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A pattern is emerging. It appears that my book is decidedly "lowbrow." First New York Magazine placed it in the lowbrow/brilliant quadrant of their Approval Matrix, and now YRB Magazine has dubbed it "Lowbrow Lit." This latest assessment can be found in the new issue, #84, featuring Nas on the cover. The Brooklyn-based periodical gave Things that Suck a great review, and placed it up front in their Jump Off section.
Thanks for the hook-up, guys. Please give Alicia Keys my phone number.
I should point out that while I have now been embraced by my black brethren, Heeb magazine has yet to step up and help a Hebrew out. Their latest issue, which I couldn't resist picking up, features an all-Jew swimsuit calendar. My favorite pin-up happens to be Donna Feldman, perched on a surfboard with a copy of Portnoy's Complaint. Less impressive is their choice of book reviews, such as "The Big Penis Book," a coffee table tribute to over-sized schlongs. And I'm the one they call "lowbrow."
I make no apologies for the lifestyle I lead. I'm a bachelor. And as such, I leave the toilet seat up. I coexist peacefully with spiders. And I tend to clean my shower 1/10th as frequently as the Center for Disease Control recommends. Therefore it was with some trepidation that I allowed a TV crew to come in recently and film a news story in my bathroom.
Rich DeMuro, tech reporter for CBS 2 & KCAL News wanted to do a little piece on IdeaStox.com, a new website where users post concepts and inventions they hope to pair with sponsors. I decided to tell the world about my dream for shampoo to be sold in nature-friendly bar-form, and the next thing I know, there's a high-def camera parked beside my medicine cabinet.
I'm not providing you a link to the video because I look like a douche. But let me just suggest that the next time you need to get rid of unsightly mold in hurry, fuck the environment and go get yourself a bottle of Tilex. This crap is toxic. And it works. If you're in the neighborhood, stop by and see for yourself. Dinner will be served on my bathroom floor.
Okay...sorry for the title, but I couldn't resist. The Chinese government may call their little lip-syncing ruse "in the best interest of the country," but I call it "Singin' in the Rain meets General Tsao's Chicken." And it just tastes bad. In the first place, I think little Yang Peiyi, the girl behind the curtain, is perfectly adorable. It's beyond me why she was ever deemed not-cute-enough. Can I adopt her? Secondly, it's the freaking Olympics! If ever there was a situation that called for an honest performance, this was it. 
Is it any surprise, then, that athletes are now calling into question the age of a number of China's gymnasts who recently medaled top honors? Frankly, who would put it past them, swapping in better performers for those less suitable. Clearly the powers that be are willing to save face by simply not showing a real one.
I make a red book, and look what happens. How the hell am I supposed to stand out now? Can you even find mine here in the window of Skylight Books? People...you really need to start doing your own thing.
If I didn't kill myself before California's hands-free law went into effect, chances are I will now. I went to Costco this weekend and spent forty bucks on a Bluetooth (stupidest name ever) device for my car. Whereas before I simply had to dial my phone, often with the single press of a button, I now have to coordinate wireless communication between my phone and a glorified garage door opener hanging from my sun visor. It's harder than you'd think. You know how frustrating it can be when your computer won't print? Well it's like that. Except you're driving. In Los Angeles. For someone already suffering from a certain degree of road rage, to me, this qualifies as a traffic hazard. Here is a sample conversation, initiated with a push of a "convenient" "multi-function button":
Bluetooth Safety Device: BEEEEP. "Please say a command."
Jason: "Call Melanie."
Bluetooth Safety Device: "Command not recognized. Please say a command."
Jason: "Call. Mel-a-nie."
Bluetooth Safety Device: "Did you say Eric?"
Jason: "No, you fucking fuck! I said Melanie!"
Bluetooth Safety Device: "Calling Eric."
Jason: "God DAMMIT!"
Eric: "Hello?"
This, in the scheme of things, qualified as a successful call. Why? Because a call was actually placed. In most cases, the wireless thing just drops the connection to the phone and I'm back where I used to be. Other times, the wireless thing will ring and I'll press the button to answer, but all it does it buzz. At that point you can hear me saying hello about ten times in a row, followed by a string of expletives. I'm aware that all of this is in effort of making the roads safer, but it will be very telling to look at the accident reports for the period containing July 2008. A recent study showed that the mere act of talking on the phone while driving is what creates a dangerous situation, not the actual holding of a phone. Anyway, I know what you're thinking. Why didn't I just spend more on the wireless thing?? Be-fucking-cause I didn't.
Last night I got a call from my good friends in Brooklyn, Josh & Claire. Apparently Things that Suck has landed on New York Magazine's "approval matrix." Exciting! Fortunately, the editors placed it on the brilliant-slash-lowbrow quadrant, nearby JJ Abrams' new tv pilot and Leona Lewis' "Bleeding Love." Very nice to be recognized, although I'm not sure if a spot next to the "despicable" forthcoming Hot Tub Time Machine would have been all that bad.
A pattern is emerging. It appears that my book is decidedly "lowbrow." First New York Magazine placed it in the lowbrow/brilliant quadrant of their Approval Matrix, and now YRB Magazine has dubbed it "Lowbrow Lit." This latest assessment can be found in the new issue, #84, featuring Nas on the cover. The Brooklyn-based periodical gave Things that Suck a great review, and placed it up front in their Jump Off section.
Thanks for the hook-up, guys. Please give Alicia Keys my phone number. 
