5-Minute Theory: Doubt = The Great Paralyzer

Put another cinco minutos on the clocko. I'll try not to go over this time.

Every one of us has a tiny demon that's drilled itself down into the depths of our brain. The Doubt Demon. He has a feathered back hair do and thinks he's the Arthur Fonzerlli of demons. I'm wasting time on this stupid description.

Doubt keeps us from doing stuff.

Doubt says: You don't really know what you want to do with your life. You don't really like ______ enough to really pursue it. Pursuing _______ costs too much money. It's impractical.

Doubt says: You're not as smart as Jonjon. You're not as spiritual as Bobbob. You can't read like they do. You'll never get it so why even try?

Doubt says: You're not qualified for _______. You don't have enough experience. People will see through you. They'll know you don't know. You'll get exposed. Then embarrassed. You need to wait. It's too early to take on _________. Take it on someday when you actually have the appropriate experience. You're simply not ready. Sorry.

Doubt says: Meryl Streep done me good.

You say: Hilarious joke, Brad.

Doubt says: They don't really think it was hilarious, Brad. It was a stupid joke. You should stop wasting everyone's time with these mega dumb posts. Where do you get off thinking you have a right to type words into the internet.

I say: Time's up.

Boca

Last week I had the amazing opportunity to shoot a video with Chef David Falk at Boca, arguably the nicest restaurant in Cincinnati. Seriously, I have the best job in the world. Two things shocked me about this experience.

1. how many people said to me after telling them I went to Boca, "Do you mean Buca Di Beppo?" Wow.
2. how good a grilled salad can be.

A quick story. Back in March I was the officiant for my friends Ryan and Carrie's wedding in NYC.


A month ago, Ryan asked me for a recommendation for the best restaurant in Cincinnati. His sister-in-law was coming to town. So I told him about Nada (also started by Chef David), Honey (in Boca's old digs in the Northside) and Senate (the hip, new kid in town). He pushed me to recommend a place that is top top notch. I told him the obvious choice is Boca. They make brussels sprouts that are so good you want to cry. But it's expensive, I told him. He said it didn't matter. His sis-in-law was a baller.

Fast forward a couple weeks from that conversation and I get (in the mail) a thank you note and a gift card to Boca from the double-crossing lying liar. No trip to Cincy for his in-law sissy. He tricked me, and I love/hate him for it.

So this Friday, Leah and I are heading out to this amazing restaurant on Ryan and Carrie. It's no Buca Di Beppo but I bet it'll do. Woop woop!

Jane Mowery, Will You Dance with Me?

Jane...this could be our jam at the reception.

"I tip on alligators and little rattle snakers"



via D.Kalbach

5-Minute Theory: Why Stuff Sucks

Put five minutes on the clock. I have another theory to not flesh out properly.

A lot of stuff sucks. It sucks that people are flipping out about the mosque down near Ground Zero. It sucks that churches are known more for hating people, places and things than loving them. Apathy sucks. Here's my theory of why this is:

Research is Dead.

Nobody does their own homework. We listen to the one guy who wrote a book about Islam who says they're all terrorists and we believe him. We tell people he's trustworthy because he used to be one. He knows. So everything he says about Muslims wanting to kill every non-Muslim must be true. We don't do any real research ourselves. We listen to the Glen Becks and Keith Olbermans and call it a day.

Religion sucks because we just inherit our beliefs and never do the research to figure out if we actually believe it ourselves. We accept our paper thin theology from our parents and do one of two things. 1. We grow apathetic and never really do anything with it besides have vague ideas of what we kind of believe. 2. We pick a few things that stand out and fight for them because in that fight we find at least a little purpose. The death or non-exsistence of personal research creates an ignorant brand of apathy and/or zealotry that leads to awkward late night bar talk or pointless pickets full of misspelled signs and bad group chantings.

I went over by four minutes. Oops. And I still didn't make sense of this un-researched theory. Lame.

Hanson All Grow'd Up

This song is ridiculously catchy. And over-the-top sunshiney and silly. Weird Al's playing tambo for bopsake. Love it.

5-Minute Theory: Boredom as a Terrorism Hatchery

Alright. I have this theory. I also have five minutes before I go to work. So rather than wait to explore said theory at a later juncture I'm gonna start the clock, spew nonsense for five minutes and then microwave some quiche.

I believe boredom is the biggest terrorism threat of our time. It happens in the factories where smart people make tons of money doing tasks that bore the absolute hell out of them. That boredom is unbearable most days. Stuck in a place of knowing they hate their job/life but liking that they can afford their pontoon boat and trips to the casino, these folks decide to numb the boredom pain. They experiment with drugs, that turns into an addiction because it's the only thing that trumps the nagging boredom. That addiction trumps their marriage and kids. Families are ruined. The boredom terrorist cell wins again.

I'm running out of time.

Churches get bored because all they do is get together once a week and wear uncomfortable clothes. They start looking for something, anything to do that'll trigger something in their brain. They need some kind of mission, action, adventure because that's what everyone needs/wants. We're hardwired that way. Somewhere, somebody says, "I'm mad about _____. We should fight to protect ______." Boredom leads to action but it's pointless, stupid action that ends up hurting everybody. How does that happen exactly? Not sure. This theory isn't fleshed out.

One minute left.

Marriage gets boring because the couple gains weight, work gets hard but boring, the tv and couch have "must see" tractor beam that dull the boredom. Couples stop talking because they're bored with the same conversation day in day out. The Internet may not be boring. Porn may be fun. An affair may be fun. Or at least new. New is good. We deserve new. We don't deserve to be bored. We work too hard to be bored. Marriage gets ruined. Kids turn into crazed maniacs that join fraternities and haze other maniacs.

My time is up. There you have it. Ungrounded theory with little to no proof. Science.

Albert's Performance Art

Albert was tired of the games. Tired of the Boxers owned by the Baxters who always made stupid comments when they got walked past his house. Fed up with the irony of the poodles and doodles and other curloodles calling him a freak. Sick of condescending stories about the Iditarod's "don't ask don't tell" policy from Iggie (short for Igloo for godsake), the pretentious poser of a Husky down the street. A statement had to be made. A billboard of sorts. "I'm a big gay dog. Get over it. Lady Gaga 4ever."

Few Thoughts...

A few thoughts from today:

Dog parks turn awkward when ladies start kicking dogs.

Sometimes the only way to convince a dog it's not ok to murder your dog is to kick it.

Sometimes I'm glad to have black lab who is anti-social and a hound with a relentless desire to escape.

Unlike the soggy squirrel "sleeping" in the street, leaves smell good when they start to die.

My hair is getting pretty close to looking like a hockey player from the 1980s.

Or a member of the Cobra Kai Dojo.

I don't think I'd sweep Daniel's leg just because Sensei said so.

I used to have karate pajamas. With a black belt even.

Poser.

I wish cheesy popcorn would put more cheesy in my belly and less on my fingers.

The Hound can't understand why I don't put cheesy in her belly.

There's a bar in Cincinnati with a Notre Dame and Xavier neon sign hanging in its window.

This makes me entertain terrorist thoughts.

Then I think, WWBED?

What would bald eagles do?

Bob Evans was the real deal.

One of these dogs just farted.

It smells like a soggy "sleeping" skunk.

Firestarters BBQ vids 1 & 2

I got a pretty good gig. This past week when we weren't eating deep fried wieners we were burning a thighmaster and garden gnome on a grill for a video. Is this real life?

Mess With The Hound and You Get Humped

Download now or watch on posterous

IMG_0579.MOV (1771 KB)

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