going deep

I did a 5 mile run tonight. About 4 miles into to i got a little rumbly in my tumbly, at 4.5 miles it turned into a full blown intestinal "situation", with each pounding step home I put myself into further and further distress.

Its now 10 pm and I'm writing this on the laptop from the downstairs bathroom where I've spent a good portion....let me rephrase that, where I've spent the majority of the night.

I think I now understand why I haven't lost any of that weight. I think I was carrying it all in my large intesttine and just needed a long run to jar it loose. I'm crapping out stuff from the late 80's....stuff like pop rocks and classic coke.

Oh lordy, I hope I make it till daybreak.

Black Monday

That's what I'm calling the Monday after Thanksgiving break. Everyone is walking around here in a fog. 4 days ( or more) of sleeping in and gorging yourself on turkey is no preparation for an overcast Monday morning sitting in a cubical. Add to that the fact that here in Pennsyltucky its the first day of buck fever and the door never beeps and the phone never rings and you have a recipe ripe for violations of the companies internet use policy.

I hope your Thanksgiving holiday went well...mine did.

As Mrs. Flick is still laid up I made my first turkey ever for the big day. I started around noon right after a hard bike ride and a 4 mile run, which left me as hungry as a Rastafarian in a Whole Foods store. The result was a 15 lb bird, 3 lbs of marshmellow yams, 16 biscuts, etc etc capped off both a pumpkin and a coconut cream pie....for 5 of us, three of whom are under 10 and one of whom is a skinny woman. Needless to say that I've eaten nothing but leftovers for the last 3 days. FYI, 3 day old yams are disgusting no matter how much marshmellow to bathe them in.

Friday I took the kids downtown for the tree lighting ceremony and annual Mayoral season greeting, this year titledm, please-buy-some-stuff-downtown-instead-of-the-mall-so-we-can-hang-onto-the-last-of-the-white-people-who-haven't-pulled-the-the-chute-yet, or something like that. I'm not really sure because I didn't get one of the programs.

The whole city scene fascinates me. You have some modestly affluent baby boomers who are really committed to saving the city. They're the ones supporting ( or opening) the shops. They're the ones keeping the nightlife afloat. They're the ones drawing in the likes of me and my family to participate in things like the tree lighting and first Friday artwalk. But the city is also composed of a fair number of half-way house type crazy and infirmed people as well as a stunning number of feral 12 year old boys with improbably large puffy jackets and nicer cell phones and sneakers than I have. This all creates a surreal mix in the town square with the boomers in their camel hair jackets and wingtips trying to act dignified while crazy toothless people try to protect their shopping bags from wandering packs of PhatFarm puffballs screaming at each other with a 3 to 1 obscenity to english ratio. At least the event was capped with ( literally) 200 tuba players, tubas fully decorated in Chirstmas regalia, playing silent night an a Bowser-like octive, to keep everything anchored in normalcy.

Me ? I bought my kids some hot chocolate then we hightailed it outta there and back tot he suburbs where we like our dysfunction the old fashion American way...surpressed in a haze of prescprition drugs and deviant sexuality. In that I can trust.

The rest of my weekend was spent running, and riding, and swimming, the same as the last 6 weeks. The result of this concerted effort toward fitness and good health has yielded me a net loss of exactly 1 whole pound depending on whether or not I weigh myself pre or post dump. People keep trying to say encouraging things like " maybe you gained muscle" or " hang in there" but I suspect that in their heads they're finishing the sentence with the phrase " ...you fatass". No matter what the outcome, at least if my car breaks down I should be able to run, ride, or swim to the closest donut shop, so it all works out.

A very short conversation Saturday night.

The boy: ( something insulting to the youngest girl)

the girl: I'm not impressed

The boy: Well then maybe I'll call you a therapist

The girl: Then maybe I'll bleed you again.

Last night the youngest girl had a friend over for a sleepover. Around 1:00 am I heard some comotion and I got up to find her friend crying. " I want my mommy, I want to call her". I told the girl that I didn't think that it was a good idea to freak her mom out by calling her at 1:00 am, but that I'd sit with her until she fell back asleep so she wouldn't be scared. Then the youngest girl woke up and asked what has happening. " Your Daddy wont let me call my mommy, he wants to sit in bed with me instead", which, while accurrate, would look a lot less magnanmous if written out in a police report. I woke Mrs. Flick and let her manage the sitation.

OK, I realize this is post is starting to get a little out of control. Happy Monday.

you'll be laughing at this until Monday

Get the latest news satire and funny videos at 236.com.

Ninja Assasin

Mrs. Flick has shoulder surgery a couple of weeks ago. She's doing well and healing up fine, but pain management has been a bit of an issue.

Mrs. Flick is rather conservative when it comes to drugs, prescription I mean.... she wouldn't even consider recreational. Heck I have to buy her pony bottles of beer and she can barely get through one of those before it starts to get warm. So despite being in some post-op pain, she was only taking her Oxycontin at about half the dosage and in half the time frame prescribe by the doctor. The real trouble started when, after three days, she just quit cold turkey and tried to "gut it out". That's when she learned that "time-released pain meds" means that once you let it get out of your system, you're not getting any real relief for about 2 hours.

After suffering through some serious pain for a few hours, it took far less convincing to get her to take a full dose of the meds, which she did and finally at about 4 am conked out. That's when she learned the meaning of another new phrase..."opium dreams".

I was driving into work the next morning and my phone rang. " WHY ?! WHAT DID I DO ?!", Mrs. Flick was shouting at me.

" Huh ? What's wrong ?"

" I'm a good wife, I'm a good person, why would you want me dead you bastard !"

She went on to explain her very vivid dream involving me hiring a ninja to kill her and her somehow escaping..but the ninja slicing her in the neck and shoulder.

The whole thing was a bad trip which reminded me of this.

I did my best Jimmy Carter, talked her off the ledge and had her go back to bed. A half dozen hours later, no longer high and with a cup of coffee in her, we got it all straightened out....although I notice she still kinda watches me all suspicious out the corner of her eye all.

Which brings us to last night.

Last night I had a shitty day, she had a shitty day and we were chasing the kids around getting them ready for bed. " Man I could use a beer" I lamented since we haven't been keeping any alcohol in the house since I started trying to get back into shape. " You know, me too", she responded.

So while she tucked the kids in I ran down to the corner bar and grabbed me some beer ( that experience will be tomorrows post).

When I got back we sat down, relaxed, and I cracked open a couple of beers. After a few minutes of peaceful silence Mrs. Flick asked, " Hey, I took one of those pills about an hour ago, you think its ok for me to have this beer ?"

I thought for a second, " yeah sure, one beer isn't going to do anything."

Then she gave me that out of the corner of the eye look and I can tell thoughts of ninjas were going through her head, " are you sure ?"

" Yeah I'm sure...relax", but then I started thinking about it and I wasn't sure at all. I mean I wouldn't worry for me, but she doesn't drink, doesn't use drugs, and she's about 100lbs lighter than me. I doubted anything could happen, but now that she asked me ( twice) if anything did happen I didn't need that shit on my shoulders. Plus I know she told that ninja story to at least one of her friends and if she turned up dead I had a bad feeling that I'd have a tough time trying to find character witnesses that would say anything other than, " I dunno...he seems like the kinda guy who might actually do it."

So I googled Oxycontin and alcohol and the first 5 hits that came up has some variation of the same thing, " UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES DRINK ALCOHOL WITH THIS DRUG, IT WILL SUPPRESS YOUR CNS AND YOU'LL GO TO SLEEP AND NEVER WAKE UP".

" Ummmm, maybe you should stop drinking that be...", I looked up to see her finishing off the last of the bottle.

" WHAT !?!?!"

" Oh nothing dear, just kidding" and I sent her off to bed.

On Wednesdays I get up to swim and between that and the way she's got herself rigged up in a nest of pillows and pulleys and such for the shoulder, I've arranged other sleeping quarters. So I got up swam, came home showered, and went into our room to get my clothes.

The light from the open door spilled across the bed and there among the pulleys and pillows and various contraptions used to prop her up was Mrs. Flick. Her head was back, mouth agape, out completely cold and not moving. I looked a little closer for the tell tale rise and fall of the covers and the thoughts of prescription bottle disclaimers and Amish ninjas flashed through my head. " OK Flick, get ahold of yourself, you're being silly", I tried to steady myself.

I moved a little closer and leaned over her listening for her breathing and still nothing...NOTHING ! " Honey ?", I whispered. Nothing. " Hey.", and I gave her a little poke. NOTHING !

Then I just freaked out, " OH MY GOD ARE YOU ALIVE, HELLO HELLO !" and started shaking her (good) arm.

" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH", Mrs. Flick bolted straight up, eye the size of saucers. Dazed and confused, " WHA ? WHO ? WHA ?"

" ohmygodohmygodohmygod....okokokokokokok...aaaaaa. sorry....sorry....go back to bed, everything is ok"

She was looking around blankly, " but wha ? what the ?"

" No honey its ok, everything is fine, back to bed now", and I coaxed her back onto the pulley and such and somehow got her lulled back to some sort of sleep. Then I got the hell out of dodge.

this aint right

har de har har

Greg Lemond

I usually don't talk about cycling or doping because they both bore me anymore, but I just got done watching stages 17-21 of the 1990 Tour De France and find myself really pissed off.

What I'm pissed off at are the morons who criticize and vilify Greg Lemond as some sort of washed up guy who's criticism of modern cycling and douchebag Armstrong is all sour grapes.

Lets establish something right off the bat.

Greg Lemond is the greatest American cyclist ever. Period.

He was World Champion as a junior and twice as a professional on the road.

He got the silver at the worlds an additional two times as a professional

He won the Tour three times, twice after being SHOT and still having pellets in the tissue around his heart. He also placed third in the tour and second in a tour that many feel he could have won.

He won the season long super prestige trophy in 1983 which was that era's equivalent of the Pro Tour title. He was second in the same series in 1986

He raced all season long in Europe AND the US, winning the Coors Classic a couple of times,the Tour DuPont and featuring in the spring and fall classic as well as the world championships.

And HE DID IT DOPE FREE

I'll even contend that if it weren't for EPO jacking up riders like Berzin, Chiapucci, Riis, Indurain, etc etc etc in the early 90's that Lemond may have an another couple of successful seasons and perhaps another tour win.


Now to address his criticisms of Armstrong and Landis, let's get right to the heart of the matter.

Landis doped.

If you want to make the argument that Armstrong didn't dope, I think you're retarded, but I'll agree that he never tested positive. Somehow he dominated Ulrich, Zuelle, Pantani and all the other admitted cheaters, but he never tested positive. All his former teammates, Hamilton, Heras, Landis, Vaughters, Andreau, Swart, etc etc etc all have either been busted and or admited cheating, but you're right he never tested positive. He dumped Landis' blood bag down the drain like some petulant child, but he indeed has passed every piss test. He went out of his way to badger, humiliate and cut short the careers of riders and support staff of spoke out against doping, but you're 100% correct he never tested positive.

Oh except for that one time with the cortisone, but that got all straightened out.

So at great personal loss....he lost his bicycle company...he had his personal laundry of child molestation outted....he's persona-non-grata in the professional cycling community.....at the great personal loss and without anything to gain, Lemond has spoken out AGAINST DOPING. He's called into question Armstrong antics, associations, and motivations. He's asked for more strict guidelines and testing procedures.

And along every step of the way his assertions, accusations, and ideas have all been proven to 100% absolutely CORRECT.

And he's the asshole ?!?!

If you don't support Lemond, if you don't see that he's trying to clean up the sport...the dying piece of shit that its become...then you're blind.

http://www.cyclinghalloffame.com/riders/rider_bio.asp?rider_id=23

http://bestoflemond.blogspot.com/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greg_LeMond

Two Ships

After watching to kids almost konk heads in the swimming pool the phrase " two ship passing in the night" went through my head.

Its usually used in the context of two people missing some wonderful opportunity due to an unfortunate circumstance of timing. Often this is used in the context of relationship.

But seeing the two kids nearly bang heads made me wonder about the alternatives. What if two people were like two ships that collided in the night. You know with horror and panic, people screaming and pleading for their lives ?

Now that sounds like a much more apt description of my relationships.

down and out

I caught a cold.

It started Thursday as a runny nose and by Saturday had evolved into a fully functional ass kicker.

I had hoped to spend the weekend riding my bike and getting some stuff done around the house but instead spent the weekend horizontal, moaning.

In my reclined state I did get to catch a little TV and noticed that the news reporters all do something really funny anymore. When they pronounce a foreign word, they do some sort of cartoon impression of someone from that country.

This first started right around 2000 when the country went into a Latino frenzy - you remember - when Nacho's superseded the potato chip, the Miami Sound Machine did that conga, and Edward James Olmos or whatever the fuck his name is was being talked about like Al Pachino ( who ironically enough had been on the cutting edge of the movement, trading in his guini-tee for big tab collars of Tony Montana)

but I digress...

Back then you'd hear Daisy Fuentes introducing a song in perfect Queens English and then get to a word such as " enchilada" and suddenly she'd be like Speedy Gonzalez offering some food to Yosemite Sam, " On-chillll-(rolling tongue)-taaaaaa" then right back into English like nothing happened. It would be like drive by Spanish....whap-pa-pa-pa and then right back into English.

But whatever. Daisy was in fact Hispanic, and hot, so whatever she wanted to do was fine with me. And the whole thing, while odd, did not give off a sense of affect as much as it did cultural pride.

Well some time between then and now, the whole thing has gone to hell in a handbasket. Apparently any word, or worse yet any name, that doesn't appear on the side of a Happy Meal box now has to be said as spoken in its country of origin.

The first blatant example of this was with Qatar. KA-TAR....sounds like guitar was fine for most of us. Then it began. QUA-TER, KA-TEAR, Mis-ta KOT-TAH...until finally some dope settled on CUTTER. CUTTER ? Come on, that's purposely being obtuse.

My recent favorite is seeing how many syllables the anchor can add to the Russian Presidents name. Medvedev Having the D and the V next to each other has sent them into a tizzy. Now, rightly or wrongly, MED-VED-EV is simple enough. We know who you're talking about, he knows who your talking about, and its easy on the English ear. But no, they're rather MED-VI-ED-VI-EV, ME-ED-VI-ED-DI-EV or the CNN preferred pronunciation all slurry like Rocky after fighting at 15 rounder with Apollo Creed, MED-VIED-EV.

I did notice that they tried this shit with Al-Qaeda for a while but then just gave up and went back to AL-KI-DA. Maybe the whole thing comes down to a matter of respect.

been riding ?

" Been riding ?"

Every language and culture has their own unique greeting, " buenos dias", "bonjor", " howya doin", " whatup-G", etc etc.

In the obsessive compulsive world of cycling, the choice of greeting invariably includes the phrase, "been riding ?".

Oh sure, it takes various forms, and occasionally, if the situation warrants it will be preceded by a "nice to see you" or " Hey your shirt is on fire", but those are just some sort of societal obligation...a necessary pleasantry before getting to the meat of the issue...

" Been riding ?"

The response to the "been riding?" question/greeting is perhaps more interesting the the question itself in that the response is always an untruth. Then always followed by the necessary, " how about you?"...and back and forth it goes.

To the uninitiated, it looks something like this...

Frick: Hey nice to see you.....been riding ?

Frack: Riding ? No, not much at all..barely been able to get out. How about you ?

Frick: Nah, not much. I did get out with the guys on Saturday, but that's about it.

Now I have to interrupt the conversation to point out the not so subtle turns that things often take here.

* If in fact one of the parties actually has not been riding ( unlikely) then the conversation will awkwardly fizzle out as one of the guys is only capable about talking about riding, bike, bike riding, the last ride he did and the next ride he's going to do....while the non-riding guy will want to talk about riding about as much as Bruce Willis wants to talk about what a wicked great career that Ashton Kutcher is having.

* If both parties actually have been riding, then game switches from one of mutual denial into a Cold War-esque arms race...

Frack: Oh you went out with those guys on Sat ? Yeah I couldn't make that, but I did get out for a couple hours by myself in the morning.

Frick: Oh cool. Yeah the group did about 3 hours

Frack: Sorry I missed that. But its probably for the better since I ended up sneaking away for 4 hours on Sunday and so 3 hours on Sat would have been too much.

Frick: Wow 4 hours on Sunday, you must be getting in great shape. I only did 3 on Sunday, but I did it later when I was windy.

ad nauseum until ever ride for the last 6 months has been described and accounted for and, of course, there's the necessary trading of scouting reports on all the other riders they both know...who also "have not been riding" and how many miles and how well their " not been riding" is going.

Too often this transpires while Frick and Fracks wives, or girlfriends, or kids stand to the side ignored and glazed over with 1000 mile stare usually reserved for methadone addicts or prisoners of war.

The customary closing is as automatic as " buenos dias" or " peace out".

Frack: So are you going to ride this upcoming weekend ?

Frick: Hmmm, probably not. I mean I've been so busy...I may not get to ride for weeks.

Frack: Yeah I know what you mean. I doubt I'll be able to get out either.



Good night Frick, Good night John Boy.

Can you put a price on art ?

Actually, yes you can.

I took my daughter downtown on Friday for dinner and a walking tour of some of the downtown galleries. As we wandered around looking at pieces, it got me thinking a few things:

1) How is art priced ? Is the $1000 painting on the wall a function of materials used, time invested, the perceived quality of the work or emotional attachment the artist has to the work ? If any of you out there are artists please let me know because I really am curious.

2) Many of the pieces just aren't going to sell. Its not because of their quality, its because most people don't have $1200 to spend on a oil painting of a farm scene. I suppose the idea is that selling one painting for $1200 is still more profitable than selling 10 paintings at $100 each. But as an artist wouldn't you want people to have and enjoy your art. As a gallery owner, don't you want to start to create a market where people get in the habit of consuming your products ?

3) Functional art is really cool. I suppose there is something aesthetically pleasing about an entire IKEA layout, but I'm a much bigger fan of odd and older pieces cobbled together. Many of the shops downtown have tables, shelving, candle holders, table ware, etc regular houshold type goods that are either old items refurbished or stuff made by hand. Little of it, probably none of it, has clean lines. The pieces have nicks and scratches. But almost all of it it etched or painted or has some touch to it that makes you consider the fact that another human being spent time putting skill and labor into it.

I saw a couple of bands this weekend. Both had fiddle players. I thought that was odd. One had an electric piano and a scrub board. I'm pretty sure both should be pre-requisites for any music made. The group I saw Friday night was playing on the street and consisted of a fiddle, a guitar and an upright base. The folks were playing for tips and had drawn quite the crowd. I watched the fiddle player, standing in the cold jamming away and it made me realize that he was better at playing the fiddle than I am at anything in my life. Then I realized that as good as he was, that he was standing on a street corner playing for dollars while Brittney Spears was somewhere getting a foot massage. I gave him a dollar and felt depressed for the both of us.

A rule of thumb to live by. The louder someone yells, the more they're lying.

I saw a big guy in a T-shirt and trucker hat get tossed from a bar. About 20 minutes later he came back wearing a pink argyle sweater vest over top of the t-shirt and still with the trucker hat. He made it about 30 seconds before he got thrown out again. Somehow he had convinced himself that putting a pink sweater on a 6'2" 250 lb man was a good disguise. I love drunk logic. It was yet another time that I wished I had fake schnoz and glasses , because I'm fairly certain I could have convinced him to make another run at it.

Starbucks or Swingerbucks

I just went for a cup of coffee.

As I walked up to the counter, the guy in line in front of me said to the woman working behind the counter, " So, are you single ?"...no small talk, no preamble, nothing like that...just BOOM, " are you single?" .

She replied, " How old are you ?"

" 27", is what I think he said.

" Well I'm at least 10 years old than you"

" Great !", he raeched into his pockets, " I'm going to give you my number. Call me if you want to go out."

He handed her a card, picked up his coffee and out the door he went.

It was the antithesis of every experience I ever had asking a woman out...he was confident, he was direct, he was sober. I was as baffled as the woman behind the counter, who I might add, got quite the smile on her face and put the number in her pocket.

Then as I was standing there, mouth agape, the woman behind me in line moved up alone beside me and smiled. She was a realtively attractive woman, but well into her 50s. Obviously somewhat affluent with a plunging neckline and and obvious boob job.

" So what are you doing tonight", she asked..apparently inspired by our boys performance.

It was then that I became very aware of the fact that my wedding ring was still sitting on the ESC key of my keyboard back at the office.

" Tonight ?", I repeated, " well for starters I'm getting the hell out of this place"......laughed.......then ran like hell.

the great escape

A friend recently asked, " Do you find it hard to go to sleep at night ?"

He wasn't asking about any insomnia, he was referring to the fact that, in general, men tend to stay up late watch bad TV and surfing the internet. This, and the fact that the airtime is cheaper, is why you'll see ads for penis enlargement cream, rogaine, and girls gone wild videos all shown well after 10 pm.

The reason is relativly obvious, but I think worth noting. Men need to be alone. Alternatively, men need to be with other men alone ( meaning without women and children)...but that mostly works because men don't ask shit of other men so you can't actually hang out with them and not feel put upon. And its the "put upon" that seems to be the driving force that's keeping Colbert and Mega-Man suppliments in buisness.

Back in "the day" men would get this type of reprieve on a somewhat regular basis. There was the Elks Club, Knight of Columbus, Country Club memberships ( at Country Clubs with no women and children), or post work meet-ups at the local pub which would have occassionally have women, but for our purposes of discussion, 19 year old cocktail waitresses are not applicable.

In today's modern age, men are "involved". They're coaches, they're baby sitters, they help with homework, they spend "quality time", somehow or another we've become actual participants in the daily lives of our wives and children. NOT, as they say, NOT that there's anything wrong with it. My only point is that those downtimes are less formal and less regular than during our father's generation.

So where does that leave us ?

First all lets get one thing out of the way. The term "man cave" is gay. If you use it stop using it. If you hear it, please make the offender know of the transgression. Getting some sort of designated area, and worse yet some sort approval from your spouse...with the title " MAN CAVE" is contrary to the entire concept. A " MAN CAVE" is a place where men might as well have " PLAY DATES"....another designation that sucks all of the fun and spontinaity out of life.

I remember sneaking out to the garage for a beer and smoke with the father of one of my friends after our wives had gone to bed a few years ago. I felt sheepish about the entire operation until he pointed out to me that all over America...he'll over most of the world, men were sneaking out into their garages, or woodsheds, or basements and sneaking a smoke or a drink. He tuned me into the fact that hanging out alone, or even with a friend, outside of your wifes knowledge or without scheduling it, or without having to check on the kids, was an act of independance. That it was in those moments that we break free of the burdens and bonds of daily drudgery. Furthermore, he pointed out that those moments rejuvinated us enabled us to be better fathers, husbands, and providers. We weren't taking swigs from the flask hidden in the toolbox for ourselves...we were getting covertly hammered for THEM. That watching reruns of The OC episode where the chicks are trying on swimsuits isn't our pleasure as much as its our duty and obligation.

The man made a lot of sense. Either that or I was just really really high.

Still Funny

finally

It turns out that the youngest girl, previously thought of fearless, is in fact scared of something.

Unfortunately the thing she seems to be scared of is Halloween.

To remedy this I've convinced her that she and I will instead celebrate Smellfarticus. Smellfarticus is of course the lesser known autumnal holiday where you wrap your rectal gasses in decorative paper and gift them to your friends. My intent was to gross her out and make skeletons and black cats look reasonable by comparison. Instead, she liked it. Now I have to figure out how to wrap a fart.

Maybe its ME she should be scared of.


I can't believe I've been at this blog since 2005. I'll have to dig up the other costume pics, but here's a visit from ghosts past.

2005 <--CLICK HERE


2006


2007 <--CLICK HERE

there's luck...and then there's Obama

Talk about being on a good run.

Obama rented airtime from the television stations.

The 6th game of the World Series didn't get cancelled, it didn't get called off, the Rays TIED the game allowing the Series to be "postponed" for the first time in the history of the game.

To give you some perspective on that....nothing in baseball ever happens for the first time.
* Imagine someone striking out three batters. Then the catcher dropping the ball and the running running to first and making it there safely. Then the pitcher strikes out the next batter...giving the pitcher 4 strikeouts in one inning. Yeah, that's happened FOUR TIMES.
* Or imagine someone hitting a single, double, tripple, and home run in the same game...that happens like once every other year.
* DUDES...the ball bounced off of Conseco's head and out of the park for a home run once.

In any case, so this happens for the first time ever.

Then the weather is so bad that they have to postpone the game a second time !

Which pushes GAME 6, perhaps the last game of the series, into prime time...midweek....starting at the end of Obama's rented time.

I took my boy to a restaurant to watch the game. We had to go to two places before we got a table. I heard it was the same all over Central and Southeastern Pa.

Not only does Obama get this captive audience, but the two teams playing in the games don't end up being Los Angeles and Boston...but rather two key presidental swing states of Pennsylvania and Florida.

The dude is running hot.

P.S. John Daly...passed out....Hooters ! HAHAHAHAHHA !

Mal-apropriate, chickens beware.

The youngest girl finds herself regularly confused and opinionated. Apparently another genetic gift from her dear old dad. Just this weekend.

- Hey Dad why don't you ever take me to Ohio ?
. Why would you want to go to Ohio, there's nothing to do there ?
- Yeah, that's the point. We can sit around on the beach and drink stuff out of coconuts.
. Wha ? Do you mean Hawaii ?
- Yeah, whatever. I just want a coconut.


- Hey Dad, you're being rather pandarthic.
. Pandarthic ? That's not even a word.
- See ?! That's exactly what I'm talking about.


- Hey Dad, what's with all these Irish people ?
. Huh ? You mean Mr. Daniels ?
- Mr. Dadi- ? I'm talking about THOSE people over there.
. You mean Amish ?
- Yeah, whatever. Anyway what's their deal. They all have farms.
. Well a lot of Amish are farmers. Many of them are farmers or carpenters.
- Am I going to have to be Amish ?
. Why ?
- Cause I'm going to be a farmer when I grow up.
. Oh. You can be a farmer without being Amish. And I didn't know you wanted to be a farmer.
- Yeah. I'm going to be a farmer and live no a farm and all my friends will be animals.
. Even the one's you eat ?
- ( no pause) Actually, I WILL have to lie to the chickens.

phrases that put me on tilt

In golf....

* A scramble is where you and your partner(s) hit a shot. You choose the best of those shot, everyone drops a ball from there and plays your next shot from that same location.
* Best ball is where you and your partner(s) play you own ball all the way through the hole and then the team gets the score of whomever has the lowest individual score for the hole.

There's no such thing called BETTER BALL.

Is that so hard to understand?

In poker....

* Its a raise if someone else has bet and you are increasing the amount of the bet. Its a reraise, if someone has bet, a second person has already raised, and now your increasing the bet a second time.

In life....

"At the end of the day...." Gawd, enough already with this one.

" When you take the (xxxx) of the worlds" when people are talking about someone specific...as in " How will this affect the Tiger Woods of the world" or " We have to see the reaction of the Obama and McCains of the world" ...when they're really talking about Tiger Woods, McCain and Obama. Just talk about who the hell you're talking about...."of the worlds" should be used rarely and when your reference is someone who represents a larger segment of the population. Quite fucking ironicly, "Joe the Plumber" is the perfect example of someone who should have been " The Joe Plumbers of the world" but instead everyone got all focused on the actual and exact Joe the Friggin Plumber. BAH !

"It is what it is"...this put me immediately on super monkey tilt. This phrase might be the single greatest waste of breath in human history. It makes no contribution to the discussion in any way whatsoever. When is "it" ever anything else besides " what it is ?" Godamnit it makes me mad just typing it.

< oh I'm taking a break, but don't even think that I'm done with this >

Murtha is crazy

There aren't any racists in Western Pa.



BTW I did some student teaching just outside of Johnstown. The guy I taught with told me on day 1, " boy, you gonna find things work a little different around here than in Philadelphia...we had one black family in this town and we straightened that situation right out." When it rained he used to show the elementary school kids old Little Rascal videos, but only the ones that had " Aunt Jamima" and Spanky in blackface. I reported him to the University and out of spite the asshole gave me a B.

Of course that's not an indictment of the entire region, but to pretend that shit isn't rampant is just burying your head in the sand.

HA !

ty, Mike H.

dammit

You know, I start to feel good about things. I start to get a little bit of hope for the country and a little bit of enthusiasm that we all might be turning the corner to a more reasonable discussion, and then I see crap like this.

YO DEMOCRATS ! You're winning...show a little class. Show a little dignity. Show a little leadership. I mean goddamn, it tough enough for me to vote democrat as it is, please don't make me stay home on election day or force me to write in Ron Paul.

I suspect this would be less annoying if it wasn't for the fact that these pictures are coming from the Lancaster County Democratic site. They're encouraging and celebrating this ignorance.

I wonder if this frustration is what its like to be a cubs fan ?

sunday bloody sunday

Saturday night, without intending to, I got myself shitfaced drunk....again...on accident.

So this meant another horrid Sunday, sick as a dog with a days full of activities on the docket. I figured the only hope I might have would be to exercise it out.

I woke, ate a fistfull of ibuprofin and vitamins, chugged a cup of coffee, and went for a brisk ride with my wife and her friend. This did wonders for working the ibuprofin and coffee out of my system, but didn't do much for the hangover.

I took the boy to his football practice, then afterwards gave it another try and swam a mile. Terrible. No dice. Still had the headache and nausea, except now I smelled like chlorine.

Home, dinner, work around the house and played with the kids. Then I said screw it, and went for a 30 minute run...that turned into a jog, then that turned into a shuffling along the roadside like a vagrant. This of course was punctuated by brief forrays into the corn field to get rid the 3 full pots of coffee.

Finally got home sick as a dog, but still had to roast the pumpkin seeds with the kids. Did that then ate the roasted seeds with a little apple cider and VOILA !like a miracle the hangover left. Now some might say that it had worked itself out, so might say it was all the exercising, but 'some' don't know what the hell they're talking about. Pumpkin seeds and apple cider might actually be the cure for cancer.

In any case, I've given up the idea that I might be able to reign in my binge drinking, but I've committed myself to being the most fit guy on the liver transplant unit.

You know the cynical side of me almost wrote last night to bet on how long it would take to start attacking Joe the Plumber. Even I would have lost to the under.

Of course they're saying he's not a certified plumber.
He's no where near amking 250K or near buying his bosses buisness, that the whole thing is bunk.
AND
he's a close relation to Keating of the Keating 5.

Just so you know, I could give a shit. I frankly didn't put have much interest in Joe the Plumer when he was a hero and I wont give (pardon the inevitable pun) two turds when he's made into the foil.

Its all a fascade to keep everyone distracted from talking about the real subjects.

A friend wrote this to me today and I think it's brilliant:

"I don't know which one I detest more – the politics of fear or the politics of "I am going to see that the government ends poverty and helps you live the American dream" when in reality on the one side the conservatives are playing on the fears and ignorance of many, while the liberals are playing to the greed and gullibility of many. "

I also think this is a riot

Is McCain blinking in morse code ?

please let this be real

how the grand canyon was made

me: Did you give permission for the church to have a bonfire ?

her: Yes, that's always so much fun.

me: Well you can't do that. The ordinance is very clear, you cannot have bonfires.

her: But they're on more than 10 acres of land, so its ok.

me: No. The 10 acre provision in the ordinance is for agricultural purposes.

her: Yeah, well the farm there too. The have a nice barn....

me: No that's not the point. Agricultural purposes means that they can clear brush an-

her: ...and a little office, and when you drive in they have an old wagon. You should see it, your kids would love it.

me: Yeah, great. What I mean is that a bonfire is not an agricultural purpose. A bonfire is where you get a bunch of people together to dance around a giant pile of wood and get drunk.

her: Oh there people don't drink. Maybe I didn't tell you this if for the church.

me: Yeah I know. I didn't mean literally drink. I mean its for fun.

her: Maybe some of the people drink. They wont be drinking there of course, with kids and all. So if you're worried about them being drunk and letting the fire go out of control I can tell you that will not happen. The Pastor there is very strict. Some people think too strict and that he's a little, you know, firing brimstones too much, but in this day and age I think we need a little more of that you know ?

me: I...what ?!

her: OK ? So you want me to them know " no drinking !" and then they're okey dokey. Anything else.

me: No...I mean...they can't.............no, that will be fine thanks.

all a matter of perspective

I was itching to do something active last night. In lieu of that I took the boy bowling.

Now seeing as most of my peers are so fit that they say stuff like " I'm going to give a triathlon a try" and then go out and almost win the thing...its easy for me to start to get the impression that I'm a giant sack of crap.

My advice is, if you feel like you're not fit, not healthy, and carrying a few too many pounds...go to the bowling alley.

I went from being the Dom Deluise of the group to being the Burt Reynolds.

Bowling ! It's easier than all that movin' around.

Now Animated !

The link to the main site is over here

----------------------------------------->

Get the latest news satire and funny videos at 236.com.

forget all that...its friday

gimme that toot-toot...gimme that beep-beep...

Have a great weekend



bounce....bounce....bounce

who are they ?

Who is William Ayers ?

What exactly did Rev. Wright say..in total ?

Who were the Keating Five and what did they do ?

All this crap being throw around reminds me of the Chris Matthews interview with the douche who was calling Obama the new Chamberlain.



I'm all for informed criticism, provided that its actually informed.

retardeder

I've gotten increasingly and noticeably dumber. No concentration, forgetful, and illogical. I mean it's been a slow erosion, but lately its accelerated dramatically.

It's either the:

poker
booze
coffee
or lack of sleep

Interestingly, I've laid off the poker this last week which has me going to bed earlier. And since I'm not up, I'm not drinking.

Therefore if I"m not wickedly smart by 3:30 this afternoon, I"m blaming the coffee.

Yeah, I know that doesn't make any sense, but gimme a break, I'm retarded.

You know what's pissing me off ? I keep typing the " when I mean to be typing the '. That's really weird because you have to hit SHIFT in order to get the ". Jezze I'm losing it.

How's it go ? Frontal labotomy vs. bottle in front of me ?

Anyway, thanks to Rob the Bouncer this is in the bag

Infinate Jest by David Foster Wallace

Yet another good author who wrote some really funny stuff and then killed himself. Frankly that pattern is starting to make me uncomfortable. Good thing for Sez his site has gone down the tubes.

Ok, this has turned into useless rambling...I'm out.

TJ Cookier

http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/29/news-views-gossip/tj-cookier-244128/

green aKers ?

Tim: You're always telling people what to do. You're like that fascist....what's his name ?

Tom: Mussolinni ?

Tim: No, no, no the one from T.V........what the fuck is his name ? Oh yeah, Eddy Albert.

Tom: EDDY ALBERT ?! From Green Acres ?!

Tim: Yeah right ! You're like Eddy " Fascist" Albert with all your rules and bullshit like that.

Tom: Seriously, what the hell are you talking about.

Tim: You ever listen to that theme song ? He's all like " Oooo I wanna be a gentleman farmer" and Zha Zha Gabor is all like " Please Eddy please, don't take me away from my family" and at the end he's all like " YOU ARE MY WIFE !!!" like threatening her and shit, just picking on this poor immigrant. And what's she going to do, " goodbye city life" that it, that's all she's got. That's me. All day long I'm like " goodbye city life" while your running around with your pitchfork and three piece suit giggling.

Tom: First off, its Eva Gabor. And you're no Eva Gabor. Secondly, there's a big fucking difference between Fascism traditional marriage rolls.

Tim: I suppose it seems that way when you're the one weilding the dick.

Tom: In any case. While I'm not advocating repression, you have to admit, under Mussolini the trains DID run on time.

Tim: Yeah, up until they burned the bastard.

Tom: If it saved him from having conversations like this, I'm sure it was a welcomed end. Now get back to work.

EEEEEEVELLLLLL

AN unbelievable story.

* Mine worker
* Convict
* Champion Insurance Salesman
* Poacher
* Arm wrestler
* and on and on

I like this:
On the morning of the jump, Knievel stopped in the casino and placed his last 100 dollars on the blackjack table (which he lost), stopped by the bar and had a shot of Wild Turkey and then headed outside where he was joined by several members of the Caesars staff, as well as two scantily clad showgirls. After doing his normal pre-jump show and a few warm up approaches, Knievel began his real approach. When he hit the takeoff ramp, he felt the motorcycle unexpectedly decelerate. The sudden loss of power on the takeoff caused Knievel to come up short and land on the safety ramp which was supported by a van. This caused the handlebars to be ripped out of his hands as he tumbled over them onto the pavement where he skidded into the Dunes parking lot. As a result of the crash, Knievel suffered a crushed pelvis and femur, fractures to his hip, wrist and both ankles and a concussion that kept him in a coma for 29 days

I used to have one of these

perception is reality

Down home soccer mom, woman of the people - Todd Palin works for the London-based oil company BP as an oil-field production operator and owns a commercial fishing business. The Palins have an estimated combined net worth of $1.2 million.

Big mean old rich white senator dude - With a net worth between $59,000 and $366,000,and almost no outside income or investment income, he is consistently ranked as one of the least wealthy members of the Senate.

GO FIGHTEN PHILS !!!!

Mott the Hoople

I'm not much of a music guy. I mean I like it, but I don't buy it...nor do I rip it off.

But usually once a year I get an impulse and buy something that grabs my attention.

2005 - 50cent - Get Rich or Die Trying
2006 - George Thorogoods Greatest Hits
2007 - Johny Cashs Great Hits ( as you can see I'm a greatest hits guy)

So this morning I went into Starbucks and

GLAM REVOLUTION - The Heyday & Legacy of Glam Rock

Queen, David Bowie, GOLDFRAPP !!!! by God GOLDFRAPP !!!....Mott THe Hoople, Adam and the Ants, Roxy Music and a seperate track by Bryan ( with a y) Ferry, T. Rex, The New York Dolls, Iggy Friggin-Pop.

My only disappointment is that it didn't come with a scarf and some eyeliner.

GLAM ON !

what a life

I'm sure there's a way to get pictures from my phone and onto my computer.
I'm also sure that I'll never figure out how to do that...which is too bad because I have some good ones.

They say that all any parent ever wants to do is to give their kids a better life than what they had. But at what point is it ok to start getting jealous ?

Point in case...

Saturday I took the boy to the Phillies game. Not just any Phils game, but one in which they were playing for the NL East title. Because the Flyers had a special game at the Spectrum and Temple was playing at the Link we went public transportation. A short train, trolley, a then subway ride ( and 200 hands of blackjack) later we were sitting a dozen rows off the field eating ice cream. Not only did the boy enjoy a gluttonous afternoon of pizza, soda and ice cream, but we got an incredible nailbiter of a game. Jimmy Rollins made a diving save up the middle and turned a double-play in the 9th, with the bases loaded to seal the deal.

The place went nuts even by Philadelphia standards. There were fireworks, the bell was ringing, strangers were hugging each other. You could probably see all of this if you all were huddled in my office looking at my phone.

Sunday the boy had a football game. He started at quarterback and threw a completed pass for a touchdown and a completed pass for an extra point in the pouring rain at a level where just completing a pass is about a 8 to 1 shot. He rounded out the effort with two catch, a sack, and one interception.

We came home, made cheesesteaks, made a strawberry pie, and ate it all watching football until we feel asleep.

Damn I'm a lucky kid...I mean HE...yeah HE's a lucky kid.

real comfort

I broke my rear deraileur cable on my ride Tuesday. That meant 5 miles home in the 39x12.

Thursday came quicker than expected and that left me in a pickle. I moved a bunch of stuff around in the garage and dug out my old Cannondale retired something like 8 years ago. The thing had about a quarter inch of dust on it. The bar tape was held together by some electrical tape, and it still had vista lights and my drop-in bars ( the greatest bars ever invented i might add) and a rear blinker from when I had last used it as a commuter.

I threw some good wheels on it, doused the chain with WD-40 ( only the best) and headed out.

Talk about sweeeeeet.

It was like finding your high school baseball glove and sliding it on your hand. The thing fit absolutely perfect. It was only a 45 minute ride, but may have been one of the more enjoyable rides of the year. I may have a hard time going back.

Anyway, your funny clip of the day...

hey wait a sec

It occurred to my on my drive in today.....so the Prez says the banks need an influx of cash...very important he says. OK I'm down with that.

But how about this ? Instead of printing up a bunch of money and giving it to them, or instead of assuming all their debt, how about this plan...

The government immediately drops the federal income tax rate for everyone paying taxes by 60%. That means instead of paying 40% of your income in federal taxes you only have to pay 24%. That's going to immediately give everyone in the country between a 6% and 16% raise.

With that, many of the people defaulting on their mortgages will have the money to actually PAY their monthly mortgage. People who have been reluctant to purchase a house might have the funds to do so. And everyone else will have money to spend, invest, and PUT IN THE BANKS.

Now the natural question is, how is the government going to get by on 40% of what they're used to having ? I say, let them figure that out. They can tighten the purse strings, they can be more attentive to waste, and if they're really in a jam they can print up money like they plan on doing anyway. But at least this way, we'd stand a chance.

ludes

I....ah......wow !

neo-cons are funny

From FoxNews ( of course)

Former UN Secretary Bolton talking about Ahmadinejad's address yesterday

BOLTON:

And if anybody needed any convincing about how dangerous the Iranian regime is listen to Ahmadinejad today. Not only did he say the things that you mentioned, he also said that Zionists controlled the financial markets in the United States.

This is what this man thinks. Imagine him in possession of nuclear wapons.

yes, that's crazy, to think such a thing...wonder where would he get that idea ?

Federal Reserve Board of Governors ( of 6 positions)
Bernanke, Kohn, Mishkin, Kroszner

Bush forein policy team
Chertoff, Bolton, Pearle

and a foreign policy program the rejects diplomacy and supports Isreal's right to PREEMPTIVE attacks on PERCEIVED threats.

Yeah, he's crazy.

**EDIT**

And before anyone jumps to conclussions....do not mistake those comments to be anti-semetic.

Simply put, there's an overt and unapologetic dispensationalist Christian and pro-Isreal influence in this current administration, and in the US government in general. So to have members of the administration continue to use comments about Zionism as 'evidence' of lunacy strikes me as funny ( not haha funny, but Orwellian double-speak funny...which really isn't that funy now that I think about it).

See this stuff scares me because you have a rising movement among evangelical Christians who really believe the rapture is coming soon. And the rise of Palin is further evidence that this movement is gaining momentum. My greatest fear is that these folks are going to succeed in self-fullfilling their own prophesy.

WOW ! That's a far cry from my usual farting stories eh ?

Thank you freecycle

FREECYCLING.ORG

No, its not a cycling thing...its a REcycling thing.

You know all that stuff you have in your garage that you don't want to throw away because it still works...but you know you aren't ever going to use it again ?

Well this is your answer. You post what you have and if anyone can use it, the come and get it.

I posted my kids swingset on Friday at 2 pm, had 5 intersted people by the next morning and by Sunday at noon the entire swingset was out of my backyard ( no mean feat).

Just as important, I suppose, is that instead of being in a landfill or being firewood, the payset is going to put to good use by a new group of kids.

how good is this ?

Minimize the screen because the video is stupid, but how about this songwriting.

If I could do two things that I cannot do, writing something like this would be one of them. The other would be to be able to sing Gospel like a large southern black woman.

good poker story from 2+2

While visiting Scottsdale, I wandered over to the Indian casino and jumped into a 2/5 game. I sat in seat 7 at a full table. Next to me in seat 8 was a retired hockey player, no one famous or even well known. He was a big guy and apparently a regular. He had been drinking and developed a terrible negative attitude, berating the players and the dealers at every opportunity. This goes on for some time and everyone is just putting up with him. Despite his drinking however he remained rock tight.

Across the table in seat 3, sat a very young wispy haired kid whose shoulders barely spanned a foot. The kid looked 13 but was a good player.

The kid and the hockey player end up HU in a big pot. The river was dealt. Kid moved all in. Hockey player went in the tank. After a minute he folds. Kid slaps down rags face up.

Hockey player blows up. Berates the kid for showing the bluff and starts calling the kid names. The kid pulls the pot and starts stacking. The last name the hockey player yelled was "f***ing derelict!"

There was a brief pause. Then the wispy haired kid pushed two of his $100 stacks back toward the center of the table and said to the hockey player, "This $200 is yours if you can spell 'derelict'." The hockey player froze. I could barely contain myself. I had to turn away. Remember, the hockey player was sitting right next to me.

The stacks went back to the kid. The hockey player never said another word to anyone.

Later in the session, I noticed the hockey player with a pen and paper on his lap under the table. He was trying to spell out derelict

customer enterprise relations management architecture

The one thing that always bothers me about tech people is that they're always using words that send my bullshit meter into the red.

Now I know at this point that the jargon is industry wide and people are just communicating in kind, but I have a had time saying, "ok, ok Im impressed already..computers are mystical...programming is magic...I get it...just say what you mean".

I think these fuckers are paid by the syllable.

Parenting the insane

Matt Damon pretty much capturing my emotional state with regard to the presidental election. And before you nutjobs go psycho on me, the destain and disgust extends well beyond both sides of the aisle and into all arms of the media. But there's something surprisingly shocking about the way he states the obvious here and how it contrasts against the contrived discussions that almost everyone else is having.




Onto less depressing things

Me (on phone): Hello Sophie

Sop: This isn't Sophie, its Sabrina

Me: Yeah....whatever. Put Uncle Ron on.

Sop: He's not here.

Me: He's not ?!

Sop: No...he's out eating sushi.

Me: Dammit, put Uncle Ron on !

Sop: OK....and I'm telling Mom you used bad words again.


I had a guy at work who called me three times in three days being a bigger and bigger asshole each time he called. I reacted by being a nicer and nicer guy each time. By the thrid time I had enough. The real problem was during the third call a workman for our security system provider came into my office set up his ladder and was working on something in the ceiling just in front of my desk. What he first heard was me ridiculously dripping with niceness, " yes sir, no sir, I understand sir" etc, etc....then I blew. " I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR NONSENSE !!!!!", I yelled at the top of my lung...standing and sceaming into the phone. PLOP. Down went the screwdriver as the workguy needed both hands to stead himself on the ladder. Then he hustled down the ladder, grabbed the screwdriver and ran out the door.

Oh yeah, the guy on the phone couldn't have been any nicer. " Hey, thats great, thanks for helping me out". Go figure.


I'd write more... but after McNabb threw into tripple coverage on 2nd & 14 with 10 yards of open field to run in front of him last night..I have an email to Philly I need to take care of.

Open for buisness

Posting will resume tomorrow.

where I've been

In a nutshell...

Got stuck in one airport....then got stuck in a second airport...was in both places with a headcold, so getting hammered drunk was out of the question. In an airport, with a headcold, sober might be the second level of hell.

Anyway up in the air, sinuses exploding, back down...rinse and repeat.

Finally got home after 12 hours miserable and exhausted. I loaded up no twice as many cold meds as recommended, pounded a beer, and went straight to bed at 8:30. I traded rooms with my daughter so that I wouldn't infect anyone else.

Somewhere around 2 am I woke up doped and disoriented and with a full bladder. I tried to figure out where I was made a beline for the only lightsource coming from the hallway.

WHACK

I walked right into a opened closet door and split my nose and head open. I didn't even bother dealing with it. I took a leak and went back to bed.

dookie

Part of starting my new job has been to try and make sure that I'm respectful of the fact that all the employees who were here when I have here have their own particular way of doing things. I'm also substantially more self aware because everyone in the office is a woman...more specifically all women between 50-65 years old.

The first week of work that was on my mind when I went into the non-urinal, shared bathroom and was sure to put the seat down when I was done. On the second day, I went in and saw the seat was UP ?! I took my leak, put the seat down, and off I went. The third day I went in SEAT UP ?!?! I was starting to freak out. With an entire office full of women either one of the chicks was getting freaky, or someone was trying to set me up.

On day four the seat was up and I was on full out paranoia. About a half hour later I heard the secretary get up and go walking down the way toward the bathroom. I went, put the seat down then laid in wait to see who the culprit was. I went into the bookkeepers office which is directly across from the bathroom ( another story for another time). I brought a folder she and I were going to review so I could keep an eye on the bathroom door without drawing suspicion on myself. After a minute or two I heard a click and looked up but the bathroom door didn't move. Instead, off to the left, the hall closet opened and the secretary came walking out of the closet.

" Huh ?!", I said aloud, " What was she doing in the closet ?"

The bookkeeper look at me puzzled, " the closet?"

" Yeah Suz just came walking out of the closet !"

He face twisted up a little more, " Don't you...Do you mean the women's bathroom ?"

Apparently, we have a women's bathroom.

Also...apparently the maintenance MAN comes in at time.

And finally....apparently I'm a jackass.

First day of school

Let me begin by saying I have some allergy that strikes me in August and September. I have no idea what it is, and it doesn't affect me any other time, but starting right around the second or third week in August I wake up every morning with my eyes burning and my nose running uncontrollably.

That's exactly how things started for me yesterday, which was the kids first day of school.

The allergies set the tone for what is always destined to be a disaster of a morning. The kids aren't used to getting up, my wife is all depressed because the kids are going away and summer is over, and more importantly ( to me anyway) is that my morning routine is interrupted.

All summer long I have the pleasure of being the only up in the mornings. The rare chance to enjoy the quiet solitude has really made me a morning person. Grib, who had 4 brothers and 3 sisters told me how he would occasionally find his father sitting in the dark at 5 am with a pot of coffee all alone. What was once seen as maniacal seems prudent now.

So instead of quietly getting dressed and sipping coffee while listening to sportscenter I spent the better part of the morning screaming shit like, " I'm leaving in 3 minutes with or without you !" ( I wasn't) or " I'm going to make you all wear burlap sacks to school for now on" ( I was).

Finally, 5 minutes late, we got out the door, into the car, and off to school. In my haste I forgot my allergy medicine and the entire time over to the school I have to drive with my head tilted back and my nose toward the heavens so that I didn't have mucus running all over my shirt. This was of course made worse by the face that my eyes were watering. Frankly I'm proud of the fact that we got to school without me dragging 100 yards of corn stalks behind us.

We got to school and after dealing out the hugs, kisses and goodbyes I ran into the bathroom and got a giant handful of that sandpaper-grade institutional towels every grade school has. With a giant sigh of relief I stepped out the front doors blew my nose with great vigor, and wiped the burning from my eyes. Finally....relief.

With that, a passing mother on her way into the building stopped for a second, put her hand on my shoulder and said, " awww, I know exactly how you feel, the first day always breaks my heart too..it'll be ok."

good reading

Michael Phelps to write new book
2 hours ago

NEW YORK (AP) — Olympic superstar Michael Phelps will write a book telling the story behind his historic eight gold medal swims just in time for the holiday season, Free Press, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, announced Friday.

In "Built to Succeed," Phelps will also cover his philosophy on training and competition, as well as his life being raised by a single mother and coping with an attention-deficit disorder, the publisher said.

The book is scheduled to be released in December.

Phelps, 23, became the winningest Olympian ever at this summer's Beijing games, winning eight golds to add to six previous Olympic first-place victories. He holds seven world records.
Hosted by Copyright © 2008 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.

I bet it will sound a lot like this:

losin it

I've been trying to lose weight.

I track what I eat on fitday.com and I'm exercising and I'm doing all the stuff that you're supposed to. After 4 weeks I weighed in at 209. I lost exactly one pound.

When you're in a jam you should always go with what you know, and since I've never been comfortable with moderation, I figured there was only one way to go. Starting on Sunday I started starving myself.

Sunday was fine.

Monday I woke up hungry and spent most of the day thinking about food and telling people what I really thought of them (note to self: telling people they're whiny fucks might not be the best way to make a good impression at your new job).

Tuesday I woke up feeling like I was half drunk...that was the more functional half. I got up all dizzy and drove to work swerving all over the road and crying my eyes out over some NPR story about Arctic drilling...THOSE POOR ESKIMOS.

I got to work and finally cracked. I had a Clif Bar in my bag and wolfed it down. 2 minutes later the sugar hit my system and I got a euphoria that bordered on a religious experience. It was like all the vomiting you do before you start hallucinating on peyote....I mean, so I've heard....allegedly...anyway, I wouldn't recommend it as a form of getting high, but I wouldn't discourage it either.

So basically I made it from Sunday night till Tuesday morning, about 36 hours, eating almost nothing. It makes me realize that if I'm on a plane that goes down on the Andes, I'm definitely going to be one of the ones that eats the other passengers. And notice I didn't necessarily say "dead passengers".

In any case, I started eating a little more regularly, with of course the accompanying guilt that required a couple of 2.5 hour rides the last couple of days. So its reassuring to see the the anorexia has taken at least a small hold.

Oh yeah, and I got on the scale today...205.

I might have to give this guy a second look

the story here

John McCain's temper is well documented. He's called opponents and colleagues "shitheads," "assholes" and in at least one case "a fucking jerk."...

Three reporters from Arizona, on the condition of anonymity, also let me in on another incident involving McCain's intemperateness. In his 1992 Senate bid, McCain was joined on the campaign trail by his wife, Cindy, as well as campaign aide Doug Cole and consultant Wes Gullett. At one point, Cindy playfully twirled McCain's hair and said, "You're getting a little thin up there." McCain's face reddened, and he responded, "At least I don't plaster on the makeup like a trollop, you cunt." McCain's excuse was that it had been a long day. If elected president of the United States, McCain would have many long days.

yeah yeah yeah

I know I've been fairly tame since my return.

The thing is this new job has polarized my personality so that most of the time I'm so square there's nothing the write about. The rest of the time the shit that I'm writing is so freaky that I'm frightened to read it myself, let along post it.

So far the freakiness hasn't manifested itself in the material world, simply meaning that I've held it together in an impressive run of patience and sobriety. However I have a sneaky feeling that may all come to a head this weekend. What was it Jules said ?...



" I'm a mushroom cloud laying motherfucker, motherfucker !" ahahaha good stuff.

Here's a great link:

http://www.allmyfaves.com/

And I just discovered Conor Oberst:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWRhwJ6p1yg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ndeTIkOi9Y

Have a great weekend.

credit to matt

so funny

dang !

On my way to shoot 3 under until the final hole got me.

49 is my best. Watch out for the windmill.

http://www.addictinggames.com/miniputt.html

smooth

when asked about the complex intros that marked his songs and offset his trademark barartone voice, Issac Hayes said, " You don't stick bread in a cold oven baby ".




Isaac Lee Hayes, Jr. (August 20, 1942 -- August 10, 2008)[1] was an American soul and funk singer-songwriter, musician, record producer, arranger, composer and actor. Hayes was one of the main creative forces behind southern soul music label Stax Records, where he served as both an in-house songwriter and producer with partner David Porter during the mid-1960s. In the late 1960s, Hayes became a recording artist, and recorded successful soul albums such as Hot Buttered Soul (1969) and Black Moses (1971) as the Stax label's premier artist.

Alongside his work in popular music, Hayes was a film score composer for motion pictures. His best known work, for the 1971 blaxploitation film Shaft, earned Hayes an Academy Award for Best Original Song (the first Academy Award received by an African-American in a non-acting category) and two Grammy Awards. He received a third Grammy for the album Black Moses.

In 1992, in recognition of his humanitarian work, he was crowned an honorary king of Ghana's Ada district. From 1997 to 2006, he provided the voice for the character "Chef" on the Comedy Central animated TV series South Park.

Hayes was found dead in his Memphis home on August 10, 2008 as reported by the Shelby County sheriff's department. His death came 10 days before his 66th birthday.[1]
[2]Here is a complete slo-mo video clip of Isaac Hayes conducting the Theme from Shaft, which won an Oscar for best song.
After viewing, visit this lost mash-up classic from 1985
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9UTpVW...

A reasonable idea

So I came up with the idea for the shows "The Contender" and " The Ultimate Fighter". Social networking sites...I had that one years ago. When I was 9 I invented the turn signal that turned itself off ( although I was saddened to find that one had been around for about 25 years already).

In recent years I've been working on this idea of putting the shortstop between the pitcher and the catcher to obscure the view of the batter. When I inquire about any rule prohibiting such actions I just get funny looks and comments like, " There probably NOT a rule because nobody would be that stupid". I think those people underestimate both my genius and ballplayers stupidity/courage. In any case, even Edison had his detractors.

Which leads us to a discussion of last night which brought about a very reasonable idea...what if we started teaching high school kids how to not be morons.

(OK, that might be harsh...and impractical...I mean we're not miracle workers.)

What I mean is that society used to have support systems that have largely eroded in modern society. There was a time when a mother would teach a daughter how to cook, what to expect during pregnancy, or the fact that the quickest way to get a man to do what you want is an unexpected handjob ( ok, not MY Mom, but probably your Mom). A time when fathers would teach a son to throw a ball, how to haggle over the price of a car, or where the hide all the parts left over after you've built the grill.

But there was also the larger support structure when people would learn either how to do stuff or who to ask when it came to mortgages, dealing with local government issues, how to deal with house maintenance issues, money management.

And finally, there was enough common culture and community where people felt compelled to act civilly toward each other...more than that, there was a formal and accepted way to deal with each other. People shared certain verbal and non-verbal cues that prevented interactions from escalating to the point of chasing someone around their yard with a snow shovel. The constraints of society that went out the window over the last 30 years as being too formal or unnecessary, IMO actually served a practical purpose.

Here's an analogy that might make my point....

When I play poker with people for the first time I go over a few rules that I view as essential
* keep you bet in front of you and don't throw it into the middle of the table
* The dealer should deal the same way every time...burn-don't burn-whatever, just be predictable
* do not talk about the current hand while its going on

and there are a couple more, but you get the point.

Invariably, the first time around everyone breaks these rules and I have to go through the whole thing again. Predictably, next time around it starts up again and then I just let it go. In almost every instance, either someone acts out of turn or can't figure out what their bet is or some other sort of disagreement breaks out and people suddenly realize WHY I asked that we follow prescribed rules and see the inherent benefits of commonly accepted behavior. Then once everyone is on board we can enjoy the game without any distractions, arguments, or bad feelings.

What high school kids really need is someone sitting at the poker table telling them how to play.

Stuff like:
- When you show up to an interview, don't wear ripped jeans
- When you're approaching an interchange on the turnpike, move to the left lane and make room for merging traffic
- Don't fucking talk on your cell phone in a way that includes everyone within 200 yards on the results of your gonorrhea test.
- When you cross the street, move your fat ass
- When you make $8.50 an hour, 900 anytime minutes and new sneakers might not be the most prudent investment strategy
- Subway charging you for onions and you not getting said onions is not an offense worthy of a 911 call
- If you drive through a neighborhood with kids at 80 miles an hour, talking on your cell phone, with your subwoofer blaring a song about 'fucking da bitches'...don't be surprised when you find your tires flat and three pounds of dog shit under your passenger seat

I'm sure the list can go on. I suggest starting it freshman year with the hope that you'd be able to get most of it in.

Showertime

This is my shower




After an hour of hacking my way through half-filled conditioner bottles...



YEA ! I finally found a shampoo !

I suppose that's what its like living with women.*


* I left the toilet seat up on purpose when I left today...so we're even.

lawn warrior

Like most, I detest mowing the lawn.

Given the fact that it does give me a solid 45 minutes of solitude the experience has grown on me a bit...with one exception.

Whenever I bring myself to START mowing that lawn, I want to FINISH mowing the lawn. I don't want to take a phone call, or take a break, or get half done now and do the other half later. Because as far as I'm concerned if you stop mowing the lawn for more than 5 minutes, then starting up again is the same as mowing the lawn TWICE. And I aint mowing the lawn twice.

So Saturday I was clipping along at a good pace when the mower started sputtering and died. Fine, OK, out of gas. Walking to the garage and getting the gas can is under the 5 minute rule and therefore maintaining the continuity of a single mow.

When I picked up the gas can I suddenly realized that we had a 'situation'.

The can was just about empty.

I was about 90% done with the front and only had a small backyard to do. I shook the can, and eyeballed the lawn and tried to get a feel for my gas to grass ratio. I did not have a very good feeling.

I made my way over the the mower and recreated the opening scene out of Road Warrior where a frantic Mel Gibson uses hubcaps and a bloody rage to sop up every last drop of gas in the desert.

I twisted and turned the can and nozzle to get every last drop of gas out of the can. Had I been able to cut it in half and scrape the inside of the can, I would have considered it.

Then I made a quick lap of the yard to maximize efficiency. I picked up all the kids balls and toys, I propped opened the back gate, and eyed up the shortest path from where I was to where I had to be.

Then I reared back, pulled the cord, and started running. And man did I run.

It's tough to get an accurate perspective while pushing a mower, but if I had to guess I was maintaining right around a 9 minute mile pace. And mind you that's with have to make turns !

I can't imagine what my neighbors though as the drove by to see me sprinting around my yard like a mad man putting the mower no two wheels and power sliding it around the swingset, but at this point I'm pretty sure that nothing happening at Chez Flick would totally catch them off guard.

The good news, I got the lawn done with gas to spare ! The even better news, I now realize it should really only take me about 18 minutes to do the entire lawn if I apply myself...and I can get my workout in to boot.

See Jane Run

Friday was the Hempfield qualifier for the Hershey Track meet

http://www.hersheystrackandfield.com/meet/results.aspx

Steph wanted to do the standing long jump and one of the sprints. Since she could do two running events I also ( against he will) signed her up for the 400.

In the standing long jump she jumped 5' 1" which was good for 4th.
In the 50 yard dash she finished a close 2nd, which was great, but only the winner advances to regionals.

That left the 400.

Steph was not happy. She got her ribbon for the 50 and that was good enough. Some of the high school kids had told her that the 400 was the hardest event and that combined with the fact that it was 88 degrees had her scared. What made matters worse was having to sit around for 20 minutes until after all the heats for the 200 were conducted.

I tried to take her mind off things and walked her around the infield a bit and joked around with her, but she'd have none of it. " How fast should I run...what happens if I'm last....I don't know what to do", she grew more worried by the minute.

As the start approached I told her, " Run at a comfortable speed and stay near the middle. I'll stand someone near the finish and when you get to me just start running as fast as you can."

They run this event as a pack race so the girls do not have to stay in a lane, but when the shot the starter pistol Steph stayed wide around curve by herself in lane two.

" Move to the rail, stay to the inside", I tried yelling over the crowd to no avail.

At the 100 yard mark a couple of girls separated themselves from the pack and got a two stride lead. With that Steph moved inside and settled into third place. They runners started to distance themselves from the field and the winner would come from these three.

At the 200 yard mark the lead runner picked up the pace and second place started to crack. Her stride faltered and got choppy and she started going backwards with each step. Steph went wide around her and lost another stride now falling three strides back.

" STAY WITH HER ! KEEP HER CLOSE !", this was heart wrenching.

I moved from the 80 yard mark out past 100 yards. Steph was going to have to close a lot of ground and if she stood any chance she'd have to start sprinting early. The girls started exiting the final curve coming to the 120 yard mark. The girl in the lead had the smooth relaxed gait of a distance runner with he face relaxed and calm. Three steps behind was Stephanie grinding it out, desperately hanging on with her face wincing in pain.

I leaned over next to the rail and into her ear, " you have to MOVE IT !!!!! NOW !!!!.........NOW !!!!"

In a blink her expression morphed from a struggling 9 year old girl into something very very frightening. She looked like a cross between a hungry lion and Mike Tyson looking at a Robin Givens poster. And she started to run.

Her initial burst brought her right onto the girl's heels and the crowd started to scream. The yelling inspired the front runner and she lifted the pace holding off Steph at the 70 meter mark. Then out of the crowd and up to the edge of the track stepped someone who looked remarkably like my mild mannered wife. Above the roar of the crowd I could hear her screaming, " GET HER !!!!.......GEEEETTTTTTTT HERRRRRRR !!!!!!!

Stephanie found one more gear and pulled out into lane two along side the girl. 40 meters....30 meters....then Steph started to gain ground. Finally the other girl cracked. 10 meters to go she had a full stride and that's how they finished 1-2, a good five seconds ahead of third place with Stephanie running her first quarter-mile in 1:23. Not bad for a 9 year old.

I was really proud of her effort and more proud of the fact that she congratulated all her competitors and consoled the distraught girl in second place. She's a really great kid and I'm happy to see her efforts rewarded. I'm hoping the experience will also help her when she's faced the the next intimidating thing that comes along.

Oh yeah, her mother is a little embarrassed but shouldn't be. I'm proud of her too.

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