Thursday, March 31, 2011

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If the guy that owns these pillows isn't a serial killer, he's definitely not getting any girls back to his place. He can be the most social dude at the party--could have tons of charm, humor, and all that other BS girls claim to like. But nothing is a dealbreaker like fucking social networking throw pillows on the couch/in the bedroom. Is it bad that I don't even know what half of these are? Like I'm pretty sure 3 of these pillows are Facebook related, but I'm not even really sure. Going in with a presumed 40% success rate on that one.

My claim to fame back in my hayday was, "I have a king sized bed." I lived or died with that one. Mostly died. Almost exclusively died. Chicks would either giggle thinking I wasn't serious, be seriously offended or walked away. I can only imagine what would happen if I barely got a girl to come back to my place in the first place and her see her fucking "Favorites" bar lined up on my unkempt king sized bed.

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Did this picture ruin your childhood like it ruined mine? That's fucking Splinter if you didn't notice and apparently some artist (undoubtedly hipster) decided to get real intricate in his interpretation of some key Ninja Turtle characters. Like, why'd you do that dude? Shit wasn't broken--it didn't need fixing. Now I'm going to cry for the most hours tonight.

On the real though, I would have immediately listened to anything this agitated rat told me. The kid Dub Jeezy would most def be the worst Ninja in the game though. I'd never really grasp the fact that a rat was teaching me the ancient art of kung-fu and asking me to clean the house after a pizza binge would be far too much.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

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I don't know if it's just me but I see a direct correlation between Dr. Dre's new video I Need A Doctor and Shaquille O'Neal's rehabilitation process with the Boston Celtics. Seriously though I can't take it anymore what the fuck is going on with Shaq? Where is he? Sources say he'll be back in action from his achilles injury by April 5th but there hasn't been a Big Diesel sighting since before the All-Star break.

Co-blogger Dub Jeezy recently brought to my attention that Shaq is simply the big elephant in the room around Boston. Everyone knows he's the key to our 18th championship without Kendrick Perkins standing in the middle. I really hope they have him in a tank of some sort of crazy liquid substance re-energizing like Dre here while the Kevin Garnett and Paul Pierce surround him spitting Eminem's second verse. Just pumping electrolytes into his veins, bringing the old Shaq from the dead and back to his Orlando days.

Am I sick? This is all I've been thinking about lately. This god damn song won't get out of my head because I envision this for the big man to make it back in time for a title run. Damnit I gotta to stop relying on the C's so much during the week in order to keep my sanity. Somebody bring Shaq to life before playoffs so I can get some adequate rest over here.
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As some of you may know, I used to be an avid basketball player. Played basically every day I could for years because I was way too much of a bitch to eff with football and lacked the essential element of hand-eye coordination for baseball. Plus I knew those crucial black genes would kick in at some point and make me able to run fast/jump high. I played organized until the end of high school and crushed the pick-up and intramural scene at college. Well after college ended, let's just say the ol' basketball became a little deflated, and the ol' competitive spirit was replaced with depression and borderline liver failure.

Nowadays I just try to stay afloat in pick-up street ball. It's the safest place to play when you're completely unsure of your skills or athleticism. If you're questioning, "Can I touch the backboard?", a lackluster pick-up game is the right place for you. It's more of a "put in what you get back" scenario because dudes out there are weird. Weird frontward facing hats, adidas COATS, and more than a few guys in jeans and Timberlands. A rolled ankle, heat stroke, and general discomfort don't phase these guys. But let me get to the main point. Random dick touching. I said it. Everyone plays defense. We do what they taught us in those camps. Watch you man's hips, keep one hand up, one hand down, etc. Every now and then you drive to the basket and you feel that graze. You know that fucking graze fellas. A slight yet, intensely uncomfortable graze of your sack. That layup ain't going in, and you ARE NOT making eye contact with that guy the rest of the game because he feels worse about it than you. Dude's probably questioning his sexuality when he should be getting rebounds--he's damn sure not boxing out. Really throws the game off kilter.

Other pet peeves I have on the court: dapping up the same guy twice after a game, saying something ridiculous instead of saying "bank/glass" because you're too tired to say real words, dick touching again, unfunny trash talk, dudes that definitely sprayed themselves with Axe before playing, twigs and shit on the court, when people don't help get your ball when it bounces on their court, hoops with no nets, airballing/swishing on a hoop with no net, having no idea where the water fountain is after a game, arguing out of bounds calls when I know I have a 9-5 to go to in the morning, getting schooled by kids clearly in high school-possibly middle school, not being that good anymore.


Tuesday, March 29, 2011

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See what I did? I made a joke about a catastrophe that happened so long ago that most likely no one can be offended by it. Effective as shit.

Sidenote, this is totally offensive. Like was the best course of action aside from the "Titanic" movie, to make a knock off Transformer of the boat? Shit doesn't even make sense. Where would the head come from? I saw the fantastic film, featuring budding superstar Leo DiCaprio. I'm fucking offended. I don't even think Optimus Titanic would have made a difference out there. Actually he would have killed MORE people than the ship hitting the glacier would. I'm sure the whole transformation process was problematic, and the immediate idea of flight would probably cause more than a few tragedies.

What I'm trying to say is, that dude in the "Oops I Did It Again" video would have never been able to search the depths for Rose's necklace and deliver it to Britney. No idea where my life would be if that didn't happen.
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Guess it's just me and you SpongeBob. So this happened to me not too long ago and I decided it's just best to go public with it...There I stood after a solid 122 frame (is that solid? I always feel that if I land in the triple digits it's all good) and decided to see if I could curve the ball like the pros through the second game.

First attempt...strike. Are you kidding me? I'm a god damn natural. The people in the surrounding lanes could've seen me as Ishmael from Kingpin out there. Of course my friends could see what's coming..."Craw your never gonna keep this up just wait til next round." God damnit were they right.

So in the round that eventually followed I stepped up with all the confidence in the world...only to throw it right in the gutter while hearing the sound of my jeans ripping to shreds. My initial prayer was "please just let that be the sound of my boxers." No chance. Jeans are blowin' in the wind with every stride taken.

Let this be a lesson to anyone who's reading...It's okay to stay at home and take a back seat every once in a while. Just another example of me and my overzealous self trying to take home MVP and inevitably winding up with the funny story (only at my expense of course). Time to wash the remaining pants I have left and hit the treadmill.
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"Yo dawg, we installed TWELVE Playstation 2s on your dashboard for all your gaming needs, along with an Italian themed spice rack, and your choice of 3 shirts from Old Navy"

Main reason you don't see this heaps of junk on the road is because the person crashed shortly after leaving the "Pimp My Ride" garage. Shit was probably weighing in at over 4 tons and the Playstation screens were occupying the rear and side-view mirrors. Driver had no chance. Part of me always thought the owners hated the changes Xxibit and crew made to their cars. Like, what self respecting girl is going to get in a Dodge Caravan with flames on the sides. Probably a girl that loves Playstations and instant car accidents.

I've been to Miami, where bad cars go to die, get suped up, and end up ridiculous looking. Never have I seen the watermelon Caddy with a jukebox coming out of the front. If the car didn't crash or explode within its first day out of the lot, it was 100% robbed and pillaged for parts.

Monday, March 28, 2011

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Just read this story about a dude killing his wife of 66 years because "she didn't love him anymore."

You know what? How about you fuckin' relax dude. She stopped loving you roughly 2 months into the marriage and has been straight going through the motions ever since. What alternate reality was he living in? Of course I mean aside from the alternate reality that every old person lives in where they think pinching cheeks is an appropriate form of affection. My knee jerk reaction to any type of pinch is red alert fists flying. Knocking old people heads off like a classic zombie video game. But yeah, back to the point. Every REALLY old couple you see has stopped "loving" each other about 3 decades ago, had like 3 kids, and are hanging the fuck out in the crib. Wife watches the cooking network and the husband has ESPN 1, 2, 3, news, and the ocho on TV at once. Living in controlled bliss, rarely crossing each others paths. It's beautiful in a way. All the way up until hubby has an irrational fear that wifey isn't feeling him anymore. I don't know what could have gave it away.

Probably turned off one of his ESPN networks. That'd be a final straw for me at least.
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Damn...The things people come up with. The dude sounded so discouraged when he couldn't fit all 3,000 toothpicks in. Just years of hard work and commitment to keep his job and family intact while looking completely heinous all leading up to this moment. I thought he had it at the 2,000 mark. It looked as though there was enough beard to go around for sure.

Despite coming up short in the end 2,747 toothpicks and smashing a world record ain't bad. Here's a guy who's found his niche. An ordinary citizen on the outside but a toothpick connoisseur when it's all said and done. A job well done indeed.
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Really puts new meaning to all that Easy Mac you ate in your dorm rooms right? I know I was crushing that stuff. Late night after the dining halls closes, pop that in the microwave and bingo-bango, I'm my own best friend. Just pitching blog ideas to myself giggling like a school girl. Got two controllers set up for a game of Madden even though I've been the only one in the room for months. All because of that time Mom visited and hooked me up with that family size Easy Mac.

If you play "Lonely" by Akon in super slow motion, he's clearly saying Macaroni and Cheese. I'm an idiot for not figuring that shit out years ago.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

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There is currently a link on the side of my Facebook page for "Paint the World" Tie Dye clothes. First of all, what do you mean? Are you going to tie dye my clothes, or am I just buying assorted tie dye clothes from you? Okay, it says they use 100% fair trade organic material, so I guess I'm buying tie dye clothes from you. (I keep wanting to say tye dye? tie die? tydie? Confused...)

Now the real question: WHY would I buy tie dye clothes from you? Did I not tie dye enough in my confused youth, or at some ineffective college freshmen orientation activity? Why can't I just go to a DaveMatthewsJackJohnsonJohnMayer etc etc concert and buy one off out of the jacket of the nice man in the parking lot outside the show for $5?

The answer is there is no reason why not... I can and will have a shirt with Jack Johnson's face covered in random splotches of paint on the front and tour dates on the back. And it will be cool AND retro. Or if I don't want to spend the fiver, I'll get crafty and tie-dye my own stuff. Better move to the parking lot or the college cafeteria or the Ultimate Frisbee sidelines where the real tie-dying goes down, because this official online order business you're trying to make happen is just neverrr gonnnnnna.
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Just got wind of this a-hole cat ruining this poor British family's life. The family is just trying to watch "Unsolved Mysteries" without having their cat impersonate a Boeing 747 bursting their eardrums. Seriously, this cat is about to get inducted in the hall of fame for it's ability to crush eardrums. At a point, is it cool to just open the door and let nature take it's course? Maybe toss some fancy feast out on the porch and just hope for the best.

Can't afford a personal interpreter and it's overall not a good look, so I guess it's peace out Smokey. You son of a bitch.
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First off, is this the wackest picture of all time? This had to be taken with one of those cameras they used to capture World War I and the great depression pictures. Coloring it in with crayons and shit. Pure busch league.

Think about it. Celebrities are always bitching about, "Waaah, the paparazzi always takes pictures of me", "Wahhh, I have no privacy." Well think about if that was literally your life 24/7. Not an ounce of privacy. You basically have to live in a cave underground and you have to strategically eat/take dumps at real sketchy hours to not to be spotted. I mean, our dude above was legit biding his time for like 9 months before he mustered up the courage to cross the road. Just wanted to see if the grass was greener, ya know. And to his dismay, some guy in his car happens to have a CVS Kodak handy, ready to spin that wheel to the next exposure.

This guy apparently cried that, "Oh, he was definitely upset. He let out a growl." Of course he was upset. Guy just wanted to take a shit in a clean plot of land without appearing in the Daily fucking News.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

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Eh, I probably would have spent a dollar. Shit, double cheeseburgers cost $1.07 nowadays. But seriously, I did not see things going this far. Would I have wanted $1000 ad dollars before 1000 posts? Sure, but it's been an awesome run. A legitimately good time has and will be had for days to come.

I'm not going to thank God because he is most thanked dude in the game, but I do want to give a big thank you to the two other writers that contributed to the 1000, Craw and G. Keep on burning up the internet with your fire posts. I'll also go ahead and thank myself too because every now and then you just need to pat yourself on the back, ya know?

Thanks guys.
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This video really exposed a key flaw in my brain structure. I could only focus on one head at a time. I'm pretty sure that means I had an aneurysm.

If you inserted me in any one of those spots this video's creditability would plummet to like 82 views status. Even the square where the soul responsibility is to go "Do Do Do" for like 8 minutes. I'd slip up somewhere and really tear myself up. Straight playing nervous for the duration.

It goes without saying this dude is getting a ton of ass rights? They say you can make the NBA if you do one thing really well. You're a hall of famer if you are a 8-tool player.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

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Been wrestling with the idea that this cat may be CGI for like an hour. Cats just can't fit hot dog suits. They're made solely for those hilarious looking "hot-dog" dogs and dudes on Halloween.

This one really attacked my cerebellum though. Brain was confused as fuck on whether to laugh, be scared, or be concerned. The Youtube equivalent of one of those violent hangovers where you don't know whether to eat, shit, or throw up. Speaking of shit, this cat's eating shit right? I've never seen such blatant animal cruelty. Dressing a cat in a hot-dog suit CLEARLY made for a dachshund is one thing, but feeding him actual poop is another. The line has to be drawn somewhere.

This possibly digital cat needs to be rescued. I need to get on Limewire and download this mofo immediately.
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Check the Georgy Mason University Orchestra dominating Rage Against the Machine in their own style. I just had a flashback to my high school band days with this set up imagining if we played this. Would be straight shock coming from the mass amount of parents in the audience. I guess if you stick with band through college you can actually start learning whatever you want.

But have you ever seen a more badass conductor? Couldn't picture a symphony frontman with more swagger leading the charge. My only distaste in the video is the girl in the red down front...just over-exaggerating each down beat like it was the last note she'd ever play. Relax're playing flute.
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Since "Bullying" is the hot new thing going on in the news these days, I figure I'd toss my two cents out there.

First off, bullying is an easily avoidable problem. You basically have to be sly as shit and make friends with the bullies before they realize they're bullies. Basically be way smarter then them and foresee their life before it happens. I'll fill you in on the first and only time I misread a situation.

Back in kindergarten I use to post up HARD on the building blocks. Just attempting to build masterpieces that my mom could see when she picked me up. My inability to color within the lines forced me to operate solely with the blocks and Legos, so some may have thought I developed a mini-monopoly in the play area. Justin J did not take kindly to my hobby. No one really seemed upset I dominated the blocks, but I saw JJ mean mugging me for like 2 weeks straight for no reason. Snack time, I'm sippin' my Motts and the dude is ignoring his sandwich just to stare holes in my face. One day, this asshole kicked possibly my greatest creation over and pinched me. Rocked my fucking world. I never cried so hard, but didn't have the balls to tell anyone what happened. Confused and stricken with anger/fear, I stood in waiting for like a month. Let JJ galavant around thinking he owned the place until one day I (arguably) overreacted and kicked him in the face bloodying his lip. That instantly put me in timeout for an undisclosed period, and for the first time in my life, establishing myself as a bully. The responsibility was just too much. Kids literally gave me their fruit snacks while at the same time taking away my shitty items like apple slices and carrots. I was a king for a week or two. Then everyone with their piss poor 5 year old attention spans forgot. Shit was over. It was like in "Power Rangers" the movie when the parents snapped out of whatever roofies Ivan Ooze gave them. Remember that movie? No? You should rent it.

Anyways, Justin J (not his real name) friended me on Facebook recently. Dude is a financial analyst at a reputable financial firm. I swear to god if I see him on the street though I will take it back to '93 and Charlie Murphy that motherfucker in the chest till he's coughing up organs.

Thanks for reading WMD Justin!

Monday, March 21, 2011

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That's right. Three-time U.S. champion sumo wrestler Kelly Gneiting just recently completed the LA Marathon through the rain at the age of 40. The only thing me and my man here will have in common by the time I hit my old man days is that not so slender physique. 

I'll keep crushing food and taking in six-packs in order to build up to the physical presence of a world class wrestler...just won't be dominating marathons but instead losing my breath while heading to the fridge. Gneiting creates the loophole where fat men all around the world can claim they are in top physical condition. "Honey, this 400 pound dude ran two marathons, I'm weighing in at 360. Perfectly healthy. Now let's order in a few pizzas."

Kelly Gneiting...a true victory for the big man.
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So I came across a story this morning about a high school that created a "Smut List" and just shook my head. Not because of the whole idea of misogyny, oppression, or other fun buzz words, but because I missed the god damn boat. What?

Yeah I said it. In high school I was left to my own devices to get girls to become smitten. I had to be an awesome athlete, witty, and fake being smart. Shit backfired like a mofo. Boston College is in the unrespectable NIT and high school kids are in lay-up lines getting girls. I caught Facebook in the era of pure confusion. People were friending people just to friend them. I joined like 35 groups they had "beer" in the title just trying to be cool. Poked like 17 girls a night before I went to bed. It was a problem. Definitely not benefiting my pick up game. I remember bringing up Facebook to chicks and they would look at me like I was a spaz. Like, "what nerd uses Facebook?" type shit. Nowadays, you drop Facebook, the chick is pulling you into a back alley to make out with you. Just goes to show, we're not THAT young.

Those kids and their smart phones, PSPs, and accessible means to "easy" girls being just one-click away. Shit would have been the life if I was born in like '94.
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What do you think became of Marcin Gortat after this? I know exactly what he did. Dude pointed to his assistant/friend/girlfriend, gave them the start-the-car look, and proceeded to exit out the back with some of the straggler Phoenix Suns cheerleaders. Got in his vehicle, promptly took out his Iphone, downloaded that AirDelta app, closed his eyes, picked a destination, and took a sleeping pill hoping his assistant/friend/girlfriend would guide him where he needed to go.

If all went well my man Marcin Gortat woke up in another country with a new identity and a small quaint home in the woods.
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I almost urge you not to watch this video because it was legitimately that bad. I've never felt more uncomfortable and badly for someone worth 250x my net value. Feel like Snoop's a hobo begging for spare change in front of Burger King. He's basically doing the same thing with this video right? Rapping with a wombat or some shit.

It all started with "California Gurls" man. Dude was rockin' that ice-cream suit that I thought was baller, but I'm sure the hip-hop community didn't appreciate it as much as me.
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Dear Saint Patrick,
Every year in your honor since I learned to drink I have spent a day in March completely forsaking all that is good in this world in order to wear unflattering bright green t-shirts with slogans like "Drink Til You're Irish" on the back, chug car bombs when normally I cannot chug a regular beer, and wander the streets in aimless chaos at 10am posing for never-ending pictures with friends and any random stranger who looks particularly Irish, or just happens to be in my line of vision for longer than 3 seconds. The amount of bystanders in my pictures quadruples on a Parade Day. (Obviously probably posting ALL OF THESE in black and white with green shirts colored in later.)

So, while my fellow bloggers Craw and Dub J have continued the tradition of obliteration like champs this year, I finally had to stop and say enough is enough. In Parade and Saint Patty's Days past have lost my license, my green parade horn, friends, relationships, and overall quality of life. Meanwhile all of this is worsened by the fact that an entire city, be it Boston or Scranton, has gone completely to some green hell leaving me with no viable escape options. So this year I am waving the white flag and giving up. I promise to have one casual Irish drink and behave like a lady, if you promise not to ruin my life? I don't know why I'm behind a bunch of random cardboard boxes, or why that towel looks like it's actually underwear or a washcloth, but it is what it is. I'm too defeated to care.

You win, Saint Patrick. You win.

P.S. Don't be too proud of this. You were Italian anyway.

Friday, March 18, 2011

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Well call me Mr. fuckin Magoo on St. Patrick’s Day (excuse my Irish). But how many mistakes could I have possibly made before actually taking one sip of alcohol? Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? My day was spent at work while everyone else seemed to have mysteriously taken the day off. Already irritated and burnt out, I decided to flip a coin on whether to meet everyone downtown (really one of the lamest things I could've done in that situation. But anyway heads it was and I was out the door).

From there my two roommates and I began our journey towards the T… only to watch one flash by the second we arrived. I came up with the bright idea for us to run over to the next stop and get on there. Before either of them could agree on making moves I was already barreling down the street like a wrecking ball (feeling light on my feet like a god damn gazelle). As the absolute fattest of the three, I glanced back to see that I left my roommates in the dust. Had no choice but to turn it up and catch the T (what a poor, poor decision).

Paid my fee. Took a seat. Everything seemed to be in order...until I proceed to break out in a violet sweat as 50 people watched on to see if I would eventually vomit. Have you ever straight made a scene in public against your discretion? Well this was certainly one of those times. Got off the next T stop to catch some air and collapse on the sidewalk while my friends continued on downtown (and that about wraps up what was undoubtedly the most pathetic "out of body" experience of my entire life).

Meanwhile, St. Patrick’s Day was in full affect (judging by the fact that I couldn't get on the next three trains because they were at full capacity). Feeling revamped and ready to redeem myself, I finally hopped on the next train. 30 minutes later, there I stood after realizing I completely overshot my destination. At this point I was steaming and literally talking to myself aloud, saying "I will drink and ENJOY at least ONE Guinness to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day by the time this night is over." Got in a cab to assure that I’d be heading in the right direction.

Cab dropped me off directly in front of the place I knew everyone was in. Ran into the two roommates I started my excruciating travels with. They seemed to be thrilled due to the fact that I was alive at the very least. All was in order - just had to wait in line. Bouncer: "Sorry sir, you can't wait past this point in line. You guys are gonna have to take a walk." That was the scene downtown, rejecting anyone in sight - sober, wasted and everywhere in between. What is it the fucking Wonka Factory in there? I've never been turned down from the end of a long line. Just another embarrassing moment that spoke volumes.

So two hours prior I had my hands on my knees, gasping outside ready to throw up because I sprinted 300 yards (give or take - likely less than 300). The last place I should be is struggling to get into some bar. In light of the holiday we continued on to the next place and finally got in.

10:30 pm - my first Guinness. And so the night began...

Thursday, March 17, 2011

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St. Pattys. Drunk. Tired. A little confused.

No post.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

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So there is currently a skunk plaguing my life. I live in a city (I think? Boston?) with some relatively tall buildings and bridges and terrible public transportation, so you would think the biggest animal pestering me should be the mice my landlord never told me about.

However, you would be wrong, because my problem is a legit skunk. He’s kind of like an overweight Pepe Le Pew, but with nowhere near the pizzazz or charisma of that little French sexpot. My skunk is all business. He’s bored, so he’s been stalking the stair pathway from the T up to my development on a nightly basis, since he knows people have to walk there. He seems to be having a mid-life crisis of some sort, leaving his home and kids after work to wander the city in search of adventure. Go home, Old Pepe, I want to say to him. You’re going to regret this later.

But what are you gonna do? I let the little man stink up the neighborhood and I freak out like a maniac whirring around every time I hear a branch snap while I'm walking home, in case he's waddling up behind me. And yes, this is my life. With the direction this is all heading, I have no doubt that I'll post a firsthand account in about a week or two of how absolutely terrible it is to have to take a bath in tomato juice.
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A) The look we all hope to never experience--when a particularly tall female turns out to not really be...a female.

B) A previously stepped on cockroach that someone forgot to scrape up.

C) Someone sitting in a chair, eating an egg salad sandwich they got from 7-Eleven. At 11:59 PM. Right before they bring out the "new" sandwiches.

E) Setting: 1998. One of the lighter-hearted inmates just opened up a gift wrapped Nintendo-Sixty Four.

F) Saw my bracket, and how I have fucking Old Dominion in the Elite 8. Jesus

G) How hard were those "All of the above" answers on tests? Just a real dick move by the Scantron people.
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Answer: Hopefully not well.

The innuendo/horror movie blood in that "Honey" is probably the most off-putting thing about this. Plus they're really short-changing ya with the 1 ounce quantity. That's like 5-6 "honey" slathered "chips." Using these terms loosely.

PS. Did CVS handle the photo job on the chip bag?

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

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Is it just me or does anyone else feel like winter won't be going away just yet. This season we had cars completely covered in snow, a handful of state emergencies, the whole shebang...but just wait.

On a perfect sunny day in late-march you might have to look to the sky and observe some sort of sign...and BAM. One more blizzard to send everyone and their mother in the greater Boston area back to seasonal insanity.

Not ready to let my guard down yet...although I am at the point where I've refused to wear winter jackets any longer. Just a stubborn dude in denial but deep inside still very aware. As soon as my allergies surge back then I'll know its finally springtime...damn.
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^video has shit to do with the post

My worst nightmare every year is seeing a girl being featured in my March Madness pool each year. Not being sexist, but these bitties just prance in all hot and ditzy, pick teams based on god knows what, and walk away with a cool $1000.

How many times am I going to hear, "Oh, he's cute, what team's he on? I'm picking them to win" and "I like cougars wayyyy more than tigers." You know what? Cute guy will propel his abilities to new heights and shoot himself into the final four. Oh and they'll be playing the cougars. I sit on ESPN legitimately 9 hours out of my 8 hour day checking bracketology, calling Joe Lunardi to double check my upsets, and thoroughly investigating the Vegas lines. Then this chick rolls in with her Uggs asking, "what the big deal is"--the big deal is you're probably going to win a ton of money and make a lot of dudes upset.

PS. Who's job is more worthless at ESPN, Joe Lunardi or Matthew Berry?

Monday, March 14, 2011

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Drunkenly sitting in a cab, I saw the time change from 2:19 to 3:20. Keep in mind, I'm not sober. So I start mumbling at the cab driver that his fare machine was broken. He probably heard me, saw my state and didn't respond. Like what cab goes up in fare by a dollar and one cent. That's on some North Dakota boonies shit, where real rules and regulations don't apply.

Went to sleep, woke up, and I was basically a turtle laying on it's back. I was stankily hungover, couldn't deal with putting contacts in, and I was pretty sure I took a trip to the future. I've also noticed that there is no strict announcement of daylight savings time. Shit just happens. Father Time and Rip Van God Damn Winkle pillage your livelihood behind your back and make that crucial Sunday chill-sesh that much shorter. The real loser in daylight savings was the oven. That shit was just lost. Displaying times that just didn't make sense. Not an hour before or after.

Dealing with Y2K related events with appliances twice a year just isn't the move as we're nearing 2012.
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How can Security be so disgruntled by this gentleman soothing the ears of the masses with George Michael's Careless Whisper over and over again. Where's the tip jar at he's killing it. You don't see free performances at random like this everyday. The crowd at the football game was loving it over the halftime show and the dude in the back of the biology class was clearly smitten.

When Flashmob is out doing chorus line there's just too much shit going on. There is something to be said about a one-man show taking over the scene with the pure sound of his saxaphone. Just a superstar above the law and we'll leave it at that.
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The minute right after the dance circle ends is easily one of the most confusing moments that a 20something can deal with. Right up there with: "What's the point of a savings account?" and "When do my parents stop paying my cell phone bill?"

It's a weird spot. Kind of makes me think of being alone in a desert. You just danced your ass off for like 5 minutes and 33 seconds--or however long "Fireworks" is, and then it's over. The circle disperses, you're dripping from sweat, and all your friends are gone. Myself and Craw have been in this situation too many times to count. Drunk as fuck, assessing how you danced, but really assessing your position in life.

Let's face it, we've all been dancing in the same bar basement for years now. The dance circles are really just there to let us know we should probably do something else.

Friday, March 11, 2011

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In my two years being in the workforce I've done just about everything possible that can mess up your day. I'm sure there are tons of mistakes that you can make during your work day, but I've narrowed it down to the top 10:

#1-Getting cords tangled--Word to the bitty up top. It's safe to say she will not be logging onto the internet anytime soon. Or clicking things. Or turning the computer on for that matter. Tough start to the day.

#2-Making a fatal error in outfit selection--Thought that was a blue shirt? Turns out it's purple. Forgot you owned a purple shirt? That's why we should all ask Grandma for a check instead of letting her shop for us on Christmas.

#3-Accidentally stapling your finger--I've been involved in this little snafu more times than I'd like to admit, but it's just a sign of being a warrior. It's basically the office worker equivalent to those calluses you get on your hands from bench pressing. At least that's what I tell myself.

#4-Spilling your coffee on yourself--You get hit by all five senses on this one. Hot coffee obviously burns, that shit's gonna smell, you DIDN'T get to taste it, your clothes are discolored, and you're going to hear people laughing at you for a solid 8 hours.

#5-Fumbling your words--Co-worker: "Good Morning, Dub J"
Dub J-"I'm good, thanks"
Co-worker: "What?"
...yeah, exactly

#6-Farting in the break room--Self-explanatory. Just know that anytime you do it (guys only, because girls don't fart), every woman in your office will all of a sudden need to get a glass of what from the break room. Karma. Just like the club they go to every night on Jersey Shore.

#7-Typing multiple typos when someone is watching you type something--Happened to me today. I'm a regular Mavis Beacon when no one is around. Setting my keyboard on fire and shit. As soon as someone has to watch me type something, I clam up, catch a bit of the stupid, and it's just an embarrassing display.

#8-Accidentally hitting the speakerphone button on the phone--Way more annoying than you think it is, so refrain from hitting that big red button that is graphically displaying a speaker. The sound of the dial tone just makes me want to commit murder-suicide.

#9-Calling someone the wrong name in front of people--You've been at your company for like a year. So has this person. You've even been on the same team for a few projects. Hell, you typed his name on all of your team specific documents. Then all of a sudden "Tom" becomes "Dick" when a few people are enjoying their lunch in the break room. Why'd you call him Dick of all names? Idiot.

#10-Singing in the bathroom when you think you're the only one there, but you're not--Another personal fave. I'm essentially a zombie for 40 hours a week, so I kind of block things out a lot. Namely bathroom etiquette. I belted out at least the first minute and 18 seconds of "Rocketeer" while taking my talents to the toilet. Low and behold after about 5 minutes of just mumbling assorted verses, the toilet a few down from me flushes. Jesus. Christ. Creates one of those lift-p-your-shoes-so-they-can't-identify-you vibe in there.

I think I'm going to do "Not Top Ten's" every Friday.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

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Game quickly went from "E" for Everyone to "M" for mature. I was pretty damn eeked out by what just transpired. That mushroom part was plain graphic.

This shit put Super Mario in real perspective for me. It's not just fun and games saving a princess every two seconds. It's life or death out there. Dude's got an established career as a plumber to think about. Can't go around falling down pipes, getting his arm snapped by Goombas, and falling off the screen like that. Peach should probably call the police next time she gets taken to another castle.
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If any of you work in those big office buildings or frequent malls, you know what I mean. Revolving doors present a real touch and go issue.

Let me paint you a picture. One revolving door, 4 individual doors within it. Two people walking at the same pace towards the door. What happens? Well I clearly have no idea because one time I accidentally nudged an old woman out of the way because I thought it was "my time." You know that time. When you think it's your shot to go into the revolver. Like a great white light is compelling you to enter at that exact moment. Guess it was that old woman's moment that I stole. My bad. Karma stung immediately after that because I got stuck within the doors. My book bag was in one door, my body was in another, and there was an old woman confused, almost moved to tears. A real calamity. I thought a fucking fireman was going to have to come and get me out.

How about we make some eye contact people? Maybe recognize that we're going to run into each other and be stuck in some revolving door purgatory. Like a god damn cat stuck in a tree.
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Since, as you may or may not know, I am a non-working woman, I still get the awesomeness that is Spring Break, and I still use it to drive my Mazda back to Scranton, PA and watch old seasons of Grey's Anatomy with my mom. Who needs Cancun anyway? I've got an old abandoned coal town with no hope that SNL called a "genetic cesspool."

But I'm returning to Boston today, towing along little bro Dave (turning 21 soon), who is a cool kid. I'm happy about this. Then I get the call from Dave that his other friend is coming, and bringing his girlfriend, who is apparently still in highschool.

Okay, I'm still down with this. I'm taking a car to Boston anyway, I don't really mind if there's some extra underage people in it. Plus odds are I'll get gas money. Then Dave tells me we are going to pick her up at my high school, where we may have to sign her out. Excuse me, did I give birth and not notice? When did I become a soccer mom taking the brood on a family vacation to Boston?

However, I'm a good person, so I don't complain. Until we get the call that Dave's friend's little sister (getting younger and younger) who is MY little sister's age (that would be 16) and friend, wants to come along too.

NOW I'm basically driving the Magic Mazda back to Boston with this car full of kids, and probably morphing into a curly haired kindergarten teacher named Ms. Frizzle along the way. I hope I get a dinosaur co-pilot too (it's definitely a dinosaur, right?) Wish me luck, kids.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

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As a 23-year old who blew his arm out pitching years ago - old man softball seems like a realistic alternative, but I think after watching something like this I'm definitely out. Imagine how this dude acts at his job when there's a problem. Wouldn't want to be next to his cubicle when he couldn't close a sale.

Also how about the guy screaming pick it up. You can tell he was just waiting for the right moment to explode on his fat friend in sheer frustration. I posted on basketball leagues months back and recently came to the realization that similar things would come into play on the diamond. I guess when there's a score someobdy's gotta win right? The game never gets easier.
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I don't know about you guys, but janglin' change in my pocket is one of the worst experiences that can possibly happen to me. Sit me in front of a televised baseball game with change in my pocket and I just might kill myself. Seriously.

I don't know what the stigma behind it is. Maybe I attract more homeless. Maybe I'm annoying people with the janglin'. I don't know, but the shit's bothersome. Anyways, they're talking about removing the dollar bill from circulation. Just a nightmare scenario. Granted, I use my card for just about every purchase, but on the rare occasion that I'm feeling frisky or want to get some gummy bears (who buys a single pack of gummy bears with a debit/credit card), I use cash. Dollar bills. Strip Clubs. What?! Think about the strippers please America. I know they're not real people, but it's their subsentence. That's like taking double cheeseburgers away from me. I'll probably be dead in like 3 days. Don't do that to the scrippas.

Bartenders. The other victim. You know when you get drunk and you try to tip when your cards not open with some cash? Think about the options. You're either leaving an assortment of coins, which may or may not land safely on the bar counter or you're leaving a fucking $5 bill. Outrageous. I know my abilities to land dollars safely on the counter waver at like beer 7, so imagine the free for all with coins. Bartenders slipping all over the place, spilling your beers and shit. Not a good look America.
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I can easily be a skeptic and say they got some of those sticky lights, tossed them in some Glad bags and kept them underwater with a cinder block, but I'll dodge that form of reasoning.

Apparently these little creatures are running amok down in the depths, and whenever they are frightened they immediately turn light blue. First off, how is that a fucking defense mechanism? If I'm anything that eats those things, I may be thrown off for like .03 seconds, but inevitably I'm eating these Smurf mofos. That's what you get for being flashy.

My concern are these people in the water. If I got wind of any unknown creatures, let alone unknown creatures that light up when they get scared, there is NO god damn chance I'm coming within 30 feet of that water. Like, if the water's blue these things are obviously scared. That's their M.O.--being scared and turning into blue light. But what are they scared of is the question. These people (are they people?) don't seem to share my ideas on this. Whatever, that's why I'm smarter and not dead like I'm sure they are.

Mulder and Scully better be on their way.
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Probably one of the most useless ideas I've heard in awhile. This would be like putting a nude chick smack in the middle of every "Where's Waldo" bit. Waldo would go un-found for decades. Not a soul giving a shit.

You think I'm going to be flipping 12 packs on their side just to see what's good with that niacin? Hell no. Instead of putting facts no one cares about like "nutrition" on the side of these beers, let me know the logistics of how I'm going to get drunk. Like, if I buy a Bud Heavy for some ungodly reason, let me know via factoid that I'm probably going to need to sit down afterwards because that shit's heavy. Maybe tape one of those re-printable stickers on the side of my Gin&Tonic and that say's something like, "try to not throw up in a cab tonight man"--you know something useful.

So until then, I guess I'm going to casually get high blood pressure due to that lofty 9% sodium up there. Boobs in a game of Waldo I say.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

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Big month for tigers huh? Before Charlie Sheen lost his mind, Tigers were merely cool. Now due to the phrase "Tiger Blood", tigers everywhere are getting a new sense of entitlement.

In an outlandish play, a tiger broke into a lion's cage today and just beat the shit out of it. Fed up with the lion being the headliner with: the "King of the Jungle", Lion King 1 (and ONLY 1), and being the most dominant in the animal cracker community. This tiger flipped on his television, saw that the buzz-phrase of the month is #TigerBlood or however that Twitter number sign bullshit works, and took action. Action being murder of a lion. As sad as it is to hear that an animal died in this altercation, I'm wondering if the tiger is the new king of the jungle? Ps I'm pretty sure lions nor tigers live in jungle. Oh well, the tiger's got the Juice now I guess.

Just waiting for the late surge by the elephant. I see your strategy. Laying low, being big and slow as fuck, spotting out an ideal time to stomp out a tiger when it's not looking. Prediction: Elephant will be king of jungle by 2025. My kids will be so confused when I tell them that title used to belong to the lion.
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Here is Stereo Drive-By's debut music video Back to Seventeen. Shot in the streets of Boston early on and later capturing us getting wild at one of our shows downtown by Fenway. Check for some upcoming shows at Selflesh promotion I know my apologies - but hey, gotta snatch up some ad space whenever possible.
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This bear is just running a clinic in acquiring picnic baskets. Clearly, ravaging campgrounds and murdering innocents is played out these days. And those assholes at Yellowstone never got anything done with their douchebaggery. I'm looking at you Yogi and Boo-Boo.

Our friend above is calling a spade a spade, and I can do nothing but respect the hell out of that. He's coming through like, "Hey man, let's cut the mullarky. I just want a sandwich and some potato salad. I'll also probably kill you regardless of what you do, but let's be cordial about this." When you present yourself like this, you're making things happen. Hell, he might have earned himself a packet of Gummi-Bears for his effort, which is just messed up on more than a few levels.

This is a lesson to you all in your cubicles. Present yourself for the job/picnic basket you want, not the one you have. I guess?

Monday, March 7, 2011

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I feel you dawg...looks like there's just not gonna be enough peanut butter to go around these days. Apparently state health officials announced a recall of certain types of Skippy peanut butter because of possible salmonella. This report just really hit home due to my annual consumption of a PB and J every morning (Don't get me wrong...a lot of times it's on the dinner menu as well).

Just brought the news to Dub Jeezy and he immediately pointed out how much this directly affects me. But seriously what the hell do I do now? Not switching over to Peter Pan that's for sure. How about actually learning how to cook? Please. I guess me and the other somewhat young professionals out there with no means to a good meal will just have to grin and bear it for a little while.

Alright so I'm not gonna sit here and LeBron out in the midst of this whole debacle. Time to beat the system once again. The city of Boston told me last year to stay away from tap water and I made it. Just brushed my teeth and showered right through sickness there. Skippy, Subway, Lean Cuisines and Dunkin D's it remains.
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^fast forward to the 1:00 mark--I don't know WHAT was happening before then..

This video is going to be the main focus of the nightmare that I have tonight. Was a robot talking? There did not seem to be one person, if any, in charge or involved in this operation. Whatever, they just kept feeding that claw/seal and it kept draining. In the end, you can't knock the hustle.

I don't know what to make of this thing shooting at a 99% clip. If China can create a devious seal-claw combo, than why can't Yao Ming play more than 18 games in a season? Dude has bones made of Sour Patch Kids. How about you guys concentrate on improving the quality of health for your one real basketball player, rather than pumping up this seal that's only basketball future involves winning a TON of stuffed animals from carnival basketball trick shots.

How long before Watson from Jeopardy and this seal-claw team up and just start dominating bar trivia and pick-up basketball games along the East Coast?

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Look at this chick's face--pure accomplishment in knowing that another problem is solved. Having a rough flight? Baby crying behind you? Toss it in the overhead, slide on your Beats by Dre headphones, and Bermuda here you come.

Sure, some people may frown upon this practice. Like, for example, the airline that fired this chick because she straight up jacked a baby from it's father's grasp during a mild-mannered game of peekaboo, and tossed it in the overhead. No one likes peekaboo, the flight attendant was doing the family and the entire flight a favor. Oh shit, the baby literally thought you disappeared because you put your hands on your face. Riveting. Those types of antics get you a 4 hour trip in the compartment.

Just wrap it in some bubble wrap, surround it with soft objects, and attach a bowl of milk to the bottom of the compartment. Basically treat it like if you were putting some wet cleats in the dryer. Don't want to hear things bouncing around, so stuff some pillows and extra towels in there.

I'm going to hell.
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Craw, Myself, and G would like to welcome you all to the new look Working Man's Diary.

Getting this new page was swallow-a-cyanide-pill worthy, but it got done god dammit. Also, this is a fantastic filler post to cover up my almost debilitating writer's block.

PS. This is arguably (but not arguably) the best looking team of bloggers on the entire internet.

Friday, March 4, 2011

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So on a normal day, just walking to class, late, after a grueling morning T ride and inevitable stop at Dunkin Donuts, I'm forced to stop short yet again when I pass THIS gem of a flyer. The words "Human Centipede" alone are awkward, even if I didn't already know that they refer to an absurd horror movie about a mad scientist attaching some people to each other. I think it's safe to say something like that should never be MUSICAL. Its non-musical existence is already questionable.

But what really brings this all home is the girl with the turquoise gel pen who wrote a heartfelt "yes! <3" at the top. Is this really the one thing that made you stop in your day and whip out your Lisa Frank art supplies in support? Who are you??

I'll be keeping an eye out for a Human Centipede musical AND for this girl. I'm not sure which one I'm more worried about.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

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Apparently it's in the works for Nickelodeon to run new episodes of the classic heavyweight shows that include Rugrats, Hey Arnold and Rocket Power. I don't know about you but this is the best thing I've heard since KFC introduced the Double Down (really says a lot about my life in general doesn't it).

This is gonna be a whirlwind sending me straight back to the fifth grade. Definitely will be running home from work to catch the latest episodes. If only MTV would just bring back Total Request Live then all would be right with the world again. Don't kid yourself. We all miss this shit.
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When you see country bumpkins put together a roller-coaster with extra pieces of a K-Nex set you are expecting some fireworks. Or at the very least expecting to see the dude nearly die while going through that loop.

Not that I'm a sadist or anything, but I was truly disappointed in the outcome of this video. So much more negative will come from this than positive. Dudes all over Arkansas and South Dakota are going to want roller coasters in their backyards now. I don't want to go to an SEC football game in the future and have everyone riding homemade roller-coasters instead of getting fucked up on moonshine. That's not a good look for the south, and I hope a similar alternative video surfaces of a dude not quite making it through the loop.

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Just want to point out the latest cover of Rolling Stone, featuring Snooki in short fringe shorts and cowgirl boats, twirling a lasso, slapping her own ass, AND riding a giant silver rocket to being more famous and rich than any of us can even think about. She IS America. Her and Charlie Sheen could be our ruling king and queen, and we could watch them reign on the best reality TV show ever made. Plus, I'm going to say it: she looks bangin' (in her own Snooki way) in that outfit. I just hope she doesn't shrink into a skinny little non-Snooki if this fame keeps up. Rock on and don't ditch the pickles, "America's #1 Party Girl." Forget Gatsby in 3D, YOU are the American dream.

P.S. Snooki to MTV: "Vinny definitely compares to the rocket I sat on." Yepp.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

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How about some better appreciation for the men in blue after reading Jim Caple's piece on his session at the Wendelstedt umpire school. I don't know how many times I've looked to home plate in complete disbelief from the stands or atop the mound myself. I mean there's undoubtedly a number of people waiting for the day we get irobot out there to avoid another chance at Galarraga-gate.

But man, I really felt Caple's pain when he couldn't even spit out ball or strike in the cage. Heads or tails got it - 50% chance. Sure I think it's easy while stretched out blogging about it...but isn't that why I'm back here blogging? Making the big leagues - dream is over. Coaching - doubt it. Calling the game - no way. Maybe in little league. So essentially all guys like me and Caple are left to do is sit here and criticize.

Check the line of umpires above stretching each morning like they're in boot camp...Crazy right? Well my friends that's cause they are pretty much taking part in boot camp. These sessions run all day from the classroom to the field. Caple said it best here: "I've covered baseball for 25 years and have seen more than 2,000 games at the major league level. I've watched countless others on TV. I know the game. And I get 20 percent of the questions correct on one test."

A little more respect for the guys behind home plate shouting their heads off. Go ahead and tack on a few informationals for your buddy Craw.
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Let's be honest fellas, you're scared shitless. With all of these "labor talks" and fruitless "negotiations", it's safe to say we are about to be knee deep in no real sports being on TV for quite some time.

We're talking about the preposterous idea of having to watch Major League Baseball every day and the even more far-fetched thought of watching Premier League Soccer. Like I can't even imagine that. I can imagine getting hit by a car, but I can't imagine soccer being my only option for sports satiation for an entire year. I think I'm going to throw up.

Looks like I'm going to have to develop a...hobby. What's a hobby I ask? Not sure. I think it's something you do when you're not athletic. This little graphic is no help either. I'm pretty sure I'm not a white male/female living in Greenwich, Connecticut. Equestrian? Lacrosse? Anchoring??! Please. With that said, I will absolutely begin anchoring if both of these sports become temporarily defunct. Sailing the high seas dropping anchors in water, killing 5-8 aquatic creatures, possibly destroying some coral, I don't know. We'll make a party out of it.

Someone better step up at some of these high-level sports meetings and resolve this shit or else we will be fast approaching "Anchoring Man's Diary" status. Craw being my swashbuckling pirate sidekick and G just soaking the rays, not doing shit despite my pleas for her to teach me what Anchoring means.
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Granted, if I was a geezer with these guys' mileage, I'd 100% think that was ET in the tree trunk. I'd also think it was about 4000 other things too because I'd be so far gone, nothing would make sense anymore.

I'm confused at what makes news anymore these days. I can imagine this guy calling in to whoever he called (it wasn't the cops right?) and that person simply not caring enough. That would be the end of that in a normal world. Not in Glousterchire, UK, where apparently not a damn thing happens.

ET in a tree trunk? The nerve of these people.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

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Never seen a dude killing the scene like Charlie is right now. Each day I get a new favorite quote from this guy. First one was, "I'm made up of tiger's blood. I have Adonis' DNA." That was featured on our Twitter (@WMsDiary..ahem) because I was bored and probably got flagged at work for putting that up. My 2nd, 3rd, and 4th favorite quotes are featured in this video.

The only way WMD can do better than winning is "bi-winning", so we're just going to go about the rest of our blogs with a(2x)winners mentality.
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Legit wrote two posts on god knows what a few minutes ago, and Google Chrome just decided to destroy them. Acting like I didn't put a solid 6 minutes combined into both of those things.

Iran. Those sons of bitches act fast don't they? Made a post yesterday about them coming at the London Olympics logo, and next thing you know, I'm getting attacked via internet warfare. Actually I don't even know if this is Iran's doing because Google Chrome is acting real shady too. Just straight up won't give me the option to post blogs. Trying to smoke me out.

I'm not budging. As long as the trusty default Internet Explorer is here to make me think it's 2001 or something, I'll be here to stay...