Friday, October 30, 2009

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While not being smart, Derrick Rose is an elite athlete.

Message here (and one I will teach my kids in the future): Teach your kids about sports and athletics. Nothing in math will get you an $15 million contract. Straight protein shakes and creatine out the womb for Jeezy Jr.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

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Is this some sort of joke? If you're going to rob a store with some drawn on fucking masks have some class to it. This is blatant disrespect to the revered "lucha libre" masks.

I can't distinguish if this is one single black sharpie or shoe polish. I'm ashamed. If you see Dub Jeezy robbin' banks with a drawn on masks you best be damned sure he is going to make a trip to Blick, drop about $82, buy some pastels, some brushes, and a god damn ruler. None of this busch league, "we were desperate and all was lying around was the marker on my dorm rooms' dry erase board." I ain't tryin' to hear that. If I did this crime, CNN would be having the feds at Rey Mysterios house in 2 seconds. My mask would be that good. I'd even pull a back flip off the top rope for good measure.

You don't have to tell me my plan is comparable to that shit you saw in "Inside Man." It's fine, I am not about the pat on the back. I just hope my words resonate to those that try drawing on their faces to rob banks. No more jankity, weak ass attempts.

Get your Blick rewards card to save up to $5 on your next purchase.

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I miss college. I miss not having to wake up early everyday. I miss my former cat Sammy. And I miss Vince Carter.

I know Vince isn't dead, but he just kills everything around him. Good players turn bad and bad players (opponents) turn unreasonably good. Now that he is on my favorite team and we are legitimate title contenders, I am freaking out. I would like to trade this bizarro Vince that exists to us now, for the Vince of yesteryear. The one who is sprawling in that picture. We are currently 1-0, but Vince usually turns it off around the 60 game mark.

Remember when he was wowing us during dunk contests? Jumping over 7'2 Frenchman?

I do. And I hope these last 6-7 years have all been a figment of my imagination and the "old" Vince never left.
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Left to my own devices once again on Halloween. I've made it abundantly clear multiple times that I am unable to do Halloween correctly. Now look what you guys made me do...I am going with one of the biggest hit or miss costumes in the history of Halloween. Granted most people in my age group will know who it is, but that comes as a double edged sword. Sure they'll know him for one of the catchiest tunes of the 90s, but they'll also know him for his potential homosexual (not that I'm against that) tendencies and poor style. I'm just trying to have a good time. So don't blame me if this is a terrible costume since, you know, I asked you all for an idea like 10 god damn times!!!!

Taa daahhh:

Now I just have to learn how to do one handed cartwheels and levitate atop on my fellow dancer's hand.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

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Listen to this beat. Your first reaction is Akon, maybe David Guetta, but then you see Weezer. That's the point where you will reconsider all music knowledge you had in the past. Was it real? Where am I? Is Lil Wayne an actual human or a digital sound byte that the music industry created to increase sales?

I have too much god damn pride to be dancing in a club to this song with a long island iced tea (god dammit) in my hand. I can't have this shit in my life, I won't stand for it.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

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Another A. Samberg joint. There really isn't any flow to the track, but it got me chucklin'.

Oh god, just got tagged in 18 Facebook photos...I should probably tell my mother that she shouldn't get an account.
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Can Adrian Peterson KILL you if he is running full speed and you are standing completely still?

I'm not saying that he hurts you pretty good after the hit, potentially bloodying your lip. I'm saying you're no longer alive and someone is calling your mother saying that you stupidly stood in front of NFL running back Adrian Peterson daring him to to take your life.

I asked that question to all of my friends and there was a unanimous yes answer. We all agreed we would die. No gun, knife, or pads. Just a guy straight up running into you and ending your life. Dude's a beast.

Monday, October 26, 2009

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Due to the fact that I work near several parks, benches are in a heavy abundance. There are nice benches, shitty benches, and benches covered that are covered shit (stark difference).

Where am I going with this you ask? Oh, I am about to take it there like Sean Kingston. I sleep on a park bench during my lunch hour. Gasp!! No, I am not on my bum shit, like the fellow in the picture above, but I do get like 34 minutes undisturbed. I bring a relatively intelligent looking book (usually about the economy or world events) whilst wearing a hoody. Stay with me here. The hoody drapes over my face when I slump my head down to (you guessed it!) cover my eyes.

Chill out when you see that old, smelly, decrepit man lying on the bench. He's getting it in. I respect that. Hopefully, if all goes well, I can remedy the problem of being tired during lunch breaks following my time in Southern Cal....
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While a great video, one question came to mind: is this song offensive? This is like the bizarro reverse version of a white guy watching American History X with a black guy. A lot of "clear your throat" and "I'm going to grab a soda, you want one" moments during this video.

On the other side, this can be one of those bridging the gap type of songs. Integrating the ever so distant white and black party divide. The beer pong vs. dance party debate can have a mutual agreement. By God Duece Poppi, you might be on to something.

Ps. Props to Flatbread Sammy for the video

Friday, October 23, 2009

Thursday, October 22, 2009

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I'm soundin' off right now from 11 Mount Hood. I'm giving a shout out to my boy Matty Dangles on his 22nd bday (a much less important birthday than mine) and I hope you guys that re friends with him said what up on Facebook.

Speakin' of Facebook, I hope to get the most "out of the woodwork" Facebook birthday posts tomorrow. I expect them from fake elementary, middle, and high school friends. Kids that don't know me, but are friends, go and post away. Parents, family, and randoms are free to go as well.

I love you all, thanks for reading. It's you guys that are going to make this birthday special.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

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Every time a birthday rolls around I use that time as an evaluation period of where I am at in life and where I am going. Seemed like every year I was going down a path. I learned to walk, read, go to school, play sports, get into a good college, and get a good job.

At 22, are a mortgage, wife and kids the next move? I will quote Eminem's "Forever" verse in saying: fuck no, go for broke. I know what I don't want to do, but I don't necessarily know what I want to do. I guess the next bunch of years are going to be dedicated to a lot of trial and error. Thinking back to this time 2 years ago, I was actually excited to be 20. 20 meant being a man and making your own decisions. It meant leaving the confines of dependency and walking the treacherous tight rope of responsibility. It's not a scary tight rope. At this stage, if I fall I will fall into a Fantasy Factory-esque ball pit to get up and try again.

What am I supposed to do though? Keep trying to move up at work? I hate work. Seriously, the job I have is pretty sweet. I just hate the idea of working. Ironic name for a blog, huh? My evaluation has taught me that there is no longer a path to follow anymore. Once at this stage in life, we have to create our own road or path. Sure, we have people pushing us in directions and swaying our thoughts, but ultimately the choice is ours guys. Create your own path, do the things that you want to do.

Strangely inspiring track. Says all the things I've been thinking with a punky/rebellious tone. God dammit, I have the 22 year old version of angst.

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Nate Dogg orrr Glenn "Big Dog" Robinson? You decide...

While having a spirited discussion about straight tracks at work today I brought up the fact that Nate Dogg had the ability to raise the likability of a song with a single chorus. I even went on a limb and said he was the chorus master or master of the chorus, or a level 75 chorus mage..hmm, my co-workers think I'm hilarious by the way.

As we are in this debate, one guy says, "sucks he had a stroke and is paralyzed on the entire left side of his body." I nearly hopped out of my seat, but I checked with Dr. Pedia and it was confirmed. Here I am all this time thinking Nate Dogg was kidnapped and hidden away somewhere by Akon and T-Pain. What the hell happened? I keep my ears to the streets. I got my arms on some grapevines. I fucked up. If you check Dr. Pedia yourself you can see that this allegedly (my new favorite word) happened in September of 2008. Let's face it, I don't even remember September 2008 (collegeee, wooooo).

Well Nate, I hope you are doing alright. I am secretly hoping that you chorus up a new track, similar to "Through The Wire", but more pertinent to a stroke. Mehh, borderline's a track!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

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Ok, you caught me. I watch the Today Show every god damn day and I am proud of it. It brightens every morning and puts a smile on my face. Ahem. They are currently running this segment about women's role in society changing. It's a good segment. They are showing women as CEOs, dominating figures in entertainment, and powerful authors. My mom's a woman and my daughter (before I give her away) will be a woman. Butttt, this picture sets women back a solid 10 years back when I was in grocery store trying to cop those lunchable 'roni slices.

Seriously though? "My Cleaning Trolley?" What is the guy equivalent to this thing? "My Pay The Mortgage?" "My Tell The Wife I Am Working Late, But Instead I'm Going To The Bar?" The kids they pick for these focus groups must be real as hell. No more jump ropes or games of tag. We are dealing with those real adult problems.

I guess it makes's a recession.

Monday, October 19, 2009

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Got to embrace those simple pleasures. Don't dwell on the complicated things right now and just kick back, lift your arms up, and get tickled a little bit.

Friday, October 16, 2009

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This has all the tools to be a club banger. Absurd lyrics, popular mega-star singing the chorus, powerful beat. If I hear this song tonight I will lose my mind.

Note to self: no Long Island Iced Teas. Even though they are the best drink in this economy, there is no reason for my last 189 Facebook pictures to exist.

P.S.--Props to Worm for the idea.
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Bears attracted to menstruation? That's fine. Not the usual means of attraction to a human woman, but to each his own. But bears sprinkling haterade all over mini-vans and pick-ups? That crosses the god damn line. It doesn't add up. Are bears trying to turn into the male social compass? I just don't understand. Mini-vans aren't cool vehicles for a guy to be associated with, but that doesn't give you the right to scratch up the exterior. What happened to the days of hunting pic-a-nic baskets with Boo-boo? If we leave the baskets outside or we are chillin' with them in a field with our girlfriend, it's fine. We are fair game. It has been established that people should not have picnics in a bear habitat and it's completely fine if they get mauled and brutalized, since they were dumb.

That gives these bastards no right to invade our vans and pick-up trucks to forage. These scientists are "baffled" at why the bears invade mini-vans more than other vehicles. Let me put my Bachelors degree to use right quick and make a bold hypothesis. Mini-vans. Driven by soccer moms/moms/boring women/nerd dudes. All of the above love a good picnic. They keep their food in the van. Bear hates picnics and wants to stop the issue at it's source. Simple math people. Didn't even need to bring my TI-83 out for that one.

It's Friday and if some of you decide to make that trek up to Yosemite, please heed my aforementioned warning.

I care about all 4 of you that read this.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

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According to some show (that happened to be mediocre at best this season) this season, this girl is roaming around California somewhere. I HAVE to find her. I'm going to need some help though....

Inspector Gadget owes me a favor, I think I got a few gumshoes on speed dial, and I am pretty sure Chip and Dale will help me since I reference them every 2-3 posts. I'm pumped. Who's coming with?
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I am telling the national media today, October 15, 2009, I announce my signing to the University Of Southern California Business School: Marshall.

These past few days have told me that not only my body belongs in Southern California, but my mind does too. I'm so over long sleeve shirts and boots, and tying shoes. I have one pooka(h?) chain, no skinny jeans, and an overall appreciation for the lights, sounds, eccentricity of Hollywood.

Here's the plan (tentative, based on me surviving the Boston winter with no heat in my house):

a) dominate the Boston/East Coast/United States blogosphere

(realize plan a legitimately has no chance of working)

b) stay at my job (barring getting fired) and hopefully move up a bit

c) develop real and liquid capital ::giggle in the background::

d) get with the most hot chicks and step my athlete game up

e) do great on the GMAT and fabricate the shit out of my resume

f) pack my bags, get my dorm room, meet the cheerleading squad, and get my playbook out so I can assist Pete Carroll as the first player/coach in the history of the Southern California.

g) getting found on my initial tour of Hollywood where I get found and star in a small indie movie, but I am unable to deal with it so I invite 3 of my best friends to live with me in LA...

h) all of the above

i) none of the above (don't do it, I got big dreams)

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

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What a great idea. I feel like Hulk Hogan on that episode of "Hogan Knows Best" where he reveals that he had the option in choosing either a grill (currently known as a George Foreman) or a blender (formerly known as the "Hulkamatic"). One made $6 million and one lost $10,000.

In a less significant and more loser-like scenario we have (most likely) two recent college grads. One guy chooses to blog about nothing, the other chooses to make videos of popular NFL plays with the Tecmo football layout.

Oh, bee tee dubs (BTW(By the Way)), I legitimately had this idea like 5 years ago, but never had the ability nor the balls to pull it off.
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I'm glad Beyonce made an effort to hold Lil Mama's crazy ass back, but I think I needed a little bit more out of her. I'd like to believe that the poor soul that turns out to be my girlfriend in the future would put up more of a strong front in protecting my honor. It's like what coach said. Arm tackles lose games.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

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Woke up today and realized that I was wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, an undershirt, sweatpants, and socks while having the most intimate relationship with a blanket that any man can have with anything. Still, I was shivering. Shivering god dammit. Matt Lauer and Meridith Viera informed me that Boston was pushing a brisk 36 degrees today.

25 minutes ago, I got out of the chair, put on my hat, and ran down the hill to Walgreens. You can already guess that I was outside my mind. I spent a solid 15 minutes staring back in forth at my debit card and a Snuggie. It was as if the song Guilty Conscience had an additional verse featuring Dre and Eminem arguing about whether I should buy a Snuggie or deodorant. Dr. Dre steered me in the right direction and I came out with some Old Spice and not a body blanket.

Is it bad if I am seriously debating bringing the George Foreman grill into my room and leaving it on all night? I get that insta-sickness when i walk into my crib. I recently saw a mosquito die when it landed on my window. The window killed a mosquito...

Snuggie it is, Eminem.
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I can't stop watching 4 episodes of "The Office" every night at 1am when I have to wake up at 8am. The lifestyle I have is killing me and may or may not be depressing. Needless to say, this video is hilarious.

Fact: Skunks love subs and peanut butter.
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Ooops, my bad. Wildcat was pretty dirty last night, can't even deny that. Jets D didn't step up and we looked soft out there. I made some notes on my clipboard though.

*Braylon Edwards found the vaccine for the dropsies, but sadly, he will be arrested before Week 9.

*Mark Sanchez literally is the hope of all Hispanic-Americans.

*Blitzing all the time is no longer the move.

*The Pro Bowl is before the Superbowl. Looks like Braylon and Mark will miss out.

The mark of good teams is how they bounce back from a tough loss.

Monday, October 12, 2009

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The ideal animal to name an offense out of if you ask me.

I spoke to Mark today on Facebook chat and he told me that instead of picking up dimes and quarters this weekend (like he did for the Saints game), he chilled inside, watched film and dvds of the Fresh Prince.

Rex Ryan tried to BBM me, but I told him I wasn't cool enough to own a Blackberry, so we texted like normal people do. He told me that he was ready for Ronnie Brown, Ricky Williams, and Cleo Lemon. This dialogue then took place:

Me: Coach, Cleo doesn't play for the Dolphins anymore. Their starting QB is Chad Henne.

Rex: No, Dub. You mean Chad Pennington and he's out for the season. Duhhh.

Me: In fact, I don't even think Cleo Lemon's on an NFL or UFL roster right now. Anyways, yeah. Chad Henne is their starter. He was Michigan's QB a few years back.

Rex: Whoa. What? You're crazy man. Who the hell is Chad Henne?

Me: Here's his highlight vid:

Rex: For real? Haha, I think we'll be alright.

...then Rex's Mac unexpectedly shut off, since Macs do that for some reason.

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I don't Eff with this shit.

1) I'll openly admit that scary pumpkins shivered me timbers when I was a youth and threw just enough salt on my Halloween swag. (Note: I did have swag, but it was the moment my 4th grade nemesis pointed out my fear of Jack-ass-O-Lanterns, that the swag was vacuumed out of my soul like a ghost getting sucked into the Ghostbusters' ghost trap (apparently they sell these?)

2) I have never cracked the AP Top 25 for cool Halloween Costumes, with my worst being me dressed as, you guessed it, a giant god damn pumpkin. My mom tuned out a lot of what I said. Ahem.

3) I've recorded a league leading 7 pumpkin carving related injuries in 7 years of cutting pumpkins. Mine always ended up looking depressed instead of scary...and I had bloody hands usually. Was I emo?!

4) Since the beginning of my great existence, no matter where I am or who I am with, it is my god damn job to get rid of/and or clean the mess of an old ass Halloween pumpkin when it is rotting and sending off terrible odors in mid-December.

Pumpkin pie, though, is straight.

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Stumbled upon this in my daily company profit killing activity of perusing the web. Needless to say, I was baffled. It instantly made me think of Rocky 4. The Russian guy had to have all the vocal coaches, the crazy technology, and singing enhancing drugs to get his advantage.

But leave it to good ol' Rocky (the guy who sings the American version)to do things the way they are supposed to do them. This guy just sings his heart out to the point where I think they did this shit in one-take and he died shortly after.

Pledge allegiance to the flag...

Friday, October 9, 2009

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Fuck you, college kids. I hate the fact that I have to work on Monday and none of you do. I hope they realize that Columbus Day is centered around social injustice and human rights violations before Monday and cancel that shit on you.

Ruh Roh. Controversial statement...

Enjoy the weekend!!!!

P.S.--Props to my boy Scratty Scrow for the link.
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--Crank Dat Criminal Record

I'm pissed at the cops in this situation. You know Soulja Boy was making that next catchy ass song that we would all be drunkenly dancing to in 2 months. 21 years, (sorry Drake) and I have met some decent cops, mainly because my father was a cop. These guys though are just the definition of party poopers--let's talk about the term "party pooper" for a second. Is a party pooper a person that poops on a party? Without experiencing modern society these past 21 years, I would assume that a party pooper is a vagrant that just takes shits on and around parties, but I digress...

"Hopped Up Out the Beeddddd, Hit My Head On The Ceiling Of My Jailroom Bunk"

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-Really? Eating a remote? You've eaten food before. You know damn well it doesn't have buttons on it.

This shit is my point exactly. I don't want any babies of mine chillin' on the ground naked eating remote controls. I'm putting my foot down now before that hell child even exists. Today alone, I had three (count them 3) stupid baby incidents.

1st moment: On the T this morning, baby sitting with his mom (clearly dumb as shit) has a rubber band in his hand. I'm thinking, "How'd this baby get a rubber band? I sure hope he doesn't hurt himself with it." Low and behold he springs the rubber band right into his cheek. Tears and crying to start off my day. Wonderful.

2nd moment: Lunchtime. I see a dad (miserable) walking with his son. The son all of a sudden just sits down for no reason. The dad's confused, but chooses to wait it out for reasons I don't understand. Then the kid gets up, proceeds to turn around walk. Here's where he gets dumb as shit. He's walking toward a wall. He sees the wall. He makes a calculated decision to slam into the wall. Tears, crying, and he knew he was going to walk into the wall. God dammit.

3rd moment: I called a woman today at work and in the middle of the conversation she says, "Tommy, don't go near the toilet...ohhh nooo", I said "Haha, crazy dogs", she retorted with, "Umm, that was my son"...Oh. Needless to say that conversation ended soon after. I'm fed up with these babies.

Ok, don't give me the "their brains aren't developed" spiel, I have seen an ant reason it's way out of a tough situation. I've seen plants adapt to things better than baby humans can. What the hell. I know I wasn't like that. I was calmly waiting to talk, while being an overall law abiding citizen. No eating remotes, toilets, or walking into walls for me.

Just reading books and eating vegetables for Baby Jeezy.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

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Before you Megatron-pause me on this one hear me out. It was a little gay, but since my work is awesome and I am awesome (devious combo), I and 15 others were randomly selected to get a free massage from FitCorp downstairs. Naturally, my hot girl masseuse fantasy came out and I was pumped for it. I see a line when I get there and think to myself "I wonder what this hot chick is doing to that girl in there with the door closed for the last 15 minutes" and I prance my ass around waiting for my turn. Apparently there was clear and audible chatter that a dude was doing the massages, but I guess I blocked it out with my hot girl masseuse fantasy. My turn to go...

I get in there and see some brooding fellow with an "Edguardo" name-tag on. God dammit. I go in for the handshake (?) because that's what you do before you get intimate with another guy I suppose. This man literally crushes my hand and tells me to take a seat in the massage chair. I'm freaking out right now. The incredible hulk is plotting some shit I don't even understand behind me and I am powerless to do anything.

15 minutes later.

I am humming the chorus of "Best I Ever Had" and strutting out of the room like it's nobody's business. I thought to myself, what are the odds that if it was a girl, I would have hooked up with her? My brain calculator was creating fake numbers to describe to me the odds. She probably would have been dainty and I wouldn't have had my back feeling like A Milli. Edguardo on the other hand left me feeling ready to run a marathon. I didn't know I had a back problem until this man exposed my flaws. Shit was bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S....Pause.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

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Tuesday, October 6, 2009

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If Spike Lee, a large fish, and a fly had some weird sort of sex and one of them gave birth, they would create the being known as Lil Jon.

Can you picture the guy in the black and white photo snappin' fingers in the club? Can you picture this gentleman leading the black squad to a victory on Wild'N Out? No? Neither can I. This shit is almost inspiring. One of the biggest rags to riches tales (through one picture) that I have ever seen.
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Art is so crazy to me. People buy the most expensive and pure pastels in order to get that special touch. Some people need to experience nature and life to gain inspiration to create their art. Then there are some people that see a car covered in dust, dirt, bird shit, and crums and see that as the perfect canvas to make a masterpiece.

This image is so ahead.
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Didn't know she was hot going into the video. Now I feel awful...

Don't feel awful about this one though.

Monday, October 5, 2009

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On the T home today, I had my Bro-pod on shuffle and two of my most interesting tracks came on..simultaneously. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Theme and the Power Rangers Theme. By God...which song is better? I couldn't answer this question any easier when I was six than I can now. Both are phenomenal, have tremendous instrumentals, and feature some of the most badass characters in television history. I'll let you decide, because this shit is like deciding between taking a solid nap or drinking due to peer pressure (real weekend instance).

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle - The top video clips of the week are here


Power Rangers Theme - Mighty Morphin 1 - The best bloopers are a click away

Observation: Amy Jo Johnson. The hottest girl of the 1992-94 era.
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His gunslinger mentality, his overall disregard for people's feelings, his attempt at sabotaging the Jets, and his affinity to wear Wranglers and only Wranglers have caused me to start to hate Brett Favre.

But god dammit, when he hucks a touchdown pass down field and he freaks out like a little schoolgirl, it just makes me feel warm inside. He's absolutely loving it out there tonight and even though Aaron Rodgers is the hope of my 5 fantasy teams, I think I'm kind of rooting for Brett.
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Don't worry about it Mark. I've been distracted by far worse. There once was a track meet where I skipped a mildly important relay to get McDonald's breakfast. If that's not a direct comparison to you hooking up with a hottie and having the worst game of your young career soon after, I don't know what is.

I'm thoroughly pleased to be 3-1 by the way.
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It finally hit home.

Stay strong brother, stay strong.

Friday, October 2, 2009

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Good luck Jets!!!...and Giants. I wouldn't mind seeing a subway series Super Bowl. What up New York!!!
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Every November I come up with the greatest Halloween costume of that previous year. It is potentially my most depressing talent. I p'd out on my Steve Urkel idea last October due to the fact that I thought it would hurt my odds of meeting I nice young lady that evening. Now that I fully recognize there is no chance of meeting a nice young lady this year, I am fully embracing any good idea. I will be whatever costume will knock the socks of the bar/party/office/grocery store function I end up being at. I don't care if it's lewd or (note) mildly offensive. Let's review my previous costumes:

Freshman Year Of College: Batman...youth size...passed out at 9:45pm

Sophomore Year: Brian Fellows of "Brian Fellows Safari Planet"

Junior Year: The Scream Guy

Senior Year: A Pirate that ended up looking like Real from "A Real Chance Of Love"

As you can see, I need some help. If you are reading this, I really would love for you to leave a comment as to what costume I should be. I'll take most suggestions. People have been expecting a brilliant cut and I've been giving them cubic zirconium. Help.
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Wakka Wakka. I got a real laugh out of the idea that we were actually going to have the Olympics in Chicago. No offense, but Chicago just did not make a good Olympic city. If you can tell me something legitimately special about Chicago kudos to you. The main problem is that it's cold. Coming from a guy that doesn't have heat in his house, the cold is not a good place to do anything. I'm not feelin' it and I am booking my ticket to Rio as soon as possible. 1)Because the Olympics is a life-changing experience and 2) my wife is hiding out there somewhere and I need to find her.

Can't do that in Chicago. I'll just meet some prissy lawyer chick there who will slowly rot away my soul...or is that what every husband experiences?