Archive for February, 2005

Mr. Mucus

I recently decided that my new favorite commercial is for Mucinex. It’s an expectorant that helps clear the phlegm out of your lungs. Just the name expectorant makes me excited, like the best is yet to come. And what can you expect? Anthropomorphized phlegm from the 1920’s, they would have you believe.


Oh! Mr. Mucus! You old so and so! Start packing for the long trip…outta my lungs!

Mr. Mucus clogs you up somethin’ awful. I don’t know what the worst thing about Mr. Mucus is, the trail of slime he leaves after he has been expectorated, the fact that there’s a plug sticking out of his suitcase, or that his suitcase is so decorated and worn because Mr. Mucus is well-traveled. Or maybe it’s that he has a suitcase at all. Does he have frequent flier miles because he gets expectorated from so many people’s airways? Do people get uncomfortable sitting next to him in coach?

And I wonder, does Mr. Mucus visit his pal the nail fungus guy?

Whose wonderfully crazy, off beat mind was Mr. Mucus born out of? Because the hat and suspenders were a nice touch, whoever you are. Kudos for making me really believe that our olde timey Mr. Mucus might have left Annie at that orphanage all those years ago. Is the other half of her locket inside your suitcase? I guess we’ll never know. But thanks to Mucinex, I’m pretty sure the phlegm’l come out. Tomorrow.

My very own Donna Chang moment

Call it ignorance, a bad assumption on my part or just one more way Larry David has influenced the world’s collective unconscious, but today I had a Donna Chang situation on my hands.

My boss was expecting a guest this morning, last name Csan. Was it so stupid to assume she would be Asian? I don’t know what the ethnic origins of a name like Csan would be, but I assumed wrong because when I went to the waiting room and was faced with a white, blonde woman I almost said to Mia “I thought Mrs. Csan was here?”.

Needless to say Ms. Csan didn’t impart any Eastern philosophies on any of us on this day, but she did help us clear up a sales tax issue. “He who pays 8.25% pays too much” said Ms. Csan. To which I replied “In Bed”.

Cabbies: A spoiler story

I have been feeling really LOW lately, friends. I am having an attack of conscience of the worst ilk. But first, let me preface my story with another story. A story about a girl we will call “Jenny from the Block”.

Page Six informed me long long ago that whilst Miss Jenny from the Block was making the wonderfully quirky art film Maid in Manhattan, only then did she realize that people who work in service industries are in fact, PEOPLE too. It was not until she really went undercover to research her role (such a method actress) that she realized that maybe she shouldn’t yell so much at the gals who are responsible for the hydrotherapizing the lush floral arrangements of white orchids she demands in her rider and maybe she could hold off on verbally assaulting the ones who make up her 9000 thread count sheeted Tempurpedic. It was not until she played the role of a sorta poor maid who ends up getting rich in the end that she realized they deserve to be treated with a shred of respect.

It only took ME, one cab ride, however to figure this out. Now, anyone who knows me knows that my Friendster profile clearly states that my hobbies include extreme fighting, laughing loudly within earshot of people with obvious deformities and dropping metal objects that sound like change but upon further inspection clearly are not into the waiting cups of homeless people. I just don’t care about others. But when I was in a cab with Gil and Amy the other night we got to talking about the movie starring Robert DeNiro and Dakota Fanning entitled Hide and Seek. Gil had seen it. Amy and I had not. Since Amy and I were almost 100% certain that we were not going to see it, we forced Gil to tell us the scary, shocking, “surprise” ending. Which is all well and good for us.

It wasn’t until after I got out of the cab that I realized, what if my cab driver was going to go see that movie right after his shift? What if we gave away the ending to the movie he had been dying to see? Have we no shame? Sitting in that cab discussing the ending could have spoiled an experience for one man in this city. And that’s when I realized that cab drivers are people too, guys. Don’t forget that they can hear your conversations so try not to divulge too much because they work hard driving us places, we shouldn’t ruin the cinema for them by telling them that Million Dollar Baby is all about assisted suicide and not really so much about boxing or something like that. Promise me you won’t spoil anything for the fleet of drivers that make this city so great, okay guys? If I can become a better person and not do that stuff, so can you.