Donzi's Basement

Donz is a Fantasy Matchmaker III

2009-01-29T15:37:00.009-05:00

We're going back to the 80's. These two bad asses also had a good side to them as well. I present to you Powercouple #3:

Jo from the Facts of Life and Officer Tom Hanson Jr. from 21 Jump Street

Joanna Marie Polniaczek, played by Nancy McKeon, was the resident bad ass from the Bronx that corrupted the girls of Eastland Academy immediately, but turned out to be A-OK. Officer Tom Hanson Jr., played by Johhny Depp, was "bad cop" that did his civic duty, posing as a high school student, and getting to the bottom of serious issues. I could see these two riding to prom together on a motorcycle.

They both look like they would be a serious powercouple even today.

FMMTY, Donz.

Donz is a Fantasy Matchmaker II

2009-01-23T21:53:00.008-05:00

Sorry to stay with Power Rangers in this one, but this was meant to be. Power Couple #2 and Gay Power Couple #1:

Tony the Black Drummer from California Dreams and Zack the Black Power Ranger

Both were type cast, both had rhythm, and both were borderline surf dudes with attitudes. Tony was played by William James Jones and Zack was played by Walter Emanuel Jones. Were they related like Thomas and Julius Jones? Nope. Were they destined to be together? Yep.

Side Note: Saban Entertainment could have picked literally ANY color for the lone African-American main character. They chose black. Same goes for the Asian Yellow Power Ranger. Well done.

FMMTY, Donz.

Donz the Fantasy Matchmaker

2009-01-21T13:35:00.005-05:00

OK, I am back from trip around the world, but unfortunately my computer crashed and I lost all of my pictures and blogs. Bummer. Moving on, I thought it would be a horrible idea to try and do a no holds barred matchmaking series. So here it is. No crazy rules other than that there has to be a connection made between fictional characters/people on TV or film, but they cannot be from the same show or series. Here is my first Fantasy Supercouple:

Andrea from 90210 and Billy the Blue Power Ranger

Both are intellectual, quirky, and socially awkward and both were wrongly cast as teenagers at the age of 33. I am sure they would have a shit load to talk about. Maybe Andrea will pop Billy's cherry and have another "one and done" baby episodes again? Or maybe Billy will Sanji Snap Andreas neck accidently while trying to dance with her and then build an Andrea robot that couldn't get pregnant? It could happen.

Stay tuned for more. From my mind to yourz, Donz.

A Letter to Chuck Norris from my sister

2008-10-30T12:22:00.003-05:00

My sister Lauren, for some reason, was only recently introduced to the famous Chuck Norris Facts by an old friend of hers. This is her thoughts:

I can't decide if this dude's psychosis is funny or scary. Either way, here's my favorite "rule:"

Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.

do you think he can teach me to do this?

Dear Mr. Norris, I am a first year PhD student and I read 600 pages per week. I noticed that one of your delusional, herculean feats is to stare down books in order to attain necessary information from them. This is impressive to me. I wonder if in your spare time--when you're not brushing the teeth of a Great White shark or wrestling Osama Bin Laden into submission--you wouldn't mind teaching me this fantastic trick? And by "trick," I am of course referring to this ridiculous skill you've drummed up as a cover for the fact that you more than likely cannot read. Yeah, that's right, I said it, Chuck. But it's OK. Lots of people under the age of 3 can't read. And hey, don't forget: you're still the guy who can kill two stones with one bird. That's an enduring life skill, if I've ever heard of one. So chin up, my friend.

Yours,

L. Fanelli

This letter should be signed, sealed, and delivered. From my mind to yourz, Donz.

Why I Love the News

2008-10-09T15:20:00.004-05:00

Something just reminded me of a news brief that I saw Tuesday that had me cracking up. It went something like this:

(Concerned) Coming up at noon, the markets continue to fall, as it looks more like a buyers’ strike than a bear rampage. The Federal Reserve is considering a new intervention in the US financial system as markets worldwide continue to plunge and the Dow continues to dip below the 10 thousand mark. (Content) In other news Beverly Hills Chihuahua continues to top the box office. We'll see you for more at noon.

We are on the brink of Armageddon, but don't worry a Disney movie about talking Chihuahuas is making millions. AMERICA... FUCK YEA!

Random Thought on Bumping and Grinding

2008-10-08T10:30:00.009-05:00

Something that seems to always be one of those quirky things on my mind is how I will be dancing when I am older. Will I still be bumping and grinding, dirty dancing, going off and showing the dude next to me that I can have his lady just by moving my mesmerizing hips?

I like to dance. I like to dance a lot... with girls. Not so much the chicks that just bend over and shake their asses into Little Donz, but those that really know how to move. I have been unimpressed by the fact that more chicks think they can get away with just shoving their asses in my stuff.

You can look at a time line of American partner dance trends: The Waltz, The Charlseton, The Lindy, Swing, Sock Hops & Strolling, The Jitterbug, The Jive, the fucking Twist, Monkey, and Mashed Potato, Disco, just straight up 80's Carleton dancing, Patrick Swayze and Pat Benatar dirty dancing. Then there is bumping and grinding.

For the most part every generation sticks with their type of dance. I never saw my grandparents rocking to disco or grinding, nor would I want to. My parents can dance very well. They feel the beat, do the dips and spins, rock a couple 70's John Travolta moves here and there. My pops can Cha-Cha with the best of them. No grinding though.

So I can just picture myself at my grandkid's wedding, griding and rocking with my cock out. I probably won't be able to move like I do now, but you never know what modern medicine is going to be like then. I wonder if they are going to play Montel Jordan, Biggy, Bon Jovi, Snoop, JaRule, Fity Cent, & Def Leppard for us old timers? Is Regulators or Forever going to come on?

These are just the useless things I think about to pass the day. It's sad, I know. Love is a Battlefield.

From my mind to yourz, Donz.

GChat = GCreepy

2008-10-07T09:24:00.010-05:00

Is it me or does the Google Chat function make you feel awkward at times? I didn't do too hot on the analogies section of the SAT's, but I compare the Gchat application to being like the Men's Room at Port Authority. I feel like I am on the end of a long row of urinals, taking a long piss, making eye contact with everyone that Gmail chooses to put for me on Gchat. I honestly don't chat a lot, but for some reason I sometimes feel obligated to because I feel like everyone that is available (green) is staring at me not saying anything. I equate those that are busy (orange) as taking up the stalls in the bathroom and those that are in "do not disturb mode" (red) just washed their hands and left...but they'll be back.

I don't know, it gets awkward. I only talk to like 2 or 3 people on my list. Everyone else is from some walk of my life, however there are at least 3 or 4 people that I have never seen, nor have ever spoken to.

Does Gmail want me to make new friends with random individuals that I have had the honor of being in an email chain with? Gmail you sly devil you. I guess this algorithm is the baby of Google's future Matchmaker application. Random thought: I am sure there will be a time where you can put a G in front of anything because it looks like Google will make their own version of every entity on this earth. Gtrees, Gpocketbooks, Goboes, GreincarnatedChristopherColumbus (so he can tell us what really went down), Gsoup.

Anyway, I don't mind chatting with anyone. And I could easily sign out of chat, but what's the fun of that? It's like having a serious staring contest. And for those who know me know that Donz does not lose starring contests (except to Anoop Raman in 10th grade... after 35 minutes... on a bus trip to Boston).

Oh yea I got fired last week.

From my mind to yourz, Donz.

Myths of Life

2008-09-04T15:42:00.005-05:00

My computer is slow. I don't care if I get rid of all the spyware, worms, Trojan Horses, cookies, crumbs, Spartan swords, viruses, pornbugs, bed bugs, rocking chairs, tornadoes, hula girls, tap shoes, and bullshit SPAM, that is lodged in and around my hard drive. My computer will still be slow. I can add memory, a new processor, a flux capacitor, it won't matter, it will still test my patience.

What I can't figure out is this:

I click to ex out a webpage or an open document and nothing happens. My command did not work. I click again. Nothing. Three more clicks in a row and the hour glass decides to show up, like I just made the computer mad and it's deciding to scold me. Or like I just woke the computer up from a sexy dream of bytes, hertz, and scrolling Marquee's. I now get mad and I click some more. "This program is not responding" screen comes up. I click the "stop causing me pain" button / close button. A staring competition ensues with myself and the hour glass. I start clicking harder and moving the mouse all over the screen. A couple of more "No response" screens come up, piling up on eachother like a stack of baseball cards. There is no Topps Don Mattingly rookie card in this deck. Eventually the hour glass just stops moving even though I am violently moving and clicking my mouse and screaming why there is no God. My jugular looks like a large clown straw at this point. Forhead veins are popping out.

I give up, realize I am late for wherever it was I had to be, and sulk. Finally, the page, as if I a dirty window was getting cleaned with a new squeegee, just gets wiped down. Everything that was open is magically erased and I am now staring at my background. Then it happens. The computer has the balls to ask me if I want to report whatever glitch happened back to Microsoftland (Imagine Microsoftland? Separate Basement for that).

Now for years I pulled the "no fuck it, I don't want my computer to freeze again while the little man on my motherboard figures out the problem and reports it back to the mothership so they can spare some poor other asshole from what I had to go through." But I felt spiteful and I wanted to do the closest thing to giving Microsoft a piece of my mind, so I obliged and pushed the Send button. No joke, in a matter of 5 seconds, it was sent. Bing bang boom. No problems, no freezing, nothing. Just a happy little message being sent back home.

Myth of Life: How does my computer freeze from trying to close a fucking Word document, with the word DICK centered in the middle at size 14 Times New Roman, further wasting my time, but takes less than 5 seconds to send an error report?

Personally, I don't think the computer sends shit. If it did, I would never see that son of a bitch hour glass ever again. But, ya know what, he still pops up daily. It's all a farce, done for peace of mind. "We took care of it", "everything is OK", "we got your back dog." Bullshit you do.

Fuck you hour glass, fuck you Microsoft, and fuck you Spartan swords.

From my mind, to yourz.

Couldn't Pass this Up

2008-04-30T19:50:00.003-05:00

I haven't posted since December? Shit. Oh well. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to bring to light something that I read in one of my gay muscle magazines that grace the bathroom of my office. About half of one of these magazines is filled with advertisements for some of the most lab driven supplements and masked steroids out on the market. Just looking at one of these advertisements for N.O. Plasmacore, Cytolean or Anabolic OD, makes me feel like I am getting stronger. Just one glance and I can feel my veins peeking through my furry forearms. I feel myself getting angry and I mysteriously get the urge to throw my couch out the window.

One of these "supplements" is called Creakic. It's a creatine pill? I think they brew it from a Mark McGuire lab child. Some of the stupidity written on the canister it comes in is just fascinating. Here are the 4 bullet points written on the bottle:

Most Powerful Creatine Pill IN EXISTENCE

World's First & Only MUSCLE RECEPTOR HYPERACTIVATOR

Induces Rapid Gains in Size & Strength WITH NANOMOLECULAR TECHNOLOGY

IMMEDIATELY RECHARGES CREATINE RECEPTORS BY DEACTIVATING REACTIVE OXYGEN SPECIES

I can just see your average steakhead looking at this advertisement and immediately eating one of the small orphans he has locked up in his basement. Protein! Deactivating Reactive Oxygen Species? Big Scientific words + Joey Gabanzo from Nutley, NJ getting out of his tanning bed = trouble. Take a look at the "science" behind this product here:

http://www.muscletech.com/products/creakic/science.shtml

I can feel my nuts getting smaller already. One more advertisement I must bring to the forefront here is TESTAGEN. Who's the spokesman? Jose Canseco! Main slogan: WHAT'S CANSECO ON NOW? What's Canseco on now? How about What The Fuck? TESTAGEN is developed by GAT: German American Technologies. AKA, the same crazy Nazi bastards that fucked with the German Olympic team and now hang out at Merck. Take a look at the link below. Under the "Coming Soon" label it reads like this word for word in the magazine (a bio on Canseco):

Introduced weight lifting to baseball

in his quest to become the best athlete he had ever seen, he became expert at using performance supplementation.

40/40: First to steal 40 bases and hit 40 homers in a single season. Seven Teams. 462 homers.

Rookie of the Year. American League MVP.

Controversy. Everywhere.

The second line doesn't even make sense and they state Seven Teams in the third bullet point like it is an accomplishment. Again, I wrote it as is with no edits. What a joke. This is one time that I really don't need much material here. This is so mind boggling it is hilarious to me. Please take a look at this website. You won't be sorry. I'm going to go ice my ass.

http://www.germanamericantechnologies.com/testagen_2008.html

From my mind to yourz, Donz.

Editors note (Me): When spell checking the following words were highlighted: Plasmacore, Cytolean, Creakic, Creatine, Hyperactivator, Nanomolecular, Nutley, Canseco, Gabanzo, TESTAGEN, GAT, and yourz. Any connections?

80's Loves Goblins

2007-12-08T14:04:00.000-05:00

I get that same feeling watching 80's films and cartoons, as I do looking at 80's toys, appliances and other consumer goods. It just seemed like things were made a little stronger back then. It seems like a lot of hand crafted, intricate detailed, things back then have been made more streamlined and cost efficient. And I as I wipe the tears away from my eyes, I remember the slew of 80's movies that gave me nightmares, filled with freakish fantasy characheters, even if the movies were rated G. Some of these movies have become cult classics.

Ahhh, the days when Hollywood used to actually hire midgets and dress them up in hand made garments and put them through 8 hours of makeup to become a mythical being. Sure we all remember the Brat Pack and their many classics. But there are a handful of cult classics from the 80's that have one common theme: An excess of mythical characters. I think there was an over obsession for goblins, ghouls, elves, monsters, witches, and undefinable ugly beings. Unfortunately I haven't seen any of the Harry Potter's, or Chronicles of Narnia, and I have only caught half of one of the Lord of the Rings. What I do know about them, however, is that, like other modern epic films, there was a good amount of special effects and added computer generated characters. Let's throw that computer shit out the window and go back to a time where we were getting taught about fractions from Elmo and Grover, on our Apple II floppy disk programs.

The Never Ending Story, The Monster Squad, Gremlins, Willow, Poltergeist, Critters, Harry and the Hendersons, Krull, Munchies, Puppet Master, Troll, Hobgoblins, Howard the Duck, The Beast Master, Predator, Alien, Ghoulies, The Garbage Pail Kids...I mean the list of fantasy and horror films goes on. I also just want to mention Solarbabies and The Warriors as great fantasy-punk 80's classics. I really want to concentrate on two great flicks though: Legend and Labyrinth.

Legend, obviously starring Tom Cruise (Endless Love), Mia Sara (Ferris Beuller's Day Off), and Tim Curry (Home Alone 2), is filled with some of the most fucked up, scary characters I have ever seen in any movie. From the Lord of Darkness, to his henchgoblin Blix, to that creepy little boy elf, Honeythorn Gump. That movie should have been rated "?" and had a "This film might cause you to shit in your bed from nightmares" warning. I really love to watch how the almost inaudible weirdos talk out the plot of the movie that can leave you scratching your head. But it's fantasy, and it's the 80's, and it's just fantastic. It took me about 3 times to figure out what the hell was going on, because of the fast, troll accented dialog being drowned out by my washer and dryer, cleaning my shit stained sheets. But the Irish midgets and other people that played the mythical roles, were amazing. The costumes and make-up were just super.

Labyrinth, starring Jennifer Connelly (The Rocketeer) and David Bowie (Zoolander), is what happens when Jim Henson and George Lucas make sweet passionate bear love after a long hard peyote binge in an arcade. The list of weird fucking characters is endless. It's basically the same premise as Legend. A human has to save another human from some creepy psycho, and is guided/protected by good elves and trolls from the bad monsters, goblins, and other scary, making me dread closing my eyes at night, characters. Except this time, the Goblin King, David Bowie, can do sick tricks with a glass ball and lends his creepy Ziggy Stardust voice to the mix. This is a must see.

So all in all, when I think of the 80's, I don't think of Molly Ringwald (except to masturbate in my polka dot thong) I think of scary fantasy movies filled with memorable characters that scared the shit out of me. In conclusion, there is still only one movie character(s) that still make(s) me not want to go to sleep at night, and that would have to be the Wheelers from Return to Oz.

How was that movie for kids? That is one of the scariest, sweat down the crack of your ass, films in the history of cinema and should be taken off the kids section shelves. There's not even one fucking song in that film. Only, headless witches, electric shock therapy, talking pumpkins and robots, Oz looks like the slums of Baltimore, the Mombie King, and the fucking Wheelers. OK, I am going to go take a roofie to forget all this nonsense. From my mind to yours, Donz.

Away Message of the Day!

2007-11-21T09:01:00.000-05:00

I am so happy right now! Why? Because if you haven't heard yet, The Munchkins from the classic movie, The Wizard of Oz, have gotten their own star on the Walk of Fame in Hollywood! Let me say that again, all Munchkins from the Wizard of Oz got one star. Does anyone find this funny as hell? I am looking way too into this but I find the concept of generalizing all "munchkins", a.k.a. dolled up midgets, fucking great. I am picturing the hire-ups in Hollywood contemplating this : "Fine, ya know what, fuck 'em. If you smush enough of them together they
kind of make a person, right? We'll give 'em all one star. Just one for those little bastards. None of those things are still alive right? ...What? Seven are?!!! Fuck it, that might equal a 6'4" 230lb Hollywood star, right? We'll give it to them on one condition: They must wear their old costumes, hold big old lolly pops, and do a little tap dance for us! Diane, call 'em up!"

Please enjoy the link below. Just click on the video: Munchkins get a star.

http://abcnews.go.com/search?searchtext=munchkins&type

Donzi Answers Clever Question #3

2007-11-02T07:29:00.000-05:00

Q: Whose idea was it to put an 'S' in the word 'lisp'?

Donzi Answer: The same person who used to give you a swirly in High School, made you drink your own piss in college, and left you with weekend work in the corporate world.

Away Message of the Day

2007-10-31T07:37:00.000-05:00

Why do Kamikaze pilots wear helmets?

Donzi Answer - In case they shit their pants, bail out, lose control of their planes and have to emergency land in the fields of Hawaii. They can then blend in with the local folk, eventually become part of the Japanese-American Internment and go on to live happily ever after making better electronics than us.

Donzi Answers Clever Question #1

2007-10-26T07:46:00.001-05:00

Q: Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard?

Donzi Answer: He shaves with with lion teeth to impress the female wolves. It's either that or Disney doesn't like people with beards. Like shouldn't have Aladdin had a beard? Think about it.

Away Message of the Day

2007-10-25T07:27:00.000-05:00

Don't cheat the system. Fuck the system.

Away Message of the Day

2007-10-23T19:36:00.000-05:00

(Tupac + A Lollypop Kid + Bollywood + The Middle East + Passion) = (A pick-me-up for any horrible day)^(One of the best videos I have ever seen)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ssMdjvcQe38

Away Message of the Day

2007-10-22T10:41:00.000-05:00

Motivational Message #253:

You can run from an angry mob of animals, but you can't hide

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tCrDgm_H678

Fu Man Chu Friday

2007-10-19T06:31:00.000-05:00

It's Fu Man Chu Friday!!!!

Proverbs of the Day

2007-10-16T17:44:00.000-05:00

"You can lead the horse to the trough...but you can't pay a midget to wax your car"

-joseph stalin

"A fool sees not the same tree as a blind man does"

-tom sawyer

"A man does not seek his luck, luck seeks those who break into orphanages and steal all the Campbell's Soup and A1 Sauce"

-new indonesian proverb

"A penny for your...shit a penny won't buy you dick!"

-patty mayonnaise

"A new broom sweeps clean, but the old brush gets hidden with Grandma in the closet"

-old irish spell

"An uncle who makes advances on the waitress, only to be strangled to death in the men's room, should not have ordered the unlimited salad and bread sticks. Olive Garden. When you're here, you're family."

-the associated press

Away Message of the Day

2007-10-15T10:47:00.000-05:00

Margaret Thatcher: "Create a logarithm that maximises the length of a bent B# note on the E string of a Sitar and can also forecast the winner of the Chinese Math Olympia competition "

Thomas Edison: "Listen bitch, I was just hired to clean toilets, but I'd be happy to give you a referral"

George Muresan: "I'll do it!"

Away Message of the Day

2007-10-11T07:40:00.000-05:00

We live in a nation where a raging alcoholic celebrity gets to "judge" a common man's talents

Away Message of the Day

2007-10-09T21:10:00.000-05:00

I pulled my back reading poetry...

Away Message of the Day

2007-10-08T18:56:00.000-05:00

"I don't remember... I banged everyone back then. The director, my teacher, Peppermint Patty every afternoon in my trailer, bondage with Lucy every weekend, Snoopy when I was on my meth binge for money, little Mo with the gimpy leg, Cliff. Shit I even had Linus and Rerun dress up as aliens and bang Marcy while I filmed. Good grief! I was in bad shape."

-Charlie Brown

Courtesy of E! True Hollywood Story: What the F*ck Happened to You, Charlie Brown?

Gmail Away Message of the Day

2007-10-04T21:08:00.000-05:00

Donzi:

is bird watching with Bob Barker and Bea Arthur

Away Message of the Day

2007-10-04T07:31:00.001-05:00

"Studies now show that Arnold Schwarzenegger was actually impregnated for his role in the Blockbuster hit Junior. It seems the whole "The Boys from Brazil" story is not so much fiction after all, as it was found that the DNA of Arnold's aborted fetus, which he called a "prop", did in fact match that of Adolf Hitler's. Stay tuned for more details."

Away Message of the Day

2007-10-02T21:23:00.000-05:00

"If I was in a band, I wouldn't wear any shoes"

-Mike Giunta

Away Message of the Day

2007-09-20T10:50:00.001-05:00

I feel like doing a little somethin somethin everyday with Donzi's Basement. I would like to be more committed, but unfortunately I am too busy reading the want ads, digging through garbage cans, and selling my body for cheese. I think if I write a quick little entry daily, it will help with my dedication to all 5 of you who read this blog. I decided to write an "Away Message of the Day." This will consist of me waking up and writing down random nonsense that I make up, like fake quotes and general hogwash. It might be funny, it might be weird, it might tank, I don't care. It's 100% random and 100% Donz.

"Is that Jon Secada in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

Mike Giunta's Real Worl Facts

2007-09-11T16:38:00.000-05:00

It is necessary that the 12 Real World Facts of Mike Giunta, a gentleman whose blog has been dead for over a year now and that I used to contribute to, be told. These were written, after Fratastic Mike himself just joined the daily grind of work, 3 years ago:

*Note: I tried for about a week to make this look better...No matter how many times I edited, it just looked like shit...deal with it...

Real World Fact Number 1

No one cares how Fratastic I once was…

Real World Fact Number 2

There is no hazing in the real world. The senior guys at my office didn't degrade me and make me stand in a hot, dark room listening to a cotton eyed joe hamster dance remix for 4 hours at a time for 3 months before they would hire me. They actually treated me with respect and helped me when I needed it. Weird…

Real World Fact Number 3

There is no such thing as morning cocktails. Putting a bag of wine down your pants and trying to get your boss to drink out of the spigot that is dangling from your zipper is unacceptable. Along those same lines, working into work with nothing but your boxers and a bathrobe with a big red grain stain on the front is grounds for immediate dismissal. The Frat has done nothing to move me ahead in the corporate world…

Real World Fact Number 4

No one cheers when you vomit…

Real World Fact Number 5

There is no such thing as an eighties work day. Dear Christ how I would love to throw on a pair of short shorts and my official Bruce Springsteen tour shirt and dance all day long to the likes of AHA and Tears for Fear but I’m sad to say that those days are officially over…

Real World Fact Number 6

Wearing your collar up still makes you vastly superior to everyone else…

Real World Fact Number 7

There is absolutely no reason to drink Ice Beer. Ice Beer, otherwise known as “Fight in a Can”, is responsible for blackouts, bar fights and destroying relationships and should be outlawed.

Real World Fact Number 8

Peer pressure does not work as well in the real world. Saying things like “Just fucking sign those papers you pussy”, “Funnel that coffee bitch”, and of course “Dude, she’s good to go” don't get you any further.

Real World Fact Number 9

Red Bull is a modern day panacea. Drink too much in the afternoon but just have to make it to the bar at night? Red Bull. Hungover but have to get to work on time? Red Bull. On the bad half of a Charlie Sheen like bender? Red Bull.

Real World Fact Number 10

Don’t tell your co-workers stories from college. They just don’t understand and they never look at you the same after you explain to them some of the things you did during pledging.

Real World Fact Number 11

Freshman girls think I’m creepy

Real World Fact Number 12

Don’t give your college buddies your work number. The last person you need interrupting you during an important meeting with your boss is your old roommate who is currently on his 16th beer at four in the afternoon and can do nothing at this point except yell into the phone about how much of a pussy you are for being at work.

From my mind to yours, Donz.

Donzi's Disasters

2007-08-20T20:07:00.000-05:00

The thorns in my side. The actions that make me shake my head and grind my teeth. The things that make me want to take a cold shower and stare at my shriveled bean bag in the mirror while putting on tangerine lipstick...Wait...What? Anyway, just a couple of things that I just can't figure out:

1. EZ Pass has to furnish an instruction manual, or just get their shit together. Someone has to tell the motorist from Maryland that they don't need to come to a complete stop, just to wait and read the fast food menu for the words, EZ Pass Paid, Thank You. Honestly I don't even know what comes up on the screen, that's how fast I go through an EZ Pass. Please cut the shit with the 10mph, 15 mph, 20 mph, 55mph signs. I was actually in one lane that read 10mph, and the lane to my left read 15mph the other day. Seriously? Even when it says 15mph, why do people insist to slow down to a baby crawl and see if their EZ Pass is paid? Do they think their pass is electrically connected to their motor and it will automatically shut off, if god forbid the device was misread? Or that the EZ Pass troll comes out of the booth and races after your car spitting fire balls from its ass to melt your tires? The Express lane uses the same fuckin RFID transponder technology (Wiki!) that the actual toll lane does, so why can you drive 110mph through that? Safety reasons you say? If you need to be told how fast to drive through a narrow toll, you shouldn't be on the road. Stop defeating the whole purpose of the EZ pass and please fly through that motherfucker at a solid 30-50mph (toll) and at least 95mph through the express.

2. Little girl, please take that washable paint off your windows. I don't give a shit that you are: ***Class of 2007***District V Field Hockey Champs***# 2 Oral Satisfaction North Jersey***Heyyy and Gay***Good Luck Bayside, Beat Valley***We did it!***

We don't give a shit. Hey I graduated fucking high school too. Guess what, it's not that hard. You know when you can put fake paint on your windshield? When you graduate from Harvard Law or Wharton Business School, or cure cancer, or bring back Alf on TVLand.

***Harvard Law 2007...I'm Better Than You & I Know It***

3. 800 Giuseppe Franco commercials when I am trying to watch a Yankee game on the YES Network. "Hey I'm fuckin Giuseppe Franco, and I'm the fuckin son of Skelletor and Christopher Moltisanti." YES please sponsor anything else. I wouldn't care if you through a Wiggles commercial in there every game, just lessen the ginzo beautician.

4. Rubbernecking. Fuck. I love sitting in an hours worth of traffic when I am making a midday run to the strip club, to finally get a glimpse offfff....a cop helping Mrs. Pigglesworth change a tire. If there is an arm laying on the ground, or an old school cops and robbers shootout going on, or if they are filming Debbi Does the Garden State Parkway, then it might be worth it. But anytime there are flashing blue and red lights, we are instantly put in a trance and have to look to see what is going on. We are so fucking nosey. A moment of clarity, hoping that they see something that makes them say..."Hey I could always be that guy." Helicopter medic airlifting half a body from a multi truck accident, understandable. It's almost like waiting on the long line at Six Flags because you know the ride is worth it. But a fender bender, two teenagers on their cell phone because they have a flat tire, or someone has their hazards on while taking a piss. Unacceptable. Move it along you child molester.

On a similar note: If a cop is on the other side of the highway... you don't have to slow down from 85mph to 45mph in 0.5 seconds. He's not going to jump the cement divider.

That is all. Stay tuned for some random daily thoughts and a nostalgic post. From my mind to yourz, Donz.

Let Me Lay it on the Line: The Gym

2007-07-18T18:06:00.000-05:00

YAWWWWWNNNNN...oh man...what happened? I guess I took a 3 month nap or something. What?! Paris Hilton went to jail? The Yankees got Roger Clemens? I joined a gym?! That's right, I am doing the "wake up early, beat the traffic, and pump some iron" routine at the crack of my ass dawn. The environment I enter and the people that I encounter everyday are definitely worthy enough to have an article dedicated to them. Here is Donzi's guide to The Gym:

The Environment:

You will immediately walk into an open room, with a gust of fake, cold air blowing into your face, and the sounds of DJ Gofuckyourself blasting over the 158 speakers that are sprinkled throughout the arena. If you are lucky there will be 80's rock Tuesdays at your weight pit. Bally Total Fitness, Lucille Roberts, and Curves, will be noticeably clean since they are geared towards the females. Gold's Gym, World Gym, Uncle Vito's Gym, The Gym, The Weight Pit, The Pit Pit, and basically anything with Gym or Pit in the name will be geared towards guys and smell like every dude's ball sweat plus ammonia. You will be greeted by either the trainer or the hot chick.

The Hot-Chick:

All she has to do is watch people beep or swipe a membership card and verify that they indeed look like the asshole whose picture comes up on the computer in front of her. She has to have an ass like a 10 year old boy and a low cut spandex shirt. She also might be able to make smoothies.

The Personal Trainer:

Pumped the fuck up! Low voice, veins everywhere, bleached blond spiked gel soaked hair, with a perfect fade, will try to convince you he knows about nutrition, which consists of: boiled chicken, steamed broccoli, protein shakes, creatine, andro, horse tranquilizers, and brown rice... or ... The dude who resembles a stock broker / C++ Programmer, who looks like he doesn't have a spec of athletic ability, but is some how "famous" and "the man." Both will pretend to motivate and spot you, but really they are staring at the MILFs or their own ass in the mirror.

The MILF:

You know they are married to money, the least they can do is look good. All spandex, post-two- kid-semi-saggy ass, fake tits (Merry Christmas!), fake tan, possibly on the phone, only lift 3-5lb teal or pink rubber dumbbells, walk for about 2 hours on the treadmill, go "anorexic girl" hard on the elliptical, and have a love/hate relationship with all 200 mirrors in the gym. They are there to impress the Young Studs.

Young Studs:

The most broad of categories...but usually is between 18-35, has a baseball cap that is worn forwards/backwards or is taken off just before a blow out a set. Can be seen in pairs, lifting the beach muscles, one muscle group a day; won't be caught dead on an elliptical, but goes Michael Johnson on the treadmill, has more energy then a 4 month old puppy, loves maxing out in curls and the bench press while staring in the mirror, and grunting... envies the muscles of Alpha Male, but laughs at his penis size.

Alpha Male:

"Yo bro, you doin legs today?!!!" is screamed across the room, radiating off the black rubber floor. "Na bro, it's my delts, lats, glutes, clavicle, nostril, temple, forearm, right pectoral day." Their back looks like an inverted triangle and his jugular looks like a clown straw, there are veins everywhere, does 8 sets of 1 rep, with at least three 45 plates on both sides of the bar for every exercise, drinks protein mixed with creatine, bat's blood, and the hair of a baby Viking, is tanner than Roberto Kelly, asks for a spot from at least everyone in the gym, screams with every rep, wears a tank top with nipples showing, chalk on hands, hangs out in a white towel in the locker room, looks like Hercules' roided up half cousin Bret, loves the mirror and laughs at the Just Happy to Be Here Guy.

Just Happy to Be Here Guy:

Thinks by just walking through the door, he gets bigger. Talks to everyone, loves the water fountain, stretches for 30 minutes, wears a headband, lifting gloves, wears sweatpants with elastic bottom, or short nylon shorts with lined tube socks, sports the name of the gym he is working out in on his shirt, curls the bar with no weights, is balding, tries to friend the Scary Old Timer.

Scary Old Timer:

Between 50-65 years old, sporting a gold chain with his favorite Saint and Jesus, which being swallowed up by his protruding silver chest hair, no muscle definition but is stronger than an ox and could beat the shit out of a Young Stud, never smiles, showers and air dries, is nicknamed Pops, Mac, Joe Joe, or Sir, healthy Florida tan, tries to avoid, just like everyone else...The Happy Nude...

The Happy Nude:

He talks to me like we are two guys watching our kids play at the park, he loves being naked, he could fall in any category, but is usually a 40+ male, he just will not put his pants on, he'll shave naked, he'll walk to the shower naked, walk out naked, put on a collared shirt, strike up a conversation with you as the head of his dick and the bottom 1/3 of his balls peeks out like a turtle testing the morning air, if you make him laugh you get the whole show, combs his hair with just his T-Shirt on, loves to talk about sports, stocks, terrorism, and just about anything that will get another male to agree or disagree, most of the time just talks about stupid shit: "hot out isn't it?" "How good is Jeter, right?" "You see those iPhones? Wow-ee" Shut the fuck up, put some pants on, and leave me alone you creepy fuck!

Stay tuned, Donzi's Basement is back. When will the next one be? I don't know, I need a nap. From my mind to yours, Donz.

Tales From the Frat: Medieval Times

2007-03-19T19:53:00.000-05:00

White water rafting or Medieval Times? Gee let me think. I think the vote for our brotherhood trip, first semester of my senior year was almost unanimous. For people that voted against it, they weren't sure what the hell Medieval Times was. The last time I was there, I was 10 years old, wore a cute cub scouts uniform, and was escorted by chaperones. For those out there who are still confused, check out this royal website: http://www.medievaltimes.com/. In a nutshell it’s Chuckie Cheese meets a Knights Tale. Substitute the ball pit for an all dirt arena, the video games with real life, color coded knights on horseback, the pizza for soup, chicken, and beer served on metal plates, and Mr. Charles Cheese, for a King, a Queen, and a Princess. The chaperones, such as parents and group leaders, stayed the same since it is for a “younger” crowd…. except in our case. Picture 30 out of control drunk assholes crashing the Land of Make Believe and you got yourself a Tales from the Frat!

Our house rented a bus to make the 2 hour trip from Bethlehem, PA to the Lyndhurst, NJ castle. From what I heard, the bus ride was an interesting trip in itself. Why I just “heard” about it we’ll get to in a second. Moonshine-filled flasks were ever present causing rowdy, silly behavior, and the back of the bus to eventually become a “little boys room.” It was like they were all preparing to see gladiators get ripped apart by Caesar’s tigers at the Coliseum. Somewhere in between buttloads of booze and buttloads of traffic, one of the many non-sober brothers decided to make a tin foil armor headpiece replica. The best part about it was that it was definitely premeditated and only needed alcohol to ignite the flame of genius. Because, honestly, who the fuck brings tin foil on a bus? It was eventually passed around and worn by someone throughout the show.

Now, why did I just hear about all of this? Because about an hour before the bus left, Blackcock, Redneck and I hopped into a borrowed 94’ white Honda Civic on our own little mission: Tailgating. In case you are wondering, this is not normal. This is not a Giants game; this is a make-believe tournament, with make-believe characters, in a make-believe 12th century fucking castle. It would have been more appropriate to tailgate at a goddamn pee-wee football scrimmage. However, we are scum, and this needed to happen. Sitting in the back seat I brought along my friend Blackhaus in a stainless steel flask, which Redneck and I shared. I was actually glad there was heavy traffic on route 80, because we had to pull over and take pictures of each other pissing on the highway.

BlackCock found his way to a familiar nearby liquor store, since we are from the area, and snagged a 24 of Bud Light. We pulled into an empty parking lot, poured the cans into our ice-filled cooler and started boozing hard. Redneck pulled some props from his bag of goodies as well: A fake troll beard and a plastic gothic chalice. Again, genius. I learned in 4th grade that 8 X 3 = 24, so we had some work to do, and only about 50 minutes to do it. As families, cub scouts, brownie troops, and birthday parties started arriving, they were welcomed by 3 assholes drinking loudly and blasting 80’s tunes from their car, one of whom was wearing a long fake beard and shotgunning a Bud Light. And just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, in rolls the bus, with 25 more screaming assholes hanging out the windows. We were joined by Satan and CookieMonster, who were also heavily intoxicated, for a quick beer. After pissing on our neighbor’s car we would enter the draw bridge ahead and prepare for an unforgettable journey back to the Dark Ages.

We were fully convinced that journey would only last 15 minutes by the way we were acting. It all started with the group picture. See when you enter the building, whatever group you came with, they take a cute picture of, which then could be later purchased. BlackCock, CookieMonster, Satan, and I thought it would be a good idea to take our shirts off, while Redneck kneeled in front, beard and all, holding his chalice high and proud. I mean c’mon, wasn’t rape cool back then? Surely they could take some ridiculously good-looking young chaps baring their God given gifts. The 16 year-old girl with braces taking the picture thought it was funny, so we were cool. We received our blue crowns which meant we were cheering for the Blue Knight for the tourney.

We got some more beers, messed around with some people, and then entered the glorious arena, and took our seats in the Blue section. Our group took up a good quarter of the seats; the rest was made up of kids. In fact there was definitely a birthday party going on in the row behind me. The show started and we were immediately rowdy, screaming and chanting like it was an Eagles playoff game. Someone definitely started a B-L-U-E BLUE BLUE BLUE chant. In the first 20 minutes, security had to come over a good 3 times, so we would calm down for about three minutes and sip more of our delicious brews. But it got to a point where a couple of us were standing up shouting various obscenities such as: “Fuck the King, you faggot”; “Fuck you blue knight, you fucking suck”; “I’m going to fucking throw up everywhere”; and the ever kid-friendly: “I have AIDS, I’m gay!” After the 3rd round of security intervention we thought we were toast, but the worst the Medieval Times staff did was cut us off from the beer train. Probably a good idea guys.

Some interesting events that happened after we were cut off: People started pissing in their seats under our row; kids started crying; there was a Skoal Mint dip spit war, which by the end, the main casualty had to be Satan; BlackCock, standing at the base of the Blue section, started leading everyone in more chants: “Give me a B!;” a fellow brother happened to wander off and jump into a closed gift stand and borrowed about 20 or so cups and other various goodies; we were warned by security again another handful of times, which eventually led to Satan being escorted out. But by that time the show was almost over, the Blue Knight lost in the tournament and lost our respect a long time ago, and we had just started to sober up a tad and realized where the hell we were. It was a glorious brotherhood trip, and I have told what I remember of it. I am sure there were some other events going on in different rows involving different brothers. What matters is that we were once again childish, immature, rude and most importantly fratastic. So round up your most loyal friends, crack open the shittiest of beer, strap on a fake beard and/or tin foil armor and head out to your local castle. Thee won’t beist sorry.

And for all of you looking to become a part of the show, please visit the website. An excerpt from the “careers” section:

Ever worked inside a Castle? Thought about wearing a costume to work? Or are you looking for an exciting employment opportunity in a fun and unique environment? If you answered "YES" to any of these questions, then employment with Medieval Times Dinner & Tournament, North America's favorite dinner attraction, may be "joust" what you're looking for!

EW. From my mind to yours, Donz.

Help Me Out

2007-03-02T12:49:00.000-05:00

My Mom could kick your ass; plain and simple. Stories of her pulling large black men out of their cars to curse them off because they bumped her car into the middle of an intersection in downtown Newark, NJ ...while she was pregnant... are true. Big Donna (yes that's really her name, minus the Big) was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis back in 2005. The funny thing is, she can still kick anyone's ass. She just kicked mine like 20 minutes ago. Anywho, every year they do these MS Walks, which we partake in. The National MS Society expects all participants to raise money that goes to research, so we can end this shitty disease which right now has no cure. Last year, my family sucked at raising money. This year I am trying to change that. I sent out an email to just about everyone that reads this worthless blog, but if you didn't get that email, check out this link:

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?px=2382367&pg=personal&fr_id=1791&et=A9rk7nai8LEGHUry2gonGg..&s_tafId=2476

I am just looking for tax-deductible donations right now to try and reach my family goal. I understand St. Patty's Day is coming up and I know you all are saving up to kill your livers. Kudos. But maybe, just maybe, you can find it in the goodness of your warm, so warm, hearts to not buy that case of Murphy's, Guinness, and dare I say Killians, and instead donate to Big Donna. I am especially asking all Italians out there to further the "va fanculo" to this Irish holiday and instead help a Guida Elder out.

Nah I am just playing, I will be celebrating along with my Irish friends. We have a lot to thank the Irish for: ummm this holiday, stew, making the Mediterranean folk's dicks look big, and fighting music... yea that's about it. I am going to get punched in the face.

So in conclusion, I will be walking on April 22, 2007 in honor of Big Donna. I ask for your support. If not, I will find out who you are and have my mom beat you with a wooden spoon. Check out the link above please. Thanks youz guyz.

From my mind to yours, Donz.

Post Script:

I am also playing around with Donzi's Basement T-shirt Ideas ...I will have a poll, that probably only two people will be a part of, but whatever, to find the best T-shirt idea. Here are a couple I have been playing with:

http://dyo.customink.com/cink/r.jsp?E=fadonz%40gmail.com&F=basement2

http://customink.com/cink/r.jsp?E=fadonz%40gmail.com&F=kickdbnavy

http://customink.com/cink/r.jsp?E=fadonz%40gmail.com&F=dbblk

http://customink.com/cink/r.jsp?E=fadonz%40gmail.com&F=dbbig

Hit up the comment section bitches.

Tales From The Frat: House of Pain

2007-02-19T15:25:00.000-05:00

I figured I’d start a little mini-series in Donzi’s Basement called Tales from the Frat. Why? Because in 4 years of college I easily went from being on “fist bumping terms” with the Big Man upstairs, to getting my ass prepared to take Satan’s spear up it. I have endless stories of what went on in our brothel we called a frat and I am here to share some with you. All names will be changed to protect our sorry identities from the real world. You know who you are.

Tales from the Frat: House of Pain

Of course the idea spawned from the master(bator) himself, codename: Mike Giunta. What a great idea it would be to have an inter-pledgeclass competition in our house, which would test the fratastic skills we all claimed to have. It would take guts, it would take stamina, and it would possibly take a trip to the hospital. What spawned from his sick little mind was a competition of Olympic size proportion, and hence House of Pain was born. Here’s how it went: 3 Pledge classes lived in the House: the Rhos, the Sigmas, and the Taus. I of course was on the heavily favored Sigmas. I forgot the exact rules so I talked to a fellow Sigma, Dr.Greenthumb, who was profoundly involved with the actual rule making. They were as follows:

Each class starts with:
1 x 24 Case of Natty/Beast Light
1 x 5.0 liter Bag-O wine
1 x Handle (2.75 liters) of Bankers Club vodka
1 pack (20x) of Marlboro Reds

(everything starts at room temperature)

-You can mix/dilute with anything but if you bring it to the table it must be finished as well
-All of the numbers are per 12 members eligible (not just who is man enough to show up)
-You uptreat/downtreat each one proportionally to the number of eligible members
(ex: 24 beers per 12 eligible members = 12 beers if only 6 are eligible)
-1 cigarette at a time, don’t have to inhale, but you need to smoke all of it
-If you throw up, you are out, but what you drank/puked up to that point counts
-First team to finish everything wins

There you have it. I know we have problems. We are alcoholics and unfortunately some of those that participated in this healthy event actually now have very successful jobs. Except me. We all took it to a different level when we actually dressed up in team uniforms. The Rho’s and Tau’s uni’s were nonsense, but we the Sigmas, clothed in Wife Beaters and Diapers certainly were champions even before the competition started. I personally think it gave us an edge. How? I am not sure. We all were talking shit to each other, but I knew the Sigmas had some big guns working for us. Dr. Greenthumb and BlackCock: masters of Cigarettes and Beer, Redneck and Thunder: Funnel extraordinaires, Me, Satan, CookieMonster, DavidStar: Vodka vultures, & Goatboy, Red-Man, The Crow, SBD, & GarySmith: Bag-o-Brawlers.

We were not really concerned about the younger Taus; Mike Giunta and his Rho’s would be the closest thing to a challenge. It was never a question if we were going to win or not, more, how much could we embarrass our opponents. We had a flawless alcohol distribution setup and a good amount of bottomless iron stomachs on our side, so when we heard the bell, it was go time. It only took about a minute until people from all sides were filling up the nearby trash bins with their recent consumptions. With heavy 80’s tunes blasting all around us, we were surrounded in a sea of vices, but persevered in an ocean of camaraderie. All Sigmas stepped up when our fellow man succumbed to his body’s cry for help. Non-smokers became smokers, the funnel became another appendage, and cups of vodka were devoured like glasses of water. It was a glorious sight to see. I believe it was close to 12 minutes when our last cigarette was smoked and last FK9 of vodka was passed around like a ceremonious trophy.

It was a good fight by all parties, and it was time to take it to yet another level as a house. What perused after was a series of events that should have landed many in the hospital. It started with table flipping, which got the whole floor soaked. We all realized we were violently drunk, and when there is a soaking wet floor, it only calls for … you guessed it, Beer Slides! One man, two man, group slides. It was like Crocodile Mile except your eyes burnt, there were two schmucks squeegeeing beer sludge back in the middle of the floor, and instead of a friendly bump at the end there was broken glass. It was out of control and there was no one that was going to stop it.

The drinking, sliding, singing and general shitfaced shenanigans continued somehow for a while. When all was said and done, to cap off the night, the Sigmas decided to piss their diapers as a sign of dominance. Or blacked-out-ness? This was just one simple night, in my 3 ½ years with The Frat. One simple idea that became one momentous event. I personally encourage all Frats across the land, to take a night off from the tang, and get fratastic. Man up and become champions. Conquer the House of Pain.

Retrojunk

2007-02-08T19:17:00.000-05:00

I used to contribute some articles here and there to another website. Since that website hasn't produced anything significant in the past 4 months, I'm taking them back ... I'm taking them all back. I wrote this particular article a couple months ago, but after making a long overdue pit stop back to Retrojunk.com, I decided to post it on my website. I hope I don't get sued.

I have grown to greatly dislike some things in my life. Many things, actually. But something that always drove me nuts was nasty cereal commercials. You know the ones I am talking about. The old school ones where there is either kids debating and crunching on one Kix at a time, or some old guy in the background of a farm scene talking about grain, barley, & corn trying to sound all wholesome and rustic. Asshole. Or spoons diving into a full bowl of waiting Rice Krispies, people smiling saying “mmmmm”, that “part of a complete breakfast” bullshit line they’d throw in there, as they show the cereal in the midst of a breakfast orgy. Who the fuck eats a big bowl of cornflakes covered in blueberries, half a grapefruit, pancakes stacked 5 high, douched in maple syrup and butter, Belgium waffles with powdered sugar, toast, and has a big glass of OJ to wash it all down. This isn't Pleasantville, it's Fat tits America.

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, an esteemed colleague of mine, Ryan, introduced me to one of the greatest websites I now visit: www.retrojunk.com. Just take a gander and you’ll understand. And seeing some of the 80’s and 90’s cereal commercials really started to grind my groin all over again. It also got me thinking: wear did all these old school honey and sugar packed cereal commercials go? I still watch some TV, but when is the last time someone caught an Apple Jacks commercial? I’ve seen Kashi, but I haven’t seen the Honey Smacks hip green frog in a while (shortened to Smacks in the 90’s). I still see the Honey Nut Cheerios bee buzzing around, but what happened to Sugar Bear’s Golden Crisps in that beautiful gold box it used to come in? Remember Cookie Crisps? I sure as hell haven’t seen that crazy criminal and his dog looking for them lately.

Yes that’s right, families used to give their kids milk and miniature cookies for a “complete breakfast” with “8 vitamins and minerals.” I think cookies were in the mineral category in the 80’s and 90’s, and I am pretty sure I remember a Vitamin Ch(ocolate). I might have to double check with Count Chocula on that one. Maybe they stopped advertising these nutritious sugar packed nightmares because every other child has ADHD now? Nahhh.

In closing, I loathe old school and some new school cereal commercials, and I am bewildered where some of our lovable characters that encouraged us to rot our teeth went. I think we can all agree, though, that it's time to give the Silly Rabbit and the Lucky Charms Leprechaun some of their own fuckin cereal already, before they go postal on those politically correct cartoon kids.

Here’s some exciting links:

Berry Berry Kix: http://www.retrojunk.com/details_commercial/1068/ (I hate kids)

Kix: http://www.retrojunk.com/details_commercial/218/ (kids plus old bastard in the background)

Teddy Bears Cereal http://www.retrojunk.com/details_commercial/1707/ (wow forgot about these guys)

Corn Pops http://www.retrojunk.com/details_commercial/1306/ (this whole thing sucks)

Mueslix? : http://www.retrojunk.com/details_commercial/675/ (that old bastard I was talking about)

Fruity and CoCoa Pebbles http://www.retrojunk.com/details_commercial/26/ (old school)

Honey Combs http://www.retrojunk.com/details_commercial/150/ (jesus)

There are some other great links that must be checked out. He-Man and She-Ra talking about your naughty area is classic.

http://retrojunk.com/details_commercial/3336/

Don't Do Crack ... but Masterbating in a Movie Theater is Fine

http://retrojunk.com/details_commercial/2826/

Just Let Your Sooouuuullll Gloooooowwwww

http://retrojunk.com/details_commercial/2042/

Definitely John Micheal Higgins, from Christopher Guest and other movies

http://retrojunk.com/details_commercial/2410/

Full House definitely stole this

http://retrojunk.com/details_commercial/77/

From my mind to yours, Donz

Follow Up

2007-02-05T15:47:00.000-05:00

Good to see other people are on board for Global Warming awareness. Check out Ryan's blog at Tales From a Cardboard Fort: http://talesfromacardboardfort.blogspot.com/ where he has a link to a free video of An Inconvenient Truth. He apparently commented the link onto my original "Inconvenient Truth" entry, however, in a drunken stupor I must have erased it. 1.) I didn't even know people commented on my blog, and B.) I don't know how to erase comments even if they did. I guess when I am cocked, everything just works out. Also a solid link to show how much we suck as a environmentally aware country, sent to me via Gmail Chat by Ryan, is http://www.boston.com/news/world/europe/articles/2007/02/04/45_nations_in_warming_pact/ .

Unfortunately our country's law makers are old people, who could give a shit about our future. So they make excuses why we are not part of any Global Warming committees throughout the world.

OK, no more preaching. I will soon be selling hemp skirts and necklaces and Save the Polar Bears T-Shirts, and donating all the money to my gambling problem.

From my mind to yours, Donz.

This is the true story of...

2007-02-01T15:26:00.000-05:00

I can't be the only one to notice the quirky names of the people selected to be on Reality TV. It seems to be a prerequisite for production to pick at least 3 people with some, dare I say, far-out names. I might be so inclined to start a conspiracy theory that all Reality TV "stars" are the offspring of various Flower Children from the same Communal Hippie Farm in the woods of Vermont. They thought they would get back at The Man by banging anyone they could in the community, giving their kids asinine names, discarding the inbreds and making them slaves, and raising the "good ones" to pursue a life in front of something called Television, which is not allowed on their Hippie Havens. They would also feed them pixie sticks with every lunch and Nerds at every dinner, provide funny mushrooms every month, beat them for no reason, read them poetry, and a select few would be molested, for an extra mental tsunami. That's just my feeling anyway. Another theory: If you have a fucked up name, most likely, you're fucked up. There are a ridiculous amount of Reality Television programs on today, I am only going to look at a couple.

The Real World was really the beginning of Reality TV. I comprised a nice list of some names I thought were a little out there. I wasn't really surprised with some of the brotha's and sista's names, but some of these white kid's names are wacky tabaccy. So here are some Real World cast member's names that appeared over the years:

Normand, Mohammad, Judd, Jacinda, Lars, Montana*, Genesis*, Elka*, Syrus*, Kameelah*, Amaya, Kaia, Teck, Aneesa, Theo, Trichelle, Irulan, Alton, Arissa, Ace, Frankie (chick), Cameran, Jacquese, Shavonda, Karamo, Landon, Wes, Johanna, Nehemiah, Melinda, Paula, Svetlana, Colie, Brooke, Davis, Tyrie...

Don't forget about Road Rules! Granted some people, again, are not just WASPs, with a couple being from overseas. But still, c'mon:

Effie, Los, Kit, Belou, Noah, Kalle, Roni, Chadwick, Kefla, Piggy, Holly, Abe, Ayanna*, Pawel*, Pua*, Yes (Yes? seriously?)*, Latherrian, Msaada, Blair, Jisela, Kendal, Abram, Cara, Donnell, Ibis, Kina, Diem, Chandla, Aviv, Linette

*Same season

I never watched Survivor, but after some research (Wikipedia is sick), some of these names are out of control:

Colby, Tina, Vecepia, Neleh, Clay, Sandra, Lillian, Amber, Rupert, Twila, Ethan, Lex, Shii, Yul, Aras (If you pronounce the last couple of names with a drunken Irish accent, it sounds like: Ethan, Let's Shave Your Ass)

I am not going to even tap into Big Brother, America's Next Top Model, and other crap shows that we waste our lives watching. Damn marathons. However, I recently finished watching a way over-produced, almost fake, season of Bravo's Top Chef. Sam should have won. All that watched, know what I am talking about. Anywho, I figured to throw out some sweet Top Chef names over the past two seasons:

Suyai, Otto, Mia, Elia, Marcel, Ilan, Harold, Tiffani, Miguel, Candice

Again, this Blog is obviously useless, as is this article. However, I am confident that this issue has crossed your mind at least once. Shit, I thought I was getting on The Real World just because there hadn't been a Don on yet! That and my extensive collection of emotional baggage that I carry with me. I made it a couple of rounds, but they stopped calling me. Oh, well.

From my mind to yours, Donz.

Matt Foley

2007-01-25T14:13:00.000-05:00

I found myself sitting in the middle of 30,000 people listening to someone try to motivate me to be a better salesman, an entrepreneur, a go getter, how to shoot for the top, & be #1. I looked around and watched everyone nodding & smiling, high-fiving eachother in their heads, "getting it," ready to attack life's problems. I looked around and felt God smack me in the face. Teenage Jesus told me to wake up.

Have you ever been in the presence of a motivational speaker. Well, a lot of what they have to say has good meaning, and you know sometimes we need a little pep talk in our lives. I always thought that if you needed motivation to do your job, then you're in the wrong career. Sure there are days we just don't feel like working. I haven't worked for 15 years; shit, I'm still kickin. That's what pick-me-ups are for. But in the last 6 months, in one way or another, I have found myself being in the audience of a motivational speaker at least 4 times. I have even been in the presence of the great Zig Ziglar, the most famous motivational speaker of them all. A brilliant orator, with a lot of good inspiring messages to share with us. He looks like and has the energy of the Juiceman and talks like Ted Turner and President Bush on speed. He sounds like the offspring of an oil tycoon and an evangelist. I am sure it is much better to just read what Zig has to say, unless you love to escape into his Southern Gangbang of Words, which is just treated like a New Years resolution anyway. I had a "Garden State" moment where I was in slow motion watching all these people around me, except I wasn't tripping on ether or ecstasy. I wondered what the blow I was doing there, in the presence of all these lost souls and a cult leader. Tens of thousands cramped in an arena, flipping through their help notebooks, listening to this guy from Texas tell them how to "be the best." It was sad. I was sad.

Fuck motivational speakers. Fuck people making money by selling me "A Road Map to Financial Success," "10 Steps to Be a Better Man," "20,501 Ways to Live Stress Free and Be Mentally Healthy, Because You're a Fat Slob with No Goals and Need to Get Up Off Your Ass, Put Down the Chicken Wings, and Get a Job...a Real Job." I also was addicted to some self help books for a while. Fuck those too. Now, I only limit myself to reading autobiographies of successful people, anything the Dali Lama writes, anything by George Carlin, the Book of Revelations, and any Kama Sutra/sex tip book. Believe me, I need it. I haven't been with a women since 1987, her name was Georgina, and she had a deep voice.

You need a real pep talk? Here it is, a free Pick-Me-Up from Donzi:

1.) You're life isn't as bad as someone else is, like me. There's definitely a kid in Africa, whose parents both died an ugly death from AIDS, and is starving right now, with flies and shit on his face. You could sound like Gilbert Godfrey. You could be Gilbert Godfrey. Imagine O.J.'s kids? What about Lindsey Lohan's vagina? Wait, umm? You could be married to a paperboy. Shit people, look around, there's definitely someone worse off.

2.) Kill something. Anything. An ant, a bird, your aunt, whatever. If you feel even a little sorry that you just killed a living thing, you're going to be OK. You have some compassion in you. That's normal and you will eventually be rewarded. Plus, they're dead and you aren't. You're the lucky one. So get the fuck out there and kill something.

3.) Unless you are doing something that you love, stop. Are you afraid? You're a bitch. Suck it up, pull out your wedgie, fuck everyone else, and go get what you want. It doesn't pay well, so what. Steal if you must. You're dying slowly, second by second, so try and live while you can, pussy.

4.) This is crucial. In my eyes, you must do these steps to truly be a happy person.
-First, sing in the shower as loud as you can. This is the best you'll ever sound.
-Sing as loud as you can, when you are stuck in traffic. Don't worry if people look at you weird, they're weird for not singing.
-High-five strangers on the street
-People Watch
-Cross-Dress at least once and sing a Supremes (male) or Temptations (female) song in front of the mirror
-Fart in an elevator. Admit it.
-Shit your pants at a supermarket.
-Wear a Halloween costume on Easter, Passover, or Ramadan.
-Talk to yourself in public. Even better, slap yourself once.
-Lots of sex, with a lot of different people, in a lot of different positions.
-And last but not least, dial a random number & try to have a 5 minute conversation with a stranger. Challenge yourself and stick to only starting each sentence with "You."

So in conclusion, my life sucks worse than yours, but I don't need some coked up wacko showing me the yellow-brick road to happiness. So, get out there, get wacky, and get what you want. Want internal bliss? Well it's going to happen either tomorrow or never. Cheer up Charlie, and deal with it. I'm going to go take a nap, and maybe wake up tomorrow.

From my mind to yours, Donz.

TRUMP

2007-01-16T16:26:00.000-05:00

I love Donald Trump. I really don't care about his personal life, I mainly respect him for his real estate and branding skills. Although he does bag some hot broads. Some of the greatest comedy in life happens to be when people are not trying to be funny at all. For example, seeing someone fall down some stairs with hot coffee or a baby in their hands. Or trip in the middle of the library with a stack of papers, with hairy erect penises drawn on them, as I do. What Donald Trump said about Rosie O'Donnell, was not only true, but down right hilarious. He wasn't trying to be funny; it was just delivered it in such a no nonsense way, that I was laughing quite hard. I receive emails from one of Donald's companies, Trump University. Within it, he writes a weekly blog or two and people get to comment. Obviously he talked about the Rosie issue and did not hold back. It was by far the most comments I've ever seen for one of his blogs. Some were like: "yea you tell that bitch to shut her trap" and "Mr. Trump you are my hero." However there were a good amount of people that took offense to his fat comments, as if he singled out the names of all the fat pigs in the world. And the fatties said that they were "not going to watch his new season of the Apprentice!" So take that Trump! YEA! So many nobodies trying to tell a billionaire how to run his life. A lot of them were just so great to me, that it inspired me to write my first comment on Trump's blog. I nicknamed myself Warren, because commenting on blogs is one of the only fair game times to change the name your parents bestowed upon you. The others are picking up women, or pleading insanity in court. Here is my entry:

Comment: Yet another excuse for fat people all over the country to take offense and blame their weight on somebody else. The truth is Rosie opened her mouth first. She is a monkey on that show; they feed her and she spits out garbage. The man has every right to defend himself, and he can go as far as he wants, period. To all the fat people out there, stop watching re-runs of their arguments on TV, put down your 3rd helping of Lean Cuisine, and get some exercise. He directed his truthful fat comments at her, not at you. If you take offense to that, kill two birds with one stone: walk it off. You have every right to ban The Apprentice, but it won't stop Mr. Trump from building luxury condos on your property in the near future. Donald, cheers to you sir. Way to stand up for yourself. It's good to see that America, the obese, malnourished, materialistic, severely in debt society that we are, hasn't lost it's total edge.

Don't worry Trump, I've got your back. Now I can go back and dream about going to a Lakers game with you, Jack, and Regis.

From my mind to yours, Donz.

An Inconvenient Truth

2007-01-15T23:36:00.000-05:00

Now I have to put some humor aside for a second. I never in my life thought I would be saying this, but, it should be everybodies duty to go see the Al Gore flick, An Inconvenient Truth. I know, Al Gore... in a movie. It would probably be cooler to just watch Mickey Rooney eat tapioca pudding, right? Wrong. I have to tell you, Al Gore does a great job relaying a straight forward, no bullshit, factual message on Global Warming. The film was very informative, very educational, and scared the crap out of me. This was not for political gain by any means. Mr Gore has been attacking this issue ever since he left college and got into Congress. Unfortunately it has fallen on deaf ears. Well, with the 10 highest temperatures ever recorded in the U.S., since the Civil War, falling in these last 12 years, are you ready to listen?

Believe me, I am no hippie tree hugger by any means. I don't have a "nature protector" name like Wind Whisperer, Grasshopper, or Moonleaf. No, no hemp or save the whales posters; never donated to Sally Struthers or tied myself to a redwood. Here's my logic: I love women. I like to have sex with women. Women think polar bears are cute. Because of Global Warming, the Polar Bear population should be extinct in the next 10 years if we don't get our act together. Dead polar bears = dead female libido. No sex for Donz. Also, no planet, no sex for anyone. No planet, no laughter. However, Global Warming would stop all wars and terrorism.

All kidding aside, I feel it is my duty as a human, even if I do have some toys in the attic, to spread the message of this movie. I would also encourage you to visit this website:

http://www.climatecrisis.net/

Just check it out. It has many actions we can take and many things we can do right now to help stop CO2 emissions. It is amazing how much of an impact each one of us can have on the environment by just doing some simple things. Al Gore, Donz salutes you.

From my mind to yours, Donz.

2007-01-10T17:32:00.000-05:00

There's something I've been playing around with in my head for a couple of years now and I finally have seen enough evidence to come to this conclusion: Girls that wear fish net stockings on any occasion are on the prowl for cock.

That's all for today...here's a nice quote from my uncle George Carlin:

Isn't it interesting that only sex and excretion can be found legally obscene in this country? Not violence, not neglect, not abuse of humans. Only shitting and fucking; two of nature's most necessary functions and irresistible forces. We're always trying to control and thwart nature, even in our own language. Fuck that shit!

From my mind to yours, Donz

Donzi's Basement Introduction

2007-01-08T20:26:00.000-05:00

Hey, I'm Donz. I live somewhere in NYC, in the basement of an abandoned Roy Rogers that they have now converted into an Asian Massage parlor. Contrary to popular belief, I am not an investment banker. I own a fish named Karl, 2 pairs of slacks, and a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt. My apartment looks similar to Rocky Balboa's from the first Rocky, except he had running water. My TV is a Zenith and gets 4 channels. I steal electricity from Ray's Pizza (the original) next door, and I haven't figured out where my heat comes from. I'm just going to empty my brain with valuable or useless information and it's going to be up to you to decipher. I carry a small red pad in my front pocket and write down my daily thoughts, pictures of naked people bowling, and plans on how to open up my own roller rink. I enjoy feedback and don't mind criticism. I've been beaten with a shoe, wooden spoon, guitar strap, and 2x4 all at the same time, so criticism will be cake. I hope you enjoy what's in my head. Hey, I'm Donz.

The Safety Calendar

2007-01-05T15:41:00.000-05:00

My friend works for a good company... where they actually pay you. There was a contest to submit pictures for a safety calendar they were putting together. The catch? Well it was for co-worker's children to submit. So all these people's proud and talented sons and daughters were going to draw cute little pictures and hope theirs was one of the 12 selected. So my friend got a genius idea to submit his own pictures anonymously...with a little help from some of his buddies. I thought I'd share some of them, including mine. I have to warn you, we are not normal.

Mine: Look Both Ways!

The rest:

TIMBER!

Watch Out For Sharp Corners!

Don't Piss Carrots Off!

HOLD THE RAILING!

DON'T SHIT WHERE YOU SLEEP! (PG version)

WATCH OUT FOR THOSE CHEETAHS!

From my mind to yours, Donz

Role Models

2007-01-03T18:54:00.000-05:00

Is it me or are all the positive roll models for little girls now-a-days some influential black women? You've got Oprah, who pisses excellence and shits out one-hundred dollar bills, Dr. Maya Angelou, a modern day Renaissance women, who could probably move Bin Laden to tears with her mastery of contemporary literature, and Dr. Condoleezza Rice, our Secretary of State. However most of these women don't grace the front cover of US magazine, unless Oprah looks like a blimp again. Who do young women really look up to? Whoever is on the news, living like a princess, and popping out kids like an abortion clinic.

Brittany Spears. God forbid the Almighty graces me with a girl someday. To know she has the potential to turn out like this thing. To know that little ones still look up to her as well. Jesus. She has worse manners than a baboon, marries a degenerate back-up dancer and pops out two innocent infants, let's one drive her car, flails her nasty cooch all over, and talks like a southern call girl. Her liver probably looks like her cooter and I am pretty sure Snoopy sings better than her. It's just sad that this sloppy mess was ever a role model. Take care of your kids and stop sitting on cock. Take a year or five off.

And who did the Queen of Slop become BFF with (for a weekend in Vegas)...

Paris Hilton. She has the IQ of my left testicle. His name is Walnut. She was made famous for what? Politics? Christ no. Invented something? Besides a culture of young, whore bitches, no. Made a contribution to society? Pulitzer or Nobel Prize winner? I need to stop, because I just tossed cookies all over my keyboard. She's famous because her family worked harder than she'll ever comprehend; because she is rich. It's cool to hump people and have it circulate on the Internet. It's cool to act like an uneducated priss, who raided the wardrobe of RENT, and made up the ever lasting, sophisticated quote: "That's hot." Not to mention we've seen her mosquito bites and ass numerous times. Well done mom and dad. I like Marriots anyway.

What about her ex-we made up for 2 days-but had a fallnig out again-now recently talking to each other BFF and camera mate Nicole Richie. Showing Americas youth that it's OK to weigh 79lbs and have your bohemian bathing suite and bug-eyed sunglasses falling off your yellow tinted body. Add DUI's, weed, and cocaine into the mix and you've got a quality role model. Let's keep talking about all these "famous" young women. I'm pretty sure if Studio 54 was still around, this girl would be dead.

Lindsey Lohan. Quality. How old is this chick? She's already in AA? Let's see how long that lasts. At least she is a decent actress, right? Her co-stars and studio management like her, right? However she is really proud that she dresses herself everyday. Wow, no stylist! I still need my stylist to dress me in my pajamas; I don't know how she does it.

Little Kim just got out of jail! Yayyyy!

Listen, I think there are plenty of role models out there for our young guys and gals. It's just that we're really creating a generation that obsesses about being filthy rich, with absolutely no plan, or any dedication and hard work to get to that want. Heck, I'm probably one of them. I don't necessarily think that you need to have money to be a role model or be in a position of power to be a role model. I just think you need to work with what you have to create something positive in this ass backwards world that we live in. We have to stop focusing on these young disasters and start focusing on... umm...your mom... if she's a role model that is. But do we really need role models in today's world?

"If this country is dependent on things like role models, we're much worse off than I thought. Shit! If you're kid needs a role model and you ain't it, you're both fucked."

-George Carlin

So why write on this particular issue? Because I am a little girl trapped in a 6-4, 224 pound, dent resistant, hairy body. From my mind to yours, Donz.

People Watching

2007-01-02T16:03:00.000-05:00

Borderline Creepy. Yes I know, people watching could be considered a bit out there on the "ate paint chips as a toddler" side, but I assure you that it's a great way to tap into your creative juices. Listen, as long as you are not continuously watching the same person day in and day out (I think that's called stalking; ask your ex's lawyer) you are free to watch who you want. Are you feeling dull and claustrophobic? Feel like you're stuck in a rut? Ever wonder what happened to the TV show "The Nine" & why the Sopranos has sucked for the past 3 seasons? Well I feel you on the last two. But if you are just looking to get away from things by yourself here's a random suggestion. Throw on some comfortable clothes, take out your Ipod, and head down to the park, lake, beach, etc. Wherever there seems to be people and is a relaxed setting.

Find a bench, a spot under a tree, or a blanket in the sand and throw on the random song select of your music device. Press play and watch. Watch the sexy young woman walking her dog, or the fat guy with mustard on his guinea T slapping his chubby son on the back of the head. Watch the happily married old couple shuffle at 0.03 mph, holding hands and hoping to make it back before dark, or the middle aged couple being dragged by there 5 year old twins on a leash. Watch the hippies play with their hemp frisbee and the little Asian boy fly his kite. Watch the black kids practice there Step routines and the little white kids scream and throw tantrums at their parents. Listen to your favorite songs and you'll automatically make up stories about everyone you see. I swear if watching life to good tunes doesn't cheer you up, or at least make you feel a little bit better about yourself, seek help, you might be the next Unibomber.

There are levels to people watching as well. Soon you will create a specific playlist on your Ipod and customize your favorite people watching songs, such as "No Rain" from Blind Mellon. You will explore outside the realm of public recreational settings and move into Walmarts and Targets. This would be the intermediate level.

Truly advanced people watchers have been known to set up shop on the floor of the stock exchange, the post office, and waiting rooms outside the ER, listening to the likes of In Flames, Metallica, and the soundtrack to Platoon. I do not recommend this to beginners. This takes chameleon like skill and true depression.

Useless places to watch people: The library, Shop Rite, and Outback Steakhouse. There are also places that I would steer clear from people watching such as: public bathrooms, Chuck-E-Cheese's, court rooms, prisons, West Virginia, & funerals. Also make sure you are not focusing on your ex-wife, her new husband, and the kids that picked on you in high school. That's just creepy, and once again, you could wind up killing a lot of people one day, so check yourself into some place. Preferably in Arizona or Cuba.

But if you want to laugh at life, get away from things, spark your creativity, I suggest you try people watching. For a really good and unpredictable time, throw some funny mushrooms into the mix. Listen & create your own stories, just don't take pictures of us and touch yourself to them later.

From my mind to yours, Donz.