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.
Friday, August 19, 2005
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!!!
Saturday, August 06, 2005
Hipster Profiling
Recently, my friends and I had a brief discussion about the lunacy of the newly invoked random bag searching policy that the NYPD has started here in the City. At that time, I stated that this was a topic ripe for discussion in this forum but that I did not want to write about since I figured every hipster with a keyboard would be screaming about HOW AWFUL THE POLICY IS and HOW THEIR RIGHTS WERE BEING VIOLATED, etc. etc. etc. In reality, they should be more concerned about how the NYPD may find their three pounds of marijuana or that bag of coke stealthy stashed up their poop shoot. (yeah I said poop shoot, fuck off, it's nine in the morning) As such, I was not going to throw my hat into this forum but like with everything in my life, I changed my mind.... But only for a limited purpose...
Before I explain that purpose I would like to blame Chuck Klosterman for the remainder of this entry. Chuck is a pop culture guru and writer who has written Williamsburg favorites like "Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs" and the recent, "Killing Yourself to Live." I like him because he has this uncanny ability to interject everyday observations of the human race into his writing no matter how unrelated this observation seems as you read it and then make that observation unquestionably relevant.
As a result, the reason why I blame him is that on the G train the other day, I was quietly reading his most recent book and thinking about this specific ability. And then in reaction, I started to look around the train in order to people watch and I could not stop. (For the record, I wish this blog had footnotes so that I could write these random thought somewhere else besides in my actual entry. I also wish that I had Tommy Lee's penis and could dunk a basketball but what does that have to do with the price of cheese? And I don't even like corn.... But back to the point of this random interjection, people watching or gawking or drooling is done by everyone in this City of ours and so blatantly that no one even seems to mind or notice it anymore)
Anyway, I proceeded to do exactly the same thing (people watch) when I transferred to L train. Note: a transfer in this situation means that I am a lazy fuck because my transfer is for one stop which is completely unnecessary and instead is easily walkable.
All of this watching got me to thinking that the NYPD is going to have one hell of a time searching bags prior to passengers getting on the train if they focus on the people who utilize my subway lines. For example, on the train back home that day there was this dude who we will now call Suspect A. Suspect A was wearing a Salvation Army quality tailored suit (brown i believe) and the required aviator sunglasses to match. He was also decked out with a fresh new haircut and a smug look of judgment planted on his face. And then to top it all off, he was carrying a lampshade. Now clearly, he had probably purchased this lampshade in the City. And even more clearly, he probably bought it at some cheap retail store or in true retard form, upped the fucken ante and purchased it at an over-priced antique store.
Regardless of where Suspect A purchased it, the point is this, Suspect A was the least suspicious looking person on my train as my train ran the gammet from the homeless to hippest. In fact, he looked completely normal for where I live. And that is why this new policy is a fucken farce, because no matter what we do and who we search, there is no way to tell who could be carrying a bomb or whatever and who could not be. The reality is that if someone really wants to blow my ass up like Jenna Jameson during a gang bang, they are going to do it.
And that is why I hate this policy because it is another band aid measure to combat the "war on terror" implemented solely to make joey from the Bronx and rosemarie from Brooklyn feel safer when in fact they are no safer than they were before the policy existed. Sadly, I do not necessarily have the answer to making ourselves safer although I think alot of it has to start with a better intelligence network that acts not for political gain but for the sole purpose of protecting the citizens who fund it. But until then, we are left with New York City's Finest trying to determine if Suspect A is a potential bomber or just another dude who spent way too much on a lampshade.
Before I explain that purpose I would like to blame Chuck Klosterman for the remainder of this entry. Chuck is a pop culture guru and writer who has written Williamsburg favorites like "Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs" and the recent, "Killing Yourself to Live." I like him because he has this uncanny ability to interject everyday observations of the human race into his writing no matter how unrelated this observation seems as you read it and then make that observation unquestionably relevant.
As a result, the reason why I blame him is that on the G train the other day, I was quietly reading his most recent book and thinking about this specific ability. And then in reaction, I started to look around the train in order to people watch and I could not stop. (For the record, I wish this blog had footnotes so that I could write these random thought somewhere else besides in my actual entry. I also wish that I had Tommy Lee's penis and could dunk a basketball but what does that have to do with the price of cheese? And I don't even like corn.... But back to the point of this random interjection, people watching or gawking or drooling is done by everyone in this City of ours and so blatantly that no one even seems to mind or notice it anymore)
Anyway, I proceeded to do exactly the same thing (people watch) when I transferred to L train. Note: a transfer in this situation means that I am a lazy fuck because my transfer is for one stop which is completely unnecessary and instead is easily walkable.
All of this watching got me to thinking that the NYPD is going to have one hell of a time searching bags prior to passengers getting on the train if they focus on the people who utilize my subway lines. For example, on the train back home that day there was this dude who we will now call Suspect A. Suspect A was wearing a Salvation Army quality tailored suit (brown i believe) and the required aviator sunglasses to match. He was also decked out with a fresh new haircut and a smug look of judgment planted on his face. And then to top it all off, he was carrying a lampshade. Now clearly, he had probably purchased this lampshade in the City. And even more clearly, he probably bought it at some cheap retail store or in true retard form, upped the fucken ante and purchased it at an over-priced antique store.
Regardless of where Suspect A purchased it, the point is this, Suspect A was the least suspicious looking person on my train as my train ran the gammet from the homeless to hippest. In fact, he looked completely normal for where I live. And that is why this new policy is a fucken farce, because no matter what we do and who we search, there is no way to tell who could be carrying a bomb or whatever and who could not be. The reality is that if someone really wants to blow my ass up like Jenna Jameson during a gang bang, they are going to do it.
And that is why I hate this policy because it is another band aid measure to combat the "war on terror" implemented solely to make joey from the Bronx and rosemarie from Brooklyn feel safer when in fact they are no safer than they were before the policy existed. Sadly, I do not necessarily have the answer to making ourselves safer although I think alot of it has to start with a better intelligence network that acts not for political gain but for the sole purpose of protecting the citizens who fund it. But until then, we are left with New York City's Finest trying to determine if Suspect A is a potential bomber or just another dude who spent way too much on a lampshade.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Do You Wake Up Early On The Last Day Of Your Life?
As a disclaimer, the subject of this mornings entry is not because I want to kill myself nor do I intend to but more due to the fact that I am up at 6 in the morning. As a result, while showering, I started to wonder if you wake up early for your own death meaning to a suicidal person is the events of that day so important that they actually get up early to prepare for it. I doubt it, but it would be cool if they did.
I woke this morning because I cannot take my life anymore. Last night, I did the usual.. smoke some... drink more.. and then pass out... But during it all, I managed to find out that my ex girlfriend has gone back to her old boyfriend from college and that caused me to wake up as soon as I tasted daylight. Needless to say, I am pretty fucked about it. Mainly because I do not understand why I cannot ever be happy with another person and why I am such a great launching pad for women to find the loves of their lives.
I mean there have been minor incidents like this throughout my life, but more importantly, the two biggest relationships I have ever have with the ex and a former high school girlfriend have at their ends resulted in that person finding eternal happiness shortly after they end their relationship with me. This phenomenon leaves me to believe that I must drive these individuals to search for anything better. And makes me think that I in turn will never find that happiness.
Hence, I am up at 6 in the morning sobering up while despising myself.
I woke this morning because I cannot take my life anymore. Last night, I did the usual.. smoke some... drink more.. and then pass out... But during it all, I managed to find out that my ex girlfriend has gone back to her old boyfriend from college and that caused me to wake up as soon as I tasted daylight. Needless to say, I am pretty fucked about it. Mainly because I do not understand why I cannot ever be happy with another person and why I am such a great launching pad for women to find the loves of their lives.
I mean there have been minor incidents like this throughout my life, but more importantly, the two biggest relationships I have ever have with the ex and a former high school girlfriend have at their ends resulted in that person finding eternal happiness shortly after they end their relationship with me. This phenomenon leaves me to believe that I must drive these individuals to search for anything better. And makes me think that I in turn will never find that happiness.
Hence, I am up at 6 in the morning sobering up while despising myself.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Harry Potter and the Asian Scrub
I need to call myself out before I crash for the evening. A couple of blogs ago, I criticized a woman who was watching that artist jump off the museum in Chicago as his comment on the 9/11 attacks. Her comment on the event was:
"It was fabulous," said Darlene Schuff, 56. "I just wanted to be a part of it. It's a happening."
And then last Friday night, I found myself heading out to purchase Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince and thus participating in a "happening" that "I just wanted to be a part of." And while, in my mind I can see a clear distinction because I just really wanted to read the damn book as soon as possible, I also understand that in a way, I criticized this woman for wanting to experience a happening. And thus, although I also think that Ms. Schuff probably finds herself at many a happening these days when she is not teeing off at the club, I have to acknowledge that my previous post now wreaks of hypocrisy.
As a result, Ms. Schuff if you are out there, please feel free to come and challenge me a Bloodsport-esque battle till one of us says, "Uncle!".
It's the least I can do.... BRING IT BITCH!!!
"It was fabulous," said Darlene Schuff, 56. "I just wanted to be a part of it. It's a happening."
And then last Friday night, I found myself heading out to purchase Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince and thus participating in a "happening" that "I just wanted to be a part of." And while, in my mind I can see a clear distinction because I just really wanted to read the damn book as soon as possible, I also understand that in a way, I criticized this woman for wanting to experience a happening. And thus, although I also think that Ms. Schuff probably finds herself at many a happening these days when she is not teeing off at the club, I have to acknowledge that my previous post now wreaks of hypocrisy.
As a result, Ms. Schuff if you are out there, please feel free to come and challenge me a Bloodsport-esque battle till one of us says, "Uncle!".
It's the least I can do.... BRING IT BITCH!!!
Friday, July 22, 2005
Donkey Punch
First and foremost, this blog has nothing to do with the aforementioned Donkey Punch. Although, if you ever want to really get in good with a lady, just let her know that by the end of the evening you hope that you can give her a Donkey Punch topped off with a Cleveland Steamer. I am not speculating about the success of this tactic, I am practically guaranteeing it. I mean ladies love when you assault and degrade them during the same bout with intercourse.
Note: For those of you who read the above and actually thought I was serious are: A) Seriously drunk or B) Dumb like Dude Fuck Dumb.
Note: Dude Fuck dumb is what my friends and I used to say the stereotypical jocks would say to each other when discussing the vocabulary and conversation content of the stereotypical jock.
For example:
Jock 1: Dude!!!
Jock 2: FUCK!!!
It is all truly clear, isn't it?
Anyway, I figured I would drop a blog for the homies this evening since for the first time in a long time, I have nothing to do on a Friday night and have actual free time. So here is the update...
Note: Make sure you read the following with your pants off...
First, my trip to Chicago was an unbelievable success. As stated, I traveled with my closest friends in the whole world. I mean these are the people that I fight with for five minutes and then just laugh at whatever we were fighting about. But as stated the trip was great as the drive both ways proved to be painless and the wedding itself was amazing. If I did not state this before, the wedding was an Indian wedding, and as a result, the ceremony itself was so beautiful and chock full of symbolism. Afterwards, the reception introduced me to a new category of dancing, Indian Dancing, which involves levels of sweating that I did not believe were humanly possible. I personally think that this saved each of us from being horribly hungover for the drive back. Plus, Dizzle got some nookie which proves he is not a gay faggot. (not that there is anything wrong with that)
Since then, I have been trying to actually have a summer, which has included a trip to Jones Beach and a bonafide summer picnic party which is written about by Savage. (see my links) Further, I started to train for my second marathon in October...
And thus for now, I am out like you read about...
Note: For those of you who read the above and actually thought I was serious are: A) Seriously drunk or B) Dumb like Dude Fuck Dumb.
Note: Dude Fuck dumb is what my friends and I used to say the stereotypical jocks would say to each other when discussing the vocabulary and conversation content of the stereotypical jock.
For example:
Jock 1: Dude!!!
Jock 2: FUCK!!!
It is all truly clear, isn't it?
Anyway, I figured I would drop a blog for the homies this evening since for the first time in a long time, I have nothing to do on a Friday night and have actual free time. So here is the update...
Note: Make sure you read the following with your pants off...
First, my trip to Chicago was an unbelievable success. As stated, I traveled with my closest friends in the whole world. I mean these are the people that I fight with for five minutes and then just laugh at whatever we were fighting about. But as stated the trip was great as the drive both ways proved to be painless and the wedding itself was amazing. If I did not state this before, the wedding was an Indian wedding, and as a result, the ceremony itself was so beautiful and chock full of symbolism. Afterwards, the reception introduced me to a new category of dancing, Indian Dancing, which involves levels of sweating that I did not believe were humanly possible. I personally think that this saved each of us from being horribly hungover for the drive back. Plus, Dizzle got some nookie which proves he is not a gay faggot. (not that there is anything wrong with that)
Since then, I have been trying to actually have a summer, which has included a trip to Jones Beach and a bonafide summer picnic party which is written about by Savage. (see my links) Further, I started to train for my second marathon in October...
And thus for now, I am out like you read about...
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