And the Winner Is...

So award season came to a close Sunday night with the pomp and flair of the Oscars.

It's been a pretty quiet week in New York and I'm too depressed to write about my experiences in a pub on saturday morning watching my pathetic football team whilst a group of Americans chimed "I thought Ronaldo was Brazilian." So instead I will talk about the glitz and glam of the Oscars.
Now lets not beat around the bush here, Americans love Oscar night, almost as much as the Superbowl (or i guess in honor of Arshavin's Arsenal debut the Superb Owl). The covergae starts long before the ceremony begins with talentless fecks giving their two cents on who will win. Still it's better than watching Claudia Winkleman strain to have any sort of opinion at 4am back home.
After predictions it's time to switch over to E! to watch Ryan Seacrest attempt the impossible act of crawling inside the rectum of every celebrity attending. Nobody knows how but he somehow manages this. He also has an amzing gift of being able to brush off more talented, wealthy, screen-time-worthy, people than himself in order to dash over to the next star and begin the long trek up the hole they crap out of.
Then Brad and Angelina arrive... In surely the most unprofessional moment on TV Ryan's co-presenter squeals with excitement and starts jabbering like a school girl who's been drugged by The Jonas Brothers as they burn their promise rings.
The best moment of the red carpet is when one of the 12 year olds from Slumdog decides that despite the wealth of talent he is surrounded by the only person he wants to meet is Miley Cyrus.... He obviously is yet to discover Miley doesn't take to well to ethnics.

Half an hour to go.... and ABC decide to throw the most overly gay man you can imagine in front of the camera to discuss what everyone is wearing... After half an hour of fawning he concludes that everyone looks "fabulous".... this is a lie.

And so after hours of pointless bullshit the ceremony gets underway. Out comes Hugh Jackman, an odd choice to host seeing as he's not a comedian. What he can do though is sing and dance... so he does! And pretty darn well too I thought.
The evening starts with Penelope Cruz picking up her first Oscar but then slowly tails off as we flick through the technical awards. Steve Martin cracks the most risque joke of the night by ripping on not the Jews, not the African-Americans, not the Hispanics, not the Gays.... but instead he has a dig at The Scientologists. Tom Cruise curses from a cave somewhere.
Hugh comes back and performs a number about musicals in the style of.... a musical. The kids from High School Musical and Mamma Mia join him looking suitably awkward, Beyonce whores herself out to another awards ceremony.

Then in the biggest non shock of the evening Heath Ledger wins. His mum, dad and sister collect the award and to be honest it's the first time I have ever felt moved by his death, a truly sad moment and every member of the audience cried, even Brad Pitt, who by showing such emotion apparently became even sexier.

The rest of the night went to form, apart from the decision to overlook Mickey Rourke and Slumdog deservedly won. The kid from Skins, who as Adam Jacobs points out does look like a Habs boy, cried. Fiat Punto looked shocked and one of my favorite directors did an impression of Tigger.

The last word however goes to the behemoth that is Brangelina. Surely they are the least loved up couple EVER! They didn't acknowledge each other once! They sat next to each other but not a loving hand on the knee nothing. It was very very creepy.

So after that apparent audition for Heat let's name drop in the style of the Oscars.

First off I would like to thank my Mother who today through Facebook nominated me for being a nice person.

I'd like to thank Hannah Nizri who has a birthday today and is the mother of my beautiful child... Oneg.

And finally I have to thank the T.S crew who's funny experiences pop into my head throughout most my days at school. Hard blacks and all that.

I hate football

I just thought I would let the world know that nothing is worse than waiting all year to watch your football team out here in the States and then seeing them lose only their second home game of the season. One day I guess I will be rewarded for following this shower of shite!

Planes, Trains, Buses and Tow-trucks

So before I begin my tale of a trip to Boston this weeks update starts here in New York. You see to get to Boston one has to take a bus from Port Authority Bus Station. Today readers I am going to explain to you why Port Authority is the most depressing place on earth.
When you step in it's like a time warp, cold, dreary and every conceivable shade of grey used to decorate the place. Now I thought the staff at Duane Reade had apathy for their jobs, Jesus himself would weep at the lazy approach taken to work here. Nobody seems happy, happy to be leaving New York, happy to be journeying somewhere new, nobody is happy, passengers, workers, fuck even the vending machines are depressed. The less said about the toilets the better really. However the piece de resistance of Port Authority is the music. Classical music is blared out at all hours of the day, yet this isn't good classical music, this is the worst music you have ever heard, it's akin to the Jones Brothers covering Stairway to Heaven whilst flaunting their promise rings in adoring teenagers faces, in fact it's worse than that, it's depressing morbid music that makes you want to slit your wrists.
People if you ever need to get anywhere from New York I beg you, for your own sanity, take the train from Penn Station, they have a Krispy Kreme there.

So onto Boston to see Jeff.
Jeff picked me up from the station in a pretty sweet car, I recognized it but didn't remember Jeff driving it from my last visit... Turns out it was Howie's car and he had lent it to Jeff for the weekend. After Jeff had visited the dentist amd performed other errands for the day we drove into Allston where Jeff had just moved to. Jeff was new to these parts but assured me he had THE perfect parking spot. We parked up and went on our merry way for an evening of fun.
The next morning we went to the magical spot to pick up Howie's car only to discover.... it wasn't there. Oh...my...God.
We had contrived to lose the car, shit. After some research we ascertained that it had been towed to pretty much the other side of town. So we hopped in a cab with a Nigerian driver who wanted to talk about how blue and white balloons remind him of Israel. After some negotiating with the white trash woman at the pound we finally had the car back. That afternoon we dropped it back at Howie's for the rest of the weekend.

That night it was time to party.... kinda. Jeff's sister Danielle was heading off to a college party and we decided to go along. After a monumental journey getting there where we doubled back on ourselves many times and ended up essentially back to where we had started the evening we arrived. The party was... well it wasn't the coolest and after about 5 minutes Jeff and I were very aware of our age. We decided to drink to feel more comfortable. This did not improve the party which peaked when a stout Indian girl emerged from a bedroom after a threesome and gave Jeff the 'come to bed eyes.' He weighed up his options however stouty was to go home alone that night. Some girl calld Jen told me she liked me, I told her I hadn't met her before, and then it was away and off into the night.
As usual I had a great time in Boston and a trip to the Lubin household for a helping of food was very appreciated.

L.N.D (let's name drop)

Jim and Barker - Every time I see a pundit exclaim that the Britannia stadium is a tough place to visit and the locals really get behind their team I imagine you two (Barker with a black eye) orchestrating the masses into a violent frenzy.

Rebecca Gilmore - You would have loved the constant Arad discussions over the weekend, how young we were!

Adam Zecharia - Could Effy be anymore wife worthy?

Miss you as always

Rob

From England but support Engerland

So England went away to the best team in the world and promptly got played off the park... is anyone surprised? I mean c'mon hands up who thought we would get something from the game... put 'em down you idiots.

This isn't a comment on the England team though, instead more of a woeful tale of their fans because you see I am a fan of England, however the gentlemen I had the honor of watching todays game with over here in New York were fans of Engerland. 

Let me explain. As the game starts an Engerland fan will sing the national anthem and champion the ability of Premiership also rans who look as comfortable at international level as A-Rod taking a leak at the doctors. Ten minutes into the game and England are obviously not going to beat the best team in the world on their own patch, however Engerland fans feel this isn't good enough and turn on the team, first up is the newbie who they have previously sung the praises of, today was Phil Jagielka's turn. As the best striker on the planet at the moment scores a beautiful goal instead of taking a step back and saying 'wow that was a bit special' the Engerland fan projects venom towards the screen exclaiming that the striker should have been "hacked down." This inevitably leads to the next stage of supporting Engerland, turning on the opposition. Today England played against the "Paella eating cunt munchers" just incase anyone was unclear, racism... it never hurt anyone.

Half time arrives and the Engerland fan refreshes himself with a nice beer whilst excaliming he always wanted Terry Venebles for the job. Terry Venebles!! TERRY FUCKING VENEBLES!!! are you quite deluded sir!? What on earth has that fat, perma-tanned, crook done since taking England to a semi final 13 years ago! Fool.

Then everyones favourite comes on, Peter Crouch. It doesn't matter that the player is good because it provides the Engerland fan with the opportunity to produce wit of the highest order screaming out "lanky fuck" or "freak show".... quite.

So the game peters out and as Spain score their second the bar empties and the Engerland fan proclaims "What a disappointment, as per usual."  I didn't think you could top your dickhead remark about Venebles but you just have! As per usual? really? Were you not present at Englands 4-1 stuffing of Croatia? Did you not witness our reserves take apart a German team on foreign soil? Do me a favour you prick.

And so the Engerland fan stumbles off into the dusk no doubt willing to vent his spleen about how bad his football team are to anyone and everyone. The worst part is had England won then the Engerland fan would have been calling up Five Live and stating that Don Fabio is going to win us the world cup. 

Ugh, at times I despair yet I'll be back, of course I will. My beloved Q.P.R will be on live in the very bar I sat in today in two weeks time, and lo and behold over here in New York there is still some muppet who thinks Venebles would do a job as manager! Yet every time the idiocy of some football fans gets me down I pause and allow myself a smile that at least I get to follow and be passionate about this sport because it could be worse, I could follow American Football.

A quick note on arguably the most important player to play for his country since Bobby Moore, the man who today equaled his record for International Caps, David Beckham. I'm a big Beckham fan and as a friend of mine put it "If you are in the AC Milan team then you are in the England team." Alright he wasn't brilliant tonight but he did as much or as little as any Beckham wanna-be's that have graced the number 7 shirt.

Some will moan he doesn't deserve his 108 caps but a man who can go from hero to villain to hero back to villain and then become a hero again deserves his place in history.

D-Beck (as the Yanks love to say) I salute you.

T.I vs Phelps

So the country is going nuts about Michael Phelps smoking exploits. Obviously a lot of people aint so happy that the all American boy has been partaking in an un-American past-time (yeah right!) and he has now been dropped by one of his many  sponsors.  

Whilst Phelps was staring mystified at the size of his hands but still finding Dane Cook unfunny (no amount of drugs can change that), rapper T.I was swaggerin' all over the stage at the Grammy's.

MIA/ Kanye West/ Jay-Z/ Lil Wayne / TI - Grammys - 2009
Uploaded by 3030fm

Now T.I is on his way to jail for possessing firearms yet is allowed to perform with Jay-Z at the Grammy's whilst Phelps got stoned and is a national disgrace and no longer allowed to sell kids a double helping of sugar with their Frosted Flakes in the morning. Excuse me whilst I go all Hannah Montana here but WTF!!!! 

So basically drugs are bad (Mmmmkay) but being sneaky sneaky with guns... yes guns y'know the things that shoot bullets is bad enough to send someone to jail for but cool to let them promote their next single in front of a live audience of millions. Call me stupid (You're stupid) but how can Kellogs drop Phelps but T.I's record company not drop him. Its Ludicrous I tell you (no not the rapper).

I have nothing against T.I and as far as I am concerned he did the crime and he's gonna do the time, as for Phelps.... Give the guy a break c'mon.

 

Men..... Boooooo!

So last night I had the joy of a group outing to see He's Just Not That Into You. Look I'm comfortable enough to admit I love a chick flick as much as the next semi-emotional guy however as I left the cinema I thought I was gonna get pelted with fruit by the 200 or so women in the audience for having a dick.

A message to women who see that film hoping for answers... men are a simple creature, it's essentially "Have Penis... will use it."

Guys that justify seeing this as a date movie because E form Entourage is in it... don't! Take a girl to see it and you aren't getting any sex... believe me!

What Not to Do

Shalom
It's early but as I sit here in front of West Ham v Man U I thought I'd write my update.

So I have finished my first term at NYFA, and in order to commemorate this my whole class and another had to perform a monologue we had been working on for an audience one evening. The process leading up to this had been pretty long, I mean I knew my monologue very well and could knock it out no problems.
Now I had decided to go for a more comedy based piece, the whole premise of my monologue was a dickhead talking about how he bullied his fat mother, lovely. Unfortunately all the girls in my class decided they wanted to go for DRAMA!!! So for the last few weeks I have had to hear monologues about molesting Uncles, Women who deserve equal rights and the unsexiest girl ever try and seduce a man whilst dressed as a hooker, it's been a test of endurance.
So on Monday it was finally time to perform these monologues, I was first up, a little nervous but hey I got to swear on stage thus killing the demons that have plagued me since playing Bill Smiley aged 17 and Tim Norton making me say Piss Off instead of Fuck Off, despite Tom Penn's best attempts to make me say Fuck. I guess I did O.K, but thats not the point of this story.
After my piece I sat and watched.... and watched... and watched and FINALLY the last guy was up. Now he was from the other class so I didn't really know him. His name.... Robert Wu.
Mr. Wu waltzed onto the stage and started his monologue. (On a side note Diego Tristan just came on for West Ham.... I remember him as a goal machine on CM, what a fall from grace!!) So... Mr. Wu, yes, he started his monologue and after about 30 seconds he paused and whispered "Oh my God" then went back to the star of is monologue. Wow, I thought that was great acting, I genuinely believed that this guy had forgotten his lines but it was part of the piece... right?
Wrong, Mr. Wu stopped short again, but instead of calmly walking off the stage, or composing himself, or even attempting some improv, Mr. Wu reacted.... well he reacted badly.
He started jumping up and down on the spot screaming "NO NO NO." He then slunk off the stage and kicked the wall. Jesus H. Christ it was intense.... but then Mr. Wu came back! Hooray! He started again but 10 seconds in he messed up...again. Dejected he walked off and all that could be heard in the auditorium was the thudding sound of Mr. Wu slowly banging his head against a wall in frustration.
Thankfully they eventually decided to go to a curtain call. 3 Days later we received a DVD of the monologue presentation, I am yet to watch myself but have watched, nay studied Mr. Wu's breakdown and am shocked that they continued to film the meltdown...even going to a close up at his most painful moment!!!
Johannes would be proud because they never stopped filming.

Game just finished... United are gonna walk it this year aren't they. Oh joy it's the full time analysis with Warren Barton (!!!) who instead of talking to the anchor looks straight down the camera, it's very unnerving, especially if you are watching the game in not many clothes.... Sorry I should have said England International Warren Barton.

I live 2 doors down from Duane Reed, which is kind of a combination of Boots and a cornershop. I have often frequented there in the wee hours of the morning when needing the oddest things (work it out). The thing is I have never...ever known service so unbelievably bad.

The staff that work there are useless, actually thats to kind, they are beyond useless.
My favourite however is a gay guy who works there called Ashanti. Ashanti is, bless him, not working at Duane Reed for the love of the job. I was waiting in line to but some shampoo one evening when I noticed Ashanti taking his sweet time counting out the change for the customer next to me and also getting it wrong. The customer rolled his eyes which led Ashanti to say to him, "Ewww you have Cum on your face." On closer inspection the customer did have some fluff on his chin, however the accusation that he had been munching down on dick did not sit kindly with him.
"What did you say!!"
"I said you have dirt on your face"
"No you didn't, you said cum"
"No I did not"
This continued until the manager arrived and backed up Ashanti.
I expected to never see Ashanti again after this however a few weeks later I walked into Duane Reed and heard a shriek emanating from behind the till. "OH MY GOD I LOVE YOUR SNEAKERS... WHERE ARE THEY FROM" I was slightly taken aback by Ashanti's love of my Nike's, yet before I could answer he was being reprimanded for being over an hour late for work!
There are many other stars at Duane Reed. There's the ongoing battle between the Hispanic 40 year old and the feisty Black girl with cushin' for the pushin' about allowing there friends to come and visit them at work. 
Phone girl, who I am yet to see not texting when serving a customer, and a whole host of others. Every time I go in there it's a new experience.
It unfortunately takes forever to get anything because everyone who works there is either stupid or hates their job.


NAME DROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP

Twenty Squids League Boys - I can't take this anymore, I'm very crap at this. I also want Daniel Gilbert tested for drugs to prove he has not been enhancing his performance through illegal means.

Louise - Or should I say George....

Daniel Marshall - Haven't said it for a while..... Marshall You leeeeegend.

It's gonna be a Boston special update next week.... 


Miss you all

Rob