<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d7975581\x26blogName\x3ddude.man.phat.\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://dudemanphat.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://dudemanphat.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d7207671847687028943', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

paris is more beautiful-er than you...

Tuesday, August 31, 2004

i once interviewed paris hilton right before the first season of "Simple Life."

it wasn't really like talking to a wall. but maybe a wall with lipstick and high cheekbones? i started switching it up and asking her non-serious questions at the end.

"are you really an alien?" then i leaned in really close.

"just kidding."

but i really wasn't. but of course...she didn't know that.

i am jack's caffeine fix...

Monday, August 30, 2004
man i drink a lot of freakin' coffee.

before my current job, i wouldn't drink coffee because i'm usually hyper enough as it is. that's why my mom tried to limit me from drinking soda (or pop, if you like it) as a kid. if there were rafters, you knew where to find me.

but now, i drink coffee (2 to 3 cups) in the morning at 9 am when i get to work and at about 4 pm for the afternoon fix (again, 2 to 3 cups.) and it's freakin 8o degrees outside. i can't imagine what the wintertime might bring. 60 degrees and i'll be drinking 5 cups an hour to handle the "cold."

unfortunately, i also talk a lot more after i drink my coffee. i want to congregate around the water cooler and talk about stuff, like bad reality shows and exhanging recipes, anything, etc. "man, how bout that olympic marathon runner? hillary clinton, huh. what a hottie! man, coffee is DA BOMB. you heard me. DA BOMB!"

i've also stunted my growth at 6 foot 5 inches. that hurts.

in other news, i've taken up golf...



This might be the funniest Monday morning story I've ever read. Monkeys are never not funny.

don't drink and dance...

Friday, August 27, 2004


The more I see this Red Stripe commercial with this guy teaching the white guy how to dance, the more I LOVE it.

I want the song on mp3 so I can play it before going out...

"doo doo doo doo doo, doooo!"

p.s. Jenna was oozing with intellectualism last night at Book Soup. It was epic. (pic via Mystery Dawg)

today's thoughts on porn stars writing books...

Thursday, August 26, 2004
Roommate: Jenna Jameson's signing her new book at Book Soup tonight.

Me: You have to be kidding me? There's going to be lots of skeezy porn guys there. How am I going to get her to sign a copy with all those 40-year-old, married, fat bald buys trying to ooze by me?

Roommate: So you're not going?

Me: Oh I'm going. It's just going to be really sweaty. I might have to wear long sleeves.

kool for the gang...

Wednesday, August 25, 2004

i spent about 10 minutes looking through the new flavors of kool-aid last night because i want to "make a difference" at a very special house party this weekend. i eventually chose the above.


anything that tingles in your mouth + vodka = definite smashing through walls to the surprise of everyone


addressed circa 1605...

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

dear sir francis bacon,

although i appreciate your works and your numerous additions to the renaissance as a whole, your fatty pork product has caused a chasm in my apartment. you see, my roommate is on the atkins diet and eats bacon every night, night after night, for supper. so much that i'm surprised that it doesn't ooze from his pores every evening as he has sex with his extremely skinny Indian girlfriend, who is also, coincidentally, on Atkins and bacon-stuffed.


i'm not asking you to change your name or anything. heavens no. i'm just asking to please write a literary journal denouncing atkins in your time (circa 1605). by the time your word reaches my time, it will be prose or maybe even an amendment. i know this will severely limit your diet and the diet of others but it's all for the best. thanks for your time and mad ups to ms. bacon.


i need to learn spanish...

we did it.

my roommate and I cut off all ties with comcast cable. it was bound to happen. firstly, LA cable is a joke. our cable box was always on the fritz and our comcast-approved remote control was shot putted into our living room wall three months ago. since then, it's sat solemnly on our coffee table as a delicate reminder of why conducting your own olympics competitions in your apartment space can have dire consequences.

i'm not really that sad even. but everyone around me looks at me like i've strangled their puppy when i tell them i have no cable.

"not even basic?"
"no HBO?"
"what are you going to do?"
"i hate you."

on a more happy side note, somehow we still get about 4 spanish-language stations. i watched a whole half-hour of something or other last night because even the car informercials are sexy.

stuck in call limbo...

Monday, August 23, 2004
this is why i hate phones.

if i were amish, this wouldn't happen. i would just walk across the village to see her. or a horse-drawn carriage.

but i met one of the most beautiful girls i've ever seen in person friday night. of course, she was a waitress. and i was like the fly and she was like fly paper. i know i said words to her. i hoped they were strewn together into complete sentences, complete thoughts, etc. i gave her my phone number in a state of complete spontaniety just because i didn't want to hear her answer if i was to ask hers.

she called the next night. at 11:57 p.m. wanting to hang out. where was I? at a bar. with my phone not on vibrate.

i wanted to punch myself in the face.

don't talk to me...

Friday, August 20, 2004
i was talking to a female friend's "boyfriend" at a concert last night.

he started talking about how tough he was in high school, college and now. he was flexing mc flexing, talking about carbs, diets and carb diets and i kinda nodded off. then he dropped the phrase "going to have to kick ass and take names."

i said, "it's much more hard-core to kick the ass and make someone else take the names."

from the look on his face, i think his brain must have shorted.

tray tables and upright positions...

Thursday, August 19, 2004


top 10 reasons why flying makes me tres uncomfortable

10. i saw final destination. now anytime i fly planes, take showers, walk near buses or railroads or see devon sawa on the street, i scream. like a silent high-pitched scream that warns small squirrels and deer.

9. i always get sat right next to the looney tunes. i can't make last night's adventure up. i sat next to a nearly 5 foot latino woman who was holding a 4 foot tall pink plush bunny when i sat down. luckily, no one sat down between us and she gave him his own seat and belt buckle. i swear the bunny was laughing at me.

8. i am 6 foot, 2 inches tall. yep.

7. my last girlfriend was intent on joining the mile-high club. it was the single most terrifying and simultaneously the single most hilarious thing i have ever attempted. it kinda reminded me of that scene from "indiana jones and the temple of doom" in which indiana and short round are in that bug-filled trap and the spikes are coming down and it's really intense and the heroine is screaming...but with sex.

6. last night, i realized i need an IPOD stat. trying to find suitable tunes on the airplane radio station, i stumbled on some sort of alternate-90's, we-really-don't-care-where-they-are-know radiostation. i heard kriss kross's "jump," sir mix-a-lot's "baby got back," tag team's "whomp there it is" and right said fred's "i'm too sexy." back to freakin back. i was horrified but i COULD NOT change the channel.

5. a couple years ago, they stopped serving meals. not that big a loss. but last year, they stopped serving peanuts. they instead started serving salty pretzels. luckily, they downgraded yet again. last night, they gave me some water and a salt packet. i felt like such a supermodel.

4. my one time ever flying first class was tinged with sadness. after a long set of events, i was laid over in LAX for seven extra hours. american airlines gave me an upgrade and a $10 certificate to McDonald's. have you ever tried to spend $10 at McDonald's. it's virtually IMPOSSIBLE. i told the girl my order and I had only $3 spent. i didn't want to waste it. i was ordering things i'd never heard of, giving away apple turnovers and chocolate chip cookies to little kids, etc. i felt like willy wonka in a way that i was making all the kids in LAX happy with sugary joy. but once i got onto the plane, i instantly passed out from sugar, slept the whole way and missed out on all the first-class trimmings.

3. i get really bored really fast. and since i am constantly in varying degrees of uncomfortability (maybe a word?), i have to amuse myself somehow. it usually involves drinking. last year, i got a bunch of southwest (ugh!) drink coupons for my xmas flight home. bunch=15 or so drinks. after drinking 4 in the first hour and a half, i started buying my entire row drinks. guess who was the man with the master plan on that particular flight??

2. (I blanked out for a second and forgot this entire number)

1. two words. some syllables. baggage claim.

itty bitty pic of me...

Monday, August 16, 2004

Daggum it, this picture is small. I must figure out to largenize it.

I've caught the blog fever. And the only way to cure it...