Owen Wilson, everyone's favorite blood haired, messed up nose goofball, tried to kill himself earlier this week. I, for one, was incredibly shocked and somewhat saddened to hear such news. I've been a fan of Owen Wilson ever since I found out he co-wrote The Royal Tennenbaums, and his characters in Zoolander, Meet the Parents / Fockers, and Wedding Crashers are among my favorites of all time. Hell, I'm pretty sure the character of Dupree in Me, You, and Dupree was loosely based on my life. So to hear that a guy who has more money than he could imagine, is pretty decent looking, and can basically get any girl he ever wanted tried to off himself, it really made me think.
See, apparently Wilson tried to kill himself because of his recent breakup with mega slut Kate Hudson, and her new exciting relationship with Brad Pitt. Oh wait, what's that? She's not going out with Brad Pitt? Who is it then? Tom Brady? Denzel Washington? Tom Hanks? No? Wait, What?? Did you just say DAX SHEPPARD? The obnoxious jackass(1) from Punk'd? What The Hell???
See, some people might think of this as a sign that just because you have lots of money, fame, power, all that good stuff, you won't be truly happy until you are spending your life with your someone that you are in love with. Well Sean says BULLSHIT. This is just another example of a decent man giving into the powers of some floozie who apparently has no idea what she wants, considering she dumped a mega star like Owen Wilson for, ugh, Dax Sheppard. Poor Owen Wilson sees Kate "The Holylwood Whore" Hudson vacationing in Maui or something with this scrawny poser named Dax, thinks to himself "Wow do I really suck that much where Kate Hudson would rather date Dax Sheppard rather than me?" and he goes and slits his wrists.
Shame on Kate Hudson for flaunting her new found romance all over the mass media and youtube. But also, Shame on Owen Wilson for giving into the powers of an evil minded woman. This is exactly what she wanted you to do, Owen. I'm assuming she doesn't actually like Dax Sheppard (2), she was just using the biggest NOBODY in Hollywood to make you feel real shitty about yourself. She got what she wanted. She might even break up with Dax in a week and find somebody even lower (3) than him in Hollywood to parade around town, in hopes that Dax might attempt suicide himself (wishful thinking).
This post was hastily put together. Stay Strong, Owen Wilson.
(1) Obnoxious jackass not named Ashton Kutcher
(2) Nobody actually likes Dax Sheppard. Dax Sheppards parent's hate Dax Sheppard.
(3) Carrot Top?
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
An Open Letter.
Dear Residents of Levittown / Hicksville / Bethpage / Westbury / Wantagh / Long Island in general:
On behalf of all runners / joggers / speed walkers / old people walkers, I request that you do the following, to make the lives of those of us who are trying to improve our lives through fitness just a little bit more enjoyable...
1. Keep your fu*king dogs inside your house after sunset. Often times while running, I am sort of in my own world, not really paying attention to my surroundings.. just running. So you can imagine what it may be like while running down a street, just minding your own business, when a 240 pound mutt comes charging at you from inside of a fenced yard. It's enough of a scare to make you skip around and look like a Nancy boy.
2. Keep the lids on your fu*king garbage. I have found that the absolute worst night to go for a run on Long Island is Thursday Nights. Why? Because apparently every single township has some kind of garbage or recycling pick up on Friday morning. So every single person on this Island has their garbage out, and being the mass consumers that we are, there is never enough room in 2 garbage pails for all our shit, so of course there is an overflow garbage just sitting on curbs and pails overloaded. Mix this with the extreme heat humidity of a Long Island August, and the whole town is literally covered with a nasty stench. If I wanted to go for a 12 mile run with the constant smell of old gross garbage in my nostrils, I would just run from Staten Island to New Jersey.
3. Chill with the fu*king light sensors. Just tonight, I was running down Spindle Road, and I was approaching the last 800 meters of a 15 mile run. You know, sprinting time. I was in the street, away from anyone's personal property, and I was just switching my iPod to my power song (Let's go Crazy by Refused). As I was about to being my sprint to the finish, some idiot house's light sensor goes off, and the next thing I know theres a 40,000 watt light shining on me. I'm man enough to admit that I acted as if I saw the great Ghost of Lester Bangs, and I ran the fastest 800 meters of my life, which is cool, but my heart rate also rose to all time high.
4. Put your fu*king sprinklers on when your supposed to. Everyone knows that your supposed to water your lawn either early in the morning, or at night. It's better for the environment, conserves water, and supposedly its actually better for lawn. Coincidentally, it's also the time when most runners are out running their routes. And while some female runners are scared of getting wet, clydesdale's like myself who sweat a gallon a minute like the occasional sprinkler to run through and perhaps get a quick refill on water.
I expect these changes to be made quickly, Lawn Guyland.
Thank You
Sean
On behalf of all runners / joggers / speed walkers / old people walkers, I request that you do the following, to make the lives of those of us who are trying to improve our lives through fitness just a little bit more enjoyable...
1. Keep your fu*king dogs inside your house after sunset. Often times while running, I am sort of in my own world, not really paying attention to my surroundings.. just running. So you can imagine what it may be like while running down a street, just minding your own business, when a 240 pound mutt comes charging at you from inside of a fenced yard. It's enough of a scare to make you skip around and look like a Nancy boy.
2. Keep the lids on your fu*king garbage. I have found that the absolute worst night to go for a run on Long Island is Thursday Nights. Why? Because apparently every single township has some kind of garbage or recycling pick up on Friday morning. So every single person on this Island has their garbage out, and being the mass consumers that we are, there is never enough room in 2 garbage pails for all our shit, so of course there is an overflow garbage just sitting on curbs and pails overloaded. Mix this with the extreme heat humidity of a Long Island August, and the whole town is literally covered with a nasty stench. If I wanted to go for a 12 mile run with the constant smell of old gross garbage in my nostrils, I would just run from Staten Island to New Jersey.
3. Chill with the fu*king light sensors. Just tonight, I was running down Spindle Road, and I was approaching the last 800 meters of a 15 mile run. You know, sprinting time. I was in the street, away from anyone's personal property, and I was just switching my iPod to my power song (Let's go Crazy by Refused). As I was about to being my sprint to the finish, some idiot house's light sensor goes off, and the next thing I know theres a 40,000 watt light shining on me. I'm man enough to admit that I acted as if I saw the great Ghost of Lester Bangs, and I ran the fastest 800 meters of my life, which is cool, but my heart rate also rose to all time high.
4. Put your fu*king sprinklers on when your supposed to. Everyone knows that your supposed to water your lawn either early in the morning, or at night. It's better for the environment, conserves water, and supposedly its actually better for lawn. Coincidentally, it's also the time when most runners are out running their routes. And while some female runners are scared of getting wet, clydesdale's like myself who sweat a gallon a minute like the occasional sprinkler to run through and perhaps get a quick refill on water.
I expect these changes to be made quickly, Lawn Guyland.
Thank You
Sean
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
To Live or Die on Long Island
As I grow older in age, I find myself thinking more and more about what my future holds. What the hell am I actually gonna do for the rest of my life? Sure, I'm going to school to be an elementary teacher, but I have so many interests these days that even that is uncertain. One day I think I should be going for psychology, the next I'm looking to go for Business, some days I wanna be a gym teacher, and most recently, I've really been considering getting a degree in Leisure Studies. I should have probably thought about these things when I was a teenager, not now while I am approaching my mid twenties, but whatever. No time to dwell on the past you know. One major concern that has crossed my mind is where am I actually going to wind up? I have lived on Long Island for all of my 24 years, and I'm pretty sure I like it, but at the same time I also know for a fact that I hate it. I can kind of see myself living here forever, but I don't think I want to live here forever. So in an attempt to make my decision down the road a little easier, I am going to compile a Pro and Con list about Long Island, and then when I am finally able to start the next chapter in the Book of Sean, I can look back on this list and know what to do.
Why Long Island Sucks.
- Traffic: In the past 6-7 years, I have noticed a really disturbing trend. Rush hour on Long Island is no longer the traditional 7am-9am and 5pm -6pm. No, I'm afraid rush hour has extended it's ugly head into the hours between 5:30am -10am, and 2:30pm -6:30pm. Now, to me this has a really upsetting meaning. People seem to be so caught up in their work lives that they are leaving their homes earlier and staying in their offices later. This leaves people no time for any type of leisure, and everyone knows that I am certainly a man of leisure. In his book titled Sex Drugs and Cocoa Puffs, Chuck Klosterman makes a point concerning traffic. He says that there will never be a point in our lifetimes, or perhaps ever, where there won't be any road construction going on. He wishes there would come a day when he can drive from New York to California where he won't see any type of traffic due to road construction. While that is some really wishful thinking, I would love to see the day when I can travel from Levittown to Northport without seeing any type of traffic.
- Cost of living: For reasons that no one can ever really explain to me, Long Island, and New York in general, is a ridiculously expensive place to live. To me, it makes no sense that we have to pay $3.50 per gallon of gas, while 30 miles away in New Jersey they are paying $2.75. But that is just a beginning. Nassau County is the sixth richest country in the United States. Because the average household income is over $75,000, everyone is expected to pay taxes out the ass and insane prices for everything else. An insurance agent once told me that just because I live in Nassau, I can expect to pay an insane amount more than anyone else in the country for car insurance. It's nearly impossible to live like that. I don't want to short change myself, but who knows if I'll ever be making over 75 grand. The average teacher in NY makes about $55,000 per year. Thats $20,000 less than the average income in Nassau County. Now compare that to a place like, oh I don't know, Pennsylvania for example. The average teacher there makes 52k a year. The average income? 50k. You figure out the rest.
- Billy Joel: For some reason, just being from Long Island automatically makes you a Billy Joel fan. Well here's a shocker. I hate Billy Joel. I think his music is depressing, his piano skills are terrible overrated, and he can't drive. And it's so annoying when every stupid bar around here plays his lame songs, everybody goes wild and acts as if they haven't heard "Piano Man" 1200 times.
- Misc: Too many malls, it's cold in the winter, not enough open space, girls wear too much makeup, the Long Island Railroad, the scene is dead, no mountains, no support for the Islanders, and a terrible public library system.
Why Long Island is OK.
- It is an island: I have to admit, living on an island is kinda cool. Being 20 minutes from water no matter where you are is nice. Long Island has some great surf spots and some cool kayaking spots as well. I would never be seen at Jones Beach on a summer day, but running there in the winter is awesome. And the boardwalk at night is one of the most under appreciated things on the island. And I really like to say "I live on Long Island." Because I do live on an island. You can't say "I live on Cleveland." Cleveland isn't an island.
But I don't know exactly where I want to end up either. I always envisioned myself living in California, and I fell in love with San Diego the two times that I've been there. It seems like it's just the place I need to be. I could wear shorts all year round and not look crazy, listen to indie rock radio stations, ride my bike everywhere, and just enjoy life while still making New York type money. I've never been to Denver, but for some reason I think I would like it there too.
But, for the time being, I suppose I should just concentrate on finishing school up, moving back out of my parent's house, and keep on enjoying life, and when the time comes for me to begin my next journey, I'll know what to do.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
The Downfall of Society
As I was walking around downtown Brooklyn on a 2 hour lunch break the other day, I looked around. Downtown Brooklyn has become pretty nice over the last few years, and from what I hear it is becoming a popular destination for young people. And as I surveyed the scene I noticed tons of hipster doofueses (doofi?) and hundreds of indie chicks with stupid lawn mower haircuts. Something else I noticed, and I've been noticing this for the better part of 2 years now, was that everyone, and I mean everyone was using some kind of electronic device, whether it be a cell phone with bluetooth technology, an iPod, or one of those god forsaken Sidekicks.
As I walked around disgusted with all of the technological bullshit going on around me, I noticed a young, hip couple walking with a baby in a baby stroller. The couple couldn't have been much older than I, I would say the husband was 27 and the wife 26. The child, which I think was a boy, was maybe 18 months old. Everything seemed to look normal, until I looked at the parents' heads. The dad had iPod headphones on, and the mother was yapping away on her cell phone. As I studied them, I noticed that the little baby became unsettled, and was beginning to cry. The father obviously could not hear the poor little fella over the new White Stripes album he was blasting into his earlobes, and the mother could not be bothered to check on little Billy because she was way too into the conversation she was having with her girlfriend. The baby cried for a good 90 seconds before the mother hung up her phone and picked him up. The dad just kept listening to his iPod.
There a few things that I found wrong about this situation. First of all, this couple could not have been married for very long. I would say at the most 2 years. Is it possible that a newlywed couple has already run out of things to say to each other within 2 years? Do they really need to be ignoring each others company on a casual stroll through the neighborhood? I mean I'm against marriage to begin with, but if I ever do wind up getting hitched, you better believe I'm gonna keep it interesting enough to at least hold a conversation for a few years, even if it includes cheating on my wife. Secondly, they had a child with them! Anytime I babysit, I'm pretty much focusing most of my attention on those that I am babysitting. I don't isolate myself in a different room with my boombox blaring and chat on my cellphone. I make sure that the baby is happy. If they cry, I can usually tend to them within 10-15 seconds. Not only is this couple doomed to spend the rest of their lives together, but their son is going to wind up hating at least one of them for their constant neglect of him, and he has no chance of ever being in a successful relationship, all because mommy and daddy couldn't part with their stupid gadgets and gizmos on a stroll through downtown Brooklyn.
The Sidekick is another technological marvel that I believe is doing much more harm than good in the world. As far as I'm concerned, the Sidekick is not a cell phone. It's AIM in your pocket. All the stupid thing is good for is people IMing each other in bars, in malls, while walking around, on the subway, wherever and whenever. I don't know that I've actually seen one person ever use a Sidekick to actually make a phone call. But why would you want to make a phone call when you can just type what needs to be said? Actually speaking to someone might be too personal. I get it. And is there anything more pathetic than going to a show (punk, hardcore, indie, ska, whatever) and in between sets seeing every stupid non conforming little rebel oi! kid on their dumb Sidekick's changing their away message to say "OMG Hearts That Hate just played and they were rawkin! srsly!1!!" Ugh, its terrible. And the next time that I'm talking to someone (like actually talking to them, in person) and they take out their Sidekick and I hear that universal IM sound go off, I might just take the Sidekick and "Sidekick" it into a lake.
As I was standing in line at the Post Office the other day, the woman behind me was speaking very loud. Loud enough to the point where I was getting annoyed. But I figured she was talking to someone, perhaps her daughter, on line with her, so I didn't turn around and shoot her a nasty look or anything ( I don't know that I'm actually capable of shooting a nasty look, but I can pretend). As her conversation continued and got louder and louder, she began to laugh, or in her case, cackle louder than an old hen. Now, I don't know if you've ever been in a post office before, but it's not necessarily a happy place. People just go there, wait in line with blank stares, and wait to be called upon. Rarely is there an incident at the post office that would cause this woman, or any normal human, to laugh in the matter in which she was laughing. At this point, other people in the line were beginning to shoot their own nasty looks at her, so I decided to join in the fun. I turned around, and to my surprise, there was no one on line with her. Even more surprising, she did not seem to be on her cell phone, either. She was just obviously a mental patient who had escaped and decided to come to the Levittown Post Office and have an extensive conversation with herself. Ok, no big deal I thought, and for a second I felt sorry for her. Until she turned around. It was then that I realized that this wench had a blue light coming from her ear and was holding a cell phone in her hand. She was using one of those goddamn Bluetooth things and had actually been on the phone this whole time, annoying everyone else on line. Once she noticed everyone looking at her in disgust, she said to whoever it was she was speaking with "Oh now everyone in line thinks I'm speaking to myself" and continued to chat away.
This was not the first time that I've had this kind of situation with the bluetooth. The problem with the bluetooth is that if you are unaware that someone is using it, it looks as if the person is talking to you. I was at the supermarket once and some frat bro was on the bluetooth with one of his bro's and he goes "I'll kick your ass in Madden." But he was looking at me, and I didn't know he was "toothing." I suck at Madden, but in my defense I said "What? No you won't." He just pointed to his cell phone, picked up a case of Bud Light and continued on his merry way. This is a sitaution that I can envision happening thousands of times per day throughout the world. The only solution that I can think of is to make anyone who is using a bluetooth wear a shirt, or maybe a big button, that says "I'm using bluetooth, and I'm also a douche."
Now, don't get me wrong... I love technology. I like having a cell phone, I like instant messaging, I love myspace. But I also know there is a place and time for it, and it's not while your tending to a baby or in a quiet office, that's for sure.
As I walked around disgusted with all of the technological bullshit going on around me, I noticed a young, hip couple walking with a baby in a baby stroller. The couple couldn't have been much older than I, I would say the husband was 27 and the wife 26. The child, which I think was a boy, was maybe 18 months old. Everything seemed to look normal, until I looked at the parents' heads. The dad had iPod headphones on, and the mother was yapping away on her cell phone. As I studied them, I noticed that the little baby became unsettled, and was beginning to cry. The father obviously could not hear the poor little fella over the new White Stripes album he was blasting into his earlobes, and the mother could not be bothered to check on little Billy because she was way too into the conversation she was having with her girlfriend. The baby cried for a good 90 seconds before the mother hung up her phone and picked him up. The dad just kept listening to his iPod.
There a few things that I found wrong about this situation. First of all, this couple could not have been married for very long. I would say at the most 2 years. Is it possible that a newlywed couple has already run out of things to say to each other within 2 years? Do they really need to be ignoring each others company on a casual stroll through the neighborhood? I mean I'm against marriage to begin with, but if I ever do wind up getting hitched, you better believe I'm gonna keep it interesting enough to at least hold a conversation for a few years, even if it includes cheating on my wife. Secondly, they had a child with them! Anytime I babysit, I'm pretty much focusing most of my attention on those that I am babysitting. I don't isolate myself in a different room with my boombox blaring and chat on my cellphone. I make sure that the baby is happy. If they cry, I can usually tend to them within 10-15 seconds. Not only is this couple doomed to spend the rest of their lives together, but their son is going to wind up hating at least one of them for their constant neglect of him, and he has no chance of ever being in a successful relationship, all because mommy and daddy couldn't part with their stupid gadgets and gizmos on a stroll through downtown Brooklyn.
The Sidekick is another technological marvel that I believe is doing much more harm than good in the world. As far as I'm concerned, the Sidekick is not a cell phone. It's AIM in your pocket. All the stupid thing is good for is people IMing each other in bars, in malls, while walking around, on the subway, wherever and whenever. I don't know that I've actually seen one person ever use a Sidekick to actually make a phone call. But why would you want to make a phone call when you can just type what needs to be said? Actually speaking to someone might be too personal. I get it. And is there anything more pathetic than going to a show (punk, hardcore, indie, ska, whatever) and in between sets seeing every stupid non conforming little rebel oi! kid on their dumb Sidekick's changing their away message to say "OMG Hearts That Hate just played and they were rawkin! srsly!1!!" Ugh, its terrible. And the next time that I'm talking to someone (like actually talking to them, in person) and they take out their Sidekick and I hear that universal IM sound go off, I might just take the Sidekick and "Sidekick" it into a lake.
As I was standing in line at the Post Office the other day, the woman behind me was speaking very loud. Loud enough to the point where I was getting annoyed. But I figured she was talking to someone, perhaps her daughter, on line with her, so I didn't turn around and shoot her a nasty look or anything ( I don't know that I'm actually capable of shooting a nasty look, but I can pretend). As her conversation continued and got louder and louder, she began to laugh, or in her case, cackle louder than an old hen. Now, I don't know if you've ever been in a post office before, but it's not necessarily a happy place. People just go there, wait in line with blank stares, and wait to be called upon. Rarely is there an incident at the post office that would cause this woman, or any normal human, to laugh in the matter in which she was laughing. At this point, other people in the line were beginning to shoot their own nasty looks at her, so I decided to join in the fun. I turned around, and to my surprise, there was no one on line with her. Even more surprising, she did not seem to be on her cell phone, either. She was just obviously a mental patient who had escaped and decided to come to the Levittown Post Office and have an extensive conversation with herself. Ok, no big deal I thought, and for a second I felt sorry for her. Until she turned around. It was then that I realized that this wench had a blue light coming from her ear and was holding a cell phone in her hand. She was using one of those goddamn Bluetooth things and had actually been on the phone this whole time, annoying everyone else on line. Once she noticed everyone looking at her in disgust, she said to whoever it was she was speaking with "Oh now everyone in line thinks I'm speaking to myself" and continued to chat away.
This was not the first time that I've had this kind of situation with the bluetooth. The problem with the bluetooth is that if you are unaware that someone is using it, it looks as if the person is talking to you. I was at the supermarket once and some frat bro was on the bluetooth with one of his bro's and he goes "I'll kick your ass in Madden." But he was looking at me, and I didn't know he was "toothing." I suck at Madden, but in my defense I said "What? No you won't." He just pointed to his cell phone, picked up a case of Bud Light and continued on his merry way. This is a sitaution that I can envision happening thousands of times per day throughout the world. The only solution that I can think of is to make anyone who is using a bluetooth wear a shirt, or maybe a big button, that says "I'm using bluetooth, and I'm also a douche."
Now, don't get me wrong... I love technology. I like having a cell phone, I like instant messaging, I love myspace. But I also know there is a place and time for it, and it's not while your tending to a baby or in a quiet office, that's for sure.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Heiress Courtship Time
I'm 24 years old. I'm still going to school. I'm paying thousands of dollars a year to get a stupid piece of paper that will let me work for the rest of my life. I don't want to work for the rest of my life. I want to retire immediately. I do not have, by any means, the finances needed to retire at 24. I don't have the computer skills to create a social networking site and then sell it to Fox for 580 million dollars (screw off Tom). I do not have the musical skills to create the next big blazing hip hop and r&b single. And I certainly was not born into a family where I will be inheriting billions and a few estates any time soon.
But some people were born into those kinds of families, which is why I have decided to halt everything in my life and will now be concentrating on courting some of the worlds hottest heiresses. I have decided for once in my life I should take the easy way out, and the easiest way I could think of is by obviously making a billionaire heiress fall in love with me, marry me, bear my children, divorce her and then take half of her inheritance, including property in foreign islands. I'm going to start my courtship by choosing 5 of the 10 Hottest Heiresses according to Forbes Magazine.
Holly Branson
Forbes Bio: Bubbly blond daughter of brash Virgin mogul Richard Branson is a doctor in London who received her med school degree in pediatrics. Longtime pal of Britain's most eligible man, Prince William, she vacationed with him and his ex-girlfriend Kate Middleton last year. More recently, she has been all over the press after spending a night dancing and chatting with the newly single prince at a London nightclub. Holly maintains they are just friends. The public seems to disagree: Holly once won BBC Channel 4's "A Wife for William" contest with 43% of the vote.
Why it would work: Holly is only one year older than me. She is bubbly. And I have the utmost respect for her father, Sir Richard Branson. That man is a lunatic, and I love it. He's always doing something crazy, like trying to fly around the world tied to balloons and stuff.
Odds of us getting together: 200 to 1. I think if we ever met we would really hit it off. The only thing standing in the way of our eternal happiness is clearly Prince William. If I could just eliminate him (freak polo accident perhaps?), I will invite Holly to come party at the Boardy Barn with me. Heiresses love the Hamptons, but I think Holly has more in common with me when it comes to partying.. all day drink fests and loud music. If NBC channel 4 ever has a "Wife for Sean" contest, she would surely win.
Amanda Hearst
Forbes Bio: Great-granddaughter of publishing legend William Randolph Hearst and niece of the famously kidnapped and brainwashed Patty Hearst, Amanda is a well-known New York socialite who was once featured in a Harper's Bazaar article detailing her annual maintenance cost of $136,360. The student and model is the face of preppy designer Lilly Pulitzer, and she appeared recently on the cover of Hamptons magazine. The heiress is also a member of environmental nonprofit organization Riverkeeper.
Why it would work: Amanda is a blond, I like blondes. She's from NY, i'm from NY too. Most importantly, she is an environmentalist. And although I'm more of a Surfrider type of guy than a Riverkeeper type of guy, I'm sure we could talk about the important global issues over cage-free chicken dinners at an expensive restaurant in Maui.
Odds of us getting together: 136, 160 to 1. Her annual maintenance cost is about 200 dollars more than I can ever envision myself spending on the maintenance of a woman. I don't even know how to maintain a woman. Is it like maintaining a car? Do I have to pay for her to get an oil change every 3 months? I don't know, but her high maintenance would probably clash with my manly ego, and it would just be a mess for all parties involved. Stay away from me Amanda.
Dylan Lauren
Forbes Bio:Daughter of all-American fashion icon Ralph Lauren, Dylan has found her own sweet spot. The candy entrepreneur sells an array of treats from Jelly Belly, Mars and Hershey at her Dylan's Candy Bar stores, now with five locations nationwide. The stores feature party rooms, candy spas and such gifts as candy pillows, T-shirts and scarves. A former cover girl for Hamptons magazine and Town & Country, Dylan has made recent appearances on the Today and Martha Stewart shows.
Why it would work: Our mutual love of candy. Dylan's Candy Bar is one of the only reasons I ever go to Roosevelt Field Mall. I am a collector of Pez Dispensers, and my sweet Dylan always has the newest dispensers in stock the day they come out. The prices are a little high, but thats the way heiresses roll I suppose. I would assume that once we were married she would give me the candy stores so that she could concentrate on other things, like going to social clubs and dinner parties. After the divorce, I would keep the candy stores, rename them to Uncle Seany's Candy Emporium, and lower the prices significantly. I would be a hero to children young and old, and would make enough money to have my own little heiresses.
Odds of us getting together: 2100 to 1. Although we both do have a sweet tooth, she also has a long tooth. Dylan is 32 years old, and from what I have read she is in no rush to settle down anytime soon. I also have the fashion sense of a mentally challenged baboon, so I'm sure her father, Ralph Lauren, would hate me. But it would be freakin awesome to be the king of a candy empire.
Paris and Nicky Hilton
Forbes Bio (Paris): Suddenly life isn't so simple for the world's original celebutante. Great-granddaughter of Hilton Hotels founder Conrad Hilton, Paris was recently sentenced to 45 days in jail for driving with a suspended license. The suspension came after an alcohol-related reckless driving incident. It was the defining moment for a year full of tabloid-worthy fodder: a public proclamation of celibacy, a reunion with once-estranged Simple Life co-star Nicole Richie last October and countless rumored romances
Forbes Bio (Nicky): Paris' little sister, Nicky, generated her own buzz with a two-year relationship with Entourage star Kevin Connolly that ended last summer and with her much publicized forays into the hotel business, which quickly flopped. Her Nicky O hotel in Florida's trendy South Beach reportedly went bankrupt, and a Chicago developer sued her and her agent over another hotel project in the Windy City. The case was dismissed.
Why it would work (Paris): It wouldn't. I hate her with all of my heart.
Why it would work (Nicky): I saw Nicky Hilton at a diner in California last year with Entourage star and then current boyfriend Kevin Connolly. As I was coming out of the bathroom, I'm almost positive she smiled at me and told one of her bodyguards that she wanted to do me. I was slightly drunk if I remember correctly, but even still, me and Nicky would be great together. She obviously loves Entourage, so she has a sense of humor. I'm a pretty funny guy. I also like her because she's not like her stupid sister Paris, who annoys me so much that if I saw her at the diner I would have thrown my eggs at her. I also once saw a video of Nicky on an Indo board. I love my Indo board.
Odds of us getting together (Paris): 4 million to 2. Sorry Paris, I don't date convicts. I also don't date crackheads who slept with half of Hollywood and most of the NFL. Take note, Lindsay Lohan.
Odds of us getting together (Nicky): 15 to 1. I feel like Nicky might not have experienced some of the things normal children did growing up, and I think I would be the perfect man to show her some fun. I would take to play some mini golf, ride a ferris wheel, eat cotton candy, and watch cartoons. I would also teach her how to throw a frisbee, and invite her to be on my Ultimate Frisbee team. She would surely marry me after that. I might not even divorce her, because I love staying in hotels so much, and since she is the heir to the Hilton hotel chain, that could be a nice hookup.
So there you have it, billionaire ladies. You now know a little more about me, and I will leave it to you fight amongst yourselves to see who gets a piece of the Sean pie.
But some people were born into those kinds of families, which is why I have decided to halt everything in my life and will now be concentrating on courting some of the worlds hottest heiresses. I have decided for once in my life I should take the easy way out, and the easiest way I could think of is by obviously making a billionaire heiress fall in love with me, marry me, bear my children, divorce her and then take half of her inheritance, including property in foreign islands. I'm going to start my courtship by choosing 5 of the 10 Hottest Heiresses according to Forbes Magazine.
Holly Branson
Forbes Bio: Bubbly blond daughter of brash Virgin mogul Richard Branson is a doctor in London who received her med school degree in pediatrics. Longtime pal of Britain's most eligible man, Prince William, she vacationed with him and his ex-girlfriend Kate Middleton last year. More recently, she has been all over the press after spending a night dancing and chatting with the newly single prince at a London nightclub. Holly maintains they are just friends. The public seems to disagree: Holly once won BBC Channel 4's "A Wife for William" contest with 43% of the vote.
Why it would work: Holly is only one year older than me. She is bubbly. And I have the utmost respect for her father, Sir Richard Branson. That man is a lunatic, and I love it. He's always doing something crazy, like trying to fly around the world tied to balloons and stuff.
Odds of us getting together: 200 to 1. I think if we ever met we would really hit it off. The only thing standing in the way of our eternal happiness is clearly Prince William. If I could just eliminate him (freak polo accident perhaps?), I will invite Holly to come party at the Boardy Barn with me. Heiresses love the Hamptons, but I think Holly has more in common with me when it comes to partying.. all day drink fests and loud music. If NBC channel 4 ever has a "Wife for Sean" contest, she would surely win.
Amanda Hearst
Forbes Bio: Great-granddaughter of publishing legend William Randolph Hearst and niece of the famously kidnapped and brainwashed Patty Hearst, Amanda is a well-known New York socialite who was once featured in a Harper's Bazaar article detailing her annual maintenance cost of $136,360. The student and model is the face of preppy designer Lilly Pulitzer, and she appeared recently on the cover of Hamptons magazine. The heiress is also a member of environmental nonprofit organization Riverkeeper.
Why it would work: Amanda is a blond, I like blondes. She's from NY, i'm from NY too. Most importantly, she is an environmentalist. And although I'm more of a Surfrider type of guy than a Riverkeeper type of guy, I'm sure we could talk about the important global issues over cage-free chicken dinners at an expensive restaurant in Maui.
Odds of us getting together: 136, 160 to 1. Her annual maintenance cost is about 200 dollars more than I can ever envision myself spending on the maintenance of a woman. I don't even know how to maintain a woman. Is it like maintaining a car? Do I have to pay for her to get an oil change every 3 months? I don't know, but her high maintenance would probably clash with my manly ego, and it would just be a mess for all parties involved. Stay away from me Amanda.
Dylan Lauren
Forbes Bio:Daughter of all-American fashion icon Ralph Lauren, Dylan has found her own sweet spot. The candy entrepreneur sells an array of treats from Jelly Belly, Mars and Hershey at her Dylan's Candy Bar stores, now with five locations nationwide. The stores feature party rooms, candy spas and such gifts as candy pillows, T-shirts and scarves. A former cover girl for Hamptons magazine and Town & Country, Dylan has made recent appearances on the Today and Martha Stewart shows. Why it would work: Our mutual love of candy. Dylan's Candy Bar is one of the only reasons I ever go to Roosevelt Field Mall. I am a collector of Pez Dispensers, and my sweet Dylan always has the newest dispensers in stock the day they come out. The prices are a little high, but thats the way heiresses roll I suppose. I would assume that once we were married she would give me the candy stores so that she could concentrate on other things, like going to social clubs and dinner parties. After the divorce, I would keep the candy stores, rename them to Uncle Seany's Candy Emporium, and lower the prices significantly. I would be a hero to children young and old, and would make enough money to have my own little heiresses.
Odds of us getting together: 2100 to 1. Although we both do have a sweet tooth, she also has a long tooth. Dylan is 32 years old, and from what I have read she is in no rush to settle down anytime soon. I also have the fashion sense of a mentally challenged baboon, so I'm sure her father, Ralph Lauren, would hate me. But it would be freakin awesome to be the king of a candy empire.
Paris and Nicky Hilton
Forbes Bio (Paris): Suddenly life isn't so simple for the world's original celebutante. Great-granddaughter of Hilton Hotels founder Conrad Hilton, Paris was recently sentenced to 45 days in jail for driving with a suspended license. The suspension came after an alcohol-related reckless driving incident. It was the defining moment for a year full of tabloid-worthy fodder: a public proclamation of celibacy, a reunion with once-estranged Simple Life co-star Nicole Richie last October and countless rumored romances
Forbes Bio (Nicky): Paris' little sister, Nicky, generated her own buzz with a two-year relationship with Entourage star Kevin Connolly that ended last summer and with her much publicized forays into the hotel business, which quickly flopped. Her Nicky O hotel in Florida's trendy South Beach reportedly went bankrupt, and a Chicago developer sued her and her agent over another hotel project in the Windy City. The case was dismissed.
Why it would work (Paris): It wouldn't. I hate her with all of my heart.
Why it would work (Nicky): I saw Nicky Hilton at a diner in California last year with Entourage star and then current boyfriend Kevin Connolly. As I was coming out of the bathroom, I'm almost positive she smiled at me and told one of her bodyguards that she wanted to do me. I was slightly drunk if I remember correctly, but even still, me and Nicky would be great together. She obviously loves Entourage, so she has a sense of humor. I'm a pretty funny guy. I also like her because she's not like her stupid sister Paris, who annoys me so much that if I saw her at the diner I would have thrown my eggs at her. I also once saw a video of Nicky on an Indo board. I love my Indo board.
Odds of us getting together (Paris): 4 million to 2. Sorry Paris, I don't date convicts. I also don't date crackheads who slept with half of Hollywood and most of the NFL. Take note, Lindsay Lohan.
Odds of us getting together (Nicky): 15 to 1. I feel like Nicky might not have experienced some of the things normal children did growing up, and I think I would be the perfect man to show her some fun. I would take to play some mini golf, ride a ferris wheel, eat cotton candy, and watch cartoons. I would also teach her how to throw a frisbee, and invite her to be on my Ultimate Frisbee team. She would surely marry me after that. I might not even divorce her, because I love staying in hotels so much, and since she is the heir to the Hilton hotel chain, that could be a nice hookup.
So there you have it, billionaire ladies. You now know a little more about me, and I will leave it to you fight amongst yourselves to see who gets a piece of the Sean pie.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Polyphonic Video
The first one is right after The Spree left the stage, the crowd kept on singing the chorus of a new song called "The Championship."
Saturday, May 12, 2007
polyphonic experience
Last night, after 3 years of painfully waiting, I finally got to see The Polyphonic Spree live in concert. The show was at The Manhattan Center (the smaller part of the Hammerstein Ballroom.. where ECW films their tapings, it's very small, very intimate). The show was part of David Bowie's new High Line Festival, and at one point I was actually standing within 3 feet of Mr. Bowie himself. The festival highlighted some of Bowie's favorite current acts, including the Arcade Fire, Deerhoof, and The Secret Machines, all on different nights at different venues throughout New York City.
I got to The Manhattan Center in time to catch the last 2 or 3 songs of the band opening for The Polyphonic Spree, a band called School of Seven Bells. They are a group from NYC that is somewhat similar to the Spree, not quite as powerful but just as psychedelic. I liked what I heard from them, and I'll probably check them out again sometime.
After a brief intermission and a few 6 dollar beers, The Polyphonic Spree were ready to go on. A video showed all of the members walking around New York City, which was kind of cool. Then the curtains closed, and when the opened again, there was a huge red banner hiding the band. After a minute of suspense, frontman Tim DeLaughter started to cut through the banner, and suddenly all 15 or 16 members of the band appeared, dressed in some cool really cool military uniforms (Their new album, called "The Fragile Army, comes out June 19th). From the first strike of the gigantic harp in the corner of the stage, the crowd of maybe 400 people was going insane. It was honestly like nothing I have ever seen before. It reminded me of being part of a Southern Baptist Church, with everyone dancing like maniacs and chanting along with every word DeLaughter sung. The crowd viewed DeLaughter as some sort of prophet, and he knew it, commanding the crowd in sing-a-longs. Confetti and streamers shot from the ceiling at different points of the 80 minute set, adding to the mayhem.
If anybody knows me, they know that I literally feed off of positive energy. It's like a special power that I have. Whenever I feel positive vibes going through the air, I'm just a totally different person. Last night was probably one of the most amazing experiences I have ever been part of. Although I went to the show by myself, The Spree has an ability to bring every person in the room together. I found myself in the middle of dance circle after dance circle, dancing with strange hippie chicks, and singing along with a couple who looked like they could have been my grandparents.
After the last song, which I can't remember what it was, the crowd kept on singing. No music, no band members on stage, but the crowd kept on singing, in unison ("and in time, our voice will be heard"), which actually gave me goosebumps. After maybe 8 minutes of this, DeLaughter and the rest of the group appeared walking through the crowd, this time wearing the robes that they are known for. After an amazing flute solo and a few songs, the opening chords to "Light and Day" were heard. As expected, the crowd just went ballistic, and as more and more confetti showered us, DeLaughter invited whoever wanted to to go onto the stage for an amazing sing-a-long. It was a beautiful sight, and after the song was over, every band member stayed on the stage to hang out, give out hugs, and talk to anybody who wanted to talk to them.
Seeing The Polyphonic Spree was more than just going to a concert. It was an experience. It was well worth the 3 years of waiting, but god help me if I have to wait another 3 to see them again. In a time when the world is filled with alot of negativity, experiencing something like The Polyphonic Spree gives us something, and there was a 100 foot banner in the back of the stage telling us what it is: HOPE.
Friday, April 27, 2007
passion of the few
I recently read a book by Shari Caudron called Who Are You People? A Personal Journey into the Heart of Fanatical Passion in America, which is somewhat of a long title, but trust me, it deserves it. I had been searching for this book ever since NPR did a feature story about it sometime last August. For some reason though, no book store on Long Island or in NYC seemed to carry it. So a few weeks ago, I did what I probably should have done in the first place: I checked the library. To my terrific surprise, that miserable excuse for a small book collection called the Island Trees Public Library had it on its dusty old shelves.
Who Are You People is basically the author's journey across America documenting people and the things that that crazy about. She attends a Barbie Lovers Convention in California, A Fly Fishing Tournament in Montana, a Star Trek Convention(of course) Pigeon Races in the Bronx, and many other interesting places where people doing what they love to do, all in search of her finding what it is that she is really passionate about.
While I was reading this book, I found myself thinking to myself what is it that I am actually passionate about? Sure, I have many interests, but what is that I am really really passionate about?
At first I thought it might be Pez. I have a pretty stellar Pez collection (370 dispensers), some shirts, a Pez tie, and a few Pez posters, but in comparison to other Pez collectors (Pezheads), my collection is weak. And it's not like I set aside money from my paychecks to go out and buy Pez (not any more at least). If I happen to see a piece that I am missing, sure I pick it up, but I wouldn't consider myself an actual passionate Pezhead.
My next thought was to consider the sports teams that I support. My favorite team of any sport in the world is the New York Islanders. I follow them every day, I have a few jerseys, and go to a few games per season. Does that make me a fan? Sure. Does it make me fanatical? I don't think so. Your not gonna find me standing on line in sub zero temperatures to get tickets or anything..Fanatics would be there though.
As I struggled to come up with something, I became concerned that I was wandering through life with nothing that I could say I was in love with. Then, in a moment that I have since called "the epiphany," I found out exactly what it was that I was passionate about.
On Sunday Night, I played in a small pick up game of Ultimate Frisbee, which is an amazing game, but it's not what I would call my passion. After the game, I was hopping a fence to get back to my car, and in a real freak accident, I rolled my ankle really bad off the curb. I was in intense pain. If I had any sort of health insurance, I surely would have gone and gotten it x-rayed. When I woke up Monday morning, I was barely able to walk. I called in sick to work that day, and realized that if I can barely walk, how was I going to be able to go on a 7 mile run that night? I became almost depressed, and then I got to thinking.. Running is something that I pretty much do 6 days a week, I do it for fun, I do it to get my mind off of other stuff, it is something that I truly love to do. And it's kind of funny, because maybe 18 months ago, you couldn't pay me to run, but now I've run a full marathon, a few half marathons, and countless other races. This whole week I have been pretty much just taking it easy and resting my ankle up, and it's honestly been a really rough week for me. We had some amazing weather this week, and for me to be sitting inside with my foot elevated and wrapped with ice, it was killer.
I guess sometimes it takes something negative to happen to make you realize something positive. Up until this past week, running has just been something that I do when I get home from work or school or whatever. I suppose I even took it for granted. But when something you like is taken away from you, its then that you realize that you might be in love.
Who Are You People is basically the author's journey across America documenting people and the things that that crazy about. She attends a Barbie Lovers Convention in California, A Fly Fishing Tournament in Montana, a Star Trek Convention(of course) Pigeon Races in the Bronx, and many other interesting places where people doing what they love to do, all in search of her finding what it is that she is really passionate about.
While I was reading this book, I found myself thinking to myself what is it that I am actually passionate about? Sure, I have many interests, but what is that I am really really passionate about?
At first I thought it might be Pez. I have a pretty stellar Pez collection (370 dispensers), some shirts, a Pez tie, and a few Pez posters, but in comparison to other Pez collectors (Pezheads), my collection is weak. And it's not like I set aside money from my paychecks to go out and buy Pez (not any more at least). If I happen to see a piece that I am missing, sure I pick it up, but I wouldn't consider myself an actual passionate Pezhead.
My next thought was to consider the sports teams that I support. My favorite team of any sport in the world is the New York Islanders. I follow them every day, I have a few jerseys, and go to a few games per season. Does that make me a fan? Sure. Does it make me fanatical? I don't think so. Your not gonna find me standing on line in sub zero temperatures to get tickets or anything..Fanatics would be there though.
As I struggled to come up with something, I became concerned that I was wandering through life with nothing that I could say I was in love with. Then, in a moment that I have since called "the epiphany," I found out exactly what it was that I was passionate about.
On Sunday Night, I played in a small pick up game of Ultimate Frisbee, which is an amazing game, but it's not what I would call my passion. After the game, I was hopping a fence to get back to my car, and in a real freak accident, I rolled my ankle really bad off the curb. I was in intense pain. If I had any sort of health insurance, I surely would have gone and gotten it x-rayed. When I woke up Monday morning, I was barely able to walk. I called in sick to work that day, and realized that if I can barely walk, how was I going to be able to go on a 7 mile run that night? I became almost depressed, and then I got to thinking.. Running is something that I pretty much do 6 days a week, I do it for fun, I do it to get my mind off of other stuff, it is something that I truly love to do. And it's kind of funny, because maybe 18 months ago, you couldn't pay me to run, but now I've run a full marathon, a few half marathons, and countless other races. This whole week I have been pretty much just taking it easy and resting my ankle up, and it's honestly been a really rough week for me. We had some amazing weather this week, and for me to be sitting inside with my foot elevated and wrapped with ice, it was killer.
I guess sometimes it takes something negative to happen to make you realize something positive. Up until this past week, running has just been something that I do when I get home from work or school or whatever. I suppose I even took it for granted. But when something you like is taken away from you, its then that you realize that you might be in love.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
I saw the signs
Today, as I was driving around town, I noticed a few signs that struck me as interesting.
The first one was outside of the Levittown Public Library. The sign read "Caution: Blind Persons Crossing." Now, this made me think... Why would there be one blind person, let alone enough blind people, inside of a library to the point where they would need a sign outside warning about there street crossing habits? Upon further research, I found out that the Levittown Public Library only had a handful of books in braille, and a limited section of books on audiotape. So lets say that on any given day, considering that Levittown is not known for its blind population, there is one blind person at the Library. Do we really need a sign to warn us about them? They would be better suited putting a "Warning: Skaters Skating" or a "People reading" sign up.
Another sign that caught my attention was at the Dalton Funeral Home on the corner of Old Country Road and Jerusalem Ave. They have a fancy new digital sign outside of it, and it displays the time (which is 5 minutes fast), the temperature (which is 5 degrees colder) and then an interesting message. It says "Drive Safely." Now to me, this seems like it would be a conflict of interest. By them telling people to be careful when they drive, they are preventing them from driving like idiots, which would lead to less people dying, which would lead to less people needing to use the funeral home. If they had any business sense, they would not only write "drive erratically and crash into poles," but they would install some kind of strobe light into the sign as well.
The final sign I saw today was on Hempstead Turnpike in East Meadow, I think. It was outside of some kind of Puerto Rican Hair Salon, which advertised procedures such as "hair weaving" and "eyebrow threading." Now I'm not the most advanced hair technician, but both of those sound extremely painful and expensive. But that wasn't what really caught me off guard. Above the "Nail Tips $5" sign, there was a sign advertising "Individual Eyelashes!" As I kept on driving, I thought to myself.. Who in their right mind would possibly need an individual eyelash? It was really mind boggling. Then, as I sat at my kitchen table eating some pancakes, I noticed an eyelash on my plate, presumably my own. Instead of thinking "Shit! An eyelash fell out! I have to go buy a new one immediately!", I continued with my day, not once noticing any missing eyelashes.
The End
The first one was outside of the Levittown Public Library. The sign read "Caution: Blind Persons Crossing." Now, this made me think... Why would there be one blind person, let alone enough blind people, inside of a library to the point where they would need a sign outside warning about there street crossing habits? Upon further research, I found out that the Levittown Public Library only had a handful of books in braille, and a limited section of books on audiotape. So lets say that on any given day, considering that Levittown is not known for its blind population, there is one blind person at the Library. Do we really need a sign to warn us about them? They would be better suited putting a "Warning: Skaters Skating" or a "People reading" sign up.
Another sign that caught my attention was at the Dalton Funeral Home on the corner of Old Country Road and Jerusalem Ave. They have a fancy new digital sign outside of it, and it displays the time (which is 5 minutes fast), the temperature (which is 5 degrees colder) and then an interesting message. It says "Drive Safely." Now to me, this seems like it would be a conflict of interest. By them telling people to be careful when they drive, they are preventing them from driving like idiots, which would lead to less people dying, which would lead to less people needing to use the funeral home. If they had any business sense, they would not only write "drive erratically and crash into poles," but they would install some kind of strobe light into the sign as well.
The final sign I saw today was on Hempstead Turnpike in East Meadow, I think. It was outside of some kind of Puerto Rican Hair Salon, which advertised procedures such as "hair weaving" and "eyebrow threading." Now I'm not the most advanced hair technician, but both of those sound extremely painful and expensive. But that wasn't what really caught me off guard. Above the "Nail Tips $5" sign, there was a sign advertising "Individual Eyelashes!" As I kept on driving, I thought to myself.. Who in their right mind would possibly need an individual eyelash? It was really mind boggling. Then, as I sat at my kitchen table eating some pancakes, I noticed an eyelash on my plate, presumably my own. Instead of thinking "Shit! An eyelash fell out! I have to go buy a new one immediately!", I continued with my day, not once noticing any missing eyelashes.
The End
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
everyone hates al
For the past (approximately) 12 years, I have been addicted to current events. I love to watch local and national news, and love to read newspapers from around the world. (The only way to follow my favorite Australian Rules Football team, the Sydney Swans, is to read the online version of The Sydney Herald.) I love the sports section, the comics, the crosswords, the horoscopes, and in the recent past I have taken a liking to sudoku. But one thing that I can't stand about the news and newspapers is the amount of attention they give to one of the most annoying, idiotic, morons in the world today.
I'm talking of course about the Reverend Al Sharpton. For years I have sat by and watched as the good Reverend has acted as if he is "the king of all blacks." Anytime an African American is treated unfairly, Al comes out from wherever it is that he hides and gets his ugly mug on national news demanding that a white person takes some kind of blame for it. You see the same scenario all the time.. A black guy is working at a construction site, a brick falls on the guy's head, he's knocked unconscious, Sharpton takes an express limo to his hospital bed, calls for a press conference with the guy's mom standing next to him, and then demands that the white owner of the construction company is federally charged and also sued. Stuff like this happens all the time, and each time it gives Sharpton more and more political leverage.
Don Imus recently referred to the women's basketball team at Rutgers University as "nappy headed ho's." Now, before Imus said anything, I can almost guarantee that Al Shaprton never, ever watched a Rutgers woman's basketball game. I'm 99.9 percent sure that he couldn't name one player on the team. I would go so far to say that Sharpton didn't know that Rutgers even had a girls basketball team, and that he was probably sleeping in a king size bed in his mansion when Don Imus made his remarks. He clearly has no personal interest in the issue at hand, but because he is the self appointed leader of the blacks, he had to come out and demand that Don Imus be fired from his radio show that he has been doing for 35 years. His attack worked, as Imus was fired two days after he appeared on Sharpton's radio show where he apologized for the remarks.
Today, I would like to nominate myself as "the king of the whites." The next time Chris Rock makes a joke about white people, I will publicly demand that his sitcom "Everyone Hates Chris" is immediately cancelled and that he appears on my radio show to nationally apologize to white people everywhere. The next time a hip hop artist refers to a white person as a "cracka" in one of his songs, expect to see me on your local news leading a protest. The next time a black guy mugs a white guy, I will be at the white guy's bedside, hugging his mother and demanding that we put an end to black on white violence. And when I run for president in 30 years, you know I will be bringing all of that up.
It should also be mentioned that Al Sharpton one of the first people to call for the prosecution of the the three Duke lacrosse players who were accused of sexually assaulting an African American woman. He went on the nationally syndicated O'Reilly Factor and before any type of legal hearing took place, called the lacrosse players absolute liars. Every single charge against each of those three has been dropped, and Sharpton has not once apologized.
The bottom line is that the Reverend Al Sharpton uses the victims of murders and hate crimes as a stepping stone for his own political agenda. Since he is the "black leader," he should be using his energy to help put an end to problems in the black community, not just showing up wherever a TV camera might be.
I'm talking of course about the Reverend Al Sharpton. For years I have sat by and watched as the good Reverend has acted as if he is "the king of all blacks." Anytime an African American is treated unfairly, Al comes out from wherever it is that he hides and gets his ugly mug on national news demanding that a white person takes some kind of blame for it. You see the same scenario all the time.. A black guy is working at a construction site, a brick falls on the guy's head, he's knocked unconscious, Sharpton takes an express limo to his hospital bed, calls for a press conference with the guy's mom standing next to him, and then demands that the white owner of the construction company is federally charged and also sued. Stuff like this happens all the time, and each time it gives Sharpton more and more political leverage.
Don Imus recently referred to the women's basketball team at Rutgers University as "nappy headed ho's." Now, before Imus said anything, I can almost guarantee that Al Shaprton never, ever watched a Rutgers woman's basketball game. I'm 99.9 percent sure that he couldn't name one player on the team. I would go so far to say that Sharpton didn't know that Rutgers even had a girls basketball team, and that he was probably sleeping in a king size bed in his mansion when Don Imus made his remarks. He clearly has no personal interest in the issue at hand, but because he is the self appointed leader of the blacks, he had to come out and demand that Don Imus be fired from his radio show that he has been doing for 35 years. His attack worked, as Imus was fired two days after he appeared on Sharpton's radio show where he apologized for the remarks.
Today, I would like to nominate myself as "the king of the whites." The next time Chris Rock makes a joke about white people, I will publicly demand that his sitcom "Everyone Hates Chris" is immediately cancelled and that he appears on my radio show to nationally apologize to white people everywhere. The next time a hip hop artist refers to a white person as a "cracka" in one of his songs, expect to see me on your local news leading a protest. The next time a black guy mugs a white guy, I will be at the white guy's bedside, hugging his mother and demanding that we put an end to black on white violence. And when I run for president in 30 years, you know I will be bringing all of that up.
It should also be mentioned that Al Sharpton one of the first people to call for the prosecution of the the three Duke lacrosse players who were accused of sexually assaulting an African American woman. He went on the nationally syndicated O'Reilly Factor and before any type of legal hearing took place, called the lacrosse players absolute liars. Every single charge against each of those three has been dropped, and Sharpton has not once apologized.
The bottom line is that the Reverend Al Sharpton uses the victims of murders and hate crimes as a stepping stone for his own political agenda. Since he is the "black leader," he should be using his energy to help put an end to problems in the black community, not just showing up wherever a TV camera might be.
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