| Stories 1 to 7 of 125 |
|
6/6/2011
Memorial Day for me means The Indy 500 and one of my favorite pursuits...road tripping! When I was 9 my Dad and I drove to Indy from New York in his baby blue Olds Cutlass 442 for my first Indianapolis 500. It was supposed to be an 12 hour drive (with the old National 55 mph speed limit). We'd make it to our hotel in downtown Indy in just over 10 hours with a tourist-type stop along the way. My Dad was like Clark Griswold meets AJ Foyt. Pop sounded like Cliff Clavin from Cheers with a NY accent. "Alright on this trip we will make a slight detour to the Gettysburg Battlefield, we'll visit Little Round Top and Cemetery Ridge, hit White Castle for lunch and then hop back on the interstate". He had it down to a science. My job as "navigator" was to watch out for state troopers and hand him beers from the styrofoam cooler in the back seat and open a fresh pack of Marlboros when needed. My dad was a Schaefer man, "the one beer to have if your having more than one" as their jingle went. On the rare occasion that we did ...
Read More
|
3/10/2011
After another fun dysfunctional Thanksgiving weekend in Vegas with my crew of fellow misfits, I couldn’t put off seeing the family any longer. I would have to go to New York for Christmas. They say “you can’t pick your family” but I can pick a nice hotel. It’s a pretty good system , I stay in Manhattan and take the Long Island Railroad out to see the family at my Mom’s house on Christmas Day, that way I always have an escape plan and I minimize aggravation from the annoying relatives. “Wow look at the time, geez I better get going if I want to catch that 6:05 train back to Penn Station”. The rest of the weekend I spend with old High School friends hitting parties and bar hopping. On Christmas Eve at my friend Christine’s house in Massapequa (Jerry Seinfeld says that Massapequa is an old Indian name that means “near the Mall”) I got stuck having to dress up as Santa to give presents to the dozens of cousins and nephews assembled. They couldn’t find the pants for Santa’s outfit so I was wearing a beard, hat, red coat and Guess jeans. Combine that with the two ...
Read More
|
7/7/2010
Warning: adult language!!!
Once again I’ve fallen woefully behind in updating my never ending quest for shenanigans. Here’s the part where I explain how a guy who works just 3 hours a day can’t find the time to hammer out a few paragraphs about partying once a month. Here’s the straight dope. Its the girlfriend again. Well actually it involves 2 girls, first there was this 22 year old knockout who I met in Dublin (you’ll read about her later). I really digged her and didn’t want to cock block myself by talking about the other chicks I hooked up with while I was in Ireland. I was all set to fly her to meet me in Miami but she went online and read my other columns so it was a moot point. I must’ve really creeped her out, she even un-friended me on facebook! Shoot, long distance never works anyway, but how often do you find a brunette spinner nearly half your age who can match you drink for drink, fucks like a rabbit and loves Formula One? After I got back from Ireland we had the Orange Bowl and Super Bowl and a trip to Vegas for the Mayweather-Mosely fight. Then ...
Read More
|
1/25/2010
Part 1: Escape from New York
There’s always a pluses and minuses to being single at the holidays. On the one hand you’re saving a ton of dough on presents. A trip back to New York now means plenty of nights hanging with High School pals pounding brews. And no girlfriend wants hear hours of drunken re-hashing of the good ole days anyway. Being solo also means not having to deal with the mobs of tourists trying to catch a glimpse of the tree at Rockefeller Center with your girlfriend. Not to mention I didn’t have to drop fifty bucks on the stupid carriage ride through Central Park. On the other hand you have to find somebody to stick your tongue down their throat when the ball drops on New Year’s Eve. So when my friend Allan and his smoking hot fiancé Fran invited me to their wedding in Ireland, I said to myself, “Self, what a perfect vacation, do a couple nights in the city then grab a cheap flight to Dublin from JFK, do a week on the Emerald Isle, hook up with some Irish chicks”. Of course to get there I’d have to make my flight on ...
Read More
|
12/8/2009
by Mike Bell
I don’t think anyone is surprised anymore when a high profile athlete gets nailed for cheating on his wife. Most of us gave up on these guys as role models decades ago. But Tiger Woods’ extra marital shenanigans caught a lot of us off guard. This guy is the gold standard. From his out of the world game to his perfectly pressed golf slacks to his smoking hot Swedish model wife, his life seemingly could not be more perfect. But as my Dad used to say, show me the hottest woman in the world and I’ll show you a guy who’s sick of banging her. Maybe she’s an ice princess, maybe she’s a sweetheart, we won’t know for a while (or until she has her 60 Minutes interview). What we do know is that Tiger can’t keep his driver in the bag. By the time this circus is over he may have more admitted mistresses than majors won. I’m not gonna get all high and mighty here, people cheat on their spouses all the time, but…Tiger looks like an asshole because there’s kids involved. You wanna play hide the salami in Vegas, you wanna bang chicks in limos in Manhattan? ...
Read More
|
10/8/2009
What was higher, the exchange rate or my blood alcohol level?
Europeans have no rhythm, it’s true. Every time I hit a club over here, I’m still amazed that these clowns still can’t figure out how to dance to the beat. Even the black guys can’t dance in Europe! Meanwhile at the club…I was a short, fat, sweaty version of John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. I was the king of the dance floor at O’Sullivan’s an Irish bar with a huge disco in the Montmartre section of Paris, just a few doors down from the legendary Moulin Rouge. When my girlfriend went to the ladies room the French chicks were all over me. It was like that scene in Close Encounters when the little aliens take Richard Dreyfuss by the hand up to the big space ship at the end of the movie. “You must dance, you must dance with me” said a brunette with a big rack and crazy eyes. Meanwhile a blonde girl was picking up my girlfriend’s drink and moving it to another table. I guess this was their way of planting the flag with a dude by moving the other chick out. I snatched the ...
Read More
|
8/12/2009
WARNING: Childish writing with adult language
Like many Americans I’ve been tightening the belt this Summer, drinking Yuengling instead of Heineken, going with table dances instead of the V.I.P. room. And cutting back on Vegas. Ok, so it’s not exactly an austerity budget, but the good news is I’ve been saving dough by traveling on the company’s dime. TNT debuted it’s new cop show “Dark Blue” last month. They flew a bunch of radio hosts from around the country to Hollywood for a “media junket”. The media junket is one of the greatest inventions of all time, just behind the V-8 engine and baby wipes. This media junket meant a free trip to L.A., free limo ride to a swank West Hollywood Hotel, free dinner and free booze. Oh yeah, and sprinkled in there somewhere we interview the actors of the new show. The last one of these I did was last Fall for the TBS Comedy Fest at Caesar’s Palace. My buddy Kevin and I lucked into the “Rain Man” suite and partied like rock stars for 72 hours. I partied a little too hard and missed a few of the press conferences…ok so I missed all of them. ...
Read More
|