Will Blog For Wine

Alternatively titled "Man Whore for a Good Pinot Noir"

Name: Drew

I'm a swell guy.

Thursday, May 26, 2005

Hot or Not

Another gem from the b-school listserv:

Since I'm just a caveman and have never owned one of these "laptop" dealies...does anyone (current/former students in particular) have a suggestion as to what kind of bag to carry? In order to look "cool," I would prefer to use just a backpack for both computer and books. I'm afraid that if I haul around 1 pack for books and another bag with computer, I will be considered a "grad school dork" by all the undergrads. Is this 1-bag trick a reasonable expectation, or should I resign myself to lugging around 2 bags (thereby losing the admiration of all the undergrads [sniff])?

Good god, what a princess! Given I drop my laptop about as often as Paris Hilton drops her drawers, I was more concerned with finding something that might have padding inside, as opposed to wondering if I was going to make the cut for Grad School: Hot or Not? Luckily for me, someone sent their IBM emploee ID around and I picked up a backpack they recommended for $48. Yeah, I'm boring.

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Jackass of the Year Award

This year's recipient is Nathaniel Clevenger of Three Public. I have had the misfortune of working with Than on numerous occasions and the politest thing I can say based on my experiences with him is that he is profoundly lacking in professional ethics. I could go on for hours, but he'd probably call his lawyers and threaten to sue me; the guy is angrier than a three-legged pit bull with a rubber band tied around his sack. So, it brings me overwhelming joy to see him getting plastered in the news and on blogs across the country. Here's the story.

Than's PR agency was working with a Portland Development Commissioner on an exploratory committee to see if he could successfully run for office. Than's PR agency was working with a huge developer (Opus) on a major development in Portland. Than also had worked on behalf of the PDC itself in the past. So, Than's client wins a huge contract from Than's client, of whom Than's client is a member. While, I admit it smells funny, (and MSN, the Oregonian, Portland Tribune, etc. have all reported on it), I really can't believe that the commissioner involved (Matt Hennessee) would have done anything unethical. The guy is a solid, stand-up individual who has nothing but good intentions, and it is unfortunate that he got caught up in a situation that looks a lot worse than it surely is. Also, if I was Than, I'd probably be irritated that at least one of my clients was getting plastered because of my relationships, especially when he probably didn't do anything wrong to begin with. That's the background.

In a city like Portland, there are a handful of people that scurry around and turn every leaf over, hoping to find a pile of excrement that they can jump up and down and scream about. Well, one of them (a blogger) managed to turn over said leaf and find Than and confront him about the situation. After some jawing back and forth with the guy, Than appears to have either:
a) fallen down the stairs and landed head-first in front of his laptop
b) been mugged and left for dead at a keyboard in an internet cafe
c) had way to much to drink and was guilty of TWI (typing while intoxicated)
d) been abducted by aliens, who replaced his brain with bag of stale Cheetohs
e) all of the above
because Than had a complete meltdown and emailed the following message to the blogger, which I lift verbatim from the Portland Communique.

How many people did you employ? Or, did paying an intern to help your rumor-mongering business not factor in your parents monthly support of your hobby? But enough of this childishness, how about you and me in a public debate. You bring your slander and innuendos. I'll bring a group of friends and some chips 'cause I know you can’t really afford to buy snacks on your parent’s allowance. Oh, but you’ll have to crawl out from under that rock you live under to do it. Name the place, I'll bring my friends, you bring yours (if you have any). I'd like to see you address me in public the way you do in your site - you sissy. I'd say more, but am sure you'll print every word I write and I recognize children may be reading this. I know infants are. If you don’t set a date, I'll find you at Stumptown and we can make a big show of it. Game?
For anyone else on the planet that doesn't WORK IN PUBLIC RELATIONS, this might be funny. For someone who has makes his living on being politically savvy and playing connect the dots with power players, it's downright insane. There are some other great quotes from the email ("If I seemed flip flop, I am sorry for that. Human error. You do know what that is or is your capacity for human empathy completely gone? Perhaps a lack of real human contact? " is one of my favorites. Maybe Kerry should have used that), but I'm not going to recreate the wheel here. Suffice it to say, Than had a nuclear meltdown and someone finally beat him up like an East San Jose Dollar Store pinata. End of story. Errr, oops. No.

In a stroke of sheer PR genius, Than decides to attack the guy in the comments section of his thread. At this point, I'm falling out of the chair laughing. You've got a fairly high-powered PR guy trying to beat up a blogger, on his own blog. Hello! If you think Charlton Heston is a douschebag, you don't scream it from the rafters at a gun show. So, here's Jackass of the Year, hard at work in the comments section (cue whistling from "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly"):

OK, Bix. I'll bite. So clever with words. But, the challenge to publicly debate remains. I've read your site. You have a lot of the same folks in here. Some make sense. Some don't. So, in a nod to a John Ford plot line, I say we do this in person.

Let's see how articulate you are face-to-face. It's not a challenge to a duel, Bix. So, you want need to bulk up at the gym. You frankly sound a little paranoid. But, I think all of us are a little tired of webloggers who sling half-assed arguments while hiding behind a key board. I'm sick of advising clients to ignore people like you. Weblogs have got to stop hiding behind the first amendment when they feel it convenient.

Also, Your diatribe here is full of holes, mistakes, ridiculous fantasies (although, I do admire your creativity) and other specious claims. Some people are getting a little tired of your arrogant rantings, Bix. You don't do face-to-face, because that would mean you have actually have to speak with real live people. Where's your guts, man? Take all this clever angst you have and turn it into a real debate; one you can be proud of!

I have nothing to hide. So, let's make a date. It'll be for a good cause.

Again, this a guy that people pay lots and lots and lots of money to advise them on corporate and political communications. Response #4 in the line up comes from Portland Commissioner Randy Leonard, who appears to take offense from the "webloggers who sling half-assed arguments while hiding behind a keyboard line," given blogging is a hobby of his Oops. Than, it appears that other people read this blog, too. At this point, I've gone from a laughing fit to crying hysterically. As the bloggers rip Than's lifeless carcass to shreds, throwing body parts to the wind like a pack of famished hyenas, a lone defender rushes to his rescue. Again, read the whole thread above for the details. Than's valiant hero attacks said blogger and tries to bury the story. So the blogger, like anyone else in a similar situation would do, pulls the IP logs for his site and does some background searching (yes, I can do this to you, too). Surprise! It's one of Than's other clients, who happens to me married to one of the Three Public principals. After being outed, Than's knight in shining armor immediately posts a "we have had no official relationship with Than since January" response. The threads go on and on and on, and at this point, I'm starting to get bored. Than then threatens to sue everybody and begs the blogger to pull change his header. You see, now, when you do a search for PR guru to the stars "Nathaniel Clevenger" on Yahoo or Google, instead of finding his work with different clients, etc. you see all of the blog headlines! Bwahahahaha.

Needless to say, news in a blog world travels fast... and the above thread has been used repeatedly on different sites as examples of how not to handle PR. I have to tell you, I learned one of the hardest lessons in my life after Than threw me under a bus with a spurious email (yes, I've saved it). Sometimes, even when your integrity is questioned, you just have to grin and bear it and let a jackass like Than come out ahead. Sounds like Than could have used that lesson here... Karma sure is a bitch. Congratulations on your award, Than!

Sunday, May 22, 2005

Metrosexual and Happy About It

I completely torqued my back this weekend between piggyback rides, "jump-around", dancing and playing rocket ship with my daughter. So, I said screw it. I grabbed one of the bath bombs from Lush that I got my wife, cranked up the hot water and made a bath. I grabbed the latest Fortune and a beer and jumped in. As I started to relax, I hear "Hey! What are you doing in there? You smell like a woman!" Are you kidding me? I feel like I went 10 rounds in the ring against Rosie O'Donnell, with a six pack of Ho-ho's and a gallon of Yoohoo tied to my back and you're complaining that the bath smells "womanly?" Hell, I even brought a beer in with me!

It got me thinking. How many other things are guys supposed to deprive themselves of because it's not considered masculine? I just asked my wife what kinds of things I do that she thinks are borderline gay. "You mean besides taking girly bubble baths?" Yeah. Besides that. "Isn't that enough?" A nice, hot bubble bath is just the start. Here are a couple of other things that would undoubtedly raise an eyebrow with the teste police -

  • Watching Desperate Housewives. This one, I just don't get. Supposedly, it's not cool for men to be watching Desperate Housewives, especially with American Chopper on Sunday nights now. I'm supposed to watch some fat guy with a handlebar mustache polish his bike and swear at his kids instead of watching Eva Longoria bounce around for an hour in a halter top and short-shorts? Are you high? Teri Hatcher. Hello. Lois is actually HOTTER now. And god only knows that any episode where Nicolette Sheridan has more than 3 minutes of dialog instantly qualifies for Cinemax late night movie status. Screw you, I'm watching the women of Wisteria Lane.
  • Having any Fashion Sense. I've got a buddy in our Seattle office that is the prototypical NorthWestern male. I think he owns every sleeveless vest jacket outfit known to man. I wear cuff-links to work and he snickers. Again, which one of us looks like Al from Tool Time? And how is wearing a vest jacket manly? "I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK..."
  • Being a Foodie and/or Cooking. Another one that blows me away. Apparently masculine men are supposed to eat chops and potatoes. Anything else better be cooked by the wife, who is undoubtedly shoeless and expecting. Apparently, cooking poached salmon and white asparagus tips in dill sauce is for sissies. I eat chops, too, damnit! And I grill better than you do. You can drag your hairy knuckles all the way to KFC, I'm going to eat whatever the hell I want whenever I want. And if I have to watch the Food Network to do it, than so be it. Bam!
  • Getting Pedicures. O.k. I admit this one is a little on the edge, but think about it for a minute. You go in to a spa, soak your feet in hot water and get a 15 minute calf massage. Since when is getting a massage a bad thing? Do it at HairM and you get all the beer you can drink while you wait. Please.

I guess I just don't see what the big deal is. It's not like I'm running out to buy a copy of the Crying Game or listening to Melissa Etheridge or Show Tunes here. You know, if David Beckham can get away with painting his fingernails, somebody needs to cut me some slack for taking a bath. Don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

She Went Pee-Pee in her Potty!

I'm sitting at work this morning, up to my eyeballs with a housing finance collateral piece that I'm putting together when the phone rings.

"Hi honey! Guess what?"
uh, I don't know, can't you just tell me?
"You're never going to believe it!"
your parents just won the lottery and I don't have to work any more?
"Stupid. That'll never happen."
hrmmm. you're going to make steaks for dinner tonight and give me a 60 min back rub?
"Stupid. That'll never happen."
o.k. I give up.
"Your daughter went pee-pee in her potty!!!"

Instant cheering. The woman down the hall has a daughter the same age as mine and her kid has been using the crapper for 6 months. I've been suffering from potty anxiety attacks on behalf of my kid, so it's about time! Now we're even. Actually, my daughter knows more farm animal sounds than hers, so I'm in a great mood now.

*cheering some more* did she go poo-poo, too?
"No. Just a lot of pee-pee."
that's great! I can't wait to come home and see if she'll do it for me, too!

I triumphantly hang up the phone, smile beaming from ear to ear. First thought - what bottle of wine do I open to celebrate tonight? Hrmmm I've got a 2000 Domaine Drouhin Laurene that should be just about right - but that isn't going to go as well with steaks. I've got some Justin I'm trying to burn through, yet while the 85-88 rating in today's WS has me thankful that I stopped the wine club shipments, I'm still totally depressed I have a fridge full of their stuff. Then it hits me. No, I'm not talking the realization that I'm hopelessly neurotic about wine. I just realized I'm doing the happy dance because my daughter relieved herself in a plastic potty.

I'm getting old.

Monday, May 16, 2005

Sideways

I finally got around to seeing the movie. Yes, I am, in fact, the last person in America to see it. I have a kid; I don't go to movies. So, I see 99% of my movies when they hit DirectTV Pay-Per-View, usually while drinking heavily and lounging around on the couch in my underwear. This occasion proved no different and actually inspired me to open a .375 of dessert wine after I finished off the regular bottle of wine. I finished the last 30 minutes on Sat. morning :-) On to thoughts about the movie.

I've heard everything under the sun with this one, so I really didn't know what to expect. I can say that I didn't really think it was the second coming of Christ, as most people were hyping it up to be. The ending absolutely sucked, and let's get real here - how cool is any movie about Solvang going to be? Honestly, it was George Costanza as a wine snob and a good looking Kramer wandering through the wine country which brings me to a side point - Seinfeld is the basis of all good screenwriting. Jerry is Gandalf, George is the Sam, Elaine is Frodo, Kramer is Golum and Newman is Sauron. Talk amongst yourselves.

So what's the deal with the gratuitous nudity in the movie? If you're really going to take the hit for an R movie, don't you at least want to have some good looking people doing the sex scene? I'm sorry, but the only thing worse than having to watch that behemoth of a woman screaming "F*** me in the a** 'cause I've been a bad girl" is watching Lothar, king of the tow truck drivers, give her the pounding. Gee, the green beanie is a nice touch. It distracted me for at least a tenth of a second during the 20 second naked frontal scene of Lothar running to the car. Yech.

I have to admit, there were some great lines in the movie. The "not drinking any fucking merlot" line was funny, even if it was rewritten because the scene would have blown ass if left as originally written. You KNOW it originally said "white zin" and the script writer said "hrmm, we've cast Maya as Mile's wine counterpart and the other chick works at a winery, so what's the next big sissy wine you can think of?" Other good lines - Miles describing a wine as a mix of grapes, stems and mice that passed as mouthwash and, of course, Jack's "One condom for you, three condoms for me" line, only to ask for Miles' condom back the next day.

For me, the greatest tragedy of the movie was the realization that so many people go through life without doing anything spectacular. They just go on, day to day, with their hoe-dee-doe lives and never do anything of merit. Yippee, you drove to 2 hours to Solvang for your bachelor party. Good god. Go do something exciting. If you want to take a road trip to nowhereville, go stand on a street corner in Winslow, Az. (Been there, done that) Go to Ireland and get drunk in a foreign country. Nothing like waking up from a hangover to "yer lookin' a wee bit under the weather there laddie!" Train for a marathon. Better yet, take off your pants and run down Castro Street in San Francisco. You'll be a world-class sprinter in no time!

In summary, 7 out of 10. It tried too hard to have a plot. Leave Miles as the angry little man that drinks the spit bucket and the movie is 10x better. Instead, we're all waiting for the sequel, which I can already tell you will have Miles and Maya getting married and yet another road trip. This time, it'll be through Napa and Jack will see how many migrant grape pickers he can bed at the same time, while riding on the Sterling tram. The bar scenes will be filled at Bistro Jeanty and the winery names will be changed to protect the innocent (Mondabi, Obus, etc.) Zzzzzzz. I'd ask for thoughts, but none of you wanks ever post comments anyways.

Friday, May 13, 2005

Slow Love

I'm listening to some freak music here at work. Downloaded "Slow Love" by Doc Box & B. Fresh. Song is 15 years old from a couple of one hit wonders, one of whom went fugitive status after shooting a cop. So, I'm laughing because the lyrics are so bad and I decide to IM the lyrics to a girlfriend as a joke.

Standing with me by the couch and sexy looks on your face
Like saying, “Take me, I’m yours” and “Love me down to the base”
I laid you down, kissed your navel, then moved up above
From your breast to your neck, hit the lights and make
slow love


Her response KILLED me.

"i can tell you ain't talkin' to me - slow love? righteous, freaky circus sex - maybe."

Thursday, May 12, 2005

Blackjack and Hookers

Quote of the day is a rerun from Bender on Futurama: "Yeah well, I'm gonna go build my own theme park with blackjack and hookers. In fact, forget the park." Yeah, it's just one of those days.

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

French Humor

Today's bit of humor is provided by French T.V., which broadcast a collection of sock puppets being blessed by the pope in the name of the Father, Son and the Third Reich. Link
The skit was followed by another sketch featuring a puppet wearing a beret and holding a baguette. The puppet was quoted as saying "I'm sorry we're a bunch of pussies" to wild applause.

Saturday, May 07, 2005

Marketing Retreats - Run Away.

Yes, I'm a complete assclown and have not updated the blog for a while. Bad Drew. Blame it on the marketing retreat that pulled me up to Seattle for two days and then blame Mother's Day, which pulled me back down to San Jose for 3 more. While we're at it, blame the Democrats. I'm sure they've done something in the last 5 minutes to piss me off, and they're more than deserving. Besides About a month back, I got an email from our events coordinator at work telling me to "set aside Thursday, May 5th for another exciting marketing retreat." I'm not quite sure what kind of response she was hoping to elicit from me, but I would imagine she would have achieved similar results with "It's time for your annual colonoscopy." So, I make my travel plans and book a room at one of the crappiest hotels in Seattle - the Renaissance Madison. Besides resting easy because I saved my firm $29.95 a night, Marriott is a having a 10,000 bonus point promotion right now and I'll do anything to get free stuff. Yes, I'm a whore.

Two days out. I'm on a conference call with my group and one of our directors tries to set the bar even lower than normal by noting "Given our current situation, I'm not sure you'll find this as substantive as past retreats, but we're going to go ahead with it anyways." Gee, thanks for the pep talk Chet. I can't wait to blow two days of my life in a conference room and now you're telling me it's going to be worse than the "let's talk about what makes me happy" retreat. Can I just jump out of a window now, or would you prefer I wait until we're off site?

Our last two retreats were hosted by, quite possibly, the worst consultants I have ever met in my life. For the life of me, I can't remember their names, so I'll refer to them as "Captain Rayon and the Crank Queen." Captain Rayon's name is Elroy, Elbow, Eldon or something close - just think weird name and a 55 year old man that puts on a rayon shirt EVERY time he leaves the house. As far as the Crank Queen goes, picture a cheerleading session hosted by one of the Golden Girls after 37 cups of coffee. In general, I'm about as cheery as Pat Robertson at a Marilyn Manson concert when it comes to anything marketing-related, so having a cranked-up version of Rue McClanahan asking me if I'm "ready ready ready" to be a team player at 8:00 AM is just ASKING for problems. We did the normal assortment of gay teambuilding exercises like introducing yourself to your colleagues (Hi my name is Andrew. I like drinking excessively, making fun of people on the internet and gentle spanking). I think they even forced us to sing something together. Needless to say, kill me now.

Retreat day gets off to a great start. I'm on 4 hours sleep and life is a little fuzzy. Fortunately for me, it wasn't quite as bad as the head of our graphics department, who literally ran into me while he was stumbling home from the bar at 11:30 at night. Whole other story. My good buddy Dave is set to pick me up for breakfast at 7:00 AM, so I volunteered to pay. "Volunteered to pay" is a bit of a stretch, given I expsense everything, but it's the thought that counts. Well, jackass calls at 7:05 to tell me that he's going to be late. Luckily, I've just checked out of my room and I'm standing in the cold already. 7:10. 7:15. 7:18, the phone rings. "Uh, what hotel are you in?" Hrmm, I don't know, the one I'm in EVERY FUCKING TIME I COME TO SEATTLE? "Oh yeah. Uh, where is it?" After walking a block and a half, I finally catch up to his car and we head off to eat. "Dude, we are SOOO going to Etta's. It's the bomb." Apparently, it's also CLOSED. The retreat starts in an hour and we're still looking for somewhere to eat... Ended up having a great breakfast in the Market and Dave drove us to the conference center. Thanks for the ride, Dave. Next time, maybe we can to the conference center where the RETREAT IS AT. So, I pick up all my luggage and schlep it back to the truck and drive across town to the correct venue this time. Gee, what are friends for?

I'm ready to scream as I walk into the room 10 minutes late. The facilitator set out colored foam blocks in front of everyone and then proceeds to talk about our color energies and how we should consider them when interacting with other people. I immediately grab the foam block and wonder if I can use it to choke the graphics guy, who stumbles into the room an hour late. Why not? If Oprah can do random acts of kindness, what should stop me from doing random acts of violence? Then, the highlight of the day. We get our personality reports back. Apparently, I don't play well with others. I am one of two "red" people in the room, characterized as highly aggressive, impulsive and overly-confident. I leave people in my wake and am not sensitive of other people's feelings. Well now there's a fucking newsflash. Let me call my therapist, I think we've made a breakthrough. Sufficiently amazed with our consultant, I proceed to take everybody else at my table's color blocks and build a tower in front of me with them. Yippee. Time to catch my plane and reflect on the fact that I can explain to my wife that it's ok for me to be an ass because it's my natural personality - just ask the guy we paid a small fortune to in exchange for some foam blocks and a psyche lecture.

One last note. Probably should use for a separate post, but at this rate, who knows when that is going to be. A friend that reads the blog sent me this link - http://www.signonsandiego.com/news/world/20050428-1231-explodingtoads.html I immediately see the "explodingtoads.html" and get excited because I'm expecting one of those shockwave games where you get to smash things with a hammer. They're cool. Instead, I hit the link and there's a blow-up of a real dead frog/toad in living color with a long, drawn-out article talking about birds ripping open frog bellies, causing them to balloon and explode. Gee Carolyn, I'm happy I was EATING LUNCH when I opened that one up. Nothing quite like "hungry crows are pecking out their livers" while you're poking through a turkey sandwich. So, please enjoy the article on Frog-gras and feel free to send other exciting articles my way!

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Coming Soon

Half-way through a post. Should have it by tonight...