GaTa Don't Play No Shit

I know I'm late, but I hangover binged DAVE yesterday. Spoilers incoming. As it currently stands, I am watching or completed 126 TV shows. 42 of which are still active and making new seasons. I try not to add any shows currently airing unless I think I'll really love it. I was waiting for a couple more seasons of DAVE before I was going to watch, but my hangover partner had other plans in mind. It was awesome. Lil Dicky very well may be a genius talent, but it was GaTa who stole the show. 

GaTa (pronounced like alliGATA) plays Lil Dicky's sort of spirit guide and hype man in the show. GaTa meets Dave by chance in the studio and helps him navigate the same music industry that shunned him. He's a motormouth who's fast paced ramblings are seeded in hilariously good counsel. I've already added "let's wiggle" to my own vocabulary. Stole it really. 

The fifth episode "Hype Man" is centered around GaTa. You witness his rock bottom and unlikely trajectory that leads him to his friendship with Lil Dicky. There's a scene that really did it for me where it's revealed that GaTa is struggling with being bipolar. The episode is a turning point for the show where the audience realizes it's not all dick jokes and rainbows. There's serious issues going on viewed through a comedic veil. GaTa's revelation to the group comes through a face full of tears. He confesses that he fears constant rejection by his peers due to his illness. Choked up, he delivers my favorite line of the whole show:

"I love yall man. You guys make me feel comfortable. You guys are weirdos just like me bro. This dude rap about havin a small dick all the time. This dude right here rubs acne on his back, no problem. This dude back here dresses cool as fuck, he knows all the hip-hop urban lingo but pronounces all his words properly! And I'm really bipolar bruh, like really bipolar." 

And he acted his fucking ass off doing it. It's a sad but funny scene. Kicks you right in the heart balls. But the tears seemed too real and the conversation too authentic. Which ultimately led to me checking DAVE's imdb page. You can imagine my surprise when I found out that "GaTa" was played by none other than GaTa. The dude plays himself. 

So I internet stalked him. Turns out GaTa is Lil Dicky's real-life hype man whom he met in the studio. He actually did have a stint in the music industry and has the Instagram pictures with a young Tyga to prove it. GaTa really was diagnosed as bipolar and is currently using his story to spread awareness and acceptance. Dude never acted a day in his life and is now a star of one of TV's best new shows. 

I don't have any proof, but Will Ferrell's impulsive pimp alter ego in The Other Guys would make a lot of sense for how GaTa got his name.  

DAVE gets my stamp of approval, whatever that's worth. Besides the wit, cringe comedy, big name cameos, and rap, my biggest takeaway so far has been from GaTa. Be yourself, be weird, and if you don't fake your relationships, the ones you want to make will find you. 

My Palm Springs

If you haven't watched Andy Samberg's new movie Palm Springs on Hulu I recommend you catch yourself up. It's funny, it's frustrating, it's thought provoking, it's a good movie. If you haven't watched it and you care, I'm going to spoil a few things. If you don't care about spoilers, well, then you're a sociopath. 

The movie is about Andy Samberg's character who's stuck in an infinite time loop where every day he wakes up on the morning of his girlfriend's friend's wedding. It feels like a destination wedding. We should all be so lucky to have our Groundhog's Day on vacation.

I don't think I'd be one of the lucky ones. If I was to unfortunately find myself in a loop I'm sure it would take place in my stupid ass boring ass hometown in New Jersey. So I got to thinking how I would spend my eternity where I grew up. This is what I came up with. 

Ways to murder myself. Kind of a rough start but let's get it out of the way. In the movie, the day doesn't only restart if you fall asleep but also if you die. Dying seems like a natural starting point to try and escape foreverness. Andy's character explains to Cristini Milioti that he went through a similar phase when she kills them in a truck accident.

I have a fear of heights so I don't do rollercoasters. I don't understand them. The only thrill of a rollercoaster is oh shit, if this goes wrong I'm dead. Pass. But if dying isn't an issue I'll drive the forty minutes to Six Flags and head straight to Kingda Ka. But knowing my shitty ticker I'll still die of a heart attack.

I've never been to the top of the Empire State Building (see fear of heights^^). I know this is terrible to say but the couple of chances I've had to go up, I swore that it'd be taken down in another terrorist attack with me on top of it. But I can't die, so even my bad luck wouldn't play a factor. In my loop, I'd jump off. I heard a quote once that humans don't have a fear of heights but rather a fear that they'll jump. So why not the Empire State Building?

Lastly, I would drown the shit out of myself. It's always bothered me that people say it's a "peaceful" way to die. Shut up. How the fuck would you know? This one I'd do just to get some answers.

Entertaining myself. Forever is a long time. With death off the table I'd treat my existence as a video game with unlimited respawns. For most of these missions I'd need money for expenses and drugs to stay awake. Money isn't a big hurdle, I'd use a million credit cards and never have to pay them back. And I'd say 70% of people know how to get meth in their hometown if it was a do or die situation. All bases covered, let's rock.

If you don't like bank robbing movies go shit in your hand. By the time I'm done, my bank robbing skills would make John Dillinger blush. People may get hurt along the way but they'll be fine when I wake up. I'll probably eat a few strays during my heists but it'll be worth the rush. It also doubles as a good source of income if I can learn how to rob a local bank in under an hour.

Next would be Area 51. This would be a Boss level mission. It would presumably take some heavy weaponry and a flight to Nevada. And meth, a whole lot of meth. Once I figured out my way in, the only shitty thing would not being able to tell everybody what I've discovered. Still worth it. I wouldn't stop until I got answers.

Last is sex stuff. Andy's character spends a lot of his time wooing his surroundings. That's just nature. I'm not going to tell you what I'd do though, piggy. If you must know, hypothetical arrangements were made.

How I'd break the loop. In the movie Milioti's character becomes an expert in quantum physics to escape their loop. If you literally gave me eternity I don't think I could crack quantum physics. So I'd go to the man who has the most clearance on the entire planet. The president. I'd drive five hours every day to DC to map out a way into the White House. Let's assume after years and years of trial and error riddled with some gory deaths, I succeed. After all this time I finally corner the president, not unlike National Treasure. I explain to him my situation but he doesn't believe me. I tell him to think of a password for him to believe me that only he would know. I say I'll do this all again tomorrow and give him the password even though he won't remember any of this. I ask him if he's thought of one, he says yes. I tell him the password. I already did this yesterday. His mind is blown, he believes me now. I explain to him he needs to keep me awake until his best scientists can figure this out. The loop breaks and now I have worldly influence. That's it, that's my loop.

If you haven't watched Andy Samberg's new movie Palm Springs on Hulu I recommend you catch yourself up. It's funny, it's frustrating, it's thought provoking, it's a good movie. If you haven't watched it and you care, I'm going to spoil a few things. If you don't care about spoilers, well, then your a sociopath. 

The Weather App Theory

I'd say I believe less conspiracy theories than the average person today. I only believe in this theory that I'm going to tell you about because I made it up myself. The Weather App on your iPhone keeps saying that it's going to be shitty out so nobody makes plans. Even now I'm looking back at my window to make sure there isn't a red dot on my head.

Weather was never much of a concern to my plans. If I leave my house, I'm in a bar. If I don't, I'm in my house. The only time I would check the Weather App was to see if the Yankee game was going to be postponed or if I needed to make changes to a daily fantasy lineup. Other than that, weather shmeather.

But as of late, I've been checking the app every single morning. I've been working on weekends and the weather has been a strong indicator of how busy or miserable my day is going to be. It has been supposed to rain or thunderstorm A LOT. But it hasn't rained or thunderstormed a lot. I've gathered this data from the amount of white guy conversations of "Hoo man I should've been a weatherman. Six figure salary and you're allowed to be wrong 60% of the time? No accountability amirite?"

But the hypothetical white guy from the ENZYTE commercial is right, the weatherman IS wrong all the time. So what would be a better way to keep people in their homes than faux weather? If people stay home from storms that never come, they shake their fist at the sky and say that dang weatherman is at it again. Who could blame the government for that? It's the perfect crime. It's so genius that I wish I'd thought of it, even though I actually did.

Keep track of your little thunder cloud emojis. See how many actually come to fruition. Keep a journal if you must. More importantly, if you don't hear from me in a couple of days it's probably because I was assassinated.

Fanny Vs. Cunt

My mom informed me that I'd be the one tasked with entertaining my cousin when her and my great-aunt came over from Scotland. My great-aunt who married a Glasgow judge and my cousin who grew up wealthy in Scotland's capital. The same fancy great-aunt who was responsible for the only time I ever got soap in my mouth as a child. 

Last time my aunt visited, my mom warned seven-year-old me to be on my best behavior. So naturally, I farted on her. My Grandpa found it hilarious, my darling mother did not. Liquid soap right in the mouth. Punishment didn't even make sense. Needless to say I was nervous for our second encounter. 

When I was introduced to my cousin, or re-introduced rather, it was awkward. After asking pleasantries on the flight and duration of stay I had nothing. So we went quiet. Well, the grown-ups did not like that. They continued to tell us how close we were when we were infants like that meant anything to either one of us. Then my aunt told us the last time we were "hangin oot" together was when she had the two of us naked in the tub. Thanks for that, that definitely makes the situation way more comfortable. My cousin turned beet red at her grandmother and I pretended like I didn't hear it.

Separate and conquer was the method of choice. I had to get my cousin away from the adults so we didn't have to act like them. My other cousin, an American one, just closed on her new home and it seemed like the perfect excuse for a "cousins only" BBQ. Long story short, my Scottish cousin got hammered and it turns out she's hilarious. I don't know why I was surprised, my blood does run through her veins after all.  

After good drinks and better conversation, my one buzzkill cousin decided to question our Scottish guest on why she says "cunt" so much. Wasn't exactly what we were prepared for from the Glasgow socialite. She apologized and told us that cunt didn't have the same zing on it like it does here. Then she explained to us the many uses of the word. For instance "the cuntin thing, or ah cunt, or instead of ma friends I say ma cunts, or calling a child a wee cunt".

That's when I chimed in with "Would you call your grandma a cunt?" 

To which she replied, "Oh Gran? My favorite cunt." 

All of us laughed except one, one scowled. When the giggles died out everyone's new favorite cousin got real serious. She said "You cunts don't say that word like we don't say 'fanny'."

Umm fuckin what now? What's wrong with fanny? We told her that's what children use sometimes instead of "butt". She scolded us for letting children use the word in the first place. I didn't have the heart to tell her it's not necessarily every day vocabulary. She was enjoying being disgusted with us revolting Americans. 

Then she looked me dead in the eye and said "You wouldn't use that word with your Gran, would you?"

"I mean sure. Like if she was dizzy or something I could say 'Grandma sit back down on your fanny."

She started gagging and said "Good lord. Please doont say that in front of me ever again."

Language is a cruel mistress. Location means a lot. In Scotland "cunt" is a term of endearment while here in America it's grounds for termination. The more you know. I thought the trip was a resounding success. I even discussed plans to visit the old country. My darling mother once again, disagreed. I'm too tall and strong now for soap in the mouth, so she's banned me from her homeland. 

How Do I Tell My New Dog That We Have To Put Our Old Dog Down?

The day is coming. My chocolate lab, Mickey, is taking his last lap. He's been in our family for the last 14 years and his last check up did not go as well as we hoped. Mickey's eyesight is going, his hips are failing him, he's riddled with benign lumps, and now he's diabetic. Which what the fuck, who knew that was a thing? I told my dad to stop feeding him human food but he wouldn't listen. Now he's to blame for my dog's and potentially my own diabetes. Vet said we need to make a decision soon. 

Luckily for Mickey, his last few years were spent with our new dog, Avon. I don't call them brothers because I'm not one of those creepy people. Also, they lick each other's dicks so it'd be inappropriate to label them in that fashion. Partners maybe. 

Avon is a pit bull my brother rescued when he was at college. He didn't tell my parents he had a dog until he graduated and it was time to come home. My mom told him he'd have to move out if he brought the dog with him. Joke was on her because he did bring Avon home, and it was her who moved out eight months later after my parents split up. 

We're pretty sure Avon was used as a fighting dog. He has a bunch of curiously placed scars on his face and intimacy issues. Well, he pretends to hate love. Avon looks away whenever you show him affection like he's not enjoying it but the second you walk away he comes back for a second helping. You couldn't get him to bite you if you tried, and trust me I've tried. He's a mush.  

We learned early on that we weren't allowed to walk Mickey and Avon separately. Avon would lose his ever loving mind whenever we took Mickey out without him. Yelling, squealing, yelping, made a whole scene. It's just a theory, and a sad one at that, but I think whenever Avon's old dog friends were taken away it meant that they were going to fight and wouldn't be coming back the same if at all. Which begs the question, what the fuck are we going to do? 

Mickey's going sooner rather than later. He can't take two steps without being out of breath. When we take Mickey to the vet for the final time is Avon going to think that we had him killed in a fight? I can't exactly explain to Avon all of Mickey's medical conditions. 

This sucks. It's the first time I've been old enough where I felt the responsibility to be there when they put my dog down. I'm going to be a wreck, Avon's screams on the way out won't help. The only logical solution I can think of is I have to get another dog. New rule of two. I must have two dogs in my house at all times so the eldest dog never feels sad or lonely. 

Can You Shave In Space?

I have shaving on my mind. My little brother and I are having a petty war over our shared bathroom sink. He shaved his beard and left little shavies fucking everywhere. I yelled at him, he accused me of a similar crime, now the sink has been covered in dark tiny hairs for the past week. While he's still shaving in our bathroom, I've been shaving in our Dad's sink to prove a point. Little silent protest action. But every time I shower in our bathroom, just seeing the sink is enough to make me consider fratricide. So I started to wonder, what could possibly be worse than this?

It's probably because I'm reading science fiction at the moment, but I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to shave in space. The sink is bad enough, but what if you don't even have a sink? Or gravity! The fucking horror. Your spaceship covered in floating shavies! Everybody is itchy 24/7, or whatever the term is for a place with no day or night. God forbid you mosey about the cabin with your mouth open. Imagine choking on someone else's beard and then having to wash it down with water made from filtered urine. There's just no way they shave. 

Alright I'll clean the sink. Perspective and all. There's also the looming possibility that it actually was my hair the whole time, but I doubt it. I'll clean it after I shave for work tomorrow. I hate that I have to shave for work, maybe I'll switch to an astronaut. I'll take the peepee water if I can keep my beard. I'm sure I meet whatever the other requirements are. 

Imagine Being A Disney Hotel Employee?

No fucking thanks. Who has more pressure on them right now more than Disney World hotel employees? Well probably vaccination researchers and a lot of other people. But still, they're getting dragggged. There is just no way they're used to this kind of heat. This isn't their normal feedback, everyone is usually too happy to complain. Or they're child adults in which case who cares. What happens to "The Happiest Place On Earth" when everybody is pissed off?

I can't stop picturing that team meeting in the hotel the morning after NBA players started posting pictures of their "Fyre Fest" food. Just imagine a manager smiling while screaming at a bunch of terrified employees who also have to be smiling while they're getting their asses chewed out. "Listen up you stinkin Mousketeers! Our NBA guests are posting pictures of food that is not so magical looking, wah. FIGURE IT THE FUCK OUT! Now stop being so Goofy, heehee, and have fun out there! Toodles!". I'm no screenwriter, but you get it. Disney people freak me out. 

The NBA players are being dicks. It's a resort, you can't all have suites. LeBron reserved all of them. You knew you were playing in Disney World, they told you that. What were your food expectations? How can you whine about your meal not being fancy enough at a place where the majority of the clientele have chicken fingers and mac & cheese for dinner? The fuck?

So if you're the religious type, send up a prayer for the nineteen-year-old foreign exchange program employees who are getting publicly shafted for not preparing escargot. If South Park is to be believed, The Mouse is not the forgiving type.