A few quick notes before the weekend officially kicks off...
The Celtics
Really, this shit needs to stop, and it needs to stop tonight. I don't expect a 'choke', and please oh please stop comparing them to the Bruins. Relax. Knock anyone down that comes into the lane, swing your elbows around like Dwight 'Clark Kent' (lame) Howard and get this series over with. It's done, and just be done with anything remotely near the people of Disney.
The job hunt
Boy oh boy do I have people worried/concerned/happy/confused by my brief conversations on what I'm up to these days....and I kinda like it that way. I had an interview that went well today, and has quite a bit of things that I'm looking for in a company, in what it will let me do, what I can learn, the size of the company, the location, the dress code and who I'd be working for. You know what else? So what. I will be heading home in a few days, and I'll see what happens after I land. I already have one confirmed interview-that would completely change my career path, and I have voicemails into 2 more that should get confirmed on Tuesday before I leave. I can only hope that I actually have to make a decision on what is best for me, which is a weird one. I'm used to making my decisions based on other things (finances, etc.), but this one will be all about what the heck I want to do and where I want to do it. Weird, but exciting.
Stanley Cup
I'm rooting for the Blackhawks, if only to see the city of Chicago win something....who roots for anything in Philly other than the Liberty Bell and the Rocky statue? Philly has the cheesesteak, Chicago has the Italian Beef sandwich (that deep dish gutbomb known as deep dish pizza will be discussed at another time)-advantage Chicago.
Be safe out there during this weekend, enjoy it, thank your Military Service Men and Women wherever you see them, pray for our people to get home safe, and remember what this weekend is all about....
And for the birthday girl.......
----------------
Now playing: Lloyd Banks - Karma
via FoxyTunes
Friday, May 28, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
this is either going to work or blow up in my face
So I just did something I'm not proud of (no fat girl references), like I made a deal with the Devil's helper. I called my Uncle Jack. He's a nice man, I'm sure. We aren't what anyone would call buddy-buddy. But the call had to be made.
Allow me to explain Uncle Jack as I know him-Yuppie. In my family. He is my Pops older brother. 6 kids in Pops family, Uncle Jack is the oldest, Pops the youngest. Everyone else is alive, except for Pops. I don't have a lot of great stories about my Uncle. He graduated from Boston College and has been a yuppie ever since. Suffice to say, we aren't bestest of friends, and I can count on one hand how many times I've seen him, the last time being Pops' wake. But he's done well for himself in business, and knows his way around a board room.
So why call him? Easy-I haven't had a job since August, and wanted a fresh pair of eyes on my way of doing things. I spoke with him for a grand total of 5 minutes, and he wants to see my resume. I'll be sending it out tomorrow (via snailmail...really?) and should hear something next week, maybe even before I fly out to Boston.
Oh, the feeling of trepidation? He's the last person I wanted to ask for help. The last. Really. But I'm out of ideas right now. And as twisted as this is going to come off, never doubt the power of guilt, because when Pops passed, Uncle Jack was impacted. I'm not looking for a handout, just a new set of eyes and an idea if I'm on the right track or if I'm not how to get there.
This is not bad news, or even anything remotely bad. But we've all done something we don't feel exactly right about. I don't want any money, I have enough to get by. But I'm staring at a certain career path I want, and the doors aren't opening. Maybe you don't get certain places without help, and that's all I'm asking for.
Hope Monday went okay for you....
Allow me to explain Uncle Jack as I know him-Yuppie. In my family. He is my Pops older brother. 6 kids in Pops family, Uncle Jack is the oldest, Pops the youngest. Everyone else is alive, except for Pops. I don't have a lot of great stories about my Uncle. He graduated from Boston College and has been a yuppie ever since. Suffice to say, we aren't bestest of friends, and I can count on one hand how many times I've seen him, the last time being Pops' wake. But he's done well for himself in business, and knows his way around a board room.
So why call him? Easy-I haven't had a job since August, and wanted a fresh pair of eyes on my way of doing things. I spoke with him for a grand total of 5 minutes, and he wants to see my resume. I'll be sending it out tomorrow (via snailmail...really?) and should hear something next week, maybe even before I fly out to Boston.
Oh, the feeling of trepidation? He's the last person I wanted to ask for help. The last. Really. But I'm out of ideas right now. And as twisted as this is going to come off, never doubt the power of guilt, because when Pops passed, Uncle Jack was impacted. I'm not looking for a handout, just a new set of eyes and an idea if I'm on the right track or if I'm not how to get there.
This is not bad news, or even anything remotely bad. But we've all done something we don't feel exactly right about. I don't want any money, I have enough to get by. But I'm staring at a certain career path I want, and the doors aren't opening. Maybe you don't get certain places without help, and that's all I'm asking for.
Hope Monday went okay for you....
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Cleanup, aisle 8
I just had a couple of things I wanted to clean up, one from the trip to Reno, and one on a more personal note. Sorry, I had notes written down and I missed some things.
Reno, cont.
Well, this is more like Denver and the tarmac while waiting to takeoff. After the 5th or 6th announcement that this was a full flight, a very nice young lady sat in the middle seat, and she was WAY too dressed up for a plane. Granted, she wasn't wearing the customary 'Juicy' sweatpants, which is a nice touch. So I asked why she was so proper...she was going to meet her boyfriend's parents and family for the first time. She may have been 21, barely. But she seemed nervous (seriously, after getting patted down and my bag checked, I think this beard makes me look suspicious-whatever, I'm keeping it). I told her she looked presentable and would be fine, just impress his Mom. I don't make the rules. The only other question I had was how long they were dating-3 months. And they were planning their next vacation together later in the summer. Sorry, maybe I'm terrified and jaded at this whole dating process, so my face belied my surprise. I asked her if she thought that was too early in a relationship.
Her response floored me. "You never know unless you jump in with both feet." Confident, and I only could think 'from the mouths of babes......' and I think she's right. We talked more about that, well, she talked more about it. I learned quite a bit about someone's spirit. Like I stated before, I think she's right. Why half-ass something? I have no idea, but I see it everyday.
What does this mean?
This got me thinking about some of the things that have been happening around me in the last few days-The t-shirt purchase from a band known in Queens being shipped from Worcester, MA, the interview that never happened last Monday-where the guy never showed up and has yet to call me back to reschedule, to the guy from my alumni website who answered my request to talk about the role he has posted almost immediately (this does not happen, at least not to me), to the text messages from friends telling me they miss me, to my Mom telling me she misses me and 'how I handle things'. Signs? Fate? Someone from above talking to me? I have no idea, but I'm listening.
I've been in Denver for almost 13 years, and I've done a great many things. I've met awesome people, even made a few friends. Hell, got one of my best friends to move out here, and now he's married, bought a house and will be a proud Papa come November. I don't know if I have much else to do here. I think, at least right now, that I've grown personally as much as I can here. I miss my family. I miss the miserableness that is New England. Their bitterness is a trademark I can't quite speak of eloquently. We're a tried and true type people. People in Denver are laid back and polite, people from Minnesota are nice, people in California are even more laid back than here in Denver. I wear where I'm from like a badge of honor. Yet ask anyone, and they think I'm a walking contradiction. I'm a conservative, on quite a few issues. People think I'm liberal because I love hip hop and those seeking medical marijuana licenses. My most conservative value is 'leave me alone' and boot-strapping your life. I still believe it isn't how many times you can get knocked down, but if you're getting back up. Denver allowed me to get rid of some baggage. Some was left in Morrison, some in Golden, some in Boulder, and some at various places I've lived. I've let go of some things that won't ever come back.
The question is-where to now? What's the next chapter? Are you sure you're done with this one? How? What about work? It'll all get handled.
My 'Comedy'
there are some that think everything they say to me will get used in my comedy routine. First, please allow me to let you in on a little secret-I haven't done comedy since 10 days before my Pops passed away. I have talked about doing it, but at this point in time, I have no desire. I've done it, got some chuckles, know pretty much all the avenues it could take me. While I'm pretty happy with my life (I know, even while jobless), I don't know if that's an avenue I want to pursue. Sure, I still write stuff down if it hits me, but I don't see me on stage anytime soon.
Second, anything you say or do could be used. Just the nature of the beast. But I have creative license. I doubt I would use anything in a text message, like 99.7% sure it's not usable. You can't see facial expressions or tone thru a text message or email. And, this guy has the best joke about it. Sebastian, take it away:
Sebastian Maniscalco - "Email Protocol" - DVD in Stores Soon - The funniest home videos are here
Third, I will never-NEVER say something on stage that I wouldn't say to your face. If I think you're a nutjob and we didn't end so well as a dating option type thing, I will have told you flat out I think you're crazy. If I don't like the way your lazy stares at me, I will tell you. So, for some out there who think I would talk shit about them, well, I have a blog, where I'd say it, and I would tell you over the phone if we weren't in close proximity or to your face if we were.
Last, I usually don't hide from my feelings, because they are our own version of truth. Sometimes they get the best of us, but if you've got a good gut, you follow it. And whatever happens, happens. Some jokes are great, some are okay, and some are terrible. Just the way it goes, on stage and in life. The latest bit I'm working on is merit badges for dating. I can expound upon that at some other time.
Real quick, I want to take a note and tell Fakers fans to be careful what you wish for. That, and this idea of redemption is bunk. Teams change year over year, I don't care if the 'core' stays, each year is different. Oh, and those championships that George Mikan won in Minneapolis have nothing to do with Los Angeles, so stop tacking it on. Enough of that mess already.
I'm off for the night. Good night to all.
Reno, cont.
Well, this is more like Denver and the tarmac while waiting to takeoff. After the 5th or 6th announcement that this was a full flight, a very nice young lady sat in the middle seat, and she was WAY too dressed up for a plane. Granted, she wasn't wearing the customary 'Juicy' sweatpants, which is a nice touch. So I asked why she was so proper...she was going to meet her boyfriend's parents and family for the first time. She may have been 21, barely. But she seemed nervous (seriously, after getting patted down and my bag checked, I think this beard makes me look suspicious-whatever, I'm keeping it). I told her she looked presentable and would be fine, just impress his Mom. I don't make the rules. The only other question I had was how long they were dating-3 months. And they were planning their next vacation together later in the summer. Sorry, maybe I'm terrified and jaded at this whole dating process, so my face belied my surprise. I asked her if she thought that was too early in a relationship.
Her response floored me. "You never know unless you jump in with both feet." Confident, and I only could think 'from the mouths of babes......' and I think she's right. We talked more about that, well, she talked more about it. I learned quite a bit about someone's spirit. Like I stated before, I think she's right. Why half-ass something? I have no idea, but I see it everyday.
What does this mean?
This got me thinking about some of the things that have been happening around me in the last few days-The t-shirt purchase from a band known in Queens being shipped from Worcester, MA, the interview that never happened last Monday-where the guy never showed up and has yet to call me back to reschedule, to the guy from my alumni website who answered my request to talk about the role he has posted almost immediately (this does not happen, at least not to me), to the text messages from friends telling me they miss me, to my Mom telling me she misses me and 'how I handle things'. Signs? Fate? Someone from above talking to me? I have no idea, but I'm listening.
I've been in Denver for almost 13 years, and I've done a great many things. I've met awesome people, even made a few friends. Hell, got one of my best friends to move out here, and now he's married, bought a house and will be a proud Papa come November. I don't know if I have much else to do here. I think, at least right now, that I've grown personally as much as I can here. I miss my family. I miss the miserableness that is New England. Their bitterness is a trademark I can't quite speak of eloquently. We're a tried and true type people. People in Denver are laid back and polite, people from Minnesota are nice, people in California are even more laid back than here in Denver. I wear where I'm from like a badge of honor. Yet ask anyone, and they think I'm a walking contradiction. I'm a conservative, on quite a few issues. People think I'm liberal because I love hip hop and those seeking medical marijuana licenses. My most conservative value is 'leave me alone' and boot-strapping your life. I still believe it isn't how many times you can get knocked down, but if you're getting back up. Denver allowed me to get rid of some baggage. Some was left in Morrison, some in Golden, some in Boulder, and some at various places I've lived. I've let go of some things that won't ever come back.
The question is-where to now? What's the next chapter? Are you sure you're done with this one? How? What about work? It'll all get handled.
My 'Comedy'
there are some that think everything they say to me will get used in my comedy routine. First, please allow me to let you in on a little secret-I haven't done comedy since 10 days before my Pops passed away. I have talked about doing it, but at this point in time, I have no desire. I've done it, got some chuckles, know pretty much all the avenues it could take me. While I'm pretty happy with my life (I know, even while jobless), I don't know if that's an avenue I want to pursue. Sure, I still write stuff down if it hits me, but I don't see me on stage anytime soon.
Second, anything you say or do could be used. Just the nature of the beast. But I have creative license. I doubt I would use anything in a text message, like 99.7% sure it's not usable. You can't see facial expressions or tone thru a text message or email. And, this guy has the best joke about it. Sebastian, take it away:
Sebastian Maniscalco - "Email Protocol" - DVD in Stores Soon - The funniest home videos are here
Third, I will never-NEVER say something on stage that I wouldn't say to your face. If I think you're a nutjob and we didn't end so well as a dating option type thing, I will have told you flat out I think you're crazy. If I don't like the way your lazy stares at me, I will tell you. So, for some out there who think I would talk shit about them, well, I have a blog, where I'd say it, and I would tell you over the phone if we weren't in close proximity or to your face if we were.
Last, I usually don't hide from my feelings, because they are our own version of truth. Sometimes they get the best of us, but if you've got a good gut, you follow it. And whatever happens, happens. Some jokes are great, some are okay, and some are terrible. Just the way it goes, on stage and in life. The latest bit I'm working on is merit badges for dating. I can expound upon that at some other time.
Real quick, I want to take a note and tell Fakers fans to be careful what you wish for. That, and this idea of redemption is bunk. Teams change year over year, I don't care if the 'core' stays, each year is different. Oh, and those championships that George Mikan won in Minneapolis have nothing to do with Los Angeles, so stop tacking it on. Enough of that mess already.
I'm off for the night. Good night to all.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Last Day of Reno and cleanup of the sports section
As promised, the last day of Reno and some cleanup about sports, and maybe even something else on the end.
Day 5
Ah, the last day of my fantastical family vacation to Reno/Lake Tahoe. After waking up and looking at my little area, I realized I had some things to take care of. Dirty clothes needed to be packed, since I had overpacked for this trip-my Aunt's email to me a day before I left caused me the panic of a kid on his way to camp-so I had to check a bag. Well, on the bright side, I have started to pack my laptop bag more efficiently. Who knew I wouldn't read 4 books in 5 days? Well, after getting showered and dressed, it was time to break down the air mattress. Brilliant design, 5 minutes to fill the thing, and apparently a lifetime to deflate. It was a slow and painful thing. Oh well. Packed the bags, and then checked my departing Southwest ticket. Something seemed amiss.
Hmmmm, I am supposed to leave at 2:50, yet arrive in Denver. My Aunt swears it's like a 90 minute flight, tops. And the ticket only says Reno and Denver, no other city. Thank goodness for my trusty phone. Lucky me, I get to fly thru Phoenix....great, because that's on the way to Denver...wait, no it isn't! Whatever, it was a free plane ticket, so I will suck it up. Redemption comes in the form of my Aunt telling me that we will be stopping off at In-N-Out Burger (yippee, and I'm serious-good burger and a t-shirt, here I come!) before I go to the airport. SWEET! I love that place and the food is just damn good. I was greeted by the very polite woman behind the counter, got a Single Combo with cheese, and my t-shirt...and she gave me stickers. Fine, make fun of me, but if you can't get excited about the stupid things in life, don't bother.
The airport baggage check was made interesting by the guy being arrested right next to the Southwest gate. Apparently I missed him as I was talking to my Aunt, who (thankfully) pointed out the mess going on 'over there'. There he was, screaming nonsense with his shirt off and a pair of shorts...uh, ok. In all seriousness, this guy could have had a serious medical condition, and if that was the case, I do hope he was okay. I couldn't understand a word the guy was saying, and my immediate thought was he could be one of those people who decides that today is a good day to not take their meds (hello, Psycho Julie!). Either way, on to security. Reno Security is relatively quick to get thru, but I have this issue almost anywhere I go where getting into a line is a requirement-personal space. I think it's a cultural issue as well. The woman behind me (or rather, in my back pocket) was clearly from some Asian destination, I could tell by the outfit (Yes, another example of 'Explain Ya Outfit!') and the overall demeanor. My flight isn't going anywhere, and I'm rarely in a hurry. So I let her go in front of me.
Once I get to my gate, I want a snack. And there they were, Reese's pieces. And then my head wandered off into the land of Friendly's and the yummy sundaes I used to inhale sitting at a booth with my buddies before we could find any parties and drink. I'll give you the fact that the food usually sucks, but the ice cream is delicious. Yup, I'm getting a Reese's Pieces Sundae at some point in time when I'm back east.
It's high time we cross franchise this country. Burrito joints more than Chipotle need to be out east, I'm thinking Illegal Pete's (they mix up all the goodness, and their breakfast burritos are tasty), and I'm told more Jamba Juice's need to be on the east coast as well. Fine, I'll send those east and can someone please send me some Dunkin' damn Donuts and a Friendly's? Maybe a White Castle? Next up is Five Guys, then Moe's, Fatburger, Whataburger, a Tokyo Joe's, and of course, as discussed earlier, In-N-Out Burger. I'm sure I've missed a couple of things (damn, there's another one-Steak 'n Shake). Feel free to add yours. I'd have added Hayward's Ice Cream, but I think it's just the one in Nashua, NH....oh, and get me a Kelly's Roast Beef out here, now, damn it!
Before I got to board my plane, the more important thing happened to be getting off the plane. While I wasn't starstruck, I thought for a quick second (before I decided against it) of getting my picture with a twisted hero of mine, Dennis Hof. Who is he? He is the owner of the Moonlite Bunny Ranch (a whorehouse) and quite a TV personality, in case you've ever seen an episode of 'Cathouse' on HBO. He had a bunch of bimbos around him, loudly talking and barely wearing anything. I think it's safe to say Dennis travels, ahem, 'light'. Twisted hero? Simple, he has stated his business and relationship philosophy many times and people don't listen to him, and then he repeats it and it's still like a deer in headlights. Every time I've heard him speak, he appears honest, and he may be selling the last honest thing out there-sex. You should have seen the two rednecks who stopped him when he came out of the men's room to get a picture with him and the girls. I learned that these were the new girls for the upcoming season of Cathouse, from a distance, because Rednecks 1 & 2 decided to yell it out. Classier yet was the guy who asked for a picture as I was passing them to use the restroom yelling at his wife Linda to 'hurry up and take the damn picture, woman'....I can't write this shit!
On the plane I had the joy of sitting next to Dr. Bill, a nice man from Minnesota who I believe is a proud parent of a high school kid at Pomona (I think?) and his nephew graduated from ASU (I think). We shot the breeze about baseball, the Twins new stadium, my trip to the Mall of America almost 2 years ago, how I think damn near everyone from Minnesota is so damn nice, how he grew up a Packers fan and wanted to compare notes on Brett Fav-ruh and Roger Clemens. Until it all hit me at once. The combination of lack of sleep, 4 flights in 5 days, an air mattress, eating things that aren't normally on my diet (I love cheese, but I'm on day 2 of what is hopefully a 5 day cheese embargo), and being the point of entertainment for those days (it's tough being 'on' all the time) I almost got sick. This does not happen to me. Never on a plane. My head started pounding. Dr. Bill took notice and asked if I was okay-I told him it's a headache that just decided to unleash itself-which isn't a complete lie, I get these when certain circumstances arise. This one was the perfect storm. I rode it out, but not before Dr. Bill noting my paleness, and that maybe a coke would help. It did. Briefly.
When we landed all I wanted to do was go home, unpack, shower and go to bed. Nope, not in the cards. My roommate who while being kind enough to come get me, wanted to give me a minute by minute detail of all the things that happened since I left (I get it, it rained). Here comes the headache again. Well, after two (2!!!) unsuccessful trips to different pizza joints, I made it home. So long Reno, Stage 5, the National Anthem that rocked, the laughs, the overeating, and Dr. Bill.
Sports
The Bruins
I'll grant that those who think the Bruins choked (me included, kinda) have every right to be upset. But to those supposed 'fans' who threw things at the team on their way off the ice of Game 7-this ain't Philly, show some friggin manners. Since I couldn't watch the game, I just read the box score and it dawned on me. While others were wondering if they came out to play after the 1st period, I choose to look at it like 'Mike Tyson's Punch-Out!!'. Bear with me-remember when you got knocked down as 'Little Mac'? And you would have to hit the A & B buttons fast as hell to get you back on your feet? That's the Bruins this year. Answer me this-how often did they have the full roster? Don't worry, I'll wait. Yes, them losing 4 games in a row sucks. And seeing Philly roll Montreal in the first 2 games kinda stings, but I think Brian Boucher getting hurt for the Flyers hurt the Bruins more. I also think that the B's just simply ran out of gas. I have no idea if Wideman sucks, but I do know that this team was fun to watch at times, and would be a force if all were healthy. The B's couldn't shut the door. Not a crime. I'll wait until next year, look forward to the offseason to see if they make any moves (trade Tim Thomas, maybe?) and hope everyone comes back healthy. I just looked on a fantasy sports website I rely on, and Ference is having surgery, Chara is getting his hand looked at, Sturm just got out of surgery, Sobotka may need surgery, Lucic wasn't healthy all year, and Seidenberg didn't play a minute of any playoff game. Sure, it's a bit depressing, but they play the games for a reason. To the B's fans who didn't throw anything and cheered the team as they left the ice for the final time, next time you see another fan throwing stuff at the home team, point them out to a security guard with a Taser and watch the magic unfold.
The Celtics
It's almost time. I'm not calling the series against Orlando dead and over yet, but it's getting close. What cracks me up is the national media is shocked by this. I'm not! Didn't anyone watch the C's beat Orlando on Christmas Day without Kevin Garnett? It was the blueprint on how you beat Orlando-don't double Dwight Howard in the post, and keep track of the shooters. No doubling down on the block means no one should be open on the perimeter. And since Howard has no real post moves, he's pretty easy to cover, and Kendrick Perkins owns him. So far these two games have been a clinic on team defense, and a reminder in case you missed games 4-6 against Cleveland. Let's just say I like what this team is doing, and if you can win a game 2 on the road when Ray Allen only scores 4 points, it's about to get interesting Saturday night.
The Sox
I love my boys in Red, but this team is getting close to being torn apart. Please, remember the injuries. Ask a Yankees fan. The Sox have been without Ellsbury and Cameron for how long? I loved the Hermida signing by the Red Sox, and it paid off huge last night (why was Randy Winn playing so shallow?). The Yankees are in the same boat, without Granderson, Swisher and now Posada will be out for 3-4 weeks. I'm not saying to implode this Sox team yet, but it's getting dangerously close. And I swear, please, for the love of all things Cooperstown, can the Sox please draft a SS and leave it well enough alone? Scutaro is a nice guy, but I swear the revolving door of free agent dookie is getting to me. Fine, I'll say it again-shoulda kept the OC, Orlando Cabrera. That guy makes the playoffs every year, and look how Cincinnati is doing this year. I'm just sayin'.
I'll have more tomorrow (today?), but I'm beat and I gots to go to bed.
Day 5
Ah, the last day of my fantastical family vacation to Reno/Lake Tahoe. After waking up and looking at my little area, I realized I had some things to take care of. Dirty clothes needed to be packed, since I had overpacked for this trip-my Aunt's email to me a day before I left caused me the panic of a kid on his way to camp-so I had to check a bag. Well, on the bright side, I have started to pack my laptop bag more efficiently. Who knew I wouldn't read 4 books in 5 days? Well, after getting showered and dressed, it was time to break down the air mattress. Brilliant design, 5 minutes to fill the thing, and apparently a lifetime to deflate. It was a slow and painful thing. Oh well. Packed the bags, and then checked my departing Southwest ticket. Something seemed amiss.
Hmmmm, I am supposed to leave at 2:50, yet arrive in Denver. My Aunt swears it's like a 90 minute flight, tops. And the ticket only says Reno and Denver, no other city. Thank goodness for my trusty phone. Lucky me, I get to fly thru Phoenix....great, because that's on the way to Denver...wait, no it isn't! Whatever, it was a free plane ticket, so I will suck it up. Redemption comes in the form of my Aunt telling me that we will be stopping off at In-N-Out Burger (yippee, and I'm serious-good burger and a t-shirt, here I come!) before I go to the airport. SWEET! I love that place and the food is just damn good. I was greeted by the very polite woman behind the counter, got a Single Combo with cheese, and my t-shirt...and she gave me stickers. Fine, make fun of me, but if you can't get excited about the stupid things in life, don't bother.
The airport baggage check was made interesting by the guy being arrested right next to the Southwest gate. Apparently I missed him as I was talking to my Aunt, who (thankfully) pointed out the mess going on 'over there'. There he was, screaming nonsense with his shirt off and a pair of shorts...uh, ok. In all seriousness, this guy could have had a serious medical condition, and if that was the case, I do hope he was okay. I couldn't understand a word the guy was saying, and my immediate thought was he could be one of those people who decides that today is a good day to not take their meds (hello, Psycho Julie!). Either way, on to security. Reno Security is relatively quick to get thru, but I have this issue almost anywhere I go where getting into a line is a requirement-personal space. I think it's a cultural issue as well. The woman behind me (or rather, in my back pocket) was clearly from some Asian destination, I could tell by the outfit (Yes, another example of 'Explain Ya Outfit!') and the overall demeanor. My flight isn't going anywhere, and I'm rarely in a hurry. So I let her go in front of me.
Once I get to my gate, I want a snack. And there they were, Reese's pieces. And then my head wandered off into the land of Friendly's and the yummy sundaes I used to inhale sitting at a booth with my buddies before we could find any parties and drink. I'll give you the fact that the food usually sucks, but the ice cream is delicious. Yup, I'm getting a Reese's Pieces Sundae at some point in time when I'm back east.
It's high time we cross franchise this country. Burrito joints more than Chipotle need to be out east, I'm thinking Illegal Pete's (they mix up all the goodness, and their breakfast burritos are tasty), and I'm told more Jamba Juice's need to be on the east coast as well. Fine, I'll send those east and can someone please send me some Dunkin' damn Donuts and a Friendly's? Maybe a White Castle? Next up is Five Guys, then Moe's, Fatburger, Whataburger, a Tokyo Joe's, and of course, as discussed earlier, In-N-Out Burger. I'm sure I've missed a couple of things (damn, there's another one-Steak 'n Shake). Feel free to add yours. I'd have added Hayward's Ice Cream, but I think it's just the one in Nashua, NH....oh, and get me a Kelly's Roast Beef out here, now, damn it!
Before I got to board my plane, the more important thing happened to be getting off the plane. While I wasn't starstruck, I thought for a quick second (before I decided against it) of getting my picture with a twisted hero of mine, Dennis Hof. Who is he? He is the owner of the Moonlite Bunny Ranch (a whorehouse) and quite a TV personality, in case you've ever seen an episode of 'Cathouse' on HBO. He had a bunch of bimbos around him, loudly talking and barely wearing anything. I think it's safe to say Dennis travels, ahem, 'light'. Twisted hero? Simple, he has stated his business and relationship philosophy many times and people don't listen to him, and then he repeats it and it's still like a deer in headlights. Every time I've heard him speak, he appears honest, and he may be selling the last honest thing out there-sex. You should have seen the two rednecks who stopped him when he came out of the men's room to get a picture with him and the girls. I learned that these were the new girls for the upcoming season of Cathouse, from a distance, because Rednecks 1 & 2 decided to yell it out. Classier yet was the guy who asked for a picture as I was passing them to use the restroom yelling at his wife Linda to 'hurry up and take the damn picture, woman'....I can't write this shit!
On the plane I had the joy of sitting next to Dr. Bill, a nice man from Minnesota who I believe is a proud parent of a high school kid at Pomona (I think?) and his nephew graduated from ASU (I think). We shot the breeze about baseball, the Twins new stadium, my trip to the Mall of America almost 2 years ago, how I think damn near everyone from Minnesota is so damn nice, how he grew up a Packers fan and wanted to compare notes on Brett Fav-ruh and Roger Clemens. Until it all hit me at once. The combination of lack of sleep, 4 flights in 5 days, an air mattress, eating things that aren't normally on my diet (I love cheese, but I'm on day 2 of what is hopefully a 5 day cheese embargo), and being the point of entertainment for those days (it's tough being 'on' all the time) I almost got sick. This does not happen to me. Never on a plane. My head started pounding. Dr. Bill took notice and asked if I was okay-I told him it's a headache that just decided to unleash itself-which isn't a complete lie, I get these when certain circumstances arise. This one was the perfect storm. I rode it out, but not before Dr. Bill noting my paleness, and that maybe a coke would help. It did. Briefly.
When we landed all I wanted to do was go home, unpack, shower and go to bed. Nope, not in the cards. My roommate who while being kind enough to come get me, wanted to give me a minute by minute detail of all the things that happened since I left (I get it, it rained). Here comes the headache again. Well, after two (2!!!) unsuccessful trips to different pizza joints, I made it home. So long Reno, Stage 5, the National Anthem that rocked, the laughs, the overeating, and Dr. Bill.
Sports
The Bruins
I'll grant that those who think the Bruins choked (me included, kinda) have every right to be upset. But to those supposed 'fans' who threw things at the team on their way off the ice of Game 7-this ain't Philly, show some friggin manners. Since I couldn't watch the game, I just read the box score and it dawned on me. While others were wondering if they came out to play after the 1st period, I choose to look at it like 'Mike Tyson's Punch-Out!!'. Bear with me-remember when you got knocked down as 'Little Mac'? And you would have to hit the A & B buttons fast as hell to get you back on your feet? That's the Bruins this year. Answer me this-how often did they have the full roster? Don't worry, I'll wait. Yes, them losing 4 games in a row sucks. And seeing Philly roll Montreal in the first 2 games kinda stings, but I think Brian Boucher getting hurt for the Flyers hurt the Bruins more. I also think that the B's just simply ran out of gas. I have no idea if Wideman sucks, but I do know that this team was fun to watch at times, and would be a force if all were healthy. The B's couldn't shut the door. Not a crime. I'll wait until next year, look forward to the offseason to see if they make any moves (trade Tim Thomas, maybe?) and hope everyone comes back healthy. I just looked on a fantasy sports website I rely on, and Ference is having surgery, Chara is getting his hand looked at, Sturm just got out of surgery, Sobotka may need surgery, Lucic wasn't healthy all year, and Seidenberg didn't play a minute of any playoff game. Sure, it's a bit depressing, but they play the games for a reason. To the B's fans who didn't throw anything and cheered the team as they left the ice for the final time, next time you see another fan throwing stuff at the home team, point them out to a security guard with a Taser and watch the magic unfold.
The Celtics
It's almost time. I'm not calling the series against Orlando dead and over yet, but it's getting close. What cracks me up is the national media is shocked by this. I'm not! Didn't anyone watch the C's beat Orlando on Christmas Day without Kevin Garnett? It was the blueprint on how you beat Orlando-don't double Dwight Howard in the post, and keep track of the shooters. No doubling down on the block means no one should be open on the perimeter. And since Howard has no real post moves, he's pretty easy to cover, and Kendrick Perkins owns him. So far these two games have been a clinic on team defense, and a reminder in case you missed games 4-6 against Cleveland. Let's just say I like what this team is doing, and if you can win a game 2 on the road when Ray Allen only scores 4 points, it's about to get interesting Saturday night.
The Sox
I love my boys in Red, but this team is getting close to being torn apart. Please, remember the injuries. Ask a Yankees fan. The Sox have been without Ellsbury and Cameron for how long? I loved the Hermida signing by the Red Sox, and it paid off huge last night (why was Randy Winn playing so shallow?). The Yankees are in the same boat, without Granderson, Swisher and now Posada will be out for 3-4 weeks. I'm not saying to implode this Sox team yet, but it's getting dangerously close. And I swear, please, for the love of all things Cooperstown, can the Sox please draft a SS and leave it well enough alone? Scutaro is a nice guy, but I swear the revolving door of free agent dookie is getting to me. Fine, I'll say it again-shoulda kept the OC, Orlando Cabrera. That guy makes the playoffs every year, and look how Cincinnati is doing this year. I'm just sayin'.
I'll have more tomorrow (today?), but I'm beat and I gots to go to bed.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
So much to catch up on, RENO days 1-4
Ok, since I haven't really typed up anything since my first night in Reno, time to catch everyone on the rest of the trip, and some postscript about that first day/night. Here goes:
Day 1
I already mentioned the strip club, but I need to give a little back story. My Aunt doesn't like the kid's girlfriend. Ever have someone tell you they don't like someone else, then you meet that someone else, and you can't figure out what the first person doesn't like about that someone else? But because you trust that first person's opinion, you are supposed to not like that someone else, too? (I know, welcome to Junior freakin' High). I realize that for probably every mom out there, no one will be good enough for her son. Likewise for fathers and daughters. I'm not here to question the way that rule seems to go, as there are numerous exceptions, but I have been in a few living rooms, and I can easily impress anyone's Mother-I eat everything on my plate, even Tofu Surprise. All I ever had to do was eat and say it tasted good, I was all good with the Moms of the world. Dads on the other hand, well, they've been a guy before, courting a woman, so they know what this whole show is about. Most are probably wondering if they needed to show me their enormous gun collection (one did, hilarious on the inside, acted terrified on the outside-I had my own parents to contend with at the time).
So I met the kid's girlfriend, and I could only come up with one word-"mousey". Can't really describe her. She seemed nice, could hold a conversation, polite--I could not for the life of me figured out why my Aunt has this woman painted as the Life Sucking Vampire she was portrayed once I landed at the lovely Reno/Tahoe airport.
Then the strip club happened, and I started to see some things. Look, a woman getting a lap dance, I've seen this show, doesn't do a whole bunch for me. But again, the girlfriend seemed perfectly fine to talk to. I learned she has two jobs, a bank teller and an apprentice piercer at a tattoo shop. Interesting as well, because when I met her earlier in the afternoon her piercings were 'hidden'. Once at the boobiebar, however, was this horseshoe sticking out of her nose. Not so that she looked like a bull, but the other way, with the middle of the horseshoe going thru her nose. Not really that attractive. I don't care about a pierced tongue. The multiple earrings, doesn't bother me a bit, either. The piercing in the back of her neck, well now that just seems odd. I didn't see the others, but was told their was a nipple piercing and 3 piercings in her ribcage. Uh, okay. She noticed the holes in my ears and wondered if I had them just taken out. Sorry, it's been about 6 or 7 years. At least.
Now, before I go any further, I didn't realize something until Day 4. I thought the girlfriend was perfectly nice, but she seemed a little off, but couldn't peg it right away, which we all like to think we're good at.
Hanging out at a casino and then a strip club with 3 21 year olds, a 26 year old and myself was fun, but I've done this before. A stripper trying to get money out of me isn't new either (well, not new in the sense that that's what they do, I haven't been to a strip club in couple of years, I don't get the point-some woman is going to get half-naked in front me and I can do nothing about it, gee sign me up).
I was dropped off a little after 2 AM and by the time I washed my face (gotta get 'the plane' off you) and brushed my teeth, the last time I saw before my head hit my air mattress was 2:28.
Day 2
Day 2 kicked off with a workout by Manny Pacquiao hitting the speedbag. Oh, I'm sorry, it was a freaking cat hitting someone's bedroom door to get out. She was staying in Gramma's room but the litter was in a different room...genious!!! So I was up at 5:30. Coffee was brewed since there are those that are up at 4:30. Why? Because they're old!!! I swear, after this 4 day adventure I'm putting 'Conflict Resolution Manager' on my resume. There should have been a dead cat, because the speedbag thing happened like 4 times, so every time I was falling back into a nice sleep a rapid fire of cat punches to the door would blast out. Fantastic.
I grabbed a cup of coffee and made a minor announcement that we either sign the cat up for a boxing match or fry it for dinner, ChinaTown-style.
Anyway, we had to head out the door for the kid's award ceremony. No, not the graduation. He was receiving an award for being a 'Who's Who' (didn't that crap start when you were a senior in high school and go away?). Awards were handed out to numerous people, I think I was up for a 'Reach for the Stars' literary achievement potted plant award, but I had to step outside and get air. There is nothing more annoying to me than Liberal Arts, I look at that as a 4 year class on reading someone else's thoughts. How do you judge originality? I have no idea, but if you could make a mean clay pot, you were getting an award. The beginning 90% of this ceremony was decent, but then the Outdoor Activities professor laureate went on some diatribe, and the kid showed up late (but in time to get his award, which he thought was lame), and the only saving grace was that the kid wreaked of whiskey and stripper, to which I whispered to him "I can't tell if you smell like Cinnamon or Autumn". He asked me if I thought he was wearing cologne or had cooked breakfast, to which I shot him a look and mouthed 'Stripper, dummy'. His eyes got all big, and I told him not to worry about it, with all the old people there the chance of his smell overpowering any doting grandmother in the audience's cheapass $4/gallon Walgreen's perfume was minimal at best.
This would also be the time to announce a new game to play when you're out and about, website to be built by the kid and run by myself and another friend. The game, dear reader, is called 'Explain Ya Outfit'. You know exactly who I'm talking about. Things that don't fit, don't fit a body style, are so out of bounds they are past bordering on ridiculous looking. The kid sitting in front of me, wore a grey cardigan, pink shirt, pink and blue shorts, black socks and black shoes. Seriously, Explain Ya Outfit. I will make sure to give the history of this game at another time.
I wanted to watch the damn Bruins game, was ushered into a room without a cable box (everyone else was congregated in the living room with the HDTV, not on, but reading...go to the fucking library, people-I have a game 7 to watch!), and proceeded to figure out how much time was appropriate to wait before I got out of that room and back into the living room. At least I had my cell phone to relay that it was 3-0 B's. Once I got out of that room, I was overruled. No TV was getting watched. It felt like a damn monastery. Not my house, and I deferred to the eldest statesman, Stan, Gramma's 'Companion', who's from Canada-no dice. WTF??? I thought if there was a hockey game on a Canucker was watching that thing like an Irishman to booze, a skank to a celebrity, Michael Jackson to a sick boy-you get the point. No hockey. Putting a frown face in this blog right now wouldn't do how sad I was....because the phone told me it was 3-1...then 3-2...then tied (did the Bruins come out to play in the 2nd period?-things that only watching the damn game would've let me know, but no, I had to be in the retirement home library. FML was the only thing going thru my head.) At least I had my buddy Jay updating me during the 3rd period, thank God for text messaging. And then I got the text that made me not-so-happy:
"Philly pp goal on a too many on ice penalty. 708 left in 3rd."
They can do this.
No they can't....dammit! Screw it, I'm keeping the beard!!!!!
Not much else happened on Day 2 (at least that I can remember), other than dinner was interesting, I helped in the kitchen, I made people laugh (try not to be surprised).
Day 3
Graduation Day. Time to coordinate 10 people into 2 showers and then 2 cars for a 30 minute drive to get breakfast and a good parking space and good seats (hell, just seats). I'm up at 5:45 and get told that including me there are 3 more showers to go, and I can go last if I want (YES Please!). I like going last because it means I know it's on me. I hate waiting. Once I'm showered it's time to go. I swear I'm so much like my Pops sometimes it's scary. This would be one of those scary times. Well, once I'm ready to go, we're out the door. And off to the Hyatt in Incline Village, NV...rooms starting at $350/night, hooker not included. That's not even a top floor room with a view of Lake Tahoe. So breakfast was damn impressive.
The underlying theme to this whole trip was watching my Uncle try and organize things while my Aunt was either out of the house, in the bathroom, in the kitchen or in the shower. He should've quit while he was ahead, every time. He's not The General, as we affectionately call my Aunt, he's merely a Colonel-at best. Every time he tried to do something, it was the opposite of how The General had laid out the plans. High Comedy, plus high stress for almost everyone else. Not me. I told my Aunt, just point and tell me what to do, I'm doing it. And they say I don't take direction well.
A little surprise was in store, as I found out between the hotel and the campus (all 4 buildings of it) that the kid was singing the National Anthem. Cool! And yet you have no idea how cool it is until you see it.
We showed up a mere 75 minutes before graduation to gather 12-15 seats, which were lovely white chairs zip-tied together (who is stealing these things?) but also built for those of a tiny variety-for me I think immediately of the seats at Fenway Park, and how much I appreciate standing. Well, the girlfriend showed up. She decided it would be best to sit next to me, but I was in no mood to sit, since I wasn't going to be in the aisle and we had plenty of time before the festivities kicked off. She brushed against my arms a couple of times (this is important later, I swear), and then her Mom showed up. Quite a lovely woman. Well the ceremony was about to kick off, we get told to take our seats, the girlfriend asks me to pick up the program on her chair and she sat on my hand...or, she almost sat on my hand. When you realize that someone is about to put their ass on your hand, you move your hand. Damn woman looked at me like I was trying to steal dessert. Not even close. She laughed (again, this is important later), and wondered if my head was going to be okay. Head? Crap, this thing is outdoors, and while I'm in the shade of a tree at this moment, I know in 10 minutes my head is going to burn. I neglected to bring a hat. Well, the procession is starting, I can't just interrupt them for my stupidity. I'll just wait until there is a break in the action.
Time for the Anthem. I have to admit, every time I hear the Anthem, and I mean hear it, like stand at attention and listen to the words and comprehend them, I get a little choked up. Now add to it that someone who is little brother to me is up there on stage belting it out in front of 300+ people and owning it like he wrote the jingle himself, I can only tell you that I am one very proud big brother. The kid got a standing ovation!
Other people, board members or whomever, get announced. And after 20 minutes of this, my noggin is on fire. I realized I'm about 30 minutes away from a serious burn, not the type that will look pretty, but the kind that will have people asking me if I was in some type of kitchen accident. Eureka, we're all asked to stand and applaud the board members, I make a line to the back where I can stand and be in the shade. I found the kid's friend from Denver who drove up for this shindig. And since he's about as dry a wit as I am, it was a good time. The first thing we talked about was the wasting of $120K of someone's money on a Liberal Arts degree. Sorry, but couldn't you go to a state college to major in English Lit? Mind you, I say this as someone who barely graduated in his major, but did graduate with an Accounting degree. Yes, I coulda been a CPA, but it's not something I wanted. Now, after hearing a short and concise valedictorian speech and the guest speaker (the COO of Netflix, pretty cool), I figured out my theme for this weekend and probably going forward. You have to be willing to make mistakes and pick yourself up if you do. Otherwise you can learn nothing about yourself. Living in a bubble is boring as hell. I think I've done okay at this, but listening to what some of these kids are going to do, some will, and some are going for broke. Some are 'exploring career opportunities'. There were only like 50 graduates. Not exactly a huge college. But to get the COO of Netflix, someone either has to know him, pay him a huge fee, or this school has something going for it.
The funniest things the kid's friend and I heard were the Masters in Teaching thesis'. And the one that sticks out is (I'm paraphrasing) "Measuring success in sexual education in middle school curriculum". I looked at the friend and mentioned that there is no way this woman either hasn't blown an 8th grade class or soon will be on the news. And believe me, if you saw her, you'd think the same thing, too.
So many 'Explain Ya Outfit' candidates at this event that I got 4 other people to play the game, too. Look at me, helping people mock others in another state, some of those with questionable taste in fashion were from other countries..does this make me an International Asshole?
After graduation was over, pictures are taken and we get back to the house in Reno, it's time to relax. Then the kid and the girlfriend and his two buddies show up at the house, time to have some amusement and swap stories. I don't get revved up until later in the afternoon. A champagne toast by the proud parents, some cards get opened, and then I spot a note about the girlfriend. She is most definitely trying to plant a wedge between mother and son. This has the potential to get ugly, but it doesn't. But my Aunt and I caught eyes. Eyes that 24 years of knowing someone screams out certain things. My Aunt is a proud woman, very courteous, and a hell of a host. And then you notice that everywhere the kid goes, the girlfriend goes. And she hangs on him. Like a Vulture. I nicknamed her 'Stage 5'. She pinched me twice (again, wait for it, it's coming). I got my arm touched, "Do you work out?"-Now I admit I wasn't thinking anything about this stuff, not until Day 4.
The other thing I noticed was that while all of us, sans the girlfriend, had to either drive or fly to this celebration, no one got any real alone time with the kid. I knew this was a definite possibility, but only because he's got family, his Gramma is 82, his parents love him very much, and his two best friends drove up together from Denver. At dinner I gave him my piece of advice, advice or words of wisdom that I wished someone had bestowed upon me-"Do what you love, the money will come". I believe that. But back to the girlfriend, it seems that she occupied the kid's time far more than she should have, that no one, other than Gramma got a minute with the kid. I found this odd. My feelings weren't hurt, but only because I had prepped myself with the idea that this was probably going to happen.
Day 4
Since we didn't have to be up and out the door, it was all about getting a few more zzz's and relaxing. Until dinner time. The kid and the girlfriend along with the two friends showed up for dinner, the girlfriend still in her tattoo job work shirt. It's a half hour drive, couldn't you change your shirt in the car in that time? I told her 'cool design' and she immediately wants my address to send me a shirt. Quite enthusiastic, I thought to myself. "Maybe later, not that big of a deal."
She told me she didn't mind, with a guy with my 'look' it could be great advertising. In Denver? Okie-Dokie. I'm sitting on a bench out on the back patio, big enough for 3 people to cram in, definitely comfortable to for 2. The girlfriend sat nexttome. Yes, that close. Look, if it were me and my girlfriend, I would have no issue with hips touching, might even consider it endearing. But this is NOT my girlfriend, it's the girlfriend of my 'little brother'. I moved a bit to the side to give her some room. She moved with me. Something is starting to formulate in my granite-filled head. But not yet.
Time to get drinks for dinner. I get up to help (you're damn right I jumped at the opportunity) and after I drop the first wave of drinks to the unseated table, the girlfriend is in front of me. She pokes my belly. "What are you doing?", I asked. She tells me I just look so cute and thought it would be fun to poke me. No one pokes me. Seriously, I have girls whom I've known forever, no romantic under- or over- tones and they don't poke me. Let alone my belly. I'm pretty sure this is straight out of 'Flirting 101', which is why I again asked, "What are you doing?", but softly, because I don't need to cause a scene with 12 other people around us. And this, quite frankly, is fucked up. Again, things are formulating in my head (yes, wicked slow on the uptake).
Dinner is good, I toasted my Aunt the host for feeding us, entertaining us, and having us into this house that isn't hers and making it feel like a home to all of us who came to visit (yup, I'm bragging about myself), because it's the right thing to do.
After dinner, the two friends headed back to the road to Denver, while Gramma and her 'Companion' Stan retired to the living room with the TV. I headed to other living room, where my stuff and where I sleep on an air mattress to just catch my breath. Hey, making people laugh with different stories for 4 days is tiring. Well, the kid, the girlfriend, and one of my Aunt's friends and her 11 year old son followed me...apparently story time wasn't over. Being exhausted, I fell back to the ol' tried and true, my dating stories, and the horror that comes with being single and 34. Not once, by the way, did I mention a certain someone, mostly because trying to explain that to this crowd might entice me to run into oncoming traffic. The layout of the room is as such-couch, two chairs, a step down into the room, and of course, the air mattress. Honestly, one or 2 days on that thing isn't horrible, but by night 4, my back was not happy with me. The 11 yr old took a seat on the couch, his Mom on one chair. I sit on the step ledge, and the kid follows me in sitting there. Now, having laid this whole room out for you, where do you think the girlfriend sat? No, not on the chair. She decided to lay herself on my air mattress, and all the tumblers went into place----this broad is beyond flirting with me!
I couldn't tell you what else I rambled on about. All that went thru my head was if I was nuts in thinking all these things adding up, going thru the memory bank to see if there was something I missed, or maybe I'm just paranoid, or maybe I misconstrued one of those touches, pokes or pinches.
Nope. Because after the kid and the girlfriend left (with the 2 seconds too long hug by the girlfriend) I waited until Gramma and everyone else went to bed, except my Aunt, her friend and the 11 yr old. I told my Aunt that I think I know why you don't like her, and I have my own reason.
"Why?"
From the mouth of the 11 yr old, who has said maybe 14 words the whole time he's been in the house, and I quote "Because she's a slut. Sorry, Mom, I know I'm not supposed to say that stuff." This is from an 11 yr old kid with diagnosed ADD and dyslexia. If he figured it out, I'm pretty sure he's on point.
I told my Aunt about all the stuff, and her friend backed me up, stating that the girlfriend was very seductive, very Michell Pfieffer in 'The Fabulous Baker Boys' (whatever the hell that is) when she laid herself down on my air mattress. Yes, collaborating witnesses.
And then I had to break the bad news to my Aunt. She can't say a damn thing. Neither can anyone else. Why? Because if my Aunt said anything to the kid, he wouldn't believe it, he would hate me, hate his mother for telling him this stuff, and alienate himself from this family, and push more towards hanging out with the girlfriend, who is a controlling manipulative vulture. She is definitely using sex as a weapon. I also told my aunt to go back to when I first moved out to Denver, my first girlfriend, how her, my uncle and my parents couldn't stand her, for one simple reason. I wasn't me, I was the whipped half-man half Eddie Bauer catalog that she tried to fit me into. But they never said anything until she dumped me, because it was the right play. The same is true now. My Aunt apologized for the behavior of the girlfriend, because that's her way. I told her not to, I was flattered and appalled, all at the same time. And that this relationship will run its natural course, I'm making book that it ends before the end of summer, when the kid gets a job in the Bay Area or LA. Just my gut, which after being poked, is still pretty good.
Day 5 and sports in the AM!!
Day 1
I already mentioned the strip club, but I need to give a little back story. My Aunt doesn't like the kid's girlfriend. Ever have someone tell you they don't like someone else, then you meet that someone else, and you can't figure out what the first person doesn't like about that someone else? But because you trust that first person's opinion, you are supposed to not like that someone else, too? (I know, welcome to Junior freakin' High). I realize that for probably every mom out there, no one will be good enough for her son. Likewise for fathers and daughters. I'm not here to question the way that rule seems to go, as there are numerous exceptions, but I have been in a few living rooms, and I can easily impress anyone's Mother-I eat everything on my plate, even Tofu Surprise. All I ever had to do was eat and say it tasted good, I was all good with the Moms of the world. Dads on the other hand, well, they've been a guy before, courting a woman, so they know what this whole show is about. Most are probably wondering if they needed to show me their enormous gun collection (one did, hilarious on the inside, acted terrified on the outside-I had my own parents to contend with at the time).
So I met the kid's girlfriend, and I could only come up with one word-"mousey". Can't really describe her. She seemed nice, could hold a conversation, polite--I could not for the life of me figured out why my Aunt has this woman painted as the Life Sucking Vampire she was portrayed once I landed at the lovely Reno/Tahoe airport.
Then the strip club happened, and I started to see some things. Look, a woman getting a lap dance, I've seen this show, doesn't do a whole bunch for me. But again, the girlfriend seemed perfectly fine to talk to. I learned she has two jobs, a bank teller and an apprentice piercer at a tattoo shop. Interesting as well, because when I met her earlier in the afternoon her piercings were 'hidden'. Once at the boobiebar, however, was this horseshoe sticking out of her nose. Not so that she looked like a bull, but the other way, with the middle of the horseshoe going thru her nose. Not really that attractive. I don't care about a pierced tongue. The multiple earrings, doesn't bother me a bit, either. The piercing in the back of her neck, well now that just seems odd. I didn't see the others, but was told their was a nipple piercing and 3 piercings in her ribcage. Uh, okay. She noticed the holes in my ears and wondered if I had them just taken out. Sorry, it's been about 6 or 7 years. At least.
Now, before I go any further, I didn't realize something until Day 4. I thought the girlfriend was perfectly nice, but she seemed a little off, but couldn't peg it right away, which we all like to think we're good at.
Hanging out at a casino and then a strip club with 3 21 year olds, a 26 year old and myself was fun, but I've done this before. A stripper trying to get money out of me isn't new either (well, not new in the sense that that's what they do, I haven't been to a strip club in couple of years, I don't get the point-some woman is going to get half-naked in front me and I can do nothing about it, gee sign me up).
I was dropped off a little after 2 AM and by the time I washed my face (gotta get 'the plane' off you) and brushed my teeth, the last time I saw before my head hit my air mattress was 2:28.
Day 2
Day 2 kicked off with a workout by Manny Pacquiao hitting the speedbag. Oh, I'm sorry, it was a freaking cat hitting someone's bedroom door to get out. She was staying in Gramma's room but the litter was in a different room...genious!!! So I was up at 5:30. Coffee was brewed since there are those that are up at 4:30. Why? Because they're old!!! I swear, after this 4 day adventure I'm putting 'Conflict Resolution Manager' on my resume. There should have been a dead cat, because the speedbag thing happened like 4 times, so every time I was falling back into a nice sleep a rapid fire of cat punches to the door would blast out. Fantastic.
I grabbed a cup of coffee and made a minor announcement that we either sign the cat up for a boxing match or fry it for dinner, ChinaTown-style.
Anyway, we had to head out the door for the kid's award ceremony. No, not the graduation. He was receiving an award for being a 'Who's Who' (didn't that crap start when you were a senior in high school and go away?). Awards were handed out to numerous people, I think I was up for a 'Reach for the Stars' literary achievement potted plant award, but I had to step outside and get air. There is nothing more annoying to me than Liberal Arts, I look at that as a 4 year class on reading someone else's thoughts. How do you judge originality? I have no idea, but if you could make a mean clay pot, you were getting an award. The beginning 90% of this ceremony was decent, but then the Outdoor Activities professor laureate went on some diatribe, and the kid showed up late (but in time to get his award, which he thought was lame), and the only saving grace was that the kid wreaked of whiskey and stripper, to which I whispered to him "I can't tell if you smell like Cinnamon or Autumn". He asked me if I thought he was wearing cologne or had cooked breakfast, to which I shot him a look and mouthed 'Stripper, dummy'. His eyes got all big, and I told him not to worry about it, with all the old people there the chance of his smell overpowering any doting grandmother in the audience's cheapass $4/gallon Walgreen's perfume was minimal at best.
This would also be the time to announce a new game to play when you're out and about, website to be built by the kid and run by myself and another friend. The game, dear reader, is called 'Explain Ya Outfit'. You know exactly who I'm talking about. Things that don't fit, don't fit a body style, are so out of bounds they are past bordering on ridiculous looking. The kid sitting in front of me, wore a grey cardigan, pink shirt, pink and blue shorts, black socks and black shoes. Seriously, Explain Ya Outfit. I will make sure to give the history of this game at another time.
I wanted to watch the damn Bruins game, was ushered into a room without a cable box (everyone else was congregated in the living room with the HDTV, not on, but reading...go to the fucking library, people-I have a game 7 to watch!), and proceeded to figure out how much time was appropriate to wait before I got out of that room and back into the living room. At least I had my cell phone to relay that it was 3-0 B's. Once I got out of that room, I was overruled. No TV was getting watched. It felt like a damn monastery. Not my house, and I deferred to the eldest statesman, Stan, Gramma's 'Companion', who's from Canada-no dice. WTF??? I thought if there was a hockey game on a Canucker was watching that thing like an Irishman to booze, a skank to a celebrity, Michael Jackson to a sick boy-you get the point. No hockey. Putting a frown face in this blog right now wouldn't do how sad I was....because the phone told me it was 3-1...then 3-2...then tied (did the Bruins come out to play in the 2nd period?-things that only watching the damn game would've let me know, but no, I had to be in the retirement home library. FML was the only thing going thru my head.) At least I had my buddy Jay updating me during the 3rd period, thank God for text messaging. And then I got the text that made me not-so-happy:
"Philly pp goal on a too many on ice penalty. 708 left in 3rd."
They can do this.
No they can't....dammit! Screw it, I'm keeping the beard!!!!!
Not much else happened on Day 2 (at least that I can remember), other than dinner was interesting, I helped in the kitchen, I made people laugh (try not to be surprised).
Day 3
Graduation Day. Time to coordinate 10 people into 2 showers and then 2 cars for a 30 minute drive to get breakfast and a good parking space and good seats (hell, just seats). I'm up at 5:45 and get told that including me there are 3 more showers to go, and I can go last if I want (YES Please!). I like going last because it means I know it's on me. I hate waiting. Once I'm showered it's time to go. I swear I'm so much like my Pops sometimes it's scary. This would be one of those scary times. Well, once I'm ready to go, we're out the door. And off to the Hyatt in Incline Village, NV...rooms starting at $350/night, hooker not included. That's not even a top floor room with a view of Lake Tahoe. So breakfast was damn impressive.
The underlying theme to this whole trip was watching my Uncle try and organize things while my Aunt was either out of the house, in the bathroom, in the kitchen or in the shower. He should've quit while he was ahead, every time. He's not The General, as we affectionately call my Aunt, he's merely a Colonel-at best. Every time he tried to do something, it was the opposite of how The General had laid out the plans. High Comedy, plus high stress for almost everyone else. Not me. I told my Aunt, just point and tell me what to do, I'm doing it. And they say I don't take direction well.
A little surprise was in store, as I found out between the hotel and the campus (all 4 buildings of it) that the kid was singing the National Anthem. Cool! And yet you have no idea how cool it is until you see it.
We showed up a mere 75 minutes before graduation to gather 12-15 seats, which were lovely white chairs zip-tied together (who is stealing these things?) but also built for those of a tiny variety-for me I think immediately of the seats at Fenway Park, and how much I appreciate standing. Well, the girlfriend showed up. She decided it would be best to sit next to me, but I was in no mood to sit, since I wasn't going to be in the aisle and we had plenty of time before the festivities kicked off. She brushed against my arms a couple of times (this is important later, I swear), and then her Mom showed up. Quite a lovely woman. Well the ceremony was about to kick off, we get told to take our seats, the girlfriend asks me to pick up the program on her chair and she sat on my hand...or, she almost sat on my hand. When you realize that someone is about to put their ass on your hand, you move your hand. Damn woman looked at me like I was trying to steal dessert. Not even close. She laughed (again, this is important later), and wondered if my head was going to be okay. Head? Crap, this thing is outdoors, and while I'm in the shade of a tree at this moment, I know in 10 minutes my head is going to burn. I neglected to bring a hat. Well, the procession is starting, I can't just interrupt them for my stupidity. I'll just wait until there is a break in the action.
Time for the Anthem. I have to admit, every time I hear the Anthem, and I mean hear it, like stand at attention and listen to the words and comprehend them, I get a little choked up. Now add to it that someone who is little brother to me is up there on stage belting it out in front of 300+ people and owning it like he wrote the jingle himself, I can only tell you that I am one very proud big brother. The kid got a standing ovation!
Other people, board members or whomever, get announced. And after 20 minutes of this, my noggin is on fire. I realized I'm about 30 minutes away from a serious burn, not the type that will look pretty, but the kind that will have people asking me if I was in some type of kitchen accident. Eureka, we're all asked to stand and applaud the board members, I make a line to the back where I can stand and be in the shade. I found the kid's friend from Denver who drove up for this shindig. And since he's about as dry a wit as I am, it was a good time. The first thing we talked about was the wasting of $120K of someone's money on a Liberal Arts degree. Sorry, but couldn't you go to a state college to major in English Lit? Mind you, I say this as someone who barely graduated in his major, but did graduate with an Accounting degree. Yes, I coulda been a CPA, but it's not something I wanted. Now, after hearing a short and concise valedictorian speech and the guest speaker (the COO of Netflix, pretty cool), I figured out my theme for this weekend and probably going forward. You have to be willing to make mistakes and pick yourself up if you do. Otherwise you can learn nothing about yourself. Living in a bubble is boring as hell. I think I've done okay at this, but listening to what some of these kids are going to do, some will, and some are going for broke. Some are 'exploring career opportunities'. There were only like 50 graduates. Not exactly a huge college. But to get the COO of Netflix, someone either has to know him, pay him a huge fee, or this school has something going for it.
The funniest things the kid's friend and I heard were the Masters in Teaching thesis'. And the one that sticks out is (I'm paraphrasing) "Measuring success in sexual education in middle school curriculum". I looked at the friend and mentioned that there is no way this woman either hasn't blown an 8th grade class or soon will be on the news. And believe me, if you saw her, you'd think the same thing, too.
So many 'Explain Ya Outfit' candidates at this event that I got 4 other people to play the game, too. Look at me, helping people mock others in another state, some of those with questionable taste in fashion were from other countries..does this make me an International Asshole?
After graduation was over, pictures are taken and we get back to the house in Reno, it's time to relax. Then the kid and the girlfriend and his two buddies show up at the house, time to have some amusement and swap stories. I don't get revved up until later in the afternoon. A champagne toast by the proud parents, some cards get opened, and then I spot a note about the girlfriend. She is most definitely trying to plant a wedge between mother and son. This has the potential to get ugly, but it doesn't. But my Aunt and I caught eyes. Eyes that 24 years of knowing someone screams out certain things. My Aunt is a proud woman, very courteous, and a hell of a host. And then you notice that everywhere the kid goes, the girlfriend goes. And she hangs on him. Like a Vulture. I nicknamed her 'Stage 5'. She pinched me twice (again, wait for it, it's coming). I got my arm touched, "Do you work out?"-Now I admit I wasn't thinking anything about this stuff, not until Day 4.
The other thing I noticed was that while all of us, sans the girlfriend, had to either drive or fly to this celebration, no one got any real alone time with the kid. I knew this was a definite possibility, but only because he's got family, his Gramma is 82, his parents love him very much, and his two best friends drove up together from Denver. At dinner I gave him my piece of advice, advice or words of wisdom that I wished someone had bestowed upon me-"Do what you love, the money will come". I believe that. But back to the girlfriend, it seems that she occupied the kid's time far more than she should have, that no one, other than Gramma got a minute with the kid. I found this odd. My feelings weren't hurt, but only because I had prepped myself with the idea that this was probably going to happen.
Day 4
Since we didn't have to be up and out the door, it was all about getting a few more zzz's and relaxing. Until dinner time. The kid and the girlfriend along with the two friends showed up for dinner, the girlfriend still in her tattoo job work shirt. It's a half hour drive, couldn't you change your shirt in the car in that time? I told her 'cool design' and she immediately wants my address to send me a shirt. Quite enthusiastic, I thought to myself. "Maybe later, not that big of a deal."
She told me she didn't mind, with a guy with my 'look' it could be great advertising. In Denver? Okie-Dokie. I'm sitting on a bench out on the back patio, big enough for 3 people to cram in, definitely comfortable to for 2. The girlfriend sat nexttome. Yes, that close. Look, if it were me and my girlfriend, I would have no issue with hips touching, might even consider it endearing. But this is NOT my girlfriend, it's the girlfriend of my 'little brother'. I moved a bit to the side to give her some room. She moved with me. Something is starting to formulate in my granite-filled head. But not yet.
Time to get drinks for dinner. I get up to help (you're damn right I jumped at the opportunity) and after I drop the first wave of drinks to the unseated table, the girlfriend is in front of me. She pokes my belly. "What are you doing?", I asked. She tells me I just look so cute and thought it would be fun to poke me. No one pokes me. Seriously, I have girls whom I've known forever, no romantic under- or over- tones and they don't poke me. Let alone my belly. I'm pretty sure this is straight out of 'Flirting 101', which is why I again asked, "What are you doing?", but softly, because I don't need to cause a scene with 12 other people around us. And this, quite frankly, is fucked up. Again, things are formulating in my head (yes, wicked slow on the uptake).
Dinner is good, I toasted my Aunt the host for feeding us, entertaining us, and having us into this house that isn't hers and making it feel like a home to all of us who came to visit (yup, I'm bragging about myself), because it's the right thing to do.
After dinner, the two friends headed back to the road to Denver, while Gramma and her 'Companion' Stan retired to the living room with the TV. I headed to other living room, where my stuff and where I sleep on an air mattress to just catch my breath. Hey, making people laugh with different stories for 4 days is tiring. Well, the kid, the girlfriend, and one of my Aunt's friends and her 11 year old son followed me...apparently story time wasn't over. Being exhausted, I fell back to the ol' tried and true, my dating stories, and the horror that comes with being single and 34. Not once, by the way, did I mention a certain someone, mostly because trying to explain that to this crowd might entice me to run into oncoming traffic. The layout of the room is as such-couch, two chairs, a step down into the room, and of course, the air mattress. Honestly, one or 2 days on that thing isn't horrible, but by night 4, my back was not happy with me. The 11 yr old took a seat on the couch, his Mom on one chair. I sit on the step ledge, and the kid follows me in sitting there. Now, having laid this whole room out for you, where do you think the girlfriend sat? No, not on the chair. She decided to lay herself on my air mattress, and all the tumblers went into place----this broad is beyond flirting with me!
I couldn't tell you what else I rambled on about. All that went thru my head was if I was nuts in thinking all these things adding up, going thru the memory bank to see if there was something I missed, or maybe I'm just paranoid, or maybe I misconstrued one of those touches, pokes or pinches.
Nope. Because after the kid and the girlfriend left (with the 2 seconds too long hug by the girlfriend) I waited until Gramma and everyone else went to bed, except my Aunt, her friend and the 11 yr old. I told my Aunt that I think I know why you don't like her, and I have my own reason.
"Why?"
From the mouth of the 11 yr old, who has said maybe 14 words the whole time he's been in the house, and I quote "Because she's a slut. Sorry, Mom, I know I'm not supposed to say that stuff." This is from an 11 yr old kid with diagnosed ADD and dyslexia. If he figured it out, I'm pretty sure he's on point.
I told my Aunt about all the stuff, and her friend backed me up, stating that the girlfriend was very seductive, very Michell Pfieffer in 'The Fabulous Baker Boys' (whatever the hell that is) when she laid herself down on my air mattress. Yes, collaborating witnesses.
And then I had to break the bad news to my Aunt. She can't say a damn thing. Neither can anyone else. Why? Because if my Aunt said anything to the kid, he wouldn't believe it, he would hate me, hate his mother for telling him this stuff, and alienate himself from this family, and push more towards hanging out with the girlfriend, who is a controlling manipulative vulture. She is definitely using sex as a weapon. I also told my aunt to go back to when I first moved out to Denver, my first girlfriend, how her, my uncle and my parents couldn't stand her, for one simple reason. I wasn't me, I was the whipped half-man half Eddie Bauer catalog that she tried to fit me into. But they never said anything until she dumped me, because it was the right play. The same is true now. My Aunt apologized for the behavior of the girlfriend, because that's her way. I told her not to, I was flattered and appalled, all at the same time. And that this relationship will run its natural course, I'm making book that it ends before the end of summer, when the kid gets a job in the Bay Area or LA. Just my gut, which after being poked, is still pretty good.
Day 5 and sports in the AM!!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
quick picks
I'm taking the C's, Fakers, Blackhawks and Habs in all the series left...That is all for now.
Friday, May 14, 2010
The Good, The Bad, The Reno, and The Please Choke the Ugly
The Good
What else did you think the good would be? That would be the Celtics beating the Cavaliers and sending the city of Cleveland into a frenzy and the New York media more aflitter than Chris Matthews was oogling the Obama's before the election.
Well, at least this Celtics fan knew what was up. Reading the headlines and articles this morning, you'd have thought that LeBron played the C's 1 on 5 without any help from his teammates or that the C's were actually any good. I could break it down, but what for? If you saw game 5, then you saw the potential end of an era in Cleveland, an aged but battle-tested team, and a very athletic and talented young man start to show some wear on him due to his lack of postseason success. Yes, James is a freakish talent, but no one cares about regular season awards. Winning an individual award like the MVP is great, but it means nothing come the postseason. So for all the Boston haters, they're still in it, like it or not.
The Bad
Spouse bashing. I landed in Reno less than 48 hours ago, and while I love my extended family and have to deal with certain issues, I don't appreciate the bashing, even if it's deserved. My 'Uncle', nice a man as he is, is a drunk. And he's getting up in years, hard of hearing, extremely argumentative, and rarely pays attention. That being said, my 'Aunt' is a control freak, wants things done how she wants them done. Now, while that will work for a single person like myself, in a marriage, I'm thinking since you said "For Better or For Worse", you kinda know what you are in for. If I can give any piece of advice to anyone contemplating marriage, or hell, even dating someone, think about the worst, the ugliness, if you will. And then ask yourself if you would consistently bash, berate, and undercut your significant other. If you would, I implore you to seek other options. I have had to listen to my 'Uncle' be wrong on everything, on shit that does not matter. He said "it's a couple of blocks away", she has to correct him with "it's 2 blocks away." That's not so much a correction but a clarification. The guy isn't an idiot, merely a drunk. Don't get the two confused. I counted 3 times in succession a correction or clarification, in a row. Might not seem like much, but when you've had to listen to someone bash the other for a whole day, it grates on you. Add to that I'm on a few hours of sleep before I got out to Reno and got no sleep last night thanks to the freakin' cat (I am starting to hate that animal), I'm on a bit of an edge. He ain't helping with his constant questions and not listening to the answers.
The Reno
or as I will call it, Denver-Lite. That's what it feels like. The important thing is I'm here for someone I look at like a little brother. I'm very proud of him. His girlfriend, however, is a piece of work. She's a control freak. And since this kid decides to tell his mother that his girlfriend reminds him of his Mom, well, let's just add another layer to the dramacake that is this weekend. So far I haven't had any alone time with the kid, and I knew that was a possibility. But the reason, so far as I can see, is that his girlfriend is always there, clinging on him like a vulture. I know some guys want a woman to boss them around (not this guy, not even remotely), but I can't fathom for the life of me why a guy would want that. Date your mom, then. As for the rest of Reno of this trip so far, I did get to go out with the kid, his lady, and two of his friends. Yup, Grandpa at 34 years old and a bunch of 21 year olds. We went and did a little gambling, watched a guy act like an ass (really, the guy doesn't stack his chips, spills drinks on said chips, then wants to cash out-after winning $1200 tipped $2, thanks big spender, and then accused the dealer of shorting him $500, when he put that chip in his pocket immediately when he was cashed out-Grade A Douchebag), and then left for the strip club. This joint, somewhere in downtown Reno, is with a 98 cent store across the street, and a Fedex Kinkos/Deli (you read that right) next door, with the obligatory $17.95 a night motel on the other side. A $25 cover charge-it's Reno on a dead Thursday night-and then I got to watch the dummies and inexperienced and me, the old guy. The kid has done this before, clearly. His parents are under the impression that he is still an innocent young man, but I know better. He looks at things differently. Kind of like I do. He sees angles, he knows most people are full of crap. I love the young man this kid is becoming. It's funny because his parents blame me for his sarcasm (I take that like a badge of honor, you don't even know). If you and I are friends on facebook, you already know about the most ironic tattoo I've ever seen. If we aren't, well a stripper has a tramp stamp with the phrase 'Shy Girl' on top of it. If you can't see the irony in that, why are you reading this???
I almost got a lesbian stripper to quit, she wanted me to be her financial advisor (sure thing, I'm unemployed, stripper advisor-think of the business cards), but by the end of the night realized she couldn't take money from her ex just to get caught up on bills and take a tattoo makeup course. Read that again....like I can make this crap up. I watched the two newbies to stripperland spend money like they just hit the trifecta. Very amusing night.
The Oh So Damned Ugly
I really don't want to talk about what could very possibly be the biggest choke in sports...not yet.
What else did you think the good would be? That would be the Celtics beating the Cavaliers and sending the city of Cleveland into a frenzy and the New York media more aflitter than Chris Matthews was oogling the Obama's before the election.
Well, at least this Celtics fan knew what was up. Reading the headlines and articles this morning, you'd have thought that LeBron played the C's 1 on 5 without any help from his teammates or that the C's were actually any good. I could break it down, but what for? If you saw game 5, then you saw the potential end of an era in Cleveland, an aged but battle-tested team, and a very athletic and talented young man start to show some wear on him due to his lack of postseason success. Yes, James is a freakish talent, but no one cares about regular season awards. Winning an individual award like the MVP is great, but it means nothing come the postseason. So for all the Boston haters, they're still in it, like it or not.
The Bad
Spouse bashing. I landed in Reno less than 48 hours ago, and while I love my extended family and have to deal with certain issues, I don't appreciate the bashing, even if it's deserved. My 'Uncle', nice a man as he is, is a drunk. And he's getting up in years, hard of hearing, extremely argumentative, and rarely pays attention. That being said, my 'Aunt' is a control freak, wants things done how she wants them done. Now, while that will work for a single person like myself, in a marriage, I'm thinking since you said "For Better or For Worse", you kinda know what you are in for. If I can give any piece of advice to anyone contemplating marriage, or hell, even dating someone, think about the worst, the ugliness, if you will. And then ask yourself if you would consistently bash, berate, and undercut your significant other. If you would, I implore you to seek other options. I have had to listen to my 'Uncle' be wrong on everything, on shit that does not matter. He said "it's a couple of blocks away", she has to correct him with "it's 2 blocks away." That's not so much a correction but a clarification. The guy isn't an idiot, merely a drunk. Don't get the two confused. I counted 3 times in succession a correction or clarification, in a row. Might not seem like much, but when you've had to listen to someone bash the other for a whole day, it grates on you. Add to that I'm on a few hours of sleep before I got out to Reno and got no sleep last night thanks to the freakin' cat (I am starting to hate that animal), I'm on a bit of an edge. He ain't helping with his constant questions and not listening to the answers.
The Reno
or as I will call it, Denver-Lite. That's what it feels like. The important thing is I'm here for someone I look at like a little brother. I'm very proud of him. His girlfriend, however, is a piece of work. She's a control freak. And since this kid decides to tell his mother that his girlfriend reminds him of his Mom, well, let's just add another layer to the dramacake that is this weekend. So far I haven't had any alone time with the kid, and I knew that was a possibility. But the reason, so far as I can see, is that his girlfriend is always there, clinging on him like a vulture. I know some guys want a woman to boss them around (not this guy, not even remotely), but I can't fathom for the life of me why a guy would want that. Date your mom, then. As for the rest of Reno of this trip so far, I did get to go out with the kid, his lady, and two of his friends. Yup, Grandpa at 34 years old and a bunch of 21 year olds. We went and did a little gambling, watched a guy act like an ass (really, the guy doesn't stack his chips, spills drinks on said chips, then wants to cash out-after winning $1200 tipped $2, thanks big spender, and then accused the dealer of shorting him $500, when he put that chip in his pocket immediately when he was cashed out-Grade A Douchebag), and then left for the strip club. This joint, somewhere in downtown Reno, is with a 98 cent store across the street, and a Fedex Kinkos/Deli (you read that right) next door, with the obligatory $17.95 a night motel on the other side. A $25 cover charge-it's Reno on a dead Thursday night-and then I got to watch the dummies and inexperienced and me, the old guy. The kid has done this before, clearly. His parents are under the impression that he is still an innocent young man, but I know better. He looks at things differently. Kind of like I do. He sees angles, he knows most people are full of crap. I love the young man this kid is becoming. It's funny because his parents blame me for his sarcasm (I take that like a badge of honor, you don't even know). If you and I are friends on facebook, you already know about the most ironic tattoo I've ever seen. If we aren't, well a stripper has a tramp stamp with the phrase 'Shy Girl' on top of it. If you can't see the irony in that, why are you reading this???
I almost got a lesbian stripper to quit, she wanted me to be her financial advisor (sure thing, I'm unemployed, stripper advisor-think of the business cards), but by the end of the night realized she couldn't take money from her ex just to get caught up on bills and take a tattoo makeup course. Read that again....like I can make this crap up. I watched the two newbies to stripperland spend money like they just hit the trifecta. Very amusing night.
The Oh So Damned Ugly
I really don't want to talk about what could very possibly be the biggest choke in sports...not yet.
Monday, May 10, 2010
For Reals?
I swear, I'm kinda glad that I really don't even want the job I was supposed to interview for today...that's right, I said supposed to...and why? Read on:
Interview time was scheduled for 4:30. I left my house at 3:30, to make sure I would be 10-15 minutes early, because I can't stand being late. If I'm late because of something out of my control, I'll still be ticked, but I can manage that. If it's because of my own time mismanagement, it irks me, because it's disrespectful. Someone plans something, you show up when you're asked to show up, otherwise it looks like you think your time is more important. And while it may be, no need to be a damn snob about it.
Let me add that because I left at this time, you should be able to tell-if you've ever been to Denver or more importantly live(d) here-you know this wasn't exactly close to my house. 24 miles one way. I got there at 4:12, and it would've been earlier if it weren't for the Camry rolling along in the far left lane at 55 MPH-I swear there is a slow place in hell for the left lane vigilantes of the world-if I want to go fast, let me go fast, dammit!!
Side question-have you ever been able to listen to AC/DC and not wanted to crank up the volume and go like mad? Fine, me neither. But I will tell you that I wanted to go all 'SuperBad' on Saturday afternoon to help a buddy move, and my bottom lip popped right out when I saw traffic stopped on I-25 (go all 'SuperBad'...think Van Halen's 'Panama').
Hit the elevator, turn my cell phone to 'silent mode' and get psyched for this interview. For a telecom sales role that I don't really want (I'll get to that in a minute), that won't pay me squat, to work for a guy that's a Yankees fan-ugh. Oh, and that I had my first interview for 3 months ago-to the day!!!
The guy I had my first interview with was finishing up with some mumbling moron (come on, open your freaking mouth and enunciate, it's a sales job dipshit). Then I saw moron walk out, pants were way too short, and his shoes were all scuffed. Didn't anyone else have a father growing up to teach them this shit???!! Yes, please become a representative of my company with your clam-diggin' pants and beat up shoes. It ain't a helpdesk role, pal.
First guy comes up and tells me he's going to go check for the guy I'm supposed to interview with. No worries at all. He comes back to tell me that he's got something else to check on, it'll just be a second. Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.
And here it is...appears as though the guy I was supposed to interview was just finishing up a meeting in Boulder and wouldn't be coming back to the office. Now, I could be pissed for a few reasons:
1. I just drove 24 miles one way.
2. I shaved my noggin' and put on a suit & tie.
and 3 and 4 will tie together
3. it's a freakin' telecom company-you jackasses don't have a god damn cell phone amongst you to coordinate this effort of futility?
4. Apparently my time isn't worth jack, because First Guy gave me the other guy's card and told me he was sorry but I could reschedule and 'give him some shit if you feel like it'.
My hand to God, I wasn't mad about this at all as it happened. I told the guy 'no problem at all'. Why? Because I don't even want this job. Why? I don't give a damn about telecom. The only thing I care about phones is if I pick it up it has a dial tone, otherwise, don't care and I'll figure it out as I go along. We're not talking rocket surgery here, people. And if you think I'm kidding about not wanting this job, feel free to ask my buddy Jay, as I called him right before I left my house.
Now, my buddy that gave First Guy my name 3+ months ago, he's a little ticked. He thinks it was pretty disrespectful of my time to do that to me, and he may be on to something. He's right in assuming I could've used that time to fire off 1 or 2 more resumes. On that he is definitely right.
You know what really got me aggravated? Sitting in traffic. On the way back...and the clock on my car stereo read 4:27. The girl at the garage booth didn't even bother charging me for the 15 minutes this whole calamity took. And then I got to sit in rush hour traffic, and missed the dropping of the puck for the Bruins game....
Until I turned my TV on and Versus decided to show me Shittsburgh and Montreal....good grief.
All the while I've been thinking in my brain if I should say screw it, get in my car and just drive to Boston in June instead of flying out there and just get a job and move back home. When I pulled up to my house, I thought I was just being crazy...
Until my Run DMC T-shirt package showed up at the door with a Worcester, MA postage sent stamp.....Yup, stay tuned.
Interview time was scheduled for 4:30. I left my house at 3:30, to make sure I would be 10-15 minutes early, because I can't stand being late. If I'm late because of something out of my control, I'll still be ticked, but I can manage that. If it's because of my own time mismanagement, it irks me, because it's disrespectful. Someone plans something, you show up when you're asked to show up, otherwise it looks like you think your time is more important. And while it may be, no need to be a damn snob about it.
Let me add that because I left at this time, you should be able to tell-if you've ever been to Denver or more importantly live(d) here-you know this wasn't exactly close to my house. 24 miles one way. I got there at 4:12, and it would've been earlier if it weren't for the Camry rolling along in the far left lane at 55 MPH-I swear there is a slow place in hell for the left lane vigilantes of the world-if I want to go fast, let me go fast, dammit!!
Side question-have you ever been able to listen to AC/DC and not wanted to crank up the volume and go like mad? Fine, me neither. But I will tell you that I wanted to go all 'SuperBad' on Saturday afternoon to help a buddy move, and my bottom lip popped right out when I saw traffic stopped on I-25 (go all 'SuperBad'...think Van Halen's 'Panama').
Hit the elevator, turn my cell phone to 'silent mode' and get psyched for this interview. For a telecom sales role that I don't really want (I'll get to that in a minute), that won't pay me squat, to work for a guy that's a Yankees fan-ugh. Oh, and that I had my first interview for 3 months ago-to the day!!!
The guy I had my first interview with was finishing up with some mumbling moron (come on, open your freaking mouth and enunciate, it's a sales job dipshit). Then I saw moron walk out, pants were way too short, and his shoes were all scuffed. Didn't anyone else have a father growing up to teach them this shit???!! Yes, please become a representative of my company with your clam-diggin' pants and beat up shoes. It ain't a helpdesk role, pal.
First guy comes up and tells me he's going to go check for the guy I'm supposed to interview with. No worries at all. He comes back to tell me that he's got something else to check on, it'll just be a second. Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.
And here it is...appears as though the guy I was supposed to interview was just finishing up a meeting in Boulder and wouldn't be coming back to the office. Now, I could be pissed for a few reasons:
1. I just drove 24 miles one way.
2. I shaved my noggin' and put on a suit & tie.
and 3 and 4 will tie together
3. it's a freakin' telecom company-you jackasses don't have a god damn cell phone amongst you to coordinate this effort of futility?
4. Apparently my time isn't worth jack, because First Guy gave me the other guy's card and told me he was sorry but I could reschedule and 'give him some shit if you feel like it'.
My hand to God, I wasn't mad about this at all as it happened. I told the guy 'no problem at all'. Why? Because I don't even want this job. Why? I don't give a damn about telecom. The only thing I care about phones is if I pick it up it has a dial tone, otherwise, don't care and I'll figure it out as I go along. We're not talking rocket surgery here, people. And if you think I'm kidding about not wanting this job, feel free to ask my buddy Jay, as I called him right before I left my house.
Now, my buddy that gave First Guy my name 3+ months ago, he's a little ticked. He thinks it was pretty disrespectful of my time to do that to me, and he may be on to something. He's right in assuming I could've used that time to fire off 1 or 2 more resumes. On that he is definitely right.
You know what really got me aggravated? Sitting in traffic. On the way back...and the clock on my car stereo read 4:27. The girl at the garage booth didn't even bother charging me for the 15 minutes this whole calamity took. And then I got to sit in rush hour traffic, and missed the dropping of the puck for the Bruins game....
Until I turned my TV on and Versus decided to show me Shittsburgh and Montreal....good grief.
All the while I've been thinking in my brain if I should say screw it, get in my car and just drive to Boston in June instead of flying out there and just get a job and move back home. When I pulled up to my house, I thought I was just being crazy...
Until my Run DMC T-shirt package showed up at the door with a Worcester, MA postage sent stamp.....Yup, stay tuned.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Cleanup, aisle 7
Just wanted to clean up some items that I haven't gotten to....
My upcoming schedule
Seriously, I think getting a job might get in the way in the next few weeks. After interviewing with a company on February 10th (yes, you read that right), I have a 2nd interview on May 10th, this Monday...gee, a mere 3 months (!!!!!) after our first meeting. Thank goodness I didn't try too much to follow up. It's with a telecom company, I'm not even that interested in it...don't worry, I'll get to why in a second.
I'm on a plane to Reno a couple of days after the interview for my 'little brother's' college graduation. He's family, not blood, I've known him since he was born. I'm very proud of him, and since his real older brother is in jail and isn't exactly in the position to get a weekend pass, I'm it. I love this responsibility, and mostly the fact that this kid, who was shy, now doesn't take crap for anyone and knows when to be polite and when to stand up for himself, well I get blamed for that. Yes, I said blamed. It's that funny. If he has a wise-ass comment, his mother blames me. And I'm happy to take that blame. All day, every day. Very proud of him, because I knew college wouldn't be too difficult for him, that he'd stretch his mind, but wouldn't lose himself in something stupid, or worse, waste his parents money on an English Lit degree (yeah, I went there-you know I'm right).
After I get back, there's a wedding over Memorial Day weekend. If I didn't have to go to that, I'd have been on a plane to Boston. The wedding will be fine, I'm going alone-not that I am dating anyone, but if I were and it were a new relationship, I wouldn't feel right bringing her (whoever she is) to meet people in this setting-besides it's their day. Oh, and if you can't go with who you'd want to, then you go alone. Hey, it's my blog, hence my logic.
After Memorial Day, I get on a plane to Boston for the 2nd Annual Absolut Open (aka Pops golf tourney). I will have my buddies from college, hopefully a couple from high school and my neighborhood and some family playing golf while I get tanked and drive a golf cart. I'll be back for a week and honestly have no freaking clue what I'm doing while I'm back other than that one day of golf. I know I'll be seeing my Godson, and I can't wait to see him. He's apparently crawling all over the place and lifting himself up. I'll definitely hang out with Ma for a bit, maybe even see my brother (do not get me started, it's late, I'm tired and I have no idea what to say). I've got some friends to visit with, some family to hang out with, overall I'm only concerned about one thing...and it ties to the interview on Monday.
I could care less about selling phone systems. It doesn't even remotely move me. Yes, having a job and some income would be great, for all sorts of reasons. I just wonder if I'm delaying the inevitable. I'm not freaking out or constantly questioning whether or not I should leave Denver, not by any stretch, but I have allowed myself to really think about leaving and moving somewhere else. Just on my mind.
See, now can't you understand why a job might get in the way the next couple of weeks?
On to some other things...
I think Facebook should change it's name to Shit-Starter. Have you heard some of the moronic crap people fight about, and it's got on some asinine level something to do with something someone posted on Facebook, or a comment made, etc...you get the point. For the last time, while I appreciate all the technology we have at our disposal, I'm getting the notion, strongly, that people can't hold a conversation. And based on our Facebook/Shit-Starter and texting capabilities, subtlety of language is being lost. Look at it this way-if you didn't know me, unless I put something in italics or (in parenthesis)-you couldn't pick up on my sarcasm. Talk to me face to face or over the phone, you can pick it up no problem. That message will be received, zero distortion. Maybe it's me, maybe I have to find a better way to write this? Well I will keep writing this blog, but I will also make sure to hand-write a note here and there. Hallmark still doesn't have anything on me.
Taser Kid-if by now you don't know what I'm talking about, here is a brief rundown. Kid goes to a Phillies game with his dad. Kid decides he should run on the field of said baseball game. Kid runs away from portly security guard/cop. Kid gets tasered. People freak the hell out, on comment boards, sports radio, The View, etc. Quite frankly, and considering our time in history, I'm going to suggest something extremely radical. Shoot to kill. Too strong? Fine. Remember Monica Seles? Oh you don't remember some guy coming out of the stands and stabbing her in the back, severely altering her career and earning capacity? I know different sports deal with things differently, and I still vividly remember Tie Domi beating the piss out of some fat Flyers fan (go figure):
so maybe hockey would be okay. Remember the Malice at the Palace (of course you do). Or how about Tom Gamboa? What I'm saying is this-you can watch CNBC, MSNBC, ABC, NBC, CBS and have them tell you that white males are going to kill you, but I'm not the guy leaving a smoldering SUV in the middle of Times Square to blow shit up.
Back to the sports part-it's written on the ticket stub, you don't run on the field, the court, the ice, whatever. You pay to watch people do something better than you. Look, about the only thing any couch potato can have the right to say they 'can do that better' is kick an extra point...maybe. Otherwise, I know for a fact I can't catch up to a 94 mph fastball, can't dunk, can't rip off a 101 mph slapshot and certainly can't tackle someone who benches 300 lbs. and squats 350. Will I mock them for not being able to? Well, if they play for the Fakers, Yankees, Colts or Flyers, why yes, yes I will. But I won't run on the field. As for Taser Kid, some dope did the same thing the next night and was only tackled. Why? These idiots need to know that there are consequences to their actions. And don't go telling me they could die. Sorry, that's the risk you take trying to interrupt a sporting event. I'm only thinking that if someone got shot, like in the calf, that no one would ever run on the field of play. Ever. Fine, shoot 'em with beanbags, I don't care, but I'm getting tired of the PC Police telling me someone has a social disorder. Some people just suck, and need to be dealt with. There's nothing wrong with telling a schmuck "NO".
I won't get too political, but I'm amazed at the stupidity of people protesting Arizona sports teams. Based on a bill that was passed in state legislature. That basically mimics the federal government, the same government that won't do its damn job. Here's how I relate this whole thing-ever had a roommate? Yes? Great. Ever ask said roommate to pass you the remote? Like say, 5 or 6 times? And they ignore you? What do you do? Do you ask for the remote a 6th or 7th time, or do you get up and get the damn remote yourself? And that, boys and girls, is the stupidity we deal with. I have no issues with immigration, I have huge issues with illegal immigration. I have a hard time listening to the head of Mexico telling me how my country should deal with illegals, when if his own country weren't so damn corrupt no one would have a reason to try and break in to my country. Hell I have friends that aren't from this country, others with dual citizenship, and to them, I can only say thank you for signing the guest book to my country. It is now your country. What if you came here legally, did everything diligently, earned for yourself and maybe even your family? What is your thought about just giving everyone a free ride? I would think that if it were me I'd be pissed. Spare me with Arizona being racist. That's crap and you know it. If Montana passed the same law, would there be this outrage? Doubtful at best, because I don't know how many people from Canada are breaking into the US....they usually sign the guest book. Thank goodness the same people that tell you in one breath that we are 'one people' are the first to point out who looks different and why should be mad or scared of them.
Hell, I'm all for racial profiling, if it means my cousin doesn't get strip searched at Dulles ever again. Because a lot of those people that flew planes into the World Trade Center were blonde-haired, blue-eyed white women, right? How about killing 13 people in Fort Hood screaming 'Allah Akbar'? Trying to blow up a plane by lighting their underwear on fire? Blow up Ft. Dix? Blow up Times Square? The USS Cole? Gee, I think I see a pattern here...none of them were White, Black, Latino or Asian, were they. None were even women!! They were, say it with me now, radical Muslims. Don't like that term? How about Islamic Terrorists? Better? Because that's what they are. If I'm coming across as mad, then I am getting my point across. The liberal media and their white guilt is not my white guilt. I have none. I don't take the time to discriminate-if I don't like you, it has nothing to do with the melanin level in your skin. Of that I can assure you. Now if you want to blow me up, I might not like that so much. Liberals suck. It's okay for South Park to take shots at everyone but Muslims. Fuck off, you are not protected. Way to nut up, Comedy Central. That was pathetic. When the Times Square bomb failed, dipshits across the dial were hoping, praying, damn near begging it was a white male, and hopefully a member of the Tea Party. Media sucks. And then it had to make sure it didn't announce that he was Muslim. They were hoping it was someone white who was disgruntled at the system, so they could put everyone under the same cloak. So much for individuality. So much for my safety as a citizen. We as a nation have had way too many attempts at blowing people up. And don't you worry, it will happen. Someone will get it right, and we will forever be changed again. Do you remember September 10, 2001? Me, neither. I guess all I'm saying is that if you watch the national news, or the big media affiliates, for anything other than weather and sports, you're being misled, at an alarming and disgusting rate. Feel free to question authority, and if someone tells you not to, tell them what they are doing is the rape of self, the rape of individuality, of personal freedom. There is no punishment for that unless you stand up for yourself and say "NO". Once you say no, you change the game.
(Sorry, I'm a wee bit peeved at the stupids again)
Roman Polanski wants to seal testimony if he comes back for his rape trial. Hey Roman, be thankful you've been able to duck the law in the open for 30+ years, and I don't care if the now woman says to let bygones be bygones, you drugged and boozed up a 13 year old girl and had sex with her. Consensual or not, it's still disgusting and very much illegal. Take your medicine. And to those in Hollyweird signing petitions telling the courts to let this go, are you friggin' nuts? What would you do if it was your 13 year old daughter? Let it slide??
Lawrence Taylor...wow, this story is getting weirder by the hour. First she was 15 and LT (the original) slapped her around. Then she's 16. And her pimp beat her up. Then it was that she told LT she was 19 before they did anything. Look, I'm not comparing Polanski to Taylor. They are very separate issues. If LT paid a prostitute I honestly have no issue with that. If she told him she was 19, that's a business transaction between adults. However, I'm hopeful that you could tell how old she is, but in this day in age, maybe not. LT cheated on his wife, that I have a problem with. Ignorance of the law doesn't mean that it doesn't apply to you, so I think LT will be getting some time of fine and sentence. Let me just say that the talking heads on TV who are 'appalled' that someone would pay for sex are lying thru their overwhitened teeth. What the hell do they think dating is? Or better yet, ask a sports writer what kind of lovin' he got the day he went to Tiffany's.....your witness.
JaMarcus Russell got released, and now the debate is if he's the biggest bust in NFL draft history. I'll make it short-yes, he's a bigger bust than Ryan Leaf. Leaf only took $9 Million, Russell took damn near $40 Million. This isn't about stats, or alienating your teammates, or pissing off the media. Football is big business, and Russell was a higher draft pick and took more money, case closed. Now Russell has to decide if he really wants to play football, and if he does, where can he learn the most about the pro game. Otherwise it is just wasted talent, and that's sad.
Shitty night for Boston sports teams, as the Celtics treated Game 3 like they were the Washington Generals and LeBron was Curly damn Neal and the rest of the GlobeTrotters. The Red Sox plain sucked. The B's, they played a decent game, and had a legit shot to close out the series with Philly. I will take a split on the road with Game 5 back in Boston with the chance to shut it down for the Flyers and allow them to make golf plans. I hear Florida is lovely this time of year.
Sunday is Mothers Day. Call your Mom. I've talked to mine twice this week already, and she already got her flowers-to which she doesn't think she deserves. She cracks me up. I'm her son, she deserves so much more.
My upcoming schedule
Seriously, I think getting a job might get in the way in the next few weeks. After interviewing with a company on February 10th (yes, you read that right), I have a 2nd interview on May 10th, this Monday...gee, a mere 3 months (!!!!!) after our first meeting. Thank goodness I didn't try too much to follow up. It's with a telecom company, I'm not even that interested in it...don't worry, I'll get to why in a second.
I'm on a plane to Reno a couple of days after the interview for my 'little brother's' college graduation. He's family, not blood, I've known him since he was born. I'm very proud of him, and since his real older brother is in jail and isn't exactly in the position to get a weekend pass, I'm it. I love this responsibility, and mostly the fact that this kid, who was shy, now doesn't take crap for anyone and knows when to be polite and when to stand up for himself, well I get blamed for that. Yes, I said blamed. It's that funny. If he has a wise-ass comment, his mother blames me. And I'm happy to take that blame. All day, every day. Very proud of him, because I knew college wouldn't be too difficult for him, that he'd stretch his mind, but wouldn't lose himself in something stupid, or worse, waste his parents money on an English Lit degree (yeah, I went there-you know I'm right).
After I get back, there's a wedding over Memorial Day weekend. If I didn't have to go to that, I'd have been on a plane to Boston. The wedding will be fine, I'm going alone-not that I am dating anyone, but if I were and it were a new relationship, I wouldn't feel right bringing her (whoever she is) to meet people in this setting-besides it's their day. Oh, and if you can't go with who you'd want to, then you go alone. Hey, it's my blog, hence my logic.
After Memorial Day, I get on a plane to Boston for the 2nd Annual Absolut Open (aka Pops golf tourney). I will have my buddies from college, hopefully a couple from high school and my neighborhood and some family playing golf while I get tanked and drive a golf cart. I'll be back for a week and honestly have no freaking clue what I'm doing while I'm back other than that one day of golf. I know I'll be seeing my Godson, and I can't wait to see him. He's apparently crawling all over the place and lifting himself up. I'll definitely hang out with Ma for a bit, maybe even see my brother (do not get me started, it's late, I'm tired and I have no idea what to say). I've got some friends to visit with, some family to hang out with, overall I'm only concerned about one thing...and it ties to the interview on Monday.
I could care less about selling phone systems. It doesn't even remotely move me. Yes, having a job and some income would be great, for all sorts of reasons. I just wonder if I'm delaying the inevitable. I'm not freaking out or constantly questioning whether or not I should leave Denver, not by any stretch, but I have allowed myself to really think about leaving and moving somewhere else. Just on my mind.
See, now can't you understand why a job might get in the way the next couple of weeks?
On to some other things...
I think Facebook should change it's name to Shit-Starter. Have you heard some of the moronic crap people fight about, and it's got on some asinine level something to do with something someone posted on Facebook, or a comment made, etc...you get the point. For the last time, while I appreciate all the technology we have at our disposal, I'm getting the notion, strongly, that people can't hold a conversation. And based on our Facebook/Shit-Starter and texting capabilities, subtlety of language is being lost. Look at it this way-if you didn't know me, unless I put something in italics or (in parenthesis)-you couldn't pick up on my sarcasm. Talk to me face to face or over the phone, you can pick it up no problem. That message will be received, zero distortion. Maybe it's me, maybe I have to find a better way to write this? Well I will keep writing this blog, but I will also make sure to hand-write a note here and there. Hallmark still doesn't have anything on me.
Taser Kid-if by now you don't know what I'm talking about, here is a brief rundown. Kid goes to a Phillies game with his dad. Kid decides he should run on the field of said baseball game. Kid runs away from portly security guard/cop. Kid gets tasered. People freak the hell out, on comment boards, sports radio, The View, etc. Quite frankly, and considering our time in history, I'm going to suggest something extremely radical. Shoot to kill. Too strong? Fine. Remember Monica Seles? Oh you don't remember some guy coming out of the stands and stabbing her in the back, severely altering her career and earning capacity? I know different sports deal with things differently, and I still vividly remember Tie Domi beating the piss out of some fat Flyers fan (go figure):
so maybe hockey would be okay. Remember the Malice at the Palace (of course you do). Or how about Tom Gamboa? What I'm saying is this-you can watch CNBC, MSNBC, ABC, NBC, CBS and have them tell you that white males are going to kill you, but I'm not the guy leaving a smoldering SUV in the middle of Times Square to blow shit up.
Back to the sports part-it's written on the ticket stub, you don't run on the field, the court, the ice, whatever. You pay to watch people do something better than you. Look, about the only thing any couch potato can have the right to say they 'can do that better' is kick an extra point...maybe. Otherwise, I know for a fact I can't catch up to a 94 mph fastball, can't dunk, can't rip off a 101 mph slapshot and certainly can't tackle someone who benches 300 lbs. and squats 350. Will I mock them for not being able to? Well, if they play for the Fakers, Yankees, Colts or Flyers, why yes, yes I will. But I won't run on the field. As for Taser Kid, some dope did the same thing the next night and was only tackled. Why? These idiots need to know that there are consequences to their actions. And don't go telling me they could die. Sorry, that's the risk you take trying to interrupt a sporting event. I'm only thinking that if someone got shot, like in the calf, that no one would ever run on the field of play. Ever. Fine, shoot 'em with beanbags, I don't care, but I'm getting tired of the PC Police telling me someone has a social disorder. Some people just suck, and need to be dealt with. There's nothing wrong with telling a schmuck "NO".
I won't get too political, but I'm amazed at the stupidity of people protesting Arizona sports teams. Based on a bill that was passed in state legislature. That basically mimics the federal government, the same government that won't do its damn job. Here's how I relate this whole thing-ever had a roommate? Yes? Great. Ever ask said roommate to pass you the remote? Like say, 5 or 6 times? And they ignore you? What do you do? Do you ask for the remote a 6th or 7th time, or do you get up and get the damn remote yourself? And that, boys and girls, is the stupidity we deal with. I have no issues with immigration, I have huge issues with illegal immigration. I have a hard time listening to the head of Mexico telling me how my country should deal with illegals, when if his own country weren't so damn corrupt no one would have a reason to try and break in to my country. Hell I have friends that aren't from this country, others with dual citizenship, and to them, I can only say thank you for signing the guest book to my country. It is now your country. What if you came here legally, did everything diligently, earned for yourself and maybe even your family? What is your thought about just giving everyone a free ride? I would think that if it were me I'd be pissed. Spare me with Arizona being racist. That's crap and you know it. If Montana passed the same law, would there be this outrage? Doubtful at best, because I don't know how many people from Canada are breaking into the US....they usually sign the guest book. Thank goodness the same people that tell you in one breath that we are 'one people' are the first to point out who looks different and why should be mad or scared of them.
Hell, I'm all for racial profiling, if it means my cousin doesn't get strip searched at Dulles ever again. Because a lot of those people that flew planes into the World Trade Center were blonde-haired, blue-eyed white women, right? How about killing 13 people in Fort Hood screaming 'Allah Akbar'? Trying to blow up a plane by lighting their underwear on fire? Blow up Ft. Dix? Blow up Times Square? The USS Cole? Gee, I think I see a pattern here...none of them were White, Black, Latino or Asian, were they. None were even women!! They were, say it with me now, radical Muslims. Don't like that term? How about Islamic Terrorists? Better? Because that's what they are. If I'm coming across as mad, then I am getting my point across. The liberal media and their white guilt is not my white guilt. I have none. I don't take the time to discriminate-if I don't like you, it has nothing to do with the melanin level in your skin. Of that I can assure you. Now if you want to blow me up, I might not like that so much. Liberals suck. It's okay for South Park to take shots at everyone but Muslims. Fuck off, you are not protected. Way to nut up, Comedy Central. That was pathetic. When the Times Square bomb failed, dipshits across the dial were hoping, praying, damn near begging it was a white male, and hopefully a member of the Tea Party. Media sucks. And then it had to make sure it didn't announce that he was Muslim. They were hoping it was someone white who was disgruntled at the system, so they could put everyone under the same cloak. So much for individuality. So much for my safety as a citizen. We as a nation have had way too many attempts at blowing people up. And don't you worry, it will happen. Someone will get it right, and we will forever be changed again. Do you remember September 10, 2001? Me, neither. I guess all I'm saying is that if you watch the national news, or the big media affiliates, for anything other than weather and sports, you're being misled, at an alarming and disgusting rate. Feel free to question authority, and if someone tells you not to, tell them what they are doing is the rape of self, the rape of individuality, of personal freedom. There is no punishment for that unless you stand up for yourself and say "NO". Once you say no, you change the game.
(Sorry, I'm a wee bit peeved at the stupids again)
Roman Polanski wants to seal testimony if he comes back for his rape trial. Hey Roman, be thankful you've been able to duck the law in the open for 30+ years, and I don't care if the now woman says to let bygones be bygones, you drugged and boozed up a 13 year old girl and had sex with her. Consensual or not, it's still disgusting and very much illegal. Take your medicine. And to those in Hollyweird signing petitions telling the courts to let this go, are you friggin' nuts? What would you do if it was your 13 year old daughter? Let it slide??
Lawrence Taylor...wow, this story is getting weirder by the hour. First she was 15 and LT (the original) slapped her around. Then she's 16. And her pimp beat her up. Then it was that she told LT she was 19 before they did anything. Look, I'm not comparing Polanski to Taylor. They are very separate issues. If LT paid a prostitute I honestly have no issue with that. If she told him she was 19, that's a business transaction between adults. However, I'm hopeful that you could tell how old she is, but in this day in age, maybe not. LT cheated on his wife, that I have a problem with. Ignorance of the law doesn't mean that it doesn't apply to you, so I think LT will be getting some time of fine and sentence. Let me just say that the talking heads on TV who are 'appalled' that someone would pay for sex are lying thru their overwhitened teeth. What the hell do they think dating is? Or better yet, ask a sports writer what kind of lovin' he got the day he went to Tiffany's.....your witness.
JaMarcus Russell got released, and now the debate is if he's the biggest bust in NFL draft history. I'll make it short-yes, he's a bigger bust than Ryan Leaf. Leaf only took $9 Million, Russell took damn near $40 Million. This isn't about stats, or alienating your teammates, or pissing off the media. Football is big business, and Russell was a higher draft pick and took more money, case closed. Now Russell has to decide if he really wants to play football, and if he does, where can he learn the most about the pro game. Otherwise it is just wasted talent, and that's sad.
Shitty night for Boston sports teams, as the Celtics treated Game 3 like they were the Washington Generals and LeBron was Curly damn Neal and the rest of the GlobeTrotters. The Red Sox plain sucked. The B's, they played a decent game, and had a legit shot to close out the series with Philly. I will take a split on the road with Game 5 back in Boston with the chance to shut it down for the Flyers and allow them to make golf plans. I hear Florida is lovely this time of year.
Sunday is Mothers Day. Call your Mom. I've talked to mine twice this week already, and she already got her flowers-to which she doesn't think she deserves. She cracks me up. I'm her son, she deserves so much more.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
I need to update, pt. 1
Those darn NBA playoff predictions....
I didn't make a pick in the Orlando/Atlanta series, because Atlanta took 7 games to beat Milwaukee. Well, in my head I said Orlando in 5 games. Can I change my pick after Monday night's 43 point pasting? Nah, I'm sticking with the Magic, in 5 games.
I love that the Bruins keep winning, but if they keep winning at this pace-and losing players-there will only be a goalie and 2 defensemen left come next week. I'm just glad these guys are picking each other up.
I didn't make a pick in the Orlando/Atlanta series, because Atlanta took 7 games to beat Milwaukee. Well, in my head I said Orlando in 5 games. Can I change my pick after Monday night's 43 point pasting? Nah, I'm sticking with the Magic, in 5 games.
I love that the Bruins keep winning, but if they keep winning at this pace-and losing players-there will only be a goalie and 2 defensemen left come next week. I'm just glad these guys are picking each other up.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
NBA Round 2 picks, but first a review of round 1
Alright, as always, we must go back before we can move forward....I'm speaking of my 1st round of NBA playoff picks, I'm not that freakin' profound. There's what I said would happen, and what did happen...
I said Cleveland would beat Chicago in 5 games. Yup, that happened.
I said Atlanta would beat Milwaukee in 5 games...Uh, they are playing game 7 tomorrow afternoon.
I said the C's would beat Miami in 6 games. Well, it would've been a sweep if Dwayne Wade didn't own game 4, so the C's won in 5.
I said Orlando would beat Charlotte in 5 games...it took 4.
Eastern Conference-I'm 3 for 3 in series that have ended, just not in the amount of games.
I said the Nuggets would beat the Jazz in 6 games...oofah. And if you watched last night's 4th quarter, you will agree with me that this Nuggets team needs to be blown up and start all over again. 'Mr. Big Shot', Chauncey Billups, is a lovely coming home story. He's also an overrated PG who can be beat off the dribble and takes too many shots. I also love getting that technical foul towards the end of the game. Brilliant leadership. He's Jason Kidd without the ability to lead the break. Oh, and while I'm on the subject of blowing up that team-I'm of the opinion that the management needs to keep a few players, mostly Carmelo Anthony, but it's time to rid the team of the thugs and morons on this team...buh-bye to Kenyon Martin and his antics, JR 'Swish' (a guy who shoots 30% from 3 cannot swish a damn thing) and his ball-hogging. Seriously, this is not a good group of players, they have overvalued themselves and did not play thru their best player. Do you the Cavs wouldn't let LeBron touch the ball on damn near every possession when the 4th quarter rolls around? Me neither.
I said the Fakers would beat Oklahoma City in 6 games. It took 5, and a tip-in with 0.5 seconds last night, the way to beat the Lakers is easy. Pick-n-roll them to death with a PG that can hit a jumpshot...hello to Deron Williams.
I said San Antonio would beat Dallas in 7 games, it took 6.
I said Phoenix would beat Portland in 5 games, took 6.
So, what does this mean for the next round? It only means that I wish that all sports were like hockey in two specific ways. First, the playoff beard-it's awesome. And second, re-seeding. I love this idea and wish the NFL would do it, too. On to the next....
Celtics vs. Cleveland
I love this. Every pundit is picking this as the coronation of LeBron. And with good reason. This is the best team he's had around him. Add in the midseason trade for Antawn Jamison, and this Cavaliers team is much better than the team that took the C's to 7 games two years ago. But winning an individual award (James just won his 2nd straight MVP) means nothing, and he's more hurt with that right elbow than he is letting on. Either that or he's a tremendous actor. I'm a homer, and I admit this outright. And here's my reason I'm picking the C's, in 6 games, over Cleveland. Game 2 vs. Miami. We need to write a thank you letter to Quentin Richardson, SF for the Heat. He ticked off the Celtics as a team. He also woke them up to do the things that they weren't doing all year. All of a sudden, the defense was rotating, the rolls after the picks were stronger to the hoop. And most importantly, they are picking each other up. Not sure what I mean? Well, up until this season, everytime a guy got knocked down on a foul, or a loose ball, that guys teammates on the floor would help him up. This year it didn't happen so much, very rare occasion. Until Game 2. After Kevin Garnett got suspended for it, it's like they all realized that they had to get back to basics. So for the rest of that series, it was picking each other up. There seems to be more unity. And that's why I, the homer, am picking the C's in 6.
Milwaukee/Atlanta vs. Orlando-TBD
San Antonio vs. Phoenix
This is great, yet another two teams who don't really like each other. Unfortunately, Phoenix PG Steve Nash can't cover anyone, and can be exploited by the whole backcourt of San Antonio. Based on that, I'm taking San Antonio in 5.
Utah vs. Los Angeles
Here is the Fakers problem. They were just taken to 5 games by a team with no inside presence, only a point guard and a lanky forward who led the league in scoring during the regular season. Derek Fisher is too old and slow to cover Deron Williams. But Carlos Boozer is at a size disadvantage against Gasol and Bynum. Utah could get back AK47, Andrei Kirilenko. That would be a huge plus for them. Doesn't really matter if the Fakers decide to use their inside game more than shooting jumpers. I think they will be that smart. LA in 6.
Now, after Marc Savard comes back to the Bruins to hit the game-winning goal in OT, it's going to be one hell of a Saturday.
I said Cleveland would beat Chicago in 5 games. Yup, that happened.
I said Atlanta would beat Milwaukee in 5 games...Uh, they are playing game 7 tomorrow afternoon.
I said the C's would beat Miami in 6 games. Well, it would've been a sweep if Dwayne Wade didn't own game 4, so the C's won in 5.
I said Orlando would beat Charlotte in 5 games...it took 4.
Eastern Conference-I'm 3 for 3 in series that have ended, just not in the amount of games.
I said the Nuggets would beat the Jazz in 6 games...oofah. And if you watched last night's 4th quarter, you will agree with me that this Nuggets team needs to be blown up and start all over again. 'Mr. Big Shot', Chauncey Billups, is a lovely coming home story. He's also an overrated PG who can be beat off the dribble and takes too many shots. I also love getting that technical foul towards the end of the game. Brilliant leadership. He's Jason Kidd without the ability to lead the break. Oh, and while I'm on the subject of blowing up that team-I'm of the opinion that the management needs to keep a few players, mostly Carmelo Anthony, but it's time to rid the team of the thugs and morons on this team...buh-bye to Kenyon Martin and his antics, JR 'Swish' (a guy who shoots 30% from 3 cannot swish a damn thing) and his ball-hogging. Seriously, this is not a good group of players, they have overvalued themselves and did not play thru their best player. Do you the Cavs wouldn't let LeBron touch the ball on damn near every possession when the 4th quarter rolls around? Me neither.
I said the Fakers would beat Oklahoma City in 6 games. It took 5, and a tip-in with 0.5 seconds last night, the way to beat the Lakers is easy. Pick-n-roll them to death with a PG that can hit a jumpshot...hello to Deron Williams.
I said San Antonio would beat Dallas in 7 games, it took 6.
I said Phoenix would beat Portland in 5 games, took 6.
So, what does this mean for the next round? It only means that I wish that all sports were like hockey in two specific ways. First, the playoff beard-it's awesome. And second, re-seeding. I love this idea and wish the NFL would do it, too. On to the next....
Celtics vs. Cleveland
I love this. Every pundit is picking this as the coronation of LeBron. And with good reason. This is the best team he's had around him. Add in the midseason trade for Antawn Jamison, and this Cavaliers team is much better than the team that took the C's to 7 games two years ago. But winning an individual award (James just won his 2nd straight MVP) means nothing, and he's more hurt with that right elbow than he is letting on. Either that or he's a tremendous actor. I'm a homer, and I admit this outright. And here's my reason I'm picking the C's, in 6 games, over Cleveland. Game 2 vs. Miami. We need to write a thank you letter to Quentin Richardson, SF for the Heat. He ticked off the Celtics as a team. He also woke them up to do the things that they weren't doing all year. All of a sudden, the defense was rotating, the rolls after the picks were stronger to the hoop. And most importantly, they are picking each other up. Not sure what I mean? Well, up until this season, everytime a guy got knocked down on a foul, or a loose ball, that guys teammates on the floor would help him up. This year it didn't happen so much, very rare occasion. Until Game 2. After Kevin Garnett got suspended for it, it's like they all realized that they had to get back to basics. So for the rest of that series, it was picking each other up. There seems to be more unity. And that's why I, the homer, am picking the C's in 6.
Milwaukee/Atlanta vs. Orlando-TBD
San Antonio vs. Phoenix
This is great, yet another two teams who don't really like each other. Unfortunately, Phoenix PG Steve Nash can't cover anyone, and can be exploited by the whole backcourt of San Antonio. Based on that, I'm taking San Antonio in 5.
Utah vs. Los Angeles
Here is the Fakers problem. They were just taken to 5 games by a team with no inside presence, only a point guard and a lanky forward who led the league in scoring during the regular season. Derek Fisher is too old and slow to cover Deron Williams. But Carlos Boozer is at a size disadvantage against Gasol and Bynum. Utah could get back AK47, Andrei Kirilenko. That would be a huge plus for them. Doesn't really matter if the Fakers decide to use their inside game more than shooting jumpers. I think they will be that smart. LA in 6.
Now, after Marc Savard comes back to the Bruins to hit the game-winning goal in OT, it's going to be one hell of a Saturday.
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