Lending a helping hand in queens is a good way to get stabbed

I think that there is a special, embarrassing place in hell reserved for about 20 or so people from Queens.


The above is a link to a story about an act of heroism, for which the hero was rewarded with several stab wounds to the chest, a heaping load of ingratitude, many an indifferent passing stare, a spot in a cellphone photo archive, and ultimately a hasty trip to the spirit world.

At about 5:40 in the morning, a woman was being attacked. Her unlikely savior was a homeless man, who was then stabbed in the chest several times for his efforts. The assailant ran off one way, and the woman another. The homeless man then stumbled a few feet after his attacker, and collapsed face down upon the ground.

At this point, he lay there in a pool of blood for an hour and twenty minutes, before firemen arrived to find he was dead.

There is a surveillance tape which documents his fall to the ground, and then records over twenty people walk by, and simply glance at him while he bleeds out on the pavement.

One despicable asshole even has the audacity to walk out of a nearby building, snap a photo with his phone camera, and then walk away. Nobody called 911. Nobody stopped to help.


For one hour and twenty minutes, this guy bled out on the pavement. One hour, and twenty minutes.

I can understand that, upon seeing a bleeding, dying man on the ground early in the morning, one may feel a little nervous about sticking around to help out. That much may not be right, but it is understandable. However, it would probably be pretty far fetched to speculate that even two or three of those twenty plus passers by didn't have a cell phone. How hard is it to walk to a point where one feels safe, and make a call?

And this woman who was the original, intended victim? Where the hell did she go? And clearly she knew that there was some form of a scuffle which ensued between the attacker and the homeless man, so why wouldn't she, at the very least, call 911 after she escaped and report what occurred?

There is so much that is disturbing about this story. What does this say about the general state of humanity? That not even one amongst twenty people is willing to even so much as make a phone call? I realize that this same sort of thing occurred about 45 years ago with Kitty Genovese, but man, I thought maybe we had progressed as human beings since then. The indifference is astounding.

I don't care what instinct or fear dictates--if I encounter a bleeding person on the ground, I'm doing something about it.

So I guess the lesson we learn here--you better think twice before being a homeless hero in Queens.


Plastic, not paper please

I'm sort of baffled by all of the women who apparently still think that purchasing things with checks is anything other than silly and archaic. Today, 3 separate women attempted to make purchases at Carrabbas' using checks.

WTF? They all seriously looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out of my ears when I told them, "Umm, actually, we don't take checks." Just looks of utter bewilderment. Where are these women shopping, that they can still write checks? Most businesses have signs somewhere visible near the register stating, "Checks no longer accepted."

There is nothing worse than going to the grocery store (which most, unfortunately, still accept checks) and getting stuck behind some old crone, or a middle aged woman with 6 kids and a dumptruck sized cart full of cheese hot dogs and mini pizzas, filling out a check, and balancing her checkbook. For goodness sakes, get with the times. Use a plastic card. Or cash, if you don't trust yourself with plastic.

I've heard people argue that it makes them nervous to let a waiter take their card away, for fear that they could write down the credit card number. This is somehow less scary than leaving a check with ALL YOUR INFORMATION at locations scattered about the planet. Think about it--your name, address, bank account number, and often times your phone number and drivers license, (since most places don't trust idiots to not bounce checks.) All you're really leaving out is your birth day, cup size, and social security number.

Why do women seem to be the ones still using checks? I have never seen a man use one, not for years (leaving out business checks.) Today, a woman came in to buy a huge vat of ice cream. She wanted to pay with a check. I informed her that we don't accept them. She looked at me like I was the largest asshole in the region, gave an exasperated sigh, a slight head shake, and stated that "I've always used them before."


Not on my watch.

So she then got out her phone, called who I assumed was her husband, and was apparently informed that she was allowed to use one of those weird plastic cards. I guess maybe her husband doesn't think she is a big enough girl to pay with something that takes mere moments to transact. She then told me, upon handing me the card, to "run it as credit." So I ran it like I run every other card, with no idea whether or not it was going to go through as a credit or debit transaction.


I understand people using checks to pay bills via snail mail. I even understand paying said bills, or maybe rent with a check, hoping that it won't go through or be cashed for a few days, because you are waiting for a paycheck to come through. Or something. But for heavens sakes, paying with a check, and upon failure, a credit card for a 25 gallon bucket of ice cream is everything that is wrong with this country. I'd hardly say that a vat of Blue Bell vanilla falls under the category of "essential," albeit damn delicious.

Stop using checks. It is an annoying, pointless practice. I have managed to get through about 4 years on fewer than 10 or so checks. And somehow, the world has not ended, I have not fallen into financial ruin, and no Nigerians have managed to steal my identity.

If there happens to be any good reason besides having a carbon copy record of everything you ever purchase for owning a checkbook, I'd sure like to know what it is. And just why it seems to be mainly women clinging to such an obnoxious financial relic.


It is finished

I have really just beat the hell out of this topic, but I feel like it needs to be wrapped up.

First of all, if you have never had the chance to visit the original KFC on 3900 so state in SLC, you are missing out on a rather marvelous dining experience. Unless you despise KFC food, (which I do) because in that case, the original KFC is just a kitchy place to clog your arteries.

I'd say, overall, the double down was a let down. I fully suspected it to be way more disgusting than what it was. I thought half way though I'd be suffering some moderate heart pains. That maybe I'd wake up the following morning with a large, purplish bruise over the heart region of my chest. Psh, none of that even happened.

Mostly the double down just left me wishing that the negligible portion of bacon had been way less negligible. You could practically see through it, and therefore it added no flavor whatsoever to the complete meatwich.

I found myself thinking, "Okay. Next time, I'll ask for less sauce, and extra bacon." Immediately after which, I thought, "You idiot. There will never BE a next time. You (I) don't hate your (my) body (buddy) THAT much."

I ate a double down, drank 2 pepsis, had a small carton of potato logs, and then half a pint of frozen custard. Oh, and a kazoozle. I felt like if I was going to abuse myself, I might as well pull out all the stops. But about 1 am I was feeling guilty, and so went running down town.

Maybe that's why I didn't wake up with the purple bruise.

Just a monument to the colonel. May he weather the eternities enshrined in bronze.

Everyone that was hoping for a heart attack, but didn't even get one heart attack.


T-minus 2 days

Thursday, I'm going to eat a double down. A facebook event has been created, people have been invited, a location has been selected. This event has been etched into the fleshy tables of a KFC chicken heart. There is no turning back.

The last time I ate a KFC product, I was working at a gum factory. Because we like, kicked ass at producing and packaging a lot of gum (or something) we were rewarded one day with lunch. Many of us in the gum packing department were hopeful of a Pizza Hut experience. Much to the delight of the redneck white trash dudes in the shipping department, KFC was our victory prize. As I peeled away the lid from one of the chicken buckets, I marveled at how the fried chicken nestled in side looked the exact opposite of crispy. At that point in my life, I was by no means a very healthy eater. But by 3 bites into an original recipe canola oil sponge, I no longer felt the need to swallow, as anything put in my mouth, and then subsequently chewed, would pretty much just slide down my gullet of its own volition. I ate about half a chicken part, and could take no more. Much to the pleasure of the guy with the shirt that stated in humongous lettering "Oh what fun it is to ride." More chicken for that asshole.

As the day of atherosclerosis draws ever closer, I find myself growing afraid. I was reading a review about the double down on a blog, and was absolutely appalled by the included imagery. I think I've never laid eyes upon a more vile, grease soaked creation. I think that I've never looked at something meant for mass popular human consumption, and been so completely repulsed. Especially after a couple months of eating lots of veggies, fruits, and combinations of veggies and fruits, with occasional lean meats.

I feel like this thing is going to slither down my gullet, and then burst out of my chest, in a dramatic display of deleterious, meaty protest. Or at the very least I'm going to regain every pound I've shed over the last few months. Or I'll be rendered sterile. Or something. The bottom line is, nothing good can come from the coming experience.

But I have to go through with it. My curiosity is too great. I want to experience for myself this latest American abomination. The veritable abominable snowman of fast food creations. I want to try to understand the "why" of it. To know how we could have arrived at the point of such a mighty conglomeration of meat, not heretofore mass marketed on this planet.

I'm not looking forward to the incipient buddy growth.


Dear girls,

Please stop making this face. And then taking a picture of it when you do. Followed by posting it to your facebook account. Or blog. Or wherever it is you happen to be posting photos of yourself. Seriously. I've encountered entire facebook albums dedicated to this face.

I think I semi understand the underlying anatomy of posting a kissy-face-slightly-arched-eyebrows-sorta-seductive-gaze pose. I realize this accentuates your cheekbones, giving your face the illusion of being somewhat emaciated. Which, if the emaciated thing is what you are going for...well, spot on. And maybe some dudes will see your picture and think, "Whoa, I feel like she is making that stupid kissy-face-seductress-gaze pose at me." Although, the male specimen who thinks such a thing is probably the last person on earth from whom you would want to elicit such a response, as he is probably browsing your album alone at 3:30 in the morning with his shirt off, dividing glances between his own marvelous abs, and your kissy-face.

I'd actually love to have some input from guys here. Unfortunately, I think there is a disproportionate amount of females who read this blog vs. males. I'm not sure why. It may be that the blogging world is more heavily estrogen dominated. Or, it may be that I don't post enough pictures of babes doing a kissy-face. It's hard to know. But my question, is if you are a man, does the encounter of a kissy-face picture cause your loins to burn with desire, or do you, like me, find it to be a compelling reason make some sort of an audible "uggh" sound, in conjunction with a head shake, attached to a possible disgusted "sniff."

If you are a female, do you do the kissy-face for photos? And why? (If you happen to be a kissy-face culprit, feel free to respond anonymously.) Do you hate that your friends do it, or do you sort of think it is a good idea, but don't employ the technique, as you feel you have not yet attained mastery of the semi-seductive-gaze portion of the pose? Mastering the kissy-face-slightly-arched-eyebrows-sorta-seductive-gaze pose technique is hard. It really is.

Anyways, maybe this is simply another one of those things that falls under the "I'm never going to understand this," category, where dwell such phenomena as the popped collar, and flare jeans.

Oh, and the Double Down.



Upon leaving my house today, I encountered this gigantic treasure about a foot away from the sidewalk on my grass. Upon seeing it, I just stopped and marveled at the sheer magnitude of it. The only thing I had by which to scale it, was a Yoohoo can.

First of all, I'm really sorry this post is about feces. Second, I'm even more sorry that gargantuan thing is sitting upon my lawn, taking root. Third, I'm sorry again for posting a photo of said monstrosity possibly waiting, I fear, to come alive via some form of mutation to tear this city apart.

This is why I hate Salt Lake City dog owners. I have found no fewer than 8-10 such piles (albeit of a much smaller caliber) on my lawn in the time that I have lived in this house, and I can only imagine it will get worse as the summer arrives. You may think, "well would you want to pick that up while you were walking your dog?" Hell no, I wouldn't pick it up. Which is precicely why I will never own a creature that is capable of manufacturing feces of such epic proportions. That thing is bigger than a Yoohoo can. Get real.

If you choose to own a dog, and you choose to walk around with said dog, have the common decency to clean up after it. There is no way in hell my lawnmower will be able to grind that turd into oblivion. Until the cat lady or I find a shovel, that thing is a permanent fixture upon our lawn.

I'm really not okay with that.

Urgent help requireded!

Today I was on facebook. I noticed on the news feed, that my cousin, who lives in San Francisco, had posted as his status "NEED URGENT HELP!!!"

Naturally, I thought this was a weird thing to post on facebook. I mean, if a person was in need of urgent help, I think the last thing he or she would do, would be to update his or her facebook status. I could just imagine my cousin, trapped in a heap of twisted metal after a terrible car accident, barely coherent, accessing his facebook account via a cell phone, stating his need of "urgent help."

So I noticed that he (Justin) was currently on and available for chat. So I asked:


what is the urgent help needed?

thank God you're here andrew

*This line immediate raised my suspicion, as he wouldn't have called me andrew.

we're stuck in wales uk....as we speak
*First, I couldn't imagine my cousin updating his fbook status via a cell phone, being a respectable lawyer in his mid thirties, nor could i think of a single reason why he would be in Wales.


oh yeah?

got mugged at the park of the hotel where we stayed

all cash credit card and cell phone was all stolen off
*At this point, it seemed that either my law school graduate cousin was either really panicked, and had thus lost his ability to form a proper sentence, or he was a Nigerian pretending to be my cousin. I supposed the latter was probably correct.

oh shit!

what can i do??

I am the very most worried about you!

Do you need my help?

it was a brutal experience for us

we really need your help in getting back home

OMG I can totally imagine that such a thing would be very brutal

were you guys very scared?

we're in pains with injuries and bruises

No! what sort of pains and injuries??

I have very worries for you guys!

we need your help andrew

Wait, should I get the guy who got you? I have a .45

I am not even scared to seek vengeance for your hurts and pains and injuries and bruises

*I certainly could not imagine my cousin using the term OMG.

do you wanna help out or not?

Yes! I said I do!

Tell me how to help! I am so worried! an attack in the UK! I cant believe this has happened to you

am damn serious here

is Charlie okay?
*Charlie is Justin's first born



and dillan?
*Second born.

what about Timothy?! Please for the love of god, tell me timothy didn't get hurt
*Timothy, doesn't exist.


dillan is in pains and timothy is fine

our return flight leaves in about some few hours from now..but we're having problem settling the hotel bills

Did they take Timothy's prosthetic leg??


wondering if you could pls loan us some little piece of cash to get the bills sorted out and get a cab to the airport
*At this point, I was very interested as to how much this little piece of cash would be.

will def refund it back as soon as we get back home

I guess i could give you some cash.

how much do you need?


I will only send you cash if you swear in your wrath that you will buy little Timothy a sack of corn nuts. he must be devastated

*the Nigerian was apparently pist that he would have to pony up $1.89 for a sack of corn nuts.



we need help here andrew

i swear with my life

i will

how can i even know if you are speaking true?

am damn serious here
*why the exact same misspelling as the first time he was "am damn serious here."?


how can i know that Timothy is really okay??




he is fine and doing good
*I was about 90% reassured at this point.


what color is his prosthetic leg???

how can i even get the monies to you even?

you can have the money wired to my name via western union money transfer

i dont even know if you are damn serious right now

i have my passport with me to pick it up at the western union outlet

how damn serious are you even??


if am not i won't tell you to wire money to my name

you and i know that i will need a proof before i can pick it

well, what name should I send the monies too?

you will need my name and location to wire to



Here's my info below

got it?

wait, I am really close to where you are at!

Ill just bring you the monies!

I can be there in 15 minutes!!!!

*This was apparently a frustrating concept, me bringing him the monies.

Does that sound great!?

you just have to go down to a western union outlet near you and send the money

That way, I can make SURE timothy gets his corn nuts!

No, dumbass, I am only a few blocks away!

I can just HAND you the monies!

do you wanna help out or not

tell me let me know

Yes, And i also called a police officer, because I am worried about your pains and bruises. he will be coming to that address shortly

and then I will bring you the cash!

At this point, my Nigerian friend apparently realized I was probably not going to send him $1480 dollars, and thus quit corresponding with me.

Now, here is what I find to be a little baffling. Who are the people that actually fall for this? I mean, certainly my dear cousin Justin's account isn't the first this guy has hacked. So obviously, some people are falling for this, and are somehow not realizing that, in an emergency where bruises and pains are involved, a victim is probably not going to be using fbook to find help. I think that if you are too dense to realize that you are clearly talking to a person who does not speak English with any sort of fluency, then you probably deserve to be raped of $1480 dollars.

Unless you are my grandmother. I will beat that guy to death, if he rips off my grandma.


God help us, this thing actually exists

Just when I thought that the fast food industry couldn't come out with anything more appalling (the McRib, chicken McNuggets, the Baconator, the Burger King Stacker Quad ((holy shit!)) I see this thing and get knocked on my ass.

The arterial Apocalypse pictured above is called the "Double Down." Just when KFC sorta tried to score some "healthy" points with grilled chicken, rather than the usual deep fried lard bucket, they drop this coronary napalm on the American public. I feel like, where land dwelling creatures are concerned, it should maybe be a crime to combine the products of more than 2 different animals in any one concoction. Especially when there isn't even any damned bread involved.

So, let's see. With the double down, we have product from 3 separate mammals: Cheese(s) from a cow, bacon(s) from a pig, and 2 huge chickens from probably an unfathomable amount of chickens, neatly pressed into patties (this estimate does not include any unknown variables, such as other birds or mice accidentally being ground up with the chicken.) And then no bread. And some sauce. The epitome of a meat sandwich. This is apparently what we have come to--thousands of years of eating, and we have digressed to a meat sandwich, that really can not even be classified as a sandwich, as the word "sandwich" inherently implies the use of bread. A meatwich maybe?

Whatever you want to call it, this is a big punch to the arteries and a drop kick to the non-existent 6 pack of obese America.

KFC claims that they have done an "estimate" on the nutrition information of the Double Down, and this is what they came up with:

Calories: 590
Calories from fat: 280
Total fat: 31g
Saturated fat: 10g
Trans fat: 0g
Cholesterol: 190mg

Hey KFC? Get real.

If that thing is less than 1000 calories, then I'm Jonathan Safran Foer.

I'm probably going to eat one. One.