In honor of Halloween, You’re Done Here, Buddy presents this week’s Epic Bro Production. Enjoy!

A recent glance through an undisclosed friend’s Facebook page got me thinking about sushi and why it is always the default meal choice for birthday dinners. Let me preface by saying that I have twice been to Tokyo, am an avid lover of “the sush,” and nothing excites me more  than a fresh landing strip of Uni straight to the facehole.  That said, it seems like every time someone’s birthday rolls around, sushi becomes the go-to dinner of choice. Let’s analyze this from a couple of perspectives: 1) Sushi, while amazingly buttery and always spot-hitting, isn’t necessarily the best eating style for large groups. As much as I love my girlfriend’s best friend, do I really want to drop 50 bones so that all I get is a meager piece of a California Roll? 2) Let’s think about all the other amazing options that are out there: Chinese food, bowling, having a house party where you get black-out drunk and make a pass at one of your best friends. Now, that’s a party.

All I’m saying, guys, is that we can do better. Let’s start to think out of the Bento Box on this one.  The Gods of Edo have spoken and their claim is pure and true: the sushi birthday dinner is Done Here, Buddy.

Anyone who’s attended college west of the Mississippi or in the crunchier parts of the Northeast should be familiar with the activity that is the subject of today’s post. Slacklining, a pastime of total headballs and identity discovering college students, is best described by the Colorado Slackline Club as the sport of walking a small, flat nylon rope between two points. Yet, i’m not totally sure why such a hobby should be considered a sport or an activity, even.  My aim is not to suggest that some of the slacklining communities’ more heroic fetes are Done Here, Buddy. A slackline session, however, more often than not resembles a potluck dinner gone drum circle, in which no food is served and no drums are present … well, maybe  a few drums are present.  You know. The djembe. The congo … the Done Here, Buddy.

Anyone who watched this Sunday’s Chicago Bears blowout defeat to the Cincinnati Bengals knew this post was coming. The Chicago Bears secondary ONCE AGAIN looked awful. What the hell, Chicago? Carson Palmer carved you guys up quicker than John Madden gobbles down Thanksgiving turkey. 31-3 at the half. Just terrible. The Bears secondary once again looked strategically outmatched and physically inferior to a Bengals offense that dominated the Bears in every facet of the game. The reasons why this years secondary sucks will no doubt be debated from Howard & Western to 95th / Dan Ryan, but, its consistent aptitude to blow assignments and regularly leave Chad Ochocinco wide open represent problems that speak more to the Bears defensive strategy than it does the team’s personnel. It’s no secret that the bears are most vulnerable in the cushion between linebacker and safety units, but, why a change has yet to be made to this horrible defensive strategy is a cause for absolute concern. It’s as if everyone else in the league knows something that Bears Head Coach Lovie Smith doesn’t: that the Cover 2 Defense is Done Here, Buddy. So Done Here.

In somewhat relevant sports news, former Boston Celtics backup point-guard Stephon Marbury has decided to “shut everything down” and not play in the upcoming NBA season. The self-proclaimed “Starbury”–who has played a meager 47 games in his last two seasons–recently spoke to reporters about his decision. Starbury, a native of Brooklyn, NY, cited “empire building”  as the principle reason that he will not play this season. The beleaguered former all-star continued to hypocritically challenge the philosophy of his hometown Knicks, framing the team as a franchise built not  to win championships, but as an organization whose sole aim is “to make money.” The statement came in the aftermath of Starbury’s turning down the celtics one year $1.3 million offer. Apparently, Marbury feels his attention should be on that of his rapidly growing commercial enterprise: “Starbury.” Whether or not you agree with Stephon’s claim about the Knicks’ strategy moving forward, Stephon probably should have thought twice before criticizing the very same objective he too hopes to reify. Starbury, however, did mention that he hopes to rejoin the NBA in the 2010-11 season.

There are two kinds of people in this world: the first, is the person who has refined their gum chewing skills so that all chewing remains confined within the sanctum of their own mouth. The second, who is obviously Done Here, Buddy,  is the demonstrator of excessive hubris–who shows no regard for other people’s space–making public their aptitude for this lip smacking, bubble popping activity. This past monday, I boarded the BART to make my way from my home in Oakland to San Francisco, where I am a Mandarin Chinese Instructor at the ABC Language School in Union Square. During the ride, I was quietly glancing over and making last second changes to my lesson plan, when I heard a noise that resembled the igniting of an atomic missile. Little did I realize, the sound that I mistook for an atomic missile was actually a woman engaged in some of the loudest gum chewing that I have ever witnessed.  Blasphemed, I couldn’t help but think how inappropriate this kind of behavior is. Is nothing sacred? The BART is a public vessel designed to transport passengers from one station to another in what ought to be a civilized environment. It is not, however, a symposium to practice your little leaguer impersonation.

Last night, I had the distinct opportunity to volunteer at a fundraising event thrown by Conservacion Patogonica at the David Brower Center in Berkeley, California. The event was truly inspiring, as those who attended watched two films, one produced independently by CP’s Founder and President, Kristine Tompkins, and the other by her husband, Doug Tompkins, founder of the Conservation Land Trust. The purpose of last night’s fundraiser was two-fold: to raise funds (obviously) and to create awareness for the more than 2 million acres of land these industry pioneers have worked to protect in Argentina and Chile.  Following the films and a short Q & A session, the attendees returned to the lobby to indulge in deserts and coffee. It was at this exact juncture that I noticed a gentleman sporting an article that has no place whatsoever in an urban setting or on a person aged more than 13 years: The Cargo Pant.  How Done Here, Buddy is the cargo pant? “So Done Here, Buddy,” exclaimed one of my friends. “I can’t believe those things were even started here,” he continued. Sadly, it’s true. Let’s ask ourselves some fundamental questions:

1) How many pockets does a guy actually need? 2) What is the aesthetic value of having zippers dangling all over the place? If pockets needed on a pair of gentleman’s trousers is 4, and, if  the aesthetic value of superfluously dangling zippers is 0, we can use a simple mathematical equation to deduce the the final answer for todays post: 4 pockets + 0 aesthetic value = You’re Done Here, Buddy