The best day of the year

As a lot of people know, there's a day of great importance coming up this week. It is a day that brings people together, a day on which we are encouraged to express our feelings towards one another. Gifts are exchanged often, and, in theory, one leaves the day with a cliched warm and fuzzy feeling inside.

I am talking, of course, about February 15th, otherwise known as "Joe G.'s Birthday".

Now I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, 'Joe! I can't believe I completely forgot your birthday!' It's okay, really. Happens all the time. In fact, the majority of people that I encounter on that day probably won't even acknowledge my existence, much less that it's my birthday and that they should be nice to me for no other reason than that happens to be the day that, 23 years ago, I popped out of my mother's womb. It's a fact that I have, over the course of my 22 previous birthdays, come to accept: no one really cares that much.

Could it be that the placement of my birthday, on the day after the accursed St. Valentine's Day, is what causes this total lack of interest in my happiness? Valentine's Day is a taxing affair, requiring a lot of attention and thought, at least for those who either a) have someone to celebrate it with or b) decide that they want to find someone just as desperate as they are to spend it with. A lot of sweat goes into planning a successful Valentine's Day - just ask the people at Hallmark. As a result of this hard work, I can understand why people would be less than enthusiastic about yet another national holiday not even twenty-four hours later. It's draining to be that happy for that long.

I have always taken this into account, of course, and have, as such, never taken part in Valentine's Day festivities with anyone. I have to save my energy for the following day, and, really, what's more important: a celebration of my love for someone else, or a celebration of my very life? It's clearly the latter. Because, honestly, every other day of the year should be a celebration of the former, albeit on a smaller scale, but still. I do not disparage the sentiment behind Valentine's Day; I'd just rather it fell somewhere else in the year. Perhaps in June. Nothing ever happens in June.

In fact, I feel that moving Valentine's Day to June would clear up a lot of the 'holiday clumping' that occurs throughout the year. Most major holidays appear around the ends of the year, with Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, and Valentine's Day all falling within consecutive months. That's quite a bit of money to be spent in a five month span. Moving Valentine's Day to June would alleviate some of the burden on consumers' wallets, and allow people more time to think of bigger and better ways of expressing their affection for a loved one. (On second thought, maybe that's not such a good idea.) The money saved by consumers could then be put to better use - supporting charities, paying off debts, and funding the appropriate worldwide celebration of February 15th.

So I say, this year, on February 14th, do not celebrate Valentine's Day. Instead, celebrate Joe G.'s Birthday Eve. At the stroke of midnight, instead of turning to the person that you love and kissing them passionately, turn to me, and think of all the money that I saved you from buying flowers and candy and cards and singing telegrams and jewelry and hookers and dinner and movie tickets and condoms. And then give that money to me.

It is my birthday, after all.

I have a blog?

So a few things occured to me this morning.

1. I have neglected this thing. I realize that, when I set it up, I set it up as something that I wouldn't expect myself to post on every day, but it's been a little while since my last entry, and I feel bad about that. I know there's a few of you out there that like (nay, CRAVE) my blog, and I will try, in the future, to be more accomodating. Still no promises though.

2. My blog has lost its way. I set this up as a place where I could just write random stuff without having to worry about a context for it. (When I say 'random stuff,' of course, I don't mean 'mundane details about my life' or 'whinings about how girl-I-like doesn't like me'. Just so we're clear on that one.) It occurs to me that I've only ever really done this twice, and those are the posts that I'm most interested in personally. This, then, is my new mission statement: I need to harness my inner Sedaris (more the writer part, less the gay part) as I have done in the past, and I need to reconnect with what makes writing fun for me. That's what this blog is for, and that's what I intend to use it for from now on. This is not to say that I will cease with the posting of fun and humorous links - I love that stuff as much as the next guy - but that's not the main purpose anymore, just a side thing for when I'm bored. But really, when I'm bored, shouldn't I then be writing?

3. Chili cheese fries before bed = strange, strange dreams.

Having recently graduated from college, I am currently in the midst of a massive job hunt that spans both time and space. As such, my posting may still be few and far between. However, I will do my best to bring this blog back to where I wanted it to be when I started it. If anyone has any objections, you know where to find me.

That's all.

An open letter, in the Marowitz style.

To all the people who know me or see my apartment and think it's funny to tell me, "Joe, you're like the 40-year-old Virgin!",

Go fuck yourselves.

Sincerely,
Joe Grunenwald

Some phrases you should learn.

I hate people that butcher the English language. Admittedly, I probably notice it more than most people, being both an English major and a snob (And if you say they're the same thing...okay, fair point), but honestly, some of these things just aren't hard.

From Newsarama (abridged, so as to get to the point): "If you thought Newsarama’s series [...] ended [...], well, you got another thing coming... Another few things, actually."

Let's follow that sentence logically, shall we? If you thought...and you were wrong...that means you have another THINK coming. Not another THING. ANOTHER THINK. With a 'k'. THINK.

While we're at it, let's go over a few things.

"I could care less" means you still care a little. "I COULDN'T care less" means you don't care at all.
"A lot" is two words. "Alot" is not a word.
"'And remember, it's a dog EAT dog world out there; not a doggie dog one.'" - Casey McCall, SPORTS NIGHT

Everyone needs to learn how to speak correctly before I end up beating them senseless with a tire iron.

That's all.

Feed a family of twelve on Christmas day!

Just buy them a King Kong-sized Whopper from Burger King!

Ladies and gentleman, I am a tall man, a large man. I have a big head. I would not want to even think about trying to eat something as large as, or larger than, my own head. Knowing how large a regular Whopper is, I'm guessing that the Kong-sized Whopper is larger than my head.

And that is just scary.

With big, pointy teeth.

In Soviet Union, squirrel eats dog!

It's only a matter of time before they rise up here. We must plant more pine cone-bearing trees if we are to survive the coming onslaught.

Thanks to Amelia for this one.

Which superhero are you?

I never take these quiz things, but I had to do this one.

Your results:
You are Superman

Superman 80% Spider-Man 75% Green Lantern 55% Hulk 55% Robin 49% Supergirl 45% Batman 45% The Flash 40% Catwoman 40% Iron Man 40% Wonder Woman 35%

You are mild-mannered, good, strong and you love to help others.

Click here to take the "Which Superhero are you?" quiz...