Archive for May, 2008

I’m goin’ goin’ goin back back back to Cali Cali Cali.

Posted in Uncategorized on May 28, 2008 by Paulie Danger

Okay, I’m not going to California.  But I am going to Bed-Stuy (do or die) this weekend.  My buddy lives down in Brooklyn a few blocks from where Biggie came up.  So I’m going to hit the NYC this weekend.  I’m taking the BoltBus.  On board WiFi and power outlets.  $10 round trip?  I’m sold.

Now, if I can find my camera, I may be able to post some pictures.

Eventually, I’ll get into a groove of updating daily.  Can’t force it though.  Kind of like buttsecks.  You start to force it and bad things happen.


Female Gamers

Posted in gaming on May 24, 2008 by Paulie Danger

In the last six months I’ve gotten very involved in the eSports (professional video gaming) community.  One thing about it bugs me.  I mean, aside from all the mop-top haircuts that the teenagers are sporting these days.

What really bugs me is that video gaming is a competitive event that men and women can compete on equal footing in.  But despite that women are still pooled together.  There are womens Counter-Strike competitions, and all female clans, and the CGS even has male & female DOA brackets.  But men have no inate advantage in gaming.  Being physically larger than (most) women does not give me an upper hand when Kasumi-Chan is beating down on me on DOA4.  Nor does it give me an advantage when I’m getting double tapped in the dome by PMS’s Halo players.

The problem is really two fold, though.  Not only is the “old boys” mentality of “women don’t belong in gaming” being applied, making competitive gaming uncomfortable to some women who are harrased for being female.  But some are holding women up on a pedestal.  They are elevating otherwise average gamers to pro status simply because they are women.

I think it’s time we dump the all-girl CS competitions, and let women fight it out on the same turf the men fight on.  Let the top talent rise to the top based on their talent, and not thier assets.  The top female players are just as good as the top male players.  And if we’re all fighting on the same playing field, then sponsorships and entries will go to the best.  Not the best women, or the best men.  But the best.

I’m Personally Offended by the Toyota Prius (and other stuff)

Posted in random on May 23, 2008 by Paulie Danger

I was driving my six cylinder Dodge Dakota 4×4 to work the other night when a Toyota Prius drove by with a vanity plate that read “43 MPG” and I had the urge to run him off the road.  There’s something about that car that personally offends me.  Whenever I see a Prius I have to fight the urge to kick a door panel in.  It almost feels like it’s better than us because it gets 43 miles per gallon.  But it’s an ugly looking car.  So fuck you and you wierd truck design, Toyota Prius.

I realized yesterday that I shouldn’t let women set me up on dates.  It happened last weekend, one of my ex’s that I’m actually still cool with set me up.  It was looking pretty good.  My ex knows me pretty well, knows what I like.  And even had it set-up very low key.  We were going to meet out at her birthday party at a karaoke bar.  She even gave me a  “He’s a greay lay” endorsement, which goes farther than you’d think with women.

But I get to the bar, and this chick is a train wreck.  I almost gave me girl the “this is what you think I like” talk.  But it was her birthday, so I sucked it up and played along.  Fortunately there was no blood shed.  But it took me a while to realize exactly why it happened this way.  Women are insane.  We all know this.  And even though she wants me to be happy, she doesn’t want to see me with anybody better than her.  Its sort of like when you guy somebody a lottery ticket for Christmas.  You want to make the effort, but you’ll be really pissed if they win.  Plus, if I hook up with this chick and it doesn’t work out, am I just going to get passed to the next girl in the group?  Do I want to be the clique slut?  Usually, I’d be okay with that, but I like hanging out with some of these chicks, and there’s something very uncomfortable about being in a group of people who have seen you naked at different times.

Is it wrong that I want to get into a fight and hit a guy with a telephone so I can yell, “Can you hear me now?”

New Animated Star Wars Movie from LucasArts

Posted in movies on May 22, 2008 by Paulie Danger

LucasArts is releasing an animated film in August called The Clone Wars.  Personally, I think they should have left the animation to Genndy Tartakovsky.  But what do I know?

Philly Teams are Killing Me.

Posted in sports on May 21, 2008 by Paulie Danger

We are officially 25+ years without a championship.  The Flyers had an awesome run, but came up short.  So now the last time this city celebrated a meaningful professional sports championship was when I was five.

But what’s more dissapointing is the fact that the Flyers won’t be facing the Stars in the finals.  And it’s not because the Red Wings are “OH god we’re going to get swept again” scary.  It’s that just once I wanted to hear a “Dallas sucks” chant at a Flyers game.  And you know it would have happened.

Now I have to trust that Uncle Charlie won’t completely screw things up in September.

This is going to be a long summer.

Frank Nitti’s Famous

Posted in food, work on May 20, 2008 by Paulie Danger

In the three places I’ve worked in my adult life, I’ve noticed that guys that work together tend to eat together.  There’s a little comraderie with sharing food at work with the guys you work with.  Especially if it’s the kind of job where you eat on top of of something that’s not a lunch table.  It’s the first place a new employee really becomes part of the crew.  It’s where you start to share your personal life.  I’ve heard many stories about my coworkers while breaking bread.  It’s also one of the last initiation rites.  You’re officially part of the crew when they share the crew food with you.

Every group has their food.  At my first job with the Census it was Arby’s, at UPS it was the buffalo chicken pizza – which sounds disgusting, but truth be told there should be rehab clinics set up specializing in this pie.  But here at my current office, the crew food is becoming the Frank Nitti.

Now Frank Nitti historically was one of Al Capone’s crew who flipped on Al and helped Eliot Ness and the Untouchables put him away.  In modern terms the Frank Nitti is a white five cheese pizza.  The origional Frank Nitti was plain, and was termed the prototype.  The Frank Nitti 1.0.  Today we experimented with the Frank Nitti 1.1 with the addition of some shredded sausage.  The pizza was good.  And when I tell you good, I mean it was so good I can imagine a brick front store somewhere in South Philly with a green white and red sign reading “Frank Nitti’s Famous”.  Half the menu being your standard pizzeria fare, the other half being The Frank Nitti in all it’s glorious variations.  The Veggie Nitti with thinly sliced tomatoes and broccoli, the Chicken Nitti with chunks of fried chicken.  Maybe even a Sauce Nitti, a more traditional pizza.  But true patrons of Frank Nitti’s Famous would only order a Frank Nitti.  The origional, the prototype.  A plain Nitti.  And we would be worth a million damn dollars.

The only problem is the name.  Calling it Frank Nitti’s Famous is just an invitation for mobsters.  And honestly, I’d be okay with our place becoming a gangster hang-out.  I’ve got no problems with my Italian brothers and sisters.  But the IRS would be crawling all over the place, and pizza joints are a cash business.

I still think there’s a fortune to be made under a sign that reads “Frank Nitti’s Famous Pizza”.  Our motto would be “Fuck New York AND Chicago, pizza starts here.”

So Say We All

Posted in family, television on May 17, 2008 by Paulie Danger

I know, I know.  It’s Friday, and not even the geekiest of geeks is online reading blogs.  Particularly this one.  But Eric at Geekadelphia posted a link to, which launches Admiral William Adama’s presidental campaign.

And the great campaign poster they’re using as a splash page gives me a chance to talk about two things.  First of all, it gives me an opportunity to announce that Battlestar Galactica is the best written television show in the history of the world.

Secondly, it let’s me talk about television and my mom.  Somewhere along the line we developed similar tastes in television.  I got her hooked on Sports Night, Battlestar Galactica and American Dreams.  She turned me on to The West Wing, Two and a Half Men and Boston Legal (Denny Crane).  But TV shows have played a really bizzare role in my relationship with mom over the last two or three years.

For a good long while after I moved out of her house, I would go back on Sundays, and we’d marathon TV show DVD’s.  First it was Sports Night, then Murphy Brown, and a few others.  And it was nice to hang around and just relax and watch TV in a very familiar place.  That was until about last July.

My mom spent the first week of July in Isreal.  On one of her first days overseas I saw American Dreams s.1 on DVD.  I remember the show from several years ago.  Basically, it follows a ficional Irish Catholic family in Philadelphia in the late 60’s.  The oldest son is a football star in the Catholic League, the oldest daughter becomes a dancer on American Bandstand, and the youngest son has polio.  It’s really an excellent show, and stars Brittany Snow, who despite her porn-star-esque name, is usually cast in very sweet and/or innocent roles.  By the way, it’s really a crime that season 1 is the only year available on DVD.

Anyway, in the middle of my mom’s trip to Isreal my grandfather became very ill.  I won’t get into the details, but he suffered a stroke and passed away just a few weeks later.

When my mom got home from her trip, my life was in complete break down.  I was going to work, going to the hospital, and getting a couple hours of sleep somewhere.  And when mom got home we got into this routine where when I was done work in the morning, I’d pick her up.  We’d get breakfast and then go to either the hospital or hospice.  We’d spend a few hours there and then come home and we’d watch an episode or two of American Dreams.

And when I tell you that the hour or two we watched of American Dreams was the only semblance of normal life I had last July, I am not exaggerating.

So now, as much as I love American Dreams, and as much as I crush on Brittany Snow, I have a tough time watching it now because of everything that was going on around me when I watched it.  And since then I haven’t gone to mom’s house to marathon a TV show.

Now, how did I get from Edward J Olmos to Brittany Snow via the Wailing Wall?  I don’t know.  My mind doesn’t work like most.  I keep trying to RMA the thing, but I didn’t get the extended warranty.

I keep trying to search for that Kevin Arnold moment.  That one little nugget of coming-of-age-wisdom, and I’m sitting here at work next to a truck driver that reminds me of my grandfather, and I’m trying to think of something poigniant to say.  But words all of a sudden escape me.

So I’ll leave it at that.  Kind of The Soprano’s style ending. 

Que my theme song.