Wearing Sandals with Socks On

I’ll be turning thirty in a month. My twenties will be over. I will be considered an old man by everyone that is still in high school. And I’ve already decided that I’ll start wearing sandals with socks on. I know that it’s a fashion faux pas, but I’ll be too old to give a fuck anymore. I won’t care about looking cool, I’ll only care about being comfortable. And wearing sandals with socks on seems mighty comfortable. That’s why so many dads and grandpas dress like that. I won’t start sporting a fanny pack until I’m in my forties, but I’ll use my thirties to start getting acquainted with the geezer style of dress. That begins with wearing sandals with socks on and grows from there. Trust me, if I could stay sockless and in my twenties forever I would, but now it’s time to grow up and rock Crocs with socks. I guess this is growing up.

Critically Rated at 6/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Undeclared

Undeclared is a Fox sitcom that served as the follow-up to Judd Apatow’s earlier cult hit series, Freaks and Geeks. In case you’ve been living under a rock, Apatow is the genius that has written, directed, or produced some of the best comedies Hollywood has to offer. He brought us The Cable Guy, Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy, The 40-Year-Old Virgin, Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, Knocked Up, Superbad, Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Step Brothers, Pineapple Express, Bridesmaids… the list goes on and on. Freaks and Geeks and Undeclared were some of his earliest projects and they laid a solid foundation for his career.

Undeclared is a half-hour sitcom about freshman Steven Karp’s (Jay Baruchel) first year at college. Seth Rogen, Charlie Hunnam, and Timm Sharp play his roommates. Carla Gallo, Monica Keena, and Tina Ellroy play the girls living in the dorm across the hall. The two groups band together and deal with all your typical college shenanigans like sex, dating, drinking, parents, partying, playing Truth or Dare, prank wars with fraternities and disgruntled R.A.s, and gaining the dreaded Freshman Fifteen. The comedic style is mostly loose and improvised, relying more on character wit than sight gags. There is no laugh track or studio audience. It’s not the game changer that Freaks and Geeks was, but it’s a funnier and sharper show.

It’s impossible to watch this show and not be reminded of Freaks and Geeks. Seth Rogen has a starring role in both shows, Jason Segel guest stars in a few episodes, and Busy Phillips, Martin Starr, Samm Levine and other Freaks and Geeks alumni pop up occasionally. There are tons of other cameos and guest spots from actors and comedians that you know and love. I won’t mention them in hopes that you watch the show and get pleasantly surprised.

Unfortunately, Undeclared has another similarity with Freaks and Geeks. Both shows were cancelled before completing the first season. It’s sad because the series had so much potential and it ends way too quickly. There are only seventeen episodes, and each one is so funny and entertaining that you can’t help but binge-watch. Before you know it, you have no more episodes to watch and you’re let with a void in your heart and Netflix queue.

Critically Rated at 16/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Packing Last Minute

It doesn’t matter how far in advance I plan a trip, I always end up packing last minute. I’ll do my laundry the day I leave so I have the maximum number of clean boxers and socks as possible. I can’t pack my charger too early because I need my phone fully charged when I leave the house. I can’t pack my toothbrush and toothpaste the night before because I have to brush my teeth in the morning. The same thing goes with packing my shampoo, body wash, and lather thingy the night before because I can’t wake up without taking a shower. It’s rough, I know. You might leave out a few things by leaving it until the last minute but it doesn’t matter. You always forget to pack something anyway. Like pants.

Critically Rated at 11/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Pants

Pants are an article of clothing that cover your ass, legs, and junk. They typically go from your waist to your ankles, or from your ankles to your waist depending on how you look at it. Some countries call them trousers, but here in America we call them pants. Foreigners wear trousers. Muricans wear pants. There are many different types of pants. There are jeans, leggings, Capris, ass-less chaps, breeches. There are also many different ways to hold your pants up. Most people prefer belts, hipsters and old people go for suspenders, and some rugged individuals use rope, extension cords, or duct tape. Pants are interesting because the word is both singular and plural. It’s also a noun and a verb and a contradiction, like when you pants somebody in gym class. It’s contradictory because you‘re taking off somebody’s pants when you pants them. I like pants. I wear them every day except when it’s my day off and I don’t have to. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that chicks can wear pants now too thanks to the women’s liberation movement. What a time to be alive.

Critically Rated at 13/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Radio DJ

I used to think that being a DJ for a radio station would be a great job. I would get to play cool music all day, I would have thousands of people listening to what I have to say, and I would run the occasional contest for free concert tickets. Then I grew up and so did technology. We listen to Pandora and Spotify, we can download and stream music instantly anywhere and anytime. People don’t need to listen to the radio anymore and we don’t want to. If I’m listening to music on the radio, it’s because I have no other option. I want to hear music, not what the DJ has to say about it. I know that “Uptown Funk” is a catchy song, I don’t need the DJ to tell me that (or play it five times an hour). Radio isn’t necessary anymore and so what chance does a radio DJ have? They should get the Of Mice and Men treatment. We should lead them into a field, tell them about the rabbits, and shoot them in the back of the head. It sounds harsh, but it’s the most humane way to get rid of them.

Critically Rated at 5/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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I’ve Already Done That

I’ve been doing this blog for three years now and I’m constantly looking out for new things to write about. An idea for a topic will pop into my head, I’ll jot down a note or two to remember it, and I’ll let the idea germinate in the back of my mind until I have time to type it out. But I’m at the point now that I have to search Critically Rated first to see if I’ve already written about something. And a lot of the times I’ll realize that I’ve already done that, then I have to find something new to write about. That’s ok though, it helps keep me motivated to find something else to write about. That’s how this post was created. I wanted to write about battling for the armrest. I had it all figured out. Too bad I already wrote about fighting for the armrest in 2012. I needed a new topic. So I wrote about how I’ve already done that. And now you’ve read it. My work here is done… for now.

Critically Rated at 8/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Profile Picture Crop Out

I was Facebooking last night and I noticed that my friend uploaded a picture of her hanging out with some friends. They were all dressed up nice. They were wearing dresses, they had their hair styled all fancy, and it was a solid group photo. I also noticed that my friend had changed her main profile picture. It was the same group photo but with all of her friends cropped out so that you could only see one smiling face with fancy styled hair. Ahhh, the classic profile picture crop out. It’s one of the most selfish things that you can do on social media. I love this picture of us, but I’m taking all you out of it so everyone can focus on me. I look great, don’t I? The best is when you see snippets and remnants of the people who were cropped out on the sides of the photo. Sometimes you’re the one who was cropped out. It’s not a nice feeling when you see that you didn’t make the cut. A group photo should remain a group photo. A crop out is a cop out.

Critically Rated at 5/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Looking for the Light Switch

A bunch of buddies and I recently rented a house for a bachelor party weekend. It was a nice house. It had huge backyard with a pool, basketball hoop, ping-pong table, an outdoor living room equipped with a huge TV, 4 bedrooms, and 2.5 baths. It even had a kitchen with a refrigerator! There were fourteen of us altogether and we were in the mood to party and party hard. And we did. We got a bunch of beers and started playing drinking games until we started dropping like flies. One by one we would slip away from the festivities and find a place to pass out in peace. After a while there was only a few of us left to semi-clean up, lock doors, and turn off lights. It’s hard looking for the light switch in a strange house, especially when you’re wasted. I tried to turn off the patio lights and turned on the garbage disposal. I tried to turn off the kitchen lights and turned on the lights in the living room, waking up a few grumbling drunks in the process. The only light I could successfully turn off was the one in the refrigerator (all I did was shut the door). Looking for the light switch is a thankless chore. Nobody cares when you finally find it, and they’ll think you’re stupid until you do.

Critically Rated at 7/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Opening Doors with Overly Lotioned Hands

I got a little too much sun over the weekend and I got a little burnt. Now I’m starting to peel. I don’t like going out into public look reptilian, so I decided to put on some lotion. Then I put on a little more. Then some more after that. I put on too much because I couldn’t get enough grip on the doorknob to turn it. My hands were too moist. I was trapped in my room for couple of minutes until my hands were dry and fully functional. It took me twenty-nine years, but I’ve finally realized that opening doors with overly lotioned hands is nigh impossible. It’s best to leave the door slightly ajar before applying lotion (unless you’re thirteen years old and have a dirty magazine, in which case you should close the door and double check that it’s locked).

Critically Rated at 6/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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A Fly on the TV

I was watching TV the other day and a fly landed on the screen. It would stay in one spot for a little bit, then it walk over to a different spot for a while, then it would find a new spot to hang out in. It made it really hard to focus on whatever I was pretending to watch. There should not be a fly on the TV. The fly should be flying, not walking around keeping me from enjoying my Netflix. I don’t know how a little bug could be such a big distraction, but I can’t even stand a screen with a dead pixel. There’s no way I can ignore a fly. Flies are way bigger than pixels.

Critically Rated at 4/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Closing the Airplane Window

I flew into Phoenix from San Francisco earlier today. I booked last minute and forgot to check in on time so I ended up stuck with a middle seat. Luckily it was a short flight so it wasn’t too bad. My biggest complaint was that the guy next to me had his window closed. I don’t know why. You get to choose your seat. Why would you choose a window seat if you’re only going to close it? It makes no sense. The biggest perk of the window seat is having a window to look out of, especially on when taking off or landing. It’s ok to close the window if the sun is blasting you, but the window shouldn’t be closed the entire time. Closing the airplane window is selfish. Think about the guy in the middle seat. Maybe he wants to look out the window. He can’t if you closed it. Don’t be a jerk, share the view.

Critically Rated at 4/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young



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Don’t Get Along

I wouldn’t say that I hate anybody, but there are a few people that I simply don’t get along with. We don’t see eye to eye, we rub each other the wrong way, and we can’t help but bicker and argue. Some people just aren’t meant to be friends. And that’s ok as long as you don’t physically come to blows or keep your psychological warfare to a minimum (at least when other people are in the room). All you can do is try to be civil or at least pretend to be. Don’t be petty. Don’t undermine them. Don’t cut them down or insult them to their face, wait until they leave the room. Then you can talk shit behind their back, the way that you’re supposed to air your grievances. Some people don’t get along. That’s all there is to it. Don’t take it personally. It’s awesome if you have thousands of friends, but you’re doing something wrong if you don’t have any enemies.

Critically Rated at 9/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Amateur Stoner Neighbors

I have a pair of amateur stoner neighbors. They don’t know what they are doing. About once or twice a week they will wake me up around 8:30 or 9:00 in the morning because of their absurdly loud smoking sessions. They open the window so everyone can hear their unnecessarily noisy conversations, they blast the stereo, and light one up while coughing and hacking after each hit. First off, no respectable stoner should be waking up before 10:00 am. Secondly, if you do wake up to smoke a joint, you shouldn’t be yelling and screaming and singing loudly to terrible ‘90s rock music. Why are you screaming? You should be more concerned with passing the joint around. The only thing you should be saying that early is: “C’mon, pass it already.” Thirdly, any decent stoner should be ashamed of coughing. If you can’t handle your shit, don’t do that shit. I’m not going to yell at them to shut the fuck up because I’m moving out soon. They won’t be my neighbors for much longer. I can only hope that my new neighbors will be more professional than these current amateurs. And that they have better taste in music. That shouldn’t be too hard.

Critically Rated at 6/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Weird Workplace Acronym

Anyone who has ever seen Office Space knows that we’re putting coversheets on all the TPS reports now (unless you haven’t seen the memo). What the fuck are TPS reports? Well, it doesn’t matter what TPS stands for. It’s just another weird workplace acronym. Practically every job has a weird workplace acronym of their own. Some jobs have more than one. I’m sure your job as an acronym or two that is always a topic of discussion at the water cooler or the bar after work. My job has SOAP reports. They break down sales, comps, voids, etc. and rank each employee. I don’t like SOAP. I will not be defined by SOAP. I don’t believe in SOAP.

Critically Rated at 13/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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A Pimple You Can’t Pop

I have a pimple on my nose. I know it’s on the left nostril. I can feel it. There’s pressure. There’s a little bump. But I can’t pop it. And it’s starting to drive me crazy. It’s been there for a couple of days now. It’s not noticeable. I can’t see it. But it’s there and it seems to be settling in and making itself comfortable. It might be there for a while. I don’t like pimples you can’t pop. Popping pimples is the best part about having pimples. Some would argue that it’s the only redeeming factor of pimples. You get immense satisfaction from popping pimples. A pimple you can’t pop is a pimple you don’t want. I’m sure dermatologists would advise you against popping pimples, but that’s only because they pop pimples for a living and want the glory for themselves.

Critically Rated at 3/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Older Than the Athletes

I remember my first year in college was the same year LeBron James made his NBA debut. It made quite an impression on me, not because he was the Chosen One or whatever, but because we were both eighteen years old and starting new chapters in our lives. His book was just way better than mine. It was kind of a turning point. When you’re growing up the athletes you’re watching on TV are older than you. You keep watching sports and time slogs on. After a while you’re the same age as the rookies, then you’re the same age as the athletes in their prime, then you’re the same age as the veterans, and eventually you’re the same age as the coach. Realizing that you’re older than the athletes is worse than a finding a gray hair. It’s like finding ten gray hairs at once. It’s your mortality slapping you in the face. And it hurts. Nobody wants to be older than the athletes. They want to be the athletes.

Critically Rated at 6/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Waiting for a Burrito

I was hungry and craving a burrito earlier. And when you’re craving a burrito, getting a burrito becomes your top priority. I grabbed my skateboard and had to make a choice. I could go left or right. The burrito place on the left was closer but more expensive. The burrito place on the right was farther away, but they had better burritos for a cheaper price. I decided to go to the right. I got there and was dismayed to see the line going out the door. I decided to suck it up and got in line. I was only waiting for a few minutes when I heard the cashier tell a customer that it would take at least twenty-five minutes until his food would be ready. I needed a burrito, but I’m not going to wait a half an hour to get one. I had to go to the other burrito place.

I skated back the other direction, passing my house and continuing on for a few more blocks. Luckily there wasn’t much of a line. I was able to order within a minute or two, and was out the door in less than five minutes. I skated back home with my well-deserved burrito. As I peeled back the foil and bit into it, I noticed the time. It had been roughly twenty-five minutes since I left one burrito place for the other. But all that extra skating was worth it because I didn’t have to wait. Waiting for a burrito is a waste of time. I regret nothing.

Critically Rated at 5/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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