Tuesday, February 28, 2006
One of the nice things about the Abs Diet is that it doesn't just hang you out to dry after those initial six weeks. It gives you a "maintenance" workout plan (4 days a week instead of 5-6), and explains that you should still maintain the same eating habits (which isn't hard, since you eat most of the stuff the book says to eat anyway, and you're used to it by this time anyway), although instead of getting one meal a week to eat whatever you want, you get one day a week to eat whatever you want. Supposedly, if you continue doing this, you will maintain your current weight. I still have a couple more pounds I want to lose, certainly more fat that I want to lose, and I want to get my BMI into the "normal weight" range, which is between 18.5 and 24.9 (which means I have to get down to 168.9 pounds). So I'm going to still limit myself to one meal a week of anything I want, rather than one whole day, and I'm going to try to workout 5 times a week instead of 4 until I get to my desired weight/fat%/BMI.
Anyway, here are the final vitals:
Week 1: 179.4 (-3.4)
Week 2: 177.4 (-2.0)
Week 3: 176.4 (-1.0)
Week 4: 174.6 (-1.8)
Week 5: 173.4 (-1.2)
Week 6: 172.6 (-0.8)
Total Difference = -10.2
Week 1: 26.5 (-0.5)
Week 2: 26.2 (-0.3)
Week 3: 26.0 (-0.2)
Week 4: 25.8 (-0.2)
Week 5: 25.6 (-0.2)
Week 6: 25.5 (-0.1)
Total Difference = -1.5
Week 1: 24.8% (-0.8)
Week 2: 24.4% (-0.4%)
Week 3: 24.4% (--)
Week 4: 24.2% (-0.2%)
Week 5: 23.7% (-0.5%)
Week 6: 23.5% (-0.2%)
Total Difference = -2.1%
Monday, February 27, 2006
But there is a silver lining to this golden cloud: it's pretty safe to assume that Patton is going to get raped and murdered in jail, not necessarily in that order.
Kudos to Ryan "Pissed Off" Christoff for sending me the link to this one, as well as Tradd "The Video Artist" Fromme for sending Ryan the link.
Anyway, the show was at Bogart's, which is apparently on UC's main bar drag. I would describe Bogart's as an old VFW hall that gets cooler bands. Plus they sold those massive Foster's cans. Did you know that Foster's is Australian for beer? So I downed a couple of those while watching the Black Keys rock the hizzie. Here's a picture. Notice the totally awesome high school talent show silver back drop.
After the show, we all went back to Marc and Brian's house, where we had a couple more drinks, I jumped over a driveway, and then we headed out to some bar called The Shade or The Shape or something that started with an S. The bar was pretty cool, or at least could have been cool, had they not had a shitty DJ and just played from what looked to be an excellent and funtional juke box. At some point between the concert and arriving at The Shade, Catherine (who lives next door to Marc and Brian) went from mildly intoxicated to Irish funeral drunk. It comes out that she has wanted Brian for a while (apparently this wasn't big news). So then Catherine and Brian go back to her place, where Brian says all that happened is that they watched a Grey's Anatomy DVD, which definitely explains why he didn't return home until noon on Saturday. No matter what happened, I wrote a song about their torrid love affair, and I think I should share it with all of you. I call it "Next Door Man (Catherine)"
I love you Catherine
Even more than heroin
I think that we should live together
Even if your roomate Heather
Doesn't move out
Once school's out
Catherine, there's a yard between us
But that didn't stop you from wanting my penis
Catherine can't you understand
Wanna be more than your next door man
I dig you neighbor
Even more than Lifesavers
Catherine, now I'm falling for you
I think we should have a kid or two
Maybe next year
If you're still here
(extended guitar solo)
It might have been the Sparks
But I saw you in the dark
And I knew right there
That I'd have your underwear
Just a-hangin' from my teeth
Underneath your satin sheets
And all that noise
That you've made with other boys
Would be nothing compared
To the sound you made in there
When we would consecrate
What I thought I'd really hate
I'll see you Catherine
Every time I frown or grin
Let's not make things awkward yet
Because you still have my Erector set
And I'll want it back
And you in the sack
See, now wasn't that cathartic? I know it was for me.
Saturday was just as good. Kate and Mike left at the asscrack of dawn to go to the OSU/Michigan basketball game in Columbus. Marc, Jester, Brian, and I had lunch at Zip's, which is a bar/restaurant a couple blocks from Marc and Brian's house. Their specialty is the Girth Burger, which is a hamburger with a split mettwurst sausage on top of it. Pure genius.
During the afternoon, Brian bought a 1000-piece puzzle because I told him I'd give him a dollar if he finished it by the end of the night (I still have my dollar). We watched some old game shows on the Gameshow Network. One episode of Family Feud we saw featured one of the worst/funniest answers we had ever heard. It was the final round, and a daughter and father were the chosen contestants. The daughter gets a pedestrian 88 points in her half, so that father has some work cut out for him if they want to win. The first question is "Name a profession that is considered dangerous." The daughter said "policeman," which was the #1 answer. What does the dad say? Fireman? No. Stuntman? No. Football player? No. This SOB says "Steeple painter." Yes, steeple painter. We were rolling for a couple minutes. I haven't laughed that hard since Gacy got executed back in '94.
Saturday evening, Marc and Brian hosted Mini-Lebowskifest, which involved the inhalation of White Russians and the viewing of The Big Lebowski. Joining us for that were the following nihilists: Amy "Bunny" Belanger, Jamie "Marmot" Belanger, Aiden "AC" Belanger, Holt "Uli" Hedrick, Chris "Smokey" Stoll (whose girlfriend is Catherine's roommate--yes, the very same Catherine who I wrote a song about), and Chris's girlfriend Kim.
The movie was as funny as ever. And I thought of a sweet name for a band (if it doesn't already exist): The Royal We. Aside from the drinking, Jamie once again endangered the life of AC. Not by allowing him to date Spano or accidentally killing his pet lizard while he was on vacation, but by letting him have full access to Jamie's Coors Light bottle (as shown in the picture below).
Don't get me wrong, I love to see babies get drunk as much as the next guy, but when AC gets drunk, he always talks about how he fucked things up with Jessie and how he wishes he would have gone to Iowa on a wrestling scholarship instead of Cal U. In fact, he goes on and on about how "the College Years" were just one big mistake all together.
After the movie, Marc's special lady friend, Maggie (aka Mag Dog), arrived from Chicago. She missed the I-65 exit on I-90, so she just took I-90 all the way to I-75, and took that all the way down. For those of you who might be curious about whether this is a good idea, I will refer you to elementary geometry, which teaches us that a triangle's hypotenuse will always be shorter than the other two sides combined. Anyway, it turns out that Mag Dog and I grew up only about 5 minutes from each other, and that she and I went to the same church growing up (shout out to Fr. Gallagher, Fr. Klees, Ray Ray, and the rest of the St. Cletus posse--holla!), and that we would have gone to the same high school, except she went to the nearest Catholic school instead of walking the same hallowed halls as David Hasselhoff once walked at Lyons Township. Either way, it's pretty random.
So then all of us (minus the Belangers--they had to take AC home before he tried to put someone in a Figure Four) went to Mt. Lookout Tavern, known colloquially as MLTs. We drank some drinks there, listened to a band that was pretty good (or so I don't remember), and hopefully got Holt liquored up enough to remember that he didn't hook up with anyone on his birthday weekend. Oh, and at the end of the night, Brian went next door for some reason. Probably to watch whatever episodes of season one of Grey's Anatomy he hadn't yet seen.
And for those worried about Mr. 10,000's biography, don't worry, its coming.
Friday, February 24, 2006
"[Plaintiff] Kathleen A. Meyers met Steven Clark and Pat Shea for a sandwich at a local restaurant/bagel store known as Marx Hot Bagels. [Defendant] John Marx is the president of [defendant] Hot Bagels Factory, Inc., a company comprised of four bagel stores, including Marx Hot Bagels. Meyers and her companions entered the bagel store, sat at the counter, and ordered their food. At some time Meyers placed a 'to-go' order. At the end of the meal, Clark and Marx engaged in a conversation in which Clark informed Marx that Meyers preferred a competitor's menu. After that conversation, Marx, in the presence of everyone in the store, walked up to Meyers and said, 'You look like a classy lady, what are you doing with him? You must be a really good fuck. Are you a good fuck?' He then proceeded to tell her a sexual anecdote about two customers. At the conclusion, he asked Meyers, 'So are you? Are you a good fuck?' Marx asked Meyers if she w[as] embarrassed. She told him that he was disgusting, that he was humiliating her and that he owed her an apology. As she then turned to get her 'to-go' order, Marx stated, 'I can see you have a nice firm ass. You must really be a good fuck. Are you? Are you really a good fuck?'
Meyers's testimony was substantially corroborated by Clark and Shea. Clark also testified that Marx said, 'Women are only good for fucking.' Shea testified that he heard Clark and Marx engage in banter and that he heard Marx make a comment about Clark being with a younger woman. He said Marx commented that Meyers had 'a nice ass' and 'something like she's got a nice ass or are you fucking her, too.'
Marx testified he had no memory of the incident and that he felt victimized by the lawsuit. A salesman and an employee in the store on the day of the incident testified they did not hear Marx say 'fuck' or 'ass.' The employee testified Marx was aggressive and that a lot of what he did in the restaurant could be misconstrued. He described the atmosphere of the restaurant as 'wild and wacky.'
Subsequently, Meyers described the incident as a 'brutal attack' and a 'verbal rape.' She was upset. Soon after the incident and the filing of this lawsuit, Meyers saw Marx walking in front of her house and became very frightened. Her sister, who also saw Marx that day, described him as stomping past Meyers's house in his uniform, clutching his hat. She testified he 'appeared to have a temper as he was walking past.' After seeing Marx in her neighborhood, Meyers put steel bars on all the windows of her house and began to sleep with a baseball bat next to her bed and a golf club next to her son's bed.
After the incident, Meyers was unable to sleep, eat, concentrate, or work, and became less socially active. Her friends and family noticed the difference in her personality and told her she needed to seek professional help. She contacted Dr. Myszak, a psychologist, and had five sessions with her. Dr. Myszak diagnosed Meyers as experiencing post-traumatic stress syndrome."
I'm guessing the answer to Marx's question was probably a solid "no." One thing is for certain, though: Marx Hot Bagels is one wild and wacky place. Who knows what kind of hijinx is in store for its customers? A bucket of pig's blood gets dumped on you as you walk in the door. Watch out! Be careful about ordering iced tea because it's actually one-half iced tea and one-half employee urine. Oops! Tuesdays are Employees Must Have Sex in the Kitchen and Dining Area Days. Not again! Those aren't chunks of onion on that "everything bagel," but boogers instead. Wocka wocka! Better not get the salmon cream cheese because it's actually chock-full of crabs, and I don't mean the kind you find in the ocean. Whoo-ahh! You open up your 'to-go' bag to find out it's not cream cheese slathered between the halves of your bagel, but human feces instead. Gotcha! When they get your order wrong and you ask them to change it, you get depantsed in front of everyone in the store and the owner himself hosts a Friar's Club Roast about your genitalia. Shazam! You'll have to visit to find out what wacky antics those guys are up to today! Whatever it is, it's undoubtedly wild!
GMYH sends its heartfelt congratulations to Fenson, Joe Polo, Shawn Rojeski, and John Shuster for starting what will hopefully be a long and fruitful American curling tradition. When it comes to curling, we may be the new kids on the block, but at least we don't wear stupid fedoras and vests over t-shirts and sing totally girly songs.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
By the way, I'm currently watching "Chicago Blues Jam" on BET Jazz. Tonight, it's a Muddy Waters tribute show, in honor of what would have been his 79th birthday (it must be from at least a few years ago, since his birthday is in April and he was born in either 1913 or 1915). Anyway, it's pretty good.
First Team (in order)
- Derek & The Dominos - Layla & Other Assorted Love Songs (1970). The combination of rock gods, south Florida, and enough booze, coke, and heroin to kill Keith Richards is usually a combination that results in great music. Combine that with a guy who's desperately in love with his best friend's wife, and you have a masterpiece. With Eric Clapton's heartbreak, Duane Allman's slide guitar, and Bobby Whitlock and Clapton's songwriting (and some other guys' contributions), this group churned out a combination of blues ("Nobody Knows You When You're Down And Out"), rock ("Keep On Growing"), and frantic love songs ("Why Does Love Got To Be So Sad?") that is the best post-breakup-crying-alone-in-a-dark-room-while-downing-a-bottle-of-Jack album ever made. The song "Layla," which may as well have been called "Pattie" (for Pattie Boyd Harrison, George's wife, with whom Clapton was in love), might be the best song in rock and roll history. Their version of Jimi Hendrix's "Little Wing" is haunting. In essence, Clapton's genuine despair and heartache shines through in every song. Favorite Songs: "Anyday," "Little Wing"
- Def Leppard - Hysteria (1987). From the moment I heard "Pour Some Sugar On Me" on Z-95, I loved it, and it soon became (and still is) my favorite song of all-time, even though I didn't fully understand what the song was about until sometime last year. Turns out it was about sex. The Hysteria album was the first album made after Rick Allen's horrific 12/31/84 car accident that left him with only one arm, and Allen had a special drum kit engineered so that he could play with his left foot what he had previously played with his left arm. Hysteria is, in my opinion, the best album of the glorious and decadent Hair Band Era. It had four top 10 songs, Def Leppard's only #1 song ("Love Bites"), and is one of three albums ever that has charted seven singles or more on the US Hot 100: "Women" (#80), "Animal" (#19), "Hysteria" (#10), "Pour Some Sugar On Me" (#2), "Love Bites" (#1), "Armageddon It" (#3), and "Rocket" (#12). It's an album that I can still listen to over and over again and not get tired of it. Favorite Songs: "Pour Some Sugar On Me," "Women"
- The Beatles - The Beatles (aka, The White Album) (1968). Picking my favorite Beatles album is like picking my favorite sexual position. I love 'em all, but the weirdest one that takes the most time wins. The White Album is my favorite Beatles album because of its diversity of song types. The White Album has hard rock ("Helter Skelter"), ballads ("Julia"), social commentary ("Piggies"), love songs ("I Will"), soul ("Why Don't We Do It In the Road?"), double entendre ("Happiness Is a Warm Gun"), vaudevillian throwbacks ("Honey Pie"), blues ("Yer Blues"), fun songs ("Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da," "Rocky Raccoon"), and some straight-up weird shit ("Revolution 9"). The Beatles seamlessly combined all of that into an epic double album. Favorite Songs: "Happiness Is a Warm Gun," "Sexy Sadie"
- The Jimi Hendrix Experience - Axis: Bold As Love (1967). I love Jimi Hendrix, and picking out a favorite album was tough, but Axis: Bold As Love edged the others out. The album featured innovative, pioneering guitar techniques, and it was on this album that Jimi's songwriting really blossomed, almost to the point where it matched his guitar playing (although it's probably impossible for anything to match his guitar playing). Many songs on the album feature imaginative (probably acid-induced) lyrics ("Up From the Skies," "Spanish Castle Magic," "One Rainy Wish," "Bold As Love"), including "Little Wing," which I consider to be Jimi's best written song ever. "One Rainy Wish" features my favorite Hendrix moment, which occurs at the end of the first verse, when the guitar kind of hangs on to a note and that then the chorus starts ("I have never laid eyes on you..."). I get chills every time I hear it. Seriously. Favorite Songs: "Little Wing," "One Rainy Wish"
- The Doors - The Doors (1967). My dad used to play this album for me when I was a kid (I do believe it was a tape of his LP). This was the album that introduced the world to the dark and brilliant songwriting of Jim Morrison (who I think is probably the greatest front man in rock history). A stark contrast to the flower power, hippie-dippy music that ruled the airwaves in 1967, this album featured well-crafted pop ("I Looked At You"), surreal oedipal mini-operas ("The End"), blues covers (Willie Dixon's "Back Door Man"), German drinking songs ("Alabama Song (Whiskey Bar)"), and two of the most famous Doors songs ("Light My Fire" and "Break On Through"). Favorite Songs: "Soul Kitchen," "Take It As It Comes"
- The White Stripes - White Blood Cells (2002). Choosing a White Stripes album was also tough, but I chose this one because it was the album that broke them onto the national scene and the album that I think, along with the Strokes' first album, really catapulted the new garage rock genre. Also, it was the first White Stripes album I bought, and I was baffled that this much sound could come from only 2 people (and with no bass guitar). Then I found out that it was recorded in less than a week and I nearly shit myself. It's a generally blues-inspired album (as are most of their albums), featuring their first commercial hits ("Fell In Love With a Girl," "Dead Leaves On the Dirty Ground," and "We're Going to Be Friends"), songs inspired by (and completely comprised of lines from) Citizen Kane ("The Union Forever"), and sardonic and sometimes cold views about love and relationships ("Expecting," "I'm Finding It Harder to Be a Gentleman," "Offend In Every Way," "I Can't Wait," "Now Mary"). Favorite Songs: "Hotel Yorba," "Offend In Every Way"
- Guns 'N Roses - Appetite For Destruction (1987). I'll never forget where I was the first time I heard Slash's now-famous intro to "Sweet Child O' Mine": sitting on the floor of my friend Patrick Kelley's living room in Germantown, Tennessee when it came on MTV. It was one of those "holy shit" moments. Appetite For Destruction was everything that a 9-year-old could want: ball-busting rock and roll, peppered with swearing, in an album that featured a cartoon of a naked chick's would-be robo-skeletal rapist about to be killed by some giant bug with knives for teeth. I couldn't believe my mom actually let me buy it. Needless to say, it's a great album that has stood the test of time better than expected. Favorite Songs: "Rocket Queen," "Mr. Brownstone"
- N.W.A. - Straight Outta Compton (1989). I went under my parents' nose for this one. I'm not sure that any album has better exemplified my struggles growing up as a middle-class white male in LaGrange, Illinois than Straight Outta Compton. But seriously, I love this album. As a middle-school student, its brutally honest subject matter opened my eyes to things that I had never really thought about before (cops being evil, drug abuse, drug dealing, gang violence, life in the hood, etc.). It's one of the few albums I can go years without listening to and still remember every word. I consider this album to be the most influential rap album of all-time, ushering in the gangsta rap era and influencing rap and hip-hop for years to come. How could it not be when it was made by a group comprised of Ice Cube, Dr. Dre, Eazy-E, MC Ren, and Yella? Favorite Songs: "Fuck Tha Police," "8 Ball"
- Beck - Odelay (1996). It's Beck at his best: weird, innovative, musically interesting, and catchy, all at the same time. Plus, he played all the instruments, or so I read once. You've probably heard "Where It's At," "New Pollution," Jack-Ass," or "Devil's Haircut," and you know how awesome those songs are. The rest of the album is just as good. I don't know what else to say about it. Favorite Songs: "Lord Only Knows," "Novacane"
- Velvet Underground - Velvet Underground and Nico (1967). A lot of people don't like Velvet Underground, and that's because a lot of people are idiots. This was their debut album, made while they were still affiliated with Andy Warhol, and it featured honest and gritty lyrics (mainly courtesy of Lou Reed) combined with edgy, unpolished, and sometimes experimental music (they had a viola player, for Christ's sake). It was basically punk rock before there was such a thing, except the lyrics were better and it was far more intricate. And to top it off, they had a German supermodel (Nico) sing some of the songs ("Femme Fatale," "All Tomorrow's Parties," and "I'll Be Your Mirror"). The album featured poppy songs ("Sunday Morning"), eerie love songs ("I'll Be Your Mirror"), songs about waiting for a drug dealer ("I'm Waiting For The Man"), songs that could very well be featured in a Fellini film ("Black Angel's Death Song"), and seven-minute songs about heroin addiction featuring a droning viola ("Heroin"). Favorite Songs: "Heroin," "I'll Be Your Mirror"
Second Team (in order)
- Outkast - Speakerboxx/The Love Below (2003). A phenomenal double album that really can't be characterized as fitting into one particular genre. "Hey Ya!" is one of the best pop songs ever written. Favorite Songs: "Hey Ya!," "The Rooster"
- Bruce Springsteen - Born to Run (1975). Somehow I just got this album on CD for Christmas (I have it on vinyl, but only listened to it once or twice), and I can't stop listening to it. It has a strange combination of sincerity, hope, and frantic youthfulness. At some point in the future, it very well may be on the First Team. Favorite Songs: "Thunder Road," "Born to Run"
- Weezer - Weezer (the Blue Album) (1994). A great debut album with well-written and catchy songs. I can listen to it over and over without getting sick of it. Favorite Songs: "No One Else," "The World Has Turned and Left Me Here"
- Nirvana - Nevermind (1991). This album brought grunge to the forefront, changed music forever, and started Kurt Cobain's downfall. Favorite Songs: "Breed," "Lounge Act"
- The Allman Brothers Band - The Fillmore Concerts (1971). One of the best live albums ever, taped about seven months before Duane Allman died (six years to the day before I was born). Favorite Songs: "In Memory of Elizabeth Reed," "One Way Out"
- Otis Redding - Otis Blue (1966). I think Otis Redding is the best soul singer ever, and this is the album (in which he was backed by Booker T. & The MGs) that put him on the map. Favorite Songs: "I've Been Loving You Too Long," "Rock Me Baby"
- Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin II (1969). Straight English blues and hard rock, ushering in the beginnings of heavy metal. Favorite Songs: "What Is and What Should Never Be," "Bring It On Home"
- Snoop Doggy Dogg - Doggystyle (1993). My second favorite rap album is a classic that you all should own or at least know, bi-atch. Favorite Songs: "Ain't No Fun," "Gz and Hustlas"
- The Rolling Stones - Sticky Fingers (1971). This is my favorite Stones album because it's raw, bluesy, sometimes sentimental, and the kind of album that you can just get wrecked to. Plus, it's original cover, designed by Andy Warhol and complete with a real zipper, is one of the better album covers ever. Favorite Songs: "Can't You Hear Me Knocking," "Moonlight Mile"
- The Sex Pistols - Never Mind the Bollocks Here's the Sex Pistols (1977). Released the day before I was born, it's probably the biggest "fuck you" album of all-time, and probably the most influential punk album. Favorite Songs: "Bodies," "Pretty Vacant"
Honorable Mention (alphabetically by artist)
- 50 Cent - Get Rich or Die Tryin' (2003)
- The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds (1966)
- Beastie Boys - Paul's Boutique (1989)
- The Black Crowes - The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion (1992)
- The Black Keys - Rubber Factory (2004)
- Creedence Clearwater Revival - Willy and The Poor Boys (1969)
- Dr. Dre - The Chronic (1992)
- Bob Dylan - Highway 61 Revisted (1965)
- Fatboy Slim - You've Come A Long Way, Baby (1998)
- Foo Fighters - The Colour and the Shape (1997)
- Marvin Gaye - What's Going On (1971)
- George Harrison - All Things Must Pass (1970)
- Kaiser Chiefs - Employment (2005)
- The Killers - Hot Fuss (2004)
- King Konga - Halo (1999)
- KISS - Alive II (1977)
- Louis XIV - The Best Little Secrets Are Kept (2005)
- John Mellencamp - Scarecrow (1985)
- Van Morrison - Moondance (1970)
- Mötley Crüe - Dr. Feelgood (1989)
- Of a Revolution (O.A.R) - The Wanderer (1997)
- Pearl Jam - Ten (1991)
- Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers - Damn the Torpedoes (1979)
- Razorlight - Up All Night (2005)
- Santana - Santana III (1971)
- Skid Row - Skid Row (1989)
- Stone Temple Pilots - Core (1992)
- The Strokes - Is This It? (2001)
- Muddy Waters - Muddy "Mississippi" Waters Live (1979)
- Andrew W.K. - I Get Wet (2002)
So there it is. Deal with it.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
The US team (who has never finished higher than 6th) was leading after the first leg, when our leadoff man, Jay Hakkinen, got out to a shockingly fast start. We ended up finishing 9th because of our lack of shooting accuracy. The second guy (Tim Burke) had to use all 6 spare bullets, the third guy (Lowell Bailey) had to use 4 spares, and the fourth guy (Jeremy Teela) had to use 4 spares, including 3 on the final with a costly miss. And Teela's in the damn US Army, for Christ's sake. You would think that a country with the right to bear arms would be able to put up a better showing in an event like this. We can't find some military marksmen who we can teach to cross-country ski? Instead, looking at the teams in front of us, we got our asses handed to us by:
- Germany - Even without much of a military presence over the past 60 years, they still have damn good precision and efficiency.
- Russia - I would have expected them to do well when it was the USSR, since I'm sure they had some sort of national biathlon training school where future Olympians were hand-picked by age 5 and all they did year-round was train for the biathlon. No medal meant no more living.
- France - Yes, the very same France whose military hasn't fired a gun since the Battle of Waterloo.
- Sweden - Do they even have guns in Sweden? I know they have hot chicks, safe cars, meatballs, and national health care that mocks the rest of the world, but guns? I don't think so.
- Norway - Under the strict and unforgiving tutelage of Thor, the marriage of fjords and riflery has been a strong one.
- Czech Republic - We got beat by Bohemians.
- Ukraine - That guy on the subway in Seinfeld was right: Ukraine is not weak. I guess I was fooled by the fact that it's been every country's bitch for the last 650 years (even Poland--ouch).
- Italy - Being half Dego myself, I can't really see anything wrong with the Italians finishing in front of the Americans. I'm just surprised the rifles and ski poles didn't fall out of their olive-oil-soaked hands.
Monday, February 20, 2006
The US Women's Olympic dreams have officially been crushed into oblivion. Relying heavily on the maxim that it's better to burn out than fade away, the lovely ladies of the ice ended up at 2-7, a far cry from their 2nd place showing at last year's World Championships in Paisley, Scotland. In Tornio, they lost 4 matches by a combined 4 points, including 3 of those in extra ends. Those four games were the difference between 2-7 and the medal round. In their last match, against Great Britain, the US women conceded after the 6th end while down 10-4. A sad ending to a horrifying Olympics for what many in and out of the sport believe to be the hottest women's curling team of all-time.
To say that the US Women's team's performace was a disappointment would be as profound as saying that Lindsey Jacobellis is a moron or that Bode Miller deserves a merciless cock punching. They missed their chance at becoming the Mary Lou Rettons of these 20th Winter Olympic Games. At least skip Cassie Johnson (pictured), a Scorpio seductress with the eyes of a wolf and the girl-next-door doability of a young Jennifer Love Hewitt, will be able to fall back on her graphic design degree from Bemidji State.
Joining me for the show were Holt "Too Fast for Love" Hedrick and Ian "Shout at the Devil" Taronji, and I think I speak for both of them when I say that we were more than overjoyed with the 2 1/2 hour performance.
Vince Neil (real name Vincent Neil Wharton) came out wearing a red cod piece and a white denim jacket that said "Fuck Off" on the back. He was hitting high notes like it was 1981 at the Troubadour. Nikki Sixx (real name Frank Carlton Serafino Ferranno) was glammed up, complete with dark lipstick, eye shadow, and a noticeable lack of heroin. Mick Mars (real name Robert Alan Deal), a walking soul and the oldest member of the band by 7 years, continued to be completely incapable of relating to any other human being, but also completely incapable of not wailing on his guitar. And of course Tommy Lee (real name Thomas Lee Bass) had a mohawk and was working the crowd like a high-priced call girl.
Here are some of the highlights from the show:
- Mullets, mullets, and more mullets. And just when you think you've seen all the mullets you can see, bam, another mullet.
- There was a good number of tricks walking around wearing ass-length jean skirts and knee-high pleather boots, honestly believing that (1) they had a chance of getting banged by a guy in the group and (2) that said banging would be the turning point in an otherwise meaningless life. My only hope is that a roadie took full advantage of the situation ("sure I can get you backstage, but you have to do something for me first").
- After saying, "God bless all the titties of America," Tommy Lee busted out Nikki Sixx's video camera and zoomed in on various women throughout the crowd, who he then prodded to show the camera their sometimes luscious boobs, which were then shown on the 2 big screens to the entire arena. With only one exception, every classy woman he targeted showed her tah-tahs to several thousand complete strangers.
- During "Home Sweet Home," the crowd had a good lighter showing:
- The years have apparently made the Crüe unable to go a sentence without inserting the word "fucking" before or in the middle of at least three words. For instance, at one point Nikki Sixx said, "You guys fucking have no i-fucking-dea how fucking much you guys fucking rock." Seriously, "i-fucking-dea." I-fucking-'m n-fucking-ot kidd-fucking-ing.
- In the middle of the show, the rest of the band left the stage while Tommy Lee ran around the floor sections of the crowd, until he was hoisted into the air between 2 hanging drum sets, which were about 20 feet high and about 50 feet apart. One of the drum sets was pretty close to where we were sitting. The first picture below shows him being hoisted into the air from the middle of the crowd. The second shows him playing right above us. The third shows him about to land on the other hanging drum set platform after flying from the one near me. The fourth shows a wider shot of him on the farther drum set.
Needless to say, if you have the chance to see them, do it. You won't be disappointed.
Week 1: 179.4 (-3.4)
Week 2: 177.4 (-2.0)
Week 3: 176.4 (-1.0)
Week 4: 174.6 (-1.8)
Week 5: 173.4 (-1.2)
Total Difference = -9.4
Week 1: 26.5 (-0.5)
Week 2: 26.2 (-0.3)
Week 3: 26.0 (-0.2)
Week 4: 25.8 (-0.2)
Week 5: 25.6 (-0.2)
Total Difference = -1.4
Week 1: 24.8% (-0.8)
Week 2: 24.4% (-0.4%)
Week 3: 24.4% (--)
Week 4: 24.2% (-0.2%)
Week 5: 23.7% (-0.5%)
Total Difference = -1.9%
Thursday, February 16, 2006
The men dropped their match yesterday to a laughable Italian team, and then came back strong today with a 10-6 stomping of then-first-place Sweden. The men are sitting pretty at 3-2, although that loss to Italy hurt them. They must win tomorrow and Saturday against Germany and Switzerland, respectively, and then split their matches with Canada and Great Britain (who are both currently ties for 1st at 4-1) if the US Men want to ensure that they advance to the medal round.
The women, after crushing Denmark yesterday, fell 5-4 today to the Lady Swedes in another heartbreaking match in extra ends. The women are now at 1-4, with 4 matches left, and essentially out of the running to advance to the medal round. But at least the Johnson sisters still look hotter than any other female curlers.
The wife and I will be heading to a wedding tomorrow, so Hair Band Friday will be on the road. I know this may upset many of you, but you will just have to wait another week to see just how absolutely glorious Fridays can be. Until then, be good to each other.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
You may recall my post about my extremely long weekend about a week and a half ago. In that post, I mentioned a girl who I called Sarah (although it turns out that her name is Elizabeth) who walked in on Joe "The Original Goni" Malangoni while he was pissing and asked him the age-old question "Do you know why I'm here?" After that, of course, Joe told her to leave the bathroom and she did, crying because Joe refused her advances. You may also remember that a married chick named Bonnie then also tried to hook up with Joe, even though she was fully aware that he was engaged and that she herself was married. Joe, of course, rejected her advances, leaving her crying as well.
In a classic "perhaps you misunderstood outright rejection" moment, Elizabeth sent Joe a touching e-mail the Monday after that weekend. (Kudos again to Mike "The Other Goni" Malangoni for having the foresight to forward it to me--at Joe's behest, of course.) Let this be a lesson to all you psycho women out there: if you do something crazy involving someone I know, it will likely end up on the World Wide Web with witty comments inserted.
So, here it is (I have not edited anything except some names, and I have added some commentary, which is bracketed in bold):
"Sent: Monday, February 06, 2006 3:01 PM
Hey Joe! [Do you know why I'm writing you?] It was good to meet you on Saturday [and look at your penis while you were urinating without asking you first]. Thanks for meeting up with us and all the entertainment that ensued. [I'm a fucking loon.] I have been friends with Bonnie for a long time and she has often spoke of you [longingly]. It was great to finally meet you [and see your penis while you were urinating]. I really enjoyed meeting your friends as well [, although not as much as I enjoyed busting into the bathroom to watch you pee]. Bonnie was super emotional on Saturday - I think you may already know that [, since you left her bawling] - but she has been so bogged down with work that I think the alcohol mixed with stress lead to a break-down for her [, which usually means that she forgets that she's married]. I hope that did not put a damper on your evening. It didn't for me since I knew her situation [and tried to take advantage of it by hitting on you because I knew it would make her jealous].
It was great getting to know you [and watch you pee]. If you come back to B-town soon [or ever, for that matter,] feel free to crash at my place [because I'm obviously crazy]. I [really don't] hope that you enjoyed seeing Bonnie again - it is always great to relive those college days [, although I can't tell you how much it means to me that you guys didn't hook up because that means you love me and that we should be together forever and ever and ever].
Are you back in NY now? [Because if you're not, I want to see you.] I know that Bonnie has told me that you are happy in NY with [your fiance] and she is [sexually bored and generally un]happy in IN with [her husband of 2 years who has no idea that his wife is still pining over a guy she dated 8 years ago]. But after meeting you and seeing how awesome you [and your purple-headed warrior] are, I can definitely see why you and Bonnie were close during undergrad. [But she's damaged goods now. I must have you. Can't you see that we were meant for each other? I will not be ingored, Joe.]
Folks, I can't make shit up this good. Fucking looney tunes. Women, don't let your friends do this kind of stuff.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
The US Women, on the other hand, dropped to 0-2 after a demoralizing defeat at the hands of their funnier, yet less attractive and less fashion-conscious, neighbors to the north, Canada. The 11-5 defeat left the US Women with a bad taste in their mouth, but it was a taste that could be sweetened by the tangy and efficient flesh of the Japanese team. In their evening match, the US Women fought nearly to the death with Japan, before falling in extra ends by a final score of 6-5. The loss left the ladies at 0-3--down, but not out, as their upcoming matches give them a chance to beat teams currently ahead of them in the standings. Let's take a look at the ladies' remaining schedule, which includes 6 games in the Round Robin, of which they will probably have to win at least 5 if they have any hope of securing a spot in the semifinals:
- Denmark (1-1) - 2/15, 2pm TT (8am EST). The Danish team is a stinky and brutish bunch with about as much class as a Copenhagen streetwalker. The US women cannot be intimidated by the Danes' patented Jutland Toss, meant to destroy all stones in its path.
- Sweden (1-1) - 2/16, 7pm TT (1pm EST). The Swedes, dainty and haughty, cannot be taken lightly, although they are very beatable.
- Russia (1-1) - 2/17, 2pm TT (8am EST). Hulking and maniacal, the Russian team is a throwback to the genetically engineered Soviet teams that scared the shit out of competitors in Olympics past.
- Italy (0-2) - 2/18, 7pm TT (1pm EST). The Italians just plain suck. Essentially, they only got in because they are the host country. While the home crowd should be at frenzied levels, this should be an easy victory.
- Switzerland (2-1) - 2/19, 2pm TT (8am EST). The Swiss team is off to a good start, but they generally end up in the middle somewhere. Generally emotionless and careful not to rock the boat one way or another, these Swiss misses try to lull the competition into a false sense of security.
- Great Britain (2-0) - 2/20, 7pm TT (1pm EST). In a scenario that was likely dreamed up as part of a delighftully naughty gentlemen's wager by the half-drunk ghosts of King George III and George Washington, the US and British women will battle it out in what will hopefully be a Saratoga-style ass kicking. Fucking lobsterbacks.
It started out innocently enough, as I was riding my BMX bike down 47th St., a 4-lane thoroughfare in LaGrange (my hometown, outisde Chicago). Accompanying me were three women, only one of which I recognized. She was that skateboarding chick Sarah from the Miami Real World (who I just discovered is an IU grad--nice), although she held herself out to be a member of the enormous Turek family that lived about a block from me growing up and I think had about 24 kids in it. While riding our bikes, we made some small talk, and finally figured out that we had grown up a block from each other and that we went to the same church growing up.
Then it started getting weird. All four of us decided to hit the gym, so we went to Lyons Township High School's North Campus fieldhouse, which had apparently been moved to Waiola Park, about 5 blocks from its location for the past 100+ years. Inside the gym, we were for some reason completely unsurprised to see none other than the National Geographic Channel's Dog Whisperer, Cesar Milan, who was conducting a dog obedience class for about 20 dogs and their owners, who were lined up in 2 rows of 10 facing each other.
The four of us flocked to a bench against the wall to watch Cesar work his magic. Cesar had a dog in hand, with collar/muzzle that he felt was effective in preventing dogs from jumping on strangers. In addition to the many tips he had for keeping one's dog in line, Cesar had two enforcers in case any of the dogs tried to run away. One of them was a gigantic talking black and gray yak with red eyes and huge antlers. If a dog tried to run around, this surprisingly agile yak would come barreling toward the dog and try his best to headbutt the dog. The best part is that he talked like Red Foxx. After one particular headbutting (after which the dazed and defeated dog returned to its place in line), the yak came over the bench where the four of us were sitting and said something that I'll never forget. With a smile on his face, he looked at us and said, "yak gonna get ya," and then he started laughing in a way that made me think that very few dogs ever escaped when he was around.
But just in case a giant talking yak wasn't enough to corral disobedient dogs, Cesar had also enlisted the help of a fairly large buck with very large antlers himself. Unfortunately, I didn't have a chance to catch his name, but I assume it was Lamont. Then I'll be damned if I didn't wake up before finding out if Cesar was able to make all those dogs obedient. Maybe tonight.
Monday, February 13, 2006
In the first game of the Round Robin, the US Men's team scored a program-changing upset over defending gold medal winner, Norway, winning 11-5. Currently, the men are just beginning their second match of the day, against Finland, who beat the US during the Round Robin at the 2002 games in Salt Lake. I think I speak for everyone when I say that payback is a motherfucker. Just ask the Norwegians. Click on this link to follow the action (the US is currently up 2-0 after two ends -- an end is to curling as an inning is to baseball).
The US Women's team, led by the tenacious Johnson sisters, Cassie and Jamie, suffered a crushing come-from-behind defeat at the hands of Norway, losing 11-6. After leading 6-4 at the conclusion of the sixth end, the ladies were outscored 7-0 in the last four ends. They have a day to regroup before they face their archnemesis, Canada, tomorrow at 9am TT (Torino time, 3am EST) and the always dangerous and sometimes crass Japanese team at 7pm TT (1pm EST). Granted, there are a lot of stones left to be thrown, but the last thing America's sexy skip Cassie Johnson can do is let her team fall into an 0-3 hole.
Tune into GMYH for curling updates throughout these, the 20th Winter Olympiad.
"Dear [my email address],
Greetings from Amazon Payments.
Your bank has contacted us regarding some attempts of charges from your credit card via the Amazon system. We have reasons to believe that you changed your registration information or that someone else has unauthorized access to your Amazon account. Due to recent activity, including possible unauthorized listings placed on your account, we will require a second confirmation of your identity with us in order to allow us to investigate this matter further. Your account is not suspended, but if in 48 hours after you receive this message your account is not confirmed we reserve the right to suspend your Amazon registration. If you received this notice and you are not the authorized account holder, please be aware that it is in violation of Amazon policy to represent oneself as another Amazon user. Such action may also be in violation of local, national, and/or international law. Amazon is committed to assist law enforcement with any inquires related to attempts to misappropriate personal information with the intent to commit fraud or theft. Information will be provided at the request of law enforcement agencies to ensure that perpetrators are prosecuted to the full extent of the law.
To confirm your identity with us click here: https://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/flex-sign-in/ref=pd_irl_gw_r/103-3177084-7567864?opt=oa&page=recs/sign-in-secure.html
After responding to the message, we ask that you allow at least 72 hours for the case to be investigated. Emailing us before that time will result in delays. We apologize in advance for any inconvenience this may cause you and we would like to thank you for your cooperation as we review this matter.
Thank you for your interest in selling at Amazon.com.
Amazon.com Customer Service
This message and any files or documents attached may contain classified information. It is intended only for the individual or entity named and others authorized to receive it. If you are not the intended recipient or authorized to receive it, you are hereby notified that any disclosure, copying, distribution or taking any action in reliance on the contents of this information is strictly prohibited and may be unlawful. If you have received this communication in error, please notify us immediately then delete it from your system. Please also note that transmission cannot be guaranteed to be secure or error-free."
The bastards had me for a second. I clicked on the link and it took my to what actually appeared to be an Amazon webpage. Then it of course asked for my credit card info, including my CVV number and my PIN number. At that point, the light bulb finally went off, and I checked my Amazon account and all of my credit/debit card accounts, and of course there was nary a charge to be found. Anyway, I just wanted to give you all a heads up because it looked fairly legit at first.
Week 1: 179.4 (-3.4)
Week 2: 177.4 (-2.0)
Week 3: 176.4 (-1.0)
Week 4: 174.6 (-1.8)
Total Difference = -8.2
Week 1: 26.5 (-0.5)
Week 2: 26.2 (-0.3)
Week 3: 26.0 (-0.2)
Week 4: 25.8 (-0.2)
Total Difference = -1.2
Week 1: 24.8% (-0.8)
Week 2: 24.4% (-0.4%)
Week 3: 24.4% (--)
Week 4: 24.2% (-0.2%)
Total Difference = -1.4%
Friday, February 10, 2006
Last night's The OC was pretty solid. I won't bore you with the details, since I assume that you saw it, but I will point out my personal highlights:
- Kaitlin Cooper went back to boarding school, which is fine with me. Her sauciness and Lolita-like qualities could not make up for the fact that I wanted to slap her in the mouth everytime she opened it.
- It's official: Johnny and his shitty-ass haircut are dead. Personally, I think he should have been dead a long time ago, like in the first trimester. But in the end, the fact that I never have to look at his pathetic face again is refreshing.
- Some hippie chick with a mustache (who is apparently Johnny's cousin) comes to town for Johnny's funeral and to help out Johnny's mom while she's dealing with the loss of her pathetic, inappropriately hirsute son. The plotline seems to be setting itself up for this girl (named Sadie) to woo Ryan away from Marissa. I don't find this believable because Marissa is good looking all the time, while Sadie (shown to the right) is good looking only in certain lighting (much like the Seinfeld episode). One thing Sadie does have going for her is that she looks more like Teresa (the woman Ryan unkowingly has a child with) than Marissa does. Either way, a little wax on the upper lip can't hurt.
- Marissa made 2 comments regarding her lack of eating, one of which was something along the lines of "and I'm obviously not hungry." Obviously.
- Volchok, the Eastern Bloc pillow-biting surfer who Ryan intimidated into submission, is back, and he somehow knows Sadie. How many times is Ryan going to have to act like he's going to gut Volchok like a fish with a broken wine bottle before Volchok gets the point that no one likes him? My guess is 2.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
- Ryan Atwood's shit cures terrorism. Too bad he has never shit.
- Ryan Atwood beats up more surfers when he's sleeping than the rest of the world does awake.
- One time Ryan Atwood cried. New Orleans still hasn't fully recovered.
- Ryan Atwood's semen provides 100% of the vitamins and minerals necessary to maintain a healthy diet. This is why it is not necessary for Marissa Cooper to be shown eating on screen.
- If Ryan Atwood were to punch your mom in the uterus right now, you would cease to exist.
- Ryan Atwood chokes pythons.
- If you were to Google "baddest motherfucker in the history of the world," the only result would be a picture of Ryan Atwood pointing at you. Your computer would then beat you into a coma.
- It's no coincidence that you will never see Jesus and Ryan Atwood in the same place at the same time. Not because they're the same person. Jesus is just fucking scared of Ryan Atwood.
- If you were to gather Ryan Atwood's sweat, boil it with baking soda, dry the resulting product, and crush the product into a fine powder, you would have a drug over 300 times as addictive as crack cocaine. The irony, of course, is that you would die from self-inflicted punch wounds to the head and neck mere seconds after the first time you ingested said powder. Luckily for you, Ryan Atwood never sweats.
- It's impossible for Ryan Atwood to have any enemies because anyone who has ever attempted to cross Ryan Atwood has later died mysteriously from face-punching related injuries.
- One time in 1945 Ryan Atwood used an alias: The Enola Gay.
- Ryan Atwood invented the word "anachronism." In 1532.
- The Grand Canyon is what happened when Ryan Atwood pissed on Arizona.
- Ryan Atwood is a humble man, which explains why Kiss changed the name of the song from "Ryan Atwood Gave Rock & Roll to You."
- When Ryan Atwood goes to college, he will major in Ass Kicking and minor in Brooding. Upon enrollment, he will already have enough credits to graduate.
- If Ryan Atwood were to masturbate, every woman in the world would have an orgasm. Luckily, he never has to masturbate because there is not one minute during the day when he is not having sex with a totally hot chick.
- When Ryan Atwood was born, France surrendered.
- One time Ryan Atwood got drunk, and had sex with a Swedish chick. Nine months later the song "All That She Wants" by Ace of Base was released.
- If Ryan Atwood grew a mustache, humanity would soon perish because every man in the world would turn gay.
- You cannot kill Ryan Atwood. You can only make him brood.
- Ryan Atwood got sick of the sun always being in his eyes, so he punched the ground. Hence, trees.
- If Ryan Atwood were to look at himself in the mirror, he would turn to stone. Good thing he's a vampire.
- Ryan Atwood invented the question mark.
- If you see Ryan Atwood's fist, it's too late.
- Ryan Atwood's sperm is so potent that any child conceived by him refuses to be birthed by conventional methods, but rather will punch through the mother's stomach when it feels it's ready to kick someone's ass. Luckily Marissa Cooper is barren.
- Ryan Atwood was not born. He was made by Zeus from reinforced titanium, the remains of dead boxers' fists, and all non-heel parts of Achilles.
- David Copperfield never made the Statue of Liberty disappear. He just hired Ryan Atwood to tear it down and then build it back up a few minutes later.
- Ryan Atwood's saliva contains enough poison to kill a herd of elephants in a matter of seconds. Or he could just punch them and finish the job even more quickly.
- In 2001, Chuck Norris tried to roundhouse kick Ryan Atwood, breaking both feet in the process. The next day "Walker, Texas Ranger" was canceled for undisclosed reasons.
- Ryan Atwood doesn't want to punch you, but he just can't help it.
Please feel free to submit your own Ryan Atwood facts.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Saturday morning, I made the trek over to Bloomington for the IU/UConn game. Joining me for the festivities were Holt "The Phone" Hedrick, Morgan "Crazy Legs" Hirst, and Joe "The Original Goni" Malangoni. The game itself was up-and-down, with UConn showing exactly why they are the #1 team in the nation, and IU showing exactly why not having DJ White makes IU a #20-25 team. Anyway, to the left is a shot of Assembly Hall from our seats. Unfortunately my camera phone catches glare like Jenna Jameson catches peen, so it looks a little washed out.
Anyway, that evening started early, probably around 5, at Kilroy's, the bar I frequented most often as an undergrad. Morgan's brother, Christopher (who is an undergrad) joined Morgan and me, while Holt was off getting a haircut and Joe was visiting some relatives in town. By the time they arrived at Kilroy's, Morgan, Christopher, and I had polished off a few pitchers and were ready to kick it into high gear.
Soon after Brian "The Who Bear" Alessandrini joined us at Kilroy's, we all (except Christopher) went to Nick's, which is perhaps the greatest bar in the history of the world, to play some Sink the Bismark (aka, the greatest drinking game in the world). After an uncharacteristically terrible performance at Sink, I was inebriated enough that I cut myself off. Some time before this, JR "Eehoc" Cohee joined us.
I remember parts of the next several hours. Some married chick named Bonnie that Joe used to date (in college) was also in Bloomington visiting a friend that goes to law school (who I think was named Sarah, but may have been named Erin or Emily--for simplicity's sake, we'll call her Troll). Also joining those two ladies was another girl who I think was named Erin or Emily, but may have been named Troll--for simplicity's sake, we'll call her Sarah). I think Sarah was a nanny in Bloomington, which seemed confusing, since she held herself out to be a college graduate.
All three ladies were Republicans. Not that it matters, but for some reason, they made it known, and there were certain points in the evening where they did not display what I would deem "traditional family values." Anywho, apparently Bonnie, who has been married for 2 years, has not quite gotten past whatever relationship she and Joe (who is engaged) may have had 8-9 years ago in college. That will come into play later in this saga.
At some point while we were at Nick's, I found out that Penn State beat Illinois (at Illinois). I welcomed this news with overabundant joy, feeling the need to tell nearly everyone else in Nick's about this wonderful turn of events. I got the sense that not everyone there was as excited about it as I was, but I still think it was important to spread the word.
After Nick's, we all went to the Upstairs Pub and then to the Jungle Room, where Christopher met back up with us. It was becoming more and more clear that Bonnie still wanted Joe and that she had no qualms with the fact that she was married and that he was engaged. Sarah was trying to make her move on Joe, too. Joe, however, was not interested in either one.
So after the Jungle Room, the 10 of us go back to Troll's apartment. Apparently, the ladies' plan was that Joe would come to his senses and decide to throw his engagement out the window. While I drank my water, and everyone else drank beers, the evening began to unravel. Christopher and Cohee had their "what the fuck am I doing here" moments and left. Troll tried to harass Holt, while Bonnie and I were engaged in a classic political discussion involving whether it was possible to support the troops but not support the war (in case you're wondering, it is possible). Morgan and Drini left, with Morgan declaring me "in charge," which I took to mean "make sure Joe isn't raped."
Where were Joe and Sarah, you ask? Well, Joe had gone to the bathroom to urinate. Mid-piss, Sarah walks in, shuts the door and seductively asks, "Do you know why I'm here?" Joe kept on pissing (it burns to stop) and responded with something along the lines of "no." He then explained in so many words that he was engaged and would not be performing any sort of sex act with her or anyone else, including any variation of the golden shower. So then Sarah leaves the bathroom crying. After she stopped crying, she was convinced that Bonnie was going to kick her ass (which obviously would have been fun to watch).
Then Bonnie gets wind of Sarah's meager seduction attempt and decides that one night with Joe is worth ruining her marriage. Joe explained to her that she was a fucking moron, and that whatever they had 8-9 years ago has long been forgotten. So then she starts crying because she realized that her days of riding the Malangoni Bologna Pony were never coming back.
It was at that point that Troll asked us to leave. I have to say, it was a treat watching two Republican women unsuccessfully throw themselves at an engaged Democrat. You may have your precious war and your unconstitutional domestic surveillance, but at least we have our dignity.
When we got back to the hotel room, I was somehow the odd man out, which meant that this was my bed. Awesome.
On Sunday, I went up to the Chicagoland area for the Super Bowl party of Jon "J-Diza" Dudek and his girlfriend Tracy, aka "T-Money." Tracy had borrowed a projector from her place of employment, which meant that we got to watch the Super Bowl on about a 15x15 wall:
Thanks in part to the enormity of the screen, I was able to take several concert action photos of the Rolling Stones, making it appear as though I was there, including a nice shot of Mick Jagger flailing about in ways that 62-year-olds should not be allowed to do.
So on Monday, I dilly-dallied around Chicago. I went into the city and had lunch with a friend, then stopped by my dad's office to say hi. I was on top of the world. After returning to the burbs, I had dinner with my mom and headed out. Or so I thought.
Not too long after I left, my lovely '91 Accord, Rhonda, started acting strangely. Dashboard lights that I had never seen before were flashing. Long story short, a radiator hose had either burst or come loose. And just a couple miles before the 196,000-mile mark, no less. Rhonda can be a cold-hearted bitch sometimes. So I had to get her towed and I wasn't able to leave until Tuesday morning.
Once fixed, Rhonda wanted to make up for lost time. She handled I-65 like Mike Tyson handles women: with no mercy and no respect. We were making great time, and then some more strange things started to happen. While I was on I-70 in between New Castle and Hagerstown, Indiana, out of nowhere I see three F-4 Phantoms flying overhead, one after the other, about 10 seconds apart.
As if the car gods hadn't fisted me enough this trip, no less than 10 miles after the random fighter plane sighting--I shit you not--my left front tire explodes. This wasn't your run-of-the-mill tire pop. Chunks of tire were flying all over the place. My hubcab breaks off. Not falls off--breaks off (you can see the 2 remaining broken pieces of it in the pictures below). The force of the tire and hubcab explosion leads me to believe that it was no coincidence that I noticed those F-4s. Sure, the government's going to pretend like F-4s don't target '91 Hondas driving on interstate highways, but I find it a little too convenient that only 2 1/2 days eariler I was disagreeing with a Republican.
Anyway, so there I am, freezing my ass off while I'm changing a tire along I-70. And of course my spare is one of those donut spares that looks like it would be too small for a Yugo. The absolure best part about my spare is that it can only handle speeds up to 50 mph, which meant that I went 50 down the interstate for the rest of the way with my flashers on.
I did get home in time to get a new tire before Jester and I had to be at the bowling alley for our league. So, in the end, it was just a typical Midwestern winter weekend.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Last night's The OC was fan-fucking-tastic. Forget the fact that Seth is still smoking weed and that Summer figured it out after Seth gave "Save the Last Dance" rave reviews. Forget that Julie Cooper-Nichol and Dr. Roberts are well on their way to taking the skin boat to tuna town. Forget that Kaitlin talks like a fucking moron. The last 5 minutes of the episode trumped all of that.
What will be forever remembered from this episode is the fact that Johnny (yes, surfer Johnny with the worst hair in the history of the world) may be dead. Using the same reasoning skills that allow him to steer clear of the barber shop, Johnny took Kaitlin and a bottle of tequila to the beach in the middle of the night for a bonfire. Rather than get hammered and fuck the shit out of Kaitlin on the beach (which he probably could have done if he wasn't such a Marissa-crazed douchebag), Johnny decides to get hammered and climb what appears to be a 30-40 foot cliff. With the bottle of tequila in his hand, no less.
So Kaitlin's freaking out because her pristine, unconquered body is getting passed over for some rocks. Not only that, but that asshole took the tequila. She calls Marissa, who had recently passed up the chance to eat in favor of some knee spreading for Ryan (thanks to Casey "Hold the" Mayo for the knee-spreading comment last night). Being the gentleman that he is, Ryan takes Marissa and heads over to the beach.
When they arrive at the beach, Marissa heads down to comfort Kaitlin, while Ryan does what Johnny should have done in the first place: get to the top using the clean, well-maintained path on the side of the cliff. So Ryan gets up there, and Johnny's all "you're the last person I want to see" and Ryan's all "just be careful man" and Johnny's all "yeah right, just so you can save me at the last minute in front of Marissa." (He's got a point there. Since Johnny already looks like a total asswipe, the last thing he needs is for the boyfriend of the girl he loves rescuing him from danger right in front of her and her saucy little sister who he didn't bang.) Then Johnny stumbles a little bit. Ryan races to the edge to grab him before he falls. But alas, Ryan was too late. All we hear is the sound of the bottle breaking, and then it was the end of the episode.
So we never saw Johnny's body at the bottom of the cliff, which leaves us with the following questions:
- For the love of God, is Johnny please dead?
- Did Johnny's hideous mop of hair form a parachute (or what I would call a hairachute), allowing him to float harmlessly to the sand below?
- If Johnny didn't die, but suffered some sort of blunt head trauma, will the doctors please be forced to shave his head?
- Is it medically possible that by falling onto his knee, Johnny somehow completely knocked his previously injured ligaments into healthy status, thereby allowing him a spot on the Pac West surf tour (meaning that he would have to leave the show)?
- If he's dead, aside from his mom and Chili, will anyone truly be saddened by his death? (The answer to that is probably "no," since everyone would be better off. Including you and me.)
- Have McG and Josh Schwartz been reading this blog and therefore purposely putting Marissa in near-eating situations every episode solely for the purpose of pissing me off? If so, well done guys.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Since the movie's release, Groundhog Day has caught on like wildfire, so much so that the rural town showcased in the movie, Punxsutawney, actually holds a Groundhog Day celebration each February 2nd, mimicking the movie's fictional holiday rituals. Even though the "groundhog" saw his shadow today for the 10th time in 13 years, it looks as though Groundhog Day is here to stay.
You may think this is a ridiculous example of life imitating art, but it is certainly not the first time Hollywood has turned a movie or TV show's fake holiday into a real one. Here are some other examples:
-The hit TV show "Seinfeld" popularized a make-believe non-denominational holiday called Festivus.
-In 1978, John Carpenter brought to the world a delightfully macabre autumn holiday where children dress up in costume and go door-to-door asking for candy. The holiday soon took its name from Carpenter's film, "Halloween."
-"Born on the Fourth of July" gave Congress the push it needed to officially establish July 4 as America's Independence Day.
-And of course who can forget "It's a Wonderful Life," which in 1946 brought post-War America a strange new holiday to accompany the country's predominantly Christian population through long, hard winters: Christmas. Building off the popularity of this new fad that was sweeping the nation, the next year "Miracle on 34th Street" gave us a jolly man in a red suit who purported to deliver toys to every child in the world on Christmas.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Granted, it's not as dangerously sexy as the luge or the skeleton. It doesn't have the star power of speed skating. It doesn't have the WTF factor of the biathlon. It doesn't have flair and fabulous costumes like men's figure skating. But I couldn't (and still can't) resist the allure of someone called a "skip" sliding a 40+-pound stone down a sheet of ice, where several people use brooms to manipulate the stone's path until it reaches its final destination.
I only got a taste of it in '92 at Albertville, since it was only a demonstration sport, but not a full sport. Curling was noticeably absent from the '94 games in Lillehammer. Finally in '98 at Nagano, the IOC wised up and put curling back on the slate as an official olympic sport.
My white hot love for curling came to a rolling boil during the '02 games in Salt Lake City. Along with my roommates at the time, Ryan "Pissed Off" Christoff and Tradd "The New Albanian" Fromme, we vowed to one day bring home curling gold for the US of A, probably in 2010 in Vancouver. After that, of course, we would parlay our fame into a somewhat successful rap music career under the name Stone Throwaz. Our first album, "Broomz and Stonez," is set to be released by Interscope Records sometime in July 2010.
It looks as though curling won't even need Stone Throwaz in order to get the attention and respect it deserves. This year in Turino, curling is finally primed to take center stage. The US Men's team is still feeling the bitter sting of what could have been. You see, in 2002 at Salt Lake, the men lost heartbreaking and demoralizing round-robin matches to Germany, Denmark, Finland, Great Britain, and eventual Gold Medalist Norway by a combined 7 points, despite the aggressive play and near-demonic stare of US skip Tim Somerville (shown to the right). This year's team is a coalition of northern Minnesota good ol' boys, led by 37-year-old skip Pete Fenson, who has been described by many as the Don of US Curling, an obvious reference to the fact that he owns two pizzerias.
The women's team, led by the surprisingly attractive and always volatile Johnson sisters, Cassie and Jamie, look to build off of their silver medal finish at the 2005 World Championships in Paisley, Scotland. After being embarrassed in the Bronze Medal match by Canada in '02, the women should be poised for a medal this year. If that happens, I predict that the Johnsons will become the darlings of the 20th Winter Olympiad.
For the men, their road to glory begins on Monday 2/13 at 9am TT (Torino time, which is apparently 3am EST), as they battle the wily yet dimwitted Norwegian team (known colloquially in curling circles as "the jocks with rocks"). The women will first go up against Norway's women's team, a collaboration of erudite Osloans and cunning Laplanders, the same day at 2pm TT (8am EST).