JOEL DAVID NewsOK.com Blogging Community

Remember how I stated in a previous entry that my wealth is an inevitability? You don’t? Well maybe you should have read what I wrote earlier.

Anyway, turns out that I didn’t have to wait long. I won the lottery! And not that crummy state lottery either. I won the 3rd category in the International Lottery! Don’t believe me? Well I have the original e-mail to prove it. Read it and weep poor people!

FROM: MRS. ASIA CHERRY (Asia Cherry is clearly a name synonymous with a professional working for an official international office. It’s also a name synonymous with an available scent of car air fresheners. Who am I to judge though? Thanks to Asia Cherry I’m rich!)
International Lotto Office De Padua (Where or what the hell is De Padua?)
Padova 45233, ITALY. (Oh. Thanks.)
Dear Sir/Madam,
WINNING NOTIFICATION
We happily announce to you the draw of 2007 International Lottery programs held on the 8th of July in Rome Italy. Your e-mail address attached to ticket number: 4545 100 which subsequently won you the lottery in the 3rd category. (3rd category lottery winner?! Sweet!)
You have therefore been approved to claim a total sum of US$820,000.00 in cash credited to file 998452. This is from a total cash prize of US $1100,000,00 Million dollars. (Holy crap! Eleven hundred thousand hundred million dollars?! Wow! That sure sounds like a lot of money!)

Please note that your lucky winning number falls within our Afro booklet representative office in S. Africa. (Because why wouldn’t an Italian company have it’s offices in S. Africa?)

Our African agent will immediately commence the process to facilitate the release of your funds as soon as you contact him. (I better call this guy quick because I want my share of eleven hundred thousand hundred million dollars!)

For security reasons, you are advised to keep your winning information confidential till your claims is processed and your money remitted to you in whatever manner you deem fit to claim your prize. (Uh, I deem I receive my cut of eleven hundred thousand hundred million dollars in giant sacks with dollar signs printed on them.)

This is part of our precautionary measure to avoid double claiming and unwarranted abuse of this program by some unscrupulous elements. (Damned unscrupulous elements)

Please be warned. (I’ve been warned.)

If you¢re not up to 18 years you are automatically disqualify. (Up to 18? Wait. I’m OVER 18. Oh man. If they try to screw me out of my share of eleven hundred thousand hundred million dollars I’m gonna have a few choice words for Mrs. New Car Smell or Asia Cherry or whatever her name is.)

To file for your claim, please contact our corresponding agent in Africa before August 30th 2007 for quick and urgent release of your fund, PROF DAVIES MOYO. (Whoa. A professor? Of what? Lottery winnings? “Yeah, look when you’re done with your physics lecture can you go ahead and answer those e-mails Asia Cherry sent out? Yes. The Italian woman. I don’t know why the official offices are here on the campus of S. Africa University either but you knew when you accepted tenure here you’d have to do all sorts of things so go ahead and get on it Professor Moyo.” How do you think the professor bends his legs? With his Moyo-Knees. It sounds like mayonnaise. That’s the joke. Sheesh.)
P.M.B 1090 JOHANESSBURG, SOUTH AFRICA
TELE: +27-782-25-44-16 (How the hell do I dial a + sign?!)
E-mail: profdaviesmoyoo@mighty.co.za
Please fill the form below and send it to the claims agent in South Africa immediately.
NAME Joel David (Kind of)
COMPANY NAME: Ford. Oh. A company I work for? Joel’s Laugh Emporium and Sock Warehouse
SEX: Yes please. ZING! Never gets old, that joke. Oh. It does get old? Sorry.
OCCUPATION: Super fantastic lottery winner. Clearly!
COUNTRY: These here United States.
E-MAIL : I thought you guys already had that.
Congratulations once more from all members and staffs of this program that has successfully won this competition. (Well thanks for the congratulations, members and staffs who has successfully won this competition I didn’t know I was a part of.)
Your’s Sincerely (Your is sincerely? Really? I’m beginning to doubt the legitimacy of this e-mail.)
MRS. ASIA CHERRY
Italia Zonal Co-coordinator.
MR. LARRY SMITH (THE Larry Smith?! Wow!)
U.k zonal Secretary

Well it’s been fun writing for free but now all you suckers must bow before me and my massive cut of eight hundred thousand hundred million dollars!

Wait. This wasn’t even sent to my e-mail. My ex-girlfriend sure is a lucky woman. As lucky as a woman can be who has me breaking into her house to check her e-mail all the time can possibly be.

YOWZA!

- Joel David

I will be wealthy. This is an inevitability. This is because I’m a creative genius and incredibly talented. More than likely I will be wealthy as a result of my ingenious “wordsmithing”. See. I just made a word up. That’s how talented I am. I just pulled a word out of the thin air surrounding my brain.

With the knowledge that I will be wealthy, I know exactly how I will spend my wealth. I will write and produce movies that are funny yet heartfelt. I will be Oklahoma’s own version of Judd Apatow. I will also purchase a nice house, make sure my mom and family will never have to worry about money ever again and also take care of my close friends. Since I’m aware of how I will spend it, I am also aware of how I won’t spend it.

I know that I won’t spend it on things that only allow me to impress people I don’t care about with my blatant show of wealth. These thoughts came about as I watched a report on NBC affiliate KFOR 4 this evening about things the super wealthy in Oklahoma can purchase with their wealth. Among the items included in the report were things to pamper your pet with, expensive liquors, and exotic cars. Take that homeless folks!

Whenever I see someone spending more than forty bucks on anything involving their pet that doesn’t pertain to that pet’s health, I am reminded of comedian David Cross and his line about people who leave their inheritance to their cat providing that cat with a lifetime of eating out of crystal goblets. He said, “A cat can’t tell the difference between a crystal goblet and a sh– lined shoe box.” I couldn’t agree more. Animals are to be cared for and loved but for the love of god, if you spend more on your pet than you would on a philanthropic endeavor, you should probably recheck your priorities. If you must spend four hundred bucks on an animal related item, go ahead and spend three bucks on a rubber chew toy and give the other three hundred and ninety-seven bucks to the SPCA. This not only makes your pet happy but it also saves the lives of other animals. Personally I can’t see spending money on something that doesn’t better my life, or the lives of others and I don’t care who you are, a faux mink dog bed doesn’t do anything for anyone. That is assuming that you aren’t buying it for a tiny homeless person. If that’s the case, then by all means go for it.

The KFOR story also showed a twenty thousand dollar cocktail that is served at Café Nova. I found it funny that a high class bar shares a name with a low class Chevy. The twenty thousand dollar cocktail was a vodka on the rocks that comes with a limousine ride and a diamond ring. Why that’s a deal at twice the price! Why? Because with an expensive price tag applied to something, you might forget that it is little more than one drink, a ride in a car and a rock. Money makes everything seem cooler than it really is!

Finally, the piece profiled a car dealership that specialized in expensive sports cars. The kind of cars you see in rap videos. The kind of cars that middle aged men drive in order to woo younger women who will claim to love them for their personality but who really just love these men for their bank balance. I’m not saying having a nice car isn’t important, but really? Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars for a car is ridiculous. “Well you just say that because you don’t have it to spend on a car.” Just because I will have it doesn’t mean I’m going to go out and spend the equivalent of three nice houses on something that can get me to my destination just as well as an Altima could. Besides, if I get in an accident in an Altima I’m not out three hundred and fifty thousand dollars unless I got a really bad deal on a Nissan.

Perhaps I have this point of view concerning wealth because I didn’t grow up wealthy, but I don’t think that’s the case. I think that my thought process is more of one that questions people having to spend an insane amount of money on something that doesn’t buy them one extra moment on this planet. I’m not angry at the rich. I get it. I’ve dealt with the wealthy in my lifetime and more often than not they are bitter and angry and constantly try to put everyone in their place because they can’t relate to the people beneath them, which they seem to think is everyone, so they go ahead and needlessly persecute those people. They don’t want to be told they’re rich but they don’t want to appear cheap either. It’s a paradox that some constantly have to deal with. It’s a small price to pay I guess.

Before you fire off an angry missive on your gold plated laptop, I’m not condemning all wealthy people at all. Look at the great work that people like Bill Gates and Jay-Z do for people. These are people who came from nothing and I’m sure they spend money on extravagant things, but they do some good for the world too.

With my wealth I will buy my mom and siblings houses. I will pay off my friend’s mortgages. I will give strangers money. I will provide for the creative among us a life that is conducive to their focusing on their art and not a life full of worrying about things like rent or phone bills. I will provide them with the things that really matter in life. A place to live. The freedom to create. Basically I want to provide security for the ones I care for the most and isn’t that what’s most important?

I dunno. A few twenty thousand dollar cocktails might be pretty sweet too.

RIGHT NOW

SONG - Imagine by John Lennon. The best blueprint for a euphoric and peaceful life ever laid out in three minutes and four seconds. Thank you John.

MOVIE - Millions - Director Danny Boyle’s brilliant movie about a young boy who finds a million pounds. I mean British pounds which is good because if it was the other kind of pounds they could have just called the movie “Brando’s Corpse”.

YOWZA!

- Joel David

I woke up this morning and headed to Mercy for a check up at my doctor’s office. That doctor’s visit lead to surgery number 15. This time it was on an area that is detrimental to one’s sitting. Wow does it hurt. For those of you keeping track of the stitches I have in me at this moment, here is the latest count.

3 in my stomach
2 in my chest
2 in my neck

So currently I have 7 stitches in me not including whichever stitches are underneath the pound and a half of gauze taped to my nether region at the moment.

I had surgery at Mercy Hospital today, which isn’t my preferred surgery location. Also, I’m way too young to have a preference of surgery locations. While the people at Mercy are nice, the staff at Specialists Surgery Center is my pick for my favorite surgical staff. This might be because I’ve been in there so many times, but I don’t think so. They are all really nice and quite helpful. I’ve seen those people more than I’ve seen some of my own friends.

They always joke with me and are really nice. That’s good too because sitting in a chair wearing nothing but a purple hospital gown made of paper can be a dignity reducing experience. It’s gotten to the point that I know the people up there by name. I notice when certain pictures have been moved. It’s like I work there but don’t get paid in anything but pain and scars.

Don’t get me wrong. The folks at Mercy were nice but I don’t know them as well as I do the staff at SSC. When I had surgery today at Mercy part of me felt like I was cheating on the staff at Specialists. These are the weird types of things that go through my head when I’m about to have surgery. The other weird thing I thought today pre-surgery was when I noticed there was a crucifix in the operating room. One of the nurses asked if I needed a warm blanket. I told her I didn’t but that little tiny Jesus looked like he may need one. I figured that was the least of tiny Jesus’ problems. “Did you want a blanket, lord?” “Uh, no. I’ll tell you what I could go for though. Me not being on this cross. That would be something I’d like over a warm blanket.”

See. I’m weird like that.

So at this point in my life I’m tired of the surgeries. Weird, I know. Every time I have surgery I think about how cool it would be to be a surgeon because they make a lot of money. Then I remember all the education and money it takes to get to that point so I’ll just stick with my dream of being a doctor on TV. It worked for George Clooney and as anyone who knows me can attest to, Clooney and I look exactly alike. That’s assuming my friends are blind or liars.

My doctor will be out of town for the next two weeks so hopefully nothing else happens because his surgical partner is super old. He got his medical degree in 1956. Someone should tell him about this new thing called ‘retirement’. My doctor is going to Japan. He told me he would have to bring me something from Japan. I told him to come back with some sort of Asian remedy for my malady. I told him I didn’t care what it was. “Crushed goat hooves will cure Joel? Well alrighty”.

I feel that my attitude through this whole thing has been pretty positive. I rarely speak highly of myself but I’m handling this debacle a lot better than I thought I would. I mean it’s not like I had anything going on anyway. All those girls I’m not dating are sure to be disappointed.

So the lesson? Don’t write a blog entry at 1 in the morning high on pain pills.

RIGHT NOW

SONG - “You Know I’m No Good” by Amy Winehouse - her Back in Black album is one of the best albums of the year. She has got more soul than a fat man’s shoe. Get it? ‘Soul’ sounds like ‘sole’ which you find on a shoe! Man that’s hilarious. Stupid pain pills.

MOVIE - High Fidelity - I’m too tired to think of anything else right now.

- Joel David

I am addicted to My Space. It’s not an unhealthy addiction like my addiction to crack or glue but I never thought it would get to the point that it has. I originally used it as a means to get my name out into the public domain. I did this because spray painting my name on overpasses and dumpsters just wasn’t doing the trick. “Are you the Joel who spray paints their name on everything? Let’s make out!” is something no one has ever said to me. Well not anyone I’d want to make out with. I might not be able to afford to have discerning taste when it comes to the making out, but I draw the line at homeless dudes. Sorry.

After initially creating a My Space profile I started searching for people that I hadn’t talked to in years. Relatives I’d lost touch with. Friends I had thought I’d never speak with again. My Space brought those people back into my life, for better or worse. It was cool to use the internet as a link to my past and not just for watching videos of weird Germans doing whatever it is that apparently turns on other weird Germans.

After awhile I noticed that I had a whole slew of “friends”. Webster, the dictionary, not the cute little black child from the sitcom of the same name, defines a friend as a person who one likes, knows or trusts. That’s interesting because I currently have 207 “friends”. I decided to go through my friends list to see who I actually knew, liked or trusted.

Of the 207 friends I have I really only know 120 of them. By “know” I mean I have spoken with or seen these people within the past few months. This includes speaking by phone or e-mail. There are some celebrities on the list who are also my friends. Matthew Brown, Jason Black, Spencer Hicks, Beau “The Suit” Leland, Deacon Gray, Rob Little, Joel Panther and Chris Dowell just to name drop a few. I would include myself but I’m not a celebrity yet. Give it time and I’ll be having my birthday listed at the end of Entertainment Tonight before you know it. “What large headed celebrity is celebrating a birthday today? John Mayer, Joel David or Brad Pitt? If you guessed Joel David you’re right!”

Of my 207 friends I’ve dated 3 of them. Both the first and last girls I’ve kissed are on the list. And no, it wasn’t the same person. Shocking, I know. All 3 of them are married and have kids now. That means I’m a great starter boyfriend because it’s good to get that first horrible relationship out of the way and that’s where I come in apparently. I’m like the dress rehearsal relationship guy.

The remaining 87 “friends” are celebrities that I’m a fan of. Some of them I’ve seen live like Fiona Apple, who I wish I knew a lot better than being My Space friends. Sweet but crazy Fiona. Why there are celebrities on my list is beyond me. I mean it’s not like they even know who I am. Yet.

So I suppose that My Space has shown me that I have at least 207 people who wanted me to be their friend. Or vice versa. I know, like or trust 120 of them. In reality the remaining 87 aren’t real friendships. It’s just a combination of 1’s and 0’s coming together on My Space. I know a lot of good people in real life that don’t have a My Space profile. I suppose My Space is a better way to waste time than watching reruns of Three’s Company. Not by much though.

If you want to be my friend click here. If you don’t that’s cool too. I mean you’d only be stroking my already enormous ego.

RIGHT NOW

SONG - Valentine by Old 97’s - “It’s a lonely, lonely, feeling when your valentine was wrong.” It’s also a lonely, lonely feeling sitting in a van across the street watching the house of the girl you thought was your valentine. I’m just saying. Stupid Fiona.

MOVIE - Idlewild - This movie got mixed reviews when it came out but I found it to be enjoyable which means you probably will too. This is assuming you’re anything like me which I really hope for your case you are. It’s great to be me! How can you be more like me you didn’t ask? Buy hats that are too small for you, be mediocre with women, and be hilarious. I’m talking funny beyond belief hilarious. Like the type of hilarious that only god has blessed a very few of us with. You might be a ball cap wearing ladies man but you’re probably not funny. I win!

Kind of.

- Joel David

Two nights ago my friend Adam and I went to IHOP for a cup of coffee. It was good to get out of the house after having been laid up for so long due to the litany of surgeries I’d gone through. Little did I know I’d have to have my fourteenth surgery the following day, but I’ll get to that later.

Adam and I had been sitting at the IHOP discussing important issues. Issues involving hypothetical battles between Voltron and Godzilla and which of the two was more capable in achieving victory if such a battle were to ensue. We were in deep conversation when the peace was shattered by a group of angry lesbians that had been seated at a booth near us.

Understand that I’m a liberal Democrat who thinks it’s unfair to assume things about people without actually speaking to them first. It’s not cool to label people and when you do you are usually incorrect ninety-nine percent of the time. This was the one percent of the time it was okay to assume things about people without talking with them. I could tell they were lesbians because it looked like a table full of flannel shirt wearing, smaller versions of Toby Keith. It was also okay to assume they were angry because they wouldn’t stop berating the waiter. They did this at a volume loud enough for everyone in ear shot to hear. “I didn’t get my ketchup and she didn’t get her ranch. We’d better get free dessert!” It got so bad that the manager had to go over and speak to the table. That didn’t help because tables don’t have ears. He then spoke to the women at the table and all the manager accomplished was making the manliest of the group even angrier, and while an IHOP manager has to put up with what I imagine to be an ungodly amount of rude customers, an angry lesbian exacting her syrup fueled revenge on someone isn’t somehing I’d wish on anyone.

The waiter didn’t deserve the treatment he was receiving. He was a good waiter. He was attentive and did a great job. The table o’ angry gals was just making a scene to try to get free food. I know this because one of them had said so loud enough for everyone to hear. Revealing that nugget of information is the one thing you shouldn’t talk about when trying to execute your master plan of getting free pancakes.

After they got their check, everyone around them was relieved because we all knew they’d be leaving. A quiet calm fell over the area but was soon shattered by the sound of something actually shattering. I turned around and noticed that a pile of bowls and plates full of the remnants of the angry lesbian’s meal had crashed to the ground. They had knocked their dishes off the table on purpose. The waiter ran over to the table and apologized, despite it not being his fault and rather the fault of the perfect storm of angry lesbians full of pancakes combined with gravity. After his apology the angriest of the bunch said “Well if you’d uh done yer job right and got the dishes sooner this wouldn’t have happened.” It was at this point that everyone in the restaurant made some sort of exasperated noise.

As the “mantourage” left in an angry fit, we were all still relieved they had gone. I felt great empathy for the waiter. I asked him if they got any part of their meal for free and he said his manager gave them nothing for free. I told the waiter that he should have written off the meal but charged them fifty bucks for each broken dish.

So what is the point of this story? Angry lesbians and pancakes need not mix lest dishes pay the price. Well, dishes and everyone who had to sit through that debacle.

Moving on.

I had my fourteenth surgery yesterday. The answer to the question you didn’t ask is, yes. Yes it is getting old.

I’m off to go rest now. I’ll expound on my surgery situation later. Probably when Saved by the Bell is over.

- Joel David

This morning I awoke to another glorious day in these United States. As I do every morning, after I listened to my favorite Toby Keith album, I walked over to my window and opened the blinds that overlook the golf course near my house. Every morning I see middle aged, fat, white guys playing golf. Men who should probably be paying more attention to their wives and kids, but the shortcomings of middle aged men is best left for another time. Also, so should my overall disdain with the works of Toby Keith.

As I stared at the lush green course, I noticed a creature near a large pond on the course. It was a creature I’d never seen before. Dear god. Is that? Wow. A coyote. I couldn’t believe my enormous eyes. I know I live in Oklahoma but a coyote on a golf course? Part of me hoped that it would attack one of the bloated golfers and then the golfer would have an epiphany and realize that not even golf is better than waking up next to the woman you love. That’s assuming the fat golfer loves his wife. Never mind.

I kept looking out my window periodically throughout the morning at the coyote. He was standing in the same spot like a noble beast of the land standing guard over his domain like a mangy lion. A very small lion, but a lion nonetheless. He peered over a domain made of fake hills and man made ponds. A domain that isn’t really all that conducive to wild animals.

An hour or so passed and I kept looking out the window at the coyote and he remained in the same exact spot while golfers played cautiously near it. The golfers seemed to be taken aback but un-phased. It was amazing how stoic this beast appeared. I even Googled coyotes to see if they have some sort of ability to stand in the same spot for long periods of time. Nope.

I decided to look for my binoculars to get a closer look at this creature of the wild. These are the same binoculars I use for all of my other wildlife observations which I say only as a way to make me seem more of a clever observer of the wild and not some creep with binoculars. I found them and peered into them at the coyote. What a mangy creature he was. His face was spotted and he resembled a dingo. He seemed to be smaller than I thought but he was still a bit fierce looking. I thought it odd that this coyote was able to stand on one leg as well as three of his legs weren’t even touching the ground. What a discovery I’d found. A coyote with the dexterity of a 12 year old Asian acrobat girl you see on TV. Wait. Wait. Something was wrong.

A man approached the floating coyote. Here it comes! Not only was I looking at a coyote who could stand on one leg but I was gonna see someone get mauled by this acrobatic specimen of wildlife. He moved it. He simply picked it up and move it. Turns out it wasn’t real. It is some sort of deterrent to who or whatever is deterred by fake coyotes.

And that’s what made me feel like a winner today.

Thanks a lot realistic coyote decoy makers.

- Joel David

Scooter Libby has had his 30 month prison sentence commuted by conservative president George W. Bush! The lesson to learn here is that if you know someone who might end up being president, kiss up to them now because down the road you might get convicted of federal crimes such as perjury, obstruction of justice and lying to investigators, and need to avoid that pesky prison sentence. A prison sentence that is handed out under the laws of this country, by the judicial system of this country, that our elected leaders are sworn to uphold.

Unless you’re George W. Bush.

Congratulations Scooter!

I cannot wait for president Obama.

- Joel