Most people just think of anarchists as dirty people who live in squats and smell and throw homemade firebombs through the windows of 7/11s. Ok well, that’s what I picture. Maybe most people don’t. But, still, there IS an undesirable connotation in many people’s minds about anarchists.

Which is why it was really fun to meet a lot of nice, helpful people at the Really Really Free Market, a monthly bazaar organized by none other than anarchists. They happen all over the country (perhaps all over the world, I dunno, I’m just a dumb American what do I know about what happens in fancy Europe?), and people are encouraged to start their own.

Essentially, The Really Really Free Market is a place to exchange goods or services through barter or just free giving. No money is exchanged. And yet a market still happens. Imagine!

At the one I attended this month in New York, there was a band playing, and people were giving haircuts, and someone was leading a group in laughter yoga, and there were clothes and printers and other goods for people to take, freely. Everyone was having a really, really great time.

And yeah, there was a lot of junk being given away, too. And for a jerk like me whose first instinct is to laugh when someone falls down, my first instinct was to laugh at some of the junk on the tables. A lot of the stuff NO ONE WOULD EVER NEED. So I’ll admit, I struggled at first, because I LIKED these people and didn’t want to be a JERK just because of a few baubles.

Once I got over my initial giggles and started walking around, things got better. I met some really kind, interesting people, who – like me – think the old white men in charge are a bunch of C-students. And I got a mix tape! A really fun mix tape. I like finding other people’s mix tapes. So I was happy, because I found a gem.

And I guess that was the point, right? One person’s junk is another person’s gem? Or whatever that saying is, if there is an actual saying.

The bottom line is that the people at the Really Really Free Market have really, really open minds, and are trying to do something nice and positive instead of just being angry at the system. And for me to rail on them just for a few pieces of junk would only make me a jerk.

Magically, they also held a mechanical bullrider charity competition for any media person dumb enough to want to try it. Naturally, I signed up – anything for charity!

I chose St. Jude’s because I’ve been affected by the awfulness that is cancer, and, well, you know I just love me some children!

As worthy as the cause was, as soon as that mechanical bull had the slightest modicum of buck in it, I totally rolled off that thing. Visions of neck braces flashed through my head. Plus I just endured a year of pain and watching my arse grow fatter after a nasty ankle sprain. So, eff that. Laters, bull!

But I had some fun, and it gave me a reason to buy a pink cowboy hat, and I got to meet real, bona fide WORLD CHAMPION PROFESSIONAL BULLRIDERS.

I love my job. I hope you love this video a little, too.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have jeggings. UGH. So dumb.

To illustrate how silly some current trends will seem in the future, I decided to go way, way back in time to talk about a bizarre fashion trend: black patches. These were around in the 1600 and 1700s in Europe. People glued patches of black fabric on their faces, mainly to cover awful smallpox scars. Having been a zitty teen, I can appreciate wanting to cover nasty scarring. But – gluing crap to my face? Now that’s just silly.

Much like jeggings are. And if you don’t realize that now, you will in a decade or so.

The key is to be able to decifer what trends will look stupid in a few years, and what new innovations in fashion are actually, well, innovations that will stand the test of time.

This is not a talent that hipsters have. So, like we did with smallpox, we must find a cure for the heinous hipster disease. Soon, please!

The bottom line is, I don’t have childrens, and since I don’t, I tend not to find them terribly charming or engaging. I mean, I love the ones I’m related to. They’re so awesome, I don’t even think of them as kids. And my friends’ kids: they’re all pretty great, too. I’m talking about the childrens in the thousand-dollar strollers that clog up Brooklyn, or the precocious little effers standing in your way at Barnes and Noble. New York City seems to be inundated with lousy childrens. So THOSE, I don’t like.

But the people who came out to this year’s Toy Fair all had really fun toys that seemed like they had one thing in common: to make the childrens of the world smarter. Better. Nicer. Less jerky. So, even though I still do not love the childrens, I left the fair this year feeling optimistic for their futures. And that is a very nice thing.

Check out some of the toys I got to test out here, here, here, here, here and here.

The Snuggie. The Be-Dazzler. Ginsu Knives. Urine gone.  Yes, Urine Gone!

Sometimes the products look so great! And the prices are always insaaaaaaaaaaanely awesome! How can you resist?

Well, one product really caught my eye recently, called Shoes Under. https://www.asseenontv.com/prod-pages/shs_und_ood_ontv.html Essentially it’s just a box that can hold your shoes under your bed for you. Sounds like a great idea, if you hoard shoes like some superficial debutante! Or if you’re like me and live in New York and never have enough space for ANYTHING.

What really intrigued me, though, was the price. Of course, these infomercials always through in extra stuff at the end and knock down the price. The Shoes Under offer did this as well. As I did the math on this one, I realized that the price of one Shoes Under came to 5 bucks. Which means that the makers of this thing can charge a person 5 bucks for this thing and STILL MAKE A PROFIT. Which means Shoes Under is a flimsy piece of crap.

So, I had to buy it and check it out myself. And lo and behold, it was just as crappy as I could have imagined. Flimsy, smelly, and will fall apart very soon.

Now, since I ponied up the cash for it, I WILL try to put it to use. It WILL house shoes I never wear, under my bed, until it falls apart. But you’re just as well off if you just plop the damn extra shoes in a garbage bag and call it a day.

We make a lot of crap in this world that is useless landfill fodder. I wonder if that’s ever going to change? Or will we just keep making mounds of crap in an effort to increase our own bank accounts, so we can buy the crap that other people make?

Weird world – as seen on TV, and as seen all around you in reality.

So, to commemorate this anniversary, this decade-long career I’ve had now that’s put me on TV and across the web and into lots and lots of awesome fun situations, I thought I’d release one of my very-old classics. This one is entitled, “Free Gum,” and it showcases how my first pieces were all about cleaning up New York City.

It also showcases a really awesome hairdo that I sported at the time. For about 2 or 3 years, I put my hair through the wringer, coloring it every shade in the Benjamin Moore iPhone App. To accomplish this, I had to bleach the crap out of my hair first, then put on some Manic Panic. It was a an arduous, stinky process, and one that I’m lucky to have had some hairs survive. I should be bald for all I put my hair through!

Aside from the funky hairdos, the best thing about looking through some of my older stuff for the anniversary episode has been seeing what I chose to cover on my own, before I had clients to answer to, before I was interested in what was going on in the world, in politics, or in pop culture. I just wanted to cover what annoyed me on a day-to-day basis.

It was extremely cathartic. And I think it’s good for me to remember why I started doing this in the first place: to poke fun at stuff that pisses me off. That’s what I’m good at, that’s why I started doing this weird job, and that’s something I should remember whenever it’s time to decide what to cover. It’s also good for me to remember to never, ever put my poor hair through all that chemical processing again.

Thanks for tuning in all these years, you guys! And Happy Anniversary to meeeeeeee.