Archive for January, 2010


The most ridiculous thing I saw this weekend

January 25, 2010

And I saw some ridiculous things. $21 Blueberry facial for your dog. It’s time to leave Los Angeles.


Shh! Don’t Wake John Hughes!

January 21, 2010

I generally like Death Cab for Cutie, and I generally like Simple Mind’s Don’t You Forget About Me, and yet, this cover version of that  song by that band is so lifeless & disinterested.  Even though Zooey Deschanel’s husband claims they performed it to honor John Hughes, it seems more like they thought he wasn’t dead, but rather just sleeping, and they were afraid of waking him up.  Lame, Death Cab.  LAME.


When Did I Become This Way

January 21, 2010

I used to pride myself on my “non-average guyness.” I didn’t drink, watch sports, know about cars, play poker, basically everything guys are good at, I seemed to avoid.

I had a couple areas of overlap with traditional guy roles – I was good with technology, and I liked violent movies, and of course boobs, but over the years, there’s been a creeping “guyism” in my personality, and now all I talk about is sports, guy movies, videogames, and of course, boobs.  It’s like the jocks who run Spike TV snuck into my house and put something in the water.

I don’t really know how to combat it, or even if I want to.  I’m much more comfortable always having conversational touchstones with people at every party.  It’s such a convenient shorthand:

2010 Jonson Party Conversation:

Stranger: Did you see Nate Kaeding miss 3 field goals in Sunday’s Chargers game?

Jonson: Yeah, I heard he tried to hang himself afterwards in shame, but he failed to kick the chair out from under himself.

Stranger: Awesome.  High five!

1995 Jonson Party Conversation:

Stranger: Can you believe Michael Jordan dropped 55 on the Knicks last night?

Jonson: The illuminati believe that 55 is a number with deep significance in historic events.

Stranger: I’m going to go stand over there for a while.

1989 Jonson Party Conversation:

Just kidding.  I wasn’t invited to many parties in high school.


My daughter is super racist

January 18, 2010

When told that Monday was Martin Luther King’s birthday, my 4 year old daughter asked that we throw a birthday party for him.  We agreed, although I’m not sure who we’ll invite.

The missus explained to the cupcake that MLK himself wouldn’t be attending, because “he lives very far away.”  Later, having not checked with her on what the story was, I explained that MLK wouldn’t be attending because “he is dead.”

There are many downsides to being a single parent, but one benefit would be never having to keep your stories straight.

I’m not sure the cupcake believes me that MLK is in fact dead, because earlier tonight we had an African American door to door salesman come by, and after he left, we had the following exchange:

LBC: Who was that ?

The Missus: No one honey, just a man selling something.

LBC: Well, I think he looked like Martin Luther King.

Super racist four year old!  Not every black male looks like Martin Luther King!


NY Jets fans are racially insensitive

January 17, 2010

For the non-fans, the Jets qb is named Mark Sanchez, and apparently he wears a sombrero & poncho while sporting a bandito mustache.


Beware El Puerco de la Muerte!

January 16, 2010

Awesome swine flu mural across from Langer’s Deli in Macarthur Park


My New (Various Shades of) Pink Button

January 13, 2010

My New Pink Button is one of those products that solves a problem I wasn’t aware existed.  For those who have wisely learned not to click on links I put up here, I’ll elaborate.  It’s essentially a spackle for the external parts of the female genitalia that serves to “pink up” the overall area for a limited time.

Not only did I not realize there was a market for snatch paint, but apparently it’s got multiple market segments.  The products page lists four different colors, adorably named after famous sex & glamor icons of the 20th century.  There’s the Marilyn, the Bettie (Page), the Ginger (from Giligan’s Island?) and the Audry, which I can only assume is a misspelling of the first name of Audrey Hepburn.

Being a boy, I like naked women.   But in all my time of thinking about Marilyn Monroe, Bettie Page or Ginger from Gilligan’s Island, I never once wondered what color their labia were.  And as lovely as she is, I certainly never watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s and wondered what color Audrey Hepburns’ clitoris was.  In fact, I wonder how you arrive at those names in particular.  I wish I could have been in the naming brainstorming session where they reviewed & rejected options.  I wonder what would have been the least popular name they could have come up with for a tone of Pink Snapper (that, by the way, is what I would have called the product if they had asked me).  I bet Janet Reno color, or possibly Mother Theresa.