How About Some More Crap You Can Read?

Here you can read about crap, stuff, or whatever you want to call whatever I write.

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

(Tell Me Why!) I Don't Like Tuesdays After A Three-Day Weekend

I’m kinda bummed. Not that the three-day weekend is over (which has me exhausted, by the way). It’s because I just found out that millionaire/heiress/skank Paris Hilton is engaged. And I have to add, engaged to a guy named Paris (not a Carl’s Jr. hamburger as first reported). And that is fitting since it’s pretty obvious that she’d marry herself if she could. I’m sure her marriage will be as successful as her sister’s, who I think was married for about four months. So now that she is officially “off the market”, I guess I need to focus on other things. Like what to get the Parises for a wedding present. Because I’m pretty sure my idea of a night-vision video camera has already been taken by someone else. Probably that guy from Sum 41.

Happy Birthday Potsie even though you don’t read this.

The weekend was okay. Friday night we taped the woodwork, fixtures, mirrors, and ceiling in preparation of our weekend of painting. On Saturday, we began the painting process until the boy woke up. We also took a nice walk to the park, where the boy spent about an hour on the swing. After that, I worked at the soccer game, where the home team won and which had a “fireworks spectacular” following it. Let me tell you, it was quite spectacular, like all fireworks displays are after you turn twelve and when it’s not really that dark outside. Sunday was more painting, followed by a trip to the cemetery and to Dos Reales with the in-laws. Yesterday we went over to Doncock’s house, were he grilled out and played washers. I’m not 100% on this, but I think I went one and fifteen in washers. I’m not very good. At all. And the one win was against a pregnant lady and a woman who said she’d never played before, and the game was pretty close. After that, we came home, my wife gave my son a bath where he decided he would take a crap in the tub (the second time in a row he’s done so), and we peeled off the tape in the bathroom before going to bed. And now I’m here at work and really fucking tired. Nice, huh?

I read that Bob Geldof has set up more Live Aid concerts which will take place in Philadelphia (where I’m sure Just Rose will be attending), Berlin, Paris, Rome, and London, which is a good thing as it’s for a good cause. The only reason I really mention this is that only recently have I become a fan of Geldof’s former band, the Boomtown Rats. I heard “I Don’t Like Mondays” on the radio, and heard a few clips on the radio and decided to buy a “Best of” album. But I’m really not sure how I should feel about admitting this though. I’m not sure if this should be a lame guilty pleasure or if it’s okay to like them. Their music is sort of like the punk bands of the late-1970s and early 1980s with more of a pop sound. And they are from Ireland, so I know my mom will be happy that I like them. But I also know that Geldof is kind of seen as dork now (at least from the impression I’ve gotten), and he’s even been knighted and has the “Sir” added to his name because of his Live Aid and Band Aid efforts since he quit the band and went solo. But really, to me, he’s more like a much less successful Sting than anything else: made great music and was cool when he was in a band, and pretty much does nothing for me musically since going solo (sorry, Silky D). Both also have taken up acting in movies and fighting for their certain causes, which I think makes them more similar. So I think I’ll stick to quietly liking the Boomtown Rats, and really not pay too much attention to Bob Geldof much. But really good cause though.

Well, have a great week. Check ya later!

Friday, May 27, 2005

I Hope The Other Keys Weren't For A Porshe!

When I’m tired and at work, there are few things that are more annoying to me than seeing an “Out of Order” sign on the men’s bathroom door. One is having a co-worker come up to me panicked about something that he did and wanting me to fix for him it right away, all before I’ve even logged into my computer. I’d like to at least sit down, check my emails, and have a sip of my C2 first, if that’s not too much to ask. But I guess it probably is, even if the work that he needs me to do needs to be done before 10 AM, not 8:15 AM like he’s acting like it does. Oh well, at least there’s a three-day weekend coming up. One filled with painting and yard work! I can’t fucking wait!

This is pretty funny, compliments of my pal Dahl-beeyotch. I just kinda like the name Eat ‘n Park, and I wish they had one around here. Good luck, Bo!

Last night at volleyball was not the best. I wasn’t feeling tip-top, but I did try pretty hard. Not that it mattered, as I had no energy and probably played the worst I’ve played in a while. But that’s not the interesting part. After the match, my brother-in-law Doncock went to tell the people working there our scores, turn in the volleyball, and get his keys back. The first two things went as planned, but when they gave him the keys, they were the wrong ones. So they went back up there and told them that they gave him the wrong keys, and the kid behind the counter said, “You turned in ball #45, and I gave you the keys that were in that slot.” He and my wife responded that they understood that, but they weren’t his keys. The guy then said, “I don’t know what to tell you. Those are the keys for that ball.” After again saying that they weren’t his keys, they suggested to the guy that maybe someone put his keys in the wrong slot. Well, that was a ridiculous statement, because they wouldn’t do something like that. The cunt manager came out and acted like they were trying to pull a fast one on her. Instead of saying something logical like, “Oh, I’m sorry. We must have made an error and gave your keys to someone else,” she said, “You guys are always rushing these guys when you check in. You need to not rush them.” Well, that might have been the case except we were all running late, and when Doncock checked in, there wasn’t anyone else around. Then she said, “You guys need to keep better track of your ball!” That also might have had some validity to it if we didn’t play all six of our games with that ball, which we did. I wasn’t standing too close to all this going on, but I know that the cunt manager kept going on blaming Doncock for the mishap and not even once considering that maybe possibly they gave his keys to the wrong person. Anyway, we sat by the counter for about ten or fifteen minutes waiting to see if someone would notice that they had wrong keys. Eventually this guy came over, said that his teammate picked up his keys for him and grabbed the wrong set, which were Doncock’s, and handed them to him. They guy was cool, and they exchanged keys and we left. But not before Doncock, his wife, and my wife found the cunt manager and told her that they did indeed give his keys to the wrong person. She never even apologized, not for handing his keys to the wrong person, accusing him of making the mistake, or for being a nasty snatch. Doncock’s wife then asked, “So are you the manager?” The cunt manager responded, “Yes.” Then Doncock’s wife said, “That too bad!” and left. So, I guess we won’t be playing volleyball there anymore.

Well, I hope you have a great Memorial Day weekend. Mine will be chock full o’ fun, I’m sure. Take it easy.

Thursday, May 26, 2005

Waste of Skin University

Wow! What an upset! I can’t believe Liverpool came back from a 3-0 halftime deficit to beat A.C. Milan in the UEFA Championship in penalty kicks! Amazing! Oh, you thought I was talking about the “American Idol” karaoke contest. Sorry. Apparently that was a big upset too. I was working, so I didn’t see the big finale, but I guess it was a big shock that the girl beat the long-haired druggie. Congrats! And good luck making all your albums that I won’t buy or ever listen to. Well, I have to be honest. I saw a few moments of the show, which I thought were worth noting (I should have taken off work and done a running diary, I know). My wife showed me that Hasselhoff was on there, and that’s pretty sweet. I couldn’t tell if he was drunk yet or not, but odds are pretty good that he was. Also, I saw that the girl who won was wearing a blazer made out of the same fabric as my grandma’s old couch. That was pretty hot. I wonder if it still had my grandma’s old stink on it. And I saw that they drug out William Hung too. That was great. Is it me is does his head seem bigger and bigger every time you see it? It’s fucking huge, and this is from a guy with a 7 5/8 hat size. He looks like he should be lined up between Woody Woodpecker and Underdog in Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Well, I guess you will all have to wait another seven months for the next season, although it appears that this summer they will have some dance-off type shows for your pleasure, which I’m sure will rock. And I really want to try out to be the new singer of INXS, which will be on a show cleverly titled “RockStar: INXS”. Although I’m a little concerned about the whole belt-around-my-throat-while-masturbating portion of the contest. That and the fact that I don’t really like INXS at all. Besides that, I’d love to try out for it.

You thought that Trump University was a dumb name (okay, I did, maybe not so much you), but I saw that Toby Keith’s new album is called “Honkytonk University”. Seriously. I guess he’s jumped a little off the patriot-themed stuff, because I would have expected “Freedom University” or “College of True Americans” instead. Maybe he ran that well dry. But I think that the last school I’d ever want to go to would be one called “Honkytonk University”. Even “Sodomite College” sounds more appealing. I was trying to figure out what departments Honkytonk U would have. I know they’d have School of Trucks, although they might divide it into separate Schools of Ford Trucks, Chevy Trucks, and Dodge Trucks. There would have to be a Fashion School, with minors in Hat Wearin’ and Belt Buckle Polishin’. I’m sure there are upper-level courses in Widdlin’ and “How to Take a Tragic Event and Turn It into Money”, the latter being taught by Lee Greenwood. And I’m guessing the mascot would be the Saddam’s Ass-Kickers, because those t-shirts would sell like hot cakes at NASCAR events, Branson, and flea markets. Everyday I become more and more proud to be an American. A true American.

I fuckin’ can’t stand Toby Keith!

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Cheetos and Red Bull: Chaotic

Last night was Beer Night at the 75th Street Brewery, and we had a good time. I got a little drunker than I planned on, but I’m doing okay (thanks for asking). It was a pretty uneventful evening, although I did get to talk to a friend who is recovering from testicular cancer. I cringe just writing that. Anyway, he said he was doing better, which is great, but it was good chatting with him for a bit. I hope he kicked cancer.

Since I was out last night, and since I forgot about it last week, I haven’t seen any episodes yet of “Britney and Kevin: Chaotic”, but I did TiVo it last night. I’m looking forward to it. I hope to invent a drinking game with it. I’m thinking every time they show a can of Red Bull or a bag a Cheetos to take a drink, but I’ll have to decide after I watch it.

Someone needs to make up a song about Wednesdays and Thursdays. They kinda get the shaft. Just like those guy in the park they had that report on TV that I wrote about yesterday.

Speaking of that investigative report, I forgot one thing that I thought was funny about it. They were busting guys left and right, and then they showed one guy who was being interviewed. He was talking about why he does it or something, and they blurred out his face. But they showed his shirt which said “Budweiser” on it. I turned to my wife and asked her if she thought Budweiser was happy with that free publicity. I’m guessing they weren’t.

I’m tired and really have nothing else to say to you. I do have to work tonight at the stadium, so I guess I do have something to tell you. Even if it’s not that interesting. Anyway, I’ll talk to you later. Bye.

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Monday Nights With The Wife

Last night after the season finale of “24”, the local Fox station had this investigative report on about a public park where men go to pick up other men, usually during the lunch hour. There is a park by my house where supposedly gay guys go to have some hot gay sex, so we watched it to see if it was that park. Well, it wasn’t. It was some park closer to downtown, and it seemed like the main reason they were doing this whole sting operation was to “clean up” the area before this $80 million condo building is built more than because kids go to the park and they don’t want them trying to make balloon animals out of the used condoms. I mean, that would be my main concern, but apparently making sure that rich people don’t have a view of ball sacks slapping together outside of their condos is of greater concern. Anyway, when the story was done, my wife and I had the following conversation:

Wife: “What do you think those guys are paying for?”
Me: “What the fuck do you think they’re paying for?”
Wife (laughing): “No, I know that. I mean, do you think they pay to get or to give?”
Me: “I have no fucking idea. Probably dealer’s choice. I’m sure if they want to give, they pay to give. If they want to get, they pay for that.”
Wife: “You think they’d pay to take it in the ass?”
Me: “I don’t really know. I’m not really enjoying this conversation.”
Wife: “I think they’d pay to give it. I don’t know why they’d pay to take it.”
Me: “You know dear, I’m pretty sure that 95% of these encounters are for blow jobs. Just a guess. But I don’t know if they like sucking or being sucked better. I really also don’t care.”
Wife: “Really? I think they’d pay to give it to some guy in the ass. Hmm. I don’t know. Aren’t you glad that it’s not (the park by our house)?”
Me: “Yeah, because I don’t think I could ever go home or anywhere close to home for lunch anymore.”

So Donald Trump is opening up his own Trump University, which won’t be a two- or four-year university, but instead be online classes that aren’t even accredited. So basically, you pay for classes that supposed teach you things, although you get no credit for it. They haven’t really gone into much detail publicly about it, but I’ve gotten an advanced copy of the Trump University course catalog (I know, amazing, huh?). Here are some of the classes you can take in your on-going effort to be more Trump-like: “Real Estate”, “How to Make a Casino Go Bankrupt”, “Negotiating Like a Real Douchebag”, “How to Grow the Most Ridiculous-Looking Hair Ever”, “The Word ‘Huge’ and All its Uses”, “The Pre-Nup”, “Marketing Your Ego”, “The Art of Self-Importance”, “Beating a Dead Horse with Reality TV Ideas”, and “How to Come Up with Original Names for your Businesses, Casinos, Buildings, Universities, etc.” Good luck kids getting your learn on!

Buh-bye.

Monday, May 23, 2005

Sorry, Darlin'!

Quit fucking complaining already! I know it’s been a while since I updated this last. Get off my fucking back about it! Actually, last Thursday I stayed home as my son was sick. He had a temperature, but after some medicine, he was better and he acted fine the whole time. So I had a day to just play with him, which was really nice. On Friday when I got back to work, I was so busy playing catch-up that I just didn’t have time to write anything. After work it was just me and the boy as my wife had another baby shower to attend, so I had more fun with him. On Saturday, I went to the Parkville Brewers’ Festival with my wife, brother-in-law, sister-in-law, and Caddylac, and it was pretty cool. Nine different breweries were there, and it was $15 for all the five-ounce samples you wanted. I had my share, although not as many as you’d think (or I’d have had if I wasn’t driving). Surprisingly, I think my favorite beer from the place was a Blackberry Scottish Ale from the O’Fallon Brewery near St. Louis, which was odd since I don’t really like fruit beers. But it was tasty. We all had a pretty good time, even though it sounded like the bluegrass band was alternating from playing the main song from “O Brother, Where Art Thou” and the theme to “The Beverly Hillbillies”. After that, we just came home and called it a day. Yesterday was yard work day for me, but it was needed and I got a lot done. I cut down six little trees that had grown in my yard in places that they shouldn’t have, mowed, and picked up dog crap. After that, my wife bought a little pool for our son that he played in for a while, which was pretty fun. And that’s about the extent of my weekend.

I TiVo’d “Saturday Night Live” this weekend, and I watched it last night. It might have been the worst episode I’ve ever seen of it. First of all, Lindsay Lohan really needs to add back the 20 pounds that it’s been reported she lost. She looks gross. And the skits were all pretty unfunny. I don’t get it, because they have a lot of talented people on the show. They just need to work on the writing. I was really let down. Oh, and “The Prince Show” just isn’t funny anymore.

No, I haven’t seen the new “Star Wars” movie, and I don’t have any plans on seeing it anytime soon. Or at least not until I get my Chewbacca suit back from the dry cleaners.

(This one might get me in trouble at home) Note to all men out there: Never refer to your wife’s dog as a “cock blocker”! It doesn’t go over well.

July 10th is the premiere of “Surreal Life 5”, just so you know. Mark it now on your calendars.

Well, even though I didn’t write for a while, I don’t really have anything else to say. So….bye.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Fist Tickle Brick In!

I’m a little down today. You see, last night my wife went out with some people from her school (the one she graduated from), and got home around 9:15 PM or so. So she started watching “American Idol” (which she TiVo’d), and I, being the great husband that I am, decided to suffer through it and watch it with her. I told her I was doing it for two reasons: one, because I hadn’t seen her all day; and two, because I wanted to hear “Seacrest out!” at the end because it makes me laugh. So we watched the show, and my wife mentioned to me that ever since I wrote about it, they’ve been calling Vonzell “Vonzie” a lot (I fucking knew Seacrest was reading this!). I noticed that they said it several times too. Well, the show was rough for me, especially when the blonde sang that Air Supply song. I actually reclined on the couch and told my wife that I felt like I was about to get my teeth drilled in the dentist’s office. It was brutal, and I think that song is on every time I go to the dentist, which is probably why I don’t go every six months like I’m supposed to. I did actually laugh out loud once, when Paula told someone that they were “a gift”. They should release a condensed version of “American Idol” on cable with just Paula’s comments and showing her when she’s dancing during the singers’ performances. Because that shit is gold. (Ah, Gold. Remember her from “American Gladiators”? I loved her and I miss her. Er, sorry about that. I lost myself for a minute. Okay, I’m back.) So the show was going on and on and on, and after Vonzie, the two-time drug offender, and the blonde who looks like Lisa Marie Presley (to me, at least) were done, I was anticipating the highlight of the show. They showed all the numbers to call and text message, and as Seacrest was wrapping it all up, my wife stopped the show and erased it, right before “Seacrest out!” I was devastated. Absolutely devastated. That was a major part of what got me through the Dionne Warwick, Shania Twain, and the previously mentioned Air Supply crap. But then it was taken away from me like Macaulay Culkin’s anal virginity by Wacko Jacko. She apologized profusely, and I know that it’ll be said again tonight. But I just don’t think I can sit through all that again. The pain is just too much.

You know at first I really thought that the clip from yesterday’s entry was a porno movie scene. Instead, it was just an awesome video with great music, dancing, and lip-syncing. Consider that a gift from me.

That’s all I got. What more do you want? Is anyone even still reading this? Brick out!

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

Love Me That Wichita!

The weekend was pretty good. Caddylac and his wife picked me up around 10 AM on Saturday and we headed down I-35 to Wichita. We listened to Dave Attell’s “Skanks for the Memories” on the way down, and it was pretty damn funny. It took about two and a half hours to get down there, and it wasn’t that bad. Kansas highway driving is brutally boring, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be. Especially when I got to see billboards that read, “Accept Jesus Christ or Spend the Rest of Your Life Regretting It!” Because I think Jesus would truly appreciate a sign threatening people. We got down to Caddylac’s parent’s really nice house, after meeting King D just outside of the city limits. We changed clothes and headed out to Ron Mexico’s graduation. The graduation wasn’t too bad, as far as graduations go. Caddylac and I made a deal to try to be the loudest supporters in the arena for Ron when they read his name. It was tough though, because some people had air horns. The lady reading the names said Ron’s name wrong, but we still yelled pretty loud (even scaring the kids in front of us and hurting my voice). A few things about his graduation besides that were funny. One was the guy sitting behind us with the purple and pink pinstriped suit. Also, the President of Ron’s university’s name was Biff. President Biff. That’s pretty awesome. Also, one graduate had the first name Gator. I like that quite a bit. When the graduation ended, Caddylac, his wife (what a trooper, by the way), and I left to drive to Cheney, Kansas to go to the Hank Is Wiser Brewery, which had only been open for just over a month. It seemed like it just opened, as we were pretty much the only people there on a Saturday night. Anyway, the beer was okay, actually better than I expected it to be as all of them were drinkable, even if they weren’t like their names. The India Pale Ale wasn’t an India Pale Ale. Hank even admitted as much to Caddylac. But the place was nice, and they even had a shuffleboard, which I think is essential for all good bars/brewpubs and free popcorn. We stayed long enough to each order a sampler, a pint, and get four growlers to go (one each for Caddylac, King D, Ron Mexico, and me). We left Cheney and drove to meet Ron Mexico and his family at the River City Brewery in Old Town Wichita (King D went back home). Old Town Wichita seemed like a pretty cool place, and the brewery was nice too. Pretty big place. We went upstairs to “The Loft 150” were we met Ron’s family and Caddylac’s dad, as well as a few other people. River City was pretty good, and I had a sampler there as well as a couple of pints. I found it strange that River City didn’t have a Pale Ale, as I think it’s the only brewpub I’ve ever been to that didn’t. We stayed at the brewery until the band started playing. If that band would have been as good as this band, I’m sure we would have stayed longer. But they weren’t, so we headed back to Caddylac’s parents’ where we bullshitted until we fell asleep, which for me was like 11 PM. What a wild fucking bunch we are!!!

Sunday I woke up early 7:30 AM, but to my surprise I was the last one up. Caddylac and Ron were fishing in the back yard, while Caddy’s dad, Ron’s dad, and Caddy’s wife were in the kitchen. I felt like a loser, like I slept really late, but then I realized that it wasn’t even 8 AM so I didn’t care. We went to breakfast, and I had a cheddar cheese and buffalo sausage omelet. Mmmm….delicious buffalo sausage. After breakfast, Ron and his dad left, and we went back to the house and watched this movie I bought called “American Beer”. It’s a documentary about five guys who start out in Brooklyn and travel to 38 breweries/brewpubs in 40 days, each night getting pretty drunk. It was an interesting movie in regards to the small breweries’ history and brewing process, and it’s interesting seeing these guys gain a bunch of weight and deal with their hangovers. The only problem with the movie is that it has the “Blair Witch Project” style of shaky camera work, so if you get motion sickness (like I do) you might not feel so good. Especially watching it on a huge projection screen. When the movie ended we left to come back home and listened to David Cross on the car ride, which is pretty funny when you see all the “Jesus Saves” signs along the highway (he’s not the most religious person, you see). We got back around 3 PM, and my wife left to run errands. And that was pretty much my weekend.

Yesterday I found out that my bathroom should be finished today, which means that I’ll get to use my good, downstairs shower from now on! Woo hoo!!! I’m pretty excited, as it’s been awhile, like five and a half weeks. It hasn’t been awhile for showering. I’ve done that a couple of times since then. Really! So have a good day, and I’ll talk to you later.

Monday, May 16, 2005

Fridays With Skippy

So on Friday, we had a team “meeting” at Old Chicago at 2 PM, as our manager is going to another group. Well, the out-going manager has only been my manager for about a month and a half or so, and I’d only met with her once. So really, it’s not a big deal to me that she’s leaving, although having a so-called meeting at a bar at 2 PM on a Friday is a lot more appealing to me than sitting at my cubical. At Old Chicago, I was the first person from my part of the group (those who work in my building) to show up, and I got there at 2:30. I was surprised, because I left later since I was working on an issue and figured that I’d be the last person there. The rest of the other part of the group were all there. Well, only about five people from my building showed up at all, so I got stuck sitting by the only person from the other building that I know, and then by the husband of the leaving manager, who I’ll call Skippy. That was a fucking treat! Here are comments made by Skippy that afternoon (and keep in mind that he was supposed to be his wife’s DD):

(With his wife/my manager sitting right next to him and sipping on a Captain and Coke) “A husband has to be an asshole to his wife, because if he isn’t, she’ll treat him like shit!”

(Keep in mind that my manager isn’t attractive and he’s telling me this with chew all over his teeth, while having his second Captain and Coke): “When you get older, she’ll be asking for it three times a week. And if you aren’t giving it to her, she’ll find someone else who will. She’s lucky though, because I give it to her every night!”

(After my wife and son left, as they stopped by for a few minutes as they were in the area) Skippy (drinking a 7 and 7): “I know why you had her come up her.”
Me: “Because I love her and my son and wanted to see them?”
Skippy: “No. Because you wanted to show all the girls here how good of a guy you are in case things go bad between you and her.”
Me: “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Skippy: “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about!”
(Also, let me make this clear about the women who were there when he said this to me. I think there were seven women total. Four of them are over 50 years old and 200 pounds each. Two are complete cunts, and when they were arguing about who ordered what appetizer physically reminded me of a “Jerry Springer Show” confrontation, pre-Steve coming out and breaking up their fight. Not very attractive. And the last one just isn’t pretty and bugs the shit out of me. So the last thing I would ever try to do is impress any of them, even if I were single, just out of prison, and ate a jar of green M&M’s. I promise you that.)

“I’m driven by money, and that’s all I really care about.”

“I was married to my last wife for 16 years, and I was the father to her kid, even though I found out that he wasn’t mine. So I got out of there, never looked back, and I partied like a mother-fucker for three straight years. That’s what you have to do.”

“I can tell you ain’t happy. I can just tell by the look on your face.” (This statement was actually pretty accurate at that point in the afternoon.)

“I love my wife, but when we were just dating, I dated and screwed a lot of other chicks. But when she told me that it was either her only or we were through, I proposed that night. That’s how much I love this woman.” (What a lucky lady!)

(In regards to Old Chicago’s “World Beer Tour”, where you get credit for drinking different beers): Skippy: “Man, you’re a sucker! How many beers did you get credit for on your card for that one?”
Me: “Um, I’m guessing one, but I haven’t tabbed out yet.”Skippy: “Sucker! I only got this one, and he gave me credit for four.”
Me (under-whelmed): “Wow man. That’s awesome.”
Skippy: “I just told the guy to give me credit for as many as he could, and he did.”
Me: “That’s awesome.”
Skippy: “You know why he did it?”
Me: “I honestly have no idea.”
Skippy: “Because I tipped him 50% on the beer. (Note: He bought a $3 Miller Lite draw and gave him $4.) You always got tip well, so they remember you, and then they’ll help you out like he did with those three extra beers he gave me credit for.”
Me: “Yeah, I’ll have to remember that.”
Skippy: “What do you usually tip?”
Me: “Well, I used to work jobs where I got tipped, so I usually tip well. It depends on the service, but I never tip less than 20%.”
Skippy: “That’s it? Shit! No wonder you only got one credit for the one beer.”
Me: “Well, I actually have a tab running and…”
Skippy: “I always tip 50%, no matter what. That way they’ll remember me, and next time I come in they’ll be fighting for my table.”
Me (thinking to myself that the teeth full of chew and the two spilled glasses will make them really clamor to serve him): “Yep. I’ll bet they won’t forget you for awhile.”

I’d go on, but that’s probably enough for one entry. I’ll write tomorrow about my weekend in Wicha-Wicha-Wichita! And how Hank is Wiser.

Friday, May 13, 2005

How Shocking!!!

I didn’t see last night’s episode, but I finally saw last week’s two episodes of “The O.C.”, and that show is getting really bad. Not funny/cheesy bad like it used to be. Just bad bad. I almost think that the writers are just trying to put the dumbest shit in to see if the producers will let it slip by, and the producers have been sleeping or working on a new show or something, because it’s making it to air. I think the writers are thinking, “Kirsten is getting too boring, so let’s make her an alcoholic. Trey hasn’t done anything bad in an episode and a half, so let’s get him high on coke and have him try to rape his brother’s girlfriend. Hey Seth waited his whole life to get with Summer, and after he blew it last year, let’s make him blow it again by going on an MTV-styled Spring Break show and lick whipped cream off a stranger so she can get money for college, and then have Summer watch it at that moment so she’ll make out with Zach.” Really, the only things good about this show lately have been the Julie Cooper porno movie and Sandy Cohen and his eyebrows. And with the exception of the time he kissed Kim Delaney, has there ever been a more likeable character on a TV show before than Sandy Cohen? I doubt it. But seriously, they need to improve the writing fast, because it is getting brutal.

Last night we were supposed to have volleyball, but we didn’t stay. The weather was pretty bad (the wind was blowing my car around the road when I was driving), and we decided to leave, even though the place didn’t call off the games, although they didn’t turn the lights on yet around the courts when we left. Our team was in the parking lot talking about whether or not to stay, and my wife said, “I’m not going to have any fun if we play!” To which Doncock jokingly replied, “Well, if (Mrs. Fisty) is refusing to have fun, then I guess we shouldn’t play.” Damn right!

I don’t watch “American Idol”, at least not once they get to Hollywood, but I’m pretty pissed that they don’t refer to Vonzell as “Vonzie”. I think that should be a rule. Fuckin’ bullshit!

I can’t watch this at my work computer, but this is hilarious: http://www.big-boys.com/articles/reptileattack.html

My wife’s “People” magazine had something on the cover about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes and how the fact that they are dating is “shocking”. Really, is that shocking? An older actor dating a younger actress is shocking? Humphrey Bogart was 25 years older than Lauren Bacall. Warren Beatty is 21 years older than Annette Bening. Michael Douglas is 25 years to the day older than Catherine Zeta-Jones. Cruise is only 16 years older than Holmes. Seriously “People”, how shocking is that? If he was dating Kathleen Turner or Debra Winger, that would be shocking. Unless the article states it’s shocking because they believe the “Tom Cruise is gay” rumors, then this isn’t shocking. But what do I know. I still think that he’ll never do better than when he was married to Mimi Rogers in the late 80s.

Well, have a great weekend. I’ll tell you all about the wacky Wichita adventures next time. Late!

Thursday, May 12, 2005

I Now Can Embrace Inclusion

Work has calmed down a little, so I just spent the morning taking a class regarding embracing inclusion. It was a required class, and it was chock full of typical corporate bullshit buzz words. And talented actors and actresses. I was going to take another class (that’s also required), but I think I can only handle one dose of crappy acting at a time. That’s why I won’t buy or even watch “The Partridge Family: Season One” DVD. That’d be overkill.

Why do stories about Sharon Stone still make it to news? Seriously. What has she done since “Casino”? Besides have her ex-husband get his toe bitten off by a kimono dragon, which is actually funny. Sure, I’m glad that some orphan got adopted by a rich person, but Sharon Stone is about as relevant now as Roseanne or Chevy Chase. So unless she’s got another millionaire husband that she’s sending into the monkey cage at the zoo, I don’t think anyone wants to hear about her. Am I wrong?

Dave Chappelle is one crazy dude!

I’m looking forward to this weekend. Caddylac, his wife, I, and I’m sure others are heading down to Wichita for Ron Mexico’s graduation (my lovely wife is on call and cannot join us). We’ll be going to a couple of brewpubs, which should be cool. I’ve only driven through and never hung out in Wichita, but I can only imagine the wondrous things that go on in such a splendid town. Wichita. It just sounds like a magical utopia. I hope another one of my friends will graduate soon too, and maybe I’ll be able to make a trip to Topeka, Springfield, or even Des Moines. Although that might be a little too much excitement for me. I probably could have handled those places (maybe) when I was in my early twenties, but not now as a 30-year-old father. Wichita will probably be pushing it, but I’ve gotta go and support my Latin pal. Plus, did I mention that there are two brewpubs we’ll be going to? Yeah, Graduate!

Have a fantastic fucking day!

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Most Exciting News In Years!!!

ESPN is getting lamer by the day. Last night they had on a new show called “Teammates”. The premise of the show is exactly like “The Newlywed Game”, except the contestants aren’t married couples but teammates from a major sport (or the WNBA). I honestly only saw about two minutes of it, because their version of Bob Eubanks is the ever-charismatic Stuart Scott, quite possibly the most annoying person ever to have been on television for an extend period of time (including Jim Belushi and Susan Powter). He just sucks. Anyway, part of me wants to watch the show, just in case someone says a comment like that one lady who in response to the question, “Where is the weirdest place you’ve made whoopee?” responded, “In the ass.” Because I’m pretty sure that would come from someone on the Minnesota Vikings.

Click on this site for the most exciting news ever! It’s almost too good to be true. Eighteen extra minutes!!! Kick ass!!! I’ll be camping out at Best Buy on June 6th.

Do they really think that King Tut wore that much eyeliner? The Greeks were pissed at Oliver Stone for making Alexander the Great appear gay, so how outraged do you think the Egyptians are going to be after seeing that? And another thing, I had no idea that it was King Tut who was in “The Crying Game”. I might have watched it if I knew that.

Um….I guess that’s it for today.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

I'm Asking You Since Ann Landers Died Three Years Ago

Renee Zellweger got married yesterday to country music guy and Rob Deer idol Kenny Chesney. I had no idea they were dating, or that there was a country music singer named Kenny Chesney. I don’t really have a problem with this as some of you might think. First of all, Zellweger doesn’t do it for me. Sure, I think she’s a pretty good actress, but she’s a little too squinty for my tastes. Secondly, I don’t care who country music singers marry, as long as it’s not one of my friends so I don’t have to go to their concerts as I probably would feel obligated to (read: my wife would make me go to). All that is fine. I hope they have a great marriage and they are happy. The only thing I really have a problem with is a 37-year-old guy going by the name of Kenny. I see “Kenny” as an 80-year-old bingo player at the retirement home or a five-year-old in a sandbox. Not a guy married to an Oscar winner. That just doesn’t seem right to me.

So Affleck had sexual intercourse with Jennifer Garner and impregnated her. Hmm…interesting. Since she’s three months along now and reportedly been engaged for two months, I wonder if he felt obligated to get propose. Probably not, since he’s been engaged at least twice before, but it makes you wonder. At least makes me wonder. Do you think millionaires feel the pressure to get married when they get someone pregnant like the 17-year-old Piggly Wiggly clerk in Arkansas who gets knocked up by the 40-something thrice-divorced YooHoo deliveryman does? I wouldn’t think so, but I have no idea. Really, I just think Affleck likes to propose. He’s a propose addict. That’s my theory.

Is it just me or does the Michael Jackson trial seem to be taking longer than the O.J. trial? All I know is that when and if he is convicted, he’s going to pull a Roman Polanski. No, not have sex with a 13-year-old girl! That’s ridiculous! I just feel that he’ll fly off to Argentina or France or something. Which would almost be okay with me, just as long I don’t have to hear or read anymore about his games of “Rubba-Rubba” or giving kids “Jesus Juice” so he could take advantage of them. Because that’s vomit-inducing to me, and I’m afraid that people will start thinking I’m bulimic. Well, except for the fat stomach thing.

I need some advice, although it’s for hindsight purposes. Pretend you have two friends who don’t hang out much with one another. Friend A doesn’t like Friend B for some reason, but says not to say anything to him since they deal with one another occasionally. You have heard someone else mention to you a similar perception of Friend B that Friend A has, even though you don’t think that reason is true. You tell Friend A that he/she just doesn’t know Friend B that well to understand that he’s just trying to be funny and isn’t really like what Friend A thinks he is. Friend A says something like, “Whatever! It gets really old and annoying. That’s why I don’t hang out with you guys more often.” What do you do?

A. Say and do nothing. It’s not really your problem.
B. Tell Friend B that some people perceive him/her a certain way, and maybe it’s something he/she should think about, but don’t tell him who said it since you told Friend A that you wouldn’t.
C. Tell Friend B that Friend A thinks he’s annoying and gets on his nerves.
D. Murder both friends so that you won’t have to deal with this again.

I chose D., er, I mean B. In hindsight, I should have chose A, because now Friend B is pissed at me for not saying who said it, although if I were Friend B I would rather know what people think of me more than who said it. I’m just curious what you think. Thanks.

Have a great F’in’ day!

Monday, May 09, 2005

I Should Just Leave The Comedy Stuff To Tom Rhodes

How’s it going? I’m doing okay. It was kind of a busy weekend. Friday after work we had a graduation happy hour at Old Chicago for Ron Mexico, which was good. Saw a lot of people that I hadn’t seen in a while, and I talked to this girl in my group about the shit that’s gone down in my group lately. It was good, because I found out some crap that was interesting. I thought she was really good friends with the dude who was the one who forwarded my old website emails to the supervisor which caused me to end it, and apparently he’s said some shit about her behind her back too. So a lot of people are sick of him too (it’s not just me as I thought) and he’s saying shit about others, which shows a lot about him. I also found out he was pissed at me because I wrote about people who only shit in the private bathroom as he is one of them. Pretty funny. Anyway, I stayed there for a couple of hours, brought home dinner home, and pretty much called it a night.

On Saturday I was in bed until 10 AM, although I didn’t sleep well at all. I got up and didn’t do much except mop the floor and play with my son before going to work. Work was okay, although it’s still soccer. After the game I was invited to a graduation party for my friend Timmy. There weren’t a lot of people there, but I did get to talk to my pal Snydy who I hadn’t really talked to in a while. I also talked a bit with Timmy and my friend Erin too. The party was at this gay couple’s house, and it was a really nice house. It was kinda like I expected it to be: really clean. In fact, one point in the evening I mentioned to Timmy how tidy the garage was. It was cleaner than my kitchen. Seriously, and I had even just mopped it. Anyway, I actually had a lot of fun just talking with people and ended up staying later than I expected.

Sunday was a pretty nice day. Woke up early with the kiddo, and we played for a few hours. The weather was really nice in the morning, so we went on the swing for about a half hour. He probably would have stayed there for another two hours if I’d let him. Boy loves the swing. Eventually, my wife woke up, we gave her her Mother’s Day presents and I went out to mow. After that, I showered, ran a few errands, and finished cleaning the house as we were hosting my wife’s family for Mother’s Day. Dinner was good, especially considering that I grilled out the chicken and shrimp and it was actually edible and no one got severely sick (at least as far as I know). Everything else was really good, which is the norm since I wasn’t the one cooking it. It was a pretty good evening, and no one was seriously injured. I only had minor injuries. Apparently skewers on the grill get really hot and I shouldn’t grab them with my bare hand. I’m a genius.

I’m not much of a “pun” guy. I usually leave that for my in-laws and the “Sex and the City” writers. But the other day when were at Old Chicago, we were talking about Ron Mexico’s graduation this coming weekend, and someone asked, “Who’s going to Wichita?” I responded, “I am, and I know the White Stripes are too.” I don’t really even know if that is considered a pun, and I know a lot of you don’t get the joke and that the joke isn’t really even all that funny. But people gave me the weirdest looks when I said that. Not like a groaning “Uh, that was a bad joke, Jackass!” looks. Just puzzled looks. I think it’ll be best if I just keep my mouth shut from now on.

I need some assistance. At the stadium, they play movie clips with singing and/or dancing in them at halftime and other breaks in the action. Pretty much the only clips are from “Animal House”, “The Blues Brothers”, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”, and now “Napoleon Dynamite”. I was hoping that some of you could put some examples in the comments of other movies that have that. People have thought of “Can’t Buy Me Love” and “Grease” too, so if you have any others for me, please let me know. I would appreciate it. So until tomorrow, take care of yourselves.

Friday, May 06, 2005

I Made Myself Even More Of A Jerk Over Nothing!

Sorry I haven’t written much lately, but I’ve been pretty busy at work. I hate letting you all down, but I had to get shit done. Anyway, I think it’ll be this way for a while, but I hope to still write for you bastards and bee-yotches.

Wanna know how pathetic of a loser I am (in case you don’t already know)? The other day I wrote that I might have a funny story for you on Thursday. Well, I didn’t, as I didn’t even write anything for you. Anyway, here was my thought going into Wednesday: We were supposed to go hang out with my wife’s friend from college, her husband, and a bunch of their friends. Well, I really like my wife’s friend and husband a lot. They are really cool and nice. But so far the friends haven’t really done much for me. It’s not that they’re jerks or anything (they’re actually pretty nice), but apparently I’m the most forgettable person in the world, because every time I meet them, at least a couple of them always say, “Nice to meet you,” to me, which wouldn’t be so bad if I hadn’t met them several times before. And it wasn’t like I had only just met them at huge keg parties either. One of the guys is a really nice guy who had acted like he never met me before, when I had met times that I think would be easy to remember, plus he knows my wife, and I’ve been with her for almost nine years now! One time was at my wife’s friend’s wedding, when I was the only non-bridal party member to ride the bus from the hotel to the church (because my wife incorrectly told me that was the only time it was going there) and I sat and bullshitted with all the groomsman on the bus and at the church while they were taking pictures. I think not being in the party and being on the bus and hanging out with everyone who was having their pictures taken would have made me a little noticeable. I also met him at a party in Denver with their friends where I had talked to him for a while. This was the guy who was getting with one of my wife’s roommates for a short period of time and we had hung out with back in college, before a big brew-ha-ha happened, so you’d think he might remember that time. So going into Wednesday night, I figured this was all going to happen again. I was going to show up with my wife, who everyone already knew, and these people were going to tell me how nice it was to meet me. Usually when this happens, I sort of take the Lester Burnham in “American Beauty” approach and just say, “Oh, we’ve met before….It's OK, I wouldn't remember me either,” and just go on. This time I was preparing myself for it. I was thinking of things to say when “Nice to meet you” was said. I think I finally decided on “Oh, we’ve met about a dozen times before, from your party in Denver, to their wedding, to the time when you were tapping (mystery person) and her ex-boyfriend busted in the room. What, you don’t remember that?” Okay, I wasn’t going to say that last part because I really do like that person a lot and wouldn’t drag her name into it and start any problems by being a rude jackass, but the first part I was planning on. Anyway, the get together ended up being my wife, me, the couple, and two of the friends (including the guy who I was referring to), but nothing came of it. I’m assuming because they probably gave them advance notice of my arrival since it was just the two of us and probably even said, “Oh, you’ve met him before several times,” because they’re good like that. So I went through all this trouble thinking of something to say, and it was all for nothing. Everyone was cool, like they always are, and I just got annoyed about past encounters for nothing. Oh well. I guess maybe I am an asshole.

I read that Audioslave (good band, terrible band name) will be playing a free concert in Havana tonight, making them the first band to play in Cuba since Castro has taken over. I think that’s pretty cool. For those of you who don’t know, Audioslave frontman Chris Cornell used to be the lead singer of Soundgarden, one of my favorite bands of all-time. I saw Soundgarden in concert a few times, and of all their performances, I think my favorite song they played was a cover of The Doors’ “Waiting for the Sun” when they played Lollapalooza the second time. I thought that was pretty cool, but I have a feeling that if Audioslave plays any covers tonight, they won’t be playing Urge Overkill’s “Sister Havana”. Although I think that’d be kinda cool if they did.

Well, have a great weekend. Mine should be busy. Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers out there (especially my wife, mom, and mother-in-law), and I’ll try to check back in on Monday. XOXOXOXO!!!

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Sorry, I'm Really Busy...

...so I don't have anything or anytime to write. So instead, check out this link:

Lamar's Rap

I still love you guys though.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

23 Is Not Equal to 10

So Jennifer Wilbanks is sorry? Oh, okay. It’s all better now. End of story. We can all move on now, because she said (through her fiancé) that she’s sorry. He also said that her guilt “has got to be consequence enough”. Yeah, I agree. I think the feds should accept that and eat the $60K they spent trying to find her. I mean, she said (through her fiancé) she’s sorry. What more do they want?!?!? Actually, I think the fiancé is an idiot. If that were me, I’d be long gone. The fact that almost everyone assumed that the husband was involved, he had to take a polygraph test, and had insults hurled at him outside his house because the fiancé had “cold feet” (and possibly because of his haircut) and made it seem like a crime had occurred would be reason enough for me to bolt. Sure, it seems like there are more Scott Petersons and Mark Hackings than there are John Masons (at least according to the news and “People” magazine). But the fact that a woman would put her fiancé through all that crap because she was freaking out about the wedding (where she had FOURTEEN bridesmaids!!!) is almost unforgivable, let alone reason to call off the marriage. Oh wait…nevermind. She did say she was sorry, so I guess all is fine now. Go get married you crazy (literally) kids!!!

I cannot stand seeing Chris Berman on ESPN anymore. Not only are his nicknames staler than Journey and his “Back-back-back” calls during the home run derby more annoying that a weekend hanging out with Jake Boot, but now he has on “SportsCenter” every Sunday “Chris Berman’s Top 10 Plays of the Week”. Now I’m all about seeing the highlights of the past weeks’ sporting events, but why can’t he just make a “Top 10” list limited to ten plays. That would make sense, wouldn’t it? This past week’s list consisted of 23 plays! Twenty-three!!! For you mathematically impaired, 23 is not equal to and is more than ten. Around twice as much, I think. I’m not quite positive about that though. And it probably wouldn’t be so annoying if the plays were related, or even plays. One of the “plays” on the list was a goal scored in the English Premier League soccer and a goal in European hockey. How are those two fucking things considered one play? They were scored by different people, in a different sport, in a different country! And for another one the “play” was that Roger Clemens pitched in a game against Greg Maddux. While it’s cool that two pitchers with over 300 wins each faced each other, it isn’t even a play that they are talking about. It’s like me making a “Top 10” list of the things I hate most about Chris Berman and having it go like this:

10. His hair and his clothes.
9. He works with Stuart Scott, and he’s an arrogant a-hole.
8. Marwan on “24” is a rat-bastard.
7. His nicknames, and you guys rarely leave comments on this site lately.
6. His act is as fresh as a “Three’s Company” episode plot.
5. Curtis “My Favorite” Martin, Sammy “Say It Isn’t” Sosa, Andre “Bad Moon” Rison, Napoleon “Turn and” Kaufmann (okay, I made that last one up myself, but think it’s funny).
4. He’s a douchebag, he’s self-important, and he’s not funny.
3. He’s never punched Barry Bonds in the face on camera.
2. Linkin Park made a statement that they want to leave their label because they “feel a responsibility to get great music to our fans”, which makes no sense since they haven’t previously.
1. His “Top Ten” lists have 23 things on them and I really hate “Back-back-back” and know that since I wrote that, everyone of my “friends” will be sure to say that to me every time I watch a baseball game with them. (My friends can really be a bunch of assholes sometimes.)

See, there were way more than ten things on the list, and some of the things had nothing to do with the list subject. Sure, some of the things needed to be recognized, but it didn’t have to be on that list. It’s not that hard to narrow it down to ten, Chris “Roy Munson’s nickname in ‘Kingpin’ was Rub-” Berman.

Blah-blah have a great blah-blah and I’ll blah-blah with you blah-blahs some other blah.

Monday, May 02, 2005

Soccer Rocks!

I have to make this quick, as I just got out of a meeting and have a lot to do. My weekend was okay. Friday night I stayed home and watched my son while my wife went to a going away party for someone she worked with. On Saturday, I worked at the stadium for about ten hours. Not the most exciting day of my life. Two high school girls soccer games, the Wizards match, and a rugby match. It was a long day, although it wasn’t as bad as I thought. The two girls games were about as boring as they possibly could be, although the sound guy asked the one kid who was spotting from the Catholic school, “So, are you pumped about the new Pope?” For some reason that was really funny to me, as I can’t see a seventeen year old American kid getting too excited about that. The Wizards match was a 0-0 tie (pronounced “Nil-Nil”), and pretty boring too, although since I was running the scoreboard too, that made an easy job even easier. The rugby match was a little interesting, since I got to actually put up scores on the board. I didn’t know much about rugby, and still don’t. I pretty much just asked the spotter, “What just happened?” about every three minutes and put the score up if needed. I did get to sit next to the spotter’s girlfriend who was a sort of a Forrest Gump of Midwest sports. According to the hour or so that I sat by her, she told me that her dad played major league baseball, she has ten season tickets to the Chiefs, season tickets to KU basketball, dating a guy who played on D.C. United, went on a date with a Chiefs player, and was “best buds” with Kirk Hinrich. That was all she had time to tell me, otherwise I’m sure there would be a lot more. She was a nice enough girl, but she pretty much claimed to know everyone that someone mentioned, or at least had a story about him. I probably would have asked more questions about all she said or paid more attention to the rugby match, but after eight hours, I really didn’t care. Plus, I had to go to Caddylac’s birthday party afterwards, so I really just wanted to go home, change, see my supermodel wife and my son, eat my unfrozen burritos, and head over there, because I didn’t know how long I was going to stay awake. Oddly, I was up longer than I had been in a long time, as I didn’t get home until after midnight. It was pretty fun, as a lot of my friends were there (although my wife stayed home while the kid slept), and we bullshitted for a while. It was a lot of fun, but at about midnight I hit the wall and had to go home and sleep. On Sunday, I didn’t do much of anything. Woke up after 10, showered, did laundry, and got lunch. One of my wife’s best friends from college came over with her husband, and we chit-chatted for a couple of hours which was nice (except for the part where my son had diarrhea which went through his pants and got onto me). When they left, my son went to sleep and my wife went to run some errands, so I tried to fix a door and pretty much did nothing important. I grilled some chicken when my wife got home while she made everything else and gave my son a bath, and that was about the extent of my day. Crazy weekend, huh?

One thing I did see on television that I thought was something of note was the VH-1 show “Remaking Vanilla Ice”. A more appropriate title would have been “Attempting to Remake Vanilla Ice But to No Avail Since He is a Fucking Stubborn Jackass”. It was ridiculous. I’m pretty sure that he only wanted to be on TV, because he didn’t change anything. They offered him clothes suggestions, but he just wanted to wear a black shirt and black shorts like he already does. They offered him other style advice, but he didn’t want to look stupid like he said they made him look like in the early 1990s. They sent him to a seminar where he could learn trust, yet he wouldn’t do anything there. He had a meeting with some top choreographers, but he didn’t want to dance or do anything since that’s not his style anymore. He didn’t do one thing different on the show, except let someone write music for his lyrics which even his drummer said was the same lyrics he’s been doing for years. It was pretty much an entire waste of a show, and I want my hour back. The thing about it is they should have called the show, “How Vanilla Ice Has Remade Himself into a Fred Durst Clone”, because that’s all he looks and sounds like. And let me tell you Mr. Van Winkle, that’s not a good thing. At all.

Well, have a great week. I will try to update every day, but I don’t know how likely that’ll be. Especially on Thursday, although I think if I do, I will have a funny story for you that day. I kinda have a feeling about it. Believe it!