Adam J. Choit

Anyone ever tell you that?  Humans will often tell each other, “you need to get out more” when the person is in the midst of “nerding out.”  I mean, if I’m being way overly analytical and statistical about sports for example, someone might tell me, “You really need to get out more.”  It doesn’t have to be sports, but really any obsession requires a break at one point or another.  If someone has been playing Xbox for the last 36 hours straight, they probably “need to get out more.”

In saying all that though, getting out more isn’t always the solution.  I reached this conclusion the other day.  I was in the car riding shotgun, with my friend at the wheel.  He announced to me that later that day his car was going to hit 123,456 (or 1-2-3-4-5-6) miles on the odometer.  He noted this rather meaningless milestone with a sense of both pride and joy.  I told him he needed to get out more.  Soon thereafter though, I realized my suggestion may not have been the best one.  The thing is, if he’s already significantly over 120,000 miles on his car, hasn’t he been doing his share of going out already?

Not that I ever had the desire to “go out” every night of the week, but I’ve known people who tend (or at one time in his/her life) to go out four, five, or even six nights a week, drinking and partying.  And some of them are not even alcoholics.  Nevertheless, going out that much comes with it’s costs.  Well, literally the cost/money itself could be an issue –  in addition to the toll it takes on the body/lack of sleep/hangovers, etc.

So, while some people probably do need to get out more, others probably need to stay in more.  Staying in too much can make you crazy, but going out too much can do the same.  It’s all about balance, people — and also choosing the right condescending words to your friends when you want to bust their balls (or ovaries, for that matter).

They (whoever “they” are), always seem to say that funerals aren’t for the dead, and that they are for the living.  Well, if that’s true, then weddings aren’t for the bride and groom, they are for the guests —- at least in the following case:

A friend of mine recently told me a story about a time when he worked as security in a downtown Los Angeles high-rise, in a building that often hosted events such as wedding parties.  I figured I’d forward this story along.

Inside the building there was a fancy private club on the bottom floor.  During an “upper class” wedding this one time, my friend and other members of the security team got called downstairs for a “disturbance.”  Upon his arrival, my friend witnessed the groom (obviously drunk as all hell) running around the room, yelling at the bride, “You fucked every guy in here you whore!”  Wow.  I can’t think of a better way for a couple to start off their new life together as a married couple.

Needless to say, the groom had to be removed…from his own wedding.  My friend and the rest of security had to physically remove the guy from the premises, and put him in a cab.  While they were carrying the groom out of his own wedding, the groom was giving all the security guys big hugs, and saying stuff like, “You guys are the best.  Fuck everyone else in there, they fucked my wife…but you guys are cool.”

This being one of the most drunken debaucherous weddings ever, even after the groom had left, the party continued on — as if nothing even happened.  I wonder if the bride ended up going on the honeymoon with someone other than the groom.

Ok, I’m not saying you should go out there and murder someone and then eat them, just that to some degree it is our societal and cultural associations with certain meats that makes eating them seem wrong.

Who cares about cows, fish, and chickens…They’re a bunch of nobodies! But what about cats and dogs? Lambs are kinda too cute to eat, too. They fall somewhere in between eating a cow and eating a kitten, in terms of what’s generally acceptable in our society.

Anyway, even though I haven’t had all that much exotic cuisine in my lifetime, I have a theory that many exotic meats do taste good, if prepared right — and if we have no idea what the hell we’re eating when it’s served to us.

On the grill perhaps, with a little Teriyaki sauce, and maybe with a side of potatoes — if you didn’t know any better, you might enjoy eating human if it’s prepared well for ya.

Well, Election Day is almost here, and I’m sure many of you out there are going to rush out to vote.  For the first time ever, I might actually vote in a non-presidential year, admittedly more motivated this time due to Proposition 19 on the California ballot, which is for the legalization of marijuana for recreational usage.

Anyway, there are also many people out there who don’t vote, or rarely vote, and you know what? — that’s fine, too.  Many “voters” out there will tell you it’s wrong not to vote, or that if one doesn’t vote, he/she doesn’t have the right to complain about politics following an election.  Another popular guilt-trip smuggy voters will lay on you is, “There are people who died so you have the right to vote.”  Maybe so, but lets not forget, Americans in the past also died for you to have the right not to vote.   That’s right, they fought so you have that CHOICE.

Smuggy voters just annoy me.  You could be politically active for 364 days a year, and not vote, and some voters will see you as an asshole and think they’ve done more to contribute to society than you.

All I’m saying is if you wanna vote, vote — and if you don’t, that’s swell with me too.

Everyone’s had their fair share of late-night drunken drama — some more so than others.  Not that I’ve haven’t said/done things I’ve regretted under the influence, but even so, I’m certain I have far less regrets than those of the average person, or at least compared to most of the people I know.  It’s actually one of my pet peeves when people use alcohol as an excuse for behavior.

“Why did you do that?”

“I was drunk.”

Whatever.

Anyway, often a drunk person will say/do something that will upset a sober/more sober person.

Here’s my advice to the sober person in the situation.  LET IT GO, at least for that night.   If you confront a drunk friend about something he/she is doing that’s bothering you, don’t expect a positive response.  Expect a defensive, possibly volatile response.

The best strategy is to let things go, then have a rational discussion the next day, about whatever happened the previous night…assuming the drunk person remembers at least a little bit of what happened…

Just to quickly get it out of the way, there is no question for me when it comes to believing that the legal drinking age should be 18.   The gambling, drinking, and smoking age should all be 18.  EVERYTHING should be 18.

I mean, can we please have some uniformity here?  You can get shot for our country in the military, but can’t have whiskey if it’s the only available anesthetic?  Nonsense.

Anyway, this dude once told me a silly story from when he once worked at a bar/club.  He was a bouncer/doorman type.   His duty was to check the I.D.’s of people entering, and believe it or not, a scrawny kid at the door once tried to show him a fake….

Oh, but this wasn’t just any ordinary fake I.D. —- on this I.D. was a photo of well, you guessed it — the doorman himself.  It was his old I.D. !

“Uh, I don’t think this is you.”

“But it is”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not.”

“How do you know I’m not you?”

(I made up that last part of the exchange…)

I actually enjoy the taste of Pepto Bismol.  In fact, with my friend Steve, I discussed the idea of possibly making a cocktail with the Pepto.   Vodka/Pepto Bismol perhaps.   Steve suggested I call it a “Pinko Commie.”

So I told another friend I went window shopping recently.  He asked me if I bought anything.  I replied, “Yes.  I bought a window.”

At a recent party I went to, they had some grilled chicken available for everyone.  As Naughty By Nature’s O.P.P. played, I walked around eating this chicken.   Yes, I let everyone there know, I’m down with “Other People’s Poultry.”

I consider myself basically a decent person, but I’ll often think about doing (and saying) horrible things, with almost never following through on them.  To be honest, and especially under the influence of alcohol, I’m still much more likely to say something dumb than to do something dumb…..that’s just how I roll.

Anyway, last night I was at a house party, and while sitting on a couch, I noticed the coffee table in front of me was covered with Polaroids of the party’s attendees.  The photos had names on them, written with a black Sharpie.

Not too far from me was a dog —– an off-white-ish dog.   I soon grabbed the Sharpie and yelled out, “Who wants to play tic-tac-toe on this dog?”

Sure we’ve all seen and/or heard stories about writing on the faces of passed out drunk people, but this would be taking it to a whole new level.   Imagine waking up and realizing that nobody has written on you, but on your dog?

Of course I didn’t end up playing tic-tac-toe on the dog, but I didn’t hold back because of scruples, but more so because the dog was too cute to tamper with.    If it had been an uglier dog or one of those purse dogs, well……

It’s this same image/public relations bullshit that existed with FDR — how the public never really saw him in his wheelchair.  If photographs or video were regularly shown with President Obama smoking cigarettes, would all hell break loose?

I suppose on many levels, it’s wrong for kids to see a “leader” smoking, and this can become a poor influence on them.  Having said all that, shouldn’t it ultimately be the parents responsibility to guide their child away from smoking?  Besides, George W. Bush didn’t smoke, is that someone you really want your child to emulate?

The thing is, everybody just looks cooler smoking (besides the elderly and ugly people).   I say Obama should smoke during speeches.  That’d be so baddass.   “That’s right I’m the President of the United States and I don’t give a fuck.  Now let’s sign some motherfucking treaties.”

For some reason obscenities and cigarettes go hand in hand for me.

Whatever, let’s just continue to “protect” people and go the politically correct route.  After all, we want people to be treated equally, yet let us hide cigarette smokers and those confined to wheelchairs.

I hope our next President is paraplegic smoker.

With my L.A. Parks Department recreational baseball team starting another season this weekend, I’m reminded of some quirky aspects of playing in this league.

For example, all of the fields we play at here in L.A. do NOT permit the consumption of alcohol on the premises.

That’s fine, especially for a public park setting.  But this is basically the sign they post — http://rlv.zcache.com/no_alcohol_sign_invitation-p1614603201490565152d8jg_210.jpg

“A No Martini Field?”  Who’s drinking Martinis at an L.A. Parks department amateur baseball game anyway?

At least they don’t post this one, which is even more baffling — http://thenonconformer.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/no_alcohol.jpg

This is a NO MARTINIS IN WINE GLASSES SERVED WITH AN OLIVE FIELD?