I'm a Nerd

So say I in the Philadelphia City Paper.

Ron Burgundy Tries Out for ESPN

Some days I don't have time to write...let me rephrase that, some days I am too lazy to write.

But I'm never too lazy to post funny videos. Witness the legendary Ron Burgandy's audition for ESPN



Thanks YouTube and Eoin!

Robotdancin'

OK, I am a big fan of robot dancing. It's my secret fetish. I have Robotdancin' magazines and videos. I even have an old 16mm from the early 50's. Back then, robots were feared and misunderstood. They had to use robot only bathrooms and drink robot only oil. And they were as big as a room! Nowadays robots are more understood. But they still dance...they dance so that they never forget.

We humans try to interpret their circuiturial rhythmns. Most of the time we look foolish -- after all we are made of soft flesh, not double-bolted steel with 360 degree rotating arm joints (model no. 2345-KT). But sometimes we humans get it right.



I found this on YouTube and thought it was cool. Now the first kid is good, but the second kid Johnny Five's his ass!

DIE ACTOR, DIE - Springsuit Edition

It was so fun last time, we decided to do it again!

DIE ACTOR, DIE is back. After a long hiatus (for no other reason other than we were busy) Don and Dawn return to host a night of stand-up and comedy featuring some of Philly's favorite actors, improvisers and performers.

Actually, Dawn is off being an actress in California, so Don will be joined by none other than his birthday buddy: PETE PRYOR!

This month's performers include:

Tony Lawton
Eoin O'Shea
Nathan Holt
Fred Andersen
Stephanie Roberts
Betsy Herbert
Julia Frey

Plus you never know who may show up!

What: DIE ACTOR, DIE -- Hosted by Don Montrey and Pete Pryor
When: Sunday, March 26th @ 8:30 PM
Where: Fergie's Pub 1214 Sansom Street
How Much: $5

Come early! Our last show was so full we had to turn people away.

Group Mind Fart

This Monday was President's Day (I hope you all sent your President a card and "Best President Ever" Gift bouquet!). As such, it was a national holiday. All government workers had the day off. Postal workers, spies, and garbage men.

Our day for trash pick-up is Wednesday. So like a good neighbor who hates the smell of rotting garbage, I put the trash our Tuesday night. As did every other house on the block. As a mathematical equation it breaks down like this:

Wednesday = Trash Day

Simple and precise. Color me "whu???-ed" when, while I was walking home, I saw our trash can still out and un-picked-up. It was then that I realized "Duh!" President's Day means trash pick-up is a day later. My "Good Will Huntingesque" mathematical freak-mind formulated it this way:

President's Day > Trash Day = Trash Pick-up + 1 Day

The interesting thing is that everyone on else on the block had made the same error. A communal "whoopsie" if you will. It breaks down like this:

Neighbors x number of houses + Presidents' Day - comprehension/cluelessness = Smelly Neighborhood

Fascinating. I should publish this.

That's My F&*$%n' seat!

So I take the R6 into Con-sho-hock-en every morning for work. I enter the front car using the door adjacent to the conductor (that's train talk for "driver") and I sit in the front left seat. This is my routine. This is my life.

Today a woman ruined my life.

No she didn't break my heart or make me look small like so many of her gender have in the past.

She took my seat.

Now, she didn't know it was my seat. Had she seen me sitting in it for the past 92 work days she might have thought: "Hey that's his seat. I'll sit somewhere else."

BUT NO!!!!!

She sat there as if it was hers for the taking. As if I hadn't looked forward to stretching out (there is no seat in front of my favored seat, see?) my long legs not yet awake from a long night's sleep, as though the ride by the mighty Schyukill doesn't calm my addled and over wrought brain. No young lady, I don't let the soothing sounds of the two Hispanic construction workers lull me to sleep like a mother's lullaby.

How could she know all this? Why would she know all this? After all she's a self-centered bitch who took MY seat on MY train in MY city!!!!!!

GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!!!!!!!

So I sat on the right side about 5 seats back. It was just as good.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: F&*$%n' is cartoon for "Fuckin'"

The King of Glory Comes

Maybe it's because I'm a Stephen Colbert fan...

Maybe it's because I'm a dance fan...

Maybe it's because I'm a Catholic hymn fan...

Regardless, this amuses me to no end.

Thanks to The Apiary!