Tag Archives: sarcasm

Alec Baldwin: Terrorist or Adorable Curmudgeon?

Mandatory Credit: Photo by Erik Pendzich/REX/Shutterstock (9688107v)
tvline.com

 Alec Baldwin was arrested Friday and charged with assault and harassment after allegedly striking a man in the face during a dispute over a parking spot outside his New York City home, authorities said.

Police said the actor claimed he had a family member holding the spot for him as he attempted to park his black Cadillac Escalade around 1:30 p.m. when a man driving a black Saab station wagon pulled up and took it.

Police said the men were arguing and pushed each other before Baldwin, 60, got more aggressive. The driver of the station wagon told police Baldwin hit him with his hand, but wasn’t sure if it was a punch or a slap. The driver, 49, was taken to a hospital with jaw pain and redness in the neck area, police said.  All type in italics is from The Chicago Tribune.

Gasp! A celebrity attacking a commoner! How dare he! If we replace the name Alec Baldwin with Justin Bieber, we’d all be outraged and call for him to do jail time. And it does seem like the kind of thing that the Biebs would do, doesn’t it?

In my mind, because it’s Alec Baldwin, it’s OK. And because it’s New York City it’s OK. In New York City a slap in the face is how people greet each other. Arrested over a parking dispute? Ridiculous. Why am I so willing to take Alec Baldwin’s side on this? This is why:

Before Alec Baldwin did a Trump impression he was an obnoxious ass with several instances of public boorishness on his record. Now, since his Emmy winning Trump impersonation I consider him a national treasure, an adorable curmudgeon if you will.

First of all, what’s a 49 year old doing getting in a fight with a 60 year old? And more embarrassingly, losing. Secondly, a guy in a Saab fighting with a guy in an Escalade? If one of these wasn’t Alec Baldwin, wouldn’t we all just say “Let the rich S.O.B.’s fight it out. They both probably deserve a good slap in the face.” ?

When I’m elected President, or Sexiest Man Alive, whichever comes first, I’m going to pass two laws. 1) Alec Baldwin will be required to do President Phil impersonations, and 2) There should a statue of Alec Baldwin, as Donald Trump, erected at the site of the disputed parking spot so that he has dibs on it forever.

 “I wanted to be president of the United States. I really did. The older I get, the less preposterous the idea seems.” ~Alec Baldwin. Sorry Alec, you’ll have to get in line behind me, but I promise you can be my Vice-President. What’s your opinion? Take the poll below:

Please share this post to and fro. I’d love to see the poll go viral. Have a great weekend everybody! ~Phil

TBT! I Ain’t Afraid of No Ghost!

There’s two things I’m not sure if I believe in, ghosts and death. Well, I’m sure I don’t believe in my own death, and if by chance it does happen, I plan to overcome it by becoming a ghost. I’m sure you’re thinking to yourself What a weirdo! Hey, relax on the judgement there. I’m contractually bound to comeback after death, if I have one, a death that is.

Contractually bound? Yup. Nothing I can do about it now. It was many years ago in college. One night myself and two friends were drinking some adult beverages. You know how when you’re young, like 20 or so and you think you’re really deep even though you’re really idiots who don’t know anything? We had imbibed a few and got to talking about death and the afterlife.

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We all were curious to know if there really was life after death, so right then and there we Googled and then re-enacted a centuries old Druid ceremony complete with a circle of salt, candles under a full moon and signing a pact with our own blood, which was flowing easily because of the alcohol we had been drinking. Ok, no we didn’t, but I had you going there for a second, didn’t I? There was no blood signed contract, and there was also no Google when I was in college, but we did make a promise to each other that whichever one of us died first would come back and haunt the other two so we would know that there’s life after death.

I don’t know where those two college friends are now and don’t even remember ones last name. Hopefully, because of our vow, some sort of afterlife mojo will help us find each other to keep our promise. As far as I know, none of us has ever shown up to haunt the others. With Halloween in the air I got to thinking of this and what else I might do if I were to be a ghost.

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I know this may be hard for you to believe, but in my life I’ve been a bit of a practical joker at times. I’m pretty sure that if I ever come back  as a ghost I’m not going to take off my shirt and help anyone with pottery. Jeez, what a waste of an afterlife. I’ll probably be what we all know as a poltergeist. I’ll move a lot of peoples car keys just before they have to leave for work. During live televised events I’ll show up invisibly and give the President or the Pope a wet willie. I’ll be on the field at all my favorite live sporting events, helping out a little to ensure my favorite teams win. You know that feeling you get when you feel like someone’s behind you but you turn around and no one’s there? That’ll be me.  Who knows? Ghost Phil may even zip into the internet and follow the connection to your computer and cause embarrassing typos when you’re posting pictures.

So do you believe in life after death? Do you think there are real ghosts? Have you ever had an experience with what you think was a ghost? What would you do if you were a ghost?

Have a great Thursday, and no, you don’t have enough Halloween decorations up yet! ~Phil

Reasons Why I Hate You on The Flight

1. You brought an unnecessary “service animal.” I get it. You’re anxious. Flying can be nerve wracking if you don’t do it a lot. If you’ve got a legit dog that can notify others if you’re having a seizure, I’m not talking to you. You’re good. If you have an emotional support animal, well that’s different. If you think that you’re anxious on a flight, imagine how your pet feels. You at least know what it is. They have no idea what’s going on and are probably terrified the whole time. Leave Fluffy home, get a xanax or two from your doc, order a glass of wine and go to sleep.

2. You need both arm rests: For some reason known only to airlines, unless you’re in first class, the seats are so close together that there are shared arm rests. Listen, I don’t care who you are, if I don’t know you, I don’t want my skin touching your skin for the next three hours. Don’t assume that both armrests are your domain. You’re not that fecking important.

3. Keep your shoes on: Hey Zen master, it’s nice that you like to make yourself at home on the plane, but keep your shoes on asshat. Bare feet are for the beach, not the 6:10 flight to Newark. You may love your foot stink in a small confined space with recycled air, but I don’t.

4. The “I can’t wait to get off the plane people.” The second the wheels touch the ground these impatient dolts spring from their seats, get their idiotically oversized bag out of the overhead compartment, hit at least two people as they get the bag to the floor, and then they stake their claim to a spot in the aisle right next to you and then stand there with their ass right next to your head for the next 15 minutes. Calm down Speedy, guess what? You’re not going anywhere until the twenty rows ahead of you get out of the plane.

That is all. Safe travels. So what people do you hate when you travel?

Have a great Sunday!~Phil

TBT! Hey Guys, We’re In Trouble

(09/27/14) If you’re a guy, reading this may save your life. Ladies, you should read this because you’ll thoroughly enjoy the perspective.

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Guys, we’re in trouble. Throughout history men have been the dominant gender because of our advantage in size and muscle mass. I think that may be changing. In my never-ending quest to live forever I’m continually trying to stay in shape. Recently I joined a new gym. I tried a couple classes that approximate Cross Fit. Do you know who’s in these classes? Women. Every class, no matter how physically challenging, is about 80% women. Typically you think of fitness classes at a gym and you think of women in fluorescent spandex jumping around to peppy music like this:

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That may have been true twenty years ago. The women in classes at gyms now aren’t “normal” women though. They’re some sort of super-breed of women. You know who’s going to survive the Zombie apocalypse? Female fitness instructors and their followers. Guys, we can do curls and chest presses all we want, but I’m telling you, the women in these classes can kick our asses. These women are doing chin-ups and juggling medicine balls in time to music while standing on one foot. If the women at gyms across the country decided to band together and take over the country there would be nothing we could do about it. We can’t even out-run them.

Some of you more crass and low-brow type of guys might be thinking, “But Phil, isn’t it awesome being in a class full of fit women in yoga pants?” No. No it’s not. It’s awful. Imagine yourself in a room with walls that are completely mirrors. Imagine everyone in the room moving fluidly and smoothly around you. Now imagine yourself flopping around on the floor, gasping for breath like a fish that’s been tossed on the deck of a boat. And you can see yourself in the mirrored wall. And everyone else can see you in the mirrored wall. It feels like that dream where you find yourself in public in your underwear and there’s nowhere to hide.

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That picture above is how I feel after every class. Like I said, I’m not looking around at any one else. I’m just trying to survive. Guys, the reason we should be worried is 1) I’m convinced all the women are more physically fit than us. (You know, fantasy football isn’t exercise) and 2) About 20 minutes after the class ends and I can breathe normally, I feel like kicking the crap out of somebody for the rest of the day. I don’t care how attractive they are; I want no part of a pre-menstrual woman with more muscle mass than me. What if more and more women do these classes? And what if at one of the classes they realize that they don’t need us to open their jars anymore?

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You know what? Screw the Marines, Special Forces and Navy Seals. If President Obama and the rest of the civilized world want to obliterate ISIS once and for all, they just need an army of fitness instructors and their followers. That would be the real definition of terror. Guys, for the good of all of us and for the survival of the male species I’ll continue to attend these classes in the hope of at least gathering intel so we know when the women plan to take over.  Wish me luck.

As always, if you enjoyed #ThePhilFactor or just hope to survive the Aerobics Apocalypse, feel free to share by hitting the Facebook, Twitter, or re-blog buttons below. ~Phil

TBT! It’s the Great Pumpkin Spice Latte Charlie Brown!

(08/31/2013) I was also going to name this “A Pumpkin Flavored Phil Factor”. It’s that time of year, again. Sigh.  It has begun. Pumpkin flavored everything is back in stores! WTH? Seriously, are pumpkins such a wonderful delicacy that we have to flavor EVERYTHING with them? Why pumpkin? Is there any other time of year where a flavor takes over the country for a couple months? Around the winter holidays why isn’t there nog flavored everything? Around St. Patrick’s Day we’ve got our Shamrock Shakes, but that’s about it. How about this? I’m going to give you a list of ten pumpkin flavored items below and you try to guess which one isn’t real.

1. Coffee

2. Beer

3. Donuts

4. Candy

5. Soda pop

6. Potato chips

7. Pasta

8. Cookies

9.  Vodka

10. Smoothies

Guess what? They all are real! That’s too much pumpkin flavored stuff. What’s next, pumpkin-flavored fish sandwiches at McDonald’s? This time of year it’s actually an effort not to accidentally eat something pumpkin flavored. This madness must end!  When I’m elected President, or Sexiest Man Alive, whichever comes first, I’m going to pass a law stating that any company that produces a pumpkin flavored food item has to have it approved through a special sub-committee and if it is just too stupid of an idea they will not be allowed to sell it. If you know of any other odd pumpkin flavored foods or drinks please share them in a comment.

As always, if you enjoy what you read at #ThePhilFactor and want to support my bid for President, or Sexiest Man Alive, please hit the Facebook or Twitter share buttons.

Rock You Like a Hurricane?

First, before you read this, know that I am not making fun of the devastation and those who are effected by this weeks hurricane. I’m making fun of those who report on hurricanes because many of them are truly idiots.

My body is burning, it starts to shout
Desire is coming, it breaks out loud
Lust is in cages till storm breaks loose
Just have to make it with someone I choose

Here I am
Rock you like a hurricane (Are you ready, baby?)
Here I am
Rock you like a hurricane

It’s pretty obvious to anyone that Scorpions, in a rock song with perhaps the greatest guitar riff intro ever, were not talking about an actual hurricane. And all this week, I’m not entirely sure that television meteorologists are talking about a hurricane. Any TV broadcaster talking about the hurricane seems inordinately aroused by this weather event. Much like their sex, lives this probably only happens to them a couple times a year. And I’m not entirely sure that they don’t like this better. I swear that yesterday when the camera came back from an on screen graphic I saw Chris Cuomo and Ginger Zee adjusting their clothes.

Watch this video of a broadcaster allegedly battling the hellacious winds to stay upright when two gentlemen stroll past in the background apparently having no trouble at all. My first major in college was broadcasting and I don’t remember any of the lectures including the phrase “fake stuff to seem more dramatic.”

The funny part is, you never see any of these broadcasters the rest of the year. It’s like every network has a closet where they keep a half dozen people captive just waiting for something catastrophic like this. While they’re all in that secret closet waiting for a “weather event,” I imagine them all practicing enunciating words like storm surge, hunker down, and Nor’easter.  Seriously, is “hunkering down” the only way to survive a hurricane?

And lastly, Twitter was full of people wondering why this storm wasn’t called Daniels, just so the reporters could say that “the east coast is getting blown by Stormy Daniels.” Hey, I don’t make the news, I just report it. Have a great Sunday and I hope all of you in the path of the storm are safe and well. ~Phil

TBT! The “I Love All Four Seasons” People

Get ready. This is coming

(Sept. 10, 2016) We’ve all been in this conversation:

Other Human: Boy it sure is hot today!

Me: Yeah, but I’ll take this over winter any day.

Other Human: Not me! I love all four seasons! The fall colors are beautiful, and there’s nothing better than curling up in front of the fire on a cold winter night. And the Spring! All the flowers are beautiful!

Me: (imagining myself punching Other Human in the face)  What are you, fecking Snow White? The other seasons suck. You’re dead to me.

I’m not sure, but I imagine Snow White as the ultimate optimist. Her step-mother tried to kill her and she just went and lived with dwarfs until a Prince came along. And she sang and whistled happy tunes while doing housework! She probably loved all four seasons. I’ve never once sang and whistled while shoveling three feet of snow from my driveway.

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“Oh the Fall is so beautiful. I love the colors!” Yeah, well you know what? The colors on my 50 inch HD TV are gorgeous and I don’t have to go outside and pick the colors up off my yard for two months while inhaling mold and allergens. That’s ok though, you go ahead and frolic in leaf piles.

My problem is that I’ve lived in the northeastern part of the United States for my entire life. The first half of my life was my parents fault. But since I was liberated from their tyrannical control, it’s all on me that I still live here. I’ve grown sick and tired of damp, cool, Falls, cold, snowy winters, and Springs that are like living in England. (Yeah, sorry England, I hate to break it to you, but your weather is not great.)

I’m all about being an optimist and understanding others perspectives, but in February of 2015 the average temperature for the entire month in my hometown was 12 degrees. And not toasty warm 12 degrees celsius, whatever that is. It was 12 degrees Fahrenheit which is the manly American way of measuring temperature. We had over 100 inches (254 centimeters) of snow for the entire winter. Snow that had to be removed from driveways and roads. Yeah, you “I love all four seasons” people, how much fun was that season?

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That picture above this is me every Spring until about June. Yes, I know that rain is good for nature and all, but seriously, how can you “I love the four seasons” people actually love Spring? Who enjoys going around being damp all the time?

Admit it, none of you  really love all the seasons. You know who says that? Idiots and people who live somewhere that doesn’t really have all four seasons. So as summer turns into Fall, consider yourselves warned that if you engage in a weather related conversation with me, it’s not going to end well.

Have a great Thursday! ~Phil