ChristopherMoloney.com

CaNadiaN: Will The Real Radiohead Please "Sit Still"

2011-12-30T06:02:00.000-08:00

CaNadiaN: Kim Jong Il - A Look Back

2011-12-28T06:03:00.000-08:00

CaNadiaN: Ranting Riley

2011-12-27T06:01:00.000-08:00

CaNadiaN: Top Song of 2011

2011-12-27T06:00:00.000-08:00

CaNadiaN: All Riley-d Up

2011-12-26T05:58:00.000-08:00

CaNadiaN: Callin' Oates

2011-12-21T03:58:00.000-08:00

CaNadiaN: Santa Gets Booted

2011-12-10T06:44:00.001-08:00

CaNadiaN: Funny or Die

2011-12-10T06:43:00.001-08:00

CaNadiaN: Dubai Hockey

2011-11-24T03:00:00.000-08:00

CaNadiaN: Sidewalks

2011-11-22T18:50:00.001-08:00

CaNadiaN: Pakistan Text Ban

2011-11-21T17:45:00.000-08:00

CaNadiaN: Balls

2011-11-18T12:23:00.000-08:00

CaNadiaN: Barack & Bieber

2011-11-17T09:13:00.000-08:00

CaNadiaN: Open Mic Gaffes

2011-11-09T13:12:00.000-08:00

CaNadiaN: Political Punchlines

2011-10-27T13:07:00.000-07:00

CaNadiaN: Bunga Bunga Parties

2011-10-26T13:40:00.000-07:00

CaNadiaN: Barack Obaby

2011-10-24T13:45:00.000-07:00

CaNadiaN: Rap Music

2011-10-22T13:05:00.000-07:00

CaNadiaN: Stinkbugs

2011-10-14T13:03:00.000-07:00

CaNadiaN: Herman Cain's 'Stache #2

2011-10-13T13:00:00.000-07:00

CaNadiaN: Herman Cain's 'Stache

2011-10-10T09:17:00.000-07:00

CaNadiaN: Berlusconi's Party

2011-10-07T09:10:00.000-07:00

CaNadiaN: Putin's Fake Jugs

2011-10-06T08:59:00.000-07:00

Will Hurricane Irene Hit Your "Friends" and "Family"?

2011-08-27T03:48:00.001-07:00

How Hurricane Irene will affect your favourite New York-based TV show characters.

NOTE: DanMeth.com, the site I stole the TV map from, thinks the show is called "Sex In The City."

The CNN Overly Aggressive Comment Of The Day

2011-08-23T08:36:00.000-07:00

The Princess Predictor

2011-03-23T21:04:00.000-07:00

The Royal Wedding is rapidly approaching and it’s probably time to start thinking about what kind of princess Kate Middleton will be. The people’s princess like William’s mother Diana, or a hot mess like Fergie?

No one knows for sure.

To try and clear up the issue, I’ve turned to "What Disney Princess Are You?," a quiz found on Facebook.

What color hair do you have?
Brown. A few news outlets have been calling her a blonde. But she ain’t.

Where do you live?
A castle/palace. Technically she lives in a million-dollar apartment her parents bought her but it’s definitely no hut (one of the other choices). It’s also, I believe, above water.

Quality you find charming in Prince Charming.
He keeps me up all night. It was a toss-up between that and “He picks up after me.” But let’s be honest, Wills has people for that.

Pimp this ride!
Swim. Kate is apparently allergic to horses so the pumpkin carriage is out and the message boards seem to indicate she likes water sports. Ahem. If I knew for sure the car driving her to the church was a Jaguar I might have gone with tiger.

Living arrangements.
My fairy godmother. As far as I know she lives alone. But there has got to be a 24-hour staff making all of her soon-to-be-princess dreams come true. Also, based on photos I’ve seen, none of the dudes she hangs out with are short.

Favorite color?
Blue. Though some people on the message boards seem to think she likes “every colour.” Turns out people on message boards are almost as stupid as people who take the time to do these Facebook quizzes.

Pets?
A crab a fish and a seagull. I’m not sure if she has any pets. But the queen seems kind of crabby and the idea of the monarchy is a little fishy. I guess we’ll sea.

Result:
Kate Middleton is Belle.

According to the quiz, she is bookish but incredibly pretty. I guess that and the see-through dress are what attracted that beast Wills to her. Does that make Harry Jerry Orbach or Angela Lansbury?

The Age of Aquarium

2011-03-23T20:22:00.000-07:00

Much has been written about the see-through dress modeled by future princess Kate Middleton at a 2002 student fashion show.

The dress, credited with catching the eye of Prince William, sold for $125,000 at an auction in London on Thursday.

A footnote to the story is that Charlotte Todd, the student who designed the dress, has left fashion and currently works at an aquarium.

On the surface, it would seem strange that a student who showed such promise in fashion would give it up to “go fishing,” until you take a closer look at her most famous creation, and realize it shares more than a passing similarity to the mesh filter bags used on many aquariums.

Furthermore, it appears what was to be a one-off piece of aquarium design has had a ripple effect on fashion.

Already this year there has been an emergence of fish scale tights, amphibian-themed shoes, and mermaid-inspired wedding dresses.

And in January, Moschino turned the windows of their Manhattan store into an authentic-looking giant aquarium complete with fish, bubbles and white sand.

Still not convinced? Check out this underwater fashion show staged by Korean Designer Park Sul-Nyeo in August:

Fashion has already helped reel in one royal husband. Can a New York Fishion Week be far behind?

1986 Jokes

2011-03-23T06:03:00.000-07:00

I kept journals as a kid. My parents didn't throw them out. These are three jokes I wrote in 1986 at age 9.

What vegetable does Batman wear?
Cowl-iflower

How do you know if an astronaut is dead?
 Check the orbituaries.

Knock knock.
Who’s there?
The name of the man on first.
Who?
I think I’m in the wrong joke.

One Or Many Stevens

2011-03-22T20:03:00.000-07:00

On the way home a guy I don’t know said “hello” to me.

That’s not unusual.

It happens to me a lot.

I’ve been told I look like one or many Stevens.

What was strange is that this guy looked just like my friend Matt Faulknor, only about 5 years older and almost 100 pounds heavier.

In fact, he looked so much like Matt that for a second I thought it was him, until I remembered I had seen Matt just a few weeks ago looking both young and fit.

I considered ignoring this stranger’s hello but then thought better of it, and said hello back, on the off chance that in the next five years Matt discovers cookies and time travel.

Jack Ruby & The Beanstalk

2011-03-22T12:05:00.000-07:00

Despite the best efforts of Greg Kinnear and Canada's History Channel very few grade school students know anything about U.S. history. Therefore, I propose we launch a series of animated specials focusing on important moments in America's past. First up...

ASSASSIMATION: Jack Ruby & The Beanstalk

There once was a boy named Jack with questionable ties to the mafia. He lived with four strippers, a master of ceremonies, an assistant manager, a band, three or four waitresses, and a porter and their most valuable possession was their nightclub. But the day came when the club stopped attracting customers and Jack’s investors said it must be sold.

“Put it on the market,” they told Jack. “And mind you get a good price for it.”

So Jack took the deed to the club and set out to put it on the market. He hadn’t gone far when he met an Italian (or maybe Cuban) man who said to him: “Good morning, Jack.”

“Good morning to you,” said Jack, wondering how the man knew his name.

“Where are you off to, Jack?” the man asked.

“I’m going to put my club on the market.”

“Don’t do that,” said the man. “Sell your club to me. I will give you better than fair market value. “Look here. What are these? These are bullets. Listen to what I'm going to tell you now: These are magic bullets. Fire these bullets and overnight you’ll find we have the finest country in the world. You’ll be much better off with these bullets than any club or money. Now, how many is three?”

“One misses the motorcade, one strikes the president and Governor Connally and one is the killshot,” replied Jack.

“Right you are, here are three bullets,” said the man and he handed the bullets to Jack and took the deed to the club.

When he reached home, the investors said, “Back so soon, Jack? Did you get a good price for the club?”

Jack told them how he had traded the club for three bullets but before he could finish the story, the investors started to shout. “You idiot,” they screamed. “How could you hand over our club for three measly bullets?!?”

They flung the bullets out the window and sent Jack to bed before the club’s late show.

When Jack awoke the next morning there was a strange noise outside his room. All he could see from the window was a big crowd of people. It went on longer than he could see. Quickly Jack go dressed and went to investigate.

“The Italian (or possibly Cuban) man said the country would change overnight,” he thought. “They must indeed have been very magic bullets.”

Further and further Jack walked until at last he reached the end of the crowd and found himself in front of a strange building. He entered the building and walked down a number of steps until he came to a dark basement and another crowd of people. Just as he was about to ask what all the excitement was, he nearly tripped over the feet of a policeman.

“Here boy,” he called. “What are you doing? Don’t you know there’s a killer coming? It’s lucky he’s already used his three magic bullets or he might’ve killed you.”

“Oh, no!” Jack cried. “He must’ve found my three magic bullets. Now I don’t have my club or the magic bullets! My investors will be so angry. Please, you must hide me.”

Now the police officer had a kind heart and was corrupt, so he hid Jack amongst the reporters and gawkers that had assembled to catch a glimpse of the monster. Jack watched the crowd and then he heard a reporter say, “I hear the mob has offered to pay handsomely to anyone who kills Oswald.”

“I must kill the monster if I can,” thought Jack. “It’s the only way to keep my investors from breaking my legs... or worse.” He was still planning when the ground began to shake and the crowd surged forward and a loud voice boomed, “Here he comes.”

Jack raced towards the front of the crowd and saw the monster in front of him. Jack seized a gun and pulled the trigger with all his might. Boom!

The monster shook and shuddered and collapsed, dead at their feet. Jack’s debts were forgiven and they all lived happily ever after until Jack died of lung cancer in prison a few years later.

Pushing My Buttons

2011-03-22T11:04:00.000-07:00

For whatever reason I've spent a lot of time in my building's elevator this week. I've noticed that everyone seems to push the button with something different. Here are their stories...

Walking The Walk

2010-12-18T06:34:00.000-08:00

Sometime between his 4th or 5th pint and the other team’s 4th or 5th goal the man shakes his head and says, “This has got to stop.”

It’s unclear if he’s referring to the drinking, the game or the six hours he’s spent in the pub but that doesn’t keep the woman at the next table, a stranger, from patting him on the arm and saying, “I know what you need.”

This type of unsolicited advice is more common than ever, particularly during the holiday season, and even though the man ignores the woman’s list of books, tapes and books on tape that she “just knows” will help him, her wide-eyed enthusiasm and ever-increasing volume make it clear she’s pitching one of two things:

Religion or Self-help.

Both are big business and despite the fact that each group vehemently denies they are the other, there are similarities: Alcoholics Anonymous discusses a higher power in its 12 steps, churches regularly tell you to look for God within, and Oprah dwarfs them both.

Take a moment to consider the last piece of advice you received from a friend, family member, or stranger in a bar and chances are it falls into one of these two categories because, really, they cover everything.

Religion includes every possible faith and denomination and even the staunchest atheist will admit they have a cursory knowledge of their neighbors’ beliefs. Self-help touches on similar territory, figuratively (recovery) and literally (real estate).

Both groups stress the importance of walking the walk, but walk on what exactly?

Walking on water has come to refer to accomplishing something amazing or miraculous and while examples of it appear in the texts of different faiths, the account of Jesus’ sodden stroll is the one that we remember. His disciples were afraid and then amazed and their lives were never the same.

Fast-forward a couple thousand years and you find another charismatic teacher standing on the shore, urging his followers to change their ways. This time it’s Tony Robbins walking on fire in Hawaii. It too has been done before but it also astounds and inspires the frightened masses.

Is one walk greater than the other? Is overcoming depth more or less miraculous than overcoming temperature?

Who knows. That would require rounds of scientific testing, the likes of which both religion and self-help do their best to avoid.

* * *

Back in the pub the woman finishes describing the features and benefits of what she’s selling to the man. She runs through her pros and his cons in an efficient and orderly manner.

But the man isn’t buying it. He buys soup instead.

The deepest bowl of piping hot French Onion soup this or any bar has ever made. It’s familiar and comforting and if anyone walks across the surface of it, we’ll follow them anywhere.

A machine gun and the greatest Christmas movie ever. Ho Ho Ho.

2010-12-17T09:37:00.000-08:00

After a movie marathon that includes titles like “The Holiday,” “While You Were Sleeping,” “Four Christmases” and “Love, Actually” you’re probably asking yourself, “When did Christmas become a holiday for chicks?” and “How do I forget I saw Hugh Grant dancing?”

There’s alcohol, of course, with all kinds of winter ales available for just such an emergency, but try not to drink so much that you forget there are also some solid Christmas movie choices for guys.

Truth be told, most men already have a favorite Christmas film and will rave about their choice with or without the help of those holiday beers. But really, only one movie combines the scruffy slapstick of “Bad Santa” and “Trapped in Paradise,” the memorable catchphrases of “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” and “Scrooged” and the go-for-broke gunplay of “The Ref” and “The Ice Harvest.”

That film is “Die Hard.”

On the surface it’s an unusual choice for greatest Christmas movie ever made. It takes place almost exclusively in an L.A. skyscraper so there’s no snow, the only Christmas Carol featured is Run DMC’s “Christmas In Hollis” and every inch of gift wrap is used to conceal a gun between Bruce Willis’ shoulder blades. Some people have even suggested that “Die Hard 2: Die Harder” might be a better choice.

Those people are wrong.

Because if you dig a little deeper you realize that most of your Christmas references are based on that first “Die Hard” movie. Think about it, when you borrow your buddy’s boots to shovel the walk you say he has feet smaller than your sister, while reading ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas to your nieces you can’t help throwing in “four a-holes coming in the rear in standard two-by-two cover formation” and there’s no way you haven’t drunkenly told the Christmas turkey you’re gonna f-in' cook it, and f-in’ eat it.

Still not convinced it’s the ultimate Christmas classic? Consider this:

As the film is drawing to a close and Reginald VelJohnson’s cop (the Tiny Tim in this modern-day “A Christmas Carol”) shakes off his psychological limp, draws his gun and fires a round into Alexander Godunov’s Karl, saving our hero and Christmas in the process, there’s only one thing to say, the phrase that best sums up the holidays and the words that Dickens would have written himself if he had only used a gun instead of a fountain pen:

Yippee-ki-yay us, everyone.

James Moloney Observes Keeping Up With The Kardashians

2010-12-14T14:18:00.000-08:00

My father happened upon Keeping Up With The Kardashians for the first time ever. I was lucky enough to be in the next room to hear his reactions.

"Oh my god. No!"

"Bruce Jenner is nuts."

"Stop this!"

"Why?"

"Bruce Jenner's homophobic?"

"And he goes to buy his clothes at Dash... Of course..."

"Their stores are next to one another?"

"And I'm bored."

"WHO'S KENDRA?!?" [Me: "One of Hef's girls, I think."] "Oh. Why not."

"Okay, that's enough of that. Is Big Bang Theory on?"

Common Scapegoats

2010-12-07T11:16:00.000-08:00

Bathroom Stall Guide

2010-10-14T13:24:00.000-07:00

Fashion Report

2010-10-12T16:03:00.000-07:00

Tweet Of The Week

2010-10-01T10:09:00.000-07:00

I am rarely published in newspapers but one of my tweets was included in The Eyeopener (volume 44/issue 4).

I own a scanner but I am so lazy that I waited until one of the other Tweeters Of The Week posted a photo of the page on Twitter and then stole it for my own site.

I assume my laziness is the reason I'm not published in newspapers more.

One Gun Added

2010-09-29T17:32:00.000-07:00

With the recent talk of school shootings and firearm registries I have been thinking a lot about guns. Even though I have not discussed the issue at great length with any of the anti-gun lobbyists (or actual gun owners, for that matter), I believe I have figured out the perfect gun control plan:

One gun.

I know, I know. But stay with me.

The government offers a single gun to the public, to be rented on a weekly basis. And for that week the renter is entirely responsible for the proprietorship and up-keep of ‘the weapon.’ Any legitimate activities or crimes committed during the week will be entirely the responsibility of the renter, with all damages paid by them. Think of it as a timeshare. But instead of a condo in Aspen, you get one week with an automatic weapon.

And this won’t be just any old gun. I’m talking about a real kick-ass hand cannon. I know next to nothing about guns, but I figure we could assemble a team of the world’s top firearm enthusiasts to decide which scopes and mounts and cartridges should be used. Not even a tank will be able to stop this thing.

I’m sure a few of you are thinking, ‘This is way too good to be true.’ But I should warn you it’s not going to come cheap. The gun industry is a $2 billion per year business, and suddenly switching to producing one gun, from millions of guns, could financially-cripple the men and women who make their living producing weapons. The only solution I can see is to charge $40 million per week to rent the gun.

I realize it’s not entirely fair the gun would only be available to the richest of the rich. And normally, I would agree and try to figure out the best way to create subsidies and scholarships the government could offer to help everyone afford gun time. But fortunately, I realized, gun owners tend to be small-l libertarians and conservatives who are philosophically opposed to any and all government handouts, and would instead embrace the free market plan I have created. Because if they didn’t they’d be total hypocrites.

I discussed the idea with an American gun-owning friend of mine. She had some reservations:

“That idea might fly in Canada,” she said. “But we have something called The Second Amendment…The Right to Bear Arms.
And in case you didn’t notice ‘arms’ is plural.”

I can't argue with that logic. But I’m not deterred. And so I’ve come up with a slightly revised plan:

Two guns.

Fighting For $$$

2010-09-27T06:03:00.001-07:00

Me spots a street youth with a sign that reads: WILL FIGHT YOU FOR $$$.

Me
(points to sign)
Do a lot of people take you up on that?

Youth
A few.

Me
(sizes up the guy for a minute)
Okay, dude, let’s do it.

Youth 
Fight?

Me
Yeah. You’re younger and got a few inches on me but I think I can beat you. How much money are we fighting for?

Youth
Uh, well, $5?

Me
Hmmm... I don’t know, there are only 3 dollar signs on your sign.

Youth
Um... Well...

Me
It’s okay, I’m feeling pretty confident. How do we start? Is there a starting position like in collegiate wrestling or do we just start wailing on each other?

Youth
Um... You have to give me the money first.

Me
What? No way. You’ll have to beat me before you get my money.

Youth
That’s not how it works. You give me the $5 and then I fight you.

Me
What kind of a contest is that?

Youth
It’s not a contest, it’s like, uh, a service.

Me
WHAT?!? I’m paying to fight with you?

Youth
Yeah.

Me
Why would I do that? Are you some sort of master at combat?

Youth
No.

Me
Then why would I pay you for a fight? I could fight most of the people on this street for free. I could even just start hitting you for free.

Youth
Yeah, but, if you don’t pay me, I won’t fight back.

Me
It’ll still be a fight though. Just a quick one.

Youth
No it won’t, it’ll be more like, um, a beating.

Me
A beating is a fight. It just means one guy was that much better. Besides, if I started punching you, you’d defend yourself.

Youth
Not if I didn’t get the money first.

Me
So, you’d just stand there and let me punch you over and over again on principle... for free?

Youth
Yes.

Me
Well, if I can punch you for free why would I ever pay you for it?

Youth
You’re paying for me to punch you back.

Me
Why would I pay for that?

Youth
Because then it would be, like, more of a challenge.

Me
I should pay you to make something more difficult for me? That doesn’t make any sense. People pay for things to be easier not harder.

Youth
Okay, $3.

Engineering

2010-09-03T10:44:00.000-07:00

Eaton Centre. Large group of students dressed in coveralls and hard hats milling around.

Student
Do you have a minute for cystic fibrosis?

Me
(glancing at non-existent watch)
Yes. Go.

Student
You’re not wearing a watch.

Me
56 seconds...

Student
We’re Ryerson engineering students and we’re helping to raise money for cystic fibrosis. For $2 I’ll let you throw a water balloon in my face.

Me
You’re engineering students and all you came up with was balloons and a sign?

Student
What do you mean?

Me
Aren’t you guys supposed to be building bridges and stuff?

Student
We’re electrical engineers.

Me
Okay, but you’re not using any electricity either.

Student
Electricity doesn’t mix well with water balloons.

Me
Yes, but why use water bal... Never mind... Do I have to use your balloon?

Student
Well, uh, do you have your own water balloon?

Me
No. But I think I could get one if I really had to.

Student
We have plenty here.

Me
Yes, but is the cost of the balloon covered by the two dollars.

Student
Uh, yeah, it’s all covered.

Me
There are no hidden costs in this.

Student
No, it’s a charity thing.

Me
Yeah, but I don’t want you suddenly charging some sort of latex thing.

Student
It’s just $2!

Me
Okay. Fine. What do I do?

Student
Here’s a balloon. Throw it in my face.

Me
I think I’m going to need more direction than that.

Student
Dude, it’s simple, just throw the balloon at my face.

Me
I’m just concerned that I might...

Student
We have a line forming!

Me
Okay, okay.

Me rears back and throws the balloon at Student. The balloon explodes soaking the guy.

Student
FUCK!

Me
What?

Student
(blood streaming down his face)
Shit! I think you broke my nose. What’s wrong with you?

Me
You told me to throw a water balloon in your face. We were curing cystic fibrosis.

Student
I said, “Throw it.”

Me
I did!

Student
You don’t follow-through!

Me
I didn’t know.

Student
You basically just punched me in the face.

Me
I thought that’s how you do it. You gave me no instructions. I asked for instructions.

Student
You shouldn’t need instructions for throwing a water balloon. What were you thinking?

Me
I thought I had to hit you in the face with it. Like a pie or a boxing glove.

Student
It doesn’t work that way, you fucking asshole.

Me
Well, you’re the engineering student, you would know.

Student
Just give me the $2 and get the fuck out of here.

Me
(looking for two bucks)
You know, a business student would have asked for this upfront.

The 1-Second Drunk

2010-06-01T21:56:00.000-07:00

Drawing God - Then And Now

2010-05-05T15:20:00.000-07:00

1990: A Kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing. She would occasionally walk around to see each child's work. As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was. The girl replied, "I'm drawing God."

The teacher paused and said, "But no one knows what God looks like."

Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing, the girl replied, "They will in a minute."

2010: A Kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing. She would occasionally walk around to see each child's work. As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was. The girl replied, "I'm drawing God."

The teacher paused and said, "Which god?"

The Sensitive or Sleazy Meter

2010-05-03T10:37:00.000-07:00

A Viewer's Guide To TV Commercials

2010-05-03T08:31:00.000-07:00

Drunk Girl #2

2010-04-14T20:06:00.000-07:00

Drunk Girl #1

2010-04-14T19:05:00.000-07:00

From The Desk Of Jason Kenney

2010-03-03T09:09:00.000-08:00

My Neighbours

2010-02-02T07:34:00.000-08:00

Video problems? CLICK HERE to watch it on YouTube.

Sooey-Plex

2010-01-30T16:25:00.000-08:00

Big Twubble In Little Haiti (4 Days Of Tweets)

2010-01-26T12:27:00.000-08:00

When discussing Haiti, most of the "experts" agreed that despite a drifting attention span, our thoughts would be with the impoverished island for weeks, if not months to come.

As a test, I noted the first person I saw update about Haiti and tracked their next few posts, over the next few days. Their name has been changed.

Jennifer Monroe feels like heading to Haiti to lend a hand. Heartwrenching devastation.

Jennifer Monroe Made a donation. Still feel helpless.

Jennifer Monroe Enjoying her weekend.

Jennifer Monroe has a shiny new laptop.

Jennifer Monroe can't wait for our excellent around-the-world adventure!

Is this a plea for help or a Price Is Right Showcase?

Visit www.clintonfoundation.org/haitiearthquake to donate now.

New York Save Conan Rally Field Piece

2010-01-08T09:03:00.000-08:00

SeniorVille

2009-12-01T22:10:00.000-08:00

Y'all Come Back Now

2009-11-24T08:33:00.000-08:00

Early on in my trip, I overheard a woman tell a friend:

“That’s where little kids go to be Jedi.”

It’s a completely normal sentence but because she said it with a southern accent, somehow it seemed like she believed those kids were actually going to be Jedi.

People from the South are not any less intelligent than people from other parts of the country, but somehow we’ve all been conditioned to believe they are.

That said, here are the most entertaining things I overheard people with Southern accents say at Disney World:

“Shit, Manny. It’s Stitch!”

"How she gonna sing underwater without gills?"

“He don’t personalize it or nothing?” – Man, right after his son got Donald Duck’s autograph

“If I were here, I’d sure as hell look.”

“Heck, I’ll scare you worse than that.” – Man, to his crying son, outside of Tower of Terror

“Ain’t no giant pumpkin gonna put food on my table.”

“Sometimes it IS the time and place to get angry.” – Man, outside Winnie The Pooh ride

“Jeremy… Jeremy… Jeremy… That boy's name Jeremy?” – Man, calling his son

“Now we don’t gotta go to the real France.” - Woman standing in Germany pavilion.

“I’m a try and get Snow White to say Roll Tide.”

Christopher Moloney Makes Friends (pt. 3)

2009-11-13T08:48:00.000-08:00

I didn't hear from "Sara" at all yesterday and I was concerned I had done something to offend her. Fortunately, when the little chat box lit up today, I got the chance to win her back.

Sara
hi
10:30am

Christopher
hey i was hoping to hear from you again
do you have a relationship with Jesus Christ?
10:34am

Sara is offline.

Tigga, Please

2009-11-12T22:06:00.000-08:00

Christopher Moloney Makes Friends (pt. 2)

2009-11-12T08:47:00.000-08:00

My new friend "Sara" contacted me again today. Should I be offended she didn't remember me?

Sara
hi
10:32am

Christopher
hi
10:33am

Sara
wat's up
10:33am

Christopher
Not much - What's up with you?
10:37am

Sara
nothing...
where u from?
10:37am

Christopher
Originally - Las Vegas
you?
10:38am

Sara
really but where u now?
10:38am

Christopher
Los Angeles
You?
10:40am

Sara
really cool where u on LA
10:40am

Christopher
Hollywood
Where are you?
10:43am

Sara
really nice...
what u d o?
10:44am

Christopher
I work for my mother - she runs a porn studio
10:46am

Sara
what u mean porn studio?
10:47am

Christopher
It's a place where we shoot porno movies
I find the girls
11:02am

Sara is offline.

Christopher Moloney Makes Friends (pt. 1)

2009-11-11T08:45:00.000-08:00

I add anyone who friends me on Facebook. When you do that, statistically speaking, you end up with a few less-honest apples in the bunch. Here is a recent Facebook chat exchange between me and one of my new pals. [FYI: Her name has been changed.]

Sara
hi
10:38am

Sara
hi there
10:38am

Christopher
hey
10:39am

Sara
you there...ok
busy?
10:40am

Christopher
not super-busy
10:40am

Sara
lol
hat you do?
10:41am

Sara
what u do i mean
10:42am

Christopher
ha - not much of anything
what about you?
10:49am

Sara
same here...some kinda bored..
what you do for living?
10:50am

Christopher
Racecar driver - you?
10:50am

Sara
really wow...
porn model..
what car u use?
10:52am

Christopher
The Sido [FYI: Sido is a restaurant near me. I was flipping through menus.]
10:52am

Sara
cool...
where u from?
10:53am

Christopher
Originally - nigeria
You?
11:02am

Sara
where u you now?
11:02am

Christopher
Madison, Wisconsin
11:04am

Sara
ohh... ok
how old are you...
11:04am

Christopher
14
You?
11:05am

Sara
how old are you again?
11:06am

Christopher
14
you?
11:06am

Sara
23
11:06am

Christopher
cool
11:07am

Sara
what u looking for here?
11:07am

Christopher
My father runs scams - I collect information for him so we can take advantage of people
you?
11:08am

Sara
what u mean?
11:09am

Christopher
I find out information about people on Facebook (where they live, what they do for a living) and sell the information to my father
Then he uses the info about people to cheat them out of money
11:10am

Sara
so you mean your father is like a scammer?
11:10am

Christopher
Yep
I hope to take over the business when I'm older
But right now I'm focused on my racing
11:14am

Sara is offline.

UPDATE: Apparently Sara missed me. Because she contacted me again an hour later.

Sara
how you doing..
12:13pm

Christopher
Good - you?
12:15pm

Sara
good
what ur goind?
12:16pm

Christopher
what?
12:32pm

Sara
do u have yahoo?
12:33pm

Christopher
No. I have AOL tho.
12:34pm

Sara
hmm ok
12:35pm

Christopher
It's tough to add me tho because my profile is protected. If you send me your social security # and checking acct #, I can hook it up.
12:37pm

Sara
lol
12:37pm

Christopher
Why are you laughing?

Sara is offline.

unSweetined by Jodie Sweetin (Chapter Twelve)

2009-11-04T08:39:00.000-08:00

An excerpt from the new book unSweetined by Jodie Sweetin:

Chapter Twelve - Coping

Crystal meth isn’t just a habit it’s a way of life. If you’re really serious about it, like I was, it takes up a lot of your time. Buying hydrochloric acid, building a lab, finding a pharmacy that won’t get suspicious when you buy Vicks inhalers in bulk. I get tired just thinking about it. Needless to say, I had a lot of spare time on my hands when I finally quit.

I tried everything to fill my days: working out, gambling, knitting (I was never a fan of needles), charity work and tennis (for my father). But nothing stuck. Until I walked into a bookstore and discovered…

Calendars!!!

Most people think a calendar is something you just pin to the wall and check on once a day, like your baby. But they’re so much more than that. They’re like a mini-escape from life.

And there are calendars about everything!

Say you want to go to Egypt. Buy a calendar about Egypt. You’ll be able to see the Sphinx, the pyramids, a camel and NINE other Egyptian things. And you won’t have to leave the house! Ever!

Wish you had a dog? I know I do. They took mine.

And the best part about it – it’s so easy to get a calendar. You can go to any gift shop or bookstore, right now, and buy a calendar. You won’t need to spread out your purchases over a few days at a pharmacy (How RUDE!!!), insulate your garage or explain anything to the police. Just go to the store and buy a calendar. NOW!

Jodie’s 2010 Calendar Wishlist (in no particular order):

365 Puppies a Year

Just Dachsund Puppies

Just Boxer Puppies

Boston Terrier Puppies

Chocolate Lab Puppies

Puppies Checkbook

Just Shih Tzu Puppies

Just Sheltie Puppies

Puppies & Friends

Puppies (12-month)

Puppies (16-month)

Jack Russell Puppies

Just Jack Russell Puppies

Just German Shepherd Puppies

Just Basset Hound Puppies

Just Golden Puppies

Just Lab Puppies – One Breed, Three Colors, Countless Personalities

Just Black Lab Puppies

Rottweiler Puppies

Yorkie Puppies

Just Yorkie Puppies

What We Can Learn From Puppies

What Puppies Teach Us

Just Chihuahua Puppies

Pug Puppies

Just Pug Puppies

Puggies – Pug Puppies

Just Pugs

Just Bernese Mountain Dogs

Bernese Mountain Dogs

Reservoir Dogs

Rachael Hale Dogs

Cow Dogs

Doxie Moxie – Little Dog Big Attitude

The Best of Zelda Wisdom (Note: Zelda is a bulldog)

Why Dogs Do That

365 Dogs

Dog Gallery

The New Yorker Dogs

Blue Dog: The Art of George Rodrigue

Just Kittens & Puppies

Cat Naps

What a Bunch of Chickens

Jeanne Carley’s Ferrets

Craisin In Love

2009-11-03T22:03:00.000-08:00

Christopher Moloney Loses Friends

2009-11-03T08:49:00.000-08:00

Apparently someone didn't like my posts about "Sara." And it wasn't "Sara." After I posted the third and final installment of my chats with her today, I received this message from a male Facebook "friend". Fortunately he wasn't insulting as he laid out his problems with me. [FYI: I didn't use his real name.]

Chris,

I don't mean to be insulting, but we truly aren't friends anywhere outside of this forum. Your postings are just more than I have time for and get in the way of those that are more important to me. So, if you don't mind, I'm going to take you off my list.

You might think of putting all the energy you use in Facebook into writing a real book. You'll find it more rewarding.

Mike

Running Dialogue

2009-11-02T23:05:00.000-08:00

Start – I’m standing in my corral with the other runners who the New York Road Runners club feels are at or about my level. I quickly find out their estimation is way off. Everyone is smarter, fitter and better prepared than me. It’s like university all over again.

Two thoughts:
1) Why is it called a corral for people and a starting gate for horses? Is this anything like the driveway versus parkway thing?
2) How many penises are too many to see before noon? Whatever that number is, I’ve surpassed it today.

Mile 1 – I’m run walking with my corral mates. They are going on and on about what they’ve done to prepare – hill training, speed training, eating healthy foods. I’m slightly concerned.

This is the first time (of many, I’m sure) where I think how much faster this would be in a car.

Mile 2 – Those other runners are idiots. Barney (How I Met Your Mother) was right: “You don’t train for a marathon, you just run it!”

Mile 3 – Waitaminute, didn’t that episode end with Barney on the subway unable to walk? I hope no one finds me incapacitated and takes my iPod because it would be tough to explain most of my play list.

I see a sign that says GO CHRIS! I pretend it's intended for me.

Mile 4 – I stop for a drink for the first time. It’s not water. It’s Gatorade. Lemon lime. I spent a summer working in a shingle factory in my hometown when I was in high school and one of my responsibilities there was filling every water cooler with Lemon Lime Gatorade. I drank about 1000 cups of the stuff that summer. When I take my first sip now, I smell tar.

Mile 5 – The second comedy bit by Todd Barry comes up on my iPod. His material isn’t really marathon appropriate (i.e. no pounding bass) but he’s funny and I laugh out loud.

There’s a girl crying while she stretches her hamstring at the curb. I wonder what she’s listening to.

A guy with an artificial leg runs past me. What an inspiration. Time to suck it up. I think of Terry Fox.

Mile 6 – The crowd support in Brooklyn is phenomenal. People of all races, colours, creeds and sexual preferences (I assume) lining the streets, cheering us on.

My iPod is playing “Been Caught Stealing.” I’ve seen 3 or 4 signs that read: “Run like you stole something.” Is the crime rate back up? What about all of the Bloomberg campaign ads I’ve seen? Are they running during the TV broadcast of this marathon?

Other signs along the way:
Do it for the beer!
Pride Is Forever
Think About Sex!
Go Mike!
Go Emily!
Allez Jean-Paul!
Honk If You Love Running (Screw you, Brooklyn hipster!!!)

Mile 7 – A different guy with an artificial leg runs by. I realize how many advances they’ve made in artificial limbs in recent years. Is that a motor? Eff that guy.

Mile 8 – I think it’s Paula Poundstone who has a bit about working at the International House of Pancakes. Her customers thought she was slow. She claimed it was from the maple syrup on the floors.

I’ve run through a bunch of Gatorade stations. I feel Paula’s pain.

Mile 9 – A guy runs by on two artificial legs. Eff that guy, twice.

Mile 10 – A song by Cosmopolis comes up on the iPod. I know a couple of the guys in the band. They live in Brooklyn. If I survive this thing, I should call them and hang out. Brooklyn isn’t that far from Manhattan and I should really take advantage of what it has to offer more.

Mile 11 – Running more than 10 miles goes against everything we are. Running was only used to catch food. Nobody would chase dinner for more than 10 miles. Just wait for the next, slower animal to come along.

Mile 12 – I’m never going to go to Brooklyn again… ever.

Mile 13 – Word just trickled back that the winner crossed the finish line. One of the volunteers clapped and said “Halfway!” I don’t like either of them.

Mile 14 – J.K. Rowling said it best: “That absence of being able to envisage that you will ever be cheerful again. The absence of hope. That very deadened feeling, which is so very different from feeling sad.”

Mile 15 – Four runners from Italy, two guys from Denmark and a girl from Spain stop for photos on the bridge.

A guy runs by me in full Captain America costume, complete with about 15 pounds (?!?) of fake muscles. If I weren’t so tired, I’d hurt him.

Mile 16 - I pass my apartment building. If you lived here and you weren’t running this stupid marathon, you’d be home by now. My family is here to cheer me on. They seem so happy for me. Really puts everything into perspective. I would kill any one of them for something to eat.

Mile 17 – Prior to the race, I read that at a certain point you begin to feel every pothole, crack and bump along the way. That’s not true. It’s so much more personal than that. You feel every extra slice of pizza you’ve eaten, every beer you’ve downed and every Thanksgiving dinner. And remember in high school you liked that girl and even though you didn’t smoke, you’d go outside and stand with her, breathing in every cigarette? You feel that too.

Mile 18 – “Honk If You Love Running.” Heh.

Mile 19 – WHERE THE HELL IS THE BRONX?!?

Mile 20 – THIS IS THE BRONX?!?

Mile 21 – WHY DID WE GO TO THE BRONX?!?

Mile 22 – An old man pushes me out of the way for the 3rd time this marathon. If I’m so slow how do I always end up in front of him? “Dude, you ain’t gonna win, relax.”

More Bill Hicks on the iPod. Is this why I’m so angry?

Mile 23 – Sweat in my eyes. How can my own sweat hurt so much? Has this race turned me into some sort of Milhouse character who’s allergic to his own tears?

There's a sign that reads WE BELIEVE IN YOU, LAURA! What's my name? Am I Laura?

Mile 24 – Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” comes up. I would kill for some of my mother’s spaghetti, right now.

Fuck a beat, I'll go a capella. Fuck a Papa Doc, fuck a clock, fuck a trailer, fuck everybody. Fuck y'all if you doubt me. I'm a piece of fuckin' white trash, I say it proudly. And fuck this battle, I don't want to win, I'm outtie. Here, tell these people something they don't know about me.

Mile 25 – Taking evolution into account, how important are toenails, really?

Mile 26 – The last week at the shingle factory, I had to empty an entire silo of a talc-like byproduct. After five days of shoveling, I couldn’t breathe, my whole body hurt and I was hearing voices. Why am I thinking of that now?

Finish – “Being attractive is the most important thing there is…” – Nada Surf

Christopher Moloney’s NYC Marathon play list:

Note: I didn’t actually make a play list for the run. I just hit shuffle.

“Blonde & Blue” by Headstones
“I Think We’re Lost” by Ron Sexsmith
“Meet Me In The Tower” (Acoustic) by Ours
“Hard To Be A Girl” by Adam Green
“Wonderboy” by Tenacious D
“Life’s Too Short Little Ndugu” by Moneen
“Dandelion Wine” by Ron Sexsmith
“Finale” by Todd Barry
“Alumni” by Todd Barry
“Been Caught Stealing” by Jane’s Addiction
“Noise” by The Diodes
“Can’t Explain” by Love
“Proud” by Tegan & Sara
“As I Wander” by Ours
“Enid” by Barenaked Ladies
“Child Star” by The Diodes
“Chapter 1” by Alan Cross (from The Alan Cross Guide to New Music)
“Let Down” by Bif Naked
“Angels Heap” by The Finn Brothers
“Fake Plastic Trees” by Radiohead
“Starpainters” by Gordon Downie
“Slow Parade” by Cosmopolis
“Fake David Bowie Song” by Liam Lynch
“Oh Come, Angel Band” by Johnny Cash
“Fleet” by Eugene Mirman
“Summer Blowin’ Town” by Ron Sexsmith
“Sometimes” by Ours
“If God Will Send His Angels” (Big Yam Mix) by U2
“Australia” by Bill Hicks
“The Shining” by Badly Drawn Boy
“Teen Wolf, Gay Marriage” by Eugene Mirman
“Come On” by Tegan & Sara
“Carrot Rope” by Pavement
“When I Grow Up” by Garbage
“Vs. The Audience 2” by Bill Hicks
“European Boys” by Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players
“Dirty Day” [Junk Day Remix] by U2
“Girl of Your Dreams” by Bill Hicks
“Mysterious Ways” by U2
“Wilbury Twist” by Traveling Wilburys
“Were You There (When They Crucified My Lord)” by Johnny Cash
“Roth Kung Fu” by The Salads
“All You Got” by Tegan & Sara
“No Surprises” by Radiohead
“The Great Beyond” by R.E.M.
“When He Comes” by Johnny Cash
“Sperm Bank Babies” by Todd Barry”
“Karate” by Tenacious D
“Ring of Fire” by Johnny Cash
“400 Metres” by Sloan
“Trick Rider” by Gordon Downie
“Making Love With You” by Old 97’s
“The Old Account” by Johnny Cash
“For The Driver” by Ron Sexsmith
“Vivid” by Electronic
“The Start To This May Be The End To Another” by Moneen
“The Modern Age” by The Strokes
“Am I Right?” by Erasure
“Girls & Boys” by Blur
“Fake Pixies Song” by Liam Lynch
“Stacked Crooked” by The New Pornographers
“Where Do The Days Go?” by The Flashing Lights
“Dream Baby Dream” by Suicide
“Lose Yourself” by Eminem
“Trees Lounge” by Hayden
“Fiesta” by The Pogues
“Bounce” by Danko Jones
“Getting Old Sucks” by Lewis Black
“Stan Bowles” by The Others
“Have A Nice Day” by Stereophonics
“Hurricane” by Bob Dylan
“Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen
“Broken Leaf” by Tangiers
“Popular” by Nada Surf

Free To Bet!

2009-11-02T22:00:00.000-08:00

This Is It

2009-10-28T08:54:00.000-07:00

Porter? I Hardly Knew Her

2009-08-01T22:51:00.000-07:00

I flew into Toronto on Porter today. It's the first time I've flown this particular airline and the first time I've been at the Island Airport since I appeared as a carbon conscious world traveler for The Gill Deacon Show in early 2007.

I am not a nervous flier but I have seen enough movies and TV shows about airline disasters to know that if you hope to survive you need to be part of a diverse group of travelers. Specifically, if J.J. Abrams and Stephen King are to be believed, your chances of survival go way up if your flight includes, in no particular order: an actress, a former military man or doctor (usually also a pilot), a stressed out businessman, a foreigner, an experienced teen girl, a nerdy teen guy and a bitter writer.

Prior to the flight I do my due diligence and check out my fellow passengers. It’s a small group, 20 people at the most – always a good sign when you’re dealing with potential crash partners – and incredibly diverse: Struggling rock star (complete with guitar), sweaty guy in a suit, loud foreign couple and a girl with hair dyed black and multiple piercings.

We just might make it.

The flight is uneventful. I chat with my seatmate. She has been in New York and is traveling to Toronto only to catch a connecting flight to Montreal. I am at the unfortunate age where I can’t pinpoint the age of other people so she could either be the experienced teen girl or the struggling actress.

Moments before we land the stewardess hands out our Customs Declaration forms. I am the only person on the flight with a pen. My seatmate asks if she can borrow mine. For the second time on this flight, I am a hero. I can also lift 30 pounds and speak English.

I glance over at her form. She was born in 1986. Actress?

“Keep the pen.”

Later, when I reach the luggage carousel hers is the only other checked bag. I offer to carry her bag to her connecting flight.

“My name is Sarah.”

I know, I read your form.

That night, curiosity gets the best of me. I used to be better at this. Actress? Google. The only post I find is a brief mention on a message board:

“lol, this girl used to be in my highschool [sic]. We graduated from the same year. I saw her downtown about a year ago. She looked good. hehe Another one? Damn, what is with these Canadian women’s faces? They’re gorgeous.”

I click the accompanying link; my seatmate with a different name posing in and out of clothes, bending and stretching, touching and licking.

Actress.

Batman with Cy Vance

2009-07-09T09:00:00.000-07:00

Singultus

2009-05-31T17:29:00.000-07:00

If you happened to be flipping channels late last night you might have caught my television debut on the Jimmy Kimmel show. I was the second guest (appearing right after Kathy Griffin’s hilarious re-telling of a chance encounter with Nick Lachey and just before a thrilling 14-minute performance by Good Charlotte and the Los Angeles Philharmonic) in a spot commonly reserved for the human-interest guest, although the word ‘freak’ was thrown around a few times backstage.

When I was originally contacted by the show, I had naively assumed it had something to do with the vegetarian chili I had entered in the Clarence County Cook-off seven of the past nine years. Because despite not winning the competition again this year – my batch had placed 4th – it was a personal best for me. But it was, the gentleman on the phone explained, not the reason they were calling.

Unbeknownst to me I had recently been included in the Guinness Book of World Records under the heading “Longest Attack of Hiccups.” According to the editors my record-setting bout of hiccupping began in 1936, during a routine gathering of communists, and continued to this day. A total of more than 70 years, it beat the previous mark by almost 15 months. That combined with the attention garnered from the original AP story and the resulting media coverage (Paris and Lindsay are hiccupping at an alarming rate!!!) led to my fielding questions on a network talk show.

“Did you have any idea it would ever get this crazy?” Jimmy asked when the audience finally stopped clapping and sat down.

“No,” I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. It was the prepared answer provided by my publicist and not a very good one. Besides, now that I had time to reflect, there probably were a few signs.

For as long as I can remember, whenever dining at a restaurant the waiter would immediately deliver a pitcher of water to my table and with a concerned look ask, “Is there anything more I can do?” Could it be what I once believed was conscientious beveraging was in fact something else?

Or when I was stationed in Italy during the war and my commanding officer would take me aside every morning and say things like, “Why not try holding your breath or breathing into a bag?” I realize now it probably had nothing to do with mustard gas.

And just last week my wife looked up from her US Weekly and shouted, “Oh my god, will you quit it with the hiccups, already.”

After my appearance with Jimmy, I was led to a black sedan idling on the street. On the way past the protestors I saw the show’s executive producer turn to an intern and mutter, “Well, that’s the last we’ll hear from him.”

Never one to let a slam go unanswered and still hot from the studio lights, I spun around to face the woman.

“How dare you,” I shouted, waving my finger in her face.

“Bless you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What?” I asked, recoiling slightly, concerned she might be one of those religious zealots Katie Couric liked to talk about.

“You sneezed,” she replied.

I considered that for a moment.

“Did I?”

Bush's Bad Rap

2009-05-29T17:34:00.000-07:00

When President George W. Bush mentioned he might have to put a cap in Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s ass during a speech in Kansas last week, it appeared to many to be a serious gaffe or at the very least a political miscalculation. But most Washington scribes saw it for what it really was, a carefully orchestrated tactical maneuver by the president’s new Deputy Chief of Staff Timothy Z. Mosley, perhaps better known as hip-hop producer Timbaland.

On the surface, the rap impresario seems an odd choice for the job. Despite producing platinum-selling albums for the likes of the Pussycat Dolls and Nelly Furtado, and winning multiple Grammys, he has no real political experience. But based on his work with Justin Timberlake, the president’s close-knit group of advisers feel Timbaland is just the person to re-invent the image of a, “lame duck, former cheerleader from a privileged background.”

It is, of course, not the Bush administration’s first foray into the world of pop music. There was the president’s mildly successful collaboration with Ricky Martin at his first inauguration in 2001, and his former aide Karl Rove’s disastrous attempt at rapping at this year’s Correspondent’s Dinner (a performance many feel spelled the end for the man known as ‘The Architect’ and ‘Bush’s Brain’), but the president is clearly hoping for much more from his current collaboration and with good reason.

It has been years since the president had a bona fide hit. His most recent success “Mission Accomplished,” an elaborate Cher-inspired production on an aircraft carrier, was in 2003, and “Shock and Awe” (f. Tony Blair) was long before that. It’s a ridiculous amount of time to be making excuses, and slowly inching the president into Whitney Houston territory, particularly when you consider the recent departure of his own Bobby Brown figure, former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld.

There is also the Obama Factor. The recent Vibe Magazine cover story only confirmed what most people already know: Barack Obama just might be black enough, after all. For the last few months, Obama has been hammering Bush in speech-after-speech with no real response from the Republican White House. Even the afore-mentioned Rove, a man who prides himself on, “murderin’ people with his rhymes” has been tight-lipped about “B-Rock” on his way out.

This can only mean one of two things. The conservative machine has a plan to call-out Obama in a serious way in future speeches by its candidates, or they’re not worried about the Illinois senator’s chances because he’s weak on health care and his name is very rhyme-able (Iraq, Yo Mama?).

As in any partnership, there have been some early missteps by the Bush-Timbaland team. Spending three full days working on Bush’s ‘rap name’ was probably a poor use of the nation’s time. And having the president enter and exit every room flashing his fingers in the shape of a ‘W’ salute, a la the Wu Tang Clan, and shouting “W. in da house,” was borderline offensive, despite being laughed off by Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice as nothing more than “birth pangs”.

Listening to the president’s most recent speech on national defense, it incorporated many of the notes and much of the spin for which this administration has become known: “…the tide is turning…” and “…there is a connection between al Qaeda and Iraq.” It remains a controversial drum to beat, one that the president and the current crop of Republican frontrunners love to bang. But now, with Timbaland standing next to Bush, hyping the crowd and stating his own affirmation with a carefully placed ‘Uh huh, uh huh’ or ‘Yeah,’ it somehow all feels fresh.