Here I am....

Well, alot has happened since the last time, I put finger to key and wrote for this little page. All I will say regarding that is that someone I care deeply for is going through a rough patch in terms of their health, but with prayer, support, and amazing strength, this person is going to be just fine. I, like this person, do not want to turn this blog into the type of thing that chronicles the ongoing battle that this person now faces... instead, I intend to keep the content light and the anger flowing... So other than the vague reference above that will be the last I talk about what i just wrote... You know the thing right up there that is vague... and contains no real detail.. No not that thing the other thing... exactly.

The Return of Brooklyn Lou

So tonight after finishing up the third Harry Potter movie and cleaning up after dinner, my evening was interrupted by the third member of my apartment, a mouse, who I named a long time ago, Brooklyn Lou. As background, I have seen a total of three mice since I arrived in Brooklyn almost three and half years ago along with approximately five cockroaches. I consider that number to be pretty decent by New York City standards so I continue to indulge them and our odd state of coexistence.

This evening's appearance occurred when Lou ran from behind the heater into the kitchen and then under the kitchen table. I promptly screamed saying the word "Mouse" with my voice cracking like a 13 year old boy going through puberty. I then gingerly got up, put on my Doc Martens, and grabbed the 2 X 4 located in my room. (As I said, its an odd relationship, one that someday may end with me bashing Lou's head in. Although I doubt, I have the guts.) Alas, Lou got away and is probably now somewhere downstairs feeding on the remnants of my landlord's daily cooked Italian feast.

Anyway, here's to Lou, you lucky little bastard, wherever you may be.. (most likely in my cupboard eating all my food and pooping everywhere.) (And yes, I am toasting him with a Blue Moon right now.)

Friday Night's Alright...

Sometimes I forget that Brooklyn is actually a huge borough and that it does not simply consist of Williamsburg and Brooklyn Heights, otherwise known as the area where I live and the area where I work. Anyway, last night, I went out to Bay Ridge to hang with some friends from work who call the Ridge their home. Bay Ridge for those you out there that do not know is the part of Brooklyn featured in Saturday Night Fever... and also a very neighborhoody part of Brooklyn which makes you forget that you are actually in one of the five boroughs.

Anyway, last night featured, a trip to a delicious little Middle Eastern place called, Tanoreen, which lived up to its reviews as one of the best Middle Eastern places in New York City. Plus, it's cheap, which is always an added bonus. The group did a number on the menu, eating hummus, baba, a cool little cauliflower dish, stuffed grape leaves, okra with lamb, shepherd's pie, turkish salad, and a delicious mixed grill meat platter. The place is BYOB, but there is a wine store and a bodega right next door to satisfy all of your drinking needs. The other cool part of the dinner was that the owner/chef of the joint was very visible during the entire dining experience walking around and talking to each table making sure that everyone was well fed and enjoying themselves. It was a nice little touch that I think is sometimes forgotten in the bustling restaurant industry of New York City. Safe to say, a good time was had by all.

After a filling meal, all involved decided that we were too full to continue the evening and thus I left Bay Ridge to head back to the Burg. As a nice little surprise ending to the evening, on my way back to the Burg last night, I got to ride on one of the new R160 subway cars that was being tested on the N line. The cars are similar in appearance to the R143 cars that can be found on L line along with others in New York City. However, this new car's features the high tech display screen seen below:

The display board has a LCD screen, seen above displaying the 8 Av Local C information. The screen changes as the train proceeds from stop to stop with advisories, information about the new cars, and advertisements for MTA and the services they provide. The screen can also change according to what line the train is on so no longer will F trains that are acting as G trains for the day be suffering from an identity crisis. Additionally, as seen to the right, the stops shift down the board as the subway cars travel from stop to stop and the board let's you know how many stops you are away from your destination. (Providing a little added torture to those hipster transplants living in Harlem, who are no reminded throughout their ride that they still have 30 stops left before they are home) Like the LCD screen, the list of stops will all change according to what line the train is traveling on. Finally, the announcements are all automated so there will no longer be the classic scratchy subway voice to decipher. (Actually, I prefer hearing the announcements from real people and then sharing a knowing glance with all of my fellow passengers who are equally confused by what was just said by the conductor.)

Anyway, it was kind of cool to get a little sneak preview of the future...and to see another part of Brooklyn... and while, I don't usually write these little look at me and all of my adventure style pieces, I beg your indulgence as I am quite sure someday I am going to need this little blog to help me remember what the heck I did when I was 29 and angry... so stop judging me.

Apparently Homes Were Not Enough

It seems that the vandalism back home is not just limited to home as now there is news that the school systems school buses were vandalized early this morning. Now, I am not sure if the house parties and this random vandalism is related or that its kids that did the vandalism, but someone nees to declare martial law back home and lock everyone in their homes. I mean I definitely came from a small town, but it was not so small that people needed to resort to destruction in order to find something to do to take their minds off of their pathetic existence. Maybe the town is just having a bad month or something or maybe everyone back home has gone crazy. Actually come to think of it, we do have a very poorly run nuclear power plant near our town so it is possible that everyone's genetics have been so altered by the leaking radiation that the town is now just populated by mutants who are bent on destroying all that exists there. Another possibility that just came to me while re-reading the article is that it is also possible that the town is now under the control of an angry gang of elementary school aged children, who will stop at nothing to ensure that they no longer have to go to school.

Anyway, here is some of the article from theday.com:

Twenty-two out of 25 buses used by the school district were vandalized sometime between 2:30 and 5 this morning, forcing the schools to close for the day.

The ignition wires and electrical wires to the buses’ lights and radios were cut, according to Jim Flahive, an area general manager for Laidlaw, the company that owns and operates the buses.

Here is the complete article.

My Hometown

Well since I am currently on trial in front of a judge, who may or may not have been a crazy person in his last life, and with minimal support from my own office, who collectively has decided this is the case to hang me out to dry on, I figured that I would post a quick little bit about the craziness that has occurred recently in my hometown in sleepy Connecticut.

The article below describes two separate parties back home where wild vandalism ensued as part of an apparently new phenomena where kids use the house of a vacationing friend/classmate and then trash the place. (Ok this is not a new phenomena, but I never remember needing to trash a place when I was partying there. Of course, I also remember being in the middle of the woods during the dead of winter, which in retrospect may have been a good indication of how much of a moron I was and am.) Anyway, it's wild times back home.... actually it's kind of sad... and pathetic...

From theday.com:

Police Investigating EL House Trashings

East Lyme — In Philipp Roosli's house, beer cans are toppled onto Legos. Bras are strewn on a bed near family photographs. Near the kitchen table, where a jug of Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum sits, the family has marked off its children's heights in pen on a door's molding.Boots and Tiger, the family's two cats, have their heights marked there as well. Tiger is missing.

Philipp Roosli and his family were in Europe last week on a ski vacation when, police say, dozens of teenagers entered their house as well as another in town and trashed both. East Lyme schools were off last week. On Monday, police were still piecing together how the teens got into each house and who caused the damage. Police said the Roosli house, on Riverview Road, sustained several thousand dollars' worth of damage. The other house, owned by the Balantic family, on Laurel Hill Drive, sustained about $20,000 worth of damage, according to police. In that incident, at least two teens also totaled the family car.

Three teenage boys have been charged in the Laurel Hill Drive incident. The arrest of a fourth who was injured in the car crash is expected. Police are unsure whether any of the four were also involved in the Riverview Road incident. Under a 2006 law, police are prohibited from releasing the name of any 16- or 17-year-old they arrest except in the case of serious crimes.

Police said they believe 20 to 40 people attended parties at each of the houses. They said they believe there were a total of about four parties on different nights. Police stressed that they are not looking to arrest everyone who attended the parties but are seeking those who might have broken in and those who caused damage.

The Rooslis' house was the perfect place for a party. Hidden from Riverview Road, it sits at the end of a long driveway. Woods separate it from neighbors. Roosli learned from a house-sitter Thursday that his house had been used for at least one party and that police had been there. Roosli decided not to cut his trip short and didn't come home until Sunday night. He and his oldest son, a freshman at East Lyme High School, walked in planning to do some cleaning. They quickly retreated. During a walk-through Monday, the floors were sticky in every room that isn't carpeted. There was vomit in the sink of an upstairs bathroom. In a downstairs bathroom, Roosli said human feces filled the toilet and a nearby litter box. In the living room, dozens of cans of Busch Light were stacked on a long wooden table that looks as though it was used for a drinking game. A pingpong ball lies underneath the table. Jugs of Captain Morgan were scattered throughout, and lollipops, wrapped and unwrapped, were discarded in nearly every room. In the basement, a cherished antique chair the family brought from Europe was destroyed, toppled backwards. Every bed in the house was rumpled, including the one is Roosli's daughter's bedroom, where a poster of the Lillie B. Haynes fourth-grade class of 2005 is pinned to the wall.

The rest of the article can be found here: http://theday.com/re.aspx?re=6f973343-be9d-4b2e-b26e-668f90054a33.

Rest in Peace: Dennis Johnson

No this is not a funny celebrity death pool post, but rather a sad little entry on the passing of Dennis Johnson, a former Celtics player and part of my favorite sports team of all time. The 1986 Celtics won the NBA Championship beating the Houston Rockets. I remember watching this series and the final game with my Dad. In fact, we probably still have the final game on tape somewhere in my house. Anyway, DJ as he was called was a huge part of this great team, and I will forever remember how he along with Danny Ainge handled the guard duties for that famous team. Sad times definitely.

Here is more from Espn.com:

Former Boston Celtics guard Dennis Johnson, coach of the Celtics' team in the NBA Development League, collapsed during practice Thursday and died, ESPN The Magazine's Ric Bucher is reporting. Johnson was 52. Johnson was the MVP of the 1979 NBA Finals, averaging 22.6 points as his Seattle SuperSonics beat the Washington Bullets. After a brief stint with the Phoenix Suns, Johnson rejoined the Boston Celtics, where he teamed with Larry Bird, Kevin McHale, Danny Ainge and Robert Parish for a glorious run in the 1980s that saw Boston win the 1984 and 1986 NBA championships. Known throughout the league as "DJ," Johnson played in five NBA All-Star games and was named to the All-Defensive First Team six times. In 14 NBA seasons, he scored 15,535 points (a 14.1 points-per-game average) and averaged 17.3 points in 180 playoff games.

Video Games Rule

Bob Jingle and I play alot of video games, and more than once over past three or so years that I have lived in Brooklyn, we have debated with other members of our circle of friends about the benefits of playing video games. (Note: I was going to link an blog entry by Mr. Jingle here, but I cannot find where he blogge about it. GOD DAMN IT.) Well, it appears that we were on to something because per the article and link below, it appears that surgeons who play video games not only get there dork in another area of their lives other than the practice of medicine, but also appear to be able to rule at surgery.

Surgeons may err less by playing video games
Three hours a week decreased mistakes by 37 percent, study finds

All those years on the couch playing Nintendo and PlayStation appear to be paying off for surgeons. Researchers found that doctors who spent at least three hours a week playing video games made about 37 percent fewer mistakes in laparoscopic surgery and performed the task 27 percent faster than their counterparts who did not play video games.

And on that note, here is a creepy picture of some old dude playing video games and smiling a little happily for my tastes. What are the odds that he molested this little kid after he got to level 10 on find Grandpa's Balls, a choose your own adventure game for Xbox 360? Creepy...

Celebrity Death Pool

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A Settlement Has Been Reached

My trial settled this morning before I started selecting a jury. This is a common occurrence, settlement right before trial, because much like poker, plaintiff's attorneys often bluff right up until the time of trial in hopes that they can squeeze more money out of the defendants. In this case, we threw in an extra $2500 on top of our previous $7500 that we had put on the case. In theory that means that the bluffing worked but in reality, the extra $2500 means very little. This is because this settlement in this case after all the fees have been paid will probably mean that the plaintiff sees less than 3000 of the actual settlement and that the plaintiff's attorney barely covers the cost of the time they put into this case. So for all that time and money, there is very little pay out and really makes you question the tactic of letting such a low value case go on for over six years as it would have been more profitable to get rid of this thing a lot earlier in process. Of course, attorneys are some of the dumbest people I know so this is not surprising in the least.

The good news is that with the case being settled, I have the next couple of days to make sure I continue to update this bad boy. I have some ideas in my head so come back here later today or tomorrow, and I should have something new posted.

Now off to write.

Tolerance

Thanks to Tim Hardaway for demonstrating that ignorance and outright stupidity is alive and well in the United States.... The following was his response to being asked by Sports radio personality, Dan LeBatard, how he would deal with having a gay teammate.

"You know, I hate gay people, so let it be known," Hardaway said. "I don't like gay people and I don't like to be around gay people. I am homophobic. I don't like it. It shouldn't be in the world or in the United States."

Hey Champ, why don't you sit the next few plays out, ok? I realize that people still think this way, and I am not so naive as to believe that this type hatred will ever be eradicated from society. However, it still shocks me when opinions like this one are voiced in such a mainstream setting without even a hint of concern or sense of responsibility as to what they are saying. Furthermore, I am not trying to say that people cannot have their own views but to rise to the level of saying I "hate" a certain group of people and then stating that they should not exist on this Earth is just plain lunacy and deserves condemnation.

Further, it's equally shameful that today after making those comments, Hardaway has of course come out, apologized, and stated, "Yes, I regret it. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said I hate gay people or anything like that that was my mistake." I love when people do use this type of nest day apology crap as if a simple apology will suddenly make us forget the comments of the day before. I cannot wait for the next step where he blames alcohol, Jesus, or the fact that he was picked on as a child as his excuse for comments and then enters rehab. I think that it is time that we stop giving athletes, celebrities, and other public figures a free pass on their comments and then almost immediate quest for reconciliation. As such, I think that Mr. Hardaway from this day forward should not be referred to as former-NBA player Tim Hardaway, but instead should be labeled with the phrases that he chose to use to discuss gay people. As a result, I present to you, "Homophobe and Hater of the Gay Community," Tim Hardaway.

Good Call

To every weather man, who told me last night that the storm would probably amount to nothing here in the City, FUCK YOU. Seriously, do you people go to school for this stuff or what? At what point did you want to include the fact that the City would get 3 inches of snow, topped off with ice, then more snow, and now more snow...(instead of reporting less than an inch with rain all day today.) Oh and thanks for telling us about the blinding sleet needles that were falling this AM. What a useless profession!!! Atleast, I got to watch one of you d-bags take a digger last night live on CBS 2 News... I hope you broke your arm...

Valentine's Day Massacre

Well, it's 11 AM, and I am glad to say that I made it to work today. I cannot begin to tell you the amount of courage that it took to get out of bed this morning, throw on those shoes, and take the old subterranean way here because if you haven't heard, New York City later this afternoon is about to get hit with a MAJOR, CATASTROPHIC snow storm... the type of storm that may cripple this thriving metropolis... with its projected 2-4 inches of possible accumulation.

Yes, you read that correct as last night every news station in New York City lead with a story about the threat of the coming major storm that at its most recent projections is going to drop 2-4 inches of snow on the City. No, this storm is not going to drop 10-12 feet like the eight days of snow did in Upstate New York nor is it going to even drop a foot. Instead, the media has invoked its Storm of the Century 24 hour coverage for something that back in the day would not even have been mentioned on an evening news broadcast, but now becomes the entire focus of the broadcast.

Sadly, this phenomena is not limited to the over reactive media of New York City as I have caught similarly over the top broadcasts while visiting the motherland of Connecticut. It wasn't always like this, however, as I remember the days when the weather was simply a two minute segment right before sports that on the very rarest of occassions would lead off the broadcast if a storm threatened to dump a significant amount of snow on the area or there was a friggin' hurricane about to hit. Needless to say, it appears that this type of shock forecasting is here to stay as weatherman and their complicit news stations are now engaged in a nightly game of one-ups-manship to see who can make the craziest predictions about the weather. This endless competition to be the first to call the end of mankind leaves the viewers to helplessly discern what actually will happen during a storm and at that same time plants the seed to watch this continuous coverage in case the worst possible outcome becomes a reality.

But fear not my readers, I will not leave you to rely on the maniacs to tell you what to expect in the next forty-eight horus. Instead, I will remain here at Rain Delay Storm Watch Headquarters for the remainder of the day and atleast until 5 PM to give you my faithful readers updates on the progress of the storm along with any new predictions I can find from the local media to better assist you with preparing for the apocalypse.

Bridge to WHAT?

Recently, I saw the preview for the new Disney-made film version of the book, Bridge to Terabithia, by Katherine Paterson. The preview appears to be heavy on teasing potential film goers with amazing images of the imaginary world of Terabithia that the two main characters, Jesse Aaron and Leslie Burke, create in the woods near their houses. (For those that want a refresher on the plot, it's here.)

Needless to say, it appears from the preview that Disney has disney'ed the shit out of this film, and by doing so, they have created a story that appears to be more about the fantasy world and less about the one thing that I remember to this day from reading this book back in elementary school... and that is, THE GIRL FRIGGIN' DIES WHEN SHE FALLS OFF THE BRIDGE, SMACKS HER HEAD, AND DROWNS... SHE DIES GOD DAMMIT... I have no memories of a fantasy world or the fun times had there. Instead all I remember is that little plot twist with that poor girl in the water drowning. I mean I played in the woods, there was water, there were rocks in the water, and there were trees over that water with the rocks... I could picture it man cause I lived it... I WAS IN THE SHIT...

And so, I don't have memories of the fantasy world that they created, which presently, sounds a lot more like a clever cover up that they invented to hide the fact that they were engaging in some weird pre-pubescent sex shit in those woods. Whatever was going on out there, I remember none of it instead I am left with a solitary vision of a floating corpse. So maybe, I will go and see Disney's new take on the book that has scarred me for these many years. And then hopefully through the magic of Disney, my memories of that fateful fall will be replaced with happier thoughts filled with images of unicorns, dragons, Goofy, Donald, and Mickey and Minnie getting it on somewhere on a rocky ledge in the kingdom of Terabithia.

A Contest Between Gentlemen

As I get older, my body is slowly but surely transformed from years and years of drinking the suds from that of a former Division I athlete to that of a coach potato. As a result, articles of clothing stop fitting as favorite t-shirts seem shorter as they try to extend over my belly edging scarily towards becoming half shirts and jeans take a little more effort to put on to fit over my giant ass and legs.

Sadly, with the weight gain of aging, the motivation to start to reverse the years of imbibing tends to be lacking as results are slow to come by since my metabolism is no longer the chipper little lad of my youth. Instead, I can no longer simply think about losing weight and do it, it actually requires work, which means I have to exercise and watch what I eat. And while, I enjoy working out, the second part of that equation is the part that I kind of have a problem with since I really enjoying drinking some beers and eating good food.

And so, drastic times call for drastic measures, and that is why today, I proposed a contest, a challenge of sorts, between myself and fellow blogger, Bob Jingle, where we will have a race to be the first one to lose twenty pounds, which would put me right at my fighting weight from my first year of law school of 190 or so. Now, the details have not really been worked out.. as we have not figured out the reward although proposals like a Luger Steak or 500 dollars have been discussed. Nor have we picked a start date or hammered out any of the rules such as a rule against starving yourself in order to win.

And so maybe, this whole thing will just end up being another Monday morning lament between Bob Jingle and I about how we hate our jobs, how fat we are, and how we cannot figure out what to do with the rest of our lives... As such, even though all of this all is very preliminary at this juncture, I will be sure to keep you posted if we get closer to this challenge becoming a reality. Further if any of you out there have any ideas on rules, rewards, or ways to make this challenge a reality, please feel free to drop a comment and let me know....

Recovering Slowly

As I get older, it becomes harder and harder to get over a hard night of drinking. I mean I am not as hungover the day after as I used to be in college or law school mainly because I no longer smoke a pack of cigarettes in addition to ingesting 10-15 beers. But still, I remain a bit off for a good day or two these days where I am just not as sharp as I am on a regular, which is not really that sharp actually pretty dull kind of like a butter knife. (I just used a butter knife reference, I think that proves my point on how retarded I am the day after a night of carousing...)

Anyway, last night's events featured a Dirty 30th Birthday for Bob Jingle's wife where the drinks were all vodka based. As a result, I am now straining to put together a coherent thought as the remaining members of the Russian Army to find their way out of my system. (What ever the fuck that means.) As such, I am left sitting here in my numbed state trying to write and then, spend the remainder of my time screaming at another brutal performance by the UConn Husky Basketball team.

(God they are pathetic! I mean how the fuck can a team play three quarters of season and still look like they have never played a game of organized basketball in their life. I think its time just to admit that the players they recruited are just not cutting it when it comes to playing anything that resembles UConn basketball. After the season, Jim Calhoun needs to just sit them down, thank them for their time, and ask them to not return next season. This not pretty folks.)

Anyway, I have 11 more minutes of suckitude to watch...

My Office Space Existence

From the movie, Office Space:

Bob Slydell: You see, what we're actually trying to do here is, we're trying to get a feel for how people spend their day at work... so, if you would, would you walk us through a typical day, for you?
Peter Gibbons: Well, I generally come in at least fifteen minutes late, ah, I use the side door - that way Lumbergh can't see me, heh heh - and, uh, after that I just sorta space out for about an hour.

Bob Porter: Da-uh? Space out?

Peter Gibbons: Yeah, I just stare at my desk; but it looks like I'm working. I do that for probably another hour after lunch, too. I'd say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work.
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As I sit here on this lovely February afternoon in my office sipping a Tall Boy, I have come to realize that more and more my life is slowly becoming very much like that of Peter Gibbons from the movie, Office Space filled with a lack of inspiration or motivation. As I have mentioned before, I am a trial attorney, which means that every week I basically pick a jury, open a case, try the case, close the sucker down, and wait for a verdict. If my case ends early in the week, I get a new one for the next week and start the whole process all over again. (Lather, rinse, repeat) Trials can be fun if that is what you want to do with your life, and yes there is a rush that comes with a getting a verdict but once again, that is only if this is what you want to do with your life.

For the last couple of weeks, however, I have not had a trial assigned to me since we have hit a lull in my office. As a result, I have started to find other ways to spend my time while at work such as reinvigorating this blog and surfing the web for porn. However, it has become readily apparent to me that slowly but surely whether I have a trial or not I am going to become Peter Gibbons because I just don't have the necessary desire, drive, or motivation to put any effort into this hapless job.

And I know its going this metamorphisis is going to happen because it already has started... I mean this week is a perfect example...

Monday-- Day after Super Bowl-- Called in sick.

Tuesday-- Contemplated calling in sick, but realized I had a basketball game with the office team that even so instead went to work around 10:30 when I am supposed to be there at 9. Minimal amount of work done. Considered doing more work but realized there is no point to doing any work.

Wednesday-- Arrived at work relatively early i.e. 9:30. Conducted a deposition and then took the rest of the day off to write.

Thursday-- Arrived at work a little before noon, went to lunch at 1, and failed to do a thing for the remainder of the day other than find out Anna Nicole died and then wrote about it.

Friday-- Got here around 9:40. Spent the remainder of the day surfing the web, sending links of articles to my friends, writing, and gchatting. I did do work for one hour because the big boss from Manhattan came to inspect us. After he left, I proceeded to crack a beer and write this thing.

Actually from that summary, I have a pretty easy/hooked up existence, but the problem is that I want to be challenged. I wanted to be motivated. I want to work hard. I don't want to become Peter Gibbons. This is not the life I aspired to have. I am tired of frittering it away.

I want to dance....

INFIDELS!!!

Thanks to the detective work of the my good friend Andrew of "Nobody Listens to Andrew" fame, I found out today that my old blog site, www.angryfornoparticularreason.blogspot.com, has been hijacked by spammers.

As a result, no longer do you get an error when you go there, but are instead met with a variety of spam links for the topic of "drafts sportscenter." There are ten links there that seem to run the spectrum from Sports Center highlights to debt consolidation, which actually is an ironic snapshot of my life. I feel partially responsible for the old site's fate as I never imagined that my simple change to a shorter easier-to-type name would result in such a quick demise for the my other address. Sorry old friend, I never meant for that to be your fate. And so, I promise to hunt down the bastards that did this to you, and publicly execute them on this site filming it all on a cell phone that will most likely be snuck in Savage or Bob Jingle. THEY WILL PAY... AS GOD AS MY WITNESS, THEY WILL PAY!!!

Anna Nicole Smith is Dead

And I just won my celebrity death pool....

Seriously, for a day in which I have done no work and have been questioning my future with my current employer, this little breaking news story has created quite the stir throughout my universe of gchatting friends and coworkers. I guess my take since you care is that when combine lot of pills, depression, the death of a son, which you may or may not have had a part in, and rapid weight loss/gain/loss, you are not exactly the healthiest person in the world and are probably on borrowed time. As well, you might have a little motivation to end it all in order to get away from the craziness that is your existence. And while it would have been easy to see this one coming, Anna Nicole seemed to have this crazy ability to remain alive even though she has been clearly under the influence of a veritable cocktail of narcotics for decades now.

Rest in Peace Anna... you defied the law of averages for years... you crazy stripper.

No Spitting Allowed

I spend most of my day in my office at work listening to Sirius Satellite Radio. The irony is that for the most part, the radio is tuned to ESPN radio, which can be tuned in on free radio throughout the country. Thus, proving once again that I am not the smartest person in the world and the most fiscally responsible.Anyway, since I listen to approximately six to seven hours of sports radio a day, I get to hear all the random stories that occur in the sports world each day. And that is exactly how I came to find out about this little nugget out of China.

Apparently, the country that willl be hosting the 2008 Summer Olympics has banned spitting in public for the upcoming games. (Read about how exactly the Chinese Government is destroying the country's artifacts andd past in order build the venues for the Olympics here.) Further, anyone that does spit will be fined 50 yuan, which is the daily income of a Chinese college graduate.

Fines for spitting? I know the Chinese Government likes to be in everyone's biznass all the time as exemplified by their whole belief in a lack of human rights protections or the fact that they tortured the shit out of Jack Bauer. But what is fining people for spitting really going to do? How are they going to enforce it? Can you pay the fine on the spot? Can you contest the spitting fine? (I bet the answers to all of those questions involve a small dark room where the offender ends up with electricity surging through your body while standing in a bucket of water.)

As for me, I will now have to cross off going to China for the time being because throughout my life, I have been someone who spits. (insert blowjob joke here) Even when people request me not to spit, I cannot stop myself from spitting. I am a spitter what can I say... I spit, it's what I do. As a result, I will not let the Chinese Government dictate my life and tell me when or where I can spit. So take that China, I am going to stay here in these United States where a man can spit on his own terms even if its into a mighty wind that propels it back into his own face.

For more on the spitting ban and its companion ban, the no cutting in line ban, check out this article from the Boston Herald.

No longer a face to go with the words?

Sorry guys,

I started doing trials recently, and as much as I would enjoy a potential juror to be able to find me via picture or name, I realize that for my own professional well being it is time to go sans picture and name for the near future. So here we go, Rain Delay is the name, and I will just continue to plug along writing, hating, and boring you as much as possible.

Darkness is my freedom.