How to on your way to speak like a true NewYorker !!!!!

While In Iraq , I got into a conversation with some locals who wanted to know all about the city and how to speak like a New Yorker. So I put it together and it was one of the funniest days I had in my Life. This is how it went

If you plan to visit New York and use a proper English phrasebook to get you around, fuggetaboutit! True New Yorkers admittedly (and proudly) speak a version of English you can’t even begin to decipher with a phrasebook. Whether it be years of immigrants melding their respective languages into one or just a random jamble of words, the dialect spoken here needs a bit of explanation.

First things first, to speak like a New Yorker, forget the combination of the letters “T” and “H”. As in:
Dees, Doze, Dis and Dat (These, Those, This and That)

For whatever reason, these, those, this and that don’t exist in New York. Instead, D’s are really popular and if you want to fake being a native, drop these and switch to doze.

Ga’ Head (Go Ahead)
A phrase of encouragement. As in, “go on with your bad self”.

Get the F**k Outta Hea (Get the F**k out of Here)
Sure this sounds confrontational but its a term of disbelief more than anything.

Scenario: “So Paulie (a common man’s name in NY for some reason), I ran into Fat Lou dis morning and he told me that five guys rolled into the deli wearing nothing but speedos and cowboy boots.”
Paulie “Get the F**k Outta Hea”.

Da bot a’ yous (the both of you)
More than one of you. You and a friend are bot yous.

How YOU Doin? (how are you doing?)
Made popular by Friends, it’s like asking how you are doing but with more intent. Put some emphasis on the YOU and you’ll blend right in.

Fuggetaboutit (Forget about it)
Don’t worry about it, it’s all good. Also used to express that something is never going to happen as in, “You think you can get in her pants? Fuggetaboutit!”

Loosie (Lucy)
Not a hooker but a single cigarette. Smokes in NYC are about $11 a pack so there is a huge demand for single cigarettes (at $0.75 a piece).

Mudder (mother)
Directly translated to mother. Popular uses include: “I heard your mudder was sick? How is that old broad?” and “F**k your mudder”. Both are quite different uses of the term but nonetheless very common.

Boss
People that either don’t know or forgot your name will call you “boss” instead, especially if you go to the same bodega (the general store you see on every corner) more than once during your visit. You will feel like a big deal for no good reason.

Shlub/Putznyc
If you get one of these thrown in your direction, know that you really f**ked up. The equivalent of being called a douchebag. Get your fight face on, shit’s going down.
EYYYY (Hey)

Bodega: (Spanish) a small corner convenience store

The City: used when referring to New York City.

Straphangers: a standing passenger on a bus, subway, or train

Bridge and Tunnel: used when referring to those that live in the suburbs, mostly Jersey or Long Island

Pie: pizza

Coffee regular: refers to coffee with cream and sugar

Stand on line: to stand in a line

Lox and a Schmear: a bagel with smoked salmon and cream cheese

Kitch: (Yiddish) referring to tasteless style. Also, kitchy (adj)

Hero: a submarine sandwich

Used to up the level of any conversation. Feel free to stick an “eyyy” into just about anywhere. Beginning a conversation with it is more like a “hello”. Show emotion by throwing it in as an exclamation. Combined with random hand gestures, you can have an entire discussion about nothing using “eyyy” and leave satisfied. Moment of silence? Get your “eyyy” out and it won’t be so awkward.

The above grab bag of phrases is a good start. If you have a handle of their uses, try saying them really loud, louder than you feel comfortable (aim for people being able to hear you within at least an entire city block radius), and you’ll be on your way to truly speaking like a New Yorker.

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I was tortured on my first day of Yoga on the Isle of Jamaica and survived !!!!

As far as I know, I am not the strongest man in the world. I doubt I would ever be mistaken for the fastest either. But I think I can say with a high degree of confidence, that if there were a category in the Guinness Book of World Records for the world’s MOST INFLEXIBLE HUMAN BEING, my picture would appear.

I recently on my tip to Jamaica wandered in to health club class at the hotel I was in. What a terrible mistake that was. This past week, I took my very first YOGA class ever. Oh My God. Somehow – don’t ask me how – I made it through it. But if you’re over 40 and have never tried yoga before, let mine be a cautionary tale. Don’t even think about trying yoga – unless you enjoy intense pain coupled with public humiliation.

My competition in the class looked harmless enough: 15 women of various ages and sizes and three men of Indian descent who appeared to be in top physical fitness. These 15 women and the three Indian men (who, as best as I could tell came straight out of yoga central casting) all came equipped with their yoga mats, matching yoga outfits and bare feet. There was this one lone guy who came in without a yoga mat, wearing a dorky T-shirt that read “I’m in shape. Round is a shape” and sporting conspicuous white socks and sneakers. That guy would be me. In retrospect, I’m surprised an alarm bell did not sound the moment I walked through the door, declaring that a yoga pretender was attempting to break into this yoga sanctuary. I had absolutely no business being there. I was not in the shape I thought I was.

It was clear I served only one purpose in this room – to make everyone else look remarkably fit and flexible by comparison. I became the poster child for how not to do the various positions and exercises. You name the exercise, I did it wrong. I lost count of the number of times the instructor would say in her calm, soothing voice “See how that man over there has his left foot bent in front of his right knee? Don’t do it like that. You’ll hurt yourself….”

I was in pain and tightness from the moment we began until the moment the torture was halted 90 minutes later. My nonstop misery was only compounded by the calm, soothing voice of Amber, the 23-year old, impossibly svelte yoga instructor, as she guided us through what everybody else apparently thought were very simple moves:

“Okay, now, let’s assume the downward facing dog position. (I am not making this up. That’s an actual yoga term.) Now, gently lift your right leg into the air until it is directly above your head. As you do this, rotate your hips so they are facing away from your right leg. Good. Now reach your right arm under your left arm until it is clasping your left ankle, keeping your left leg at a 90 degree angle with your shoulders. Now, gently rock back into the plank position (another yoga term) and touch your left hand to the heel of your right foot. Very good, everybody. Except for that man over there. Sir, you’re not doing it right. Now, everybody else, as you rotate your right arm behind your lower back, lift your left leg and touch it to your right shoulder blade. Very good.”

According to my math, by now I should have had precisely no legs and no arms in contact with the floor. So that pretty much leaves levitation as my only option. But there everybody else was, like members of the Cirque du Soleil traveling circus, all contorting their bodies in ways I have not done since the time I was with Susan Donahue back in college in the back seat of her 1972 Chevy Malibu– but I digress.

Throughout the yoga session, I felt like I was playing a demonic version of the old board game TWISTER: Move your right arm to green; move your left leg to yellow: move your right leg to blue – only in this version, the dots were above, below and behind me, and twelve feet apart… and mocking me.

Just when I thought I might survive this purgatory, Amber, the sadistic instructor, brought in some torture equipment. She forced me to take a strap and attach it to a clip on the wall. Apparently I was being punished for not doing the previous exercise properly. Through a sequence of painful steps, I ended up upside down, with my head on the floor, my body held in the air only by this strap, pressed against the wall. (I swear I am not making this up!) I am pretty sure I saw a Dateline investigative report where they showed this torture technique being used at Guantanamo to get prisoners to confess.

I think I lost consciousness only briefly. I was just about to confess that I had indeed stolen my younger brother’s Playboy magazine back in 8th grade, when the instructor mercifully took pity on me and decided I had been through enough. As if my self-esteem were not low enough, the heartless yoga instructor felt it necessary to compound my feelings of helplessness by continually inserting Indian words into her instructions, which everybody except me seemed to comprehend just fine. The following exchange was typical:

“NAMASTE, everybody. Now let’s all get into our BHUJANGASANA position. Please take three deep breaths through your nostrils as we get ready to do our HAMSA KUMBHAKA. (I could be mistaken, but I think this was position #27 of the Kama Sutra.) Very good everybody. Will someone please help that man with the white socks over there get into his HAMSA KUMBHAKA? Thank you.

“Move your left leg until you’re in the Warrior One position. Hold this position (for an eternity) before shifting into your PADMASANA two position. By now you should be starting to feel your inner PRANA. Now continue to breathe slowly, until your core is united with your VINYASA. Very good. Now let’s all return to the ARAVAM position. Wonderful. Don’t you all feel more relaxed now? And you sir, in the back – do you need any help untying your arms from your legs?”

Throughout my ordeal, my typical facial expression was what you would expect from someone who had just been strapped into the medieval torture instrument known as the rack. As I grimaced, I would occasionally look around the room. Nobody else was grimacing – even slightly. How is it possible that you can be asked to wrap your left leg around your neck and touch it to your tailbone without grimacing? Explain this to me. Another thing I could not fathom was the fact that nobody except me seemed to have the slighted hint of perspiration. At the 20-minute mark, my t-shirt was already soaked. By the end, my spent perspiration could have filled a backyard pool. But the others in the room looked like they had just walked off the set of an Irish Spring soap commercial.

Over the course of 90 minutes, I stretched my body in every conceivable direction. I had entered the session with the misguided notion that yoga would help me relax and work off stress. I was so naïve. Clearly the goal of yoga is to stretch your body in a variety of convoluted positions not found in nature until you beg forgiveness for all your past sins. At the end of 90 minutes, the only part of my body that I was fairly certain had not experienced excruciating pain was my left ear lobe.

I strongly believe there should be some sort of warning sign – like a warning label on medication – that you should be required to read before you can legally sign up for a yoga class. It would say something like: “Warning: Do not sign up for yoga if you are a male over the age 40 of who considers it a major physical accomplishment to get up from your La-Z-Boy recliner on the first try. Do not try yoga if you have the flexibility of a piece of granite. Do not try yoga if the last time you looked down and saw your feet while standing was 1985.”

Only through some inner reservoir of strength I didn’t know I possessed and the sheer determination to survive long enough to see my kids one more time was I able to make it through this nightmare called yoga alive. When it was over, I couldn’t get up off the floor, wanting just to lie there, motionless until years later the health club building would eventually be shut down and replaced by a bowling alley. But I found the courage to get back up onto my feet. I limply waved goodbye to the cruel instructor, Amber, who calmly and soothingly whispered to me “Namaste”, which I was pretty sure meant “I don’t ever want to see you here again.”

It’s been a six days since I had my near-death yoga experience. Miraculously, I appear to have made almost a complete recovery. Turns out that the curse the instructor had said to me, “Namaste,” loosely translated, simply meant “Have a nice day.” So perhaps she was not trying to kill me after all.

I just might have to give this yoga thing one more try. But then again, I see that there’s this other class called “Intensive Core Power Lifting & Total Collapse Cycling” – not recommended for beginners or men over 40 wearing dorky T-shirts.” Ah, heck, I survived yoga. How hard can this class be? I think I’ll sign up today. Wish me luck !!!!

75 Mistakes Unhappy People Make.

A person does not have to be behind bars to be a prisoner. People can be prisoners of their own concepts, choices and ideas. So tell the negativity committee that meets inside your head to sit down and shut up.

When you dream, you better dream big; when you think, you better think big; and when you love, you better love truthfully. Happiness is a choice. There are no excuses for not trying to make the very best out of your life. There are no excuses for living in a way that consistently makes you unhappy.

Thinking that you have already missed your chance. – Your life, with all its ups and downs, has molded you for the greater good. Your life has been exactly what it needed to be. Don’t think you’ve lost time. It took each and every situation you have encountered to bring you to the current moment. And every moment of your life, including this one right now, is a fresh start. If you have the courage to admit when you’re scared, the ability to laugh even as you cry, the nerve to speak up even if your voice is shaking, the confidence to ask for help when you need it, and the wisdom to take it when it’s offered, then you have everything you need to get yourself to a better place.
Using failed relationships as an excuse. – Life doesn’t always introduce you to the people you WANT to meet. Sometimes life puts you in touch with the people you NEED to meet – to help you, to hurt you, to leave you, to love you, and to gradually strengthen you into the person you were meant to become.
Changing who you are to satisfy others. – No matter how loud their opinions are, others cannot choose who you are. The question should not be, “Why don’t they like me when I’m being me?” It should be, “Why am I wasting my time worrying what they think of me?” If you are not hurting anyone with your actions, keep moving forward with your life. Be happy. Be yourself. If others don’t like it, then let them be. Life isn’t about pleasing everybody.
Putting up with negative people and negative thinking. – It’s time to walk away from all the drama and the people who create it. Surround yourself with those who make you smile. Love the people who treat you right, and pray for the ones who don’t. Forget the negative and focus on the positive. Life is too short to be anything but happy. Making mistakes and falling down is a part of life, but getting back up and moving on is what LIVING is all about.
Focusing all of your attention on another time and place. – This day will never happen again. Enjoy it. Cherish your time. It’s often hard to tell the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory. Someday you may discover that the small things were really the big things. So learn to appreciate what you have before time forces you appreciate what you once had.

Dale Carnegie once said, “It isn’t what you have, or who you are, or where you are, or what you are doing that makes you happy or unhappy. It’s what you think about.”

I don’t think anyone could say it any better than that. I’ve watched so many friends search tirelessly for happiness by changing jobs, moving to new cities, pursuing intimate relationships, and tweaking all sorts of other external factors in their lives. And guess what? They’re still unhappy. Because they spend all of their time and money adding positive externals to their lives when their internals are still in the negatives.

So with that in mind, here are 75 ways to stay unhappy forever. Of course, I would highly recommend you read each bullet point and then move swiftly in the opposite direction.

Dwell on things that happened in the past.
Obsess yourself with all the things that might happen in the future.
Complain about problems instead of taking the necessary steps to resolve them.
Fear change and resist it.
Work hard, do your best and then condemn yourself for not achieving perfection.
Belittle yourself.
Hang out with other people who belittle you.
Try to control everything and then worry about the things you can’t control.
Lie to yourself and those around you.
Keep doing the same thing over and over again.
Be lazy and follow the path of least resistance.
Hold onto anger. Never forgive anyone.
Always be right. Never let anyone else be more right than you.
Compare yourself unfavorably to those who you feel are more successful.
Let small issues snowball into big problems.
Never learn anything new.
Never take responsibility for your own actions.
Blame everyone around you.
Don’t ask for directions and don’t ask questions.
Don’t let anyone help you.
Quit when the going gets tough.
Be suspicious. Trust no one.
Get four hours of sleep every night and convince yourself that it’s enough.
Never throw anything way. Even if you don’t use it, hold onto it.
Say “yes” to everyone. Fill all your time with commitments.
Try to be everyone’s friend.
Multitask, multitask, multitask! Do everything at once.
Never spend any time alone.
Don’t help others unless you have to. Do only the things that benefit you directly.
Hang out with people who complain about everything.
Focus on what you don’t want to happen.
Fear the things you don’t fully understand.
Always seek external validation before you consider yourself good enough.
Take everything and everyone in life seriously.
Spend your life working in a career field you aren’t passionate about.
Focus on the problems.
Think about all the things you don’t have.
Read or watch lots of depressing news from broadcast media.
Set lofty goals for yourself and never do anything to achieve them.
Never exercise.
Only eat junk food and fried food.
Never check-up on your health.
Setup your lifestyle so it revolves around money.
Spend more than you earn and rack up lots of financial debt.
Don’t say what you mean. Don’t mean what you say.
Frown.
Never tell anyone how you feel or what you’re thinking.
Make sure everything you do impresses someone else.
Always put your own needs on the back burner.
Get involved in other people problems and make them your own.
Make others feel bad about themselves.
Watch TV for several hours every day.
Gamble often.
Stay in the same place. Don’t travel.
Don’t play, just work.
Let your hobbies go.
Let your close relationships go.
Never finish what you start.
Take everything personally.
Do lots of drugs. Drink lots of alcohol.
Never say, “I’m sorry.” Never say, “I love you.”
Don’t work hard at anything.
Always wait until the last minute.
Believe that, no matter what, you are entitled to things.
Let others make decisions for you.
Remember the insults. Forget the compliments.
Let it all bottle up inside.
Rely on others for everything.
Fail to plan.
Don’t dream.
Don’t think about the future at all.
Always disregard other people’s opinions and suggestions.
Make promises you can’t keep.
Don’t decide on anything, ever.
Just keep going and going and going. And never ever stop.

And now that you know what not to do, You now know a secret about happiness.