I know the other day that I made light of Hurricane Katrina and the coverage given to it by the national media. While I am not rescinding my criticism of the media, I am rescinding any statements that may have been construed as undermining the severity of this storm and the devastation that it has now caused.
Tonight, for the first time since the Hurricane struck, I sat down and watched CNN to get a better idea of what exactly is going on. While watching the coverage, there was a phone call from a registered nurse, who is currently working at one of the hospitals in New Orleans. This nurse told a story of absolute desparation as she stated that the hospital in which she was working had no water, no electricity, no more beds, and was essentially existing in "beyond primitive conditions" with the patients sitting on floors that were covered in feces. She stated that her and her fellow co-workers had been working around the clock without sleep and were starting to fear for her own safety. She also described how the staff had begun to administer IV's to one another because they were starting to suffer from the ill effects of malnurishment.
As she told of her horrific existence, her voice cracked, and she started to cry. As she cried, she said that she contacted the show because she wanted someone to know that they needed help and wanted to know when help was coming as no one had helped them yet. I have never heard another person talk or sound the way that she did as her voice was filled with pure desperation. She was a human being who sounded like she had reached her breaking point and all I wanted to do was help her.
And I am sure that her story is only the tip of iceberg for the area of this country that has been destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. I mean you cannot go anywhere in the City today without seeing the images of the devastation whether it be on the news or in print, the likes of which many of us have never seen. These images of the destruction are juxtaposed by the images of some of the people of this area looting and taking to the streets armed with guns as martial law has gripped the affected area. While I do not agree with the choice these individuals have made especially when I see them stealing non-essential items like televisions and other luxuries, I cannot even begin to imagine the fear that some of these same people must be feeling as they lack shelter, food, water, and even basic safety. It truly is world without law and order.
And while some may say that these people should have left before the hurricane struck, the truth of the matter is that some of the worst affected areas were the poorest, which means that the inhabitants of these areas lacked the means necessary to flee from the hurricane. Instead, they did what they have probably always done when facing a situation like this one attempting to wait it out in their homes. The problem of course is that this time, the storm was far worse than anything they had ever experienced in the past. Further, it is unclear where these people would have gone anyway since the devastation is so widespread.
As a result of hearing this woman speak and then thinking about this entire tragedy, I had to do everything in my power not to cry because there I sat thousands of miles away in my apartment safe, well fed, and without a fear in the world. My heart ached and continues to ache for the people of the affected areas and their families who may be worried if their family members are still alive. All of these thoughts really made me feel downright awful about all the crap that I have been complaining about of late providing me with real perspective about how trivial my life's problems truly are in comparison.
I also started to wonder what exactly I could do to help these people. After a quick Google search, I found that a comprehensive resource for information about relief efforts and what we can do to help is the Red Cross Website. At this site, you can also make a monetary donation. The donation process is very easy to complete and is secure. The only issue I had was that there was heavy traffic on the site, and thus, you may have to wait awhile for the site to open up, but the wait is worth it, as the donation goes directly to the relief efforts being undertaken by the Red Cross. Additionally, this site provides you with ability to search for your local chapter of the Red Cross in case you want to find other relief efforts that are being undertaken in your community.
In addition to the Red Cross Website, I found their companion site, GiveLife.org,which provides information about the opportunities to donate blood in your area, which is an essential commodity right now. Moreover, this website for the Federal Emergency Management Agency is another comprehensive resource to find other groups that are helping with the relief efforts. Finally, I guess if none of the above is appealing to your voluntary desires just plug in Hurricane Katrina into Google, and I am sure that you will find something that suits your needs.
Of course, I do not want to come off sounding like you have to go out and do any of this as the above is just meant to be a guide if you want to help out right now. Further, if you do not do anything that does not make you a bad person or even the spawn of satan, I just figured if I was thinking about this stuff and what I could do, other's may be interested in what options are out there as well. In the end, maybe the simplest thing that you can do is to keep these people in your thoughts and prayers.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Once A Runner
Today's subject heading is actually the title of one of the best book's that I have ever read by John L. Parke, Jr. It is the account of a college runner, Quentin Cassidy, and his quest to become a dominate runner. The book basically embodies everything I love about running, and I guarantee if you read it, you will want to go out there and just run as fast as you can. Mainly due to quotes like this one:
A true Runner ran even when he didn't feel like it, and raced when he was suppose to, w/o excuses and with nothing held back. He ran to win and would die in the process,running to him was real, the way he did it the realest thing he knew...hard as diamond,it made him weary beyond comprehension, but it also made him free.
But today, the heading will serve as the lead-in to my update on running entry.
As a I wrote a couple of weeks ago, I have been employing the 10% training method in order to resurrect my running career. As a result, two weeks ago I ran 12 miles, last week I ran 13, and this week I will cover 14 miles. I am rounding down the percentage so that I will do less mileage in order to build my strength at a slower rate. In training this way, I hope to avoid injury and build a solid base.
So far everything is going just as I had hoped. I am not running that fast mainly due to the humidity, which is the worst weather for me to run in and makes it very difficult for me to breath. I am, however, getting quality runs in and remaining relatively injury free. I did experience a little shin tenderness yesterday for first time yesterday, but I have backed off a bit and things should be ok. Plus, I am stretching a hell of a lot more.
Tonight's run, which made me realize an update was in order, was the first time that I pushed it above the four mile mark. Tonight, I ran 6.5 miles in a relatively slow time, but more importantly, I felt really good and really comfortable for the majority of the run. The run itself took me over the Williamsburg Bridge and back. This is a run that if you live in this area should be done atleast once a week mainly because it allows you a great run over the East River with an amazing view of both lower and upper parts of Manhattan. Plus, you are running on a pedestrian walkway and thus, do not have to deal with automobiles and all that bull shit.
As for my progress so far, it is hard to gauge exactly how fast I am running or if I am improving at this point mainly because the weather is not exactly conducive to me running my fastest times or for me to feel totally comfortable, but from what I can tell, I should be able to start to incorporate some speed workouts once I get above the 15 mile mark for a week. Once I am there, I will have a better handle on what races I am going to do in the coming fall season, which is my favorite time of the year to run and what kind of speed I will be able to exhibit during these races.
One positive so far, is that I definitely do not feel like on every run I am trying to push through being hungover or that my lungs spent the evening before smoking three packs of cigarettes. I will take that upside any day versus the past feelings during a run.
Finally, this weekend, I may try and get out and run a cross country race at Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx, one of the premiere venues for cross country racing. It is a four miler and would be a lot of fun. I have not run a cross country race since I was in high school and this would be one of the coolest things that I could do for my Labor Day weekend I truly love cross country racing over any other type of racing because there is a true "animalistic one with nature" quality to it that makes me feel like I am competing not only against my fellow man but the course itself. It's a pretty primal experience.
Now, I must relax and recover from the today's pounding of the pavement.
A true Runner ran even when he didn't feel like it, and raced when he was suppose to, w/o excuses and with nothing held back. He ran to win and would die in the process,running to him was real, the way he did it the realest thing he knew...hard as diamond,it made him weary beyond comprehension, but it also made him free.
But today, the heading will serve as the lead-in to my update on running entry.
As a I wrote a couple of weeks ago, I have been employing the 10% training method in order to resurrect my running career. As a result, two weeks ago I ran 12 miles, last week I ran 13, and this week I will cover 14 miles. I am rounding down the percentage so that I will do less mileage in order to build my strength at a slower rate. In training this way, I hope to avoid injury and build a solid base.
So far everything is going just as I had hoped. I am not running that fast mainly due to the humidity, which is the worst weather for me to run in and makes it very difficult for me to breath. I am, however, getting quality runs in and remaining relatively injury free. I did experience a little shin tenderness yesterday for first time yesterday, but I have backed off a bit and things should be ok. Plus, I am stretching a hell of a lot more.
Tonight's run, which made me realize an update was in order, was the first time that I pushed it above the four mile mark. Tonight, I ran 6.5 miles in a relatively slow time, but more importantly, I felt really good and really comfortable for the majority of the run. The run itself took me over the Williamsburg Bridge and back. This is a run that if you live in this area should be done atleast once a week mainly because it allows you a great run over the East River with an amazing view of both lower and upper parts of Manhattan. Plus, you are running on a pedestrian walkway and thus, do not have to deal with automobiles and all that bull shit.
As for my progress so far, it is hard to gauge exactly how fast I am running or if I am improving at this point mainly because the weather is not exactly conducive to me running my fastest times or for me to feel totally comfortable, but from what I can tell, I should be able to start to incorporate some speed workouts once I get above the 15 mile mark for a week. Once I am there, I will have a better handle on what races I am going to do in the coming fall season, which is my favorite time of the year to run and what kind of speed I will be able to exhibit during these races.
One positive so far, is that I definitely do not feel like on every run I am trying to push through being hungover or that my lungs spent the evening before smoking three packs of cigarettes. I will take that upside any day versus the past feelings during a run.
Finally, this weekend, I may try and get out and run a cross country race at Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx, one of the premiere venues for cross country racing. It is a four miler and would be a lot of fun. I have not run a cross country race since I was in high school and this would be one of the coolest things that I could do for my Labor Day weekend I truly love cross country racing over any other type of racing because there is a true "animalistic one with nature" quality to it that makes me feel like I am competing not only against my fellow man but the course itself. It's a pretty primal experience.
Now, I must relax and recover from the today's pounding of the pavement.
Some General Complaints And Then I Sleep (The Remix Version)
Just checking in to make my daily complaints about everything that bothered me today and since I was in such a bang up of a mood after last night's Diddy Variety Show on MTV, there may be a lot to write about...
Two follow-ups from last night's recap before I tear Monday and the human race a new asshole...
First, there is a rumor that Suge Knight shot himself in the leg with his own gun this weekend. Of course, the police cannot find the gun probably because his bodyguards disposed of it due to the fact that if Suge is found with a firearm, he violates parole and is back to being Big Earl's "Go Bitch" in the joint... BUT if the police do discover that he shot himself in the leg, can they just shoot him to spare us the inevitable and to keep him out of the news? I love you Suge, really, but can he stop fucken up the program? (I had to say that last line so that I would not be killed by Suge.)
Second, the party at which he was shot hosted by Kanye West, apparently, did not have anyone searching for weapons at the door. Just so I am clear, if I throw a party and invite Suge Knight, I am searching for guns, knifes, string, and anything else that could be used to kill another human being.
To hammer home how crazy this lack of security is... in New Orleans this weekend, officials were searching the people seeking shelter from Hurricane Katrina in the Superdome for drugs and weapons. These people were trying to avoid death in a horrific storm and were being searched... But in Miami, at a party that has Suge Knight in attendance, who is the individual blamed for starting the East Coast versus West Coast rap war, there is no such search requirement.... good hustle fellas.
Now onto the complaints, first and foremost and for the record (Note: As an attorney, I am always making a record.), Monday is the bastard child of the work week as no matter how you try to sugarcoat it, Monday's absolutely fucken blow. This is because on Mondays, people show up exhibiting some form of exhaustion and/or withdrawal from the weekend's festivities. As a result, I propose that it be mandatory that no work can start before 10 AM on Mondays in order to ease the work force into the work week.
Additionally, it will get rid of all the Monday morning peppy people, who are constantly filling Monday mornings with white noise as they feel the need to announce to the office the events oft heir weekend, which is always the craziest and BEST WEEKEND OF ALL TIME. If we push the day back,however, these people will already have shot their peppy load come ten o'clock in the morning by talking to themselves. Thus, us non-peppy people will not have to listen to their bull shit as we try to figure out how we got to work in the first place and why we didn't just call in sick. Further, this will lessen the chance that I will end up curb stomping someone at 9 in the morning. It's for the greater good here people because I do not need to kill anyone, atleast not right now.
Now, if we are not going to make the work week start later on Monday mornings, then I propose that no one is allowed to spea until 10 AM on Mondays. In this way, we will eliminate all of the "how was your weekend" and "how are you feeling" bull shit conversations that pervade our Mondays. I too am guilty of asking these questions, but I ask as a matter of habit and not because I really care about the fact that you spent the weekend in some shit hole of a bar in Hoboken, hooking up with some fattie, and were SO WASTED... In reality, while you are talking, I am thinking about what websites I have not looked at yet this morning, writing this entry, and if friend X, e-mailed me yet today about the Sox game last night. I would say eliminate Mondays from the work week entirely but really Tuesdays would then be just as bad as Mondays, and thus, we would just have to adopt the above suggestions for Tuesday mornings.
One final thought on this topic, if you get the chance, watch how the chippy peppy fuckers are always the people, who by Wednesday, are having a mental breakdown about how much work they have and are totally burned out on the week. Their existence is basically an exercise in futility as they prove to be essentially worthless to the overall productivity of the office due to the fact that they are productive at the one time that no one else is i.e. Monday mornings and then, fall off the wagon by the time the rest of the office picks up steam i.e. 11 Am to 1 PM on Wednesdays... As a result, I am not sure what we should do with these individuals, but one idea is the public execution of a select few of them in order to make an example of them to the remainder of Peppy Nation... (I am not crazy people, I just need help.)
Next up, humidity... I go to Vegas every year because I love wickedly hot temperatures. I like to sit in the sun in order to sweat and bake. What I cannot stand is humidity... And I am not talking about normal humidity rather I am talking about the "seventh circle of hell" humidity that exists in New York City during the summer. As I wrote about on Saturday, this past weekend, it appeared that humidity had finally released us from its evil grasp for the summer as there was a pleasant breeze and nothing to make my boxers stick to my balls for an entire afternoon. In reality, humidity was just fucking with us as it promptly reentered the picture Saturday evening while I was at an 80's party in Jersey City. (I know all parties in Jersey are 80's Parties, easy guys...) Slowly but surely, humidity took over Saturday evening and by the time I woke on Sunday, it was in full effect ready to ruin three to four of my t-shirts and multiple pairs of boxers... (I am a sweater, I sweat)...
The worst part about the humidity in the City is the apparent alliance it has formed with the subway stations. The subway stations, which already smell like dead rat, garbage, and piss, reach new levels of funk when they are combined with 100+ degree temperatures and 300% humidity. It is really hard to explain what the actual feeling is when you enter a subway station, but I assure you that if you are not expecting that first blast of heat and stench when you descend those fateful stairs, it will take your breath away meaning that when you enter one of these bad boys, you quickly realized that you are actually feeling the fires of hell firsthand topped off with a mugginess that causes immediate liquification of the skin along with a wicked case of swamp ass.
The humidity/subway station axis of evil makes the whole wearing a suit to work thing that much more uncomfortable to the point that the last thing that I make sure that I have before I walk out the door is a fat kid towel to wipe myself down after the walk to the subway. Couple these conditions with my lack of hair and by the time, I get to the platform, I have sweat dripping down my face, back, butt, and balls. It is a sad state of affairs being a fat kid playing the role of an attorney during the summer in New York City. (Actually, I think that is a new Kevin Smith film or atleast something he has in the works starring Ben Affleck.)
Finally, I have said this to a bunch of friends over the last couple of days and thus will make short order of my third and final complaint for the evening. I cannot stand car horns and how people in New York City feel the need to blast their horns whenever someone fails to get off the line the second the light turns green. Many complain about this daily occurrence for the simple reason of WHAT GOOD DOES IT DO, besides making that person angry, you angry, and passerby's angry. It certainly does not make traffic move quicker. I argue that it creates more traffic because once that horn goes off, everyone usually stops to figure out who is honking and who they are honking at.
So I have a simple proposal to correct this over zealous abuse of the car horn, each car should be equipped with a sensor that detects unnecessary usage of the horn. Once the car senses this usage, it would initiate a self-detonating device that would essentially blow up anyone in the car while not affecting anyone on the outside of the car or the car itself. As a result, we eliminate the problem without hurting anyone else. Sure it means that someone is dead but that is one less car horn abuser to worry about and that is the goal, right?
So those are the complaints and since it's Tuesday morning, I should hit it... I have more things to complain about like how the Yankees have clearly made a deal with the devil this summer and are thus making their requisite push to the playoffs... or how my job sucks so bad that I may actively attempt to get fired... But those are for another day...
For the record (there it is again), I wrote this entire thing in the nude while listening to Bruce Springsteen's Greatest Hits... I think that's a hookup in Jersey...
Take it in the ass...
R.D.
Two follow-ups from last night's recap before I tear Monday and the human race a new asshole...
First, there is a rumor that Suge Knight shot himself in the leg with his own gun this weekend. Of course, the police cannot find the gun probably because his bodyguards disposed of it due to the fact that if Suge is found with a firearm, he violates parole and is back to being Big Earl's "Go Bitch" in the joint... BUT if the police do discover that he shot himself in the leg, can they just shoot him to spare us the inevitable and to keep him out of the news? I love you Suge, really, but can he stop fucken up the program? (I had to say that last line so that I would not be killed by Suge.)
Second, the party at which he was shot hosted by Kanye West, apparently, did not have anyone searching for weapons at the door. Just so I am clear, if I throw a party and invite Suge Knight, I am searching for guns, knifes, string, and anything else that could be used to kill another human being.
To hammer home how crazy this lack of security is... in New Orleans this weekend, officials were searching the people seeking shelter from Hurricane Katrina in the Superdome for drugs and weapons. These people were trying to avoid death in a horrific storm and were being searched... But in Miami, at a party that has Suge Knight in attendance, who is the individual blamed for starting the East Coast versus West Coast rap war, there is no such search requirement.... good hustle fellas.
Now onto the complaints, first and foremost and for the record (Note: As an attorney, I am always making a record.), Monday is the bastard child of the work week as no matter how you try to sugarcoat it, Monday's absolutely fucken blow. This is because on Mondays, people show up exhibiting some form of exhaustion and/or withdrawal from the weekend's festivities. As a result, I propose that it be mandatory that no work can start before 10 AM on Mondays in order to ease the work force into the work week.
Additionally, it will get rid of all the Monday morning peppy people, who are constantly filling Monday mornings with white noise as they feel the need to announce to the office the events oft heir weekend, which is always the craziest and BEST WEEKEND OF ALL TIME. If we push the day back,however, these people will already have shot their peppy load come ten o'clock in the morning by talking to themselves. Thus, us non-peppy people will not have to listen to their bull shit as we try to figure out how we got to work in the first place and why we didn't just call in sick. Further, this will lessen the chance that I will end up curb stomping someone at 9 in the morning. It's for the greater good here people because I do not need to kill anyone, atleast not right now.
Now, if we are not going to make the work week start later on Monday mornings, then I propose that no one is allowed to spea until 10 AM on Mondays. In this way, we will eliminate all of the "how was your weekend" and "how are you feeling" bull shit conversations that pervade our Mondays. I too am guilty of asking these questions, but I ask as a matter of habit and not because I really care about the fact that you spent the weekend in some shit hole of a bar in Hoboken, hooking up with some fattie, and were SO WASTED... In reality, while you are talking, I am thinking about what websites I have not looked at yet this morning, writing this entry, and if friend X, e-mailed me yet today about the Sox game last night. I would say eliminate Mondays from the work week entirely but really Tuesdays would then be just as bad as Mondays, and thus, we would just have to adopt the above suggestions for Tuesday mornings.
One final thought on this topic, if you get the chance, watch how the chippy peppy fuckers are always the people, who by Wednesday, are having a mental breakdown about how much work they have and are totally burned out on the week. Their existence is basically an exercise in futility as they prove to be essentially worthless to the overall productivity of the office due to the fact that they are productive at the one time that no one else is i.e. Monday mornings and then, fall off the wagon by the time the rest of the office picks up steam i.e. 11 Am to 1 PM on Wednesdays... As a result, I am not sure what we should do with these individuals, but one idea is the public execution of a select few of them in order to make an example of them to the remainder of Peppy Nation... (I am not crazy people, I just need help.)
Next up, humidity... I go to Vegas every year because I love wickedly hot temperatures. I like to sit in the sun in order to sweat and bake. What I cannot stand is humidity... And I am not talking about normal humidity rather I am talking about the "seventh circle of hell" humidity that exists in New York City during the summer. As I wrote about on Saturday, this past weekend, it appeared that humidity had finally released us from its evil grasp for the summer as there was a pleasant breeze and nothing to make my boxers stick to my balls for an entire afternoon. In reality, humidity was just fucking with us as it promptly reentered the picture Saturday evening while I was at an 80's party in Jersey City. (I know all parties in Jersey are 80's Parties, easy guys...) Slowly but surely, humidity took over Saturday evening and by the time I woke on Sunday, it was in full effect ready to ruin three to four of my t-shirts and multiple pairs of boxers... (I am a sweater, I sweat)...
The worst part about the humidity in the City is the apparent alliance it has formed with the subway stations. The subway stations, which already smell like dead rat, garbage, and piss, reach new levels of funk when they are combined with 100+ degree temperatures and 300% humidity. It is really hard to explain what the actual feeling is when you enter a subway station, but I assure you that if you are not expecting that first blast of heat and stench when you descend those fateful stairs, it will take your breath away meaning that when you enter one of these bad boys, you quickly realized that you are actually feeling the fires of hell firsthand topped off with a mugginess that causes immediate liquification of the skin along with a wicked case of swamp ass.
The humidity/subway station axis of evil makes the whole wearing a suit to work thing that much more uncomfortable to the point that the last thing that I make sure that I have before I walk out the door is a fat kid towel to wipe myself down after the walk to the subway. Couple these conditions with my lack of hair and by the time, I get to the platform, I have sweat dripping down my face, back, butt, and balls. It is a sad state of affairs being a fat kid playing the role of an attorney during the summer in New York City. (Actually, I think that is a new Kevin Smith film or atleast something he has in the works starring Ben Affleck.)
Finally, I have said this to a bunch of friends over the last couple of days and thus will make short order of my third and final complaint for the evening. I cannot stand car horns and how people in New York City feel the need to blast their horns whenever someone fails to get off the line the second the light turns green. Many complain about this daily occurrence for the simple reason of WHAT GOOD DOES IT DO, besides making that person angry, you angry, and passerby's angry. It certainly does not make traffic move quicker. I argue that it creates more traffic because once that horn goes off, everyone usually stops to figure out who is honking and who they are honking at.
So I have a simple proposal to correct this over zealous abuse of the car horn, each car should be equipped with a sensor that detects unnecessary usage of the horn. Once the car senses this usage, it would initiate a self-detonating device that would essentially blow up anyone in the car while not affecting anyone on the outside of the car or the car itself. As a result, we eliminate the problem without hurting anyone else. Sure it means that someone is dead but that is one less car horn abuser to worry about and that is the goal, right?
So those are the complaints and since it's Tuesday morning, I should hit it... I have more things to complain about like how the Yankees have clearly made a deal with the devil this summer and are thus making their requisite push to the playoffs... or how my job sucks so bad that I may actively attempt to get fired... But those are for another day...
For the record (there it is again), I wrote this entire thing in the nude while listening to Bruce Springsteen's Greatest Hits... I think that's a hookup in Jersey...
Take it in the ass...
R.D.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Bring On The Work Week
Quick and dirty that is what I am laying down tonight... Today had to be one of the more productive Sundays, I have had in a very long time. I woke up and got some brunch with a couple of close amigos... One of the said amigos gave me a couple of books to read about writing and stuff like that... I am not trying to take myself too seriously when it comes to this writing thing because it is very much about allowing myself to be creative which I do not get to do at my job and to simply vent when I need to. At the same time, I think that no matter what the purpose is, I can always get better at this thing called writing. Moreover, I am interested in reading what others have to say about that goal. So, I will read the books and then see where I end up... Maybe right back here... maybe not... Whatever man.... WHATEVER.
In other news, I added a quote feature to the side bar of the blog... The one that is there right now is from Zoolander. It's long and slightly confusing, but I am sure you guys can wrap your minds around it. But if not, go down to your local high school and ask someone about the movie, the quote, the context, etc. Hopefully, you will get the answer before the police escort you off the property. Actually, this would be a great time to transition into my take on R. Kelly's performance to night at the VMA's, but I will let his "juvenile pissing on" ass be spared for another couple of paragraphs.
Another big part of the day was spent watching various sporting events on the TV including the Sox game, the Buick Open, and the Little League World Series... The recap goes like: the Sox won.... Faxon won the Buick Open in a playoff hole where each golfer had an amazing second shot onto the green during the playoff... and Hawaii won the Little League World Series on a walkoff homer in the first extra inning game since 1971... It was a surprisingly solid day in sports...
Oh and in case you have not heard, there is a hurricane coming that is going to smack the taste out of New Orleans sometime tonight or tomorrow. Apparently, this hurricane is a dirty Russian stripper of a hurricane because I believe they named her Katrina? Now, I feel bad for people in New Orleans and the other soon to be destroyed locations. I also feel bad for myself since I never made it to New Orleans before it was washed out to sea. I KID I KID... I am not trying to sound insensitive, but I am currently at the point of Hurricane Coverage Saturation as the news outlets like they always do, have decided to go into the END OF THE WORLD coverage mode. As a result, I cannot watch TV without being told about this hurricane. It was mentioned on ESPN, on the VMA's, and I am sure that Fox probably worked it into Family Guy just to make sure the viewers were kept informed. Of course, I have a problem with this, mainly because the only people that now need to know about the damn storm are those people in that area, who should have evacuated at this point AND NOT BE WATCHING FUCKEN TV....
Other things on TV tonight included Entourage, the HBO hit series (I wish I got paid to say that), which decided that every storyline that has been cultivated this season needed to be turned on its head in order to set us up for what should be a pretty amazing season finale. I am not sure what is going to happen but I like the "Jeremy Piven i.e. Ari firing" angle alot. They did not make it too much like Jerry Macguire, which would have been awful, and at the same time, the writers have provided Piven's character with the ability to now be completely insane. I mean he was insane before, but now he can explore his character as an unemployed and desperate individual. I mean he has no safety net anymore.
Also, the Video Music Awards were on tonight, live from Miami, with Diddy as the host. Sadly, I realized while watching this fiasco that I no longer am a part of the current MTV Generation. I will be turning my union card in tomorrow morning. I apologize to the union, but I cannot be your soldier anymore. Tonight's show which I caught bits and pieces of was some of the most over-produced piles of garbage that I have ever seen. This has been the trend in recent years with this show as MTV, which last showed a video in 1989 (yeah that is a cheap shot), tries to over entertain every chance they get. As a result, everything comes off very flat and unoriginal.
The music performances were awful with Green Day and The Killers performing songs that they have already performed live on multiple awards shows. Why not explore the other songs on their current albums, which if you do not own, you need to go out and buy immediately as there is not a bad song on either album. There was also an unnecessary retro performance by Hammer, which solidified the fact that his career is as dead as... let's go with... The Dave Chapelle Show and Mariah Carey's chest... As well, R. Kelly decided to grace us with a lip synch performance during which, I think. he acted out the ending to his recent music video drama that he has been working on... I was begging for him to urinate... But seriously, here is my question, whatever happened with the whole news story and the subsequent investigation about R. Kelly and his great urination escapade? I mean there was video tape and she was underage.... did this just go away? Was she paid off? How does he still have a career and how is he different than Michael Jackson right now? Is it because he did that song for Space Jam?
Sadly, Kanye West and My Chemical Romance, who each had exceptional performances, could not save this show... MTV should stick to acts like this and do away with disasters like Mariah Carey, Ludaris, Fall Out Boy (worst band I have ever seen), and whatever other shit they threw at me tonight...
Finally, Diddy used the entire evening to self-promote the shit out of himself... I am not his biggest fan, but I do find him to be slightly amusing only because he takes himself way too seriously. But was it necessary to bring out another post-mortem Biggie performance tonight? And was that planned before or after Suge Knight got shot last night? Further, is anyone surprised that Suge Knight got shot last night? Here in New York, the news is covering it like the beginning of another coastal rap war. Suge Knight has lived about ten years too long at this point, and I am sure this will not be the last time that he will be shot. I am not advocating this course of action only stating the simple fact that he has more than his share of enemies.
Further, who cares if this is another coastal rap war? Will anything actually happen or will there just be alot of talk about it for the next couple of months? At this point, they might as well make the entire thing into a one night only series of street fights on Pay Per View... I would pay to watch it...
I guess for now that is all that I got. 14 days off the sauce and counting... Although listening to Kurt Loder and John Norris recap the evening at the VMA's makes me want to down the bottle of Jack in my freezer... THANK GOD THEY ARE NOW REPLAYING THIS SHIT... Off to tear out my eyeballs and cut off my ears...
Good night.
In other news, I added a quote feature to the side bar of the blog... The one that is there right now is from Zoolander. It's long and slightly confusing, but I am sure you guys can wrap your minds around it. But if not, go down to your local high school and ask someone about the movie, the quote, the context, etc. Hopefully, you will get the answer before the police escort you off the property. Actually, this would be a great time to transition into my take on R. Kelly's performance to night at the VMA's, but I will let his "juvenile pissing on" ass be spared for another couple of paragraphs.
Another big part of the day was spent watching various sporting events on the TV including the Sox game, the Buick Open, and the Little League World Series... The recap goes like: the Sox won.... Faxon won the Buick Open in a playoff hole where each golfer had an amazing second shot onto the green during the playoff... and Hawaii won the Little League World Series on a walkoff homer in the first extra inning game since 1971... It was a surprisingly solid day in sports...
Oh and in case you have not heard, there is a hurricane coming that is going to smack the taste out of New Orleans sometime tonight or tomorrow. Apparently, this hurricane is a dirty Russian stripper of a hurricane because I believe they named her Katrina? Now, I feel bad for people in New Orleans and the other soon to be destroyed locations. I also feel bad for myself since I never made it to New Orleans before it was washed out to sea. I KID I KID... I am not trying to sound insensitive, but I am currently at the point of Hurricane Coverage Saturation as the news outlets like they always do, have decided to go into the END OF THE WORLD coverage mode. As a result, I cannot watch TV without being told about this hurricane. It was mentioned on ESPN, on the VMA's, and I am sure that Fox probably worked it into Family Guy just to make sure the viewers were kept informed. Of course, I have a problem with this, mainly because the only people that now need to know about the damn storm are those people in that area, who should have evacuated at this point AND NOT BE WATCHING FUCKEN TV....
Other things on TV tonight included Entourage, the HBO hit series (I wish I got paid to say that), which decided that every storyline that has been cultivated this season needed to be turned on its head in order to set us up for what should be a pretty amazing season finale. I am not sure what is going to happen but I like the "Jeremy Piven i.e. Ari firing" angle alot. They did not make it too much like Jerry Macguire, which would have been awful, and at the same time, the writers have provided Piven's character with the ability to now be completely insane. I mean he was insane before, but now he can explore his character as an unemployed and desperate individual. I mean he has no safety net anymore.
Also, the Video Music Awards were on tonight, live from Miami, with Diddy as the host. Sadly, I realized while watching this fiasco that I no longer am a part of the current MTV Generation. I will be turning my union card in tomorrow morning. I apologize to the union, but I cannot be your soldier anymore. Tonight's show which I caught bits and pieces of was some of the most over-produced piles of garbage that I have ever seen. This has been the trend in recent years with this show as MTV, which last showed a video in 1989 (yeah that is a cheap shot), tries to over entertain every chance they get. As a result, everything comes off very flat and unoriginal.
The music performances were awful with Green Day and The Killers performing songs that they have already performed live on multiple awards shows. Why not explore the other songs on their current albums, which if you do not own, you need to go out and buy immediately as there is not a bad song on either album. There was also an unnecessary retro performance by Hammer, which solidified the fact that his career is as dead as... let's go with... The Dave Chapelle Show and Mariah Carey's chest... As well, R. Kelly decided to grace us with a lip synch performance during which, I think. he acted out the ending to his recent music video drama that he has been working on... I was begging for him to urinate... But seriously, here is my question, whatever happened with the whole news story and the subsequent investigation about R. Kelly and his great urination escapade? I mean there was video tape and she was underage.... did this just go away? Was she paid off? How does he still have a career and how is he different than Michael Jackson right now? Is it because he did that song for Space Jam?
Sadly, Kanye West and My Chemical Romance, who each had exceptional performances, could not save this show... MTV should stick to acts like this and do away with disasters like Mariah Carey, Ludaris, Fall Out Boy (worst band I have ever seen), and whatever other shit they threw at me tonight...
Finally, Diddy used the entire evening to self-promote the shit out of himself... I am not his biggest fan, but I do find him to be slightly amusing only because he takes himself way too seriously. But was it necessary to bring out another post-mortem Biggie performance tonight? And was that planned before or after Suge Knight got shot last night? Further, is anyone surprised that Suge Knight got shot last night? Here in New York, the news is covering it like the beginning of another coastal rap war. Suge Knight has lived about ten years too long at this point, and I am sure this will not be the last time that he will be shot. I am not advocating this course of action only stating the simple fact that he has more than his share of enemies.
Further, who cares if this is another coastal rap war? Will anything actually happen or will there just be alot of talk about it for the next couple of months? At this point, they might as well make the entire thing into a one night only series of street fights on Pay Per View... I would pay to watch it...
I guess for now that is all that I got. 14 days off the sauce and counting... Although listening to Kurt Loder and John Norris recap the evening at the VMA's makes me want to down the bottle of Jack in my freezer... THANK GOD THEY ARE NOW REPLAYING THIS SHIT... Off to tear out my eyeballs and cut off my ears...
Good night.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Word Verification
For those of you who comment, which I totally appreciate, I have just added a new blogspot.com feature called word verification, which basically requires the typing of a word in before you can post your comment. The purpose of this function is to eliminate automated spammers, which I hate. Please continue to post comments even with this minor inconvenience.
Thanks.
R.D.
Thanks.
R.D.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Eternal Sadness
My grandfather died just before I finished my second year of law school. I remember getting the message from my mother when I was in Virginia playing in a softball tournament. There I was hundreds of miles away crying in a hotel room thinking about how badly I wanted to be in Connecticut at the time. My grandfather was a truly great man, who always laughed and taught me a lot about being a solid human being.
Death came to him quickly as he had been diagnosed with cancer the year before and sadly, his health faded thereafter. I remember that phone call as well because it was the night after my last exam as a 1L when my sister called saying that Grandpa had cancer. I did not realize the severity at the time. As time progressed, however, it became very apparent that no treatment could save him, and it was just a matter of time. Complicating matters was the fact that right before I went to law school while I was rowing in Great Britain, my grandmother, his wife, had a severe stroke that to this day has left her in a nursing home. Until the end, my grandfather spent all of his time visiting her daily and as a result, exhausting himself to the point that I often wonder if he weakened his body allowing the cancer to infest it.
It was a weird experience because my whole family was very sad when the end came, but at the same time, when you watch someone suffer like that right before your eyes, all you really want is for the end to come so that the pain can be no more. Sadly, my grandmother never really knew that he was sick because my grandfather never told her since he wanted to appear strong for her and to be there for her as he had been his entire life. Moreover, making the whole thing more tragic is that my grandmother's mind has been so affected by the stroke that she does not truly comprehend the passage of time. As a result, it appears that she lives each day thinking that my grandfather has not been gone for almost five years now. Instead, the memory remains fresh in her mind. (I do not know if this is actually true or a defense mechanism to never forget about him. The truth probably lies somewhere in between)... This makes the entire grieving process for her that much more difficult as she still cries on a daily basis. (I think she would do this anyway)
I thought about all of this today for the first time in a long time as a result of something that happened to me when I actually left the house for a brief couple of minutes to go and buy a toothbrush. While, I was at the drugstore where I bought said toothbrush, there was an old woman there, who was rambling on with the clerk about a variety of subjects. When I approached the counter, he gave me a look of do not mind her as he proceeded to ring up my purchases.
At this point, I said something to the effect of, "Man, she really likes to talk..." (Note: she had walked to the back of the store at this point) In response, he explained to me that she was there everyday sometimes before the store would open. Then, he hit me with the knee buckler as he told me that recently her husband had passed away, and suddenly, I understood why she was there each day...
Like my grandmother, she now finds herself alone without the person that she had vowed to remain with until death do us part. I guarantee that although she made this solemn vow she never truly comtemplated that one day, she would find herself alone without the love of her life. And now, she simply wanted someone to talk to so that she could do something else in order to get away from her internal sadness. I cannot fathom what it must be like to come home to an empty house and an empty bed where the person you shared decades of your existence with used to be and then, have to deal with this on a daily basis... And then again, I think that you must try and remember all the good times you had and maybe when you find some clarity, you take some solice in the fact that you had the opportunity to share those moments with that person... It all is just very sad to me.
I am not sure if any of what I just wrote has a point nor do I want to wrap it up into a neat little life lesson for you to carry forth after you read this entry... I guess I just needed to write about it since I cried today missing my grandfather for the first time in a very long time while simultaneously wishing that I could see my grandmother right now in order to give her a great big hug...
Death came to him quickly as he had been diagnosed with cancer the year before and sadly, his health faded thereafter. I remember that phone call as well because it was the night after my last exam as a 1L when my sister called saying that Grandpa had cancer. I did not realize the severity at the time. As time progressed, however, it became very apparent that no treatment could save him, and it was just a matter of time. Complicating matters was the fact that right before I went to law school while I was rowing in Great Britain, my grandmother, his wife, had a severe stroke that to this day has left her in a nursing home. Until the end, my grandfather spent all of his time visiting her daily and as a result, exhausting himself to the point that I often wonder if he weakened his body allowing the cancer to infest it.
It was a weird experience because my whole family was very sad when the end came, but at the same time, when you watch someone suffer like that right before your eyes, all you really want is for the end to come so that the pain can be no more. Sadly, my grandmother never really knew that he was sick because my grandfather never told her since he wanted to appear strong for her and to be there for her as he had been his entire life. Moreover, making the whole thing more tragic is that my grandmother's mind has been so affected by the stroke that she does not truly comprehend the passage of time. As a result, it appears that she lives each day thinking that my grandfather has not been gone for almost five years now. Instead, the memory remains fresh in her mind. (I do not know if this is actually true or a defense mechanism to never forget about him. The truth probably lies somewhere in between)... This makes the entire grieving process for her that much more difficult as she still cries on a daily basis. (I think she would do this anyway)
I thought about all of this today for the first time in a long time as a result of something that happened to me when I actually left the house for a brief couple of minutes to go and buy a toothbrush. While, I was at the drugstore where I bought said toothbrush, there was an old woman there, who was rambling on with the clerk about a variety of subjects. When I approached the counter, he gave me a look of do not mind her as he proceeded to ring up my purchases.
At this point, I said something to the effect of, "Man, she really likes to talk..." (Note: she had walked to the back of the store at this point) In response, he explained to me that she was there everyday sometimes before the store would open. Then, he hit me with the knee buckler as he told me that recently her husband had passed away, and suddenly, I understood why she was there each day...
Like my grandmother, she now finds herself alone without the person that she had vowed to remain with until death do us part. I guarantee that although she made this solemn vow she never truly comtemplated that one day, she would find herself alone without the love of her life. And now, she simply wanted someone to talk to so that she could do something else in order to get away from her internal sadness. I cannot fathom what it must be like to come home to an empty house and an empty bed where the person you shared decades of your existence with used to be and then, have to deal with this on a daily basis... And then again, I think that you must try and remember all the good times you had and maybe when you find some clarity, you take some solice in the fact that you had the opportunity to share those moments with that person... It all is just very sad to me.
I am not sure if any of what I just wrote has a point nor do I want to wrap it up into a neat little life lesson for you to carry forth after you read this entry... I guess I just needed to write about it since I cried today missing my grandfather for the first time in a very long time while simultaneously wishing that I could see my grandmother right now in order to give her a great big hug...
Assessing the Quest (Day 13)
Today is a beautiful Saturday in New York City. There is a crisp wind cooling everything down, but enough sun to allow New Yorkers to wear shorts and a t-shirt. Of course with weather like this, I find myself inside thinking and writing. And the funny thing is, I could not be happier right now. I mean almost two weeks ago, I decided to take a step back and gain some perspective about my life. And so far, I cannot believe that I spent so many of the last couple of years living it the way that I did.
Now, I do not want to overstate this life change and thus trivialize anything that I did in the past because I do not regret a single thing that I have done in my life up until this point. I truly believe you have to live your life in order to figure out your life. As well, for most of the past couple of months/years, I have had a pretty solid grasp on my life as it was not until just recently that things got wickedly out of control. Also, I do not want to continue to harp on this issue and constantly correlate not drinking or whatever to my new found take on things. It certainly has something to do with it, but there are many other factors including the fact that I also stopped being a self-loathing son of a bitch... (It could also do with the fact that I just sniffed glue... that was a joke people)
Additionally, I do not want to become one of those "high and mighty" types who frowns upon people that live their lives differently than I do now or constantly preaches about sobriety as the answer to the meaning of life and/or the Secret of Nimh. I will never do that because people find happiness and are comfortable in their own skins through their own paths in life and I find it to be the definition of hypocrisy for another human being to tell someone else how to live their lives... That is why I cannot stand Born Again Christians, but that is another story for a different day...
Moreover, there is nothing wrong with a little indulgence as long as it is not the only thing that you live for. In my case, it was quickly becoming the only thing that I lived for as I began to planning my daily life around being able to drink five to six beers each evening. I remember sitting at work thinking about getting home as soon as I could so that I could go to the store and get something to drink. While running, I would think about how quickly I could get back to the house so that I could crack that first beer.... I am not kidding! This is all I wanted to do. It got to the point where I would experience withdrawal/anxiety about drinking to the point where I could not sit still, and my heart would simply pound like it wanted out of my chest.. And that is what scared me about all of this... I mean I love a good beer, but I should not need a good beer in order to live a normal life...
Further, I am sorry to those close to me that I never truly discussed this issue with and thus kept you in the dark. You know exactly who you are and I wish I had handled it all very differently. But I truly was in denial about my own reality, and there is nothing I could have done about that state of my existence. Just remember that without you, I would never have figured this out and I will be forever grateful for that...
Finally, I am not unfurling some banner and declaring Mission Accomplished just yet. (I know I used that as the title for one of my entries, but that was just for making it through the weekend.) I am on a very strange ride right now, one that I will continue to struggle with, learn from, and work on each day... and I am truly uncertain as to where at the end of the day, I will end up....
But for now, I am happy... and that is all I ever really wanted...
Now, I do not want to overstate this life change and thus trivialize anything that I did in the past because I do not regret a single thing that I have done in my life up until this point. I truly believe you have to live your life in order to figure out your life. As well, for most of the past couple of months/years, I have had a pretty solid grasp on my life as it was not until just recently that things got wickedly out of control. Also, I do not want to continue to harp on this issue and constantly correlate not drinking or whatever to my new found take on things. It certainly has something to do with it, but there are many other factors including the fact that I also stopped being a self-loathing son of a bitch... (It could also do with the fact that I just sniffed glue... that was a joke people)
Additionally, I do not want to become one of those "high and mighty" types who frowns upon people that live their lives differently than I do now or constantly preaches about sobriety as the answer to the meaning of life and/or the Secret of Nimh. I will never do that because people find happiness and are comfortable in their own skins through their own paths in life and I find it to be the definition of hypocrisy for another human being to tell someone else how to live their lives... That is why I cannot stand Born Again Christians, but that is another story for a different day...
Moreover, there is nothing wrong with a little indulgence as long as it is not the only thing that you live for. In my case, it was quickly becoming the only thing that I lived for as I began to planning my daily life around being able to drink five to six beers each evening. I remember sitting at work thinking about getting home as soon as I could so that I could go to the store and get something to drink. While running, I would think about how quickly I could get back to the house so that I could crack that first beer.... I am not kidding! This is all I wanted to do. It got to the point where I would experience withdrawal/anxiety about drinking to the point where I could not sit still, and my heart would simply pound like it wanted out of my chest.. And that is what scared me about all of this... I mean I love a good beer, but I should not need a good beer in order to live a normal life...
Further, I am sorry to those close to me that I never truly discussed this issue with and thus kept you in the dark. You know exactly who you are and I wish I had handled it all very differently. But I truly was in denial about my own reality, and there is nothing I could have done about that state of my existence. Just remember that without you, I would never have figured this out and I will be forever grateful for that...
Finally, I am not unfurling some banner and declaring Mission Accomplished just yet. (I know I used that as the title for one of my entries, but that was just for making it through the weekend.) I am on a very strange ride right now, one that I will continue to struggle with, learn from, and work on each day... and I am truly uncertain as to where at the end of the day, I will end up....
But for now, I am happy... and that is all I ever really wanted...
Taking One On The Chin
A quick follow-up on the softball game from Friday night, we lost. My team this year has exhibited moments of offensive brilliance in one game and then moments of offensive inability in the next game. Last night was one of those moments of offensive inability as we could not get anything going. Couple this fact with an opponent who was more than proficient behind the plate, and we never stood a chance. I really wanted to win, but I can honestly say that we lost to a far better team who outplayed us in every facet of the game. I tip my hat to those guys.
And to my team, I thank them for a great season. It was nice to be part of a team again, and I had a shit load of fun. Respect.
And to my team, I thank them for a great season. It was nice to be part of a team again, and I had a shit load of fun. Respect.
The Agency America Really Needs
My buddy, Bob Jingle, appears to be threatened by my current posting frequency, or maybe, he is just jealous and has blogger envy. For the record, this is not the first time in our lives that he has wanted to be as cool as me... I mean I remember when we were little, and I used to kick his ass at basketball... He would always cry and run home... Oh wait, that was me....dammit... Whatever the case maybe, I did not want to disappoint him and fail to post....
So today, I take on a crisis that has gripped our society and warrants national attention....
I was in my favorite store today, DU-ON Re-DAY, when I realized that George W. Bush is really missing the boat with his focus on the war on terror. Now, I know what you are thinking, HERE WE GO AGAIN with another "anti-Bush, Iraq is wrong" rant... and while, I would love at some point to address a foreign policy that is shamefully disguised as a type of "What Would Jesus Do" quest for the betterment of the World in order to mask the true motives of hubris, greed, and manipulation, I believe that there is a bigger problem that faces America on a daily basis that President Bush seems oblvious to... Shocking I know...This is a problem that I hinted at in my Rooster piece but failed to properly flesh out... And that is why I am now writing and asking that President Bush immediately create, "The Department for the Control, Limitation, and Containment of Holiday Decoration, Sales, and Promotion" or DCLCHDSP for short.
I mean why in God's name is Duane Reade selling Halloween shit in the middle of August? Are they concerned that October 31st is going to sneak up on people? Is there suddenly going to be an epidemic that erases the concept of time from the minds of all of mankind? Or do people need that much time to properly plan for holidays? Moreover, this marketing scam is not simply limited to Halloween because you know that as soon as we get near Halloween, Thanksgiving merchandise will come out, followed by Christmas stuff into New Year's, then Valentine's Day leading to Easter and then onto GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT OTHER HOLIDAY THEY ARE GOING TO FIND IN ORDER TO MAKE SURE THAT THE AMERICAN PUBLIC IS PREPARED JUST IN CASE THE CALENDAR SUDDENLY SKIPS AHEAD TWO FUCKEN MONTHS WITHOUT NOTICE...OR ALL THE STORES ARE CLOSED FOR FOUR WEEKS BEFORE THE ACTUAL HOLIDAY...
The sad truth of the matter is that the stores stock their shelves this prematurely because there is a market for this crap.... I mean these are holidays people, start thinking about them three weeks before if you need to because gearing up over two and half months before might just be a little too much preparation... (breath, it will be ok)...
And that is why government intervention is now necessary. We can no longer control ourselves. Instead, we are brainwashed into going out and preparing for holidays like we are stockpiling provisions before a great war... With government assistance, the stores will be forced to set a time period closer to the actual holiday dictating when it is acceptable to put out their holiday-themed wares... Thus, saving us from our own devices...
So President Bush, please forget your goals abroad and help your people at home fight against the farce that is the excessive whoring of our holidays by retailers... Create this new Department and liberate us from the our constant urge to buy every possible holiday themed item in order to make our next holiday perfect....
More importantly, help us El Presidente because right now, we have thirty-five pumpkins and seventy-five bags of candy that we have to figure out what to do with for the next two and half months...
So today, I take on a crisis that has gripped our society and warrants national attention....
I was in my favorite store today, DU-ON Re-DAY, when I realized that George W. Bush is really missing the boat with his focus on the war on terror. Now, I know what you are thinking, HERE WE GO AGAIN with another "anti-Bush, Iraq is wrong" rant... and while, I would love at some point to address a foreign policy that is shamefully disguised as a type of "What Would Jesus Do" quest for the betterment of the World in order to mask the true motives of hubris, greed, and manipulation, I believe that there is a bigger problem that faces America on a daily basis that President Bush seems oblvious to... Shocking I know...This is a problem that I hinted at in my Rooster piece but failed to properly flesh out... And that is why I am now writing and asking that President Bush immediately create, "The Department for the Control, Limitation, and Containment of Holiday Decoration, Sales, and Promotion" or DCLCHDSP for short.
I mean why in God's name is Duane Reade selling Halloween shit in the middle of August? Are they concerned that October 31st is going to sneak up on people? Is there suddenly going to be an epidemic that erases the concept of time from the minds of all of mankind? Or do people need that much time to properly plan for holidays? Moreover, this marketing scam is not simply limited to Halloween because you know that as soon as we get near Halloween, Thanksgiving merchandise will come out, followed by Christmas stuff into New Year's, then Valentine's Day leading to Easter and then onto GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT OTHER HOLIDAY THEY ARE GOING TO FIND IN ORDER TO MAKE SURE THAT THE AMERICAN PUBLIC IS PREPARED JUST IN CASE THE CALENDAR SUDDENLY SKIPS AHEAD TWO FUCKEN MONTHS WITHOUT NOTICE...OR ALL THE STORES ARE CLOSED FOR FOUR WEEKS BEFORE THE ACTUAL HOLIDAY...
The sad truth of the matter is that the stores stock their shelves this prematurely because there is a market for this crap.... I mean these are holidays people, start thinking about them three weeks before if you need to because gearing up over two and half months before might just be a little too much preparation... (breath, it will be ok)...
And that is why government intervention is now necessary. We can no longer control ourselves. Instead, we are brainwashed into going out and preparing for holidays like we are stockpiling provisions before a great war... With government assistance, the stores will be forced to set a time period closer to the actual holiday dictating when it is acceptable to put out their holiday-themed wares... Thus, saving us from our own devices...
So President Bush, please forget your goals abroad and help your people at home fight against the farce that is the excessive whoring of our holidays by retailers... Create this new Department and liberate us from the our constant urge to buy every possible holiday themed item in order to make our next holiday perfect....
More importantly, help us El Presidente because right now, we have thirty-five pumpkins and seventy-five bags of candy that we have to figure out what to do with for the next two and half months...
Friday, August 26, 2005
WHAT TIME IS IT....
GAME TIME.... MOTHER FUCKERS!!!
The semi-final game for my softball team is tomorrow night. Winner goes on to the championship game and gets the chance to win a ridiculously big trophy. While the loser, LOSES... duh...
As trivial as it may sound, I want the damn trophy. As I get older, stupid shit like trophies start to mean something to me as I strain to grasp that last breath of my athletic prowess. Granted, I am not old, and I will run forever... But the sports that require coordination are always the first to go... So tomorrow night, I will (insert sports cliche here) "leave it all on the field"... and by doing so become a No Fear T-shirt... because
SECOND PLACE IS FIRST LOSER!!!
and
HE WHO DIES WITH THE MOST TOYS STILL DIES...
(I always hated those shirts, but let me have my testosterone moment)
And just so it's clear, the game face is on....
The semi-final game for my softball team is tomorrow night. Winner goes on to the championship game and gets the chance to win a ridiculously big trophy. While the loser, LOSES... duh...
As trivial as it may sound, I want the damn trophy. As I get older, stupid shit like trophies start to mean something to me as I strain to grasp that last breath of my athletic prowess. Granted, I am not old, and I will run forever... But the sports that require coordination are always the first to go... So tomorrow night, I will (insert sports cliche here) "leave it all on the field"... and by doing so become a No Fear T-shirt... because
SECOND PLACE IS FIRST LOSER!!!
and
HE WHO DIES WITH THE MOST TOYS STILL DIES...
(I always hated those shirts, but let me have my testosterone moment)
And just so it's clear, the game face is on....
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Golf Outing Part Deux
I played in another golf outing today and shot a less than acceptable 109. The course was Dyker Heights in Bayridge, Brooklyn, New York and was in unbelievable shape. Here is a view of the Verrazzano Narrows Bridge, which looms over the course providing amazing photo opportunities like these...
My front nine was decent as I shot a 48 and had two pars. I really was locked in and hit the ball solidly everytime. After the turn, however, I got a case of the yips and basically could not buy a shot closing with a 61. Golf has to be the most humbling sport that I have ever tried in my life, and I cannot even fathom how the pros hit the ball the way that they do with thousands of people watching and hundreds of thousands of dollars on the line... And then, there are guys like Tiger, who are able to dominate their peers almost everytime they compete... It's mind blowing, really...
Finally, here is a picture of my swing. It has to be one of the most brutal golf swings in the history of the game, but I swear to you that I hit the ball straight no matter what and off the tee I am lethal.... Of course, the remainder of my game leaves much to be desired....
And let's be honest, you're jealous.....
My front nine was decent as I shot a 48 and had two pars. I really was locked in and hit the ball solidly everytime. After the turn, however, I got a case of the yips and basically could not buy a shot closing with a 61. Golf has to be the most humbling sport that I have ever tried in my life, and I cannot even fathom how the pros hit the ball the way that they do with thousands of people watching and hundreds of thousands of dollars on the line... And then, there are guys like Tiger, who are able to dominate their peers almost everytime they compete... It's mind blowing, really...
Finally, here is a picture of my swing. It has to be one of the most brutal golf swings in the history of the game, but I swear to you that I hit the ball straight no matter what and off the tee I am lethal.... Of course, the remainder of my game leaves much to be desired....
And let's be honest, you're jealous.....
Legend of the Rooster
So the other day two of my co-workers, who shall remain nameless, were searching the streets of Brooklyn Heights for anything to entertain them during their lunch break. During their adventures, they stumbled upon a Duane Reade, which is crazy since these establishments only exist on every corner in the City. Anyway, after entering the DU- ON Re-DAY as I pronounce it (similar to how people pronounce, Target, Tarjay), they found the most glorious object every created by man (ok maybe not but man this is pretty cool)... The Rooster!!! (pictured below)
Apparently, DU-ON Re-DAY has a fall fashion line, which contains all that the avid leaf watcher would need to decorate their studio apartment in preparation for the upcoming months of autumn. Although, I do not know the extent of this line, I am willing to speculate that if they have the Rooster, I would imagine that they have covered all of their bases for this season i.e. pumpkins, fake leaves, fake cornstalks, scarecrows, and fake candy apples with razor blades in them. The point of the matter is that my co-workers purchased one of these fine specimen and brought the little fella back to the office where he spent the day scaring other workers who entered said co-worker's office not expecting to see the Rooster.
Now, originally, I did not own a Rooster. Instead, I was left only to admire the Rooster from afar, secretly wanting him for my own, but keeping this desire to myself. That was until one day on the way to lunch, I decided to pull one of my usual moody bitch outbursts, which was caused by a discussion about Canada of all places, leaving the two co-workers to eat by themselves and me to eat a enchilada all by my lonesome. As a result of this tantrum, my co-workers being the kind folk that they are purchased a Rooster for me in order to tell me to buck up and get over myself.
Now, instead of being upset, I was filled with glee like a child on Christmas morning. In order to show my happiness, I brought the Rooster to our nightly office meeting that day displaying him to all of my co-workers. I also made certain that he was placed prominently in my office so that no matter who entered, the Rooster was in sight. Finally, I named the Rooster, Pedro.
But soon thereafter, it became apparent that all was not what it seemed in Roosterland because now that I owned the Rooster, he would not leave me alone. He was always staring at me with those beady little eyes while I attempted to perform my daily tasks, silently judging demonstrating marked dissaproval of my actions. Moreover, when I would have to prepare witnesses for depositions, he would make them feel uneasy as the witnesses often complained that they felt like he was silently telling them that he did not believe a word that they were telling me. Further, he took over my entire office causing me to feel very uncomfortable about the entire situation. In retrospect, I am not sure if the Rooster was such a good idea. I mean with the Rooster comes great responsibility.
Sadly, there is nothing that I can do. Who am I to send the Rooster out into the world unprepared for its many potential pitfalls and dangers? What kind of human being would I be? Needless to say, I cannot and will not do it, and as a result, I am left to coexist with the Rooster for the rest of eternity or until I throw his fake ass in the garbage.
Anyway, I documented what has happened ever since the Rooster entered my life so that you can understand the magnititude of his interruptions and his reign of terror.
Note: What you are about to see is not only troubling but quite frankly just plain wrong... WRONG I SAY... damn you Rooster...
First, here is the Rooster preventing me from doing any work. Now, although in this picture it may appear that he is actually doing my work, I assure you that the Rooster can neither read nor write. Once again, he is useless and disruptive.... and yet, clever...
Next, here is the Rooster sitting in the witness' chair. The problem here is that this is where the witness is supposed to sit. How can the witness sit in the chair if the Rooster is sitting there? Further, this chair is located directly in front of my desk so the Rooster can simply sit, stare, and judge all day long.
Here is where I put my foot down. A man goes to the bathroom, and then, he comes back to find the Rooster in his chair... Conclusion: The Rooster has no manners.
In the next couple of pictures, I am not clear as to what exactly the Rooster was doing. In the first one, it appears that he is challenging Bobblehead Jim Calhoun to a good old fashion fistfight..
And here, it appears that the paranoia has finally set in, and the Rooster is preparing to head out for battle. In the alternative, I am not sure where the football game was or what position he plays, but since he lacks arms, any type of catching or receiving position is clearly off the table.
Finally, the last three pictures, I will spare comment on, but for the following, the Rooster cannot operate a printer or a copier, and yes, we have a fake lawn ornament snowman in my office....
Not possible...
Impossible...
Poor Snowman...
Finally, a couple of notes about the above, I wrote the entire entry while I was stone cold sober so I have no one to blame but myself for what is written above. As a result, if you think it is dumb as shit, blame me.
If you do think it is dumb as shit, however, here is a suggestion, simply replace the word "Rooster" each time it is used above with the synonym for Rooster, "Cock," so hopefully, you and your 15 year old little brother will have an entire night of laughs...
Till tomorrow suckers!!!
Apparently, DU-ON Re-DAY has a fall fashion line, which contains all that the avid leaf watcher would need to decorate their studio apartment in preparation for the upcoming months of autumn. Although, I do not know the extent of this line, I am willing to speculate that if they have the Rooster, I would imagine that they have covered all of their bases for this season i.e. pumpkins, fake leaves, fake cornstalks, scarecrows, and fake candy apples with razor blades in them. The point of the matter is that my co-workers purchased one of these fine specimen and brought the little fella back to the office where he spent the day scaring other workers who entered said co-worker's office not expecting to see the Rooster.
Now, originally, I did not own a Rooster. Instead, I was left only to admire the Rooster from afar, secretly wanting him for my own, but keeping this desire to myself. That was until one day on the way to lunch, I decided to pull one of my usual moody bitch outbursts, which was caused by a discussion about Canada of all places, leaving the two co-workers to eat by themselves and me to eat a enchilada all by my lonesome. As a result of this tantrum, my co-workers being the kind folk that they are purchased a Rooster for me in order to tell me to buck up and get over myself.
Now, instead of being upset, I was filled with glee like a child on Christmas morning. In order to show my happiness, I brought the Rooster to our nightly office meeting that day displaying him to all of my co-workers. I also made certain that he was placed prominently in my office so that no matter who entered, the Rooster was in sight. Finally, I named the Rooster, Pedro.
But soon thereafter, it became apparent that all was not what it seemed in Roosterland because now that I owned the Rooster, he would not leave me alone. He was always staring at me with those beady little eyes while I attempted to perform my daily tasks, silently judging demonstrating marked dissaproval of my actions. Moreover, when I would have to prepare witnesses for depositions, he would make them feel uneasy as the witnesses often complained that they felt like he was silently telling them that he did not believe a word that they were telling me. Further, he took over my entire office causing me to feel very uncomfortable about the entire situation. In retrospect, I am not sure if the Rooster was such a good idea. I mean with the Rooster comes great responsibility.
Sadly, there is nothing that I can do. Who am I to send the Rooster out into the world unprepared for its many potential pitfalls and dangers? What kind of human being would I be? Needless to say, I cannot and will not do it, and as a result, I am left to coexist with the Rooster for the rest of eternity or until I throw his fake ass in the garbage.
Anyway, I documented what has happened ever since the Rooster entered my life so that you can understand the magnititude of his interruptions and his reign of terror.
Note: What you are about to see is not only troubling but quite frankly just plain wrong... WRONG I SAY... damn you Rooster...
First, here is the Rooster preventing me from doing any work. Now, although in this picture it may appear that he is actually doing my work, I assure you that the Rooster can neither read nor write. Once again, he is useless and disruptive.... and yet, clever...
Next, here is the Rooster sitting in the witness' chair. The problem here is that this is where the witness is supposed to sit. How can the witness sit in the chair if the Rooster is sitting there? Further, this chair is located directly in front of my desk so the Rooster can simply sit, stare, and judge all day long.
Here is where I put my foot down. A man goes to the bathroom, and then, he comes back to find the Rooster in his chair... Conclusion: The Rooster has no manners.
In the next couple of pictures, I am not clear as to what exactly the Rooster was doing. In the first one, it appears that he is challenging Bobblehead Jim Calhoun to a good old fashion fistfight..
And here, it appears that the paranoia has finally set in, and the Rooster is preparing to head out for battle. In the alternative, I am not sure where the football game was or what position he plays, but since he lacks arms, any type of catching or receiving position is clearly off the table.
Finally, the last three pictures, I will spare comment on, but for the following, the Rooster cannot operate a printer or a copier, and yes, we have a fake lawn ornament snowman in my office....
Not possible...
Impossible...
Poor Snowman...
Finally, a couple of notes about the above, I wrote the entire entry while I was stone cold sober so I have no one to blame but myself for what is written above. As a result, if you think it is dumb as shit, blame me.
If you do think it is dumb as shit, however, here is a suggestion, simply replace the word "Rooster" each time it is used above with the synonym for Rooster, "Cock," so hopefully, you and your 15 year old little brother will have an entire night of laughs...
Till tomorrow suckers!!!
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
I'M ALL IN
My buddies and I have recently developed a weekly tradition of playing a little hold'em each week. (that's poker people) The stakes are low, but the games are entertaining. We have even started to rock some sunglasses to make ourselves look the part. It truly is great time to get together and win each other's money albeit small change. I figured I would share some pictures from this week's game...
First, the players...
Dirty D-- he may not look like much, but his anger is only second to mine... He also has the crazy ability to win hands when he is down to his last chip....
Next, Crazy Legs Krodel-- although recently married, he has certainly not lost his edge. Plus, this player is wicked fucken smaht so you always think that he knows something that you do not.
Savage-- one can never read this player as he has a bit of a wild side. He is always willing to press his luck regardless of the potential downfall. Some may say this is stupidity talking, but in reality, it works out more than not for this fine card player.
Bob Jingle-- this cagey veteran of the felt plays his hands tight but not so tight that his opposition can ever get a good read on him. Often, he waits for his moment to strike like a cobra in the shadows.... (i am not sure what that last bit means, but I had to throw it out there...)
Finally, yours truly-- I play like a I live life in "true grip it and rip it" type fashion. Actually, I do not really have too much of astrategy going mostly on gut feeling or sometimes a read on what someone might have. Truly, in the end, I just seem to get lucky more often than not.
Tonight's big winners in the Farewell Crazy Legs Tournament were Mr. Jingle and myself, but next week is a brand new game and anybody can hit a hot streak... And thankfully, since we play exceptionally low stakes, everyone can afford to come back next week and play... Good game tonight fellas....
First, the players...
Dirty D-- he may not look like much, but his anger is only second to mine... He also has the crazy ability to win hands when he is down to his last chip....
Next, Crazy Legs Krodel-- although recently married, he has certainly not lost his edge. Plus, this player is wicked fucken smaht so you always think that he knows something that you do not.
Savage-- one can never read this player as he has a bit of a wild side. He is always willing to press his luck regardless of the potential downfall. Some may say this is stupidity talking, but in reality, it works out more than not for this fine card player.
Bob Jingle-- this cagey veteran of the felt plays his hands tight but not so tight that his opposition can ever get a good read on him. Often, he waits for his moment to strike like a cobra in the shadows.... (i am not sure what that last bit means, but I had to throw it out there...)
Finally, yours truly-- I play like a I live life in "true grip it and rip it" type fashion. Actually, I do not really have too much of astrategy going mostly on gut feeling or sometimes a read on what someone might have. Truly, in the end, I just seem to get lucky more often than not.
Tonight's big winners in the Farewell Crazy Legs Tournament were Mr. Jingle and myself, but next week is a brand new game and anybody can hit a hot streak... And thankfully, since we play exceptionally low stakes, everyone can afford to come back next week and play... Good game tonight fellas....
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Remember Me From High School
Ok seriously, I love writing entries, and I love the fact that people comment, but I cannot stand the fact that blogspot has been infiltrated by spammers. Mainly because I love reading the comments but hate when the comments are simply spammers. If anyone knows a way to prevent this please let me know or else I am going to have to look for a new host to satisfy my writing needs...
TO THE SPAMMERS, I don't care about your diet pills, easy loans, erection pills or even the fact that you have the best porn on the internet (mainly because I already know where that is)... So if you actually read the entry before you spam, which I highly doubt unless you are the dumbest spam company on the earth, PLEASE STOP!!!
On a lighter note, this reminds me of a fun game that my old roommate from college and I used to play when we were in college and then beyond... Basically, there used to be and still is a group of spam e-mails that are sent out with the subject heading listed above. These e-mails seem like they may be from an old friend trying to reconnect with their long lost buddy from high school, but in reality, when opened usually contain the following:
SEE HOT NAKED SLUTS... WHO INGEST TONS OF MAN SAUCE...
VISIT OUR SITE FOR THE HOTTEST BARELY LEGAL BABIES ON THE INTERNET!!!!
And thus there is no long lost friend... just another website with the hottest 37 year old women with pigtails and fake boobs...
Point being, my roommate and I used to forward these e-mails to each other whenever we would get them... We would alter the subjects slightly to get the other person to open the e-mail, just to watch their reaction to receiving another porn e-mail... and soon thereafter, hilarity would ensue...
So when you get a chance embrace this game of porn and deception... and who knows maybe you will actually find someone from your high school... who now works in the industry... which is really the gift that keeps on giving... or atleast a real reason to really reconnect with all of your old high school friends in order to dish about so and so, who now receives cleveland steamers for a living...
TO THE SPAMMERS, I don't care about your diet pills, easy loans, erection pills or even the fact that you have the best porn on the internet (mainly because I already know where that is)... So if you actually read the entry before you spam, which I highly doubt unless you are the dumbest spam company on the earth, PLEASE STOP!!!
On a lighter note, this reminds me of a fun game that my old roommate from college and I used to play when we were in college and then beyond... Basically, there used to be and still is a group of spam e-mails that are sent out with the subject heading listed above. These e-mails seem like they may be from an old friend trying to reconnect with their long lost buddy from high school, but in reality, when opened usually contain the following:
SEE HOT NAKED SLUTS... WHO INGEST TONS OF MAN SAUCE...
VISIT OUR SITE FOR THE HOTTEST BARELY LEGAL BABIES ON THE INTERNET!!!!
And thus there is no long lost friend... just another website with the hottest 37 year old women with pigtails and fake boobs...
Point being, my roommate and I used to forward these e-mails to each other whenever we would get them... We would alter the subjects slightly to get the other person to open the e-mail, just to watch their reaction to receiving another porn e-mail... and soon thereafter, hilarity would ensue...
So when you get a chance embrace this game of porn and deception... and who knows maybe you will actually find someone from your high school... who now works in the industry... which is really the gift that keeps on giving... or atleast a real reason to really reconnect with all of your old high school friends in order to dish about so and so, who now receives cleveland steamers for a living...
Foggy
So after a week of no drinking, etc. and trying to cleanse my body of all the impurities that have wreaked havoc on it for the past decade or so, I am now sick. To me, the fact that I am now sick is the height of irony. I mean here I am trying to do good for myself, and I am rewarded with a banging headache, head cold, and general discomfort. As a result, I took yesterday off from work so that I could "nip this thing in the bud." Instead, the cold has fought off this preemptive strike and gotten worse. Anyway, I promise that once my head clears, I will write something inspiring about my work and the rooster that currently lives in my office. (Trust me on this one, it is always a plus to have a good cock around. Yeah I said it, judge me!!! )
For now, here is what I look like in my present state...
And here is what I look like when I awoke this morning...
(Ok, neither of those pictures are how I look right now, but they are how I feel... kind of like I got run over by an 18 wheeler, and then, the driver of that 18 wheeler proceeded to bang my girlfriend while I watched in a semi-paralyzed state from my hospital bed... that's a bit extreme, but I hate being sick.)
For now, here is what I look like in my present state...
And here is what I look like when I awoke this morning...
(Ok, neither of those pictures are how I look right now, but they are how I feel... kind of like I got run over by an 18 wheeler, and then, the driver of that 18 wheeler proceeded to bang my girlfriend while I watched in a semi-paralyzed state from my hospital bed... that's a bit extreme, but I hate being sick.)
Monday, August 22, 2005
Mission Accomplished
I made it through the weekend free and clear. And right now, I would really like to write something whitty or atleast partially clever, but I was up at six this morning to catch a train to New Jersey for an all day golf outing to benefit my college crew team. As a result, I am wiped and must get some sleep. I will be clever in the morning. Well, maybe not but atleast I won't suck like I do right now.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
How Do You Remember
Ever since I moved to New York City, I have experienced some of the most amazing moments in my life. Unfortunately for most of that time, I had to rely on either my own personal memory or hope someone had a digital camera to capture these moments. Until today... I may not have had the money, but today, I bought a Sony Cyber-shot to capture the times I experience something and for those times I experience nothing at all... The key is that I will not have to remember these things on my own anymore... So without further ado, here are today's photos...
The first one was taken in Union Square. Clearly, some people are not happy with the war in Iraq including our friend the King pictured at the bottom of this page. Not sure what he was the king of, except for begging, which he did as soon as I took this picture. This picture is one of the many reasons that I love New York City. I mean the King is clearly a strange fellow, but is he really stranger than the dude wearing all yellow or the man in the revolutionary war outfit?
Next, we have the obligatory picture of myself. I really do try not to look so angry, it is hard when you have lights on top of your head. I mean they are hot and heavy.
Actually, I felt bad that I was going to subject my readers to another picture of me so I also included a picture of a picture of me from when I was in elementary school. And yes as you can tell from this picture, I used to eat lead paint. Also, I am sideways, this is actually how I have lived most of my life.
Finally, I leave you with a couple of night photos from my neighborhood. Here is the headstone place down the road from me. They sell headstones and all of your burial needs. Kind of a depressing establishment, but atleast they have this nifty neon light on all night just in case you need to realize that this is a headstone shop at 4 in the morning. Quick plug here for Six Feet Under that concludes tomorrow evening... crazy shit has been going down on that show in the last couple of episodes... they pretty much have to kill everyone off to top this who
le thing off.
I had to include a picture of the creepy angel that is in the window. Here she is in all of her neon blue lit glory. I think I will name her Ramona and pray to her nightly.
And finally, here we are... home... well atleast what home looks like if you had seven beers, two irish car bombs, and a couple shots of Jagr... oh and a joint for good measure...
As for me, I am still on the wagon...
The first one was taken in Union Square. Clearly, some people are not happy with the war in Iraq including our friend the King pictured at the bottom of this page. Not sure what he was the king of, except for begging, which he did as soon as I took this picture. This picture is one of the many reasons that I love New York City. I mean the King is clearly a strange fellow, but is he really stranger than the dude wearing all yellow or the man in the revolutionary war outfit?
Next, we have the obligatory picture of myself. I really do try not to look so angry, it is hard when you have lights on top of your head. I mean they are hot and heavy.
Actually, I felt bad that I was going to subject my readers to another picture of me so I also included a picture of a picture of me from when I was in elementary school. And yes as you can tell from this picture, I used to eat lead paint. Also, I am sideways, this is actually how I have lived most of my life.
Finally, I leave you with a couple of night photos from my neighborhood. Here is the headstone place down the road from me. They sell headstones and all of your burial needs. Kind of a depressing establishment, but atleast they have this nifty neon light on all night just in case you need to realize that this is a headstone shop at 4 in the morning. Quick plug here for Six Feet Under that concludes tomorrow evening... crazy shit has been going down on that show in the last couple of episodes... they pretty much have to kill everyone off to top this who
le thing off.I had to include a picture of the creepy angel that is in the window. Here she is in all of her neon blue lit glory. I think I will name her Ramona and pray to her nightly.
And finally, here we are... home... well atleast what home looks like if you had seven beers, two irish car bombs, and a couple shots of Jagr... oh and a joint for good measure...
As for me, I am still on the wagon...
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Rain Delay and The Great Time Warner Caper
In the City, Time Warner Cable is king, emperor, or el presidente for all of your cable television needs. As a result, you are at their mercy when it comes to getting things fixed or having problems solved via their customer service and/or support. Generally, this makes New Yorkers hesistant to give them a call when a problem arises for fear that you will either wait on the phone for three hours with no help in sight or by the end of the phone conversation, you will have signed up for the 300 dollar all channel mega package simply to get someone to come out to the house to check on the cable box. There are also Time Warner stores where it is rumored that some have entered and never returned.
With this frame of reference in mind, my old roommate and I signed up for Time Warner cable when I first moved to Brooklyn almost two years ago. Everything was going great until one weekend, approximately three months into my stay here, when the remote control stopped working. At first, I thought it was the batteries but after buying new Double A's and slapping the remote control around a bit, I realized that the remote control was definitely not working. (Note: I do not have a degree in engineering but I am wicked smart.)
The next attempt to fix this problem occurred when I asked my old roommate to get the damn thing fixed by having him call Time Warner to figure out the proper course of action. The old roommate is a very talented actor and a great guy, but he is definitely not the most responsible person on the earth or the type that would get it done. Further, to get him to do anything, required that you light the equivalent of a bonfire under his ass (another cliche, ugh). However, I figured that he needed to do it because the bill and the account was under his name. Needless to say, to this day, I am still waiting for him to make that phone call and since he has moved out, I doubt that call is forthcoming.
Of course, he moved out almost ten months ago and as of last night, the remote was still broken. During that time, I got used to the fact that I had to actually get up from the couch whenever I needed to change the channel. (Although many times, I considered fashioning some type of stick that would allow me to remain seated.) Additionally, once the account switched over to my name, I dreaded the fact that I would have to contact Time Warner in order to correct this problem because of the problems delineated above. Moreover, I heard that the lines at the actual Time Warner stores were worse than the one that the masses wait in order to get into Space Mountain at Disney World. (Note: I was going to make some reference to them being longer than a bread line in... but see no matter what follows that opener is either racist, anti-semitic, or makes you just sound like you are an awful person. Ironically, by not doing it but explaining what I was going to do has just made me look like even worse of a person.)
The point of this entire entry is that this morning, fresh from a sober evening of sleep, I left the house in order to head into the City to end this broken remote control stand off once and for all. I was ready to wait in long lines and for many hours as I had my bottle of water and 30 GB Mp3 player. Time Warner would not win, I would outlast them and their tyrannical rule.
After getting lost, I found the Time Warner store on East 23rd between Park Avenue and Madison and entered prepared for the worst. Stopping at the security guard, I explained to him that I needed to speak to someone about fixing my remote control. (remember I am back in New York City and not Las Vegas so there is no double meaning in that statement) The security guard directed me to the back of the dimly lit store to a series of windows with Time Warner workers waiting to help me.
Confused, I approached the windows, glancing around in search of a line, a number dispenser, or any indication that I was about lose ten hours of my life to Time Warner. Instead, there was no indication that there had ever been a line or an type of unnecessary expenditure of time in this store i.e. no sleeping bags, garbage, or tents.
And so I approached the window directly in front of me and sheepishly said, "My remote is broken."
She responded, "Sure, no problem, I just need the old one."
I stared at her for a second wondering if this was some sick Time Warner joke or hidden camera show, and then, remembered that the remote was in my bag... So I dug it out and proceeded to give her the remote, and she in turn gave me a new one. And that was that. She did not ask me about the account number, whose name it was under, or anything other than that I give her the old remote. I thanked her, and quickly left the store, before Ashton Kutcher came out from the dark corners to tell me that I was punked. (Note: I am not famous so this is impossible, but if he ever did, I would punch him in the fucken face.)
I returned home, and the remote worked.
And so for almost two years, I have not had a remote control for my television because I was worried that Time Warner would some how steal my soul or some how render me impotent if I undertook the process to get it fixed. Instead, in less than three minutes on a Saturday morning in August, I replaced that remote control and simultaneously, proved that I am a giant JACK ASS!!!
With this frame of reference in mind, my old roommate and I signed up for Time Warner cable when I first moved to Brooklyn almost two years ago. Everything was going great until one weekend, approximately three months into my stay here, when the remote control stopped working. At first, I thought it was the batteries but after buying new Double A's and slapping the remote control around a bit, I realized that the remote control was definitely not working. (Note: I do not have a degree in engineering but I am wicked smart.)
The next attempt to fix this problem occurred when I asked my old roommate to get the damn thing fixed by having him call Time Warner to figure out the proper course of action. The old roommate is a very talented actor and a great guy, but he is definitely not the most responsible person on the earth or the type that would get it done. Further, to get him to do anything, required that you light the equivalent of a bonfire under his ass (another cliche, ugh). However, I figured that he needed to do it because the bill and the account was under his name. Needless to say, to this day, I am still waiting for him to make that phone call and since he has moved out, I doubt that call is forthcoming.
Of course, he moved out almost ten months ago and as of last night, the remote was still broken. During that time, I got used to the fact that I had to actually get up from the couch whenever I needed to change the channel. (Although many times, I considered fashioning some type of stick that would allow me to remain seated.) Additionally, once the account switched over to my name, I dreaded the fact that I would have to contact Time Warner in order to correct this problem because of the problems delineated above. Moreover, I heard that the lines at the actual Time Warner stores were worse than the one that the masses wait in order to get into Space Mountain at Disney World. (Note: I was going to make some reference to them being longer than a bread line in... but see no matter what follows that opener is either racist, anti-semitic, or makes you just sound like you are an awful person. Ironically, by not doing it but explaining what I was going to do has just made me look like even worse of a person.)
The point of this entire entry is that this morning, fresh from a sober evening of sleep, I left the house in order to head into the City to end this broken remote control stand off once and for all. I was ready to wait in long lines and for many hours as I had my bottle of water and 30 GB Mp3 player. Time Warner would not win, I would outlast them and their tyrannical rule.
After getting lost, I found the Time Warner store on East 23rd between Park Avenue and Madison and entered prepared for the worst. Stopping at the security guard, I explained to him that I needed to speak to someone about fixing my remote control. (remember I am back in New York City and not Las Vegas so there is no double meaning in that statement) The security guard directed me to the back of the dimly lit store to a series of windows with Time Warner workers waiting to help me.
Confused, I approached the windows, glancing around in search of a line, a number dispenser, or any indication that I was about lose ten hours of my life to Time Warner. Instead, there was no indication that there had ever been a line or an type of unnecessary expenditure of time in this store i.e. no sleeping bags, garbage, or tents.
And so I approached the window directly in front of me and sheepishly said, "My remote is broken."
She responded, "Sure, no problem, I just need the old one."
I stared at her for a second wondering if this was some sick Time Warner joke or hidden camera show, and then, remembered that the remote was in my bag... So I dug it out and proceeded to give her the remote, and she in turn gave me a new one. And that was that. She did not ask me about the account number, whose name it was under, or anything other than that I give her the old remote. I thanked her, and quickly left the store, before Ashton Kutcher came out from the dark corners to tell me that I was punked. (Note: I am not famous so this is impossible, but if he ever did, I would punch him in the fucken face.)
I returned home, and the remote worked.
And so for almost two years, I have not had a remote control for my television because I was worried that Time Warner would some how steal my soul or some how render me impotent if I undertook the process to get it fixed. Instead, in less than three minutes on a Saturday morning in August, I replaced that remote control and simultaneously, proved that I am a giant JACK ASS!!!
Friday, August 19, 2005
Afternoon Delight
Well the usual Friday lull has hit me like a ton of bricks and for the last couple of hours, I have been sitting at my work computer e-mailing and trying to make time run out so that I can get the fuck out of dodge. (By the way, I hate the fact that I use so many cliches when I write, I apologize). Anyway, the boredom has grown to the point that I figured I would just write for awhile and see how time that burned. (tick, tock, tick, tock)
Tonight, we have a huge softball game for the old office softball team. If we win, the team advances to the playoffs and if not, a coin toss decides our post-season fate. We lost the last game that we played, which put us in our present predicament. In that game, I got an inside the park homer but totally screwed up my right hamstring. As stated, I have run since that time but I am not sure how hard I can go... we shall see.
Finally, I have a confession to make, I like popsicles. Actually, I am addicted to them especially the Real Fruit Lemon kind. My obsession with popsicles started when i was a little kid, and I used to go to my grandmother's house and she gave them to me... I guess that is better than beer but still... Now, I feel better...
Back to work.
Tonight, we have a huge softball game for the old office softball team. If we win, the team advances to the playoffs and if not, a coin toss decides our post-season fate. We lost the last game that we played, which put us in our present predicament. In that game, I got an inside the park homer but totally screwed up my right hamstring. As stated, I have run since that time but I am not sure how hard I can go... we shall see.
Finally, I have a confession to make, I like popsicles. Actually, I am addicted to them especially the Real Fruit Lemon kind. My obsession with popsicles started when i was a little kid, and I used to go to my grandmother's house and she gave them to me... I guess that is better than beer but still... Now, I feel better...
Back to work.
Odds and Ends
I was going to post a massive entry about my life and Phase III, but I have not figured out my life or what Phase III is or if it even exists. So instead I figured I would drop a few brief thoughts for the day...
1. If the 99 Cents Stores here in the City are not the closest thing to hell that exists on Earth, I am not quite sure what the fuck is. I went to one of these establishments this afternoon to pick up two things: garbage bags and a shower curtain. Now this is a pretty simple task in most normal stores, but in the discount boutique, this task becomes a test of both endurance and patience. First of all, these stores have never attended retail store school, meaning that they do not how to place products in the best location for them to sell easier nor do they subscribe to any form of organizational system. (Thus, they are the retail store equivalent of an elementary school without the Dewey Decimal System, which I do not believe is even used any more... that is scarring)... Further, the aisles are so packed with tons of shit because they never get rid of the crap that does not sell and rather simply restock by piling on top of the old non-selling stuff. As a result, you have to go up and down three different rows like you are living Dig Dug in order to obtain the item that you are looking for. Now that task would be ok if there were not also several hundred people, who have the same goal of saving money, in the store making the place more packed than a train in India. (That is not racist, Indian trains are packed, look it up) Anyway, after three hours (ten minutes) and the realization that they did not have an ATM, I left with my items.. but without my soul... Note: Someday we will discuss Walmarts in or near major cities and how they are actually just a sites for weekend riots and child torture.
2. I have Court tomorrow and have five or six motions to review this evening so that I get to argue them in front of a judge and generally scream at another human being, who is my opposition du jour. I have always been really competitive and actually look forward to these weekly sparring matches. Plus, sometimes I make the other attorney look pretty stupid, which is even a bigger boost to the old ego. Yeah I tend to be an adrenaline junky.
3. We played poker tonight. This was the first test of the 30-day plan in that this night is usually filled with all the evils that I am trying to avoid. The fellas, however, showed up with Gatorade, and we still had a great time. We probably even had more fun. (Weird) Thanks guys.
Maybe this is not so bad after all. Weekend looming... Day 3 complete.
1. If the 99 Cents Stores here in the City are not the closest thing to hell that exists on Earth, I am not quite sure what the fuck is. I went to one of these establishments this afternoon to pick up two things: garbage bags and a shower curtain. Now this is a pretty simple task in most normal stores, but in the discount boutique, this task becomes a test of both endurance and patience. First of all, these stores have never attended retail store school, meaning that they do not how to place products in the best location for them to sell easier nor do they subscribe to any form of organizational system. (Thus, they are the retail store equivalent of an elementary school without the Dewey Decimal System, which I do not believe is even used any more... that is scarring)... Further, the aisles are so packed with tons of shit because they never get rid of the crap that does not sell and rather simply restock by piling on top of the old non-selling stuff. As a result, you have to go up and down three different rows like you are living Dig Dug in order to obtain the item that you are looking for. Now that task would be ok if there were not also several hundred people, who have the same goal of saving money, in the store making the place more packed than a train in India. (That is not racist, Indian trains are packed, look it up) Anyway, after three hours (ten minutes) and the realization that they did not have an ATM, I left with my items.. but without my soul... Note: Someday we will discuss Walmarts in or near major cities and how they are actually just a sites for weekend riots and child torture.
2. I have Court tomorrow and have five or six motions to review this evening so that I get to argue them in front of a judge and generally scream at another human being, who is my opposition du jour. I have always been really competitive and actually look forward to these weekly sparring matches. Plus, sometimes I make the other attorney look pretty stupid, which is even a bigger boost to the old ego. Yeah I tend to be an adrenaline junky.
3. We played poker tonight. This was the first test of the 30-day plan in that this night is usually filled with all the evils that I am trying to avoid. The fellas, however, showed up with Gatorade, and we still had a great time. We probably even had more fun. (Weird) Thanks guys.
Maybe this is not so bad after all. Weekend looming... Day 3 complete.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
The Reconstruction of a Runner
On Tuesday, I went for a run for the first time in almost two weeks. During those two weeks, I had basically abused my lungs, drank excessively, gained weight, and managed to pull my hamstring playing softball. As a result, I had zero expectations going into the run on Tuesday other than the fact that I hoped that I would not die on the side of the road and left to the large rats of New York.
Now, the run itself was not that fast nor was it that slow but what impressed me most was the first mile, which I ran in a very comfortable 7:40. (Just as a warning, it is true that most people can run fast for one mile if they are in any type of decent shape, but the kicker here is that although 7:40 is not that fast, I was just trying to run comfortably and was able to run a decent mile, which in reality, I really should have had no business being able to do.
Now what does this have to do with anything, well the subject of this entry is actually Phase Two of my plan because over the next thirty days and beyond, I plan to reconstruct myself into an actual competitive runner. I am not planning to make the Olympics or to win a marathon, but I am planning to be able to progress with my endurance so that I don't have to experience the roller coaster ride that has been my running over the past five years.
In the past, I have written about how much I love running, and it is true because I feel that running is that one time during the day that I am truly in my own little world. (Note: Many think I am in my own little world all the time) Running provides me with a place of solitude and peace that I do not achieve at any other point during the day.
My past entries, however, have left out an convenient little detail of my current running in that when I run, I do so in constant pain. Everyday that I run, I experience pain whether it be in my shins, my knees, or other parts of my legs. Now certainly, alot of this pain has to do with the fact that I have been running since I was probably four years old when my parents used to take me to Harkness Park in Waterford, CT and race me like a greyhound dog. (I got medals, they probably got cash and cocaine) But in addition to the years of wear and tear, I am also convinced that alot of my pain has to do with the fact that I have been drinking excessively for the amount of time that I have....
You see successful running requires the consumption of an excessive amount of water in order to keep your body hydrated and to recover quicker from harder or longer workouts i.e. rehydration. As a result, if you spend most of your evenings drinking after your runs like I did, you are first and foremost not rehydrating after the run and second, dehydrating yourself further. As such, you basically eliminating the process of recovery and instead relying on trying to rehydrate by consuming whatever amount of water I infuse into my muscles during the day. Further, this course of conduct means that I sleep in a dehydrated state so that my muscles never truly recover. Therefore, I am furthering my pain when I run. Plus, instead of building a great base for running with each run, I lose any improvement by being destructive at night. It truly is a viscious cycle.
A great example is my most recent marathon where although I still managed to perform acceptably, I still proceeded to do things during my entire training that basically made it an uphill battle to perform the way I did. I have done this in the past where I have run races either hungover after a hard night of partying or raced after minimally productive and usually short training period. I do not want to train like that anymore, and I firmly believe that this part of the plan will help me avoid such problems by establishing control over how I train. (Yeah, it sounds a bit hard core or geeky but I am on a roll.)
So the plan itself is going to go as follows:
1. I am going to put the marathon that I was training for in October off for awhile. First and foremost, I will not be ready in time for this one. I mean I could actually run it, but I do not want to have to increase my mileage too quickly and thus make my self susceptible to further injury totally defeating the purpose of any ideas I have just discussed. Instead, I want to truly start this thing called running like my life from beginning as best that I can.
2. I am going to use what is referred to as the 10% plan, foundhere . I do not want to really explain the entire thing to you because that will be very boring, but essentially, you never increase your weekly mileage by more than 10% from the previous week's mileage i.e. 12 this week does not get to be more than 14 next week and so forth. By doing so, I will hopefully avoid potential injury, and I can begin to rebuild.
So that is that, I want to become a runner again and be able to run in the way that I know I can and have in the past.
By the way, Day 2 is done, and the weekend looms on the horizon... BRING IT ON!!!
Now, the run itself was not that fast nor was it that slow but what impressed me most was the first mile, which I ran in a very comfortable 7:40. (Just as a warning, it is true that most people can run fast for one mile if they are in any type of decent shape, but the kicker here is that although 7:40 is not that fast, I was just trying to run comfortably and was able to run a decent mile, which in reality, I really should have had no business being able to do.
Now what does this have to do with anything, well the subject of this entry is actually Phase Two of my plan because over the next thirty days and beyond, I plan to reconstruct myself into an actual competitive runner. I am not planning to make the Olympics or to win a marathon, but I am planning to be able to progress with my endurance so that I don't have to experience the roller coaster ride that has been my running over the past five years.
In the past, I have written about how much I love running, and it is true because I feel that running is that one time during the day that I am truly in my own little world. (Note: Many think I am in my own little world all the time) Running provides me with a place of solitude and peace that I do not achieve at any other point during the day.
My past entries, however, have left out an convenient little detail of my current running in that when I run, I do so in constant pain. Everyday that I run, I experience pain whether it be in my shins, my knees, or other parts of my legs. Now certainly, alot of this pain has to do with the fact that I have been running since I was probably four years old when my parents used to take me to Harkness Park in Waterford, CT and race me like a greyhound dog. (I got medals, they probably got cash and cocaine) But in addition to the years of wear and tear, I am also convinced that alot of my pain has to do with the fact that I have been drinking excessively for the amount of time that I have....
You see successful running requires the consumption of an excessive amount of water in order to keep your body hydrated and to recover quicker from harder or longer workouts i.e. rehydration. As a result, if you spend most of your evenings drinking after your runs like I did, you are first and foremost not rehydrating after the run and second, dehydrating yourself further. As such, you basically eliminating the process of recovery and instead relying on trying to rehydrate by consuming whatever amount of water I infuse into my muscles during the day. Further, this course of conduct means that I sleep in a dehydrated state so that my muscles never truly recover. Therefore, I am furthering my pain when I run. Plus, instead of building a great base for running with each run, I lose any improvement by being destructive at night. It truly is a viscious cycle.
A great example is my most recent marathon where although I still managed to perform acceptably, I still proceeded to do things during my entire training that basically made it an uphill battle to perform the way I did. I have done this in the past where I have run races either hungover after a hard night of partying or raced after minimally productive and usually short training period. I do not want to train like that anymore, and I firmly believe that this part of the plan will help me avoid such problems by establishing control over how I train. (Yeah, it sounds a bit hard core or geeky but I am on a roll.)
So the plan itself is going to go as follows:
1. I am going to put the marathon that I was training for in October off for awhile. First and foremost, I will not be ready in time for this one. I mean I could actually run it, but I do not want to have to increase my mileage too quickly and thus make my self susceptible to further injury totally defeating the purpose of any ideas I have just discussed. Instead, I want to truly start this thing called running like my life from beginning as best that I can.
2. I am going to use what is referred to as the 10% plan, found
So that is that, I want to become a runner again and be able to run in the way that I know I can and have in the past.
By the way, Day 2 is done, and the weekend looms on the horizon... BRING IT ON!!!
Thanks
Just wanted to drop a quick thanks to my buddy, Bob Jingle , who wrote one of the best pieces on what my buddy, Savage and I are going through right now. I agree with him 100%. Thanks man.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Late Afternoon Apologies
Since I have no other way to find you but hope maybe someday you will find my blog, I would just like to apologize to the fine gentleman that I sprayed my entire Ginger Ale on today while riding the A train into Manhattan. I was heading to a deposition and you were probably heading to something far more important such as a hot lunch date with the woman of your dreams or an important job interview. I offered my apologies, but I could tell from your look of disgust that I could never change the fact that you were now covered in Schwepps. (or was that Canada Dry?) I thank you for not punching me in the face or for returning the favor with your own saliva. Yes, you were the true gentleman, Ginger Ale Man, and I was but a mere failure in the art of opening a carbonated soft drink. For that, I apologize...
Oh and by the way, it was only soda, get over it... TOOL!!!
Oh and by the way, it was only soda, get over it... TOOL!!!
Doing Myself A Solid
Recently, a person that I care for deeply asked me why I am always so critical of myself and generally unhappy with everything that I do on a daily basis. This individual wondered (this person's words follow and not mine) how a person with so much potential and ability can live their life feeling essentially defeated at the end of each day. (ok I paraphrased)...
But in a nutshell, these comments are pretty much dead on in describing how I have been living my life as of late. I have spent a lot of time self-loathing and feeling really sorry for myself when in reality, I should be happy or atleast making some kind of progress to achieve whatever the fuck happiness is...Instead of seeing the tree before the proverbial forest.. (is that right?)
Note: My mother, who always gives sage advice, has always told me whenever I have been sad or down, to "think of the people with no legs."
Note further: She once sent me a picture of a person with no legs with a handwritten caption, "THEY DO EXIST!!!"
Mom makes some good points, but I am not sure that happiness is as simple as that... But it is a point well-taken... And one that I am sure she swears by...
As a result of all of these factors and as I have written about, I left for Vegas with a festuring desire to return therefrom with a plan. Now, originally, I was very hesitant to discuss any plan that I devised since such action has the potential of blowing up in my face and thus, being nothing but lip service... HOWEVER, I have decided to say fuck it and write down atleast the first part of my plan so that I have something to hold myself to as a sort of a goal for the next thirty days of my life.
Fuck it, here it goes...
The first phase of the plan is actually pretty simple. For the next thirty days, I am not going to indulge in any drugs or alcohol in order to use this time as a form of detox and to see what the hell this world is like if I am sober as well as what one does exactly when they are sober. Both of these concepts are extremely frightening to me and should be considerable challenges.
During that time, I will keep you, my five loyal readers, posted on my progress (probably not every day since the weekends are when the rubber hits the road) and vow to let you know when and if I fail.
Note: Failure would be a true kick in the junk and possibly an indication of a bigger problem.
Now, at the end of the thirty days, I am not going to head out on a binge or flush these next thirty days down the toilet. In reality as stated above, thirty days is just a short-term goal that is pretty arbitrary, but I need to take this first step in order to achieve a larger goal of living a lifestyle that I consider to be healthy and conducive to be happy. It's going to be one hell of a ride..
By the way, today was day 1.... 29 to go...
But in a nutshell, these comments are pretty much dead on in describing how I have been living my life as of late. I have spent a lot of time self-loathing and feeling really sorry for myself when in reality, I should be happy or atleast making some kind of progress to achieve whatever the fuck happiness is...Instead of seeing the tree before the proverbial forest.. (is that right?)
Note: My mother, who always gives sage advice, has always told me whenever I have been sad or down, to "think of the people with no legs."
Note further: She once sent me a picture of a person with no legs with a handwritten caption, "THEY DO EXIST!!!"
Mom makes some good points, but I am not sure that happiness is as simple as that... But it is a point well-taken... And one that I am sure she swears by...
As a result of all of these factors and as I have written about, I left for Vegas with a festuring desire to return therefrom with a plan. Now, originally, I was very hesitant to discuss any plan that I devised since such action has the potential of blowing up in my face and thus, being nothing but lip service... HOWEVER, I have decided to say fuck it and write down atleast the first part of my plan so that I have something to hold myself to as a sort of a goal for the next thirty days of my life.
Fuck it, here it goes...
The first phase of the plan is actually pretty simple. For the next thirty days, I am not going to indulge in any drugs or alcohol in order to use this time as a form of detox and to see what the hell this world is like if I am sober as well as what one does exactly when they are sober. Both of these concepts are extremely frightening to me and should be considerable challenges.
During that time, I will keep you, my five loyal readers, posted on my progress (probably not every day since the weekends are when the rubber hits the road) and vow to let you know when and if I fail.
Note: Failure would be a true kick in the junk and possibly an indication of a bigger problem.
Now, at the end of the thirty days, I am not going to head out on a binge or flush these next thirty days down the toilet. In reality as stated above, thirty days is just a short-term goal that is pretty arbitrary, but I need to take this first step in order to achieve a larger goal of living a lifestyle that I consider to be healthy and conducive to be happy. It's going to be one hell of a ride..
By the way, today was day 1.... 29 to go...
Loving Yourself Is As Easy as SEXY TIME PHOTO
So here I am in the flesh in blood. This was taken at my buddy's place in Williamsburg this evening in order to capture not only my anger but also my bitchin' tan... Actually, it was taken so that I could have a picture in my profile, but apparently, blogspot only allows this to be done is by posting it as an entry itself. I guess this requirement serves two purposes in that it enables me to have the picture in my profile and makes me appear like I want to see two of me all the time... Yes, I guess I do love myself...
In that same vein, since Sean "P. Diddy" Combs announced today that his name is now just Diddy, I will soon be announcing my new name to go along with this hot photo...
Seriously though, I hope to continue expanding the blog in the coming days and months in a similar fashion with photos, links, and what I actually write about. I will still keep dropping some rants and some regular anger, but I will also start to include more entries about my day to day existence that may actually not be as angry... Trust me you will understand in a little bit...
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Vegas Loose Ends
Well as I have had a little separation from Vegas and been to work for a solid day, I remembered a few interesting details and tidbits that I wanted to write down before I forgot:
1. I slept on the floor each night in Vegas. Now, I am not complaining in the least because my bedmate, SwB is a big dude like myself and there was just no way for us to sleep in the tiny bed at Caesar's.. And actually it was not that bad except for the hip pointer that I now have... (not sure that was interesting but I am just warming up)
2. It rained on the last day in Vegas and I mean it did not just rain for ten minutes as the storm lasted a decent 8 hours or so. It also included lightning which in the desert with nothing else around is pretty amazing. (wish I had a digital camera)
3. I saw Pete Rose while I was in Vegas. Now the thought of seeing Pete Rose in Vegas makes me laugh even as I write this mainly because for those that do not know, he was banned from baseball for gambling on the game. Something that he denied at the time but has now admitted. As a result, it was good to see that Pete has done everything he can to demonstrate that he no longer has a problem. I just wish I had caught him in the Sportsbook betting on the Reds.
4. Finally, if you are having a bachelor party in Vegas, try to get one dude in the party who does not look like Elephant Man. While in the pool in Vegas, my group saw one of the ugliest bachelor parties ever. Sadly, this criticism is why I will be forever single since I judge people too often... But come on, they could have rented somebody for the weekend.
5. The computer cost me five bucks a minute to use while in Vegas. Never question my commitment.
1. I slept on the floor each night in Vegas. Now, I am not complaining in the least because my bedmate, SwB is a big dude like myself and there was just no way for us to sleep in the tiny bed at Caesar's.. And actually it was not that bad except for the hip pointer that I now have... (not sure that was interesting but I am just warming up)
2. It rained on the last day in Vegas and I mean it did not just rain for ten minutes as the storm lasted a decent 8 hours or so. It also included lightning which in the desert with nothing else around is pretty amazing. (wish I had a digital camera)
3. I saw Pete Rose while I was in Vegas. Now the thought of seeing Pete Rose in Vegas makes me laugh even as I write this mainly because for those that do not know, he was banned from baseball for gambling on the game. Something that he denied at the time but has now admitted. As a result, it was good to see that Pete has done everything he can to demonstrate that he no longer has a problem. I just wish I had caught him in the Sportsbook betting on the Reds.
4. Finally, if you are having a bachelor party in Vegas, try to get one dude in the party who does not look like Elephant Man. While in the pool in Vegas, my group saw one of the ugliest bachelor parties ever. Sadly, this criticism is why I will be forever single since I judge people too often... But come on, they could have rented somebody for the weekend.
5. The computer cost me five bucks a minute to use while in Vegas. Never question my commitment.
Monday, August 15, 2005
My Own Damn Bed
Is where I will be sleeping tonight... I finally arrived home from Las Vegas this afternoon at 3 PM after spending from 9 PM to 3 AM last night at the airport in Las Vegas attempting to survive an ironic... rain delay... It seems that while I was in the desert, back here in the East, God decided to give Noah a second chance to build that ark and unleashed monsoon season. As a result, instead of getting home at 5 AM on the East Coast, I arrived home at 3 PM....Other than that the flight and everything was great and this time when we landed in Newark, applause was acceptable since we all deserved a pat on the back by arriving home.
NOW, I must sleep...
NOW, I must sleep...
Sunday, August 14, 2005
The Final Countdown
Well it's the last day in Vegas and I am ready to get the fuck out of dodge. I finally made it downtown last night to Fremont Street and the Golden Nugget Casino where I basically ate the casino's lunch....meaning I won... So as long as I do not sit down at a table before I leave I stand to be up for the trip, 300 dollars or so... a great take....
All and all Vegas was a blast... not sure when or if I will come back but I had a great time with a great group of people..
Till tomorrow and the big apple...
All and all Vegas was a blast... not sure when or if I will come back but I had a great time with a great group of people..
Till tomorrow and the big apple...
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Groundhog Day
As previously stated, I have been to Vegas four times in the last three years and each time right around this point i.e. Day 4, I hit the wall and want to go home. And this is exactly what has happened today. I am still enjoying myself, but I am ready to come home.
More importantly, for the first time probably ever, I am ready to make some simple but life alteringly effective changes. I don't want to talk too much about right now because:
a) I am paying to type this entry.
b) Talk is just that, talk. Action is what I need, not talk.
BUT these changes are very real and I am very serious about them.
Strangely, my buddy, Savage, whose blog appears in the links to the right, appears to have had a life-altering event in the wee hours of this morning. Read it. Our society is going to hell in a handbasket.
As for a quick rundown, here are two Vegas stories:
1) My group, who bills ourselves as the US National High Five Team, went to the hottest club in Vegas called Pure, which is owned by a group of famous athletes i.e. Andre Agassi, Steffi Graf, Shaq and Rich Gedman. Anyway, the club is located in our hotel and basically requires the donation of a kidney to gain admittance or be a hot hot girl. Since I value my bodily organs and have not had a sex change, my chance along with the other male members of the group had a snow balls chance in hell of getting in. BUT in Vegas, everything has a price... and thus, after paying some dude 75 bucks to cut the four hour line last night, our group found ourselves roof top at Pure overlooking the Vegas Strip... All and all it was a great night and the club was amazing.... not sure though if it was worth the coin.
2) Before, I went out last night, I realized that my flight back was for the wrong day in that I was supposed to come back Monday evening instead of leaving on Sunday evening as I planned. As I have already said, I am pretty ready to get back to the City, and thus, the thought of ONE MORE NIGHT was less than desirable. Thankfully, the good people at Continental squared everything away this morning, and I am now good to go, although I had to spend an additional hundred bucks (on my own credit card) to switch the flight... SO it's all good.
Back to the pool.
More importantly, for the first time probably ever, I am ready to make some simple but life alteringly effective changes. I don't want to talk too much about right now because:
a) I am paying to type this entry.
b) Talk is just that, talk. Action is what I need, not talk.
BUT these changes are very real and I am very serious about them.
Strangely, my buddy, Savage, whose blog appears in the links to the right, appears to have had a life-altering event in the wee hours of this morning. Read it. Our society is going to hell in a handbasket.
As for a quick rundown, here are two Vegas stories:
1) My group, who bills ourselves as the US National High Five Team, went to the hottest club in Vegas called Pure, which is owned by a group of famous athletes i.e. Andre Agassi, Steffi Graf, Shaq and Rich Gedman. Anyway, the club is located in our hotel and basically requires the donation of a kidney to gain admittance or be a hot hot girl. Since I value my bodily organs and have not had a sex change, my chance along with the other male members of the group had a snow balls chance in hell of getting in. BUT in Vegas, everything has a price... and thus, after paying some dude 75 bucks to cut the four hour line last night, our group found ourselves roof top at Pure overlooking the Vegas Strip... All and all it was a great night and the club was amazing.... not sure though if it was worth the coin.
2) Before, I went out last night, I realized that my flight back was for the wrong day in that I was supposed to come back Monday evening instead of leaving on Sunday evening as I planned. As I have already said, I am pretty ready to get back to the City, and thus, the thought of ONE MORE NIGHT was less than desirable. Thankfully, the good people at Continental squared everything away this morning, and I am now good to go, although I had to spend an additional hundred bucks (on my own credit card) to switch the flight... SO it's all good.
Back to the pool.
Friday, August 12, 2005
Quick Fix
Just got back from six hours at the pool and had to vent. Apparently the management at Caesar's does not find it necessary to hire competent staff people since our waitress Valentina chose to approach us at best, once an hour and to take atleast another 45 minutes to get us our orders. I understand that this place is packed but service sufficiency is what casinos are all about and I cannot imagine that they endorse her inability to actually perform her job. With that said, I drank enough that I am currently considering a nap in order to make it out tonight...
And even though I am pissed, there was one highlight from her service when Valentina approached us with our first bucket of Coronas (cans) and the following conversation ensued....
V: Would you like some more? (thick argentinean accent)
Note: She has just delivered us five full Coronas for two people.
Us: No, we are okay, we will just drink these..
Her response was priceless...
V: Such big boys SO LITTLE CANS...
I am not sure what that means but I have a feeling she just tried to offer us something that is not on the official menu.. and yes, if you do not understand any of that neither do I.
Anyway off to shit, shower, and shave...
Oh before I forget.. Celine Dion is the main performer here at Caesar's and has some crazy contract that makes it impossible for her to ever be poor or for the entire country of Canada to be poor. As such, her face is on all of chips here... Anyway, the first night of blackjack playing, Dave, the gambler, invoked a NO CELINE rule, which basically means that everytime we play any form of game, we demand that each player flip over any chip in front of them so that her face is not showing. Currently, every table we have played at has resulted in all players and dealers making sure that Celine's face is on the felt... Which proves that no one loves Celine Dion while Germans love David Hasselhoff.
And even though I am pissed, there was one highlight from her service when Valentina approached us with our first bucket of Coronas (cans) and the following conversation ensued....
V: Would you like some more? (thick argentinean accent)
Note: She has just delivered us five full Coronas for two people.
Us: No, we are okay, we will just drink these..
Her response was priceless...
V: Such big boys SO LITTLE CANS...
I am not sure what that means but I have a feeling she just tried to offer us something that is not on the official menu.. and yes, if you do not understand any of that neither do I.
Anyway off to shit, shower, and shave...
Oh before I forget.. Celine Dion is the main performer here at Caesar's and has some crazy contract that makes it impossible for her to ever be poor or for the entire country of Canada to be poor. As such, her face is on all of chips here... Anyway, the first night of blackjack playing, Dave, the gambler, invoked a NO CELINE rule, which basically means that everytime we play any form of game, we demand that each player flip over any chip in front of them so that her face is not showing. Currently, every table we have played at has resulted in all players and dealers making sure that Celine's face is on the felt... Which proves that no one loves Celine Dion while Germans love David Hasselhoff.
A man, a plan, and a mechanical bull
Well here it is a little later than yesterday and a little bit more of my soul depleted. I had an interesting go of it last night with the gambling. Basically, I went up big and then lost what I had gone up on. The House never loses, remember that...
As for the rest of my evening... here is the rundown.
1. Cigar bar-- Caesar's is a fucken monster of a casino and in said casino, there is a cigar bar. Last night my buddies and I hit it up and managed to meet a couple of "connected" individuals who are casino hosts at big money casinos in Vegas. (names will not be mentioned since I want to live) Needless to say, if half of what they said was true, these individuals live some of the craziest lives I have heard about replete with lap dances from Paris Hilton and the tossing of Cuban Gooding, Jr. from their establishments... Oh and the cigars were good along with a drink called Hemingway's Epitaph containing rum, something, something, and drunk...
2. The New Frontier-- probably one of the shittiest and oldest casinos on the Strip, but they have a mechanical bull in their country bar. Needless to say, we hit up the bull and the bar last night and had an incredible time. I did not ride due to a recent hamstring injury but watching some of the talent made the night most enjoyable... although at times, the songs reminded me of her. But I managed to avoid a breakdown... hopefully, I can keep that trend up but I am not making any promises...
Finally, in Vegas, everyone is selling something. A perfect example is our cab driver last night that not only offered us a trip to a gentleman's club but also Asian whores... I am not sure why we looked like we needed Asian whores but the Asian Prince (our cabbie) figured we needed a solid...
Sorry this post is a little dull and slow but I am hitting a rut and a bit tired... I will make best efforts to rebound tomorrow.
Back your bets and always cover the come line.... (that's craps people)
As for the rest of my evening... here is the rundown.
1. Cigar bar-- Caesar's is a fucken monster of a casino and in said casino, there is a cigar bar. Last night my buddies and I hit it up and managed to meet a couple of "connected" individuals who are casino hosts at big money casinos in Vegas. (names will not be mentioned since I want to live) Needless to say, if half of what they said was true, these individuals live some of the craziest lives I have heard about replete with lap dances from Paris Hilton and the tossing of Cuban Gooding, Jr. from their establishments... Oh and the cigars were good along with a drink called Hemingway's Epitaph containing rum, something, something, and drunk...
2. The New Frontier-- probably one of the shittiest and oldest casinos on the Strip, but they have a mechanical bull in their country bar. Needless to say, we hit up the bull and the bar last night and had an incredible time. I did not ride due to a recent hamstring injury but watching some of the talent made the night most enjoyable... although at times, the songs reminded me of her. But I managed to avoid a breakdown... hopefully, I can keep that trend up but I am not making any promises...
Finally, in Vegas, everyone is selling something. A perfect example is our cab driver last night that not only offered us a trip to a gentleman's club but also Asian whores... I am not sure why we looked like we needed Asian whores but the Asian Prince (our cabbie) figured we needed a solid...
Sorry this post is a little dull and slow but I am hitting a rut and a bit tired... I will make best efforts to rebound tomorrow.
Back your bets and always cover the come line.... (that's craps people)
Thursday, August 11, 2005
One Hour Limit
As opposed to the 15 dollar limit at most blackjack tables, the above is the amount of sleep I got last night. Just to help my readers, here is a bit of advice, trying to kick a bad drinking habit is not to be done in Vegas as this place oozes booze. I knew that.. and I am prepared to be judged or stoned to death...
Anyway, I am writing slightly drunk and semi-full at 9:23 AM Vegas time after trying to get some sleep at 6 AM... Trying is the key word since some members of my party failed to return to the room until 7 AM and then proceeded to wake me to go to the pool... As such, I am not a rested or happy camper... But here are a few things I wanted to chime in with about this trip...
1. Played Blackjack, Roulette, and Craps last night and I am currently up 20-25 dollars... and since I wrote that I will soon lose all of my money, my soul, and any hope of return from this hell hole.
2. The theme "What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas" is actually a commentary on how no matter how hard you try to remember, the excess of booze and limited sleep makes that concept an impossibility.
3. Moms in Bikinis-- there have been several and each time they have been followed by two or three children who want to end their lives with embarassment. I am not opposing their right to wear such pieces, but why do they hate kids?
4. Back waxing is far less painful than a tattoo, but I can definitely see how someone could take a swing at their waxer at some point... It is the ultimate tearing off of the band aid irritation...
Finally, I apologize for any typos, spelling errors, or inappropriate sentence structures, I am drunk... Go fuck yourselves...
I am in there like swim wear.
Anyway, I am writing slightly drunk and semi-full at 9:23 AM Vegas time after trying to get some sleep at 6 AM... Trying is the key word since some members of my party failed to return to the room until 7 AM and then proceeded to wake me to go to the pool... As such, I am not a rested or happy camper... But here are a few things I wanted to chime in with about this trip...
1. Played Blackjack, Roulette, and Craps last night and I am currently up 20-25 dollars... and since I wrote that I will soon lose all of my money, my soul, and any hope of return from this hell hole.
2. The theme "What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas" is actually a commentary on how no matter how hard you try to remember, the excess of booze and limited sleep makes that concept an impossibility.
3. Moms in Bikinis-- there have been several and each time they have been followed by two or three children who want to end their lives with embarassment. I am not opposing their right to wear such pieces, but why do they hate kids?
4. Back waxing is far less painful than a tattoo, but I can definitely see how someone could take a swing at their waxer at some point... It is the ultimate tearing off of the band aid irritation...
Finally, I apologize for any typos, spelling errors, or inappropriate sentence structures, I am drunk... Go fuck yourselves...
I am in there like swim wear.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Back Waxing and the Pool
I have landed... and checked into Caesar's Palace...I figured I would give a quick post to update the trip so far. The flight was smooth and the weather is gorgeous... It was a weird flight since I traveled solo due to the recent downfall of my existence... and as such, I flew the friendly skies with a 300 pound smelly dude as my row mate... not exactly ideal...
One bone of contention about the flight.. what is up with people clapping when the plane lands successfully? Isn't that what it is supposed to do? I mean is this supposed to be a miracle? I expect to land safetly so please hold the applause for something that warrants it.
As for Vegas itself, I have already lost a couple of bucks and plan to find the foo foo drink lady as soon as I get done typing. I am here for the next nine hours by myself since my other friends do not arrive till 10 this evening. As such, I have scheduled a back waxing for three o'clock and yes, I HAVE COMPLETELY LOST MY MIND... but I am in Vegas so why not...
Updates hopefully to follow throughout the weekend if I am still able to type.
One bone of contention about the flight.. what is up with people clapping when the plane lands successfully? Isn't that what it is supposed to do? I mean is this supposed to be a miracle? I expect to land safetly so please hold the applause for something that warrants it.
As for Vegas itself, I have already lost a couple of bucks and plan to find the foo foo drink lady as soon as I get done typing. I am here for the next nine hours by myself since my other friends do not arrive till 10 this evening. As such, I have scheduled a back waxing for three o'clock and yes, I HAVE COMPLETELY LOST MY MIND... but I am in Vegas so why not...
Updates hopefully to follow throughout the weekend if I am still able to type.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Off to See Caesar!!!
So when you start to feel glum and want to spend time with people that have no souls, you head to Vegas. And that ladies and gentleman is where I will be for the next couple of days fulfilling my yearly tradition of sun, fun, and unnecessary expending of government green. This will be my fourth trip in three years and I almost want to start planning for next year.
The funny thing is that I really do love Vegas and truly, I do not love it for those cheezy perks like whores, cocaine, and whores... I mean I have done those things while there... Okay maybe not but I did go to a strip club there once and we did hire strippers for my buddy's bachelor party who turned out to have extras for a price. In retrospect that had to be one of the scariest things that has ever happened to me in that I found myself having some coked out stripper asking me if I wanted to sleep with her for 500 dollars. I think I may have just given her that scared look an elementary school boy gives a girl who tries to kiss him. (I love to think my parents read this with horror each day that I post, but in truth, I am just happy that the four people that I know read it with horror.)
ANYWAY, I am off to Sin City tomorrow at 9 and will spend most of the time at the pool getting a bitchin' tan and drinkin' some fine foo foo lady drinks. I will gamble and lose but in the end, I will just be happy that I am away from all of this for a little bit. I need this vacation more than I can ever state and hope to come back with a plan for all that is fucking with me. Some would go to places of inspiration like France or Italy to cultivate their own personal world plan, but instead, I go to Vegas... I never said I was perfect... DON'T JUDGE ME!!!
The funny thing is that I really do love Vegas and truly, I do not love it for those cheezy perks like whores, cocaine, and whores... I mean I have done those things while there... Okay maybe not but I did go to a strip club there once and we did hire strippers for my buddy's bachelor party who turned out to have extras for a price. In retrospect that had to be one of the scariest things that has ever happened to me in that I found myself having some coked out stripper asking me if I wanted to sleep with her for 500 dollars. I think I may have just given her that scared look an elementary school boy gives a girl who tries to kiss him. (I love to think my parents read this with horror each day that I post, but in truth, I am just happy that the four people that I know read it with horror.)
ANYWAY, I am off to Sin City tomorrow at 9 and will spend most of the time at the pool getting a bitchin' tan and drinkin' some fine foo foo lady drinks. I will gamble and lose but in the end, I will just be happy that I am away from all of this for a little bit. I need this vacation more than I can ever state and hope to come back with a plan for all that is fucking with me. Some would go to places of inspiration like France or Italy to cultivate their own personal world plan, but instead, I go to Vegas... I never said I was perfect... DON'T JUDGE ME!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)