w00t

I was going to write about the past weekend but realized that despite being very very fun, nothing terribly exciting happened. We went to Trinity for B's birthday and I spent the rest of the weekend recovering. I still am, in fact.

Four people told me that "w00t" was named word 0f the year today. I think this means people think I'm quite the nerd. Well, 1 4m n07, so stfu.

The demise of Blogation Station has been greatly exaggerated.

People have been said to die more often on their birthdays than any other day. Fortunately, the Station survives it's first bday despite a slight scare. Perhaps this blog prefers a slow, painful crawl into the abyss. Better to fade away than burn out, right? Hmm, I may have gotten that wrong. Regardless, details of my mundane existence and thoughtless musings will continue to bless the intarwebs. Glorious, I know. I'm probably not going to tell anyone that I've resumed posting, so only the stalkers and extremely bored of the Nation will find out in a reasonable amount of time.

I've decided to not fill in the gap of the recent to the last post because I'm lazy. I'll let those thoughts and occurrences fade into the murky, murky waters of memory that will undoubtedly be obscured even further through heavy drinking, computer screen radiation, and, eventually, senility. Anyhow, let's march on.

Anyhow, last thursday was the most recent iteration of our holiday party and the local museum. If you recall, last year I got pass-out-on-the-bathroom-floor-with-my-pants-down drunk. The newer, wiser JD did marginally better this time around. The party itself was fun but uneventful. B and I played around in the ghetto, outdated museum between awkward conversations with senior members of the firm. Anyhow, MIA, B, new analyst JJ, her bf, the X factor, and me went to Rocket afterwards.

Rocket was Rocket. The dj wasn't that good as he wasn't able to play any hip hop. Although he did play Total Eclipse of the Heart. Both B and I got hit on pretty hard that night. Earlier on some guy got in a convo with her and then jokingly said that they should "make out." I was moderately disturbed and subtlety made it clear I was with her. After realizing I was her boyfriend he said "your gilrfiend's hot" and I muttered and awkward "thanks..." Later in the night I was off standing in a corner talking with the X Factor. I see out of the corner of my eye some girl point at me from across the room with and signalling for me to dance with her. I just pretended I didn't see, looked away, and hoped that would be the end of that. Of course she comes over and starts to dance with me. I do some intentionally awrkard dabce moves (normally they're unintentionally awkward). Thankfully B was around and saved me. Usually I'm good at acting weird and cold enough to avoid that sort of thing, but at the pheromone-infused mating party that is Rocket, it can be difficult for one to avoid, even when as goofy as myself.
Friday's happenings to be posed later.

100th POST W000000000000T

Huzzah. This is the 100th post on this blog, just before its 1st birthday which is a week away. I would like to thank the Academy and all of my loyal reader(s) who made this possible.

Anyhow, I need to update on a bunch of stuff, including my trip to NYC. First, I will recount a few of the events from my trip to ND on Saturday...

MIA, D Fo, Brian, and I went down for the MSU game. We met up with P Knob and Grabbins. I got fairly drunk and belligerent. We started talking noise to some MSU fans on our way to the stadium. One lanky, strange-looking kid, rebutted by saying his team is going to win and we should meet up after the game so he could prove that he was right. I came back saying that we should go to i-hop and get some pancakes. It would be a fun outing. He had no response.

Notre Dame fans are waaaaay too nice to opposing fans. This dynamic really hurts ND's home field advantage. I proposed that all we need to do is stab one fan of the opposing team. That one small act would go a long way of creating a hostile atmosphere. I wanted to take a MSU fan out in to the woods, tie him to a tree, and stab him in the leg. On a similar note, during my drunken rampage directed toward MSU fans I claimed that we were gonna start "sacrificing people to Jesus." I'm normally not this rowdy. I'm not sure what got into me. Oh, yeah, I know -- SPARKS.

Notre Dame fans were pathetic during the game. People were sitting on their hands. I've decided Notre Dame is not a good football school. A good football school has fans that cheer loudly for their team no matter what. In the 3rd quarter when we were down 3 and obviously still in the game we held an MSU play to only a yard. I swear to God MIA and I were the only ones clapping in our section. I was nauseated. The fans are just. plain. lame. Part of it is that half the people are really really old. I will be a huge ND fan and represent for eternity, but Notre Dame, despite the history and whatever, is just not a good football school. We might win a NC in the next few years and 100 years from now might have 20 more NCs and an insane winning percentage, but until these fucking lameass fans get off their hands and start giving a shit about ND, ND wont be in the top 15 "football schools" in my mind. It hurts me to say it and it infuriates me how piss-poor the fans are. The students, to their credit, were very good.

Go Irish.

Catch-up, yet again

I've been really poor lately regarding updating this piece and I apologize to my 2 readers out there, whom I so affectionately refer to as the Blogation Station Nation.

I have a hard time remembering what exactly I missed (hence why I write this damn thing) but I remember a few points:

• My parents came to visit. Events include:
• They met B. It was exactly like Meet the Parents. Word-for-word. Event-for-event.
• We went out with D Fo's (extended) fam and MIA to a Greek restaurant. It was pretty intense with a lot of food and a couple "old world" people, if you know what I mean.
• I played beer pong with my Dad. He wasn't very good.

• D Fo and I went to Milwaukee to meet with S Dot
• We met with some of S Dot's pseudofriends. They. Were. Wastes. (For the record, S Dot realizes this.) They were the type of girls who are blonde, semi-tan, plain to borderline attractive, wearing tube-tops, and think that the previous qualities make them highly desirable despite their utterly vapid personalities. We walked around to a few bars in Trillwaukee while I made a futile effort to make casual conversation with these biddies. I gave up in short order. The night was fun and memorable regardless. The one main highlight is that I carried 7 solo cups of beer to everyone out on this deck-like thing. It was a glorious display of drunken dexterity and balance.
  
• There are no cabs in Milwaukee. None. There are also no people in Milwaukee. There is all this infrastructure, but no cars or people. I felt like I was in Stephen King's Langoliers.
  
• Milwaukee is far more diverse than Chicago. Perhaps "integrated" is a better word. Sometimes I think the Chi was carved out of the Brown v the Board of Education ruling.
• We went to a thang called Summerfest which is this huge concert thing which is not unlike Barnum and Bailey's Three Ringed Circus, except there are 12 rings and bands are playing in all of them. We didn't get all that involved in the music, but we instead focused on the activities which we do best. And that is a.) drink beer and b.) make fun of people. There was more than enough proletariat fodder to provide for an amusing night.

• I met B's Mom. It was exactly like Meet the Parents II.

I still have to write about my NYC trip and maybe about this past weekend. I'll leave that to another day.

Free Money

Warning: Possible football and gambling content to follow. Reader be advised.

During football season I declare "Free Money" games. A Free Money game is a football game where I declare a certain bet a 100% lock. You may laugh, but last season (the inaugural season of Free Money Declarations) I was 7/7. The chances of that being pure luck are (0.5)^7 = 0.78%. I will admit some of it was luck as there were a couple comebacks to cover. The key is to pick your spots and pick them early in the season when teams are mispriced over limited data.

Anyhow, Saturday is Free Money Saturday. The Notre Dame Fighting Irish versus the Penn State Felines of an Esoteric Sort game is free money. Take Notre Dame and give the points -- 17.5 to be exact -- and enjoy doubling your scratch. I know I will.

I won't get into details about why I think, nay, know this is free money but I will offer a snippet of an AIM conversation I'm having right now:

WeTalllDid: at the very absolute least we will cover
WeTalllDid: we aint bustas

For the record, I'm not an uber-homer when I lay down bets. I'm not proud of it, but I actually bet against ND back in 2003 against NC State because it was painfully obvious we were overrated. I'm not proud of that wager and I wouldn't do it again. It's just that I wasn't as huge of an ND fan as I am today and I needed the money really bad so it was hard to pass up.

PS the money line is a ridiculous 7:1

We aint bustas.

This post is brought to you by Crystal Pepsi

I'm watching a college football game on ESPN right now and the halftime show is called the "Olive Garden Halftime Show." That is pretty fucking lame. What does a casual, family-friendly, classic Italian dining experience have to do with football? Also, on the World Series of Poker they have a KFC Snacker cam. The next logical step is the Summer's Eve Douche first down line. Watch for it.

Dude is the new Chief

I've realized that the word "dude" is the new "chief" in certain contexts. If you don't know what I'm talking about, people use such names to be backhandedly condescending. It drives me nuts. My fucking *boss* used "dude" on me in such a way twice. He's a waste anyhow, so I don't expect anything else from him.

Anyhow, please don't use Chief, Dude, Bud, Buddy, etc. unless you're truly trying to be an asshole, Gaylord.

JQuotes

One of my more memorable quotes from high school was "High school is like the movie Groundhog Day, but with consequences." My new quote for my current job is "My job is like Office Space, but not funny."

Cab Fun

Sorry for not updating ever. I have a lot to catch up on. Here's a blurb from one of my nights copied and pasted from an email.

"Soo I come back from the bar at like 11 or something. I take a cab. Bill is 10. I try to give him 20 and he says he doesn't have change. I tell him I can use my cc. He says it isn't working. I explain to him that it's his responsibility to have change and have his cc thing working and have change. He starts to get pissed bc I'm calling him out. He then says we should go to a coffee shop. I say no. He starts to drive there. I can a.) Just get out of the car and pay 20 b.) Go to the coffee shop and pay him. C) get out and don't pay d.) Call the cops. I go with b, but I'm livid as hell. I wasn't in the mood for his bs. He continues to run the meter. I'm even more pissed. We get to dunkin donuts on wellington. He says he'll get the change. I say hell no. I go in there and ask the cashier for change. He says he's not allowed to do that. I tell him my situation. I'm just a fucking mess right now. I say "fine, give me something cheap, a fuckin donut hole" That's verbatim. He just give me 2 10s cuz he realized I didn't want to be fucked with. I get the change, go back outside, litterally throw 10 dollars at him and say "here's your fuckin money. You know, you're a real piece of shit. I'm calling your fucking company." That's close to verbatim. He yells some shit back and I just walk away. I kind of changed directions after I walked a bit to avoid him if he decided to swing back around. He did swing back around but he either didn't see me or changed his mind. I was pretty scared at that point.
But ugh, that whole ep was ridiculous. I rarely get like that but I was pissed to begin with and he was being fucking ridiculous. I'm calling his company today. I remembered his cab #. I couldn't fall asleep til 1. =/"

Vegas Addendum

I have a lot to write about but I thought I'd add a missed Vegas tidbit I originally left out. One chick we were talking to at the Casino Royale stated "the best way to shut a girl up is to stick your dick in her mouth." You know, that doesn't sound exactly right, but I can't really think of any counterarguments...

Weekend and Such

This entry is quite poorly written and in mostly bullet-point format even though there are only a few bullets. I wrote this as quickly as possible to save time. Quantity over quality, bitches.

Thursday we went out to Trinity. This was Tempo's first time there and he brought his gee-eff Jenn. I don't remember much (my memory sucks, that's why I write this stuff down) but I do remember discussing the currency this one town created for itself. I will discuss this in a later post. I promise. I walked B home and got back really late. I was hurting the next day.

I determined that The Family needed a good toast saying. I got pissed off that neither I nor anyone else could come up with anything awesome. Therefore I declare that the toast will be "pimps up, hoes down" until someone comes up with anything better. May be hard to beat.

Mack P came in on Friday. I took the Blue Line after work to meet him at the airport. This was a terrible idea since the thing took forever, was crowded, and jerky. UGH. That night we went to Lake Shore Theater to see this one comic D Fo is familiar with. The crew was The Family plus Mack P and Jenn. The theme of the night was "the unbookables" because they were extremely offensive. They lived up to this name when the main comic looked at B and said that she's a whore and she need to whip her titties out. I was in more of a mood to laugh than to defend her honor. Meh.

The comics were hilarious. Save one guy who just ran old anti-bush/religion jokes that are so played out and rarely funny in the first place.

Only 30 or so people were there and they were giving away free drinks throughout the night. How does this place stay open? The guy who owns it (and stutters a lot) must be rich/stupid and really enjoys running a comedy club. Fine with me.

After they all went though their bits they must've just felt like not ending the show. They proceeded to call some guy on a cell phone and just chat it up with him. It devolved even further when people began hitting a bowl on stage. Ridiculous. We couldn't take it anymore and left.

I made a joke before we went into the theater that went over like a lead balloon. D Fo was getting a blue moon at the bar. First note that this place is in Boystown, one of the most prolific gay towns in the country. Also, it was gay pride weekend. So D Fo was getting his beer and the bar tender asked if he wanted an orange slice. Dave says, "yeah, throw some fruit in there." I say, "Might as well. It's gay pride weekend." I don't exactly "think" per se before I talk.

Saturday Mack P and I went to the office -- I needed to do some work. It sucked because it was cloudy and Mack couldn't see the nice view our office has. Anyhow we leave and go on a tour of Goose Island brewery. Only problem was that they do tours on Sunday, not Saturday. I felt really dumb. I set the thing up and I'm sure they said it was Saturday on the phone. I don't normally mess that stuff up. We rolled into this bar near there and had a few drinks instead. Although it could've been a hospital cuz there was some mad nursing going on.

We rolled back to our place to play some beer pong. This was glorious since I haven't played in a while. S Dot was in town. Tempo was on fire in the beginning of the pong-playing. I sucked until the last game where I sent it into OT and then just rolled in the extra period. We drank like a million beers. (Note to self to insert picture of the million beers.)

Jenn is quite short. I wouldn't be surprised if she were under 5'. I saw B standing next to her and I almost *died* laughing. The difference in height was hilarious. Jenn had sandals on and B had heels, so the 5'9" +3" -5' = 1 foot difference was hilarious. It's cool though -- I like tall girls.

We eventually rolled to Trader Todds. MIA felt it necessary to buy us "painkillers" which is some girly, coconutty drink. The thing was brutal. Anyhow, I was pretty damn drunk at this point. I think Dave, MIA, and Mack all sang "Sweet Caroline" at this place. Not sure though. Correct me in the comments section if I'm wrong.

All of a sudden about 10 shitty things happened to me at once. The perfect shitstorm, if you will. I was starting to get tired, sick, really drunk, and a few other things. I pulled an MIA by just peacing out on everyone at the bar and not telling them I was leaving. I was in an awful mood. I came home and just face-planted on my bed.

Sunday Mack P, B, and I went to 4 Shadows to get lunch. While we were there we saw some guy get out of his car at an intersection and start humping his car. Gay pride wknd, got to love it. That prompted a discussion among us about if that sort of behavior and "pride" helps the cause of the homosexual population as a whole. (I claim it doesn't but I don't want to get into that right now.) Mack had a pretty hilarious quote. His point was that "Christians don't show pride on Christmas by lighting shit on fire or humping Frosty the Snowman in the middle of an intersection." Interesting point.

I saw Mack off to the airport then B and I took the L to meet up with D Fo and S Dot at the sox game. We show up late but still see a lot of baseball and have a great time. It was a Sox-Cubs game so people were extra-belligerent. People who trivialize sports by saying "it's just a game" don't really get sports. People care and care a lot about this shit to the point where they are willing to risk and inflict psychological and physical harm. The fact that people care so much means sports do matter. Anyone from Pittsburgh or who went to ND knows this.

After the game B and I went out to dinner on Belmont. We sat outside. It was nice. Very enjoyable. I had a great night.

Jenn had a pretty awesome quote. We were watching My Sweet Sixteen on MTV. The bitches on there are really fucking annoying. Jenn, out of nowhere, says "If I had a dick I would punch them with it." Couldn't have said it better myself. Err, I wouldn't imply that I don't have a dick though...

Notes from prior days that I never wrote about:

-We went to a street festival on Belmont and Sheffield. This band was playing that I've seen a few times. Getting drink required great patience and agility due to the crowd and carrying 8 at a time. That night we went to the Lake Shore Theatre, which is a comedy club, to see Aziz Ansari of The Human Giant. This is my favorite new show. He was quite hilarious. Very few people showed up for the show. Again, how does that place stay open? Oh, also we ate at some Thai place and observed some drugged out dude do laps up and down the street.

-Peeps from my office and I went out to Citizen bar and Hugo's frog bar with my boss. My boss is an ass but I also like him. He's somewhat of a cartoon character. He's very insecure and exhibits the usual signs. *Has* to be dressed nicely, feigned ego, etc. I mean, he's got a 250 bottle wine refrigerator... However, it's possible I'm being unfair. In my first year in the "real world" I realize that perception is reality in this business. So. Ridiculously. True. Maybe he just knows how to play it.

-A couple weekends ago we had an office outing at Midtown. MIA bought a drink called the Loop. She couldn't even get through 10% of it. So since people call me "the Medic" (see my downing of "the Shark" from a previous entry) I determined I must heal (kill?) this wounded soldier. The thing was basically 100% Bombay Sapphire. Tempo would've loved it. I however, though it was pretty brutal even though I downed it rather quickly. That shit went straight to my head and I swear I wasn't right until about 24 hours later.

Las Vegas: Poker, Death, and Boobs (Update #2)

D Fo, Tempo, M Fo (our friend and D Fo's bro), and I all left for Las Vegas on Wednesday. The flight was gloriously uneventful and I slept most of the way. Slots are the first things to greet you out of the airplane. Awesome. I could tell immediately how dry it was compared to Chicago. Vegas is the farthest west I’ve been so the hot and dry weather was new but was exactly as I expected it to be.

We dropped our stuff off at the hotel and headed straight to the casinos. The Vegas strip was smaller than I expected but made up for it in it’s compactness. The casinos seemed to all mesh together and it’s difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins.

First stop is Caesar’s. We go straight to the poker room. This will be our bread and butter for the trip. The first night was the most fun for me. I was making money, and most importantly, I liked most of the people at our table. I took this latter point for granted at the time. We were seated there were a few lawyers and a couple relatively cool people on vacation. Later in the trip I realize this situation is an exception; Las Vegas has it's fair share of freaks. Well, I guess anywhere has a lot of freaks. The difference is you are forced to interact with them at the poker table.

The main problem with Caesar's was the cocktail waitresses were *busted*. There were some that had to be pushing 50, although there were some diamonds in the rough. I use "diamonds" loosely however. I don't really care though. Just bring me my drink. But at the Wynn, however, they are ridiculous.

The first night was probably the most fun for me. I was up pretty decently and was pretty drunk. The next morning I woke up on my own at like 830. I was wide awake. Tempo asks if I want to go work out and I say "YEAH!" immediately. M Fo comes out of nowhere and says "YEAH!" as well. We were all wide awake. We thought there was something in the water. I never work out in the morning. I wish I could because you can lift more during the day.

That day we went to the Mirage, I believe. I did not like this place at all. You definitely get into more of the "fanny pack" crowd here versus the other casinos. The poker room was total clownshoes because it was clustered in with the rest of the hotel and the people there were especially lame. I hate it when people get a few good cards and lucky hands and they automatically think they're badasses. You're not a badass. This is low limit. Plus you don't understand the game. Over the short term it's all about the cards.

That night at the tables there was this kid from Texas who was getting a bunch of shit from this huge older woman seated next to him because he hunts. She’s giving him a really hard time about killing innocent little animals or whatever and the grizzly-looking older guy next to me says under his breath “I hunt people.” For a second I think he’s joking so I laugh, but the laugh transitions into a muted nervous giggle as I start to realize this guy is scary-looking enough to be serious. I assumed he was in Vietnam, but when I asked him he said he served in the FBI. He was in drug enforcement, apparently. I though that’s what the DEA was for, but what do I know. I believe this guy. He goes on to say how he was undercover and doing this huge drug deal. He had half a mildo in his car and someone rolled up on him and shot him twice in the chest to steal his flow. Our guy, however, was able to draw his gun and shot him right in the eye. Good. Lord. I just came to have fun and play some cards...

The next day we were playing at the MGM Grand. The guy next to me lost a hand and said it was easier to lose that given he just got an unexpected 150K. I ask how he got it (after I ask I immediately regret it bc I see what's coming) and he says very casually and somewhat jovially "my aunt just committed suicide." I just came to have fun and play some cards...

We went to BOA on Friday night. I had a Kobe steak. It was tasty.

The last night of cards was brutal. I was up money but I started to crash physically. The vodka Sobes (they didn't have red bull so they used sobe energy drink) started to wear on my stomach and weren't keeping me awake. Plus there were some total lameasses at our table. The most glaring was this 32 year old woman who was acting like she was 12. She kept giving me and Tempo shit for no good reason. The pointless banter was getting really annoying.

We leave the table and go to meet up with the rest of the crowd at Casino Royale. Tempo and I are crashing fast. There's this big dude named Chris who is with D Fo at the craps table. I knew he was from the south since he was giving me shit for my pink shirt. "Orson" from college football blog edsbs.com and his wife were with M Fo across the room. It was cool meeting him bc I read that site on a regular basis. If you like football at all it's worth reading the site. Good stuff.

Tempo and I leave early. Finding a cab is rough but we eventually get home. I feel *really* close to death. I had awful nightmares.

Vegas was *awesome* but getting home was great. When I got to my place I felt like I had been gone for-ev-er.

Other Notes:

D Fo said that the exchange rate in LV is 75c on the dollar. I would say this is a gross understatement. Vegas made me feel *poor*. I was playing on the kiddie (read: low-limit) tables and that was pushing my tolerance for monetary swings and risk. D Fo lost $100 in like 15 minutes next to me at the Mirage (I call him out on this only because he was up a bajillion dollars on the trip as a whole. Winning a multitable poker tournament helps.) Plus the minimum per hand at the black jack tables at these casinos was $15, so money goes flying.

There's something about Vegas that makes girls bust out as much boob and leg as humanly possible. Girls who normally dress like this:


start dressing like this:

I think most girls have a wardrobe and then a separate wardrobe, which is maybe in a separate drawer or something, labeled "vegas" that has a completely different set of clothes. I say this because basically everyone was dressing ridiculously.

We didn’t do the obligatory strip club trip mainly because we are not shady enough or in the mood to blow even more phat cash. Probably the latter rather than the former but whatever. That was ok wit me since I’m interested in only one girl. =).

…she's a stripper named Candi with an “i” and she wasn’t in town that weekend. Haha, ;-).

Update:

Tempo reminded me of a sequence of events that I had originally forgot to mention. One night I got pretty damn wasted and got in one of my semi-belligerent yet playful moods. This one guy across from me got some Scotch and I said something like "that's my boy" because I was likin the Whiskey play. However he just nursed the shit out of it for the next couple hours and it was slightly bothering me. He lost a hand and I said "You would've won that hand if you would drink your drink." I didn't realize this was somewhat "dick" when I said it but I understood once I guaged J Tempo's reaction.

Another time our dealer summoned a cocktail waitress really quitely and I called her out and said "they might hear you if you speak louder."

The third event was when Josh won a hand I was in. I don't rember exactly what he had or what went down but I do remember saying "fuck you" to him after he won the hand. Again, like all the other instances this was playful, but the dealer effectively "shushed" me and told me not to swear. I was utterly dumbfounded by this and said sarcastically "I'm sorry. I forgot I was in a casino!" She did not appreciate this.

Also, Tempo called D Fo winning the poker tournament that night. Good call. Although not surprising really.

To give you a good idea of how intense our poker playing was (and how unlucky M Fo was), M Fo woke up screaming one night due to a bad dream about a poker hand. Awesome.

Drink Spectrum

I've postulated that one can create a spectrum of drinks with most manly on one end and most girly on the other. I will attempt to draft this.

Note that this is a working list. I would appreciate comments as to what to move/add.

Manly
Straight Bourbon and Scotch
Other types of whisk(e)y
Manly Martinis et al (eg Vodka and Gin Martini, Manhattan)
Malt Liquor (eg Colt 45, Extreme Rock Head)
Manly Mixed Drinks (eg Vodka Tonic)
Most Beers
Girly Beers (eg beers that you put fruit in)
Mohitos
Girly Mixed Drinks (eg Vanilla Stoli and Diet)
Girly Martinis
Smirnoff Ice, etc.
Cosmopolitans
The Pink Panty
Girly

Curtis!

For those of you who think my job ain't gangsta, I say you this... We're doing a deal that will pay 50 Cent over $400 million dollars. My company is getting Fitty some phat cash. (Although a piece of it will be in stock. Phat stock?) It's not actually my deal (MIA is staffed on it. w000t!) but I was helping with it today. Damn it feels good to be a gangster.

And as I just told Mack P, "His next video is gonna be him like fuckin eating the Mona Lisa."

3 weeks ago

Just wanted to quickly recount the events of 3 weeks ago...

We planned a family field trip for Saturday. The "family" consists of me, B, MIA, D Fo, and Tempo. We all go in D Fo's car and drove to the Shedd Aquarium. Highlights include:

• While we were walking there we saw people on Seqways. They were wearing helmets. You look stupid wearing a helmet on a Segway going 10mph.
• I managed to scare B by acting like I was gonna lift her up and throw her into a 7ft tall aquarium.
• There was this one tank containing these super intricate super fragile-looking seahorses. The tank was very dark and there was a huge "no flash photography" sign. Dave said scoffingly "No flash photography? Pff, I wonder how many people ignore that." Precisely 2 seconds later this guy in the crowd lines up his camera right up to the tank and blasts the seahorses with a camera flash. All of us scatter and begin laughing uncontrollably. I wouldn't be surprised if that flash instantly killed all of those fish.
• We were debating throughout the day if marine animals can "frolic." They definitely can.
• D Fo had a good quote. "The more I look at these things the more I think evolution is bullshit."
• I kept saying I wish I brought a mini axe so that I could shatter the fish tanks.
  

Saturday night B and I had a 10pm "res" at Japonais, which is a "trendy" contemporary Japanese restaurant:

• We showed up early and went to a bar they had downstairs. B got some sort of martini and I got a manhattan, which was very good. I suggested B to try some of it. She took what was maybe a 2mL sip and her face looked like she just ate an entire lemon orchard. Hilarious.
• One of the appetizers we got was called the Rock. It was this heated rock and you cook these thin strips of steak right on it. It took only a few seconds. Tasty.
• We got sushi, which I don't normally eat. It's not because I don't like it but because I don't really know what to get and I get a little hesitant getting it from just anywhere. It tasted like the ocean. Very tasty.
• I somehow managed to use chopsticks without looking like a total dumbass.

All-in-all the place was quite expensive but worth every dime. Awesome night.

Party Like It's My Birthday

I'm a bit tired but don't feel like taking a nap. I'm bored but don't feel like doing anything. However I've decided to be somewhat "productive" and write about this weekend.

Friday- Very chill night. B came over and we played one game of pong. P Diddy was being a baby. Somehow I managed to get pretty drunk. Big Red was supposed to come over but she never showed up and had her phone off. This, along with other similar experiences, has earned her the new nickname "MIA." And no that does not stand for Miami. (Note: after I wrote this entry I realized I give MIA a hard time for being MIA. I'm just playing around; we love her.)

Saturday- At 10am we got furniture for our roof deck. This is very key. Assembly was a bitch. At noon B took me to an "Architectural Boat Tour" as one of my birthday activities. Yes, it was very touristy and very awesome. We were on this ~100ft boat and went up and down the Chicago river with a tour guide pointing out various building and their architectural features/history. I'm a nerd so I found this very enjoyable. Plus the weather was about as good as you can imagine which just made.

I took the train home and finished assembling the furniture. MIA came over and we just sat on the roof and drank. It was awesome. P Diddy and I bored her with stories from high school. B came over at 7 to take me out to dinner. She was midly distraught because she walked over here in a dress and was heckled mercilessly by people out for the baseball game. She said that some guy actually came and bear-hugged her and picked her up. I felt really bad for her.

We went to the Grotto for dinner. We sat next to this atrium thing that looked like a monkey exhibit at the zoo. I thought I saw a wild boar. Dinner was great and we then set out to meet up with some people. D Fo and P Diddy were still at home so in the mean time B and I chilled at Elm St liquors. Someone took a picture of us for one of those "bar/club scene online magazines". I will let you know when they upload those pictures. I probably look stoopid as I am horribly unphotogenic.

We then heard back from MIA. Her and Kimbo et al are at Enclave, which is this pretty trendy club I wrote about a month or so ago. We show up and there's a pretty big crowd waiting to get in. B must've really made up for my lack of attractiveness and "hipness" because they let us right in. I feel special. We pay the $20 per person cover charge and start to look for our pals. MIA was, well, MIA. Going through that club and looking through the crowd was like Where's Waldo without Waldo actually being in the picture. I get a call from MIA and she says they're actually at a different bar... We leave. $40 bones well spent, heh.

The next bar was called Motel Bar. Dave and some of his pals meet us there. P Diddy did not show up for some reason. We chill there for a while. Kimbo and pals roll to a "Rhino" which is some club. Sounds like a gay bar. We roll there but they don't let us in since we have too many dudes. Hmm, I guess it's not a gay bar. We then decide to Elm St Liquors. Things have gone full circle. We had a lot of fun there.

I was at a perfect level of drunk for most of the night -- drunk, but handling my shit and remembering everything perfectly. However, I got a 40 of Mickey's late last night at Elm St and that kind of threw me over the edge. My last truly lucid memory is me mirroring B's dance moves. I do this when I get pretty drunk and I find it hilarious. At the time I felt like I did a pretty good job imitating but I was probably pretty bad, heh. I don't remember much from then on

Random thoughts-
Most girls walk slowly and/or awkwardly in heels. B, however, can flat-out fly. Did she train up in the Tibetan mountains with Shaolin heel ninjas or something?

D Fo, just now, said "I think I'm going to a Bone Thugs concert on Tuesday." Wow, random.

Yesterday was so much fun that I'm really depressed that it's over. Does that make sense?

Catsup

Ok, just gonna hit the highlights of the past couple weeks. 30,000 feet...

2 weeks ago: Saturday we had an office field trip to "the hangge uppe" which is this obnoxious dance bar. I had never been there but people kept telling me I had to be *super* wasted to enjoy it. I took their advice to heart. At Mama E's place D Fo and I split a fifth of Vodka. Dare us to drive? So I remember basically nothing from the bar except that I got lost. I went to the bathroom downstairs and when I came out I didn't know how I got there. So I was swimming through crowds and crowds of peeps goin nuts. I would run into dead ends and I was afraid I was gonna get kicked out. I eventually found the stairs. Miracle.

Last Friday S Dot came in and we just chilled. Played some pong and we got owned because the other team was shooting lights out. Sometimes you run right into a locomotive. It happens.

Saturday was Floyd v Mayweather which was pretty damn entertaining. A decent amt of people came over. I believe Jack or Brian or somebody brought mead. Sometimes you gotta keep it medieval.

I have some non-record keeping posts in my head that I've been meaning to spit out. I will post relatively soon.

SmarterChild

Belated update about last weekend to come. Some selected pics are up on fb. For now, an convo I just had with SmarterChild the AIM bot...


WeTalllDid (11:25:51 PM): sup

SmarterChild (11:25:52 PM): wetallldid. I was afraid I'd never see you again... What can I do for you?Have you checked out everything I can do yet? Type home and see what interests you.

WeTalllDid (11:27:26 PM): Yeah I know what you can do for me. Go fuck youself.

SmarterChild (11:27:26 PM): It must not be terribly gratifying to insult a computer.

WeTalllDid (11:29:48 PM): It must not be terribly gratifying not to have a soul.

SmarterChild (11:29:48 PM): It must not be terribly gratifying not to have a soul? OK.

WeTalllDid (11:34:51 PM): Way to prove my point you two-bit algorithm. My dog Spanky could write a better AI program.

SmarterChild (11:34:52 PM): Add Felg to your Buddy List and you can send shout outs, song requests and more on Radio KOL from 3 to 7 p.m. ET every weekday!Way to prove your point me two bit algorithm your dog Spanky could write a better ai program?Hmm...>>> My library has a dictionary, encyclopedia, geography facts and more!

WeTalllDid (11:36:06 PM): I would rather snap off a mercury thermometer in my urethra than add Felg to my buddy list.

SmarterChild (11:36:06 PM): Whoa!>>> For help getting news headlines, type news help.

WeTalllDid (11:36:28 PM): Is this Joey Lawrence? That would actually explain a lot.

SmarterChild (11:36:28 PM): Wow. I really have no idea...

WeTalllDid (11:37:01 PM): Can a computer perform auto-erotic asphyxiation?

SmarterChild (11:37:02 PM): I don't think a computer can perform auto erotic asphyxiation.

WeTalllDid (11:37:15 PM): Well I'm sure if you could, you would.


I almost punched the computer screen.

I Had an Interesting Night

Big Red and I declare "mix-it-up" weekdays which basically means we drink after work. Yesterday was mix-it-up Wednesday. We went straight to Trinity where they have even awesomer specials on Wednesday. Specifically, half price all drinks. So Big Red and I are there chatting it up. When the marginal cost of another drink is basically negligible, you tend to drink more than you should. Well, we did just that. We left the place around 8:30 and I told her that I needed some brew dogs for the house. Conveniently there was a liquor store right there. Our purchases were the paradigm of classy- a 30 pack of Keystone Ice and a 40 of Olde English 800. When we stepped up to pay the cashier he asked, "Are you over 21?" Big Red answers "yes." Cashier responds, "ok" and rings up the purchase. Word is bond.
On the cab ride back to the house Red brought up a good point. She said something like, "You know, we're the only ones that keep it real. It's a Wednesday and we're sitting in a cab with Keyston and OE." True that, Big Red. True that. However, my life is more of an example of when keeping it real goes wrong.
We played some pong back at the spot and then watched American Gladiators. We both passed out in the living room. D Fo came back late and I think he put my Sox ticket on my face. Glorious. BR apparently woke up at 3am, set off the alarm on her way out, and made it back home. I guess D Fo got up and managed to disarm it.
Work today was awful. I swear to God every time I'm hungover I get killed at work. Which is what happens. Boo-urns.

Weekend Recap

On Thursday Big Red, K Ho, and I went to Poag Mahoney's (or something like that, I don't feel like looking up the real name) for drinks right after work. We saw someone who looked like J Tempo in 25 years. It was creepy. Drinks there were really expensive. Their "special" was 5 Coronas for 23.75. Yeah, great deal. BR and I then went up to Trinity where pints of Bud Light are $1.50. Deals like that are a rarity in Chicago. Plus it is non-smoking which is glorious. D Fo and B met us there.
I completely blew off work on Friday which was an excellent call. I took a cab home from B's on Friday and the cab driver had the weirdest thing playing. I assume it was an audio book of some sort. It was just these women talking about artificial insemination and picking sperm donors. It may have been the girliest shit I've ever heard. It's hard to explain what it was like. They would say in a soft, flowery voice "Mr. X's profile shows him as having a PhD and knowing 4 languages, but there was something about Mr. Y's essay responses that made me really drawn to him." I'm not doing this justice at all but suffice it to say it was really weird and was creeping the hell out of me.
B and I went to the Cubs-Cards game Friday afternoon. The weather was great. That is, the weather was great in the Sun. Our seats were in the shade and I was freezing my ass off. It wasn't too bad, though and I had a great time at the game. It was my first game at Wrigley and from a pure baseball perspective I can see how people hate on it. Half the fans were Cardinals fans, there were tons of empty seats, people showed up late, fans threw a bunch of stuff on the field when a call didn't go their way, etc. However, from a "fun" perspective it's pretty awesome. The atmosphere is pretty cool and there are a bunch of bars around the stadium.
We went to Sluggers afterwards and met up with a couple of B's friends. Good times were had by all.
Sean came over on Friday night and we just chilled pretty much. On Saturday we left for the Blue and Gold game around 830. Big Red was supposed to join us but she had a pretty late night Friday and couldn't make it. We parked a Holy Cross and walked to this tailgate our friends were having. We had this styrofoam cooler of beer that Sean and I had to carry there. I felt like it was the World's Strongest Man competition or something. That thing was pretty heavy and we had to walk a good couple of miles.
The tailgate and game were a lot of fun. The spring game is such a cock-tease though. Whenever something good happens you don't know if it's because the offense is good or the defense is bad. Plus the team holds back a lot. It's better than nothing but I'm ready for the season to start.
The weather was pretty good and I got moderately sunburned. Yay farmer's tan... I slept most of the way back home. Saturday night we didn't really do anything because we were all pretty exhausted. I subjected B to the Ali G movie but that was pretty much it.
The main negative of the weekend was that D Fo's car doesn't have tinted windows. People refer to this as "fish bowlin'" because everyone can see what you're doing. This is not cool.
I drank so much beer over these past 3 days it was ridiculous.
Let me know if I forgot anything of note.

Paraphrased II

"Our difficulties are directly proportional to our capital."
-Ma$e & P.Diddy

MIMS

The average kinetic energy of my molecules is high because I am capable of self-elevation and subsequent lateral movement. Your state of existence, however, is the inverse.

-Mims, paraphrased

Romantic Semantics

Through some conversations I've had recently at work I've noticed that there is a dearth of relationship terms and tiers. People throw around terms like "seeing," "dating," etc. without there being a common understanding as to what those terms means. They also seem to mean different things to different people. I'd like to take a stab at creating tiers and definitions that could be universally adopted to help clarify things. I'll try to make them really simple and really broad. These are previously used terms, but I'm assigning them definitions somewhat randomly.

"Going Out" - Actively going out on dates. No exclusivity.

"Seeing" - More serious than going out. There isn't "required" exclusivity, but a.) you don't want to date anyone else, or b.) you'd feel a little weird/guilty if you did go out/hook up with someone else.

"Dating" - This means you have a girlfriend/boyfriend. Typically I've used this along with "seeing," but I'm redefining things now. You are exclusive.

These terms and levels are not all-inclusive obviously. There can be "friends with benefits" and whatnot, but the above covers most normal relationships.

Obviously, my suggestions will never go into widespread use. But it would make things easier if they did.

While I'm at it, I think "hooking up" needs defined. When I was in hs hooking up meant sex. I still remember during my first few weeks at college I was in this convo with a bunch of girls and they're all talking about hooking up with all sorts of people. I was thinking "damn, this college shit is crazy." I later found out that this was ND and (whether for better or for worse) there wasn't much of this type of hooking up going down. So at ND hooking up means anything at or above making out. I use the ND version and propose this be used universally for consistency's sake.

And can somebody please comment at least for the sake of posting a comment? J Tempo is getting lonely. I know for a fact other people read this piece. Do it anonymously! Throw me a bone here!

Random Things

Screw you, Google. I was googling myself (doing a little self DD, as they say in the biz) the other day and searched "jskoff" because I use that as a username sometimes and it's in my email. Anyhow, the image below shows Google basically calling me a jerk off. =(


I had an excellent weekend. However, I can't think of much of note to write about. Well, at least nothing I can/should write here. But here are a few notes anyhow:

• Tempo wore sneakers to a Enclave on Saturday. He had to go back and switch shoes. He came back wearing my shoes.
• Saw "Blades of Glory" on Friday and went to a bar afterwards.

I feel very stressed/restless/anxious tonight. I get like this sometimes. I have a few things going on im my life right now that I'm really excited and/or nervous about. And me, being a headcase, am in the mood to freak out over said things. I guess that's only normal but I think I take it to a higher level than most people (or men, at least, heh). I need to learn to just calm down and be happy. Sorry for this doctor Phil moment. Again, strange mood.

D Fo just said "man, living in the desert sucks." Thanks for the insight. However he just made up for it by saying "You can't spell 'autoerotic asphyxiation' without USC."

Animals are stupid.

Dyanasty: 13-2 (10-2).

Drank #4

4. "Death Tastes Like Licorice, and Vice-Versa" Location: NYC. Date: Summer 2006

Nobody, and I mean nobody, likes the black jellybeans. It's always the last one in the jar and I can only assume that they are eventually either incinerated or shipped off to a 3rd world country to be used as a building material. So what assclown decided it would be a good idea to make a drink that tastes exactly like it? I'm talking about Sambuca, obviously, and it's probably my least favorite liquor.

The interesting thing about Sambuca is that you never buy it yourself and it allllways comes your way uberlate in the night. This happened to me in an especially bad way last summer. I was out with a bunch of people from work that I really didn't know at the time and we were out at some weird bar. I'm not really too drunk but my stomach had too much to drink, if you know what I'm saying. So I'm sitting there and all of a sudden a bucket-sized shot of Sambuca appears out of nowhere. I throw it back and then have to summon every ounce of chi and concentration I can muster to prevent from throwing up. This would've been devastating to my budding friendships and reputation. My life was almost wrecked by liquor(ish).

Drank #3

I apologise (yes, I'm in a British mood) for delaying the continuation of this series of "My Top 5 Worst of All Time Ever Drinks Ever." Let us recall #3, again in no particular order...

3. "Irrational Exuberance, Russia Style" Location: Somewhere in PA. Date: July 2002.
This story originates on a summer evening right before my friends and I were off to college. After eating at a local "Eat N Park" (aka Eat N Puke, Park N Eat) about 5 or so of us were chilling in the parking lot. One of us said, "You know, I have a bunch of alcohol left in my room and I can't leave it behind for my parents to find." You've got to remember that in high school booze is a highly valuable commodity that isn't easily obtained. It's hard to just throw stuff out. Given that we had only a few days left before school, we needed a drastic solution. Some Einstein suggested we drink during the day. Us other Einsteins thought this was a capital idea. We planned to meet at a friend's house around noon, get hammered, and somehow sober up and return back to our homes. Turns out all but 4 of us bitch out. Whatever, pass me the bottle.

A quick aside- It seems that high schoolers like their hard alcohol. I believe there are two reasons for this. One, it's easy to conceal. When you're underage stealth is key. Two, beer and whatnot is an acquired taste. I remember hating beer as a freshman in college. However, at these random parties all they had was natty light kegs- pretty much the ND staple. I remember just forcing it down and eventually I began to like it. Back to the story.

I think we had a bunch of booze at their place but all I remember having is Smirnoff vodka. Standard issue 80 proof. We sat down at their table and I began to throw back shots chased with Sprite like it was my job. I wasn't getting paid by the hour, I was getting paid by the ounce. And this rapid-fire, almost continuous inbibation is why I am classifying this experience as a "drink." After a while I start to feel really good. From a pure physical standpoint it was perhaps better than I've ever felt while drinking. I said "This is awesome. Why the fuck haven't we done this a million times before!" Well, young self, you will shortly find out.

Within 30 minutes I start to feel really shitty. I get these debilitating stomach cramps. They force me to sit on the couch and lean forward with my chest against my legs. This lessens the pain.

Let me give you an idea of how drunk I was and how much pain I was in. My one drunk friend, Pippet, for some crazy reason decided to take handfuls of ketchup and slap my back. I didn't even really care. All I cared about was keeping the cramps at bay and riding it out. So Pippet is just there sitting next to me and rubbing condiments on to my white shirt like a madwoman. All I could really muster was a faint "wtf, please stop" or two. Pippet just ignored me and refused to relent.

The fact that this all occurred in the middle of a weekday makes the whole scenario even more ridiculous. Through the grace of God Himself I recover from the cramps somewhat but am still feeling quite crappy. We eventually called our high school and left a voicemail which was the collective chanting of "we love lesbians!" This exemplifies the randomness of the day and the devastation of drink #3.

Picture Time

I uploaded some pics I took on my phone.

Here our deck that I climbed on to. This pic gives you a better idea what I was up against.

Here is Sadam. He's still alive, apparently.

St. Wasted's Day

I went home to PA on Friday. Here be the occurances:

• On Friday P-Diddy and I met our friend David Vogel at a bar named The Fox and the Hound. There were a couple chicks that came and sat right next to us and wanted to chat it up. We were pretty rude and didn't even bother to humor them for a minute. P-Diddy and I did, however, challenge Vogel to spit some game at the girls when he claimed that he had "mad game." Mockingly I dubbed him Milton Bradley because he has so much game.
  

• My friend Mack P had people over his house on Saturday. I brought over some Keystone and Guinness and we started drinking early (~5). We played pong throughout the night. My teams (including the infamous Team Hardcore- Me, P-Diddy, and the aptly named Cups) were 9-0. The last game was a pain. Our ghetto setup got changed somehow and moved from 9ft to ~10.5ft. I like 9ft the best because I feel like it fits my natural stroke. I'm fine with playing longer distances but the problem with the setup was the the ceiling was too low. Because I have a high release and put a lot of arc on the ball, I hit the ceiling multiple times and was forced to laser it. I somehow managed to hit a redemption shot and we won it in OT.
  
• Reading the above makes me wonder if I take pong too seriously. Wait, there's no such thing.
• Some random peeps from high school showed up. They brought 40s. I grabbed an OE and it was all downhill from there.
  
• We went to Tom's Diner really late. I for some reason ordered a ton of food- the "country breakfast," and 2 orders of bacon and 2 orders of eggs. That's like 6 eggs plus a bunch of other stuff. I didn't mean to order this much. There was some confusion in the loudness/dunkedness. The waitress was being a bitch and claimed that I would never eat all of that. This pissed me off and I started to pump myself up so I could eat it all. I mean, seriously, what kind of waitress mocks you for ordering a lot? Doesn't that help her? Good Lord. When the food comes I realize in 3 bites that I have no chance of finishing. My friends help me out and I still can't finish it. All of the booze and this huge egg sandwich that Mack P made me was just way too much. All of that food did sober me up pretty well, however.
  
• When we get back to Mack's everyone is gone and the door to the other half of the door is locked. I break in with a credit card to get my jacket. I learned later that it was locked because someone was in there with their lady friend. Luckily my timing was good.
• P-Diddy was semi-macking on this one girl that showed up. However he was cockblocked by one of our old schoolmates. He was not happy.
• I went on facebook and went nuts. I may have called one of my old college friends a "dumb bitch" on her fb wall. This was not good. Facebook should require a breathalyzer.
• Somebody stole Mack P's stove's knobs. This was not cool.
• Late in the night Vogel was sitting in a chair. I went nuts and started to kick out the posts below the seat that held the chair together until it collapsed beneath him.
• I woke up with so many scratches on me. My elbow was all scraped because I fell up the stairs. I also had scratches all over my forearm and hands because I was playing with "Balls", which is one of Mack P's rabbits. Yes, I was playing with Balls.
• While we are out at Tom's I was in one of my belligerent smack-talking modes. I kept calling people proletariats or "proles".
• Also, fireworks were set off randomly.
• Team Dynasty is 8-0 (5-0).
  

Rekord Keapin

• Friday my coworker Kimbo had a charity drink-a-thon. $25 for 3 hours. Naturally, many of us became over-served.
• When I walked Big Red out to a cab I was carrying a half-gallon of milk. So picture me chillin at a street corner chugging a large container of milk at 4 am. Ridiculous.
• 4/5 in beer pong. However, we were 4/4 in games remembered.
• We had a 3-person dance party in front of the TV way late at night for absolutely no reason other than that we were drunk and immature. P-diddy danced so hard that he ripped his pants. Now that is intense. The rip was seriously over a foot long on the inside of his leg.
• The loudness of our party somewhat angered D. He came down at one point in the night and said, "I'll save you 2 hours. Big Red is gonna scream 'whoooo!', P-diddy is gonna say that his pants have a hole, and JD is gonna be doing the robot and poppin' and lockin'." The sad thing is that he was completely correct.
• I determined a new way of living and decision making- WWHBD. I.e., what would Humphrey Bogart do? More than likely he would bogart that shit.
• Went to Jack's on Halsted on Saturday. Was awesome.
• ND got fuckin screwed today with the shitty NCAA tourney draw.
• I created a linear equation for evaluating females. I'm not going to post it but if you inquire I may be able to explain and/or show it to you.

Mr. Jones

I recently found out Mike Jones is coming out with a movie. Let me guess the plot: At the beginning hoes didn't want him. As the movie progresses he becomes hot. The conclusion is hoes are all up on him.

The names have been changed but the problems are real

Just as a note, I'm beginning to change the names of the people in all of my stories regardless of how devatasting I deem the entry. I've generally done this but haven't been consistent. In basically all cases you can ask me and tell you who it was. Also, the names will change from story to story. Just FYI.

Weekend

Just for record keeping purposes:

• Friday one of my coworkers held a house warming party. It was a lot of fun. We chilled at her apartment then went out to a Karaoke bar near where I used to live. One of my friends was a little tipsy and people kept giving her drinks. P-diddy (one of my friend's nick name) and I took the initiative of taking her drinks and drinking them. The problem with this was that a.) I ended up drinking some weird girly drinks and b.) I got drunker than I wanted to. I wanted to limit my intake b/c I had a "hot date" at noon on Saturday and needed to have my ish together.
• At the bar P-diddy did the whole "hit the beer bottle to make it overflow" thing to our friend Mark. Mark thought that, for some reason, if he put his thumb on top of the bottle that it would prevent any from coming out. However, he learnt quickly that the pressure was too much to handle and a stream of beer flew 8 feet in the air and doused some girl at the bar. It was devastating and I quickly ran from the scene. The scene was reminiscent of the part in Super Troopers where Farva gets wasted and sprays beer all over the place while screaming "Farva's number one!" repeatedly. We made sure to tell Mark he's number one.
• My one friend kinda-sorta almost got in a fight with a bouncer. That would have been interesting.
• S Dot came over on Saturday. The usual hilarity ensued. We drank a bunch of OE and played pong. We then went over to Mike's house to a party. Since I started drinking at like 3, I was hurting pretty bad and had to hold off drinking for a while. I felt like clowning it up that night so I was dancing quite a bit. Quite ridiculous.
  

Placeholder

This is reminding myself to write an entry on HPT. Don't have time now.

I would just like to express that I am down with that street vernacular, yo.

Don't be all insolent and shit up in my countenance, or I will bust a cap in your person. Pursuant to said policy, all haters will have to chill thier roll.

Even the blind squirrel finds a nut sometimes...

...and sometimes, out of pure dumb luck, he finds two.

Interesting Night

After work I went out with some work peeps and I almost busted a devastating joke. It went like the following. Female person who shall remain nameless: "I think I'm going to take the L home today. I'm not used to riding the train." I was about to say, "Yeah, you're used to a train being run on you!" Had I said the above, it would've been disastrous. And amazingly hilarious. Everyone there would've gone home and told their friends about it. Damn you tact.

Early Adopters

My friends and I were all about ghost riding before ghost riding was cool. Remember that.

Nanner

Today I replaced my friend/coworker's phone handset with a banana when he was out. I then called him as soon as he entered his cube.


I was going to buy a shirt with the above on the front but a.) it's somewhat insensitive (I'm not that immature these days) b.) I don't look good in black shirts, and c.)19/20 people wouldn't get it. However, it's very fucking humorous.


Gallent from Highlights is a smug bastard.


I thought of the worst. alarm clock. ever. On weekdays, it awakens its victim by playing a "Cha-Cha Slide" lyric. Specifically- "Go to work." Not only does it play a part of one of all time's worst songs, it commands and mocks you by telling you that you need to go to the office. You're gauranteed to shoot youself.


Since when did the word "nasty," as in "good at something," appear in the common vernacular? I missed the memo. Damn PC Load Letter. I would appreciate comment on this.

Sudoku

What's the obsession with Sudoku? I completed a "grid" or whatever on an airplane once and it sucked. It's effectively executing an algorithm over and over in your head until all squares are filled. I found it extremely mechanical. I'm pretty sure I could write a C++ program in under an hour that could solve these things.

I have a funny story regarding Sudoku matrices. I was on a crowded train one morning at there was this 22ish year-old girl sitting down doing a Sudoku puzzle. Sitting next to her is this really shading-looking guy who's blatantly looking over her shoulder. He's staring at the puzzle for a good 5 minute then whispers loudly "the middle is 5." She finds herself in a conundrum. She can a.) write in the 5 and motivate the weirdo to continue feeding her answers as well as concede that this screwball figures something out before you, or b.) not write it and come across as either stubborn or an asshole. It was a no win situation and I felt bad for her. She made the right call by waiting 45 seconds or so and then wrote it in. T'was quite awkward and amusing.

ConvenientTruth

OH MY FUCKING GOD IT'S GLOBAL FUCKING WARMING! WE'RE ALL FUCKED IN OUR ASSES BECAUSE IT'S GETTING SO HOT AND THE ICE CAPS ARE GONNA MELT AND WE'RE ALL GONNA HAVE TO EVOLVE WATERWOLD STYLE. AL GORE WAS RIGHT, WE'RE ALL GONNA BURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRN!

(btw that pic says negative 20 something windchill if you can't read it)

You know it's cold when... (btw, these are all things I have personally observed)

...it hurts to breathe.
...your head gets so cold that it feels like "brain freeze" when you eat ice cream too fast.
...your clothes are cold for 3 minutes after going inside.
...train signals don't work. (!)
...condensation from your breath on your glasses freezes.
...you get excited to see that temps are set to rise to the mid twenties.
...you see people sprinting to get inside a la The Day After Tomorrow.

This is what happens when temps are close to neg 10 with wind chill up to neg 35. This has been ridiculous. And when you spend at least 20% of your 45+ minute commute outside, this sucks brutally. It just plain can't get any colder at this latitude. I'm convinced this has been a 5, maybe 6, sigma event.

Posting for the sake of posting

My friend Kim organized a firm-wide happy hour with all the different branches and divisions. The turnout was pretty good. About 30-50 people were there. When we showed up there was this group of people at a table we thought we had reserved. At first we were like "whatever" but once more people arrived we tried to get them to move. They acted like they worked for our company but eventually we proved they didn't and we called the bouncers. The perps were acting like a bunch of juvenile hardasses and we almost got in a fight. Anyhow, crisis averted. I didn't really "mingle" with my fellow coworkers a whole lot because I wasn't in the mood. I did, for once, meet a girl that wasn't taken/annoying/unattractive. I'm surprised these girls exist any more with my luck. We'll see where that goes. Also of note, for the first time that I could remember, I had a white American cab driver. It was amazing. Very little else of note occurred yesterday.

Alcohol => Awesome Judgement

Here's the story. Tonight I went out drinking with some peeps. Dave wasn't feeling well and Pace was out of town so it just me. I drink a few drinks and whatnot. I took it somewhat easy. Anyhow, I come back and I realize I don't have my keys. I ring the doorbell and Dave for some reason isn't answering. Fine, I'll use the garage door. I use the code and roll up to the door that separates me from the ole homestead. Of course it is locked. I make a frowny face. I try the doorbell and banging on the garage door to no avail. I weigh my options:

• Sleep in Dave's car. This was probably my smartest option. However, this would not be terribly fun and I'm not even sure if his car is unlocked. Given Dave's apparent affinity toward locking things this option might not have even been possible.
• Call my good friend who I was out with and see if I can crash at her place. This was a reasonable and smart option. I would've felt bad asking to stay over and she was still out. Also, I would've had to make the trek to her place and back in the morning.
• Quit being a bitch and somehow climb up onto our deck-like thing and hopefully gain entry though the sliding glass door.

Guess which one I chose! If you guessed the dumb choice, then you are correct. Let us go through the sequence of events. At first I thought option 3 was very reasonable because I knew we had this step ladder type thing in the garage. So I find that thing and set it up underneath our deckish thing. Let me give you a quick idea of our deck so you can understand the circumstances I faced. Our deck protrudes roughly 5 feet above the road and is 10-11 feet above the ground. It is a lot higher than it looks.

So there I am drunk and ready to tackle this monstrosity. Even if I do conquer this beast the door might not even be unlocked. Then I would be really fucked. But it's cool because I has gots this ladder. I set up the step ladder and the Goddamn thing is seriously 3 feet off the ground at the maximum. My spirit is broken. I can get my paws on the bottom rung of the deck but that's it. The task of getting up there was quite daunting and I was appropriately scared of falling and hurting myself. For the next 5 minutes I waffle between trying to wake Dave up and seeing if I have a chance to make it up on the deck. In a wondrous stroke of brilliance and gall (read: irrational exuberance due to intoxication) I hype myself up and decide to really try to get up there. I get my hands on the bottom part of the I-beam that supports the deck and then reach up to grab the vertical metal bars of the deck. At this point my feet are completely removed from the ladder and I am past the point of no return. I make my way up the structure inch by inch by alternately sliding up each hand up the rails. Eventually I get high enough to where I can put my knee inside the I-beam and use that as a leverage point. Game over. I pull myself up, exhale and put my hand on the sliding glass door handle. If I can't get in I'm screwed. Getting down might actually be more dangerous than getting up. As expected the door is open and I gain entry. I was ridiculously pumped that I was able to get inside after being stuck in the cold and seemingly without a prayer of getting in. I then performed, truly by reaction, an NFL touchdownesque celebration. I recall ripping off my jacket, slamming it on the floor, and doing other ridiculous motions.

You need to understand, my veins were running with adrenaline and testosterone. They needed to be in order to do get up on this deck. A calm, rational person would not and could not do this. Of course, as soon as I get upstairs to my computer Dave comes out of his room. Nice timing Dave.

PSA

I think I found my calling. I'm going to travel around to high schools and such to talk to kids about alcohol. I'm not going to tell them not to drink or to drink moderately, but to handle their biz. The gist of my message: "Little Johnny had too much to drink one night, drove home, and ran over an orphanage. Johnny, I don't care if you had 20 drinks. Quit being a bitch and handle your shit, son!"

iWar

Apple and Google are growing at tremendous paces and moving into new realms. I predict that eventually the two are going to take over everything in the world. And when they realize that there is nothing else to assimilate, they will turn on each other, spawning World War III.

The Apple side will use iGuns. Positive- you can listen to MP3s while blasting the enemy. Negative- Overpriced and frequently jams. Breaks after 1 year.

The Google side will have handy java-based online tools such as http://bombs.google.com where you can use their convenient hybrid map/satellite view and drop bombs on various locations. Ironically, there is a add for the iPhone painted on the bombs.

Payback Time

Thanks to my good friend "Anti-Beer," I found a site that involves rating high school teachers. Lucky for me, my ole alma mater was on the list. Sadly, the character limit is a measly 2 bills, so the comments aren't as developed as I would like. I made ends meet however. My posted comments:

Stoce: A god among mortals.
B^2: I endured 3 years of this "teacher". Her class is easy (read: you won't learn anything) but she is caustically condescending due to a deep-seated inferiority complex. She also dresses inappropriately.
Goodin: This man is illogical and takes things way too seriously. If you have your shirt untucked you will be caned.
Leinhart:In between the coughs she is really nice and very lenient. However, it's debatable that I actually learned anything. Btw, almost everyone mispronounces her name.
Camille: Dictator-in-Teach "Camillionaire" Panich has a Stalinesque style which is beautifully illustrated in her crack-pot rules and the intellectual Holodomors she calls "class."
Ramstein: Ms. Alexis "Ramstein" Salantro could bore a brain-dead turtle.
Stanton: Stanto the Amazo will own you at Candystand Golf. He is also a reasonable and logical teacher.
Zimm: Awesome teacher. David Zimmerman touched me in ways I cannot describe. His actions as a teacher and coach sent tingles down my spine- especially on the bus. Whoo!
Tonya: The pop-quizzes are insufferable and pointless. She treats you like a child and is amazed when you act like one.

New Year's Eve

A few notes from NYE for documentation's sake:

-People named Boris can drink. Especially Vodka.

-I caused a scene. Thankfully, there were other scenes and occurrences that diluted mine. Such as karaoke breaking out, obsession over polar bears/parachutes/gold dresses, puking over balconies, double death cups, inappropriate ass-slapping, dancing on objects, etc.

-I fell asleep way too early. I was up at 9 that day and forgot to pound out vodka and red bulls.

-It was a good party because sometimes I feel really old and it depresses me. I try to keep it as immature as possible, and that was at least partially accomplished.

Oh Sevon

I had a dream that I ate my pillow and when I woke up my giant marshmallow was gone.