No need to worry, folks. I’ve not disappeared. I’ve just gone into hiding. I’d make a WikiLeaks joke, but I feel it would be in poor taste (read: I don’t want to get branded a traitor without even being an American citizen). Either I’ve gotten too caught up with (insert your favorite video game here), or, I’ve been trekking through the Himalayas with an avuncular, yet slightly perverted, Sherpa. Or I’ve just gotten bored writing on here. Whatever’s correct.
So, fear not! Soon, I shall regale you with things and stories you care not a whit about. Maybe this time, I’ll include pictures, because if you’re anything like me, you have the attention span of a gnat and need visuals to follow along with anything. Stupid Harry Potter books without any moving pictures like in the movies *grumble*.
Tags: anger management, angry motorist, beach traffic, bimbo, blonde, browbeaten boyfriend, Honda Accord, rage issues, road rage, Xanax
So I had a fantastic experience the other day, and I’d like to share it with the internet. Because the internet needs to know these things, much like how I need to know how Mel Gibson likes to yell at his green card-desiring wife. (I don’t know this to be true, I just wanted to say something crass to amuse myself; I look forward to your letters.)
I happened to be driving near the beach this past weekend with my ladyfriend, and we wound up stuck in traffic on a two-lane highway. We’d just come from a hot-air balloon festival and we were both in pretty good moods, despite the traffic. I decided to whip out the ol’ GPS (I’ll write a blog on how hilariously infuriating GPS’s can be at some point) to see if there was a short cut or alternate route I could take. Being in the right lane, I saw on the GPS that there was a left I could take in order to get out of the vortex of humanity we were in the middle of.
I checked my rear and side view mirrors to see if I could move over, and low and behold I could; the nearest car was a few dozen feet away. So I put on my directional and slowly slid on over. As I started talking to my ladyfriend again, I happen to look in my rear-view mirror, and what do I see?
Tags: Gerald McOsker
About five years ago, I was a senior in college. During the Fall semester, I had dropped a class before it had even started, and my roommate, whom I barely knew at the time, suggested to me that I take a class with him. It was a class on St. Paul, and since we both had a great fascination with, and love of, religion, I decided to take the class with him. My roommate told me that he had never met the man teaching the class, but he had heard the man was good. I took him at his word.
The first class never actually happened. As a class of about ten people, we waited in the classroom about fifteen minutes on a sunny afternoon before we decided he wasn’t coming. The next class was two days later, and this time, he showed. He had mistaken the time of the class, and promised he would never do it again. He was a tall, lanky Irishman with a booming voice and white hair. When he introduced himself, he said he did not want to be called “Doctor” because he didn’t practice medicine. Instead, he preferred professore or “your excellency.” Bespectacled and always with a bow tie, his name was Gerald McOsker, and he was a man who would change my life forever.
Tags: Ark of the Covenant, Beard, Chuck Norris, Chuck Norris Facts, Craig Ferguson, Darrell Hammond, Death, Dos Equis, Facts, Haggis, James Bond, Jonathan Goldsmith, Kilt, Sean Connery, Sean Connery Facts, Sean Connery Impersonations, Sean Connery Impressions, SNL, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, The Most Interesting Man in the World
I was moved recently to attempt this particular feat. Which feat, you may ask? Well, if you hang on, I’ll show you. Damn. Why, you may ask? Because I have a lot of free time. Stop asking questions.
I have become slightly obsessed with the Dos Equis commercials involving “The Most Interesting Man in the World.” Yes, they are a little bit of a ripoff of the “Chuck Norris Facts” craze of four or so years ago, but they have a better range. The man who plays The Most Interesting Man in the World (TMIMITW) is Jonathan Goldsmith, and he is also terribly interesting. Having said that, I began to wonder: who else in the world is like this? Who else could stop bullets with his beard, etc. And I realized I’d skipped over an incredibly obvious answer.
Yeah, he’s been retired for a few years after the last movie he did (“The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen”) got figuratively eviscerated at the box office. And sure, he’s been parodied (very well) by Darrell Hammond on SNL, so it’s not exactly a new trend, butt (tee hee) there’s gold here.
To get you in the mood, I offer you an assortment of YouTube and internet videos (no, YouTube is not the only source of videos on the internet; jeez) before the actual facts:
Tags: Aging, Angler Fish, Eyebrow Hair, Male Hair Growth, Rod Blagojevich
Greetings, bloggistanis. I have returned from a hiatus of basically nothing interesting to talk about to inform you all that I am getting older. “Panicky,” you may say, “why is this a big deal? Everyone gets older.” Well, if you let me finish, I’ll tell you. Quit getting so uppity in my bidness.
Now, for the purpose of full disclosure, I am in my mid-twenties. This is not old, you may say, and I would have to agree with you. But they say as a man gets older, he loses hair where he wants to keep it and gains it where he doesn’t want it. Basically this means you lose the hair on top of your head and gain it on your back, ass, and probably ear canal, which for the life of me I cannot comprehend why that is necessary. But here is another area that I can give you a prominent example of:
You see? What the hell is that?! Do you see that one eyebrow hair that’s way longer than the rest of them? It looks like a freaking angler fish trying to lure in unsuspecting prey! I should hang tinsel on it for the holidays. Or mistletoe. That’s a better idea. Sidenote: I always wanted a mistletoe belt buckle. But I get the feeling that would give me the unwanted ‘to catch a predator’ look.
But seriously (if anything about this post is serious), that is one freaking long hair. I have no idea how that happens either. Does one hair in my eyebrow say to the rest: “screw you guys, I want a better view,” and he grows an extra inch. Does that mean the rest are going to get jealous and want to follow suit? Am I going to have to actually trim my damn eyebrow hairs to keep them from looking like Jumanji? In my twenties?!
God has a sense of humor. Only sometimes he tells a joke that kinda falls flat. Like long eyebrow hair, or Rod Blagojevich. Seriously, that’s enough Rod.
Tags: 2010 nfl draft, Al Davis, Deacon Jones, Gene Smith, Jacksonville Jaguars, Jim Brown, Joe Montana, John Elway, Lawrence Taylor, Los Angeles NFL Team, Mel Kiper, Mike Mayock, NFL, Oakland Raiders, Peyton Manning, Roger Staubach, Ryan Leaf, Terrell Davis, Terry Bradshaw, Tim Tebow, Todd McShay, Tom Brady, Tyson Alualu
Hello my little bloggonians.
I just wanna say something quickly about a weekend that many NFL fans love. Yes, I’m one of those guys who enjoys having beer and pizza with friends during the NFL Draft; it’s one of the only prototypical guy things I do (other than awkwardly buying drinks for girls at seedy bars). Last night, I chilled with an old buddy of mine and played Madden before and after the draft. It was a privates-scratching good time (which, for those of you not in the know, is a good thing).
I just finished reading Peter King’s well-expected article on SI.com on the draft and it made me think. I don’t much care for King, not because he’s bad at his job (quite the opposite), but I can’t stand a guy who absolutely has to throw in his unrelated personal and political opinions into articles that have absolutely nothing to do with them. I don’t care that you like the new health care bill, or that your parents would be proud that America elected Barack Obama. Just stick with what you’re paid to do, would you please? Anyways, other than that, he’s not terrible.
I bring this up because the Jacksonville Jaguars, at pick #10, selected a guy named Tyson Alualu, a defensive tackle, who was not projected to go until the late 1st/early 2nd round. Peter King, and a lot of other people, excoriated the Jaguars for the pick. Sure, they could have traded down and still maybe picked Alualu, no one really knows. But the GM, Gene Smith, defended himself and said “this is not a popularity contest.”
Tags: Boston, Brahmin, Buraku, Caste System, Dalit, Kshatriya, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Sudra, Untouchables, Vaishya
So, is it my imagination, or are my posts disappearing? It must be the steroids.
Sorry my bleeding-heart blogerals. I suppose it’s because I haven’t had anything fascinating to say. I mean I suppose I could blog about things in my life, but my life is so boring. Besides, I’m sure the people in my life wouldn’t want to be blogged about. Although I could give them all nicknames. Yes! That’s it! I can give them all nicknames.
I have nicknames for most people in my mind. Most of them aren’t insulting. Or at least they aren’t intended to be. Yeah, that will work!
So, the other week, I had a wee argument with a friend of mine I shall name Voldemort. That’s a good a name as any for this kid. He’s a buddy of mine, but as buddies often do, we didn’t see eye to eye. As you may have gathered from my previous posts, I have spent a good deal of time in the biggest little state in the union: Rhode Island, and areas surrounding it. It’s a good state with some monumental flaws. But it’s better than being a bad state with monumental flaws. Anyhoo, Voldemort was hating on RI, even though he lived there for 4 years. He’s a Masshole, you see, and like most Massholes, they get their degree of worth from how close they are in proximity to the mothership of Boston.
There’s a system of radii in Massachusetts; there’s actual physical radii if you look at the concentric spheres made by Rt. 95, and then the wider Rt. 495, and then Rts. 395 and 195. My hypothesis is based on the caste system in India, for the ease of use, and not intended to offend anyone (I look forward to your letters):
Tags: CNN, flood, hum-v, hummer, humvee, national guard, northeast storm, Rhode Island, rhode island flooding video, the floods of 2010
Also, feel free to view the video I sent in to CNN: http://www.ireport.com/docs/DOC-427057
That’s what we in the trade call a badass truck.
Tags: buildings underwater, cars underwater, flooding, floods, helicopters, national guard, northeast storm, rhode island flood, rhode island flooding pictures, the floods of 2010, warwick mall
When I was growing up, my parents told me about the Blizzard of 1978. It snowed nearly an inch an hour for 33 straight hours, and that’s not including the snowdrifts. The winds were as powerful as a category 2 hurricane. It was a harrowing experience. I always wondered if I would ever tell my (eventual) kids about a storm or force of nature I lived through. After this weekend, I can.
Consider this your view into the Floods of 2010.
The Northeast was drenched in over a half a foot of rain in less than two days, and that’s not including the leftover rainwater from the previous week, which had coincidentally also been heavier than normal. Yesterday was the worst of it; the rain was so heavy that after only a few seconds of being outside would result in being completely saturated.
Rhode Island was the hardest hit state, as much of the state received over 8 inches of rain. The Pawtuxet and Blackstone Rivers, amongst others, swelled to double their flooding capacity.
Thankfully my residence was not hit hard, though many other southern New Englanders have been devastated by these floods. Below are pictures taken from outside and around the Warwick Mall, the day after the rains fell. This place is very near and dear to my heart. My parents would take me there on summer days when I was younger, and I would walk around and play in the arcade and go to Waldenbooks and just be a kid. In its forty years of history, the mall has never once been flooded; it is now under several feet of water. Hopefully the retailers and those whose livelihoods are linked to the mall can rebuild quickly.
As I sit here and type this, I hear helicopters hovering close by taking stock of the damage. Though the human cost was minimal, the harm done to the lives of many is considerable. Godspeed to those hurt and affected by this deluge.
Thankfully, this shop had closed down a couple months prior.
Tags: Bullies, Drive-by Yelling, Generation Y
Howdy my militant conblogatives,
I just want to share with you a little tidbit that happened to me rather recently. It’s about the struggle to be human and those fail to achieve it. Oh hell, no it isn’t. It’s about a couple of snot-nosed assclowns that made me laugh.
So, I’m walking in a downtown metropolitan area with a very pretty lady on my arm. We are on the sidewalk of a main road, enjoying the sunny day when I hear being screamed in our direction: “DUDE! I CAN SEE YOUR GIRLFRIEND’S PANTY-LINES!” I don’t even have to turn as I see a large, gun-metal gray Ford pick-up truck drive by with a pubescent, acne-ridden face sticking out of the passenger window smirking at us. I know it’s us he’s referring to because there’s literally no one else around. I’m a bit incredulous at this point, but what can I do? Chase them down? Write down their license plate to stalk them later? Curse them with the malocchio? All of these thoughts crossed my mind as they drove past, but we both decided to ignore them. He looked back at us and was incensed that we hadn’t acknowledged him, so he opted to flip us the middle finger as a his crescendo, his coup de grâce, if you will. His little buddy even slowed down to see if I would acknowledge it. In the end, they drove off wanting.
Now, my ladyfriend took this all in stride; she was more amazed than upset. She did ask me if I could see her panty-lines through her skirt, and I honestly could not. She really did look hot and I couldn’t figure out why these kids wanted to pick on her, and by extension, me. And then it hit me. They were picking on us because it beat picking on themselves.
Not all of the stuff you hear about psychoanalysis is true, but some of it is. Think of the kids you knew in elementary school and high school who were the worst bullies; they had the worst home lives. Their parents were emotional absent or physically abusive; they were lonely with no one to talk to; they were different in ways they couldn’t explain at the time. Judging by the truck, at least one of their daddy’s had money, so that wasn’t the problem. For all they knew, I was going to go home and have wild sex with this very attractive girl while they went to one of their parents’ basements to sneak some beers from one of their absentee fathers, play Call of Duty 18 and reminisce about how badly they embarrassed us.
Imagine this scenario, if you will. I recommend that you think of them all having the voice of the Abominable Snowman from the old Looney Tunes cartoon: