Story Time

... and that's the last time I mix bourbon with toilet water!



Oh, sorry my faithful reader, I didn't notice you there. I was just finishing up a children's story. You should always end with a lesson.



So, one of my good friends came up to me after the last blog and said, "Papa Bear, maybe you should only post when you have something to say."

Well... my ex-friend was right, and from now on, after this post, I will no longer try to conjure up random bits of information from my drab and boring existence to entertain you.



But, while you're already here, let me tell you about roughly what happened on my less than exciting yester eve.

I walked out of the office after dark with a FedEx package that needed to get shipped ASAP. But lo and behold, right outside of my building, there was some sort of religious lighting ritual for a giant ceremonial tree. It was cold, so I lost feeling in my extremities and because of the commotion and the enormous crowds, I was unable to move for over one minute and forty five seconds, (though it felt like two minutes and twelve seconds.) The haggard bearded hippy next to me looked like he was standing there for far longer, especially when I peered over and saw him nibbling on my hand. After I managed enough space to escape from the cannibal, I just booked it. Old people, children, the disabled, you name it, I was pushing them out of my way. I was like a real live action hero. At one point I knocked over an entire family like bowling pins.
Maybe, you're sitting there judging me for my actions, but if you have ever had to fight through a mob of families, played one of those shoot'em up videogames, or been to Fairway in NYC, you would have been right there with me, laughing at all the people I knocked over, and mocking their feebleness while trying to take their fish sandwiches. (Note: Tourists on the floor will not easily give up their fish sandwiches, even if you give them a hand to pretend to help them up. Maybe they didn't use my hand because of the nibble marks and the blood. Tsk. Typical.) Meanwhile, I still had to deliver the package, but by the time I got to my secondary FedEx location (because the crowds prevented me from getting to the primary location), the place was closed. So I called up FedEx, (a quality organization, so please don't sue me,) and for 15 minutes, they send me to three additional sites in one direction and then another and then another, and I found myself wondering: with their sense of direction, how does anything get anywhere on time? Finally, after 20 additional minutes of walking, I found a suitable drop-point and delivered the good. Of course, FedEx shipped the package on time because it is an awesome efficient company and it's magic. I then proceeded to go home, watch my PTI (to boost my manliness), proceeded to Pushing Daisies (a fantastic, genre-bending show and deserving of its own series of blogs), and then Gossip Girl, (Serena played an excellent drunk), and followed it up with the film Rescue Dawn, which was solid, but only because of another stellar Bale performance. Then, I went right to bed to watch some TV before going to sleep.



In case you're wondering, the truth was in there, it was just surrounded by imagination. I don't even eat fish.



Notes:

1) I don't care how much you dislike Bees or how much you like "Curb", Jerry Seinfeld WAS Seinfeld.

1a) Don't ever do karaoke to the song "Potato, Potato... Tomato, Tomato."

2)



I'll be non-grata for the next few days because of a trip I'm taking to that Florida destination, but no we are not getting a convertible; we are getting the next best thing, an SUV. Wish me luck at the Loser Bowl.



God bless all of you and happy holidays,
Your trusty life coach,
ME, The Papa Bear



Sponsored by FedEx (just kidding... unless they pay me.)

Happy Anniversary

Dear [insert your name here],

As the one week anniversary of this blog arrives, I welcome you to look back on all of the fond memories this blog has produced for you over the past week.

But, MY mind is preoccupied. Sure, at work, I focus on work, but you must be wondering what am I thinking about outside of work. Am I focusing my attention on all the suffering in the world or the great joys that life has to offer? If I was, I wouldn't tell you. But if I wasn't focusing on these things, I would start my next sentence with "no" or "instead".

Instead, I am focusing on how I just purchased cones (little orange ones) for a football game I am organizing a week from Saturday. This coming weekend, I am flying to a destination in Florida, taking my first vacation in two years. A friend who is going to be there told me that we are renting a convertible to really live up the experience. We are also going to the "Loser Bowl" (TM) to watch the Miami Dolphins try to get their first win against the magnificent New York Jets.
The weekend that follows, I am going to hang out with awesome kids (not related to football), then play football, and then enjoy some drinking festivities. In the process, I am merging several different groups of friends that could potentially be awesome or awful. But, what am I thinking about? What's got me all hyped? The purchase of the mini-cones and the prospect of laying them out over a fresh field of grass. Sure, I bought a football too and that's cool, but laying out the cones... that's gonna be sweet.

I am probably going to play the game for a few hours, but that means, as a receiver, I will only touch the ball (i.e. drop the ball), at most a few times. Yet, the memory of laying out the cones... that lasts a lifetime. But, probably since I bought the cones, I'll have someone else lay them out.

Many people asked me over the course of this past week, "why did you start a blog?" Actually, that person asked me, "why did YOU start a blog?" They, (he) meant, what did I have to contribute to the "blogosphere"? And after hours of thought and consideration, after pondering and searching my soul for meaning, this is my answer... I like cones, and I want the world to know it. Other people have asked me why I started the blog now? And my response to that question required no thought at all... Because in these times of turmoil, when terrorists seek to destroy the very fabric of our society, somebody has to write about my appreciation of cones, and with me being myself and available for the job, I decided to carry that mantle. Regardless of the danger or controversy involved, you will be able to read about the things I appreciate, (unless someone pays me not to write about myself, hint hint,) (or if I get bored).

Other people have requested to add to my blog, and of course, they are welcome to add to the blog, in the comments section, where, pending approval, their words will be subject to my scrutiny and my wrath (which is actually a lot like my scrutiny).

The sad part is, that I am already growing weary of writing this stupid blog, and without feedback and comments, I am probably going to start ranting in essay format about how our society's celebration and romantization of pirates has ruined and will continue to ruin our culture (which is true, and hopefully tonight's episode of Bones will tell us more). Stupid pirates. And, yes, that is a very real threat to both you and to pirates.

On that note, I will say my farewells. I believe in this blog, and if I can maintain funding, I hope to continue writing for this blog next week and maybe even a few weeks after that.

So, enjoy your Tuesday, and I will write to you again soon.
My adoring fan,
ME

Thanks Again

Dear Diary,


So, it's Thanksgiving time again: the time of year when everyone gathers together to appreciate how awesome their stuff is: so allow me to start. My stuff is awesome. I have a nice sized TV, a sweet couch, and an apartment I fit into lengthwise.


I am thankful for my first fan who came up to me in the supermarket (a.k.a. the adult section of the videostore, which I watch for the articles), and said "aren't you that Papa guy who blogs"? Of course, I played it cool and giggled. (Though now that I heard it out loud, I wonder why I didn't title myself Papa Smurf, who had more personality than Papa Bear). He looked over at the girl he was with and said "it's that Papa guy". The confused little girl seemed unimpressed, so I was happy when he sent her to the Disney section, though I sensed something eerie about my one fan. So, the man said "I read your blog all the time" to which I responded, "I only wrote 1 entry." Of course, he looked frustrated and replied, "yeah, ALL the time... at work, at home, in the sh**ter." It was at this point that I realized I needed to improve my blog and to find a new video store. So, I'm thankful for the fan, but I think I'm going to be one of those sunglasses jerks from now on.

But, I am also thankful for: my hair, which curls ever so slightly to mask my growing baldness; my acerbic wit and devilish charm, which I use ONLY to get a smile out of DMV employees and scare off the Ladies; but most of all I am thankful for my gratitude because without it, none of this would be possible.

I'd like to throw a reminders section into the middle of my blog:
Reminder 1: Daylight Savings Time did something last week or the week before, you should check that out.
Reminder B: New Years is just around the corner, so you can take off that Catwoman outfit, you're starting to smell.
Side note A: I wonder if Catwoman smelled like the cat lady.?.

Also, just today, I was thinking about how great the temperature has been in the past few years, and not just here in N.Y.C., but all over. I'm not sure who to thank for it, God or Science, but, either way, keep it up.

This is my concern on this Thanksgiving: there is a huge difference between someone who is a funny comedian and someone who is a talented comedian. The other night, I was watching a new TV show starring the incomparable Frank Caliendo, of MAD TV, Sunday Morning Football, and stand-up comedy fame. I am not exaggerating when I say that he is likely the most gifted ("talented") impersonator I have ever seen, and aside from his glowering talent, he is also a very funny and witty young man. He jumps from aping classic actors to presidents with the nimble dexterity of a thing that is nimble and dexterous (I am not good with similes or analogies, but I'm good as heckfire with metaphors.)

Here's the rub though: when he's in character and makes jokes, you (really I'm referring to me, but what's the difference), are more in awe of his gift than appreciating his humor. I managed a few chuckles, but mainly it was claps rather than laughs. When he makes funny jokes out of character, I chuckle, but I await his next trick, like a magician who fills his stage prep time with jokes. (Though as G.O.B. pointed out, its actually not a trick, but an "illusion", because "a trick is something a wh*re does for money... or cocaine.")

Speaking of magic, House had a magically themed episode that was not worth mentioning.

Speaking of mentioning, I wanted to give out my early Oscar pick for Best Actor... and the award goes to Denzel Washington, who dominates American Gangster as a Michael Corleone for our time.

Finally, I'm thankful that my apartment (which as you may remember from earlier today when I wrote that I can fit into it lengthwise), went from being as chaotic as the New York Knicks organization to the New York Jets orgnization. Basically from awful and dirty, to merely just sad.

I hope y'all enjoy your Thanksgiving weekend, especially the people I already care about. I sincerely wish you the best, so be good, be happy, and be smart.

the talented,
Mark "Papa Bear" Ellis

First Blog

Considering this is my first blog, I wanted to welcome myself into the blog world, by telling you a little about yourself.

You are an above-average jerk, who has a little too much time on his or preferably her hands, and found me floating somewhere on the Internet.

I say, you are above-average because I was appeasing you and telling you what you want to hear, and everybody seems to think they are above-average, (unlike me, because I am actually above-average).
I say you are a jerk, in part because you might actually be a jerk, in part because people appreciate you more when you degrade them, and in part because you are someday going to leave me (you jerk).
I say you have a little too much time on your hands, because if you did not have too much time on your hands, you would not be reading random blogs, but if you had way too much time on your hands, you would be doing something cooler like learning a language, joining a cult, or selling bananas.
And I say you found me floating on the Internet because I did not find you, so you must have found me and I am a floater.

Now that you know a little bit more about yourself, maybe you will recognize that this is a worthwhile blog to read, after one episode.

Also note the facts that (a) I taught you something (b) I know you (because I am you) (c) I have been funny in the past, and I may one day again be funny (d) I think I didn't need a (d) and it was a mistake to include it, and (e) I am willing to acknowledge my mistakes.

The blog, (if I have time and am willing to put in the effort,) will include tidbits about my daily life, but probably no personal details. Sorry ladies, no hints at what to get me for Valentine's Day. I like movies, TV, basketball, football, politics, books, celebrities, and ranting/lecturing about how I know better. I'm also a single Jewish lawyer in New York, but no, I am not interested in your awesome niece/daughter/neighbor and I am not doing your taxes, but I'd be happy to help as a tip calculator. So, if I discuss any of this stuff, don't be afraid. It'll pass. I'm extremely rational, so I often play the devil's advocate, (which was a good movie,) because I tend to see the flaws in every argument. But, even when you see me passionately relaying my logical opinion, know that I know I am not "right", but I am just righter than you are.

I'm not much of a grammarian, my spelling is usually not bad, I limit my cusswords, and I tend to verbify words that don't exist. I plan to post at least once a week, I hope to post every day, and I dream of having a personal assistant poster who writes the blog for me. I know the dream is not very badass, but it would be pretty sweet and very practical. That way I could spend more time doing the things I really care about like arguing with people in person (or spending time with blah blah).

I'd like to thank my parents for raising my averageness to above-average, my brother who inspired me to try less hard (to be funny), my extended family for being almost nuclear, my various friends for providing comic fodder, my work for keeping me alive, the various girls who made me bitter, the alcohol that soothed my bitterness, and God for forgiving the alcohol. Without them, I would not be here right now, I would be somewhere else, doing something else. So, really, YOU should thank all these people.

So, now that we know each other pretty well, I welcome you to join me on my ridiculous journey to log my daily activities without discussing anything I do.