My trip to Boston

Stupid snooze button...that's what I thought walking out my door last Friday. Then I thought better-stupid moron for hitting the snooze button. I barely made my 8 AM flight. I hit every light along the way to the airport. I had 2 buses pass me while waiting at the parking lot. Then I hit the outside bag checker at 7:17, which is 2 whole minutes after the 45 minute window to make sure your luggage would be on your flight. I asked the guy if he could make sure, he said 'no problem'....I should find him and call him a liar, because that was not the case.

I got to fly thru Chicago Midway, not a bad airport, and it's nicer than I remember. Then off to Boston. I land, it's ugly. It's gray, it's raining/misting. I have tickets to the Sox/Rays game, for my boy's bachelor weekend. I wait for my bag, it never showed. Crap Salad!! So I got to fill out a form and was told that if it made it on the next flight, I would owe them $20 for delivery-but if it came on the flight after that, it would be free....what kind of racket is this? Well, I know my luck, so I was prepped to fork over the $20 dummy tax.

My buddy picked me up, went to our hotel, and I can see TD Banknorth Garden from our room! It's like a 10 minute walk. Another buddy picks us up, and we're off to the game while it's raining, this doesn't look good, like I don't think they'll get the game in. Well, they got 20 pitches in, then had a rain delay for 2 hours and 20 minutes. I'll tell you that the Sox and their management team are not on my Christmas card list. They simply kept the doors open in order to ring up some beer sales. There was no way this game was getting played. It truly irked me, as my feet were all cold and wet-I hate that! But the best part of the evening hadn't even happened yet...
We left Fenway, my boy and I dropped off at the hotel. We walk 4 steps in, find that my luggage was delivered, paid the front desk the $20 dummy tax, and decided we weren't even close to being done drinking. So we went to the bar down the street. It was us two, the bartender, and the cackle of broads (I'm well aware that certain women don't like the term 'broad'...guess what, don't be a broad and I won't call you one, umkay?). The bartender was a bit surly and wanted the drunk broads- her term now, not mine-gone from her bar. I had a beer, he had a glass of wine (cue the 'fag' jokes) and she asked us what the heck we were doing here of all places. Yup, she was sarcastic, but funny. When my buddy told her bachelor party, she had to respond with, 'So, all your friends here, huh?' It's times like this that I miss Boston. No one got my sarcastic wit when I moved out here 12 years ago, and this reminded me why. We have thicker skin, there, I said it. I looked at my watch, it was 11:45, and was asked if I wanted another beer. Time to shift. My buddy then realized what day it was (read the last blog posting), and told me he was so sorry for being selfish. I had to assure him that this day was all about him but I had to pay my respects my way, albeit subtly. Time for Abosolut, rocks, no fruit. He switched to Grey Goose and soda. He wasn't paying attention to what she was pouring, but I was. She had the heaviest hand I've seen in years. Count 1 'so why are you guys hanging around here?' Count 2 'Why not have your bachelor party in Vegas?'..you get the idea.
When she handed him his drink he took a sip and it was go-time. She said, 'my condolences on the nuptuals.' Classic. The drunk broads left, and a couple showed up, and they were arguing. If there is another thing that is completely underrated about the northeast, it's the passion people bring. It might be misconstrued or completely misguided, but make no mistake, we care...maybe a little too much. Come to find out, they are getting married the day before my buddy, in Fanuiel Hall. Small world, I swear. At 1, the bartender shuts it down. But Boston is still open, considering we're in Charlestown. $5 cab ride, here we come.
Cabbie dropped us off right in front of The Harp, and the guy wouldn't let us in. Go figure. So down the street we went to McGann's Pub, now it's like 1:20. The girl at the register tried to whack us $10 each for a cover charge. Last call was in 10 minutes! So we talked her down to $5 for the two of us. Shot and a beer, and we turn around to what has to be the goofiest band I've ever seen. The lead singer has his head shaved into the classic half-moon, the drummer looks like a lineman, the guitarist like any other 17 year old kid with a bad haircut knowing two chords, and the electric cello. Yup, read that again. He looked like he was in his own world. I've spent 10 minutes looking online and can't find the name of this band, but if anyone knows it, please let me know so that I can somehow get one of their songs played at my buddies wedding. After the laughing, shot and a beer, I was told to go get another round. Happy to oblige. I turn around to see my friend taking off his watch. The lead singer tells us that this song is sure to piss off any and ever Italian American. The lyric? "Frank Sinatra is a fucking homo". I laughed my ass off. By now, 5 people are moshing. There might be 30 people including staff in this place. I asked my buddy why the watch came off. He clearly was drunk, insinuating that it might be tough to leave this place...Yeah, right. We left, Yo Cabbie!!

Saturday was more of the same, except that my boy woke up with a hangover. I woke up with the cobwebs. I think I went to bed around 3, woke up at 9. Buffet breakfast here we come. He was supposed to go golfing, I was supposed to meet a friend, neither of those panned out. Since we were the only two down at breakfast who hadn't showered, we laughed. It's why he's one of my best friends, we laugh at pretty much everything. Well, no one wanted to be the one to cancel golf on the poor guy, so he made the call. It was raining, pretty good, golf wasn't happening. And of course the obligatory 'CaddyShack' quotes, we had fun. A few of the guys decided to meet us at North Station and go get beers and apps well before dinner at 8. So we walked down to The Fours, and were immediately put on the paynomind list by the waitress. Forgotten about for a good 15 minutes. Since the 5 of us hadn't been around together in a good 3 years, ball-bustin' was going on until the drunk of the group (no, not me) realized we had no beer...blasphemy!! We had some beer and some apps, then another joined us. Now we're 6. Off to Fanueil Hall. We went to McFadden's, where they have this huge TV/posting board where you can text things and they will show up. Apparently, no filter. So there were all these Florida fans when my buddy Chris decided to let them know that "Tebow is a Gay". Then the bachelor decided to let the two girls standing next to us eating chicken wings that I wished I were a chicken wing. And as soon as it was posted screamed out my name, "Hey, A!" Yup, my friends. Then off to the Black Rose. And then time to get ready for dinner.
I had to go back to the hotel, I needed a fresh shirt, and ran around in the rain for a second. Dinner was down in the North End, and I forgot where I was for a second where I was. The sidewalks fit one person, pretty much, and tourists tend to stop in the middle for no damn good reason other than they've never seen gelato. We got to the restaurant and the food was great. It was loud as all get out, and then off to a bar. Hey, when it's your boy's bachelor weekend, you do what they want. No strippers, no problem. No road trip to Montreal? Fine, I guess (yes, 3 of my friends honestly thought that's what we'd be doing...and it would've been great). After a few more beers, my buddy Jay gave me the sign for it was time to go. The bachelor was upstairs at the club portion, and we were in the bar. I sent him a text message, to no avail, since he was with his cousins. Jay was kind enough to drive me to my hotel, but not before we made a detour to Kelly's on the beach (it's just something we do, and it's awesome).

Sunday morning, I'm up and out the door, lugging my luggage to North Station to catch the train to Lowell, so my brother can come and get me, and so we can watch football. He came and got me, and I have a few observations on the kid-he's mad, and no one knows at what. I have no clue why he's so angry, so wanting to fight or argue with anyone and everyone. He smokes WAY too much weed, and he has a girlfriend, so he gets some on the regular. I thought with the effects of THC and the endorphin rush from the nookie, the kid should be in a pretty good mood, wouldn't you? I think it's safe to say the kid might even be bipolar. One minute all sweet and nice, next minute he'd do bodily harm to you. I don't get it. Let's just say watching football was a bit unnerving. I got to see my Ma, too.
She's alright. She's lonely, confused, sad, and trying to get thru every day. I can't fathom what it would be like to lose someone I loved for 40 years. But she did need to laugh, and that's what I do best, I make her laugh, because I'm just nuts. Not in the bad way, I'm just goofy.
I got to see my boy G$, too. He's been in his place for like 4 years and I've never seen it. He's got his mancave set up with a 120-inch HD projection screen, it's sick. The perfect thing to watch football on, I swear. It was great to catch up with him, too. He lost his Dad in January, so we're now a part of this fraternity, and neither one of us ended up rushing it. Since we've been friends since the 8th grade, oldest siblings and the sanest of our respective families, let's just say we share a lot of common threads. He's even a Yankees fan, and I don't hold that against him. It was just great to see him and reconnect.

Monday was nothing, other than me planning for Tuesday (you'll see it in a second), I crashed out for most of the day, did some things around the house for Ma, and then my brother drove me to my buddy Jay's house. Jay was kind enough to give me a key to his house Saturday night, and was giving me one of his cars to borrow for my excursion. I stayed up all night planning my route for Tuesday.

So what was Tuesday? Easy, it was my best and last attempt at finding a job in Boston. 8 companies, one car, one day. No appointments. Just a suit and tie on and resumes in hand. The definition of old school. And I could not have done this without Jay. You all should be so lucky to have a friend like him. So the companies-well, I had touched base with every one of these either by applying online or snail mail cover letters. They weren't random. Quick notes on every one of them (one in Charlestown, 6 in Waltham, and the last in Burlington):

CO 1-Person I wanted to speak to was in a just-called all day meeting, but the receptionist was shocked that anyone from Denver would come all the way just for a possible 5 minute meeting.
CO 2-I will never talk to these folks again. Nor have I been treated so rudely. You'd have thought I was peddling Satan Worshipping or Amway. The door was never opened completely, the woman told me they weren't hiring as her intro to opening the door and then told me they just laid off people. Funny, when I spoke with the CEO 3 months ago, things were going great.
CO 3-They were polite, but wanted nothing to do with me.
CO 4-The person I wanted to talk to was in Connecticut, but the guy who took my resume was very polite and wished me well. After CO 2, I needed a bit of a boost.
CO 5-The person I wanted to talk to was in Venice, Italy. Seriously, Connecticut is far enough, no need to go across the Atlantic to duck me...sheesh. But the guy that took my resume was impressed that I just showed up.
Then, it was lunch with my friend Kim. I met Kim at a conference last year in Vegas, and I was the only one of my company that met her that didn't try to bed her. Why? Well, the giant wedding ring was kind of clue. I don't hit on married women, and I'm not a complete pig. And her company and my company were in discussions to form a partnership, guess who was leading that? Yours truly. Catching up with her was great, and gave me the 'juice' I needed to continue my quest of hitting up these companies.
CO 6-They couldn't find the VP, but knew she was in the building. Her assistant, all 23 bubbly years of her, came out to meet me. In 3 minutes she had to tell me 5 times how impressed and cool it was that I just showed up. I also got to scare the bejesus out of the guy in the elevator with me on the way up, because he was in a suit as well, for an interview. He even asked if I was interviewing for the same job as he was, and I told him it depended on the job. He's a software developer, so he's very safe.
CO 7-I had emailed this guy 3 times and left 2 messages, to no avail. Now I was bound and determined to have this guy meet me (let's just say I'm a wee bit stubborn), and after the guilt trip that the receptionist gave him, "He's all the way here from Denver, find 5 minutes!" he made time. He was extremely impressed and we discussed some roles and what I'm looking for. I hold no hope, but was thankful for 5 minutes.
CO 8-Before I walked into the building, I ran into someone I worked with at Sun, out here in Colorado-small freaking world. I told the receptionist who I was looking for, and she said he's no longer there...damn. I asked for the new guy. He came out in 2 minutes and told me he had to meet me. Who, me? Why? "Tell your friends in Denver that cold calling still works." Holy crap!! We spoke for a half hour. He's putting together a management team to realize the return on leadership development (why this cranks my engine, I have no idea-but if the end result is that I somehow develop better leaders in companies instead of the constant barrage of middle-management diaperdumpage I've been seeing, I'm all in), and he wants to talk to me again. I was shocked and excited. I've left him one voicemail, and will be calling again on Monday.
So, as you can see, the day got better, but then it got great. I got to see and hold my Godson. He's grown so much in 3 months it's ridiculous. He gave me some raspberries and he's just so darn cute. If you have a Tuesday like that, lemme know, we can compare notes.

Wednesday was Ma day. It's her normal day off so we got to hang out, go to lunch, and talk. She loves our talks. I got to tell her about my search, which got her all sorts of psyched. We talked about how she's doing, why she's so afraid to go out and meet people (hullo? At 58, if you don't have that in your skillset, I could see it being difficult). She was so proud and shocked about what I did on Tuesday, but wanted to make sure it wasn't for any reason other than me. And I told her what I'll tell you now-It was for me, it was done my way, I left it all out there, no regrets. If none of these companies don't want my talent, that's cool with me, but I did it how I wanted to do it. Besides, who else could it be for? I wasn't kidding when I stated that I was going to be more selfish. I can be a prick just like the rest of them. I even thought of extending my trip, on the chance that the guy from CO 8 called and wanted to talk on Friday. I was going to pair that with seeing someone else, but it all fell thru.
But hanging with Ma was great. And then she cried because she realized that I was leaving Thursday morning. I told her don't cry, I may be back in November, and who knows, maybe sooner if I get one of these companies to nut up and hire me. She was cool with that. I had to reassure her that if this doesn't work, I'll go down another path, and that soon enough she'll be fine and well taken care of. I won't share that path because I want this one to finish before really thinking about it.
I did get to see my boy G$ again and my friend Heather, who's visiting from Salt Lake City (she's not a huge fan, whoda thunk it?). I just thought it was cool that I got to see someone else visiting from out of town. My brother even joined us for a drink, and he got along with my friends, which was a very pleasant surprise.

Thursday, on a bus way too early to make sure I made my flight and didn't get charged for my luggage this time...what can I say, I'm a planner. Ma dropped me off and almost crushed my ribs with her hug. I miss her already. Bus ride was in the morning commute (who's the genius who planned the return flight? Crap, that was me), thank goodness for the iPod, I swear! My flights were good, just glad to be back in my own bed after 3 nights of a couch and 3 nights of a pull out couch. My lower back is none too pleased, but I'll be good soon enough.

That's my trip, I'll keep y'all posted. Have a great Sunday!

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Now playing: Jay-Z - Chrisette Michele / Lost One
via FoxyTunes

What September 11th means to me....

So I'm sitting here as Thursday night football is about to kick off, the start of another NFL season, and before Harry Connick, Jr. sings the national anthem, September 11th and Flight 93 are mentioned. I assure this blog won't be political, I will waste my breath on the stupidity in DC at another time. This is far more personal.

Tomorrow is more personal to me. I'll be on a plane to go to Boston, and if you can't feel the irony, then you don't know history. Boston was where 9-11 started, but when I woke up that morning, I had one thing to do, call my Pops, because 9/11/1950 is his birthday. Well, 11/07/2008 was the day he decided to leave this Earth and go one to a different place, and I'm hoping for him it is a better place.

Richard J. Solan taught me many things, some good, some bad, and mostly great. He died far too young, as far as I'm concerned, as he never will get to be there for either of his sons to get married, sire children and see how they do. He didn't like me too too much when I was a kid growing up, spent a year calling me 'oaf' when I was 9, but he did love me. How do I know? Easy, no one would've been so hard on me otherwise. It's my blog, it's my belief, and it's what allows me to get thru every day.

I know I laugh like him when I'm being mischiveous. I know I sound just like him when certain situations arise. I know I miss him like mad at times like these.

In truth, he became a better father after my brother came along. He became a great Dad about the time I started my senior year of college. Maybe he knew all along that I was not long for the Northeast once I graduated. I certainly didn't. Go figure, while my brother was doing his thing and being a degenerate (and if he can't admit that, then we got bigger problems), he started showing up in different ways. How? Well, he physically showed up to my bar on more than one occassion on his way home. I remember the night he stopped by, I was down in the storage area, and my partner for the evening, Big Scott (think 6'3", solid 250, mason by day) came down and told me my Dad was at the end of the bar.
'Drinking a Miller Lite?'
"Uh, no, you might wanna come up and see him"
'What the hell is he drinking?'
"Absolut, rocks, no fruit." (Yes, you've heard me order it, as that's my drink of choice if I'm not drinking Miller Lite-commence shutting up and keep reading)
'Uh-oh'

If he started off a night like that, something was definitely up. The man drank Miller Lite, Absolut, and Grand 'Cuckoo' Marnier. Funny, guess what I drink? Literally the same damn thing. The apple (me) didn't fall too far from the tree.

Want me to sum my old man up in one sentence, no problem. I did this just the other day, it's a quote from Mr. Saturday Night-'Every guy wanted to know him and every woman wanted to fuck him.' And I'm dead serious. He was a good looking man. He had style, and a strut. He taught me to hold my head up high, to never apologize for who you were, unless you were an asshole, then apologize all the time.

I was amazed that after I moved out to Denver how smart he had become (yes, that's a joke). We taled all the time, he came out and visited for business and stayed with me, it was great. We would goof around and laugh. How could you not miss that?

He met a bunch of my friends and they all loved him. Some of my buddies from elementary/jr/high school were intimidated by him. FYI, my Pops was 5'8" on a really sunny day, and averaged 156 lbs. Not the most intimidating figure you'll ever see. But to me, he was Superman. I realize that Superman had kryptonite when I was about 15. His vices were trying to appease his Mother, albeit quietly. It was a wasted effort. Another vice, a far more deadly one, was smoking. 4-5 packs a day. So if you or someone you know and love is smoking, tell them about my Dad, how he died at 58 and left a wife and two grown children staring at each other thinking out loud 'WTF?!!' 58 is too damn young.

Like I said, I miss him, and at times like these I feel like I need him. The best thing, though, is that I can close my eyes, take a deep breath, and he's right there. All the lessons, the yelling, the calm, the sarcasm, it's all there. And when you speak to me, it's probably all there, too. I'm a product of my environment, and I know in my heart he tried very hard to make sure I didn't do certain things in my life, that I would be better than him, that I'd have more than him.

Well, as a kid, I wish I had him around more. I wish he didn't do the Sunday crossword puzzle in pen and in silence. I wish he told my Mother how beautiful she is, how much he loved her and appreciated all she did. I wish he told my brother to grow up and laugh at himself. I think he is getting there, but some encouragement wouldn't have hurt. I wish he would've told me that he was sorry, and meant it. I wish he weren't selfish. I wish he didn't give more to his Elks Lodge than he did to his family. But most importantly, I wish he were still here.

And it's because all of the things I learned, too numerous to mention. But I will list some things in a sec, and I can tell you he shocked me more than once. The time in 5th grade that I got in huge trouble for swearing, I was sure I was dead where I stood when he showed up at the principal's office. I couldn't have been more wrong. He had a moment of patience, and it saved me a beatin'. I will tell you that he wasn't a hypocrite. He never told my brother and I not to smoke, drink, do drugs, have unprotected sex or have too much fun. He told us why it wouldn't be a great idea. That type of honesty is something a ton of parents now could take a few notes on. He told me we'd never be friends, and he was right. Well, until the last few years. He did a pretty good job of teaching me how to be a guy, so I didn't have to learn too much in the last few years.

So, what did he teach me? Easy, I'm one of the few guys that can dance, so I have rhythm. How many white guys do you know that can dance without the overbite? Exactly my point. I know how to cook, how to buy a suit, and again, I can't stress this enough, how to be a guy. I know that I don't judge a man based on skintone (so he's got a better tan, big whoop), but to evaluate him on his character. I think he really wanted me to be a jack of all trades, and I can attest that I am. I fear no one and I can talk to almost anyone. I'll never be the smartest guy in the room but I'll never be the dumbest. And I'll lead with my heart before I do my head. It's my downfall, but I just want it to be fair.

It's been one of the things that's been bugging me lately, that I've spent all this time playing it straight, that that's how it really is. Well, it's not. Most, not all, people have an angle. I can hear him laughing now.

What else did I learn? This is so simple, it's funny. Most of the things you see and know about me when I'm out and about, that's Pops. Open, honest to a fault, let it all hang out and never apologize, that's all him. Looking good, being clean, choosing friends, smirking all the live long day, that's him, too. Never watching the ball while watching hoops? Yup, that's him, too.

Knowing when to say when? Ha, did you meet my Dad? There were moments, but far and few between. Now, know when to get a ride, you betcha.

Suffice to say, he was awesome to hang out with, could bust chops with the best of 'em, and I'm pretty darn sure he was proud of me. I think the best lesson he may have taught me applies to the previous sentence. Some people will like you, some people won't. Those that don't, fuck 'em, it's their loss. That's pretty good advice, if you ask me.

So here, on September 10th, let me say it to you on 9/11, Pops.

Happy Birthday. You are loved, you are missed, but most of all, you're remembered very fondly. And as long as Ryan and I are around, you won't be forgotten any time soon. I'll be raising my glass to you tomorrow night, I assure you.

The picture above is Pops and I. I got my blue eyes from him, amongst other things. Here's some Old Blue Eyes for ya, I hope you're at the end of the bar telling tales, I love ya!


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Now playing: Frank Sinatra - Luck Be a Lady
via FoxyTunes

The Massengill's

Yup, it's time for a new award section. MTV can have their Video Awards (when did they start playing videos again?), you can enjoy the Hollyweird Cock-gobblin' that is the Oscars (after awarding Spiccoli his award this year for partially portraying a gay pedophile, I'm done), but now, after all this time, I have my own hardware (?), or is it software (considering it's made for girls parts, I dunno?), and it's time to had out some awards. I call them The Massengill's, because it sounds classier than 'The Douchies'. My blog, my writing, my awards. Don't like 'em, find, nominate your own. On to the awards. I'm handing out a few....

and The Massengill goes to....
Brett Favre and the ESPN crew calling last Monday night's game. Why? Did you not see the illegal hit he put on Eugene Wilson's knees? If not, well, that's why I'm here:


Now, riddle me this---"That's not cool." WHAT? Mike Tirico, Jon Gruden and Ron Jaworski, that's the best you can come up with? How about dirty, shameless, weak, unnecessary, or better yet, downright cowardly? There, those are stronger words than 'not cool'. Come on, Tirico, you went to the 'Cuse!! Jaws you used to play in the NFL, dammit! And Gruden, you played QB in college and won a Super Bowl with Brad stinkin' Johnson, and that's all this booth can come up with?! Sure hope you guys get to call a Steelers game when Hines Ward does the same thing.

The Mega-Massengill (feel free to call it the SuperGa-Douche if you'd like) goes to...
Brandon Marshall....roll the clip!

For the record, this woman-beater is scheduled to make a pittance of $2.2 Million. Geez, as a guy who's not working, I sure do wish I were 6'4" and run like a gazelle, because I'd take that money and buy my Moms a house. Did I call him a woman-beater? Yes, yes I did. Just because this giant baby in grown mans clothes was acquitted recently doesn't mean he hasn't, didn't or won't hit a woman again. Ladies of Denver, take note. If you want to get smacked around, Brandon is single. If you're smart, you'll find a different dating pool. So glad I'm not a Broncos fan, or I'd strongly have to consider why I am. I get it, he wants a trade, but is this the best way to do it, by acting beyond immature? Where is the veteran presence on this team to tell him to knock it off, play out your season, and go get paid next season as a free agent? And in a year where there will be no salary cap? I hope he gets "Keyshawn'd" and the only team that looks at him is Oakland.

The MegaExtreme Massengill (call it whatever you want) goes to....
Patrick Kane. Why? Because he and his cousin beat up a cab driver over 20 cents. I'm broke and can rub 2 dimes together. And this is potentially one of the up and coming stars in the NHL? Look, Sidney Crosby may donkey punch someone in the beanbag, but at least that's during a game. Kane states he's sorry for the incident. I wonder if he's just sorry or sorry he got caught doing something asinine.

And finally...The Big Giant Hot Water Bottle/Bag Hangin' on the back of your Grandma's Bathroom Door Massengill (The SupercalifragalicsticDouche) goes to....
Rick Pitino. Why? So many reasons, that if I type them out my own eyes might explode out of their respective sockets. First, the impromptu press conference last week:

Now, a full disclosure statement-I can't stand this man for bending over my beloved Celtics and trying to shove Red Auerbach out the door oh so many years ago. That's out of the way. Did any of you watch this whole thing? He brought up Ted Kennedy, 9/11 and the economy to attempt to sidestep the big problem. And what would that be? That he lied, and got caught. Yes, he was the 'victim' of an attempted blackmail. But he also paid for her abortion. He also lied to his family, and most importantly, to his wife. Hey Rick, for lying to your spouse and trying to use other folks' problems, issues and malady's, you my friend get the Biggest Douche Ever Hall of Fame nomination. For me, it's the lying and cheating on your spouse stuff. And you banged her at an Applebee's, maybe even in the bathroom. What are you, 20 years old in a fraternity? Allow me to state the obvious-I hope this kills you in recruiting, when you're in front of a single Mom and her potential millionaire son trying to get him on scholarship at Louisville, I hope an opposing coach brings this up, so then this Mom brings it up. And you have to squirm to try and BS your way out of what happened, because it's in black and white now, it's on YouTube. While you may have been potentially blackmailed, had you kept your penis in your pants and not cheated on your wife, none of this would have happened. And for you to try and pin this back on society is sickening. Your wife should toss you out with that awful white suit of yours, and you claim you went home to comfort her after things were put on the news. Keep your unit on ya, and this never happens, yet it's time to play the blame game. How dumb do you think we are?

Others receiving votes-ABC's crew for last night's Bama/VaTech game (don't make me wait 3 minutes to see a replay, get with it), LeGarrette Blount, The US Congress and it's members who keep calling people Nazis (at least 6 million people died for their religious beliefs, stop demeaning genocide because someone doesn't agree with you), Offensive Coordinators in the NFL, George Lopez for the first 18 minutes of his latest HBO special (like an infomercial for La Raza, charming), and whatever company keeps calling me about the warranty about my '05 Altima (I got rid of it a year ago, leave me alone already!)

To those that are working and have tomorrow off, enjoy! To people like me trying to find work, you enjoy the day as well, but get on it bright and early Tuesday!!!