Reason #1,741 to Not Cheat on Your Girlfriend or Wife

I was reading the Chicago Tribune after work tonight and came across this story about how evil women truly are:

"A sticky case of revenge unfolded last week in a Wisconsin motel after a woman discovered her husband was cheating and invited three other scorned lovers to settle the score -- with Krazy Glue.

After the victim was threatened with mace, punched in the face and taunted, the mischief moved south. "

Ouch.

Yes, they used super glue. And yes they did what you think they did.

At any rate, I'm not sure if the moral of the story is don't cheat on your wife orrrrr don't get involved with a crazy broad that looks like this:

Ok I'm Back...

...at least until the sweet nectar of rigamortis-like laziness becomes too sweet to ignore. Which, let's be honest, I'm putting the over-under at 2 posts for the rest of 2009.

But anyway, I was reading cnn.com on my way home from work tonight and one of the headlines said "Tanning Beds as Deadly as Arsenic"

Well, it's official then...natural selection has finally caught up to sorority girls.

And the Public Transportation Quote of the Day goes to the lady sitting behind me on the El yelling into her cell phone:

"I ain't gonna be FREAKING my boyfriend with her right there in the bedroom with us."

Guess she never lived in the dorms.

Big Ern vs. Food

Well I'm back....again.

My little brothers are coming in town this weekend and in the spirit of Man vs. Food, we're each going to take on the Lucky's Sandwich Challenge. Three sandwiches, each stuffed with meat, french fries, tomato and coleslaw and it all must be consumed in under an hour. Sounds like a great idea. What could possibly go wrong? Truthfully my biggest fear is blowing chunks and never enjoying the taste of salami again.

One Lucky's sandwich

Despite the fact that I don't like tomatoes or coleslaw, Big Ern is going to take this challenge seriously. I did some reading and found out you're supposed to consume as much water and lettuce as possible as they both help to expand your stomach. I just polished off a gallon of water, but could only manage eating half of the 2-pound head of lettuce I bought.

In other news, I've been on a bit of a Maury Povich kick lately so I figured I'd share this link. And I'm going to Hell.

http://maurychristmas.ytmnd.com/

Man vs. Food

Move over Howie Mandel...I've found a new favorite TV show and until television executives come to their senses and bring back "I'm With Busey", Man vs. Food will have to do. The premise is a semi-overweight man who goes to restaraunts across the country to conquer different food challenges like the 7 1/2 pound Sasquatch Burger and 15 dozen oysters. Forget grad school, I've found my new career.

The Sasquatch Burger

On another note, only three more months until the biggest day of the year for Detroit Lions fans: Draft Day. Since the Lions can't draft Chuck Long again, maybe they can find a defense.

Y Ball

Well after about a six week hiatus, I rolled my ass out of bed at 5:30 this morning and made my glorious return to the Y basketball court. Why so early you ask? Well I'm not going to sugarcoat it--the 5:30 group is the most unathletic out of all of the guys who come play everyday. The noon group is littered with former college basketball players and guys who can dunk. Needless to say, I'd rather get up at 5:30 and guard a middle-aged man named Monty who wears athletic goggles. At any rate, Big Ern is a little rusty and will certainly be sore as shit tomorrow.

In keeping with our classic infomercial theme, I feel the Tiddy Bear deserves some recognition:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gw1g2yKxb0I

Thanks to Doug for bringing this one to my attention and to the guy who said "I want to be a Tiddy Bear in my second life."

The Snuggie

A blanket with sleeves. Genius. Kudos to Megan for passing this video along. I've seen infomercials for this before:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2xZp-GLMMJ0

I love how they try to rationalize owning a snuggie because your hands get trapped inside of a blanket when you try to reach for something. Are we this lazy, America? Because it takes so much effort to lift your hands out of those ridiculously heavy blankets. Honestly, I don't know how all of those old women can make quilts without scoring some 'roids.

To be honest, I'm kind of creeped out by snuggies. Is it just me or does everyone wearing a snuggie look like a member of a cult? I'm just waiting for them to cut to a scene with a snuggie-wearer sacrificing a baby.

My favorite part by far is at about 1:04 with the snuggie family high-fiving each other at the sporting event. I'm really disappointed that my entire family didn't show up at my baseball games in matching snuggies so my teammates could make fun of me for being the kid with the weird family.

On another note, I went and saw Marley and Me yesterday. It kind of made me think that Ari might not be so bad after all. A flashback to more innocent days:

Annnnnndd we're back...

The blog is back after a month long hiatus--let's chalk the delay up to utter laziness. Glimpses of the Sweatpant Era in college.

Anyway, today's a little chilly here in Chicago. I oozed out of bed this morning to discover the temperature was a scorching -10 with a wind chill of -28. And thank you Dan and Kush for your wonderful text messages reminding me of that at 8:30 this morning. Thankfully I live such an active lifestyle and never set foot outside.

On a hotter note, I've decided to grow out a mustache. It's midly creepy, which, let's be honest, is the look I was going for. It hasn't exactly gotten rave reviews. I'm just curious what will have a longer shelf life, the 'stache or "Howie Do It. "

Rumor has it Bryant Gumbel, Jr. has reached the twilight of his life. It sounds like the summer Megan let him stay with Phil, Dan and I is beginning to show--all that booze and doing those lines off Phil's weiner finally caught up to him. Farewell Bryant.

Bring Back Cocaine Wayne

So today downtown Chicago was invaded by some of the most annoying creatures known to man--yes that's right, Bears fans. My first thought was, is the Insane Clown Posse back in town again already? But then I remembered that the Bears are hosting the Saints tonight. I actually helped a couple of Bears fans with directions (sorry Kush, I should've sent them to Cabrini-Green for you). But in all honesty, no other NFL fans feel more entitled to great teams year after year as those of the Chicago Bears--the Super Bowl Shuffle was a quarter century ago, it's time to move on.

If anybody is entitled to anything, it's Lions fans. Endure 51 years with one playoff win, an 0-13 record and eight years of "Cocaine" Wayne Fontes at the helm and then come talk to me.

Seriously, he looks like he should be running a pizzeria; certainly not an NFL franchise.

A few other downtown observations:

I was walking down the Mag Mile and noticed this old man riding around in an Amigo and coming up behind people honking an air horn at them to get out of his way. Highly obnoxious, mildy entertaining.

There was also a homeless man who asked this woman walking in front of me for change. She politely declined and as soon as she turned her back, he started making obscene gestures at her with his tongue. Nice. I'm convinced that women underestimate how truly disgusting men actually are.

And memo to people who wear fur coats: you look ridiculous. Especially women with those round looking fur hats--Genghis Khan called and he wants them back. Seriously, it looks like you have a skunk wrapped around your head.

Howie Mandel, Pwner of Faces

Last night I was on the Chicago Tribune's website and they had a story titled "What's the Dumbest Thing on TV?"

If you ask me, Deal or No Deal. Hands down. Hole in the Wall...a close second.

Colin Cowherd, one of my favorite radio personalities, put it best when he said out of all the creative talent in television, Deal or No Deal is the most America can come up with? Somebody actually had the balls to walk into a top level executive meeting in New York or L.A. and say THIS is the best we've got:

There's gonna be hot women. And there's gonna be briefcases. Absolutely no skill will be involved. Hosted by Howie Mandel.

They might as well have named the show "sit here for an hour, don't think and let your brain turn into pus...hosted by Howie Mandel."

And here I thought the comedic genius' career had ended with Bobby's World. Little did I know that Rosemary actually went up to see Howie Mandel's stand up performance last year. She loves Deal or No Deal. Hated Howie's stand up though. She said she walked out once he started "talking about going to bed with his wife."

Welcome to the Thunderdome

So the governor of Illinois got arrested this morning. Mildly entertaining. Please tell me that means we can turn Illinois into a land of lawlessness. Clearly, the first order of business should be to officially change the name of Chicago to Bartertown and construct a Thunderdome in Daley Plaza.

The only rule is....there are no rules.

On another note, I had an epiphany yesterday. I'm walking around downtown and all of a sudden it occurs to me; I've never seen an Applebee's in Chicago. Medicore food. Riblet platters. Generic decor. Flare. None of it's here. I don't care what anyone says, I'm putting the blinders on and keeping hope alive that there are no Applebee's in the city of Chicago.

Face Plant

I'd like to extend a big thank you to Thorek Memorial Hospital for not salting or shoveling its sidewalk. Coming home from Alex's party last night, I slipped and hit my face on the concrete. I'm still trying to figure out how that was possible. Perhaps that last game of flip cup wasn't such a good idea after all. Luckily, the Natural Light swirling around in my brain softened the blow. I'm just pissed because my hand caught part of the impact and has temporarily rendered my thumb slightly less opposable. It's put a bit of a damper on the morning. Big Ern ANGRY!!! Rawrrr!!

Now it's taking all of my better judgment to not call some scumbag personal injury lawyer. I keep hearing this little voice in the back of my head:

"Call....Lee...free.....call...Lee...free....."

Making a Scene

I'm pretty excited--my buddies Alex, Robey and Joel are getting a keg tonight in honor of Alex's birthday. Over Thanksgiving one of our other friends, Corey, asked me if I was going to make a "scene" again like I did at one of their other parties.

Long story short, back in August they got a keg, I was about 12 flippy cup games deep and this girl made a couple racist comments about Indian people. I sort of went off on her and made a little bit of a "scene", I guess. Apparently, Big Ern doesn't mix well with alcohol, girls and racist remarks. Or maybe it's just alochol and girls. I should've learned my lesson from the notorious Krystal walk-up window incident. Meh, what can you do?

On another note, I've been expanding my culinary horizons. Here's my latest creation:

Mixed vegetables sautéed with chicken and simmered in Rogan Josh sauce and served over rice. Sort of looks like vomit, but I promise it's delicious.

Dpark Cometh

So today got off to a great start. Ari pooped on the dining room floor and I dropped my keys in the toilet. Awesome.

Talked to Dpark this afternoon and everybody's favorite used car salesman is flying in next weekend to paint the town "dude yeah right!" It'll be interesting, considering he hates the cold and turns into a Betty Buzzkill anytime the temperature drops below 45--the forecast for his visit sounds fabulous too--high of 22 and a low of 13. Suffering? You haven't seen suffering yet.

Big Ern: So it's going to be pretty cold. You got a coat, gloves, a hat, all that stuff?
Dpark: Yeah, I got all that.
Big Ern: What about a scarf?
Dpark: A scarf? No, cuz I'm not gay.
Big Ern: What? I have a scarf.
Dpark: Exactly.

Son of a bitch. I walked right into that one.

On a brighter note, I did receive my Christmas card from Megan. I set it on fire once I realized there wasn't any money inside. Kidding. Thank you Megan.

Who Ya Gonna Call?

When I was a kid, I was a ghostbuster on Halloween for about five years straight. More than anything I wanted the authentic proton pack, fully equipped with a particle thrower, trap, etc. But instead my mom took the "creative" route and made a ghostbusters costume for me--a book bag, with a telephone cord, attached to a paper towel roll.

A book bag, a telephone cord and a paper towel roll. That was my costume. Really.

Over Thanksgiving I opened up the Big Ern family archives, showed my mom a picture of me in the costume and asked for an explanation:

Big Ern: Mom, were we poor or something when I was a kid?

Mom: Haha...yeah, sort of.

Stem Cells

Once in a while, I like to take a break from discussing creepy people and basketball players that look like aliens and talk about things that have a little more relevance. That said, I'm very happy Michigan voters lifted the ban on embryonic stem cell research this month.

Now, I certainly lean to the left on most issues, but I can generally come up with an excuse for why people are conservative on certain things. But not with stem cells. If you're against stem cell research, then get off my planet. You're either really dumb, a minion of Satan or good ol' boy larva.

It's quite simple--we have an opportunity to cure so many horrible diseases, but instead, we literally throw it in the garbage. The fact that this has been an issue for so long and that it's still banned in most states is an abomination. This kind of mindset puts us in danger of falling back into the Dark Ages:

Oh, you have strep throat? Don't use antibiotics--that's black magic and witchcraft. Just go to the barber and let him drain your blood.

Follow that path and the next thing you know, the entire human race is going to be subjected to eating Applebee's and watching Full House reruns.

Heh, speaking of Full House, am I the only one who thinks it's hysterical that Uncle Joey used to hook up with Alanis Morissette? I'm just trying to wrap my head around picturing him as the subject of "You Oughta Know" and the part about going down on him in a theatre. Anyway, I'm digressing--stem cells good, Applebee's bad.

Thanksgiving Odds and Ends

So I called Rosemary (my grandma) this weekend, but apparently I didn't return her last phone call. Fire up the Rosemary guilt trip machine:

Rosemary: Hello?
Me: Hi Grandma, Happy Thanksgiving.
Rosemary: Who's this?
Me: It's Big Ern.
Rosemary: Big Ern who? How come you never called me back? I says to your mom that I don't think you love me anymore.

Can't wait for Christmas.

On another note, Ari has begun to trying to hump my mom's two female dogs. Scissor me timbers. And of course my little brother immediately starts singing Come to My Window.

Commence the Gluttony

Roll out the trough, I am officially back in Michigan for Thanksgiving.

So we're in the kitchen and my mom is telling me how Austin, one of my twin 13 year old brothers, wanted to buy a "300" poster for his room and she wouldn't let him.

Mom: "Your brother wanted to buy a poster that said 'Tonight we dine in Hell.'"
Ben (my other 13 year old brother): "Yeah, well he also had his girlfriend meet up with us at the movie we went to last Saturday."
Mom (glaring at Austin): "He better not have or else he WILL be dining in Hell."

The Light Festival

I went on Saturday. Damnit. I'm a shitty Grinch.

Later on, I went down to Cullen's, this pub in my neighborhood that I often go to.

It's a pretty busy night, there's a band playing and I'm standing up at the bar talking with Tom, another regular, when this woman in her mid-30s comes up to us.

Woman: There aren't enough guys out here dancing with us.
Tom (pointing his thumb at me): He loves to dance. Let him finish his beer and he'll be out there with you.
Woman (wraps her arms around my arm): See you in a few minutes, cutie.
Big Ern (glaring at Tom): You're a dick.

So over the course of the night this woman comes over every 15 minutes to see if my beer is gone yet. Sweet. Anyway, Tom and I continue to chat and throw them back. After a while, he brings over these two girls probably in their late 20s. Keep in mind Tom is 40, but he's a pretty good-looking guy. If you took Kevin Kline and hit him the face with the ugly stick maybe like one time, you'd have Tom. He's also in some kind of sales, so he's a pretty smooth talker.

Anyway, he brings these two girls over. I have no romantic interest in the girl I'm supposed to be talking to, but for the sake of being a wingman (and because I don't mind talking to people), I keep her entertained and chat about this or that (because we all know how quickly a girl's friend can cause things to unravel when not entertained). Talk about painful--she had the personality of Eor on sedatives. But whatever, I know my role. Eventually, Tom takes his girl on the dance floor and starts making out with her--forget that he has a long-term girlfriend in Minnesota. The important thing is, my job is done.

I go to the bathroom and when I come back, this other regular, Kevin is standing at the bar next to my beer. Fuck. This should be an adventure. Kevin is far and away the creepiest guy I've ever met. He's around 40 or so, completely bald with a shaved head, a doblè chin and is the kind of guy who begs for sex--I know, all qualities women drop their pants for, right? It's pretty incredible--I've seen him get shot down so many times then immediately move on to the next girl without skipping a beat. Nothing more attractive than a guy who will stick his dick in anything, eh ladies?

So I'm talking to him when these two women around 40 years old or so, make the mistake of entering Kevin's Halo of Creepiness (basically if you get within a 10 feet radius of him, you're getting creeped on). He quickly picks up their scent and locks in on one of them. I step back to watch the wonder of it all. It's like watching Picasso begin work on an empty canvas. Actually, it's more like watching a toddler finger paint with its own dirty diaper. I'm pretty sloppy at this point, but I felt the need to warn her friend.

Big Ern: I hope you guys have some kind of secret bat symbol or something to rescue each other because he's really creepy.

You've been warned.

After about two minutes, he says out loud, clearly within their hearing range:

"I'm getting no where with this girl. Wanna switch me?"

Hahhahaha. Ohhh man. I don't know much about girls, but I can tell you that nothing makes a woman feel more special than when you try to hit on her friend first, get shot down and then move on to her.

The Bean

I've decided that I really like the Bean. I've never been partial to it one way or the other because, well...it's a bean. But over the last few days I've walked by it a couple times and I have to say, it's grown on me. Everyone just seems happy to be around it, taking pictures and such.

On another note, I've also decided I really like Dunkin' Donuts coffee. I had a cup the other day and then stopped by and had a Starbuck's coffee later on that afternoon. No comparison. Starbuck's coffee seriously tastes like somebody pissed in it. Now, I can't speak for the lattes or the frappachinos or whatever, but when it comes to straight coffee, Dunkin' Donuts is better and it's not even close.

Big Grinch McCracken

I'm never going near Macy's. Ever. Again. The other day I'm walking downtown and all of a sudden I get a horribly splitting headache. Normally this only occurs when a Dave Matthews song comes over the radio but this time it was because I was standing in front of the Macy's Christmas Fortress, surrounded by ridiculously over the top holiday crap. Trumpets, teddy bears, nutcrackers and jolly tourists taking pictures with all that garbage; I could feel the lifeforce slowly being sucked from my body.

I hate Christmas.

On a brighter note, I saw Quantam of Solace and Slumdog Millionaire this week and recommend both.

Slumdog Millionaire is probably the best movie I've seen since the Dark Knight. If you get a chance to see it, go. It's a limited release, so those of you in Jackson and Knoxville are probably screwed, but for everybody else, watch it...great movie.