Thank God (or whomever claims to be in charge) that 2008 is over

Dear 2008,

Thanks for playing. You will go down on record as simply one of the worst years ever. I wouldn't let you wipe my Dad's ass with your bare hands. Congratulations! Well done, indeed.

Last year I said that 2008 couldn't be any worse than 2007. The year before that I said that 2007 couldn't be any worse than 2006. In both cases I was wrong. So here's to assuming that 2009 will be worse than 2008 - hell, I might as well go with the trend, right? It's the safe bet, although I can't fathom what could get worse in my life. Then again, if someone had told me a year ago that on New Year's Eve 2008/9 I'd be unemployed, 40 years old and living with my parents in Chicago I would have said that that was absolutely impossible, and yet here I am.

I guess I shouldn't try to imagine what, in the past, has been unimaginable. But then again, why not give it a shot? What the hell could go wrong in 2009 that would be worse than where I am today? We here at PNYC Chicago branch decided to come up with a list of a few things that are unimaginable today that would dramatically worsen my life. Here goes - and by the way, if anyone out there has any suggestions, we are most certainly open to them and thanks in advance for contributing.

1. Cancer. I had a "mass of unknown genesis" found in my chest early in 2008 (thanks again 2008!!). For a several weeks I was operating under the assumption that it was a cancerous tumor the size of a golf ball. It turned out to be benign but let me tell you, that was a long ass couple of weeks. Perhaps in 2009 it will be for real.
   
   
2. Alzheimers!! My Dad's got it bad. Just this morning he crapped in his bed for the third time in the past week. He doesn't know what year it is. He doesn't know his wife's or sons' names. He keeps saying he wants to go live in L.A. with his mother and father, whom he hated (didn't even invite to his own wedding he hated them so much) and have been dead for over a decade. Here's to living with Dignity! Perhaps I'll get diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's this year. I'm absent minded as it is so it's not a stretch. That would be FUN.
   
   
3. Homelessness. I have to assume that being homeless is worse than living with one's parents at the age of 40, but not by much. We'll see. Anything's possible, right?
   
   
4. Forced exile in Darfur/Afganistan/Cleveland. Do I really have to explain?
   
   
5. Prosecuted for a crime I didn't commit and sentenced to life in Leavenworth where I would be repeatedly gang raped. I watch a lot of Law & Order and there was an episode on last night about a perfectly nice guy who did nine (count 'em: 9) years for a crime he didn't commit. As the saying goes, guys like me don't do well in prison, know what I mean?

On the other hand, a small portion of the staff at Pedro's thought this line of thought to be unfair. For every action there is a reaction, right? A Yin to the Yang, so to speak. So here are a couple of things that would be just great and insure that 2009 would be, by any measurement, better than 2008. Here goes:

1. A job! I can't even get a job at The Gap so I'm not holding out much hope for anything here. Frankly, I just don't know what to do about this. I've got a $300,000 education (not in current dollars, btw) and apparently I'm not qualified to stack boxes in the back of Banana Republic. During November I applied to approximately 15 potential employers about either part time or seasonal help and I ended up with only two interviews. One went poorly and I didn't get it. In the other, they checked my background and then called a former employer. The former employer they called didn't get the call, rather her Chicago representitive did and she said that I'd never worked there. In fact, I worked (and continue to work) on a consulting basis for the owner in Connecticut, not some fucking retard in the Chicago showroom. Anyway, the potential employer (J. Crew, btw) turned me down because they thought that I lied on my application. Un-fucking-believable, right? This is what I deal with.
   
   
2. Resolution to my lawsuit. I was hit by a car while crossing the street, in the cross walk, on a green light, at the corner of 54th Street and First Avenue on November 20, 2007 (thanks 2007!). As a result of that accident I have two blown disks in my neck and can't feel my left middle or index fingers, which is just a fucking drag. Have you ever tried typing with no feeling in the middle and index fingers of your left hand? So long, typing efficiency!! It was nice knowin' ya! And I can't pick up anything small (coins, for example) off the floor, and doing buttons is impossible with my left hand. Furthermore, my upper back and neck are constantly in pain: sitting through a long flight or even a long movie is decidedly uncomfortable, and that shit's forever. Mr. Scott Fairclough from Connecticut, the operator of the vehicle that hit me, went home, probably had dinner and a cocktail and went to sleep. I ended up in soul crushing agony for months and my life will never, ever, ever be the same. All I did was go to the gym and supermarket. All this guy did was run me over and then go home. For that I got almost $30,000 in medical bills and permanent physical damage. I wonder what he got? A slight raise in insurance premiums, most likely. I'll trade him straight up any fucking day.
   
   
3. My own apartment. Wow, would that be nice. I could watch tv in peace. I could cook when I want. I could have some privacy! Ohh, what sweet dreams, to have privacy. I'd kill for 400 square feet somewhere, hell, even in fucking Cleveland if I had a job there. Anything but living with my parents. Ugh. Get. Me. The. Fuck. Outta. This. Place.
   

That's it. I'm not aiming for the stars, here, I don't think. Just some basics, right? Anyway, here's to hoping the best for your 2009. As the old Irish blessing goes,

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Best of luck, Y'All. I miss you all very much and hope to see you soon. Until I post again, I remain

Your Pedro

Don't I know it, Indiana.

In the immortal words of Indiana Jones,
"It's not the years. It's the mileage."

I turned 40 last week. And though I'm only 6 days into it, it's my firm and thoroughly well thought out opinion that being 40 sucks.

When I turned 21, the world was my oyster, so to speak. The ensuing remainder of the decade of my 20s was an effing ball. Damn, did we kill it. I worked like a lunatic and made enough bread to party like a rock star with my friends, travel the world, hang out with girls my friends and I didn't know very well - or at all, and even some we did know well. We'd party til 4am and still be at work by 9, ready to roll. Ahhh, youth. What a time. Glory days, right? *Sigh*

When I turned 30, I thought that I could no longer blame my stupid shenanigans on my age. And I was, well, more or less right. Sort of. I still pulled a lot of stupid stunts, but I became slightly - and no more than that - settled down. I had the same girlfriend for a whole decade (plus two) and we had one helluva good time, despite bouts of depression because my career was (still is) in the toilet as a result of some very stupid choices. But ultimately, during my 30s, the highs were higher but the lows were epic and destructive. Not as much fun as my 20s, but I still seemed to muddle through and have some fun. I spent almost half of the decade of my 30s unemployed which sucked. A lot. But I also figured out, just under the wire by the way, what I want to do with my life, which is great. So there you have it, if that makes any sense at all.

Still effing awesome after all these years!
Enjoy it while you've got it Home Beast!

Looking back on it, when in your 30s, you still believe that you can hold on to a substantial part of your youth. You've still got it, right? Shit, Bret Favre is 39 and he's killing it! Hell if he can, I can! Bring on the 25 year old women! They're still looking at me, right? Let's hit some full contact Karaoke! I can take it! Right?

In the great words of Peter Sellars, "Not anymore."

But the bottom line is that I can't do it like I used to. Shit, I'm 40 years old! I get tired at night, and despite my ongoing commitment to US Weekly, Gawker and MTVs The Hills ('Sup Audrina!) I have absolutely nothing to say to a 25 year old girl. Try as I might, I have nada.

Furthermore, even if I had a couple of days off and several thousand dollars of disposable income, I probably wouldn't be able to find anyone to tear it up with because all of my friends are effing married with children. Bo-Ring! (No, really, I'm thrilled for you all. Just don't call me before 11am on weekends.) But there you have it, people. The end of a pretty lousy decade. Some highs, but more lows. Optimism about the future ebbed during this decade. Significantly, I might add, which brings us to where I am today.

"Hi. My name is George, uh, I mean Pedro.
I'm unemployed and I live with my parents."

As I mentioned, I turned 40 last Saturday. I looked in the mirror for a couple of days afterward and thought to myself, "So this is what a 40 year old looks like." And let me tell you, it ain't purdy. I've been joking lately that I've totally become a 40 year old George Costanza: unemployed and living with my parents. And broke, too! Psych! All I need to do now is to stop shaving and wear purple, velour track suits all day and who the hell knows? Perhaps tomorrow I'll end up working for the Yankees! Holla! Perhaps this is the price I have to pay for telling girls when I was in my early 20s that I was, in fact, an architect. What's that about? Funny you should ask!!

First of all people: I'm 1000% certain that I'm not the first guy to bullshit a girl into the old sack-a-rooni by lying about his profession. Does "I'm a producer" ring a bell anyone? How many of you douchebags have tried it but haven't told the wife/girlfriend? Let me tell you girls out there to rest assured: guys have been pulling this crap since the dawn of time and your guy is probably no exception. But here's my story, and I'm sticking to it because in this case it's actually true: when I started my "I'm an Architect" routine, George had only said once on the show that he was an architect. That occurred in Seinfeld's second season which aired in 1990. I didn't even watch Seinfeld in 1990! And no one else did either, by the way. Following that season 2 episode, George doesn't bring up the architect routine again until the episode where he claims he built the new wing of the Guggenheim, called "The Race", which aired on December 15, 1994 during Season 6. Remember this scene in Monk's Cafe?

• Lois: Have you designed any buildings in New York?
• George: Have you seen the new addition to the Guggenheim?
• Lois: You did that?
• George: Yep. And it didn't take very long either.

I'm pretty sure that I started my architect routine after the initial unveiling of it in 1989 - of which I was ignorant - but I was certainly on it before season 6 in 1994, when the show was "Must See TV". Those years from 1992 - 4 were the days when these shenanigans were par for the course with guys all over NYC, and we here at Pedro's were no exceptions. One time Sammy and I actually convinced a perfectly well educated woman that clucking like a chicken was a new form of psychotherapy that really worked. Two weeks later when we saw her again, she was all smiles, blurting out that "I've got my mother clucking now too!! Thank you soooo much!" [Ed. note: I shit you not. That's a true story.] It was around that time that I began to break out the architect program. Modifying it, molding it, editing and re-working it. Loving it. It ultimately became a thing of beauty. I delivered it like the fucking Commode Story in Reservoir Dogs (YouTube link to the scene right there!!). But really I remember because that shit worked, and on more than one occasion. Chicks ate that shazz up. It was effin' great. I'll burn in hell for it, but if I die and go to hell because of the architect routine, well, I'm getting a better attorney because that's ridiculous.

So I begin a new decade at a pretty low point. But who knows what's in store. Things could be worse (hello Darfur!) so I'm not going to complain that much. I hope to turn things around and my staff here at PedrosNYC Chicago branch is all over it, so stay tuned! Big news could break over the upcoming holidays.

Anyway, thanks for the birthday greetings. They're truly appreciated because I miss all my peeps in God's Country: New York City.

Hoze Sold Separately

I was up in Evanston the other day and I stopped into a toy store called Tom Thumb. I used to hit this place when I was a kid and it never failed to delight. They've got everything and it's nice to know that good things don't change. While perusing their model building section I came across this: the Ho Roundhouse.

How great is this? Does it come with a gram of meth and a DIY criminal record? Are the Hoze sold separately? Am I the only one that thinks that this is totally unbelievable? Look at the artist's rendition on the box. It looks like what I imagine a roadside brothel in Texas or New Mexico would look like. It's absolutely awesome!!! So call up a couple of friends and build it on out for a lifetime of pleasure!!

Knowing Your Customer

This really says it all, doesn't it? I mean, in order to sell something, people always say that you've gotta really know your customer so that you can best sell to them. Obviously, the owners of this bar know their customer. Basically they're saying that if you want to get loaded any day, almost any time, you can swing on by and get your cocktail on. Simple. Direct. Genius.

A Lesson in the Tensile Strength of Leopard Skin

Woman swallowed whole by leopard!!

My brother wrote the following in response to receiving the above photo in an email which was titled "Woman swallowed whole by leopard!". I think it's pretty funny, so here it is for you to enjoy. Those of you who know Matthew have to know that this sort of thing can only come from his head: pure. comic. genius.

"I bet they had to break out the famous "jaws of death" to extricate her, you know, the tool used to cut through the twisted metal hulks of car accidents to free trapped passengers. I'm guessing it wasn't pretty.

It's not widely known, but leopard skin has a tensile strength similar to that of spider silk, so in this photo her true bulk is disguised by the powerful containment effect provided by the leopard's skin. Once cut free from it, however, there would have to have been a literal explosion of mass. Not a true explosion of course, since that would technically require bits and pieces of flying debris. I mean, certainly there would have been all sorts of bits and pieces flying and possibly to deadly effect, but I'd have been more concerned by the shock wave caused by and preceding her rapidly expanding body mass. You know, like when a volcano explodes and the pyroclasmic gases roar down the mountain side at several hundred miles per hour, flattening everything in their path. It's quite an image. Thank you for sharing."

"Tensile strength"? "Powerful containment effect"? "Pyroclasmic gases"? WTF? Where does he come up with this stuff? Awesome! And thank you, Matthew, for sharing your priceless viewpoint with us!!

I Heart America, #2

Hells yeah! We kick ass!!

I got this cartoon in an email this morning. Basically, it's all there, right? I guess my only question is, shouldn't China be on the list? I thought that the Japanese occupied quite a bit of China in WW II, but then again, what the hell do I know? Certainly more than you knuckleheads, but that's another story, obviously.

I Heart America

Don't ask me where I get this stuff. I just happened to find this gem and frankly I don't want to ruin its unadulterated awesomeness with too much commentary, so, enjoy.

Pure. Effing. Genius.

College Girls Continue to Rule the Planet

College ass, forever young

This one is from the Thighmaster, but I just couldn't resist posting it here. I mean, really, this girl's ass is spectacular; it's a thing of beauty. The thing is, she probably doesn't even know the power she possesses. At this point, in that dress (if one can call that swatch of fabric a "dress"), she is more powerful than Alexander the Great or The Emperor, Darth Sidious. Her ass could probably power Manhattan during a summer heat wave! HUZZAH!

So, you're welcome for this. Have a nice day. Over and out.

Faces for Radio, Monday Morning Edition

I've decided that since I'm so effing beautiful, that I would start a column here at Pedro's about those whom I deem to be ugly. Yes, this is totally rude. Yes, this is not fair to those I choose to ridicule. And yes, I should have something better to do. But I don't and it's Columbus Day, I slept terribly last night and consequently I'm tired, cranky and bitter this morning. On top of that, all I have to look forward to today is a lunch with my sponsor who's going to lecture me ad nauseum about how to fix my so called life. Ugh. Shoot me now.

Any-yawn, I'm going to start off this here column with Sandra Bernhard. Granted, she was brills-effing-murray in Hudson Hizzawk ("Bunny! Ball Ball!"), but lately she seems to be in the news because she can't close her freakin' pie hole. And what a savage pie hole it is! Check out this pic from PageSix.com:

The pride of Flint, Michigan. Jeezus.

Apparently she thought that cracking wise about VP hopeful Sarah Palin getting gang raped by a cadre of black men was "funny." Now I may not be Billy Crystal or George Carlin, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to determine that gang rape jokes are generally - how can I put this nicely - NOT FUCKING FUNNY. I don't care about your political views. This has nothing to do with that. What this does have to do with is taking a Face for Radio, and then making it even uglier (if that is possible in this case) by making gang rape jokes. What a total douche-tard.

Pan back! Like, waaaaaaaaay back!!!

So that's about it from me today. I'm open to suggestions from you, my loyal reader(s), for more candidates for this column. I figure that at some point I'll have to induct Madonna into the Face For Radio Hall Of Fame, but there's just no time today. I mean, with her face that post could take weeks.

It's been a long time, been a long time, been a long, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time.

Can you guess what year this is from?

Greetings, earthlings! I'm thinking about making a return to this here blog. As some of you may know, I am no longer (geographically) Pedro of NYC. However, I am going to continue to blog under this sobriquet because, well, I effing feel like it and PedrosChicago sounds like ass. Deal with it. Don't deal with it. Whatever. But, as they say, there but for the grace of God, be it under a misnomer or not, go I.

Se here we are. October, 2008. I have a word of the day today, simply because I happened to see it at the top of the page of the dictionary while I was checking the spelling of sobriquet. I felt this word was appropriate today because the stock market closed down just over 508 points, bringing its two day total drop to almost 900 points. Suh - Weet, people!! In light of this, I give you Pedro's NYC Word of the Day. Pay attention - this will be on the test.

Sodomy \'sad-e-me\ n [ME, fr. OF sodomie, fr. LL Sodoma Sodom; fr. the homosexual proclivities of the men of the City (Gen 19:1 - 11)] 1 : Copulation with a memeber of the same sex or with an animal : BESTIALITY 2 : noncoital and esp. anal or oral copulation with a member of the opposite sex 3 : giving the literal or proverbial high hard one in the pooper to someone, whether they like it or not : syn see ASS FUCKING.

Because, my friends, for the past several weeks the markets have Sodomized (or engaged in Sodomy with) investors, i.e. investors have been victims of an Ass Fucking.

Now luckily, yours truly has no assets to speak of (although I do have a sizable ass - but that's another story) except a 401(k) full of Morgan Stanley stock that I can't touch until I'm like 60 or something. This basically means that the massive sell off in the markets will not impact me like it is and will continue to impact others. And although I'm usually not the sympathetic type, times out there are nothing short of brutal and I hope everyone comes out of this ok.

I have a quick summary for you, the Great Unwashed, that explains how we got here. It's a quote from a guy named Steve Schwarzman, one of the co-founders of a private equity (amongst others things) shop called the Blackstone Group. By all accounts this is one smart mofo, although apparently he's only about 5'3", and as everyone knows, that's gotta hurt.

It’s a perfect storm. It started with Congress encouraging lending to lower-income people. You went from subprime loans being 2% of total loans in 2002 to 30% of total loans in 2006. That kind of enormous increase swept into the net people who shouldn’t have been borrowing.

Those loans were packaged into CDOs rated AAA, which led the investment-banking firms [buying them] to do little to no due diligence, and the securities were distributed throughout the world, where they started defaulting.

When they started defaulting, out of bad luck or bad judgment, we implemented fair value accounting….You had wildly different marks for this kind of security, which led to massive write-offs by the commercial banking and investment-banking system.

In the face of those losses…you needed to raise new equity…which came from sovereign-wealth funds in part, which then caused political resistance to sovereign-wealth funds, who predictably have withdrawn from putting money into the system….It seemed pretty obvious that would happen. We now find ourselves with a liquidity crisis where fundamentally the cost of money for financial intermediaries [such as investment banks] is significantly in excess of their cost of lending it. So several institutions found themselves in a structurally impossible position. We had a series of bankruptcies, whether Bear Stearns or Lehman, or forced sales like Merrill. Goldman reverted to a banking charter for a lower cost of funds, which today is still not low enough for the business.

So that’s the story of how we got here.

Did you guys get that? There's no simpler way to put it. Now head off to your next party and dazzle them with this little tidbit of knowledge. If you are asked to discuss specifics, it is our policy here at PedrosNYC to simply say, "There's a time for business and a time for cocktails. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the latter. Good evening to you." Then, as you elegantly pirouette away, be sure to mutter under your breath "Sayonara Bitches!!" and adjourn yourself to the bar, where you'll be the hit of the party. In LA that shit might even get you laid. Good luck all, I am out!

Long Time, No Talk

Hey Everyone. It's been a while, I know. It's just that 2007 was a crappy year for those of us here at Pedro's NYC and, well, we just didn't feel like sharing. I guess you could file it under the old "if you don't have something nice to say, then piss off" type of situation. What can I say? Hopefully I'll be back at some point, but I just don't have it in me right now.