Merry Christmas, From "Us"

So we just got finished with the holiday season and I would like to address one topic that is quite vexing to me. Hopefully by throwing this out there people will realize what a travesty this really is.

I find it very distressing that during the gift giving process I have to get gifts for each and every one of my loved ones, yet if they are a married couple I get just one gift from the both them. Now I'm not out to get more gifts, I'm just troubled by the principle here. A bad precedent has already been set and society has made it completely acceptable for this practice to continue.

I find myself stressed out during the holidays as I take on the arduous task of getting a gift for each and every member of my family. I scour the malls, Wal-Marts, Amazon.coms, and Ebays looking for just that perfect gift. By the time Christmas rolls around I am more exhausted than Rosie O'Donnell after running the New York marathon. As a couple you only have to take half of that responsibilty. Heck, you are probably only paying for half of gifts and maybe consulting on few or none of them!

All I would like to do is even the playing field. I say no more cards that read "From Mom and Dad" or from Autie Rae and Uncle Leon". Take some responsibilty and do the right thing. The single guy has enough disadvantages as it is. At least don't make me shoulder the whole burdon of being Santa Claus every year.

Couples have gotten away with this since the beginning of time. In fact I do believe I remember reading how Adam and Eve gave their son Cain an Atari 2600 but he had to shell out his hard earned rupees for gifts for BOTH his parents. Does this seem fair to you? Me either.

Again, I am not out for more presents. In fact I probably enjoy giving gifts to recieving them. I just want these couples that are getting away with murder to step up and take accoutability. Don't hide behind your status as a duo during the single most generous time of year.

Apartment Ablaze

My living room has recently become an inferno. After turning on the heat for the first time this year I apparently broke the nozzle and have subjected myself to daily saunas. It is turned all the way off, but the heat is still stuck on the hottest possible setting for some reason.

Last night I woke up in a hot sweat as the wave of heat wafted into my bedroom. I rolled over in bed and found a soiled sheet on my backside. I had my pull-ups on, so it couldn't have been pee. I had so much sweat coming off me I would have made Richard Simmons jealous.

It has gotten so bad in here that I have had to counteract the heat by opening the screen door as far as it will go. So now I have 95 degree heat blasting its way into my living room, while the wave of 37 degree cool winter air cascades in forcefully. Thankfully both forces have combined to make a livable environment for the time being. Unfortunately there has been a rash of mini tornados running amuck in my apartment. I failed to remember that when hot and cold air get together twisters arise. I just have to remember the eye of the tornado is my friend. Just to be safe I put all my knives and letter openers away.

I guess I am going to have to go report this to my landlord. I am usually stubborn and try to fix these things by myself, but this has gotten so bad that I will just have to cave in. I have dropped 3 pounds, but I'm not sure the trade off is worth it to be living in Equador. Hopefully I survive long enough to blog again. So long.

Meet Herb the Janitor

The other day I was assigned to watch the front desk at my office building for an hour or so. It was actually a nice change of pace during the middle of the day. I was really getting into the part; confronting visitors, signing for packages, even controlling the almighty door buzzer.

Suddenly up walks the janitor draped in his blue custodial jumpsuit waiting to drop off his keys and check out for the day. Now I had no idea of my responsibilities at this point. Was I supposed to give him the okay? Give him a high five for a job well done on placing the urinal cakes in the exact center of the stall creating a target for all the full bladders to practice on? He just stood there looking at me. This man is usually quieter than an ionic breeze fan. You could tell he does not get much human interaction on a day to day basis. But he just kept staring at me like I was one of those 3D art photographs where the hidden image appears only after intense concentration.

Eventually I started making small talk with him just to break the awkward silence. Fast forward five minutes: I apparently have a new best friend. Ok rewind back to the five minutes prior. Talking to this lonely janitor was like opening up Pandora’s Box. It only took one random act of kindness to get him to catapult out of his shell and share his life history to me. I guess not too many people take the time to do a little stop-and-chat with those in the sanitary arts. He instantaneously turned into a fifteen year old girl lying on her bed with her feet in the air talking to her best friend on the phone. No secret was spared. I heard the wretched details of how his wife cheated on him and now he is on his own in a shitty studio apartment on south side of town. He's not going to be doing this forever though. Once he invents his new cleaning solution things will be different. He was impossible to shut up. From his myriad of jobs to the bunions on his left foot, I knew it all. If only I could have gone back in time, given him a polite nod, and sent him on his way.

So I have a new pal, but that is not so bad. All I have to do is shoot the shit with him every once in a while and it makes his day. Plus, I have always had a soft spot in my heart for janitors. Just ask our good ole buddy Doug Page of Hy-Vee fame.

I guess the moral of this story is be careful who you befriend. Once a shy loner realizes that someone is actually interested in talking to them, they have a new best friend. Thankfully Herb gave me the BFF bracelet to prove it. He now flaunts his with pride and joy.

Do you know how old I am?

Have you ever noticed how senior citizens like to advertise their age at any possible moment? It's almost as if it's their badge of honor and they love to flaunt it. I deal with this almost everyday at my job and it gives me a nice chuckle everytime I hear it.

Old people use their age as their most valid excuse for any problem. When I call them up on the phone first off they have no idea what is up from down. I have to spend ten minutes just explaining the problem. At which point they usually say, "now see here sonny, I am 86 years old and I don't have to listen to this." Being over 70 apparently excludes you from any responisibilty in your life. I actually talked to a woman who was 94 and she hadn't paid her bill in 5 months. "I don't have to pay, I'm 94 years old! I'm gonna be dying soon anyway so what do I care?" I just laugh and let them know that I really don't care and they have made my day more joyous from being able to laugh at the swashbuckling attitude.

I just can't wait until I get to that age in my life. I just want to be the most crotchety old man you can think of. I just want to sit around the porch and tell stories of the olden days all the while sipping some crystal light. I will never let a moment go by where I don't tell someone that I am 76 and damn proud of it. Because when you are that old you can pretty much get away with anything. You can steal, lie, pinch women's asses and never be punished because hey, you are old. It's pretty much a licence to do whatever you want as long as you state your age immediately after the action. Move over Wilford Brimley, I'm comin your way in about 50 years.

NFL Playoffs, fantastic

Boy, is it that time of year again already? The NFL playoffs are nearly upon us and I think you all know what that means.

I know Doug Page is dusting off his tophat because inside will go the names of 12 NFL teams and the dreams of one lucky employee at HyVee. It's just unfortunate that only a dozen fortunate individuals can take partake in this tradition of traditions. Who needs a pool where you actually pick the outcomes of the games and use your intelligence to help decide if you are a good gambler? I know I prefer to let lady luck decide if I walk away with all or nothing, doesn't everybody?

It basically boils down to a game of roullette with NFL teams playing the part of the numbers. Everyone who decides to enter puts 2 dollars into the pool and gets to draw the name of one of the teams. If your team wins the Super Bowl, you walk away with pride, bragging rights for the year, and nice chunk of change to boot.

I still think back to 2001 when I picked one of the wild card qualifiers in the New England Patriots. No one thought they could do anything, but with Doug Page's pool, I had enough bravado to root root root for Tom Brady and the underdog Patriots all the way to the super bowl and into my wallet with a whopping 24 dollars! Since that year the Pats have gone on to dominate the NFL for the last 5 years. I'd like to think I played a little part in that dynasty, since I was the only one who believed in them. Tom Brady thinks so too since he still sends me a Christmas card every year.

*In case my sarcasm was laid on a bit too thick, I think this is a dumb ass idea for a pool. He should just let in as many people that want in and people should try and pick all the games like an NCAA Tournament pool. But who am I to mess with tradition? I guess I won't argue with success hogman.

Safety Second

I realize that in today's fast paced society one does not have the time to complete all of the day's monotonous tasks all by their lonesome. So certain times a person must be able to juggle a few of these at a time in order to save a few of the precious minutes of the day.

I see a lot of these combinations applied when driving an automobile and it is beginning to scare me. I can tolerate people talking on their cell phones while driving, eating a cheeseburger, or even watching their dashboard dvd players. But today I witnessed the coup de grace when it comes to vehicle multitasking. A young girl, no older than 18 years old, was driving the steering wheel with her knees and using both of her free hands to operate a eyelash curler, all the while leaning forward peering into her rearview mirror for reinforcement. I frankly could not believe my own uncurled eyes when I saw this. Here I was driving down I-80 at a 70 mph clip, all the while driving next to a chick paying more attention to her own shapliness than the very road in which we were sharing.

What is so important about curling eyelashes that she couldn't wait until she was in the comfort of her own home? My life could have been hanging in the balance with one unfortunately placed pothole or obstacle in her lane. She could have swerved me off the road and my whole body could have ended up spiraled like a Taco Bell cinnamon twist. Now thats a curl she would have been green with envy over.

Here I thought I was doing a pretty darn good job when i could brush my teeth and put on my pants at the same time. This girl was turning her car into a beauty salon. Maybe next time she could put rollers in her hair and start filing away at her toenails and have the little cotton swabs in between the toes to complete the treatment that she apparently immediately needed.

It just seems everyday I lose more and more faith in humanity.

Eye Can't See!

I have come upon a very scary moment in my life. You guessed it, it's time for an eye exam to fix my failing eyesight. Lately I have been blind as a bat and I'm not too happy about it. It has gotten to the point that I have even started to squint behind my specs. I'm just hoping after I am done that I don't end up getting glasses that look like Jerry from that episode of Seinfeld where he has to wear the bottlecap frames. But at this point any improvement will be a welcomed one.

My whole future of seeing rests squarely on this eye test, which is a daunting proposition. Everytime I do one of these things I am more nervous than Michael Jackson in a day care. I think back to all the other eye tests I have taken in my life and my stomach toils just thinking about it. The worst part is sticking my head in that machine and making these important decisions and not being sure what the hell I am doing. As the doctor goes back and forth between the different screenshots all the doubt in my head creeps in and I'm never more unsure about anything in my whole life. "The first one. The first one is definately clearer. Wait a minute...maybe it was the second one now that I think about it. Can you go back to the first one again? Ok, now back to the second one. Wait are you sure this was the same second image as before? It looks different. Each one of them is fucking blurry, I can't distinguish between the two! You're killin me doc."

Why do they have to make it so hard to be able to take this test? It's like trying to tell the difference between Mary Kate and Ashley while watching Full House reruns. But I feel so embarrassed asking the doctor to go back and forth between the images that I'm relegated to settling for horrible sight as opposed to looking like a kid who escaped from the short bus because he can't decide which one he can see better.

So here I am again, on the precipice of taking another one of these eye exams that will determine whether or not I am able to look at something further than 20 yards away without having to squint as hard as French Stewart of 3rd Rock from the Sun fame. Wish me luck!

Move Over Football and Basketball

A few months ago I was able to rediscover one of my favorite past times after a long absense. On my trip to Worlds of Fun last summer i was so pleasantly distracted from the nausia endusing rides by one of the greatest games ever invented....skeeball. Now, I know you all probably skoff and smirk at this notion, but let me take a moment to remind you about the wonders that accompany this game. Skeeball, in fact, is as old as time. Not many know that skeeball was one of the first Olympic sports. Thats why the Olympic symbol has 5 rings. They all represent the cylinders from a skeeball game board. Also, the Incas and Mayans held skeeball contests where the losers were stoned. After the conclusion of a rousing contest, the victor would bludgeon the poor loser to death with the balls. This was serious business folks.

It takes an incredible amount of deft touch to be able to fling that wooden ball into the 1000 point cylinder. I know it took me quite a while to be able to regain just the right amount of english to be able to convert the attempt.

It is also a game of great gambles. Sitting all alone on the sides of the game are the 1000 point cylinders. Now if you try for these and miss you are giving up a whole mess of points. You will only be awared 100 points for a failed attempt. A conservative player can play towards the center of the board and get more guaranteed points, but also never maximize their score to its highest potential. Personally, I prefer to take the Kenny Rogers route and go for broke and the big points. After a few consecutive successful attempts, I then take it down a notch and go for some 400's and 500's like any sensible person would. Thankfully, my strategy paid off at Worlds of Fun as I was able to obtain enough tickets to be able to swap them for a stuffed animal.

Since my love for this magical games was rekindled, I have recently entertained the thought of building my own skeeball machine. It would take a lot of work, but it would definately be worth it. To be able to hop up from bed and rocket off some skeeballs before my morning coffee would be priceless. I'm sure my neighbors would be lining up to try their hand at the game that will soon be sweeping the nation. I'm hoping to lead that skeeball revolution personally. When I open up my sports bar I will definately be including a skeeball machine or two for some heated competition.

Hopefully ESPN starts picking up skeeball tournaments to air, since they are now showing mini golf, spelling bees, and dominoes. If people watch those things, certainly they would tune in to watch the drama and prestige that skeeball presents. If ESPN does not have the foresight to put skeeball on the air, perhaps they can put it on their sister station ESPN8, "The Ocho".

My wish is that soon everywhere children across the United States hang up their kleats, retire their basketball jerseys, and put the baseball glove in the garage. I will be there to hand them a half dozen balls and show them just a little glimpse of the good life my friends.

No Cure for this Cold

As the harsh chill of winter fastly approaches I once again realize that I have the luxury of being able to predict the approximate outside temperature simply by listening to the most accurate weatherman i know, my Jeep Cherokee.

All I have to do is listen closely to how the engine purrs to me, and I become Punxatawny Phil. I can accurately predict within 2 degrees simply by feeling how long it takes my body temperature to rise back to my comfortable 98.6 from my frigid beginnings when entering the vehicle.

The first thing you must understand about my jeep is that it is old, rickety, and has more cracks and openings than a brothel. Heat leaks out of this thing like water would from a puncture in the Hoover Dam. I have to constantly have the heat on high, which starts off at around 42 degrees just to try and get this thing at normal room temperature. And the vent air rises in temperate about 2 degrees a minute, so you can imagine it takes quite a while to produce enough heat to be able to warm up that glacier wannabe. A popsicle in Alaska would warm up faster than my car. I'm thinking of keeping a blanket in my car to put over my legs so that I can keep my legs from falling off from hypothermia. I think it may be my only hope this winter.

The scale is as follows:

-If it takes me the duration of my drive to work in order to get my body to stop shaking, then it is definately under 15 degrees.

-If it takes more than 3 seconds to ignite the car, then it is under 25 degrees.

-If the sound when the door opens is a louder squeak than a family of mice all under a spring loaded trap then it is between 11 and 16 degrees.

-If my trusty 4-wheeled friend refuses to start, then it is under 5 degrees.

-If the battery is the reason it is not starting, then it's Tuesday.

-and lastly, if get trapped in the car with a frozen shut door, then who cares how cold it is, I will probably just end up dying.

It may be time to invest in a new mode of transporation, but it will be tough to say goodbye to such a trusted comrade. Hopefully I can make it through this winter with all my extremities intact, and can make enough money to buy a car that doesn't make my fingers numb simply at the touch of the steering wheel.

zzzzz

As I finish up my turkey dinner this Thanksgiving day I am reminded of my everlasting quest to get the perfect night of sleep. In fact, I am nodding off even as I write this. No matter how hard i try I can never get the right amount. I spend all my time during the day longing for a pillow to rest my weary eyes. I am constantly tired no matter what happened the night before so I am starting to think I am destined to be a daytime zombie.

If I get a short night sleep I predictably spend the following day in a groggly haze. Sitting a desk stationary all day doesn't help the cause, let me tell you. I spend each passing hour at my job pining for a quick moment to attempted to awaken my lethargic body.

If I sleep too long I suffer the same fate. I am starting to think maybe I should follow the Cosmo Kramer school of thought when it comes to resting. I think I will try to sleep 40 minutes every 2 hours. It might electroshock my body back into coherance. Plus, it would free up so many of those nighttime hours that I rarely have the pleasure of enjoying. Hopefullly that works, but Wells Fargo might not be too fond of me hiding a hammock under my desk for those precious 40 minutes. Maybe I am just doomed to fall victim to chronic fatigue forever.

Still Good, Still Good

What is it about eating popcorn and other treats that makes people turn into savages? I'd like to share an experiecne I had recently that speaks the weakness humans suffer when it comes to eating sweets.

As I sat in the Jordan Creek theater waiting for my moviefilm to begin, I was treated to a nice show before the show. This not-so-svelte looking young man was devouring his large bucket of popcorn not 15 feet from me. It wasn't just that he was stuffing his face with Iowa's favorite crop, but he was eating more off of his shirt than from the bag itself. His chest and lap were basically his dinnerplate. Inbetween every crease and crevasse of his shirt he found another piece that was hiding from his famished mouth. He would leave no kernal uneaten. Watching this kid pick through his shirt was like watching monkeys at the zoo clean each other for ticks. He looked high and low for every elusive piece that may have dropped between his grubby fingers.

Then the capper. He picked up pieces of dropped popcorn from the theater floor and proceeded to eat them. I have actually seen this take places many other times, so I cannot blame only this young man for enrolling in the dirty dining club by himself. Countless times I have seen people pick up fallen popcorn on carpets, counters, and hardwood floors only to shove them in their pieholes unabashed. Now granted, when popcorn lies stationary, only a small portion of it is actually touching the ground, but that does not make it right to consume tainted food. I have also seen this kind of spectacle with other kinds of candy. Any M&M, Reece's, Rolos or other chocolate treats that hit the ground are still fair game apparently. What makes these kind of treats so much different that other foods? You don't see people dropping a fork full of Salisbury Steak on their tile and scooping it right back up to their face. I guess the human weakness for sweets really changes matters and turns us into savage beasts. I hope these people enjoy bacteria with their Baby Ruths because that's what they are getting. I guess we are no better than animals when it comes to feeding our inner desire for goodies.

Armrest Etiquette

I would like to take a moment to address a growing epidemic in our country, bad armrest etiquette. When you are in a public place and sit next to a person in a seat with armrests, it is only common courtesy to allow sharing of this luxury item. It is not to be dominated by one person alone. We were all taught to share as young children, but apparently some people don't think this applies in real life situations.

On my recent vacation to California I was unfortunate enough to sit next to a man who has no concept of armrest etiquette. As I got to my seat while boarding the plane I, of course, was the lucky one to get the middle seat. I can't think of anything worse on a long three hour plane ride....well other than maybe crashing. But here I was stuck in a cramped space for the better part of three hours and I was about to meet a man so vile and inconsiderate that it would make Joseph Stalin blush.

The culprit sat down in his seat, made claim to our mutual armrest, and never relenquished it. It was as if his arm was frozen to that thing. Many times I would intentionally turn around and ever so subtely try to bump his arm, but there was no budging. His arm was as stoic as a British Royal Guard. Not only did he occupy the armrest for the entire duration of the flight, but he was wearing short sleeves and his 3 inch armhairs were spilling over to my already tight space. The seat in coach was probably 18 inches wide, and he decided he wanted to stake claim to 1/6 of my personal space. Sometimes I would look up from the book I was reading and just stare out the window for minutes at a time. I was merely hoping to catch a glimpse of eye contact with this jerk to convey my frustration with this situation. Unfortunately, I was too passive to flat out tell this hairy beast my thoughts, and I just had to bite the bullet on this one.

Too many people out there think that if they slap their arm down on an armrest, it is theirs forever. That is just not fair. I have even run into people who have not only taken the armrest, but upon returning from a break had the gall to ask me for it back when I had used it for the short period of time in their absense. I think it is up to both parties to decide how the armrest time is allocated. Like a wise man once said, "Happiness is not so much in having as sharing. We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give." For me personally I am fond of a rotation of 20 or 30 minutes. It gives each party time enough to enjoy the armrest, but at the same time isn't too long where your arm falls asleep. Of course if you are sitting with a loved one you can share by holding hands. That way you can both enjoy it simulataneously. But that is not for me to decide. I am only here to offer up my meager suggestions. Hopefully I can change opinions and eventually the world, even if its one armrest user at a time.

Tacos Tacos Tacos Tacos

Frequently after long night of drinking I need a little pick-me-up to recharge those batteries. Last weekend I was with Carzoli and we decided the best way to cap off a nice night at Maddy's was to have a fulfilling second dinner.

That night the choices were McDonald's and Taco Bell. Taco Bell sounded delicious as I usually can never turn down a good taco. In hindsight I guess we should have gone with McDonalds, not only for the delicious food, but for the elusive Monopoly pieces, of course. I know I'll never win, but it's just so darn fun to play.

As we were pulling up to the local Taco Bell establishment, something looked amiss. The place only had like two lights on, all the neon signs were unlit, and it looked like they were trying to keep away potential midnight snackers.

My suspicions were confirmed when we drove up to the drive-thru window. The cheery lady promptly greeted us with, "Good evening, welcome to Taco Bell. We are currently out of beef, chicken, lettuce, and our credit card machine is down." Ummm ok we thought. Carzoli and I just looked at each other in amazement. How does Taco Bell run out of beef? Isn't that one of the key ingredients to a taco? Maybe I'm crazy here, and have been missing out on the wonderment that is fish tacos. Carzoli leaned over and quipped back, "Is that everything?" The lady remarked back, "No, we still have steak." Oh OK....I guess we have no choice then. A couple steak tacos, with extra love.

Just a quick note, don't ever try the steak taco. As I bit into my reluctant choice, I was welcomed to tasteville with a squirt of some of the most rancid sour cream I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. Now normally I hate sour cream and recoil in its presence, but this stuff was much worse. They tried to spice it up with some gross lime flavoring. Not only was it horribly tasting, but there was so much in there, it was gushing out of its soft shell. I guess they were trying to compensate for the lack of lettuce. Even the sour cream loving Carzoli was appauled. Thankfully he took the remainder of the taco off my hands for a full refund. Thanks for that one buddy, I owe you a solid. Anytime you need to unload a tomato, I'm your guy.

On a more positive note, I heard it through the grapevine that if any player hits a home run to left field or left center in tonight's World Series baseball game, Taco Bell is offering one free taco to every person in America. Somebody pinch me! They might want to build a few extra toilets in anticipation for this event as well. You can never be too safe when it comes to Taco Bell ladies and gentlemen.

Idiot Cashiers

What is it with these moronic cashiers these days. Several times over the last few weeks I have encountered these idiots with absolutely no common sense or math skills. They should definitely not be allowed to operate a machine that handles money. A lot of times if the amount that I owe is somewhere around $6.75, I will give them 12 dollars in hopes that I can get a 5 dollar bill back, instead of a bunch of ones which I can't stand. A move like this will completely baffle the 16-year-old behind the counter. They look at me like I have the fucking plague. They stare at the 10 and 2 ones that I give them for a good 30 seconds, then they give me back 2 dollars like I'm the fuckin moron. All you have to do is type in $12.00 in your little register and it should be pretty clear that I am getting back $5.25. Don't overthink it. Just type in 12 and then maybe the little light will go on in your head. Sometimes I try and explain to them what I am trying to do here, but most of the time it is a lost cause. They think I am somehow trying to rip them off by asking for a 5 or a 10 back for my change.

I am to the point where I don't even want to argue with these people anymore. I guess I will just have to resort to carrying around a pocket full of ones fatting my wallet as I try and make purchases. Maybe someday I will have enough ones to pay for something with only those. It would make life much easier for these dolts who can't figure out some simple math.

Chris Carzoli Appreciation Day

Today was first of what will hopefully become a national holiday....Chris Carzoli Appreciation Day. From his gambling habits, to his 290 yard 4-irons, and his propensity to go streaking at any time at the exchange of seeing any breasts...he brings it all to the table. This blog goes out to the one and only CC. That's him on the right. One half of the greatest ISU fan group ever created, Vromies Homies. God speed, CC, god speed.

ps. He also owes me a guest blog. I will be coming to collect soon.

Cal Woods, Man of the Hour

While partying it up at the annual 3rd of July Celebration in Valley Junction I had the pleasure of introducing myself to the one and only Cal Woods. That's right folks, THE Cal Woods. While walking past the string of caibos, out pops the face behind the local Fox News. Cal is so good he makes Ron Burgandy look like he belongs on a college local access show.

I had to stop him to let him know how big of a fan I really am...even though I never really watch the news, if I did, I would want my info to come from the tan man himself. He was most gracious in his having to deal with drunk people and even wished for our safety for the rest of the night. I now must say move over Kevin Cooney, there is a new sheriff in town in these eyes, and he goes by the name of Cal Woods.

Tiny House

Recently while watching an old KU game, I saw a commercial from a few years ago that frankly one of the biggest teases of my life. It looked like a trailer for a new reality show, but boy was I wrong. It started off with a recently married couple who went to live in a tiny house for a year, hence the name of the reality show, Tiny House.

The first few scenes showed the couple having a few laughs as they adjusted to these tiny living quarters. "This is pretty awesome," the guy said. But their enthusiasm quickly gave way to angst as they continually bump their heads, fell out of bed, and struggle to make omelets.

It wasn't until the end of the commercial when I had to air my disgust at being made to play the fool. Here I was, ready to enjoy one of the most creative and refreshing reality shows to come down the pike in some time, and I had the rug pulled from underneath me. I never felt so betrayed in my life. It was really a fucking insurance company commercial for Geico. They have made a few like this where you are led to believe you are watching something else, but it is really a plug for car insurance. I don't know how they think they can get away with this. I know I for one will never use their company now because of their tomfoolery and utter disregard for human emotion.

Damn you Geico for ruining my life. To this day I still want to see this show made. I had such high hopes.

Doncha Wanna Fanta?

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Golf Round (Not Interesting, Trust Me)

By popular demand, here is the shot-by-shot account of my golf round today. Waveland Golf Course, Blue Tees, 6:30 pm tee time:

1) Hooked my drive into the 18th fairway. Had about 200 left to the green with a downhill lie. I hit a 4 iron but it knicked the tree I was trying to play over. I had 60 yards left in the fairway for my third. Hit a half sand wedge into the wind to a back pin to 3 feet. Made the putt for par.

2) Hit a 9 iron to about 15 feet from about 155yds to a front pin with a slight tailwind. Made the downhill putt for birdie.

3) Hit a 4 iron off the tee to keep out of the trees. It was about 15 yards short of the fairway. Overdrew my next shot, 6-iron, into the creek that runs to the right of the fairway. Dropped for my third. Fourth shot was a 4 iron into the wind from about 190, just over the green. Fifth shot was a flop shot to about 8 feet. Made the putt for bogie.

4) Pushed my 3 wood tee shot slightly so the ball did not take the slope down to the flat level. I had 155 to the pin, and hit an 8 iron to about 6 feet. Missed the putt, tapped in for par. I still don't know how the putt broke up the hill for the last foot.

5) Pushed my drive into the right rough, but still only 85 yards away or so. Overhanging tree limbs caused me to play a low shot. I hit a half PW just short of the green. Hit a poor chip for my fourth and had 15 feet or so for par. Missed the putt, but made the tap-in for bogie.

6) Hit my drive down the left side to about 85 yards away from the green. Hit a sand wedge to the back pin a bit too long and it ended on the back fringe about 20 feet away from the hole. Two-putted for my par.

7) Hit an awful drive on the short par five, blocking it into the right rough. Shaped a 6 iron left to right for my second to about 70 yards away. Hit a sand wedge to about 15 feet to the front pin. Left the putt short. Tapped in for par.

8) Hit a 5 iron from 185 to the left side of the green, but the pin was on the right. 3-putted from about 60 feet for bogie.

9) Hit my 3 wood down the right side, but it stopped on a severe sideslope about 140 yards from the green. I hit a real easy 7 iron to the back pin, just to keep my balance on the shot and keep from overswinging. The shot ended up about 25 feet short of the pin. Hit a weak first putt, leaving it 6 feet short up the steep slope. Made the 6 footer for my par.

So the final score was 2 over par, 38.

Movie Talkers

So I went to see The Da Vinci Code with my dad the other day. The first mistake was seeing the movie at the Copper Creek (theater) Day Care. This theater is notorious for having swarms of kids run in and out of different movies watching 10 minutes of each one. They talk on their cell phones, play games with their other teenage friends, and pretty much annoy the whole theater.

Also, people like to take their newborn babies to 11 oclock movies, like when I went to see Star Wars there, and there was a 6 month old baby crying his eyes out as I was trying to watch Obi Wan do his thing. As annoying as all that was, Copper Creek went down yet another notch in my book for having these fat fucktards sit directly behind us during the movie. The man was probably 300 lbs and was caughing up plegm every 3 minutes. I even had to check the back of my neck once as I thought I felt a mist in the air. His girlfriend/wife was even more annoying. This fucking broad decided to talk through the entire movie with her expert commentary. This lady must have had the mind of a 5 year old because all she could say was "OH MY GOD!", "OH NO!", "WATCH OUT" at every twist and turn. I was so close to going George Costanza on her and telling her to shut her yapper, but I knew this bitch was so dense, it would not have even fazed her. I really don't even think she knew she was doing it. She thought she was at home on her couch with her 300 lb teddy bear.

And it wasn't just that the comments never stopped, it was that they came when absolutely nothing interesting was happening! Tom Hanks gets out of his car...."Oh my God...", Tom stubbs his toe..."Oh my God..." It became so laughable after a while that I just said screw it, there is nothing I can do here. So my dad and I decided to add our own commentary on top of theirs. I spouted no less than 30 Oh my Gods during the last half hour of the movie. I don't even think this lady knew I was mocking her because she went right on with her reactions. I had really never experienced anything like that in a theater before and it really was more like a Saturday Night Live skit than something that was actually happening. I had to burst out laughing a few times at the absurdity of some of this stuff she was doing.

So finally the movie ended and I got up, turned around, and flashed the lady a nice toothy grin and went on my way.

These will be the new popcorn

When I think back to my trip to Manhattan from a couple years ago, many stories come to mind; Carzoli peeing on K-State's old football field, sleeping in a strange store, ISU beating KSU in a huge upset, or even walking home from the bars about five miles since our ride decided to crap out at 11:30. But the lasting memory from that trip was my introduction to the words Batter Crispies. Now for as long as I could remember I loved those little crispy bits of leftovers that lay under the fish in a Long John Silver's platter, but I never knew what to call them. Thanks to Scott Johnson for driving through a LJS at 9 oclock at night and only ordering a drink and Batter Crispies. Who would have thought a delicious meal like that could cost only $1.09? They are such a good compliment to their greasy fish and chicken. Who doesn't love just bits of fried batter that look like rice crispies? I really think they ought to open a stand at the fair for batter crispies, but of course they would have to charge for them unlike LJS. How they can afford to give those little pebbles of eatible gold away for free, I'll never know.

One quick note however. If you are hung over do not attempt to eat any of these delicious morsels, or even picture them in your mind or the smell they emit. You will pay for it big time, I can tell you this from first-hand knowledge. Thank you and enjoy your Batter Crispies.

Hung on Hung

In a few short weeks I will be able to fulfill a life long journey when I will be able to grace the same room as one Mr. William Hung. Somebody pinch me!

That's right, the William Hung will be coming to VEISHA in Ames. Not only will VEISHA be making it's triumphant return, but it will be all the more special with the sweet sweet song stylings of one of America's crown jewels. I can't count the number of times I just daydream the day away thinking of Hung's singing. It brings me such inspiration and really makes me believe I can conquer the world. I will have my camera handy to capture this once in a lifetime opportunity on film. The night will be immortalized and cherished forever in a frame over my mantle. This type of picture is one that will most likely become a family heirloom to be passed from generation to generation. Even thought you never won, you will always be the American Idol in my heart, William Hung.

Some People

To continue with my evergoing series on bathroom annoyances, I would like to share a new pet peeve of mine. Last week when I was out at a restaurant I had to make my usual stop to the toilet in order to bulimitize my food. jk on that one, just had to take a quick pee. Inside a tiny bathroom that was already littered with too many dudes in tight quarters, one man in particular took it upon himself to have a personal conversation on his cell phone while doing his best Lucas Frese impression on that pot.

He was arguing with who I assumed was his wife inbetween his gastric discharges. Talk about your heated arguements. There was enough steam coming his stall to make a coffeepot jealous.

Hey buddy, next time you want to bitch out your wife, how about you do it in private and not while I am trying to take care of my own business. Sorry, just another rant in my quest to improve America's manners. I'm sure this is a pic of the other side of that thrilling conversation.

There's always next year

This is mainly just to vent my own frustrations, a cathartic exercise. Also a top 10 list since everybody seems to be doing them now.

Well, tonight marked the end of another college basketball season when the Florida Gators cut down the nets in Indianapolis. It also marked another year where Kansas did NOT win the national championship. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be able to feel the elation of being the last one standing. Sure Kansas has won it in my lifetime, 1988, but I was far too young to enjoy that and I really had no idea of the magnitude of that event. I am so far removed from tournament joy at this point that I even had trouble imagining my players dancing out there on the court like the Florida guys.

It has been so long and I have suffered a number of heartbreaks. Ranking the top 10 will go as follows:

1) 1997 - Sweet 16 loss to Arizona....this one is the mother of all heartbreaks. We were the top seeded team in the whole tournament and it never even crossed my mind about losing before the Final Four. My favorite Jayhawk of all time at that point, Jacque Vaughn,
was in his senior year and I just thought it would be destiny. So naive I was back then. Arizona was a 4 seed and barely won in the first round, being down 12 points to College of Charleston in the second half. They were also 5th in the Pac 10, but brimming with confidence after the Kansas upset, they won the whole tournament in what was then being called the Jayhawk Invitational. I cried for days after this one.

2) 2003 - Championship loss to Syracuse....to get that close and not finish it off was incredibly painful. I was in the arena in New Orleans to make it even worse. I felt like I was in a dream as Gerry McNamara went off for 6 threes in the first half as the Cuse built a big first half lead. I felt like jumping off the Superdome balcony had a Syracuse fan not already offered to do so to me. Collison and Hinrich's seniors years as well....tough saying goodbye to those guys after watching them in my home state as high school players.

3) 1998 - 2nd Round loss to 8 seeded Rhode Island....2 lottery picks started on this team for Kansas, yet they could not figure out the R.I. guards. Another number one seed squandered. To make matters worse, the whole bracket opened up after this game. KU could have sleepwalked to the final four if they had won this game. They would have played a 13 seed in Valpariaso, then a week 3 seed in Stanford to get to St. Pete. But another Roy Williams face plant took precendence.

4) 2005 - 1st Round loss to Bucknell....how about making some history. First team to ever lose to a Patriot League team in the NCAA Tournament. Also the end of another storied recruiting class....Simien, Miles, Langford, and Lee. This one was downright embarassing. Losing to a 14 seed should never happen. At this point I had experienced a number of disappointments already, so it was starting to seem like commonplace. But this team was preseason number 1, and spent a great deal of the season at number 2 until some late season debacles.

5) 1996 - Elite 8 loss to Syracuse.....we were a far better team, but once again the guards decided to go ice cold from outside. I will also never forget Billy Thomas fumbling a pass out of bounds that would have given him an uncontested layup on a 1 on 0 fast break.

6) 2000 - 2nd Round loss to Duke....this one was not that big of a disappointment as we were the 8 seed to Duke's number one, but we had the lead with less than a minute to go and Nicky Bradford throws the ball to Carlos Boozer who goes in for a dunk to take the lead back. We had the game and no one ever expected it.

7) 2006 - 1st Round loss to Bradley....this one was more embarassing than painful. The team was so young, but definately not supposed to lose to a 13 seed. I really think the bracket set up favorably had we got out of the first round.

8) 1999 - 2nd Round loss to Kentucy....again, not favored to win this one, but we had a 3 pt lead and the ball with less than a minute to go. They got the ball back, missed a shot and got the offesive rebound. Scott Padgett tied the game and we lost in OT. Another almost great upset.

9) 2002 - Final Four loss to Maryland....I really thought this was one of the best KU teams ever. The Jayhawks went 16-0 in the Big 12 and also led the nation in scoring at over 90 ppg. They were such a fun team to watch that I just never wanted the season to end. My confidence grew stedily thoughtout the year into me believing we could actually win the whole thing. Unfortunately they decided not to show up against Maryland and looked like dogs for most of the game. Great season, but not the fairytale ending that I needed.

10) 1996 - Sweet 16 loss to Virginia....another number one seed lost, and this one in Kemper Arena in Kansas City. KU couldn't even take advantage of the home court as they struggled to an abysmal performance behind the 3 point arc.

I am so hoping that all my patience will pay off soon, and all the heartbreak that I have already suffered will only make it that much sweeter when KU does actually win it again. I don't know how I react if it does happen, but rest assured, it will take a vice to get the smile off my face.

I want my puddin

While sitting around today I thought to myself....when I am looking for a delictable chocolate treat, where do I turn? I tell you where I turn. I think back to my childhood and the one man who I could trust. This man was a stern teacher as well as a loving nurturer. That man is Bill Cosby. I would trust this man with my life....and also trust him when it comes to dessert choices. That's why I turn to jello per Cliff Huxtable himself. Just something about how the chocolate and vanilla come together in a swirl just makes my taste buds do the dance of joy. Shizum Scazam Blittzom Blop....go eat some pudding

Big Troubles, Little China

I hope you don't have any plans for say 4 billion years from now. From what I read in the USA Today our galaxy will collide with another one and all hell will break loose. The black holes will begin the sucking process and I may be losing some of my favorite candles and maybe even my light brite toy...since u know that whole sucking of the light thing. If only there was someway to make the black hole switch from suck to blow ala SpaceBalls...then things might pop out like old Joe Cocker records, Jerry Lewis bobbleheads, and maybe even some of the new coke which came out in the mid 80s and was around only a year. I can only hope for such jems as those.

Well anyway, I'm fairly depressed about the fate of our galaxy. I might make it my next project to find someway to save mankind. I might have to put my current projects of my transport machine and my heated coats on the shelf to work on this since it may be more important in the long run. I just have to alter the path of one of the two galaxies and we are golden.

This is how Hawkeyes celebrate

No sooner did the Hawkeyes toss away their Big 10 title with a pitiful loss at abysmal Minnesota after they had experience euphoria in beating the powerhouse Michigan State Spartans. Maybe you shouldn't have celebrated that much Haluska and should have looked at the next scouting report.

Libraries are fun

An 18-year-old male ASU student was arrested Sunday night at Hayden Library and charged with indecent exposure and public sexual indecency. The suspect allegedly pulled his pants and underwear to his mid-thighs to masturbate while watching pornography on his laptop. When asked why he had gone to the library to view pornography and masturbate, the suspect allegedly told police, "To be honest, the Internet connection at my dorm isn't good enough."

Road Trip

Yesterday I got to renew my Jayhawk passion by attending their annual tussle against the Cornhuskers in Lincoln, Nebraska. The Jayhawks did not disappoint as they took care of business and walked out of the Bob Devaney Sports Center with a 21 point victory.

First off, Lincoln really is a dump. Aside from the downtown area, most of the city is dirt covered as it looks as if they are reconstructing the whole place. We took no less than four detours trying to the get to the arena. We were also slowed by a series of trains that crossed town that were longer than Peter Jackson movie. This cost me precious time as I was not able to see my guys warm up before the game as long as I would have hoped.

When I finally got into the arena my brother and I jetted down to court level to watch warmups, but we were greeted by a run away shriner on a power trip. He was not not letting us get through for anybody. What is with the ushers at these sporting events? Do you have to be retired, have tubes coming out of your nose, and have a colostomy bag at your hip in order to get hired by the powers that be? They also love that they yield the power to let you get close. Even in the past when the lower section was as bare as a little kids ass in Neverland, they won't let you get a sniff of the lower level. After several minutes of coersion, he finally let us down to get an autograph and get pictures. He must have been watching us with an eagle eye because after less than 5 minutes he came down to us and berated us. "You have not taken one picture, now get out of here and go to your seats!" Mind you this was still 45 minutes until the game started and there were only a few dozen sitting in their seats in the lower level. It's not like we could have even tried to stay down there and sit in someone else's seat. The game was totally sold out anyway. So Grandpa Munster didn't need to blow a gasket over a couple kids watching basketball players warm up.

The game was going pretty good from the get-go. KU jumped out to a lead in the first few minutes and I was slapping high fives to all the Jayhawk fans around me. They kept a pretty comfortable lead so I was pleased with the first half despite some sloppy play.

The halftime show was the highlight of the night though as I was treated with one of the most amazing displays of magic I have ever seen. I had seen Quick Change once before at an Iowa State game and I was blown away before. I had no idea they would be at this game but I was pleasantly surprised. Quick Change is a duo who can change their clothes in a matter of a half second. I have no idea how they do it, nor do I want to know. I just want to know that they can amaze me anytime I think back to this momentus occasion. The woman changes her hair once and has on no less than 5 different dresses. If you ever have the chance to see them, I emplore you to go.

The game ended without a hitch as my team pulled away late to take a 21 point victory. It was a workmanlike effort, but I will take any W on the road in the Big 12. Also, there is nothing quite like being able to do the Rock Chalk Chant in someone elses gym. The smattering of Jayhawk fans joined me as the Nebraska faithful left their seats with a few minutes remaining as they headed for the exits.

Now I'm ready for my next KU basketball road trip.

Wings baby

I read today that the tv show Wings will be coming to DVD in little more than three months. I have been waiting for this day since the first tv show made its way onto DVD, but there was little word of a release date until this very moment.

Wings was my favorite show by far when I was growing up. I was into it long before I caught on to Seinfeld. Just something about those Hackett brothers that tickled my funny bone. For a while USA Network used to play it 4 times a day....5-6 pm and 10-11 pm. I made it a habit to watch each of those showing pretty much everyday. I probably have seen every episode 10 times or more. Yet I am still starved for that zany cast of Nantuckians to enter their way back into my life.

Thank You Paramount, you have thrusted meaning back into my life.