I believe that men should provide some sort of selfless service in their life, either by donating their time or money (but never both). I went a little crazy over the weekend. I volunteered to help out with Preston and Steve's Campout for Hunger on Thursday morning. Since I was on the "early" shift (had to be there before 7 AM), in order for me to make sure I was there on time, I had to wake up at 4 AM. So, I was in bed early on Wednesday, which would explain no post there.
This past weekend, I was helping with my youth group at a state wide induction ceremony. Before I left around 3 on Friday (I got the day off), I needed to get some tires for my car. I was thinking it was going to be an in and out job, seeing as it was a Friday, and I was going to get my Christmas shopping done before I took off. Not the case. I left the house around 10, and didn't get back until about 2:15. Still having to pack, I had avoided the Christmas shopping. The weekend was awesome, as always, but I didn't get a chance to post here because we're always busy.
Anyway, I just wanted to mention that I'm trying to edit my own book so that I can get it published. It'll be on Amazon for sale, but still. It'll be published. I will tell you from experience that writing is fun, but editing is not. You can't edit nearly as fast as you write, and if you try it yourself, you'll definitely understand why. Regardless, I was busy defriending a ton of people on Facebook that I haven't talked to in a while, so editing is my project for tomorrow after work.
Monday, December 9, 2013
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Homebrew
My bad for not posting. I've been a little busy.
As you may know, I brewed a fresh batch of beer a few weeks ago. I went and tried one today, and the initial gravity, which tells you potential alcohol, was full of lies. My initial reading was 1.065, which tells me that it should be right around 6.5%. That's not the case. I had one, just ONE tonight, and I feel GREAT. Like nearly tied one on great. I'm going to fully enjoy this batch.
I have a ton of clothes to take to Goodwill from a few weeks back. I'm going to try to get a few suits while I'm there. When I was an elected state officer, I actually got a Tux there for about $20. No joke. I can't wait.
And that's about it for tonight. See ya'll next time.
As you may know, I brewed a fresh batch of beer a few weeks ago. I went and tried one today, and the initial gravity, which tells you potential alcohol, was full of lies. My initial reading was 1.065, which tells me that it should be right around 6.5%. That's not the case. I had one, just ONE tonight, and I feel GREAT. Like nearly tied one on great. I'm going to fully enjoy this batch.
I have a ton of clothes to take to Goodwill from a few weeks back. I'm going to try to get a few suits while I'm there. When I was an elected state officer, I actually got a Tux there for about $20. No joke. I can't wait.
And that's about it for tonight. See ya'll next time.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Rant
NSFM
Tonight is a gripe night. Deal with it.
On the way home from work tonight, I rediscovered something: when it starts to rain, people forget how to drive. I mean, really. The road is just a little wet. Why is traffic delayed 30 FUCKING minutes because two people freak out.
I get it. Slow down. Drive safe, and all at that stuff. But, really. There's no need to do 20 in a 55. The rain really isn't that bad. It's not going to kill you. In fact, the slower you go, the worse it is. Your tires can't get traction if you go that slow. If you don't believe me, watch the episode of Top Gear where Richard drives a Grand Prix car. I'm not saying that we're driving Grand Prix cars out there, but logic will dictate that you need to have some speed to get where you need to go safely and efficiently.
And that leads me to the other part: double parkers. Don't be lazy. Park your car, then do what you need to do. Stopping in the middle of the road and throwing your hazard flashers on does NOT excuse the fact that you're a lazy asshole that can't park his car. I passed 2 people tonight that double parked next to absolute NOTHING. I mean, seriously. Pull up to the curb and don't disrespect the rest of humanity by blocking their way.
Anyway, end rant. I shall be busy tomorrow night helping my friend Kevin in planning for his meeting. Synopsis to follow tomorrow night.
Tonight is a gripe night. Deal with it.
On the way home from work tonight, I rediscovered something: when it starts to rain, people forget how to drive. I mean, really. The road is just a little wet. Why is traffic delayed 30 FUCKING minutes because two people freak out.
I get it. Slow down. Drive safe, and all at that stuff. But, really. There's no need to do 20 in a 55. The rain really isn't that bad. It's not going to kill you. In fact, the slower you go, the worse it is. Your tires can't get traction if you go that slow. If you don't believe me, watch the episode of Top Gear where Richard drives a Grand Prix car. I'm not saying that we're driving Grand Prix cars out there, but logic will dictate that you need to have some speed to get where you need to go safely and efficiently.
And that leads me to the other part: double parkers. Don't be lazy. Park your car, then do what you need to do. Stopping in the middle of the road and throwing your hazard flashers on does NOT excuse the fact that you're a lazy asshole that can't park his car. I passed 2 people tonight that double parked next to absolute NOTHING. I mean, seriously. Pull up to the curb and don't disrespect the rest of humanity by blocking their way.
Anyway, end rant. I shall be busy tomorrow night helping my friend Kevin in planning for his meeting. Synopsis to follow tomorrow night.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Food
I'm in the middle of the 30 quest, which means tonight was the night that I had to make dinner. It was pretty good. I slow cooked a bolognese for about 9 hours, from scratch, and had it with pasta. It came out a bit thicker than I wanted, and could have used a bit more zest, but it was definitely very good. I would make this again. It also reminded me that I actually did know how to cook, so it looks like I'm being tasked with cooking every Monday night. Go me.
I bought another pair of shoes today. And before you tell me I have a problem, which I don't, I did need to buy these. They were $200 pair of Steve Madden's listed at $50, and I had a $10 coupon. I got a really nice pair of shoes for more than 75% off. I may sound like a woman, but a man needs to have quality shoes so that they can take care of his feet. These have wooden soles, so I'm hoping they'll last longer than the rubber ones. I'm still on the lookout for those deer fur soled shoes that I found a few years back. Those are some shoes that I could use.
I bought another pair of shoes today. And before you tell me I have a problem, which I don't, I did need to buy these. They were $200 pair of Steve Madden's listed at $50, and I had a $10 coupon. I got a really nice pair of shoes for more than 75% off. I may sound like a woman, but a man needs to have quality shoes so that they can take care of his feet. These have wooden soles, so I'm hoping they'll last longer than the rubber ones. I'm still on the lookout for those deer fur soled shoes that I found a few years back. Those are some shoes that I could use.
Friday, November 22, 2013
It's Friday!
It looks as if, in my ever growing "busy" life, I missed an entry or two into the journal. I shall explain.
On Wednesday, I decided that it would be of good value to take inventory of my damaged and ill fitting dress shirts, along with other things. Figuring out what doesn't fit was the easy part: I have a 15 1/2 inch neck, with a 32/33 inch sleeve. Just look at the tag, and you have the answer. As far as what is damaged, that's another story.
Stains are difficult to tell, especially if you follow proper care on your clothing (FYI: dress shirts are not to be washed every time you wear them. Depending on how harsh the environment is around you, you can make it to five wears without thinking of needing the washer. Just sniff the pits, and decide from there.). This led me to deciding that every single one of my dress shirts, 16 to be exact, needed to be washed. I threw all of the colored shirts in the washer, leaving the whites for the second round. All of my shirts have been washed at least once. No problem in bleeding there.
As I'm prone to do, I checked the Art of Manliness on how to properly iron your shirts while they were in the washer. One article said to just iron them out of the dryer, since lint is actually pieces of the clothing. So I opted for the straight out of the washer approach to ironing my shirts. That was a mistake. I was ironing, no lie, from 7:00 PM until 1:30 AM. Work yesterday was an adventure, to say the least. I do, however, have a great inventory list of what I need to replace.
After work yesterday, I decided to stop at the Men's Wearhouse on the way home. I needed a pair of brown dress socks to go with my saddle shoes, because being the idiot that I am sometimes, I didn't get them when I got the shoes. They're also doing a buy one, get one sale, and you can take an additional 50% off of everything else you purchase. I ended up leaving with that pair of socks, a tie bar (I'm tired of my ties blowing in the wind), a grouping of black dress socks, and 3 dress shirts. This cost me about $120, when it could easily have costed me $240. Krista, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. I only intended for the brown socks. But I promise, after the holiday, I'm coming to you for more shirts.
And that catches us up to now. The next task on the 30 day challenge is to create my bucket list. I have a bunch of ideas, but I need to get them down on paper. Tomorrow's task is to declutter. That should take me all day. In addition to that, I still need to do a number of things before I even get started, not least of all is to pick up my dry cleaning and to get a file box. I'm not going to make any promises on a post tomorrow.
On Wednesday, I decided that it would be of good value to take inventory of my damaged and ill fitting dress shirts, along with other things. Figuring out what doesn't fit was the easy part: I have a 15 1/2 inch neck, with a 32/33 inch sleeve. Just look at the tag, and you have the answer. As far as what is damaged, that's another story.
Stains are difficult to tell, especially if you follow proper care on your clothing (FYI: dress shirts are not to be washed every time you wear them. Depending on how harsh the environment is around you, you can make it to five wears without thinking of needing the washer. Just sniff the pits, and decide from there.). This led me to deciding that every single one of my dress shirts, 16 to be exact, needed to be washed. I threw all of the colored shirts in the washer, leaving the whites for the second round. All of my shirts have been washed at least once. No problem in bleeding there.
As I'm prone to do, I checked the Art of Manliness on how to properly iron your shirts while they were in the washer. One article said to just iron them out of the dryer, since lint is actually pieces of the clothing. So I opted for the straight out of the washer approach to ironing my shirts. That was a mistake. I was ironing, no lie, from 7:00 PM until 1:30 AM. Work yesterday was an adventure, to say the least. I do, however, have a great inventory list of what I need to replace.
After work yesterday, I decided to stop at the Men's Wearhouse on the way home. I needed a pair of brown dress socks to go with my saddle shoes, because being the idiot that I am sometimes, I didn't get them when I got the shoes. They're also doing a buy one, get one sale, and you can take an additional 50% off of everything else you purchase. I ended up leaving with that pair of socks, a tie bar (I'm tired of my ties blowing in the wind), a grouping of black dress socks, and 3 dress shirts. This cost me about $120, when it could easily have costed me $240. Krista, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. I only intended for the brown socks. But I promise, after the holiday, I'm coming to you for more shirts.
And that catches us up to now. The next task on the 30 day challenge is to create my bucket list. I have a bunch of ideas, but I need to get them down on paper. Tomorrow's task is to declutter. That should take me all day. In addition to that, I still need to do a number of things before I even get started, not least of all is to pick up my dry cleaning and to get a file box. I'm not going to make any promises on a post tomorrow.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Damn Trees!
Well, in continuation from yesterday, the DSW I was in didn't have enough shoe trees for me. I had to go to a different one to pick up another pair today. I originally asked my boss if he had an extra pair, and he told me that he didn't use them.
"You know that they're pretty much essential, right? They draw out the moisture and return the shape to the shoe, elongating the life of the shoe." I say to him
"Yeah, but I just never liked them."
Blasphemy from a man who knows how to dress. Blasphemy, I tell you!
By the way, ALWAYS make sure you have enough shoe trees for each of your shoes. Other than the 2 benefits I mentioned before, it keeps the shoe smelling quite nice. I actually like the smell of cedar, so take that as you will.
Today's task, on the continuation of this, was to ask a girl out. As I don't have any prospects right now, I'm taking a rain check on this one. But once I find a girl that piques my interest, I'm going to jump on the ask-out train.
I, for the first time, was able to fix not one, but TWO buttons on my one suit. The top jacket button had fallen off, and the pants button was just about there. I know you're thinking "big deal", but I'm pretty happy I was able to do this on my own. I also have a ripped seam in my other suit, and I was going to attempt to fix it. However, I had a quick realization that I'm neither a tailor nor a seamstress. I'm taking it to the dry cleaners tomorrow. They'll fix and clean it for less than $20. That's worth the cost. And it needs to be cleaned anyway.
"You know that they're pretty much essential, right? They draw out the moisture and return the shape to the shoe, elongating the life of the shoe." I say to him
"Yeah, but I just never liked them."
Blasphemy from a man who knows how to dress. Blasphemy, I tell you!
By the way, ALWAYS make sure you have enough shoe trees for each of your shoes. Other than the 2 benefits I mentioned before, it keeps the shoe smelling quite nice. I actually like the smell of cedar, so take that as you will.
Today's task, on the continuation of this, was to ask a girl out. As I don't have any prospects right now, I'm taking a rain check on this one. But once I find a girl that piques my interest, I'm going to jump on the ask-out train.
I, for the first time, was able to fix not one, but TWO buttons on my one suit. The top jacket button had fallen off, and the pants button was just about there. I know you're thinking "big deal", but I'm pretty happy I was able to do this on my own. I also have a ripped seam in my other suit, and I was going to attempt to fix it. However, I had a quick realization that I'm neither a tailor nor a seamstress. I'm taking it to the dry cleaners tomorrow. They'll fix and clean it for less than $20. That's worth the cost. And it needs to be cleaned anyway.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Journaling
As some of you may or may not know, I've been doing a challenge for the past week, courtesy of The Art Of Manliness called 30 Days to a Better Man. This includes small tasks, such as shining your shoes, and some not-so-small tasks, like finding your gratitude. Today's task is to start a journal.
Now, I know what you're thinking: I've already had this blog, or journal in this case. If only it were so easy. I need to keep up with it everyday. That is not a typo. Every. Day. And I'm just supposed to write about how my day went. I'll have to leave details of work out, but other than that, I can write about whatever comes to mind. Today, it just so happens to be shoes.
As I've been doing everyday, I was reading an article on Art of Manliness about the importance of having multiple pairs of shoes. Being the typical guy that I am, I really only had 3 pairs of shoes: dress shoes that I also used for work every day, a pair of sneakers, and a pair of flip flops. That's it. I dealt with all the seasons in with just those 3. In that article, it mentioned how you can seriously hurt the quality of the shoe if you wear them more than 2 days in a row, and you don't use cedar shoe trees in them. The shoe trees absorb the moisture from the day, and help retain the shape of the shoe. My current shoes aren't that old, but they are clearly showing wear. I figured I should listen to the article.
Another article there that I happened across last night mentioned the importance of casual shoes. They weren't talking about sneakers. These are shoes that look as great with jeans as they do with more dressy pants, excluding suits. And being that we wear jeans to work every other Friday and every Saturday, it was probably a good time to invest in some casual shoes. I went to DSW to pick them both up after work.
I went right for the dress shoe aisle. The one pair that caught my eye the most were a relatively low cost pair of Giorgio Brutini's. The pair I already had were Perry Ellis; I didn't want a rehash. I wanted similar, but not the exact same. If you're going to have multiple of something, why not throw a little change up? Since they were relatively priced, I tried them on. They were fit great and were comfortable, and with the amount of walking I do at work, that was definitely needed. I picked them up. The next task was to find a pair of casual shoes.
This was a task that I thought was going to take at least an hour. I knew I wanted a muted color, something that would compliment the outfit, but not overpower it. I did not want black shoes, however. My dress shoes are black. I wanted something different. Brown, tan, navy blue. Somewhere in that range. I just figured that it would be a task that would take some time. I was wrong.
Because of where I chose to sit, I ended up facing the casual shoes when trying on my dress shoes. Just after I was done boxing up the shoes, I looked up, and right there at the end of the aisle was a pair of Bass & Co saddle shoes. Tan suede paired with brown leather. These were the perfect shoes that I was looking for. Luckily, they had a pair each in the sizes that fit my feet (some shoes run a 10.5, others an 11). I, again, grabbed these. The next task were the belts.
Like any good man of fashion, your belt should always match the shoes you wear. I've known this for years, so I always only had a black belt (my sneakers are black too). I had to get at least one more belt. Finding a belt to match the saddle shoes, however, was a much more difficult task than I had realized. I couldn't find a tan belt to match the suede. The hue was off by just a little bit. I did find a belt to match the brown, but it was a bit too big. I had to punch a hole in the belt when I got home. -- SIDE BAR -- If you stuck between two belt sizes, ALWAYS get the larger belt. You can punch always punch a hole in a belt that's too big. -- END SIDE BAR --. I would have just stuck with the belt for the black shoes, but I found a low cost one that matched the black shoes. So I just grabbed it. And don't worry. I also got the shoe trees.
If you haven't been able to tell from this post, I'm trying to build a quality wardrobe that will last. I'm about 2/3rds of the way there. There are some items that I do want to replace, due to damage and poor quality. But I'm good with what I have for now. I have set aside a budget each month ($100) that flows month to month, so if I don't spend the $100 this month, I have $200 next. I don't know what I'm going to get next, but it's definitely a push in the right direction.
Now, I know what you're thinking: I've already had this blog, or journal in this case. If only it were so easy. I need to keep up with it everyday. That is not a typo. Every. Day. And I'm just supposed to write about how my day went. I'll have to leave details of work out, but other than that, I can write about whatever comes to mind. Today, it just so happens to be shoes.
As I've been doing everyday, I was reading an article on Art of Manliness about the importance of having multiple pairs of shoes. Being the typical guy that I am, I really only had 3 pairs of shoes: dress shoes that I also used for work every day, a pair of sneakers, and a pair of flip flops. That's it. I dealt with all the seasons in with just those 3. In that article, it mentioned how you can seriously hurt the quality of the shoe if you wear them more than 2 days in a row, and you don't use cedar shoe trees in them. The shoe trees absorb the moisture from the day, and help retain the shape of the shoe. My current shoes aren't that old, but they are clearly showing wear. I figured I should listen to the article.
Another article there that I happened across last night mentioned the importance of casual shoes. They weren't talking about sneakers. These are shoes that look as great with jeans as they do with more dressy pants, excluding suits. And being that we wear jeans to work every other Friday and every Saturday, it was probably a good time to invest in some casual shoes. I went to DSW to pick them both up after work.
I went right for the dress shoe aisle. The one pair that caught my eye the most were a relatively low cost pair of Giorgio Brutini's. The pair I already had were Perry Ellis; I didn't want a rehash. I wanted similar, but not the exact same. If you're going to have multiple of something, why not throw a little change up? Since they were relatively priced, I tried them on. They were fit great and were comfortable, and with the amount of walking I do at work, that was definitely needed. I picked them up. The next task was to find a pair of casual shoes.
This was a task that I thought was going to take at least an hour. I knew I wanted a muted color, something that would compliment the outfit, but not overpower it. I did not want black shoes, however. My dress shoes are black. I wanted something different. Brown, tan, navy blue. Somewhere in that range. I just figured that it would be a task that would take some time. I was wrong.
Because of where I chose to sit, I ended up facing the casual shoes when trying on my dress shoes. Just after I was done boxing up the shoes, I looked up, and right there at the end of the aisle was a pair of Bass & Co saddle shoes. Tan suede paired with brown leather. These were the perfect shoes that I was looking for. Luckily, they had a pair each in the sizes that fit my feet (some shoes run a 10.5, others an 11). I, again, grabbed these. The next task were the belts.
Like any good man of fashion, your belt should always match the shoes you wear. I've known this for years, so I always only had a black belt (my sneakers are black too). I had to get at least one more belt. Finding a belt to match the saddle shoes, however, was a much more difficult task than I had realized. I couldn't find a tan belt to match the suede. The hue was off by just a little bit. I did find a belt to match the brown, but it was a bit too big. I had to punch a hole in the belt when I got home. -- SIDE BAR -- If you stuck between two belt sizes, ALWAYS get the larger belt. You can punch always punch a hole in a belt that's too big. -- END SIDE BAR --. I would have just stuck with the belt for the black shoes, but I found a low cost one that matched the black shoes. So I just grabbed it. And don't worry. I also got the shoe trees.
If you haven't been able to tell from this post, I'm trying to build a quality wardrobe that will last. I'm about 2/3rds of the way there. There are some items that I do want to replace, due to damage and poor quality. But I'm good with what I have for now. I have set aside a budget each month ($100) that flows month to month, so if I don't spend the $100 this month, I have $200 next. I don't know what I'm going to get next, but it's definitely a push in the right direction.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
5 Cover Songs Infinitely Better Than The Original
N.S.F.M.
Have you ever heard a bad cover song? I know I have. Phil Collins cover of True Colors comes to mind. You'll find none of that here. I also don't want to hear any type of argument as to a song I missed. This isn't about the best cover songs of all time. This is about covers that are so much better than the original because they either suck, or the cover artist just rocks them so much better.
5) Simple Man
This song, originally done by Lynyrd Skynyrd (no vowels), is was written just after Ronnie Van Zant's grandmother and Gary Rossington's mother both passed away. They were one day just reminiscing about everything both women meant to them, and the song just came to life.
Covering Artist:
Shinedown
Why It's Roxxx:
Solo.
Nevermind the fact that Brent Smith probably didn't take a breath for the 8 minute duration of the cover. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, beats the sound you get when a man sits down with an acoustic six string and just goes at it. Electric may sound cool, but you don't get the feeling deep down inside that you do with acoustic. Besides that, Smith does sing better than Van Zant, so he's got that going for him, which is nice.
4) I Will Survive
For those who have never heard this song, Gloria Gaynor sang this. It's about a tumultuous relationship. You know, the on-again-off-again sort. Well, she finally had enough, and decided that he wasn't coming back. And that she will, indeed, survive.
Covering Artist:
Cake
Why It Roxxx:
Disco. Or, namely, the lack there of.
You know what's made up? Disco. Basically, the entire back story to the disco you know and love is fabricated. A reporter had to make a deadline. The best way to do that is to just bullshit your way to the top. And that's exactly how he did. Real discos were basically the equivalent to gay orgies lubricated with acid mixed with rave music. Seriously. Look that shit up. I'm not saying disco sucks because of that. I'm saying that disco sucks because it's made up. And Cake's version has none of that. Oh, and with the substitution of "I should have changed my fucking lock" for "I should have changed that stupid lock", this one wins out. Plus Gaynor hates Cake's version for this line, which makes it so much better.
3) King of Wishful Thinking
Oh, the lovely world of late 80's, early 90's one hit wonders for movies. This "classic" song by Go West was featured in Pretty Woman. It was actually the title song. You know what artist would have made more sense for the title song? The one that Henry Winkler got tattooed on his ass. But I digress. On we go!
Covering Artist:
New Found Glory
Why It Roxxx:
No Air Play/Rock
New Found Glory is known for their covers. They have had a few hits that were originals, but they've made two albums completely from covers. This song is on the second album, and can be heard here. And don't you even dare to tell me I'm wrong.
2) I Heard It Through The Grapevine
Contrary to popular belief, this song was originally recorded by Smokey Robinson. No shit. Don't believe me? Owned.
Covering Artist:
Marvin Gaye
Why It Roxxx:
It's Marvin Fucking Gaye.
This is the best cover song. Ever. Don't even argue it, I'll win.
1) All Along The Watchtower
Bob Dylan recorded this song in 1967. It was only really ok, and should have been killed with fire. And then, we had...
Covering Artist:
Jimi Hendrix
Why It Roxxx:
Bob Dylan
You know your version is pretty bad ass when the original artist says your version is better than his. Bob "Everybody Must Get Stoned" Dylan loved Hendrix' version of Watchtower so much, he actually loved it more than his own. True story, bro. Read.
BONUS
Super Bass
Some of my readers will know the name Nikki Minaj. She sucks. If she were to die tomorrow, I'd be investigated for murder. She's awful. She makes Missy Elliot look good.
Covering Artist:
Karmin
Why It Roxxx:
Amy Heidemann
For those that don't know, Amy's the lead vocal for Karmin. She also plays guitar. You'll notice that Nikki neither sings (well) nor plays guitar in her version. Which is why Karmin's is so much better. Check it out here and you'll see what I mean. If she weren't engaged to Nick, I'd try my fucking hardest to get her attention. Tis life sometimes.
Have you ever heard a bad cover song? I know I have. Phil Collins cover of True Colors comes to mind. You'll find none of that here. I also don't want to hear any type of argument as to a song I missed. This isn't about the best cover songs of all time. This is about covers that are so much better than the original because they either suck, or the cover artist just rocks them so much better.
5) Simple Man
This song, originally done by Lynyrd Skynyrd (no vowels), is was written just after Ronnie Van Zant's grandmother and Gary Rossington's mother both passed away. They were one day just reminiscing about everything both women meant to them, and the song just came to life.
Covering Artist:
Shinedown
Why It's Roxxx:
Solo.
Nevermind the fact that Brent Smith probably didn't take a breath for the 8 minute duration of the cover. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, beats the sound you get when a man sits down with an acoustic six string and just goes at it. Electric may sound cool, but you don't get the feeling deep down inside that you do with acoustic. Besides that, Smith does sing better than Van Zant, so he's got that going for him, which is nice.
4) I Will Survive
For those who have never heard this song, Gloria Gaynor sang this. It's about a tumultuous relationship. You know, the on-again-off-again sort. Well, she finally had enough, and decided that he wasn't coming back. And that she will, indeed, survive.
Covering Artist:
Cake
Why It Roxxx:
Disco. Or, namely, the lack there of.
You know what's made up? Disco. Basically, the entire back story to the disco you know and love is fabricated. A reporter had to make a deadline. The best way to do that is to just bullshit your way to the top. And that's exactly how he did. Real discos were basically the equivalent to gay orgies lubricated with acid mixed with rave music. Seriously. Look that shit up. I'm not saying disco sucks because of that. I'm saying that disco sucks because it's made up. And Cake's version has none of that. Oh, and with the substitution of "I should have changed my fucking lock" for "I should have changed that stupid lock", this one wins out. Plus Gaynor hates Cake's version for this line, which makes it so much better.
3) King of Wishful Thinking
Oh, the lovely world of late 80's, early 90's one hit wonders for movies. This "classic" song by Go West was featured in Pretty Woman. It was actually the title song. You know what artist would have made more sense for the title song? The one that Henry Winkler got tattooed on his ass. But I digress. On we go!
Covering Artist:
New Found Glory
Why It Roxxx:
No Air Play/Rock
New Found Glory is known for their covers. They have had a few hits that were originals, but they've made two albums completely from covers. This song is on the second album, and can be heard here. And don't you even dare to tell me I'm wrong.
2) I Heard It Through The Grapevine
Contrary to popular belief, this song was originally recorded by Smokey Robinson. No shit. Don't believe me? Owned.
Covering Artist:
Marvin Gaye
Why It Roxxx:
It's Marvin Fucking Gaye.
This is the best cover song. Ever. Don't even argue it, I'll win.
1) All Along The Watchtower
Bob Dylan recorded this song in 1967. It was only really ok, and should have been killed with fire. And then, we had...
Covering Artist:
Jimi Hendrix
Why It Roxxx:
Bob Dylan
You know your version is pretty bad ass when the original artist says your version is better than his. Bob "Everybody Must Get Stoned" Dylan loved Hendrix' version of Watchtower so much, he actually loved it more than his own. True story, bro. Read.
BONUS
Super Bass
Some of my readers will know the name Nikki Minaj. She sucks. If she were to die tomorrow, I'd be investigated for murder. She's awful. She makes Missy Elliot look good.
Covering Artist:
Karmin
Why It Roxxx:
Amy Heidemann
For those that don't know, Amy's the lead vocal for Karmin. She also plays guitar. You'll notice that Nikki neither sings (well) nor plays guitar in her version. Which is why Karmin's is so much better. Check it out here and you'll see what I mean. If she weren't engaged to Nick, I'd try my fucking hardest to get her attention. Tis life sometimes.
Wow!
Wow, it's been over a year since my last post. Oh, well. Here's a new one.
I'm currently working on my Mazda. I'm upgrading and modifying different things on it. I've grounded the throttle body and took off most of the intake, all of which leads to the air box. Stay tuned for more updates there.
I'm currently writing a book. It's coming slow, but it's still coming along. Stay tuned for more updates on it.
Other than that, I've gotten a few promotions at work since my last update, and am well on my way to a good future there. Again, stay tuned for more updates.
That's all I have for now, so, as I've stated before, stay tuned!
I'm currently working on my Mazda. I'm upgrading and modifying different things on it. I've grounded the throttle body and took off most of the intake, all of which leads to the air box. Stay tuned for more updates there.
I'm currently writing a book. It's coming slow, but it's still coming along. Stay tuned for more updates on it.
Other than that, I've gotten a few promotions at work since my last update, and am well on my way to a good future there. Again, stay tuned for more updates.
That's all I have for now, so, as I've stated before, stay tuned!
Monday, February 28, 2011
Not Your Typical Saturday Night
N.S.F.M
As much as I hate to admit it, my life is pretty lame. I wake up, go to work, come back home, go to sleep. Intermixed in there, I do some P90x, and I hit the bars on Saturday nights, usually with my buddy Sean. Now, as much as I love hanging out with Sean (he is one of my best friends), our nights usually are about the same. We meet up at Tim's, have a few drinks, flirt with the female bartender, close up the place (with usually just us), and head home to get some sleep.
This past Saturday seemed to start off like that, even though we did meet up a little later than we normally do (about 10:15 instead of 7:15). My thoughts were validated with this text message as well:
Sean - Let me know when you get there.
Me - Just got here. Beer pong?
Sean - Sure...
That is a very typical exchange between the two of us. However, when he got through the door, this wasn't:
Me - What's up?
Sean - I'm drunk.
Uh oh.
This never happens. I mean this never happens. We always start at the same time, have pretty intelligent conversations in the process, put some killer tunes on the juke box, and just chill. This night was going to be interesting, to say the least.
Back to Sean being drunk, he told me that he started in King of Prussia and drank his way back to Birdsboro. Starting at 3. And this is why he's late. I also get proof that he's drunk by him climbing the stone facade of Tim's. Granted, he does this for a living, but we he told me that he shimmied up 25 feet between 2 buildings in Phoenixville, that was conformation enough.
I would also like to say that while there were a few cute girls there, the talent sucked overall. This led me to only wanting to know 3 names, and I knew them before we got there: Sean, for obvious reasons, Zook, the guy who was getting me beer, and Mike, who runs the beer pong and is a nice enough guy for me to be decent with him. Pretty much everyone else sucked.
Of course, we started off playing the only two cute girls in beer pong. What did I say to them? Not a fucking word. Because their boyfriends were standing next to the table. And they were both bigger than me. So I kept my mouth shut. I've gotten myself into trouble in similar situations, but just saying "what?". I'm not travelling that path again. Not tonight. Sean isn't able to protect me, like he has in the past. Speaking of, he's usually quite tame, just being his charming self. Tonight, he's playing the distractor. And it worked. We one with only losing 1 cup. And by we, I mean Sean. He hit 5 cups. Which is the norm.
All awhile this game, we had a girl who felt like she needed to be a cheerleader. While she did have the spirit, she did not have the look. Take Kim Kardashian's ass, Pam Anderson's tits, the height of a redwood with the legs to match, John Daly's gut, and Carrot Top's face, and you get this girl. More on her later.
When I go up to ask Zook for another beer, he turns, walks towards the taps without my glass, and says "you know the drill." Well, yes I do. I just didn't think he as going to break it out tonight. I toss him my glass. He fills it up, act like he's going to throw it, which causes all the girls to scoot out of there. I'm a gentleman and laugh at them. While this happens, I say to him "I'm going to toss it from the door next time." His reply "That's what I'm talking about!" I've never seen condescending drunk bitches with a look of fear on their face quite like that. It was a thing of beauty. I did this twice more, and he yelled at me the one time:
Me - [glass thrown left handed underarm]
Zook - What the fuck? Down the middle! You can't throw me a curve!
Baseball references by drunk bartenders. Gotta love 'em.
Anyway, we get back to beer pong. It was double elimination and we got smoked our second game. Because I was carrying us. Because Sean couldn't hit a cup. Which is a theme that carried over.
When it's time for our third game, I ask Mike who we're playing.
Mike - Pinky.
Oh, just fucking great.
Pinky is 4' 8", blazing pink hair, thinks everyone in the bar likes her, with a face that looks like she was hit in the face with a frying pan. She was also annoying. Not a funny annoying either. Just annoying annoying. Earlier, she was asking about stupid rules in beer pong, like "If I throw the ball, and the person swats it away, but it bounces on the table and goes in a cup, how many are taken away?" and "If I get it in the cup their drinking, is it game over?" Just play the game! I don't want to deal with her, but I have to, so fuck it.
We get into the game, and Sean and I each hit a cup. They're also down to their last cup.
Me - We need to rerack, now.
Sean - (to Pinky) Gimme that super straight line. The long dick of the law!
Pinky - (to Mike) Is that even allowed?
Mike - [Blank, empty, "I can't believe you just asked that" stare]
Me - Just fucking rerack it!
And they did, quite angrily. And then I let the magic happen. I hit the 2nd cup, and Sean missed. They both missed. I hit the 4th cup, and Sean misses again. They both missed again. I hit the front cup, and Sean twirls the last cup.
Sean - I always hated a bad rim job.
Classy.
After they miss their last cups...
Me - (to Sean) What are the odds that I'll hit 4 in a row?
Sean - Pretty good, I'd say.
And then I hit it. A 4th cup. See ya, bitch! They were so pissed they didn't even shake hands. What poor sports.
The last game we played was against this kid who had a shot that looked more awkward than a Shaq free throw. The bitch of it is that it actually worked. I couldn't muster enough magic to get to the championship game. We got third on Saturday, losing to both the second and first place teams. I guess if you're going to lose, at least lose to the best.
And if that was the end of the night, it wouldn't be story worthy.
Zook - (of the Amazonian Mongol) I'm trying to get a little nipple action, but she's not budging.
Me - Of that?
Sean - Yes! I want to see something naked tonight!
Oh, boy. I can see it coming.
Sean - If he fails, we're going to Baby Dolls. But, we need to have everyone else come too. If we're going, it's going to be a party.
It appears that "nipple" was the fuel on the fire. Long story short, Zook fails. Miserably. And now, with Mike in charge, he's trying to get Mike to close down early.
Zook - You know, there is a new law in Pa that says last call is 1 on a Saturday.
Mike - Really? Wait, that's bullshit.
Sean feels the need to help out.
Sean - You know, if your uncle was here, he'd allow it.
Mike - Big Tim would be going with you.
Sean - So, why don't you shut down?
Mike - I don't know. I don't want to get into trouble.
And the Visual Ipicac decides it's time for her to leave.
Sean - (to her) This is all your fault! You don't have to make us do this!
We actually end up getting 2 other people to go with us, a couple in their late 30's. They seem like they want to have a good time, but I don't get their names, because at this point in the night, I don't really care all that much. I also get change for the $10 in my pocket to turn it into 1's.
As we walk out the door,
Me - I have 2 rules for my car. (points at Sean) He controls the music, and there's no fucking in my car unless I'm involved.
Dude - What about blowies?
Me - Not unless I'm involved.
Sean - And I can't drive stick.
Anyway, we make it to Baby Dolls. It's 1:30. They close at 2. They want us to pay a cover. We all think it's bullshit. After about 2 minutes of the dude talking to the bouncer, we get in for free.
Me - What did you say to him?
Dude - I just dropped a name of someone he'd know. I work with him.
Me - Ok.
Dude - I can't really go much further than that. Something with a Union. And the mafia.
Me - And you're putting my life at risk?!?!
Well, we're there for 1 second after that exchange, and realize that these girls aren't good enough to look at. These 4 quotes should just about sum it all up.
Sean - I don't even have half a chubby!
Me - (punch myself in the genitals) Yep, nothing.
Sean - [nearly falls over laughing]
Dude - Hey, man. I can get you a lap dance so good it'll make you cum in your pants. It'll only be $20 too. Great deal.
Me - No, man. Have you seen these girls?
Dude - The one's good looking!
Me - Compared to what, Shrek?
Me - I've never been more distracted by anything on Speed Vision in my life.
Me - (to Sean, in the bathroom) I don't really have to go. The stripper coming around wasn't even worth a dollar.
After all that went down, we go back to the bar, and sit down. The second hottest stripper comes over to me, and asks to sit with us. I say sure. After about a 5 minute conversation of me telling her why beer is better, and how she drives to work all the way from Hershey, this is end of the conversation:
Stripper - So, do you want a lap dance?
Me - No, I'm good.
Stripper - Is it because you don't want to pay? I could give it to you for free.
Me - No. I'm just content to sit here and drink my beer.
Stripper - Ok.
Me - But if you want to just chill with us for the rest of the night, we're cool with that.
Stripper - Cool. Let me just go get changed. I'll be back in 2 minutes.
2 minutes goes by, and she sits down at the other corner of the bar.
Me - That stripper thinks she's better than me!
Sean - You want me to go say something to her?
Me - No, she's just a stripper. I won't lose any sleep over it tonight.
And then we leave. Not because we really want to (which we did), but the bouncer comes over and makes us close our tab. At 2:01. What shitty customer service.
Should I have gotten the free lap dance? Probably. It was free after all. Would I have regretted it? Yeah, considering I probably would have stopped at the hospital for a penicillin shot. That wasn't on my priority list to end the night.
The next morning I woke up smelling of bad decisions, regret, and fear. I'm going to try to never go there again.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
A Guide for Women and the Super Bowl
As all of you are well aware, the Super Bowl is at 6:30 tonight. I thought, that since so many of you are going to be paying attention to the internet instead of the game, I'd post a few pointers for you so that you can follow the game, and not bug the guys you're with. This guide is also for gay men who know nothing about sports, and straight men who know nothing about sports, however, if you are part of the latter group, I'm revoking your man card. It's inexcusable.
1) Ben Roethlisberger will rape you.
Ben Roethlisberger, number 7, is the quarterback for the Steelers, the team wearing Black and Gold. He got away with rape this past year. Twice. Don't think he'll let you go.
2) Troy Polamalu will probably cry about his hair getting pulled.
Troy Polamalu, number 43, is a safety for the Steelers. He is a great player. I have respect for him in his playing abilities. However, in the rulebook, it states that if your hair is grown out of the helmet, it is considered part of the outer layer of the uniform, like the jersey, and will be treated as such. Any time he gets an interception, and gets tackled by his hair, he is most surely to complain, because he doesn't seem to understand the rules.
3) Hines Ward plays dirty.
Hines Ward, number 83, is a wide receiver for the Steelers. When ever Roethlisberger throws an interception, Ward will hit a player on the opposite team from the blind side. This is dirty. Watch out for him when Roethlisberger throws up a duck.
4) Brett Keisel and Clay Matthews will kill somebody.
Brett Keisel, number 99 for the Steelers, and Clay Matthews, number 52 for the Packers, are flat out monsters on defense for their respective teams. If they don't put someone in the hospital today, I'll be impressed with the amount of restraint each man controls.
5) Sometimes, men don't understand the rules either.
If it's confusing as to the ruling on the field to you, it might be to us as well. For example, Hines Ward may have just made an amazing catch, and it's ruled incomplete. Greg Jennings, number 85 for the Packers, may have made the same exact amazing catch, but in the end zone, and it's ruled a touchdown. Don't ask us. We don't know either.
6) No cheerleaders.
Apparently, there are only 2 teams in the NFL that don't have cheerleaders. They're both playing today. Go figure. The guys you're with actually will be paying attention to the game.
7) Who to root for?
In this Super Bowl, it's easy. If you're from the Pittsburgh area, root for the Steelers. If you're not, understand that rape is not acceptable, and root for the Packers.
8) When in doubt, watch for the commercials.
If you get frustrated with the game, just watch the commercials. Most years, these are more entertaining than the game itself.
C. D.
1) Ben Roethlisberger will rape you.
Ben Roethlisberger, number 7, is the quarterback for the Steelers, the team wearing Black and Gold. He got away with rape this past year. Twice. Don't think he'll let you go.
2) Troy Polamalu will probably cry about his hair getting pulled.
Troy Polamalu, number 43, is a safety for the Steelers. He is a great player. I have respect for him in his playing abilities. However, in the rulebook, it states that if your hair is grown out of the helmet, it is considered part of the outer layer of the uniform, like the jersey, and will be treated as such. Any time he gets an interception, and gets tackled by his hair, he is most surely to complain, because he doesn't seem to understand the rules.
3) Hines Ward plays dirty.
Hines Ward, number 83, is a wide receiver for the Steelers. When ever Roethlisberger throws an interception, Ward will hit a player on the opposite team from the blind side. This is dirty. Watch out for him when Roethlisberger throws up a duck.
4) Brett Keisel and Clay Matthews will kill somebody.
Brett Keisel, number 99 for the Steelers, and Clay Matthews, number 52 for the Packers, are flat out monsters on defense for their respective teams. If they don't put someone in the hospital today, I'll be impressed with the amount of restraint each man controls.
5) Sometimes, men don't understand the rules either.
If it's confusing as to the ruling on the field to you, it might be to us as well. For example, Hines Ward may have just made an amazing catch, and it's ruled incomplete. Greg Jennings, number 85 for the Packers, may have made the same exact amazing catch, but in the end zone, and it's ruled a touchdown. Don't ask us. We don't know either.
6) No cheerleaders.
Apparently, there are only 2 teams in the NFL that don't have cheerleaders. They're both playing today. Go figure. The guys you're with actually will be paying attention to the game.
7) Who to root for?
In this Super Bowl, it's easy. If you're from the Pittsburgh area, root for the Steelers. If you're not, understand that rape is not acceptable, and root for the Packers.
8) When in doubt, watch for the commercials.
If you get frustrated with the game, just watch the commercials. Most years, these are more entertaining than the game itself.
C. D.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
2011 Goals
Taking a cue from my sister's blog, I've decided goals for 2011 would be appropriate. I know it's the end of January, but that's just me. I didn't see hers until about 30 seconds ago, so I figured what the hell?
1) Average a blog post a week. For those mathematically dumb, that's 52 posts this year. This makes 2. I'm already behind.
2) Go on 2 trips to somewhere I've never been. I know I stole this from my sister, but I'm saying 2 because 1 is already in the works with Sean, Kameleon, and K. I'm thinking another after June, when this one is.
3) Go a full day without saying "No", even sarcastically. I need to let myself go. I'm thinking on that trip. Go with the flow, I say.
4) Get to Philly once a month. I love the city I live near. A lot. And I don't get down there nearly enough. January is done.
5) Get promoted. Once is 99% definite. I'm gunning for twice.
6) Pay off something. I want to get some sort of debt paid off. Anything would be an accomplishment in my eyes.
7) Make 3 new quality friends. There have been a few quality friends come through my life. I'm glad to have them all. But I have 6 that I would say that are of the best. They all should know who they are. 3 is a good number. And when I say new, I don't mean that I met them this year. It could be someone from my past that fell out of touch.
8) Do something I've always been scared to do. Bungee jumping. Sky diving. Cliff diving. I haven't decided yet, but I definitely want to do something like that this year.
Well, 8's been my number since I was 4, so we'll stop there.
C.D.
1) Average a blog post a week. For those mathematically dumb, that's 52 posts this year. This makes 2. I'm already behind.
2) Go on 2 trips to somewhere I've never been. I know I stole this from my sister, but I'm saying 2 because 1 is already in the works with Sean, Kameleon, and K. I'm thinking another after June, when this one is.
3) Go a full day without saying "No", even sarcastically. I need to let myself go. I'm thinking on that trip. Go with the flow, I say.
4) Get to Philly once a month. I love the city I live near. A lot. And I don't get down there nearly enough. January is done.
5) Get promoted. Once is 99% definite. I'm gunning for twice.
6) Pay off something. I want to get some sort of debt paid off. Anything would be an accomplishment in my eyes.
7) Make 3 new quality friends. There have been a few quality friends come through my life. I'm glad to have them all. But I have 6 that I would say that are of the best. They all should know who they are. 3 is a good number. And when I say new, I don't mean that I met them this year. It could be someone from my past that fell out of touch.
8) Do something I've always been scared to do. Bungee jumping. Sky diving. Cliff diving. I haven't decided yet, but I definitely want to do something like that this year.
Well, 8's been my number since I was 4, so we'll stop there.
C.D.
How To Guide for Dealing With Sentient Robots
N.S.F.M.
Robots have been coming along to do some pretty cool stuff lately. No doubt, sometime in the near future, we'll start having robot butlers like they did in the Jetson's. Personally, I'm hoping for before 2030, but that's just me. When that happens, they'll have a "brain". Not the kind in which they are allowed to think for themselves, mind you. But one where you can input a bunch of commands, and get the proper, pre-programmed response. But what happens when they become sentient? This is a prospect that is scary. As fuck.
Name me any robot in any movie that, after becoming sentient (or programmed as such) is not dangerous.
We'll start with the big guns: Star Wars. You might be naming R2-D2 and C-3PO here. Firstly, they are not robots. They're fucking droids. They also can be outfitted with restraining bolts, as shown in the first movie (Episode IV, I know, but it was the first one that Lucas made, and it's not shitty.) They have their movements restricted. But what does R2 do? Tricks Luke into removing it. And goes off on his own. Now, try this on for size: R2 is a killing machine. He's a fucking menace. He's got, as shown in the movies, a cattle prod, jet pack launchers, oil slicks, a hack saw, and a fire extinguisher. You might chalk up the fire extinguisher to something good, but then you realize that there's a good chemical burn from those bad boys. Fuck that.
Next, we'll touch on the next droid you were thinking: Data. Again, droid here. And he actually does become sentient in one of the shitty Star Trek movies (I'm guessing an even numbered one). He inserts the emotion chip. And, in another movie, it malfunctions, and he goes on a murderous rampage against the crew of the Enterprise. I don't need to go on, but he actually kills twice more after this, once in the last 2 movies. So, yeah, bad.
And I'm still not done. I know you're thinking Sonny from I, Robot. Fucker killed the CEO of the company. Short Circuit? It's a killing machine manufactured by the army, and it actually takes at least one man hostage. It could have crushed his skull. Bicentenial Man? Any shitty robot movie where Robin Williams is the main character is bad news from the start. He just wanted peace, you say? Fuck that. He's planning his upheaval of society as we know it.
So, the debate is not whether robots will be dangerous or not if they become sentient. They will. The problem is, when we're in the middle of the robot uprising, what do we do? I never thought you'd ask.
Other than kill them, and kill them all, there's not much you can do really. It all starts with destroying anything that could possibly go wrong years in advance. SkyNet from the Terminator movies? Yeah, they should have nuked the facility in the 80's. There's no way that anything good can come of letting robots go.
As far as killing them is concerned, take your pick. You just need to get them in the "brain" we gave them. Grenade up the ass? Fine by me. Shotgun blast to the dome piece? Will work.
Even a kids move (Robots) had bad mojo associated. I'm telling you, get rid of them. All.
C.D.
Robots have been coming along to do some pretty cool stuff lately. No doubt, sometime in the near future, we'll start having robot butlers like they did in the Jetson's. Personally, I'm hoping for before 2030, but that's just me. When that happens, they'll have a "brain". Not the kind in which they are allowed to think for themselves, mind you. But one where you can input a bunch of commands, and get the proper, pre-programmed response. But what happens when they become sentient? This is a prospect that is scary. As fuck.
Name me any robot in any movie that, after becoming sentient (or programmed as such) is not dangerous.
We'll start with the big guns: Star Wars. You might be naming R2-D2 and C-3PO here. Firstly, they are not robots. They're fucking droids. They also can be outfitted with restraining bolts, as shown in the first movie (Episode IV, I know, but it was the first one that Lucas made, and it's not shitty.) They have their movements restricted. But what does R2 do? Tricks Luke into removing it. And goes off on his own. Now, try this on for size: R2 is a killing machine. He's a fucking menace. He's got, as shown in the movies, a cattle prod, jet pack launchers, oil slicks, a hack saw, and a fire extinguisher. You might chalk up the fire extinguisher to something good, but then you realize that there's a good chemical burn from those bad boys. Fuck that.
Next, we'll touch on the next droid you were thinking: Data. Again, droid here. And he actually does become sentient in one of the shitty Star Trek movies (I'm guessing an even numbered one). He inserts the emotion chip. And, in another movie, it malfunctions, and he goes on a murderous rampage against the crew of the Enterprise. I don't need to go on, but he actually kills twice more after this, once in the last 2 movies. So, yeah, bad.
And I'm still not done. I know you're thinking Sonny from I, Robot. Fucker killed the CEO of the company. Short Circuit? It's a killing machine manufactured by the army, and it actually takes at least one man hostage. It could have crushed his skull. Bicentenial Man? Any shitty robot movie where Robin Williams is the main character is bad news from the start. He just wanted peace, you say? Fuck that. He's planning his upheaval of society as we know it.
So, the debate is not whether robots will be dangerous or not if they become sentient. They will. The problem is, when we're in the middle of the robot uprising, what do we do? I never thought you'd ask.
Other than kill them, and kill them all, there's not much you can do really. It all starts with destroying anything that could possibly go wrong years in advance. SkyNet from the Terminator movies? Yeah, they should have nuked the facility in the 80's. There's no way that anything good can come of letting robots go.
As far as killing them is concerned, take your pick. You just need to get them in the "brain" we gave them. Grenade up the ass? Fine by me. Shotgun blast to the dome piece? Will work.
Even a kids move (Robots) had bad mojo associated. I'm telling you, get rid of them. All.
C.D.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Still Kickin'
NSFM
I just wanted to pop on here and let you all know that I'm not dead. There's just not that much excitement going on over here. I do have a vacation coming up in March. I'm planning on heading down to Murfreesboro, TN to visit some cool people. And I also have one, for 2 weeks, coming in June, which I'm using for a road trip with Sean, Kameleon, and K. We're not quite sure where we're going just yet, and won't until we get there, which makes it that much more fun. We're also planning on just camping to keep it cheap. I should smell like a bunch of roses when I get back.
I have, however, created a new Facebook game. Pretty much how it goes is that I post a line from a song as my status, and the first person to guess it correctly gets a drink on yours truly. And, while some of them have been guessed right away, there have been a few that have snuck... snuk... snuk... how the fuck do you spell that word?... sneaked... SNEAKED! I didn't even know that was a word... Anyway, sneaked through for no one. If you want, go ahead and guess. I hold up my end of the bargain.
C.D.
P.S. I just checked with Word. Snuck is actually a word. Mozilla can suck it.
I just wanted to pop on here and let you all know that I'm not dead. There's just not that much excitement going on over here. I do have a vacation coming up in March. I'm planning on heading down to Murfreesboro, TN to visit some cool people. And I also have one, for 2 weeks, coming in June, which I'm using for a road trip with Sean, Kameleon, and K. We're not quite sure where we're going just yet, and won't until we get there, which makes it that much more fun. We're also planning on just camping to keep it cheap. I should smell like a bunch of roses when I get back.
I have, however, created a new Facebook game. Pretty much how it goes is that I post a line from a song as my status, and the first person to guess it correctly gets a drink on yours truly. And, while some of them have been guessed right away, there have been a few that have snuck... snuk... snuk... how the fuck do you spell that word?... sneaked... SNEAKED! I didn't even know that was a word... Anyway, sneaked through for no one. If you want, go ahead and guess. I hold up my end of the bargain.
C.D.
P.S. I just checked with Word. Snuck is actually a word. Mozilla can suck it.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Random Night Out
NSFM
So, my buddy Kameleon and I like to hang out and drink at this one bar called the Audubon Ale House. Unlike Good Ole Days from my 21st birthday story, this place is actually nice. I know 4 of the bartenders well enough to get away with shit most other people can't (i.e.: relentless flirting with the female bartenders). Last night, we went there (yes it's a Monday, but I'm on vacation, so back off) for the Denver-San Diego game. He's from San Diego, so he was enjoying himself at the massacre. However, the night wasn't story worthy, so I just present a bunch of quotes that I can remember:
Me - Did she just say that the Beatles were overrated?
Random Guy - Yeah. She doesn't know what she's talking about.
Kameleon - (about bartender) She clearly was not hired for her brain.
Kameleon - My dad was a defensive coordinator. He told us to keep our head up so that we don't tackle the grass.
Me - I'm sorry, I was distracted. (I wonder what I was looking at)
Me - It's a good thing you told me to come out when you did. I was doing so bad at Black Ops that I probably would have snapped my disc in half had I played one more game.
Kameleon - I'm buying shots for that whole side of the bar. Him, me, Kas, [redacted], De, Other Bartender, Her B/F, Do, Sean. So 7.
Bartender with Assets - (confused look)
Me - 9
Kameleon - Oh, shit. Your right. 9
BWA - (shakes head and walks away)
Friends in Low Places comes on the jukebox.
BWA - (to Random Guy) Did you place this shit?
Me - It was me.
BWA - I used to like this song. I would sing it in my car, and people would think I was crazy. Until they overplayed it in bars and what-not. (starts walking away) It's ok, I still love you, though.
Me - (to Kameleon) Did she say that she loved me?
Kameleon - I think she said she still loved you. I heard it in retrospect.
Me - So, we've been talking here for a while. What's your name?
Random Girl - Christin.
Me - Oh, awesome. That's my mom's name.
Christin - How does she spell it?
Me - With a K.
Christin - Mine's spelled C-H-R-I-S-T-I-N. Like Christine, but without the E. My parents were weird.
C.D.
P.S. - I'm sorry I lied to her, mom. She just really wasn't that bright, and I wanted to screw with her. And thank god she's never seen I Love You, Man.
So, my buddy Kameleon and I like to hang out and drink at this one bar called the Audubon Ale House. Unlike Good Ole Days from my 21st birthday story, this place is actually nice. I know 4 of the bartenders well enough to get away with shit most other people can't (i.e.: relentless flirting with the female bartenders). Last night, we went there (yes it's a Monday, but I'm on vacation, so back off) for the Denver-San Diego game. He's from San Diego, so he was enjoying himself at the massacre. However, the night wasn't story worthy, so I just present a bunch of quotes that I can remember:
Me - Did she just say that the Beatles were overrated?
Random Guy - Yeah. She doesn't know what she's talking about.
Kameleon - (about bartender) She clearly was not hired for her brain.
Kameleon - My dad was a defensive coordinator. He told us to keep our head up so that we don't tackle the grass.
Me - I'm sorry, I was distracted. (I wonder what I was looking at)
Me - It's a good thing you told me to come out when you did. I was doing so bad at Black Ops that I probably would have snapped my disc in half had I played one more game.
Kameleon - I'm buying shots for that whole side of the bar. Him, me, Kas, [redacted], De, Other Bartender, Her B/F, Do, Sean. So 7.
Bartender with Assets - (confused look)
Me - 9
Kameleon - Oh, shit. Your right. 9
BWA - (shakes head and walks away)
Friends in Low Places comes on the jukebox.
BWA - (to Random Guy) Did you place this shit?
Me - It was me.
BWA - I used to like this song. I would sing it in my car, and people would think I was crazy. Until they overplayed it in bars and what-not. (starts walking away) It's ok, I still love you, though.
Me - (to Kameleon) Did she say that she loved me?
Kameleon - I think she said she still loved you. I heard it in retrospect.
Me - So, we've been talking here for a while. What's your name?
Random Girl - Christin.
Me - Oh, awesome. That's my mom's name.
Christin - How does she spell it?
Me - With a K.
Christin - Mine's spelled C-H-R-I-S-T-I-N. Like Christine, but without the E. My parents were weird.
C.D.
P.S. - I'm sorry I lied to her, mom. She just really wasn't that bright, and I wanted to screw with her. And thank god she's never seen I Love You, Man.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
The 21st Birthday Shaming
So, I recently had a conclusion. It was today, in fact. Right as I was getting back from lunch. This is a conclusion that I needed to come to, sooner or later, to take this blog in the direction that I feel that it should head. I need to declare this blog Not Safe For Minors To Read. That's right. I had to say it. As involved in a youth group as I am, I feel it necessary. I want to be a good role model for them, but at the same time, there's some stories that I would like to share that really aren't all that good for them to read. Therefore, in the beginning of those blog posts, I'll have written NSFM (not safe for minors) for various different reasons. Most of them cussing. And that's because, if I want to quote people, I want to do it accurately, and I can't do that without the cussing. Also, I will modifying people's names. I don't want people to be identified without their consent. So, now that that's out there...
NSFM
It's time to write about my 21st birthday.
I would like to preface this story by saying that I suffer from foot-in-mouth syndrome. I have this uncanny habit of saying things that will come back to bite me in the ass later. You'll see what I mean, as illustrated by this story.
I would also like to preface this story by saying that preface is the least manly word you can say without having a vagina.
If you want to know anything about me, it's that in college, I could drink. I could hang with anyone, drinking anything. My Achilles heal is tequila. I was not afraid to let anyone know, especially the week leading up to it. This is an actual conversation:
Me - Don't give me tequila. I will puke.
Guinea - Ok.
Me - I'm fucking serious. Don't do it.
Guinea - Duly noted.
Well, we'll flash forward to my 21st. We decide to go down to Good Ole Days. It's basically a little shit-in-the-hole bar in a college town that specializes in helping college students become alcoholics. The place was decrepit and always smelt like a mixture of stale beer, urine, and vomit. I loved this place.
We got there at about 11 on a Wednesday night. My actual birthday was a Thursday. Standing outside with the bouncer holding my ID, he continuously looked at me, then my ID, then me. And he kept doing this until:
Me - I know. I turn 21 at midnight.
Bouncer - Then come back at midnight.
Foot. In. Mouth. I did get slapped in the back of the head for this. We then went to Naps.
-SIDE BAR-
If you're ever in Bloomsburg, go to Naps and order a chicken cheese steak big mouth. Your heart might explode from the cholesterol coursing through your veins, but at least you'll die happy.
-END SIDE BAR-
A couple slices of pizza were ordered for me, and were placed in front of me with a shit eating grin. I can't remember who got the pizza, but judging by the grin, it was suspicious. I was worried. With good reason. Foreshadowing is a bitch.
We decide to head back to Good Ole Days at 11:30, because fuck that bouncer. He was still there. He looked at us, shook his head, said "If you come in, you're not leaving until after midnight", and let us in.
The group that entered the bar was as follows: Reed, Choate, Kola, Kivs, Guinea, Merz, CB, and Dermes.
I can't remember all the shots in order of how they came, but some of them were your just pour-and-serve (Jager, vodka, rum, etc). I know there was a kamikaze in there somewhere. There were also some shitty ones, like a Prairie Fire. The beers flowed, the shots went down.
There's 3 unspoken rules about turning 21: 1) The person who's birthday it is CANNOT refuse a shot, for any reason; 2) The person who's birthday it is must keep a list of what shots he/she took, in order, to watch that person's handwriting get sloppier and sloppier; and 3) There's always 2 shots purchased: one for the birthday boy, one for the purchaser. Rule #3 will be ignored here.
Since there's 8 guys out with me, and their sense of timing sucks, I kept getting the shots backed up. They kept buying, but they were buying faster than I could consume. I would take a shot, they would buy another, and put it behind the next. One shot that got placed in that mix was a Cement Mixer. I was allowed to not take this one because it had curdled waiting for me to take it. That's how long the wait was. Fucking guys.
I don't remember much of my list, but I do remember a few right in the middle of list:
No. 9 was a Minesweeper. For those who don't know, you get 1 shot of vodka, 1 shot of gin, and 2 shots of water. You're supposed to mix them up, so you don't know what order you're taking the shots, much like the computer game, Minesweeper. For maximum effectiveness, you should have at least 3 people mix them up. We did that. I mixed it up 2nd. As I took them, I got commentary, just judging by the look on my face:
Kola - "Gin... water... Vodka, fuck!... water... You lucky bastard, you got the luckiest combo!"
Not really. The best way to do it is gin, vodka, water, water.
The rest of the memory is 10) 3 Wise Men, 11) Dirty Girl Scout, 12) Red Headed Slut, 13) Purple Haze.
It was 12:15 at this point. Oh, yeah. I didn't mention that before.
So, it's a little after 12:30, and I've already downed 20 shots, and at least 3 beers. I had the list to prove this somewhere, but unfortunately, with the many residential moves I've made in the past years, I've misplaced the list. There's empty shot glasses and pitchers strewn across the table. And over walks Guinea with shot number 21.
Me - What is this?
Guinea - Just take it, you pussy.
Me - (slams shot) What the FUCK was that?
Guinea - I think you know.
Me - (reaching for a pitcher before he says "you") You mother fu--- BLLLAAAHHHHH!
Remember how I said foot-in-mouth. Well, as I was told in the future, Choate, Kola, Reed, and Guinea all huddled up, and were actually concerned for my safety, since I downed 20 shots in an hour. I called their bluff, and they were legitimately worried. Since it was Guinea's turn to make the purchase, he went for the kill. I was busy with 19 and 20. I didn't see this. You already know what the shot was.
As I'm walking to the bathroom puking in a pitcher from the Cuervo Guinea used to save my life, Kola walked with me so that I wouldn't walk into shit, but mostly so that he could take a piss. As I get into the bathroom, and puke into the toilet, I use my awesomeness to pour the contents of the pitcher into the toilet WHILE I WAS PUKING AND DIDN'T GET SHIT ON ME.
And then it happened. I saw a rainbow come out of my mouth. Purple, then Red, then Green, then Opaque Brown. And then nothing. I just stopped. This baffled Kola. He looked over at me.
Kola - You all right, man?
Me - Yeah. What's next?
That's right. A lot of people do the puke. I manned up and did the fucking rally as well. We went to a few more bars, but every time we left one, a few of the group tapered out. And, at the end of the night, I went home, by myself, and passed out watching SportCenter and eating Ramen at 3:30 in the morning. That's right. The person who's supposed to be unconscious first was the one who lasted the longest. I was the fucking man.
Until the next day, when I tried to wake up for my 11 AM class.
And preceded to go back to sleep. Because I felt like I would have died had I gone.
I then tried to get up for my 3:30. Because I'm retarded or something. I didn't feel up to walking to class, so my buddy, J-Crew McFly, borrowed Kola's car to drive me to class. The problem is that this is early September. It's still hot out. And he has leather seats.
At the time we leave, I only really have a headache. After we get to campus, it's much worse. Screw class, I'm going to the closest bathroom. In the Student Services Center. And I don't have to piss.
Needless to say, I didn't make it to class. It took me over an hour to get back home. Why? Because I stopped at every bench I could find, to sit on and put my head between my knees. And this was only the second worst hangover I've ever had (another story). I got home, and took a 3 hour nap. When I woke up, I was to get to the kitchen and make a Hot Pocket. I was feeling fine enough to go out again, so I did. When I got to the bar, I was greeted at the door with a drink.
D Hard - Drink this.
Me - I'm hungover as shit.
D Hard - I don't care. You said it was your birthday weekend. You're drinking this.
Oh, did I mention I told people that it was my birthday weekend, and if they saw me out and bought me a drink I would drink it? Yeah. Ooops.
Nothing really of note happened throughout the rest of the weekend, but this taught me to think before I talk.
C. D.
NSFM
It's time to write about my 21st birthday.
I would like to preface this story by saying that I suffer from foot-in-mouth syndrome. I have this uncanny habit of saying things that will come back to bite me in the ass later. You'll see what I mean, as illustrated by this story.
I would also like to preface this story by saying that preface is the least manly word you can say without having a vagina.
If you want to know anything about me, it's that in college, I could drink. I could hang with anyone, drinking anything. My Achilles heal is tequila. I was not afraid to let anyone know, especially the week leading up to it. This is an actual conversation:
Me - Don't give me tequila. I will puke.
Guinea - Ok.
Me - I'm fucking serious. Don't do it.
Guinea - Duly noted.
Well, we'll flash forward to my 21st. We decide to go down to Good Ole Days. It's basically a little shit-in-the-hole bar in a college town that specializes in helping college students become alcoholics. The place was decrepit and always smelt like a mixture of stale beer, urine, and vomit. I loved this place.
We got there at about 11 on a Wednesday night. My actual birthday was a Thursday. Standing outside with the bouncer holding my ID, he continuously looked at me, then my ID, then me. And he kept doing this until:
Me - I know. I turn 21 at midnight.
Bouncer - Then come back at midnight.
Foot. In. Mouth. I did get slapped in the back of the head for this. We then went to Naps.
-SIDE BAR-
If you're ever in Bloomsburg, go to Naps and order a chicken cheese steak big mouth. Your heart might explode from the cholesterol coursing through your veins, but at least you'll die happy.
-END SIDE BAR-
A couple slices of pizza were ordered for me, and were placed in front of me with a shit eating grin. I can't remember who got the pizza, but judging by the grin, it was suspicious. I was worried. With good reason. Foreshadowing is a bitch.
We decide to head back to Good Ole Days at 11:30, because fuck that bouncer. He was still there. He looked at us, shook his head, said "If you come in, you're not leaving until after midnight", and let us in.
The group that entered the bar was as follows: Reed, Choate, Kola, Kivs, Guinea, Merz, CB, and Dermes.
I can't remember all the shots in order of how they came, but some of them were your just pour-and-serve (Jager, vodka, rum, etc). I know there was a kamikaze in there somewhere. There were also some shitty ones, like a Prairie Fire. The beers flowed, the shots went down.
There's 3 unspoken rules about turning 21: 1) The person who's birthday it is CANNOT refuse a shot, for any reason; 2) The person who's birthday it is must keep a list of what shots he/she took, in order, to watch that person's handwriting get sloppier and sloppier; and 3) There's always 2 shots purchased: one for the birthday boy, one for the purchaser. Rule #3 will be ignored here.
Since there's 8 guys out with me, and their sense of timing sucks, I kept getting the shots backed up. They kept buying, but they were buying faster than I could consume. I would take a shot, they would buy another, and put it behind the next. One shot that got placed in that mix was a Cement Mixer. I was allowed to not take this one because it had curdled waiting for me to take it. That's how long the wait was. Fucking guys.
I don't remember much of my list, but I do remember a few right in the middle of list:
No. 9 was a Minesweeper. For those who don't know, you get 1 shot of vodka, 1 shot of gin, and 2 shots of water. You're supposed to mix them up, so you don't know what order you're taking the shots, much like the computer game, Minesweeper. For maximum effectiveness, you should have at least 3 people mix them up. We did that. I mixed it up 2nd. As I took them, I got commentary, just judging by the look on my face:
Kola - "Gin... water... Vodka, fuck!... water... You lucky bastard, you got the luckiest combo!"
Not really. The best way to do it is gin, vodka, water, water.
The rest of the memory is 10) 3 Wise Men, 11) Dirty Girl Scout, 12) Red Headed Slut, 13) Purple Haze.
It was 12:15 at this point. Oh, yeah. I didn't mention that before.
So, it's a little after 12:30, and I've already downed 20 shots, and at least 3 beers. I had the list to prove this somewhere, but unfortunately, with the many residential moves I've made in the past years, I've misplaced the list. There's empty shot glasses and pitchers strewn across the table. And over walks Guinea with shot number 21.
Me - What is this?
Guinea - Just take it, you pussy.
Me - (slams shot) What the FUCK was that?
Guinea - I think you know.
Me - (reaching for a pitcher before he says "you") You mother fu--- BLLLAAAHHHHH!
Remember how I said foot-in-mouth. Well, as I was told in the future, Choate, Kola, Reed, and Guinea all huddled up, and were actually concerned for my safety, since I downed 20 shots in an hour. I called their bluff, and they were legitimately worried. Since it was Guinea's turn to make the purchase, he went for the kill. I was busy with 19 and 20. I didn't see this. You already know what the shot was.
As I'm walking to the bathroom puking in a pitcher from the Cuervo Guinea used to save my life, Kola walked with me so that I wouldn't walk into shit, but mostly so that he could take a piss. As I get into the bathroom, and puke into the toilet, I use my awesomeness to pour the contents of the pitcher into the toilet WHILE I WAS PUKING AND DIDN'T GET SHIT ON ME.
And then it happened. I saw a rainbow come out of my mouth. Purple, then Red, then Green, then Opaque Brown. And then nothing. I just stopped. This baffled Kola. He looked over at me.
Kola - You all right, man?
Me - Yeah. What's next?
That's right. A lot of people do the puke. I manned up and did the fucking rally as well. We went to a few more bars, but every time we left one, a few of the group tapered out. And, at the end of the night, I went home, by myself, and passed out watching SportCenter and eating Ramen at 3:30 in the morning. That's right. The person who's supposed to be unconscious first was the one who lasted the longest. I was the fucking man.
Until the next day, when I tried to wake up for my 11 AM class.
And preceded to go back to sleep. Because I felt like I would have died had I gone.
I then tried to get up for my 3:30. Because I'm retarded or something. I didn't feel up to walking to class, so my buddy, J-Crew McFly, borrowed Kola's car to drive me to class. The problem is that this is early September. It's still hot out. And he has leather seats.
At the time we leave, I only really have a headache. After we get to campus, it's much worse. Screw class, I'm going to the closest bathroom. In the Student Services Center. And I don't have to piss.
Needless to say, I didn't make it to class. It took me over an hour to get back home. Why? Because I stopped at every bench I could find, to sit on and put my head between my knees. And this was only the second worst hangover I've ever had (another story). I got home, and took a 3 hour nap. When I woke up, I was to get to the kitchen and make a Hot Pocket. I was feeling fine enough to go out again, so I did. When I got to the bar, I was greeted at the door with a drink.
D Hard - Drink this.
Me - I'm hungover as shit.
D Hard - I don't care. You said it was your birthday weekend. You're drinking this.
Oh, did I mention I told people that it was my birthday weekend, and if they saw me out and bought me a drink I would drink it? Yeah. Ooops.
Nothing really of note happened throughout the rest of the weekend, but this taught me to think before I talk.
C. D.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
3D in Madden 11
Ok, so I have to start this post off with the notation that I am a gamer. However, I'm not the delusional gamer that most people run across over the internet. I don't own at any single game, but I can hold my own. You know these types.
I'm also going to preface this with a little short story. I signed into Live one night last week, and hooked up in a party with my buddy Choate. We're just talking, shooting the breeze, catching up with each other, and he asks the question, "Did Kola mention anything to you about Madden in 3D?" I was confused at this point, as I hadn't even heard of it at this point. He briefly explained it, and told me I should ask him the next time I played with him. In pops our buddy PJ. I asked him about Kola's love for Madden in 3D, and his response was "Oh, god." But he said it in a deflating way, knowing full well that Kola is acting like a third grader.
Well, in pops Kola later that evening. He starts off with this: "You know, when I sign on, and it says 3 Friends Online, and I notice which three they are, I'm fully tempted to just sign off." Well, after about 3 minutes of insults and the usual with these friends of mine, I had to ask: "Hey, Kola. I haven't heard anything about Madden being in 3D. What's it all about?" He immediately went defensive, because PJ and Choate both chuckled. He said things like "Are you screwing with me?" and his personal favorite "F*ck off."
Well after about 10 minutes of cooling him off, I finally was comfortable enough to start asking more questions, along the lines of "Tell me more about it." He went on to explain that, through Doritos codes, you can turn Madden into a 3D experience. You would just need to get normal 3D glasses, you know the kind that used to look at 3D pictures when you were 9. He did this with the quiet enthusiasm as a kid on Christmas Eve. After he was done, my reaction was "That sounds really, really... Toolish.", although I used a different word. Kola replied with a very angry "F*ck you."
While I did get him good (which is a semi-rare occurrence), I feel it necessary to explain why I think this is an awful idea.
1) You'll Look Like A Tool
It's bad enough that, to communicate over XBox Live you must wear a headset. You may feel like a war general or an NFL coach, but in reality, to people outside of the gaming experience you're having at that moment, you sound like you're arguing with your imaginary friends, and losing. Now throw in some 3D glasses. Now imagine anyone who has any amount of respect for you walks past the room and sees you with glasses on where one side of the frame is red and the other blue. A little piece of them just died because of how stupid you look.
2) You'll Feel Like A Tool
Now that I've brought it up in the point, good luck not feeling like a tool playing the game that way. You're welcome.
3) The Technology Exists.
They have 3D TV's. They have pictures of kindergartners finger paints, that when you look at them with crossed eyes, you see a schooner. The entire world is in 3D. The people in the military have invented a missile that will pinpoint the beard on a goat in Islamabad, Pakistan, and will blow up just the goat and not harm anything, or anyone, else in the process. However, they can't make a game that will be 3D without the help of some spectacles? Screw you, EA!
4) 3D Movies (Usually) Blow
I'm not talking about the plot here. I'm talking about the fact that this is a 2D game, where a 3D element is placed over it in the end, much like most of the 3D movies that have come out. None of them, save a couple (Avatar comes to mind) were filmed or developed with 3D in mind. If you want to read about it, click here, and scroll to the bottom.
In conclusion, Kola, I'm not attacking you. I'm attacking people who get excited over stupid crap. Wait, that's you in this instance. I guess I'm sorry.
I'm also going to preface this with a little short story. I signed into Live one night last week, and hooked up in a party with my buddy Choate. We're just talking, shooting the breeze, catching up with each other, and he asks the question, "Did Kola mention anything to you about Madden in 3D?" I was confused at this point, as I hadn't even heard of it at this point. He briefly explained it, and told me I should ask him the next time I played with him. In pops our buddy PJ. I asked him about Kola's love for Madden in 3D, and his response was "Oh, god." But he said it in a deflating way, knowing full well that Kola is acting like a third grader.
Well, in pops Kola later that evening. He starts off with this: "You know, when I sign on, and it says 3 Friends Online, and I notice which three they are, I'm fully tempted to just sign off." Well, after about 3 minutes of insults and the usual with these friends of mine, I had to ask: "Hey, Kola. I haven't heard anything about Madden being in 3D. What's it all about?" He immediately went defensive, because PJ and Choate both chuckled. He said things like "Are you screwing with me?" and his personal favorite "F*ck off."
Well after about 10 minutes of cooling him off, I finally was comfortable enough to start asking more questions, along the lines of "Tell me more about it." He went on to explain that, through Doritos codes, you can turn Madden into a 3D experience. You would just need to get normal 3D glasses, you know the kind that used to look at 3D pictures when you were 9. He did this with the quiet enthusiasm as a kid on Christmas Eve. After he was done, my reaction was "That sounds really, really... Toolish.", although I used a different word. Kola replied with a very angry "F*ck you."
While I did get him good (which is a semi-rare occurrence), I feel it necessary to explain why I think this is an awful idea.
1) You'll Look Like A Tool
It's bad enough that, to communicate over XBox Live you must wear a headset. You may feel like a war general or an NFL coach, but in reality, to people outside of the gaming experience you're having at that moment, you sound like you're arguing with your imaginary friends, and losing. Now throw in some 3D glasses. Now imagine anyone who has any amount of respect for you walks past the room and sees you with glasses on where one side of the frame is red and the other blue. A little piece of them just died because of how stupid you look.
2) You'll Feel Like A Tool
Now that I've brought it up in the point, good luck not feeling like a tool playing the game that way. You're welcome.
3) The Technology Exists.
They have 3D TV's. They have pictures of kindergartners finger paints, that when you look at them with crossed eyes, you see a schooner. The entire world is in 3D. The people in the military have invented a missile that will pinpoint the beard on a goat in Islamabad, Pakistan, and will blow up just the goat and not harm anything, or anyone, else in the process. However, they can't make a game that will be 3D without the help of some spectacles? Screw you, EA!
4) 3D Movies (Usually) Blow
I'm not talking about the plot here. I'm talking about the fact that this is a 2D game, where a 3D element is placed over it in the end, much like most of the 3D movies that have come out. None of them, save a couple (Avatar comes to mind) were filmed or developed with 3D in mind. If you want to read about it, click here, and scroll to the bottom.
In conclusion, Kola, I'm not attacking you. I'm attacking people who get excited over stupid crap. Wait, that's you in this instance. I guess I'm sorry.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Championships
So, my post the other day got me to thinking about the past championships that Philadelphia has won. There haven't been many recently. In fact, our 4 major sports teams have brought a combined total of 1 championship since 1983 home to the City of Brotherly Love. That's not a misprint. One. That would be the Phillies in 2008, if you forgot. But, as I was thinking about this, our teams have been there a lot recently. The Eagles made the Super Bowl in 2004, and made 5 NFC championships since the turn of the millenium. The Phillies have played in the past 4 NLCS'. The Flyers made the Stanley Cup finals last year. And the Sixers are, well, the Sixers.
But, as I sit here typing this, I can't help but think about all the past teams that have one championships in our great city. All the professional teams that have brought it all home. So, with that being said, I present to you all the professional sports championships that were brought home to Philadelphia. Feel free to thank me later.
1910 - Athletics
1911 - Athletics
1913 - Athletics
1926 - Yellow Jackets
1929 - Athletics
1930 - Athletics
1948 - Eagles
1949 - Eagles
1956 - Warriors
1960 - Eagles
1967 - 76ers
1974 - Flyers
1975 - Flyers
1980 - Phillies
1983 - 76ers
1984 - Stars (USFL)
1985 - Stars (USFL)
1989 - Wings
1990 - Wings
1994 - Wings
1995 - Wings
1998 - Wings
2001 - Wings
2002 - KiXX
2004 - Barrage
2006- Barrage
2007- KiXX
2007 - Barrage
2008 - Soul
2008 - Phillies
As you can see, we're not all that bad. You can yell at me for including lacrosse and soccer, but they are professional teams. And I did check on the A's and the Warriors, they were here in Philly those years. It's a shame we can't get more championships, like those idiots 3 hours north east of here, but you take what you can.
C. D.
But, as I sit here typing this, I can't help but think about all the past teams that have one championships in our great city. All the professional teams that have brought it all home. So, with that being said, I present to you all the professional sports championships that were brought home to Philadelphia. Feel free to thank me later.
1910 - Athletics
1911 - Athletics
1913 - Athletics
1926 - Yellow Jackets
1929 - Athletics
1930 - Athletics
1948 - Eagles
1949 - Eagles
1956 - Warriors
1960 - Eagles
1967 - 76ers
1974 - Flyers
1975 - Flyers
1980 - Phillies
1983 - 76ers
1984 - Stars (USFL)
1985 - Stars (USFL)
1989 - Wings
1990 - Wings
1994 - Wings
1995 - Wings
1998 - Wings
2001 - Wings
2002 - KiXX
2004 - Barrage
2006- Barrage
2007- KiXX
2007 - Barrage
2008 - Soul
2008 - Phillies
As you can see, we're not all that bad. You can yell at me for including lacrosse and soccer, but they are professional teams. And I did check on the A's and the Warriors, they were here in Philly those years. It's a shame we can't get more championships, like those idiots 3 hours north east of here, but you take what you can.
C. D.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Damn Phillies!
All right, so there's been a problem with the Phillies. Obviously, they lost the NLCS this year. Sure, they left the bases loaded with only 1 out. Sure, they couldn't make 2 exhausted pitchers (Bumgarner, then Lincecum) work harder than they needed to. And, sure, Chooch hit into a devastating double play with 2 men on and 1 out. But, what really killed the Phils this season, was the lack of hitting, and namely the strike-outs. Thinking about this last night, and most of the day at work, I've come up with a pretty good solution.
What the management needs to do, in order to get these guys to start hitting, or at the very least swinging, is that for every backwards K that gets tossed up, the player that goes down looking gets fined $1000, 1 K, during the regular season. If it happens during the NLDS, it's $5000. NLCS? $10,000. And the World Series? Jack it up to $50,000.
The reason I'm specifically picking the non-swinging strike-out is how the game ended last night. Howard had a pitch come across the plate just above the knees. It's a 3-2 count, 2 outs, 2 men on, bottom of the 9th, and you're losing by a run. Why wouldn't you swing at that pitch?
Now, your asking what to do with the money. Honestly, I don't care. Reinvest in the team, so you can lower ticket prices. Donate it all to a needy family or charity. Hold a raffle. Give it to a politician. Give it all to the player who has the least called-out-lookings. I really don't care. They need to do something about the Phillies not making contact. This seems as good a solution as any.
C. D.
What the management needs to do, in order to get these guys to start hitting, or at the very least swinging, is that for every backwards K that gets tossed up, the player that goes down looking gets fined $1000, 1 K, during the regular season. If it happens during the NLDS, it's $5000. NLCS? $10,000. And the World Series? Jack it up to $50,000.
The reason I'm specifically picking the non-swinging strike-out is how the game ended last night. Howard had a pitch come across the plate just above the knees. It's a 3-2 count, 2 outs, 2 men on, bottom of the 9th, and you're losing by a run. Why wouldn't you swing at that pitch?
Now, your asking what to do with the money. Honestly, I don't care. Reinvest in the team, so you can lower ticket prices. Donate it all to a needy family or charity. Hold a raffle. Give it to a politician. Give it all to the player who has the least called-out-lookings. I really don't care. They need to do something about the Phillies not making contact. This seems as good a solution as any.
C. D.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Oh, My
So, yeah. Oh my god. Where the hell have I been? I guess, now, I'm forced to tell you!
Well, it goes a little like this: I switched jobs. Yes, Panera really wasn't working out. I was working the oddest shift (noon until 10). I know. I said earlier that I really like that shift, but it was getting old, really fast. So, I went with a company that offered me a better deal: TD Bank. And, here's my daily schedule: wake up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, go to sleep. There's some intermittent changes in there. But, for the most part, it's a lot of working.
Well, I was going to watch some 24 on my Netflix (I'm currently in season 4, on episode 9), but for some reason it's not working. Just popped in Knocked Up, so I'm gone!
C.D.
Well, it goes a little like this: I switched jobs. Yes, Panera really wasn't working out. I was working the oddest shift (noon until 10). I know. I said earlier that I really like that shift, but it was getting old, really fast. So, I went with a company that offered me a better deal: TD Bank. And, here's my daily schedule: wake up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, go to sleep. There's some intermittent changes in there. But, for the most part, it's a lot of working.
Well, I was going to watch some 24 on my Netflix (I'm currently in season 4, on episode 9), but for some reason it's not working. Just popped in Knocked Up, so I'm gone!
C.D.
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