Worst Comic Standing

Alright, you may have already thought this yourself several days ago when Last Comic Standing originally aired, but I'm a Tivo guy and I don't watch shit when it's really on, I watch it when I'm good and ready. That being said, I just watched the latest episode of Last Comic Standing where they selected the last 5 (which turned into 7...sorry to ruin the surprise) remaining comics out of like 15, who are supposed to live in the house.

For those of you who have never watched this show, they select 10 up and coming comics to live in a house (a la Real World) and have them perform different comedy related stuff over a period of weeks, and each week one comic is eliminated until they have one comic left. I've watched the last two seasons of the show and though some of the comics kinda suck, the overall quality of the comics on the show is pretty decent...until now.

For some reason, the producers of this show selected Kathy Griffin and Tim Meadows as two of the judges of these comics. What?! How good of a judge of comedy can a D-List celebrity whose only jokes are telling stories about Celine Dion or a guy who had one decent character in like 10 years of starring on SNL be? Oh, I see. Terrible.

In this week's episode, each comic had like 3 minutes each to belch out some comedy, and some of these people were downright horrible. I think the guy from Talk Soup was up there...and made it into the house!!!! And then the really fat Mexican guy with the high voice, who's like the Pillsbury Doughboy version of Carlos Mencia, and who absolutely irritates the hell out of me...he's in the house!!!?? But it gets worse. Some old broad who only focuses on how shriveled her ovaries are and complains that she's about to die...she got in! Then a poor man's version of Ellen Degenerous whose only funny lines came after her set was over...she's in!! Can it get any worse??!!! Yes. They chose a stereotypical goomba wife (who's knocked up) and bitches about how bad her husband is in bed?? That kind of humor was never funny...not since Andrea Dice Clay on "In Living Color." But, there she was, walking her bloated ass onto the stage and into that house. But then, the most annoying and non-funny of all the comedians gets selected...a lady who's showing off her fat stomach while jumping around the stage, overly acting a story of her going to the gym. These comics absolutely sucked.

There were like 4 other funny comedians who deserved to be picked, including the guy who opened for Darrell Hammond at Caroline's in NYC when I was up there for my buddy's bachelor party (and he killed) and the seque guy, who's pure genius. Why are these guys going home?! Why were they not picked?! Not since the Ricky Paugh incident has the picking of comedy been this horrendous. And then it dawned on me.

This is not a show about finding the best comic. This is a show about comics living in a house together, pretending to be a show about finding the best comic. Just like the "Real World" seems to always have some chick with an eating disorder, a fag, a stupid redneck, and an overly aggressive black man...Last Comic Standing wanted a retard (yes, they have one), a dyke, an angry old bitch, a fat guy, and your stereotypical goomba.

Todd Glass wasn't funny because he was a retard.
Ant wasn't funny because he was gay. (well, he wasn't funny)
Kathleen Madigan wasn't funny because she was old and angry.
Ralphie May wasn't funny because he was fat.
And Tammy Pescatelli wasn't funny because she was Italian.

They were actually funny comedians...let's not try and re-create them NBC!!

So, for those of you who have missed the first few episodes and were hoping to catch up now, you're in for a big let down. If you wanna see good comedy, watch Comedy Central...'cause these guys suck. Where's Jay Mohr? He wouldn't stand for this.

Black Cloud

I swear, there is a black cloud lingering over my head recently. As you may recall, there was the debacle a few weeks back where my car needed new tires and brakes, and I lost over a grand in Vegas. Well, apparently Lady Luck has decided to let me flounder a bit longer.

On Friday, I get back from working out on the road to find a note from the lady who works next door to my office. Her note says that a White Toyota Corolla with handicapped (of course) tags hit my car, and then drove away. Now I have a huge dent/scratch combo on my front right bumper and some 'tard woman running around thinking she got away with it. Well, I'll show that special little bitch. I sent her info onto Geico so they can track her handicapped ass down to pay for this shit.

Then, on Monday, I wake up feeling like shit, so I decide to call in sick. I'm resting when the phone rings and my mom calls me from work to tell me that another 'tard (this time, not clinical) hit one of my vans on Connecticut Avenue, and who's driving that truck but my one driver who isn't covered by my policy and is only driving for a week while another guy is out of town for a family reunion. Needless to say, the lady driving the other car is, of course, stating the accident was his fault, even though the dent is obviously from her hitting him, and now my insurance company is giving me a hard time.

Can it get any worse?!! Oh, yes. My computer at work...the one with all of my proposals and documents...as well as my 7000 poolowner list...and all my work order templates...has crashed and will not restart. Hopefully a geek visit on Thursday morning can resolve this issue and right this ship.

At least it was my neighbor's house that got hit by lightning on Thursday night. I guess their black cloud was a little bigger.

I Alone

For the first time in my 28 year existence, I am living alone. This morning, at 7:30 AM, my newly ex-girlfriend Amy and her step father began their long drive to Colorado, leaving me (and Chloe) alone for the foreseeable future.

It's very strange coming home to a house that you have only known with the presence of someone else in it, and they're no longer there. Amy took not only herself, but with her left a warmth to the house as a whole. I'm not much for flowers and brick-a-brack, but that was Amy's forte. You'd be surprised what a difference a wicker dish with potpouri in it can do to the entire feeling of a bathroom. What was soft and peaceful, is now cold and sterile. How do women do that?

The other strange thing is that the place seems very empty. Amy did not have much furniture, but what she did have was a part of the living space that I had grown accustomed to...and now it is gone. A full closet in the bedroom is empty and the spare room has only a rug in it. Heck, my study, where I am right now, has only this computer table, a printer stand and Chloe's window chair to go along with the big empty wall where Amy's computer used to sit.

But nothing is more jarring than the idea that the person that was here to listen to my gripes, to share my free time, and complement my overly excitable nature with her calmative reasoning for most of my post-college life, is no longer around.

Am I sad? More than you'll ever know. But hopefully time will help me to make new memories in this house, in my life, and I will not regret the choices I have made. I have never been religious, though I consider myself spiritual, so I have been asking, "God, give me strength."

Don't worry about me, I knew this wouldn't be easy and I always bounce back. I usually shield my feelings behind jokes and humor, but today, I feel it's best to let it go. But soon, the humor will return to the blog.

A New Beginning

A change was needed. I wasn't happy. It just didn't seem like we were on the same page. I just didn't expect it to be so obvious that now was the time. Last night, I quit my football team. I had been playing with this group of guys for a while now, though I had just recently changed from my previous squad to the "Dream Team" of guys, assembled to win the championship where our old team had fallen short. Most of the best players from my last team were with me and we added a new quarterback as well as a safety, and a mishmosh of fill-in guys and things were looking great to start.

Everything was fine. I felt it was a little weird playing with a new quarterback after having played with my younger brother as quarterback for the last 5 years, but the team was winning so I didn't have any gripes.

As the weeks went on though, I started picking up on some of our differences, and I knew that things would probably not work out in the long run. Our quarterback was insistent on throwing the ball deep and would force the ball to another receiver in particular, regardless of how well he was covered. For the most part this didn't harm us in the early going, and I learned to deal with life this way. But as anyone can tell you, the little problems can fester and eventually become big problems and eventually lead to a breakup.

So, we've lost and tied our last two games of the season after shutting out our opponents the first 5 games. Our QB is forcing the ball and now it's resulting in dropped passes by that receiver or interceptions...and I'm getting frustrated running routes when there's little chance I'm gonna get the ball.

Am I not a good wide receiver? Am I not as fast as I used to be? I felt like I was good just a few weeks before when I was playing for the other team, but now I'm not sure. My confidence was dropping and the losses are even more frustrating because I'm not even happy just playing.

So I talk with my old team and they need some guys for a fill-in as they are short handed one game. I've got nothing better to do, so I play with them. Several catches, a touchdown, and an interception...I've still got it. I'm not bad all of a sudden, I'm just not in the right place.

But I've made a commitment to this team and to switch squads near the end of the season would be rude and foolish...plus I've paid to play and we still could win the chamionship. So last night, we played our first playoff game.

The game begins and our same problems are slapping me in the face. I'm being covered by a 5'6" kinda fat white kid and he's trying to bump me at the line. I'm wide open nearly every play, and yet the passes continue to go to the same now-double covered receiver. I bring my mismatch to the quarterback's attention, but nothing changes. He attempts to throw the ball to me once, which I catch for a 20-25 yard gain, only to have the play called back due to a hold on the offensive line. I can't stand it any more, we're down 0-11 and I know we should be winning, if only we were on the same page.

And then it happens. Our lineman, who's acting as the coach, lets some random shithead, who claims to play semi-pro ball and who they brought in to be a playoff ringer, take my spot and I have to sit the last drive of the season. By the way, wouldn't you think that a semi-pro player should get paid? Isn't that the whole difference between pro and rec? I guess he must be more semi and less pro, though he somehow gets the QB to throw him two straight passes to start the drive, which he proceeds to let go right through his hands.

And at this moment, I knew our relationship was over. It couldn't have been more of a slap in the face than to not only get benched in a rec game, but to have it happen for no reason (I haven't dropped any passes, and I scored a TD the game before, despite only getting that one pass thrown my way) and to be replaced by someone who has only come to one other game of ours and is a giant douche.

So I take off my jersey, take off my gloves, and wait out the last 1:30 on the clock before making my final exit. In case I didn't mention, we lost 0-11, ending our season. We were a good team, but not a great team, and apparently we couldn't win a championship together. And since I wasn't happy, it's best I move on. And if I also didn't mention, my 6 year relationship with my girlfriend ended one week prior to this debacle. It's time for a new beginning.

Thank you all for your support thusfar. I'm sure I'll find a team where everyone is on the same page soon enough.

Who's at fault?

So, I'm driving to a job today in my car and I'm sitting at a light waiting to make a left. It's all one way traffic for both streets in a relativley residential area (Bradley Blvd. & Wilson Lane for the locals). Traffic is constantly coming from the other direction so I'm just sitting there until there is a large gap between a car and a white van. At this moment, I decide I'm gonna make my turn and it also turns out that right at this point the light is turning yellow, so I need to get out of the intersection to begin with.

So, I start making the turn, at which time a pedestrian sees the light turning yelling and starts hauling ass to try and cross. He doesn't make it into the intersection, thankfully, because he sees me turning, but I was about a half a second from slamming on my brakes to prevent myself from hitting him if he had.

Meanwhile, the white van floored it to try and make the yellow light and barely missed hitting me even without me stopping for the pedestrian.

I successfully make the turn and no one is hurt or hit by anyone else, but then I start thinking that I was about one hair away from a serious accident...and I started wondering, "who would be at fault?"

I figured it would have to be the white van, since I was already in the intersection at the time and he was accelerating into a yellow light, rather than yielding (yeah, that's what it actually signals). But, maybe I would have been at fault since I was crossing the path of the white van. Or would it be the pedestrian for attempting to cross at an inappropriate time. Though there are no crossing signs at this intersection, it surely would have been red since the light was yellow.

Thankfully, I don't have to deal with knowing who truly is at fault, because that would have really put a damper into a perfectly good FRIDAY.

Would You Rather Be...

"An alcoholic or chubby?" (overweight, but not morbidly overweight)

I heard this one on the radio today and they were going to say what percentage of people chose one over the other, but I ended up getting out of the car before I heard the answer. I guessed that it would be like 70/30 in favor of the alcoholic (which is what I would choose), but what would you go with?

Both will kill you in the long term, but at least with the alcoholic, you can be physically active until your liver gives out. They both cost alot, what with the food and liquor bills, so that's sort of a wash. As far as the ladies go, Nicholas Cage was able to pull Elizabeth Shue in Leaving Las Vegas, so that gives hope for the alkie. Fatties have a bit more trouble, though Professor Clump did pull both Jada Pinkett and Janet Jackson in the Nutty Professors, so there's still a chance there.

Well, there's some pros and cons for each, but I'm still sticking with my gut (no pun intended) and going with the boozing over the feasting.

Happy Mother's Day

Alright, it's time I started posting regularly again, as I've really gotten away from this and I feel that the writing helps me to purge some of my day-to-day tension, much like masturbation. But, you really can't blame me for not writing. It's been a truly ridiculous bunch of weeks, including a one day road trip to Charlotte, a wedding weekend where I was one of the groomsmen (thank you for that honor, and Congratulations to Kelly and Scott), and most recently, the sudden firing of my girlfriend from her job the day before she took a week-long trip to Tucson, which is where she is now. And, of course there's the swimming pools.

So, with all of this drama and excitement in my life, what do I want to write about today: Mother's Day shopping...of course.

You see, with all of this drama and extensive hours of work, I haven't had any time to really think through what I was going to get for the person who brought me into this world, my mom. And that was my goal for today.

I work with my mom, so I see her on a daily basis and spend most of the day in our smelly warehouse with her, answering phones and mocking some of the retards that call in looking for pool work. On a completely unrelated note, a house in my neighborhood just went up for sale and the realtors name is Gay Ruth. Now back to the story at hand. As I was saying, though I spend all this time with my mother, unfortunately, I really have no idea what it is that she could possibly want for Mother's Day.

My dad pulled a swift one and beat us all to the chocolate covered strawberries gift, which he presented to her on Thursday. It was a deft move giving the gift on a weekday, in advance of actual Mother's Day, limiting the possibility my two brothers or I could steal this simple gift idea from him.

I think we've given her something from Bath & Body Works (the ultimate female cop out gift) at least twice a year between Mother's Day, her birthday and Christmas, so there goes a second option. With those two options off the board, it's off to the mall for some brainstorming.

I jumped into the car and headed over to Montgomery Mall, forgetting that it was Saturday and 12:30 PM until the moment I hit the parking lots. Sweet fucking Christ! After years of working at the mall through high school, I seemed to have forgotten how miserable a place it is on Saturday afternoons. As I ventured into the mall, alone, I was confronted with mobs of women and teenagers swarming in all directions...none of them speaking a word of English (God Bless America). I wandered up and down each of the wings of the mall, only to come to the realization that the only stores in the mall are shoe stores and clothing stores for sluts that have the bodies of 12 year old boys. If any one of you sons of bitches even makes a comment...

So, that was a wasted trip. And then it hit me. I had overlooked the most obvious of all cop out gifts. When in doubt, don't buy anything...let the person you're shopping for do that. Yep, the old gift certificate. Speaking of gift certificates, this brings me to a little theory that I have come up with, which has served me well when dealing with buying gifts for females, even mothers.

"Don't buy clothing for women." I guess it's less a theory and more the eleventh commandment, intended solely for men. You see, if you buy a woman clothing, you're going to get in trouble. Why? Real simple: If the clothes are too big, then you think that she's fat; If the clothes are too small, then she "is" too fat. Either way, you have an upset woman and nothing lingers longer than a woman upset over her weight. But J-Man, what if it fits perfectly? Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. Put down the half empty bottle of Jack Daniel's, close the other open window on your computer (which is porn), take a shower, shave, and go get yourself a girlfriend, because you obviously have never had one.

But I digress. Like I said, the gift certificate was perfect. I pulled this one before a couple years ago with Legal's Seafood and Carabba's, and I'm not sure exactly where my mom shops for clothing, so this time I thought I'd try something a little different. After some thought, I drove up to Regal Cinemas in Germantown, and grabbed my mom a nice gift certificate for a couple trips to the movies. Yep, the movies.

Because nothing says, "Thank you for giving me life, nurturing me through my youth, putting up with my teenage angst, paying for most of college, and dealing with my cursing tirades each and every workday" like buttered popcorn and 2-hours of Tom Hanks.

Like you did any better.

Getting Older

It's been a while since I've had any free time and therefore, it's been a while since I've had a chance to put up a blog entry...I'm sure you all have really missed it. The pool season is in full swing and with it comes the switch from 20-40 hr weeks to 70-80 hr weeks for the next two months or so. It's truly amazing how one week I'm off at 4 PM every day and the following Monday, I'm barely getting done at 8 PM. That's what it's like when you're in a seasonal business, so you just have to suck it up and adapt quickly because you only have 7 months to make a full year's worth of income.

Of course with the start of the season comes the start of new hiring and employee issues. You see, no salaried employee complains when they're taking home a check when they're working 20 hours a week...they only complain when they're taking home the same check and working three to four time longer. It seems like it's the same problems every year, just with different twists and reasons behind their desire to make more money. And yet, every year, it always seems new and concerning to me...I guess I haven't learned to be a cold, heartless employer yet. And perhaps a change is needed. A significant change in the way I handle my business...and my life.

For the past seven years since I've graduated from college, my life almost feels like I'm running on autopilot. Sure, I make a big decision here and there, such as buying and selling my houses, and eventually splitting ways with my old work associates two years ago, but for the most part, it feels like I'm just going through the motions and life is happening around me. Maybe that's how it is for everyone? At some point, you chose your profession, you chose your partner, you chose your lifestyle, and now you just react with the situation and complete each day, only to repeat the process the following day, and week, and month, and year.

And now I'm 28 years old, living in a house in Rockville with my girlfriend, dog and cat, working feverishly in the Summer and relaxing in the Winter, grabbing a beer or five with my friends on the weekend, playing football every Friday and Sunday, eating sushi once a week at the Sushi buffet, reading sports columns in anticipation of the baseball and football seasons, and watching my hair get thinner and my muscles ache more after each exersion.

Is this what getting older is all about? Adding more and more routines and set pieces to your life until you have every day completely consumed with set plans or commitments, only to complete them and move on to the next day of the same? Is this what hippies are fighting (are they still fighting?) against? Is this what it means to be a part of "corporate America"? Is this when I realize that my life is not like a video game and I can't just re-load from my last save point and try a different path? Will Katherine McPhee win American Idol and become Kelly Clarkson, Part Duex? Could I have thought of a more depressing first entry after two weeks of not writing?

Hey, you're getting older too.

Following the crowd

I had procrastinated long enough. I have been shrugging off others comments and suggestions for months. I found every reason to not move forward with it and debated my friends over and over again. The cost was too high. I haven't got the time. But then, I finally crumbled and went along with the rest of the crowd.

Yes, I bought "The DaVinci Code" by Dan Brown now that it is available in paperback, and have begun reading what others have been raving about and encouraging me to read for months. And you know what, this book is pretty damned good.

What's that?!

Well, what did you think I was talking about??

Show me the money

Last night, my mom gives me a call because she was looking through the Gazette and saw my name along with my old address in Germantown on an advertisement for unclaimed property. At first, I'm thinking this is some sort of scam, but the list has like 100,000 names on it, so this would be a very elaborate scam.

So, this morning, I call the number that was listed with all the info. and ask the lady I speak with what it is that I have unclaimed. After verifying my identity, she informs me that it is likely a refund on an overpayment of my property taxes back when I lived in Germantown...and that the amount is OVER $1000!!!!!

HELL YEAH!!!

So, I went online and printed out the forms that I have to send to the government to claim this money. And within a few short weeks (or months...this is the government we're talking about) I'll be getting a fatty check for this money I never knew I was owed. What a solid find!

If you wanna see if you're owed money by the state of Maryland, you can go search for yourself at www.marylandtaxes.com under the unclaimed property section.

Why is everyone so drunk?

I was back in DC this weekend and it seemed only fitting that I make a trip out to the bars since the area had been without the J-Man for two straight weekends. I mean, who's going to sit in the corner of Millie & Al's, ogle the underage chicks, and get loaded on cheap beer and jello shots?!

So, there I am, sitting in the corner of Millie & Al's with Catheter Man and Ike, ogling the bachelorette parties (it was one of those nights), and getting loaded on cheap beer and jello shots, when the night got real ugly, real fast.

We sent Ike to get a round of beers and after a few minutes, I turned around to see what was taking Ike so long. He turns back at me, only to reveal that he was talking with an ugly bachelorette, and he explains that he is taking so long because this girl finds it spectacular that she and Ike are getting married on the same day...and she's also peddling her taped-on candies.

Bachelorette parties are weird. They always have candy nipples and penises and all sorts of edible shit taped to them. Then they grab random guys and have them eat one or even worse, pay to eat one off of them. Is this supposed to be funny? On my bachelor party, I'm gonna tape a bunch of hot dogs to my pants and walk around with my dick out too. Let's see how many chicks wanna deal with that kind of Russian roulette.

Now, back to the freak show. Ike returns to the table and after a few more rounds I decide to take a trip to the bathroom. This is usually a disaster at Millie & Al's as the line is normally down the stairwell (which it was later in the night) and there's only two pissers. At this moment, there are no guys in line, but there is a guy in front of me walking up the stairs. And then he promptly fell down the stairs. Seriously, he fell face first right near the top and slid like 6 stairs down until he was right in front of me. Then, he stood up, made no joke or cover up and continued right up the stairs again and into the bathroom. I wonder if he even realized something was wrong?

Back at the table, it's gotten really crowded and a second bachelorette party has stumbled in. It's the most bizarre occurrence when two bachelorettes see each other. Normally, women seem to hate each other at the bar, but throw a crown and a white vale on them, and all of a sudden they're like old high school buddies who haven't seen each other in 10 years. These two almost went at it right there...and perhaps our encouragement (along with the guy sitting next to us) might have had something to do with that. "Last chance to be a lesbian, and this is the place to do it" seemed like a decent exclamation at the time. It drew no harsh looks.

But these two weren't the worst of the PDA. About 15 minutes later, a couple starts going at it right behind me. This guy is groping her ass, her tits, and ramming his tongue down her throat. I think if Catheter Man hadn't pulled out the camera and taken an awkward shot of them to draw an end to this display, I definitely would have syphillis right now.

So, we wrap it up at Millie's, and move on to a quick empanada (you can read Catheter Man's take on this debacle), and then Ike and I jump in a cab up towards Van Ness, where I hop on the metro toward home.

Is the night of oddity over?...not even close. The puking hasn't even begun. But this time it's not me.

I'm sitting on the metro and these two chicks are sitting at the end facing towards me. One of them is looking in two different directions, and I don't think she has a lazy eye, so bad times are on the way. Her friend miraculously produces a plastic grocery bag and let the games begin. At this point, we're only at Tenley Town, and this chick continues to fill the bag, all the way til Bethesda, at which time she changes seats with her friend, perhaps because I'm giving her the most horrified look in the world. What did she eat? That's about the grossest thing I've ever seen. And that's because I didn't see this.

What I have failed to mention in this whole story is that my buddy Zack started the evening with us at 8 PM by driving over to my place and taking the metro down to Kupe's with me. After 3 hours of pre-gaming, he headed off to meet some others and when I tried to call him at 1:30 AM when I finally left Millie's, he didn't answer. Well, sure enough, as I exit the metro, my cell. rings and it's Zack. He's just been "escorted" out of a relatively nice bar, after having had several shots. And if you've ever drank with Zack, several shots is not a good thing...and neither is Zack's final recollection of his evening:

"So, I start feeling real sick and I don't know where the bathroom is, so I just puke into a glass and put it on the bar. And the bartender and all are like, you need to leave. And I'm like, 'I justed puked in a glass. I definitely need to leave.'"

The best part of the story is that in all three times that he told it to me during that conversation, as well as the one more time he told it to me after I went back to get him from the metro, he never really seemed to know for sure whether or not this event really happened.

I can hardly believe any of this really happened.

Me and NYC

Sorry to take so long on posting something new, but two weeks of travelling and the whole time change bullshit have taken their toll on the J-Man and have left me completely lazy. A return to my routine for a week should get me back into form and with the start of the pool season, I'm sure the jackass stories will soon flow like urine down a special kid's leg.

So, as I mentioned, I took a trip to NYC for the weekend to celebrate my buddy Scott's bachelorhood. For those of you hoping for stories of strippers, hookers, excessive testosterone displays and the like, you should stop reading now and go directly to scatlovers.com you filthy degenerates.

Now, here's the rundown:

We started things off right, heading right to the bar at National airport for a quick round of beers before our 45 minute flight. Good times are in the air, as a younger MILF with huge boobs starts talking to Dave and informs him that she is heading to "Hot-lanta." No, I'm not making that up. No, seriously, that's what she said. I swear.

So, after we finish that round, it's off to the plane and on to the realization that the Delta Shuttle is the greatest airline in the world. We've just taken off when the steward (yeah, he was gay) offers me a snack package. As a seasoned flyer of two weekends, I immediately shoot back with, "Is it free?" (classy, I know) Well, guess what...it was free. Two chicken fingers on a bed of lettuce with white carrot pieces, honey mustard dressing, a Kit Kat and a mint...for free. And it's only a 40 minute flight? And then Catheter Man got a beer...and it was free!!! So, he doubled up...no questions asked!!! What the hell kinda flight is this?!!! I just went to Vegas where I was in the air for like 5 hours and I had to illegally mix my own drinks when the flight attendants weren't looking, and these guys are handing out free beer. God bless whoever came up with this. I am never going anywhere by plane other than Boston or New York, so I can take the Delta Shuttle. In these times of struggling airlines, it's nice to see that someone is not afraid to serve cold chicken tenders and give away 8 oz. of Bud Light's finest. Marvelous. Simply marvelous.

And we're in NYC.

We check into the Hilton Millenium, right by the site of 9/11, and we immediately notice that the double beds are not much more than a glorified twin bed. It's an awkward moment as Catheter Man and I look at each other and then 230 lb. Smitty, and rapidly decide that we're best served sleeping with each other and leaving Zack, who hasn't arrived yet, with the privelage of spooning with Dave. It is only at 7 AM the next morning when Catheter Man rolls over and tries to cuddle me that I realize that I may have made a mistake. "I thought you were Takoma (his dog)." Is that any better???

But back to Friday night. We head out to an Irish bar that is actually owned by Scott's fiance's dad. He's not there, but we settle in anyways and order a round of beers and some food, since the chicken finger salad alone can not fill me for the whole night. Before the food can come, I decide it's time for Scott's first round of shots, and I inform our 100% pure-bred Irish waitress that we need a round of shots. I give her the liberty of choosing the shot...which leads me to my first bit of advice to anyone who cares to listen. If you are at an Irish bar and want to get a round of shots, don't ask an Irish person to choose it for you. "All I shoot is Jamieson and so that's what you'll be havin' since I'll be havin' one wit' ya." Nice start to an evening, that's for sure. I took control of the shots from that point on and it seemed only fitting that Scott drink Red Headed Sluts from that point on since his future bride is a red head. (no insult intended)

We relocate the party to a place called Fiddle Sticks a few hours and a $200 bar tab later. (Apparently on the house doesn't apply to the bachelor until the ring is on the finger). Oh well.

Fiddle Sticks is packed and it's "Golf Pros and Tennis Hos" night, which makes for some nice scenary. We're all pretty trashed, I end up making fun of some joker who's trying to impress some ladies by playing with his balls...tennis balls, that is, and Catheter Man's buddy Colediggy, after completely appaulling all of us with his knowledge of scatlovers.com and ratemypoo.com gets his come upance as he is accosted by some gay dudes. A good time is had by all and we close the place down at 4 AM.

On Saturday, we start things off real slow but eventually end up meeting up with everyone at Chelsea Piers for a couple rounds of bowling before heading off to Ruth's Chris for steak dinner. I have to say this was the greatest steak dinner I have ever had in my entire life, and what made it even sweeter is that Scott's dad met us for dinner and picked up the whole tab. Yeah, the whole tab. For Ruth's Chris. In NYC. With like 12 of us there. And we weren't drinking water either. Hell with toasting the bachelor, here's to his dad.

We wrap up there and head to a comedy club where Darrell Hammond is the headliner. He's remotely funny, though if you've watched Saturday Night Live, you've seen most of his best bits. The opening act was solid however, and the continuous drinking always makes a comedy club more enjoyable. It's about midnight when the show ends and we're all pretty full and drunk, but no one is willing to admit they want to call it a night.

We fight on and head to another Irish bar where a round of Jager bombs (I think we had some?) brings us back to our senses. The place is kinda dead so we only stay for a bit, then move on to our final destination. Not sure where we went, but the place had a juke box and the night closed out with my request, in honor of Scotty, "Sweet Caroline." It is truly an homage to Scotty's single life, because the last time I heard it when he was around, he had just pulled his undershirt over his head at Millie & Al's and a random girl was rubbing his nipples. Ugh. I think I just threw up in my mouth. And I think I did at the bar too, so we called it a night, and a weekend.

A solid performance and a definite improvment from my last trip to New York, when I was punched in the chest and robbed by a large black man who was claiming to sell my buddy a fake ID, and when I was charged $60 at Runway 69 for buying a stripper a rum and coke and then telling her to get the hell away from me. Actually, I guess anything would have been an improvment from that, and I did get a banana at the airport as we were departing.

It'll have to do since we never saw the Unhappy Gorilla.

Off to NYC

Just as my liver had finally returned to proper size, it is time for me to jump on a plane for another weekend of excessive drinking and stupidity. This weekend is my buddy Scott's bachelor party and since his brother and bestman, Kirk, lives in NYC, and I hear it's an OK place to go, we've decided to take the party north.

The plan as of now is pretty low key, so that may bode well for the J-Man's stomach. I'll provide a recap of some of the highlights...with the exception of Scott receiving an "Unhappy Gorilla" from a stripper...when I get back on Monday. Enjoy your weekends.

And, yes, I just made up the term "Unhappy Gorilla" as I was writing, but I have some ideas of what it could be, and it's filthy.

Here's a breakdown

of the disaster that was Vegas '06 - NCAA Sweet Sixteen. I may have missed or blacked out some of the events, but perhaps some things are better left forgotten. Enjoy:

DAY 1
-We arrived at the airport at 9:30 PM, and the four of us are already pretty shitfaced after providing our own beverages during the flight (not sure if that's legal?). I checked my bag, which drew rave reviews from the other guys as we had to wait for it, but I wasn't about to carry that shit around with me all day.
-After a quick cab ride, we're at the Mandalay Bay and the room situation is squared away. It's off to the tables. I should have protested playing at these tables since they have the immediate autoshuffler (not even a full shoe before it shuffles), which I never seem to do well on, but unfortunately I was too drunk to care. And that's where the problems began.
-After floating at one table with my initial $200 for a while, I switched tables to play with some of the other guys. The bad news is that I colored out and with only two black chips ($100 each), I felt it was in my best interests to bet one of them on my first hand at the new table. Unfortunately, I won. Yes, I said "Unfortunately, I won". You see if I had lost, perhaps my drunken mind would have seen the error of this bet and stopped me early. Sadly, this was not the case and soon I was down $600. Did I mention that a pimp came down and sat next to me at the table and referred to the black chips as the "Soul Brother Chips?"
-I left the table in disgust and went over to the craps area with Bristow, who gave me a quick lesson. After watching for a while, I joined in. With the help of the dealers (who were pretty nice, so I was tipping well), I won back about $220 of the blackjack money I had lost...and called it a night at 4:30 AM (nearly 24 hours after I had woken up that day)

DAY 2
-For some reason, waking up at 8 AM seemed OK, and after a shower and a trip to McDonald's, it was time to wander the strip. We walked to New York, New York and had a round of beers at the ESPNZone and then walked a little further down to the Monte Carlo to look for nice cheap blackjack tables. We found a $5 table but it only slowed the losing, as we were all down soon enough. A second day of transitioning to craps saved the afternoon and it was back to the Mandalay Bay and House of Blues for some grub. Everything is still going pretty smoothly, nothing too crazy to speak of.
-And then something really weird happens. I really won't go into details because it may cause one of my readers to curl up in a ball and cry, so I'll just leave it at this. TWO DRAGONS!
-After wandering out of this debacle, things only headed down hill, and here's where I'll just throw some quick notes at you.

• We went to Aladdin to play craps and soon I was being heckled by complete strangers thanks to the support of my friends, who didn't like my ability to throw winning dice.
• We lucked out into having a friend who could get us into the Foundation Bar on the roof of the Mandalay Bay, so we headed up there for some drinks...and some Jager Bombs...and some more drinks...and another round of Jager Bombs...and then I excused myself and headed to the bathroom. Luckily, a false alarm but when I returned, my nearly full drink had disappeared. I asked the bartender what happened to it and she looked down the bar and saw a full drink a ways down. Had I been more sober, I would have realized that I had never stood at that part of the bar, and perhaps her shrugging as she handed it to me should have been my tip that bad times were to come. After a quick swig, I "informed" her that it was not my drink...but she was nice enough to pour me another one. Maybe she should have cut me off instead.
• Fast forward to another blackjack table (why did I go in my state) where I changed in $200 more dollars and when I went to grab my stack of chips had them spill in front of me. What I didn't realize is that the stack was so tall that I didn't even grab all the chips and I accidently left $75 of it (3 quarter chips) sitting on the table, which promptly got dealt a losing hand. Maybe I should go to bed? NOPE
• I find my buddies and we wander (truly the best word for this) around the Mandalay Bay wherein Eddo has two of the most ridiculous encounters of the trip.
• A huge breasted latina woman walks by, to which Eddo states loud enough for all to hear, "Yeah, those aren't real" Of course, she hears this and comes right up to him, apparently pissed. A quick save by Pogue and Eddo is smoothing things out. Smoothing them out so well that the next thing I notice is that she is asking Eddo to feel her fake breasts and yelling at him for not squeezing them like a man. I swear it looked like he was testing out some new furniture, the way he turned to me and Pogue and nodded, "why yes, these do feel nice."
• After this exchange, Eddo is beaming and when three ladies walk by, he asks them where they're heading off to. To which he got this reply, "I don't know, but you should go to bed." You know what, I think she's right...and I'm off to bed.

DAY 3
-I wake up in disgust, realizing that I am now down $1100 and still thinking back to the Two Dragons. There's only one way to make myself feel better...In and Out Burger.
-OK, I was wrong about that. Three days of drinking and eating garbage have caught up to me and the patrons of the Excalibur Casino bathroom paid the price after we walked back.
-Back to the tables...and we start with blackjack, where we get the casino to switch an empty table from $25 to $10, since we were going to fill the table. It is now 11:30 AM.
-The table is going pretty well for everyone but Eddo, who is down over $2000 on the trip and can't seem to catch a break. He is FAR from done though. The same can not be said for Mike, who has been sucking back Bud Lights like it is his job and has regressed to the brain capacity of a small infant. Here's Mike every five minutes: He has a twelve and takes a hit. He pulls a 3, so he takes a second hit. This time he pulls a 9, so the dealer jokingly covers the 3 to make it look like he has 21. Mike gets excited...then sadly disappointed when she shows him the 3 again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twenty times, I need to go to bed. This is a constant joke for the table as I turn to Mike and "disappear" by covering my face with my hands. It is now only 3 PM.
-I win a bit at this table, then move on to play some craps...where I lose it right back. We've spent way too long here and decide we should head back to the Mandalay Bay, after we eat a cheap dinner of Pizza Hut and Manchu Wok. It is now about 5:30 PM.
-Mike has gone to bed. Eddo is still playing blackjack at the same table. And Langley, Bristow, Pogue and I have regressed to the point that we are sitting in the corner of the Mandalay Bay bar, discussing who our black celebrity equivalent is. Here's what we came up with, with much debate: Me - Orlando Jones or Martin Lawrence; Langley - Biz Markie (he hates me for this one); Pogue - Bernie Mac; Bristow - Wesley Snipes (my suggestion) or Ving Rames or the guy who loses his starting running back position and Halle Berry to Omar Epps in "The Program."

This is what happens to you when you spend three days in Vegas. And Eddo is still sitting in the Excalibur playing blackjack.

Never bet on black again

If there is one highlight that I can take from my trip to Vegas, it is that I finally learned how to play craps, a game that had always intimidated me in the past. But after having played for nearly 10 hours over the course of the weekend (maybe more, who can remember) I just came to the realization that I underappreciated a relatively solid bet at the table.

That bet is the "Field" bet. It is a one time bet wherein you throw any amount of money on it and if the following numbers roll, you win: 2, 3, 4, 9, 10, 11, 12. It pays double for the 2 and triple for the 12, with the others being even money payouts. At first, you would think this is a sucker's bet because the easiest numbers to throw are the 6, 7, 8, of which I placed many Come bets on or simple place bets on. But then I thought about it, here's the breakdown, I think:

To throw a 2, 3, 11 or 12, there's only one way each...so that makes four chances.
To throw a 4, 9 or 10, there are two ways to throw each (i.e. 1+3 and 2+2 for four)...so that adds six more chances.
So there are 10 ways to win this bet.

On the opposite side:
To throw a 6, 7, or 8, there are three ways to throw each (i.e. 1+5, 2+4, 3+3 for six)...so that makes nine chances to win.
There are two ways to throw a 5...so that adds two more chances.
So there are 11 ways to lose this bet.

So, in total, you have a 10 out of 21 chance of winning, or 47.6%, plus there's a 9.5% chance (2 out of 21) that you'll win more than even money.

Compare this with someone betting on black in a roulette game. There you've got 18 black numbers, where you can win, and 18 red numbers where you'll lose. Plus you've got either a '0' or a '00' in there too. If a table has both, that means you have an 18 out of 38 chance of winning or 47.4% chance...and a 0% chance of winning more than even money.

So, now I know, and I pass this piece of info on to you.

Never bet on black again.

Oh, and here's another piece of advice...beer is not your friend at the tables, even if it is free.

Hurting...

Got back from Vegas last night at 9:30 after losing $1400 playing blackjack and craps, only getting 4 hours of sleep each night, and drinking nearly every moment I wasn't asleep. Of course, when I finally got back into town, I couldn't find the shuttle bus to drive me to where my car was parked at Dulles airport...so I had to walk to the garage.

Needless to say, I'm pretty beat up right now as I'm wrapping up here at work with my only plan being to go home and sleep. I'll give you a more in depth analysis of the weekend tomorrow.

Twas the Night Before Vegas

And I just can not wait,
For the Round of 16 and then Elite 8.

My bags were packed, three nights I would stay,
Next stop for those bags is the Mandalay Bay.

It's almost 11 and soon I'll be in bed,
With visions of blackjacks and covering the spread.

Let's not forget roulette and possibly craps,
And of course there's the Captain and whatever's on tap.

As I doze off to sleep, I can just hear the ringing,
It sure ain't Santa, it's old people winning.

They love the slots, though I'll steer clear,
But who am I to judge, it's all good here.

I'll sit for six hours and try to get comped,
But that bastard at the Palms will stiff me again and I'll have to pay for a steak and eggs with cash...which really sucks.

That last part didn't rhyme, but it really got me pissed,
Just think of all the fun that most of you missed.

Then it's on to the pool, my favorite place to be,
Because someone else is cleaning it, yep, not me.

I'll take in the rays as well as the view,
Don't try and judge me, you know you will too.

So wish me Bon Voyage as I head on my trip,
New Christmas for me is right on The Strip.

Where it's beer and sun and a gambler's delight,
So without further ado, I bid you good night.

Professionally Done?

As most of you know, I run a swimming pool company. I've been doing this since I took over in 2000 and have handled a range of duties within my small company including preparing advertising; hiring and firing employees; training employees; scheduling work; meeting with new clients; scoping out new jobs; acting as a construction general contractor; preparing formal work contracts; preparing our finances for our accountant, and, of course, actually performing every aspect of pool service and equipment repair.

With such a wide range of tasks to handle in my typical day, I think I've sort of taken for granted the fact that I am a "professional" within my particular industry. It's odd but I still see myself as J-Man, the guy who has a girlfriend, dog and cat at home, went to a liberal arts school, and hangs out with his buddies playing sports and drinking beers every week. And when I'm out on a job doing the work, it's just the J-Man trying to get the task done to the best of my abilities. But, then it dawns on me...I am also an expert in my field and when someone calls me out to their pool, they are doing so because they don't know how to do something that I do.

I know this all sounds very simple and basic, and maybe I'm not quite explaining it well enough, but when I'm done with a job and I look at the work I've done, I'm usually proud of what I've done, but I always ask myself in the back of my head, "What would a professional have done here?"

Now, maybe I'm alone in this line of thinking, but it lead me to ask myself recently, "What is a professional job?" And "Does anyone ever feel like they've accomplished it, or are we always thinking that we're just a typical guy (or girl) doing it to the best of our abilities and wondering what this fictitious 'professional' would have done differently?"

Perhaps it's this 'professional' that keeps us driven in our own work and our own lives to continue to do better, even though we may only catch him once and a while in that level of perfection in what we are capable of doing.

And last week, I think I finally caught him.

Always bet on black...and red

Yes, it is that time of year again. Time for the NCAA Tournament and time for me to head to Las Vegas. It's no coincidence that the two have fallen into the same general timeframe twice in the last three years. There's just something about the NCAA Tournament that makes me want to wager money on teams I have never heard of before. It's sort of like 16 Kentucky Derbys all in one day, then again the next day. So why wouldn't you want to be in a place where gambling is the main attraction...feed the sickness.

Sadly, this time around I'm gonna have to wait til the Sweet 16 to do my Vegas gambling, as I won't be leaving until this Thursday, and I'll have a build up post sometime this week I'm sure.

Since I wasn't in Vegas the last two days, I had to do my gambling online. Last year, this didn't turn out too well for me and as you've been reading, my luck hasn't been that great lately, but this year I had some insider knowledge. I would have shared it with you earlier, but you might have changed the lines. So, sorry, you're loss. Here's the insider tip...bet on black..and red. Yep, the black and red of the Fighting Wildcats of my alma mater, Davidson College.

The 'Cats were matched up against Ohio State in a first round game, and the crafty veterans of Davidson were certainly not going to roll over like Belmont or some shit like that. Davidson went undefeated in the Southern Conference last year, only to lose in the tournament and go to the NIT. Oh yeah, and there they won their first two games only to fall to Maryland after leading by as much as 16. Now, they were a year older, only lost one player, and came off a schedule that included games against UNC, Duke, Syracuse, Charlotte, St. Joe's, Missouri, UMass, and of course, a Southern Conference Tournament Championship.

So what do the generous people of Sportsbook.com put them at...10.5 point underdogs. Sign me up.

The 'Cats fought hard, and even had a 4 point lead at the half. Could this turn out as only the 5th ever #15 over #2? Unfortunately, the perimeter game for OSU picked it up in the second half, allowing their big man to become a presence, while Davidson, and their star shooting guard, Brendan Winters, struggled to make a basket. The result was a 70-62 loss and an elimination for the Wildcats and an end for four of their best players collegiate careers.

In watching this game, I realized why college basketball is so popular. Why fans of college sports are the most fanatic of them all...me included. It's because we were a part of this. I went to this school. I watched these guys play (well, not these particular guys) and cheered their shots and saw them walking around campus and hanging out at our parties. And it is because of that, that I recognize how amazing it is for a school of 1700 people (of which, I used to be one), where we could walk into the game at any point and sit right behind the bench, and where most of the players will be bankers or lawyers after graduation to be matching up against a school that fills 50,000 seat stadiums for their football program and has sent Michael Redd and Jim Jackson on to the NBA.

And I was and am a part of that. And always will be. You just don't get that with a pro team.

And you don't get $100 for betting on Davidson covering the spread. Hell yeah!

Fantasy Baseball 2006

Well, I have finally completed all of my fantasy baseball drafts for the year, which really means the battle has just begun. I'm coming off my best year of fantasy baseball finishing 1st, 4th, 4th, and 8th in my four leagues last year. This year, I've dropped it down to three leagues, which may allow me to keep all the numbers in the money...but who knows. As you all may or may not recall, I made some player predictions last year, which I must say turned out to be not so bad.

Therefore, in an attempt to help those of you with fantasy drafts still looming, here are my boom and bust picks for 2006:

Players to Avoid:
5. Josh Beckett - He's gonna have a lot of hype behind him now that he's playing with the big boys in the AL East. That hype is your worst nightmare. Most pitchers have a terrible time switching from the NL to the AL and going from the pitcher-friendly NL East to the pitcher-deadly AL East is reason enough to leave Beckett to some Beantown homer.

4. Barry Bonds - He was on my list last year and didn't fail to prove me right. This year shouldn't be as bad of an issue, but I wouldn't be surprised to see him quit playing in the middle of the season if the Giants fall out of contention...sighting a lack of desire. Steer clear.

3. Felix Hernandez - The kid is still a good pickup in keeper leagues, but I would avoid him in the one and done leagues. He's not gonna get the amount of innings you want for the pick you're gonna have to use to get him, and ALL young pitchers hit bumps early on...I don't care how much of a phenom he is. Check back on him in 2007-2008.

2. Gary Sheffield - I've just got a bad feeling about Sheff this year. I don't think he was too pleased with the antics that occurred in the off-season and when he's in a bad mood, you can expect the "injuries" to pop up and the stats to drop down. If you love the Yankees, there are plenty of others to choose from.

1. Chase Utley - Don't believe the hype. In some circles this guy is considered a first round pick. Yes, he's the magical age of 27, but stud players don't hit lefties as bad as this guy does. It's gonna bring his stats down and you'll be sitting with a 1st or 2nd round pick who's batting .260-80-15-60-8. Not terrible for a second basemen, but terrible for a second player. You'd be better off taking Placido Polanco six rounds later.


And now, the picks to click:
5. Shawn Chacon - You may be able to grab this guy with one of your last picks and he could turn out to be the best pitcher on the Yankees this season. It's hard to gauge how good a pitcher can be when he plays his entire career in Colorado, but he's only 28 and he had a strong showing with the Yankees at the end of last season. He's certainly gonna get run support, and you could do a lot worse. I'd put him at a very generous 15 Wins, 150K, 3.80 ERA, 1.30 WHIP.

4. Travis Bowyer - Here's my cinderella pick for the year. He's a closer-to-be sitting down in Florida behind (or next to) Joe Borowski. He definitely has the stuff to close and will likely be the next along the lines of Lidge-F.Rodriguez-Ryan as a setup man with high Ks converted to full-time closer. Take a flier on him, or his AL counterpart Rafael Soriano (yes, I said it), and enjoy the Ks until the saves start flowing in. (I took them both in my keeper league). I'd expect 2 Wins, 17 SV, 75K, 2.50 ERA, 1.20 WHIP.

3. Jimmy Rollins - He was one of my second half picks to click and he did not let me down. This guy is the complete package and he's only getting better. Think about all the hype Carl Crawford gets, then put him at a more scarce position. He'll be a first round pick next year, so grab him in the 2nd or 3rd this year while you still can. I'm predicting a silly line of .300-120-18-70-45.

2. Ryan Howard - Yes, another Philly. This guy is the real deal and a 40-HR season is easily within his grasp. If you've already had an auction, you probably got in as low as possible, because his stock is rising every day he adds to his Spring Training homerun tally. Let's say he'll go around .275-85-38-95-0 this year.

1. Adrian Beltre - Most people in your league have probably had Beltre at some point in the past, and are going to be very bitter about this guy after all the bad seasons he's produced, then the one monster, followed by last year's less than stellar outing. But he's turning 27 this year...yes, the magical age. So, you've got a guy who's been in the league a while and disappointed on most occassions but is about to turn 27. I've heard of a guy like this...last year's number one pick, Andruw Jones. Lightning will strike again. Grab this guy and expect numbers close to my Howard projections.

And those are my fantasy baseball picks for this year. I'll have to check back in July and see how I'm doing at the halfway point.

Brain Farts 5

I've got a couple quick stories to share and since no of them is especially in depth, I present to you my 5th installment of Brain Farts...not quite the whole shit, but still pretty amusing.

• The bad luck continued as some guys came by today to clean my gutters, since they saw they were really clogged while they were working next door. After getting up there to clean them out, they noticed that some of the wood that the gutters are attached to had rotted and the nails were popping out. Luckily, they would just need to drive new nails into the unrotted sections of wood. But wait, the caulking was also bad and needed to be redone. Sweet...here's $175. We're now up to $1919 for the bad luck streak. (The other four is from another poker loss yesterday afternoon)

• Yesterday, while walking home from Adam's Morgan after a night of drinking, I came up with a brilliant idea for my buddy Scott's bachelor party in NYC, which is in three weeks. Mind you, I was drunk when I thought of this, so bear with me. He will partake in a "scavenger hunt" that will include things such as carrying open condoms, naked pictures from a porn magazine, and other dumb stuff. This will not actually be scavenged for, this is merely to give some credibility to the real goal...seeing boobs and butts. Now that he has "completed" these portions of the scavenger hunt, all that remains is....having his picture taken next to a pair of random boobs and buttcheeks. Having seen a bachelorette party do the opposite thing, I feel we might have a chance. And the key is, we're not going to set a clear number of boobs and/or buttcheeks that must be photographed, though I'm thinking the total may be somewhere around the 0 range, though we may get a few pictures of my buddy getting slapped, which might be just as good. Uh, no. No, it isn't.

• When I arrived home last night, my girlfriend was still out following the bridal shower for her co-worker, Crystal. So I decided to fry myself up some chicken fingers since I wouldn't be disturbing anybody (hot oil + drunken person = good times). Thankfully, I did not burn the place down...only the roof of my mouth. However, when Amy and her gay co-worker arrived back at our place, I had this classic exchange.

Me: So what did you do tonight babe? (slurring, more than likely)

Amy: We finished dinner and then headed to Crystal's place since some of the people were being lame and didn't want to go out.

Me: Really, why not?

Amy: They were just complaining that they were tired and wanted to just go home.

Me: That shit is gay!

-Awkward silence-

Me: Woops. Uh, sorry Sean.

Bad Luck Continues

Well, the bad luck streak has apparently stretched past the 24-hour period and I'm hoping that an end is near, or I'm gonna lose it.

I get to work this morning to find that my cell. phone has been shut off because somehow Sprint...together with Nextel...has botched our billing address somehow and we haven't gotten, and therefore haven't paid for the bill in two months. I love how they just shut off your service and force you to call them, rather than simply call you to request payment on an overdue invoice. Luckily, I'm back up now.

But merely an hour after this fiasco, my brother is outside trying to attach some automatic pool cover track to the top of one of our trucks and asks for my help. I go out to help him and after we hoist the track onto the roof rack, he decides to scale the back of the truck to get on top. Of course he does this by pointing his foot right onto the back window and pushing off to pull himself up...and in pops the window. FUCK!!

And I assume I failed to mention before that one of my other employees backed this same truck into the bottom of our warehouse garage door, tearing off the bottom of the wood, shattering a pane of glass in the door, causing us to call a repair company in to fix it. Of course, they came and fucked the door up even more, after replacing all the bearings, which didn't need to be fixed in the first place. So now I have a door with a broken spring (they broke it), a broken bottom panel (they broke the one that they brought to replace the one we broke), a new broken pane of glass (they broke it when the spring broke) and they haven't been back all week to fix this problem.

So I'm now without $1740 from poker and Infiniti, without cell. phone service, without a back window in one of my trucks, and without a functional bay door three weeks before the start of my busy season.

Did I mention I'm going to Vegas in two weeks?

A String of Bad Luck

Apparently, I walked under a ladder or broke a mirror sometime yesterday, because my luck has been absolutely horrible the last twenty four hours...though I hope it is just a 24 hour thing.

The bad luck began to show itself last night at my regular poker game. I hadn't been playing all that well, but I was holding my own through the first game when an opportunity arose where I could put one of the other guys all in. I took the shot and he called after the flop. We flipped our cards to show that I had a substantial lead and it would take some amazing luck...bad in my case, for him to pull this one out. Needless to say, I got cut in half on a terrible river card and scrambled to try and regroup.

I pulled together a couple good hands, but still sat with a significantly smaller stack than the others. My time had come to make a move, I had an ace and after the flop only crappy cards were showing. I made the bold all in move, hoping to take the first round's worth of betting and walk away, but the last guy to bet called me...with an 9-6 of hearts, with two hearts showing. I had the lead, but he was on a draw. Turn was not a heart or a pair for anyone...and then came the river...Ace of hearts. Truly a slap in the face card...and I was out.

More of the same in the second game, eventually getting beaten out by the same guy (Edwin, the Call Station). We both sat as the big and small blinds, and the flop came out 8-6-3, all different suits. I held the big blind special 8-6 off suit and figured there was no better time to go all in. Edwin promptly called (no shit) and flipped over 8-10 off suit. Turn was like a 7 and I called my own shot as the 10 flipped on the River and I went home...frightened by my extraordinary bad luck.

Thankfully, I did not get in a car accident or something on the way home, but I might as well have, as I took my car to the Infiniti dealer this morning to have my tires and brakes looked at, since the tires seemed worn and the brakes were kinda squeaking. And then I got the call...barely an hour ago.

"Mr. J-Man, it looks like you're gonna need new front brake pads and rotors, and all four of your tires need to be replaced. We'd also recommend an alignment with that. The total cost is gonna be about $1700 for all this work."

$1700!!!!!!

$1700!!!!!!

$1700!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Guess I should call my doctor now, so I can make an appointment for him to tell me I have cancer.

Say What?

Apparently, the whale in the arctic picture was a little too obscure for you guys last week, as none of the submitted captions were all that hilarious...so, I'm giving the nod to myself for the best caption. Perhaps things will be a bit better this time around. Please submit your own captions in the comments section. Enjoy:

Another weekend without any pussy.

Toss the Cap

With the NFL (and especially the Redskins) on the verge of a player cutting disaster, as teams over the salary cap are forced to cut veterans and quality players to get on the good side again, I asked myself this simple question: Why does the NFL have a salary cap?

I understand the logic around a salary cap and the idea that by keeping all the teams at approximately the same financial level, even the smaller market teams can compete each and every year. One can only look at baseball as a prime example of a league where the lack of a salary cap has made many teams (Milwaukee, Tampa Bay, Kansas City) nearly unwatchable. However, is football really that similar to baseball?

When I think about football, I would consider it the closest thing to a true "team" sport you can find. With baseball, a dominant pitcher alone can dramatically change the outcome of a team's record. Basketball is even more skewed towards an individual. With football, however, I really don't feel that that is necessarily the case. Obviously, better players are going to make a team more "skilled", but the Patriots and Steelers have proven that it is not necessarily about having the best players to be the Super Bowl Champion. On the other side of that coin, the Redskins under their first few years with Dan Snyder signed the "best" players and fell right on their face.

The point I am getting at is that each team consists of 22 players (more than baseball, hockey, and basketball) who must all work together to form a cohesive unit in order to succeed. Skill is important, but teamwork and communication is even more key. In addition to that, one must also look into the length of the schedule.

For basketball, baseball and hockey, you have significantly longer seasons. It doesn't take a genious to figure out that over a longer season, the more talented teams are going to rise to the top. Yes, a less talented team can beat them once or twice, but not 5-10 times. With football, you get 16 games total, and every one of them is important...just ask the Chargers and Chiefs. If the Royals played in a 16 game season, I bet you they might be a playoff team every once and a while. Check the standings on April 20 and see who's going to the playoffs. Hell, didn't the D-Rays beat the Yankees in the season series last year? And this isn't taking into consideration injuries.

So why do I mention these points? Simple. If the biggest drawback to an NFL without a salary cap is that teams (like the Redskins) would throw their big market money around and get all the best players, thus making certain teams non-competetive, I don't think that argument is valid.

But with no salary cap, the player's salaries would continue to rise to ridiculously high levels, what about that? Good for them. I don't know if any of you guys saw Any Given Sunday (I'm sure you all did), but the doctor hit the nail on the head in describing these guys. When an offensive lineman or a running back (plus the others) ends his career, he still has to go on living with the pain his career inflicting on him...for the rest of his life. I read an article that discussed the physics behind an NFL hit, and a direct comparison was falling off a 4 or 5 story building onto pavement or some shit like that...not sure about the facts, but it was bad. If someone is gonna put their body through that and go on living with pain and horrible arthritis all for other people's entertainment, shit, pay the man millions upon millions of dollars.

But the ticket prices would continue to rise, prohibiting the common family from attending a game, what about that? I always love this argument when people talk about all sports. Have you been to a game recently? It's already that way. Corporations and other businesses buy up all the good tickets, and even the crappy seats are over $20 each. That's why I go to Union Jack's to watch the games. Trust me, it's actually just as good of an experience...25% off burgers and appetizers!

So, I've vented my thoughts, I'm sure some of you guys are gonna disagree with me, and that's fine. But when guys such as long time Cowboy La'Roi Glover and long time Colt Edgerrin James, among others, are forced to change teams because of salary cap restrictions, something just ain't right. Toss the cap...they've got 3 more days, make it happen.

Front Row

In an unexpected turn of luck, the G-man was able to score front row tickets to tonight's Wizards-Pacers game, and I'm getting to go with him. Having only sat front row at a WWF event, I can only hope that a fat sumo wrestler will not tuck his sarong into a thong and slap his ass at us this time around. The odds are in my favor...I hope. I'll give a recap if anything exciting occurs. Thanks, G-man.

Throwback Saturday

When my older brother called me last Saturday to let me know that Davidson was actually on TV playing basketball, I had no idea that being able to watch my alma mater nearly blow a game live would begin what would be a true day of throwback moments.

As I mentioned, Davidson was out to a substantial lead most of the game, having never trailed at any point...until about 1:30 left in the game. Thankfully, a clutch block and three point bucket saved the seniors' final home game, though Davidson is left with only a 3rd place finish in the Southern Conference Regular Season and will require a tournament championship to play any games past this weekend.

Following the game, I got myself ready to head over to my buddy Dave's birthday at his fiance's house. Having dated his fiance, Mayumi, very briefly back in high school, I had been to her house once before, but that was over 10 years ago! (THROWBACK #2)

We arrive and the gathering begins with a variety of guests including Dave's college buddies, work colleagues, and family. Mind you, I haven't seen Dave's family in just as long as I've seen Mayumi's house, and when Dave's sister walks in, I only partially recognize her, leading to this awkward exchange:

Her: Jeff?
Me: (Who is this person? I know I recognize them) Hey, didn't you go to Whitman? (my HS)
Her: Jeff! I'm Dave's sister.
Me: Oh my god. Is my face red.

It all comes back to me and we have Throwback moment #3.

The evening at Dave's ends with a quality shot of tequila courtesy of Mayumi's stepdad, and Amy and I are off to drop her off before I head out to continue the drinking with Dave and the birthday crew.

Unsure as to when they would get down there, I call back my buddy G-Man, who had demanded I go out on Saturday night. Unfortunately, G-Man ends up being a big pussy (yeah, I said it!) and decides he doesn't want to go out since he went out on Friday, so I'm searching for a backup option...and it's already close to 11 PM (didn't want to disturb you Kupe, a la the night I wander around in G-town). And as if by an act of god, my phone rings and it is my younger brother, Kevin.

After some discussion, I decide I'm heading over to his place to head out with him and his friends to eventually meet up with Dave in Adam's Morgan. Things appear to be working out well and as I arrive at his place and see beirut already set up, things can only get better. You realize it's been like a year since I played beirut, and almost 3 years since I've played with my brother. And then there were 4 throwback moments.

We finish a few games and grab the metro. One of Kevin's friends has graciously made a roady of Cranberry and vodka and all is going well...that is until we start walking from the metro to Adam's Morgan. The beer and piss are filling up inside of me and I need to piss bad. I'm seeing salvation at the end of the bridge, where I usually go, and in anticipation the pee comes to the forefront. You know what I'm talking about, you know you're about to pee so it comes out of the dugout and gets right on deck, making you feel like you have to go with even more urgency. AND THERE'S A COP SITTING RIGHT THERE. Oh, I'm fucked. I am in physical pain now, as are my brother and his roommate, as we are shot down from the standard pee location. After a few hundred feet, I can't take it any more. I whip it out and proceed with the walking piss, a move I haven't used in almost 5 years. THROWBACK.

Unfortunately, some dude comes walking past us and I'm forced to duck into someone's sunken entrance to finish up. My bro has already begun tagging this area when I arrive, and we are both startled as the light turns on and a women yells at us, "Real classy, guys!" She was right, couldn't have said it better myself.

Onward to Dan's and the most horrible moment in my entire life. I've described Dan's in past posts, and most of you know the place anyway, so I'll spare you the setup. After we're there for a while and since I've broken the seal on the walk, I have to go to the bathroom. When I get to the door marked MEN, I smell the strong vile odor of stale urine and I know I'm in for trouble. I open the first door and the stench punches me right in the face as I stare down at a puddle of something on the floor...but I'm not in the bathroom yet, just the intermediate door. I trudge through the little stream and open the second door. Bad idea.

This time, the reak is so bad, it is basically 6'4" 250 and it ninja kicks me squaw in the gut. I can barely breath as I try to do my business and even pulling my shirt up over my face doesn't help. Screw washing my hands, I bolt from the pisser mid zip up, happy to still be alive. It was definitely the worst smell I have ever encountered in my life...and that's saying a lot considering I've pulled dead rotting animals out of pools after Winter's of decompisition. Yeah, I went there...and it was worse. Thankfully, this was not a throwback moment, and I hope I never a moment like that again.

But upon exiting Dan's and entering Roxanne's, I ran into six girls who also went to Davidson with me, including my sophomore roommate's fiance. After attempting to communicate with them for a few minutes (mind you I had the tequila shot, played beirut, and went to Dan's..talk about throwing back) I took off to meet back up with everyone who went in without me.

Barely able to stand, my night soon comes to an end, as Dave and I catch a cab to the metro. Dave enjoyed a nice moment of passing out on the ride to the White Flint stop, and we were both forced to run to the car, because it was like 10 degrees outside and the beer coat evidently stops working after 3 AM.

Just like the good old days...truly a nice throwback night.

Say What?

Some solid attempts at a caption last week...I gotta give the nod to Pogue for his contribution. Since I actually got some replies, I figured I'd bring it back again this week, so here is the second installment of "Say What?". Please add your own caption(s) in the Comments, you witty bastards.

Researchers in the North Pole were greatly discouraged when a routine dig accidentally hit Santa's septic tank.

J-Man goes to the Gym?

As I mentioned several weeks back, my brother got me to join Gold's Gym back in January and after a couple visits, I became deathly ill with the shits and such. The shitting has obviously subsided and I have regained my strength, so it was time to make some use out of the $30 I'll be forking over each month.

I've never been a big fan of gyms because I've always gotten the impression that it's just a place for dudes to try and prove who has the bigger wang, by strutting around in tank tops and weight belts, while striking a pose for all the ladies who are straddling the stationary bikes trying to peddle off the cottage cheese thighs they've developed since they landed that desk job. And then I thought, there can be no better place for comedy, and I'll keep myself in shape at the same time...what the hell.

So, last Wednesday, I began my first week of going to the gym, and though I don't feel any stronger at this point, the classic moments will continue to pile on like layers of muscle in my mind.

The first classic moment involved a guy, who I will call "Constipation Face." Now, old C-Face is up by the dumbbells doing your basic standing curl to work on the beach muscles. This is my shoulder workout day, so sadly I could not join C-Face in his routine, but I think I will add it to my repertoire for future visits. The key to his workout is to stand about 2 feet from the mirror, and really give yourself a solid stare down...you gotta psyche that guy out. Then, with a tremendous groan, you have to heave that dumbbell up while simultaneously giving yourself a "I could just as easily be sitting on the toilet" face contortion. I am well versed in this artform from the various times that I visit any friends or family that happen to have a mirror directly in front of the toilet. Yes, it's a bit odd at first, but after a while it's almost like watching an episode of Flavor of Love. I've only seen C-Face that one time, so hopefully he didn't give himself irreparable hemmoroidal flair up. I'll say a prayer for him.

A second moment came just two days ago, when I ended up going to the gym by myself and forgot my iPod. The music in the gym is usually good, but for some reason it was crappy that day, so I figured I'd just see what other people were up to. Luckily, there were two 5'6" Asian juicers working out next to me, so obviously something entertaining was bound to happen. And that's when they brought to me a new catch phrase, which I have been abusing for the last few days: "Good set!" They must have said it every 5 minutes and it was always accompanied with a head nod and a look around to see if anyone else noticed the 110 lb. dumbbells they were tossing up. Sadly, there were no women around, and therefore I began feeling increasingly awkward, and quickly moved onto a different exercise in a different area. I was done anyway...good set!

The comedy continued as I finished up my workout and heading back to my locker to change one day. I had been watching the USA-Latvia (or some shit) hockey game while I worked out on the nordic machine, and it had pretty much been 1-0 for the whole time I was watching. After grabbing a drink of water and sitting down by my locker, I heard the announcer for the game over the speakers in the locker room say that Latvia had scored again, and now lead 2-1?!! What?! I was pretty baffled, so I turned to the kid down the way from me and asked if Latvia had just scored two goals in like the last 2 minutes. He confirmed this debacle and I went back to changing while listening to the announcer. A few seconds later, another shot was taken and the announcer made it sound like a third goal, so I turned to the same guy and yelled, "what the hell..."

But something was different with the scene this time. Something terribly different. Something new had entered my field of vision. Yes, the same kid was there, but directly behind him (I'm talking 2 feet max.) stood an old naked man. How in the hell did this guy get over there and naked so quickly....and why is he standing so close to this other guy? I nearly bust out laughing and quickly turn back to my clothes to finish up. I knew this was common place, but it is still humorous to me because we are constantly joking about all the naked old men that our technicians run into at work, who are swimming when we arrive. Old men just enjoy being naked I guess. And this guy was out to prove it. Because I got dressed, got up and went over to the sink; washed my hands and fixed my hair, and this dude was still naked. But now he had moved to the center of the room and was looking at himself in the mirror. Dead center, for all to see. Classic old guy move. Classic gym move.

He didn't need the tank top and weight belt. He just whipped it out. Now, that's old school.

Finally...some baseball

With the end of the football season came the dreaded portion of the year that can best be described as "the worst two months of sports" or "the fantasy sports black hole". You see, no one should ever be involved in a fantasy basketball or hockey league, and especially not fantasy NASCAR or golf (Dave!), so that pretty much just leaves Football and Baseball. Thankfully, baseball takes up most of the year, and football picks up right as baseball is wrapping up...but then there's the gap.

And that gap has finally come to an end. My days of going onto the internet and having no sports news to care about (except Redskins offseason news, which is grim given their salary cap issues) are over. Today I drafted my first fantasy baseball team of the year.

You see, every year, I celebrate the reintroduction of baseball by signing up for a free Yahoo public fantasy baseball league, as soon as they are offered. I picked the earliest draft date I could find, and this morning at 10:30, I wasted an excellent hour and a half (which never happens in my other leagues) drafting my new squad. In two more weeks, I will painfully spend close to 7-9 hours having my keeper league auction, and when the stars align and all the owners can agree, I will even more painfully spend 5-7 hours drafting my league with my friends. Yes, three fantasy leagues. Two for money. It's about the only thing that makes me want to wake up in the morning during the Summer, when work is so hard I forget what day of the week it is. That's why I love it.

And with the completion of my first draft comes my first fantasy baseball commentary of the year. Am I an expert, worth reading? No, but we're in the "gap" what else do you have to read?

So here's what I ended up with:

C Rod Barajas, TEX: I grabbed this guy in the second to last round after I missed out on the top few quality catchers. This year I decided to treat catchers like I treat tight ends in fantasy football. If I don't grab one of the top 3, I'll pick one up at the end...because they're all crap after the top guys. I could have done worse. Barajas should be good for 20 HR playing in Texas.

1B Derek Lee, CHC: This is my first round pick. I ended up with the 7th overall pick, and I just couldn't pass up on him. He's continued to get better each year and last year, he was just silly.

2B Marcus Giles, ATL: I was very happy to grab this guy in the 5th round. Definitely a good value, especially since he plays second.

3B Melvin Mora, BAL: He slipped til late in the draft and I'm hoping he'll bounce back to the kind of stats he put up two years ago. I'm not holding my breath, but he's above average.

SS Jimmy Rollins, PHI: I love this guy and I was able to grab him in the 3rd round. He should provide me with the SB boost I need, even though he's no Jose Reyes.

OF Bobby Abreu, PHI: My second round pick. Not much to say here. He's always a 30-30 threat...plug and play.

OF Cliff Floyd, NYM: I don't know what it is about Floyd. I always seem to end up with him on my squads because everyone else is afraid of his injury risk. He served me well in my Yahoo League last year (which I won), so he deserves to return to at least one of my teams.

OF Preston Wilson, HOU: I swear he and Floyd are the same guy. He got a bad rap last year because he played in Washington, where everyone sucks. Hopefully the shift to Houston will help him out.

UT Richie Sexson, SEA: Another J-Man favorite. I can't go wrong with a 40-50 HR threat who has Ichiro batting in front of him.

SP John Lackey, LAA: Something had to give to provide me with a solid offense, but I feel OK with Lackey as my #1 starter. I'm definitely weak here, but he's a 200 K style pitcher on a good team, so he's got a high ceiling.

SP Doug Davis, MIL: Milwaukee has a really good pitching coach (see Capuano, Kolb and Turnbow) and Davis really flies under the radar for a 200 K possibility. I'd rather have him as my third or fourth starter, but we've already gone over that.

RP Brad Lidge, HOU: He's nasty. Plain and simple.

RP Trevor Hoffman, SD: He's getting older, but Petco is still a pitcher's park and that team is gonna keep winning in the NL West.

P Zach Duke, PIT: I'm not sold on this kid, but he was the best available when I took him. Hopefully, he keeps the magic from last year going.

P Oliver Perez, PIT: Two starting pitchers from the Pirates, that can't be good. He was solid two years ago and always has a good K/IP, so hopefully last year was a result of injuries.

P Ryan Dempster, CHC: I stole him late in the draft (sandwiched between Mike Mussina and Chris Ray) and I feel pretty happy with a Cubs closer as my third reliever when some of the teams have only one on their squad.

Bench:
Jonny Gomes, TB: He was decent last year as I had him in all my leagues at one point, so why not see if he can keep it up for those times when Floyd and Wilson are hurt.

Mike Jacobs, FLA: I accidentally took this guy thinking he was still eligible for catcher. Unfortunately, he's only a 1B, but there's really no one else on Florida except Cabrera, so someone's got to get RBI's

Kenny Rogers, DET: Yes, I took the gambler.

Daniel Cabrera, BAL: Leo Mazzone better be the pitching genius every makes him out to be, or it's gonna be a long year of me debating whether I should cut this guy with a sick K/IP.

Shawn Chacon, NYY: I had to grab a Yankee, my last pick of the draft.


Overall, I like my squad. Based on the other 11 teams, I'd put my squad around 3-5, with the chance at the title if some of these pitchers put it all together.

Say What?

I am thinking about adding a new recurring theme to my blog, which will make it a bit more interactive as well as minimize the amount of thought I need to put into writing a post. So here is my trial run of my new recurring theme: Say What?

Here's how it works. I will post a picture every Thursday night/Friday so that you can sit at your desk on Friday and kill time trying to come up with a caption more retarded (or clever, you witty bastards) than mine. Post your own caption(s) in the "Comments." The person with the best caption wins absolutely nothing, but at least you weren't working. Enjoy:

Now that my chances for a medal are gone, I guess I can finally pee in my helmet.

Top 10: Movie Bad Guys

In keeping with my promise to try and bring more of the repeated themed posts back, here is a new Top 10 list dedicated to the characters that pissed me off, gave me nightmares, and who just plain evil. This was really one of the toughest lists to narrow down, but I think this is a good (well, bad) bunch. Enjoy my:

Top 10 Best Movie Villains
Honorable mention: The Shark - Jaws: I don't usually give an honorable mention, but since he actually wasn't a real character, I thought I'd make an exception here. You gotta admit, the shark made you think twice before going swimming after you saw this movie.
10. Al Capone (Robert DeNiro) - The Untouchables: His cronie does more of the bad guy stuff in this movie, but the one scene with the baseball bat is all it takes to put that man on this list.
9. Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman) - Die Hard: It's gotta be the accent, but this guy's a real jerk. He smoked Harry after he pretended to be Bruce Willis' friend, and he died the way so many classic bad guys go (plummeting from a building).
8. Unicron (Orson Welles) - Transformers: The Movie: They introduced this character out of no where and he was a Transformer that was a whole planet! And he ate some of the prime Autobots that I grew up watching. That's a bold move, and a scary scene for a 10 year old. Watch the movie for yourself...he's pretty scary for a cartoon.
7. Max Cady (Robert DeNiro) - Cape Fear: The scenes from this movie have been parodied so many times, you have to respect the bad guy. All the tattoos, smoking the big cigar...and it's freakin' Robert DeNiro again. He's one scary bastard.
6. John Doe (Kevin Spacey) - Se7en: This is less the character than the acts he performs and the movie as a whole. Disturbing, simply disturbing.
5. Ivan Drago (Dolph Lundgren) - Rocky IV: This Russian monster killed Apollo! Apollo! There's no easy way out. There's no shortcut home. There's no easy way out. Givin in, givin in, can't be wrong.
4. Wicked Witch of the West (Margaret Hamilton) - The Wizard of Oz: She's pretty much as evil as they come. Hell, wicked is in her name. And she wanted to kill a Cairn Terrier...that's just mean.
3. Freddy Krueger (Robert Englund) - Nightmare on Elm Street: I obviously saw this movie when I was way too young, because I slept on the floor in my parents room for a week after it. There's just something really scary about a guy who can kill you in your dreams. He's only really scary in the first movie though, so don't bother with the sequels.
2. Hannibal Lector (Anthony Hopkins) - Silence of the Lambs: He's a real type of evil...serial killer...cannibal...extremely intelligent. While most of the others on the list are characatures, he's the real deal, and that's why he's number 2.
1. Darth Vader (Voice of James Earl Jones) - Empire Strikes Back: Darth Vader is the perfect characature of evil. He's more than likely the first picture that pops into one's head when they think of bad guys and he's is undoubtedly my #1 pick.

Bad Parenting

So, today I had to take my dog, Chloe, to the vet. This visit was partly a routine visit for shots, and partly because she has a serious crapping issue. You see, about a week ago, Chloe ate a bunch of stuff including a piece of a rubber tennis ball she destroyed, pieces of broken tile from a bathroom project Amy has been working on for several weeks now, and a pencil because well, she found a pencil and felt like eating it.


Now, this type of feasting is not abnormal for Chloe, but this time around, something appeared to get stuck...or so I thought. Soon after eating this stuff, Chloe showed signs of distress when trying to drop a number 2 in the backyard. She'd strain and arch her back funny, flail around trying to look back there to see what's going on, and stop short of completion, after flinging the few pieces of poop she could get out all over the place. Obviously, someone needed to look into this, thus the doctor's visit.

So, we get to the vet and I give the doctor the rundown on what's been happening with Chloe. As I'm telling him this story, I'm thinking to myself, is he judging me? Am I a bad dog owner because I allowed my dog to eat rubber, ceramic and wood? I'm pretty sure if I went to a real doctor with these same problems for a child, he'd probably call in some outside "counselors." But hell, she's a dog right? My old dog, Clyde, had to have a surgery to remove a deer hoof and a koosh ball from his stomach, so maybe it's just a dog thing? Or maybe bad parenting runs in my family?

I've turned out pretty normal, as have my two brothers, so I'm thinking that's not the case. I mean, we never ran around like crazed idiots trying on display shoes at the Champs Sports when we were kids. And we certainly didn't stroll over to another table at a restaurant and disturb a couple as they were enjoying their dinner. And we definitely did not jam our toys in the skimmers and main drain of a pool, causing it to clog the system and require hours of work to remove. Yeah, I think we're OK.

So, I finish the story and the doctor takes Chloe in the back to "check things out." I had a bout of colitis a few years back, so I can feel for Chloe's dilemma over the next few minutes...ugh...and when the doctor returns he gives me his prognosis.

Well, he checked around in there and found that the anal or skunk glands had gotten a bit overfilled. This has actually happened before because Chloe has for some reason not learned the age old dog trick of the scoot, whereby she would cleanse these glands by scooting around on her ass, much to the amusement of all onlookers. Well, more than likely, these swollen glands have been rubbing against the poo as it passes and causing her discomfort. A quick purging of the glands and she's more than likely good to go. What do you know? Doesn't appear to have been the rubber, ceramic and wood after all. I guess I'm not a bad parent as originally perceived.

So, we get back into the car, Chloe jumps on my lap, and we drive away.

What's that? Screw you for judging me!

Pass the Charmin

I prefer Charmin Extra Soft toilet paper, yet my girlfriend is opposed to it. Not sure why? Most of the time I win because I get the giant 48 pack at Costco before she even realizes we're running low and then she has to deal with it for the next five months. However, this go round I dropped the ball and she ended up picking up some quilted one-ply bullshit that now sits in our bathroom.

And it got me to thinking...why do they even make one-ply? Are people really that cheap? Or stupid? Yeah you get twice as much TP in length, but I have a strict minimum number of plys that must be between my hand and my ass. If I have to fold it over twice as much to get to that quota, I will do just that. Screw you Cotonelle! Ain't no way there's gonna be only one thin ply between me and a stink palm.

Best of the Dirty Filter

Well, with almost 200 entries and almost a year (yep, one year in March) of typing, I felt it was time we were all able to easily look back on some of the better posts of the past. Let's be honest, most of them were crap and who wants to sift through all that to find the winners? Not me, and I'm writing this shit.

So, I have just added new links to the bottom of the right side, allowing you to link to some of my personal favorites as well as my repeating themes: Top 10 Lists, Fuzzy Memories, and Brain Farts.

I hope everyone enjoys the added ease and perhaps this will motivate me to post a few more quality entries.

Some Sports Tidbits

Here's a few tidbits I just thought I'd throw out there, and what better time for such a post than the day after the Super Bowl:

• Didn't the whole Jerome Bettis thing seem just a little too perfect this Super Bowl. I mean, he walks up there and gives this speech that "The Bus's Last Stop is in Detroit." I swear I've seen something like this before. I just don't know why they stopped there...the lights should have dimmed, "I Am a Real American" should have started pumping over the sound system, and the Bus should have ripped off his Super Bowl T-Shirt and given all his fans one last flex pose.
• OK, this is an odd coincidence. A few days ago, Nomar Garciaparra announces that he is not going to participate in the World Baseball Classic for Mexico because he wants to focus on changing positions for his new team, the Dodgers. And what's this...today they announce that 2 players will randomly be tested following every WBC game? Yeah, that pretty much seals it for me. Nomar is so juiced up, I'll bet Mia Hamm even tests positive for steroids (fill in your own filthy conclusions)
• How sick are the Detroit Pistons? They lose Larry Brown (who is obviously a coaching genius, worth all the fuss he caused) and they are still the best team in the NBA right now. Their top 6 players are ridiculous and this is all despite having Darko "Yes, I actually was drafted before Carmelo and Dwayne Wade" Milicic on the team.
• Obviously, there were some bad calls in the Super Bowl that may have affected the outcome of the game (the Offensive Pass Interference call on Darrell Jackson in the endzone or the holding call on the pass to the 2 yard line), but the technical foul call in the FSU-Duke game is just another example that makes me wonder just how much money the NCAA gets from Duke University each year to make sure they don't lose. I mean, this team gets 5 McDonald's All-Americans every year and they get all the calls too?! Suspending those officials one game...wow...that'll really throw us off the scent.
• And I'd also like to add that I am really psyched about Warren Moon getting inducted into the Hall of Fame on his first attempt. Aside from the fact that he was my favorite player growing up (the guy threw for 300+ yards every game, who wouldn't be a fan), that I have about 6 of his rookie card and his signature on two plaques, and that he beat his wife, this guy threw for more yards than any other quarterback in the history of FOOTBALL and somehow never seems to get mentioned in the same breath as Dan Marino and John Elway. Hopefully, this will help.

Polamalu

Po-la-ma-lu. That guy is good. Not much else to say here. And, yes, I have had a bit to drink. Screw you, it's my blog and I'll post when I feel like it. Po-la-ma-lu.

Super Bowl Predictions
Seattle - 38
Pittsburgh - 14
Bill Cowher - Several angry faces
Miller Light - Best commercial
Halftime - Worst ever, and thankfully no tits
Anna Benson - Somewhat over-rated and apparently not associated with the Super Bowl at all


Lofa Tatupu.

Car Sickness Update

In a shocking and monumental turn of events, my brother has shattered his previous mark of turning over cars by signing over the lease to his newest car, the Lexus IS350, to my mother. In exchange, he will take over the final 6 months of her leased 2003 Infiniti G35 Coupe. With this move, that puts his total time for possessing his Lexus at just over 2 weeks and his total number of cars at 7 in 8 years...stupendous.

Citing a lack of budget for the latest move, my brother has now shown the abilities to make moves at a more rapid pace than Omar Minaya, though no Hispanics were involved in these transactions (well maybe in the final washing of the Lexus).

Somebody get me some more cowbell...and pronto!