Friday, August 22, 2008

August 22, 2008 THings I Ponder

Things I question and ponder on a daily basis:

Do I REALLY need to wake up right now?
What am I doing with my life?
I wonder if people in the gym locker room think I’m gay when I put on boxers with red and pink hearts on them . . .
How are Asians really that bad at driving?
Where are Americans going to flee to when McCain becomes president?
I wonder what it would be like to cannonball into a pool of jello . . .
I wonder how yellow pee can get?
Who shot JR?
Where have all the cowboys gone?
How the hell did that get in there?
Are you kidding me?!
Why did George Jetson never smack Jane for talking all of his money every episode?
It’s 10pm, do I know where my kids are?
Why are farts so damn amusing?
Why does Superman stop bullets with his chest, but ducks when you throw a gun at him?
Is there another word for synonym?
Did I really just say that?



Song of the Week: “Higher (Breathe)” by Move.meant

Quote of the Week: “Have you ever met a Trudy that wasn’t busted?” – Anonymous

Random Fact of the Week: The "Spanish Flu" of 1918, which killed at least 50 million people world-wide, originated in Kansas, not Spain.

Picture of the Week: Not a good position to be in.

Until next week, pass the Dutchie on the left hand side,


Fred

Friday, August 8, 2008

August 8, 2008 S&D Night

There comes a time in every man’s life when he has to test himself. There are always certain defining moments: the first time he fights another person, the first time he sleeps with a girl, the day he gets married. Those are all things that will be carried as memories for life.

And then there is Schlitz and Dog night. Nothing is like it, and nothing will ever be the same because of it. It is the ultimate test of intestinal fortitude. The body is sacrified for the fine ancient art of competition. When participating in an S&D night, all hopes of meeting a classy woman to bear the fruit of your loins are thrown out quicker than a plate of pork at Jewfest.

Let me give you a little background into S&D Night. It all started with three men. We’ll call them the B.A.R. men. There is a bar which we’ll call “Holy Land.” At Holy Land, the two cheapest items on the menu are consumed; Schlitz and Hot Dogs. Schlitz are $3.75, while dogs are $1. If men everywhere knew they could spend $1 on a hot dog at Holy Land, strip clubs would go out of business. B.A.R. men decided it’d be a good idea to host night where only two items are consumed; you guessed it. This was enjoyable. Then the B.A.R. men decided to take it to a whole new level. This is when I knew God really existed, and that he really did in fact love me.

Challenges were to be bestowed upon different challengers to eat a certain amount of “units.” A unit is either a 16oz. tall-boy can of Schlitz, or a taste-bud tickling hot dog. At an early feast, the high-water mark was set at 12 units by a man we’ll call Seamus. Crafted from the beard of Zeus himself, Seamus made it look easy. Competitors have been fooled by that number, but no one has come close . . . until last night.

It had the makings of another typical S&D night; everyone sitting around enjoying themselves, pacing, and Seamus staying quietly in striking distance. However, a dark horse appeared; we’ll refer to him as Rocky. We continued to drink and eat. The night went on. Unit totals were accumulating. Seamus slowly crept up to 10 units. So did Rocky. Another gladiator of the gullet, Anthony, was slowing down, but still within range at 10 as well. There was only 30 minutes left in the competition. And then we got news that rocked our world. Beer Wench: Sorry guys, you completely drank our entire stock of Schlitz. I could feel my heart turn black and a piece of my die inside as those words left her mouth. It was a valiant effort, but all seemed finished. All they had left were 16oz. tall-boys of Narragansett.

Nay said Rocky. NAY! Here comes 5th gear. 11 units down. 1 to go to tie. 12th open. It’s time to do work. Bring on the 'Gansett. Anthony has tapped out at 11. A worthy adversary indeed. It is the final showdown between Seamus and Rocky. Seamus completes #12, and stops. 15 minutes left, and Rocky chokes down unit 12. It’s coming down to the wire, and a small crowd has gathered. All eyes are on Rocky. People cheer, a rally clap is started. Women become hot and bothered. The beer wench brings one more beer for him. One more beer; unit #13, the record if he finishes. 15 minutes of pain and anguish; a lifetime supply of victory. The events that unfolded after will go down in bar lore as one of the single most impressive displays of discipline and determination. Half the beer is left. 3 minutes. Another kiss of hops. We’re about to witness greatness firsthand. People say they were at MLK’s “I have a dream” speech, people remember Neil Armstrong take his first step out onto the moon. I remember Rocky going for 13. 1 minute left, about 3 ounces left. He tried. He left it all out there, but just couldn’t get the last 3 ounces down. And then he tapped out. We all stood silent, trying to digest what we just witnessed. Rocky sat in quiet disbelief. He had come so far, came so close. He admitted failure. This was one fact we could all agree on: Although no records were broken that night, Rocky will always be a hero in our hearts.

Song of the Week: “Cortez the Killer” by Neil Young & Crazy Horse.

Quote of the Week: “Epic!” – Beer Wench at Holy Land after handing us our bill.

Random Fact of the Week: For the 9 people at our table, the numbers were as follows: Schlitz: 41, Dogs: 28, Narragensett: 8.

Picture of the Week: .

Until next week, we need a unit!


Fred

Friday, August 1, 2008

August 1, 2008: Public Transportation Etiquette

You know what really grinds my gears? Public transportation etiquette – or should I say the lack of. On any given day in the past 7 years that I have had the pleasure of taking the wonderful public transit system that is the MBTA and I am still completely baffled by the things some people do. So I’ve decided to give you all my “Fab 4” of etiquette pet peeves when taking public transportation:

  1. Bag Etiquette: Here’s the deal, your bag doesn’t deserve it’s own seat. Sure it’s had just as hard of a day as you have, but when a train is starting to fill up the seats are better served for other people. Additionally, when a train is crowded take your 38lb backpack off your shoulders and put it at your feet – it takes up shit-loads of space, and makes getting up and down the aisle comparable to the limbo dance.
  2. Entering and Exiting: Listen up on this one, because it’s important. The majority of my time on the train is during rush hour – meaning, the trains are crowded and the platforms are even more crowded. Wait for people to get off the train before you get on. While I’m convinced that many train conductors are evil, they don’t typically get off on slamming the door on a group of people’s face. Actually, this needs to be explained in better detail:
    1. When exiting (or, when other’s are exiting):

1. Clear the doorways

2. Wait until the train has stopped moving to move towards the door – the train is going to wait.

    1. When entering (or, when other’s are entering):

1. Clear the doorways, see a pattern here?

2. Give people who are getting off room to get off. That means, don’t make a should-to-shoulder half circle around the door. Remember what I said earlier, the train is going to wait!

  1. Seating – for the elderly, not you: This one is a no-brainer. You’re a strapping young buck (or fawn?) stand up and let the hump-backed, feeble old man/woman or the person-of-any-age-who-is-missing-one-leg-and-two-arms sit down. Also included in this category: blind people (optional: verbally instruct them or help them to a seat – if you’re on a date, it’s guaranteed ass).
  2. Cell Phones: Now, we’ve got them for a reason – accessibility – and it’s a good reason. Many times it’s completely acceptable to pick up your cell phone when in a public place (ie, the train) but here’s the thing, that microphone in the phone can hear you – you don’t need to shout. Keep your conversations at a normal conversation level, as if the person you’re talking to is right next to you. Rule of Thumb: when I’m listening to my iPod on the other end of the train and I can hear you talking about how, “you really wanted to (like) have sex with that guy but (like) you were (like) on your period and (like) couldn’t, but didn’t (like) want to tell him because it may (like) be (like) awkward, and you really hoped that he would (like) understand and (like) call you back, but (like) only if it’s (like) three days later because anything less is (like waaaaay) too clingy, but at the same time anything (like) more means he probably doesn’t (like) like you” you’re probably talking all little too loud.

Song of the Week: “Many Shades of Black” by The Raconteurs

Quote of the Week: “Why in a country of free speech, are there phone bills?” – Steve Wright

Random Fact of the Week: Charlie Chaplin once won third prize in a Charlie Chaplin Look-alike contest.

Picture of the Week: How appropriate


Until next week, POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser. POW-right in the kisser.....


reid (ummm, i mean, fred)