Palin will  need  to lure an audience of likewise  middle-aged stay at home milfs who yearn for a doctored intellect akin to her’s. Looks like  she’ll be appropriating most of Tyra’s demographic.  She may even resort to modeling a two piece bathing bathing suit and use it to bring about soci0-political change while exclaiming to the live audience: ” See you can still be in your 4o’s and look good in a two piece!”

There is  no in between when it comes to the popular opinion of this “Paris Hilton-esque” political figure.  No general consensus. As the saying goes, you either love her or love to hate her. Though despite my unfavorable take on  Palin, I truly admire her gumption, tenacity, and her ability to manipulate the mass media, the political machine and the American people. She captivated our attention and transformed it into a fantastical cash cow which she’ll continue to milk  for all it’s worth until the cock crows twice. Or, until she’s elected President.

Tease.

So, I have work at 5pm today, however it feels like a day off because I woke up late and indulged in a “sit down” breakfast with my buds. Sigh. And for some odd reason I am extremely drowsy, it’s insane.

I wish I had a thought provoking topic to discuss with the public, but alas I don’t. Unless you consider the following topic engaging.

What the fuck is up with Sunday drivers? Do people just give up on this day of rest? You shouldn’t be resting while operating a motor vehicle. It shouldn’t be one’s goal to aggravate your fellow drivers with abrupt stops and misleading turn signals.

And speaking of road rage, I have to have the worst road rage ever. One minute I can be on top of the world and basking in the glory that is being me and the next minute I’m threatening a 65 year old woman with a tire iron because she failed to speed up at a yellow light. 

All I’m saying is if you aren’t up for driving on a Sunday, just stay home or I’ll break your legs.

Meh, I got nuthn.

Joey C.

“All The Joe Cappelli’s, all the Joe Cappelli’s, put your hands up”

See, at first I thought I would post actual pictures of me conquering Break Neck Ridge in this post. But those of you who are my Facebook buds have most certaintly viewed the pictorial of me conquering the ridge. Plus I Googled “man on a mountain” and this was one of the first pictures that came up, and I thought it was too fantastically corny and slightly comical not to upload.

So with that being said, this past Monday, some friends and I ventured off to go for a “hike”. This was my one day off, and I previously worked three doubles in a row (Fri,Sat, Sun). Needless to say it was out of the ordinary for me to wake up at the wee hours of 8am on my day off. But let’s get passed that.

This “hike”, was not so much a “hike”, but more of “rock climbing”, “mountain climbing”, “Stallone Shit”, expedition. I may be slightly exaggerating. However, according to a reliable online reference (Wikipedia…cough). The elevation of Breakneck is 1,260 feet. How bout it? Your boy Cappelli braced  and defeated 1,260 feet of tumultuous stone  full of pit falls, death defying leaps and icky bugs.

Granted, this was my first “hike”. I pictured a hike as something hash smoking, free lovin, Prius driving, land lovin, hippies do. And what I can say about that is I was only 25% correct. Indeed most of these characteristics may be true about the average hiker, you also have to be somewhat strong and in no way afraid of heights. Because my friend, until you climbed up the back of mother natures most unforgiving brethren, you can not call yourself a true being of light.

Fuck, I may have went a bit off course there.

Was my experience life changing? Only slightly.

Was I cranky on the ride back home? Exceptionally.

Am I ending this post abruptly because I am half asleep?….Yepp.

 

So until next time, keep your friends close and your sarcasm…closer….damn that was lame.

 

Joey C.  

P.S.: On a completely unrelated note: Despite the tragic event of MJ’s death, I really don’t buy his “daughter’s” breakdown at the end of the video when she embraces Janet. Come on that’s worse than Michael’s acting in Moonwalker. I tell you one thing though, she has the mulatto thing down pat…no good?

                                                

Exercise

I tend to make it a bad habit of creating a blog and barely ever updating it. Case in point.  My last post was well over 2-3 weeks ago. One can only move on at this point.

Today consisted of running 4 miles and lifting for 1 hour. Plus I have work tonight at 5 O Clock.  

When it came to serving (waitering), in the past  I saw it as a throw away job. It was a job I could just go to, try to be as personable as possible, give decent service, make quick cash and go home. Now that’s all changed. Ever since I started working at The Terrace Club I have a new found respect for my “means to an end profession”.  I figure I should just make the best out of a situation and be the best server possible. It will only serve to benefit my future. And I have to constantly remind myself that this is all temporary and I will only be doing this for a couple of more years until I make a living out of Acting/Writing.

Yes, that same old song yet again. The past 9 months of my life have been the lowest of the low and two months ago I made it through an extremely turbulent time , like airliner  nosediving into The Andes turbulent.  

It’s no excuse though, I made my bed and had to sleep in it? I’m not too familiar with that phrase.

Needless to say I have come an extremely long way, especially this past month.

So no more life changing philosophies, no more falling back into bad habits, just no more.

I’ll I can do is work my ass off, move out of here in 6 months and try my hardest at making a living through my passions.

I’m not going to make anymore promises to myself. I’m just going to keep my fucking mouth shut and put my nose to the grindstone, the peddle to the metal….Indeed.

 

Joey C.