GMYH One Year Anniversary

It seems like just yesterday that Jason "Wee Wee" Whitney prompted me to start a blog. It wasn't yesterday. It was one year ago, interestingly on the 6th anniversary of the first time I kissed the woman who would eventually become my wife. (Yes, I remember that date, and I'm not ashamed to admit it -- it just makes me a better husband/boyfriend than 97.3% of the husbands/boyfriends out there. Plus, how could I forget when I went in for the kill and Jessie backed away for a moment to spit out her gum in less than elegant fashion? I knew she was the one.)

But anyway, I would like to thank everyone who for some reason reads this on a regular basis, as well as everyone who just reads it now and then. I am not sure why anyone would want to read the delusions of a horribly depressed lawyer who pretends to bang chicks in his office every Friday while listening to hair band music. I am legitimately concerned about your mental stability, as you should be about mine.

Paranoid schizophrenia aside, here are some of the highlights from GMYH's first year:

• 2005 Labor Day Weekend in Chicago. The first in a long and continuing line of unnecessarily long posts about stupid shit that happens when I drink. I like to drink.
• GMYH Interview Workshops: Interview Questions 1, Interview Questions 2, Interview Questions 3, Interview Tips, Sample Interview Script, and Questions for Interviewees to Ask.
• The dawning of Hair Band Friday. Working on Fridays hasn't been the same since. And I have VD.
• GMYH Biographies: Jesterio, Tron, Wee Wee, Greg Weeser*, Zumpano, Kris Kringle, Matthew Spring, J-Diza, and the forthcoming Hack Bone.
• The 30 in 8 Series: pregame, beer 4, postgame, recap, and Ashcraft puking.
• Fecal Phantoms. I don't know if this is really a highlight, but it seemed to happen more than it should have: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six.
• I foreshadowed Midwestern Eavedropping by listening to one of the dumbest conversations of all-time in a Kettering, Ohio Panera.
• The White Sox -- yes, the Chicago White Sox -- won the World Series.
• I traveled to East Lansing for Halloween, and Goni and I got robbed. Pictures were taken.
• The famed Metz Suite "Areola" Weekend, and the resulting 3 posts: the recap, the song, and the pictures.
• I saw Saw.
• The Dirty Dayton Bar Crawl.
• Ryan almost gutted Volchok with a wine bottle. In retrospect, he should have.
• Gonzaga's basketball team was finally exposed for what it was: the ugliest team in college basketball.
• The Bachelor Party Manifesto.
• You know you're from Southwestern Ohio if . . .
• For some reason I decided to get serious on the 25th anniversary of John Lennon's death.
• I sounded off on court-rushing in college basketball.
• PopoZao.
• I was nearly murdered by some F-4s.
• I saw the fucking Crüe.
• I lost 10 pounds, most of which is still off.
• For Lent, I gave up drinking during the week and fried foods.
• The OC "When Will Marissa Eat?" pool, which Holt won by picking episode 69 (hell yeah). He has not yet redeemed his prize.
• People mispronounced words. I was not happy.
• Rhonda hit the 200,000-mile mark. Stickers were applied.
• Jester and I went to Key West.
• I discovered Troy's Mixtape of Love.
• Jester and I moved to Chicago. Several days later I shuked.
• Midwestern Eavesdropping was started.
• Marissa Cooper fucking died. Volchok will pay.
• Kim and Casey got married. So did Chris and Selina.
• It came to my attention that there is a Wings tribute band.
• Jessie and I made it to our first anniversary.
• There is a 5-year-old transvestite in Florida.
• I mercilessly berated a Christian rock band called Hot Sundae. Twice. Luckily it turns out that they have a pretty good sense of humor.
• A week before the bar exam, I nearly killed myself with alcohol whilst seeing Def Leppard and Journey. Nearly a month later I nearly killed myself after being introduced to the O-Bomb.
• I took the Illinois bar exam. Sweet.
• I went to Lollapalooza.
• Some guy lied about killing JonBenet Ramsey.
• For some reason I started up a GMYH MySpace page and a GMYH Cafe Press shop.

Thanks again. I love you all.

I have created a blog

At the behest of Jason "Wee Wee" Whitney, I have created a blog for his pleasure so that he has something to laugh about each day. Well, here goes...

So my dog, Harley, puked a couple times last night. No big deal, dogs get sick. I'm sitting at work today, busting my ass for the man, and my wife (Jessie, aka Jester, aka Pea Head) calls telling me that Harley has shat blood. Yes, shat blood. Not having a band-aid for that particular situation, we had to take Harley to the vet. Outside the vet's office, Harley proceeds to shit blood without shame or concern, only stopping when yanked by the neck into the office. I guess she had some sort of intestinal virus that has been floating around the Miami Valley's dog population. To remedy the possible dehydration that Harley was bound to be experiencing on account of the constant vomiting and blood shitting, the vet jams an IV into Harley's back and fills her back with fluid, thus giving Harley a camel-esque hump of water. Luckily it dissipated within a couple hours, but messed up nonetheless. Fear not, the little bitch is well on her way to recovery and can now eat without puking or shitting blood.

So now I'm sitting at home on a Friday night, about to go to bed because I have my firm's golf outing tomorrow morning, which should prove to be an embarrassment on account of the fact that I suck at golf and they have free beer.

Sorry Wee Wee, this isn't the best start, but I went with what I had to work with: a dog who shat blood. I promise it will be funnier in the future, and hopefully less to do with dogs (or anyone, for that matter) shitting blood.