I don't usually go on rants in my blog, but I figured I'd put this one down since I've been thinking about it a good bit. Plus, when I get good ideas (like having a spin-off of Friends with Joey in it only), I want it to be known by more than 3 people (should have written my own pilot)before it really happens and is butchered from what would have worked.
So anyway, I'm listening to the radio alot the last few days since I've been working out on the road, trying to resolve some of the tougher jobs my employees are unable to fix, and I realized something.
The 70's had Disco. The 80's had Pop. The 90's had grundge. And here we are 5 years into the 00's and what do we have?
Crap. That's what we have. It's like all the musicians just stopped caring about the quality of music that they put out, concerned more with the image they were projecting than the actual product. I blame MTV...and American Idol. Force feed people enough of something and they will eventually like it...that's a psychological phenomenon, and the record execs are counting on it. Don't believe me...look at Britney Spears and Jessica Simpson. No talent, lots of airtime, lots of image. But I'm not above it. I'll listen to 99.5. What choice do I have? But, it's not all crap.
So, I propose that now that we're falling into the back end of the decade, a strong movement be made towards something we can all get behind. What style of music is that?
The Remix
Everything is being redone. Movies. TV Shows. Hell, even the President is a remix. No one can come up with new music, so grab some of the old shit and bring it up to date with some new background beats, maybe a quick rap by Eve (she seems to be on every song) or Jay-Z...and we're good to go. This is the age of computers, use 'em.
And where do you start?
It seems obvious to me...Michael Jackson. This guy is hurting for cash, can't come up with a new hit as his last couple albums proved, but the old songs are still solid. I'm no P.Diddy, but if I was in the "business" I'd be on the phone with MJ seeing if he wants to do a remixes and mashups album a la Linkin Park/Jay-Z "Collision Course", then I'd be on the phone with those two, the above mentioned Eve, Gwen Stefani, Eminem (of course), The Game (for street cred...and not 50 Cent because I hate his rapping), and Rob Thomas (some one has to redo the Paul McCartney duets), plus some others...and here's what you get.
"Reconstructing Neverland" (Catchy title, I know...and deep on so many levels)
1) Linkin Park - Beat It (think of the beats...silly)
2) Jay-Z w. Beyonce - Dirty Diana (it just seemed like the right fit, plus the two of them should do something together...it would be nice)
3) Rob Thomas - Say, say, say (duh)
4) Eve - Human Nature (I think she's already done it)
5) Gwen Stefani - Black or White (it has that odd beat she seems to work with)
6) The Game - Rock With You (he seems to use old school beats)
7) Eminem - They Don't Care About Us (I'm pretty sure Eminem used these lyrics in one of his songs already)
8) Justin Timberlake - Pick a song...I mean seriously.
9) Usher - Billie Jean (pretty damned obvious choice to me...and think of the video)
10) John Mayer - The Way You Make Me Feel (this one's for the ladies)
11) Linkin Park (again) - Another Part of Me (This is the one I'd really like to hear)
12) 2Pac, Biggie, Aaliyah, and Left Eye - Man in the Mirror (They'll find a way)
I know I'd buy this CD. And if you don't think it would work, go talk to Alien Ant Farm.
Let the decade of Remixes and Mashups begin.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Let it Ride Some More
The lucky streak continues...at least with the poker. In football on Friday, we lost to a bunch of ghetto punks (lots of smack talk and hootin and hollering) since my bro had to play on a bad ankle and tossed 5 INTs...though they only won, 14-6, and we had a bullshit call overturn a TD for us. In basketball, we took the #2 ranked team to OT with only a 5-man team, only to lose by 1. I had a game winning shot opportunity with 5 secs on the clock, but hit back rim. But let's not dwell on the down times...the poker streak is continuing.
I won a $20 buy-in tourney with 7 other guys at my buddy, Langley's, place last night, pocketing $100. Yeah, I know, poker on a Tuesday night?!! I'm a bit dead right now since I didn't get to sleep til late and it's about 150 degrees outside and I was working out in it. I have never sweat so much in my life. (I really wish this was a Family Guy episode so I could pan away to a time when I would have sweat more...i.e, the time I let Apollo train me so that I could beat up Mr. T)
Back to Poker. It wasn't an easy win, though I jumped out to an early lead and more or less hung around playing conservatively while the numbers dropped a bit. Late in the tourney, I had some highlight moments.
Highlight #1 (perhaps not 100% accurate): Dealt a K, 9 suited (spades). Bidding is minimal for the first round, so I hang around. Two more spades (one's the ace, other is a low card) come up on the flop and I don't pair up with the third card (want to say it's a 6)...so I'm sitting flush draw. Bidding is still minimal which makes me happy, since it appears no one has a pair of aces. After the betting, there's three of us left. Turn is a 9, so I've got a pair, which could be the high pair, and still a shot at the flush. Edwin goes all-in with the short stack, then Pogue comes back over the top with the call and sizable raise. Not sure what he has, but his stack is more valuable to me than Edwin's, so I hope to buy his portion with an all-in of my own. (good move...????) HE FUCKING CALLS. (...probably not) But you already know what happens...he flips over his two pair, Edwin flips over his pocket spades (queen high) and I'm praying for a spade. And god delivers. Nut flush.
Highlight #2: I've got two pair off the flop, I bet big each go round, and I've got a small stack left after the river. I'm in a head-to-head with Carter and he's got much more chips than me. There's a possible straight draw on the table now...and that's got me questioning what to do. Then Carter calls me all-in. Lots o' money in the pot and I've got two pair. But is it enough?? Not for me. I fold it...and live to fight another hand. (Carter had the straight)
And I did fight another hand, went all-in and doubled up a couple times, re-established myself as the chip leader and bullied the other final two (Langley & Carter) until they were forced to take all-ins with less than spectacular hands. Victory was mine and the luck continues.
Let it Ride.
I won a $20 buy-in tourney with 7 other guys at my buddy, Langley's, place last night, pocketing $100. Yeah, I know, poker on a Tuesday night?!! I'm a bit dead right now since I didn't get to sleep til late and it's about 150 degrees outside and I was working out in it. I have never sweat so much in my life. (I really wish this was a Family Guy episode so I could pan away to a time when I would have sweat more...i.e, the time I let Apollo train me so that I could beat up Mr. T)
Back to Poker. It wasn't an easy win, though I jumped out to an early lead and more or less hung around playing conservatively while the numbers dropped a bit. Late in the tourney, I had some highlight moments.
Highlight #1 (perhaps not 100% accurate): Dealt a K, 9 suited (spades). Bidding is minimal for the first round, so I hang around. Two more spades (one's the ace, other is a low card) come up on the flop and I don't pair up with the third card (want to say it's a 6)...so I'm sitting flush draw. Bidding is still minimal which makes me happy, since it appears no one has a pair of aces. After the betting, there's three of us left. Turn is a 9, so I've got a pair, which could be the high pair, and still a shot at the flush. Edwin goes all-in with the short stack, then Pogue comes back over the top with the call and sizable raise. Not sure what he has, but his stack is more valuable to me than Edwin's, so I hope to buy his portion with an all-in of my own. (good move...????) HE FUCKING CALLS. (...probably not) But you already know what happens...he flips over his two pair, Edwin flips over his pocket spades (queen high) and I'm praying for a spade. And god delivers. Nut flush.
Highlight #2: I've got two pair off the flop, I bet big each go round, and I've got a small stack left after the river. I'm in a head-to-head with Carter and he's got much more chips than me. There's a possible straight draw on the table now...and that's got me questioning what to do. Then Carter calls me all-in. Lots o' money in the pot and I've got two pair. But is it enough?? Not for me. I fold it...and live to fight another hand. (Carter had the straight)
And I did fight another hand, went all-in and doubled up a couple times, re-established myself as the chip leader and bullied the other final two (Langley & Carter) until they were forced to take all-ins with less than spectacular hands. Victory was mine and the luck continues.
Let it Ride.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Ridiculous Bets 3 & 4
Saturday was a good night for gambling and so I've added these two to my collection during my drunken spouting at Ri Ra...though they are several months away from collection:
Bet #3: I said, "Cowboys win more games than the Redskins this season" and Evan put $5 on it. As a Redskins fan, this is truly a sad day...but the Redskins offense is even sadder.
Bet #4: Back on the right side of a Skins bet, I bet Zack $10 the Redskins would have a better record than the Bears"
All in all, I figure the Redskins to have a 6-10 record, Cowboys to be 11-5 (and go to the Super Bowl...you heard it here first), with the shitty Bears going 2-14.
Bet #3: I said, "Cowboys win more games than the Redskins this season" and Evan put $5 on it. As a Redskins fan, this is truly a sad day...but the Redskins offense is even sadder.
Bet #4: Back on the right side of a Skins bet, I bet Zack $10 the Redskins would have a better record than the Bears"
All in all, I figure the Redskins to have a 6-10 record, Cowboys to be 11-5 (and go to the Super Bowl...you heard it here first), with the shitty Bears going 2-14.
Tour De Rock Creek
So, about two months ago, Amy and I decided that we wanted to go biking. I did not have a bike and haven't had one since I was like 13, so we took a trip to the Performance Bike Shop to pick one up. I figured I'd start using it if I had one and maybe even bike to work since my office is only about a mile from my house.
Well, unfortunately Performance Bike Shop doesn't work like Toys R Us used to and they would not let me walk out with a bike that day...instead I got a claim sheet and had to return four days later to grab my shiny new, perfectly greased and calibrated, blue and silver Boulder SE mountain bike with front end shocks. Yeah, might have been a little overkill but you never know when I might be driving in the middle of the mountains with some buddies and decide to do some off-roading (huh?)
Glad I got that bike, because it has been sitting nicely in my garage since the day I bought it...until Sunday.
Sunday was a pretty nice day, so we decided it was time we get prepped and bike. Now, I remember being 13, and getting prepped for a bike ride meant putting on your shoes, and not much else. Apparently things have changed, because we had to fill the water bottles, attach the storage pouch for my wallet and cell. phone (we could fall and require assistance...so fuck off), inflate both tires on Amy's bike, attach the bike rack to the back of my car so we could drive to Rock Creek Park, put the bikes on the rack. SHIT!
My bike doesn't fit. The rack was Amy's and apparently my bike is too extreme for this rack, which is also bending the spoiler on the back of my car. We're going old school. We leave from the house and go wherever. Actually, I only live about a mile from Rock Creek Park so we head out and the journey is off.
They are right about the whole "like riding a bicycle" thing...it's like I'm thirteen again. Well, except for the size of my nuts, which have apparently grown and don't quite belong jammed onto this seat. But hey, that's what getting in touch with nature is all about...feeling a dull pain in your balls.
So, we make it to the Rock Creek Park path right next to Rockville Pike and then start cruisin'. Before we know it, we've crossed Connecticut Avenue and we're seeing signs that say DC is only 5.9 miles. I'm up for it. So, we push on and before you know it we cross East-West Highway. Amy is lagging a little behind but I keep my pace slow so that we're within about 10-20 feet of each other. By this point, I'm feeling pretty comfortable on my bike, so I'm biking with one hand, bolting off into the grass whenever I get bored, and trying to make the bike do a wheelie. No luck on the wheelie, but it did hop like a '64 Impala.
Next thing I know, we're in the middle of the forest on a street that cars are not allowed on and I can only assume DC is getting close. We haven't seen a sign for a while and we're probably about 7 miles into our biking. More than I expected and much more than Amy did. That's when things start to break down.
Apparently, Amy doesn't believe in the biking equivalent to the runner's high, because now she's asking where we are... and if I know where we're going... and her butt is hurting from the seat. Ugh.
I can't really be too upset with her since we've been biking for a while now and I don't think she figured we'd be going for this long or far...but how do we get back?
We see signs for the zoo (did we really make it to DC?), and there's a main road heading east so I take it. Amy is livid and refuses to go any further, insisting on walking. She's really lagging behind, so I get off my bike, walk back to her and begin pushing both our bikes up this path along the main road. Of course, it's all uphill...plus I'm really not sure what the road is.
When we get to an intersection, we finally find out that we have, in fact, biked all the way into DC. We are on Military Road to the east of Connecticut Avenue, and I might as well be wearing a yellow shirt. I'm pretty proud of myself and Amy just wants to sit down. But at least I now know where I am, and I have a plan.
We take Military Road over to Nebraska and then shoot down to Tenleytown where I grab myself a bike lock from the bike place there (forgot that when I got the bike) to tie up the bikes, and we head into Guapo's. Nothing ends a long ass bike ride like Mexican Food. When we finish up, we decide to take the metro home and bike the last mile from the metro to our place.
Now I don't know how much fun and adventure Lance Armstrong has in France, but I'm pretty sure it can't compete with this...and he certainly didn't get any Mexican Fried Ice Cream.
Well, unfortunately Performance Bike Shop doesn't work like Toys R Us used to and they would not let me walk out with a bike that day...instead I got a claim sheet and had to return four days later to grab my shiny new, perfectly greased and calibrated, blue and silver Boulder SE mountain bike with front end shocks. Yeah, might have been a little overkill but you never know when I might be driving in the middle of the mountains with some buddies and decide to do some off-roading (huh?)
Glad I got that bike, because it has been sitting nicely in my garage since the day I bought it...until Sunday.
Sunday was a pretty nice day, so we decided it was time we get prepped and bike. Now, I remember being 13, and getting prepped for a bike ride meant putting on your shoes, and not much else. Apparently things have changed, because we had to fill the water bottles, attach the storage pouch for my wallet and cell. phone (we could fall and require assistance...so fuck off), inflate both tires on Amy's bike, attach the bike rack to the back of my car so we could drive to Rock Creek Park, put the bikes on the rack. SHIT!
My bike doesn't fit. The rack was Amy's and apparently my bike is too extreme for this rack, which is also bending the spoiler on the back of my car. We're going old school. We leave from the house and go wherever. Actually, I only live about a mile from Rock Creek Park so we head out and the journey is off.
They are right about the whole "like riding a bicycle" thing...it's like I'm thirteen again. Well, except for the size of my nuts, which have apparently grown and don't quite belong jammed onto this seat. But hey, that's what getting in touch with nature is all about...feeling a dull pain in your balls.
So, we make it to the Rock Creek Park path right next to Rockville Pike and then start cruisin'. Before we know it, we've crossed Connecticut Avenue and we're seeing signs that say DC is only 5.9 miles. I'm up for it. So, we push on and before you know it we cross East-West Highway. Amy is lagging a little behind but I keep my pace slow so that we're within about 10-20 feet of each other. By this point, I'm feeling pretty comfortable on my bike, so I'm biking with one hand, bolting off into the grass whenever I get bored, and trying to make the bike do a wheelie. No luck on the wheelie, but it did hop like a '64 Impala.
Next thing I know, we're in the middle of the forest on a street that cars are not allowed on and I can only assume DC is getting close. We haven't seen a sign for a while and we're probably about 7 miles into our biking. More than I expected and much more than Amy did. That's when things start to break down.
Apparently, Amy doesn't believe in the biking equivalent to the runner's high, because now she's asking where we are... and if I know where we're going... and her butt is hurting from the seat. Ugh.
I can't really be too upset with her since we've been biking for a while now and I don't think she figured we'd be going for this long or far...but how do we get back?
We see signs for the zoo (did we really make it to DC?), and there's a main road heading east so I take it. Amy is livid and refuses to go any further, insisting on walking. She's really lagging behind, so I get off my bike, walk back to her and begin pushing both our bikes up this path along the main road. Of course, it's all uphill...plus I'm really not sure what the road is.
When we get to an intersection, we finally find out that we have, in fact, biked all the way into DC. We are on Military Road to the east of Connecticut Avenue, and I might as well be wearing a yellow shirt. I'm pretty proud of myself and Amy just wants to sit down. But at least I now know where I am, and I have a plan.
We take Military Road over to Nebraska and then shoot down to Tenleytown where I grab myself a bike lock from the bike place there (forgot that when I got the bike) to tie up the bikes, and we head into Guapo's. Nothing ends a long ass bike ride like Mexican Food. When we finish up, we decide to take the metro home and bike the last mile from the metro to our place.
Now I don't know how much fun and adventure Lance Armstrong has in France, but I'm pretty sure it can't compete with this...and he certainly didn't get any Mexican Fried Ice Cream.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Are You High? Vol. 1
In a new addition to my blog, I will be adding, on a very random basis, (because I don't know if I can come up with shit like this all the time), some new hypothetical questions which you would likely need to be high in order to properly evaluate and answer. This first one came up today while I was driving in the van with one of my employee's, Matt.
I'm not sure how it came up, but we're not sure if there is a good answer, since it's hypothetical and we weren't high:
There are two people. One is a brain dead vegetable who has been in the hospital for a while and has little chance of being anything more than a lump. Physically, his body is in fine enough condition, but there is no chance he will regain his motor skills, etc. The second person has just gotten into a car accident which crushed his entire body from the waist down, and killed him.
In this hypothetical scenario, a brain transplant is possible. If it is possible for them to put person #2's brain into person #1's body, who would be considered the "donor" and who would be responsible for the medical bills associated with the transplant? Also, after the procedure is completed, who would the person be?
Fire up your bong and give me your thoughts? I'm gonna go take a dump now.
I'm not sure how it came up, but we're not sure if there is a good answer, since it's hypothetical and we weren't high:
There are two people. One is a brain dead vegetable who has been in the hospital for a while and has little chance of being anything more than a lump. Physically, his body is in fine enough condition, but there is no chance he will regain his motor skills, etc. The second person has just gotten into a car accident which crushed his entire body from the waist down, and killed him.
In this hypothetical scenario, a brain transplant is possible. If it is possible for them to put person #2's brain into person #1's body, who would be considered the "donor" and who would be responsible for the medical bills associated with the transplant? Also, after the procedure is completed, who would the person be?
Fire up your bong and give me your thoughts? I'm gonna go take a dump now.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Top 10: TV Land
Sorry it's been so long since I posted a Top 10 List everyone could debate over, but the smoke has now cleared and I have returned to the consistent drudgery that is the Summer of the Poolman. With vacation long behind me and a long way in front of me, my escape from reality will have to again be TV. And what better way to thank TV for raising me for the first 17 years of my life (lost touch for a while with college then work..but we're back now, thanks to Tivo), than to present to you:
Top 10 Best TV Characters Ever
10) Dan Fielding - Night Court: Dan paved the way for blatant sexism on television. He should be praised.
9) Jack Tripper - Three's Company: He lived with two women, worked as a chef for a living, and hung out with Larry, picking up chicks, at the Regal Beagle. Sounds like a pretty good life to me.
8) Glen Quagmire - Family Guy: Can't really say much about Quagmire that this quote doesn't really show:
Auctioner: Our first item is a pair of panties confiscated from a prostitute.
Quagmire: Fifty bucks.
Auctioner: She had nine STDs.
Quagmire: Forty-five bucks.
Auctioner: And when we caught her she wet herself.
Quagmire: Fifty bucks.
7) Cliff Clavin - Cheers: What a great show, with amazing characters. Cliffy's stories and mentioning of his mother never grew old. Which reminds me, I need a beer.
6) Eric Cartman - South Park: Another cartoon favorite, and not the last of the list. He's really carried the show. I love it when they make him act all serious like when he was trying to sell cow fetus, "You're breaking my balls here man."
5) Kramer - Seinfeld: Stole the show everytime he was on. His body movement and facial expressions are sometimes funnier than the lines in an entire show. Gggggiddy up.
4) Norm - Cheers: I wouldn't be surprised if Norm is the man many modeled their lives after...and that's sad. But funny...see Norm always brought the funny.
3) Homer Simpson - The Simpsons: It can all be summed up by this great line: "Ahhhh Marge, but Sipowicz does." Wait, no it can't, but you get the idea.
2) George Castanza - Seinfeld: I've seen the episode about 20 times or more, but everytime George tells the story about pulling the golfball out of the whale's blowhole, I lose it. "At that moment, I was a marine biologist."
1) Al Bundy - Married With Children: Like there was any competition. Al Bundy is without a doubt the greatest character ever put on television. If anyone dares to debate this fact, you should stand up, take off your pants, put your dick on the table, and smash it with the closest blunt object you can find, because you don't deserve to have one. The episodes where Al ends up "winning" in some way are some of the greatest moments in TV history. I still rest my hand in my pants when I watch TV to this day. God bless FOX for not giving a fuck.
Top 10 Best TV Characters Ever
10) Dan Fielding - Night Court: Dan paved the way for blatant sexism on television. He should be praised.
9) Jack Tripper - Three's Company: He lived with two women, worked as a chef for a living, and hung out with Larry, picking up chicks, at the Regal Beagle. Sounds like a pretty good life to me.
8) Glen Quagmire - Family Guy: Can't really say much about Quagmire that this quote doesn't really show:
Auctioner: Our first item is a pair of panties confiscated from a prostitute.
Quagmire: Fifty bucks.
Auctioner: She had nine STDs.
Quagmire: Forty-five bucks.
Auctioner: And when we caught her she wet herself.
Quagmire: Fifty bucks.
7) Cliff Clavin - Cheers: What a great show, with amazing characters. Cliffy's stories and mentioning of his mother never grew old. Which reminds me, I need a beer.
6) Eric Cartman - South Park: Another cartoon favorite, and not the last of the list. He's really carried the show. I love it when they make him act all serious like when he was trying to sell cow fetus, "You're breaking my balls here man."
5) Kramer - Seinfeld: Stole the show everytime he was on. His body movement and facial expressions are sometimes funnier than the lines in an entire show. Gggggiddy up.
4) Norm - Cheers: I wouldn't be surprised if Norm is the man many modeled their lives after...and that's sad. But funny...see Norm always brought the funny.
3) Homer Simpson - The Simpsons: It can all be summed up by this great line: "Ahhhh Marge, but Sipowicz does." Wait, no it can't, but you get the idea.
2) George Castanza - Seinfeld: I've seen the episode about 20 times or more, but everytime George tells the story about pulling the golfball out of the whale's blowhole, I lose it. "At that moment, I was a marine biologist."
1) Al Bundy - Married With Children: Like there was any competition. Al Bundy is without a doubt the greatest character ever put on television. If anyone dares to debate this fact, you should stand up, take off your pants, put your dick on the table, and smash it with the closest blunt object you can find, because you don't deserve to have one. The episodes where Al ends up "winning" in some way are some of the greatest moments in TV history. I still rest my hand in my pants when I watch TV to this day. God bless FOX for not giving a fuck.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Let It Ride
A solid Friday night for me to begin last weekend. Our football team, fresh off a disappointing 21-6 loss to start the new season, bounced back with an impressive 22-6 beating of a somewhat athletic team. The highlights for this game had to be our recovery of a missed field goal to set up an easy TD; two safeties; an 8-catch game for me, including a 30 yard bomb; and one of their defensive lineman popping off this winner towards my brother, Kevin, after he evaded a sack to throw to me:
DL: Man, I had you. That is some bullshit.
Kevin: You didn't have me, I threw it before you got my flag.
(and the obvious next line)
DL: Fuck you, N&*$#. I'll cut you.
(What!!??? Did someone forget to take their medication. This is rec football?!)
This lineman was weird to begin with...he kept snapping his fingers right in front of our O-lineman's face, and came over to chuck me off the line at one point and did the same thing.
Glad we beat those punks. This could be the start of something good.
Let It Ride.
On to some Hold 'em Poker down at my buddy, Scott's, place. We're playing a $20 buy-in tournament and within 2 hands, my friend, Dave, has already been taken out, by two big wins for my other friend, Langley. Langley has now doubled up his stack, plus some and we've barely begun. Never a good sign...
But then his luck changes and my luck continues from earlier. I knock out three straight players and now I'm the chip leader with only Greg and Langley (who has been nursing his chips since the quick start) left to play. Greg makes some bold all in move at the wrong time and he's reeling as I flip over my Ace/King and push him out of the tourney. Did I mention only the top two get money? That'll be Greg's trend for the remainder of the night, but I digress.
Langley's just not getting the hands and soon I've got him all in and the cash is mine. Victory is mine again.
Let it Ride.
We play two more Tourneys before the night is done and low and behold, I pull out another victory over Kupe, as Greg settles for a solid no-pay, third-place finish. Victory is mine once again...but will it hold for my next sporting event.
Let it Ride.
Basketball...it's Monday night. We have not won one game (except by forfeit) and we are matched up against the worst team in the league. This should be the easiest victory of them all. We've even got our tall Tim Duncan look alike back playing with us. And then they show up...four of them. You need five to play a full game, we've gone over this in a previous blog. So, we bitch slap these punks (well, not really but this is my blog and that's how I'm gonna remember this) for the whole first half...and it's over. By forfeit. Mother Fuckers. That was so unsaaattiiisssffyyyyiinnnggg. (Rounders)
Again, victory is ours. We have the win and have secured the 7th place seed going into the playoffs next week. But I did take a viscious elbow to the nose and mouth during this worthless game. And now as I sit here, my nose is throbbing (it stopped bleeding about 10 minutes after the game) and my head hurts.
Though I feel like I crapped out. I'm still in the game. Until Friday....
Let it Ride.
DL: Man, I had you. That is some bullshit.
Kevin: You didn't have me, I threw it before you got my flag.
(and the obvious next line)
DL: Fuck you, N&*$#. I'll cut you.
(What!!??? Did someone forget to take their medication. This is rec football?!)
This lineman was weird to begin with...he kept snapping his fingers right in front of our O-lineman's face, and came over to chuck me off the line at one point and did the same thing.
Glad we beat those punks. This could be the start of something good.
Let It Ride.
On to some Hold 'em Poker down at my buddy, Scott's, place. We're playing a $20 buy-in tournament and within 2 hands, my friend, Dave, has already been taken out, by two big wins for my other friend, Langley. Langley has now doubled up his stack, plus some and we've barely begun. Never a good sign...
But then his luck changes and my luck continues from earlier. I knock out three straight players and now I'm the chip leader with only Greg and Langley (who has been nursing his chips since the quick start) left to play. Greg makes some bold all in move at the wrong time and he's reeling as I flip over my Ace/King and push him out of the tourney. Did I mention only the top two get money? That'll be Greg's trend for the remainder of the night, but I digress.
Langley's just not getting the hands and soon I've got him all in and the cash is mine. Victory is mine again.
Let it Ride.
We play two more Tourneys before the night is done and low and behold, I pull out another victory over Kupe, as Greg settles for a solid no-pay, third-place finish. Victory is mine once again...but will it hold for my next sporting event.
Let it Ride.
Basketball...it's Monday night. We have not won one game (except by forfeit) and we are matched up against the worst team in the league. This should be the easiest victory of them all. We've even got our tall Tim Duncan look alike back playing with us. And then they show up...four of them. You need five to play a full game, we've gone over this in a previous blog. So, we bitch slap these punks (well, not really but this is my blog and that's how I'm gonna remember this) for the whole first half...and it's over. By forfeit. Mother Fuckers. That was so unsaaattiiisssffyyyyiinnnggg. (Rounders)
Again, victory is ours. We have the win and have secured the 7th place seed going into the playoffs next week. But I did take a viscious elbow to the nose and mouth during this worthless game. And now as I sit here, my nose is throbbing (it stopped bleeding about 10 minutes after the game) and my head hurts.
Though I feel like I crapped out. I'm still in the game. Until Friday....
Let it Ride.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Fantasy Baseball, Part 2
Major League Baseball returns to action today and with it comes the second half of the fantasy baseball season. My three fantasy teams are primed for a solid finish, with Hurts to Pee (my Yahoo Rotisserie team) having held strong in first place for most of the first half. I've pulled off some pretty solid trades and free agent pickups, including this gem in my CBS Keeper League: Kolb for Bonderman, right before Kolb lost his closing gig. A solid move, indeed. So, now I pass onto you some helpful advice as you hope to pull out your second half victories and comebacks.
Top 5 guys to Trade AWAY:
5. Preston Wilson - He's come to DC, which is exciting for the local squad, but is not good for fantasy purposes. RFK is a bad place for hitters, and it certainly is no Coors Field. He could surprise me since Frank Robinson is arguably the manager of the year (sorry, Bobby Cox), but is it worth the risk?
4. Jeff Kent - LA is not usually a good place for hitters and he left the All-Star game pretty quickly for some reason. His stock is high, make the move.
3. AJ Burnett - This is his first year back from arm surgery and though, he's been doing well, he may start to weaken as the season goes on. Also, he's in the trade rumors and a trade usually ends up hurting a pitcher...especially if he comes to the AL where there is one more batter to face.
2. Jon Garland - If I had to tell you this, you're probably in the bottom half of your league any way, even with Garland's stats. He's not an overpowering pitcher and doesn't have a track record to justify his numbers. He's never going to be worth more than he is now...get rid of him.
1. Brian Roberts - I'm a big fan of this guy after reading an article about him and his dad in ESPN the Magazine, but his stats are more surprising than a Brady Anderson 50 HR season. He'll still be up there in SB by the end of the season, but the HR and AVG are gonna take a big dip. I'd move him for a legit stud while you can.
Top 5 Guys to Trade FOR:
5. Scott Olsen - This young gun has a track record for high K/IP and Florida has a track record for quality young guns. Seems like a no brainer to me, and you might not even need to trade for him (waivers).
4. Matt Lawton - This is a more risky move and would need to be done quickly, but if he gets traded to the Yankees to play CF, you won't be able to get him away from his owner...because he'll be nasty.
3. Sammy Sosa - I have faith in old Sammy...even without his Cream and Cork. I think the move to DH will help keep him fresher, and seeing him end the season with 30 HR does not seem unrealistic to me...but translates to 21 second half HRs. That's nice.
2. Lance Berkman - He's healthy and hopefully his owner hasn't really noticed the hot couple weeks he's had. Even if he has, make the move for Berkman. He'll put up a .310-40-24-50 second half and I'm sure you won't have to give up something comparable to those lofty goals.
1. Jimmy Rollins - His stock is not really low, but Thome is bound to return to health in the second half and the team is likely to start running a lot more if they start falling out of contention. If that happens, I see Rollins stealing 40-50 (No, I'm not on crack) and getting much more Runs in the second half. The guys you move to get these stats will be worth it.
That's my advice, take it or leave it. I'll write more about Fantasy in September when I am inches away from an unprecedented 3 league sweep (actually, third one will be tough).
Top 5 guys to Trade AWAY:
5. Preston Wilson - He's come to DC, which is exciting for the local squad, but is not good for fantasy purposes. RFK is a bad place for hitters, and it certainly is no Coors Field. He could surprise me since Frank Robinson is arguably the manager of the year (sorry, Bobby Cox), but is it worth the risk?
4. Jeff Kent - LA is not usually a good place for hitters and he left the All-Star game pretty quickly for some reason. His stock is high, make the move.
3. AJ Burnett - This is his first year back from arm surgery and though, he's been doing well, he may start to weaken as the season goes on. Also, he's in the trade rumors and a trade usually ends up hurting a pitcher...especially if he comes to the AL where there is one more batter to face.
2. Jon Garland - If I had to tell you this, you're probably in the bottom half of your league any way, even with Garland's stats. He's not an overpowering pitcher and doesn't have a track record to justify his numbers. He's never going to be worth more than he is now...get rid of him.
1. Brian Roberts - I'm a big fan of this guy after reading an article about him and his dad in ESPN the Magazine, but his stats are more surprising than a Brady Anderson 50 HR season. He'll still be up there in SB by the end of the season, but the HR and AVG are gonna take a big dip. I'd move him for a legit stud while you can.
Top 5 Guys to Trade FOR:
5. Scott Olsen - This young gun has a track record for high K/IP and Florida has a track record for quality young guns. Seems like a no brainer to me, and you might not even need to trade for him (waivers).
4. Matt Lawton - This is a more risky move and would need to be done quickly, but if he gets traded to the Yankees to play CF, you won't be able to get him away from his owner...because he'll be nasty.
3. Sammy Sosa - I have faith in old Sammy...even without his Cream and Cork. I think the move to DH will help keep him fresher, and seeing him end the season with 30 HR does not seem unrealistic to me...but translates to 21 second half HRs. That's nice.
2. Lance Berkman - He's healthy and hopefully his owner hasn't really noticed the hot couple weeks he's had. Even if he has, make the move for Berkman. He'll put up a .310-40-24-50 second half and I'm sure you won't have to give up something comparable to those lofty goals.
1. Jimmy Rollins - His stock is not really low, but Thome is bound to return to health in the second half and the team is likely to start running a lot more if they start falling out of contention. If that happens, I see Rollins stealing 40-50 (No, I'm not on crack) and getting much more Runs in the second half. The guys you move to get these stats will be worth it.
That's my advice, take it or leave it. I'll write more about Fantasy in September when I am inches away from an unprecedented 3 league sweep (actually, third one will be tough).
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Stupid House
Why do people want to own a house? It seems all well and good since property values are increasing now, but you're still paying something each month...call it what you want (mortgage/rent). And with all these new loans available, you barely build any equity to begin with. I'm being somewhat facetious as I am well aware of the actual benefits, but I bring this up because since moving into my new house (which is 20 years old), I am flooded (literally) with problems and upkeep.
I've written about the leak in my basement plumbing, which has still not been completely fixed, though I have been quoted $875 for drywall work, following the $180 I paid for the plumber. Then you all got to enjoy reading about my green thumb antics as I redid my front garden including building a stone retaining wall...and my $80 tree died. Now, let's add to that list some new dilemmas that these repeated thunderstorms have brought to my attention:
1) I have a leak in a bay window in my living room that seems to include some warping of the wood exterior....swell
2) Water somehow comes into my front entry when we get the real bad rains...not sure exactly how.
3) Water somehow comes into my back door to the deck...not sure how to fix it.
4) The instant-hot spigot in my kitchen is no longer hot
5) My door bell broke with all the power surges
6) My front exterior light cracked...who knows why.
7) My front door is all dried out and starting to crack
8) My deck needs to be re-sealed as the wood is starting to show signs of aging
Well, something has to be done about this shit...so where was I on a beautiful Sunday morning:
At Home Depot. (maybe Bed, Bath and Beyond...if there's time)
I think I've already addressed my hatred for Home Depot in previous blogs, especially on weekends when women who feel they can drive an SUV...or any car for that matter...flock into the Garden Center and nearly kill everyone in their path. So, of course, I parked on the upper level. I'll walk, just spare my life.
Finding shit in Home Depot is like trying to locate your car after a Cypress Hill concert, so I'm fucking wandering around with Amy for almost an hour and a half with a glazed look, wondering why door bells are not with the front doors, but rather at the end of the lighting aisle? At least they got rid of the tools cage with the 4 foot wide opening as the only way in or out. That was always enjoyable.
So, we get all our stuff...totaling over $180 and the projects begin.
I couldn't do it all in one day, so we aimed for completing the front door restaining, the new exterior light and the doorbell this Sunday...though we picked up supplies for the deck and ideas for the front entry leak. And we're off.
And so is the front door...within minutes of our return. I carry it down to the garage and lay it down to sand off the old stain...with my trusty new power sander (seriously, sand paper and arm strength is not how I roll). Chloe is absolutely hating this because she does not want to be locked up inside, or on her chain in the yard, and she's afraid of the sander. Perhaps she was on to something, because I forgot that one should have a face mask when sanding shit. I and my lungs will never forget again though.
The door gets nicely sanded and is good to get its coatings, but I've also got to handle the frame work around the front door. If I had any foresight, I would have figured that we should have sanded the frame while the door was still on to block the dust from entering the house and getting on everything. But would this be a story if I did?
Everything within about 20 feet of the front door is covered in reddish dust, including the leather couch, my winter jackets (which are still in the front entry), the dining room table, the dog, and the stair rail. Oh, and who can forget my new slick floor....and I thought the basketball courts were slick when they got dusty?
New task: 9) Vacuum the entire first floor and stairwell
So, I put on one coat, spill some on the front steps, and now I've got some time to kill. In goes the exterior light.
Actually that was no sweat...$10 well spent. Back to the door.
Second coat goes on nice, It's been about 5 hours of work now, dog is being a real howling pain, It's about 100 degrees outside and the AC is cranking with no front door, and Amy looks at the Polyeurethane sealant we bought, which is the next coat.
"FOR INTERIOR USE ONLY."
That's it. Fuck it. I am not driving back to Home Depot again. I am done. That door went right up on its frame, screw the Urethane. It's gonna have to wait for another day. At least, I fixed the doorbell too.
Three and a half down, five and a half to go. Why do people want to own a house?
I've written about the leak in my basement plumbing, which has still not been completely fixed, though I have been quoted $875 for drywall work, following the $180 I paid for the plumber. Then you all got to enjoy reading about my green thumb antics as I redid my front garden including building a stone retaining wall...and my $80 tree died. Now, let's add to that list some new dilemmas that these repeated thunderstorms have brought to my attention:
1) I have a leak in a bay window in my living room that seems to include some warping of the wood exterior....swell
2) Water somehow comes into my front entry when we get the real bad rains...not sure exactly how.
3) Water somehow comes into my back door to the deck...not sure how to fix it.
4) The instant-hot spigot in my kitchen is no longer hot
5) My door bell broke with all the power surges
6) My front exterior light cracked...who knows why.
7) My front door is all dried out and starting to crack
8) My deck needs to be re-sealed as the wood is starting to show signs of aging
Well, something has to be done about this shit...so where was I on a beautiful Sunday morning:
At Home Depot. (maybe Bed, Bath and Beyond...if there's time)
I think I've already addressed my hatred for Home Depot in previous blogs, especially on weekends when women who feel they can drive an SUV...or any car for that matter...flock into the Garden Center and nearly kill everyone in their path. So, of course, I parked on the upper level. I'll walk, just spare my life.
Finding shit in Home Depot is like trying to locate your car after a Cypress Hill concert, so I'm fucking wandering around with Amy for almost an hour and a half with a glazed look, wondering why door bells are not with the front doors, but rather at the end of the lighting aisle? At least they got rid of the tools cage with the 4 foot wide opening as the only way in or out. That was always enjoyable.
So, we get all our stuff...totaling over $180 and the projects begin.
I couldn't do it all in one day, so we aimed for completing the front door restaining, the new exterior light and the doorbell this Sunday...though we picked up supplies for the deck and ideas for the front entry leak. And we're off.
And so is the front door...within minutes of our return. I carry it down to the garage and lay it down to sand off the old stain...with my trusty new power sander (seriously, sand paper and arm strength is not how I roll). Chloe is absolutely hating this because she does not want to be locked up inside, or on her chain in the yard, and she's afraid of the sander. Perhaps she was on to something, because I forgot that one should have a face mask when sanding shit. I and my lungs will never forget again though.
The door gets nicely sanded and is good to get its coatings, but I've also got to handle the frame work around the front door. If I had any foresight, I would have figured that we should have sanded the frame while the door was still on to block the dust from entering the house and getting on everything. But would this be a story if I did?
Everything within about 20 feet of the front door is covered in reddish dust, including the leather couch, my winter jackets (which are still in the front entry), the dining room table, the dog, and the stair rail. Oh, and who can forget my new slick floor....and I thought the basketball courts were slick when they got dusty?
New task: 9) Vacuum the entire first floor and stairwell
So, I put on one coat, spill some on the front steps, and now I've got some time to kill. In goes the exterior light.
Actually that was no sweat...$10 well spent. Back to the door.
Second coat goes on nice, It's been about 5 hours of work now, dog is being a real howling pain, It's about 100 degrees outside and the AC is cranking with no front door, and Amy looks at the Polyeurethane sealant we bought, which is the next coat.
"FOR INTERIOR USE ONLY."
That's it. Fuck it. I am not driving back to Home Depot again. I am done. That door went right up on its frame, screw the Urethane. It's gonna have to wait for another day. At least, I fixed the doorbell too.
Three and a half down, five and a half to go. Why do people want to own a house?
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Memory Lane
This past Saturday, I took a trip back to the street I grew up on to hang out at my buddy Greg's parents' swimming pool (yeah, we maintain it, of course). It's always weird to head over there, because my parents moved out of that neighborhood four years ago and the house I grew up in has been completely destroyed to put up a monsterous mansion.
This past weekend's visit was very special, however, because visiting along with me was my brother, Glen, who is living with me and Amy for the next few weeks while he tries to find a place to live here in DC.
As we drove up Greg's driveway, we saw it standing there in the corner...taunting us. The basketball hoop. Back when we were both in high school (and before then), our neighborhood group would come here and play 3-on-3 or 21 for hours. Greg's family would always provide ample lemonade and Farley's fruit snacks for breaks in the game, and the rim could always be counted on to make even the hardest bank shot fall softly into the hoop. But that was over 10 years ago. 10 years!
But who says you can't go back to where you came from. Within moments of our arrival, I searched out Greg's basketball and an old school brother-on-brother, 1-on-1 game began. Glen's been trapped in New Jersey studying and going to school, so needless to say, his game's a bit off. Plus, despite him being older than me, he's about 5 inches shorter than me. A spirited game, but he was no match, as I won 11-4 and we came away with only minor injuries. 10 years!
However, the competition does not die there. My brother and I are 18 months apart in age, so most of our life consisted of needless competition and fighting. No "game" is friendly if there is a shot your brother might be able to one up you and hold that one up for you to see for hours. And I could see the basketball dispatching left Glen with something to prove. Enter the tennis court.
Yeah...we suck at tennis. It's not a game either of us played outside of the requisite tennis playing during PE through school. If we can keep a volley going for more than 4 hits, it is truly a victory for both of us, regardless of who hits it "in" last. But nonetheless, Greg has a court, so we must compete. We're brothers, we must.
After an hour and a half of underhand serves, balls hit out of the court, and repeated outbursts of profanity, we are deadlocked in our shittiness, 6-6. I'm not great with the rules of tennis, so we consult the others for the rules of the tiebreaker, and the sudden death begins.
Sadly, too many unforced (though, not unexpected) errors later, and Glen is standing as the victor, 7-6 (7-3) after a one set match. Yeah, I didn't think we would last a whole set either. 10 YEARS!!
It's nice to have my brother back in the area, and this trip down Memory (Saunders) Lane was like living an episode of Wonder Years. Has anyone else seen Winnie Cooper in the new Stuff magazine, BTW. Aaahhhh, 10 years.
This past weekend's visit was very special, however, because visiting along with me was my brother, Glen, who is living with me and Amy for the next few weeks while he tries to find a place to live here in DC.
As we drove up Greg's driveway, we saw it standing there in the corner...taunting us. The basketball hoop. Back when we were both in high school (and before then), our neighborhood group would come here and play 3-on-3 or 21 for hours. Greg's family would always provide ample lemonade and Farley's fruit snacks for breaks in the game, and the rim could always be counted on to make even the hardest bank shot fall softly into the hoop. But that was over 10 years ago. 10 years!
But who says you can't go back to where you came from. Within moments of our arrival, I searched out Greg's basketball and an old school brother-on-brother, 1-on-1 game began. Glen's been trapped in New Jersey studying and going to school, so needless to say, his game's a bit off. Plus, despite him being older than me, he's about 5 inches shorter than me. A spirited game, but he was no match, as I won 11-4 and we came away with only minor injuries. 10 years!
However, the competition does not die there. My brother and I are 18 months apart in age, so most of our life consisted of needless competition and fighting. No "game" is friendly if there is a shot your brother might be able to one up you and hold that one up for you to see for hours. And I could see the basketball dispatching left Glen with something to prove. Enter the tennis court.
Yeah...we suck at tennis. It's not a game either of us played outside of the requisite tennis playing during PE through school. If we can keep a volley going for more than 4 hits, it is truly a victory for both of us, regardless of who hits it "in" last. But nonetheless, Greg has a court, so we must compete. We're brothers, we must.
After an hour and a half of underhand serves, balls hit out of the court, and repeated outbursts of profanity, we are deadlocked in our shittiness, 6-6. I'm not great with the rules of tennis, so we consult the others for the rules of the tiebreaker, and the sudden death begins.
Sadly, too many unforced (though, not unexpected) errors later, and Glen is standing as the victor, 7-6 (7-3) after a one set match. Yeah, I didn't think we would last a whole set either. 10 YEARS!!
It's nice to have my brother back in the area, and this trip down Memory (Saunders) Lane was like living an episode of Wonder Years. Has anyone else seen Winnie Cooper in the new Stuff magazine, BTW. Aaahhhh, 10 years.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
When's the next holiday?
Well, back to work today...definitely a major suck-fest as I pretty much dialed it in on Friday and wasn't in yesterday, so the callbacks and piled up work were at an all-time high. Luckily, nothing too pressing, though I'm in the "you know what, fuck you and your problems" mode so they wouldn't have gotten served anyway. Why? You ask. Because I'm back from the first local beach getaway I've had in almost 8 years and oh, was it nice. Here's a quick recap:
Friday: 11 AM
Departure from Rockville. I'm leaving work and my girlfriend (til Saturday night) behind to hitch a ride with my buddy Scott and his girlfriend (now fiance...congrats) Kelly to Dewey Beach. My buddy, Kupe, has a place down there which he and his girlfriend headed down to Thursday night with their dog, Takoma (the one with the widow's peak coloring). The trip ends up taking us a little over three hours, though it included two stops because we were sure we got lost. Stupid Yahoo maps. Our philosophy simply came down to "as long as the 'Beaches' signs kept counting down, we'd eventually make it to some beach."
Friday Night
After some dinner and card playing, the men headed out to The Cork & Bottle Rock 'n Roll bar for some late night drinks and to listen to two bands play. Decent scene, the bands were pretty good, though the self-proclaimed "Greatest Rock 'n Roll Bar in the World" sure served a crappy Capt. & Coke. The night ended with a frantic girlfriend calling me as our house developed leaks during what sounded like a Hurricane back home, and a trio of fatties hog tying and pulling us out to dance as the bar closed. Can't ask for much better than that, huh?
Saturday
Enjoyed some tasty fresh-made donuts from the Fractured Prune (stupid name, but good donuts) then headed out to the beach. It rained in the early part of the day, so beach time was limited and it wasn't that sunny, so I think I got a little overconfident with my skin's ability to battle the sun...more on that in a bit. The real battle of the weekend occurred once the sun went down and we entered the Cracked Claw or something like that. It was there that I learned that Crab Legs were available in the all-you-can eat variety. Fools...they obviously hadn't seen me at the Chinese Buffet. 50 crab legs later, they were forced to close the place...literally. (Damned late dinner, I could have gone for the century mark)
Sunday
More beach time...this time with sun. Apparently, having a redneck and shirt tan doesn't qualify you as being ready for SPF 8 oil at high noon. And who remembers to put suntan lotion on the tops of your feet? Not good times...but I've been worse off. The water was pretty cold and the beach was pretty rocky, but Kupe and I ventured into the water for a bit. Luckily, the shark sightings held off until Tuesday in Rehobeth so all limbs are still in tact...though Mr. Johnson seemed a bit cut off for a few moments as I left the water.
In the two days on the beach, there were plenty of sights including several Johnny Fratguys carrying two rafts full of beer and liquor into the ocean (quite the idea), a big-boobed chick who could throw a perfect football spiral 30 yards and contrasting ripped dude who threw like most other big-boobed chicks (pussy), and the highlight of the beach...Markie.
Markie (or MAAARRRRKKKKK!!!!!) was a small child who seemed to know how to piss off his mother by disappearing. It's not so much that he disappeared as she was arguably the worst parent to ever give birth to children...yes, plural, there were two others. Within moments of their arrival to our location on the beach, Markie had ran down to the water only to be yelled down with a chorus of gut-wrenching "MAAARRRRKKKK!!!!"'s and shrill quick, "Markie!"'s. This gathered the attention of everyone within 100 yards and that's when the real show began. The kids constantly disappeared and needed to take a piss, which seemed to be the worst possible thing in the world (worse than not squeezing it all out at a Nationals game). One girl ended up shitting her pants, I think, because her mom took her swimsuit bottom to the water to wash it out. Who does that? Of course, Markie disappeared during this exchange. And when it seemed that the mom had all she could handle, we got this outburst towards a 5 year old Markie:
"I don't know where your father is. Maybe when he gets here, you can ask him where he's been. Because you kids have been a real pain in my ass. You all keep having to go to the bathroom. This is unbelievable. You ask him where he's been when he gets here. Don't put me into that position. (WHAT!!??? This is arguably the worst thing I've ever heard)
And then he arrived. The only man that would have a woman like this: 6'0", 400 lbs, shaped like the Penguin, face like a Boston Terrier, pasty white skin, wearing a floppy hat and waddling to their umbrella, only to switch shirts exposing his DDD man boobs. (You can't make this shit up...I think I threw up in my mouth)
Monday
Apparently, I didn't get the memo that we were planning to leave on July 4th. Scott and Kelly departed at the crack of dawn, but I put in word that Amy and I wanted to stay an extra day, so Jay and his girlfriend figured they'd hang for the day as well. And then there were 4. I'm too burnt to risk going out onto the beach again, so I convince Amy to drive down to Ocean City so I can go to some of the places on the boardwalk that my family used to go to when I was a kid. It is during this trip that I realize how filthy a place Ocean City really is. Going to Ocean City after being in Dewey Beach all weekend was like going to a strip club after a family reunion. I swear if Syphillis were an airborn virus, the city would need to be quarantined. I am officially done with Ocean City...yes, I'm a snob. Bite me.
Luckily, we returned to the pleasant confines of Dewey Beach just in time for an outdoor dinner at the Rusty Rutter, while drinking exotic drinks and listening to reggae music. Now that's more like it...definitely one of the highlights of the weekend. After this, Jay and Jenny and Takoma took off, and Amy and I were left with a quiet empty beach house. And then there were 2. It's a sad feeling when the party is winding down, and the sun and exotic drinks put us both to sleep before 11 PM. Now, I know I'm getting old.
Tuesday, we drove home after visiting Rehobeth Beach to walk on the boardwalk. Amy was a mess by the time we got home as she had to drive (I don't drive stick) through rain and traffic back home to Rockville.
Eight years of waiting and worth every moment. It's times like these that I wish I had theme music. When's the next holiday weekend?
Friday: 11 AM
Departure from Rockville. I'm leaving work and my girlfriend (til Saturday night) behind to hitch a ride with my buddy Scott and his girlfriend (now fiance...congrats) Kelly to Dewey Beach. My buddy, Kupe, has a place down there which he and his girlfriend headed down to Thursday night with their dog, Takoma (the one with the widow's peak coloring). The trip ends up taking us a little over three hours, though it included two stops because we were sure we got lost. Stupid Yahoo maps. Our philosophy simply came down to "as long as the 'Beaches' signs kept counting down, we'd eventually make it to some beach."
Friday Night
After some dinner and card playing, the men headed out to The Cork & Bottle Rock 'n Roll bar for some late night drinks and to listen to two bands play. Decent scene, the bands were pretty good, though the self-proclaimed "Greatest Rock 'n Roll Bar in the World" sure served a crappy Capt. & Coke. The night ended with a frantic girlfriend calling me as our house developed leaks during what sounded like a Hurricane back home, and a trio of fatties hog tying and pulling us out to dance as the bar closed. Can't ask for much better than that, huh?
Saturday
Enjoyed some tasty fresh-made donuts from the Fractured Prune (stupid name, but good donuts) then headed out to the beach. It rained in the early part of the day, so beach time was limited and it wasn't that sunny, so I think I got a little overconfident with my skin's ability to battle the sun...more on that in a bit. The real battle of the weekend occurred once the sun went down and we entered the Cracked Claw or something like that. It was there that I learned that Crab Legs were available in the all-you-can eat variety. Fools...they obviously hadn't seen me at the Chinese Buffet. 50 crab legs later, they were forced to close the place...literally. (Damned late dinner, I could have gone for the century mark)
Sunday
More beach time...this time with sun. Apparently, having a redneck and shirt tan doesn't qualify you as being ready for SPF 8 oil at high noon. And who remembers to put suntan lotion on the tops of your feet? Not good times...but I've been worse off. The water was pretty cold and the beach was pretty rocky, but Kupe and I ventured into the water for a bit. Luckily, the shark sightings held off until Tuesday in Rehobeth so all limbs are still in tact...though Mr. Johnson seemed a bit cut off for a few moments as I left the water.
In the two days on the beach, there were plenty of sights including several Johnny Fratguys carrying two rafts full of beer and liquor into the ocean (quite the idea), a big-boobed chick who could throw a perfect football spiral 30 yards and contrasting ripped dude who threw like most other big-boobed chicks (pussy), and the highlight of the beach...Markie.
Markie (or MAAARRRRKKKKK!!!!!) was a small child who seemed to know how to piss off his mother by disappearing. It's not so much that he disappeared as she was arguably the worst parent to ever give birth to children...yes, plural, there were two others. Within moments of their arrival to our location on the beach, Markie had ran down to the water only to be yelled down with a chorus of gut-wrenching "MAAARRRRKKKK!!!!"'s and shrill quick, "Markie!"'s. This gathered the attention of everyone within 100 yards and that's when the real show began. The kids constantly disappeared and needed to take a piss, which seemed to be the worst possible thing in the world (worse than not squeezing it all out at a Nationals game). One girl ended up shitting her pants, I think, because her mom took her swimsuit bottom to the water to wash it out. Who does that? Of course, Markie disappeared during this exchange. And when it seemed that the mom had all she could handle, we got this outburst towards a 5 year old Markie:
"I don't know where your father is. Maybe when he gets here, you can ask him where he's been. Because you kids have been a real pain in my ass. You all keep having to go to the bathroom. This is unbelievable. You ask him where he's been when he gets here. Don't put me into that position. (WHAT!!??? This is arguably the worst thing I've ever heard)
And then he arrived. The only man that would have a woman like this: 6'0", 400 lbs, shaped like the Penguin, face like a Boston Terrier, pasty white skin, wearing a floppy hat and waddling to their umbrella, only to switch shirts exposing his DDD man boobs. (You can't make this shit up...I think I threw up in my mouth)
Monday
Apparently, I didn't get the memo that we were planning to leave on July 4th. Scott and Kelly departed at the crack of dawn, but I put in word that Amy and I wanted to stay an extra day, so Jay and his girlfriend figured they'd hang for the day as well. And then there were 4. I'm too burnt to risk going out onto the beach again, so I convince Amy to drive down to Ocean City so I can go to some of the places on the boardwalk that my family used to go to when I was a kid. It is during this trip that I realize how filthy a place Ocean City really is. Going to Ocean City after being in Dewey Beach all weekend was like going to a strip club after a family reunion. I swear if Syphillis were an airborn virus, the city would need to be quarantined. I am officially done with Ocean City...yes, I'm a snob. Bite me.
Luckily, we returned to the pleasant confines of Dewey Beach just in time for an outdoor dinner at the Rusty Rutter, while drinking exotic drinks and listening to reggae music. Now that's more like it...definitely one of the highlights of the weekend. After this, Jay and Jenny and Takoma took off, and Amy and I were left with a quiet empty beach house. And then there were 2. It's a sad feeling when the party is winding down, and the sun and exotic drinks put us both to sleep before 11 PM. Now, I know I'm getting old.
Tuesday, we drove home after visiting Rehobeth Beach to walk on the boardwalk. Amy was a mess by the time we got home as she had to drive (I don't drive stick) through rain and traffic back home to Rockville.
Eight years of waiting and worth every moment. It's times like these that I wish I had theme music. When's the next holiday weekend?
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Beach Recap
Just got back from a 5-day weekend getaway in Dewey Beach. I'm a little tired from the events of the weekend and from the drive back (4+ hours, with about 45 minutes of rain and a miserable backup on 495) so you will have to wait for some of the highlights until tomorrow. For now, all I can say is, "sucks to be home."
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