Midwestern Eavesdropping - 3/29/07

Good work this week:

Twentysomething drunk female special ed teacher after discussion of girl in her high school who got alcohol poisoning from "shoving a tampon soaked in vodka up her chotty": "I have shoved things up my chotty on truth or dare."
--Chicago, Justin's Bar, Southport & Roscoe
Eavesdropper: GMYH

Clueless Female Texan: "Wait a minute—are you just eating sugar?"
Twentysomething male: "No, I haven't been adopting your habits."
Clueless Female Texan: "That’s not fair. I eat salt."
--Bloomington , IN, law journal office, 3rd & Indiana
Eavesdropper: RobD

While watching the Miami University-Oregon game and sitting at the bar, a beautiful waitress and twentysomething male discuss the NCAA tourney:
Waitress: "So, who do you think is going all the way?"
Drunk male: "I think you and I are going all the way."
--Chicago, McGee's, Sheffield & Webster
Eavesdroppers: Gregerson, Slutzow

Late teens/early 20s girl, discussing her friend who just puked in the bathroom at a restaurant after lunch: "Bulimia's a bitch, but it's totally worth it."
--Peoria, Bar Louie
Eavesdropper: AlyK

Traffic on Dunn crossing 3rd Street:
Guy in car: "I eat shit for a dollar!"
--Bloomington, IN, 3rd & Dunn
Eavesdropper: RobD

Here's another one that's not really eavesdropping, but still worthy of inclusion:
Bumper sticker on a Buick, license plate 1NORA:
"If you're going to ride my ass, at least pull my hair."
--Dayton, OH, Wayne Ave.
Eavesdropper: NaviKate

Thanks to everyone who contributed. Keep up the good work. And dammit, when you overhear or oversee something hilarious or disturbing, email it to gmyhblog@yahoo.com, and I will sure as shit include in the next installment of Midwestern Eavesdropping.

Crossroads Guitar Festival

In case you haven't heard (I hadn't until today), Eric Clapton's Crossroads Guitar Festival is coming to the Chicagoland area. I guess it's an all-day music festival and, as you may have guessed, is guitar-centric. It's a little pricey ($90), but it's a pretty ridiculous lineup:
Eric Clapton
Jeff Beck
Steve Winwood
B.B. King
Willie Nelson
Vince Gill
Sheryl Crow
Buddy Guy
John Mayer
Doyle Bramhall II
Robert Cray
Alison Krauss and Union Station
Sonny Landreth
Albert Lee
Los Lobos
John McLaughlin
Robert Randolph
Hubert Sumlin
Derek Trucks
Jimmie Vaughan

According to the article, more performers are expected to be announced in the coming weeks, and collaborations are also planned, including a Clapton/Winwood set of Blind Faith songs, which in my mind is alone worth the $90.

Jester and I are definitely going, and I have good reason to believe that Bohmann will be there as well.

Details:
When: Saturday July 28, 2007
Where: Toyota Park, Bridgeview, IL
Cost: $90 (The tickets include parking. Profits from the festival will benefit the Crossroads Center in Antigua, a treatment and education facility founded by Clapton for the chemically dependent.)Tickets go on sale: Saturday March 31 at 10am CST (Ticketmaster)

A Premier Example of Delusion

I think if you know me or if you've read this piece of shit I call a blog long enough, you know that I can be fairly bitter at times. It probably stems from the world doing everything in its power to crush me and God surrounding me on Earth with enough idiots to give me something to light a fire under my ass at all times (except when I was in college, where I was too happy, or possibly too drunk, to get angry -- God I miss college), or possibly a chemical imbalance.

Anyway, so this morning I was reading a story about why Steve Alford left Iowa to become the head coach at New Mexico. His reasons made sense (mainly that basketball is second fiddle to football at Iowa and the basketball team's facilities and resources pale in comparison to the football team's), and I thought the article was the mediocre attempt at journalism I've come to expect from the Iowa City Press-Citizen. But then at the end of the article there was a quote by Iowa Athletic Director Gary Barta, who was responding to Alford's statement that Iowa put football ahead of basketball. Here's what Barta had to say:

"This is one of the premier basketball programs in the country. I think we all know that when you take a look at our history, our tradition."

Sweet ghost of Lute Olsen's wife, one of the premier basketball programs in the country? Tradition? Are you kidding me? What fucking planet is this guy living on? It's not heaven, I know that much. Had he only substituted "wrestling" for "basketball" I would have wholeheartedly agreed, but basketball? Iowa isn't even one of the top five Big Ten basketball programs, let alone one of the premier basketball programs in the country. I cannot in good faith let his comment slide. Let's take a look at some statistics and facts that perhaps slipped Barta's mind when he was discussing his "premier" program:

• NCAA Championships: 0
• NCAA Championship Game appearances: 1 (1956)
• Final Four appearances: 3
• Final Four appearances since Reagan was elected President: 0 (last was in 1980)
• Number of Big Ten teams who have been to a Final Four since 1980: 7 (Indiana (4), Michigan State (4), Michigan (3), Illinois (2), Ohio State (2), Wisconsin (1), Minnesota (1))
• Number of times Iowa has been a #1 seed in the NCAA tournament: 0
• Number of Elite Eight appearances: 4
• Number of Elite Eight appearances since 1980: 1
• Last Elite Eight appearance: 1987
• Number of Sweet 16 appearances: 7
• Number of Sweet 16 appearances since 1980: 4
• Last Sweet 16 appearance: 1999
• Last NCAA tournament victory: 2001
• Total NCAA tournament appearances: 22 (4th in the Big Ten behind Indiana (34), Illinois (27), and Ohio State (24))
• Number of NCAA tournament appearances in last 10 years (1998-2007): 4 (7th in Big Ten behind Michigan State (10), Illinois (9), Wisconsin (9), Indiana (8), Ohio State (6), and Purdue (5)). In addition, Iowa has gone to as many NCAA tournaments in the last 10 years as such other premier basketball programs as BYU, Cal, Davidson, Georgia Tech, Holy Cross, Iona, Miami (FL), Mississippi, Mississippi State, Murray State, Nevada, UNC-Wilmington, Notre Dame, Oregon, Texas Tech, and Tulsa, and fewer NCAA tournaments than what I will deem "super-premier programs," such as Butler, Charlotte, Creighton, George Washington, Gonzaga, Kent State, Missouri, Penn, Pitt, Southern Illinois, Tennessee, Utah State, Wake Forest, Washington, Winthrop, and Xavier.
• NCAA tournament record: 27-24, .529 (winning percentage is 9th in Big Ten behind Michigan (41-19, .683), Indiana (60-29, .674), Michigan State (41-20, .672), Ohio State (42-22, .656), Wisconsin (17-12, .586), Illinois (38-28, .576), Purdue (28-21, .571), and Minnesota (12-9, .571) (all records include games played to this point in this year's NCAA tournament)
• NCAA tournament record since 1980: 17-17, .500 (winning percentage is tied for 9th in Big Ten with Penn State (3-3, .500) behind Michigan (26-11, .703), Michigan State (31-16, .660), Indiana (38-22, .633), Ohio State (20-12, .625), Minnesota (11-8, .579), Illinois (29-22, .569), Wisconsin (13-11, .542), and Purdue (20-18, .526) (all records include games played to this point in this year's NCAA tournament)
• Big Ten regular season titles: 8 (tied for 8th with Minnesota behind Purdue, Indiana, Illinois, Ohio State, Wisconsin, Michigan, and Michigan State -- and only 2 more titles than the University of Chicago, who withdrew from the Big Ten in 1946)
• Last Big Ten regular season title: 1979 (the only longer drought is Northwestern (1933), not including Penn State, who has not won a title since it joined the Big Ten in 1993, and not including the University of Chicago (1924))
• Naismith, Wooden, Rupp, or Oscar Robertson Award winners: 0
• Chicago Tribune Silver Basketball winners (MVP of Big Ten): 3 (tied with Wisconsin for 8th behind Indiana (15), Ohio State (10), Illinois (7), Michigan State (7), Michigan (6), Minnesota (4), and Purdue (4))
• Last Chicago Tribune Silver Basketball winner: 1968 (the immortal Sam Williams)

In case you've been reading this, but for some reason not paying attention, here is a list of how many years its been since Iowa accomplished various premier tasks:

• NCAA tournament victory: 6
• Sweet 16: 8
• Elite Eight: 20
• Final Four: 27
• Big Ten regular season title: 28
• Chicago Tribune Silver Basketball winner: 39
• Championship game appearance: 51

Clearly this is one of the premier college basketball programs, not only of the past 25 years, but of all-time. Alford had good reason to leave when his AD is so horribly deluded as to the state of his school's basketball program. That's like IU's AD denying head football coach Terry Hoeppner an upgraded practice facility because "Indiana is one of the traditional Big Ten powerhouse programs that can stand alone on its name, rather than having to rely on state-of-the-art facilities." Maybe "premier" has a different definition in Iowa than in the rest of the world, like "mediocre," "second-class," or "sub-par."

Thank you Gary Barta for making me ruin my lunch hour looking up stats to prove you wrong. I hate you. Luckily, I have one of the premier blogs on the World Wide Web, so you will no doubt read this.

Wherever, Whenever

Well, the weekend ended just as it began: to the not-too-faint musings of a Columbian songstress. Friday morning, on a jam-packed rush hour Brown Line train, I had the pleasure of standing next to some dude deafening himself to the sounds of Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie." I thought it might be some sort of mix of last year's hits, but then the next song featured the very same recognizable voice of Shakira.

During my lunch hour on Friday I prepared half of what I thought was a mildly amusing comparison of the Elite 8 teams to a legendary eight-song album. I then forgot to email it to my Yahoo account, thus leaving it on my work computer desktop. So infuriated at myself was I that, as punishment, I forced myself to finish the comparison and post it anyway, giving it a date of Saturday so as to give the appearance that it was timely and horrifyingly poignant.

Friday after work Jester and I felt like a mellow night, so we went to Chi-Town Tap for some dinner. As she dined on a $2 burger, I dined on a $10 vegetarian burrito. Fucking Lent. Actually the burrito was pretty good, but that's neither here nor there.

The most important discovery during our dining experience at Chi-Town Tap was that some dude with really long sideburns came in and ordered a Guinness. This may not seem strange to you, but I recognized this SOB as Dildo, our waiter from a few months back at Merlo, who served us low-grade dog meat and disappeared for 50 minutes at a time. Now I know why. This asshole actually walked down to Chi-Town Tap from Merlo (a few doors down) on his break to have a beer and a smoke. He did this several times in the hour and a half to two hours we were at Chi-Town Tap. Rot in hell, you automatic-eighteen-percent-for-parties-of-six-or-more-receiving bastard. I was so pissed that I went home and played Wii.

By Saturday morning the anger had worn off. In the early afternoon, Jester and I headed down to Greektown to have lunch with one of Jessie's former art history masters classmates, Maria del Mar (that is her first name), and her husband Antonio, both of whom are working on PhDs, with MDM down in Champaign getting a PhD in art history and Antonio at University of Chicago getting a PhD in history. I'm fairly confident that of all the tables in the Parthenon (the restaurant in Greektown, not temple to Athena on the Acropolis, Kevin -- man, you are so dense sometimes), our table had the most degrees (ten, not including their PhDs). Yeah, I know, pretty fucking awesome. To celebrate this accomplishment, I had some calamari and shrimp salad (which was excellent) and some rotisserie-roasted lamb. Praise Demeter! Fucking pagans.

Saturday night Jester and I (and Tracey for an hour or so) watched The Departed, which neither Jessie nor I had seen. Maybe because it was hyped as "totally awesome" and such, but I was a little disappointed. Don't get me wrong -- please don't get me wrong -- I liked it. But I just didn't think it was as good as everyone made it out to be. I'm sure my opinion would have been different had I seen it months ago, before having to go through months of "Have you seen The Departed yet? You should because it's totally awesome." So thanks to all of my so-called friends who ruined it for me. It's like what happened with Son In Law all over again. "Aww hell Walter, it's just a joke." Not to me Theo. Not to me.

Meanwhile, Peyton Manning hosted Saturday Night Live. While I didn't view any of the show, I was sent a link for a hilarious United Way commercial spoof they did. Bravo. Thanks to Joe for the link.

Sunday morning, Jessie (along with Ari, Tana, Kyla, Alex, Luke, and 40,000+ others) ran in the Shamrock Shuffle, an 8K race to benefit cirrhosis in the Irish community, I assume. After hearing Jessie concoct various excuses as to why she would not run the race, I am proud to say that she ran the entire thing, finishing at 53 minutes and some change, shattering her previous record of zero.

At some point late Sunday morning, most Chicagoans awoke. They did not find rain (as had been predicted), but rather temperatures in the 70s and the sun shining. At around 11:15, you could actually hear the city have a collective orgasm, as people rushed to beer gardens, parks, and sidewalks. People were everywhere, walking around in shorts, scared shitless that this would be their last opportunity to do so. It's amazing how a hint of nice weather brings EVERYONE out of their houses, except the homeless of course. They were already there.

Meanwhile, I celebrated the occasion by opening some windows, playing some Wii, taking Harley to the dog park (where she exhibited classic dogtistic behavior, often standing around looking aimlessly at nothing, all the while probably counting the number of links in the fence), and eventually meeting up with the Shamrock Shufflers at the beer garden at Justin's, a bar that I had not set foot in since I ruined myself there last June. There's nothing more that Chicagoans enjoy than drinking during the day in beer gardens, and with good reason. You have no idea how scared I am that it was my last opportunity to do so.

In other news, with Georgetown's victory over North Carolina, for the first time in my bracket-predicting life, I have all four Final Four teams -- and I have TWO brackets with all four. Granted, I filled out like 16 brackets, so unless Niagara made it to the Final Four, I was pretty much covered. And it's not like I was the only person in my pools to pick the Final Four correctly. Oh for God's sake, just let me have this one. If Florida beats Georgetown for the championship, I will win two pools. The fact that I just wrote that sentence ensures that it will not happen.

In somewhat related news, if you are interested in applying for the head men's basketball coach at the University of Michigan, you can start the process by clicking on this link. So that's what the Michigan basketball program has come to. Koo-koo-ka-choo Rumeal Robinson, boosters love you more than you will know. Where have you gone Rob Pelinka, their nation turns their lonely eyes to you.

This morning as I was trying to read some Beatles-related prose on the train, I kid you not, there was a guy blaring Shakira from his iPod. I couldn't tell if it was the same guy, but I'll be damned if I didn't start dancing.

So Anna Nicole died of an overdose? No shit. I should be a coroner.

Meanwhile, tonight Christoff, Jester, and I went to Half Shell for dinner. We put down crab legs with the vigor and purpose of a hard-up soldier in a Vietnamese whore house. Man it was good. If you're ever in the mood to gorge on fat crab legs, this is the place to do it.

I know you've been waiting all week for the GMYH Tournament Challenge update, so here it is:
1. Holt (95 points): Florida over Georgetown
2. Adam (88 points): Florida over UNC
3. Jaleh (83 points): IU over Georgetown
4. GMYH (61 points): Florida over Texas
5. Yeh (55 points): Texas A&M over UCLA

It looks like Holt pretty much as it wrapped up. Congratulations Holt. You win nothing.

Elite Eight Lies

If someone can compare the Sweet 16 teams to the 16 songs on Poison's greatest hits album (frankly I'm pissed that I didn't think of it), then surely the same can be done for the Elite 8. I would have waited until the Final Four, but aside from Disc Two of The Allman Brothers Band's The Fillmore Concerts, I can't think of an album with only four songs on it. If you're lucky, sometime next week I'll compare the Final Four teams to "Hot 'Lanta," "Whipping Post," "Mountain Jam," and "Drunken Hearted Boy," but seriously, only if you're lucky.

Back to the Elite 8 comparison. What album could possibly merit such degradation? It was tough finding an album with only eight songs, since most albums these days have at least ten songs. Nonetheless, there are several possibilities:

Led Zeppelin's untitled fourth album (known to some as IV and to others as Zoso and to others as Runes and to others as )? I know it well, as do the masses, which makes it a strong candidate. However, no team is worthy of comparison to "Stairway to Heaven" (and I don't think there are any teams that, if played backwards, would arguably praise Satanism). Had I been making this comparison last year, I would have used this album for the sole fact that LSU would have been perfect for "When the Levee Breaks."

Bruce Springsteen's 1975 epic, Born to Run? Another one with mass popularity, although I don't think its subject matter meshes well with the NCAA tournament. Also, it would be an insult to Bruce Springsteen to compare Ohio State to any of the songs from this album.

Black Sabbath's Paranoid? Unfortunately, not everyone is as familiar with this album as I am. Sure, Memphis would be "Rat Salad" and Kansas would be "Electric Funeral." And I think we can all agree that UCLA would be "Hand of Doom." But frankly, I'm not comfortable with the notion that any remaining team fits squarely within the realm of "Jack the Stripper/Fairies Wear Boots," unless one of the teams was attacked by a gang of skinheads, in which case I am way off about the song's applicability.

The Rolling Stones's Forty Licks? No, that has thirty-two songs too many.

Captain Beefheart & His Magical Band's 1968 sophomore effort, Strictly Personal? I eliminated this from contention because I have to be honest. This will probably come as a surprise to you, but I have never heard a single song from this album. In fact, I'm embarrassed to say that I have only heard one Captain Beefheart song in my life -- which I'm sure all of you are familiar with -- "She's Too Much For My Mirror" off of 1970's Trout Mask Replica. I know Strictly Personal is probably the most popular of all the eight-song albums, but I have to pass based on my own unfamiliarity with it.

I know what you're thinking: "GMYH, not only can I not believe your lack of knowledge about Strictly Personal, but you're forgetting about one of the greatest eight-song albums of all-time! I hate you so much right now." Fair reader, I have not forgotten. For I was just getting to that. More appropriate than any other eight-song album I can think of is Guns N' Roses's eight-song follow-up to Appetite for Destruction, 1988's GN'R Lies. As I'm sure you know, the first four songs were live songs recorded in 1986, before GN'R got big, and the second four are acoustic songs, recorded in the studio.

Reckless Life - Ohio State
Like the subject matter of the song, OSU is both young and energetic. Both Greg Oden and Mike Conley, Jr. hold "million dollar visions," and hopefully both of them will go to the NBA after this season is over.

I lead a reckless life
And I don't need your advice

This line seems to suit Oden, who has been fairly unwilling to listen to people telling him to go to the NBA, meanwhile leading a reckless student life at OSU taking such classes as basketball. Yep, basketball. That is what I call reckless.

Nice Boys - Memphis
This Rose Tattoo cover is out of control and reeks of decadence and self-indulgence.

I'm not a nice boy, and I never was
. . .
But now she lays in a filthy room
She kills the pain with a fuck and a spoon

I can't think of a better song to describe John Calipari and Memphis, both of whom have been shady for a long time now. You may recall Memphis (then Memphis State) had to vacate their 1985 Final Four appearance because of NCAA infractions. There's something about John Calipari that screams "I run a dirty program." Maybe it was the 1996 Final Four appearance at UMass that was vacated because of NCAA infractions. I know, I know. It's tough to believe that Marcus Camby to accepted $28,000 from sports agents under Calipari's watchful eye. Where were Padilla and Travieso on that one?

In late 2004, several Memphis players had their apartment broken into. They told the police that over $60,000 worth of possessions were stolen, including $2,500 worth of diamond jewelry, $4,000 in custom made shirts, $6,000 in SHOES, and well over $40,000 in -- wait for it -- FUR COATS. There are three -- and only three -- possibilities here: (1) they were all fashion design majors and made their own fur coats, designer shirts, and designer shoes; (2) they were lying their asses off; or (3) outside of Pau Gasol, they are the best-paid basketball players in Memphis. Fuck and a spoon, my friends. Fuck and a spoon.

Move to the City - Oregon
In this year's tournament, as the lowest remaining seed (a 3 -- egad!), they're the school that doesn't belong in the Elite 8. Thus, like the main character in the song, they packed their bags to move to the city (St. Louis, in this case), only to discover that it's not all shits and giggles, considering they have to play defending champ Florida. Plus, out of all the teams left, they are the most faceless (if that makes sense at all), without a household name or a household reputation. Thus, they tend to get swallowed up by the other seven teams. But that's what they wanted. They, they had to move to the city.

Mama Kin - Florida
This Aerosmith cover starts out with the most defining lyric of the song:

It ain't easy livin' like a gypsy

My grandma hated gypsies. They steal babies and goats from good, hardworking people. It is for these reasons that I'm positive she would have hated this year's Florida Gators. Unless and until you can prove to me that Joakim Noah does not put hexes on other teams after stealing and sacrificing their chickens, then I will refuse to believe otherwise.

Patience - UCLA
This has to be UCLA, given their plodding, deliberate style of play. Plus, I think I heard that Ben Howland loves to whistle. Additionally, I am under the assumption that the streets on UCLA's campus have not changed, but, baby, the names . . . have. I ain't got time for this game.

Used to Love Her - Kansas
I feel like Kansas might be the most overrated "elite" basketball program, considering they've won two national titles, just as many as the likes of NC State, UConn, Louisville, Cincinnati, Michigan State, Oklahoma A&M (now Oklahoma State), and the University of San Francisco. Nonetheless, Kansas is always mentioned as one of the top basketball programs. Thus, I would be much happier if Kansas was dead, and it brings me great pleasure every year when Kansas loses to a lower-seeded team. Eat it Naismith.

I used to love her
But I had to kill her
. . .
She bitched so much
She drove me nuts
And now I'm happier this way
. . .
I had to put her
Six feet under
And I can still hear her complain

After dealing with Kansas fans during their first round game, it also appears to me that they might be the type of fans who whine when the smallest thing doesn't go their way. For instance, they were up by 40 and still bitching about a foul that was called. Speaking of still being able to hear people complain, if Illinois was still in the tournament, I'm not sure there have ever been words sung by William Axl Rose Bailey that more accurately reflect an NCAA team's fan base than the last stanza quoted up there.

You're Crazy - North Carolina
Tyler Hansbrough, aka "Psycho T," alone gives UNC enough crazy to garner the "You're Crazy" title. The look in his eyes after he was elbowed in the nose a few weeks ago by Duke's Gerald Henderson suggested that he's "fuckin' crazy," in the words of the song.

I've been lookin' for a trace
Lookin' for a heart
Lookin' for a lover in the world that's much to dark
You don't want my love
You want satisfaction
You don't need my love
You gotta find yourself another
Piece of the action

No one wants or needs UNC's love. Furthermore, it seems like UNC is always "lookin' for a heart." You didn't look at this year's North Carolina team and think, "Man, those guys have a ton of heart. They sure are scrappy." No, you thought, "Man, that Hansbrough kid sure is fuckin' crazy." The song also explains why so many UNC players leave school early to enter the NBA draft: trying to find themselves another piece of the action.

One in a Million - Georgetown
I actually feel bad having to compare any team to this song, since the song itself is controversial and manages to offend just about every demographic. Having said that, Georgetown was the only team left, so I will try to force some sort of comparison.

You know we tried to reach you
But you were much too high

Georgetown is located in Washington, DC. Marion Barry was once (twice) mayor of Washington, DC. Marion Barry was caught on tape smoking crack while he was the mayor. Thus, if someone had been trying to call him at that point, he probably would have been much too high. The song also mentions immigrants. Patrick Ewing is originally from Jamaica. His son, Patrick Ewing, Jr., currently plays for Georgetown, and once played at Indiana. Axl Rose is from Indiana, and he said that the song is about his frequent bus trips from Indiana to LA during the period of time before GN'R got famous. So there you go. You are undoubtedly dumber for having read this.

Midwestern Eavesdropping - 3/22/07

It's been a few weeks. Get ready to deal with this:

Bitter 27-year-old male, to waitress: "Which one do you recommend, the Black Forest sandwich or the Mahi Mahi sandwich?"
Waitress: "I really like the Black Forest sandwich."
Bitter male: "I'll have the Mahi Mahi."
--Beavercreek, OH, Fox & Hound
Eavesdropper: GMYH

Drunk 26-year-old female Iowa alum: "Dude whatever, fuck that. I'd fuck Julie Cooper. She's hot." (several minutes later) "Dude, what the fuck? She's fuckin' hot. I'd fuck her. It's cool. Don't even worry about it. And I would."
--Chicago, Fadó Irish Pub, Clark & Grand
Eavesdroppers: RDC, Gregerson

Two girls whose conversation to this point has NOTHING to do with cats:
Girl 1: "Oh I totally love corn puffs. I eat them all the time, I totally love them."
Girl 2: "Yea, I'm so all over cocoa puffs. Cats love cocoa puffs."
--Chicago, Brown Line train
Eavesdropper: KBo

Crowded bar. Asshole in blue Duke bandanna and sweatshirt trying to convince so-so girl to come home with him:
Duke Douche: "I just can't believe how well my life is going. I mean, I'm one year out of school and I'm going to top six figures."
Girl: "Wow, that's great."
Duke Douche: "I mean, I'm one year out of school, and I made 30,000 in January alone."
Girl: "Nice work."
Burly Guy (turning around): "Dude are you seriously talking about how much money you made last month?"
Duke Douche (sizing up, then dismissing Burly Dude): "Envy is ugly, guy."
Burly Guy: "Get the fuck out of my bar."
Duke Douche: "Real funny, guy. Get lost."
Burly Guy (waving to someone): "There's two ways this can go down. One, you walk out of here. Two, this guy throws you out of here."
Duke Douche: "Fuck off, dude, seriously. How much can I pay you to fuck off?"
Burly Guy: "I own this fucking place. You've been paying me all night, assface."
[Bouncer grabs guy by back of pants and back of shirt and hustles him through the crowd, then out the door. Girl watches, barely interested.]
Burly Guy (yelling after him): "Never come back here, you cocksucker. Not tomorrow, not in a year. I never forget a cocksucker I kick out of my bar!"
--Chicago, Mad River Bar & Grill, Sheffield & George
Eavesdropper: RobD

Two twentysomething females browse DVDs, discussing which movies to buy:
Girl 1: "Why don't you get on the guide to the 1000 best movies ever?"
Girl 2: "Because I think that's too many."
--Chicago, Border's, Clark & Broadway
Eavesdropper: GMYH

26-year-old female, while discussing with friends whether it would be better to have a tapeworm or be pregnant: "I'd rather have a tapeworm. I'd feel less guilty about killing it."
--Chicago, in a car
Eavesdroppers: RDC and Gregerson

Partner: "I'm leaving tomorrow for Colorado."
Associate: "Oh, where are you going?"
Partner: "Colorado Springs."
Associate: "That's one of my favorite cities."
Partner: "Oh really. Why?"
Associate: "I think I was conceived there."
--Chicago, law office, Wacker & Madison
Eavesdropper: GMYH

Receptionist: "So what are you in town for? Going out with friends?"
Student: "Nah, I went out last night. Tonight I have to head back to school."
Receptionist: "Oh, that's too bad. How is school going?"
Student: "Pretty well, it's almost over, suddenly."
Receptionist: "Do you like it?"
Student: "Sometimes. Other times I sit in class and kind of want to--"
Receptionist: "I have a really cute niece. She just graduated from U of I."
Student: "--Uh, oh, yeah? What does... she... um, do?"
Receptionist: "She works for a PR firm."
Student: "That's, um... great. Cool. Yeah, cool."
--Chicago, law firm, Washington & Wacker
Eavesdropper: RobD

Thanks to everyone who contributed. Keep those ears open. When you overhear something funny, email it to gmyhblog@yahoo.com for inclusion in the next mindnumbingly hilarious edition of Midwestern Eavesdropping.

A Couple Solid Videos

Here are some sweet video links:

• "The Mii Lebowski" - especially funny if you have, or are familiar with, a Wii. I have a Wii, so it like totally speaks to me. If you are at work, you will want to turn the volume down, unless your boss and/or co-workers regularly watch Lebowski. Thanks to Tradd for the link.
• Some stoned, possibly retarded (?) Southerner talking and then playing a badass version of the Rocky theme (as if there's such thing as an unbadass version). Thanks to Gregerson for the link.
• A reenactment of the glorious "I'm so . . . scared" scene from Saved By The Bell with Jesus and Hitler. I'm not sure whether it's offensive, funny, or both. Thanks to Tron for the link. Probably NSFW, unless you work with both Christians and Nazis.
• A sweet video about why Duke sucks. "You even suck at rape." Thanks to Jaleh for the link. Probably NSFW, unless you work only with Duke haters.

It Seems Like 1,000

Well, this is a monumental moment in GMYH History: the 500th post. Fittingly, it will be longwinded, often angry, and occasionally funny. Thanks to everyone who actually reads this crap everyday. It's pretty much all I have.

Here is a not-so-brief recap of the past few days:

Thursday
TG came to town to visit for the weekend. As you may or may not know, he shares a birthday with former Toronto Blue Jays manager Cito Gaston, which happened to be Saturday. As you may or many not know, he has yet to come to grips with the fact that this was not his 26th, 27th, 28th, or 29th birthday.

A few peeps came over to watch the IU/Gonzaga game. It was nice to see the Hoosiers take down Gonzaga this year (we lost to them in the second round of last year's NCAA tournament). It was also nice not to see Adam Morrison. Even with his absence this year, Gonzaga still has plenty of players from last year's team, which I think we can all agree was the ugliest team in college basketball.

Friday
After a hellishly busy day (and week) at work, I hit up Rocks to get some dinner and watch some basketball. Joining me were TG, Kyla, Alex, Jester, and Ari, as well as several hundred others. While there, I had the pleasure of watching Illinois blow a 13-point lead to become the only Big Ten team to lose their first round NCAA tournament game. Are we elite yet? For some reason there were a bunch of Kansas fans there as well. They seem to be fairly annoying and relatively unwelcoming of strangers asking them if they will be using what appear to be unused chairs.

After a delightful dinner, TG, Jester, and I went over to Chi-Town Tap for $1 bottles, which is always a good thing, even if the average age in Chi-Town Tap is 19. We met up with Christoff, Gregerson, Jodie, and some of Jodie's friends that Gregerson may or may not have been pederasting.

In case you weren't one of the people in Chicago Friday or Saturday night, you may not know that Saturday was Tony's birthday. Certainly if you were at Chi-Town Tap on Friday night, you have no doubt, although you may have been led to believe that Saturday was his 26th birthday.

Saturday
Saturday was one of those days in the widow maker category. I effectively shortened my lifespan by anywhere from one day to four years on Saturday. It all started innocently, as Christoff, Jodie, and I headed to Lucky Dog to put our dogs in hock for the day so that we could imbibe gallons of alcohol to celebrate St. Patrick ridding Ireland of snakes. A trip to McDonald's proved to be genius, as a sausage McMuffin with egg and a Shamrock Shake provided exactly the kind of base I needed for the day.

Christoff had grown a horrible looking handlebar mustache. Unfortunately I do not have a picture of it.

At around 11:30, Christoff, Jodie, Jessie, and I went to Schoolyard Tavern. When we got there, it was fairly empty. By 1, it was packed. Luckily Jodie scavenged a table in a pretty good spot.

Here's one: there was a sign advertising a St. Patrick's Day special of $6 for a pint of Smithwick's (that's pronounced "smit-ick's," and it's a poor man's Newcastle). Christoff asked the waitress (whose skin was an odd orange hue), "If it's $6 today, what does it usually cost?" The answer was a fantastic "$4.75." That's right, they jacked up the price for St. Patrick's Day.

Here's the part where I go off on Four Corners Tavern Group (who own Schoolyard and several other bars, including the new IU bar, Kirkwood). Fuck Four Corners Tavern Group for pulling that shit. That's bush league. I know they recently opened an IU bar and all, but give me a break. Sure, it's just business, but from the little I have learned about them, they don't seem like the kind of bars that care about anything more than making money. Anyone can make a plastic bar and put an IU flag outside of it and call it an IU bar. Where are the AMFs? Where's the Sink we were promised? Why are there only like three things on the walls that have anything to do with IU? Why is there a DJ instead of a jukebox? Needless to say, I'm not all that impressed with Kirkwood. Now I'm not that impressed with Four Corners Tavern Group as a whole. Maybe my attitude will temper as the weather gets nicer and I have the opportunity to enjoy Kirkwood's vast bier garten. Fucking Nazis. Nothing changes.

But I digress. Jessie left about 5 minutes after we got to Schoolyard to go to a nearby house party. She showed up about an hour later with Mark, an Aussie from Seattle that she knows through a friend, who happened to be in town for work. From what I've gathered, his company is in the business of getting hammered all day while watching the NCAA tournament. I'm hoping they have some openings because I feel that I'm more than qualified.

Gregerson also showed up, and there may have been others. We started playing quarters, which is always a good thing, especially when you play with rules. My favorite rule from the day was that you have to stand when you speak. The game then devolves into what looks like that game at Chucky Cheese with the little gophers that pop up and you try to whack. At one point, we had all of the following rules in effect: (1) stand when you speak, (2) no pointing, (3) no first names, (4) no pronouns, (5) no last names, (6) you have to drink with your nondominant hand, and (7) you can't say "drink" or any variation thereof. It must have been an odd thing to be looking in on.

At some point during our stay at Schoolyard, the Ohio State/Xavier game. Some girl -- we'll call her Odena -- asked Jessie if Greg Oden had fouled out. At that time, he had not yet done so, prompting Jessie to respond, "No, but I wish he was fouled out." Odena was about as good looking as Leonard Maltin, but not nearly as amiable nor as knowledgeable obout film. She did not take kindly to Jessie's insinuation that anyone would want THE Greg Oden -- Odena's namesake, by the way -- to foul out. It turns out Odena is an OSU fan, and therefore is unable to go more than five minutes without (1) acting obnoxious, (2) showing everyone the giant chip on her shoulder, or (3) starting a fight with someone who is not an Ohio State fan. Ergo, in the spirit of the day, Jessie and Odena start acting all Irish, talking shit to each other, nearly coming to fisticuffs. Luckily Mark was there to smooth things over.

Meanwhile, Oden conveniently didn't get called for an intentional foul, despite the fact that his arms were fully extended as he chucked Justin Cage (I think) to the ground. Nonetheless, the NCAA would rather have Greg Oden in the Sweet 16 than Justin Cage, so an intentional foul was not called, Cage missed the 2nd free throw, and OSU came down and tied it up at the buzzer, eventually winning in overtime, prompting Odena to come back over to Jessie and say "Nice game" in an angry tone. This prompted Jodie to say something along the lines of "Walk away. No one's fucking talking to you."

Thankfully, Odena's friend was level-headed and the second near-fight was avoided. Soon after, we left Schoolyard because it was far too packed and Jessie's a big fire code nut. It took us 10 minutes just to get out of there.

After that, we headed to Lawry's, the dive bar a block from our house. It was NOT very crowded, which was more than welcome. At some point, the following people showed up (although not all at once): Ari, Tana, Tracey, TG, the Brothers Weeser* (minus Greg of course), Noreen, Uter Von Widenhofer, McClure, Katie, Sean, Bridget, Slange, Patty, Michelle, Goni, and Noble. It was a regular par-tay. Greg, Mark, and I realized that we hadn't eaten since breakfast, and since it was somewhere between 3 and 6, we figured it was time for some pizza. So, we walked down Diversey to Papa Romeo's and inhaled a pizza in about 5 minutes with little regard for the roofs of our mouths.

Upon our return to Lawry's we drank more. This picture may or may not have been taken:

Here's Mark and Tana.

At some point between 11am and 5pm, we found out that the IU/UCLA game was not going to be on the local CBS feed, so a bunch of us headed back to my house to watch the IU game. For some reason, we ordered more pizza.


If you saw the game, you will likely agree with me when I say that the first half might have been the hardest-to-watch half of basketball since they stopped having a jump ball after every made basket. The score at halftime was 20-13, UCLA. In the second half, the Hoosiers decided to put themselves in a 16-point hole before making a blinding comeback to tie the game at 49 with less than 2 minutes left. At that point, they decided that they had done enough and thus gave UCLA the final 5 points of the game. What's most maddening is that IU -- a team that shots somewhere around 70% from the free throw line -- shot 10-21 from the line.

Distraught from the game, most people decided to call it a day. Not Jessie, TG, Mark, Tracey, Uter, Ari, and I. Having not consumed quite enough alcohol throughout the course of the day, we decided to go to Chi-Town Tap for a few more drinks. While we were there, several things of note happened. First, most of us had at least one Red Bull & vodka, which allowed me to catch my fifth wind, and had adverse effects (discussed later).


Second, there was a very large bag of douche playing pool behind us. Only through crafty side maneuvers were we able to catch this wiley sack of crap on camera.

Seriously, nothing like a neon green sweater vest to honor St. Patrick. At least the white baseball cap with a flat bill, tilted to the side made him respectable.


Third, Tracey took the trip to Chi-Town Tap as an opportunity to figure out a use for those necklaces with Jamison discs.


A monacle?

Perhaps spectacles?

Maybe the body of Christ?

Nope, the only worthwhile use is over-the-shirt nipple covers.

Once Tracey figured out a use for the Jamison discs, two collegiate-aged females were so excited that they went up the nearest guy with a plaid blazer they could find and just started making out in front of him.

Tony was so happy that he started dancing.

The dancing bug wasn't easily squashed, and Tony decided that he needed to stay out even later. Next stop: The Vu. Everyone else had long since gone home. But dammit, it was TG's birthday and he wanted to drink some more. Much of my time at the Vu was spent standing speechless in a haze watching drunk assholes try to grind on unwilling females. Dance clubs might be the best people-watching venues on the face of the earth.


My clock read 4:15 when my head hit the pillow.

Sunday
I was awakened by the gentle screaming of the alarm clock at 8am. Thanks to the Red Bull, my heart was attempting to escape. As I lay in bed for the next 3 and a half hours cursing myself and asking why I drank for over 16 hours in honor of an Irishmen, Jessie was out at Toys R Us with Christoff and Jodie buying a Wii. See you motherfuckers in three years.

Monday
All I could think about the whole day was Wii and my inability to play it at work. My upper back was sore (and still is) from homerun derby, tennis, bowling, boxing, and golf. Monday night I reached "Pro" status in bowling, thanks in large part to a 246 I rolled. I know -- pretty fuckin' awesome. In addition, you can hook the Wii up to the internet and download games from Nintendo, Super Nintendo, Nintendo 64, Sega Genesis, and TurboGrafx-16 for anywhere between $5 and $10, depending on the game. The selection isn't huge, but I did download Excitebike, Ice Hockey, and Tecmo Bowl. I'm hoping the following games will become available: RBI Baseball, Castlevania, Pro Wrestling, Baseball Stars, RC Pro-Am, Kung Fu, Wizards & Warriors, Karate Kid, T&C Surf Design, Paper Boy (do the ditty), and California Games.

Tuesday
Aside from getting hornswaggled in trivia, Tuesday was uneventful, aside from one particular incident. Tuesday afternoon I was in the bathroom at work and experienced a new breed of fecal phantom. Some rotten bastard walked into a stall, sat down, farted once, wiped, and exited the stall. This type of thing doesn't happen by accident. No, this shit (pun and irony intended) was premeditated. At least he washed his hands afterward. I am so confused by people's bathroom antics.

In unrelated news, check out this link that compares this year's Sweet 16 teams to the 16 songs on Poison's greatest hits album. If only IU had won, I'm pretty sure they could have taken over "Fallen Angel."

Wednesday
Ever catch a whiff of something that immediately reminds you of something from your distant past? That happened to me today at work, around lunchtime. I was sitting in my office, minding my own business, when a smell wafted in that was so palpably familiar that within a second I was back in the cafeteria of Brill Elementary School in Spring, Texas (where I went to kindergarten and first grade). I have no idea exactly what the smell is, except that it is undoubtedly a mass-produced cafeteria-esque entrée, likely involving the combination of potatoes, gravy, and some sort of meat (possibly Salisbury steak). While familiar, it was not necessarily desirable, although it did take me back to a much simpler time, when all I had to worry about was soccer, Earl Campbell, Dukes of Hazzard, and the Astros. And AIDS.

On a brighter note, The Hold Steady released its second video off the Boys and Girls in America album, "Stuck Between Stations." It's a pretty good video, aside from the fact that the drummer is wearing a Rush t-shirt. I hate Rush almost as much as I hate Steely Dan. The video also gives a nice look at lead singer Craig Finn's spasmodic stage movements. "She was a really good kisser, but she wasn't all that strict of a Christian." I think that describes every girl I've ever dated. Make sure you watch the whole video. Better yet, I'm almost certain that the statue in The Hold Steady's MySpace picture is that of Phil Lynott, the late lead singer of Thin Lizzy. Well done, gents.

I just found out some horrifying news. Calvert DeForest, better known as Larry "Bud" Melman on Letterman, died today. That dude was hilarious. And with that, this 500th post is dedicated to you, Calvert. Good night sweet prince.

Weekend Recap Tomorrow

I was going to post the weekend recap tonight, but I was too busy getting jobbed in trivia at Rocks. The round chosen by last week's 2nd place team was '80s cartoons, which trivia master Kevin for some reason decided to make an 11-question, 19-point round (as opposed to the standard 10-question, 10-point round). Needless to say, the team that chose the category got 18.5 out of 19, which was 6 points more than the next best team, thus propelling those bastards far past Smurfette Gave Me Blue Balls (comprised of me, Jester, Christoff, and Gregerson). Fuck Dungeons and Dragons, fuck Peyo, fuck categorizing 8 obscure Transformers as Autobots or Decepticons, and fuck Jem's real name. I'm going to sleep very angrily tonight. Acing the music round will not prevent the night terrors this Tuesday night.

I'm So . . . Scared

The Hot Sundae/pep pills episode of Saved By The Bell is on TBS right now. Watch it. Love it.

GMYH Tournament Challenge Standings

Well, the good news is that I'm in 4th. The bad news is that there are only5 people in the GMYH Tournament Challenge. Here are your current standings:

1. Jaleh (I think): 51 (Champ: Indiana over Georgetown. Other 2 Final Four: Florida, Texas A&M) (I like the thought, by the way -- too bad we couldn't hit a fucking free throw to save our life)
2. Holt: 47 (Champ: Florida over Georgetown. Other 2 Final Four: UCLA, Texas A&M)
3. McClure: 44 (Champ: Florida over UNC. Other 2 Final Four: Kansas, Ohio State)
4. GMYH: 41 (Champ: Florida over Texas. Other 2 Final Four: Kansas, Texas A&M)
5. Yeh: 39 (Champ: Texas A&M over UCLA. Other 2 Final Four: Butler, Texas)

Weekend recap will be along tomorrow, assuming I can make up some memories for the haze that was Saturday.

Rockford Pretty Much Sucks

After visiting Dayton a few weeks ago and Detroit last weekend, my parade of visits to economically depressed Midwestern cities continued today, as I had the pleasure of driving to Rockford for a hearing. For a city of 150,000, I was somewhat surprised that there are no buildings taller than about 12 stories. Maybe the tall buildings left with all the manufacturing jobs. Hyooooohhhh! Too soon? Perhaps the residents took native sons' Cheap Trick's recommendation to surrender a little too much to heart. I think someone just needs to tell Rockford that the dream police will come to it in its bed. But seriously, I'm begging Rockford to beg me never to come back, although there was a pretty sweet looking water park at the junction of I-90 and I-39. Maybe that will be Rockford's flame. She's tight.

Next week, I'll be visiting Ft. Wayne, where I will see if anyone knows why the Pistons left.

Dumps and Such

It was an interesting weekend. Friday afternoon I left for the Detroit area, where I was having a work retreat. Sweet. We stayed at the Dearborn Inn, which was nice, and I didn't have to pay for anything while there, which was nice. What wasn't nice was that the IU/Illinois game was on ESPN Plus, and was not being picked up locally in Detroit. Thus, when dinner was over and a bunch of us went to the hotel bar to watch basketball, we had to watch some damn Big East or Big XII game.

Thankfully Jamie "Operation Back Bacon" Belanger was able to give me play-by-play over the phone of the last minute of regulation or overtime. From what I've come to learn, it might have been better for my future with my firm that I didn't see the game, unless for some reason my firm encourages the throwing of half-empty bottles of Newcastle at plasma-screen TVs in swanky hotel bars.

Saturday the retreat got done with at about 2, but my flight wasn't until 6. Rather than sit around at the hotel bar, I went to the airport early, setting up shop at a fairly terrible, very little airport bar called Bricks or something like that. The bartender was a small sixtysomething woman who may as well have been Helen Keller. She couldn't hear worth a damn and she was a low talker.

After I was there for about a half hour, Helen -- despite the fact that three of the other six chairs at the bar were occupied -- decided that I looked like someone who cared that she hired a shitty carpenter to install some walls in her basement, at least that's what I think she said. I just started nodding and saying, "oh yeah, you can't trust anyone these days" every forty-three seconds.

Luckily a nice middle-aged couple from Oxford, Michigan sat down next to me (I was at the corner, so it was good for conversing with strangers). Eventually it came to light that I am a lawyer. Usually I get DUI or wills questions, but this was pretty good. Their story goes like this: a friend of theirs was charged by the FBI with giving confidential military documents to the Chinese embassies in Chicago and DC. The kicker was that their friend is apparently a well-intentioned dunce who has not been to Chicago or DC ever in his life. From what the couple said, their friend was mentally incapable of such activity. Then again, that's what they said about Berkowitz. While they were there, I ordered a Bud Light that Helen legitimately forgot to charge me for.

After they left, the next corner friends happened to be some dude in med school at Michigan and a cougar looking for a piece from either me or the med student. The three of us had some good conversation, and the cougar bought us beer, which was nice. Also, she unlocked the mystery of why Sonic (the fast food chain, not the Hedgehog) airs commercials in states where no Sonics are located. If you live in Illinois, you know what I'm talking about. Anyway, the cougar used to work for Sonic, and she explained that it is cheaper to buy national cable ad space than space in all the local markets where Sonic is located. So there you go.

By the time I got on the plane, I was drunker than I've been on a plane since my flight to London on spring break 2000 where Shepley and I drank the plane out of several types of whiskey. Luckily this flight was only one hour, instead of eight.

When I touched down at Midway, I was still feeling excellent. I got on the Orange Line and put on my headphones. A couple seconds after the train left, I heard what sounded like someone playing a boombox loudly on the train, so I took my headphones off. A boombox it was not. I should have been so lucky. I kid you not, some pale-faced, scruffy-faced bastard got on the L at Midway and decided that it was time for him to showcase his guitar-playing inability for the entire ride downtown. This dude wasn't homeless or talented. No, this was a mid-20s douchebag who actually thought that everyone else on the car wanted to hear him lose his dignity on public transportation. Very uncouth.

When I arrived back at the homestead drenched in blood and wood splinters, our houseguests Amy and Kip were anxiously awaiting my arrival. After about five minutes, I realized that I had gone far too long without paying someone for a beer, so I left for Kirkwood to meet up with Shepley (yes, the very same Shepley with whom I got drunk on the flight to London nearly 7 years earlier to the day -- oh sweet irony!), who was in town for the Big Ten Tournament.

We then went to the Wrightwood Tap for an all-you-can-drink party to benefit some sort of condition that causes cells to grow uncontrollably. I didn't pay because I was already drunk. Luckily there were plenty of others there to get me free drinks. No amount of drunkenness, however, could have prepared me for what I was to encounter that eve.

At one point, I walked into the bathroom, which is very small (6x12 tops), containing two urinals next to a stall without a door. When you walk into the bathroom, you can see right into the stall. As I walk in, there's a guy at one urinal and a guy standing in the stall. The Stall Guy asks, "So what the hell are you supposed to do if you want to take a shit?" Sweet sister of mercy, I thought he was joking. Not so. In fact, there was nothing funny about his question. This motherfucker dropped trou and took his seat on the throne with no shame whatsoever. I pissed as fast as possible and got the hell out of there knowing that soon the whole bathroom would smell like my old boss's breath. There's nothing quite like seeing a guy taking a shit in a door-less bathroom stall in a crowded bar to join otherwise unacquainted men in laughter. I sincerely hope there was no toilet paper.

Kip was so mentally disturbed by the events that transpired that he bought a pack of 100s on the way home from the bar.

Sunday morning while at the Golden Apple, I was unable to come up with the title of the teen movie starring Sisqo and Vitamin C. Less than one minute after I texted Tron for the answer, he responded with Get Over It.

I'd like to thank the NCAA Tournament Selection Committee for once again sending IU out west, thereby ensuring that I can work a full day and not miss the IU game. How is it that IU, as a 7 seed, gets sent halfway across the country to Sacramento to play Gonzaga, a 10 seed from two states away? And fucking Illinois, who squeaked into the tournament as a 12 seed, gets to play in Columbus? What the fuck? Why bother calling IU a 7 seed, since it obviously gets punished for being a higher seed than its opponent? And then Louisville, as a 6 seed, gets to play essentially two home games (assuming they beat Stanford) down the road in Lexington. Texas A&M -- the 3 seed in that pod, who could potentially play Louisville in the second round -- has to be pissed off about that. To a lesser extent, Butler and should be mildly angry about having to play as higher seeds up in Buffalo against Old Dominion (located in Norfolk, VA for those of you not up on your public universities in Virginia). But they're probably not as pissed off as Florida. Apparently being defending champion means that you get to play Jackson State only 187 miles south of Jackson, while you get to travel 559 miles from Gainsville, across the hurricane-prone Florida Panhandle and Gulf Coast. The fix is on! And boy does 8-seed BYU have to be livid about having to play 9-seed Xavier a mere 89 miles from Cincinnati (but 1673 miles from Provo). You might as well tell the Cougars that they have to play on Sunday.

Don't forget to join the GMYH Tournament Challenge!

GMYH Tournament Challenge

Alright loyal readers, you know you're better than me. It's almost a given at this point. But now you have your chance to prove it in a concrete manner. I have created a March Madness group on Yahoo, aptly entitled Give Me Your Handrew 2007.

Group ID: 38647
Password: gmyh

If the previous link doesn't get you there, go to the Yahoo Tournament Pick 'em home page and click on "Join a Group," then sign in and type in the group ID and password. Then pick your brackets. Unfortunately, Yahoo doesn't allow more than one bracket per person per group. Thus, you will be forced to put your best bracket forward. Make sure to submit your brackets before the first real game starts (Thursday 3/15 at noon EST).

This isn't for money or gold dubloons or bing cherries -- just glory. I wish you all bad luck, particularly Christoff and Anonymous, but not you Xun. I find your social experiment to be more than worthwhile.

Weekend recap will be coming tomorrow. As a teaser, it will involve at least 3 of the following 4 things: (1) Limey bastards, (2) getting hammered at an airport, (3) shitting at a bar, or (4) sobriety.

SBTB and March Madness

If there are two things I know nothing about, it's college basketball and Saved By The Bell, which is why this link (thanks Christoff) is so helpful. The article/post compares each Big Ten team to a Saved By The Bell character. I don't know who this Lady Andrea is, but Jessie, be warned. You have some competition.

Speaking of explosive-orgasm-inducing March Madness banter, it turns out I'm a pretty good MEAC, Southland Conference, and SWAC tournament predictor. Ironically, with Lamar's victory over Sam Houston State, history repeated itself. Memories of Mirabeau Bonaparte Lamar's succession of Sam Houston as the President of the Republic of Texas are no doubt permeating the Lone Star State tonight. Man, schools named after my ancestors' descendants are sure awesome.

Oh, and Midwestern Eavesdropping is postponed yet another week due to lack of submissions. Dammit people, eavesdrop!

Oh, and look for the GMYH March Madness Pool, coming soon to a sometimes entertaining blog near you.

Worst Uniforms Ever

Well, for the 10,721st consecutive day, I didn't win $370 million. If any of you reading this did hit the Mega Millions jackpot in my stead, I invite you to please go fuck yourself, as you now have enough money to figure out a way to do so.

On a brighter note, Zombies. . .Nice Fucking Category (comprised of Gregerson, Christoff, the Brothers Weeser*, minus Greg of course, and me) took the crown last night at trivia at Rocks, despite a round devoted entirely to zombie movies (Tim came through big with "My Boyfriend's Back") and another general trivia round where we got a whopping 4 points (out of 11 or 12 possible). Having given up drinking during the week for Lent, I was unable to enjoy our victory in the shot round, nor was I able to fully appreciate the 25% off the tab, as I only had a bowl of clam chowder that went from $5 to $3.75. I think that was the first time I was in a bar for almost four straight hours and only spent $5.

On a much more somber and confusing note, some Fetal Alcohol Syndrome-plagued Nike designers have decided to try to ruin college basketball uniforms. Florida, Arizona, Ohio State, and Syracuse will unveil new uniforms this week. I'm not sure I've ever seen a more hideously designed sports uniform. Is this some elaborate hoax? I'd like to think so, but then again, this is the same company that designed Oregon's football uniforms. Granted, I'm not the most fashionable person in the world, but I can recognize a travesty of aesthetics when I see it. There is so much wrong with these new uniforms, I can barely spew words onto this page fast enough to account for everything that is going through my mind right now. Plus, it's hard to type while I'm vomiting, laughing, and crying all at the same time.

The first thing that jumped out at me was the fact that the players apparently will no longer be wearing jerseys, but rather they will have their bodies painted to resemble jerseys, not unlike what Sports Illustrated does for its Swimsuit Issue, but unfortunately Marisa Miller has exhausted her college eligibility.

The second thing that bears little resemblance to a basketball uniform is the sprinter-style, Under-Armour-esque sleeves. What the fuck? Since when were college basketball arenas prohibitively cold? Is arm hair causing that much of a wind resistance problem? It's not like Robin Williams is out there playing for the Gators. And if the drag coefficient is an issue, why wouldn't Nike make a skin-tight sprinters hood for Joakim Noah? And why is the guy in the middle only wearing a sleeve on his right arm? Does that mean he's gay? Or does it mean that his left arm is prosthetic and therefore does not need protection from the elements? If that is the case, what if one of the opposing players has a permanent maker? Then what? And why is the guy on the left wearing short sleeves? Unless I am unaware of a recent spike in upper-arm Indian burns during college basketball games, I see no possible benefit to wearing short-sleeve spandex. The only result of wearing these short sleeves is well-deserved ridicule and a punch in the nuts, which apparently may not be an issue (more on that below).

Remember when the Fab Five came into college basketball in the 1991-92 season and started the baggy shorts trend? Frankly, it was probably needed, given that basketball shorts before then tended to show a lot of thigh (see Loyola Marymount star Bo Kimble circa 1990). But Nike's new uniforms look as if they took a small tent and transformed them into shorts. And here I was thinking that men's capri pants were something I would never have to see again. How can someone run in these things without tripping over them? Furthermore, the extra bagginess looks even more ridiculous given the body-painted jerseys. It looks like someone put those old-school wide-hipped pleated trousers on Karen Carpenter, or, more appropriately, the corpse of Karen Carpenter.

According to the article, "Players will also be able to customize their uniforms by adding options like padded shorts (to protect against the errant knee or elbow) and Dwyane Wade-style leg wraps." Padded shorts? That's all well and good for the fellatio-obsessed coed, but I don't think padded shorts would have protected Tyler Hansbrough in any way from the razor-sharp elbow of Gerald Henderson. And are floor burns, dead legs, Charlie horses, and nut shots really that much of a problem that padded shorts are necessary? As far as the Dwyane Wade-style leg wraps, I think Wade has overwhelmingly proven that those do nothing to decrease the chances of getting a separated shoulder.

All in all, this is the worst uniform "innovation" since the NFL banned the single bar helmet. What's next, Captain America gets killed by a sniper's bullet?

Hi, I'm Peyton Manning, Happy Sweet Sixteen!

I don't know if any of you have seen this, but apparently Peyton Manning's dignity only costs $200,000. Granted, my dignity costs much less than that, but I don't make tens of millions dollars a year. If I did, you can better damn well believe that I would be sitting out the sweet sixteen party circuit, instead choosing to have sex with many supermodels at once and sitting on my couch watching Metal Mania and old NFL films. Unless he is paying Mastercard and Nextel for the privilege of endorsing them, then I think Manning should spend more time watching coffee shop workers get third-degree steam burns than being a puppet for hire. Thanks to Christoff for the link.

With the Big Ten Tournament approaching, for a limited time only, I have put I-L-L D-U-I shirts on the GMYH Café Press Store. These shirts honor, not only Rich McBride and Jamar Smith, but also tangentially the many other student-athletes at the University of Illinois who have been arrested for alcohol-related offenses, burglary, possession of stolen goods, and obstruction of justice in the past year. Special inspirational thanks go out to the IU student section for their "I-L-L D-U-I" call-and-response cheer and to Christoff for having his own I-L-L D-U-I shirt made at Strange Cargo. Much to my surprise, the top selling item is the Valley Sucks t-shirt. I guess there are a lot of people out there who also hate those stuck-up Valley bastards. I'm so glad Slater pinned Nedick to put them in their place.

In other news, I got my first George Washington silver dollar coin today -- as change at the Post Office (where else?) -- along with a Sacagawea gold (?) dollar coin. If the Susan B. Anthony dollar didn't work and the Sacagawea dollar didn't work, what the hell makes the US Treasury think the presidential dollar coins are going to be any different? Americans just don't want to deal with more coins than they have to. Granted, dollar coins would be more convenient at vending machines and automatic toll booths, but I'm struggling to come up with anywhere else -- certainly not strip clubs.

Other Conference Tournament Predictions

Because I am addicted to gambl -- I mean college basketball -- and because you care, here are my detailed predictions for the upcoming big conference tournaments. These predictions may or may not match up with my previous predictions (all times are EST):

ACC (Tampa)
FIRST ROUND - Thursday, March 8
Noon - #8 Clemson vs. #9 Florida St.: Clemson
2pm - #5 Maryland vs. #12 Miami: Maryland
7pm - #7 Duke vs. # 10 NC State: Duke
9pm - #6 Georgia Tech vs. # 11 Wake Forest: GT
QUARTERFINALS - Friday, March 9
Noon - #1 North Carolina vs. Clemson: UNC
2pm - #4 Boston College vs. Maryland: Maryland
7pm - #2 Virginia vs. Duke: Duke
9pm - #3 Virginia Tech vs. GT: VT
SEMIFINALS - Saturday, March 10
1:30pm - UNC vs. Maryland: UNC
3:30pm - Duke vs. VT: VT
CHAMPIONSHIP - Sunday, March 11
1pm - UNC vs. VT: UNC

ATLANTIC 10 (Atlantic City)
FIRST ROUND - Wednesday, March 7
Noon - #8 Dayton vs. # 9 Charlotte: Dayton
2:30pm - #5 Fordham vs. #12 Richmond: Fordham
6:30pm - #7 Saint Louis vs. #10 Duquesne: Duquesne
9pm - #6 St. Joseph's vs. #11 Temple: St. Joe’s
QUARTERFINALS - Thursday, March 8
Noon - #1 Xavier vs. Dayton: Xavier
2:30pm - #4 Rhode Island vs. Fordham: Fordham
6:30pm - #2 Massachusetts vs. Duquesne: UMass
9pm - #3 George Washington vs. St. Joe’s: GW
SEMIFINALS - Friday, March 9
6:30pm - Xavier vs. Fordham: Xavier
9pm - UMass vs. GW: UMass
CHAMPIONSHIP - Saturday, March 10
6pm - Xavier vs. UMass: UMass

BIG EAST (New York City)
FIRST ROUND - Wednesday, March 7
Noon - #8 DePaul vs. #9 Villanova: Villanova
2pm - #5 Syracuse vs. #12 Connecticut: UConn
7pm - #7 West Virginia vs. #10 Providence: WV
9pm - #6 Marquette vs. #11 St. John's: Marquette
QUARTERFINALS - Thursday, March 8
Noon - #1 Georgetown vs. Villanova: Georgetown
2pm - #4 Notre Dame vs. UConn: ND
7pm - #2 Louisville vs. WV: Louisville
9pm - #3 Pittsburgh vs. Marquette: Marquette
SEMIFINALS - Friday, March 9
7pm - Georgetown vs. ND: Georgetown
9pm - Louisville vs. Marquette: Marquette
CHAMPIONSHIP - Saturday, March 10
9pm - Georgetown vs. Marquette: Georgetown

BIG 12 (Oklahoma City)
FIRST ROUND - Thursday, March 8
12:30pm - #8 Iowa State vs. #9 Oklahoma: OU
3pm - #5 Texas Tech vs. #12 Colorado: TT
7pm - #7 Oklahoma State vs. #10 Nebraska: OSU
9:20pm - #6 Missouri vs. #11 Baylor: Mizzou
QUARTERFINALS - Friday, March 9
12:30pm - #1 Kansas vs. OU: Kansas
3pm - #4 Kansas State vs. TT: TT
7pm - #2 Texas A&M vs. OSU: A&M
9:20pm - #3 Texas vs. Mizzou: Texas
SEMIFINALS - Saturday, March 10
2pm - Kansas vs. TT: Kansas
4:20pm (hah!) - A&M vs. Texas: Texas
CHAMPIONSHIP - Sunday, March 11
3pm - Kansas vs. Texas: Texas

BIG WEST (Anaheim)
FIRST ROUND - Wednesday, March 7
9pm - #5 UC Irvine vs. #8 UC Riverside: Irvine
11:30pm - #6 Cal State Northridge vs. # 7 Pacific: Pacific
SECOND ROUND - Thursday, March 8
9pm - #3 Cal State Fullerton vs. Pacific: CSF
11:30pm - #4 UC Santa Barbara vs. Irvine: UCSB
SEMIFINALS - Friday, March 9
9:30pm - #1 Long Beach State vs. UCSB: LBSU
Midnight - #2 Cal Poly vs. CSF: CSF
CHAMPIONSHIP - Saturday, March 10
11pm - LBSU vs. CSF: Long Beach State

CONFERENCE USA (Memphis)
FIRST ROUND - Wednesday, March 7
1pm - #7 Rice vs. #10 UTEP: UTEP
3:30pm - #6 Southern Miss vs. #11 SMU: USM
7pm - #8 Marshall vs. #9 UAB: UAB
9:30pm - #5 Tulsa vs. #12 East Carolina: Tulsa
QUARTERFINALS - Thursday, March 8
1pm - #3 Houston vs. USM: Houston
3:30pm - #2 Central Florida vs. UTEP: UCF
7pm - #1 Memphis vs. UAB: Memphis
9:30pm - #4 Tulane vs. Tulsa: Tulsa
SEMIFINALS - Friday, March 9
4:30pm - Houston vs. UCF: Houston
7pm - Memphis vs. Tulsa: Memphis
CHAMPIONSHIP - Saturday, March 10
11:35am - Memphis vs. Houston: Memphis

MID-AMERICAN
FIRST ROUND (at higher seeds) - Wednesday, March 7
1pm - #8 Eastern Michigan vs. #9 Ball State: EMU
3pm - #5 Ohio vs. #12 Bowling Green: OU
5pm - #7 Central Michigan vs. #10 Buffalo: CMU
7pm - #6 Western Michigan vs. #11 Northern Illinois: WMU
QUARTERFINALS (Cleveland) - Thursday, March 8
Noon - #1 Toledo vs. EMU: Toledo
2pm - #4 Miami vs. OU: OU
7pm - #2 Akron vs. CMU: Akron
9pm - #3 Kent State vs. WMU: Kent State
SEMIFINALS - Friday, March 9
TBA - Toledo vs. OU: Toledo
TBA - Akron vs. Kent State: Akron
CHAMPIONSHIP - Saturday, March 10
7pm - Toledo vs. Akron: Akron

MID-EASTERN ATHLETIC CONFERENCE (Raleigh)
FIRST ROUND - Tuesday, March 6
6:30pm - #8 Coppin St. vs. #9 Bethune-Cookman: Coppin State
9pm - #7 Hampton vs. #10 Howard: Hampton
Wednesday, March 7
6pm - #6 Norfolk St. vs. #11 Maryland-Eastern Shore: Norfolk State
QUARTERFINALS - Wednesday, March 7
8pm - #1 Delaware State vs. Coppin State: DSU
10pm - #2 Florida A&M vs. Hampton: FAMU
Thursday, March 8
6pm - #3 North Carolina A&T vs. Norfolk State: NC A&T
8pm - #4 South Carolina St. vs. #5 Morgan St.: SCSU
SEMIFINALS - Friday, March 9
6pm - Delaware State vs. SCSU: DSU
8pm - FAMU vs. NC A&T: FAMU
CHAMPIONSHIP - Saturday, March 10
6pm - DSU vs. FAMU: Florida A&M

MOUNTAIN WEST CONFERENCE (Las Vegas)
FIRST ROUND - Tuesday, March 6
10:30pm - #8 TCU vs. #9 New Mexico: NM
QUARTERFINALS - Thursday, March 8
3pm - #1 BYU vs. NM: BYU
5:30pm - #4 Air Force vs. #5 Wyoming: Air Force
9pm - #2 UNLV vs. #7 Utah: UNLV
11:30pm - #3 San Diego State vs. #6 Colorado State: SDSU
SEMIFINALS - Friday, March 9
9pm - BYU vs. Air Force: Air Force
11:30pm - SDSU vs. UNLV: UNLV
CHAMPIONSHIP - Saturday, March 10
7pm - UNLV vs. Air Force: Air Force

PAC-10 (Los Angeles)
FIRST ROUND - Wednesday, March 7
9pm - #8 California vs. #9 Oregon State: Cal
11:30pm - #7 Washington vs. #10 Arizona State: Washington
QUARTERFINALS - Thursday, March 8
3pm - #4 Oregon vs. #5 Arizona: Arizona
5:30pm - #1 UCLA vs. Cal: UCLA
9pm - #3 USC vs. #6 Stanford: USC
11:30pm - #2 Washington State vs. Washington: WSU
SEMIFINALS - Friday, March 9
9pm - UCLA vs. Arizona: Arizona
11:30pm - WSU vs. USC: WSU
CHAMPIONSHIP - Saturday, March 10
6pm - Arizona vs. WSU: Washington State

SEC (Atlanta)
FIRST ROUND - Thursday, March 8
1pm - #E4 Kentucky vs. #W5 Alabama: Kentucky
3:15pm - #W3 Arkansas vs. #E6 South Carolina: Arkansas
7:30pm - #W4 Auburn vs. #E5 Georgia: UGA
9:45pm - #E3 Tennessee vs. #W6 LSU: Tennessee
QUARTERFINALS - Friday, March 9
1pm - #W1 Mississippi State vs. Kentucky: Kentucky
3:15pm - #E2 Vanderbilt vs. Arkansas: Vandy
7:30pm - #E1 Florida vs. UGA: Florida
9:45pm - #W2 Ole Miss vs. Tennessee: Tennessee
SEMIFINALS - Saturday, March 10
1pm - Kentucky vs. Vandy: Vandy
3:15pm - Florida vs. Tennessee: Florida
CHAMPIONSHIP - Sunday, March 11
1pm - Vandy vs. Florida: Florida

SOUTHLAND (Houston)
FIRST ROUND - Thursday, March 8
1pm - #2 Sam Houston St. vs. #7 Lamar: Lamar
3:30pm - #3 Northwestern St. vs. #6 Stephen F. Austin: NWSU
7pm - #1 Texas A&M-Corpus Christi vs. #8 Southeastern Louisiana: TAMU-CC
9:30pm - #4 McNeese State vs. #5 Texas-Arlington: UT-Arlington
SEMIFINALS - Friday, March 9
7pm - Lamar vs. NWSU: Lamar
9:30pm - TAMU-CC vs. UT-Arlington: TAMU-CC
CHAMPIONSHIP - Sunday, March 11
2pm - Lamar vs. TAMU-CC: Texas A&M-Corpus Christi

SOUTHWESTERN ATHLETIC CONFERENCE (Birmingham (Alabama, not England))
FIRST ROUND - Wednesday, March 7
3:30pm - #2 Jackson St. vs. #7 Southern U.: Jackson State
9pm - #1 Mississippi Valley St. vs. #8 Alabama St.: MVSU
Thursday, March 8
3:30pm - #3 Grambling St. vs. #6 Arkansas-Pine Bluff: A-PB
9pm - #4 Alcorn St. vs. #5 Texas Southern: Alcorn
SEMIFINALS - Friday, March 9
3:30pm - Jackson State vs. A-PB: Jackson State
9pm - MVSU vs. Alcorn: MVSU
CHAMPIONSHIP - Saturday, March 10
5pm - MVSU vs. Jackson State: Jackson State

WESTERN ATHLETIC
OPENING ROUND (at SJSU) - Tuesday, March 6
9:30pm - #9 Idaho vs. #8 San Jose State: SJSU
QUARTERFINALS (Las Cruces) - Thursday, March 8
2pm - #1 Nevada vs. SJSU: Nevada
4:30pm - #4 Utah State vs. #5 Hawaii: Hawaii
8pm - #3 Fresno State vs. #6 Boise State: Fresno State
10:30pm - #2 New Mexico State vs. #7 Louisiana Tech: NMSU
SEMIFINALS - Friday, March 9
8pm - Fresno State vs. NMSU: NMSU
10:30pm - Nevada vs. Hawaii: Nevada
CHAMPIONSHIP - Saturday, March 10
9pm - Nevada vs. NMSU: NMSU (aka Theus’s Revenge)

Big Ten Tournament Predictions

First Round – Thursday March 8
11am (CST) - #8 Michigan vs. #9 Minnesota: Michigan
1:30pm - #7 Michigan State vs. #10 Northwestern: MSU
4:05pm - #6 Illinois vs. #11 Penn State: Illinois

Quarterfinals – Friday March 9
11am - #1 Ohio State vs. #8 Michigan: OSU
1:30pm - #4 Iowa vs. #5 Purdue: Iowa
5:40pm - #2 Wisconsin vs. #7 Michigan State: MSU
8:10pm - #3 Indiana vs. #6 Illinois: IU (did you honestly think I would ever pick Illinois?)

Semifinals – Saturday March 10
12:40pm - #1 Ohio State vs. #4 Iowa: Iowa
3:05pm - #3 Indiana vs. #7 Michigan State: IU

Final – Sunday March 11
2:30pm - #3 Indiana vs. #4 Iowa: IU

Yeah, I know, I'm biased. And yes, I am well aware that these predictions directly contradict my previous prediction that Wisconsin would win the Big Ten Tournament. A Butch-less Badger team away from the Kohl Center (where Wisconsin is apparently incapable of fouling anyone) will struggle to advance past an angry MSU team. Why MSU is angry, I don't know, but it might be because they had to play OSU and Wisconsin twice each this year.

Bunk Beds, Tornados, and Elbows

Happy Casimir Pulaski Day, you Polish bastards.

I have to say, all in all, it was a pretty good weekend. Friday night Jester and I went to Sapori for dinner with Christoff, Jodie, Jodie's roommate Brie (I don't know if that's spelled right; I suppose it could be Bree, Brei, Bri, or Bre), and Brie's boyfriend (?), whose God-given name is apparently Jet (or possibly Jett or Gyet). Being an Italian restaurant, Sapori offered a wide array of Lent-compliant dishes. I had one of the daily specials, zuppa de pesce, which was linguini in a light red sauce, with eight different types of seafood. It was awesome.

After Sapori, Jester and I went home, where Lizzie was waiting for us. The three of us just watched some TV and went to bed fairly early, as we had a big day ahead of us on Saturday.

Saturday morning came, and Jester, Ari, Lizzie, and I headed up to Edgerton, WI to their dad's house, since he is soon moving and they wanted to get some stuff before he moves. Jester and I got the prize: her and Ari's old oak bunk bed. Lizzie, however, did take home a cookbook that looked to be from the '70s that was devoted entirely to sausage. Better yet, the book's introduction contained the following quote, which I assume is some sort of German proverb: "Without sausage, without bacon, purpose in life would be forsaken." Kind of extreme, but I think it rings true.

We got back to Chicago in the early evening, in time to catch the IU/Penn State game. On Senior Night, the Hoosiers atoned for their too-close-for-comfort win over Northwestern by dropping 17 3s on Penn State on their way to a 94-63 victory.

Before the game ended, we headed up to the Waterhouse for a surprise party for Alex "The Loose-Lipped Lithuanian" Bailenson. It was a $25 all-you-can-drink from 9-1 deal, so that's always a good thing. The attendees are too numerous to name, but I will say that Tron, Christoff, and I had a hell of a time watching the Top 20 dunkers of all-time on ESPN Classic. I thought Chocolate Thunder deserved to be a little bit higher.

We also were watching the Nevada/New Mexico State game. New Mexico State, as you know, is coached by former NBA All-Star Reggie Theus. This immediately prompted a discussion of the T-NBC show Hang Time, which centered around the Deering High School Tornados, whose star player was -- gasp! -- a girl, Julie Connor. Reggie Theus played DHS head coach Bill Fuller, replaced in 1998 by Mike Katowinski, played convincingly by Dick Butkus. Christoff and I convinced ourselves that the co-star of Meet the Parents, Pamcakes herself, Teri Polo (left), played Julie on Hang Time. I even boldly stated, "I'm 99% sure of this," even though I hadn't seen Hang Time in at least nine years. Turns out it was some chick named Daniella Deutscher (right). We really though we were onto something. Damn.

For reasons that are now clear, we decided not to go to the Vu after the Waterhouse. Instead, on our way home from the Waterhouse, Christoff, Jodie, Lizzie, Jester, and I went out of our way to go to what Christoff and I refer to as Red Line Burrito (because it's under the Addison Red Line stop), although I'm sure it has a real name. Christoff and I got in first, while the ladies lagged behind, which apparently gave them enough time to get into a verbal pissing match with three douchebags, who ended up standing right behind us in line. Christoff and I bit our tongues while Jessie and Jodie said things that nearly put us into a position to fight three douchebags. Similar to Fletch ("six-five, six-nine with the afro"), the leader of the douchebags was five-five, five-eight with the fauxhawk, and he was wearing a skin-tight white shirt and a smug grin. It should be noted that there were no women accompanying these douchebags.

It's funny how douchebags hate to be called douchebags to their face, especially by pea-headed 27-year-old female librarians. In fact, in most instances, they will flatly deny that they are douchebags, saying things like, "You think we're douchebags?" and acting genuinely surprised when the answer is "Yes." The lack of self-awareness is astounding, especially considering the reasonable inference that they looked at themselves in the mirror before leaving their apartments.

Not even douchebags, however, could ruin my steak burrito. It's been a while since I had a burrito, much less one as delicious as this. Afterward, we headed back home.

Once at home, I realized that we were too late to catch Metal Mania on VH1 Classic, having to settle instead for the less hair-band-centric The Vault. I was falsely excited when I turned it on and saw Bad English's "Heaven Is a Four-Letter Word" (I don't get the title either), but I turned the TV off immediately after that when a non-hair-band video callously made an appearance. I then headed upstairs to change into my silk pajamas and cap, thinking that no harm could come of leaving Jessie to her own devices.

Quick question: how many seconds should you microwave frozen sugar cookies in order to thaw them sufficiently enough to be consumed? We found out the hard way that the answer is definitely less than 40. While I was upstairs changing, Jessie popped a couple cookies in the microwave for 40 seconds, and then went to the bathroom. Lizzie noticed that something looked awry in the microwave. Upon opening the microwave, smoke billowed out, carrying with it a horrid stench that filled the apartment. I never knew something so sweet could produce an odor so foul. Actually, that's not true. Once I took a tour of the Imperial Sugar plant in Sugar Land, Texas. The choking burnt molasses smell still haunts me. While Jessie's sugar cookie incineration experiment wasn't quite as bad as when I smoked us out a few months ago, the apartment does still smell a little like charred sugar cookie.

Yesterday was spent eating breakfast at S&G, assembling a bunk bed, writing a hilarious sketch (our assignment this week was satire, so I wrote a sketch about an ad agency coming up with a mascot to replace Chief Illinwek; their choices are just as, if not more, offensive than a white man dressing up in face paint and nondescript Native American regalia and prancing around in a manner that bears little to no resemblance to traditional Native American dance -- how wacky!), and watching Duke's Gerald Henderson throw a 'bow into UNC's Tyler Hansbrough's nose, slicing it pretty good across the bridge and breaking it in the process. The announcers (Packer and Nantz, I believe) seemed to think it was unintentional. Bullshit Walter. I don't really like either team, so I can say without bias that it sure looked like Henderson swiftly moved his elbow in a manner that suggested he was not going for the ball. I did think Hansbrough was going to kill someone when he got up, face covered in blood. He looked like he was about to cry (which is a given any time you get hit in the nose), and he had that look in his eyes that kids have when they get cheapshotted -- the "someone hurt me, now I must hurt someone" look. Unfortunately, he was escorted to the locker room before a full-scale brawl broke out, which undoubtedly would have resulted in injuries to several players from both teams, hurting their chances of success in the NCAA tournament. Henderson did get called for a flagrant foul, which means he will be suspended for one game. This begs the question: if Henderson gets suspended for one game for what is not entirely clearly an intentional foul, how in the hell did Christian Laettner not get suspended for at least one game when he STOMPED ON AMINU TIMBERLAKE'S CHEST during the infamous Elite Eight game against Kentucky in 1992? Oh, I know why. It's because it was the NCAA tournament and it was Christian Laettner. This still stings because Laettner hit what is now his career-defining shot later in that game, and his Blue Devils went on to beat IU 81-78 in the Final Four the next weekend (during which Knight-hating ref Ted Valentine called a T on the IU bench for celebrating a big shot). I'm confident IU would have fared better against UK in the Final Four, and then beaten Michigan for the second time that year to claim national title number 6, and then for some reason, this would mean that Alan Henderson would not blow out his knee the next year and the #1 Hoosiers would not lose in the Elite Eight to Kansas and would have claimed their second national title in a row over Michigan (who they had beaten twice that year). But I'm not still bitter or anything.