Pretzel Day translates 50 Cent

I have been friends with rapper 50 Cent for several years. We grew up in the same neighborhood in rural Effingham, Illinois. We were practically connected at the hip. We did everything young boys from Effingham do. We milked cows, washed the pigs, collected eggs from the chickens, sheared some sheep, saddle the horses, shot the bison, and teased the rabbits. (The first two things were farm related tasks, the last five are all euphemisms for hooking up with women.)

Anywho, as you know, around Fifty’s seventh birthday his dad sold his farm and moved his family to Jamaica. I tried to visit him a couple times, but I didn’t have his Jamaican address. A few more years passed and I realized Fifty now resided in South Jamaica in Queens, New York. “My b,” I told Fifty.

After I figured out his new location, I went out there to visit him. He had fallen into a new crowd. A fast crowd. I went out there to celebrate my birthday and things got out of hand. He kept calling me “Shorty.” He kept asking me to drink Bicardi, but I was all like, “Yo, Fifty, we’re like nine.” He told me to eff myself. I was pissed. But enough time has passed and my wounds have healed. We’re friends again. Not like we were before, but maybe we’ll get there one day.

I know plenty of white people don’t understand rap. I get it. It’s confusing. While I myself am technically white, my background with Fifty allows me to understand him in ways others who share my skin tone cannot. I will now help you all understand Fifty Cent’s “If I Can’t.”

Things I am sorry for

Easter is just around the corner. As a result, I think it’s high time I clear my conscience and issue a round of apologies. The following is me spilling my guts.

Thanks, Annoying People for ruining the word ‘epic’

Before I get started into the recent etymology of  the word epic, I would like to begin by greeting any Australian visitors this blog might have.

G’day! (I know, terribly cliche. I’m not happy I wrote that either.) My name is Peter. Any friend of Jay’s is a friend of mine. I’ve seen Crocodile Dundee, like, seven times. Furthermore, I’ve seen Crocodile Dundee 2 about five times. Crocodile Dundee 3, I only saw once. It wasn’t very good. I’m sorry. Please don’t tell Paul Hogan. On the other hand, I’m a huge fan of Colin Hay. Love it. Also, Scrubs which Jay says is huge over there.

We are not so different, American and Australia. We both begin with the letter A. We both were started by the Brits. We both have universal healthcare. (Almost) In conclusion, I hope you guys like Jay. But back to the topic at hand.

Hi, Adam Sandler. Why so serious?

This post is NOT a critique of Adam Sandler. I don’t know him very well, but I generally like him. I enjoy his movies. I liked Happy Gilmore and Billy Madison. I never saw Paul Blart: Mall Cop, but I heard it was better than you’d expect.

I even like Sandler’s more serious films. I loved Funny People. Apparently, that makes me a minority. (I hope that makes me eligible for affirmative action.  I could use some breaks.) I have only met three other people who liked that movie. Literally. I don’t get it. It wasn’t funny like The Forty Year Old Virgin but it wasn’t supposed to be. It had heart. It was about learning to be happy with yourself. Whatever.

Regardless, unlike most people I do not have an issue with Funny People. I do, however, have an issue with another one of Adam Sandler’s serious films. Click. In my mind, Click is the least realistic of all Adam Sandler movies.

Special Guest Contributor

Pretzel Day gets a TON of fan mail. Literally a ton. It’s difficult to sort through it all. However, sometimes we get outstanding sample pieces and are asked to put them up on Pretzel Day. The following is a guest submission from a mysterious, unnamed author. We’ll call him “Marcus Twain.” Marcus, apparently, still believes it to be the year 2001 as he chose to write on the 2000 Presidential Election. No word yet when he (or she) will write a follow up piece discussing Y2k or “the internet.” Anyway, the following is Pretzel Day’s very first guest submission. If you would like to guest write, conduct Jay, Peter, or Robbie.

My Perfect Spring Break

A lot of people are talking about spring break. This makes sense. After all, ’tis the season. (Just as an aside, I absolutely abuse the phrase “tis the season.” Literally, I abuse that phrase. I use it multiple times every season. In July if someone says, “Boy, it’s hot.” I’ll shrug and say, “Tis the season.” In October and someone comments about the changing leaves. “Tis the season.” Winter and it’s cold. Boom. Season.)

People always ask me, “Peter, what’s your ideal spring break? What would you do? What would it entail?”

This is me answering that question.

You know what? I’m glad the Olympics are over.

My week as Jim Halpert is over. The Olympics are over. Jay Leno is back on The Tonight Show. The first and third things make me sad, but the second one makes me kind of happy.

My Life as Jim Halpert: The Long Overdue Conclusion

I promised daily postings about my week as Jim Halpert. I started off strong, delivering four adequate posts Monday-Thursday. Then, I sorta fell apart. Life got in the way. Or, to be more specific, one of the greatest movies I have ever seen, got in the way.

I am, of course, speaking about Shutter Island. Starring Leonardo DiCaprio, the movie debuted last Friday and I caught a 10:20 showing. Wow. I can’t really talk about the plot or why I found it so interesting without giving away details. But, man, that’s a movie.

When the movie let out around one, I was in no mood to write about my day. After having watched a movie of that quality, I could not bring myself to write. Scorcese just showed me how to move people emotionally with art. Pretzel Day is a first grader’s coloring book in comparison to Martin’s Mona Lisa.

Alas, enough time has passed so I now feel comfortable writing again.

My Life as Jim Halpert: Day 4

Today, I found myself with a chunk of extra time in the middle of the day. So, I decided to watch the Olympics.

Before the Olympics, I was lukewarm on the whole ordeal. Winter sports are generally boring. Cross country skiing is beyond boring. Speed skating is frightening. The “half pipe” sounds like something a pothead would use to get high. That said, the whole thing is actually pretty cool. Nationalism, in general, leads to some pretty interesting things.

During my mid-afternoon break, the United States was taking on Denmark in curling. I realized one thing: I really like curling. Jim Halpert agrees.

My Life as Jim Halpert: Day 3

One of the things I most like about Jim Halpert, is his lack of many prototypical “manly” characteristics.  Granted, he is good at basketball and as the picture to the left shows, can grow a great deal of chest hair. Those are traditionally manly qualities which I currently lack, but hope to one day possess.

But, as a whole, Jim lacks many alpha male characteristics. He’s shy. Awkward at times. Has troubles telling girls how they really feel about him.* He isn’t particularly suave or James Bond-esque. He’s just there. He is shockingly similar to me.

(*Full disclosure: I can’t really say I have trouble telling girls how I feel about them. One time a couple years ago I told a girl I loved her within a few weeks of meeting her. True story.)