I am a colossal pain in the ass.

Not for the sake of being annoying, but for the sake of making sure that any project that crosses my desk is mechanically and editorially sound.

My first boss in advertising, after having taught me mechanical paste-up and Mac-based layout, told me that I'd be most effective in my career if I learned how to do everyone else's job. I took that to heart. Over the last 16 years, I have participated on the account side and written/collaborated on copy. I'm not 100% expert in the other disciplines within an ad agency, but I'm sure-footed enough to know when something needs a course-correction—and I always fight for what's right. The problem is, I take it to extremes. I don't like losing a fight, especially when I feel like I'm having my hand forced by people who don't really know what the hell they're doing.

I grew up watching M*A*S*H, and Hawkeye Pierce is a hero of mine. He's always a smug smartass who people don't always seem to get, but they sure as hell want him in the operating room when they're in the shit. Captain Pierce, I salute you.

Listening to 1988 Superman animated series soundtrack. Mike Post influenced a lot of music, lol. Where is Ron Jones today?

Escalators at Penn Station

I'm consistently baffled by the inability of the riders of the escalators at Penn Station to:

A. STAND on the right. PASS on the left.

B. Wait your melon-farming* turn to get on. Especially on the right-hand side of the right-hand escalator on the 32nd street exit. Some douchebag decided to motor all the way to the front of the line by Staples and cut off about 15 of us who waited in an orderly fashion to board said escalator. He must have been very important. Why, without your crown and cape, your majesty--I just can't recognize you.

*melon-farming replaces the "oedipal expletive," which rhymes with "brother-trucking" in this instance.

The Best Joke Ever

Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?
Because he was dead.

Donald Duck

Spent a chunk of time between washing and drying two weeks worth'a laundry watching some Donald Duck cartoons. Donald Duck makes me feel a bit better about myself, as his anger management problems are measurably worse than my own. You know some s--- is about to go down the moment you hear Donald say, "so?!?" It's his battle cry. The "Deus lo volt" of the fowl. Almost as good of a plot device as when Curly hears "Pop Goes the Weasel." Irascible characters make me smile.