The Way I See It...

The way I see it, there are two types of people in this world. People I want to see jogging and people I don't want to see jogging.

Baby's First Steps

I don't hate your kid. I really don't. It's adorable to watch him bumbling up the subway stairs all on his own, with his tiny chicken legs straining with each step. His little muscles are pumping with such determination, maybe he'll grow up to be champion mountain climber. This is a great moment for him and your family. Wow, look at him go. You should be proud of him for the accomplishment. I'm proud of him.

But it's fucking rush hour. It's gonna take me 15 minutes to get up to the surface because of this log jam. Pick up your god damned kid before he gets punted Reggie Roby style up the stairs. Thanks.

Live Blogging from class: Geopolitics of Energy Security in Eurasia

Live blogging from my Energy Security in Eurasia class right now. It's a graduate course, but there is one undergrad girl in the class. She really offers a lot to the discussions. Right now, we're talking about Russia's energy policy and the potential implications of the development of Iran's South Pars natural gas field. Her reply: "Russia is such a meany." She then proceeded to flip through her daily planner and exclaim, "oh my god, I totally forgot I have a paper due tomorrow."

Right, thanks for your valuable input.

Have You Ever...

Fantasized about rubbing your cheek(either interpretation) tenderly across Brady Anderson's sideburns?

Me neither.

Spoonman

Hey girls! Want a guilt free way to break up with that boyfriend you don't really like? We'll I've got the surefire solution for you.

The next time your "not quite boyfriend" is lovingly spooning with you, let a nasty fart rip. That's right, I'm talking about a real sheet-shaker. Make sure his junk is near the evacuation point for maximum effect. No matter how hot you are, there is no way for any man to recover from that violation. He will be forced to make up his own lame excuse to break up with you. Best of all, he will be too embarrassed to tell his buddies the real reason why, lest they discover his shame.

So there you have it. Use this power wisely. You're welcome.

Highly Partisan Tuesdays (presented in non-partisan format)

Not sure what to think about current events? Having a hard time forming an opinion? Let someone else decide for you. This segment presents highly partisan op-eds and commentary from both the left and the right. There is no middle ground. It is a zero-sum game. One of these people is right and one is wrong, and you must decide which side you are one. The truth is not somewhere in between. Everything is either black or white. There are no shades of gray.

This week we have radio talk show host Michael Savage vs. MSNBC's Keith Olbermann. Savage rails Obama for his Special Olympics comment and his push for "Hitler-like" youth camps. Olbermann labels former VP Dick Cheney a "terrorist" and tells him he should leave the country.

Be sure to memorize some sound bites so that you can impress your friends.

My Top 5 Deserted Island CDs

5) Tie - Mazzy Star "So Tonight That I Might See"



If you're stuck on an island, it's important to have at least one really depressing disc. I had trouble deciding so I chose two. If you're the guy who's gonna say, "oooohhh that's fucked up, you can't have a tie," eat shit. This is what I think of you.

Say what you will, but this album gets it done for me every time. It borderline makes you want to walk out into traffic, but you probably don't have to worry about that on a deserted island, so it is what it is.

Top Songs: Fade Into You, Into Dust

5) Tie - Elliot Smith "From a Basement on the Hill"



This guy wrote the book on depressing music and then oddly enough, he committed suicide by knife in 2003. If you listen to him too much, the melancholy really starts to take over your whole persona. Whenever I hear "Miss Misery" I feel like barricading myself into my apartment for two weeks and consuming nothing but cheap scotch and chinese. Every album is really the same. I chose this because it has a song named, "A Distorted Reality Is Now a Necessity to Be Free."

Top Songs: Twilight, A Fond Farewell

4) Rolling Stones - "Exile on Main St."



If you haven't jumped yet, you're gonna need something to bring you back off the edge of that cliff. For me "Exile on Main Street" is just what the doctor ordered. It puts a little extra jump in your step. It has a song called "Happy." It has a song called "Turd on the Loose." If that's not fun, I don't know what is.

Top Songs: Rocks Off, Sweet Virginia, Tumbling Dice


3) Son Volt - "Trace"



I can listen to this whole album start to finish. It takes some time to really appreciate what these guys bring to the table, but once you figure it out, you won't look back. Trust me. If Tom Hanks had this album with him in Castaway, he wouldn't have had to start talking to a god damn soccer ball. It's that simple.

Top Songs: Drown, Catching On, Loose String


2) The Replacements - "Tim"



One of the most under rated bands of the 80s, these guys really didn't care about being hip or making catchy videos - they just wanted to drink, fuck around with some instruments, and maybe play a few songs in between. I saw lead singer Paul Westerberg in DC one time and he kept giving money to people in the front row to buy him more beers. By the end, he was lying face first on stage and some kid from the audience grabbed the mic and started singing. When the bouncer dragged the kid off-stage, Westerberg rose from his stupor long enough to order the bouncer to let the kid return. Unrefined? Perhaps. Genuine? Absolutely.

Top Songs: Just listen to this drunk set: Bad and Worse. If you have time, check out this video for Bastards of the Young. Comments under the video include: "this is a really good song but the video is slow" and "dumb vid." These are the types of people that just don't get it, and knowing they weren't with me on the island would make me happy.


1) Radiohead - "In Rainbows"



If I'm stuck on an island, I need to have a Radiohead album with me. Truth be told, I could probably get by with 5 Radiohead albums, but if I heard "Ideotheque" one too many times, it's possible that I would morph into one of those mutant humans from "I am Legend." And don't give me that shit about how they're over-hyped and this and that. Just stop. They deserve every bit of the hype. Simply put, they are on another level - kind of like that kid who had sex with not one but two of his teachers.

Ok Computer and The Bends are the obvious choices here, but In Rainbows has really grown on me. I used to listen to "Nude" on loop while working out until one time I woke up 30 minutes later doing Romanian Dead Lifts with no shirt on. Game, set, match.

Top Songs: Nude, All I Need, Jigsaw Falling into Place (Tavish, if you read this, I know you're going to say, "Nawwww, Track 4 is the best, man" but you're wrong. It's not.)

Have You Ever...

Licked your own shit, just so you can properly use the phrase "tastes like shit"?

Me neither.

CitiField Stadium

I just want to say how sick and tired I am of people complaining about CitiBank & naming rights.

For those of you who are unaware, before the whole financial crisis, CitiBank purchased the naming rights to the Mets' brand-spankin' new ballpark for the bargain-basement price of $400 Million over 20 years ($20 Million per year).

By the way, just in case I get accused of having ulterior motives, yes I am a Mets fan, but I also hate the name "CitiField." Let's be honest, this isn't the height of creativity here. Selling the naming rights for your newly constructed New York City ballpark to CitiBank so that they can name it CitiField is like farting in a crowded place and then looking around with your best "who farted?" face. I'm sure all of the 5 year old Mets fans out there think it's just cheeky that the Mets' new stadium has the word "Citi" in it. Oohhhh! Ahhhh! Golly, I just love double entendres! Tee-hee!

But listen, I may think it sucks, but to my grave I will defend CitiBanks' right to purchase it. I'll also defend the Mets' right to sell it to the highest bidder, or whomever they deem appropriate and for whatever reason they see fit (as long as it's not infringing upon anyone else's rights). After all, we are talking about Fred Wilpon's own private business entity (sole owner of the NY Mets). Who is anyone else to tell him how to run his own business? If you open a sandwich shop named "Shitty Food Delicatessen", as stupid a decision as I personally might think that is, it's still your decision to make and you're completely entitled to it. Dumbass.

This is precisely why I hate people. They're retarded. Actually, I'm sorry, that's an insult to all of the mentally handicapped people out there.

People get all worked up into a tizzy about CitiBank being run into the ground and they demand that its management be held accountable and new management be inserted to bring the company back afloat and blah, blah, blah... That part's all understandable and I agree 100%. But then, because they're so fucking stupid, the same people turn around and complain when CitiBank does things like keep the naming rights to this stadium which, incidentally, CitiBank purchased before everything went to shit. It's like the ultimate form of tunnel vision. Like some plumber from appalachia knows better how to run a multi-billion dollar international bank?

First of all, $20 Million a year is pocket change when you're talking about giant corporations like CitiBank. I know, that sounds horrible, but it's the truth. Deal with it. That's why the bailout was in the Billions... with a "B"... not an "M"... Billions...

Second of all, and this is the important part, what good is bailing out CitiBank if you're going to handcuff their ability to promote their business? As any ad guy will attest, part of doing business, a HUGE part of it, is finding new business. Or, in CitiBanks case, new customers. The American public grudgingly agrees to save corporations like CitiBank, because if we don't we'll all go back to pooping in holes and wiping with leaves. So then what do we do? We try to fuck the very company we saved by asking them to withdraw their marketing & advertising.

"Waaahhhh! You shouldn't use the bailout money for this! Wahhhh!!!"

Why the fuck not?! Seriously. Why not? Give me one good reason. What should they spend it on? Bonuses?

It's not that hard people. It's called foresight. It's not that complicated. In my opinion, the culprit really is the internet. For all of the wonderful things it's brought us, it has also made an expert out of everyone. That's why the plumber from appalachia thinks he knows better than everyone else. Listen Joe, or whatever your name is, stay out of it will ya? You may enjoy wiping your ass with poison ivy, but I don't.

Revisionist History

I just read this on the Huffington Post:

It is a rather curious spectacle to see congressional Republicans express outrage at the exorbitant bonuses being handed out by bailed-out companies and blame the Obama administration for failing to curb the practice with AIG. Because when the first installment of the Troubled Asset Relief Program was passed it was the Bush administration and GOPers in Congress who were insisting that caps on executive compensation not be part of the legislation.

As the New York Times reported at the time that TARP was being crafted, "Congress and the administration remained at odds over the demands of some lawmakers, including limits on the pay of top executives whose firms seek help."

Former Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson said that while he was upset with the levels of salary afforded to top executives, any cap on such would dissuade companies from participating in the TARP.

"If we design it so it's punitive and so institutions aren't going to participate, this won't work the way we need it to work," he told Fox News Sunday on September 21.

Senator Richard Shelby, the top Republican on the Senate Banking Committee, told CBS news that: "It should be up to the board of directors of a private corporation to set the compensation of an executive; it shouldn't be Congress's role."

Senator Mel Martinez told CNBC that: "While it is very appealing to think about executive compensation as being a part of this, one of the drawbacks to that is perhaps that we would have fewer entities participate in what is essentially a voluntary act."

And House Minority Whip Eric Cantor, "outraged" over AIG's issuance of $165 million in bonuses, said he was not in favor of "the federal government be[ing] able to set salaries across the board," when the issue of executive compensation arose in September 2008.

Funny. Politicians used to lie about stuff that happened 100 or 50 years ago. Then they started lying about stuff that happened 10 years ago. And then, the size of their cojonez finally surpassed that of their heads, and they started lying about stuff from 5 years ago. All of this, mind you, in a world where we are now capable of punching in a few keystrokes to dial up pretty much whatever our hearts may fancy on, in the words of Jon Stewart, the interwebs. Missed octomom's crazy interview? Youtube it! Wanna watch last weeks' episode of LOST? Youtube it! Searching for an analysis of 80's sitcom intro's? Youtube it!

And now? Well, as you can see, apparently now politicians have taken to lying about stuff that happened merely 5 months ago. Pretty soon, it'll be 5 weeks, days, minutes, seconds?

I can see it now. Pretty soon, Eric Cantor will be doing an interview on CNN:

Eric Cantour: "I guarantee you that Stem Cell research will not result in any medical miracles and that's why I think we should stop all funding..."

Wolf Blitzer: "Sorry to interrupt you congressman but we are getting breaking news that a private laboratory in Michigan, specializing in stem cell research, has just released proof that they have discovered the cure for cancer!"

Eric Cantour: "As I've been saying for years Wolf, stem cell research is the most promising medical research in the world."

The Evolution of 80s Sitcom Opening Credits: Growing Pains

This segment explores the opening sequences to some of the 80s most popular sitcoms and analyzes how those sequences changed over the course of the show's run. This week we take a look at the mildly influential Growing Pains, starring Alan Thicke as Dr. Jason Roland Seaver and the sneaky hot Joanna Kerns as his wife, Maggy. The cast also featured Kirk Cameron as Mike Seaver, Tracy Gold as Carol, and Jeremy Miller as Ben. From 1991-92, Leonardo DiCaprio played Luke Brower, a homeless teen who was taken in by the Seaver family.

The opening credits to Growing Pains underwent radical changes after the successful first season in 1985. The season 1 main opening featured various works of art, closing with a shot of the cast, which goes from black-and-white to color. See below.



The opening credits from seasons 2 through 5 featured an opening shot of the cast in front of the house where establishing shots of the Seaver house are used, switching to photos of each cast member from childhood and, in Alan Thicke and Joanna Kerns' (sneaky hot) case, to adulthood, mixed with various episode clips. In all episodes that aired from 1986-1990, the opening sequence ends with a "house gag" immediately after the final episode clip, and, starting with the fifth season, ran while the executive producers names' were listed. The house gag changes from episode-to-episode, and usually features the cast standing in front of the Seavers' house. A typical gag featured all but one member of the cast (this was usually the cast member whom the main story was about in that particular episode) leaving to go inside the Seaver house, with the other leaving seconds later. This was a running visual joke mildly similar to that of the "couch gag" sequences on The Simpsons. Most house gags last only about 10 seconds, but the longest one lasted about 20 seconds. Since Ben is the one left outside the house in the clip below, it is reasonable to think that this episode was probably Ben-centric. But I can't be sure, so I won't say for certain.



If you ask me, the first season kind of has that Cheers opening theme feel to it, with the old pictures, etc. It makes sense because Cheers was at the top of its game back then and probably would have influenced the writers of other sitcoms. Even in the Season 5 clip, they still have those sepia tone photos of Alan Thicke and Joanna Kerns (so sneaky). The one constant throughout the show's run is the theme song, "As Long As We've Got Each Other," originally composed by John Bettis and Steve Dorff. However, if you listen closely, you will notice a subtle, yet important difference. In season one, the song is performed solo by B.J. Thomas. Famous in his own right for his rendition of "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head," Thomas brought a great deal of star power to the show's opening. In seasons 2,3,5, and 7, Thomas was joined by Jennifer Warnes in a duet. For season 4 (and season 4 only), Thomas sang the theme with none other than Dusty "Son of a Preacher Man" Springfield.

Although cancelled in 1992, Growing Pains is still in syndication and remains one of the most popular TV shows in China, where it is often used to teach English classes.

March Madness is Here! Just Stare at It.

ANSWERS TO RHETORICAL QUESTIONS POSED BY ANDY ROONEY ON 12/21/08: Andy Rooney’s Gift List

Andy Rooney, master of the rhetorical question, was at it again around holiday season, sticking it to all those crafty wordsmiths who publish holiday catalogues.


Watch CBS Videos Online

Rooney: “Brookstone says they’ll give me $20 off if I buy $100 worth of their stuff. Well, why don’t they just charge me $80 for it???”

Answer: They would. That is actually the intended message of the promotion. Brookstone will charge you $80 for $100 worth of goods.

Rooney: “(the Club Wireless catalogue has) "over 450 gifts under $30"; maybe I’ll take one of each of those. Would that be…just thirty dollars???”

Answer: No, each of the individual gifts in the catalogue is priced under $30. If you were to order one of each of the 450 gifts listed you could end up paying as much as $13,495.50, but not more - before applicable sales taxes.

Rooney: “Highlights (magazine) - whatever Highlights is – says it’ll give you a "2009 hidden pictures calendar" with every order. I’d want to see a couple of the hidden pictures first. What would a “hidden picture” be anyway???”

Answer: Highlights is a family/ children’s magazine well known for their “hidden pictures” game on the cover of each issue. A “hidden picture” is a picture with several individual items hidden within it. Kids look at the picture and try to find the hidden items. A “hidden pictures calendar”, we presume, is a calendar with a new hidden pictures game for kids to enjoy each month. A “calendar” is a table or register with the days of each month and week in a year.

Rooney: “"Museum Store" – I guess they sell museums – Maybe I’ll buy a couple of museums.”

Answer: I know this wasn’t a question – but just want to help alleviate the confusion. “Museum Store Company” does not sell museums; the company is a seller of Historic Replicas & History Gifts.

Rooney: “This is a Sears catalogue. Sears? Whatever happened to Roebuck??? You never hear “Sears-Roebuck” anymore. Call if you’re out there Roebuck.”

Answer: “Roebuck” was dropped from the trade name of the “Sears” stores in the 1970’s, though not from the official corporate name Sears, Roebuck & Company. Alvah Roebuck, the original partner of Richard Warren Sears, died in 1948, so chances are he will not be contacting you. But this is not to say that you won’t have a chance to speak with him soon.

THE ANDY ROONEY VITALITY TRACKER

(This first paragraph is to be read in your mind’s best whiny, Andy-Rooney-voice impersonation.)

Did ya ever wonder why people don’t send each other paper letters in the mail anymore? Today everything’s done with computers. I don’t like that. Computers confuse me. Remember when people used to write letters with a pencil? I liked that. Now everything's on email. (sigh) Oops, I crapped my pants.

I admit that I watch 60 Minutes every week, but the only reason is so I don’t miss the day they announce that Andy has died. I’m like Ben Affleck in Good Will Hunting, where the best part of my Sunday is when I turn on 60 Minutes, cause I think maybe, one day, I'll turn on that TV and Andy won’t be there. No goodbye. No see you later. No nothin’.

Rooney has completely lost any ability whatsoever to make a profound observation and now he is just listing obvious shit (so basically he has turned into the 60 Minutes II Charles Grodin version of Andy Rooney). I almost question whether Andy writes this stuff before he gets in front of the camera or if he is just constantly rambling in his office and CBS rolls in a crew once a week to record him for a few minutes.

And now thanks to the wonders of the internet, we can all enjoy Andy's 2 minute Sunday segments any day of the week. Check out this one on heroism.



I have an idea. Transcribe the first 50 seconds of that video - in crayon – and submit it to any fourth grade teacher to see if she can pick it out of a group of her students’ papers on the topic of heroism.

“War is civilization at its worst”

Deep.

“…and it’s a strange twist that there’s more heroism at war than at any other time.”

Heavy.

“Men do things for each other at war that they’d never think of doing for each other at peace. Why is that?”

I don’t know Andy, maybe because most guys don’t get a chance to take a bullet for their cube-mate. Or throw themselves on a hand grenade in line at Starbucks. Why is that?

Men also do things TO each other during war that they’d never think of doing in a time of peace. Why is that? What the hell am I talking about? What’s Rooney trying to say to us with this piece? Is war good or bad? Just tell us Andy and don't make us think so damn much. He’s like a riddle, wrapped inside an enigma, wrapped inside an Alzheimer’s patient, broadcast to a national audience.

melvin.

Little Bit of Rip Off

The bloggers here at The Third Sleeve are always looking out for the American consumer (fuck the foreign ones). Our investigative reporters have uncovered that the creative wizards behind the Take 5 "Little Bit of Luck" campaign are ripping off the Nickelodeon classic show "Littl' Bits" about adorable little woodland creatures. Now, the creators of the Nickelodeon show were obviously on LSD, but they knew how to compose a catchy song about fun and love.

Take a look for yourself. First up is the creepy, extremely unfunny Take 5 campaign




Notice the song. It's grating, but catchy. Now check out the theme song for Nickelodeon's "Littl Bits" (listen closely around the 43 second mark)



There you have it. While all the "littl' bits" care about is love, those greedy Take 5 bastards are selling luck like a creepy playground flasher sells candy (That tootsie roll was delicious by the way, thanks). We're happy that the world (all two of our readers) are now aware of this blatant corruption. Later guys, I'm gonna go buy some Take 5 tickets so I don't have to write for this stupid blog again. Wish me luck!

Tagline Competition

If there is one thing I have learned in the past week, it's that running a blog is no easy task. I feel like I haven't slept since the site launched a week ago today. I'm malnourished, disheveled, and my career is beginning to fall apart. I feel kind of like Ron Burgundy after he was fired from the Channel 4 news team, and began spiraling out of control. Yes, milk was a bad choice. At first glance, it may seem as though there hasn't been much done in terms of the site's design, but trust me, you are mistaken. I've almost figured out how to get the visitor count gadget and reader heat map installed. I'm also working on acquiring some sponsors so we can start cashing in. You can look forward to these advancements later in the week. However, despite all of this progress, I am only one man, and would like to enlist your help. The Third Sleeve needs a tagline, which will appear below the title at the top of the page. I have decided to make this a competition, and the winner will receive a free TTS t-shirt as soon as the first shipment comes in. I think we have a pretty good body of work on the site so far, and it should give you a basic sense of what we are all about. We are looking for a slogan that concisely, yet thoroughly embodies our noble mission. So post your submissions in the comment section, and the TTS board of governors will select a winner later this week. And don't forget to tell you friends. Good luck!

EA Sports: Addiction 2009

Here's an idea for a video game, free of charge - EA Sports: Addiction 2009. Take it and run with it. I expect no part of the profits or any recognition, whatsoever. This is how it should work: the premise of the game would be to effectively manage your addiction while maintaining the facade of a normal life. The game should allow you to make your own character and to choose which addiction you wish to live with. It could be your typical cocaine, heroin, or prescription pain meds. It could be alcohol or gambling. You can also throw in a few wild cards like crystal meth or porn, although you may want to consider making people buy a special "add-on" package for the porn option. Kind of similar to the R-rated Sims extension pack (which happens to be a complete waste of money).

The overall goal of the game is to feed your addiction without getting caught. So, you score points every time you buy drugs, swizzle some whiskey while at work, or sneak off to a casino by yourself to gamble your tax return before your wife can piss it away at Filene's Basement. You lose points if you fail to feed your addiction or if you go extended periods without getting your fix. Obviously, you also lose points if you get nabbed by an undercover cop or get reported by a co-worker who smells a toxic mixture of cheap scotch and cherry binaca every time you speak.

The game should make you (the video game you) live out your life in real-time. So, you have to get up, eat breakfast, commute to work, exchange meaningless banter at the water cooler, pick the kids up at school, etc. Therefore, the game should be realistic. Getting fired from your job because you consistently start your happy hour at 11AM may score you some points because you will have more time to spend at the bar. But when your last paycheck runs out, you have to start searching for other sources of income. Get a new job, sell the car, pawn your great-grandmother's wedding ring, whatever it takes.

There are lots of other options that could be discussed. For instance, I think you should be able to choose where you live and in what time period. Managing your addiction in the the deep south of the 1950s would certainly be different than NYC 2009. Or would it? It's tough to say. You could also have different levels based on degree of difficulty. Anyway, I'm sure you get the idea by now. The possibilities are endless. I even thought one of the addictions could be an addiction to video games, but the thought of this quickly gave me a headache.

Good luck. I hope this idea works out for you.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

I'm not Irish. I don't have any great "I got shit-faced drunk and jacked off on Grant's tomb" St. Patrick’s Day stories. I do have a childhood story tied into the Irish that will have to work in its place. When I was younger, the quick buck always appealed to me. Hell, it still does. The quickest way to make some cash when you're a kid is to shovel snow. The rich and the elderly are usually a sound target. So one day, a snow day my guess, I decided to make some money. First, the rich prick that lived across the street. Oh and I was forced to take my sister. I was about 10 or 11 at the time, so that makes my sister about 8. You know how much snow an 8 year old shovels? It's about the same amount a 28 year old girl shovels...so basically nothing. The idea was we'd split the money, even though I was shoveling about 80% to her 20%. So we knock on the door of the rich prick and the rich prick's wife answers. This rich pricks were part of the new wave of neighbors. Fancy cars, nice clothes and landscaped lawns. After a bit of haggling she agreed for us to shovel. I think she chewed us down to 20 bucks. Thanks Yenta. So we (me) break our asses and finish the walkway, driveway and sidewalk. 20 bucks in hand. We're rich! I'm sore. Let's keep moving. I promise the Irish tie-in is coming.

Our next target: The elderly! And much to our luck, the elderly live right next door to the rich prick. Let's keep the shoveling momentum going. "Knock, knock" It's Marie. Now Marie is a great lady. She lived across the street from me. Her husband Frank, another great man was recently deceased. They lived together on our block for 50 years. They were the original owners. They were both Irish. I promise we’re getting closer. I can't tell you how many baseball, wiffle ball, kick ball home runs I launched into their lawn, car, windows, and roof, but it has to be in the thousands. We'd see them all the time. They'd smile and say hello and ask us how we were all doing. They were genuinely nice people. In fact, most of the people on the block were. They were all around the same age. I liked my old neighbors. They always said hello to me, they were always home on Halloween for candy and always told me how good a baseball player I was. So anyway, Marie lets us shovel her property. It's about the double the size of the prick's house. After what felt like hours, we finally finished and knocked on the door awaiting our huge windfall. She let us in. I'll never forget the smell of her house. It smelled like an old person's house, but not as flagrant. It was very neat, and the living room was dark blue. After a minute, she came back from the kitchen. "Thank you so much, you did a great job" Oh no problem Marie. Just pay me old lady, time is money. That was an inside thought. And then she handed me something. It was a cake pan wrapped in tin foil. She said, "I baked you an Irish soda bread." I replied, “Thanks so much, it was our pleasure" and left. I was devastated. I had worked my nuts off for some cash and I got handed a stupid loaf of strange smelling bread. What the fuck am I supposed to buy with this? Or something to that effect was probably my thought. We walked home plopped our fat asses down and started bitching to my mother. Stuff along the lines of “That cheap bitch didn't pay us anything.” “What a fucking asshole” I was advanced for my age. But, we were hungry. So we took off the foil and tried the bread. Fucking bread! Maybe I was just starving, but it was actually pretty good. Actually I think I ate the entire loaf minus the 20% for my sister. 10 bucks each and some bread. What a disaster.

Unfortunately, Marie passed away a couple of years later. Pretty soon after, the rest of the old people on my block either moved or died. But things change I guess. We have new neighbors now. I don't know any of their names. I don't know their kids' names. I’m pretty sure they don’t know mine. I played softball against my next door neighbor a couple of years ago. We played 2 games. He didn't even recognize me. I said hello towards the end and it took about 5 seconds for it to register who I was. Oh, and that rich prick I shoveled for first. I HAVEN'T SPOKEN TO THEM SINCE!!! 15 YEARS!!! You know what. I miss those old people. I miss the people that knew my name. The people that gave me a card on my birthday. I miss the older generation.

It snowed pretty recently. My dad is not able to shovel his walk and there‘s no one to do it for him besides me. I live too far away to just come over and shovel. It snowed on a Monday. Wednesday night I made it over to my dad's and you know what, the snow was still there. Everyone else's was gone. But not his. How sad. I'm willing to bet the old neighbors wouldn't have let that happen. If I had the chance, I wish I could shovel Marie's driveway again, because I knew she would have done it for us. I’d shovel it a thousand times. At the time, I was too young and stupid to recognize it, but she handed us that bread for 2 reasons. One, she probably didn’t have the money. The second, its not something she should have paid us for. It was just the right thing for us to do. And she was right. I'm glad she didn't pay us. It would have cheapened the memory. I miss that Irish soda bread. It's never tasted as good since. And I miss Marie. So in the spirit of the St. Patrick's Day, when you get shit faced on Tuesday, just remember, puke on your prick neighbor's front door and try to leave the elderly alone. Unless they're pricks too, then fuck 'em.

Happy St. Patrick's Day.

Have you ever...

Tried to get a girl off with a flower like Josh Hartnett did in 40 days and 40 nights and ended up giving her a nasty rash?

Me neither.

Hi

Hi, I'm Heals. I'm unemployed, thousands of dollars in debt, and will soon be moving into my Honda Civic in order to rent out my apartment. That aside, I'm happy to join the staff of the Third Sleeve. My previous blog, the Ultra Mundane, recently became a victim of the financial crisis. Luckily, JGregs had a spot for me here. Simply put, I think this site has the potential to be different than the other 50,000 blogs out there: the writing is crisp, the design is hip, and the rants combine just the right amount of "I don't give a fuck" with "I give more of a fuck than anyone else alive."

JGregs and I go way back. We were roommates in college and once spent a spring break in Perth Amboy, NJ.

I'm not sure what form my blog posts will take, per se, but I think it's safe to say this guy pictured above will be heavily involved. I did a google image search for "sleeve" and this was on the first page. I've been trying to read the expression on his face and I can't tell if he's proud to be wearing a chain mail suit or slightly embarrassed. I'm trending towards embarrassed because I think this guys means business and he's probably upset because he has no matching gloves and his sword looks like it came from KB Toys.

I'm watching the Caps-Flyers game right now, and the Caps color man just used the word "efforting" in a sentence. "The Caps are efforting for their fifth straight road win." Excuse me while I peel my face off.

Why I Hate the Gym

In the spirit of the two rants that preceded this post, I have decided to let off some steam of my own. Turns out this whole blogging thing can be quite therapeutic. Anyways, in an effort to relieve some stress, and get myself into peak physical condition for the upcoming softball season, I have been trying to make it to the gym as often as I can. Certain people make this experience infuriating:

The Grunter – I don’t know about you, but I can’t remember the last time screaming like a rectally impaled walrus helped me put up extra weight. This is never necessary. If anything, I remain as silent as possible so the steroid monsters don’t catch me struggling with two plates on the bench press. So shut the fuck up. No one cares how hard you are pushing yourself to finish that last set of deltoid rows.

Sports-Bra Whale – Ever notice how the only chicks who show their stomachs off on the stair master are usually pushing 250lbs? Forget the sports-bra, you should be wearing a fucking sweatshirt. This way you can work up more of a sweat and save yourself the embarrassment. No one wants to see your lard rolls flopping around like a trash bag full of cake batter. Unless you are intentionally trying to humiliate yourself as a motivational device, cover that shit up.

Treadmill Flatulater – This is just disgusting. It smells foul enough in the poorly ventilated, hot and sweaty cardio-room as it is. Your sulfuric emissions aren't helping the cause. If you can’t control your bodily functions when you work out, stay the fuck home. Also, much like when some jerk lets one go in a crowded bar, everyone is implicated here. There is rarely an obvious culprit. The smokeshow trying to finish her 5th mile to my right probably thinks it was me. Thanks a lot, buddy.

Profuse Sweater – This one’s simple. If you emit so much sweat that it almost fills the cup holder on the treadmill, you should probably spray some sanitizer on it. That, or have your sweat glands cauterized. Because that is far from normal.

While these are only a few of the etiquette infractions I see during my daily workouts, it feels good to let out some pent up anger. Obviously, I want this blog to be more than simply a platform for our writers to vent, and I promise to bring more to the table going forward, but I couldn’t resist.

Extra! Extra! Read all about it!

Just not on my back you douche...

This post is for you Mr./Ms. jerk who reads the morning paper on my back. You like the news, do you? Here's a news flash, my back is not your fucking kitchen table. We all know that unless you leave your apartment at 5:30am in this city, you're going to deal with a crowded subway. Yet, somehow, this asshole sees no problem with spreading out every section of the Wall Street Journal while fiddling with their Starbucks . Oh I'm sorry, is my face getting in the way of your finance section?

Oh, and if your sitting down and reading the paper, please try not to fondle my junk with the Classifieds. While Ben & Jerry appreciate the thought, the last thing I need is a semi while staring at your dumb face with designer reading glasses.

Look, we're all crammed into the subway car like hippies at a Phish concert. It would be helpful if you and your newspaper didn't have the wingspan of Hakeem Olajuwon. The next time this happens, I hope someone stabs you with a rusty letter opener while I pour your morning OJ into the wound...with extra pulp.

Bank Robbery

I hate banks. I hate them with every part of my being. I hate them because I’m broke. I have nothing to offer them. They have nothing to offer me. And it’s been this way for the better part of ten years. But then they ruined our relationship, and here’s how. I pulled into the bank parking lot. No spots. Everyone is broke, but not a spot to be had at the bank. Something is wrong. I fill out my sad little deposit slip in the outer lobby. A check for 11 dollars that will become cash in two weeks. Fuck my life. Anyway I walk through the gates of hell and what do I see. A table set up on the bank floor, right in front of the entrance. Its 5 adorable Girl Scouts selling cookies, along with their delightful parents. These are probably the assholes that took up all the parking spots. “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies!” I used an exclamation point for a reason. They didn’t ask me a question. They asked me a demand in the form of a question, and loud enough for everyone in the bank to see what I scumbag I am. I politely respond, “Oh no thank you, I’m on a diet.” I’m not, but fuck them. I lie to strangers. Then mommy (a shade under 3 bills herself) responds with the shittiest thing I’ve ever heard. “Well, you can buy them and we send them to the troops.” You bitch. So now, you’ve left me with an ultimatum of disappointing, your kids, the Girl Scouts of America, and the troops. I told them I didn’t have any money (I lied) but I would buy some when I was done. I finish my deposit, walk over to the table and flipped the table, kicked a girl scout, and tongued the hottest mom there. Wait, I bought TWO boxes and left in shame.

Now here’s my problem. First, The Girl Scouts gotta stop. This country is full of giant people. The last thing we need is easier access to cookies. There are more than enough places to buycookies. I sure as shit don’t need to find cookies at a bank. And I don’t need them being pushed on me. And how dare you use the troops. Wanna help the troops? Donate money for bullet proof vests. I’m sure during a crisis, they’re not thinking “I could sure go for a box of Samoas”

By the way. I’m broke. I’m eating almonds for lunch. I don’t want to buy your over priced pieces of shit. Can I leave the bank without spending money. There ain’t a lot of places where this is possible. A bank used to be one them. And I'm blaming the mothers. The kids didn't think to set up shop at the bank. They wanna be at the bank on a weekend like I wanna be at the bank on a weekend. I don't ask for much out of life, but at least recognize this. I don’t want to disappoint your kids, I want to disappoint my kids. At least give me that.

By Way of Introduction

After what has seemed like endless anticipation, I am both pleased and honored to welcome you to The Third Sleeve. The purpose of this blog is to serve as a top-tier information resource for the modern-day young professional. If you appreciate sophomoric humor and offensive banter, this is also the site for you. We have a very talented and diverse staff, consisting of advertising professionals, late night talk show writers, counter-terrorism analysts, television producers, human traffickers, and hopefully even a graphic designer. As it will surely take us some time to settle into a groove and find our niche in the blogoshpere, you can expect the initial stages of this blog to be rather disjointed and chaotic. But eventually, we promise to provide you with a polished, enjoyable place to waste your time.