For fuck's sake, people.

Can someone sit me down and explain to me, using really short words, why there is a controversy over what Barack Obama's jackass of a pastor said? Seriously. I just want to make sure I understand what's happening here, so let's recap.

Obama went to a church. The guy that delivered the sermons at that church made completely ridiculous remarks after Obama stopped going to the church. And that's the whole thing, right? I mean, I didn't miss something, like the part where Obama told the guy to say those wacky things? That didn't happen, right?

So why the fuck is this an issue? How the fuck does it have anything to do with Obama that his pastor's a fucking nutjob? He doesn't even go there anymore. And remember how he gave that huge speech about how we need to start talking about race relations in this country?

So why the fuck is it more of an issue that the pastor guy has now said even crazier things? Don't we already know he's crazy? I mean, politicians are already under a pretty bright spotlight, but to we really expect them never to have met or associated in any way with anyone who's even the slightest bit unhinged? What the fuck, people?

And at the same time, why don't we care that Hilary Clinton made up a fucking story about personally stopping sniper bullets in midair in Sudan?

So, just so that I'm sure I understand: Obama was once in the same room as a crazy guy and his campaign gets mired in controversy for months. Clinton outright lied to America, and we've already forgotten about it?

Fuck me, we're all fucking fucked.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (18)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Philosophical Rants , Political Rants , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Rants on the News

I was walking to the courthouse here in Madison yesterday when I found that I was surrounded by people with signs and shit. There were about seven people, each holding antiwar signs. Some of them had slogans on them like "Honk to end the war." And a few passing drivers would honk. But I just thought to myself "What the fuck do you hope to accomplish here?"

I mean, certainly you're not hoping to raise awareness. Everyone knows we're at war, right? I mean, most people do. And the people that don't probably can't even read your signs, so they have absolutely no idea what you're doing, other than standing in the rain.

And this is Madison, Wisconsin, so it's not even like you're trying to get a controversial idea out there. I mean, if you're demonstrating for something a lot of people are against, then at least there's a chance that you'll get the attention of someone who hadn't considered your position before. Demonstrating against the war in Madison is like going to a strip club on a Friday night and screaming "Yeah, titties!"

And let's not forget that there were seven of you. When the civil-rights movement went to Washington D.C., there were enough people there to fill up the national mall. And they had fucking Martin Luther King, probably one of the best orators of the 20th century. The demonstration I saw had seven people, and they were old and about as undynamic as it is possible to be without being dead.

So, seriously, what's the point? I'm not being condescending here--I really want to know what the point is. Why go out in the rain and advocate a position no one's going to disagree with you on in such feeble numbers?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Philosophical Rants , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry

I've mentioned before that I don't usually have or remember my dreams. Well, last night's bizarre series of dreams makes me sort of sad about that cause I was damn entertained.

I may have forgotten some of the details or the order her, but I think you'll get the gist.

Ok, it started with Mr. Vice and I being at a park or somewhere, potentially with other people. We were walking around sort of at dusk. I know that it was a work night, so we were both thinking that it was time to get home pretty soon. Then I heard someone screaming. I turned around and saw this homeless guy screaming at me. Then I felt some pain and realized that he had actually been throwing fireballs at me somehow. Like, he had pieces of paper that he was lighting on fire and he was throwing those at me. And at everyone else, because there were more people involved now. But I was the person he was angry at. He explained that he had come to our law firm looking for help with something or other, but that I had turned him away and that his life was all fucked up because of it. And then he said that I had been un-Socratic with him. Very strange.

So, anyway, everyone's taking cover when I finally decide to call the police. But no one had a cell phone. Someone handed me something--maybe a calculator--that clearly wasn't a cell phone and I got pissed. Eventually, while hiding in some sort of alleyway, I found a cell phone and called the police, and they sent a giant armored vehicle to come dispatch of the homeless guy. And that was that.

So Mr. Vice and I decided that we were hungry. So we went to a grocery store that also made sushi. So we ordered up some sushi. Mr. Vice told them what they wanted, and then I told them what I wanted. I mentioned that I wanted some sort of special sushi or something, and the guy explained to me that ordering that kind of sushi would make the bill a little higher, and I said I was find with that, expecting the total to be somewhere in the high-twenty-dollar range. Anyway, the place said that they delivered, so we could just go home and wait and it would be about an hour. It was already getting really late, so we were stressed about not getting enough sleep before work, but we went to someone's house, anyway. And watched old TV--like Mork and Mindy, maybe?--while we waited. And waited.

Eventually, we got sick of waiting and went back to the grocery store. Our sushi was ready, and I went to pay for both of us when I was fucking shocked to see that they were trying to charge us $1,200 for our food. I went into a rage and told the guy that he was fucking out of his goddamned mind. He said that he had told me it would be a little more expensive. I told him that he could suck it. And then we left or something.

Next thing I know, Mr. Vice, pH, Mr. Morenononsense, and a friend of a friend from college--let's call him Fudd--and I are all in the seXterra. For some reason, Mr. Morenononsense is driving. And he decides that we're going to do some offroading, which is fine by me since I haven't been in a long time. So he drives onto this off-road area and we do that for a while. Then I remember that, somehow, he twists the shifter knob around and we get all confused about which way it's supposed to be, with Fudd arguing one thing and being extremely condescending to anyone who even thinks about disagreeing. And all the while, Mr. Vice, pH, and I are looking at each other realizing that it's now early afternoon and there's simply no way we're going to get enough sleep before we have to go to work.

And that was my dream, although I'm pretty sure I'm missing an entire scene in there somewhere.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 8:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit

This is my latest song. I wrote it in about fifteen minutes and the entire recording process took about an hour, including mixing. It's a pretty simple song--two guitars playing identical parts, a double-tracked vocal, and some harmonies. Not complicated at all.

The lyrics are very simple, but I like them. Here's what I sing:

I wish I could fix the world
I wish I could fix the world
For you, for you

And if I could mend your bones
And if I could mend your bones
I would, I would

The sun will shine, the ice will melt
The sun will shine, the ice will melt
One day, one day

I do not know where you will go
I do not know where you will go
I'm staying here, I'll stay right here

One of the problems I had with this one is that the tracks ended up being extremely bass heavy, so there would be this really obnoxious booming low end. I always try to listen to my songs on various sound systems, just so that I can get a sense of what they'll sound like when--and if--other people listen to them. This one sounded good on headphones, decent on my computer's speakers, and terrible in my car--the fucking door panels almost vibrated off. So then I fucked around with EQ and compression for a little bit and managed to get it more under control, although it's still not perfect.

Still, this is one of my most professional-sounding songs so far, I think. It's also my most "Indie"-sounding song, which is strange because I didn't set out to emulate that style at all.

As always, let me know what you think, positive and negative.

The Lovers of Sight and Sound - The Broken World

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 8:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , The Lovers of Sight and Sound

Yeah, I sold that house. Fuck yes I did.

And let me tell you: it feels great.

Update:
When I graduated from law school, my mom said to me "we did it!" And I remember thinking "What are you talking about? I'm the one that's graduating!" And then my cousin pointed out to me that I was being an asshole because, you know, my mom had stood by me for my whole life and had never faltered in her belief that I was not a complete fuck up. And then I thought "Yeah, mom, I guess we did do it." So today, when I sold that house I was selling--and, by the way, I hope you all realize that I didn't actually "sell a house"--the first thing I did was call my mom and give her the good news.

But I'm still sort of an asshole, because my original post didn't thank the two people that were instrumental in helping me sell the house I sold. See, I would have been completely fucked if it wasn't for Mr. Vice and pH. So I just want to get this all out there: Mom, Mr. Vice, and pH--thanks to all of you for everything.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Potentially Entirely Unhelpful Analogies

Am I good at my job? I don't know, but I'll know by this time tomorrow.

Wish me luck.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Potentially Entirely Unhelpful Analogies , The Law Firm

First message:
There are a lot of things you might be, but one of the things you definitely are is a raging bitch. I mean, I know it, you know it, everybody knows it. It's ok--I'm kind of an asshole. It's just the way we are. Or at least that's what I thought.

But today, out of fucking nowhere, you decided not to be a bitch and, instead, to be relatively nice. In fact, extremely nice. Why the fuck did you do that? Were you feeling bad for previously being such a huge bitch? Or do you just have some crazy bipolar thing going on?

It doesn't matter either way. Your brief moment of niceness was lame. If you're going to be a bitch, just own it. Don't wuss out. Now I hate you and I don't respect you. Which just makes me hate you more.

Second message:
You won. Congratulations. Big deal. You're still going to lose. So just give it up, ok?

Third message:
The fact of the matter is that I had my head up my ass and should have realized what was going on way earlier than I did. But now I have. So fuck off.

Fourth message:
Why would you build a barn and then let it completely fall apart over the course of several decades? That just doesn't make sense!

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Horribly Inappropriate Things I've Said , Life Sucks Sometimes , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Rants on the News

I currently drive a Nissan Xterra. It's a fucking awesome car. I've had it for almost six years now, and in that time it's broken down exactly once--the fuel pump went out. Granted, I was offroading in the middle of nowhere at the time, but that's not the car's fault. And it was covered by warranty, anyway.

That's the only time the car's ever let me down. Other than that, it's done everything I could ask of it. It moved me across the country, carried my friends and I to Miami and back, and took me to all manner of exotic, hard to reach locales. It's even been to Santa Fe, even though I've never been there. Basically, it's the best car ever, except in one respect: it gets approximately seven feet to the gallon.

This used to not be so much of a concern for me because I wasn't driving very far very often and because gas prices were fairly reasonable. But circumstances have changed. For one, I have a forty-mile commute every day I go to the office. For two, gas prices are fucking ridiculous. Seriously fucking crazy.

Anyway, so I've been sort of lusting after a Prius for a while now. I mean, they're perfect for someone in my position: they're fairly affordable, they're reliable, they maintain their resale value fairly well, and they have the best gas mileage known to man. Sure, they're sort of ugly, but I could get used to it. And, really, they're not any more boxy than the seXterra. In fact, they're significantly more streamlined.

So, yeah, in a year or two when I'm ready to buy a car, I think I'm going to buy a Prius. Unless the whole law firm thing goes way better than I could reasonably expect, in which case I'm buying an Infiniti G37.

I want to make one thing clear, though: the fact that Toyota markets the Prius as being good for the environment has nothing to do with my desire to buy one. I wouldn't care if the Prius ran on the hopes and dreams of children and left a billowing black cloud of toxic smoke behind it wherever it went--if got 50 miles to the gallon, I'd still buy the thing.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Reviews , Things I'm Irrationally Attached To

Remember when I said I might attempt to make eggs benedict with real hollandaise sauce? Well, I did that today, and it was fucking awesome:

In case you can't tell, those are some eggs benedict with hollandaise I made from scratch myself. Also, each one has both Canadian and real bacon and a poached eggs. And I used whole-wheat English muffins--because I'm all about being healthy.

One might question why I needed four eggs. The fact is that I didn't, but I got really excited by the whole thing and went a little overboard. I was fucking stuffed when I was done.

Anyway, as it turns out, my awesome breakfast was just the beginning of an awesome day. After eating, Mr. Vice, pH, L-Dawg, and X-tina and I went over to the driving range and hit some balls. As it turns out, my slice gets worse every season. I suck with a driver--hard. I did decent with the irons, though, so I'm going to see about playing an all-irons game. I think I can pull it off.

After the driving range, we headed over to L-Dawg and X-tina's, where we grilled the fuck out of some hamburgers and then topped off the whole ridiculous eating thing with some French silk pie. And we watched Property Ladder in HD--and Kirsten Kemp looked really good.

We all called it a day at about 4pm, and I haven't thought about food since.

Oh, and did I mention that it was fucking gorgeous out today? It was fucking seventy degrees and sunny as hell. It was clearly the nicest day of the year so far. And it got me unreasonably excited for this summer. The only question is whether this will be the best summer to date. And all indications are that it will be.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Hanging Out With My Friends

A while ago, I was having this conversation with a friend of mine about how I hated Hillary Clinton. My friend then accused me of not supporting her candidacy because she's a woman. That was fucking preposterous and, given my relationship with that friend, kind of hurtful because, as is now a well-established principle, I am not a sexist. I told my friend this, and then she asked me a question I couldn't answer: which of her policies do you disagree with? It's not that I agreed with all her policies, it's that I didn't know which of her ideas differentiated her from any other Democrat. Eventually, I was forced to concede that I didn't know much about Ms. Clinton's substance. But that's OK with me--I still hate her.

First of all, there's the fact that she's clearly a power-hungry, unscrupulous bitch. She's been positioning herself to run for president for more than a decade. That might be acceptable--although it still sort of rubs me the wrong way--but what I really hate is that she seems perfectly willing to do anything it takes to win, regardless of whatever her personal beliefs are and, you know, the truth. That whole thing where she was cool with Michigan and Florida's primaries not counting until she lost all the others but won those sort of demonstrates exactly what I mean. Oh, and the thing where she apparently fought snipers off with her bare hands, but not really or at all. And, while I have no specific examples to back this up, I'm fairly certain that she's changed her public stance on a bunch of issues since deciding to run for president.

In any event, she just comes off--or at the very least, I perceive her--as someone who'd do pretty much anything to get elected. And that's exactly the kind of person I don't want to elect. And it looks like the rest of America is finally getting its head out of its ass and realizing the same thing. Still, while I'm glad that Mr. Obama's maintaining at least some of his momentum through this fucktarded nomination process, there are some things in that article that sort of disturb me, not so much because of what they say about the candidates' chances but because of what they say about the American people.

First off, who are these idiots who thing that Mr. Obama's Muslim? I mean, have they been paying any attention to anything at all? And, more importantly, why the fuck do they care? It's frankly unbelievable to me that there are people who would exclude someone from consideration for president because of that person's religion. Or, as is the case here, that they'd be so grossly misinformed and then make their decision based on that.

Second, who are the people that are ranking Mr. Obama as "Not at all honest"? And where the fuck does that come from? And why the fuck are so many people hung up on what his pastor said? How can we be both upset that he's a Muslim and that his Christian pastor said incendiary stuff? Moreover, how the hell is Mr. Obama responsible for anything his fucking pastor said? Idiots.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised by the fact that my countrymen are idiots anymore. But, alas, I still am.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 9:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Philosophical Rants , Political Rants , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Rants on the News

One of the things that I hate about getting older is that, inevitably, people that were once integral parts of your life start to become less so. Inevitably, you find yourself spending what seems like all your free time with someone one minute and barely calling each other a few times a year the next. I hate that. Some people are really comfortable having friends that they talk to really infrequently, but I can't stand it. I hate hearing that someone is having a kid or getting married or graduating or whatever rather than being there to see the whole thing take shape and happen.

I used to think that this was all because I hated the fact that nothing exciting was going on with me. But that's not so much the case. For the first time in my life, I can look around at my friends and be comfortable with where I am compared to them. That's a huge feeling, but it also made me realize why I hate hearing about all these big events in peoples' lives. In the days when we were always around each other, I would have been an important part in these huge events. But now that we only see each other infrequently, hearing about those things just reminds me of how much I miss certain people. There are some people--and I'm actually not just talking about girls, either--that meant (and mean) the world to me. And I hate that we only get to talk every now and then. Or that I haven't returned their phone call but they still find the time to leave a comment on my blog.

I guess this is just one of the things that invariably happens in life that everyone has to deal with. But it still sucks. I wish that, someday, everyone I care about will move to Madison. Is that too much to ask?

Anyway, thinking about all of that got me started thinking about something else. When I was just going through all the hugely important people in my life that I want to talk to more frequently, I was kind of surprised by the people that weren't on the list.

I guess the most notable people--and the people I don't miss who had the biggest impact on my life--are my two best friends from high school. I haven't spoken to one of them in four years, and I can't even remember the last time I spoke to the other. And that's ok with me. I don't even know what I'd say to them if I spoke to them again. Probably a hearty "fuck you." But, failing that, I really don't know. it's sort of stupid because they influenced me a whole hell of a lot--I owe them a huge part of my personality. But when I think back on them, I just can't get over what selfish, uncaring, apathetic jackasses they were.

But there are other people I don't miss, too. And as I was thinking about it, I realized that me not missing those people doesn't invalidate whatever relationship we had at the time. It just means that, for whatever reason, we aren't life-long friends. But, being the self-defeating person that I am, that only depresses me because it makes me appreciate--and therefore miss--the people I do miss even more.

Anyway, if you're out there, and I haven't said hello in a while: Hi.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Life Sucks Sometimes

I think celebrities are stupid. I think that celebrities are, for the most part, worthless, vapid people. I think that people who are obsessed with celebrities are even stupider. I think it is extremely depressing that there are people in the world who think of Paris Hilton as a role model. Still, I check The Superficial several times a day.

I do this for two reasons. First, they post pictures of hot girls at least several times a week. Second, they don't so much glorify celebrities as they do make fun of them. I love seeing people I hate fail, so seeing news stories about washed-up rockers facing criminal charges just puts a smile on my face.

Still, there's one thing that sullies my love for The Superficial: Kim Kardashian. First off, why the fuck does anyone know who she is? As near as I can tell, she doesn't sing or dance or act or anything. I think she was friends with Paris Hilton. As far as I'm concerned, that means Ms. Kardashian is even more worthless than the already unimaginably worthless Ms. Hilton. I mean, Ms. Hilton's famous for exactly no reason other than that the American people are fucking morons, and Ms. Kardashian is apparently famous by association. She's a fucking stardom whore, only she's leeching off of someone who has no right to be famous in the first place. If Kim Kardashian deserves to be famous, then I deserve $40 quadrillion.

But it's not just that Kim Kardashian exists--although that's pretty bad and I demand an apology both from Ms. Kardashian and the universe--it's that whoever the fuck writes The Superficial keeps saying that Kim Kardashian is hot. And that leaves me wondering whether I'm missing the joke or people actually think Kim Kardashian is attractive. I mean, you be the judge:

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Reviews

My friend has a kid. Listening to my friend talk about raising the kid makes me certain of one thing: I don't want children. Not now, not ever.

Actually, I do want kids. But my friend's stories still make me glad that I don't have any now and will not have any in the foreseeable future.

I mean, ok, let's run down my life:

1. After not being able to find jobs elsewhere, my friend and I created jobs for ourselves and, while I'm justifiably optimistic about our future, the reality is that the whole thing could come crashing down on our heads at any moment.


2. I spend my free time playing video games, playing guitar, watching TV, and hanging out with my friends. And I like it that way.


3. My apartment is a fucking disaster. I'll make strides in one area, and then all of a sudden there will be an explosion of papers and dirty clothes in another.


4. I like to sleep. In fact, I like to sleep a lot. And I like getting several hours of sleep all at once. Babies seem like they would interfere with that.


5. I have no money. Unless a kid would be willing to share cat food with Smash and Lilly, any kid of mine born right now would likely starve.

I mean, I want kids someday. In fact, I really want kids. I think that, on the whole, having kids would be totally badass. And I actually think that I'd make a decent parent. Or, rather, that I have the potential to be a good parent.

But that's the thing--I might have that potential, but it's hardly realized at the moment. Right now, I can barely take care of my own shit. And, for the moment, that's ok with me. It won't be too long before I start thinking about mortgages and parent-teacher conferences and all that other crap--at least I hope it won't be too long. But for now, I'm more than happy to work hard during the day and then spend my evenings getting XP with my party on Teamspeak.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense

I don't know what it is, but I am strangely compelled to attempt to grow facial hair. I'm thinking something like a goatee so that I look like an evil alternate-universe version of myself. Or maybe a full-on beard so that I look like some sort of mountain man.

Actually, no, I would look like an even bigger idiot than I do now, and that would be bad. What I actually need to do is get rid of hair, by which I mean that I need a haircut.

For some reason, I've always, always hated getting haircuts. I don't hate it as much as going to the dentist, but I hate it a lot anyway. I think I dislike it so much for the same reason that I hate going shopping for new clothes: I don't have a clear idea of what I want and I don't like anything I see, so I just get frustrated with the whole thing.

I mean, my hair is pretty long now--about six inches or so. And it looks really decent some days. But then on other days, it just sort of looks like I allowed my cats to have their way with my head and then just left the house. And the back is definitely far too long--my fucking hair billows over my collar now, which is never good. So a haircut is definitely in order. But what should I do?

I could shave my head, but I love how curly it is. So I could just make it short, but then it just looks so blah--like I've got no personality at all.

I don't know, man, I wish someone would just make these sorts of decisions for me.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense

I've made no secret of my love for the show Heroes. Well, let me rephrase. Approximately seven-eighths of the first season of Hearos was pretty much some of the best TV ever. Then that season ended and it was, well, not the best ending. In fact, it was one of the worst season finales I can think of. Then I got all geared up for the second season... and it kinda sucked. It was missing all the things that made the first season cool--you know, stuff like character development and a coherent story. Oh, and Hiro was in fucking feudal Japan for way the fuck too long and then, when he came back, he had to fight Peter who, for some reason, wanted to kill everyone or something. And don't even get me started on the Mexicans. The sad truth of the matter is that even the ultra-cute Kristen Bell couldn't save what was a pretty lackluster season.

When it comes down to it, I think one of the main issues was introducing far too many new characters and diluting the original core people and relationships that made the first season so awesome. Where was the interaction between Peter and Claire? Or Peter and Hiro? Or between Hiro and Ando? Or between pretty much anyone and anyone else? All those aspects were gone and were replaced, instead, with the exact same "we went to the future and saw that something bad happened so now we have to stop it" storyline from the first season. And the fucking Mexicans were so fucking obnoxious.

But I digress. New characters are bad for the show. So what do the geniuses in charge of the show decide? To add new characters, of course!

From TV Guide via Wil Wheaton:

Two new recurring roles are being cast, both of which are slated to debut in the Season 3 premiere. "Joy" is in her early twenties and described as "quick on her feet -- and adept at getting herself into and out of trouble." Senator Robert Malden, meanwhile, is in his fifties and a political straight shooter.

Ugh. I have a bad feeling about this.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Heroes , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Rants on the News , Television Reviews

I don't know if any of you ever go to the blogs in my blogroll, but I read most of them regularly. One of my favorites is In It But Not Of It, written by a guy who called mike. I agree with most of the random stuff he writes about and I enjoy his writing style. Recently, however, mike posted about how he spends his money on Lacoste polo shirts. And I thought to myself, "Jesus, that's an absurdly stupid way to spend money."

Seriously, $100 for a fucking shirt with a stupid little alligator on it? That's fucking unconscionable! That's fucking highway robbery. That's a company taking advantage of suckers. What is it about this fucking logo that makes otherwise intelligent people, as I assume mike is, decide that otherwise unextraordinary pieces of cloth are worth extraordinary prices? I've always been baffled by this kind of crap.

In high school, I wore lots of band shirts. And I thought they were worth the $20 they cost because they were black and I really liked the bands. But I thought it was fucking ridiculous for JC Penny, for example, to attempt to charge $35 for a fucking sweater. And I simply could not wrap my mind around stores that charged more for clothes than that. The concept of $250 jeans makes about as much sense to me as sticking a knife into your eye. I wore carpenter pants from Wal-Mart and I liked it.

I know people that have argued that you get what you pay for. More expensive clothes, they say, are better and last longer. That is simply and demonstrably false. Before law school, I wanted to buy some plain t-shirts that I could wear to my temp job, so I went to Wal-Mart and bought four $5 t-shirts. After four years of wearing them regularly, two of them are still completely wearable, which means that they don't have any holes in them and none of the seams have come apart. Oh, and they're still the same color they were when I bought them. That's more than I can say for numerous more expensive shirts I've owned through the years. The fact is that more expensive clothing is not necessarily better or more durable.

No, it all comes down to preferring the status that owning something by Lacoste or Coach or whatever the fuck is trendy or whatever as compared to the JC Penny brand. And that is obviously a stupid, stupid thing to do. And if you do that, then I think you should really think shit through.

People can spend their money however they want. If mike wants to spend his disposable income on overpriced shirts, that's his god-given right. Still, there are limits to that principle. For example, anyone who paid $300,000 for a watch that doesn't tell you the time but does tell you whether it's day or night clearly deserves to be shot.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (14)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Horribly Inappropriate Things I've Said , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry

On the drive back from the office today, I saw a man doing what can only be described as power washing dirt. I turned to Mr. Vice and said "So, when you're doing that job, how do you know if you've succeeded?" The man's entire job seemed so futile: even if he succeeded in using the high-powered water to somehow move the dirt around, he could never succeed in eliminating the dirt. And even if he won, what would he really have accomplished? Some piece of pavement that no one's ever noticed and no one ever would might be, in some insignificant way, cleaner. That's all he could hope to accomplish. And as I was thinking about all of this, I turned to Mr. Vice and I said that if I were that guy and I realized the complete futility of everything I was doing, I'd put the power-washer nozzle down and calmly walk away from the job forever.

Then I told Mr. Vice about having just such a moment during a job I had in college. I was working at the campus cafeteria place. My job included such mundane tasks as wiping counters and busing tables. I didn't hate the job. It wasn't very hard. But it was boring as shit. Anyway, one day, I was supposed to be doing some ridiculously mundane task. Maybe I was supposed to be making "guacamole" by mixing sour cream with some green-tinted mystery liquid, I don't remember exactly. But I was suddenly realized how stupid the entire situation was, and I calmly washed my hands, took off the goofy hat I had to wear, walked out, and never went back.

Sometime later, I found myself working at a Domino's Pizza. I had delivered pizza for Pizza Hut but, for some reason that I can't remember, I stopped working there. So I started at Domino's. I hated Domino's instantly. Their system was stupid and inefficient. And they paid less per delivery than Pizza Hut. But what pissed me off the most was the manager. The Domino's was in a strip mall, and the spaces right in front were reserved for delivery drivers. This meant that the total distance from the door of my car to the door of the Domino's was about six feet. On my first day, I was told that I had to "hustle" on the sidewalk. "What the fuck do you mean," I thought, "you want me to run for exactly one stride?" These people were not off to a good start.

Later in the day, as my shift was ending, I was told that I had to do a shitload of dishes. That's fairly standard, and I wasn't surprised--I hated doing dishes, but that's part of working in a restaurant. Anyway, all the dishes were stacked up in the sink, so I started using the sprayer thing and washing them and whatnot. But I was still doing deliveries, too. So I went on a delivery and, when I came back, the entire back room was flooded. It turns out that the sink where all the dishes were stacked was broken and not to be used to wash dishes. Everyone knew this, but no one told me. So the back room flooded somehow. When I pointed this out to my manager, she told me that it was all my fault and that I had to clean everything up by myself because it was my fault and that I had not made a good impression. My coworkers offered nothing by way of apology for not telling me what was up and certainly did not offer to help me with the situation. And there was about an inch of water all over the floor. So I did what any sensible person would do: I walked out the back door, around the strip mall, into my car, and the fuck away from that Domino's.

I guess the point here is that I've always had very little tolerance for doing mundane, stupid jobs. And that's probably why I went to law school: I never thought that being a lawyer would be mundane or stupid. I imagined that being a lawyer would be challenging and that I would feel like I was doing something that mattered to someone. For the most part, all the experiences I've had with legal employment have proven me right. Still, even when I was working at that law firm a few summers ago, I sometimes found it difficult for get my ass out of bed every morning. I'd stay up late watching TV, then it would be hard for me to drag myself out of bed. And, even though I really enjoyed my work, I'd never get lost in it.

But things couldn't be more different now. I'm genuinely excited to go to work every morning. I look forward to it. I mean, I don't look forward to it in the same way that I might look forward to, for example, a night of hanging out with my friends, but as far as work is concerned, I'm excited about it. I'm excited to represent people and be in court and draft motions and do research and, well, pretty much all of it. I mean, I always knew that thought that I'd love being a lawyer, but I didn't think I could enjoy work this much.

In fact, like I said to Mr. Vice this afternoon, I love what we're doing so much that I can only think of one job I'd rather have: Jessica Biel's blow-job practice cock.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Horribly Inappropriate Things I've Said , The Law Firm

Well, not anymore, I guess. But today was the first day that it really felt like spring and, for the first time in my life, I really appreciate it. In fact, it was so fucking nice out, I was compelled to go out and take a walk. And it was awesome.

I talk a lot about how, being from Arizona, I really like the cold weather and the snow. That's definitely true. I still love it when the world is covered in a fresh layer of white. And I don't mind it when that white stuff turns into disgusting wet nonsense. And I still like the feeling of being all bundled up when it's cold as hell outside.

But this winter overstayed its welcome by about two months. And that snowstorm the day after the spring officially began was simply uncouth.

So I welcome spring and I look forward to all the things that it--and summer--bring: beers on the terrace, outdoors activities, barbecues, and, you know, not being afraid to go outside.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense

I've always been sort of surprised by the things that some people thing are hard. It was strange to me in elementary school when people thought that fractions were hard. It was just as strange to me when people in college thought that trigonometry was hard. Someone once commented to me that they thought Anthropology was hard--she was getting a D and I was getting an A even though I hadn't ever read or even bought the books. Some people have said to me that they think that college would be hard. But it wasn't, really. Not in an insurmountable sort of way. And still others have commented that law school would be hard, both in the sense that it would be challenging and that it would be difficult to have that sort of commitment. But law school wasn't really hard--it was just law school.

So, some people tend to think that I've accomplished a lot of things that are hard to accomplish. But that doesn't seem true to me because everyone I know well has accomplished just as much if not more. And while things may have been frustrating and daunting at the time, I don't remember anything I've accomplished as being hard. I mean, I've done hard things and had to make hard decisions, but there's only been one time that I can remember--that fucking hike that seemed to go on for fucking ever--when I really thought the circumstances were going to beat me.

But just now, while looking at pictures of myself to send to someone, I realized that there's something that's extremely fucking hard: losing weight.

I've been big my whole life. I don't think I've ever lost a pound. I've been like a fucking black hole, gaining more and more mass but never giving any up, since the day I was born. It's not that I don't want to. It's that the whole endeavor seems so fucking impossible. I mean, law school was frustrating and sometimes terrible, but I never had much of a problem finding the motivation to be in that building for twenty hours straight. But when it comes to not having French fries, any sort of drive or will power that I have goes completely out the window.

I'm not saying it's not my fault--I've made my choices and I've paid the price. I'm just saying that it's difficult, subjectively, for me to do the things I need to do to lose some weight. And when I consider how far away any sort of acceptable figure would be, the whole thing just gets too discouraging.

Of course, just as I was writing this, I remembered that there was a time when I used to think that the second guitar solo to "Comfortably Numb" was really, really fucking hard and that it was way before me. And now I can play it almost perfectly.

So maybe I just need to get off my fat ass and practice.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Law School , Life Sucks Sometimes , Potentially Entirely Unhelpful Analogies

In English, subjects and verbs have to agree. For example, "He runs" is correct, but "They runs" is incorrect. The latter should be "They run." When the noun is singular, as in "he runs," the verb must also be singular. When the noun is plural, as in "they run," the verb must also be plural.

Now it's going to get complicated--if you're an idiot.

You see, our language has many words for things that are really collections of other things. For example, instead of forcing us to say "a number of animals of the same species doing stuff together," English provides us with the word "herd." And, while a herd consists of many things, it is nonetheless one thing itself. It is a singular noun. Therefore, you would say "The herd is moving." If you said "The herd are moving," you would be an idiot. A big, stupid idiot.

Similarly, if you said "The team are going to engineer a new way to use a parachute," you would be a big stupid idiot. And, if you were the person in charge of writing the script for the narration on an already stupid show on the Discovery Channel, then you are not only an idiot, but you should get fired.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Grammar for Idiots , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Television Reviews

I don't really like baseball. In fact, I actively dislike it. I think it's a boring, tedious sport, and I think that far too many of the people involved with it are unscrupulous pseudo-athletes, not to mention generally bad people.

Still, one of my favorite memories from a few summers ago was watching the Cubs play at Wrigley Field with Mr. Vice, pH, and Emily-in-Chief. That was a just a good time at the ballpark, even though I hardly remember the game.

One thing I do remember, though, was thinking how cool it was that there were all these bars right across the street from Wrigley that, thanks to the ballpark's design, were able to provide their customers with a view of the game from their rooftops. At the time, I didn't even think about what a huge money-making thing that would be--it just seemed like another thing that made Wrigley, already one of the coolest ballparks in the country, even cooler. So I was pissed when I read this article.

From what I understand, the Cubs management decided that they wanted a slice of the bar owners' profits because those bar owners were making money off of giving their customers a view of the game from their rooftops. And when, I take it, the bar owners told the Cubs to fuck off, the Cubs obstructed the bar owners' view. And now one of those bar owners is calling shenanigans on the whole thing and refusing to pay the Cubs the 17 percent of his profits that the other bar owners are paying.

I say give that guy a medal. It's a huge fucking dick move for the Cubs to decide that they're going to block the view from those rooftops. I mean, they own an open-air stadium, that's the price they pay: people who didn't pay admission might be able to see the fucking game without paying you.

Yeah, baseball's a business, but how much can the thousand or so people that fit on those rooftops possibly hurt the Cubs? From what I've heard, it's pretty difficult to get Cubs tickets, although we were able to get them pretty easily the day we went. Still, even when we were there, the stands were pretty close to full. So, at most, the Cubs are losing out on selling a few seats. As far as I'm concerned, for the Cubs to decide that those few dollars are worth pissing off local business owners and, you know, fans of the team is unconscionable.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Philosophical Rants , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Rants on the News