Diner? Let's do it.

I love diners. Love them. Just about every city, town, village, borough, municipality, alleyway has a diner. Even places so small that they only have two intersections. One of those intersections will have a diner. Probably a diner/gas station/ tire shop/ shower for truckers/ police station/ liquor store, but it will be there. Or it's four am and you're wandering in a city, you want some food, and over the hill, what do you see? A gorgeous, tiny, come as you are diner. Love these damn places for many reasons.

EVERYONE goes to diners. Every type of person. Hot people go to diners, ugly people, tall people, tiny baby people, amputees, full-utees, and everyone in between. You can see giant men in scooters whose flab is touching the floor crushing milk shakes. You can see a gorgeous woman with a huge ass in tight pants passing out drunk while eating a cheeseburger. People who look like they've strangled cats. People who look like they help people strangle cats. Cops. The complete opposite of cops. Diners are like grown up cafeterias in city high schools. Jocks, nerds, teachers, posers. They are all there.

Diners are usually opened twenty four hours. All damn day! How great is that? What other places are open twenty four hours? Some grocery stores, sure, which is great, but it's food that you then have to make. Not even all shady places are open all day. Strip clubs close. And where do those strippers end up? Diners. I guess drug houses are open twenty four hours a day, but you can't get a pulled pork sandwich in a building that also sells meth.
"Yo, man. I need an eight ball, and a Cuban."
"Cuban? Cigar? Cuban person, motherfucker?"
"Naw, the sandwich. Cuban sandwich."
"I cook meth here, not meat.... Wait. If I cooked meat, you'd buy, meat, AND meth? Let me think about it."

Diners also don't have any weird rules. ANY time of day, you go in to a diner you can get what you want. That doesn't happen anywhere else. McDonald's has strict breakfast times. Not diners. Want breakfast at 11pm? Done. You want to start your day with a turkey dinner and a bowl of raisin bran? No problem. Where else can your ridiculous craving for pancakes and whip cream with a side of gyro meat at four in the morning be filled? Not even at a place that only sells those things.
"Hey, can I get combo number one?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but we ar..."
"What do you mean? You are called 'Pancakes and whip cream gyro meat dreams'! Tag line, 'Are you a monster who wants these things together? Well come on in and we'll make you feel better'.
"Yes, I know. But we are closed. This is a very niche store. We gonna keep this open all day? You're the only person I've seen eat here and we go through this every night! See you tomorrow, Chris."
".... Alright. Goodnight, Steve."

Menus at diners are massive. You could beat somebody to death with a diner menu. Some of these things are about twenty pages. Twenty pages! Of food! In one place! How do they have space for this? Do they NEED twelve types of sandwiches? Nope. But they have them. Why? Because diners are magical. Five different muffins. Seven cakes. Eight burger options. Don't even try to count the number of ways you can get potatoes. Gyros, soups, kabobs, desserts. Diners are the Shang Tsung of restaurants. It's like they have sucked up everything off of everyone else's menu. About four hundred food options, and twelve seconds to decide what you want. Usually a waitress will hand you a menu, spin in a circle, and ask you if you're ready.
"Hey, here's an encyclopedia of every piece of food ever made. Also, don't forget, that you can also order whatever you want, even if it's not on the menu, and we'll figure it out for you... Do you know what you want?"
"I haven't opened the menu yet."
"Okay. I'll give you a minute.... (rock paper scissors with herself) .... You ready now?"

There are no topics of conversation off limit in these places. You can talk about ANYTHING in these places. Family, sex, breaking the law. People for sure plan bank jobs in diners. Criminals sitting in booths for hours talking about how they're going to get the key from the manager.
"Honestly, I say, just walk in, crack him in the fuc... Oh, yeah. I'll have a cherry coke and a burger. Hey, let me ask you a question. If you were gonna get the keys from your manager, you think cracking him in the head would get the job done?"
"Um. No. I'd just ask him."
"(GASP) Just ask him!"
People sit in diners and talk about work. People go into diners late and talk about banging people in club bathrooms. At any level, too. You can talk as loud as you want about the sex you're having.
"LAST NIGHT I BANGED THIS PERSON AND IT WAS A GREAT TIME!"
"Oh yeah? That sounds awesome."
"IT WAS! WE WERE MAKING AS MUCH NOISE AS I AM RIGHT NOW, IN THIS DINER! LAST NIGHT I YELLED 'DEAR GOD, I HAVE NEVER BEEN THIS HARD, I MIGHT BREAK SOMETHING', AND NOW,  I'M GOING TO YELL, 'HEY, PUT EXTRA CHEESE ON THAT BURGER. I HAVE NEVER BEEN THIS HARD!"

Diners also aren't picky about how long you're there. You can order a coffee, maybe a bagel, sit there for six hours, nobody will anything say to you. Chill the whole damn day. Any other place letting you do that? Don't think so. You can't go into Red Lobster, just get biscuits, and sit there for hours.
"What would I like....? Well, I'm going to maybe talk on my phone for awhile, maybe someone will come meet me. I'll probably have a bunch of cigarettes waiting for this bus I have to get on... That'll probably be six hours.... I'll just have a diet pepsi. And keep em coming."

Waiters and waitresses at diners don't care what you're doing. If you walked into a steakhouse with puke on your shirt, you might get some looks.

"Hello, I'll be serving you tonight. Can I start you with som... oh god."

"Wooooooo! Yeah. I'll start with.... (burp)... ah, god. I'll take a .... fuuuuuucckkkkk."

"Sir, there's a little bit of... you have some... on your shirt there."

"Oh, this? Yeah.... it's not mine. A girl fell into me an.... (burp)... I'll take a.... aaahhhhh, I can't stop spinning."

Waiters at diners? Won't even look twice. You could come in there with your head cut off, holding a dead hooker. They won't even blink an eye.

"Hey, sorry that I'm coming in this way, but before I head to the hospital I wanted to get some food."

"Sorry? Sorry for what? Wasting my time? Just order your food. Is that head eating? What does it want?"

And that's another thing that makes diners great. It's acceptable to be what you are. You're beyond trashed? You're a seven hundred pound cripple? You have half a head and six arms? Cool. How do you take your coffee? Diners won't kick you out for being drunk. Diners won't kick you out for being smacked out of your mind on smack. Diners won't even kick you out for beating a kid at your table for not eating his dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets (which diners have!). As long as diners are around, we will all have a place to go.

twitter @nathanmacintosh

New Years Eve. The most overhyped day of the year.

New Years Eve. It keeps happening, every single year. And every year, it's the most overhyped day. Expectations of this night run way too high. St. Patricks Day gets a lot of hype. Halloween, Christmas are pumped up. But those Holidays have other things attached to them other than getting drunk and yelling at midnight. New Years Eve doesn't have presents, it doesn't have dinners or costumes or one man who flies through the entire world breaking into houses to leave things for children. It's just drinking and yelling. And still, NYE never lives up to it's own hype.

By some girls, NYE gets treated like prom. Every single year. Every year they have to make sure everything's perfect. Have something specific to wear, have a place picked out to go to, have a table reserved at said place, have a timetable of when you're allowed to drink before hand and at what time you have to go to get to 'the spot'.
"So, I'm going to wear this, we're going to drink here, my hair has to be perfect, we have to leave here by this time or we won't make it and then 2014 is gonna suck!"
And if everything doesn't go according to plan? Woa. Look out. You are going to see a lot of people crying, a lot of mascara running, a lot of screaming about what should have been and where friends are.
"Well the hell is Stacy?! I haven't seen her in an hour and I have her phone. Is she dead? What happened to her?"
"I don't know. Last I saw her she was inside and she said she just found a whole bunch of random pills in her drink."
"Like 'random' random or random?"

These are the same girls who are crying at the end of the night. Tons of women crying because it's too cold, they're too drunk, or the night didn't go exactly as they planned.

"At exactly midnight this bottle of wine was supposed to be open and THAT bottle of wine was supposed to be closed! Ahhhhhhhh, nothing goes right!"

"Why are you crying?"

"Because EVERYTHING fell apart, that's why! It WAS gonna be great, but I couldn't find the cork screw, and SOME people don't know how to finish a bottle of wine. HERE, THIS is how you drink it, you idiots!"

Getting a cab on New Years is insane. You might as well bring the raw materials to make your own and go from there.

"Alright, let's bail. Call a cab?"

"Yeah, sure. If we want to wait until next New Years. Nope. I'm going to piece a car together. I have a transmission. Does anyone have ANY of the other parts of a car?"

"... I have an air freshener?"

"First we BUILD the car, THEN we worry about how it smells, alright, Gary?!"

Some people can't believe that cabs would be busy on NYE. I was looking up a number for a cab the other day and came across this companies yelp page. Someone gave them one star, so I wanted to see why. This was some of what they said.

"This company is THE WORST. New Years Eve, we're drinking at my house. At 11, we call a cab to go to a bar for 12. The cab driver says it'll be a half hour. He shows up fifty minutes later. So now we're in a cab at 11:50, and it's almost midnight!"

I'll stop there. Who the hell is this maniac to think that you can call a cab an hour before the countdown and MAKE it to where you wanted to go? AN HOUR. On easily one of the busiest cab nights of the year. Cabs aren't going to go right on this day. 

When I was 18 I think,  me and some friends were drinking at a hotel, and heard about a party that was happening. We jumped in a cab and started heading over there. We got stuck in traffic, until the countdown happened. So we did the countdown, in the cab, with the cab driver. Missed the most important part of the night because of traffic. Do you miss Christmas if you get stuck in traffic? That would have to be some LONG traffic jam for that.
"Look, have dinner without me. I've already been stuck here for twelve hours, and a man in front of me just lit his car on fire. I'll see you on the 26th."

You have to be ready to countdown at midnight. If you miss the countdown, what was the whole thing for? Halloween, Christmas, no other holiday has that sort of pressure on it. There's no specific time you have to open presents or they get thrown out. And you're supposed to kiss someone at midnight. The NYE countdown is like the last slow song at a school dance. You better be holding someone, kissing something when it happens, or you're just watching people have a good time.

One of the worst things about NYE for me, is always having lived in places where it's cold on that night. Celebrating in the freezing cold is not fun. I bet living in a hot place that night is instantly better.

"You want to wear a t-shirt and walk to the bar?"

"Like every night? You're damn right!"

You have something on you want people to see, but you have to wear winter clothes over top of everything. Most people don't want to do that though. People waiting in line wearing just the stuff they want to be seen in. No winter jackets, no scarves, no hats. Just cocktail dresses, dress shirts, and maybe some blazers. You can't be seen being warm. People will think you're a loser! 

"Dress pants, dress shoes with no socks, and a dress shirt open to my chest. Ready to go out."

"It's freezing outside. You want to put a jacket on?"

"Naw, man. I look amazing. And that line up won't be long."

ALL the line ups are long. Not just the ones to get in, the ones to get alcohol once you're there are long too. You bring a book? Well, then what are you going to do when you wait? Talk to the people around you? Probably not. Music is blaring in your face. To yourself? You could do that.
"Man, I love standing here waiting to pay twelve dollars for a rum and coke. It's amazing that I have to wait for that expensive of a beverage. Maybe the extra seven dollars is for all the watering down they'll do to it. Thanks, NYE."

Line up for coat check is long as hell. Also, coat check is a complete scam. One, because too many people are wearing plain black pea coats. It's way too easy for those to get lost and for you to end up with someone else's coat. 

"Is this mine?"

"It's a black peacoat. Who cares."

"But mine had different buttons right here."

"And now it has different buttons there. Big deal."

Two, because why can't you just keep your coat? You bought it. Some places force you to check your coat. They make you do it. Not only are you not allowed to keep your coat, you have to pay for them to take it off your hands. That's ridiculous. You should have the option. Being forced to do it is not right.

"Sir, give me your coat."

"I'm good. I'll just keep it."

"Ah, no . You cannot keep it. Give me it, and give me money for me forcing you to give it to me as well."

"I don't want to do any of these things!"

"You're a cheap piece of garbage. You don't like having someone else handle the coat you bought and pay them to do it? You probably put water in your ketchup."

Probably the best time you're going to have on New Years is one where you stay home with people you like. Just watch the ball drop from home. Do you know how terrible it would be to actual BE there? Once you are in Times Square, you are not leaving. People go to the bathroom in bottles! You're stuck there for hours! And for what? There's a bunch of people jammed one top of you who are holding bottles of their own piss. Sweet. And you get to see some of your favourite artists sing one song, and also artists you hate do the same thing. Does that sound fun?
"Man, where can I go to stand in the cold for hours around tons of people I don't know who are urinating in Fanta bottles and wearing diapers? And even if I find THAT place, how do I find that place that also has Anderson Cooper conducting this whole night of piss bottle fun? ... No. You're serious?! New Years Eve in Times Square has ALL of that? Well, Jesus. I'm shocked. My dreams have come true. Happy New Year!"

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

Christmas is Christmas no matter where you Christmas.

I've always liked Christmas. Now though, for different reasons. Now, as an adult, I can do what I want on that day. As a kid you might have to have dinner at a certain time, or go to a family members house. As an adult, don't have to do anything. Don't have to go to a certain persons house for dinner at a certain time. Don't have to have conversations with cousins about the weather.
"Cold out there, huh?"
"Yep. It's winter."
"Yeah, but it's winter in LA, and it's not cold there!"
"Two different places I guess."
"Yeah, but one place is cold, and the other place, well, it just isn't! Isn't that something!?"
Okay, so conversations like that rarely happen to that kind of extreme, but still. I choose to spend Christmas how I want.

That means for the last couple of years I've stayed in New York for Christmas. Because I stay here and it's not where my family lives, I get invited to orphan Christmas.
"You want to come to orphan Christmas dinner?"

"Nope. Orphan is not really a fun word. Sounds terrible."

"Oh, it's not a Christmas for orphans. In this case, YOU'RE the orphan because you won't be with your family, so I'm inviting you to mine."

"So, I'll go, and they'll look at me all day like my family were burned to death in a fire?"

"Sort of. Also, they weren't? Then why aren't you going home?"

Putting the word 'Orphan' in front of anything doesn't make it sound appealing.
"You're cute. You want to have an orphan threesome with me and my friend?"
"I don't even think orphans would want to have an orphan threesome."

I have places I can go, I just choose not to. I'm back and forth to Canada a decent amount, and flying home at Christmas is way too expensive. It cost almost a thousand dollars to get home. Why? Because there's not a lot of direct flights from NY to New Brunswick, and also, it's Christmas. Airlines can charge whatever they want.
"Alright. I need to fly from Halifax to Northern Halifax for Christmas. Let's see how much that would cost. Seven hundred bucks?! It's an hour flight. What the hell, airlines!"
"We're sorry. When you really want to get somewhere during a certain time of year, we raise the prices. Same flight in January would be four hundred dollars less. But, there's no reason to go home in January, now is there? So, will you be checking one bag, or two?"

Also, why is it necessarily sad when someone doesn't go home for Christmas? How do you know what their family Christmas would be like? People sort of assume that you just HAVE to go home for Christmas. If you don't, something must be wrong and you must be the most depressed person on earth.
"You're not going home for Christmas? Wow. You okay? You thinking about ending it all? How are you even able to stop crying long enough to tell me that? Was your family murdered by ninjas on Christmas? I am so truly, truly sorry."
Not all Christmas's or families on Christmas are the way they are shown to us in commercials. Every commercial for Christmas shows a mom and a dad, both wearing terrible sweaters, in a big house with at least two kids, a dog is running around, their tree is massive, and there's so many presents under the tree it'll take until the 26th to open them all. They NEVER show commercials with people living in apartments. Why? Do people in apartments not celebrate Christmas? Do you HAVE to have a set of stairs to run down to really enjoy presents?
"Merry Christmas, guys!"
"Ah, yeah. Thanks, mom. Huuuuh. It's just, I can't fully enjoy this new iPod knowing that I ran two steps down a hall way and then through the kitchen to open it. Hopefully next year, we'll get a real, HUMAN place to live."

I like staying in NY for Christmas. Christmas is the one day a year that I don't feel bad for not doing anything, so I want to take full advantage of that. There's a bunch of places I could go, but if I do, I gotta wear pants, I have to talk to families, I have to not swear. All of those things are fine, and I like doing them, but on Christmas? Man. Adult Christmas has become a real day. I wake up really early, start the day with tons of bacon. I wear sweatpants all day. ALL... DAMN... DAY. I'll probably watch an old wrestling pay per view. Drinking in the afternoon. I probably won't shower. There's no WAY I could do any of that at a persons house with their family.
"Nathan, what are you doing? Aren't you going to get dressed?"
"What? No. It's Christmas! Did you get dressed as a kid when it was Christmas? You're goddamn right you didn't."
"Can you watch your language. There are kids here."
"And I bet they're happy as dick that it's Christmas! I'm putting more egg nog in this rum, and I'm NOT going to eat at a dinner table. Pe, pe, peace!"
I won't be able to enjoy Christmas this way forever. I'll have a family and kid some time. Probably. Who knows. But still, doing Christmas the way I do now at forty two might be a bit weird.

I try to do Christmas the way it was as a kid as much as possible. Christmas as a kid was amazing and that's not coming back. The break from school alone was great. That last day of school before time off for Christmas. Man. Teachers handing out candy canes, movies being played. You could just leave whenever you wanted. Teachers were almost upset that you showed up.
"Ugh, you're here? Don't you have cool friends to smoke drugs in the woods with? God. Alright, I'll put on Gremlins. I would rather be home."
Christmas Eve as a kid was so much fun. It was great to not really be able to sleep because you were so excited about waking up.
"Go to sleep."
"I can't!"
"You have to."
"It's completely impossible! It's Christmas. CHRISTMAS!"
"Santa won't come if you don't go to sleep."
"Well Santa can blow me, because there's no way I'm sleeping! Doesn't he know it's Christmas?! Christmas!"

Christmas does not just have to be in the same living room you did it in when you were five. Christmas is a state of mind. It can be enjoyed anywhere, with anyone, if you really want to. You could have a good Christmas in a bus station. It would take a hell of a lot, but it could happen.

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

Red haired people are different.

My eyebrows are almost completely see through. Why? I have red hair. I always have, and unless I fall into some sort of radioactive vat, or get old enough that it turns grey, I always will. I've grown into it. When I was a kid, I wasn't comfortable with it. I found it embarrassing. I never liked that people would ask questions about it. "Does it match the hair down there?" I never liked that. When I was a kid I wasn't extroverted enough to say, "of course it does!" What the hell else would be down there?!' I never liked being put on the spot about my hair.

As a young kid I was fully different to the other kids. They let me know that I was. People commented on my freckles. I was called random names. Leprechaun, fire crotch. I remember being out with my mom as a kid, and a random woman stopped her and said I looked like a french fry with ketchup on top. She didn't say it maliciously, but as a kid it still makes you feel a way. French fry with ketchup on top! That's one of the farthest things from human that there is.

The term ginger didn't really start until I was out of school. That's typically what people will say now. I hear red haired people calling themselves gingers sometimes. I'm not a fan of it. Stop that shit. It's dumb. It's just trying to fit in with people who call you that trying to make fun of you. I went to a theatre once, and everyone working there had a name tag on that said their name and their favourite movie. A red head dude was working there. What was on his name tag? 'Ginger'. That's it. Didn't even have a favourite movie! Just ginger. Can't even call his 'name tag' a 'name tag'. There's no WAY that he put that there. There's no way he decided to do that. Everyone around him decided that, and so that he could fit in, he went with it. I said to him, "come on, man. Don't let these people treat you this way. You don't even have a movie!" He said, "ahhhh, it's cool." It aint cool, man. Pick a damn movie, and get your damn name on the damn tag.

For some reason people think we all look alike. I've been called every red haired person I think. Conan O'Brien, Bill Burr, Fry from Futurama, Howdy Doody, Chucky, Problem Child, David Caruso, Prince Harry (once). Just about anyone with red haired, I've been called that person. I don't look like ANY of these people/cartoons/puppets. How the hell do you look like a puppet? A wooden puppet? The puppet has freckles on it's face. I don't!

People want to know if you can tan. No. That's not a thing. I suppose maybe, if we tried really hard, got a good base going in a bed or something. But generally speaking? Nope. Just burning and screaming.

When I was about five, I was outside all day and got really burnt. Burnt enough that I had these big blisters on my arm. My mom took me to the hospital (probably freaking out saying, "what the hell is wrong with my son's arm!"), and they put my arm in a cast. A cast for sun blisters. I didn't want to tell people that I had a cast for being burnt. I didn't want to say, "The cast? My arm pretty much cooked from being outside and running the sun." So I told people them that I was hit by a car. That I had held my arm out to cross, and some maniac drove through it and broke it. I wasn't going to tell people my body was too weak for UV rays when I was five. Car hit me! That's the story.

People have told me I can't wear certain things having red hair. No pink, purple, green, orange, red, and any variation of those. Just about nothing. Brown and tan and black. That's what I'm 'allowed' to wear. Woa, sweet. Brown. Thanks. What a fun colour to wear. What do you even wear brown to do? Take a kayaking course? Coach a little league game drunk? Or tan. Tan. What a colour. Something was white, now it's kinda dirty. Tan. Black is for funerals, drive-bys, deep depressions, women coming down marble stair cases, or people who don't know what matches with what. Black, tan, and brown together? Absolutely disgusting. I like wearing colours. Aqua is an awesome colour. So is yellow. Purple is great. Salmon? Get out of here. I used to CRUSH salmon shirts. I don't care what the losers on 'What Not To Wear' would say. Earth tones can blow me.

Red haired women are notoriously loved. Red head men are typically thought of as strange, ugly, woodland creatures that only come out of the trees to play the flute with Satyrs. People have said to me, 'You're good looking for a red head guy." How am I supposed to take that? What am I supposed to say?
"Yes well, you know, I managed to escape before they dragged me to the center of the earth with the other red haired trolls."

Here's a weird thing about having red hair. I'm not a white man. I mean, clearly I am. Red haired people are white people. We are almost the ultimate white people. We can't tan. We are whiter than the average white person. We should be considered white people. But are we? Nope. White people don't refer to us as white. We are 'gingers', 'red heads', 'carrot tops', 'ginger cunts', 'soulless', and any other number of dumb things. The only time white people consider me white is if I'm with a group of black people. Then I'm a white guy. But if I'm with a group of white people, I'm one of those names.

It's only ever white people who have said things to me about it. That's it. Only ones that point it out. White people like to remind me I have red hair as if somehow I forgot. I woke up out of a coma and completely forgot about what has been on top of my head for 28 years.
"You know you have red hair, right?"
"Whhhhhaaaaaaaaattttttt?!!!?? How did this happen!"
Only ones that have ever said anything about it, actually. If black people make fun of me, they'll say something about me being white. It's weird, black people think I'm the whitest of white people, and white people don't consider me white.

A black guy came up to me after a show awhile ago and said,
"Do you know why black people and red haired people get along? Because white people hate us both." Don't know how true that is, but it made me laugh.

'Kick a ginger day' a few years ago really made me angry. I walked around hoping that I got kicked. The thought that people who have red hair were really beat up that day made me so mad. Again, it doesn't seem that we're different, but then things like that will come along and you are reminded that even if you don't think you are, people do. 'Kick a ginger day'. It made the news a bit, but basically it was saying, 'watch out, parents of kids with red hair. They'll kick em!'
If there was 'Kick a black person day', or 'Kick a woman day', or 'Kick a dog day'? There'd be crazy outrage, and rightfully so.

We're different. I'm fine with that. I used to hate having red hair. I love it now. I wouldn't change it now if I could.

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

7 things in fast NY that are not fast.

NewYork City is thought of as a city where everything is fast. That everyone and everything is in a constant state of rush. That if you stop for a second you'll be run over by the stampede of people screaming and sprinting behind you. Well, thats just not true. Not everything in New York is fast, and here are seven[' examples.

1. Pigeons.
Pigeons in NY do what they want to do. They are walking to the beat of their own drum. A lot of other cities pigeons will get out of the way of cars and people. In New York? Nope. They don't move. They've seen people. People don't scare or impress them. I've seen a pigeon cross at a street light. Waited for it to turn green, and it walked. And the pigeon did not walk with any sense of urgency. Pigeons treat NY like they're on vacation at a beach. If I saw a pigeon with a Mai Tai I wouldn't be shocked. If you are behind a pigeon in New York, be prepared to yell, "You serious, bird? Walk faster! Pick up that pizza crust, fly outta here and peck at it somewhere else!"

"You think I need to be anywhere? I'm not moving."

2. People with strollers.
Even though strollers have wheels, and people pushing them could easily tear through the streets, they are not moving at all. Most of the time people with strollers in NY are walking down the middle of the sidewalk. The middle! Just crawling along, taking up the whole thing, stopping every once in awhile to send a text on their phone. Or stopping to make sure they are still walking down the exact middle of the sidewalk. If you get caught behind a stroller in New York, be prepared to yell, "Pull over if you're going to send a text! Would you stop in the middle of the highway to change your radio station? Pull over!"

"I will stop here. This is where I will stop. Right.... here."

3. Cashiers at Starbucks and McDonald's.
So you want to go to one of these places. They are usually fast. And you're in NY, so, it's probably one of THE FASTEST ONES, right? Ah, you've been led astray. Order anything but a regular coffee at Starbucks in NY and you're waiting for the end of a conversation about Kanye before they start making your drink. You order food at McDonald's, and it takes long enough that you'll think the food is going to be real. Maybe? Could it be? No. It's not. It's just a ten minute Big Mac. If you find yourself at a McDonald's or Starbucks in Manhattan, be prepared to yell, "Who cares why Kim Kardashian wore yesterday!? There's more people waiting for what they ordered than ordering. Put it together!"

"Can I get you some speed with that? ... Kidding. You'll get your food when you get it."

4. Couples.
Man. Couples. Couples in this city like to crawl along, holding each other while taking baby sips of their coffees, or hot chocolates, or taking baby bites of a burrito. Falling in love all over again with every step and bite and sip. Love does not move fast. It crawls along. Love songs? Slow. Movies about love? Mostly slow. People in love walking down a street? Slowest.  Love is not quick. That's why your instincts of love don't kick in when you're in danger. If they did, you'd just sit there, trying to hug the tiger that is eating you. If you get stuck behind a couple in New York, be prepared to yell, "This is a busy street, not a John Cusack movie! Pick up your love feet!"

"Get out of the way, couple! Look how many people are behind you!"

5. Tourists.
Tourists  through the city, taking pictures of everything. Buildings, corners of buildings, doors of buildings, doormen of buildings, trees in front of buildings, trees, lobbies of buildings, buildings from different angles. Tourists love to take a lot of pictures of New York buildings. They'll also take random things and snap pictures. You can find a tourist standing in the middle of a busy street taking a picture of an old box of french fries that somebody dropped.  If you get stuck behind some tourists in New York, be prepared to yell, "It's just a half eaten slice of pizza on the ground! You don't need a picture of that!"

"Oh, wow. That's a garbage can. A NY garbage can! Gotta get a picture of me with this leg in front of it!"

6. Couples with a stroller.
Put a couple together with a stroller? Wow, buddy. You're stuck behind two things that don't move. Maybe they'll stop every few seconds to fall in love all over again with each other or the baby. Or arguing with each other sometimes about where they should eat, where the eight month old in the stroller should go to college, or praising that eight month old when they get out of the stroller, stand in the middle of the sidewalk, and fall down. If you get stuck behind a couple with a stroller, be prepared to yell, "Don't let him learn how to walk here! This is 5th Ave, not your living room! And he can't walk, stop talking about what his major will be. His minor right now is crawling."

"Well, what happened was we got stuck behind a couple in a stroller. I din't think we'd ever get out from behind them. Some people didn't. It was really tragic."

7. Subways late at night. 
You'd think these would just be flying around. That it'd be hard to get on one because of how fast the doors are closing. You'd be wrong. After two am, sometimes as early as midnight, these things are SLOW. Maybe they are caught behind a garbage train, a train that is just full of trash that moves slow and looks like it just came straight from hell. Maybe there's a man standing on the track doing construction. "Construction" on a NY subway track is a man with a flash light standing on that train track. If you're waiting for a NY subway train after midnight, be prepared to yell, "What day is it? What year! How long have I been down here?!

"Alright, this train is going to take forever. Let's get limber and do some yoga in the meantime."

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

4 types of videos the Jean Claude Van Damme volvo video is more beautiful than.

I never get excited about videos on the internet. Never. People say all the time 'you have to see this.' Most times I don't check them out. I still haven't seen the video for Gangnam Style. But two days ago I was on facebook, and I noticed a video featuring Jean Claude Van Damme. I'm a fan of that man. Not even really his movies, I just like him. I did really like JCVD, though. Anyway, I clicked on it, and then watched it four more times. It is the most beautiful video online right now. Beats out everything else. Here are four types of beautiful videos that it beats out.

1. Motivational speech videos.
So you've come across a video of a motivational speech that really gets you up. It makes you want to work harder, be a better person, all of that. You deem it to be beautiful. "This beautiful motivational speech has really turned my life around", well, this video is more beautiful. Listen to the speech that Van Damme gives.

"I've had my ups and downs, my fair share of bumpy roads and heavy winds.
Now i stand here before you.What you see is a body crafted to perfection, a pair of legs engineered to define the laws of physics, and a mind set to master, the most epic... of splits."

That's HUGE! That beats anyone saying, "get up earlier. Don't give up. Anything is possible if you just believe in your own arms!" Screw you, bud. Van Damme gave a bad ass speech and then did the splits between two moving trucks. That's motivation.

"He did WHAT? Between two trucks?! Well, damn. I was gonna tell you to never give up but just watch that and believe in yourself!"

2. Love Story videos.
So you've come across a video of a lion and duck who have become friends and play Super Nintendo together, or a video of two whales in the wild making wild, orgasmic whale love. Beautiful, right? Well, this video is more beautiful. Two golden trucks going in reverse while a man does the splits between them, with the sun rising in the background. That sun glistens off these trucks, given off a colour that could only be described as "golden trident meets the light given off by Jesus', while a man DOES THE SPLITS BETWEEN TWO MOVING TRUCKS. Plus Enya playing over top of the whole thing? The most beautiful video on the internet.

"It's okay. This whole Van Damme video will blow over soon and people will look at us again... When we grow up, please don't eat me."

3. Uplifting Story videos.
So you've come across a story of a man who decided that he was going to single handedly help every parakeet in the word with a debilitating disease. Or a woman finds true love when she gives change to a homeless guy. Beautiful, right? Well, this video is more beautiful. Van Damme is a man whose made a career with his body pretty much. He's not in movies as much anymore. He could just gain a bunch of weight and not train. Does he do that? Nope. He keeps all of that up, AND can still CRUSH the splits at 53! That's beautiful. Most people when their career takes a bit of a dip run right to a box of donuts. This man? Kept hitting the gym and training. Beautiful.

"Why do I look sad? Because this video is not as beautiful as Van Damme doing the splits between two trucks. I'm serious. I knew I should have pushed to get my hair cut between two flying 747's. Dammit."

4. Twerking Videos.
So you've come across a video of a gorgeous woman with a beautiful ass shaking it for two and a half minutes to a Tyga song. Beautiful, right? Probably the most beautiful thing on the internet? Nope. This video is more beautiful. What's more beautiful than a man crossing his arms while doing the spits between two trucks? Isn't it possible to achieve an erection from a twerk video and the man who played Guile doing the splits between two trucks? Okay. Maybe not. When there's a video of a woman twerking between two Bugatti's we'll be having a different conversation.

"Okay, okay. Here's what happened. I was trying to clean the top of the piano, and I fell off and I... could you take a picture real quick? I bet my ass looks amazing like this."

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

4 reasons you want a crackhead as your mayor.

Toronto mayor Rob Ford this week admitted to smoking crack. Some mayors are terrible and have never smoked crack. Is having a crackhead as a mayor the worst thing? Don't think so. Here are some reasons having a crackhead mayor could be a good thing.

4 Reasons you want a crackhead as your mayor

1. Crack heads are industrious.
A crackhead wakes up one day, realizes they have nothing left to pawn, no money, no one left to borrow from. What's a crackhead to do? Throw them self in front of a moving car so they can sue the driver for crack money. It happens. You have to be dedicated for that kind of move. Now imagine if that crackhead was mayor and wanted better roads for their city, more buses, or cleaner streets? They'd be jumping in front of all kinds of cars to get those things. A crackhead is not going to let someone tell them there's no money for city parks if they become hell bent on money for the parks. Park money will be found no matter what.

"I want a subway line that stretches to the airport! I'm not leaving until I have it! I'll suck your dick!"

2. Crack heads work all hours of the night.
I'm sure most mayors work long, hard hours. I'm sure a lot are up until the early morning trying to get things done for their cities. But when they do go to bed, who is still up getting their work done? Crackheads. Crackheads are up all hours, scurrying around their neighbourhood looking for ways to make money and ultimately buy crack. All night. Until the job is done. If a mayor had their kind of get up and go, they wouldn't sleep until the money for public education was scrounged up. If a mayor was a crackhead and got stuck on the idea of helping out the band department, they'd be tearing copper wire out of construction sites and selling it back to them for profit. You WISH your mayor would tear copper out of a wall and sell it. Your city might have a new football stadium.

 "I was up all night, I'm tired as hell, but those kids can now go on their field trip. Now, who needs a goodnight dick sucking?"

3. If city money is missing, you know where it went.
Sometimes a mayor will take the cities money and do who knows what with it. Could be hundreds of thousands of dollars on coffee. Maybe it's prostitutes on a private jet to Fiji. Or maybe they bought themselves an autographed poster of Adam West. Who knows. But when it comes time to do something for the city, and the mayor says there is no money, people will yell, "well where the hell did the money go!?" No need for that question if your mayor is on crack. You already know the answer. Crack. Tons and tons of glorious crack. Why is this pothole still here? Oh yeah. The mayor smoked that pothole money. Why's there only one bus in the city? Ah, yes. Crack. Now you can get on with your day.

"Where'd the money go? What do you mean? Crack! I'm on crack! I'll suck your dick if you stop asking that question!"

4. Crackheads know how to deal with tough situations.
Crackheads have been through some tough times. Families have disowned them, they've lost some teeth to the crack trade, and they've woken up smelling like chemicals. So do you think they'll let something like opposition to their ideas rattle them? Absolutely not. They'll crumble under the pressure of questioning by the media? Doubt it. They've blown a dude behind a Denny's for a drug that shattered their molars. They can deal with criticism. They're not going to let unions push them around. A mayor who went to a good school could be tough, but a mayor who climbed three stories to steal an iPad to pawn? THAT'S a tough mayor.

"Oh, yeah, you're a tough man. You ever suck dick to get a guy off your drive way? Well I'm gonna do it like this! Look at my face! I'll suck your dick!"

Twitter @nathanmacintosh