NEIGHBOR-HOODS

Beer count: I'm gonna say it's up to about 48. I had 4 the other night in the city while attneding a fund-raiser (they got no funds out of me, though) and had about 8-9 at the Big St. Paddy's Day party on Saturday.

Either I'm getting older, or I'm just a drunk or I have no life (or all of the above), but that damn party is one of my favorite days of the year. The dude who runs it has a great party house if you have kids. He has this downstairs room where they pretty much entertain themselves for hours while the parents stay upstairs, drinking, eating, golfing and watching hoops.

Now, I did get ripped by a guest at the party and the dude was absolutely right. I arrived wearing my Guiness pants and a Guiness hooded sweatshirt. However, I wasn't in the mood to drink the stuff, so I was pretty much drinking Miller Lite all night. Some dude called me on it, pretty much saying how could a walking Guinness ad drink Miller Lite. I realized he was right, so I had 1 Guinness and then stopped drinking. Awful job by me.

SPeaking of hooded sweatshirts, I have a piece of advice for anyone out there. If you spend a lot of time at work on the phone, don't wear a hooded sweatshirt. It becomes a real pain in the ass, especially if you have one of those neck things on your phone that prevents Frezzaitis. Of course, on Sundays, I usually bust out the hoody and get easily frustrated.

Now, picking up my homeowners rant from the last post, I just spent $150 today on lawn care stuff and can estimate at least another $150 to go before I can spend 8 hours Saturday and 8 hours Sunday trying to make my grass look good. Of course, no matter how hard I work and how much I spend, it will look good until about mid-July, when New Jersey becomes a dry, barren wasteland and all grass turns to hay. I'm thinking of having the cement dude just pave over the whole yard and can build a hoop court in the backyard.

Anyway, Opening Day just 7 days away, but as long as the Rangers are in the hunt for the Cup, I'm not too fired up for baseball, yet.

PRESSING YOUR LUCK

From the huge-story-of-the-week-that-completely-slipped-under-the-radar file, did anyone see last week that former "Press Your Luck" host Peter Tamarkan was killed in a small plane crash last week. It happens. However, Tamarkan and his wife - who was also killed - were on their way to pick up a cancer patient and fly him to a special clinic as part of a charity deal.
Can you fucking believe that? Not only does that suck for Tamarkan and his dame, imagine how the cancer dude feels? Talk about being jinxed. I guess all three of them got the ultimate whammy.

A few other thoughts:

If you don't own a house, don't start now. I just wrote a check for 2Gs for a new sidewalk. A sidwalk. It's not something me and family can enjoy on a hot summer afternoon or I can show off to friends and family.

I had to get it done because my old sidewalk was cracked and at parts, uneven. Basically it was a risk in case some kid wiped out on his scooter and his money-grubbing parents decided to cash in. Don't laugh. A few years ago in my neighborhood, some kid got hit in the mouth with a Wiffle ball bat (that's right a Wiffle ball bat), in the backyard of a friend. Now get this, it wasn't even the yard of the kid who swung the bat, so the parents of the kid who got hit with the bat sued the homeowner's insurance company of the people who's yard it happened in and that of the people who's kid did the swinging. I assume they won since the dude hardly works yet owns a brand-new SUV and just installed a huge above-ground pool in his yard. What a great country we live in.

Speaking of our great county, nothing makes me more irate than when the AP moves a Top 5 list of the top songs, TV shows and DVD rentals in this fine land. First, the TV. Every week, American Idol is No. 1 and No. 2. HOw can this be? Are Americans that dumb that they have to watch some English dude rip wannabe stars two nights a week. Doesn't anyone read anymore?

Then, there the song lists. I don't recognize any of the songs and/or artists and it's not because I'm old, it's because I don't listen to Hot97. Honestly, I know 80's pop music - for the most part - is pure shit, but damn, it's better than this crap being put out these days. I mean, I'll take Karma Chameleon any day of the week over this crap.

As for movies/DVDs. It's scary how many kids movies and DVDs rule the roost. It's pretty much because parents would rather have Spongebob and Barbie babysit their kids (I'd love to have Barbie babysit my kids, by the way, HEY NOW) instead of watching them themselves. By the way, as I type this, my kid is on Hour 3 of Dora the Explorer.

Anyway, a few rants after giving a big check to dude for putting concrete all over my front yard.

Happy Spring to all.

WHO DOES NO. 2 WORK FOR?

Beer Count: I'm estimating it's about 30-35 right now after a wild St. Paddy's day.

It started out kinda slow, first taste around 2:30 on Friday. About 11 hours later, I was cooked. So cooked, that when I woke up Saturday morning, I immediately remembered why I quit drinking in the first place.

First of all, I felt like complete crap. Speaking of crap, let's just say the Guinness that exited my arse Saturday morning looked exactly like the Guinness I was pouring down my throat Friday night. Same color, consistency, stench.

And then, about 2 hours later, I was trying to cut down a big bush in my first yard and I swear I almost passed out.

As for Friday night, my buddy Gerry and I hit the local Irish bar in town. Things were going pretty well, when - on about my 9th Smithwicks, I started yapping with some tired broad and she brought up how much she loved the Yankees. Now, I can spot a fake yankee fan a mile away, and she was one. Of course, in my drunken state, I had to make her prove what a great Yankee fan she was, and therefore put her to the test.

Question 1: What is Derek Jeter's number?

Her answer: Complete silence.

Now, had I been completely sober, I would've ripped her a new one. So, needless to say, I friggin hammered her. About 45 minutes later, she was telling me to f--c off and so on and so forth. I was quite proud of myself.

On the way home from the bar, another friend informed me that not only was the dame a psychopath, but she is the person who is in charge of hot lunches at my daughter's school, and I should be prepared to make a lot of PB&Js the rest of her grammar school career.

So with that guilt on my aching head Saturday morning, I swore I was giving up drinking for a long time. The problem is, I have a big St. Paddy's Day party to attend this Saturday. It will be a real test. My goal is to not have a drink until Memorial Day weekend, but that could all go to hell around 3:30 p.m. this Saturday.

Stay tuned for more details.

IMITATION OSCAR

Beer count: 14

After watching last night's Oscars, I realized two things.
1. I'm so glad I don't go to the movies that much anymore, because if Crash is the best movie of last year, I'm not missing anything.

2. The best actor/actress category has to be refined.
This second one comes from my friend Joe, who brought up a great point last night. He says people who portray famous people in a movie shouldn't be eligible for an Oscar. And you know what, he's right. I mean, Reese Witherspoon and Phil Hoffman did a nice job, but really all they are doing is imitating someone famous. All they had to prepare for their role was watch film of the person and do whatever they did. Piece of cake. I mean, Jim Carrey had to come up with character of Lloyd Christmas all by himself. All HOffman did was imitate Capote. I'm sure somewhere Rich Little is kicking himself somewhere, realizing he could've won about 100 Oscars in his prime.
Plus, if you play someone famous, and do it well, most movie-goers are blown away by your performance because they have a point of reference to judge your performance against.

Now, back to Crash. If you haven't seen it - DON'T. Ir you really want to, don't read on. If you have seen it, my biggest complaint is the movie is too far-fetched. I mean, of the thousands of cops running around L.A., how it is that Matt Dillon pulls over a dame one night and the next day, he's the first cop on call when she's involved in an accident. And for Ryan Witherspoon, the same thing happens to him. I mean, that wouldn't happen in a town of 15,000 people, let alone L.A. It was too forced, too coincidental. I think Oscar voters would rather come off as homophobic than racist and that's why this flick won instead of Brokeback.

To me, the best movie of last year was "Batman Begins" but that's just me.