blogclubformen.com

You may have seen from the news that a serial killer who was recently given the death penalty for murdering four women and a child between 1977 to 1979, Rodney Alcala, was actually a winning bachelor on "The Dating Game" in 1978.

While the media has picked up on a few of his answers as being relevantly creepy ("What's your best time?" "Nighttime.") and predictive, I have an actual transcript that shows his serial killer nature even more explicitly:

Question: Bachelor #1, we go on our second date. I don't like the beach or the movies. Where would you take me?
Answer: I'd blindfold you and drive you somewhere secluded where just the two of us could enjoy a very special time.

Question: Bachelor #1, if we got into an argument and I told you to leave, what would you do?
Answer: Oh no, we can't have that. I don't even let Mother talk to me in that tone. I'm not a naughty boy and don't deserve to be punished!

Question: Bachelor #1, what do you look for in a girl that you want to date?
Answer: Weak arms and no long fingernails.

Question: Bachelor #1, what is the most appealing part of your personality?
Answer: It depends whether or not I've given into the rage or appeased it with a sacrifice.

Question: Bachelor #1, it's our fourth date, and I've invited you into my home. What base would you try to get to?
Answer: Fourteenteen red.

Question: Bachelor #2, why should I choose you?
Answer: Well, first of all, because I'm not a fucking serial killer. I mean, c'mon, have any of you even been listening to Bachelor #1? He's creeping me out with the drooling and Charles Manson hair and the way he keeps touching himself. I'm telling you, if you go with him, you will die.

Question: Bachelor #1, same question.
Answer: Because you and I would fit together like a glove and a ball, or like a skin suit and a person wearing said skin suit.
(Bachelor #2): SEE??!??

I'd transcribe more, but that's when he pulled the dead cat out from his jacket and began to swing it around his head by the tail and called it his Jesus Helicopter Cat. You can't get much more explicit than that, people.

Ahhhh, once again I have a hockey team to play on. At least for the remainder of this season which will be about 9 more games including playoffs, I will be on the ice every Thursday night. I am very happy about that to say the least.

Now if I can get rid of this sore throat funk, on again off again small fever, overall feeling of exhaustion, that would be great. It’s not strep but the doc gave me an antibiotic anyway just to nip anything in the bud as he put it. I thought it might be from all the yard work I did Sunday, but it got worse and lingers annoyingly.

One week from tonight I will be at the house of blues watching Ben Folds playing his piano in person. Ummm, I think we still need a babysitter. Any takers? The sister in law moved away today so our normal go to person is now gone. Only 100 miles away, but a bit far to go for a simple night out.

Really looking forward to our big road trip in 2 weeks. Gonna meet my niece, gonna meet some of my Internet friends, and I’m pretty sure I’ll get a round of golf in with the father in law. More than anything, I desperately need the separation from my work for a week. Desperately.

I will be at BlogHer this year too. All I need is my airline ticket, and final approval for my time off and that will be that. I don’t have a pass to the conference, but I’m not really going for that. I’m going to meet some friends in real life, have a great time partying with said friends, and hanging out in my favorite city on Earth. After the show I’ll hang around for a few days and visit my family and old friends on the Island as well as take in a Mets game. So if you’re going, make sure we find each other. If you read my blog, I want to meet you.

Last weekend we went to the festival of chocolate, this weekend we’re going to the strawberry festival. My favorite fruit, yum.

Cool. Talk soon.

I’ve gained 7 pounds. Not sure why. I have been exercising. Isn’t that the point of moving, to LOSE weight? Or at least not gain any?

Sigh.

Waiting. I hate it. Yesterday, I waited with Mom at the doctor’s. Almost an hour. With weak Edge, at best.

Visit went well. Mom is now officially without both her leg brace and the thumb brace. We should hear from PT this week to schedule her therapy. You couldn’t pay me to be in that room when they start working her knee. I’m not ready to hear my Mom talk like Hilly.

Fucking cocksnuggling sonofaWHORE! Touch that knee again and I’ll rip off your head and shit down your neck, you festering pool of donkey piss!

Today, we went to Social Security to ask a few questions. They have a brilliant system. If you go into Social Security at, say, 15 years old…then, by the time you get to the window, you’re probably eligible for Medicare.

They also tell you to turn your cell phone off before entering. Whatever. Listen, I’m barely convinced that my cell phone is a threat on a plane 33,000 feet in the air. I’m certainly not shutting it off in the Social Security office. I did, however, mute it.

What? I’ve got to get my Moxie on.

Patience. I don’t have much of it. I quit asking God to give me patience, because it inevitably means He provides me a shitton of situations in which I HAVE to be patient. Screw that. I don’t have the patience to gain patience legitimately.

I don’t like waiting, especially when the ball is totally not in my court. I chomp at the bit, grasping at something to do while I sit around and do, well, nothing. Waiting on YOU. Ugh.

Waiting on friends. Waiting on doctors. Waiting on the assclown in front of me in the checkout line at the grocery store to pay with all coins. Waiting on my meds in the mail. Waiting on 2HT to be finished. Waiting on April to get here so I can see Shannon. Hate it all.

SecondHand Radio Returns

One thing I have been waiting for is SecondHand Radio to return. It’s been months since Mom broke her kneecap. I tried one show after that and it didn’t go over well. I needed a break while Mom healed from her break. Well, she’s walking around now – slowly, but steadily – without a splint, so that’s good.

Thursday at 10pm Eastern, 2HRadio comes back. My guest is the lovely Maria, aka Mommy Melee.

Please mark your calendars, tell your friends. We’re back. I’m returning to one show a week, though. Thursday nights. Twice a week was too much.

Live chatroom to play in while the show is on. You’re all welcome to call in and talk to Maria, say hi, ask questions, whatever. Go to the SecondHand Radio page and get all the info.

Looking forward to it. I’ve missed my show. Thankfully, the waiting for that is nearly over.

I haven’t lined up any other guests. If you know of someone you’d like to hear as a guest, let me know. Even if it’s you.

a

Nana (pictured here with Uncle Saddam)

My grandmother, pictured above with her second favorite dictator, passed away Friday night. This is the same grandmother I've written about previously. She was suffering from the late stages of Alzheimer's, and her death, while sad, was merciful.

Eileen was the oldest of 15 children. She raised many of her younger brothers and sisters as if they were her own children, and supported many of them, paying for college and other expenses, just like a parent. She was the matriarch to the Irish Catholic side of my family. By the time I knew her, she was the very strict, serious, older lady that you didn't dare disappoint. She was very religious, never swore, was fair to each grandchild to a fault, and disapproved of fully half of anything that a child would do. This isn't to say that she didn't love – she cared deeper than she showed, and loved everyone equally and unconditionally. But you sure as fuck didn't want to do anything to disappoint her. "You had better hope that your Nana doesn't hear about this!" was a familiar mantra heard around my home. Today, I got the chance to interview her posthumously which means, thankfully, that her mental state had returned to how she used to be. (NOTE: The following is a PARODY and in no way reflects my actual grandmother, who was about as close to a saint as you could possibly be.)

Me: Hi Nana.

Nana: Hi dear.

Me: I'm sorry you're not here anymore. I miss you.

Nana: Is that why you only visited me once when I was in the home?

Me: It was too hard to see you like that. And I didn't think you'd really want any of us to see you in that state.

Nana: So does this mean you're skipping my funeral too?

Me: If it wasn't to be there for Mom and Papa, I wouldn't go to that, either.

Nana: And what's this I hear about you getting a divorce?

Me: Ohhh, ummm, yeah.

Nana: You know you're going to hell, right?

Me: For getting a divorce? That's not fair.

Nana: No, not for the divorce – that's just what you get for living in sin before you got married.

Me: Then why?

Nana: Because I can see everything now – and there is no way God is letting you into heaven with all of that porn you look at.

Me: You can see THAT?!?

Nana: Yes, and you should be ashamed of yourself. If I wasn't already dead, finding out that there's something called "tranny porn" would have killed me on the spot. And then how would you have liked finding out that you killed your poor grandmother?

Me: But I didn't! And that was just for research purposes.

Nana: You need a hand down your pants to research?

Me: I . . Uh . . Um . . .

Nana: I'm just fucking with you.

Me: NANA!!!

Nana: What? Can't a woman drop an f-bomb on you?

Me: Not when you're my Nana, and I've never even heard you say "hell"!

Nana: I usually reserved that type of language for the bedroom.

Me: Oh God.

Nana: You don't want to hear about me and your grandfather having sex? You do know that your mother wasn't immaculately conceived, even if she's convinced you she was, right?

Me: No no no no no no (rocking back and forth)

Nana: I used to joke that your Papa's name was destined to be Howie . . .

Me: Please stop (crying)

Nana: . . . as in "how he makes me feel down there"

Me: shh shh shh shh no shhh shh

Nana: And by "down there", I mean my vagina.

Me: GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…..

Roy Scheider
Zelda Rubinstein and J.D. Salinger
Brittany Murphy
Oral Roberts
John Lennon
Ken Ober
Henry Gibson
Patrick Swayze
Ted Kennedy
John Hughes
Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett
Walter Cronkite
Billy Mays
Ed McMahon
Stephen Hawking
Robert Novak
Caylee Anthony
David Carradine
Martin Luther King, Jr.

Every year, on the day after my birthday, I like to take stock of my life to make sure that everything is running as smoothly as a Swiss watch.

That’s why I made an appointment for this morning to see Doctor Teitelbaum, my family doctor.

“How’s it going with you and Sophia?” he asked as he took my blood pressure.

“Not good at all.”

“I know. I know.”

“How do you know?”

“Sophia already told me when she came in for her checkup two weeks ago.”

“She did?”

Dr. Teitelbaum received a telephone call.

“I’ll be back.” he said, and Emily, Dr. Teitelbaum’s nurse, came in to take my blood.

“And how’s everything, Neil?” Emily asked as she stabbed the needle in my arm. “Any health problems I need to put on the chart?”

“No.”

“You sure? Any lack of sexual desire?  Difficulty with erections?  Premature ejaculation?   Crying after sex?  Inability to find the clitoris?  Lack of affection?   Bad kissing technique?”

“Uh, no. Everything is fine.  Why?  What did you hear?”

“Just part of the yearly check-up.”

She bandaged me up.

“Thanks, Neil. Regards to Sophia!” she said, as she exited.  “Please tell her to call me when you return to New York.   We wanted to check out that new club in Manhattan Beach!”

Dr. Teitelbaum returned, reading a chart.

“OK, I’m back.   Hmmm….”  he murmered with a worried look on his face.

“Is there a problem.”

“Just reading your blog’s chart. How’s the blog this year? How’s your readership?”

“Oh, it’s great. My readers are terrific.”

“I’m not quite sure about your demographic.”

“What do you see?”

He handed me my blog’s chart.

“Well, according to Quantcast, the professional web tool used to quantify the size and characteristics of those engaged with your digital media. most of your readership consists of poor middle-aged Asian men who make 0-30K year.”

“It is?  It thought most of my readers were MILFs!?”

“No, Neil.  You are imagining that.   Why would they want to read you when they can read Bossy or the Bloggess?  Maybe it is time that you start writing more posts about poor middle-aged Asian men.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“No. Doctor’s orders.”

“OK, OK.”

Dr, Teiltelbaum pulled over his chair and patted me on the knee in a fatherly manner.

“So, Neil. Anything else? Anything else you want to tell me about?”

“I’m feeling pretty good. Solid. Looking forward to my new year of life with a positive attitude.”

“I see. That’s great. But what about the incident with your father-in-law’s dentures?”

“What?!” I shouted. “How did you know about that?”

“The pretty brunette who saw you in the car — just happens to be my patient. The minute she described the scenario, I knew it was you.”

“It was nothing. Really nothing.”

“That’s NOT what she thought. Or her friend who was walking with her.”

“It’s just… been very chaotic lately, with me rushing back and forth between home and my father-in-law’s. When I took those tupperwear containers back home from their home, I didn’t realize that his dentures was in one of the containers. So when Sophia called up, her mother screaming in the background, thinking they were lost, the whole situation made me jumpy. I rushed out of the supermarket, where I was buying milk and orange juice, and ran to the car parked outside, just to make sure I still had the dentures in the car. I was so relived to find them in the glove compartment, but because of my anxiety, I dropped the container out of the open passenger’s side door, the container flipped open on the surface of the parking lot,  and the dentures rolled under the car. I immediately slid under the car to retrieve them, banging my head on the car door.  Then, I sat inside the car again to clean them off using a bottle of water I found in the back seat. I was worrying about his dentures, not the water splashing on the front of my pants.”

“So, are you saying that she and her friend  were MISTAKEN about you giving yourself a blowjob with a pair of dentures and THEN coming in your pants.  They thought you were a pervert!”

“Of course they were wrong. That’s ridiculous.  Sick!”

Dr. Teitelbaum stood, closing my file.

“OK, Neil, everything seems to be the same with you this year. You are in good health. Just one thing….”

Dr. Teitelbaum reached over to grab a bag full of pill samples.

“I am recommending you take these. Every day.  Sometimes twice a day.”

As he handed them over to me –

“Happy Birthday,” he said.

Truth Quotient — 56% – 67% depending on the reading

P.S. — Thanks for all the birthday greetings yesterday!

I love music. I don’t know where I’d be without it, honestly. One thing the iPhone (iPod) does really well is music. I use Smart Playlists to sync songs all the time, love my iPod.

And there are some great music apps for the iPhone, too. Thought I’d share a handful of my favorites with you.

Moodagent – FREE

Moodagent is a really cool app I discovered not long ago, and best of all, it’s FREE. It profiles the music you have on your iPod and then lets you automagically create playlists based on your mood. Yes, your mood. You move five different sliders around. Based on the five sliders – Sensual, Tender, Joy, Aggressive, and Tempo – you figure out how you’re feeling, make the adjustments and then Moodagent does the rest.

The result is a playlist of 25 songs that all match your mood, like so.

You can also save and load playlists you’ve created with Moodagent. And if you’re not feeling the slider thing at the moment, you can click on the Search (magnifying glass) icon and hand-select any song on your iPod. Moodagent will then adjust the sliders accordingly for that song and create your playlist based on the song.

Very, very cool. Plus, it integrates with your iPod, so you can start a playlist, then exit Moodagent, and have your music still playing. (Unlike most music apps. At least, until Apple allows multitasking.)

Last.fm – FREE

Been using Last.fm for years now. It came before Pandora did. It’s a social music site. You sign up, create a profile, and it keeps track of your favorite music for you. That’s the basics. You can also use it like Pandora…enter an artist or song, and Last.fm will create a custom music station based on your selection.

Last.fm tracks all the songs you listen to. In fact, my favorite thing about Last.fm is what they call “scrobbling.” Thanks to a small download, every time I sync my iPhone through iTunes, Last.fm scrobbles all the songs I’ve played and uploads them to my account. It organizes everything…how often I’ve played each song, etc.

And my “neighbors” (friends) on Last.fm have access to my library, too. They can  listen to MY “station,” which is a great way to find great music. Another great way is to listen to your “recommended” music. Based on the music you’ve scrobbled so far, Last.fm finds recommended artists and puts them into a special station for you. Rocking service that I think everyone should be using.

Simplify Music 2 – $7.99

Simplify Music 2 is another great app. I got it for free a while back; now it’s $7.99, but it’s worth every penny.

Simply put, Simplify 2 lets you stream all the music in your iTunes to your iPod/iPhone. Now you don’t have to worry that you can’t fit all your music into that phone of yours…you have access to your entire music library. Provided you have iTunes up and running, of course. It forms a network connection between the Simplify app on your phone and the Simplify app on your computer.

Works fantastically.

Slacker Radio – FREE

Don’t get me wrong, I love Pandora, but rarely use it these days, thanks to Last.fm and Slacker Radio. Slacker is very similar to Pandora – you create custom music stations based on songs/artists you like. Again, it’s a great way to find new artists.

The difference, to  me, is that I think Slacker puts together a more organic sounding mix based on my selection. They put songs together that I’d never think to put together, but once I hear them together they click and make sense. Love, love, love.

Plus, I can select from musical genre stations. Sure, there’s your typical “80’s, 90’s, and Today” station, but I can choose from Reggae or Blues or any number of genres I want to hear. The only caveat is the occasional 15-second commercial (unless you buy the premium subscription, but it’s not required).

I can even listen to stand-up comedy. For instance, Steven Wright. Creates a comedy station just for me. Nice.

Great sound that streams via WiFi.

SoundHound – $4.99

How many times have you heard a song on the radio, or in someone’s car, and wondered who sings it? Look no further.

Load up SoundHound, tap the TAP HERE button, and let your phone listen to that song. SoundHound is remarkably accurate and should have your song for you in a matter of seconds. You can even hum or sing a song yourself and get results!

From there, you can Bookmark a song, Share it (Email, Twitter, Facebook), and even Buy it. It also looks up the lyrics for you, and corresponding Youtube videos.

GREAT app that will never leave my iPhone. I was lucky enough to get it for free way back when, but again…worth every penny.

Wunder Radio – $6.99

Listen to most any radio station around the world, people. Add in Weather radio, police and fire rescue scanners, accessibility for subscription satellite radio (Sirius/XM), and you have Wunder Radio. Damn cool app.

Find stations based on genre (talk, sports, pop music, new age, rap, etc.) or location (Great Britain, Australia, wherever). Listen to police scanners from your old neck of the woods (provided they’re in the list). Sometimes I tune in to some Dallas radio stations, just to hear the ads for my old hometown. Or British radio, same reason.

Streams great over 3G or WiFi.

There you have it…great apps to help you stay in touch with your favorite music, maybe even find some amazing NEW stuff to listen to.

You’re welcome. How about you? Have any fave music apps on your iPhone or iPod Touch?

a

I need your help today. I need us to ban together and focus on one, perhaps unattainable goal.  I know you’re busy. I’m busy. But sometimes we need to set aside some time to do something for someone who richly deserves it. Someone I can guarantee is as busy as anyone I know, yet he’ll happily take the time (make the time) for a friend.  Or a stranger.

I first followed Outnumberedisme on twitter because his last name is Mayo.  Do I need any more? I don’t think so.  If you have Mayo in your name, you’re like my family.  The brother I never had.  Right now it’s OutnumberedOnline, Mayo Pie and Richard Gere from Officer and A Gentleman.  We’re kind of like the 3 Musketeers, but we could probably take the actual musketeers in hand-to-hand combat.  Hear that, Kiefer Sutherland, Oliver Platt and Charlie Sheen? (They were in the 1993 remake.) The Brothers Mayo will fuck you up.  I call Charlie.

Let’s set aside my fantasy Hollywood rumbles for a second. Sometimes my mind has a way of drift…

Outnumbered just delivered a tiger claw to the throat of Oliver Platt while sitting on his chest after just having executed some of the most vicious purple nurples this mind’s eye has ever seen.  I’ve already dispatched of Charlie with a Karate Kid Crane-kick… Officer Mayo is chewing on Kiefer’s ear with a move he calls “the angry gerbil”.  I’m laughing so hard about that while going through Charlie’s pocket for drugs and his little black book.

That’s how it would go down. I’m telling you. We are so bad ass.

Anyway, back to why we’re here tod..

Uh oh. I hear sirens. To the Brothers Mayo Mobile!! They’ve never caught us before. Today will be no different.  I insist on driving. They never let me (older brothers can be assholes sometimes), but Outnumbered hurt his hand or something when he was giving Oliver a wet willy.  The eldest of us is still in gerbil mode, scratching wildly in every direction.  We have to put him in the trunk again.

People think I have ADD. I think that’s ridi…

Stop yelling at me! I know how to drive!

But I can focus. One of my friends has to take all the questions she asks me in e-mails and recap them at the bottom.  It’s sooo helpful.  I love chocolate.

I’m not getting on the freeway! That’s suicide! do you know how hard it is to drive with someone yelling at you? Especially when every cop in the city is chasing you?  And… the Chinese army?  Fuck.  Will you tranquilize him or something? That scratching is driving me crazy.

So this is going exactly where you thought it would go. I’ve been experimenting with a writing tool called “foreshadowing”.  The lead up to the pay-off, so to speak. Letting the story unfold a little so that you, the reader, can take part in piecing the puzzle together. Like a word detective.

In conclusion, OutNumbered was referred to me by IzzyMom as someone who might be able to help him acquire the love of one Neil Diamond, as Outnumbered is probably Neil’s single biggest fan.  I agreed to help, because I am soooo bored. Vagina.  And there you have why we are here today, though I’m sure most of you figured that out by now. I’m really just recapping for those of you who were drinking or whatever.  The first step is admitting you have a problem.

Is that a Terminator? When did the Chinese army get a terminator? Fuck! Ok, we’re going to have to convert to jet mode.  Arm the plasma missiles. We might have to cloak.  Shut up, cloaking isn’t for pussies.  We don’t have time for this right now.  I am acutely aware that Terminators see infra-red, that’s what the missiles are for. Confusion.  I’m not a baby.

So here’s the problem:  Neil Diamond doesn’t really follow anyone on twitter. In fact, he follows no one at all.  That makes sense.  However, he’s recently been soliciting on twitter for good jokes.  So maybe here is where we should start:

One of the last jokes Neil chose to use was, “What do you call someone else’s cheese? Nacho cheese.”

I love that one, but we can do better. So let’s get on twitter and tell Neil some jokes, making sure to include @Outnumberedisme in each.  We’ll call this phase 1.  And let’s keep it clean, because Neil likes his jokes clean, I think. Here’s an example:

@NeilDiamond @Outnumberedisme Why did the chicken cross the road? He was Coming to America.

I totally just made that up. Just now. I’ll bet you can’t tell.

In fact, we can just Retweet that one. I think he’ll like it because it incorporates a classic and one of the greatest songs ever, all in one uproarious good time.

I ask for your assistance. I ask for ideas. I ask for your commitment to the cause. I ask for you to become an honorary brother and the family will always have your back. Whenever you need us, we will be there.

Today begins our quest.  Rest assured, while full of awesome super hero goodness, this post will not get the job done.  Today is simply the inital courting stages. Today is the day we put Neil Diamond on notice. 

If you’re interested in joining the cause, you can leave a comment here or e-mail me at mayopie.ba@gmail.com or just tell me how stupid I am and how I totally deserve to get fire…

After having saved the city from the evil musketeers, the Brothers Mayo returned to their lair with the spoils of war they so richly deserved. And partied like it was 1999.

Just Another day at the office for the Brothers Mayo.

I realize there are at least 4 Canadians that read my blog.  And I’d like you to know that the Brothers Mayo, while based in America, are friends to our Canadian brethren.  You fall under our umbrella of protection (within 100 miles of the border, check website for map).  We ask that you join our fight. We ask that we put aside our differences. That we combine our efforts to reach the pinnacle of achievement. Together. The USA and The Canada. United We stand, divided we fall, ay?

Fuckin’ ay right.