When it is raining and I have already put in over 60 hours of work during the week, it is very hard to get motivated to do anything. I have been sitting here at my computer, with no shirt (that would have required extra work), and I think I have looked at every possible article related to fantasy baseball I could find. If the internet could communicate back, I imagine it would send me to a site that said, "Get up and do something, you lazy sack of shit."
That just reminded me of a funny T-shirt I want to make for myself. On the front, it will have a cartoon picture of a person's head with one of those cartoon bubbles for thoughts above it. In the bubble will be a picture of a man holding a brown turd with a bow on it. Then on the back it will simply say, "This is you thinking I give a shit." Makes me laugh when I think about it.
Perhaps if I had that shirt, I'd be motivated to put it on.
If anyone else is interested in owning this shirt, please email me at jakpot1277@hotmail.com, with the subject, 'Give a Shit Shirt.' If enough people are interested, I think I may take the idea to the people that make my work shirts. Not sure what it'll cost.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Fuzzy Memories: $100,000 Baby
During my junior year in college, our football team was running a contest during halftime. Since it was Davidson's 100th year of football, they were giving away a chance at $100,000 for one lucky fan every home game. The way you could win said $100,000, was to first get selected to attempt the $100,000 toss, then you had to make the $100,000 toss.
And what is the $100,000 toss: Only the most impossible throw thought up...well maybe not, but close. You had to throw a football 25 yards through a hole which couldn't be more than the width of the football plus like a centimeter. I'm not kidding, my friends were in charge of the contest (more on that later) and they were joking around just trying to push the ball through the hole, and missed.
Well, I'm sure you already know that I didn't win $100,000 or I wouldn't be writing a blog about my not-so-spectacular life, but the story's still good, so let's continue.
It's Parents Weekend and my parents and both my brothers have come to visit for the weekend. This is probably like the 3rd or 4th home game and since it's college football, there's only 5 total. The contestants who threw in the first games really sucked and no one had even hit the board, let alone gotten the crowd fired up by nearly winning...so the guy running the contest was hoping to make it a bit more exciting since we actually had a big crowd for once (parents always get sucked into going to the game and paying for low quality football...as if $24,000 a year wasn't bleeding them enough.)
Anyway, as I mentioned a good number of my friends worked the games as ushers and were therefore in charge of this game. When the head guy mentioned this, they immediately came and found me to ask if I wanted to do it. You see, though I'm no Dan Marino or even Dan Wuerffel, this was what I was meant to do. I used to play UBQB a Montgomery Mall throughout high school, and I even painted "88" on a tree and practiced throwing the ball at it, I was prepared, and I was ready.
At first, I was a bit nervous about the whole thing, but when halftime came around and they called my name as the "randomly" selected contestant, I was locked in. I walked out to mid field and they placed the board at the 25 yard line. The guy running the show went over the rules and handed me a ball. Anyone else would have probably been real intimidated by the crowd, being in front of your parents and your classmates, and looking like a dumbass if you throw a bad pass, but all I was thinking about...no kidding...was that the guy said, "Don't cross the 50 yard line or the pass doesn't count."
What? How much would that suck if you actually made the impossible toss even from 24 1/2 yards and they didn't give you the $100K. I'd be so pissed. That would be quite possibly the worst thing in the world. That's like always choosing the same 5 numbers in the lottery every day, then taking a day off when they actually get picked. Or like raaiiin on your wedding day, a freeeee riiide...what the fuck. Anyway, my mind wandered, I reeled back and winged the ball at the board.
Needless to say, I didn't throw a sissy ball like all the people before me. I still remember the sound of the ball thudding off the wood. It was loud. I threw the shit out of that ball. Perfect spiral. Looking good. Fading low and to the right...missed it by like 4 feet. Flew back almost 15 yards. Still a silly throw. The crowd was psyched, my friends were psyched, the joy faded, and I was still poor. But I have a picture to remind me of what could have been.
And what is the $100,000 toss: Only the most impossible throw thought up...well maybe not, but close. You had to throw a football 25 yards through a hole which couldn't be more than the width of the football plus like a centimeter. I'm not kidding, my friends were in charge of the contest (more on that later) and they were joking around just trying to push the ball through the hole, and missed.
Well, I'm sure you already know that I didn't win $100,000 or I wouldn't be writing a blog about my not-so-spectacular life, but the story's still good, so let's continue.
It's Parents Weekend and my parents and both my brothers have come to visit for the weekend. This is probably like the 3rd or 4th home game and since it's college football, there's only 5 total. The contestants who threw in the first games really sucked and no one had even hit the board, let alone gotten the crowd fired up by nearly winning...so the guy running the contest was hoping to make it a bit more exciting since we actually had a big crowd for once (parents always get sucked into going to the game and paying for low quality football...as if $24,000 a year wasn't bleeding them enough.)
Anyway, as I mentioned a good number of my friends worked the games as ushers and were therefore in charge of this game. When the head guy mentioned this, they immediately came and found me to ask if I wanted to do it. You see, though I'm no Dan Marino or even Dan Wuerffel, this was what I was meant to do. I used to play UBQB a Montgomery Mall throughout high school, and I even painted "88" on a tree and practiced throwing the ball at it, I was prepared, and I was ready.
At first, I was a bit nervous about the whole thing, but when halftime came around and they called my name as the "randomly" selected contestant, I was locked in. I walked out to mid field and they placed the board at the 25 yard line. The guy running the show went over the rules and handed me a ball. Anyone else would have probably been real intimidated by the crowd, being in front of your parents and your classmates, and looking like a dumbass if you throw a bad pass, but all I was thinking about...no kidding...was that the guy said, "Don't cross the 50 yard line or the pass doesn't count."
What? How much would that suck if you actually made the impossible toss even from 24 1/2 yards and they didn't give you the $100K. I'd be so pissed. That would be quite possibly the worst thing in the world. That's like always choosing the same 5 numbers in the lottery every day, then taking a day off when they actually get picked. Or like raaiiin on your wedding day, a freeeee riiide...what the fuck. Anyway, my mind wandered, I reeled back and winged the ball at the board.
Needless to say, I didn't throw a sissy ball like all the people before me. I still remember the sound of the ball thudding off the wood. It was loud. I threw the shit out of that ball. Perfect spiral. Looking good. Fading low and to the right...missed it by like 4 feet. Flew back almost 15 yards. Still a silly throw. The crowd was psyched, my friends were psyched, the joy faded, and I was still poor. But I have a picture to remind me of what could have been.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Skins Draft
I'm not in the mood to type anything much tonight, just wanted to make these comments about the Redskins' draft on Saturday.
-Though Mike Williams would have seemed like a logical pick with the first pick, I'd have to say the Redskins success in drafting CBs with the first pick is much higher than that of WRs. Smoot and Champ vs. Westbrook, Howard, and Gardner. I like our chances.
-Considering the Redskins will probably suck really bad this year and give Denver a top 5 pick in next year's draft as a result...Campbell better be starting next year and he better take us to the Super Bowl in 2007.
And here's one other possiblity: Dan Snyder is a moron (obviously) and felt that Gibbs needed any combination of a guy named Rogers and a black QB that wears #17 in order for the Redskins to be good again.
-Though Mike Williams would have seemed like a logical pick with the first pick, I'd have to say the Redskins success in drafting CBs with the first pick is much higher than that of WRs. Smoot and Champ vs. Westbrook, Howard, and Gardner. I like our chances.
-Considering the Redskins will probably suck really bad this year and give Denver a top 5 pick in next year's draft as a result...Campbell better be starting next year and he better take us to the Super Bowl in 2007.
And here's one other possiblity: Dan Snyder is a moron (obviously) and felt that Gibbs needed any combination of a guy named Rogers and a black QB that wears #17 in order for the Redskins to be good again.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Top 10: No Woman, No Cry
For my first weekly Top 10 list, I present to you:
The Top 10 Things No Woman Wants to Hear
10) "I'm going out drinking with my buddies tonight."
9) "I'm going to Las Vegas with my buddies, leaving tonight."
8) "The NCAA tournament starts today, I'll be in the basement watching TV for the next four days."
7) "Yes, that does make you look fat."
6) "Uh oh, I think it broke."
5) "My old girlfriend is coming to visit." (any reference to old girlfriend would probably do, but this would have to be the tops)
4) "It's not going to suck itself." (saw this on a shirt, classy)
3) "Cooking and cleaning isn't my job."
2) "A ring...that's a good one. Ha."
1) "Baby, Ron Mexico is just a name I use every now and then."
The Top 10 Things No Woman Wants to Hear
10) "I'm going out drinking with my buddies tonight."
9) "I'm going to Las Vegas with my buddies, leaving tonight."
8) "The NCAA tournament starts today, I'll be in the basement watching TV for the next four days."
7) "Yes, that does make you look fat."
6) "Uh oh, I think it broke."
5) "My old girlfriend is coming to visit." (any reference to old girlfriend would probably do, but this would have to be the tops)
4) "It's not going to suck itself." (saw this on a shirt, classy)
3) "Cooking and cleaning isn't my job."
2) "A ring...that's a good one. Ha."
1) "Baby, Ron Mexico is just a name I use every now and then."
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Keep My Head Ringing
Ugh. I feel like shit and am about to go to bed. Started drinking at about 7 pm yesterday with a margarita at Chili's with dinner. Basically, I kept on with that until 3 AM (why did that girl give us a shot at 2:45 AM...who does that!!??) when I finally left Millie & Al's and got the worst empanada ever from Julia's. Since I am poor with clock management, I missed the metro and had to sleep on Zack's couch. Then, I had to get up at 8 AM in order to make it home and over to a pool by 10 AM...the Grand Dragon's of all people, seemed fitting. I have already shat three times and I'm sure one more is on the way, plus my head hurts and my body aches from the dehydration and strain I put on myself this week. The high point of the day, however, was the 45 minute drive I had to make up to Clarksville to meet with a client to discuss their pool.
You see, I make these mix tapes, (actually CDs... and don't mind him, he's Oriental) and the one I decided to throw in for this extraordinary hangover jaunt was my 90's Rap and R&B mix. A solid mix all around, but one song in particular really brightened my day. "Keep Their Heads Ringing" by Dr. Dre. Man, this is one I haven't heard in a while and truly forgot the greatness of Dr. Dre lyrics. Here's a few choice lines for your enjoyment as well, and perhaps you should pull out your "Friday" Soundtrack and give it a listen yourself:
"In a party, I go for your neck so call me Blackula"
"Still, niggaz run up and try to kill at will; but get popped like a pimple, so call me Clearasil"
"When I rock the spot with the flavor I got; I kick plenty of ass, so call me an ass-tronaut"
"When I flow, niggaz know, it's time to take a hike; Cause I grab the mic and flip my tongue like a dyke"
And the best of them all...and I'm not sure this is in all the versions, but it's in mine:
"Just chill, listen to the beats I spill; I use Crest, so ain't no cavity creeps in my grill"
Truly a master rapper.
You see, I make these mix tapes, (actually CDs... and don't mind him, he's Oriental) and the one I decided to throw in for this extraordinary hangover jaunt was my 90's Rap and R&B mix. A solid mix all around, but one song in particular really brightened my day. "Keep Their Heads Ringing" by Dr. Dre. Man, this is one I haven't heard in a while and truly forgot the greatness of Dr. Dre lyrics. Here's a few choice lines for your enjoyment as well, and perhaps you should pull out your "Friday" Soundtrack and give it a listen yourself:
"In a party, I go for your neck so call me Blackula"
"Still, niggaz run up and try to kill at will; but get popped like a pimple, so call me Clearasil"
"When I rock the spot with the flavor I got; I kick plenty of ass, so call me an ass-tronaut"
"When I flow, niggaz know, it's time to take a hike; Cause I grab the mic and flip my tongue like a dyke"
And the best of them all...and I'm not sure this is in all the versions, but it's in mine:
"Just chill, listen to the beats I spill; I use Crest, so ain't no cavity creeps in my grill"
Truly a master rapper.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Brain Farts 1
I can't think of anything in particular to write about, so you will have to enjoy the Brain Farts. Not quite the complete shit you were hoping for, but enjoyable nonetheless.
-I was in Great Falls for a job today and stopped at the Meditteranean place for kabobs (ground beef with rice, like Moby Dick's). There's something odd about eating food that looks like poop.
-I heard that Gwen Stefani song on the radio again today. I don't know what it is that haunts me about that song but when it starts, I must pay attention...and when she spells BANANAS, it literally blows my mind.
-Nomar hurt his groin yesterday and now he's out for like 3 months, maybe more. I find it ironic that he is on my fantasy team...which is named Hurts to Pee.
-Never order Chinese food delivery when you are both hungry and tired. I now have $40 worth of food in my refridgerator that I was too tired to eat by the time the guy brought it yesterday.
-I keep getting comments about how much everyone in the neighborhood loves my red garden. I'm gonna have to call HGTV and get my own show.
-I don't really watch American Idol that much, but I really hate that host. They had a 10 minute segment just about him, and how he got a Hollywood star, during the show Amy was watching on Tivo last night, and it sucked. He may have just creeped onto my top 10 list for things that piss me off. He's like a lame Carson Daly. Are they just giving away these stars to any douchebag? Yeah, he's definitely moved onto the list.
Alright, that's all for now, I'm getting too worked up. Until tomorrow.
-I was in Great Falls for a job today and stopped at the Meditteranean place for kabobs (ground beef with rice, like Moby Dick's). There's something odd about eating food that looks like poop.
-I heard that Gwen Stefani song on the radio again today. I don't know what it is that haunts me about that song but when it starts, I must pay attention...and when she spells BANANAS, it literally blows my mind.
-Nomar hurt his groin yesterday and now he's out for like 3 months, maybe more. I find it ironic that he is on my fantasy team...which is named Hurts to Pee.
-Never order Chinese food delivery when you are both hungry and tired. I now have $40 worth of food in my refridgerator that I was too tired to eat by the time the guy brought it yesterday.
-I keep getting comments about how much everyone in the neighborhood loves my red garden. I'm gonna have to call HGTV and get my own show.
-I don't really watch American Idol that much, but I really hate that host. They had a 10 minute segment just about him, and how he got a Hollywood star, during the show Amy was watching on Tivo last night, and it sucked. He may have just creeped onto my top 10 list for things that piss me off. He's like a lame Carson Daly. Are they just giving away these stars to any douchebag? Yeah, he's definitely moved onto the list.
Alright, that's all for now, I'm getting too worked up. Until tomorrow.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Rec Basketball Playoffs
Monday night was the first game of the playoffs for my rec basketball team. We finished fourth in the league with a record of 4-4, though we really only beat one team worth a damn. It's not that we're bad, which I'm not completely ruling out, but we're definitely the smallest team in the league.
It seems that most of the teams in the league consist of guys who probably played orgainized basketball at some point in their life, probably high school and maybe some from small colleges. Well, usually that means the guys are ranging in size from 6 feet and taller. Now, I'm just about 6 feet tall myself, but I'm also the third tallest guy on my team. Therein lies the problem. We have one guy who is probably 5'2" and two others that are around 5'7". That just doesn't bode well for rebounding. Nonetheless, we have one guy who is 6'7" and that sort of evens things out.
So, the game kicks off and I'm sitting on the bench. I've missed the last two games since I fucked up my thumb the game before that, so I'm fine with not starting. Oh, and the fact that I'm really not that great may have something to do with that as well. Nine minutes into the game, we make our first subs and I enter the game, the team is down by 3.
Things have been going pretty slow for both teams, with neither team really taking control of the game. I stay in the remainder of the half and we pull ahead by one at the half. We're feeling good and our zone defense is working, their shots are off, and I haven't re-injured my hand. I've got 3 points at this point, one on a post-up move and one on a free throw after I got fouled after an offensive rebound. Feeling solid.
I'm sitting to start the second half and things start picking up rapidly. Everyone on our team seems to be hitting shots and they appear to be getting tired. We move up by 18, then drop back to a 14 point lead as some of the guys look to be tiring. We make our subs with 11 minutes left in the game, and we're up by 14...nice.
Unfortunately, one guy on our team (who is probably the worst player on the team) decides he's going to take this opportunity to practice his three point shooting. Looking more like my 10th grade chemistry teacher, Dr. Pax, than John Paxson, we squander our lead and are only up by 6 rather quickly. This is also aided by their new-found ability to drain the 3-ball regardless of where they are on the court.
We re-group and pull the lead back up to 8 with three minutes left and I'm starting to wear down. Thinking fresh legs would be the best for the final stretch, I pull myself out of the game and watch the horror continue from the bench.
Despite the fact that this one guy has drilled four straight trays, we continue to leave him wide open and the lead drops down to 1 with 24 seconds left and they've just called a timeout having the ball.
Apparently, we need to consult the Phil Jackson school of basketball coaching because we stick with our 2-3 zone and allow the mad bomber to plug one more three-ball from pro three land with 6 seconds left.
I don't need to tell you what happened next, as we nearly botch even getting a shot off before bricking our last attempt. What the hell happened? I felt like the Wizards...but we didn't have Kwame around to put the blame on for being a lazy fuck.
Hopefully, the real Wizards will not meet the same fate. At least I've got a week to regroup before the next season starts...when the departure of one of our guys will make me the second tallest guy on the team. Woo hoo.
It seems that most of the teams in the league consist of guys who probably played orgainized basketball at some point in their life, probably high school and maybe some from small colleges. Well, usually that means the guys are ranging in size from 6 feet and taller. Now, I'm just about 6 feet tall myself, but I'm also the third tallest guy on my team. Therein lies the problem. We have one guy who is probably 5'2" and two others that are around 5'7". That just doesn't bode well for rebounding. Nonetheless, we have one guy who is 6'7" and that sort of evens things out.
So, the game kicks off and I'm sitting on the bench. I've missed the last two games since I fucked up my thumb the game before that, so I'm fine with not starting. Oh, and the fact that I'm really not that great may have something to do with that as well. Nine minutes into the game, we make our first subs and I enter the game, the team is down by 3.
Things have been going pretty slow for both teams, with neither team really taking control of the game. I stay in the remainder of the half and we pull ahead by one at the half. We're feeling good and our zone defense is working, their shots are off, and I haven't re-injured my hand. I've got 3 points at this point, one on a post-up move and one on a free throw after I got fouled after an offensive rebound. Feeling solid.
I'm sitting to start the second half and things start picking up rapidly. Everyone on our team seems to be hitting shots and they appear to be getting tired. We move up by 18, then drop back to a 14 point lead as some of the guys look to be tiring. We make our subs with 11 minutes left in the game, and we're up by 14...nice.
Unfortunately, one guy on our team (who is probably the worst player on the team) decides he's going to take this opportunity to practice his three point shooting. Looking more like my 10th grade chemistry teacher, Dr. Pax, than John Paxson, we squander our lead and are only up by 6 rather quickly. This is also aided by their new-found ability to drain the 3-ball regardless of where they are on the court.
We re-group and pull the lead back up to 8 with three minutes left and I'm starting to wear down. Thinking fresh legs would be the best for the final stretch, I pull myself out of the game and watch the horror continue from the bench.
Despite the fact that this one guy has drilled four straight trays, we continue to leave him wide open and the lead drops down to 1 with 24 seconds left and they've just called a timeout having the ball.
Apparently, we need to consult the Phil Jackson school of basketball coaching because we stick with our 2-3 zone and allow the mad bomber to plug one more three-ball from pro three land with 6 seconds left.
I don't need to tell you what happened next, as we nearly botch even getting a shot off before bricking our last attempt. What the hell happened? I felt like the Wizards...but we didn't have Kwame around to put the blame on for being a lazy fuck.
Hopefully, the real Wizards will not meet the same fate. At least I've got a week to regroup before the next season starts...when the departure of one of our guys will make me the second tallest guy on the team. Woo hoo.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Fuzzy Memories: Golf Cart
Since this is my first entry into Fuzzy Memories, I thought I would write about one of my favorites. This one took place during my senior year in college.
I went to a small school, and a somewhat nerdy one at that, so entertainment options were at a minimum. One particularly entertaining late night past time, however, was the driving around of the golfcarts that the college employees used. Most of the time these carts were locked up or unable to be jimmied to start, but on those few classic occassions, you would find a free cart that started right up with a bent fork key.
One particular night, my roommates and I stumbled upon one of these golden horses in a drunken stupor and decided to take it for a cruise. We hit the motherload with this particular cart because it was equipped with doors and a flatbed...classy. Well, we're cruising around, checking out the sites, and decide to take it back onto the cross country trails which were at one edge of the campus. The cross country trails were in the middle of the woods and were relatively narrow, so it made it pretty exciting to cruise around on them in the middle of the night. Of course there are no lights out there...but the cart has lights, so we're all good.
Anyway, here we are, the three of us, squeezed into the front of the cart, me sitting bitch (trust me, that's not a bad thing...just wait) and my two roommates on either side. My roommate, the K man, is driving and of course he's got the pedal to the floor. This makes it much more exciting because at this speed, and with the obvious clarity that comes with a plexiglass windshield and tiny headlights in the darkness of the woods, he can follow the path like Bobby Labonte. Did I mention we're drunk? Well, within a minute or so we hit a sharp left, he sees it a bit too late and overcompensates by pulling the wheel hard to the left.
Woosh...there goes my other roommate, the B man, out the door. Apparently, the doors can't handle about 570 lbs of weight being put on them by three guys turning a corner at 15 mph. Go figure. This is unbelievably hilarious to me and the K man, but B is a bit perturbed to say the least. He stumbles out of the tall grass and gives us the "I'm OK, assholes" salute. No injuries, but now I've been relagated to sitting in the flatbed...mostly because I represent 170 of those 570 lbs and I would lose in a fight for the seat. Oh well, no biggie.
K man gets a little better at driving but then we get a bit bored with simply driving around and all agree that driving the cart over some bumps or into a tree would be more fun. (I said the "school" was a nerdy school, apparently we are at the lower end of the brain spectrum.)
Four crashes later and the cart's not looking so good...we've lost the lights and at this point we're all standing outside the cart trying to figure out why it won't move. Perhaps it is the tree stump sticking into the bottom of the front axle. Luckily, carts don't weigh too much and we lift it up and off the stump. But now we've got a problem.
Now the cart can only do two things...drive at full speed or be shut off. Don't ask me why, I'm not a mechanic, but that's the hand we were dealt so we went with it. Seeing this as a sign that our is coming to an end, we head back in the direction of where we got the cart, behind the main gym of the school. Well, this sits at the top of a hill and as we're heading up the hill, we start to see some lights. Bright lights. But we can't slow down. And then we see what it is. The field lights are on and a bunch of people are doing a charity late night walk or some shit like that. There's no way we can turn the cart around at full speed and we surely can't drive out onto the field all of a sudden and we're approaching this area pretty quickly, so we have to make a decision.
Turn off the engine. Bail out. And run like hell to the other exits from the paths.
But we're on a hill, the top of the hill. And gravity is working against us. We're running like mad down the hill and here comes the cart behind us. I swear I've never run faster, and the loud bang of the cart making its final tree collision let me know I'm safe from getting run over.
All in a good night's work.
I went to a small school, and a somewhat nerdy one at that, so entertainment options were at a minimum. One particularly entertaining late night past time, however, was the driving around of the golfcarts that the college employees used. Most of the time these carts were locked up or unable to be jimmied to start, but on those few classic occassions, you would find a free cart that started right up with a bent fork key.
One particular night, my roommates and I stumbled upon one of these golden horses in a drunken stupor and decided to take it for a cruise. We hit the motherload with this particular cart because it was equipped with doors and a flatbed...classy. Well, we're cruising around, checking out the sites, and decide to take it back onto the cross country trails which were at one edge of the campus. The cross country trails were in the middle of the woods and were relatively narrow, so it made it pretty exciting to cruise around on them in the middle of the night. Of course there are no lights out there...but the cart has lights, so we're all good.
Anyway, here we are, the three of us, squeezed into the front of the cart, me sitting bitch (trust me, that's not a bad thing...just wait) and my two roommates on either side. My roommate, the K man, is driving and of course he's got the pedal to the floor. This makes it much more exciting because at this speed, and with the obvious clarity that comes with a plexiglass windshield and tiny headlights in the darkness of the woods, he can follow the path like Bobby Labonte. Did I mention we're drunk? Well, within a minute or so we hit a sharp left, he sees it a bit too late and overcompensates by pulling the wheel hard to the left.
Woosh...there goes my other roommate, the B man, out the door. Apparently, the doors can't handle about 570 lbs of weight being put on them by three guys turning a corner at 15 mph. Go figure. This is unbelievably hilarious to me and the K man, but B is a bit perturbed to say the least. He stumbles out of the tall grass and gives us the "I'm OK, assholes" salute. No injuries, but now I've been relagated to sitting in the flatbed...mostly because I represent 170 of those 570 lbs and I would lose in a fight for the seat. Oh well, no biggie.
K man gets a little better at driving but then we get a bit bored with simply driving around and all agree that driving the cart over some bumps or into a tree would be more fun. (I said the "school" was a nerdy school, apparently we are at the lower end of the brain spectrum.)
Four crashes later and the cart's not looking so good...we've lost the lights and at this point we're all standing outside the cart trying to figure out why it won't move. Perhaps it is the tree stump sticking into the bottom of the front axle. Luckily, carts don't weigh too much and we lift it up and off the stump. But now we've got a problem.
Now the cart can only do two things...drive at full speed or be shut off. Don't ask me why, I'm not a mechanic, but that's the hand we were dealt so we went with it. Seeing this as a sign that our is coming to an end, we head back in the direction of where we got the cart, behind the main gym of the school. Well, this sits at the top of a hill and as we're heading up the hill, we start to see some lights. Bright lights. But we can't slow down. And then we see what it is. The field lights are on and a bunch of people are doing a charity late night walk or some shit like that. There's no way we can turn the cart around at full speed and we surely can't drive out onto the field all of a sudden and we're approaching this area pretty quickly, so we have to make a decision.
Turn off the engine. Bail out. And run like hell to the other exits from the paths.
But we're on a hill, the top of the hill. And gravity is working against us. We're running like mad down the hill and here comes the cart behind us. I swear I've never run faster, and the loud bang of the cart making its final tree collision let me know I'm safe from getting run over.
All in a good night's work.
Monday, April 18, 2005
Afternoon Delight
Sorry to those of you expecting Bitchsport, Part 2, but I'm trying to block the tragic memory as much as possible and re-writing it this soon after it occurred could give me a breakdown. Perhaps in a short while I will conclude the saga, but for now, I would like to write about my Saturday. My blog, deal with it.
So Saturday rolls around, I have two things I have to do for work in the morning, but then I have the afternoon to myself. As I mentioned, I developed my landscaping greatness last weekend, constructing a retaining wall planter and making my front yard look presentable, as opposed to a mound of dirt. Well, I've gotten several compliments from the neighbors, so apparently I know what I'm doing. Amy helped too, but she's not writing this so I'll indulge myself.
Anyway, the garden is not quite complete as there are several areas that don't have any mulch and apparently when you put grass seed down you should cover it with something to prevent birds from eating the seeds. It's like Stephen King outside some days. So, I have two missions to complete this Saturday afternoon, seems easy enough.
Now, I couldn't go to Home Depot because I'm deathly afraid of the parking lot (see my top 10 lists), so I went to this garden place that's hidden behind a Toys R Us just about a mile from my house. I went there before to get the stones for the retaining walls, and some other stuff and despite their shitty service there, I opted to go back for these simple tasks.
Let me explain why I have dubbed their service "shitty." When Amy and I went there last weekend, we walked around the place for like 1/2 hour looking for someone to help us. All we found was a fat, greasy Italian guy who seemed bent on us buying a Magnolia tree. After we convinced him that we actually wanted a Maple, and that we wanted some stones, he called a Mexican over to load the stones for us, then he disappeared.
So here I am standing with a Mexican guy who speaks only broken English and a pallet of stones that weighs a ton. Luckily he has a small construction vehicle (funny stuff) to move the pallet onto the work truck I am using for this task. Unfortunately, I only wanted a 1/2 pallet and he just put a whole pallet on the truck. So what does he expect me to do...help him remove the top half of the stones and place them on a different pallet. Are you kidding me? Needless to say, I stopped short of the halfway mark and considered the overage my labor charge for 15 minutes of hard labor and went on my way. Should've seen that as a sign and never gone back.
But sure enough, one week later, there I stand, looking for someone to help me get some mulch and hay. As I wait, I notice rolls of sod sitting on a pallet as well. Hmmmm. Sod means grass with no waiting!? I'm pretty impatient (there is a guitar in my spare room that I know how to play three notes on), so this is an intriguing prospect...but I've been sent here to get hay and I've already spent money on fertilizer and grass seed that has feed the bird of my neighborhood nicely. Mulch and hay. Simple.
So finally, this girl tells me I can go pay inside, so I go into the hottest place on earth and tell the Mexican (different one) that I want three bags of mulch and a cube (I don't know what they're called) of hay. He points to a chart that shows like seven different names of mulch, and I'm like, "Normal Mulch." I believe he understands as he rings me up for something, then he moves onto the hay. Utterly confused by what I am saying, he walks me outside and I point at the hay and say, "Hay to go over grass." Apparently, he only understood one word.
"Grass."
"No, hay" (I'm pointing right at it)
"You want grass."
"NO, HAY." (still pointing)
"No want grass" (now he's pointing at the sod)
Is he some sort of Mexican gypsy mindreader? Maybe I did want the grass, subconsciously, and he's helping me make that decision.
"Ok, I'll take the grass. Give me five rolls."
I have no idea if this will cover the area I need, but I'm feeling good about the purchase, as I'm sure he is since it's probably like $20 more than what I really wanted. Mexican Jedi Mind Trick perhaps. Dickin'
So of course, I have to get all this stuff myself. He's seems to speak fine English when he explains that I can grab the sod and get the mulch around back where someone will help me.
I load up the sod, and drive over to the mulch where a man in a Mercedes is waiting as well. I ask him how long he's been there....I'm a veteran at this place. He says 10 minutes at which time I say,
"Well, fuck it. I'm not waiting here any longer" and decide I'll just grab my own mulch.
He concurs and begins grabbing his own shit, and I now realize that the long list of mulch is there for a reason. There are tons of different bags of mulch sitting in piles and I have no idea what I'm supposed to get. I'll be damned if I'm gonna wait, so I just pick one and grab four bags. Did I say four? Labor charge, my friends, labor charge.
I'm feeling pretty solid about the whole exchange, and head on home. I lay down the sod first, which covers all of 1/3 of the area I needed it to. Crap.
Then I move on to the mulch. I tear open a bag and start laying it in the areas where there is no mulch or the existing mulch is thin. Well, after a few pours, I notice something very odd. This mulch looks very red?! Now, I'm color blind so it's tough for me to make this judgment call. It definitely looks different from the rest of the mulch that's down, but maybe it's just because it's fresh. So I pour a bit more, about 3/4 of the bag. OK, it is definitely red. Immediately I call Amy in a panic. She tells me to stop what I'm doing and wait for her to get home. Good, I needed to watch the South Park episode I missed on Tivo.
She gets home about an hour later and confirms that the mulch is indeed red. Great. How do I return something I obviously didn't ask for and that I stole an extra bag of to boot. Fuck it...Red garden. But here's the catch. Since I now have red mulch, that doesn't match the existing mulch, I need to go back and get like 6 more bags of it so everything is the same color.
Definitely something going on with that garden place. Sons of bitches.
Well, now the red garden is complete. You'd think it'd be an eyesore, but already one other neighbor has followed suit and another one came by to say that she's probably going to go get some red mulch as well.
"It's very striking."
So Saturday rolls around, I have two things I have to do for work in the morning, but then I have the afternoon to myself. As I mentioned, I developed my landscaping greatness last weekend, constructing a retaining wall planter and making my front yard look presentable, as opposed to a mound of dirt. Well, I've gotten several compliments from the neighbors, so apparently I know what I'm doing. Amy helped too, but she's not writing this so I'll indulge myself.
Anyway, the garden is not quite complete as there are several areas that don't have any mulch and apparently when you put grass seed down you should cover it with something to prevent birds from eating the seeds. It's like Stephen King outside some days. So, I have two missions to complete this Saturday afternoon, seems easy enough.
Now, I couldn't go to Home Depot because I'm deathly afraid of the parking lot (see my top 10 lists), so I went to this garden place that's hidden behind a Toys R Us just about a mile from my house. I went there before to get the stones for the retaining walls, and some other stuff and despite their shitty service there, I opted to go back for these simple tasks.
Let me explain why I have dubbed their service "shitty." When Amy and I went there last weekend, we walked around the place for like 1/2 hour looking for someone to help us. All we found was a fat, greasy Italian guy who seemed bent on us buying a Magnolia tree. After we convinced him that we actually wanted a Maple, and that we wanted some stones, he called a Mexican over to load the stones for us, then he disappeared.
So here I am standing with a Mexican guy who speaks only broken English and a pallet of stones that weighs a ton. Luckily he has a small construction vehicle (funny stuff) to move the pallet onto the work truck I am using for this task. Unfortunately, I only wanted a 1/2 pallet and he just put a whole pallet on the truck. So what does he expect me to do...help him remove the top half of the stones and place them on a different pallet. Are you kidding me? Needless to say, I stopped short of the halfway mark and considered the overage my labor charge for 15 minutes of hard labor and went on my way. Should've seen that as a sign and never gone back.
But sure enough, one week later, there I stand, looking for someone to help me get some mulch and hay. As I wait, I notice rolls of sod sitting on a pallet as well. Hmmmm. Sod means grass with no waiting!? I'm pretty impatient (there is a guitar in my spare room that I know how to play three notes on), so this is an intriguing prospect...but I've been sent here to get hay and I've already spent money on fertilizer and grass seed that has feed the bird of my neighborhood nicely. Mulch and hay. Simple.
So finally, this girl tells me I can go pay inside, so I go into the hottest place on earth and tell the Mexican (different one) that I want three bags of mulch and a cube (I don't know what they're called) of hay. He points to a chart that shows like seven different names of mulch, and I'm like, "Normal Mulch." I believe he understands as he rings me up for something, then he moves onto the hay. Utterly confused by what I am saying, he walks me outside and I point at the hay and say, "Hay to go over grass." Apparently, he only understood one word.
"Grass."
"No, hay" (I'm pointing right at it)
"You want grass."
"NO, HAY." (still pointing)
"No want grass" (now he's pointing at the sod)
Is he some sort of Mexican gypsy mindreader? Maybe I did want the grass, subconsciously, and he's helping me make that decision.
"Ok, I'll take the grass. Give me five rolls."
I have no idea if this will cover the area I need, but I'm feeling good about the purchase, as I'm sure he is since it's probably like $20 more than what I really wanted. Mexican Jedi Mind Trick perhaps. Dickin'
So of course, I have to get all this stuff myself. He's seems to speak fine English when he explains that I can grab the sod and get the mulch around back where someone will help me.
I load up the sod, and drive over to the mulch where a man in a Mercedes is waiting as well. I ask him how long he's been there....I'm a veteran at this place. He says 10 minutes at which time I say,
"Well, fuck it. I'm not waiting here any longer" and decide I'll just grab my own mulch.
He concurs and begins grabbing his own shit, and I now realize that the long list of mulch is there for a reason. There are tons of different bags of mulch sitting in piles and I have no idea what I'm supposed to get. I'll be damned if I'm gonna wait, so I just pick one and grab four bags. Did I say four? Labor charge, my friends, labor charge.
I'm feeling pretty solid about the whole exchange, and head on home. I lay down the sod first, which covers all of 1/3 of the area I needed it to. Crap.
Then I move on to the mulch. I tear open a bag and start laying it in the areas where there is no mulch or the existing mulch is thin. Well, after a few pours, I notice something very odd. This mulch looks very red?! Now, I'm color blind so it's tough for me to make this judgment call. It definitely looks different from the rest of the mulch that's down, but maybe it's just because it's fresh. So I pour a bit more, about 3/4 of the bag. OK, it is definitely red. Immediately I call Amy in a panic. She tells me to stop what I'm doing and wait for her to get home. Good, I needed to watch the South Park episode I missed on Tivo.
She gets home about an hour later and confirms that the mulch is indeed red. Great. How do I return something I obviously didn't ask for and that I stole an extra bag of to boot. Fuck it...Red garden. But here's the catch. Since I now have red mulch, that doesn't match the existing mulch, I need to go back and get like 6 more bags of it so everything is the same color.
Definitely something going on with that garden place. Sons of bitches.
Well, now the red garden is complete. You'd think it'd be an eyesore, but already one other neighbor has followed suit and another one came by to say that she's probably going to go get some red mulch as well.
"It's very striking."
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Some Structure
I'm thinking with the new look to the site, I'd add some structure to my blogging, though I could change my mind at any point. That's just how I am. So here goes:
Sundays: Top 10 Lists - Based off my original Top 10s post a few weeks ago, I will enter a new top ten list each Sunday a la David Letterman. Suggestions are always welcome as is everyone's own input and Top 10s.
Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays: The ongoing saga which is my life, a 27-year old Pool Service company owner who lives with his girlfriend and dog in a townhouse in Rockville, and works with his parents and youngest brother.
Tuesdays: Fuzzy Memories - This post will be dedicated to letting you all read about, and allowing me to recall some of my better memories from the past. Some of the names may be changed to protect the innocent, and any acts which could be deemed illegal should be considered complete fiction.
Thursdays and Fridays: These are the wild cards. I may just rest and not write anything. Or I may catch up because I missed writing one of the other days. Or I may just put up a picture of a nice set of boobs so we can all start off the weekend nicely. We'll see.
Enjoy the new structure. Email me with any suggestions: jakpot1277@hotmail.com.
Sundays: Top 10 Lists - Based off my original Top 10s post a few weeks ago, I will enter a new top ten list each Sunday a la David Letterman. Suggestions are always welcome as is everyone's own input and Top 10s.
Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays: The ongoing saga which is my life, a 27-year old Pool Service company owner who lives with his girlfriend and dog in a townhouse in Rockville, and works with his parents and youngest brother.
Tuesdays: Fuzzy Memories - This post will be dedicated to letting you all read about, and allowing me to recall some of my better memories from the past. Some of the names may be changed to protect the innocent, and any acts which could be deemed illegal should be considered complete fiction.
Thursdays and Fridays: These are the wild cards. I may just rest and not write anything. Or I may catch up because I missed writing one of the other days. Or I may just put up a picture of a nice set of boobs so we can all start off the weekend nicely. We'll see.
Enjoy the new structure. Email me with any suggestions: jakpot1277@hotmail.com.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Quick Thought
Not in the mood to write up a big blog after moving all my stuff into the new blog site, so I simply want to ask this age old question...as it happened again today while I was making dinner with Amy:
Why would someone ever utter this comment?
"Oh my god, this is disgusting. Look at it."
This is in reference to a block of cheese that had molded in our refridgerator and was obviously covered in fur. Why would I want to look at? If it's disgusting, I definitely don't want to look at. That's like when I'm eating with someone and they're like, "This is cold, or this is awful. Try it."
Why? I trust your judgment. I don't want to suffer through the same pain you have endured. Is this some sort of sick game?
"Ooo, this stinks. Smell it."
"Ow, this is sharp. Feel it."
"Man, that is bright. Look at that."
"I'm not sure the chicken is done. Try it and tell me what you think."
"Look at this bee's nest over here."
Ridiculous.
Why would someone ever utter this comment?
"Oh my god, this is disgusting. Look at it."
This is in reference to a block of cheese that had molded in our refridgerator and was obviously covered in fur. Why would I want to look at? If it's disgusting, I definitely don't want to look at. That's like when I'm eating with someone and they're like, "This is cold, or this is awful. Try it."
Why? I trust your judgment. I don't want to suffer through the same pain you have endured. Is this some sort of sick game?
"Ooo, this stinks. Smell it."
"Ow, this is sharp. Feel it."
"Man, that is bright. Look at that."
"I'm not sure the chicken is done. Try it and tell me what you think."
"Look at this bee's nest over here."
Ridiculous.
The Dirty Filter
Welcome to the Dirty Filter... a blog about the random shit that crosses my mind and my eyes as I wade through another year of Pool Service work. All my old posts from "My Opinions...I've Got Plenty" has been moved to this site and I'll be posting new stuff on a regular basis. Hope everyone likes the new look, and spread the word..."The Dirty Filter is up and running."
Monday, April 11, 2005
Too Much to Write It All
Too much has happened recently that I can't dedicate one blog to each or I'd be writing for several days about stuff that occurred too far in the past...so I will quickly touch on some of the finer issues that have passed my way recently.
Miss Kentucky
I'm waiting for the Grovesnor metro on Friday night and this chick walks up by herself and is sort of giving me the "we should talk" vibe. I'm totally gonna botch this, so save yourself the buildup right now. Anyway, she's kinda hot but in that exotic overly done up sort of way. She's wearing a turtleneck sweater and a black trenchcoat-type thing, holding a black briefcase and more makeup than you usually see...not your typical metro rider by any sense. So she draws my attention and is fumbling in her briefcase/bag. She turns to me and asks for a pen...like I have a purse full of random shit like this??!! Obviously, I have no pen and her only in is lost, so we stand awkwardly at the metro stop in silence, until she pulls out her cell. phone and makes a call. I've got nothing better to do, so I listen in...and she's like, "Hi Dr. so and so, this is Miss Kentucky Kristen something" and I'm like, she didn't, did she?
So like I said, I botch this, proceed in still not talking to her, get on the metro, sit by myself, get to my buddy Jay's place, tell him about this, and we all figure I heard had to have heard wrong.
Well, turns out the freakin Miss USA pageant is on TV right now, Miss Kentucky made it to the second round or whatnot, and IT'S THE SAME GIRL. I am truly a sackless loser.
Lord of the Dance
On Saturday night, Amy and I went to see Lord of the Dance. Spare me the commentary...I've heard it before. Yes, I know it sucks and I'm gay, blah, blah, blah. But it really did suck...and I'm pissed. I actually thought it would be good, as I enjoyed Stomp, which was like a step dancing show, and figured this was in the same genre. No, not at all. This was the cheesiest, most corny display of theater imaginable. I swear they weren't even making the tap noises, instead they pulled an Ashlee Simpson/Milli Vanilli, including faking a chick dressed in gold sequins, including a skull cap, playing the recorder...an instrument made popular by 4th graders in the Montgomery County School system for years. GARBAGE. I was sorely let down, and that's all I'm gonna say about that.
Gardening
This will be short. I actually got off my ass on Sunday and completely redid the shit garden in my front yard. I'm talking, tilled the front section, built a retaining wall, made a planter bed, planted a Maple tree among others, and laid decorative rocks. I'm the shit, have added another new talent to the repertoire, and now my standard redneck suntan has gotten an early start this year. SWEET.
Suspicious Man at the Capital
OK, so I heard on the news about this guy who was looking suspicious at the Capital, causing an evacuation and eventually getting himself tackled and his suitcase detonated by police. The best part is, he was wearing the "suspicious person's" stereotypical outfit. Wearing an all black suit, looking like Neo from the Matrix, standing all alone with two suitcase by the Capital. I mean, if he was trying to blend in, he totally missed it on this one. You can't get more suspicious than that, short of wearing a fake beard and turban. Classic. What a dumb ass. I hope they gave him a full body cavity search just for being a jackass.
And that's my last three days...perhaps I will touch on these some more if I am completely lost for something to write about next time I get the urge.
Miss Kentucky
I'm waiting for the Grovesnor metro on Friday night and this chick walks up by herself and is sort of giving me the "we should talk" vibe. I'm totally gonna botch this, so save yourself the buildup right now. Anyway, she's kinda hot but in that exotic overly done up sort of way. She's wearing a turtleneck sweater and a black trenchcoat-type thing, holding a black briefcase and more makeup than you usually see...not your typical metro rider by any sense. So she draws my attention and is fumbling in her briefcase/bag. She turns to me and asks for a pen...like I have a purse full of random shit like this??!! Obviously, I have no pen and her only in is lost, so we stand awkwardly at the metro stop in silence, until she pulls out her cell. phone and makes a call. I've got nothing better to do, so I listen in...and she's like, "Hi Dr. so and so, this is Miss Kentucky Kristen something" and I'm like, she didn't, did she?
So like I said, I botch this, proceed in still not talking to her, get on the metro, sit by myself, get to my buddy Jay's place, tell him about this, and we all figure I heard had to have heard wrong.
Well, turns out the freakin Miss USA pageant is on TV right now, Miss Kentucky made it to the second round or whatnot, and IT'S THE SAME GIRL. I am truly a sackless loser.
Lord of the Dance
On Saturday night, Amy and I went to see Lord of the Dance. Spare me the commentary...I've heard it before. Yes, I know it sucks and I'm gay, blah, blah, blah. But it really did suck...and I'm pissed. I actually thought it would be good, as I enjoyed Stomp, which was like a step dancing show, and figured this was in the same genre. No, not at all. This was the cheesiest, most corny display of theater imaginable. I swear they weren't even making the tap noises, instead they pulled an Ashlee Simpson/Milli Vanilli, including faking a chick dressed in gold sequins, including a skull cap, playing the recorder...an instrument made popular by 4th graders in the Montgomery County School system for years. GARBAGE. I was sorely let down, and that's all I'm gonna say about that.
Gardening
This will be short. I actually got off my ass on Sunday and completely redid the shit garden in my front yard. I'm talking, tilled the front section, built a retaining wall, made a planter bed, planted a Maple tree among others, and laid decorative rocks. I'm the shit, have added another new talent to the repertoire, and now my standard redneck suntan has gotten an early start this year. SWEET.
Suspicious Man at the Capital
OK, so I heard on the news about this guy who was looking suspicious at the Capital, causing an evacuation and eventually getting himself tackled and his suitcase detonated by police. The best part is, he was wearing the "suspicious person's" stereotypical outfit. Wearing an all black suit, looking like Neo from the Matrix, standing all alone with two suitcase by the Capital. I mean, if he was trying to blend in, he totally missed it on this one. You can't get more suspicious than that, short of wearing a fake beard and turban. Classic. What a dumb ass. I hope they gave him a full body cavity search just for being a jackass.
And that's my last three days...perhaps I will touch on these some more if I am completely lost for something to write about next time I get the urge.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Fantasy Baseball Update
After one full week of games, I have already given up paying attention to my random public league team. Who cares, really? But the other two are looking dominant and the third one is prepping to start the season this week, after our draft delayed us into skipping the first week. Here's the breakdown:
Team Name: Hurts To Pee
League Type: 5 X 5 Rotisserie Style
Ownership: Draft new each year - 12 teams
Team Highlights: Ichiro, "Big 4" Pitching staff of Unit, Pedro, Harden, and Bonderman
Place as of 4/9: 1st, OH YEAH. 86.5 points
Team Name: Clue Haywood
League Type: 5 X 5 Rotisserie Style
Ownership: 10-man max. Keeper league with auction - 12 Teams
Team Highlights: Beltran, Ichiro, bargain priced stud closers Lidge, F.Cordero, Kolb, and hopefully a recovering Borowski.
Place as of 4/9: 1st, OH YEAH AGAIN. 90 pts.
Team Name: The Cream
League Type: 5 X 5 Head-to-Head
Ownership: Draft new each year - 10 teams
Team Highlights: Offensively loaded with Vlad, Thome, Hideki Matsui, Carlos Lee, Jeter, Chipper, and Konerko.
Start this week against Backne (Zack's team)
We're expecting big things from Chipper Jones, as he was the only player selected to all three teams.
Next update, 4/16, where we'll focus on Clue Haywood.
Team Name: Hurts To Pee
League Type: 5 X 5 Rotisserie Style
Ownership: Draft new each year - 12 teams
Team Highlights: Ichiro, "Big 4" Pitching staff of Unit, Pedro, Harden, and Bonderman
Place as of 4/9: 1st, OH YEAH. 86.5 points
Team Name: Clue Haywood
League Type: 5 X 5 Rotisserie Style
Ownership: 10-man max. Keeper league with auction - 12 Teams
Team Highlights: Beltran, Ichiro, bargain priced stud closers Lidge, F.Cordero, Kolb, and hopefully a recovering Borowski.
Place as of 4/9: 1st, OH YEAH AGAIN. 90 pts.
Team Name: The Cream
League Type: 5 X 5 Head-to-Head
Ownership: Draft new each year - 10 teams
Team Highlights: Offensively loaded with Vlad, Thome, Hideki Matsui, Carlos Lee, Jeter, Chipper, and Konerko.
Start this week against Backne (Zack's team)
We're expecting big things from Chipper Jones, as he was the only player selected to all three teams.
Next update, 4/16, where we'll focus on Clue Haywood.
Spring Stuff To Do
Well, it's Saturday. The weather is nice. And it's early Spring. But I ain't going outside...too tired.
I've been talking about a whole bunch of things that I need to get taken care of now that it's getting warm, but I'm really not in the mood to get started on that. Here's what we've got on the queue:
DIRT MOUND: I've got a giant mound of dirt, which has been nicely mulched for me by the Homeowner's Association, that I need to make look more like an actual garden. You see, the previous owners of my house put in a "British Garden" to cover most of the front yard. To those of you who don't know what a British Garden is, it's a lazyman's attempt to make a landscaped area. They have plants over here and there with no particular order of organization, and it just ends up looking like a big giant mess. Right now, about 7 different plants are popping up in clumps randomly located around the mound. Basically, it looks like shit. So I really need to do something about it. I figure I'll get myself some shrub-type plants around the back, with some color (flowers, who knows) in a row in front of it. Then Amy's been talking about getting some decorative grass...which looks like an 80's hairband wig made of straw, and putting it around. And of course, I need to get one small tree to tie it all together. Yeah, that sounds nice...Not gonna do that right now.
DECK STAIRS: Right now, I have a deck that you get to from my kitchen which sits about 10 feet above ground level. Down at ground level, I have a reasonable sized fenced-in backyard, which is presently a mine field of dog crap because I have been too lazy to clean that up as well. In either case, the two do not connect. If you want to go from the grass to the deck, you must walk into the house, through the TV room, down a hall, up the stairs, into the dining room and through the kitchen. So naturally, a stairwell leading directly from the grass to the deck would be nice so you just go up and down those stairs instead. I need to call a deck guy, have him come out here and look at the place, then give me a design that I have to take to the HOA for approval, then they can build it. Whew, that seems like a lot to do and it might be pricey. I'll pass for now.
FRONT DOOR: The front door needs a new coat of stain and sealant because it's starting to crack. But that would mean going to Home Depot, picking out the right color, sanding the front door, and then putting on at least two coats of stain. Who has the time?
FRONT STEPS: The concrete steps coming up to the house are starting to look pretty worn. Its got some pits, and you can see the stones of the concrete in some worn areas, and there are some cracks all around which have apparently been caulked...poorly. It sort of reminds me of Gheorge Muresan's face. Now, I am a concrete expert now, but this seems like something I don't want to look into at this point. Maybe next week I'll call somebody.
RUN WITH DOG IN PARK: Chloe could really use some quality outside time, but I could really use some quality couch time. Advantage...human.
Well, at least I got up early today and went to work to load some brick and meet with a client. I feel that's accomplishing something and there's always tomorrow. Yankee game just started, think I'll go watch TV in my basement with the blinds shut for 3 hours. Ahhh, Springtime.
I've been talking about a whole bunch of things that I need to get taken care of now that it's getting warm, but I'm really not in the mood to get started on that. Here's what we've got on the queue:
DIRT MOUND: I've got a giant mound of dirt, which has been nicely mulched for me by the Homeowner's Association, that I need to make look more like an actual garden. You see, the previous owners of my house put in a "British Garden" to cover most of the front yard. To those of you who don't know what a British Garden is, it's a lazyman's attempt to make a landscaped area. They have plants over here and there with no particular order of organization, and it just ends up looking like a big giant mess. Right now, about 7 different plants are popping up in clumps randomly located around the mound. Basically, it looks like shit. So I really need to do something about it. I figure I'll get myself some shrub-type plants around the back, with some color (flowers, who knows) in a row in front of it. Then Amy's been talking about getting some decorative grass...which looks like an 80's hairband wig made of straw, and putting it around. And of course, I need to get one small tree to tie it all together. Yeah, that sounds nice...Not gonna do that right now.
DECK STAIRS: Right now, I have a deck that you get to from my kitchen which sits about 10 feet above ground level. Down at ground level, I have a reasonable sized fenced-in backyard, which is presently a mine field of dog crap because I have been too lazy to clean that up as well. In either case, the two do not connect. If you want to go from the grass to the deck, you must walk into the house, through the TV room, down a hall, up the stairs, into the dining room and through the kitchen. So naturally, a stairwell leading directly from the grass to the deck would be nice so you just go up and down those stairs instead. I need to call a deck guy, have him come out here and look at the place, then give me a design that I have to take to the HOA for approval, then they can build it. Whew, that seems like a lot to do and it might be pricey. I'll pass for now.
FRONT DOOR: The front door needs a new coat of stain and sealant because it's starting to crack. But that would mean going to Home Depot, picking out the right color, sanding the front door, and then putting on at least two coats of stain. Who has the time?
FRONT STEPS: The concrete steps coming up to the house are starting to look pretty worn. Its got some pits, and you can see the stones of the concrete in some worn areas, and there are some cracks all around which have apparently been caulked...poorly. It sort of reminds me of Gheorge Muresan's face. Now, I am a concrete expert now, but this seems like something I don't want to look into at this point. Maybe next week I'll call somebody.
RUN WITH DOG IN PARK: Chloe could really use some quality outside time, but I could really use some quality couch time. Advantage...human.
Well, at least I got up early today and went to work to load some brick and meet with a client. I feel that's accomplishing something and there's always tomorrow. Yankee game just started, think I'll go watch TV in my basement with the blinds shut for 3 hours. Ahhh, Springtime.
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Concrete?
So, I'm very exhausted right now so I don't know how long, or how funny this one is going to be. Why am I so tired? I helped with pouring a new concrete deck for a pool that we've been working on.
Typically, I wouldn't do this work. Not so much that I, personally, would not do this work, but my company and its immediate employees would not do this. However, my subcontractor, who does do this for me, has become a friend of mine through our years of working together, and he needed some assistance on this job. And quite frankly the whole job is worth over $50,000 to me, so I wanted it finished and looking right, and if I have to be there to do it, so be it.
So here I am, on this hot day, pushing concrete into place with a bull float. Yes, I didn't know what a bull float was until today either...and I had to rent two more because the one he brought was clumsy and worthless.
You see, my subcontractor, Martin, is a super friendly guy and unfortunately he really doesn't realize his own limitations. He will jovialy volunteer to do jobs he has little to no experience doing, and work he really isn't properly equipped for. I believe this job was a little bit of both. Did I say "little."
But I'm not the only one here. Two more of my employees are here, but they have been here from about 10:30 AM. I just showed up at 1 PM, after finishing two other jobs in the morning.
On my arrival, I see the following. Two concrete mixing trucks, like I used to have Hotwheels for, parked in the driveway. Three Mexicans standing around the mixer that is presently spitting out concrete. My employee, Manny, covered in sweat pushing concrete in a wheel barrow. One of Martin's guys, a fat tall guy in glasses, also covered in sweat, pushing another cart. Martin standing over the only completed section of concrete (4' X 4') and three other guys, including my brother, pushing what looks like gravel in clay two sections down from Martin.
Within 10 minutes, Martin is swearing because the concrete is not liquidy enough, the bull float is too clumsy, and we've still got about 400 square feet of concrete left to pour. FUCK ME!
First problem, no one has any food or drink and I haven't eaten either. I have not been a part of their original plan, so I quickly head over to Giant and grab Gatorades and sandwich stuff, so no one dies.
On my return, Martin is still bitching about the bull float and says, "Fuck it, we can't get this done. We've got to stop." At which point, I ask the obvious question, "What about the two trucks of concrete out in the driveway?"
"I'll have to eat the cost he says"
I also forgot to mention that Martin is a terrible business man. He is far too cavalier about pricing and payment and in "eating the cost" on certain parts of the job. Well, it's no skin off my back if he eats the cost, but I see four sections full of unfinished concrete and 7 more sections full of absolutely nothing, and Martin already is about 2 weeks behind on his other work, and I've got a lady in Great Falls bitching about that fact, and a pool in Lorton that has been waiting for new tile for 2 weeks, and I'll be damned if this is not getting done today.
So I call the office, have them call Rentals Unlimited for a new bull float...I'm learning this shit pretty quickly, and get down and dirty.
Did I mention that I know nothing about pouring concrete and have never done it before? Yeah, but everyone else seemed rejuvenated, so what the hell. Sure enough, we got it done...for the most part. I think it could have looked nicer and I quickly retired from doing anything remotely "skill oriented" related to the plaster, but there is flat concrete on this lady's deck, and no one ate anything other than the sandwiches I brought from Giant.
But at least I've added one more thing to my list of exciting things that I've done in my life.
Gone to Cancun during Spring Break...check
Gone to Mardi Gras...check
Monage Trois...check
Competed in a halftime contest for $100,000...check
Flown an airplane...check
Poured a concrete deck....check
Typically, I wouldn't do this work. Not so much that I, personally, would not do this work, but my company and its immediate employees would not do this. However, my subcontractor, who does do this for me, has become a friend of mine through our years of working together, and he needed some assistance on this job. And quite frankly the whole job is worth over $50,000 to me, so I wanted it finished and looking right, and if I have to be there to do it, so be it.
So here I am, on this hot day, pushing concrete into place with a bull float. Yes, I didn't know what a bull float was until today either...and I had to rent two more because the one he brought was clumsy and worthless.
You see, my subcontractor, Martin, is a super friendly guy and unfortunately he really doesn't realize his own limitations. He will jovialy volunteer to do jobs he has little to no experience doing, and work he really isn't properly equipped for. I believe this job was a little bit of both. Did I say "little."
But I'm not the only one here. Two more of my employees are here, but they have been here from about 10:30 AM. I just showed up at 1 PM, after finishing two other jobs in the morning.
On my arrival, I see the following. Two concrete mixing trucks, like I used to have Hotwheels for, parked in the driveway. Three Mexicans standing around the mixer that is presently spitting out concrete. My employee, Manny, covered in sweat pushing concrete in a wheel barrow. One of Martin's guys, a fat tall guy in glasses, also covered in sweat, pushing another cart. Martin standing over the only completed section of concrete (4' X 4') and three other guys, including my brother, pushing what looks like gravel in clay two sections down from Martin.
Within 10 minutes, Martin is swearing because the concrete is not liquidy enough, the bull float is too clumsy, and we've still got about 400 square feet of concrete left to pour. FUCK ME!
First problem, no one has any food or drink and I haven't eaten either. I have not been a part of their original plan, so I quickly head over to Giant and grab Gatorades and sandwich stuff, so no one dies.
On my return, Martin is still bitching about the bull float and says, "Fuck it, we can't get this done. We've got to stop." At which point, I ask the obvious question, "What about the two trucks of concrete out in the driveway?"
"I'll have to eat the cost he says"
I also forgot to mention that Martin is a terrible business man. He is far too cavalier about pricing and payment and in "eating the cost" on certain parts of the job. Well, it's no skin off my back if he eats the cost, but I see four sections full of unfinished concrete and 7 more sections full of absolutely nothing, and Martin already is about 2 weeks behind on his other work, and I've got a lady in Great Falls bitching about that fact, and a pool in Lorton that has been waiting for new tile for 2 weeks, and I'll be damned if this is not getting done today.
So I call the office, have them call Rentals Unlimited for a new bull float...I'm learning this shit pretty quickly, and get down and dirty.
Did I mention that I know nothing about pouring concrete and have never done it before? Yeah, but everyone else seemed rejuvenated, so what the hell. Sure enough, we got it done...for the most part. I think it could have looked nicer and I quickly retired from doing anything remotely "skill oriented" related to the plaster, but there is flat concrete on this lady's deck, and no one ate anything other than the sandwiches I brought from Giant.
But at least I've added one more thing to my list of exciting things that I've done in my life.
Gone to Cancun during Spring Break...check
Gone to Mardi Gras...check
Monage Trois...check
Competed in a halftime contest for $100,000...check
Flown an airplane...check
Poured a concrete deck....check
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Ridiculous Bet #1
This is an excellent way for me to remember my ridiculous bets that I make throughout the year. As I made one on Monday after my Beantown loving friend forced me to watch replays of the Yankees-Sox series last year, I figured I'd post it here.
I said that the Red Sox would finish 3rd or lower in the AL East this season. And I put $10 on it with Langley. Go Birds and Fish!
I said that the Red Sox would finish 3rd or lower in the AL East this season. And I put $10 on it with Langley. Go Birds and Fish!
Wacky Wednesday
Where in the hell did this heat come from? I'm not complaining, though I'm sitting at my computer wearing only basketball shorts and brown socks. Let me explain:
It used to be cold. I was wearing long pants, sweaters and running the heat in my house. But then it became warm. Not over a period of days, but today...83 degrees or more warm. Hell, that's hot.
Well, now it's about 85 degrees on my top floor and here in the computer room it is probably approaching 90. I'm too cheap to want to turn on the AC because I got the gas bill last month and I'll be damned if I'm going to make heat leave my house on purpose. So, off with the jeans. Why change socks, one more thing to wash? Shirt's too hot and walking around in my underwear on a Wednesday afternoon just seems a bit odd, so I grabbed some basketball shorts. Problem...solution.
Now, on to other things. Today I had to drive to Baltimore to look at an automatic pool cover job. Normally a trip to Baltimore takes about 45 minutes to an hour, but this took almost 2 hours to find the place. It's owned by one of the Modells (yes, those Modells) so perhaps they wanted to hide themselves from having any visitors. The map book says I can go on this one street so I'm heading along this road which should dead end at her street. Well, we're near a golf course so apparently they wanted to make the roads look like cart paths...and I'm in a Chevy truck. This winding path goes on for about 1/2 mile and then stops at a house...not her house, and not her street. WTF!!!
So, I backtrack out of this place and see there's a different road that meets their street. About 5 minutes later, I'm at this street, but it is blocked by a closed fence (the whole street) and there's a sign that says "E O E O I E" The rest of the sign is rubbed off. Yeah, I'm fucked.
OK, there's one other way to go. So I go around this street and it also dead ends at a driveway and a dirt path...but the map book says the road meets off to the left...and the dirt path is to the left. So, I'm already on a cart path, why not go on a dirt path?
I already know how I'm going to die, and this is not how it happens...so what the hell? I go down this path and sure enough, I'm in Spectre, Steve Buscemi is there, and they have some amazing pie. Simply delicious. We measure the cover, tell her we can get her a new one and everyone is thrilled...and we danced while a fiddle played. I swear I never wanted to leave, but unfortunately, I still had to go to a job in Clarksville and in Silver Spring, so I bid my farewell and continued on my exciting adventure.
Stupid house in the middle of nowhere.
It used to be cold. I was wearing long pants, sweaters and running the heat in my house. But then it became warm. Not over a period of days, but today...83 degrees or more warm. Hell, that's hot.
Well, now it's about 85 degrees on my top floor and here in the computer room it is probably approaching 90. I'm too cheap to want to turn on the AC because I got the gas bill last month and I'll be damned if I'm going to make heat leave my house on purpose. So, off with the jeans. Why change socks, one more thing to wash? Shirt's too hot and walking around in my underwear on a Wednesday afternoon just seems a bit odd, so I grabbed some basketball shorts. Problem...solution.
Now, on to other things. Today I had to drive to Baltimore to look at an automatic pool cover job. Normally a trip to Baltimore takes about 45 minutes to an hour, but this took almost 2 hours to find the place. It's owned by one of the Modells (yes, those Modells) so perhaps they wanted to hide themselves from having any visitors. The map book says I can go on this one street so I'm heading along this road which should dead end at her street. Well, we're near a golf course so apparently they wanted to make the roads look like cart paths...and I'm in a Chevy truck. This winding path goes on for about 1/2 mile and then stops at a house...not her house, and not her street. WTF!!!
So, I backtrack out of this place and see there's a different road that meets their street. About 5 minutes later, I'm at this street, but it is blocked by a closed fence (the whole street) and there's a sign that says "E O E O I E" The rest of the sign is rubbed off. Yeah, I'm fucked.
OK, there's one other way to go. So I go around this street and it also dead ends at a driveway and a dirt path...but the map book says the road meets off to the left...and the dirt path is to the left. So, I'm already on a cart path, why not go on a dirt path?
I already know how I'm going to die, and this is not how it happens...so what the hell? I go down this path and sure enough, I'm in Spectre, Steve Buscemi is there, and they have some amazing pie. Simply delicious. We measure the cover, tell her we can get her a new one and everyone is thrilled...and we danced while a fiddle played. I swear I never wanted to leave, but unfortunately, I still had to go to a job in Clarksville and in Silver Spring, so I bid my farewell and continued on my exciting adventure.
Stupid house in the middle of nowhere.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
VOB Nissan Blows
Last night, after having dinner with my girlfriend, her co-worker and her co-worker's boyfriend, we headed over to Champions Billiards in Rockville to catch the end of the UNC-MSU game and play some pool. I had already had two margaritas with dinner, and I was driving, so I decided to take it slow on the drinking. I only ordered one beer and nursed it through two games, followed it up with a coke and two waters...so I'm good. Thankfully, for once, I was conscious of my need to not drink and drive.
Why, you ask? Aren't you the guy who drove home from Capital Hill at 4 AM and puked at one of the park pull-offs along GW Parkway. Yes. Aren't you the guy who sculpted a bowl out of newspapers on the metro, puked in it, and threw it on the floor. Yes. Aren't you the guy who got a DWI on your 18th birthday and had to take 6 weeks of rehab classes and AA? Ok, we get the point.
Here's why. Because I have a giant target on my back just calling for cops to pull me over. Well, it's not actually my back, it's the back of my car. That's where my temp tags are still sitting, though they expired on March 29th.
VOB Nissan, the place where I got the car, called me a month ago to say that they could not find the title that my brother (whom I bought the car from through them) was supposed to have turned into them. I swore he had done so, and the guy assured me that he would simply order a new title if he couldn't find it, and there would be no problem with my tags. HE LIED.
Apparently, he filed my paperwork right up his ass for safekeeping for the last month, because when I called them on the 29th to say, "WTF?" The whole place was clueless.
So what are you going to do about this? Give me another temp tag? No, that's illegal in Maryland. What they can do is give me a note from their manager like a tardy kid in 5th grade, in case I get pulled over. In case I get pulled over? And how long will I have to carry my tardy note? Ridiculous.
So luckily, they faxed me my tardy note on Thursday, I diligently (for once) put it in my glove box, which leads me to last night:
Three drinks in me, walking out of Champions, and who should be patrolling the parking lot but one of Montgomery County's finest. I see him stop in back of my car, then drive on, then circle back, then look at the front of my car. I'm in the car by now, sure he's going to pull me over and haul my ass off to jail (we're not quite at my DWI 10 year anniversary, and I'm not really looking to get shackled next to a guy they're hastling about a box his mother gave to him that they believe he stored his weed in again. Oh, and he was there for aggravated assault. True story)
So I decide not to turn on the ignition. I've heard stories about cops waiting til someone turns the key, then pulling them out for a field test and off to jail. Then I'm like, fuck it. Three drinks? I'm fine. Best I've been, and I know why he'll stop me and have a note explaining it. What the hell. I turn the key and start going. I get to the exit, and what do you know, the cop is now right behind me instead of circling the parking lot. A quick left onto Executive Blvd and on come the lights in my rearview. FUCK!! STUPID FUCKING VOB!!! GOD DAMN IT!!!
Cop rolls up to the window, and right to the "driver's license please." I hand him the goods and I'm quick with my own, "Is this about the tags?" (read: not the fact that I just left a bar and smell like Tequila and beer)
"Yeah, you know they're expired"
"Yeah, and I have this note from my mom...err, the manager at the car dealership."
He examined the note, said, "you know you're going to get pulled over again."
In my head I'm saying, "FUCKING VOB. FUCKING VOB. FUCKING VOB."
and he finishes with, "but you're free to go."
SWEET!! (STILL, FUCKING VOB. FUCKING VOB.)
I take off, make it home and all is good. But I'm sure the cop is right, I will be pulled over again. I'm a fugitive now, always having to look over my shoulder. Always wondering if the Man is gonna spot me now. I need some theme music.
I guess I also need to take all the bags of coke, bongs, and unregistered guns out of my backseat. Thanks VOB Nissan of Rockville. Fuck you very much.
Why, you ask? Aren't you the guy who drove home from Capital Hill at 4 AM and puked at one of the park pull-offs along GW Parkway. Yes. Aren't you the guy who sculpted a bowl out of newspapers on the metro, puked in it, and threw it on the floor. Yes. Aren't you the guy who got a DWI on your 18th birthday and had to take 6 weeks of rehab classes and AA? Ok, we get the point.
Here's why. Because I have a giant target on my back just calling for cops to pull me over. Well, it's not actually my back, it's the back of my car. That's where my temp tags are still sitting, though they expired on March 29th.
VOB Nissan, the place where I got the car, called me a month ago to say that they could not find the title that my brother (whom I bought the car from through them) was supposed to have turned into them. I swore he had done so, and the guy assured me that he would simply order a new title if he couldn't find it, and there would be no problem with my tags. HE LIED.
Apparently, he filed my paperwork right up his ass for safekeeping for the last month, because when I called them on the 29th to say, "WTF?" The whole place was clueless.
So what are you going to do about this? Give me another temp tag? No, that's illegal in Maryland. What they can do is give me a note from their manager like a tardy kid in 5th grade, in case I get pulled over. In case I get pulled over? And how long will I have to carry my tardy note? Ridiculous.
So luckily, they faxed me my tardy note on Thursday, I diligently (for once) put it in my glove box, which leads me to last night:
Three drinks in me, walking out of Champions, and who should be patrolling the parking lot but one of Montgomery County's finest. I see him stop in back of my car, then drive on, then circle back, then look at the front of my car. I'm in the car by now, sure he's going to pull me over and haul my ass off to jail (we're not quite at my DWI 10 year anniversary, and I'm not really looking to get shackled next to a guy they're hastling about a box his mother gave to him that they believe he stored his weed in again. Oh, and he was there for aggravated assault. True story)
So I decide not to turn on the ignition. I've heard stories about cops waiting til someone turns the key, then pulling them out for a field test and off to jail. Then I'm like, fuck it. Three drinks? I'm fine. Best I've been, and I know why he'll stop me and have a note explaining it. What the hell. I turn the key and start going. I get to the exit, and what do you know, the cop is now right behind me instead of circling the parking lot. A quick left onto Executive Blvd and on come the lights in my rearview. FUCK!! STUPID FUCKING VOB!!! GOD DAMN IT!!!
Cop rolls up to the window, and right to the "driver's license please." I hand him the goods and I'm quick with my own, "Is this about the tags?" (read: not the fact that I just left a bar and smell like Tequila and beer)
"Yeah, you know they're expired"
"Yeah, and I have this note from my mom...err, the manager at the car dealership."
He examined the note, said, "you know you're going to get pulled over again."
In my head I'm saying, "FUCKING VOB. FUCKING VOB. FUCKING VOB."
and he finishes with, "but you're free to go."
SWEET!! (STILL, FUCKING VOB. FUCKING VOB.)
I take off, make it home and all is good. But I'm sure the cop is right, I will be pulled over again. I'm a fugitive now, always having to look over my shoulder. Always wondering if the Man is gonna spot me now. I need some theme music.
I guess I also need to take all the bags of coke, bongs, and unregistered guns out of my backseat. Thanks VOB Nissan of Rockville. Fuck you very much.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
MVP Baseball '05
The Nationals just lost the pennant to the Mariners in 6 games. Tough way to end the season for a two-year old franchise. But I'm not complaining.
You see in 2005, Major League Baseball decided the teams needed to be better balanced, so they put all players into a pool and allowed the teams to draft the players and take over their respective contracts. Money was not a concern, because it was simply a video game, so competition on the whole would be improved in the struggling sport, following all the trouble with steroids over the off-season. Barry Bonds was not allowed to play...however, a white player named Jim Dowd was, and he bore a striking resemblence to Barry in all aspects of his game.
I had just taken hold of the young Nationals franchise and we had big plans for the DC squad. There really isn't a "we," unless you count my dog who is sitting on the couch with me for most of the season, but I will draw in the assumed management for your enjoyment. So anyway, We drew rights to the third pick overall, and with it selected the young stud first baseman Albert Pujols. He's a good player to build a team around, so I was very happy with the selection.
With our next picks, we felt it would be best to develop a strong young starting rotation, as pitching wins championships. I railed off the picks of Roy Oswalt, Josh Beckett, Rich Harden, and AJ Burnett, and we're sitting pretty with a starting rotation the likes of the Cubs. Things are obviously a bit thinner in the hitting department by this point, so I figure we'll get some decent defensive players with some good speed and play some small ball a la the Twins. My first pick is Corey Patterson to man the outfield and then I surround him with the rest of these guys:
C Mike Matheny Dioner Navarro
1B Pujols
2B D'Angelo Jimenez
SS Jose Reyes
3B Aaron Boone Dallas McPherson
RF Austin Kearns Joey Gathright (actually a CF)
CF Patterson
LF Kevin Mench Jayson Werth Victor Diaz
I round out the pitching staff with some decent characters including Jason Isringhausen to close, a non-injured Raphael Soriano, J.C. Romero, Otsuka and some other guy...who cares?
Well, I finish up with the Nationals roster, which took some time and sort of dragged on after I finished my starting lineup...then they hit me with this. Draft your minor league teams. Notice the "S" at the end of that. They don't want me to just draft the AAA team, they want me to fill the Double-A Hartford Senators and Single-A Potomac Cannons rosters. Are you kidding me? I'll let the other guys in the "we" take care of that. I let the computer handle a lot of the stuff because quite frankly I'd need a pen and paper to keep track of all this shit, and I'm not about to do that for a PS2 game.
So they fill out my minor league affiliates and we're off. Things are looking good right off the bat, Oswalt pitches an 8 inning shutout gem in the first game and the Nationals begin 1-0. Mind you, I'm not playing any of these games...who has the time. I'm here to run the show. So we proceed through the season, Kearns is starting off real slow, so I decide to shuffle the outfield a bit to give the other guys some PT. Big mistake!!!
Within games, I've got guys bitching about their contracts and their playing time and the team has hit a losing skid. I'm overwhelmed as even the AAA guys are bitching that they want their shot and are losing motivation. Victor Diaz start being a primadonna and wants to be an everyday player. Well, I'm not standing for those terrorist antics, off to AAA for that dip shit.
Next thing you know, Robb Quinlan is hitting the shit out of the ball in AAA, Dallas McPherson is claiming he's a top 100 prospect and deserves PT and I've got Aaron Boone batting .220 with 13 HR and 14 SB early on in their way.
I love Aaron Boone, he hit the homer off Wakefield to win the ALCS, but he's got to go. McPherson's the future and Quinlan is content to be a situational IF fill-in. So I trade Boone to somebody for Tim Spooneybarger and a minor leaguer. It seems to work out well, as Quinlan plattoons nicely with McPherson and Spooneybarger solidifies my bullpen which has been struggling.
Next thing you know, Oswalt is hurt, all my other pitcher's ERAs are in the 4.00s and Albert Pujols is the only reason people should come to the stadium. And boy does my bottom line show it. The computer is telling me I'm $5 Mil in debt in no time, so I chalk this one up as a disaster year, we slide into last place, and I'm just trying to get some control out here for the 2006 season.
We do some internal investigating, lose some of the jokers who feel they're real players (Nook Logan, Ross Gload) and sign all the quality guys to long-term deals. Now all my players have happy faces next to them, team chemistry is high and we're heading into the new season. I kept the core guys and really didn't delve into the free agent market since we were so far in the hole to begin with.
And then it begins...
Best record in Spring Training. Harden and Beckett are throwing lights out. Pujols batted over .400 and even Reyes and Diaz (yep, he calmed down) are looking like their about to step their game up.
I do some reorganizing of the roster to make sure Kevin Mench stays happy...he's my only big power threat aside from Pujols, so Joey Gathright has to take the back seat and act as a fill-in OF for the time being. When I signed him to a new contract, however, I put in that he'd be a backup, so he actually kept his happy face. Plus we were winning.
Everyone's looking good for the first half, cruising through the season without any major injuries, when Izzy starts bitching about PT. What??!! He's the closer?? So I move him to middle relief and put Otsuka and closer...still bitching. So I traded him and his big salary for top upstart young pitchers. Who needs that kind of distraction in the locker room?
Burnett has some rough outings, so I move him to the bullpen to work things out. Otsuka doesn't like closing so I call up the pitcher I got for Izzy...something Frederick and he's holding things down as the fireman. He has a 92 rated 4-seam fastball..that's probably pretty good.
We're still losing money like I'm burning it though...but who cares...can they shut down my stadium? We move forward and unfortunately hit a dry spell. A 7 game losing streak drops us out of first and even trailing Arizona for the Wild Card. Things get tight at the end of the season and it comes down to this.
Final game against the Mets (who suck), one game back from the Braves for the NL East. Tied with Arizona for the Wild Card, Oswalt due to pitch. Braves lose, Arizona loses. The door is open...and yes, the Nats pull off the win and force a one game playoff with the Braves for the NL East...loser will be the Wild Card.
Beckett on the mound, Braves have been tough all year...and we lose a heart breaker, 3-4. Off to SF to face the Giants as the Wild Card team. But it's the playoffs, one year after a last place finish. DC is getting exited...I'm pulling in close to 10,000 fans a game. Whoo Hoo.
Obviously, the team is pissed about the loss in the one game playoff, because Frank Robinson leads em out there and they spank the Giants, outscoring them 26-1 in three games to sweep the series. Pujols is on FIRE!! Four homers in three games.
Guess who won the other series. The fucking Braves. Well, you ain't beating us this time...Nats beat em down in 4. This isn't even a contest. Two more shutouts. Harden hasn't allowed a run in the playoffs! Onward to Seattle, the AL winner.
They've got some nasty pitchers on this squad, resembling the Cubs rotation so much, they've actually got Prior and Wood.
Nats go down three quickly and things are looking grim. The offense is being shut down by the Mariner rotation and I'm sure Safeco field is playing its part (AL won the All-Star game, dammit). But we're back at RFK, we need to regroup after the first loss, and I can't let AJ Burnett pitch for our livelihood. Not after the season, he's had. So on three days rest, in comes Oswalt. He does his job, holds the Mariners to 3 runs in 6.2 innings of work and the offense does the rest, 8-4. Pujols and Gathright homer, Reyes is stinking up the joint though and doesn't have a hit.
Game 5, I gotta put Beckett out there, Harden's only been rested for 2 days. And oh, does he deliver. 7 innings, 1 ER...Nats win 3-1. We're almost back into this.
Well, unfortunately, you already know what happens. Here comes Harden...he's only allowed one run in the playoffs at this point, he's had an amazing year, I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. He breezes through 5 allowing just 2 runs and the game is tied, but Frank left him in too long off the short rest. Shelled for 4 more in the 6th, things are getting blown open, 6-2.
Soriano allows 4 more in the 7th and now it's grim, 10-2. We scrap for 1 more in the eighth and that's all she wrote. It was a good ride...and probably the only chance I will have in the near future to feel the excitement of the Nationals in the World Series.
Rich Harden is my new favorite player. And Yes, I just wrote an entire blog about a video game. And you read it.
You see in 2005, Major League Baseball decided the teams needed to be better balanced, so they put all players into a pool and allowed the teams to draft the players and take over their respective contracts. Money was not a concern, because it was simply a video game, so competition on the whole would be improved in the struggling sport, following all the trouble with steroids over the off-season. Barry Bonds was not allowed to play...however, a white player named Jim Dowd was, and he bore a striking resemblence to Barry in all aspects of his game.
I had just taken hold of the young Nationals franchise and we had big plans for the DC squad. There really isn't a "we," unless you count my dog who is sitting on the couch with me for most of the season, but I will draw in the assumed management for your enjoyment. So anyway, We drew rights to the third pick overall, and with it selected the young stud first baseman Albert Pujols. He's a good player to build a team around, so I was very happy with the selection.
With our next picks, we felt it would be best to develop a strong young starting rotation, as pitching wins championships. I railed off the picks of Roy Oswalt, Josh Beckett, Rich Harden, and AJ Burnett, and we're sitting pretty with a starting rotation the likes of the Cubs. Things are obviously a bit thinner in the hitting department by this point, so I figure we'll get some decent defensive players with some good speed and play some small ball a la the Twins. My first pick is Corey Patterson to man the outfield and then I surround him with the rest of these guys:
C Mike Matheny Dioner Navarro
1B Pujols
2B D'Angelo Jimenez
SS Jose Reyes
3B Aaron Boone Dallas McPherson
RF Austin Kearns Joey Gathright (actually a CF)
CF Patterson
LF Kevin Mench Jayson Werth Victor Diaz
I round out the pitching staff with some decent characters including Jason Isringhausen to close, a non-injured Raphael Soriano, J.C. Romero, Otsuka and some other guy...who cares?
Well, I finish up with the Nationals roster, which took some time and sort of dragged on after I finished my starting lineup...then they hit me with this. Draft your minor league teams. Notice the "S" at the end of that. They don't want me to just draft the AAA team, they want me to fill the Double-A Hartford Senators and Single-A Potomac Cannons rosters. Are you kidding me? I'll let the other guys in the "we" take care of that. I let the computer handle a lot of the stuff because quite frankly I'd need a pen and paper to keep track of all this shit, and I'm not about to do that for a PS2 game.
So they fill out my minor league affiliates and we're off. Things are looking good right off the bat, Oswalt pitches an 8 inning shutout gem in the first game and the Nationals begin 1-0. Mind you, I'm not playing any of these games...who has the time. I'm here to run the show. So we proceed through the season, Kearns is starting off real slow, so I decide to shuffle the outfield a bit to give the other guys some PT. Big mistake!!!
Within games, I've got guys bitching about their contracts and their playing time and the team has hit a losing skid. I'm overwhelmed as even the AAA guys are bitching that they want their shot and are losing motivation. Victor Diaz start being a primadonna and wants to be an everyday player. Well, I'm not standing for those terrorist antics, off to AAA for that dip shit.
Next thing you know, Robb Quinlan is hitting the shit out of the ball in AAA, Dallas McPherson is claiming he's a top 100 prospect and deserves PT and I've got Aaron Boone batting .220 with 13 HR and 14 SB early on in their way.
I love Aaron Boone, he hit the homer off Wakefield to win the ALCS, but he's got to go. McPherson's the future and Quinlan is content to be a situational IF fill-in. So I trade Boone to somebody for Tim Spooneybarger and a minor leaguer. It seems to work out well, as Quinlan plattoons nicely with McPherson and Spooneybarger solidifies my bullpen which has been struggling.
Next thing you know, Oswalt is hurt, all my other pitcher's ERAs are in the 4.00s and Albert Pujols is the only reason people should come to the stadium. And boy does my bottom line show it. The computer is telling me I'm $5 Mil in debt in no time, so I chalk this one up as a disaster year, we slide into last place, and I'm just trying to get some control out here for the 2006 season.
We do some internal investigating, lose some of the jokers who feel they're real players (Nook Logan, Ross Gload) and sign all the quality guys to long-term deals. Now all my players have happy faces next to them, team chemistry is high and we're heading into the new season. I kept the core guys and really didn't delve into the free agent market since we were so far in the hole to begin with.
And then it begins...
Best record in Spring Training. Harden and Beckett are throwing lights out. Pujols batted over .400 and even Reyes and Diaz (yep, he calmed down) are looking like their about to step their game up.
I do some reorganizing of the roster to make sure Kevin Mench stays happy...he's my only big power threat aside from Pujols, so Joey Gathright has to take the back seat and act as a fill-in OF for the time being. When I signed him to a new contract, however, I put in that he'd be a backup, so he actually kept his happy face. Plus we were winning.
Everyone's looking good for the first half, cruising through the season without any major injuries, when Izzy starts bitching about PT. What??!! He's the closer?? So I move him to middle relief and put Otsuka and closer...still bitching. So I traded him and his big salary for top upstart young pitchers. Who needs that kind of distraction in the locker room?
Burnett has some rough outings, so I move him to the bullpen to work things out. Otsuka doesn't like closing so I call up the pitcher I got for Izzy...something Frederick and he's holding things down as the fireman. He has a 92 rated 4-seam fastball..that's probably pretty good.
We're still losing money like I'm burning it though...but who cares...can they shut down my stadium? We move forward and unfortunately hit a dry spell. A 7 game losing streak drops us out of first and even trailing Arizona for the Wild Card. Things get tight at the end of the season and it comes down to this.
Final game against the Mets (who suck), one game back from the Braves for the NL East. Tied with Arizona for the Wild Card, Oswalt due to pitch. Braves lose, Arizona loses. The door is open...and yes, the Nats pull off the win and force a one game playoff with the Braves for the NL East...loser will be the Wild Card.
Beckett on the mound, Braves have been tough all year...and we lose a heart breaker, 3-4. Off to SF to face the Giants as the Wild Card team. But it's the playoffs, one year after a last place finish. DC is getting exited...I'm pulling in close to 10,000 fans a game. Whoo Hoo.
Obviously, the team is pissed about the loss in the one game playoff, because Frank Robinson leads em out there and they spank the Giants, outscoring them 26-1 in three games to sweep the series. Pujols is on FIRE!! Four homers in three games.
Guess who won the other series. The fucking Braves. Well, you ain't beating us this time...Nats beat em down in 4. This isn't even a contest. Two more shutouts. Harden hasn't allowed a run in the playoffs! Onward to Seattle, the AL winner.
They've got some nasty pitchers on this squad, resembling the Cubs rotation so much, they've actually got Prior and Wood.
Nats go down three quickly and things are looking grim. The offense is being shut down by the Mariner rotation and I'm sure Safeco field is playing its part (AL won the All-Star game, dammit). But we're back at RFK, we need to regroup after the first loss, and I can't let AJ Burnett pitch for our livelihood. Not after the season, he's had. So on three days rest, in comes Oswalt. He does his job, holds the Mariners to 3 runs in 6.2 innings of work and the offense does the rest, 8-4. Pujols and Gathright homer, Reyes is stinking up the joint though and doesn't have a hit.
Game 5, I gotta put Beckett out there, Harden's only been rested for 2 days. And oh, does he deliver. 7 innings, 1 ER...Nats win 3-1. We're almost back into this.
Well, unfortunately, you already know what happens. Here comes Harden...he's only allowed one run in the playoffs at this point, he's had an amazing year, I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. He breezes through 5 allowing just 2 runs and the game is tied, but Frank left him in too long off the short rest. Shelled for 4 more in the 6th, things are getting blown open, 6-2.
Soriano allows 4 more in the 7th and now it's grim, 10-2. We scrap for 1 more in the eighth and that's all she wrote. It was a good ride...and probably the only chance I will have in the near future to feel the excitement of the Nationals in the World Series.
Rich Harden is my new favorite player. And Yes, I just wrote an entire blog about a video game. And you read it.
Friday, April 01, 2005
Top Ten Lists, Volume 1
Well, pool season is about to begin again and with it comes lots of lost time driving between jobs. Though I don't get out on the road that often, those occassions when I am called to duty, I have to find a way to kill this dead period. Normally, I'll listen to Sportstalk 980 or maybe my helper and I will have something topical to discuss...but usually, it's a dead moment...filled with silence. I'm the boss so maybe that makes things awkward. Or maybe I'm just not very personable. Nonetheless, I found the best time killer that keeps everyone entertained...TOP TEN LISTS.
Yep, we'll come up with a topic and then debate who our top 10 would be. Simple game, let me get you started by putting forth some of my favorites. Top ten lists can change daily depending on how I'm feeling, so screw you if you disagree. Your comments and new top ten lists are always welcome. Perhaps I will interject my own opinion on a future post...thus the "volume 1" on this post. Anyway, here goes:
Top 10 Chicks I Want to Bang (your basic starter list)
10) J.Lo - This is more out of sheer reputation associated with seeing her ass. I would definitely have to do her doggie style or she'd be off the list.
9) Britney Spears - Again, this is a reputation thing. She used to be much higher but now she's damaged goods. I'd still like to do her though.
8) Scarlett Johanssen - Something about her. I'm not sure what it is. But ooo wee.
7) Kate Beckinsale - I love the British accent. Totally wanted to bang her after seeing Serendipity
6) Alicia Keys - She just keeps looking hotter and hotter in her videos.
5) Jennifer Garner - Ever seen Alias?
4) Heidi Klum - Don't really need an explanation here.
3) Jennifer Anniston - She's Rachel from Friends. Rachel.
2) Jessica Simpson - I really wasn't a fan of hers at first but she's growing on me. Plus, who doesn't like huge boobs.
1) Angelina Jolie - I just imagine things with her would be downright SILLY!
Top 10 Songs I Could Listen To Again & Again (debated the universal number one with some buddies while up in a bar in Baltimore after an Orioles rainout...too drunk to remember all the one's they said, though)
10) Water Runs Dry - Boyz II Men - This is a personal favorite because it reminds me of my senior year in high school.
9) Away From the Sun - 3 Doors Down - Again, a personal favorite that reminds me of my trip to Las Vegas a couple years ago.
8) Changes - 2 Pac - Just a good upbeat song I never seem to get tired of.
7) Invisible Touch - Genesis - I mean, who can dislike this song?
6) Crossroads - Bone Thugs - Perhaps it's because I keep trying to learn all the lyrics, but this one never seems to get old
5) New York, New York - Frank Sinatra - Frank Sinatra songs in general never seem to get old with me, but this one is an institution. I can still see Paulie O in right.
4) What's Going On - Marvin Gaye - I have this on a mix of mine and I swear I listened to this song 12 times in a row. Man, he was good.
3) Living on a Prayer - Bon Jovi - It's the start of the song that gets me hooked, then I just let it play on. A karaoke favorite too.
2) Sweet Home Alabama - Skynard - Again, the start of the song just pulls me in every time.
1) Mo Money, Mo Problems - Biggie - This was the group's consensus pick following my recommendation. Who doesn't sing along to Biggie's part, honestly. "B-I-G-P-O-P-P-A, no info for the D-E-A. Federal agents...!!"
Top 10 Things That Piss Me Off
10) Spam and popups on my computer, and all these stupid fucking programs I have to download can't seem to stop them from fucking shit up on my computer
9) When I order a Captain and Coke and they give me a coke with a splash of Captain. I was more concerned with the Captain, that's why I said it FIRST.
8) Idiots at a blackjack table - These guys are costing me money because they're too dumb to learn how to play the game.
7) Paying a cover charge to get into a bar...not a club...a bar. No dancing, no band, just a bar. For example, VIDA in DC. At least they don't combine that with item #9, however.
6) Going into a clothing place and the shit is all over the place. Christ, pay somebody to put the clothes back on the shelves and hangers in the proper way. Old Navy falls victim to this, as do all the low-end clothing places like Marshalls and Nordstroms Rack. Shoe places like DSW are just as bad. I've told my girlfriend we need to leave when I see this. Terrible.
5) When people try to drop me off at a restaurant while they go and park the car, so that we secure a spot in line. It makes sense, but still pisses the fuck out of me. I always feel uneasy, it's like I haven't fully committed to eating there, or I have to wait alone, or they seat me and I'm looking for the driver...ugh.
4) Moe & Keith - These are my old colleagues from work that have really been a giant pain in my ass since they left the company and started their own business. I won't go into details, but man, they really piss me off.
3) 50 Cent - I really can't stand him. His raps sound like a retarded kid mumbling incoherent babble. Yes, I understand he's been shot in the face, but there are plenty of other things he could have done then. You don't see someone getting shot several times in the arm and becoming an NFL quarterback, do you? And if someone was stupid enough to pay him for that, he'd probably piss me off too. And I swear I've heard Candy Shop before...the first time he released it, when it was called Magic Stick.
2) Congested parking lots - People must forget they're still in their car when they are off the main roads and in a parking lot. People do the stupidest shit and there are pedestrians everywhere. My philosophy is, get into a parking spot ASAP, because my anger will rise with each passing second I'm still in my car.
1) Small children singing - There used to be an ad on TV during the day where children would sing nursery rhymes. If it was left on for more than a second, I really wanted to kill myself.
Until tomorrow...plenty of free time to write some useless shit when it's raining and Saturday.
By the way, check out my buddy Jay's new blog which dropped today:
http://www.notinthosewords.blogspot.com/
Yep, we'll come up with a topic and then debate who our top 10 would be. Simple game, let me get you started by putting forth some of my favorites. Top ten lists can change daily depending on how I'm feeling, so screw you if you disagree. Your comments and new top ten lists are always welcome. Perhaps I will interject my own opinion on a future post...thus the "volume 1" on this post. Anyway, here goes:
Top 10 Chicks I Want to Bang (your basic starter list)
10) J.Lo - This is more out of sheer reputation associated with seeing her ass. I would definitely have to do her doggie style or she'd be off the list.
9) Britney Spears - Again, this is a reputation thing. She used to be much higher but now she's damaged goods. I'd still like to do her though.
8) Scarlett Johanssen - Something about her. I'm not sure what it is. But ooo wee.
7) Kate Beckinsale - I love the British accent. Totally wanted to bang her after seeing Serendipity
6) Alicia Keys - She just keeps looking hotter and hotter in her videos.
5) Jennifer Garner - Ever seen Alias?
4) Heidi Klum - Don't really need an explanation here.
3) Jennifer Anniston - She's Rachel from Friends. Rachel.
2) Jessica Simpson - I really wasn't a fan of hers at first but she's growing on me. Plus, who doesn't like huge boobs.
1) Angelina Jolie - I just imagine things with her would be downright SILLY!
Top 10 Songs I Could Listen To Again & Again (debated the universal number one with some buddies while up in a bar in Baltimore after an Orioles rainout...too drunk to remember all the one's they said, though)
10) Water Runs Dry - Boyz II Men - This is a personal favorite because it reminds me of my senior year in high school.
9) Away From the Sun - 3 Doors Down - Again, a personal favorite that reminds me of my trip to Las Vegas a couple years ago.
8) Changes - 2 Pac - Just a good upbeat song I never seem to get tired of.
7) Invisible Touch - Genesis - I mean, who can dislike this song?
6) Crossroads - Bone Thugs - Perhaps it's because I keep trying to learn all the lyrics, but this one never seems to get old
5) New York, New York - Frank Sinatra - Frank Sinatra songs in general never seem to get old with me, but this one is an institution. I can still see Paulie O in right.
4) What's Going On - Marvin Gaye - I have this on a mix of mine and I swear I listened to this song 12 times in a row. Man, he was good.
3) Living on a Prayer - Bon Jovi - It's the start of the song that gets me hooked, then I just let it play on. A karaoke favorite too.
2) Sweet Home Alabama - Skynard - Again, the start of the song just pulls me in every time.
1) Mo Money, Mo Problems - Biggie - This was the group's consensus pick following my recommendation. Who doesn't sing along to Biggie's part, honestly. "B-I-G-P-O-P-P-A, no info for the D-E-A. Federal agents...!!"
Top 10 Things That Piss Me Off
10) Spam and popups on my computer, and all these stupid fucking programs I have to download can't seem to stop them from fucking shit up on my computer
9) When I order a Captain and Coke and they give me a coke with a splash of Captain. I was more concerned with the Captain, that's why I said it FIRST.
8) Idiots at a blackjack table - These guys are costing me money because they're too dumb to learn how to play the game.
7) Paying a cover charge to get into a bar...not a club...a bar. No dancing, no band, just a bar. For example, VIDA in DC. At least they don't combine that with item #9, however.
6) Going into a clothing place and the shit is all over the place. Christ, pay somebody to put the clothes back on the shelves and hangers in the proper way. Old Navy falls victim to this, as do all the low-end clothing places like Marshalls and Nordstroms Rack. Shoe places like DSW are just as bad. I've told my girlfriend we need to leave when I see this. Terrible.
5) When people try to drop me off at a restaurant while they go and park the car, so that we secure a spot in line. It makes sense, but still pisses the fuck out of me. I always feel uneasy, it's like I haven't fully committed to eating there, or I have to wait alone, or they seat me and I'm looking for the driver...ugh.
4) Moe & Keith - These are my old colleagues from work that have really been a giant pain in my ass since they left the company and started their own business. I won't go into details, but man, they really piss me off.
3) 50 Cent - I really can't stand him. His raps sound like a retarded kid mumbling incoherent babble. Yes, I understand he's been shot in the face, but there are plenty of other things he could have done then. You don't see someone getting shot several times in the arm and becoming an NFL quarterback, do you? And if someone was stupid enough to pay him for that, he'd probably piss me off too. And I swear I've heard Candy Shop before...the first time he released it, when it was called Magic Stick.
2) Congested parking lots - People must forget they're still in their car when they are off the main roads and in a parking lot. People do the stupidest shit and there are pedestrians everywhere. My philosophy is, get into a parking spot ASAP, because my anger will rise with each passing second I'm still in my car.
1) Small children singing - There used to be an ad on TV during the day where children would sing nursery rhymes. If it was left on for more than a second, I really wanted to kill myself.
Until tomorrow...plenty of free time to write some useless shit when it's raining and Saturday.
By the way, check out my buddy Jay's new blog which dropped today:
http://www.notinthosewords.blogspot.com/
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