Q.P. Live and Me

Why I hate being married

2010-06-28T19:57:00.002-05:00

It's the last day of school.

I'm hammered.

I want to drunk dial someone who will appreciate my situation.

I think to myself, "I should call my wife."

This is why...I hate...myself.

If I knew the requirements for what a haiku is, I'd say this is one...but I don't so I'd say they should make an amendment (how very American) and let the above stand for one.

I should go further

2009-12-24T19:31:00.004-05:00

If you're reading this post, skip down to the previous one and then come back to this.

Seriously, there's a point to this.

Did you see that picture of what I got? it's fucking awesome. The picture actually looks sweeter than the track does in person but the cars are awesome and the turns are awesome. Since I have no one to play with, because none of my friends are 8 years old, I drive both cars at the same time. I don't feel bad about laughing while this happens because no one is around to see it happen.

The best part is when both cars hit the crossover parts (the yellow parts of the picture) and go flying off the track. Now, you might think this is dangerous, but that's because you're old and get too much clothes as presents. Remember, these are toy cars and are even more fun when they go flying.

Sometimes, one car only goes partway off the track and I ram it as fast as I can with the other car. It's SWEEEEEEET. Then I laugh a lot more.

This gift will be fun for my entire vacation and then i will have to figure out where the hell to put it. I imagine that by then the tracks will be worn down, the cars jacked up and I will suffer from carpel tunnel syndrome but I could care less right now.

So there's a nice little update on what's good with my life. In case you're wondering, I was in a severe car accident that caused me to function like a 9 year old...which explains why i wanted this gift and why I love it so dearly....or it's the McCallan's 12 I bought with the Christmas money I was given!

Notes from a Christmas not happened yet...

2009-12-24T19:18:00.003-05:00

It's 4 hours and 42 minutes until Christmas officially kicks off...yet, as soon as Christmas begins, it begins to end. Deep, right? Right. Emotional even.

Christmas is all about the season, not about the day. I think it's why I get depressed the second I open my first gift. I get great stuff for Christmas every year. There are 2 people in my life that literally give the best gifts ever: my mom and my brother-in-law. Every year, they give gifts that fill your whole body with warmth and entertain you for days, months and beyond. They're quite good at it. Case in point: this year I asked for an elephant for Christmas and the brother-in-law came through. I got an elephant...on a beer cozy. Talk about the gift that keeps on giving, right?

I totally got sidetracked...I always get depressed right when I open that first gift because, to me, Christmas is all about the anticipation of everything. The TV shows, the vacations, the gifts, the SPIRIT, all of it. I get depressed because the second that first gift is over, there is literally less than 24 hours left on that clock and everything goes back to normal. People have to go back to work the day after, the lights come down, the trees come down and it's just pretty depressing.

But then again, if you open gifts on the 23rd, like I did this year, you kind of get a few more days to bask in the glory of it all...and that I did today with this year's gift.
The wife came through with this...nice work! It's almost like I told her what to get me and she did. Then again, that's exactly what happened. It was for the best. I had no one to hang out with today, so I set this sucker up and went to town. I put the flags up in a repeating pattern and on the part of the track where the cars always fall off, I put the flags at half-mast.

A man once told me you know you're getting old when all of your gifts are clothes. I was 9 at the time and totally paranoid that I was old because I got a sweater for my birthday. Since then, I've vowed to myself to not let that happen. I always ask for some sort of toy from Santa every single year and it totally works for me.

So I say for this year, no matter where you are, what you're doing and who you're with, have a great Christmas, take in the spirit of the holiday and don't get saddened 10 minutes into December 25th. That last one was for me, but the rest is for all. Merry Christmas, Happy Festivis and pray for my cars and drivers who fall off on the corner with flags at half mast.

Dumber for having read that...

2009-09-29T13:21:00.002-05:00

That's an appropriate way for me to feel right about now. I just read a story about how a suspect, thought to be an army vet, stabbed another person to death because they bumped shoulders while walking past each other. Apparently, witnesses say the 2 men were taking off their coats as if preparing for a fight and then the vet stabbed the other dude to death.

So, I'm dumber for reading this story to begin with. I'm dumber because if you believe any of these accounts without considering the source (NY Post) you should be shot.

Then, I read the comments and I realize there is no helping anyone in our society. Seriously. The quotes talk of people feeling they made the right life decision to leave NYC because people took their coats off to fight. No, that's right. That's the last straw. I can't believe someone took his coat off prior to a fight. I'm done. I'm so glad I left NYC because if I hadn't, that would be the last straw.

Then you have the guy who makes the connection between stabbing someone over a shoulder bump and obnoxious Yankees fans...seriously I didn't see the connection but this guy is right. Dude was supposed to go to the Yankees game but got too drunk and then decided he needed to stab someone...what the fuck is wrong with people.

Then there is the typically racist talk which is amazing that people are that racist or feel the need to share it....and then there are the commentators names. "Mets4eva21" brings some hilarious thoughts to mind. I mean, I'm a big Yankees fan but I've never made any sign on name based on the team. I've never tattooed anything to my body in utter devotion to a professional sports team or anything like that either. I'm pretty accepting for the most part...that is, until someone brandishes an awful tattoo or wear one of those shirts that shares his or her lifestyle choices. We all have them and have seen others in them. I feel like we're allowed to stare in these situations. For example, when I wear my "Volunteering...It doesn't pay" shirt, I have no right to wonder what people are looking at...they're reading my t-shirt and it takes some folks longer to read stuff.

Like homeless people usually need more time. Or my cousin Rodney's little retarded sister...it takes her a while to read t-shirts. You might wonder why, right? Mainly because she is only 5 and never learned to read.

OK, confession time. I have no cousin named Rodney and he does not have a little retarded sister but this is the first one of these in a while and I had to throw some shock and awe in there.

But there is definitely a Rodney out there with a little retarded sister. It's science. If 1 out of every 12,132 people is named Rodney and of those 12,123 Rodney's, 47 of them have little retarded siblings and of those 45 siblings, 19 of them are girls...so you see how the numbers play out here. It's science.

Now you might be saying the numbers keep changing and that's true...because science is forever changing. Regardless of me changing a few numbers here or there, the facts remain the facts...after all, my changing of the numbers can easily be attributed to the always changing nature of science and I think I should be commended for staying so in touch with the present. I'm so in the moment that I can be understood. It's hard to be me.

Actually, lately it's been all right. School is back is session but things are going fine. Also, I lost like 15 points in the last 3 weeks and am officially not all that fat anymore. That's right. I'm back in frisbee shape...sort of. I'm sort of frisbee skinny but really I'm just on a diet. South Beach Diet, bitches. It's pretty sweet...but no fucking frisbee on the horizon. eff that.

I am Jack's summer vacation...

2009-08-04T19:26:00.002-05:00

Not the tall one but the one from Fight Club.

It's Prison Break recap time!!! No it's not. It's been months since I've been around so I won't write to the Prison Break side of support that reads these diatribes...though the final Prison Break episode is solely available on DVD/Blu Ray and since I have a Blu Ray player.........Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'll Netflix it.

Speaking of Netflix, my summer has been spent catching up on those classics you're supposed to see but often never do. They range from older movies like "Raging Bull" and "Platoon" to "Million Dollar Baby" and "Semi Pro."

That's right, "Semi Pro." That movie was awful. Can we stop supporting Will Ferrell now? He's not really all that funny. The guy from "The Hangover" tried to be Will Ferrell and that was just as embarrassing as actually being Will Ferrell. People watch SNL because of the history it has of being funny. It goes through periods where it is just not funny at all anymore and then every 10 years or so someone comes along and rescues the show. The last time it was funny was when Will Ferrell was on it. I think he's used up all that good credit he earned from making SNL funny again. Seriously, stop supporting Will Ferrell.

Other than Netflix, I've been playing a lot of basketball. How do you have so much time to watch movies and play basketball? Easy. I don't work over the summer. Summer vacation, folks, is every bit as good as advertised. It's like you have nothing to do and if you do anything you almost feel guilty for having done something. Then you start to think, "Man, if I was really good at summer vacation, I'd be a lot better at Tiger Woods 10 by now." And I should be...though I did play on line with the tall Jack, not the Fight Club Jack, and I won pretty easily. No offense Jack...I mean I don't really do much so I play a lot of Tiger Woods 10 and you have to go to work.

Why am I writing to Jack...it's not like he's reading this...no one is...and that's OK with me because I don't need you, you bastards. I hate you. I just can't stand you.

Yeah, I also just shouldn't be taken seriously. Rogue Dead Guy Ale is a great top off to a full day of movies and basketball spliced with a little bit of Tiger Woods 10. Sweeeet.

Finally...

2009-04-29T18:13:00.002-05:00

There comes a time in a man's life when he needs a good talking to. Maybe he is changing into something he shouldn't be. Maybe he is ending sentences with prepositions. Who really knows. But sometimes, a man needs a talking to and who better to give it to him than an 11 year old fat mexican kid from the bronx. right?

We have a dress code at my school. Kids have to wear a uniform and keep their shirts tucked in. Pretty simple and straight forward. We never have problems with the kids not wearing the uniform but they sure love to not tuck in their shirts. Popular reasons range from, "it looks stupid" to "it looks gay." The most frequently heard one is the latter.

Last Friday was a good deal for all intents and purposes. The sun was shining, the weekend was on the horizon, there was a baseball game that afternoon and I was in a good mood. Second period was about to begin and this kid didn't have his shirt tucked in. I asked him to tuck it in and he got a little wise, so I pulled him out of line and asked him to tuck in his shirt again. He talked back again, so I decided today would be the day I stopped allowing this little punk to talk back. With a smile on my face I told him to stop talking back and tuck in his shirt. He spoke back so I repeated myself. This happened twice more, to the point where I began a little lecture for him on what talking back was and told him to shut his mouth and tuck in his shirt. He decided to turn slightly away from me and say, "Bitch."

It was awesome. I heard him clearly and he knew it. I said, "What did you say?" and he said he didn't say anything. I asked him again what he said, his face went white and then he said, "I said OK." He didn't say OK. He called me a bitch...and I laughed. I was right in his face (probably a no no) trying to get him to admit what he said so I could hear it out of his mouth again. I was loving this and laughing my ass off on the inside and barely being able to control it on the outside. I told him this is a very big deal and asked what he said and he admitting to "saying a bad word." I responded, "Yes you did, no come with me." We went to the principal's office. The assistant principal was walking out of the office and I told her he called me a bitch. She gave a shocked look and had him sit in the office. I was loving this because I was getting to curse for free at school and I couldn't get over the fact that a 4'3" kid with more necks than me called me a bitch. The principal was in the office and she asked what happened. I told her he called me a bitch and she responded, "You called a teacher that? At this school? Get your mother on the phone."

Our go-to at school is to call the parents when anything happens. He said his mom didn't have a cell phone, to which the principal responded, "I don't care what your mother doesn't have. You get her on the phone immediately." As he began dialing, the principal said to him, "Who's the bitch now!"

IT WAS AMAZING. The assistant principal and I ran out of the office because we couldn't hide out laughter. It was AWESOME. My day was only getting better.

Eventually, his dad came in so we could sit down and make it clear to the kid how big of a deal it was. His father doesn't speak English, so in Spanish he is saying that he needs to apologize. The kid wouldn't apologize at first, which made me laugh again, and then the father said that he was going to take away his computer, gameboy, etc. The kid's response to this? "Por cuando tiempo" aka "For how long?"

AWESOME! He doesn't care he is in trouble. He doesn't care he called the teacher a bitch. He's just curious how long he will be without his privileges if he doesn't apologize.

At that, I laughed out loud and everyone looked at me like what is wrong with me? I expressed that he doesn't get it and that should be that. He eventually apologized but I think he now realizes I get to shit on him whenever I want from now on because of this. It was great. Last Friday was one of my favorite days at school yet.

Do Not Watch This Movie....

2009-04-02T19:59:00.002-05:00

I've advocated this once and only once. 1 time only in my entire life have I put the infinite, under no circumstance, in no way shape or form, not even with a gun to your head and you'd have to be even smellyier than a turd sandwich or even douchyer than a douchebag to watch the movie: 21.

Just say fuck you. Say fuck you to whoever thinks about recommending this movie. If Netflix recommends this movie to you, throw your computer out the window in protest. A giant eff you goes to whoever bastardized the book or even worse, took what should have been SO EASY TO WRITE and make decent, only no. You had to go and fox it all up with your inaccurate story lines and your horrible choices in actors and just an awful, awful, awful all around script. I'm not a movie critic...mainly because I can watch awful movies. But not this time. You fucked up, people who worked on 21. And I'm cursing this much even though my mom reads this now. Hi mom.

Anyway, don't watch this movie.

Finally, QP Live now on Twitter. Why? Because if my real self went on Twitter, I'd have to kill myself.

The Dominican Republic...

2009-02-22T18:35:00.020-05:00

is amazing. Mainly because Ruddiger wasn't there. Just kidding. That was my little joke last post. I don't hate Ruddiger. I don't not like him at all. He's just swell. So if I made anyone uncomfortable or caused anyone to spontaneously make fun of me for the last month because of a fictitious disliking of someone, I'd just like to say I was kidding.

Is fictitious the right word? I wanted to write fictionous but I don't think that's a word. It should be though.

Anyway, this is my guidebook to the Dominican Republic.

The wife and I flew in on a Saturday landing around 1 pm. We walked through customs and all that fairly simply, collected our baggage and then walked the red carpet. For anyone that's never been to a Central American, Latin American or Caribbean country, the red carpet is when you walk out of the airport through 2 lines of cab driver and other assorted random people who look like they want to offer you a ride, take your money or dance with your dates. Either way, this is usually where I start to freak out a little. But not this time. This time, i was focused and ready to go. Why? Well, the first part of our trip was renting a car.

That was easy. Then we got in the car. It was small. It was a Kia Picanto. It was not made for what we did, but that added the fun to it. For starters, the DR has a new highway that is 1 lane in each direction. Fortunately, there are no driving laws in the DR so at first I was nervous but then extremely excited. No laws meant I go to drive like a teenager again only this time with no problems. Passing on the other side of the double yellow, speed limits, cows, all of that was cool. So this little Picanto, myself and the wife get through the highway with no problem and then onto the local roads. Our map comes out of a guidebook so all we have is the street signs and the towns listed on the maps to get us there. This works no problem, save for a little nervousness...but a lot of laughter. Part of the laughter came from this:

Those are cows and they were in the middle of the road. AWESOME.

So about 1000 potholes later, we make it to our location: Las Galeras, which is in the far east part of the Samana Peninsula. This place was pretty awesome. It's a small town on a dirt road. The dirt road runs into a beach. The beach there is actually not all that awesome because there is a ton of shit in the water. However, if you swim out 25 feet, you're in clear blue water. We stayed at a hotel type establishment called Villa La Plantacion. This place was pretty sweet too and had a circular pool right outside of our room. Our room is the one on the bottom floor, second from the left. It had a bed and a bathroom...and that was all we needed.

We eventually walked down the beach right there and watched the sunset, so there were redeeming qualities of the location. The next morning we got up and walked as far as we could down the beach, which took us through a resort. A coconut almost fell on us and I got to break it open...that was fun. Eventually we found our way back to our beach and took our only swim in the water. Where we went in was really clear and we saw a lot of little fish swimming around. This would be the only time we'd go in this water. Why? Well....

We knew there were really nice beaches around and knew there was one in walking distance, so off we went. It was about a 20 minute walk through a dirt road that ran by a few homes and eventually put us out on an amazing beach. The water was filled with plant life as well as what looked like an open water part. There appeared to be a path cut out so we could walk out to the swimming spot. It turns out that out there is a bunch of reef formations with a ton of fish, urchins, etc. living and swimming. We brought our goggles with us, so we had some awesome views of marine life.

We ended up going to this beach 3 times in total because it was pretty amazing and easy to get to. At no point were there ever more than 20 people on the beach with us. Also, there were 2 restaurants on the beach, one which took 2 hours to bring us food and the other which already had food cooked and waited for you to show up. If we did it again, we'd wait 2 hours because the second place we went was kind of nasty.

But hey, you can't beat the fact that it's got it's head on it still, right?

Our days pretty much consisted of what beach did we want to go to that day? The best beach to see is Playa Rincon. We had an offer for $55 each to not only go to Rincon but also get a tour of most of Las Galeras. On this trip we were taken by a fruit stand with gigantic avocados, taken to a what was called a plantation where they grew all sorts of vegetables as well chocolate...it grows on trees? Also, they grew their own coffee beans, so we sat down and had a small glass...and we met some of the local kids.

These kids saw us drive by and chased us down the dirt path that our tour guide drove us down on his dirt bike and our ATV.
Oh yeah, I got to drive an ATV all freakin day! It was great. The roads were not good. They were rocky, filled with giant holes, water, whatever, but it was the shit.

So after the plantation, we eventually made our way to the best beach I've ever been to in my life. It was the clearest water I've ever been in...including pools. We tried to measure how deep it was in certain spots where it was completely clear and we estimated around 14 feet. Our scientific way of measuring was the wife would swim to the bottom and I'd push myself underwater until I stood on her shoulders. My head was still a few feet under, so there you have it.
This is where we had our lunch...with this view. Just amazing.

Eventually we got back on the road and raced a kid on a horse. Seriously.
We were going around 25 mph when he caught up and passed us. It was cool. He then slowed down to stop and his little brother who tried to keep up almost ran right into the back of him with his horse. Sweet.

Our tour ended at what was called "El Boca Del Diablos" or The Mouth of the Devils. Why? Well, apparently, the water crashes below these rocks and makes this howling noise through a hole in the rocks. It was a calm day at sea so there wasn't too much noise but the wind coming through was pretty crazy.

It was totally worth the money we spent on it. If you ever go down there, go to Augusto Tours and do this trip. We saw so many amazing things that we would never had seen if we drove to that beach on our own...plus I got to drive the ATV, so yeah, it's worth it.

The next day we decided to go to this other beach that was spoken highly of called Playa Fronton. It was amazing too. Why? Because swimming in there was like swimming in an aquarium as the wife so intelligently put. It seriously was. The water was deep and full of sea life. Reefs, plants, fish, urchins, so many things we saw and it was just as clear as the water at Rincon.
Also, this beach was at the foot of the jungle, so it was pretty secluded. There were only 16 other people there and I know this because we all took 2 boats back...at the beginning of a storm...with the water incredibly rough and choppy. We were on tiny wooden boats going by huge rock formations and getting drenched. It was a perfect ending to an amazing beach.

Also, once we first got to the beach, this guy came up and said he would cut us down a coconut so we could drink the milk.
It was amazing. This dude just walked up the tree, cut 2 down, cut them open and handed them over. When we were down, i broke one completely open and we ate the coconut inside.

From there, we just spent our days at the beach and our evenings at one of the 6 local restaurants. It was extremely relaxing and pleasant. We managed to meet about 10 Americans, most of whom were from New York, 2 of which live about 10 blocks from us. Besides that, most people were French. Lots of French folk. The guy who ran our hotel was also a Frenchman. Not sure what this means, but just letting you know, you know?

Where we were wasn't the cheapest place, however. We spent about $30-40 a meal and because we didn't have a kitchen, all of our meal were out. That gave us a great chance to sample the local cuisine as well as spend all that money we work so hard to earn.

Our last day was spent in Santo Domingo. This meant we got back in our Kia Picanto, drove over all the potholes again, back on the highway and into a downtown city. It was really exciting to drive in this kind of environment and a little crazy, but I'm happy i had a chance to do it. I'm also happy we went to Santo Domingo because that means if we go back to the DR, we can spend our entire time in Las Galeras. We spent our day in Santo Domingo touring around the historic part of Santo Domingo. Unfortunately, I pissed someone off and ended up in jail. Oops.

The best part about our trip was that every day I was surprised. Surprised by the quality of the beaches, surprised by the amazing views, surprised by the ride on the boat that was also scary and surprised by the level of comfort I felt there. The only part that wasn't enjoyable was writing this post...because it means that this vacation is over and it was one of the best I've ever had.

Now with more suggies....

2009-01-29T19:57:00.002-05:00

What the hell is a suggie you ask? Well, it's a suggestion stupid.

Of late I've had some interesting events take part in my life. I recently scored more than 10 points in a basketball game. I recently attended alumni weekend where I decided I hate ruddiger. So, Ruddiger, if you're reading this....FUCK YOU RUDDIGER.

I got a blackberry but only know 1 person to blackberry message with.

I can put my itunes songs on my blackberry....only I don't have itunes.

LOST started again. I decided after the opening 2 episodes that with all this time travel and dudes in jail (not trying to spoil anything here) that it officially jumped the shark. Then I watched the 3rd episode of the season and IT'S AWESOME.

24 is back but who knew?

SCRUBS is back in full effect. It's actually funny and not shitty again. Plus there is a guy who shares the same as yours truly on it, so I dig it.

I saw my first fight at school. A 6th grade boy slapped a 7th grade girl in the face. She screamed "Don't you fucking slap me [n word]" and then slapped him. He fell and so she kicked him while he was down. it was hilarious. I happened in front of 26 other 6th graders and 25 8th graders. I spent the walk up to the 5th floor with the class wondering if I could get away without bringing this fight to the attention of the principal. I decided I couldn't. When I told the assistant principal what happened, she smacked both kids in the forehead with the palm of her hand. it was even more hilarious.

I had a flashback yesterday to working at the law firm and started freaking out at work. actually, i had a couple of flashbacks yesterday and I'm still fucking freaking out over here. It doesn't help that the dr. is at work until midnight all week and I go to bed at 9 (exaggeration) so i get no adult conversation outside of work and the blackberry messenger. When I say going to bed at 9 is an exaggeration it's because I actually have been going to bed around 7:45 and asleep before 8:30!!!

Also, yesterday on the bus, an undercover cop kept pulling people off the bus who tried to walk on through the backdoor. NO HOMO ON THESE BUSES MOFUKAS. The bus driver was also waiting for everyone to be behind the white line until she would drive. It was a small, very crowded bus. Then this one dude started yelling at the bus driver to drive the fucking bus so we just sat there for an extra bit. It was pretty funny when other people would ask, "can I please just slap this [n word]?" Then the yelling guy would say I dare you and then someone would say step off the bus and say that and then the yelling guy would say the exact words back only sarcastically....and then the whole bus would start cracking up. It was fun.

I took a student's cell phone the other day because no cell phones are allowed at school. Parents have to then come and pick them up. The mother called me and bitched about how the phone wasn't out and I shouldn't have taken it. Then she said that even though I'm a good teacher, I need to start thinking about the fact the kids are just out of elementary school and I need to change the way I speak and act towards them. Then she said some students are afraid of me and she is considering pulling her child out of the school simply because of me. I stopped listening too intently after she told me I was a good teacher. I was like, "SWEET". Then I tried to explain my rationale for taking the phone and it sounded pretty silent on the other end. Her mom had hung up. I really wanted to call back and say, "I'm sorry, we must have got disconnected" but I decided to be a bigger person.

On bigger person notes, I started running again. The wife and I have been going on yogs around central park. We run together for the majority and then at the end I start running at a fast pace. It's an awesome feeling to be able to kick it into high gear with a smile on my face. I missed that. I wouldn't be able to do that if I didn't spend 80 - 90% of the run at that pace, but I still enjoy what I refer to as, "opening it up".

On that note, happy new year. The slogans are slacking this year, so I don't really want to put anything here yet. Until then, I'm open to suggies.

I mean, it could be fuck you ruddiger in 09 but that doesn't rhyme.

Things that never cease to amaze me:

2008-12-19T19:41:00.002-05:00

1. Snow storms leading to good moods. I've never seen someone be in a bad mood when a snow storm is taking place. Holy use of passive voice in that sentence.

2. Prison Break seemingly making me a bigger and bigger fan no matter how many times they introduce new characters that I hate and say "That's it. I'm done with this show." Of course, then I go Opus Dei on myself for ever thinking such a terrible thing about the best show ever created. I mean the Company just saved Scofield's life. THE COMPANY. SCOFIELD. poop merc?

3. The ability of a man, a video camera, cats, the holiday season, youtube and a shitload of talent to produce this:

4. That in the Bo-De-Ga (anyone pick up which movie I'm referencing?) next to my apartment, you can buy beer singles. The six packs (cans of course) have different beers connected in that weird plastic thing that claimed Flipper's life. So I went ahead and bought a six pack of tall boy Colt 45's. Why? Because when a holiday miracle such as tall boy Colt 45's is put in front of you, you fucking praise the lord for making this miracle possible.

5. The black button on the bottom of the E-Z-Cheese canister. Did you know if you remove that black button, the cheese no longer flows? Who knew?

Well this pretty much sums it up

2008-12-10T20:21:00.000-05:00

I am, what you may call....

2008-12-04T18:39:00.002-05:00

The whitest man in America.

I was thinking about this two weeks ago prior to hanging out with some old friends from elementary/middle/high school. It had been 8.5 years since I'd seen these people, so I thought of what I would tell them my life has been. Well, below are my characteristics:

1. I'm now married. I'm one of 6 people my age between DC and NY married.
2. I teach.
3. I teach in a school in a toe-ed up neighborhood of The Bronx.

By the way, the T in The Bronx is capitalized. Who knew?

4. I don't dance...or at least I've been accused of counting my steps while dancing. It doesn't actually get paler than that.

Anyhow, I was thinking for a bit that teaching in the Toe makes me somewhat hood in my own right, but then I thought about it and decided that it's a very white thing to do. I feel like it's full of, "I'm going to go in there and make a difference". That's not my intention. My intention is to go in there, have a fun job, teach some kids some stuff, learn to dance and the latest fashions/slang words from the kids.

Also, I decided one day that calling places the ghetto or the hood was played out, so now I want to start calling it the toe. Thoughts?

Anyway, new slang word learned yesterday: "Tight".

Now, you might say that tight has been used for a long time...but perhaps not in this way? When I was cool, tight was used to describe something fun...or cool. Now it's used to describe someone who is really angry. Who knew? Perhaps this is always what the meaning was, but hey, like I said above, white guy over here...can't blame me for the powder shower at birth.

So the key to getting kids to pay attention in class is get them, what we call, "engaged." The easiest way to do this is to relate subject matter to them. So today we're talking about patterns. I asked where we can find a pattern in a song and someone said "the chorus". That's what I was getting at, but I took it a step further and brought it to a rap song...and then my shine came through. I said, "So you know when someone spits lyrics yo...." and went on from there.

There is no way any of these kids would ever pass up the opportunity to not turn their head and say, "wait, what the fuck did he just say?" So I did that to get them paying attention.

But I have to say it as white as possible or risk getting made fun of for other reasons by the kids. So whenever I say a line like that, I always add a yo at the end just to see how it goes over. Half of the laughs are at me, but at least they're paying attention at that point...which is always the goal.

and the day before one of our answer was $2000, so I had to say, "yo that's 2 gees y'all".

At least I entertain myself.

Lastly, congratulations to Dr. Devon Quick....formerly Mrs. Devon Quick...formerly Devon Van Leer for getting her doctorate in Paleontology. What's Paleontology you ask? Why it's the same field that Ross Geller got his Ph.D in.

Dr. Quick submitted her dissertation, presented it and passed the interview phase as well. So now she's a doctor too. Way to go Devon. As a congratulatory salute, here's a picture that always makes me smile....

....please note I now have to find a photo online that makes me laugh. This is a stream of consciousness blog after all.

Well, blogger won't let me post photos so that ain't happening. But way to go anyway sister...now fix my effing computer if you're so smart!

Goal #2 accomplished.

2008-11-26T19:08:00.002-05:00

It's that time of year. The time of year where you get 4-5 days off of school or work. The time of year where those who decided to go off to college with a significant other have broken up and are about to see each other for the first time since the overly emotional split. It's that time of year.

It's also that time of year where yours truly accomplishes goal number 2 of his teaching career, which was simply....make it to Thanksgiving break intact and encouraged.

I can proudly say we are there. Ladies, gentlemen, Prison Break fans...we've made it. Maybe we should celebrate with a best of worst of:

Worst events of the last few months:
-nearly quitting after 3 days due to the extreme overwhelming atmosphere i found myself in.
-being threatened with physical violence by a kid i could eat in one sitting.
-realizing that some kids are woefully behind in their math, to the point where adding is difficult.
-understanding what kids should know vs. what kids haven't learned yet

Best of:
-tops on my list:

yesterday was a review day for a test today. 4 girls wanted to come upstairs for extra help...or at least that's what they said. when it rains during lunch, the kids have to sit/do work/read quietly outside the cafeteria. these girls pretended they wanted extra help so they could come upstairs and talk. while upstairs they start joking about how this girl has a crush on some boy, who it laters turns out they are already expressing their crushes...not bonin, but crushin yo. anyway, they narrow down the hallway for me but i never ask who it is. about 10 minutes later they make fun of me for having a wife or something stupid (i don't understand 11 year olds). so i make fun of her because she's dating joshua....wait, i guess i do understand 11 year olds because this is roughly my mentality level as well. she immediately goes pale and everyone laughs at her. about 10 minutes after that, joshua walks by my classroom and i call him into my room. the girl jumps out of her seat and hides in the closet. point to Mr. Van Leer.

-some kids you can actually talk to honestly and get respect from. other kids aren't there yet as people. it's nice to have some kids who understand what you're trying to get across and don't take it as a teacher telling a kid not to do something. smart kids who understand people and people relationships are surprising refreshing to teach. they keep you honest. they keep other students honest...and they get good grades...which is key.

stay scofield.

Now in Mercer County!!!

2008-10-11T10:48:00.002-05:00

QP Live officially coming to you in Mercer County. We're down here covering the latest and greatest of events, a Prison Break fan club meeting!!!

Could you imagine if that was actually happening? I might have to end it all if I were really in one of those. I've never been "in a fan club" unless you count "laughing at how loud other people's music is" fan club. Like when you're sitting 4 rows in front of a person on a bus and your hear the music clear as day? Pretty bad for the ears from what I hear.

So it's back on the Bolt Bus for me...another venture to DC. Why am I coming to DC this weekend? Well, my wife left. She's gone to California to pursue some sort of career in...wait, she went to Vegas. Yeah, this won't work unless she went to Vegas. So she went to Vegas to pursue some sort of career as doctor/stripper. Honestly, I'm into it. First of all, who would I be if I didn't let her achieve her dreams. Second, who doesn't want an estranged wife who is a doctor/stripper. I mean, that is essentially two amazing paying jobs and I just have to sit back and accept that dudes who wear sweatpants in a desert allow my wife to rub up and down on them all day. I'm completely fine with that.

OH YOU GUYS!!! You know I was joking. I can't believe you believe any of that. It's unbelievable for you to believe what i was trying to get you to believe. She is just on vacation. Everything is great in married life. Couldn't be better. there is no gun to my head as I type this.

There is no gun to my head. Married life = working out...so far. I mean, well, I'm going to stop right here and talk about:

The Happening. Yes. I saw The Happening. Did you? It was not awesome. When I saw it was not awesome, I think I just saw the worst movie of my life. Some of you might know my extreme hatred for the movie "Terminal Velocity". That movie for about 13 years now is the worst movie I have ever seen in my entire life...and now I have to tell you I hate The Happening almost as much. Why almost as much if it was such a terrible movie? Well, it had Mark Wahlberg in it...and he talks to animals, so he's pretty cool.

Essentially, as I watched this movie, my friends and I kept laughing at how terrible the writing was. The Happening has Mark Wahlberg and John Leguizamo in it. How bad could it be, right? Holy shit it was awful. I think for getting his The Departed role, Wahlberg had to accept to do this piece of shit movie. Which means that M. Night Schlaamamammamamabad must in some way be boning Oliver Stone or his 80 hot daughters. Just awful. Countless times I kept asking random stiff from The Happening to tell their mother I said hi. Just terrible.

So what can I do to make myself feel better....well, I alluded to it a little early in the post but....do you know what time it is?????

PRISON BREAK RECAP TIME

You g-DAMN right it's Prison Break recap time.

So I've been going around asking the question to everyone I see, "Have you been keeping up with Prison Break" because EVERYONE BY NOW MUST BE WATCHING THIS SHOW. Some aren't...in fact, I found one person who was like, "Yes." and I was like "THaT'S AWEsoME!" So let us recap the previous 2 seasons first:

Break out of prison outside of Chicago in season 1. Season 2 is escape from America. Season 3 or maybe part 2 of season 2 is Escape out of prison in Panama.

Now, this season, we're breaking into a building in Los Angeles!!!!!!

That's right. We've gotten so good at breaking out that we have to be able to break in, right? RIGHT BITCH. So our season starts with Michael looking for Gretchen, Lincoln in Panama living the good life and The Company just not satisfied. So, they decide to go take out Lincoln, who can't be taken out. He kills the company henchman and gets arrested for it. At the same time, Michael has come back to Chicago to find Gretchen, and promptly gets arrested. Sucre and Bellick have teamed up after a Sona breakout down in Panama and also get arrested trying to see Mari Cruz and Sucre's kid. So everyone is back in jail. Oh yeah, Whistler gets shot in the head by this badass Company assassin and Mahone gets arrested after the badass Company assassin ("BCA") kills his kid and he comes home to see.

So everyone is in jail. Oh yeah, Dr. Sarah Tancready is alive...and they make a joke about it in the 2nd episode when she says, "Anything is possible, I mean I came back from the dead, right?" and snickers after saying it. God I love this show.

So everyone is arrested and Michael fucking Rappaport shows up as a Federal Agent hell bent on ending the Company. He has a little sweetheart deal: find Scylla (which is the Company's little black book) and hand it over. If so, everyone in the gang is free. If not, they're all going back to jail.

At this point, the only unaccounted for person is T-Bag. well, T-Bag finds his way to San Diego and assumes Whistler's false identity. WOW. Oh yeah. So Gretchen, Whistler and Mahone were working together to pass off Sylla. So we think they're all Company people in the beginning of the season. Turns out Whistler is working to bring down the Company and copies the card. Gretchen doesn't know about it but Mahone is working with Whistler. So, Company people figure it out and Whistler takes one in the head. Gretchen comes in to discuss and they beat the piss out of her for a while assuming she is working with Whistler. Mahone is off on his own and then picked up by the Feds as mentioned above.

So T-Bag comes with Whistler's bird book to San Diego and finds a shitload of money, a new ID and some other junk in a locker at a bus station. He goes to LA and assumes his identity at Gate Industries as their best salesmen in the world...ever.

Everyone else is on the same team with this video genius dude who created this device that can copy any piece of technology it gets within 10 feet of. So our episodes have been trying to find the different pieces of Scylla. You see, from The Illiad or The Odyssey, I don't remember which, Scylla is a six headed monster...so the Company's black book is in six pieces. So our episodes are finding the different card holders and getting them through elaborate plans.

We've had so ups and some higher ups because there are no downs on Prison Break. Right now, we've got 5 of the six, but our rad technology device was taken in Vegas when technology guru decided to use it on a slot machine like a douche chill..

Michael is having these weird nosebleeds all season and we don't know what they are...turns out when his mom was a kid, she had nose bleeds and they stopped. When she turned 31 they came back and that year she died of a brain tumor!!!!! GUESS WHO JUST TURNED 31!!!! and whose nose bleeds are back! YIKES.

That's meaningless to the overall plot.

so Gretchen eventually escaped the hold of the Company and T-Bag had to run out of Gate because this one dude figured out he was a fraud. While packing up what was Whistler's hideaway pad, Gretchen beats the shit out of T-Bag before they start working together. Sweeeeeet.

Turns out the bird book has this map in it, once you get the papers wet, that are actually blue prints needed to break into the Company's headquarters to access Scylla or something, it's not really that clear to me. But what is clear is that T-Bag is locked in an unknown room beneath Gate after Michael lures him down there and Mahone shows up and knocks the piss out of him. awesome plot turn.

Then Gretchen calls and says T-Bag better show up or she's going to destroy the book. All this over a book. They only have the first 77 pages of the book and she has the rest and they need it, I guess.

So that's where we're at. I think I'm out of Mercer County now, especially since this bitch took me almost 40 minutes to write.

OH yeah, the main reason I'm going to DC? To watch football at Adams Mill on sunday. There really is no replacement for that bar on Sunday, what with the antics, the discounts, the amount of football...and the nostalgia. Just a really good time. If anyone reads this over the weekend, that's where I'll be on Sunday from 1 until closing.

In conclusion, Prison Break is also Nomar Garciaparra's favorite show...so suck on that pop culture.

Holy geez

2008-10-03T20:42:00.004-05:00

it's been a long time. It seems like I say that every time now and, well, I think I actually do. though to confirm that I would have to go back and check my sources, but I don't really know where I get my news from, so I can't really do that.

HIOOOOOOO!!! Political humor thrown in there!! Did you see it? Did you catch it? Sarah Palin can't read!!! She can't say what papers she reads because she can't! Stupid face.

Well, I actually don't care. I do wonder if she cares that most everyone just wants to see how much droopage we can expect though...right? I'm not alone in that, am I? I mean you have to wonder how entact she is after however many years of being her. I have no idea how old she is, I just laugh at the idea that if she were our vice president, I wonder how many political figures from other countries have pinups of her. Because everyone else is curious about that too. At least that's what I heard from my news sources. Zing.

So a lot has actually been going on. First of all, I have a new family member. Welcome to the world John Dylan "Don Vito" Quick. He was born in July and the dude has huge nutz. Check out the picture my mom camera phoned to about 1000 people right after he was born:

Yep, probably gonna get tapped for kiddie porn on that one...but it's my nephew and that shit is funny, so please don't punish me. This photo is ripe with comedy.

In other news, I decided during the Obama McCain debate to take notes, 1) because other people were in the room and 2) because I was drunk. Highlights include:

-In reference to ethanol, an all caps "FUCK YOU IOWA" for no apparent reason.

-McCain said "killing it" and my immediate question was does he mean it like white people mean killing it (i.e. negatively) or like black people mean killing it (Oh totally awesome)? It makes you wonder if McCain was doing some subtle street cred thing there.

-I also put a note in there saying "It's awesome how much they respect the moderator". Why? No idea. I just like these 2 dudes...no homo.

Lastly, I got to thinking, especially now that the weather is changing, that I am getting a little paranoid. I take my watch off when I walk through the hood (probably not a bad idea) but then I got to thinking about whether or not it's normal that I think the weather channel is following me around. I mean, they know for a fact that I don't give them any credit ever, whatsoever. I mean, they're wrong 98% of the time, and as a math teacher, I know how large of a number that is. Anyway, the really annoying thing is that when I first made it up to NY, the weather channel was pretty reliable. I hated the fact that in DC they were mostly wrong, usually about rain. Now, I think the fuckers found me because they've been calling for rain for days and nothing is happening. Damn weather channel following me around like I'm some sort of schitzo. My paranoia is not for you to play with as I have very real paranoia (ask Slebos) and I'm tired of thinking that even the weather channel is out to get me.

you sir, have lost a customer.

typing on the bus...

2008-09-06T12:23:00.002-05:00

typing on the bus...hi ho the dario i'm typing on the bus.

so why not say hello.

hello.

first week of teaching is over. don't so much want to talk about it. not that much fun yet. or maybe never will be. i'm trying to take it one week at a time but that might change to one day at a time.

so everyone is familiar with these rad chinatown buses that go from here to there, there to here and all the filler in between. well, dr. live and myself are on one of them right now and it totally has free internet. not only that, it has outlets too, so if my battery goes low, it's allllllllll good. flat screen tvs, maybe 11-12 inches, as well are on this bitch and there is extra leg room because they removed some seats.

so i should be doing work, but i doubt that's going to happen. why? freaking hulu.com kind of makes it distracting. i intentionally did not bring any dvds so that i would do work.

of course, now that i write this i start to get nervous, so i'm going to go ahead and do some work in a minute. you're a good friend, you know that. thanks for getting me back on task.

generally, i don't really smile until around 7 pm each night when i'm finally home and the doctor and i sit down for a nice meal of food. i found out that once friday comes around though, i tend to start smiling around 3. yesterday, the simpsons were on. i'm trying to make a point of watching the simpsons reruns again because it's been so long since i have. plus, they are on more in NY. so i'm watching and it's the episode with mel gibson where homer is the only one who critiques his new movie and mel decides he needs homer to make it brilliant. it ends with the dog with the shifty eyes and the whole, no one ever suspects the dog line. yeah, that was fun. but what i thought was ironic was when mel talks about needing homer's honest opinion because no one ever shares it with him because he is mel gibson. he goes on to say that he gets pulled over by the cops but they just let him go. this episode aired before the whole "mel gibson is crazy" events that have transpired over the years. i just think when moments like this happen on old tv, that they are just priceless. turns out the cops don't look the other way when you go on a drunk rant about the jews in america. who knew that would come back and make me laugh all these years later?

you didn't. you're not laughing now. that was the worst, most poorly worded paragraph anyone has ever written ever.

in other tremendously huge, hold the presses, stop what you're doing and spread the word event that has happened recently......PRISON BREAK IS BACK...again.

and from what i can tell, better than ever, IF THAT WAS EVEN POSSIBLE! as one of the tens of fans that have seen every episode ever of prison break, i have to say that i loved the 2 hour season premiere, even if it did take me 5 days to finally have a chance to see it. one of the amazing features was that the opening scene lasted 17 minutes. no commercial break for 17 minutes and no one messed up a line! no problems with the set changes! this show is amazing. these actors are unparalleled. the writers are brilliant and i can't believe that a show that started in Fox River Penitentiary in Illinois has made it's way all the way out to L.A. now. What a country.

But seriously, I love this show.

oh, and i created a fake facebook account for one of my friends. this actually is one of the better things i ever did. he didn't/doesn't have an account of his own or anything, so one night i created a gmail account for him, signed up for facebook using his name and the new email and then had all the gmail messages forwarded to his yahoo account. so he gets a call from his girlfriend at 830 then next morning with her excitedly screaming, "OH MY GOD YOU FINALLY SIGNED UP!" to which he had no idea what she was talking about.

so he started making the calls then to find out who did this but i played it cool when my phone rang at 9 am. the hilarious part was that the second the account was created, a few people started writing on his wall, so i wrote back as him. it was amazing. identity theft is wonderful. so throughout the next day i get periodic calls from him telling me that 30 people want to be his friend, are sending him messages, and all that good stuff. he was pretty freaked out. my main purpose was to invite his close knit friends and have them do the whole, "it's about freaking time you signed up" and that worked to perfection. i let him simmer until about 4 that afternoon before finally confessing.

of course, i was laughing too hard to actually confess right away and he just started yelling at me over the phone because that shit was just too funny. try it sometime.

Still alive

2008-08-13T20:19:00.002-05:00

Yes, I still exist. No, I no longer have lots of motivation to put my knowledge (riiiiight) up here. However, occasionally things happen that need to be put into words, so here we are.

First off, a brief recap of what I've been up to since a month ago when I last took the time to share. Summer training is over, I've been on vacation for the last 1.5 weeks and orientation starts on Monday. QP Live is QP FREAKED OUT. I don't want to talk about it, so I'm not going to talk about it.

QP Live is looking more like circa 2005 QP Live...like in May of '05 when the bad happened. It looked a little like this actually:

Well, needless to say I was pretty freaked out by this and reminded of a not to be discussed incident.

Anyway, so like I said, I'm looking a little bigger these days...mainly because of chicken cutlet sandwiches, a lack of motivation to run a lot and no ultimate. Ultimate really does make the weight go down, but no ultimate means it comes back. Summer was extremely busy, so I didn't have enough time and the proper motivation to run. I knew that I had to start doing something, and I found a new hobbie: swimming. I've been swimming laps for about 30 minutes a day and I love it. I'm pretty surprised that I do considering I only know how to do the freestyle sort of properly and have never swum laps before. But it's hard work...and I learned that it is possible to sweat in a pool. awesome.

Also, there is a new member of the family to speak of. Meet John Dylan Quick! He's my nephew. For any of you that was wondering why my sister looked like she was pregnant at the wedding, well, she was. I just tried to upload a picture for you, but to no avail. Good ole google.

What else. What else. I've been watching non stop Olympics. Seriously. There are 8 different channels I can watch. MSNBC, CNBC, NBC, WJLN (Spanish), USA, UNIHD and then a Korean Olympic channel and a Chinese Olympic channel. The Olympics are super awesome. They do things like make it possible for me to enjoy watching the dumbest of sports (Handball) to having an excuse to just stare at chicks in bathing suits (beach volleyball...womens at least). And I get to ignore the Yankees collapsing. but that's enough about that.

OH YEAH. I'm doing this thing in MarioKart where I beat every level so good that I get stars for my "grade" as opposed to getting a letter grade. Once I get stars for each course, I get that star next to my name when I play online. pretty stupid, right? yes, but I can't stop until I get all the stars.

Lastly, I feel compelled to write about the passing of two people last week: Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes. I'm more of a Bernie Mac guy, but who didn't love Chef.

Bernie Mac was quite frankly awesome. Mr. 3000 was the greatest movie about numbers ever. Well, I was kidding about that, but Bernie Mac was the man in the Ocean's whatever movies...and did you see the movie Life with Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence? Bernie Mac has a few lines, but his best was only 3 words. It happens right around the 1:50 point...and it's worth it:

That dude was just hilarious and I'll miss him.

Onto Isaac Hayes. I heard that he stopped being Chef because of some falling out with the writers of South Park, possibly over the making fun of Tom Cruise for being a Scientologist episode. well, even if that is the case, he can never silence this character:

Well, that's about it for me. I hope everyone has their merc in the right place and all.

The State of Education in America

2008-07-16T18:27:00.002-05:00

Oh man, it's been 4 weeks of training, 3 weeks of summer school and I've come to this one lone opinion:

....

Well, let me do a little background information first before I get to that.

First off, they say everything in education goes in cycles. Whole that's all rad and everything, I'm of the opinion that things change because they don't work or were the wrong strategy to begin with. However, I've been a teacher for 3 weeks now, so I'm going to yield to those with more experience and give them the benefit of the doubt.

So, the current strategy in education is to put the fun back into fundamental...well, not really. But the whole yelling at the kids and trying to scare them and get them to back down just doesn't work. Generally, I agree with that. Kids know they hold the power for the most part and a lot of getting them to do work is them understanding they have to fall in line, because that's what you do, because they generally want to learn, which they do, and that they laugh when you yell...only making it worse. I witnessed this when I was in high school, as my senior year, the freshman clearly were of another generation that the seniors...I think I may have been a little old fashioned too at that point because I generally thought no matter what that what my teachers thought of me would affect my future. Kids today, not so much.

Kids today know they can get you fired when you step out of line, meaning they know their own boundaries of what they can get away with and basically what you can too.

Last week, I had my first "success" in the classroom when I was able to control a very disruptive class and teach a coherent lesson. Ironically enough, this was also about 30 minutes after I had another first experience: being cursed out and threatened by a student.

This kid said he did his work, did part of it, but had some serious attitude. So after checking his notebook, I lobbed it back onto his desk, where it landed on his forearm. The conversation is as follows:

"What the fuck do you think I am, a dog?"
"No, I don't think you're a dog. Do you think you can speak to me like that?"
"I can speak to you however the fuck I want."
"Do we have a problem?"
"Yes we have a fucking problem, I'm not a dog, you don't throw things at me."
"Do we have to call home?"
"I don't give a fuck what you do."
"OK, let's go call home."

As we get in the hallway, he drops the, "I don't give a fuck, I'll punch you in the face."

I believed he would and this was reinforced by my principal who stated that he was just loony enough to do that.

So for the last few days, I've thought about this incident, as well as other issues in "classroom management" or lack thereof. The kids pretty much are controlled whenever they want to. My feelings don't count. They talk, talk, joke around, talk, you get the point.

So after these incidents, 4 weeks learning in a classroom, 3 weeks teaching in a classroom and hearing countless times that education philosophies and strategies come and go in cycles, I now have this opinion:

If the kids don't have anything to fear, we need to put the fear back into education...we should be allowed to beat the ever loving shit out of the kids. They speak up and act out because they fear nothing. They phased out this whole barbaric strategy years ago, but maybe it's time to bring it on back. I've thought about this and I think I'd put a serious beat down on a 12 year old.

Now I ask you: there was a comment on a previous post about whether or not I should curse on this because I'm a teach now...in comparison to this post, anything else I shouldn't do?

Am I kidding? Yes...well, half-kidding. No this will never/should never come back, but I think I understand now why it's hard to control a class and how it's easy to lose control.

Yikes, I think I went too far....

WAIT, watch this:

You remember that "How a Bill Becomes a Law" clip on "School House Rock"? Well, now it's to Soulja Boy....maybe that person should be...well, you know.

AMERICA.....

2008-07-12T01:31:00.002-05:00

fuck yeah.

the doctor just told me that brett favre can't play for the bears or the vikings because of the nfc central rivalry.

then she told me he should ride off into the sunset, not in those exact words, but that he should, in the words of steve miller band, "take the money and run."

i agree.

in conclusion,

"WHEN I SAY POOP YOU SAY.....

''''''

MERC, YEAH, MERC YEAH"

i think she has a point. if favre comes back, i'm obviously going to root for him, but he retired and he should stay so. it's respectabled. i don't care if you can play again. i don't care if you feel the pressure to roll up again. dude. you had a great, if not the best career.

maybe not the most success...but maybe more than anyone could ask. maybe not the best numbers...but better than almost the rest of the rest...(OH YEAH...REPETiVTIVNESS IS rad....or, as la doctora says, "el mejor". holler pedro. holler.)

so as i watch sportscenter and listen to the doctor talk retard-ED, i decided that gash is toast and toast is tasty...so eat up toast. eat up son.

and to Lars. I see what you says, extra S included, but i fear not. why?

well, on thursday, i was told by a 11 year old to fuck off and that he'd punch me in the face before caring what i said. the ;ast thing i felt was offended. why? because that's the hypocracy i exist in and that;s OK....son

Seriously now...

2008-07-09T20:47:00.002-05:00

Where do they get these Olympic events from? I just turned on the qualifiers and there are women running at least 7 or 8 laps around a track involving a few hurdles, one of which ends in a puddle of water...that appears to be there on purpose. Who the hell thinks about these events?

When the Greco-Romans were starting this tradition whilst grappling naked before a crowd of onlookers who would later feed (they just jumped in the puddle again) their bits to the animals if they lost...straight out of Gladiator mofukas....sorry. lost track there.

So where do they come up with these event from? Who was ever like, "You know what would totally throw off the runners? If we put these poles about 3.5 feet off the ground so when they run by the have to jump over them."

I'm strongly considering this event was thought of by the same kind of person that watches figure skating for the falling down. It's along the same lines.

In other news, there is a lot of dog poop on the city streets in NYC. people always talk about the large rats (who are quite friendly) (in the puddle again) perhaps the odor of pee in a lot of places, but no one really ever said that i would have to walk around like my eyes are red and i'm too paranoid to pick up my head as I walk through Thurston Hall. No. There was no warning that there would be poop on the streets on every block.

It got me thinking, what kind of dog poops on the sidewalk? that dog must be (I THOUGHT I JUST SAW SOMEONE DROWN IN THE PUDDLE...I was mistaken). The dog that poops on the street must have a miserable existence. As a suburbian, my dogs always got to sniff the grass for a long time before performing their morning constitutional (thank you). I always thought they quite enjoyed it.

Sidenote, the commentators just declared the name of the aforementioned water jump is...the Water Jump. And the winner just set a new American record!!! I'm impressed considering before 5 minutes ago I was not even aware a sport with a water jump on land existed...but anywho

I always thought my dogs quite enjoyed pooping on grass. I feel bad for the dog that can go on concrete because I feel like that dog doesn't know what it's missing. Plus I have to walk around poop constantly and when I don't look down I'm constantly convinced that I just stepped in poop. That's the last thing I need to worry about as I'm elbow deep in teaching 6th grade summer school right now...but that's an entirely different post that needs to be researched further.

Grinded Gears

2008-07-05T15:55:00.002-05:00

You know what really grinds my gears?

French families who ask me to stand up on the train and find a new seat so that they can sit together with their newborn baby.

OK, so maybe that's not the worst thing ever, but come on. It's not like the train was packed to the point where there were no seats at all. There were seats in the same area together, like two aisle seats open and they wouldn't technically be next to each other but they still would, you know? Anyway, it only gets better. So I'm doing my homework like a good boy on the train on the way from the city to the land of suburbia. Obviously, because this is what you do when you are really lazy and don't want to take the elevator from floor 27 to floor 2 to do your laundry, you have it all squeezed into a suitcase that rests above your head on the train. Naturally, this bag is above my head and with the crowding train, my backpack with computer is up there too.

So French lady comes over and is all, "frenchity frenchity french french french" and I'm all like, "I'm sorry what?" and then she's all "Dude I'm french, give me a break" so I'm like, "That's pretty fucking ridiculous" and then she's all "No words, just stares" and I'm all, "Fuck it and fuck you". Needless to say, I was in a worse mood than I thought.

So basically, here is how it works. The train is pretty crowded to begin with and I know eventually I'll have someone sitting next to me, but the train is pretty big, so i'm ok with it. I also tell myself there is little to worry about since I'm on the aisle and whoever wants to sit with me will get to sit on the inside, so I'll be comfortable either way. So about 2 stops into the ride, the Frenchies are hanging out in the aisle walking 2 steps in one direction, then 2 in another with the occasional bump into the shoulder, even though their not a big people. And smell...true to stereotype. I look behind me a few times to see what the deal is and I see a bunch of open aisle seats, so I'm kind of wondering if these people are just going to stand the whole time. Then the french chick taps me on the shoulder with the "Excuse me, would you mind finding another seat so that my husband and I can sit together? You see, we have a baby." Immediately, I'm like you can go fuck yourself for trying to pull that "have some sympathy for me because I'm fertile act" and I want to say no...instead, I ask, "Where should I go sit?" to which she responds, "You can go sit anywhere else." So now I'm thinking not only does she want me seat, but she wants to have some attitude about it and also dismiss my existence to the point where I can just wander up and down a crowded train to find a new seat. Yes, I've said already that there are all open seats all over the train that I am aware of, including the one right behind me, but I wanted to be difficult...and I kind of wanted to pull the old "why me" act too.

So I'm not too happy...also, as stated before, this is when I realize I'm not in that good of a mood for who knows what reason. So after she drops that, "You could sit on the track and the train could run you over for all I care" line, I follow up with my last ditch effort of "Well, these bags up here are mine" to which I get a stare. I let the stare go for like a second and then decide to pop up and sit right behind where I was just sitting. I guess I just wanted to be difficult, or maybe I just wanted them to go away...mostly, I just wanted those fucks to do what any regular person would do and suck it up and sit next to each other in the aisles. You french fuckwad.

Watching game 5 of the finals

2008-06-15T22:09:00.002-05:00

I'm watching the NBA finals right now and it's fun to watch, Lakers v. Celtics, whoop de freakin do.

So I guess it's exciting, but these games really don't seem much different to me than a regular season game, other than the stakes. OK, they do, but they follow the same pattern as all regular season games. Team A goes on a huge run early. Team B then follows up with a run of their own and HEY, what do you know, we have a close game in the end.

So I guess that's exciting, if incredibly predictable is exciting...which, in this case, it is. After all, after (man, 2 afters in 3 words...talk about impressive) Thursday night's game, I decided I would live if the Celtics actually won this title. My anti Boston sentiment wouldn't initially allow it, but how do you root against a team with 3 superstars who play together, one who was loyal to his old team for years, another who has mentored younger players his entire career and the third a guy who has played in boston, with all that scrutiny and drama that comes with that, only to be there for 10 years now...add to that the way their role players play and they play defense first...I'd have to hate sports to not be happy for this team.

Anyway, I have no idea where I was going or how far I diverged, but I did have a purpose for boring you with NBA comments...or at least I did. Completely gone now.

Well, i guess we should talk about something else then. I'm happy to announce that I found a car in Mario Kart Wii that makes it fun to play with Toad again. I had been playing with a whole bunch of randos, but now I unlocked this ATV looking car that works with a superstar of Toad's size, I can now comfortably compete with the legend that is Toad.

Man, I wish I remembered what the hell I wanted to write about the NBA...lousy ranting going nowhere.

I know it had something to do with the rules because I think a ton of NBA rules are just pathetic. First off, they penalize for hustle. Why is it that if two guys dive for a loose ball and contact is made, there is a foul called on the guy who doesn't get possession of the ball? That frustrates me to no end. I also think offensive fouls shouldn't count as personal fouls. They should have their 6 personal fouls plus like 3 offensive fouls...Maybe that's too many, so how about this: 5 or 6 personal fouls and offensive fouls count only as team fouls? Cool enough? Man, I hope.

I REMEMBERED:

Here is something I think is completely ridiculous:

In the NBA, the bench is pretty damn close to the court. A lot of times, players shoot 3s from right in front of this bench. It's not illegal for a player on the bench, to stand up and scream in the ear of someone who is setting up a shot. Why not? If anything, this is just terrible sportsmanship...actually, that's exactly what it is and exactly why I think the league shouldn't allow it.

You can't criticize an official in the NBA. On the court, they give you a technical foul. Off it, they fine the shit out of you.

Flopping was a big issue this post season. Plenty complained and the rule next year is that players who flop will be fined. To me, that's pretty soft. I'm not positive, mainly because I only read that players who flop will be fined on ESPN's bottomline, but I don't think offending players will get fouls called on them. It's seems a little soft that you're going to fine a player who doesn't commit a foul? Or maybe they are giving fouls for it too. If that's the case, then it's all rad with me.

But back to the point. Why is it permitted for bench players to scream in the ear, wave towels and stomp feet behind and next to a player on the court, in bounds? Like I said, I think it's pretty unsportsmanlike. Now, if the players on the court want to yell or whatever, so be it...but those who are resting or just bench or role players shouldn't be allowed to have an effect on the actions of the opposing team on the court...that is the role of the fans, IMHO.

Oh Mighty My!

2008-06-11T15:50:00.002-05:00

Hello from a far away place! Officially, the Live's are residents of NYC.

First things first, some exciting news to report. Nope, no procreation to speak of...yet...or for a few years...but:

QP Live is officially a 6th grade Math teacher in the NYC public school system!!! Just got the call a few minutes ago, so I figured, "Hey, what a sweet way to let some people know without making 8 phone calls". By the way, thanks to the loyal 8 of you that might still check this. I know it's been a bit since we've caught up on the interweb here, but times are busy.

I have to say, I think I'm pretty lucky. Last Tuesday, I drove a U-Haul from DC to my parents place in NY. From there, I showered, shaved and put on a suit, got in my car and drove to a job fair. I met with a bunch of prospective employers, some who took my resume and simply said "Thanks" and a few others who took the time to talk to me and ask questions/answer some of my questions. In the end, I had one school ask me to come and give a demo lesson, another who invited me to come and visit and a third who said "We'll call you next week to set up an interview".

The demo lesson was Tuesday. I was to give a 60 minute demo lesson to a 6th grade math class. A few things you should know:

- I've never taught anything before, so 60 minutes scared me poo-less.
- Despite my ability to speak non-stop, inappropriately and whenever the spirit hits me, I've never spoken for 60 straight minutes.
- I recently taught myself math all over again. This was a must because after freshman year of miserable college math classes, I'd pretty much forgotten everything.

So I was nervous. However, thanks to good ole goooooogle and some fond memories, I put together a rad lesson that must have been what the school was looking for because they offered me a position that day. Sweet, right? Well....

The fellowship program I got into that has me looking for teaching jobs is NYC Teaching Fellows. In this program, they assign you a teaching area, which is also the area you will work towards a masters degree in. I was assigned to Special Education, so any job I found had to have a majority of my time spent with special ed students.

The school I demoed at already filled their special ed position before I got there, presenting an issue. Was I wasting my time doing a demo lesson there? Part of me wanted to walk out because I was pretty nervous about doing it in the first place. Thankfully, I sacked up and realized it could be fun and moderately successful it was. Successful to the point where I was offered a position at the school about 10 minutes after the lesson...

So that meant I had to try to switch my certification area...Is this possible? I had no idea. I figured it could be since it was kind of arbitrary that I was assigned to Special Ed, so we'll see, right? Right. Well, the administration at the school didn't want to force me to switch out of Special Ed and the NYC Teaching Fellows people didn't want me to be forced out...So I got to thinking, what would be best for me?

I don't think I'd always want to just work with special ed students and the only reason I was going to be doing so was that I was assigned to it arbitrarily. The school is pretty amazing. It's a public school that acts in a similar fashion to the KIPP schools and other charter schools. It's relatively small (about 300-400 students) and has similarities to the environment that I went to middle school in (i.e. dress code, expectations, etc.) Best of all, they seemed to really like me and to tell me how I'd be a good fit personality wise. These are all good things in my mind.

So it took a day of calling back and forth between NYC Teaching Fellows and the school to hammer it out and as of 4:45 on Wednesday, I was officially offered the position.

So I had to cancel a school visit and I still have to call and cancel an interview, but this is a pretty good situation for me. It's about a 35 minute commute to the school (Yankee Stadium is on the way home!). I also needed to change my certification area from Special Education to "Common Branches", which is more elementary...which also means I need to change the school I'm studying at for my masters. This is decent...at least I think so. Before, I would have to commute all the way back to where I live now and go back uptown on another train to get to my college. Now, I just get back on the same train and head 6 stops further up the line to get to the college...not too bad in the end.

So that's the work update. Let's get to the "You're a complete effing moron" update.

So like I said, I drove a U-Haul from DC to NY last Tuesday. Move in day was last Friday, so it sat at my parents house until then. All was good until Friday until we packed a few more items into the truck. In the excitement, Dr. Live and I take off down the ridiculously windy road my parents live on and then another mile away before I turn and ask, "Did I close the truck?" Obviously the answer was no....

Oops.

But those that know me know this: I am an amazing packer. I can pack almost anything in an amazing amazing (imagine that) way. For example, one year Mo was moving from Cape Cod to Colorado. He stopped by my parents house with his pickup packed to the rim. the night before he drove down, he won a cot in a poker game. So I got to thinking...he's going on a road trip, visiting many friends on the way with a truck bed full of apartment stuff, including a makeshift bed...I'm making this into an apartment. So I take everything out of his truck, set up his rug in the bed of the truck, set the cot up and pack everything else around it to the point where he has an apartment in the back of his truck. sweet.

Anyway, so I'm a pretty good packer, meaning not one item shifted in the back of the open 14 foot U-Haul, including the lock that remained on the bumper all the way.

Dunce moment # 1.

When we finally arrive in Manhattan, after having to drive the truck through the entire city, I park at the end of the block where our building is. A spot opens up directly in front of the building, so I hop in the truck, start backing up, hear a horn and figure this is NY so it could be anything and then feel a bump. I start to wonder what that could be because I know there is no street lamp behind me when I realize that there is a NYC Sanitation car behind me.

Oops.

Turns out, this guy turned the corner and pulled in behind me. Now, I was already illegally parked, so this guy was twice that. I couldn't see him because there is no way to look out the rear view mirror of the truck and this guy was so close the side view mirrors were no help either. So I get out and we see that the hitch of the truck punctured this guys license plate and bumper. After a brief discussion of "Are we cool?" and then another "Are we cool?" the guy was like, "Yeah, sure." WOOOHOOO.

Dunce moment # 2

So now we're unpacking the truck. Dr. Live asks where the bed frame we just bought from IKEA is? The one that only fit in my XUV if we leaned forward in the front seats and would easily fit in a half full 14 foot U-Haul.

OH that? Oh, that's at my parents house, sitting 10 feet from where the U-Haul had been parked.

Dunce moment # 3.

Once we're all unpacked, it's time to drive the U-Haul all the way back through Manhattan to the return place in the Bronx. Considering the NYC driving style, the size of the truck, etc., it was going pretty good...until we cross a bridge that for some reason doesn't have street lines. I was OK with it because I was in the far left lane and had a barrier next to me. The truck to my right wasn't as capable, so we played kissy kissy with our side view mirrors. Here I am 1/2 mile from the end of this monster truck with no damage to report when the side view mirror is thrust up against the truck.

Oops.

Fortunately, the truck mirrors are made to do this and no damage is there to report...just a blue balling story.

Dunce moment # 4.

So that's my boost mobile.

A Valuable Lesson

2008-05-21T00:03:00.002-05:00

I learned one tonight. I fell victim to what many people my age fall victim to. Drinking and driving and the resulting effects.

It was just awful. The sense of shame, embarrassment even that accompanied it. No matter what I did, there was no erasing or avoiding what was to come.

After two days of relative success, I just couldn't keep my kart on the road and just wasn't at my top ability in Mario Kart.

Drinking and driving results in poor Mario Kart Wii performance. Just don't do it. It's Maaaaad to try.

DING DING DING DING

2008-05-17T14:02:00.002-05:00

THE 200TH POST SPECTACULAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wow. I have so many people to thank. First, Jesus. Second, God for having Jesus. Third, Alex Liss for teaching us about Baby Jesus.

A couple of things happened to me yesterday. First off, you might notice the nice new font that this blog is coming to you in. To celebrate the 200th Spectacular, a new computer was purchased. So I now sit, unemployed thank you very much, with a new, fancy computer staring right back at me. It comes with such rad features as a qwerty keyboard, a webcam built in and a return button. All this and more...I'm sure there's a lot more, but it didn't really come with an instruction booklet, so I don't know what all those rad features are or how to use them...I guess I get to learn by trying.

A second thing that happened to me was a med school graduation gala. Dr. Live accompanied me to a few of these back when I was employed...well, not of the med school variety, but the annual holiday galas thrown at fancy hotels through out DC by my former office and the occasional summer party or whatever. So it was my turn to show up all dressed up and behave.

It was also $9.50 drink night where we were, which was sweet. That's right, cash bar. Not exactly what I was hoping for, but it gave me an opportunity to do something I'd never done before...drink Tanqueray on the rocks. You may be asking yourself why? Well:

-Bang for the buck. I'm not messing around with these mixers the kids are drinking today and drinking wine at this event would make me want to strangle myself with my penis. I don't know why, but that's what we're going with today.

-It's gross. I've drank gin straight twice in my life previous. Once was when I was a senior in high school and my friend told me it was good. It wasn't. The other was my 21st birthday and the kid who was drunker than me at my birthday party poured it for me and made me take it...that wasn't fun. So drinking this drink would mean it would take a while to finish...and it did. It was worth it.

But all of this leads me to why last night was a pretty good time: I realized that I really like white people...a lot. You might think to yourself that this is a really strange thing to realize 27 years into my life, but hey, we all have awakenings. Why do I really like white people:

-White people are ridiculous people in a restaurant setting. We're sitting at assigned tables last night, 10 to a table. There were two all stars sitting next to us, a couple whose daughter is graduating this weekend. Keep in mind there are over 600 people at this event and about 60 tables...doing math is fun. Anyway, as we sit down and start to eat bread, this guy asks one of the waiters to bring him some olive oil. Before she gets back with this, he informs another waiter, "we're ready for more bread." When more bread comes back, he again declares he would like olive oil for his bread. Once it arrives, he simply places it on the table and never uses it.

Now, you might think this is totally normal behavior for a restaurant, and it might be, but this is not a restaurant. This is a hotel (granted, it was the Ritz, but still) and these are not waiters who truly give a flying fuck what this dick in a tux wants...especially when it's olive oil. douche.

Seeing this happen all in front me of I enjoyed plenty. It was great to see awful people at their finest. Granted, this isn't that extreme of a situation, but I'm definitely forgetting stuff because I had like 4 of those tanqueray's last night.

-White people are amazing dancers. We're using Johnnie Douches from my table as another example. Not so much as amazing dancers, as amazing when they dance. Mostly because it doesn't matter who they are or how many there are, all white people dance the same. I started laughing pretty hard when I looked upon the dance floor to see this guy doing the standard 50 year old dance...which is feet firmly planted, hips slightly moving, elbows out, arms up, bounce shoulders repeatedly. I love this dance. It makes me happy. Also, it makes me feel more comfortable because I realize that even though I am crazy self conscious about my own dancing, I know I'm only a funny dancer when I am doing the funny dances that I make up over the course of time...in fact, I'm adding elbows out to my repertoire.

-White people love songs that tell you how to dance to them. For example, the Cha Cha slide. I know white people love these, because I fucking love this with all my heart. The electric slide is not one of them and whoever convinced the DJ at my wedding to play this song is an asshole and comedic genius. Anyway, in addition to the Cha Cha Slide, there is a new song taking over: the Cupid Shuffle:

It's an amazing display in person. Why? Because white people think their way through songs like this...myself included. I wish I felt the courage to dance to this song, but I'm just going to watch a lot of youtube and learn how to do it until the next time it pops up and get my Cupid Shuffle on. There was this one white dude who was completely on fire for this song though...it was impressive. But damn it makes for more fun than pretty much every other activity on a dance floor this side of the "Have Nagila".

-Lastly, white people love Ice Sculptures. I've been to quite a few parties recently featuring ice bars, ice luges and ice sculptures. These are amazing. Last night there was a pretty impressive display. They had the Caduceus, the international sign of medicine...or at least I'm calling it the international sign of medicine. Fuck it, here's a picture of what I'm talking about. But it was rad. It was neon blue and lit up, enclosed in a block of ice, with the whole "GW Medicine" or something like that below it. Quite impressive literally.

But what was amazing was that from the moment that people were able to go up on stage and take a close look at it, there was never a line shorter than 10 people waiting to take pictures with the luge. A truly impressive display by my people, I'm proud to say. Seriously, people were constantly taking pictures in front of this thing for over 2 hours. I don't care that over 600 people were at this party; it doesn't take that long for all these people to take their photo in front of it. I saw people in front of that thing for close to 10 minutes and I saw people getting back in line for more photos.

So I had an overall good time at this party. I was constantly wishing I had the editor of Stuff White People Like on speed dial so I could put all these people on blast (always wanted to write or say that).

Lastly, concluding our 200th Spectacular, I'd like to leave you with this video:

Probably the most amazing Turk dance of all time...and how did that Bel Biv DeVoe song ever go out of style? We need to bring it back.

Help wanted

2008-05-15T12:06:00.002-05:00

I'm currently unemployed and it's awesome.

Well, it was awesome. I'm officially saying that Mario Kart Wii is pissing me the hell off. That fucking Wii wheel does not put me in a good mood.

I guess the game is actually kind of fun, well it's a lot of fun, but you get fun fucked all the time. You can be leading by half a lap and then a random green shell will get you, then this thing that puts ink all over the screen to obstruct your view comes up, then another shell hits and you and you end up in last place. This has happened to me multiple times. My favorite is going from 1st to 10th 10 feet from winning the circuit and unlocking new players and boards, only to be fun fucked into last and finishing the circuit with no trophy. And you need that trophy to feel good about yourself.

How do I feel? Fun fucked.

Tonight is kickball night in america. We play the team that we tied 0-0 in the championship game last fall. They don't have the same pitcher but they still have a decent one. We're going to fun fuck their shit up because this Mario Kart has got me all pissed off for no good reason. I think it's pretty funny actually.

No I don't. I hate being mad at Mario Kart.

So unemployment is pretty cool. I've been up since 6 am when I woke up for no reason, played some Wii, went laptop shopping for 2 hours (because when you don't have a job, you're supposed to buy things), came home and played more Wii, and now I'm sitting on the couch watching ESPN's "First Take", which is not good television.

Yep. Not having a job is pretty sweet.

Opening Ceremonies

2008-05-13T18:06:00.002-05:00

Opening Ceremonies began last night...but maybe you could tell that from the last post that I didn't even know I wrote until I logged in just now. Sweet.

So instead of calling my last few weeks in DC Closing Ceremonies, I decided that in the spirit of the Olympics, we could make a little thing out of this time.

Opening Ceremonies took place at Nathan's in Georgetown on half price wine night. Post wine consumption, there was liquor and beer consumption at the bar for about an hour before Opening Ceremonies came to a close with the extinguishing of the paper filled with, well you know.

The results of all of this was an interesting conversation between myself and Dr. Live. She asked the question, "Is Tina Fey hot?" My response was something of the following: 30 Rock makes fun of Tina Fey for being older and not being married or even having a steady relationship going, other than with Dennis, the psycho ex boyfriend/pedophile. Anyway, I took this to mean Tina Fey is in her late 30s or early 40s and therefore, you're pushing the limit if you're dating her. Why? Because if you bone Tina Fey, you are officially a cougar hunter and you're pretty much swearing off 25 year olds for the rest of your life and settling for the older ladies.

Let's analyze why this makes no sense:

-Yes, we're using the dashes again

-notice that the original question was never answered.

-I assume that TV is the same as real life

-Who said anything about dating her? Or boning her for that matter?

-Why can you not bone a 25 year old after boning a late 30s or early 40s chick?

-Who uses 25 as an age of chicks you can no longer bone? That, in and of itself is depressing because who sets the bar that low? I should have said 21 or something shady like that.

So we're off to a damn good start to the Departing DC Olympics.

Tomorrow we have our next event taking place at Rocket Bar in Chinatown. It's my last day of work and that's where all of us are getting together, so feel free one and all to come on by. You should be aware that if you show up at 5:30 or 6, like when I will most likely arrive, you will be surrounded by numerous people that I work with. It might be safer to show up a little later but it will be quite a social event, so come on by whenever.

You should also be aware that Rocket Bar does not serve food but they do allow you to bring in outside food.

Another event to plan on is the happy hour on the mall. The refreshment stands near the monuments sell Kings for like $3.25. The plan is to show up there and pound said Kings pretty much until the stand closes or they run out of beer. If they run out, we go onto another stand and repeat. This is an obscure thing to do, but we have to do it. We're allowed to drink outside there and it would be hilarious to get plastered right outside the refreshment stand and confuse every single person around there. Plus, the price isn't that bad when you consider what we'd be paying at actual bars. So keep Monday or Tuesday open on your calendars next week if you want to take part in this game.

2008-05-12T23:01:00.002-05:00

he swore by that glisten.

i don't know what i'm saying.

how did i get here?

we have to have a wake.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M SAYING.

please save arrested development. it's been 2 years since we lost it. bring it back.

oh yeah, whoomp there it is.

tag team back again, wreck get your flex it's back again, say whoomp party people let me make some noise say, "whoomp there it is"
HIT ME

"whoomp there it is" LOUDER,
"whoomp there it is. whoomp there it is"

Happy Anniversery!!!!

2008-05-11T22:04:00.004-05:00

No, not of the marriage or any of that. Happy one month since we've last sat and shared with each other. Below is a list of the thing that have kept us from spending some quality time together:

-wedding finalization/consummation...BONG

-Honeymoon - BONG again

-Work blocking the ability to login to the blog page

-Sheer laziness. If it makes you feel better, I've blogged almost as many times as I've run in the last month too.

SO, not much has happened to me in the past month except for the following:

-Mr. and Dr. Live are officially married. There was a ceremony, there was some dancing and there was some debauchery. Frisbee players out there will be happy to know the wedding frisbees will make their way around the world wide frisbee universe this summer. Feel free to pour lighter fluid on them and ignite them...we have extras.

-There was a honeymoon in which we discovered some things about ourselves, the world, etc (I'm apparently into using dashes, so I will dash inside of dashes):

-The American dollar is not worth very much in Venenzuela. It's a good thing we stayed at an all inclusive resort because everything was crazy expensive. For example, you know how sunscreen isn't cheap at CVS? Like, $15 a bottle when you really thought it would only be $5? Well, an eight ounce bottle where we were was roughly $25. It led me to this conclusion: I don't care who wins the democratic nominee. I don't care who wins the presidency. I care who will make the American dollar worth something so that when I go on vacation, I can spend wildly like people in other countries expect us to. As we spent time on the beach on our tropical vacation, we were approached about every 20 seconds by someone trying to sell us bracelets, massages, sunglasses, watches, oysters, all sorts of stuff. We were very pale, so that made us very popular. Anyway, it would have been great to back up that American reputation and spend spend spend, but it just wasn't worth the cost. SO, SO, SO, it's up to whoever gets elected to make this little situation we had to deal with go away. Fix the economy please...so maybe admit it's fucked first. Thanks. Political talk over.

-The German word for swimming pool is "Schwimmbad". It's fun to say. Schwimmbad. Germans are fun to laugh at and also really, really scary people. Well, mainly just around the water. Why? Because they all wear speedos, regardless of size, age or body type. Not just Germans to be honest, because there was a chunky French dude who wore one too and it was a nightmare because his crack was out literally for 2 straight hours. Why 2 straight hours? Well, we went on a snorkeling trip one day. You take a 45 minute boat ride on a small boat with 12 other people to get to the spot. We had to walk out to the boat in the water that was knee high at best. Of course, everyone had to get into their suits, so for all the euros, that meant taking off the shorts that make it to mid-thigh and exposing the schwimmbad suits that are nothing but balls and shaft...so bad that if you stare, first you see pubs sticking out around what's not covered and then you go blind.

Here's the scenario. We're on this small boat with 12 other euro folk. As previously mentioned, their all in their meat hangers. Dr. Live is sitting to my left, so as I turn to look at her, I see this 6'4 German dude with one leg up on a bench on the boat with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. All there for the eyes to take it. So I turn and try to look straight ahead only to find what can only be described as Billy Idol in his schwimmbad suit sitting directly across from me. I'm serious. This guy was as tan as a white man can get, thus making him orange, wore 1980s raybans, had blond hair in a not so jewfro and my head almost exploded. It was my own personal hell.

-Yours truly has only 3 days of work left, meaning this wednesday is my last. We're all very excited to have this happen as I will have almost exactly one month off before....

-I sort of have a new job. I was accepted to NYC Teaching Fellows to teach Special Education. Why is it sort of? Well, this program will train me for 2 months, resulting in me acquiring my transitional B certificate to teach in the NYC public school system with a masters. The program also puts me in a master's program, so I will also be working towards a master's degree. Pretty sweet...almost entirely paid for too. So here are the catches:

-First off, I need to pass two qualification tests to show I'm knowledgeable to teach these kids. This makes me a little nervous because I don't remember math all that well and it's on the test. I need some serious cram sessions before I take these at the end of the month, but I should be OK. I got a couple of study guides and a hot tutor who does me because it's in the law, so I should pass.

-Secondly, I will need to find my own teaching position. They guide me and train me and what not, but I need to find vacancies, interview, do teaching samples and all that other fun stuff. The way the program works is they assign me a borough to work in. Before I can look for a position, they need to tell me where to look. Once that happens, I'll likely be in training, but they tell you not to interview during training...sweet. So that leaves two month in August before the school year starts to get my job. Slightly nerve wrecking, but I should be OK...seems like I'm saying that a lot recently.

-Which leaves us to the final update: QP Live the kickball team is currently ranked #8 in the country. AWESOME. But we lost on Thursday night. NOT AWESOME. We can't be too upset about it because we lost to the #3 team in the country, so we got that going for us. I hadn't pitched since the end of last season and was pretty rusty. In traditional unclutchness that I am famous for, the inning after we tied up the game, I walked in what proved to be the winning run. Nicely done. What's really sweet is that it's 4 days later and I can almost use my arm again. But what's really sweet is that I can say, "Man, my lats are killing me" and it's actually true. Probably the best part of kickball.

So that's me. I'm sure I'll be on this piece updating with possible going away party information or any of that fun stuff. For now, all I know is that I am going our drinking with some work people on Wednesday night somewhere, so maybe I'll throw some information about that up here and maybe you can come and I will be there and together we can discuss all things schwimmbad.

And here's a picture of a lizard at our resort. You need to turn your head as it is sideways.

Did you miss me?

2008-04-12T14:41:00.002-05:00

It's been a little bit and I figured it's time to give a grand ole life update. That sounds pretty boring but that's about what's going on right now.

So I live in DC again. The case I've worked the last 2.5 years on settled and now all we have to do is pack up all the files and send them to storage. We finished this last week and now I get to sit around and work on new cases for my last two weeks at my job....actually it's more like 4 weeks, but today is the...

1 week to go until I get married, i.e. one last chance to do all those things a single man whose been dating his lady for 7 years can do instead of what a married man can do. You know, like date random chicks, get in bar fights, stay up shooting heroin all night and having illegitimate children with any women or hermaphrodite I want. because she wouldn't get mad at me if we were just dating if i did any of that, right? right. that's exactly my point.

anywho, i realized today that this weekend is pretty much the start of my new life. why? because it was a saturday in the spring and i have no responsibilities. no frisbee practice, no work to go to or potentially go to, nothing like that at all. the wedding plans are pretty much set and the only place i have to be this weekend is a party. pretty damn easy. i slept until 12:30 today. i was asleep around midnight. the last time i slept that long was no doubt sophomore year in college when i spent the entire night at nation playing with glow sticks and double stacks. and i went to bed sober last night.

it amazes me because for the last 2.5 years all i've done is worry about having to go to work or be ready to be called into work. all that is gone now. now i can just sit in front of the 42" of plasma fury in my living room and watch the yankees game. i went for a run, i played with the feminine yoga ball i have and now i write to all of you.

yep, i got one of those yoga balls. you know a device is not intended for you when all of the advertisements and displays have women using the device. it makes me laugh. when i see the displays in stores i tend to try and duck behind objects until i realize that the people in the store don't know i have a giant yoga ball sitting next to my tv. but the ball works. i continue to use it because i think i get more out of it than i do doing regular sit ups and what not. no homo.

but this is pretty much all i got for ya. one week to go until i get married. two pump chuck shotaholler to say we should do something since i'm only single for 1 more week so if anyone wants to get in some trouble this week, let me know.

Opening Day

2008-03-30T20:25:00.002-05:00

Tonight is Opening Night of the baseball season!!!! The games in Japan last week technically were the first of the season, but who gets up to watch baseball at 6:30 in the morning besides the fans of the teams playing? Actually, the answer is pretty simple: since there are no A's fans that would wake up at 3:30 am to watch, Red Sox fans. That's who. I can only hope that all of the players get whatever virus all the Yankees players got when they came back from Japan 4 years ago. Oh wait, that was the combination of sushi and steroids that did them in, so I guess the Red Sox players are likely in the clear...no pun intended.

Anyway, tonight is the first game at Nationals Park, which is A) a good name for a stadium, particularly because it's not named after some corporation and B) pretty cool, since there was all this drama three years ago about building the stadium, will the team stay in DC, yada yada yada. All is good.

But I have to ask, for those of you that were at the game or those of you who watched or will see the highlights, but did you boo when President Bush was brought out to throw the first pitch? It's a tradition for the standing President to throw out the first pitch at the first home game of the season in DC. Tonight marked the 48th time the President did it. I wonder if any others had been booed before.

Now, I'm not a republican, but not really a democrat. I don't agree with all that's happened in the past 8 years and there is no way I currently know enough about politics to be able to tell you one way or another if Bush really is the devil that all the hippies cry him out to be. Even if I had strong opinions one way or another, I probably wouldn't boo the President if he is throwing out the first pitch. Why?

First, I find it embarrassing. Not just for DC but for the country. If the President was invited to throw the first pitch at other stadiums around the country, I bet the fans would consider it an honor. Perhaps DC area folk don't understand the privilege that it is to have the leader of your country ceremoniously begin the game. I find it embarrassing for our country because it shows a lack of respect for our leaders. Yes, it's been the running joke to laugh at Bush for his general public speaking issues or to find the urge to put "Impeach Bush" stickers on your cars and all, but still, I would not boo.

But maybe that's the beauty of the whole free country thing. We don't get hanged for expressing our opinions, which is a good thing. I just think it's an honor to have someone like the President, no matter his approval rating, participating in a long standing tradition that was lost for years when there was no DC team. I would respect this tradition enough to applaud it and forget [my] opinions on the figurehead continuing it.

how about that

2008-03-25T09:04:00.002-05:00

i go from the picture in the below post to this youtube video...it's somber, but touching none the less:

Walter Schneller was my neighbor growing up and one of my best friends in that time was his son. Growing up on the campus of the school pretty much made all faculty children friends, even though I was younger by 4 years to the majority of the other kids.

Not much else to say but I think it's a touching salute that Keith Olbermann will devote time in his show to someone he met over 30 years previous. It's nice to see those kinds of feelings and emotions for someone you knew at such an early part of your life. I'm 27 years old and have lost touch with numerous acquaintances, teachers and friends over the short 9 years it's been since high school ended. I'm not alone in this either, as anyone reading this undoubtedly has done the same.

I watched this on Countdown last night and thought it was nice, until the final 20 seconds when the camera came back on Olbermann and he had his touching comments on the way Mr. Schneller affects his life to this day. My favorite part was the final word, "Goodbye". No rest in peace. Something about the finality of the goodbye touched me more than the rest of the 1.5 minute farewell.

just because it's funny

2008-03-23T11:57:00.001-05:00

yep.

Outtie 5000

2008-03-20T15:45:00.002-05:00

Today is the day where all 4th year med students around the country find out which residency programs they get accepted to. Today is the day where the doctor finds out where she gets to play doctor...no, she hasn't been playing "doctor" with any of you so don't even make that lame joke (NOTE: I had written the above alluded to joke and decided it was way too lame to throw in so don't go plagiarizing my non written words...bitch).

There is this ceremony where you show up at 11:30 am and all these future doctors are drinking champagne. Each student has ranked a bunch of schools and none know which one their going to end up at until they open the envelope. Some people rank a bunch of schools and get ones low on their list. Some only rank a few (for the more competitive programs) and don't always get any of their choices due to the competition. It's all based on where the program you interviewed at ranks you compared to where you rank them.

Well, those of you that know her know she is a talented person, even for a woman. PSYCH. women are people too even if they have smaller brains than men...guess that makes me a chick? i thought those were just extra pound boobies not estrogen boobies.

What the hell just happened? ANYWAY, the doctor found out today that she got accepted at her #1 choice, being St. Luke's hospital in Manhattan. The Live family is moving to NYC!

Oh that's awesome, right? Well, yes and no. It's exciting because we're off to a new place where we will have to make new friends and we'll be married so we're completely moving into the unknown. We'll have to do things like go out with other couples and engage in swingers parties.

It's terrifying because I will have to get a new job. The word "complacency" comes to mind when I think of my current job. I've been there 3.5 years and miserable for 2.0 of them yet I am still there. So going out and finding a new one, something I didn't do in a city that I know pretty well, is kind of intimidating...but there's no holding back now. I have to find and job and I don't want to be a paralegal, so that pretty much means I'm starting over...or pretty much means I can do anything...or pretty much means I have no idea what I am going to end up doing but I should look forward to this, I guess.

But it's sad. We've been in DC since 1999 as freshman at GW. In that time, we've grown up, because new people and then changed that person and then changed again and again...and we've done that with a lot of the people who read this right here. So it's sad to be moving away from all of you who have had a major part in shaping who we are as people. For example, I'm an angry man who plays kickball. WOW, you guys fucked up big time. JUST KIDDING JUST KIDDING. I kid because I love. And I love kids. Especially little ones. KIDDING, AGAIN JUST KIDDING. Half kidding.

Anywho, the time has come for QP Live and the doctor to move their asses up out of town. If I'm certain of anything it's that I'm uncertain about all of this. And I'm certain I'm not the first person to say that.

But, for now, I have things like quitting my job, getting married and finishing up a trial to do. Which is rad.

But to you all DC mofukas, peace out...don't fret though because I'm told I'll be back in 3 years. But I'll likely be very, very, big pun fat by then with all the pizza, chicken cutlet and italian combos. AWESOME!

UPDATE:

2008-03-19T11:52:00.002-05:00

South Carolina....still not awesome.

2.5 weeks later and there is still officially nothing to do in the not great state of SC. There is really nothing to do besides work, because when you're not working, there is nothing else to do.

However, all that changes today because I get to go home on a 6 pm flight. Now, one week ago I was going home right up until this exact time right now only to be told I would in fact be staying here to work on everyone else's work...that's not totally true. I was staying because the lead paralegal in charge has a task a retarded monkey could do but nonetheless has assigned that task to herself, meaning she "doesn't have time for her other responsibilities." Cool, my work load just tripled. true story.

But this time I actually get to go home and for like 4 days. No court between tomorrow and Tuesday, meaning in what attorneys have called the slowest trial ever, there are cool things like 4 days off for no good reason. I understand the Easter holiday might give some reason to having Thursday and Friday off and maybe even throw in Monday as a travel day, but what the deuce on Tuesday? People have to get back in town to take care of wedding stuff, damn, it's like this stranger isn't even taking into account all this stuff I have to accomplish in EXACTLY ONE MONTH.

That is today, March 19. One month from the day where I Do's are uttered, my drunk friends, aka you bastards, make inappropriate comments to mine and the doctor's families including drunk awkward conversation that in your mind could lead to something romantic with one of our family members only in their mind will lead to their military relatives drowning you in the Baltimore Harbor. But no, keep taking, I'm sure it will work out for you.

And a pleasant request, April 19 is not your day to exact revenge for all of the inappropriate comments or actions I've thrown your way in the past. Be a mature adult and wait until my funeral for that shit. And it's not like the funeral can really be that far off. I eat steak at every meal (it's what did Curly in) (well, that was bacon but they're close anyway), we drink roughly every night, we drive intentionally like assholes down here (though that's mostly a co worker of mine trying to freak me out) and, AND AND, I jaywalk at least once a day.

I'd love to fill you in on all the rad times we've had here. There was this one night, we were at a bar, we had like 3 beers and dinner. Man, that was a good time. OH, I totally forgot! The fire alarm went off at my hotel. There was no fire but the alarm did go off.

Seriously though, the best thing that happened to me since I've been down here is Hulu. Free movies and TV. can't complain about that. Well, I guess I can complain about this:

I watched "The Skulls" which has Charlie from the Mighty Ducks. I think some of you know him for Dawson's Creek as the kid who bones the teacher, but he's Captain Duck to me. Anyway, The Skulls are a secret society at Yale and it's got all the guys you hate playing miserable roles and doing really bad acting. At no point are any characters explained or does anything make sense in this whole thing but it was a decent watch for someone who has spent hour after hour in front of a computer for the last 2.5 weeks. The movie ends in the greatest way possible: absolutely no closure. On the unintentional comedy scale, it only ranks behind "Twister" as funniest serious line every.

In "Twister", as Bill Paxton and the Helen Hunt are driving down the highway chasing a tornedo, Helen Hunt goes "Oh no" and Bill Paxton goes, "Yeah, horizontal rain" as if that was supposed to be like this huge development and the audience was supposed to do a collective gasp. I burst out laughing and to this day will see that movie is on TBS, turn to is and try to catch that part. If I can't, or if I see any mention to this movie and am around other people, I will always let them know about the horizontal rain line. Movies just need inspirational lines like this for people like me to watch over and over again.

But in "The Skulls", Charlie has always wanted to be a Skull and then all this drama happens and in the end he's like "I don't want to be a Skull". The Skull who pretty much saved his life is all, "I'm going to call on you to pay back this favor, always a Skull blah blah blah" and Charlie's like "I owe you nothing, eff the Skulls" and then the older Skull is like "Can you live knowing that I still might come calling" and Charlie's like "Yeah, I can live with that." Unintentionally funny right? WRONG. The next line, as Charlie is walking off, the older Skull, to no one, just out loud drops the line "Good work son. Good work." HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Unintentionally HI-FREAKING-LARIOUS. The only thing funnier than that line was the close up on his face as he said it.

That's my report. Hope it made you hungry.

Edit to previous post

2008-03-07T12:49:00.003-05:00

There is hope!!!! Thanks to whatever commentor is out there and said that the finale of The Wire is not in fact available on demand this week. As I don't have on demand in Dixie, I was unaware of this and now am extremely relieved and excited to miss the finale on Sunday, since I will be back down here and unlikely to see it due to work...but maybe I'll catch the replay.

otis, was that you? Nice work OTIS!

The South shall rise again

2008-03-07T10:39:00.004-05:00

i'm down in columbia south carolina. on one street corner, there were two large BBQ places right next to each other. When I say large, I mean LARGE. And one of them had a giant pig standing up out front holding up a giant sign. Granted, this was not a live pig, but it got the point across that it was a bbq place...and I could smell the bbq from a block away.

a block away from the office we are working in, a confederate flag is hung atop a flag pole in front of the state house. granted, this is not on top of the building itself, but i'm not in the union anymore.

I'm in a different place than I'm used to and everything here has either the word "fried" or "steak" in it. It's amazing. It's not the ideal place to be when you are trying to get fit right before a wedding but what can you do.

In case you don't know what I reside presently in SC, I'm at trial with the case I've been working on for the last 2 years. All things considered, I'd prefer to be down here at this stage. Why? Well,

1. After 2 years, actually being at trial means this case will go away soon and I might have a life that involves weekends and not having to say to people when trying to make plans "So long as I don't get called into work."

2. Working down here has been a lot more relaxing that working in DC...probably because I don't have to wear a tie, have more streamlined work to do and projects don't just get dropped on me out of nowhere.

3. We're working in a conference room that has 5 of us in it and 2 TVs that we watch CNN during the day and sitcoms and Law & Order at night. All bitch work like copying gets outsourced to a copying company on the 2nd floor. We're on the 17th floor and have a view of downtown Columbia. Not the greatest city to have a view of, but there are no 17 floor building in DC, so it's fun. Plus they have these rad counters that have refrigerated drawers so we have plenty of cold bottled water.

4. Everything I do is paid for. All meals are expensed, dry cleaning and laundry are charged to the room and I don't pay that, drinks are usually with people who make a lot more than me, so I don't pay it and we go out to really nice restaurants.

But all of this honeymoon ends Sunday when we gear up to actually go to trial. It starts Monday and will be a total shit show very soon. I'll be here anywhere for 1 to 4 more weeks...until the wedding.

So that's what I've been getting myself into. I decided while I'm down here that one day I'm going to decorate my house with the items that I think i see out of the corner of my eye. You know, the things that make you do a double take. Like when you think you see an alligator crawling out of a plant and do a double take but it turns out it's own overgrown leaves? Yeah, that kind of thing. I'm going to build half an alligator and have that bitch be crawling out of a plant. People will come over and say "Oh, i thought that was just the leaves but it turns out it's an alligator climbing out of a plant" and then I'll say "yeah. sweet, right?" Then the person will likely leave and not allow his or her children to associate with my children.

But that's been happening a lot to me lately. I think I'm seeing things that seem highly illogical and do a double take only to realize that it was not in fact what I thought I saw. Maybe I'm just tired or my eyes have gone to shit because of all the staring at computers I do. Or maybe those things are actually there when I first see them but some matrix shit makes it turn back to what the blue pill tells me it should be.

The Wire's final episode airs on HBO Sunday night. I was watching some clips on youtube yesterday and trying to be careful not to watch anything from the final episode until some asshole posted a comment that gives away something in the finale. I was pretty angry...actually, not so much angry as I was really upset that this was brought to light. It's a show I really like, so finding out about anything in it before it happens really takes away from the enjoyment. I started watching the show a year ago and made a point to only watch from the beginning. I had watched 2 episodes of season 4 before I decided to watch the entire series and I knew something that took away from the finale of that season...I was really looking forward to this not happening again, but now it has and it sucks.

HBO started putting the new episodes out on demand the Monday after the latest episode would air on Sunday, meaning each new episode is available 1 week in advance. I had made it this far without having anything spoiled until this piece of shit on youtube. So now I think i know what happens, but I hope it happens early so it doesn't take away from the full episode.

As a disclaimer, there are people who read this who are currently only on seasons 3 or 4, so please don't post any comments about what might have happened or what happened, etc. Don't ruin it for them please.

well, i had this time to shotaholler to all of you. Sorry if this lacked the traditional shock value of stupidity, but I just needed to kill some time and thought i should help people get through their friday

The video that didn't work in the last post...

2008-02-26T23:31:00.005-05:00

After this much anticipation and after how little happens in this video, you're going to be disappointed...clemend

Getting aged on the sideline

2008-02-24T21:20:00.007-05:00

I woke up in Marshall's today. The store, not the bar...though it would make more sense if I woke up in a bar because who wakes up in a department store?

I found myself feeling, or at least recognizing what the feeling was, when I was in college in Chocolate City only this time I was doing the whole reflecting thing. Generally, I think I might be getting aged. Not old, but aged.

It was a strange feeling walking in and around Marshalls. I'm heading down to beautiful Columbia, SC next week for anywhere from a week to over a month. It's going to pretty awesome and by awesome I mean not awesome. Anyway, so I need to get some "business casual" clothes, which I don't own. I own business professional clothes, like clothes you wear with suits, only I don't wear the jacket. So when I get told I can dress business casual, I first think what that is and realize I don't own any business casual clothes...which makes me feel aged.

My first office mate told me all he owned were jeans and work clothes. I remember saying I would never pull that off, but today I said the same thing to a co-worker that my first office mate said to me. So I'm in Marshall's because I need to get some less dress like clothes for Columbia and I don't want to spend all that much money on a few shirts and pairs of pants. It reminded me of my first few months at work when I needed clothes but didn't have the money to get the nice stuff on my own and Christmas was too far away to wait for Santa to drop new stuff on me. So to Marshalls I would go. Three and a half years. Aged.

So I'm walking through Marshalls and I'm not even all that interested in anything. It took me a few minutes to ever get comfortable in the store. I started to feel like I was supposed to be past Marshalls when I realized what it's like be someone in my position...27 years old, with a paying job, no kids, no wife (yet) and no debt. Then I started to feel like an asshole for thinking I should be past this stage. I looked around and saw a lot of people in different stages of their lives. Teenagers, mothers, immigrants and just people who were like me. I started having one of those flash forwards where this was going to be more like the near future than the not so distant past. Aged.

I even felt more aged because the shit that would have pissed me off going on in the store or the frustrations that would have got the best of me I was laughing at or knowing exactly how to play off. I was even to maneuver all necessary employees in whatever way I needed without causing anyone any agitation or conflict. I watched as other suffered through issues I once experienced. I then sent a message to a friend of mine that I might have outgrown myself. After all, I woke up today and started thinking about what one of my co workers should be doing instead of what we currently do. I thought that was pretty smart of me and all since I'm still 26 yardsale on the fuck I'm doing. Makes no sense to me either.

Basically, what I have going is that transition is in the near future, like less than 30 days, and I nostalgic feelings ride with that. However, I feel like I'm too young to be dealing with that. It's to the point where I'm looking forward to watching "Quarterlife" on NBC starting this Tuesday at 10 pm. They don't pay me to advertise for them but here I go doing it again. First Prison Break, now quarterlife?

OK, I guess I owe you a little bit of the bachelor party after this one: I made previous mention to testube shots that were mostly sugar. What you don't know is that there are about 20 shots on each tray. What is also unknown and was unknown to me until later, is that the tray costs approximately $200. What you ought to know is that in less than 5 minutes, I was force fed roughly 20 testube shots...two at a time. Most of this was thanks to my friend in the background yelling at the shot girl, "ONE MORE!! ONE MORE!!" I would try to walk away casually, only to be spun around by shot girl as she would force deuce more down.

I woke up the next day with basically no memory of this night. What I remembered, thanks to my video camera, was that before we went I was already torn up and was hiding in an armoire. That video is slightly hilarious. Enjoy:

WAIT. Are those Starbury's prominently featured in seconds 6-11?!?!?!?!? Available now at Steve and Barry's.

Recap time

2008-02-22T13:47:00.000-05:00

off into the sunset he goes. right about now, you're probably thinking, hey, he's writing again, he's probably going to fill us in on his bachelor party. nope. really, there isn't much one can say. mans code is to not discuss what events transpired at a bachelor party so as a man, and despite what may have previously been written about sharing about the bachelor party, man will not write about it.

so what on earth could he possibly be writing about?

kickball is back soon....but that's not what we're here for......

PRISON BREAK SEASON 3 RECAP TIME....awesome...or not?

Prison Break has finally ended it's third season and guess what?!?!? they get out of jail. NO WAY. Yes way Ted.

The season ends with the exchange of Whistler for LJ Burrows and Whistler's gash, who no longer loves him. She now craves the bone of former death row inmate turned Panamanian refugee Lincoln Burrows. However, at the end of the season, we appear to be heading into a brand new twist that is sure to officially get Prison Break cancelled, if it even comes back at all.

But let's back up.

The season, all 5 episodes, starts with Scofield still in Sona trying to break out this mysterious Whistler guy, who is revealed more and more as likely a Company guy as the season progresses. The inmates are having their issues with Patron taking Scofield under his wing and many of Patron's people are pissed about it...to the point where they overtake him and claim control of the prison. Keep in mind, I have very little time to write this and the details are very minute anyway. It's a show called Prison Break, so let's get right to the breakout.

Come break out time, the list has swollen to Patron (leader of Sona and former drug lord/mass murderer), T-Bone (inmate with Scofield in season 1), Bellick (guard in season 1), Mahone (FBI agent in season 2), Whistler (Company slut), Luis (teenager in Sona for unidentified reason) and Scofield.

Since T-Bone and Patron are the only true criminals in the gang, they assume Scofield will screw them over, so they get to be the first ones out of the hole they dug in the ground...So they un-covered some old tunnels between in the prison grounds and dug up from down there. Their escape would put them in the middle of the yard. Scofield has Sucre helping him on the outside so the gate can be broken through easily. What Patron and T-Bone don't know is that the lights will not be out for 30 seconds like Scofield said...only 10 or 15. So when Linc takes out the lights, Patron, T-Bone and Bellick make a run for it. Patron gets shot and T-Bone and Bellick stop running.

Now the escape happens. As the guards run into the yard to recover the 3 escapees, Scofield, Luis, Whistler and Mahone come out of the ground in plain sight. All of the guards are distracted and they take off.

The plan is to get to the water, swim out to a buoy and Sucre will pick them up in a boat...only Sucre is being detained because the alias he used has a warrant out for it on unpaid child support...they have that in Panama too, what a world. So, Luis' father, figuring something is wrong when they haven't met him at the boat, determines the boat is supposed to be used and shows up out of nowhere and picks up everyone.

So now, all they have to do is escape the Company. The Company is trying to get Whistler back on their terms, ie kill everyone, but the brothers have a plan at a Warehouse. Slowing things down is Whistler who apparently sprained his ankle before swimming to safety. Only now he makes a break for it. As the Company arrives at the Warehouse, no one else is there because the brothers went after Whistler. Mahone says good bye before they run because there is no loyalty there.

Eventually, the brothers catch back up to Whistler and the new exchange point is a museum. All the players are there. The chick, LJ, the badass Company lady who is not to be effed with, Whistler, Linc and Scofield. Gunmen are on every entrance to the hotel, so as soon as the brothers walk out, they're dead. The reason Scofield picked this museum is that there are no metal detectors, so the badass chick can't walk in with a gun.

Exchanges go as planned and then the badass chick gets cocky. Before that, Whistler's girl pulls the I hate you routine and goes back in the group of the brothers and LJ. At this point, Scofield breaks a glass box holding something in the museum and an alarm goes off. Everyone is searched on the way out and Whistler is detained because Scofield put something from the gift shop in his pocket. As the police are holding Whistler, badass chick intervenes but no one pays any attention to her. Then one of her cronies goes to shoot one of the brothers when a guard tackles him. The shot misses everyone...or does it.

The shot hits Linc's new chick in the side and he plays the role of concerned idiot because he just broke someone out of a jail and is sticking around where shots have been fired. While this is going on, Scofield goes to his car, gets his gun and aims it at the badass chick. Before he can pull the trigger, the Panamanian police, who are doing an excellent job of getting made fun of by American television by the way, starts shooting and missing terribly at her and her van. They hop in and take off.

The brothers too flee the scene, but LJ sticks around with the shot girl. Eventually, Linc goes to the hospital where she says Whistler has something under his bed that might help tell who he is. The brothers go and retrieve it and that's where they say good-bye. It'd be simple. They are free, the police have no idea where they are and they can finally disappear. NOPE. Now Scofield is after the badass chick who beheaded his love, Sarah Tancredy.

Whilst this is going on, Mahone has been sitting in a bar staring at a bank. One might suspect he is going to rob it, but at the end of the episode, Whistler shows up and they have this "you sure you're in cause it's 100%" "yeah i'm in" talk and off they go with the badass chick.

Then the cut is to Scofield, who is driving down the road with the gun on the passenger seat on his way to Arizona or something because there was some info in the case.

There is some odd music playing the whole time and it flashes through everyone walking/driving/in their new place in the world. Sucre was discovered to be helping Scofield and is thrown in Sona. T-Bone suffocated (oops, probably should have told you this but) Patron in his room to take control over Sona....he was going to die anyway, by T-Bone did this and then started throwing money to the crowd declaring everyone is an equal...which should probably end poorly in the end. Bellick looks terrified and he should.

Linc is with the chick and LJ at the hospital and Luis has escaped to safety in Columbia.

The show had the air of possibly being done with and now that characters are behaving unlike they have in the 3 seasons previous, I would say the show is probably done....not that I'll stop watching.

Hurricanes and Hand Grenades

2008-02-18T18:29:00.002-05:00

I don't really bet that much. I also don't understand betting odds all that great, which was something reinforced by these statements in the pre-bachelor party post:

Odds of getting arrested? High.
Odds of seeing numerous celebrities? High.
Odds of getting jealous of one of the NBA players for taking attention away and then making the smartest decision of my life to infiltrate the players entourage and then bitch slap that player, run away and live? Low. I'm not that stupid.

No one got arrested and for all purposes, one person should have in the first hour I was there. It turns out New Orleans is the most relaxed city ever.

I saw a celebrity (Allen Houston) and I got some film of him not closing the deal.

I wanted little to no of the attention at all times because the more attention caused, the more alcohol would be forced down my throat.

4 nights in the French Quarter was quit enough. 3 nights on Bourbon Street, with a balcony that looks right over the street in the heart of the action is plenty to take in over 3 nights. Each morning was a constant reminder that we were to be back on the balcony soon only to then to play the street until 5 am. The earliest night I got to bed was the one where I blacked out, in part due to Sparks. That was around 4 or 5. The other sleep times were 6:30, 7 and 6. Yikes. Sleeping never made it past noon.

I'm sitting in the airport about to board my flight and there really isn't enough time to write anything too substantial. Basically, New Orleans is just different than anything I've experienced in this country. As I've gone to other countries and hung out/went out, I just figured the lack of interaction with others while out and about was just a language barrier. In NOLA, people just mind their own business. It's not like people were sober or well behaved, just people tended to just let you be...that is, unless you were a fine nubian princess....then you were harrassed by more dudes that you knew even walked the earth. Seriously, dudes would just walk up to these women and grab their arm or whistle at them or do the double take with the "DAMN" thrown in. I decided that this was no town for a woman of the quality of the doctor or anyone we know that has a soul. But I never really felt the fear I thought I had going in. I never felt threatended or like we were in a place we really shouldn't.

I did have the shakes a lot though, but that was due to the amount of sugar in the majority of the drinks we had such as:

Hurricanes
Hand Grenades
Testube Shots that were primarily sugar
Jesters
Sparks
Red Bull

The last one really does give you wings by the way.

Other than that, I have a bunch of video that I'll try to get postable and there were all sorts of other hijinxs that occurred but can't be shared. Rules of the bachelor party state that nothing is to be disclosed. It's my party so I'll break the rules if I want to...like that we were courtside for a few minutes at the All-Star game...or that we got free passes to walk all around the arena during the game.

Pretty crazy weekend all around. As far as injuries go, besides serious stomach trauma, I woke up one day without the ability to use my right arm. That got a little better but I still can't do things like open doors without pain. I also have a bruised rib but I think that's more of a swollen liver induced pain. All digits are accounted for.

Bachelor Party Send Off

2008-02-14T14:23:00.001-05:00

It's this thing that's just around the corner that constantly nags at you until it's finally here. For me, that's my bachelor party, which starts in less than 12 hours. I'm still in DC waiting to go to the airport to catch my 9:50 flight to New Orleans. Most of the players are already there. 4 of them drove from New York, leaving Wednesday around 3 and arriving in NO at 1 on Thursday. 3 from Jersey flew and arrived at 1:45. Another will come in tomorrow night and the last will arrive Saturday afternoon. Did I mention that this is also NBA All-Star Weekend in NO?

Odds of getting arrested? High.
Odds of seeing numerous celebrities? High.
Odds of getting jealous of one of the NBA players for taking attention away and then making the smartest decision of my life to infiltrate the players entourage and then bitch slap that player, run away and live? Low. I'm not that stupid.

I do not feel very safe heading into this weekend. I'm not so much worried about the whole stigma that I'm going to get shot because it's All-Star weekend. I'm more afraid I'm going to get shot because I'll spend 85% of this weekend blacked out and therefore get shot for not even know why. I think that's much more likely.

What I found really surprising is that I've told a lot of people that I'm going to New Orleans for my bachelor party and they say the usual comments. When I tell them that it's also All-Star weekend, 8 out of 10 people say I'm going to get shot. This has probably been the most racist thing that I have come around in a while...and it's odd because so many people just up and say it like it doesn't mean anything. If I were to say in response to that comment, "why?" I bet each person would definitely squirm a little bit in their seat.

So, as we move further into the unknown which lies before me, it's safe to say I'm terrified. The unknown is what terrifies me the most. I've been to NO once. I was 15 years old and my cousin, who lives there, told me that when I go to NO, watch out because people don't play around there. You can get shot just for looking at someone. I was 15. This was my 35 year old cousin scaring me for life.

I'm also slightly afraid for other reasons:

1. My friends, or at least some of them, are idiots. If you've been to one of my birthday blowouts, you see that they get me black out drunk in under a hour and then push me into people as we walk down the street. Two years ago, I feel into people eating jumbo slice...like right into their laps.

2. I have a wedding in two months in which I need to have no showing bruises, no scars that don't currently exist, I must have all digits and extremities and I must be able to walk. Those are the requirements. With this requirement, I think a scale is in order.

There is no way all of my people walk away from this arrest free (though there's already been 1 run in with the police and the thing hasn't even started yet...some sort of record I'm sure), warrant free, and injury free. I've decided that with the combination of bachelor party mentality, All-Star weekend, the reckless abandon on which cash will be thrown around this weekend and the overall presence of alligators, the following are the acceptable levels of each:

Arrests have to be limited to misdemeanors of which the offending party in jail has one of those sleep it off type arrests. In fact, these are encouraged because they will be hilarious. Nothing will be more fun than walking into a police station at 10 am hammered with 9 other people to bail your friend out.

Warrants have to be local warrants. No one wants a federal warrant or anything that can come back and haunt you. I know absolutely nothing about these, so in case I'm way off, rest assured I'm making all of this up for filler.

Injuries. Injuries have their own scale.

Say I get shot. If I get shot in the foot and can't walk for three months, then this presents a major problem. Not only would I be shot, but I would have failed a major requirement for the wedding. HOWEVER, if I get shot and can recover in time to walk at the wedding, then I think we chalk it up to high comedy. Sure, it would suck to get shot, but try beating that bachelor party. Essentially, I could start the trend that if you don't get shot on your bachelor party, it's not worth it. So there are two sides to getting shot. The extreme side would be bad, but the minor side would just be good stories for the grandkids.

Say I lose part of my body to an alligator. FYI, though nothing is confirmed, this is actually a possibility. So say for some random reason it's me vs.. a gator. First of all, no matter how small the gator, the teeth will still eff you up. Ask my sister. She has three in her office closet. I'm not actually lying. She'll confirm this for you in a response I hope...and maybe a picture too? ANYWAY, me vs.. the gator. Let's call it earl. QP Live and his 20 digits and 2 ears vs.. Earl. If I don't walk away with 20 digits and 2 ears, then I have failed failed failed to qualify for the wedding. This would be worse than getting shot. Ultimately, I think it more important to have all digits and ears than to be able to walk at the wedding. So for this reason, I'm going to be trying to avoid any and all damage from a gator vs.. trying not to get shot in NO. I think that's the safest way to play this.

So that's where I'm boost mobile right now. I'll have a video camera with me, I'll have a cell phone with me and I'll a tremendous amount of liquid courage in me.

Pray for me, as I will surely think of you as I sit in a holding cell.

WE DID IT

2008-02-03T22:40:00.000-05:00

WE DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In the past 30 minutes, being the time difference between when the Giants won and right now, I've texted, called and yelled "WE DID ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT" at loud volumes numerous times. Most responses have been congratulations and a couple have been, "I didn't know you played for the Giants." Those people would be correct...but I did pray for the Giants...and the fuller my beer was, the better the Giants D played. So thinking like that should probably make me less of an alcoholic, right? Fuck. I think I'm slipping further into the anti-fun, you're a big pussy disease.

YEAH! That sounds like fun. Can't wait to be the sober guy at the wedding loving desert, NOT beating my wife and showing up on time to everything with a straight lace tie. Fag.

Anyway:

WE DID IT!

The Giants won the Super Bowl and I have a few thoughts:

1. WE DID IT

2. It feels great to have your team win a Championship. It doesn't happen all that often (in the NFL you have a 1 in 32 chance every year) and even though I'd love for the Giants and Yankees to win every year (if the Knicks or any DC team won I'd love the happiness of the DC to roll with it too), you just can't rely on that shit. It just doesn't happen all that much.

3. Man, I'm happy about the whole NY over Boston thing. But more than that, I'd like to take this opportunity to shot out 3 people:

3.a - Top Top Topashelf - Sent me a text after the game saying, "Great D." As Pats fan, it can't be easy to send that message, but it takes pride to send that message, all the same. Thanks for manning up...no pun intended...YES, I didn't realize that pun yet but AWESOME

3.b - My man Otis - Otis is a Buffalo born kid who is a Bills fan, but has grown up in the Boston area and roots strong for the douche bag Red Sox. Can't hate the man for that because he is a true fan, but I love him for the fact he is a Bills fan and will only root for the Pats because it makes the city (or I guess I should say region) happy. But the man texts me after the RIDICULOUS Tyree catch about how amazing it was and then follows up with a congratulatory calls. My man Otis, shotahollerdawg.

3.c - FAUST - The kid brought up Regionals '03. He sent me a text before the game predicting the Pats would win 38-17. I responded saying thanks for picking the Giants to win in the upset. Eventually, I commented on Bellicek's new red sweatshirt (read SWEATY in a shitty Masshole accent)and that he probably picked it out by filming another team and realizing how good it looked, and he responded by saying, "way to force that in, just like regionals 03." What a dick. That was cold Faust. We all know that I dicked it...or Whoops as I like to say...but that's still cold. Crossing a line like that is pretty fucked up...especially since I A) Didn't mean to do it and B) didn't fucking mean to do it. But it's out there and it's history so I should expect that to keep coming my way. But still.....WE DID IT

F he dynasty. Let's go BIG BLUE and hey:

Wasn't it great to see Bellichek leaving the field with time still on the clock even after Mike Carrey (the head official and the best official in the league) telling douche McRedSweaty that there was still time on the clock, run off the field...ah, the lack of class...the lack of need for respect. Motherfuck you Billy....We fucking did it.

Lets go Big Blue.

Sports Media Overkill

2008-01-30T20:21:00.000-05:00

I'm getting pretty tired of the typical sports writer. I'm also getting pretty tired of the typical sports fan.

Let me just state that I will be one of the happiest people in America if the Giants win this weekend...I love the team and I've always been a fan and supporter of Eli. I grew up watching Giant football, meaning pound the ball on the ground with Joe Morris, Otis Anderson and Rodney Hampton. I know the feelings of winning the super bowl (wide right wide right) and the feelings of losing that game...well, I guess I should say I know them as a fan. But until these past two weeks, I never quite understood the media frenzy that is the two week build up before the big game.

I'm aware that common stories get written about over and over again and beaten to death. I wasn't aware that every sportswriter comes out of the woodwork to declare themselves as experts on the teams in the Super Bowl. Just look at what the positive coverage of the Giants is causing. People actually believe that the Giants can win this game. If the Giants win this game, it is the biggest upset in Super Bowl history. At no point has any team stopped the Patriots this season when they had to...not only that, the Patriots have never really had to throw that touchdown on 4th down to save the perfect season. They just beat you down. You might get them to punt 2 times a game but you will not get that in the 4th quarter. Maybe it happened in the Ravens game, but thanks to all the phantom penalties on 4th down (and some legit ones) the Patriots did what they do and make the team pay.

Everyone makes a big deal that the Giants were up 12 points in the second half and lost...they almost had the game won. Teams who only score 12 points in a half lose games. It doesn't make any sense that the Giants would hold the Patriots down for the entire half. Then you have the stories about how the Giants only lost by 3...but no reference to the fact that the giants were down 10 with close to a minute to go. All of these facts are just thrown aside.

Let me say again, that I am a Giants fan and am rooting whole-heartedly for them in the Super Bowl. The last few sentences were probably considered kind of negative to some but I consider them realistic. The Giants are a 10-6 team who played mostly teams under .500 all season long. Tampa was not that great of a team, Dallas was (but faltering late) and no one can say anything bad about what the Giants did in Green Bay (except for Senor Pickles). The Giants are hot. They've won 10 in a row on the road (a record). They've been called the new America's team by some. Fanfare is high. Attention is all around...but people seem to forget something:

THEY'RE PLAYING THE BEST TEAM OF ALL TIME

Joe Namath predicted the Jets would beat the Baltimore Colts back in Super Bowl I (Yes, it was Super Bowl I. The first two were called "Championship Games"). He became a legend when he followed through on that prediction. To the best of my knowledge, no one gave him any chance to actually follow through on that prediction. The only difference now should be the Eli has not made such a dumb statement...but people are calling for the upset.

It would be great. It would be nice to hold something over the Massholes who have recently had a lot to brag about over NY. It'd also be nice because my team would have won the Super Bowl, thus justifying the purchase of a 42" Plasma I just bought to watch the game.

But I have to be realistic...and so should the sports media and fans. SportsNation (espn.com's interactive voting page) has the Patriots at less than 60% of the total votes of those predicting they win. That's just ludicrous. The people voting in that much mass for the Giants must be reading all of these stories about how the Giants are just the right team to bring down the Patriots and how Tom Brady's ankle really is hurt. Come on people. You have to realize that the people writing these stories are the people that have looked past the Giants all year when they had a chance to write about them, the same people that thought the Giants would be 4-12 this season, the same people that criticized them all season long...and now they're writing these feel good stories about the opportunity and the likelihood of victory this Sunday.

As a Giants fan, it makes me sick for one sole reason: These are likely the same people to write the "I told you so" stories when the Giants lose. The same people who just write whatever they are told to write or they can put together by a deadline. They are just filling a void with some bullshit that apparently people are buying into.

So for you, sportswriter, stop. cease and desist.

And for you typical sports fan, stop believing the hype. A Giants victory this Sunday would be a miracle for millions to witness. People should be rooting for the Giants, even if you hate NY. There is no reason to root for the Patriots unless you are a Patriots fan. Who roots for a team like that over an underdog like the Giants? It's like if people root for the Yankees when they play against the Marlins or Padres in the World Series. Unless you are a fan of them, can you really, honestly not put your hatred aside for the underdog and root against the top dog?

Basically, all of my feelings stem from outside of the last two weeks of the Giants being stroked by every sportswriter out there. It's pretty much the same reason I'm thrown off by you, average sports fan.

It's all about the perception. If it's written a certain way, that's the way it will be read by the vast majority. That's a large reason I stay away from politics...why bother when you know you can't trust what's being written.

SO, why care that baseball players have used steroids when you watch, read and love football? Steroids in baseball has been in the news the past 5 years at least and people have been up in arms and outraged by the players that would do such a terrible thing. Dragged in front of congress, media surrounding them, story after story about how they have soiled the national pastime, something the game may never recover from, think of the children, and on and on. Please. Motherfuck you if you feel any of this...and motherfuck you if you were a baseball fan but are outraged by the results of the BALCO investigation or the Mitchell Report. If you have a problem with Clemens or Bonds, I'll give you a little more leniency because they should just come out and admit it and take it on the chin like a fuck up, because that's what they did. They fucked up.

But you know who doesn't have to deal with any of the scrutiny? Who doesn't have story after story written about their abuse? Who doesn't have to deal with Congressional subpoenas, espn.com headlines and the fate of American children:

Football players.

My tie in didn't really work all that well, but I'm only adding this so that people will know I've crying about it. It doesn't really get mentioned all that much and it needs to be out there.

NFL Runner-up for defensive player of the year last year: Shawn Merriman...who spent 4 games on suspension thanks to steroids. His teammate, Luis Castillo failed a steroid test at the NFL combine. Rodney Harrison, New England's hard hitting, loud mouthed safety with game changing plays week in week out...suspended 4 games for HGH. These are not just your everyday players in the NFL. These are anchors of Super Bowl teams and championship game teams. Castillo made headlines for saying if he ever failed another steroid test that he would give his entire signing bonus back if he failed another test...he said he took them to recover for the NFL combine.

To me, it sounds like if you feel compelled to take an illegal substance to get ready to play in a paid football league, then that might send a pretty bad message to the kids...instead, we praise him for stepping up and admitting it. Do we do that with everyone who admits when they've cheated or lied or done other things wrong? I'm pretty sure that's not the way the world works....but that is how it is reported in this case, so we forget.

Shawn Merriman fails a steroids test after putting up insanely dominant numbers, seemingly directed related to his steroid use...Pro Bowl, congratulations.

Rodney Harrison makes big play after big play and we praise him for his game changing abilities and his hard hitting...but we don't care that he has recently come off a 4 game suspension for a failed HGH test. The dude missed the first 4 games of this season because of the failed test and all we heard about was "how good will the Patriots be when they get Rodney Harrison back."....back from where assholes?

We read these stories about football players who carry their team, are inspirations to communities, who are all this and all that, but we hear not shit about their steroid abuse.

In contrast, we see these fading stars who are past their primes and we find out that they are guilty in one way or another of cheating through chemicals....and then we read all about. We read about Miguel Tejada's impending case before the justice department for lying during an investigation. No one has heard from Mark McGuire or Rafael Palmiero since they were so coldly dismissed as talented ball players. When we hear the name McGuire, we think of steroids and hall of fame snub. When we hear about Palmiero, we remember the Congressional hearing where he said he never used steroids only to later fail a test and be black balled. We don't hear about the feel good story of Sammy Sosa and Mark McGuire saving baseball with their home run chase...presumably because it was all brought on by steroids....so why do we hear about the talent of Merriman, Harrison and Castillo? Why the contrast?

So as more and more people further down the road fail these tests and as baseball players and personnel are dragged in front of Congress while NFL players take in all the Pro Bowl festivities, remember that I'm saying this now and hopefully keep some sort of memory in the back of your mind about the reporting of these similar entities in entirely different ways...

And root for the Giants.

We did it!

2008-01-22T19:35:00.000-05:00

The Giants are going to the Super Bowl! As improbable as that sounds, we should have all seen this coming:

And I bet a bunch of you have already seen this in the past few days and for those that haven't, I'm sure most of you saw this when you were little.

As Chad as I want to be

2008-01-11T23:58:00.000-05:00

Cause that's who I am and that's who I care about.

Perhaps it's time to shine a little more light on the Untold Story:

Around the time that QP came to understand all that it takes to be a nation, he needed some help. He learned early on that he could lean on Sherman H. Live. Now Sherman was always a stand up guy. Nothing too outlandish about him, at least not anything too noticable. So together, QP and Sherman forged ahead to form what could only be described as "a terrible high school garage band". Not because either was all that good at music. Considering the literacy problem between the two of them, it was amazing they could spell their own names. In fact, that was one of their favorite hobbies...spelling things they saw. "C-a-t-a-p-i-l-l-e-r" one would say while the other would say "o-n-a-m-o-n-a-p-e-a".

Neither was all that bright and both were about the least radtastic (there you go Joe) two people could ever be.

But as time went on, they came into their own and developed a certain Chad about them. The Testington they built between each other was quite strong and many outsiders tended to get drawn in by their Chadness.

Of course, this is where our happy duo started their split that so many often come by. As QP rolled down the hill only to run back up only to get pushed back down by Flava Flav/Question Mark suit guy child, Sherman started hanging out with the more totally fucking gothic dude kind of crew...only they weren't gothic at all. They were just ridiculously skinny kids with equally ridiculously dark hair and tight close. It was simple to see that the rift was forming between the two.

years went by without a doubt. while QP was blowing up, Sherman was airing out. It was sad to see what happened as time went on. QP rolled with the flow as Sherman became the deadbeat cousin that he is today.

It was a shame the Chad Testingness got between them. It's a dangerous thing to be Chad. Some can't handle it. Others roll nicely with it.

Well, at 12:04 am hits the computer and the lights at work flicker, it's time for me to go home as the doctor is picking me up.

Giggidy Giggidy. Giggidy Goo.

Adios mis compadres

2008-01-09T22:32:00.000-05:00

bring us your hate that you cannot dispose of. bring us your vices that you cannot separate yourself from. bring us your fat cousin you can't the smell out of your nose from. bring us your sad, your dyslexic, your angered, your diabetic.

bring us those that you wish you could rid yourself us. no one likes someone who is too different to blend in. everyone makes fun of the people on the short bus, especially those who found out what a short bus was 4 years ago.

bring all of this together.

take all of this hate in, swirl it around in a bucket. then take that bucket to your friends house and combine buckets. likely, you'll have to stop at something like the container store to get a bucket big enough to hold both buckets worth of hate. slap bach's flava flav/question mark suit guy illegitimate kid on the way out.

now take all that hate and throw it off a fucking cliff.

i'm putting an end to player hate in '08. matter of fact, fuck player hate in '08. i'm so not player hating in '08(ing) that i'm hating the hate out of the player hating.

i'm just too angry in player hate in '08.

now some of you have probably said, "but i thought we were 'procreate in '08' or 'change your gait in '08'". well, we are, only even more officially right now.

and all of you are no doubt wondering what the hell was going on with the first few paragraphs of this bitch. well, i don't so much know either. all i know is i'm pretty sure it's almost time to crack...why?

well, when i don't see any of you for the next 2 months, it's not that i'm wishing to never see any of you again and it's certainly not because i have new cool friends. simply put, i'm just busier now that i have ever been. how busy? i'm glad you asked...like over 40 hours of OT busy...as of Wednesday. After tomorrow night, I'll be at about 48 hours of OT going into the first Friday of the pay period.

so that's about 15 more hours of ot that i have ever worked in 2 weeks that i did in 5 days (saturday and sunday included). it's that time of the year, so i must bid you all a fond farewell.

i don't know how often you will see me, hear me or read me. just remember, a nation cannot prosper without contributions from its people. So I put it on yous guys to make that happen. While I'm sitting at a desk, on a computer that has blocked any remotely fun outlets i could have, wishing to God I could be passed out face down in a puddle like all those happy homeless guys we see in DC, I need you guys to send me reminders about the radtasticness that is your free time.

But I need more than that. I need stories of nonsense. I need to know that there are people out there willing to step up for the greater good of the nation. Are you willing to take this challenge? Can you offer your services so that others may prosper? Are we all just as confused with this paragraph as with the first 2?

It's not my job to determine this. It's my job to sit in a room full of boxes as tall as I, eat dinner out of a plastic container every night, order lunch the night before because there is no time to go out during the day...and i'm pretty sure it's someone's job to do the remaining wedding planning with the doctor. So someone get on that because the 2 years i had leading up didn't so much matter all that much.

So vaya con dios mis amigos.

and when you do your chick, make her call you QP, just for me?

Except for you Ian. That would just be wrong. However, since you asked, your nickname can be Sister Fucker. Sure, it's tough that I have to deal with that, but you will have 2 kids I can call you that around and I'm pretty sure no one will really permit that to happen, so, well, go far and prosper Sister Fucker.

I feel wrong after that.

I feel better now.

I'm an emotional guy.

Lastly, someone please please please please please get on with the procreating in '08(ing)....and change that gait yo.

. . . in '08

2008-01-02T21:17:00.000-05:00

Today, I'm going with "Procreate in '08" because I think this is a good conversation topic. Not so much because we are all getting a little older, a little more married and into the slightly more appropriate age in which babies are socially OK, but more because I think we're all entering the "Oh God, I got this random girl pregnant."

That would be pretty funny. It's practically expected that two pump charlie will knock up a girl he meets at some random event. I'm not sure that would really be all that entertaining considering I spend most of my time with him trying to send him brain messages about how this should happen. Since the 4 stools morphed into a group of monotonous guys (no homo, the stools are more or less all spoken for is what i meant), it wouldn't be the top of the class random pregnancy group we're looking for. Though, for a kid who spends all his time with his boys declaring he doesn't have a girl friend, it'd be really funny of his bad influence popped out a one pump charlie and the 3 pumps spent the holidays together from here on out. Yeah, I think that would change Sunday Fundays at Adams Mill.

But I'm calling it here on this second day of Procreate in '08. I'm calling that someone out there connected to the QP Live experience will, in fact, turn up prego. And married people don't so much count...well, married people with children already, who say, live in Oregon, don't count here. Anyone married under a year counts. Anyone married more than 2 years but claims they don't want children count.

But I'm still not thinking about it this way. I'm thinking about it more like, one of the doctor's friends. That'd be great. They'd all get together and freak out a little and I'd go over and laugh really really hard. Then when the kid came out, I'd do my best to ensure that the kid grows up to love me and annoy its parents. Cause that's something I'd be good at. Cause a stir and then let someone else deal with it. Sounds like a good profession for me.

If I had to guess, I'd have to put the Otis around the top. I'm a little nervous about this though because he might already have a kid and just not have told anyone about it yet...cause he's capable of that.

Then there's your favorite and mine, Charles "Mister Pickles" Bach, who no doubt will show up to my wedding with a kid, be it his own, an adopted kid or the kid of some 36 year old cocktail waitress who left the kid in his possession and took off with Snake from the Simpsons on a crime spree not yet finished. Mister Pickles is the kind of guy who would take the kid in under the guise of keeping it safe only to raise the kid up to be a combination of Flava Flav, the Question Mark Suit guy and waldo....and there' no doubt this kid would be the future of freestyle walking.

I'm just putting it out there now, on the second day of the year. When you see one of your boys (or girls) leaving the bar, party, anything, with someone of babying making capabilities, remind them that it's Procreate in '08 and if they're not trying to improving my enjoyment of life by ruining their own, well, then they're just not a faithful member of the QP Live Nation.

Eff you Steve

2008-01-01T21:08:00.000-05:00

The big old EFFF YOUUUUU goes to Steve's Bar Room. This was our destination for new years 2 ot 8 ("Player Hate in '08" or "Change Your Gait in '08" or pretty much some many awesome things yet determined).

But Steve's Bar Room it was for $75 "open bar" all you can drink...only:

1. Rail drinks only
2. No beers included
3. Only one of the bars (the place had a total of 2) were open to the "open bar" deal
4. Champagne was only free until midnight
5. Poor showing by the bartenders

So we get into this potentially rad place.

Let's start over.

New Years for this guy started at work. Great. I roll out around 4, go home, get ready and off to dinner the doctor and I go to meet some friends around 7. Our awesome drink deal doesn't start until 10, so when most people don't show up to dinner until 8, we don't really mind at all. I started to mind at 9:45 when we had, at that point, been waiting for the check for 20 minutes.

So we end up in line for Steve's Bar Room at 10:15 and are inside and ordering our first drink by 10:30. I was way too sober for this environment. It's bass thumping, shitty tatoo having club scene to the nth degree, but I'm like "just get a drink and stand in the corner and all will be well."

Me: "Can I get a Grey Goose and Tonic?"
Bartender: "Rail drinks only"

It was Zelko vodka. I hadn't drank Zelko since freshman year when the Otis and I were walking down F Street and he offered me a sip of his vodka out of the plastic bottle and I almost booted it back up. So after half of this drink, I go to the back bar and order champagne. The bartender tells me the back bar is not for the all you can drink special but is kind enough to acquiesce this one time.

Since it's a wanna be club, I decide it's wanna be baller time after I finish my Zelko and Champagne. I head back to the front bar and ask for a full bottle of champagne...he tells me "You have to tip a little better than that." So I give him a $5 tip on top of the $150 I already paid to get in this shitty bar (like the gentleman I am, I bought the Doctor's ticket) and the $108 I got to spend on dinner. So as I near the $300 new years expense, I'm in a pretty good mood.

But now it's hand out time because I have my own bottle, right? Wrong. Stingy is a good way to describe my generosity. So after a bottle of champagne and a couple of other drinks, things are starting to get better. More of our friends have arrived and things become more fun.

At this point, it's 11:40 and the DJ makes the announcement that champagne is no longer free at midnight and you get a free copy of his shitty cd on the way out...NICE.

So I head to the bar with the Doctor, figuring it'd be easier to for her to get service. Armed with $10, we aim to get 2 bottles of champagne. The parents mistake that this guy was, he tells her that he can't just give out bottles to people. She shows him the $10, takes it, hands out 1 bottle and walks away. NICE.

So we head back to the group with this new bottle and sense of wanting to drown all employees, except the 6'4 bouncer, who was

A) the largest person at the bar by 50 pounds and
B) standing in the most narrow part of the bar all night.

Midnight comes, songs are sang, music is played, drinks are drunk and the place starts to clear out a little. I then engage one of my friends in conversation only to have some employee with haircut that can only be described as attack of the flowbee (he had bushy hair, but in the middle had pushed up what i guess could be called a really bad mohawk...i'd never seen anything like it and can't describe it for the life of me) come over and ask us if everything is OK and that no one is fighting here. I reiterate that to him by saying I'm talking to my friend and he should go away...or kick Topshelf out because Topshelf was hammered and fell over twice previous.

So that was just like a little nightcap. We left around 1:30 I think, nothing too special...Though, on the way out we did see a girl fall while walking towards a cab. That was pretty funny. I looked to my right and saw a girl walking and then she just up and disappeared. You can't write that any better than it was.

So that was my waste of all my money new years. I'm pretty sure that anywhere in DC would have been a rip off for all you can drink but I can only hope they would have advertised it a lot better. The only thing they did tell us ahead of time was champagne stopped at midnight. If you say open bar, you better fucking tell someone that it's rail drinks only. I've never felt more scammed in my life. This place was feeding off of fucking people over.

The bar itself was set up all fucked up too. You walk in and you're in a room the size of an average living room. If you walk around the back for awhile, you find another lounge with the 2nd bar. That's where we were all night. If these people were smart instead of just dicks, they would knock down the walls between the two rooms and have a huge open area that would be a perfect set up for a club or bar. 1 gigantic room is much better than two bedrooms with the worlds most unnecessary wall of all time.

I'd apologize for the negative post, but shit, player hate in '08 mofukas.

the you gotta be fucking kidding me update

2007-12-27T21:41:00.000-05:00

so vacation time has come and gone. all around, it was great to go home, spend some time with the family, play a lot of mario strikers charged on nintendo wii, light fires in the fire place, take the niece to the aquarium and do some sled riding with her, etc. plus opening presents is a pretty good time. but you know, it doesn't really provide good writing or reading material.

it's been a while since i've been out on the internet and there really didn't seem like much reason to come back. after all, writing a boring entry isn't much better than reading a boring post...and i was feeling a little like that's where these things were going of late. that kind of depressed me. you know, not much going on, no kickball wars, frisbee success, blacked out drunk stories etc to discuss. what really is the point of all of this if it's just an update about my day.

unless my day goes like this:

9:30 am: wake up and pack the remainder of my stuff in the car
10:15 am - breakfast
11:15 am - leave the house for the dentist
11:45 am - arrive at the dentist, conveniently located on Elm St. Not making this up. Kindly, the appointment was short and easy...but there was something remaining in my head about being on Elm St. that wouldn't get out of my head.
12:10 pm - Realize that the highway I want to get on is backed up, so instead of taking the close entrance that will put me a mile further back, i take some side streets to enter at a different point. the first road i turn down is a dead end...or an omen, you look at however you want.
1:15 - arrive at my friends place in New Jersey. I was visiting a friend before I was going to head back to DC. I figured I would stay until 4. Sure, this was taking a slight risk because I would be leaving at the beginning of rush hour, but hey, it's the day after Christmas, it might be bad, but nothing like a Thanksgiving rush hour.

So our story starts at 4:05. I hit the road and once I hit the highway, I'm stuck in traffic. However, this is just for a toll and 1 mile and 15 minutes later, I'm through and into the clear. Next stop: New Jersey turnpike.

There are 2 options on the turnpike: cars only or cars and buses. Now, I'm a fucking moron for many reasons previously told here in the past. But this was just another example. The choices were "Roadway Closed" or "Cars, Trucks and Buses." Some cars were still going into the roadway closed way, so I went for it. The roadway was open, but this was the turnpike's way of telling you that it was not a good idea to drive down it. So I'm all like "I guess no one will go this way and I'll be in the clear." I was wrong.

About 4 miles into this, I'm in bumper to bumper traffic. It's about 4:50 at this point. The turnpike backs up here (around exit 9) because after exit 8A, the 2 lanes of Cars, Trucks and Buses merges with the cars only lanes in one major cluster fuck. So I know it's going to be a delay, but it was pretty horrendous how far back it starts. So at this point, the cars and trucks in the right lanes are flying by and i'm just sitting there trying to stay calm and tell myself I'll be out of this sooner rather than later.

Later was more like 6 pm. It took 1:10 to go 10 miles. That was pretty, pretty shitty. So once the merge takes place around 6 or 6:10, the road opens up a little and things are getting better.

Until one of those fucking signs on the overpasses says, "Major Congestion at Exit 1. Use 295." So I was all, "that's what I'll do." I couldn't stand to sit in any more traffic. So I make a few calls and finally get in touch with Nighthawk Naylor, who, thankfully, tells me to get off at exit 4, which I'm at right there. So off onto 73 South I go, which I'm told will hit up with 295 in a few miles.

For Christmas, one of my presents was a GPS machine for the car. It didn't so much help me out in this situation because it kept telling me to do a U-Turn, presumably to head back to the Turnpike, which I was not going to do. So after 30 minutes, I'm still driving down 73 South when the GPS telling me to veer off onto another random road. I decide this can't be good because there is still not 295 in sight. I do start to think that I'm heading pretty close to Atlantic City. I pull out the map and decide, it's time to turn around and follow the GPS machine. I'm thinking that I just didn't know about a turn off that would send me to 295. So following the GPS, I get onto the Atlantic City Expressway toward:

THE FUCKING NEW JERSEY TURNPIKE

At this point, I've just driven 45 minutes in the wrong direction and am now heading back to my own personal hell that is the New Jersey Turnpike....oh, and it's 7:15 and I'm STILL IN FUCKING JERSEY. 3 hours into what is a 3.5 hour drive (because I'm heading into the doctor's parents house in Md.) and I'm still in fucking jersey...and freaking the fuck out.

This was the first time that I realize that I'm screaming at the top of my lungs that I'm in Jersey...oh, and I'm driving about 95 in a rain storm on a crowded highway. This is also about the time I decide that I'm literally willing to drive off the road to avoid being in New Jersey any longer and thankfully dead only to realize that I'd probably live and when I woke up, I'd still be in a fucking hospital in Jersey...of course, then I start thinking that when the ambulance arrived at the scene of the accident, to tell them to either take me to delaware or pennsylvania or let me fucking die.

So I finally get back to the turnpike and find myself just north of exit 2. 45 minutes later and i'm 2 exits further down the road. I'M STILL IN FUCKING JERSEY

BANG go the knuckles into the roof of the car.

This is the point at which the doctor calls to see how my drive is going. I went on a fuck laced tirade for at least 2 straight minutes of just yelling into the phone about how i wanted to die, about how every motherfucker that drove on the turnpike today should be murdered and about how a bomb should drop on the fucking turnpike and kill us all. She was surprising supportive, which was nice. I started to perk up a bit. After all, this "Major Congestion" wasn't there at all...so I go off for what appeared to be no fucking reason at all.

After hanging up with the doctor, I started to feel a little better until about 30 seconds later because it's 7:30 AND I'M STILL IN FUCKING NEW JERSEY.

The great mercy of 7:57 comes around and I finally arrive in Delaware. Sweet Merciful Dela...FUCK FUCK FUCK

Halfway up the bridge, I am in fucking stopped traffic because of the toll. I get through the toll and 45 minutes later, at roughly 8:45, I'm stopped on a highway off and on, like I have been for the past 45 minutes. Eventually, I actually make it through the next toll and into Maryland I finally am where the road is sure to ope...FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

EVEN WORSE THAN FUCKING DELAWARE

and stuck in traffic I remain.

At this point, I'm pretty terrified of everything going on. I've left about 5 knuckle marks in the interior roof of my car. At one point, I punched the steering wheel and might brights turned on. I was screaming so loud that I was convinced I was having an out of body experience. I have no idea what the fuck was going on and all I wanted was out of the fucking car...or for someone to fucking kill me.

So I'm freaking the fuck out and I'm getting nervous because the last thing I need now is to get in an accident. I decide that I hate everyone on the road but in particular, anyone from Delaware or Massachusetts. Delaware because these people brake for literally no reason. Mass because these people just drive side by side with other assholes from Mass. What a fucking pain. I decide that all I want to do is bump every one of these cars off the road in hopes that they die in a fiery death and entertain myself along the way.

Anyway, I think it's clear that I'm pretty much out of control at this point and I need to stop driving. I consider pulling off and staying in a hotel for the night but that would just mean that I would sit in morning traffic and I would kill myself before doing that. So I try to continue calmly. That lasted for 10 seconds.

At this point, I have no inner monologue and there is not one sentence that doesn't contain both the word fuck and the word faggot. Not nice words but they were flying out and about...at some points I would apologize to cars for calling them such names.

So it's now 9:45 and I haven't hit Baltimore. Traffic will go and then it will stop but I remain consistently pissed the fuck off...UNTIL...I finally reach the moment where I go too far.

So I'm stopped in the left lane as the middle and right lane are going by us at about 10 MPH. The car in front of my puts their blinker on and it blinks for a good minutes, which feels more like 30. Other cars have slowed down to let this asshole in but the car won't do it. Our lane is not moving, but people are letting it happen and this car just won't move in. Finally, our lane starts to creep and this car still hasn't made it in the next lane with a car stopped to let the car in so I take supreme action. I pull the old drive into the shoulder around the car in front of you and then cut that car off in the left lane as well as the car in the middle lane. I didn't even look. I knew I was in front of the car originally in front of me but had no idea what was in the middle lane. It was at this point that I could hear nothing and braced for an impact that never came.

I thought I was going to get jacked right in the middle of the car and cause a massive accident. I have no idea why I did what I did but even less of an idea why I didn't get hit. I had no reason to think this would work and am not sure right now how I got away with it.

But after this, I was toast...fortunately, the road opened up soon there after and I was able to drive no slower than 45 for the rest of the trip.

Depart New Jersey at 4:05 for a destination 3.5 hours away.
Arrive Columbia, Md at 10:30 pm, 6 hours and 25 minutes after leaving.
Depart Columbia, Md. at 10:50 pm, arrive Washington, DC at 11:30 pm.

12 hours and 15 minutes since the road trip started. Over 7 hours after I left from Jersey for what should have been a 3.5 to 4 hour drive. Someone fucking shoot me.

Things I learned from this experience:

1. I am not driving more than 1 hour away on the east coast ever again. I've added California to this rule as well.
2. People who live in North Dakota, Wyoming and other abandoned states are smarter than me because they don't deal with this type of misery.
3. Never start your day on Elm St. Just an all around stupid idea.
4. Don't ask your boy who has a 1 track mind for Atlantic City for directions when within 2 hours of said destination.

Along this path towards AC, I did debate just going there (I think I was less than a half hour away when I finally turned around) and sitting at a table and getting wasted. Then I remembered I had a bottle of vodka in the car and debated drinking that. Then I just kept driving and decided I didn't need a dwi to go with the worst case of road rage I've ever experienced.

Today at work, every time I did something, I thought about my experience in traffic. I couldn't and still can't get this out of my mind. It was horrible. I'm serious about this driving time thing. I'm not driving more than an hour at a time ever around here again. Only if it's like 4 in the morning but if we stop at anything on the highway that isn't a toll, I'm snapping and killing everything I see.

So I feel kind of better but I'm still going to kill New Jersey. I was never one of the anti Jersey kids and I would sometimes stand up for Jersey. Now, however, now I'm like FUCK JERSEY. FUCK JERSEY, FUCK DELAWARE, FUCK NORTH MARYLAND AND FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK you holiday traffic. you are gay.

translation

2007-12-13T18:58:00.000-05:00

there's been a tear in my eye for the past 2 days. I'm not sad or anything like that, it's just been there. I almost walked out of work yesterday because I've pretty much had enough of the person who irritates me the most at work, so I pretty much stopped doing anything for a period of time. I thought it was just me, but other people are sharing similar frustrations, so I felt a little better about hearing that and manned up a little.

But it got me thinking.

Yesterday, I pretty much was in one of those fuck the world type moods where it didn't fucking matter what happened around me, I just didn't give a fuck. It made me think a lot too. I've been watching season 4 of The Wire all week and on that show, life just doesn't have any meaning...that is, no meaning to the everyday associates that person might run with. It's all in the game. One day you might be there and the next you might not, but either way, you have to just do what keeps you going and let the other stuff pass.

I guess that's kind of like what work is, except in the non violent way of course...meaning, I guess you just have to do whatever you have to do to get through the day. The next day, you're going to face similar challenges, but you have to keep moving. The Wire tries to be as realistic as possible in is scripting and screen play. They have 13 and 14 year olds having a hand in the drug trade. Dudes killing each other over turf or over not following instructions the proper way...other dudes whose job it is to just murder on command...cause it's all in the game.

I guess that translates to me dealing with the short cited, immature and "professional" way that people treat you hear. Step out of line and they could suspend or fire you. Hold your tongue and you feel you're disrespecting yourself.

I'm more or less on record with the feeling that the business hierarchy is a piece of shit. Why treat the people you see the most like they are some cog in an industry that doesn't value you over the person who could catch up to your skill set with 2 weeks training? I don't see it. Additionally, I try to take the little I know from being out and about and bring it into this place.

To me, that's taking what I learned from working with people on the field and behind the scenes, like being a team captain. If you're in a position where you are responsible for people, you can't expect to lead them appropriately by force or dictation because they will not support you. They will bail on you the first chance they get, especially if you don't show them the support they are worth consistently. You can't just shit on a group for 300 days and on the 301st do something nice and expect that to carry any weight. Shit, I find that to be more insulting that 300 days of crap.

Machiavelli's thing was to ask if it was better to be feared or loved. He goes on to say feared because if they love you, they'll support you. But, when that one cocky asshole who comes in, he will eventually take you over. If they fear you, they'll do what you say out of fear and won't even dare to take you over.

But what if they fucking hate you? Then they will plot against your ass and fucking punish you the first chance they get.

In my time, I've tried to do the whole fear thing and I've tried to do the whole loved thing. What I've learned is that if they respect you, they'll work with you. If you lead by example, they will look up to you and try to follow what you do. I think I was successful with this in the past because while I could ruffle some feathers, the people who looked up to me knew they could count on me and trust me. At least I think.

That's the kind of shit I'm looking for in the people who are "superior" to me in this business style world in which we work. Don't come to me with a directive, especially if your job title has the word paralegal in it, and try to command me to do something. That won't fly. That will just piss me right off. Come at me like a fucking person, like the sensitive alias that I am and have enough respect for the people you spend 50-60 hours a week with to understand who they are and what makes them work.

Everybody has a thing. Everybody has that nerve you can easily jump on and everyone has that side you can easily appeal to. If you can't find that after spending all those hours with these people, then I feel sorry for you.

And that's why the tear is in my eye today...because I can't bring myself to hate a person who clearly is lost in a world where everything appears to be worse than it is because of an inability to understand those people constantly around.

making up things as i go

2007-12-10T16:44:00.000-05:00

Can't explain why but these fingers have been going a little wild these last 45 minutes. The quantity of emails to fly off about things roughly determined to be nothing more than one large typo has been spewing out for a little bit now...so why not just start typing with absolutely nothing in mind, right?

So I'm dolling out nicknames today. Can't really figure out exactly why, but I am and I don't want to stop until some force of total merc makes it happen but I feel like I'm slowing down.

I played tackle football yesterday...maybe this is why I'm in an odd state of being today. Maybe when I got my head knocked on the ground almost immediately something did happen only I didn't feel it. But it was totally worth it. I mean, I haven't walked comfortably, turned my neck without pain or really figured out why it is that I am going to do it all again this weekend but I'm going for it. This is sweet.

So if you're in the market for a nickname, come at me because I'm working on them right now. So far today, Tim has been given Nighthawk and the hottest man (serious no homo here, but this is what the ladies tell me) in DC has been given "The Settler" for constantly selling himself short on the gifts bestowed on him by his parents when they boned some 26 years ago.

Anyway, so The Wire season 4 hits HBO On Demand tonight and I am pumped up. I'm going to watch it to show how pumped up I am about it. The final season starts in January and I was smart enough to watch this series from the beginning, so I'm looking forward to this. Please don't be that guy who ruins the end of things just to be that guy because that's not really all that cool. Please be that person that says, "I won't say another word until you've seen the whole thing" because that's more my speed. Thanks for that. I'd be your friend for as long as you don't annoy me after that if we can come to this simple agreement. Don't test me on this. I have weapons and people who has weapons have very poor judgment.

In other news, I was hanging out with a few co-workers at a holiday party on sunday night. Somehow the topic of who would win a fight, me or this co-workers husband, came up. He stole my classic line of "I'd win because I fight dirty." He proceeded to tell me he'd kick me in my knees and things like that. I was shocked and appalled by his lack of ability to fight dirty. When I say I fight dirty, I mean i'd do all sorts of dirty shit like throw us both down a flight of stairs (done twice) or over a bunch of couches repeatedly (only once and I lost that battle) just to see who comes out of it worse. I would also, if given the opportunity, be that guy who picks up that weapon that has all the spikes on the ball that swings on that chain they used to use back when Robin Hood ruled the world...or was it when Bill and Ted when Back to the Future. Anyway, I'd got all Gladiator on that Juwanna Mann.

Time to go.

What can you do, what could you do?

2007-12-07T23:31:00.001-05:00

Right. I mean, it's 11:30 on a Friday night and QP is doing what he does best...drinking ones and sitting in front of a computer.

Why?

Because QP is still at work. YEAH! it's friday night and we're working at 11:30. NICE.

There's a big deadline, so I get to sit here until midnight to see if the other side files any motions that says we're idiots. Basically, the way it works is, we say they are fuckwads and they no, you guys are the ones who in fact are fuckwads. A little later we say back to them based on their argument that they are in fact the fuckwads and they do the same with our arguments. Eventually, a judge rules that we are in fact bigger fuckwads than they are, but only because the tranny judge has a hard on for the particular type of fuckwad that they are.

We are the type of fuckwad that plans a well thought out argument with few holes in it and they are the type of fuckwad thats response is "No. Stupid head." Most would assume that sort of childish response would take away from their credibility, but not with our judge...the skank.

Moving on to other news in the world of "wait, what?" We went to play basketball last night at a gym in Columbia Heights. They offer adult night from 7-9 pm on Thursdays and reiterated this last week. So we show up and are told we can't use the gym because they're preparing for an event. Sweet. Basically, the way this place works is, they don't get that many people to attend, but on the off chance someone shows up to say use the basketball court, they get turned away if there is a previously scheduled event...even if no one is there.

They have classes set up and are listed in their pamphlet...but they also tell you that no one ever goes to these things. But if you try and show up and play ball when the court is reserved for Tae Kwon Doe, you can't play ball...even if no one is in the Tae Kwon Doe class (and you need your robe or whatever you call it to be in the class, fyi in case you go).

So we decided to play on the lit court outside...in the 30 degree weather....until they told us they were locking the gates at 7:45. The gym says it closes at 9, but they kick people out at 8 because, and this is a direct quote, "we don't get paid overtime." Now I understand that gripe. If I didn't get paid overtime, I would not be here writing this...no, I'd be out bumpin uglies with hopefully the fattest girl at the bar...because I'm engaged and the doctor wouldn't be threatened if i'm smashing my giblets on some donut shaped denim covered upper thigh...she would feel more concerned that the syphilis (proper spelling, thank you) had finally reached the tertiary stage and rotted my brain.

Anyway, who needs an hour to get the 7 people out of the gym? I could clear house in a place that big with that few people in it in 15 minutes...we were already outside and they were bouncing us 1 hour and 15 minutes prior to closing.

Ah DC, so lazy and distraught are the workers that they plan ahead to fuck you over.

None of this would happen if the Redskins were playoff eligible.

Snow...balls

2007-12-05T22:36:00.000-05:00

It snowed today. I woke up and the cars had this piney minty taste...I mean, I woke up and the cars had the whole frost thing going on and as I walked to the metro, it was flurrying ever so slightly. After about 30 minutes of sitting down and checking fantasy football stuff at work, I looked out the adjacent window to see it snowing for real. It was nice to look out for the rest of the day as it snowed continuously for the remainder of the day.

I got out of work at like 9 tonight and the doctor and I decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood. It turns out that I'm the least accurate person ever when it comes to throwing a snow ball. I missed every target I aimed for except two.

While walking around constantly making and throwing snowballs, all I wanted to do was peg some random person who had no idea it was coming from almost point blank range. Here's how I envision this going:

me: (throw a snowball really hard at someone at point blank range) "I got you motherfucker. HAHAHAHA....please don't kill me"

random dude/manslaughterer: (utter look of shock/split second look of fear turning to burning rage) "AHHH! What the fu...You fucking asshole"

me: "Wanna get in a snowball fight?"

manslaughterer/guy with no sense of snowball humor: "No." (proceeds to throw me into a moving car.

I would have to say that would be entirely worth it.

So as we walked down a street, we walked past an apartment with a guy and a girl sitting around the place, watching tv....I couldn't resist, so I pegged the window good and true. I felt happy because I finally made contact with something and because I knew I got their attention. As we continued to walk down the block, I kept looking back every couple of seconds to make sure there wasn't a crazed person chasing me down.

Later on, after 45 minutes of walking/throwing snowballs and not hitting anything, the doctor took some pity on me and started running ahead of me in a zig zag pattern. I light up her leg pretty damn good and now she complains of charlie horse pains. NO MERCY SNOWBALL MACHINE.

I'm like Newt LaLoosh.* Not very accurate, but crazy heat.

So that was my day in the snow. It was nice because it doesn't always snow that much here in Chocolate City. Here we are in December, in the first cold week of the year and we already have a good snowfall. Odds are, due to the inability of this area to deal with winter weather, most schools will be on delay or closed tomorrow in the area. I'm serious about this. The snow could stop falling now and there would still be delays tomorrow. This is the same city that cancelled school 2 days after a snow fall once...it's the same city that my freshman year in college got 7 inches of snow and didn't clear it off the streets for a week...not exaggerating. true story.

Tomorrow is one of my favorite work days of the year. Yes, I just wrote that. Why? Because tomorrow is the day that the building my office rents space out of throws the lobby holiday party. This goes on from 5-7 and they have a chocolate fondue station, plenty of delicious appetizers....and a bar. Wine and beer only but man it's fucking sweet. They also do an auction and give away like 10 or 15 things. 3 years ago I won a $100 gift certificate to a really nice restaurant. I haven't won since, but I did get hammered every year at it...Nice. Last year I had to go back to work after the party along with another paralegal. It was funny because she was wasted, as was the attorney we were supposed to work with. When I couldn't reach either of them by phone, I went up to their offices to find them running up and down the halls with no shoes on, double fisting red wine. Fond memories of this party I have.

I guess this is the closest my world will ever come to the office holiday party that I read about in playboy when I was 10. You know, the one where everyone gets wasted and then that other side of the tracks co worker bones the well mannered chick who is also quiet and reserved in the supply closet....or when the 65 year old female partner comes onto the youngest employee who has just been hired 2 weeks earlier only to find out the new hire is a cougar hunter and bones her on the namesake of the offices desk. you know that story? because i'd be lying if I said that kind of imagery doesn't go through my head on a minutely basis at every office party I go to.

Basically, I look around wondering, "where is she?" It's like those TV shows that keep you in suspense before informing you whose been voted off. Only my show hasn't ended yet and this person hasn't revealed herself yet. I guess we could call the show "Cougars" but that is pathetically un QP to be that uncreative. How about "Young Meets Old: Where a Vagina damaged by birthing a child swallows a young professionals boy cock". Yeah, that's a much better title. We could just call it "Boy Cock" for short, but that's pretty damn gay. We'll have to go with "Old Swallows Young." I like that a lot better.

So basically I'll be searching for this closure every holiday season at the office and I guess if it happens, I'll have to retire.

Happy Snowfall.

* Do you know who this person is?

i heard what you said but you fuckin crazy

2007-12-02T23:02:00.000-05:00

that title is better than anything that i could ever do whatever and do-op with the hoot-any.

ya holler?

i holler?

that how i

tat tat tat what the fuck man.

at the skins game today, they wouldn't let me walk in with my book. that's just plain wrong. they wouldn't let me take my book into the game.

i'm told (by the movie Class Act (starring Kid 'n Play (holler jamal bach))) that reading is fundamental...so please tell me what's fundamental about throwing my book out because the fucking skins won't let me take my book into the game.

i'm taking it up with the man. i'll holler at you when i hear from them / when i read this later and determine how i get my book back.

raymond spears, ya holler?

Say my name biotch

2007-11-29T17:07:00.001-05:00

So I've been advocating traveling by train these past few weeks. Honestly, it's the easiest way to travel. No security lines, you don't have to check bags unless you want to and there are not traffic jams to deal with. I think I'm completely sold now because I just called up Amtrak to check on my sister's train and was greeted by an automated teller named Julie.

They named their automated teller. And they gave her a normal name like Julie. That's like naming your dog Rich. What's that all about? I named my snake (pet not trouser) Doyle because I wanted him to have a name that wasn't quite common but could still pass as a name that someone wouldn't mind having. To me, this gave him a sense of uniqueness. But Julie? Come on.

I've always changed around my friends names to give them random names that are not obscure in anyway, but rather just a name that any other person could have that I'm using to identify someone I know in a way that no one else around me would understand. My earliest example is my friend Alex, who I generally call Brent. His middle name is Brent and most of his family calls him that, so one day it just started coming out. It was fun a lacrosse practice when people would ask me who I was talking about and why do I have a random name for someone when everyone else knows that person as something different.

Then there was Frank. His real name was Ramien (rah-mean) but one day at soccer practice I decided his name was Frank. For some reason, the soccer league we played in during high school declared that saying "I got it" was unsportsmanlike, so we would have to say our name and then ball to alert our teammates who was going to make a play on the ball. For example, "QP Live's ball (bitches)". So one day at practice good old Frank goes up for a header and declares, "Ramien's ball". Well Ramien's ball sounded funny to me and since he was a sophomore and I was a mighty senior who was also captain, I picked up the ball and stopped practice for a second. I declared that Ramien's ball wasn't going to fly and that he needed a new name and that name was Frank. Not really sure why Frank was that new name but it was. Many people could get upset at me for what could be perceived as an affront on an innocent kid with an international background, but not Frank. Frank fucking rolled with the name. From then on, at soccer practice, he referred to himself as Frank as did the coaches and the rest of the players.

Of course, name changes didn't always get taken as well as Frank took to it. There was this time when I was a camp counselor you see. I was only a sophomore in high school and I was pretty much a fucking moron...more so than now. I started to give all of the kids nicknames and I decided one kid would be Stephanie because the camper looked like my friends sister Stephanie. Well this kid didn't like it too much, either because he was a boy and didn't want to go by a girls name or because the kid was a fucking psycho and needed the slightest push to flip the fuck out. So he flipped the fuck out. Anyone who knows me knows that I like to throw dry leaves on fires, so naturally I pushed and prodded this kid for most of the summer. Most of the time, it was subconsciously too. I really didn't even realize I was doing it most of the time.

So good old Stephanie and I had a few show downs over the summer. One ended in him biting my hand just before the end of the day. I went home and he went to the head counselors. I was told that it wasn't the best situation but I had nothing to worry about because the kid bit me in response to seemingly nothing. I think I blocked his shot in basketball or something. Anyway, round 2 was the decisive round. We were doing something random near the end of the day and I think he threw a rock at my head. Because, as mentioned above, of my moronic nature, I decided I was going to kill this kid. Fortunately my sister was there and cut me off and used her nails of death to make me realize that wrecking a 9 year old was not the smartest move but at this point, the damage was done. Later that day I was told by the bosses that I would get the next 2 days off to rest my foot (I had a broken foot at the time) while the kid finished his last 2 days of camp. What a swell time I'm sure he had.

That was the second time my sister got in the way of my battles. Another time I crashed my parents car for the 2nd or 3rd time in what seemed like 5 minutes but was really 1 month. My buddy Kornfeld came over to the house and called me a fucking moron and told me I shouldn't be driving. I thought that was really considerate of him since he came to my house 30 seconds after I had gotten off the phone with my dad who had pretty much told me not only was I not driving again but I was also being castrated so his grandchildren didn't inherit my stupidity. Anyway, Kornfeld comes in all high and mighty so I try to kick him out of my house. He felt naturally rejected and said a bunch of shit. So I threw a citronella candle at him....one of those big ones that are like 5 pounds.

So Kornfeld used to be a lot bigger than he is now. But I never saw his as intimidating until he took the candle off the back shoulder, turned and charged. Thank God my sister stepped in front of him when she did and then locked me in the house. I would not have won. Kornfeld and I still laugh about that to this day but he still reminds me I was a bitch for throwing the candle at his back. I can't deny it was the wrong move but I will deny that it wasn't hilarious to me then and now.

But there is always my man and your Charles Jamal Bach. Of course the kids real name is John Christopher Bach, but he goes by Chris. One day I up and started calling him Charles and it pretty much stuck.

Then there is Otis. His name is David. Thanks to dangerous hall game, he got the name Otis as a way of distracting him when dominate said hall game.

There are probably a lot others but I have to be productive now...

Sean Taylor

2007-11-27T14:12:00.000-05:00

My alarm went off at 8:20 this morning and the first sound out of the radio was "Sean Taylor has died". About 10 seconds later, my phone vibrated with a text message saying the same. That's a terrible way to start your day.

When I first heard the news yesterday, I was upset. I like Sean Taylor the football player. I like the way he plays the game. He flies around the field, he appears on the screen out of nowhere and levels people, he plays hard and he had been improving himself as a person in the last few years. That much was evident from me just by only hearing his name for the positive things he did on the field as opposed to the beginning of his career when you would only hear about the negatives he did off the field.

Sean Taylor was not an angel. Sean Taylor was a player who would get in your face and do whatever he had to to throw you off your game. Unfortunately, this included spitting in opponents faces from time to time. That is a disgusting act and should/was not condoned.

I got to watch Sean Taylor play live twice last football season and in both games, he was the most fun player to watch on the field at all times. This season I've watched a fair share of Redskins games and seen him limp off the field on special teams only to be right back out there on defense. To me, it symbolized that he enjoyed playing football. He didn't have to play on special teams. He was the most feared safety in the game and with that rep, I don't think he necessarily had anything left to prove. But he did it to help his team.

If I was asked last week who my favorite player in the NFL was right now, I probably wouldn't say Sean Taylor. I really don't know who that player is. But I can say with full confidence that my favorite player to watch was Sean Taylor. Countless times I'd watch games only to see this person flash on the screen and make a huge play. I never saw him coming but I was always thinking, "where is Sean Taylor right now." I never had to wait long to get my answer. The guy was everywhere. Just an amazing talent.

I tend to root for professional athletes like Sean Taylor. Guys who make stupid mistakes but get a chance to turn their lives around. He was arrested for either threatening a man with a gun or beating a man with a gun who stole his ATVs. For that, he got probation. What he did was not commendable and was downright stupid, but he was given another chance. Since then, he had no run ins with the law. People around him say he had changed his life, especially since the birth of his daughter. I root for players like Sean Taylor because they serve as inspirations to millions of people around them. They were young and dumb, but they learned and improved themselves and could be role models for people in similar situations down the road.

Athletes have privileges that others do not but this does not make them immune to acts of stupidity.

I kept checking the sports stations and websites yesterday for whatever updates would come. I continued to expect the news to changed from him being in critical condition to having passed away. I was not shocked when I heard the news this morning. When people explained that getting shot in the femoral artery usually leads to death, I hoped that due to his peak physical condition, he would be able to pull through. Unfortunately, that was not the case. This is a terrible tragedy for his family, for his football family and all of us.

But what was Sean Taylor into, right? What got him killed? It's reported that a week ago, someone broke into his house, went through some drawers and left a knife on one of his pillows. Why? It makes you wonder what he may have gotten himself into. Selfishly, I hope all of the details come out one day so we can confirm all of the positive things his friends and family have said about the improvements in his life the past few years. I want to know just how necessary it was for his murderer to do what he did. Was it necessary?

When I first heard he was shot in an apparent burglary, I thought that maybe Sean Taylor came out of nowhere and tried to blindside the robber like some many of his opponents and took a bullet for that. There are reports he took out a machete to defend himself. I guess he didn't have a gun and why would he? He was on probation for a gun charge and he didn't want to run the risk of getting in trouble.

Lots of people have their own thoughts and feelings about this situation. An espn.com article reminds us that Sean Taylor is just another number for the worst statistic in America ("The leading cause of death for black men age 15-24 in America is homicide.") It's not often that a professional athlete falls into that category so the author also reminds us, "it's even more important that we remember there are thousands just like...."

It's hard to think anything will change as a result of this murder. It's likely that there will be some awareness about it for a few weeks, maybe months, but then he will be nothing more than a memory. Darrent Williams, a former Denver Bronco, was murdered last January. There was outcry then as well as raised awareness, but here we are again.

People are never going to stop fighting with each other but we can all get smarter. You don't have to murder someone to prove a point.

I'm no expert on street life, never even shot a gun before in my life and definitely am not from a tough neighborhood, so maybe writing this makes me a hypocrite or just plain ignorant. But I do know what a sense of community, of family, is and I have sympathy for anyone who has lost a piece of that...especially in such a violent way. A man ripped from his fiancé, his daughter, his parents but being shot in the leg, bleeding profusely and eventually succumbing to it all. What kind of last image is that for them?

A man who worked to improve himself for the sake of his family is taken down. To me, that is the biggest tragedy here. He was just starting to live a productive, meaningful life and it was all destroyed in a senseless act.

So as the news stations, websites, message boards and gchats all remember Sean Taylor today, let's not forget him tomorrow, next month, next year or next decade. Let's remember our sadness for him and his family today and forever so that the way we live our lives can influence everyone we come in contact with in the hope that it trickles down from person to person.

debate amongst yourselves

2007-11-19T22:54:00.000-05:00

some things are not worth arguing over. some things are not worth bringing up at all. for example, when all you want is another pitcher of amstel light (because it was on special...generally it's a disgusting beer) try not to let your kobe bryant loving friend get into a debate with an over matched bartender who apparently hasn't watched a pro basketball game since 2004 over who is the best player in the league. A) cleary it's Kobe and B) it adds 5 minutes to getting your refill.

but let's go over a few debates and analyze what they mean.

first debate:

Sheetz v. Wawa.

For those that don't know, the great Commonwealth of Pennsyltucky is famous of their Wawa's (east side of the state) and Sheetz (west side of the state). People from either side of the state will tell you one is better than the other. that means half of these fucks are fucks. can you guess which ones are which? if you said those in favor of Sheetz, congratulations! For Sheetz provides a clearly inferior product.

At no point in this debate does one need to consider anything other than the food and beverage side of the argument. For the most part, at least in my experience, both of these are gas stations that provide above average (like me!!) food selections. Both have push button sandwich technology made with fresh ingredients and that's pretty much where it stops.

Wawa just does it all better except for one thing. It's a big one thing. Sheetz only has the fact that they sell Mac and Cheese as a side dish and Wawa does not do this. I've never tried it before and even if it was the most disgusting mac and cheese in the world, I'd still give it props for having it to begin with. But that is where the positive stops.

Wawa has better sandwiches. Wawa has great ice-t and Wawa also has a make your own milkshake option. They have their amazing pretzels, amazing breakfast sandwiches and their all around awesomeness.

Sheetz does not. Go into a sheetz and order a turkey sandwich with cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato and pickles. The bread will be crispy to the point where the crust flakes off, there will be two thin slices of turkey (assuming they remember to put it on the sandwich to begin with) the bacon will be cold and you will leave with the feeling that the leper who made your sandwich had a finger fall off whilst combining your ingredients for an all around subpar sandwich.

Wawa will give you a nice, fresh, soft roll with plenty of turkey to fill up the bread and the rest of the ingredients will overflow into a pile of deliciousness. There is no comparison.

So eff U western Pa.

Debate number 2:

When is she your girlfriend?

It's fun to give your friend shit when they think their casual relationship is taking a turn for the serious. It's even more to watch him writhe in agony as he tries to defend himself against the accusations.

He claims she is not his girlfriend. Others say she is. Let's examine the facts:

-They spend most nights together
-On some of these nights, they don't bone. They just sleep next to each other. Usually a dead give away in my book.
-She is enjoying Thanksgiving dinner with his family. This will be the first time she meets any of his family.

Pretty much, there is a strong case for why this is his girlfriend. These are all convincing situations where one could generally jump to the conclusion that she is a girlfriend...

But she isn't for one simple reason.

The talk.

Unless you've had the talk, you are not the girlfriend. I don't care if you've been boning for months, years, whatever. Without the talk, you're not the girlfriend. In fact, the doctor and I never had the talk. We went from casual hook up to engaged. true story. but don't ask her, she's in denial.

But in reality, I have to defend my two pump friend. Since the talk has never happened, she is not the gf. A relationship is entirely based on communication but without the talk, are you really communicating? Relationship experts, aka guys who've been dating the same girl for almost 8 years, will tell you that having the talk is the first serious conversation two people should have before they start officially boning. Without it, you're not committed...and that pretty much makes you a whore.

However should you decide to have the talk, you should pat yourself on the back. Along with the talk comes all the wonderful benefits of sitting out singles night, not grinding on the slutty hot chick at chief ikkies who won't remember any of it in the morning, or the bouquet tosses at weddings. You miss out on all that horrible shit.

Long Awaited Much Anticipated....

2007-11-15T16:38:00.000-05:00

PRISON BREAK RECAP TIME!!!!!

Wow. No kickball. I feel so naked. So exposed. So little to do. What should I do?

Here's a list of things I've contemplated buying tonight with my new found free time:

Sirius satellite radio boom box for the office
HD TV
stuff crust pizza
porn - preferably midget porn for safety sake
Virginia Tech Yankees hat
duct tape, rope and whatever chemical breaks down human flesh - to get vengeance on M2SAYD for blowing up QP Live's spot on the kickball message board
Lawyer to help with previous thought

So that's about where I'm at...but do you know where Michael Scofield is?

He's in Panama...outside of Sona. What's Sona? Well:

So at the end of season 2, Michael gets put into Sona, a Panamanian jail, by the Company. The Company has some plan for him there, but we have no idea what that is. We find out from the opening credits that this season has a bunch of new faces. Joining Michael in Sona is T-Bag, Mahone and Bellick. Sucre is presumed off looking for his lady and Linc is free, trying to figure out how the hell roles just got reversed.

Moving through all of the bs, it turns out that Michael is in Sona to break this random dude James Whistler out. However, Sona is not like any other prison. Well, it's actually based on what I was told turned out to be a real scenario. Sona is patrolled on the outside by military but on the inside by El Lochero. He's a drug kingpin serving 4 life sentences. The background is that the inmates killed so many guards that they just pulled out and let the inmates run the place themselves. They have a system in place where no ones kills another without then being killed himself by Lochero. To settle a beef, you pull out a chicken leg on someone. It's exactly what it sounds like...it's a chicken leg attached to a string that you pull out in some over dramatic way. This means a 1 on 1 fight to the death. It's pretty brutal but I'm watching this show and basically finding that so long as you're not a total pussy/idiot, you can survive in that place just by not getting in anyone's way. Or at least this is what television teaches me.

So that is the basic system and like I said before, this is actually based on an actual prison I think in Mexico. My friend works in that area and told me about it but I obviously have no memory.

So while all that is going on in Sona, Sarah (Michael's load station) and LJ (Linc's kid) have been kidnapped by The Company to make sure that everyone plays ball. Due to the difficulty of breaking out of there, Michael tells Linc that it pretty much can't be done and Linc has to break out Sarah and LJ. Linc finds them but The Company escapes with the two of them. Ala "Seven", Linc gets a call from his Company contact who informs him that nothing like that will ever happen again and to be sure that he knows they are serious, to go look in the box in the basement of the hotel. Sure enough, it's a dome piece...but of who? Of Sarah. The show did a terrible job of building the suspense around that, so I felt it was only right for me to do the same.

So Sarah is dead. Linc won't tell Michael because he thinks Michael won't break out Whistler and therefore LJ will die too.

Not much happens after a few episodes until we find out that they have a plan and that they are going to make a break for it during the day. There are a bunch of holes in the plan as well as the show but they simply cover that up by getting you excited that something is going to happen after so many episodes of nothing. But it all comes down to the final 3 episodes.

In one, the plan is set, they're getting out in an hour and everyone gets ready...but then someone is killed in Sona and Whistler is the suspect. Lochero is about to kill him for doing it until Michael finds the knife that was used in Mahone's room. Of course, this happens as Mahone is being removed from the prison by the FBI (whole other story, not worth your time quite yet - long story short, to find out what he knows about The Company). Lochero thinks it's convenient that Michael comes forward as Mahone is leaving and decides Whistler is going to die...or so we think. While Lochero's men are holding Whistler, Lochero stabs one of his men instead thinking that was the killer..also, this dude smoked a cigar that Lochero thought dude stole from the big L (way too many pronouns going on here) and yada yada yada, the two douche bags look like their plan is going to work out.

Nope. The afternoon diversion they planned (soccer game) is cancelled due to the solemn mood of Lochero...This is also the time when Linc finally tells Michael about Sarah being headless. He says he loved her and this and that and it's pretty much just the worst writing ever/the reason I love this shows. It's just awful. Michael claims it's all Whistler's fault and chicken foots this mofuka. The breakout is supposed to happen at 3:13. The fight is supposed to be at 3:15. Michael gets his diversion.

The plan is to climb out of a cell, run across the yard, through a fence that has been compromised and to the beach where Linc has supplies. The run was to be possible because the guard would be unable to look in that direction due to the sun and the other guard was slipped something in his coffee by Whistler's chick whose been helping Linc. So all of this is working and Michael and Whistler get onto the yard until the clouds come out and block the sun. They get back inside before the guard notices but this means they have to go fight. They can't get the rope ladder untied before Lochero's boys find them roaming around the cells as if trying to avoid the fight, so Whistler stashes the ladder on the window sill.

Now they have to fight and one has to die. They try the whole "we settled our differences" stuff but the rules are clear that once you drop the chicken foot, you fight. So they fight like chicks until finally Whistler has had enough and is going to kill Michael with a rock to the head when.....the guard notices a ladder that has fallen out of a window. The alarms sound and the guards come in. When the guards come in, everyone kneels with their hands on their heads. One of Lochero's boys gets blamed for it and is murdered by the guards.

Now is a good time to tell you that there is something mysterious about Whistler. It's been asked all season but no one really knows. Is he Company? Is he just a fisherman like he claims? He says The Company want him to show them where he took this random dude on a fishing trip and that's why they want him out. Riiiiiiiight. So the episode ends with him talking to the chick who has been Linc's contact and we get the idea that he is in fact company.

The last episode dictates that The Company is going to take the prison by storm and get Whistler out themselves. Due to the latest escape attempt, Lochero has lost all of his respect in the prison and tells Michael that he will break both of them out of the prison. Of course, the original plan is shit now and what are they going to do. Lochero takes them (Michael and Whistler) to an underground tunnel where they can dig their way up and out..perhaps.

Michael is obviously in the dark about Whistler's plan. Whistler is supposed to kill Michael before he leaves, per the Company chick orders, but he ends up getting rid of the knife he was going to do it with...true love after all.

Anyway, Whistler pulls some sort of claustrophobia act and leaves the tunnel. When the helicopters fly overhead, Michael figures it out and runs after Whistler...who is now on the roof of a building. As a ladder drops down from the chopper and Whistler jumps on, Michael grabs a hold of him. Eventually, they both drop down to the roof from the ladder. The sirens are going again and everyone is totally fucked now. Some of the Company are dead. Lots of guards are dead...and most inmates are really confused. Whistler takes his shirt off to avoid being easily identified/show his rock hard abs...no homo. Michael also changes his shirt...into a shirt that looks exactly the same. COME ON DUDE. YOU'RE A FUCKING GENIUS AND THIS IS THE BEST YOU CAN DO? Christ.

Anyway, they get brought out and everyone is lined up on their knees with their hands on their heads. The guards come in, but it's not the same guard as usual. This guy is a little older and dressed in more of a secret ops kind of uni. They open fire on all of the inmates and kill everyone...except for Michael and Whistler. Pretty gruesome.

and totally false.

Well, the secret ops guy is true, but they don't kill anyone. The dude comes up to Michael and says that he is leaving Sona because there have been 2 escape attempts in the 2 weeks he's been there and that can't be a coincidence....and this is where our season ends, with Michael being escorted out.

Scenes from the next have you believe that Michael is simply chained up outside Sona, so we don't really know where we stand. Here's a quick rundown on where people are at this point:

Lochero is alive and losing power
T-Bag is now in Lochero's crew but clearly setting himself up for something - and he only has 1 real hand
Sucre is helping out Linc
Whistler's girl pulled a gun on Linc so he bailed on her, but now they are back plotting stuff again
LJ is still captive
The chick from the Company is now drinking because the plan didn't work and assumes she is going to be killed by her boss.
Bellick is still in Sona and no one likes him
Mahone was not viewed as a credible witness (due to a drug problem) and is on his way back to Sona

So there you have it. Prison Break fall season is over. The show is so good and yet awful due to it's terrible writing. Those writers should not be allowed to strike.

That was really long and took an hour. I hope you liked it Timmy.

Lastly, I just don't get the love thing between Michael and Sarah. They never on screen boned, they've spent a collective few days together tops...so I guess they boned...but they're just on their "honeymoon" per se. I bet they can't even poop in front of each other comfortably yet. I also bet that she still made him wear condoms. Can you trust a person that makes you do that? Honestly, can you?

I guess that had some really amazing bond built by their ability to understand the codes each other communicated in while they were separated and communicating through the media and all that good stuff.

But still, love? really? If he had never been locked up he could have been boning all sorts of random hoes and she would have been just another one. So don't give me this whole "I was rehabilitated in prison because of you" crap because it just wasn't true. She was new pussy and everyone loves that.

I apologize to the doctor for the above sentence. Obviously, I didn't mean it. I have an obligation to the readers to write stuff like this otherwise people will think I've gone soft.

What's it matter. No one has read this far down anyway.

Kickball Champions of the World!

2007-11-13T15:37:00.000-05:00

Sort of. First off, we tied for the division title. Secondly, we have to win in Vegas to be the champions of the world and even that is pushing it since who knows what kinds of kickball leagues they have going in North Korea and China. They could be genetically mutating their kickball teams right now to ensure that they dominate in the 2016 Olympics. True story. Well not so much the doping of kickball players, but that kickball will be in the 2016 Olympics. It's pretty crazy I know, but you can read all about it here.

Well, that was fun for me.

So we had a radtactular day on the kickball pitch. It was kind of chilly but nothing too unbearable. Our first game started off well with our team putting up 7 runs in the first. The game plan for the first two games was score runs early so I only have to pitch the first inning so my arm won't fall off. This worked great in the first game. 7 run lead immediately meant that I got to play center field, where nothing traveled all year. So I ran around and tried to distract as many participants as possible. As our pitcher would wind up, I'd spring into the infield on the off chance that a bunt was laid down. Basically all this did was ensure that I got in the way of every fielder, including the one time where I took the ball from the catcher, spun to throw a runner out at 3rd but just ended up pegging him in the head in the end. It almost led to a run because I thought there were two outs but there was really only one. Oops. No run would score that inning. phew.

So we won the first game something like 11-1. We were pretty happy but I got out twice so I was excited to get to the next game. We had a 1 hour bye with highlights including Chaz showing up near the end of the bye and declaring himself our coach. He proceeded to hang out the rest of the day and provide moral support as well as inform us how pathetic our league is because we don't pitch underhand and people bunt. He's right...but, since it is how the game is played, why not excel at it as best as you can, right? right.

So the next game started with an easy top of the inning and I was looking forward to scoring a few runs and playing around in the outfield. I come up with bases loaded, no outs and sure enough Mister Anti Clutch rolls up and pops into a double play. Nice work. I missed him so much. 3 innings later, the score is still tied 0-0. In the bottom of the 4th we finally break through with 4 runs, no thanks to me, and that means I get out of pitching 1 inning. We win that game about 4-0.

At this point, I am pissed off. I haven't been on base all day and I just fucked over the strategy by having to pitch most of the 2nd game. Naturally, there is only one solution...to the bar! and off we go. I decide that it's time to get back to some roots. I must be getting too kickball cocky I determine and decide it's time to take a page out of season two of The Wire: shot and a beer Delores. So I order up a shot of Jack and a King and we're off to a better place. As the bye comes to an end, I pound another half beer and start to feel like a kickballer should.

The next game is against SAYD Libre, who we beat 3-0 earlier in the year but was sure to be ready to battle us today. Our team is happy, excited and definitely just enough drunk to play well. As the higher seed, we pitch first and I was throwing flames. I felt no lingering affects from pitching the game before and was throwing better than I had at any point in the year in the first inning. They get a runner or 2 on but no runs score. We come up and I think there is one out, maybe 2 when I come up but I drill a shot on the ground to short and make it safely to first. It felt nice but it was great to hear my team support me with a chant of "1 for 5! 1 for 5!". I get moved over to second at some point and there are two outs. Timmy comes up and drills another shot where I put mine and I round 3rd and score...only to be told I left early and am out and the run does not count. I did not agree with the call, but I was not about to argue because who can be sure/who really wants to argue with a kickball ref?

Yelling at a kickball ref is like feeding a 300 pound teenager a salad. It's not going to help anything. The fat kid is just going to eat 4 Twix bars after the salad and remain fat and the kickball ref is just going to make a wiseass comment and make you feel stupid. Why waste your time, right?

Why do I know so much about this? Well, last Wednesday when I was watching kickball, I had to ref the first inning of a game due to another game going into extra innings. Big George got to ref first base too. It was frisbee crossing over with kickball and it was the greatest thing that had happened in my life between the time of 8:01 pm and 8:02 pm of that particular night. So this dude rounds 3rd and slides into home only to be pegged. I call him out and he gets up and screams at me, "No way! I was safe" to which I get to say loud enough for all to hear, "I entirely disagree with you". It's the perfect forum to make a douche feel like a douche...and I took it.

So I didn't want to look like a douche in front of everyone, so I just went back out to the mound....and SAYD scores to tie it a 1.

As the game goes on, we manage to score a second run somehow, I think on an error, and we are able to shut them down the rest of the game. QP Live qualifies for Vegas!

So we're going to play Scoregasm in the finals. We beat them 8-0 earlier in the year and we knew that it was not going to be that way this time....in fact, we didn't get a runner on base until the 4th inning. The got someone most innings but were never able to make a serious threat until late. Once we got runners on, we made some threats. In the bottom of the 5th inning, which is typically the last inning, they intentionally walked our leadoff hitter to load the bases with 2 outs to pitch to one of our girls. She got the ball in play, but the runner was thrown out at home and into extras we went tied 0-0.

At this point, I was about done. It was cold, both pitchers were dominating and my arm was about ready to fall off. During the SAYD game I strained my lats (which are still killing me Jack, thanks for asking). After that inning ended, I ran to my bag, took some Advil and dropped bunch of Icy Hot on the spot. It burned oh so badly but felt pretty good after the burning went away.

So entering the 6th inning, it's getting dark out and neither team really feels confident that they will score a run. We all decide that it's best to just play this game until it gets too dark and hopefully someone will have scored a run by then. Usual kickball rules state that you play 1 extra inning and then go to a rock, paper, scissor to determine the winner. Neither team wanted to do this at all as it is a stupid way to determine a champion.

In the top of the 7th, Scoregasm got some runners on and managed to get a runner to 3rd with 2 outs. We were able to get out of that jam but couldn't really do much in the bottom of the inning. As the 8th inning started, it was getting noticeable darker by the second but we went on. We got a quick out but then they managed to load the bases with 1 out. The next batter I think fouled out but I can't remember. So we're almost out of the jam and one of their ladies comes up. So it's cold out, we're in the 8th inning, you can't really see and I've lost the ability to squeeze the ball due to my hand and arm killing. So I pitch the ball and am lucky enough to get a grounder back to me. I charge it as our catcher covers home and go to throw him the ball...only the ball goes about a foot further to the right than I meant for it. Thanks to a game saving play by our catcher who stretches to make the catch while remaining on the plate, I don't blow the game for us.

We come up in the bottom of the 8th and I'm pretty sure nothing of value comes out of it. So it's too dark to continue, neither team wants to continue and no one wants to come back and do it another time. We decide to split the championship and everyone seemed pretty damn happy about it. I know I was.

So then it's time to pack up...the only problem with this is that I could get my cleats off. I couldn't undo my laces on my cleats due to a lack of any strength whatsoever in my arm. Once again, Coach Chaz comes through and helps undo the double knot on the cleats.

So it's now 3 days since the end of the tournament, my lats are still killing me (Jack, thanks again for asking) and my arm hurts when I put anything in my right hand. Instead of pitching 2 games, I pitched what turned out to be 18 innings, so almost 4 games worth of pitching. 1 run allowed all day by me. Not too shabby...though my arm is very happy to be entering the off season.

After all this excitement the last few months, it's great to finally have everything over and done with. No frisbee, no softball, no kickball, just work and Law & Order: SVU/CI episodes with a little bit of Prison Break thrown in there.

A Prison Break season recap is on the horizon in the coming days. I didn't watch last night's episode yet, so when I do, I'll get back to you about it.

That and I bought Nintendo Wii with all the money I made off of this blog.

Purgatory

2007-11-09T15:36:00.000-05:00

wow. what started as just another day has turned into 48 hours of pure misery and hell.

first, we lose to nWo 1-0.

then my work

BACK UP! WHAT THE HELL? WE LOST TO NwO?

crap. yes. yes we did. oops, i guess? QP Live and Me: Brought to you by the Faygo Nation has lost. I'm not sure what is more depressing, us losing or the Isotopes losing during the Dancin Homer days. I'm going to go with equally tragic since we're comparing a cartoon to kickball, which, if you think about it, are both similar in the way that they are great for kids to enjoy and kind of fun to laugh at adults who continue to enjoy them.

So we lost.

It was a pretty good game. I would say the reason they won was that their pitcher and catcher played great D, their first basemen never had that crucial error and their third baseman, while definitely the angriest man to ever walk the earth, was fast as hell, played amazing D and was fast as hell. Our leadoff hitter had started every game of the year by getting on base...but the 3rd basemen charged the ball perfectly and then pegged our guy out just before he hit the bag. It was intense...well, as intense as kickball gets anyway.

From there, it was just a battle. They scored their run on a base hit to the outfield with 2 outs after the same angry giant got to second on an "error". Our first basemen was upset for not letting a short pop up go foul. In the effort to catch it, the spin on the ball, plus how low it was made it really hard to catch and it popped out of his hands. He touched it while he was in fair territory, so it was a fair ball and the dude made it to second. In the end, we just couldn't make the plays that would have earned us a victory.

We had 2nd and 3rd with no outs and hit into double play. In the last inning, we had a guy on first with 1 out and on a bunt, he got thrown out at second. We ended up with 1st and 2nd, but we got called out on a close play at first on another bunt. If she had gotten on, I would have come up with the bases loaded and 2 out. It would have been scary. I'm getting nervous just thinking of that situation...but it would have been wonderful to come up in that and possibly kick in the winning run. Because that's what we do at QP Live and Me dot blogspot dot come. We kick things in places people can only watch and react to...usually it's something in the house and the doctor looks at me like I'm acting like a 3 year old, but it can translate to kickball.

So I wasn't too upset...but I was looking for a place to take out my anger. I've never masturbated harder in my life than last night. I drew so much blood and lost so much skin that it was just hand on exposed muscle by the end. Needless to say, I ended up at the ER last night with a bleeding crotch. I wasn't all that embarrassed though. I'm practically Opus Dei, so pain is how I atone for kickball sin.

None of that is true.

I did eat stuff crust pizza for dinner. I was riding my bike home and going over the list of usual dinner spots and was getting frustrated. Then I remembered the stuff crust pizza commercials I've been seeing while watching 20 episodes of Law & Order: CI / SVU in the last 2 weeks and said out loud while riding "OH HELL YES". It was good and all, but it's never like the commercial where the bitten cheese is holding onto the yet to be torn from the family cheese that remains in the crust...ya know? Like with mozzarella sticks. Man, those are good too. I like cheeeeeese.

So I was able to get over the loss after having trouble falling asleep and then waking up an hour early with it still on my mind by realizing that we can have vengeance so soon....and it is vengeance that I seek....because we get to play 4 games tomorrow. Our tournament, should anyone want to come and heckle/hang out/watch kickball? is at 18th and California on the fields at the Marie Reed Community Center. Our first game is at 11. If we win, the next is at 1. If we win, the next is at 3 and then the finals are at 4. Roll up bitches.

So I was moving on and the day was going slowly but then it came to a halt...because of my work.

Today is a bad day at work.

Today is the day at work that I lost streaming capabilities, so no more Howard Stern Show. Today is the day I lost gchat abilities, so no more seeing awesome gchat away message videos...and even if I find a way around that, today is the day where You Tube and all other video websites have been blocked by our IT. No facebook. No nothing fun. This has yet to be ripped from my cold dead fingers, but how far away can it really be?

Kickball Day

2007-11-08T13:47:00.001-05:00

I almost don't know how it handle it. After last Thursday's post, I had text messages, e-mails and face to face questions wondering if we beat nWo.

At this point, everyone who cares would know that it was postponed. Until tonight.

It's cold. It's cold outside. It's cold in my office. It's cold in my heart when I question myself on taking this game easy. Unless we give up 12 runs or more, the worst we can be going into the playoffs is second place. We're not playing for that though. We're playing for #1. We're taking this game just as serious as we took the SAYD and Scoregasm games...just watch:

The team we're playing has been on our nuts all year. Well, maybe not the entire team, but their captain. In the beginning of the season, we laughed and enjoyed his hands cupping the collective balls of our team. It was warm, gentle and generally pleasant. Now, with the new cold weather, it's a nuisance. His hands are cold and that makes our balls shrivel. We don't want to play with him anymore and we'd rather quiet him up for good at this point. Essentially, we're taking our balls and going home...no homo.

On paper, it should be a good game. Both teams have won all their games (8-0), both teams have scored a bunch of runs (QP-72, nWo-57) and both teams have not been scored on that much (QP-2, nWo-13). On paper, it's a pretty good match up with QP Live the slight favorite based on runs scored and runs given up. But that's paper....paper always gets fucked by scissors and we're going to dice these mofukas up something lovely.

These guys have not played anyone all season. Combined wins of their opponents: 20. Combined wins of our opponents: 30.

Sure, the schedule maker didn't know they were going to be as talented as they turned out to be but enough is enough. Will their brute force be enough to match our brute force? Can they handle our finesse? After seeing some of the games last night, I can tell you the ball doesn't travel all that far when kicked. It's going to make for an interesting display. QP is an all around team. Is nWo? No one knows because they haven't played anyone.

So now they get what they want. A match up with the top team in the division. A team that has been at the top of the league since it's first ever season. A team that has won a title in it's second season ever and has not lost since the first game of season 2. We're riding pretty high and we're playing pretty focused. I'm calling this one for QP Live.

Abby and Steve at a B&B

2007-11-07T16:47:00.001-05:00

B-O-N-I-N-G

They got married...recap time biotch! A little delayed and probably a lot forgotten. The good times.

For me, the wedding prep started at 3 pm on Friday as we tried to get to Potomac, MD for the 4 pm rehearsal. Being DC, this proved impossible. After an hour of traffic, going right when we should have gone left, no numbers on any signs and a church hidden behind construction and trees, we arrived at 4:35, just for the very end of the ceremony. In an effort to blend in in no way shape or form, I couldn't help but call one of the groomsman out for wearing jeans. Not that I cared he was wearing jeans, more than anything I was jealous, but it was just a knee-jerk reaction (#1 of the weekend). To add to this, it's not like I waited for a break in the rehearsing before blurting this out either. I just said it the second I felt in....asshole.

Moving on to the rehearsal dinner, of which we had no trouble getting to, we enjoyed a fine feast in the Admiral Room of Old Ebbit Grill. If you've never been there before, treat yourself one day. I recommend lunch, as there are plenty of affordable options there then. Typically, you can get a delicious meal for $15 or less. Much less for a burger or sandwich and around $15 for an entree type plate. I work right by the restaurant, so I've been there a bunch for lunch. This was my first dinner there and it was great. The room we were in had its own bar, fully stocked, and we had the choice of crab cakes or NY Strip steak. I stripped it up and it was big...and delicious.

After dinner, we all hit up one of the Old Ebbit bars where we took over fairly easily. Of course, this is a classy restaurant, so they do things like refuse to serve a person another beer who is working on a full beer...especially after the person with the full beer accuses the bartender of being racist for asking for id. oops. Also, they don't care if you're getting married the next night, you're still not allowed to engage in yelling contests. Damn classy establishments. The line of the night goes to one of the groomsman who said, after being bumped into and receiving a choice comment from another patron, "how about i jerk off all over your face." First of all, that's just an amazing line to come up with out of the clear blue. Secondly, that's a very simple way to escalate matters. Since I am always aware when troubles abrewing (my own spidey sense) I turned around to the guy yelling and pointing at the groomsman and say nothing more than, "Walk away, it's a wedding". I turn back to my conversation with Saint Balog who informs me she is shocked to see me playing the mediator. What can I say, I guess I'm growing up?

Of course I'm not. That night ended with an hour straight of MarioKart where I obviously dominated the competition....and we worked in a Mac & Cheese break.

Saturday started off pretty sweet. I woke up and played some MarioKart again with Bach and Milf. Off to breakfast we went and then off to the hotel I went to get to the church early. We arrived at the church about an hour and a half before the wedding so that we could relax, get pictures taken, eat a little and drink some champagne. We were told no men were allowed upstairs to ensure that no one would see the bride. Naturally, when the ladies went out in the garden to get their pictures taken, they were right outside our window. Immediately, I start yelling, Wurtzel jumps up into the window and bangs on it in an effort to scare the beJesus out of them and the others tell Steve not to look left as they close the blinds. Before the blinds closed, however, we got a wonderful show of 7 bridesmaids moving as one to completely surround the bride and make her invisible to even a spy satellite. Great job done by all.

So the wedding started late because one of the shuttles "got stuck in traffic" and was an hour late for a pick up. I've yet to be at a wedding where the shuttles knew what the fuck they were doing, so I'm going to go ahead and say they are liars and can go f themselves.

However, the wedding goes wonderfully and then people are off to the reception. The wedding party stayed behind to take some pictures. When the guys were done, one of the groomsman serenaded us with some music stylings on the piano...of RBI Baseball, Kid Icarus, Zelda and many more Nintendo games. Then he moved onto TV shows and I could have died happy then and there. Apparently, he can listen to a song and just be able to play it. It was an amazing performance not soon to be forgotten.

And off to the reception we go. It was at a nice French restaurant in Potomac and went extremely well. There were drinks, dinner, dancing and all the other D words you can think of that go with a wedding. I'd love to tell you about this story or that story that occurred at the wedding, but I don't think anything too hilarious happened. Everyone had a great time and generally I don't think a wedding could go any better...

The after party was at a wine bar at 22nd and P and I can say that we entered the gay ghetto and walked out without bleeding out of any of our orifices. Generally, a great night always happens when you don't leak blood.

YIKES.

Sunday meant brunch at 10:30, but also meant that the clocks fell back so we woke up way to early...no worries though, that left plenty of time for MarioKart.

The brunch was a good time. A bunch of people were there and it's always fun to catch up with all of the out of town guests before everyone leaves you and depresses you for 3 days. Knee-jerk reaction #2 of the weekend occurred when a girl came in wearing a black coat that had numerous pockets all outlined in white. To me, she looked like the skeleton costume used in the karate kid...however, due to my hungover/caffeine infested state, I blurted out "That's the ugliest coat I have ever seen."

It would have gone over a lot worse had my entire table not turned at once and stared at the girl. At first, she was unsure if it really happened, but then she saw everyone looking at her and we made eye contact for a few seconds. She left.

I felt bad because I didn't dislike the coat all that much, but it just came out...is that why it's called a knee-jerk reaction? Probably...but also probably not. Interesting.

That's pretty much where everyone said their goodbyes and hugged it out like champs.

I went up to Adams Mill a few hours later and watched football. Highlights included:

1. 30 seconds after I get there (at 2:30) a Redskins fan verbally assaults a Patriots fan. Then a friend of his who is a Cowboys fan says something in his ear and the Skins fan proceeds to pick up a stool in an attempt to chase him around the bar. The stool top breaks off, but the guy picks up the stool anyway but is restrained by the bartender...and fed a shot. Interesting philosophy/this is why I love this bar. This was the largest and loudest guy in the bar, so when he spoke, everyone listened/pissed themselves. He was pretty friendly...even when he told Chaz that he gets half of everything Chaz gets because they live in the same neighborhood and nothing happens without his consent...that includes women, money and apparently chicken wings. This guy was pretty awesome.

2. The aforementioned Pats fan decides during the Pats/Colts game that he is going to talk shit to Chaz because, apparently last week, Chaz said the Skins could beat the Pats. Because no one likes this kid, the entire bar turns on him (which, at this point, is 15 Skins fans, most in jerseys, and all wasted). He starts talking shit for the sake of talking shit and the bartender has to come over and settle the situation down...which he does until he starts calling the kid a bitch. But you can fight/argue with the bartender, so we all laugh at this end for about an hour straight. He gets the last laugh because the Pats won, but no one really cared about the game.

3. Abby's parents came to the bar for about 30 seconds. Abby's mom looked absolutely terrified and they left just as soon as they came. Either way, it was nice to seem them show up.

4. Chris Bach was at the bar and told me I should have warned him more about the situation we were walking into. Basically, this is a bar of alcoholics...I mean, who else gets hammered on a Sunday? And they are also big and loud, which makes this bar amazing. The only way I remember any of this is because I drove so I would not get wasted.

So that was the wedding recap. Over even sooner than the wedding itself.

Setting records one post at a time...

2007-11-02T12:46:00.000-05:00

2 in 1 day! 3 in 2 days!

It's sensory overload.

I write only briefly. I wanted to share with you some pictures from Halloween present and Halloween past.

First off, shot out to Spud and his lady for getting in the Express in the costume section. They were dressed as K-Fed and Brittney in a custody dispute. It's funny because it's topical...though it is no Papa Smurf.

But here is a photo of my niece, Vivian Quick, as she celebrates her fourth Halloween.

Doesn't she look pretty awesome in her costume? I particularly like how happy she looks in her costume.

I say that because of this:

Halloween 2k5. That's probably one of my most favorite pictures of her.

I'm late on this but I wanted to write and say happy halloween. I think it's my most favorite holiday of the year. People are dressed funny, usually folks are in a good mood. The weather is always perfect around this time of year (not too hot or cold).

It's my favorite time of year by far. This year I didn't get to do anything. After the success of Papa Smurf, I refuse to put together shitty costumes. I have a great goal in mind, but it defintely requires construction and therefore, I was not about to put together a half assed costume.

But until next year. I'll leave you with an oldie but goodie:

We did not win

2007-11-02T11:01:00.000-05:00

Second season in a row our games get canceled due to no light...meaning, no win.

It's tough because we showed up, were all ready to go (pumpkin lit and everything) and then as I am walking to the mound to throw a few warm up pitches, the lights go off. My first thought was to throw the kickball up into the lights and break them. After all, it's their fault that they went out, right? Then my second, and acted on, thought was to throw the kickball at the pumpkin. I missed, narrowly, but I think that is a good thing. I'm pretty sure we have better things in store for that pumpkin, so I'm glad I missed.

Last season, there was some issue with the people at the pool not being there or something, and that's why we had no lights. I heard that we had no lights this week because we physically didn't have the contract to show the pool people. The word is we re upped the contract this week and it has yet to be faxed over. As a result, I guess the pool people (keepers of the ever important light switch) just figured we were trying to screw them over...because we haven't been out there every Thursday since April.

Good old DC. Never underestimate the willingness of others to completely not give a fuck about you in time of need.

And this was a very worthy cause. It's for kickball dammit. It's to drop nWo on their ass. Oh well. It might have been a good thing though because I ate dinner before I rolled up and definitely felt pretty terrible going into the game. Not that it would have really affected my performance all that much. After all, showing up hammered isn't much different that showing up full from a delicious homemade meal of Indian food.

But I got to thinking about other kickball stuff yesterday. With all this talk about nationally ranked teams, teams getting stronger by picking up players from other teams and power matchups, why not put together a powerhouse league?

At this point, I'm looking at all of the random kickball people who read this and asking them to help pull this off.

We play on Thursday nights in the spring division DC Liberty. There is a rumor going around that one of the top teams from a Wednesday night league is playing in our division in the Spring. Our division already has 3 ranked teams plus 1 watch list team. If OIP comes into our division, that's 4 powerhouses...but why stop there? Why don't we get a powerhouse division together so we can all play top competition going into Vegas? It would prepare us all even better. It would give us an idea about how we all stack up together. On top of that, after 12 weeks of tough games and getting drunk together, it will make playing in Vegas all that much more fun.

So I'm looking at most of you pink fuckers who occasionally imbibe on this bitch and asking your opinions. Maybe get a k365 post going on some crazy ish.

Kickball weekly

2007-11-01T15:18:00.000-05:00

This is the end.

My only friend, the end.

DA DA DADA DADA

The end of the kickball regular season that is. Tonight, 8 pm, on the worst fields in America, QP Live and Me: The Untold Faygo Nation Story take on nWo in a battle of "Will nWo please shut the fuck up already". But in reality, we have our last regular season game and we play an undefeated team. Since they were an known team going into the season, the schedule makers only scheduled one tough game for them all year...us. Thanks.

It's no big deal though. They are a collection of experienced players but a brand new team, so no one really knew what they were capable of. They look more like the inmate team from the movie Necessary Roughness...meaning, they are not your average kickball finesse team. They are all much bigger than anyone on our team and most of their strategy seems to be based around brute force. I like that in a team because that's what my game is based around. This reminds me of Police Academy 6 when Hightower has a punch for punch battle with the equally large criminal in the back alley. It was a pure slugfest and obviously Hightower comes out on top.

I'm pretty sure that no one on here knows anything about that movie. I loved all of the Police Academy movies, even number 6. Some would say they were all bastardizations of the first one and those people might be correct. But those people would also be on my to kill list for speaking poorly of Commandant Lasard and his unit...no homo.

After this week, the playoffs start. Next Thursday is the first round and depending on how things go tonight, we will play either the 14th, 15th or 16th ranked team. If we win, we get the 16th place team. If we lose and give up at least 8 runs or something unheard of currently though impossible, we would likely take the 3 seed.

I get nervous before most kickball games and usually assume that my team will lose. It's nothing personal to my team. It's the way I've been since I was a kid. However, as a kid, I was always playing sports like soccer or basketball that every other kid in America played and therefore was slightly better than me or my teammates. Thanks to sports like ultimate or kickball, I don't have this problem anymore...and especially thanks to the 3 people that always kick ahead of me in the lineup and usually put themselves in a win win situation to score when I come up, I don't have to be nervous really at all in kickball. But it's a hard habit to kick.

I say this because I've been nervous before pretty much every game this year and the result has been a clear victory for us each and every time. So I'm going to go ahead and be nervous but calm myself by assuming we're going to score more runs than we give up and take the regular season title tonight....and an f-ing invite to Vegas.

Of course, if I play frisbee next year, people might give me trouble for missing a practice or a tournament to go to Vegas to play kickball. I like when this happens. It's similar to when ultimate players laugh at me when I tell them my team is nationally ranked in kickball (6th in the country, fyi) because there are national rankings for frisbee too...that are equally ridiculous.

At nationals last Saturday, we were playing Sub Zero in the consolation game after we lost in the quarters. Just before the game started, one of their players yelled out to someone saying, "hey, this isn't kickball". I couldn't help but yell back, "if you guys want to play kickball, I guarantee we will. I'm nationally ranked and I'm not even kidding". They looked at me with one of those "are you serious" type looks and we then unsure if I was kidding and even seemed a little nervous that I might be telling the truth. I think it was at this point where I finally realized I've been taking this a little too far.

Lets recap a bit:

I used to hate kickball before I started pitching.
Then I declared I wanted to shutout every team we played all season.
Then some kids quit and others said the team was no fun because some people take it too seriously.
Then I was informed some teammates thought I was going to freak out when I couldn't pitch a strike after showing up to a game nearly blacked out drunk.

All of that and it took some frisbee players being unsure of what a retard just blerted out to help me come to realization. Some would say I might have some problems. I might say I might have some problems.

But none of that is an issue right now.

Right now, it's time to take on nWo....and shut them the fuck out.

And we're back

2007-10-29T13:17:00.000-05:00

the season is finally over. i would say that a good percentage of the team was really looking forward to the season ending going into nationals. i think some of that is due to aches and pains, some due to have time to have a life and others just to get away from each other for a while. who knew that all it would take is finishing in 5th place at club nationals to change all of that. in the end, everyone seemed very happy with the season. there were some ups and downs through out the year, but i think that most people on the team would now agree it was all worth it.

so let's get to the blow by blow recap:

Wednesday evening:

The trip started at 20th and L streets in DC where i was riding up to BWI with Joe Lott, Joe Cuneo, Jack and Danimal. The plan was to drop the car off in columbia, md and get a ride from the UMD guys friend. Due to the rain, it took nearly 2 hours to get to BWI so we had to scrap that plan. Fortunately, we got to listen to the song "I'm the one that wants to be with you" by Mr. Big on the ride up to the airport...on repeat...for nearly 2 hours. The Joes find this kind of shit funny. I find it funny that they find it funny. I also find it drives me to nearly kill any and everything around me. It was fun at first and torture for the next hour and 25 minutes. We arrive in the airport in Tampa and almost the rest of our entire team is there. We get our vans and take off for the villas.

Thursday:

First day of games and we get to play last years runner up Furious George in round 1. Most of the players on our team had never played them before and we had no idea what we were getting into...but neither did Furious. We went up a break or 2 really early on and never looked back. They broke our offense I think only 1 time the entire game and that was on a dropped disc right near our end zone. We didn't play great (we had some drops and poor throws) but they matched us with those and just looked unprepared in general. We ended up winning 15-10. We had about an hour in between games and as we walked around the fields, we heard a lot of congratulations from various people on the big upset. It felt pretty awesome to win the first game of the tournament, especially since it took until the last round of day 2 to get a win last year.

Next round we played Sub Zero, the 5th ranked team. We got beat pretty bad. They just outplayed us. We didn't play much better than than Furious game, but Sub was prepared and played very well. It was never really all that close.

Last round of the day we played Chain Lightening from Atlanta. We lost that one too and this one was also not that close. Not much else to say.

At the end of day one, we were 1-2, going into the next days pool play with a 1-0 record because our win against Furious carried over. Chain and Sub finished 1 and 2 respectively in our pool and moved up to power pools. Furious and us went down to a lower pool with Rhino and Pike.

That night was pretty low key. We had a few beers at the beer garden, went back to the villas to shower and then out to dinner. On the way back from dinner, I climbed out of the sliding door of the minivan and pulled myself up to the roof of the car...all while moving. That was fun for me. People were curious why I had so much energy but the answer was pretty simple: I didn't play that much on day 1. About 9 or 10 points.

Friday:

Friday started against Pike. Last time we played them, we beat the life out of them in the 2/3 game at regionals. This would be different for a few reasons. First off, it was the first game of the day and Pike was fully rested. Secondly, this was probably the game they felt most confident they could win because we have played a lot of close games over the past 2 seasons. Lastly, they had some more of their top players healthy, so this was the first time we would see them at what I guess was 100%. They took half on us 8-6. All year, we have not responded well to adversity. Not because we felt we were out of games, but because we would get down on each other so quickly. This was the story going into halftime, but we refocused and started supporting each other on and off the field and rolled in the second half. I think we won 15-11 or 12. It was nice to see the team come together so well and be generally excited about winning a game we knew we should win. We really seemed to be enjoying being a team.

It was this game where I knew I would pretty much not play again for the rest of the weekend. I played 2 points in the first half and we got broken on both of them. I wasn't running well and was chasing my man around on D, which was obvious. It made me kind of miserable to play that poorly and I was not too pleased with it. I figured that if I played like shit in the little opportunity I had, that would be it...and it kind of was. On my points the day before, I felt I did fine and contributed as best as I could. This resulted in a few points a game. Starting Friday as slow as I did, there was no reason to expect more PT that what I had.

After Pike, we played Rhino. Going into the game, we knew that as long as we scored 11 points, we would be going to pre quarters. The game was close but Rhino took half I think 8-6. This game also featured a Stout v. Stout matchup as our team has Brian Stout and Rhino has Kevin Stout, Brian's older brother. They are both gargantuan human beings so it was a lot of fun to try to encourage both teams to huck it to which ever Stout when one was guarding the other. The only time this happened was when one of our D guys threw a floaty flick into the end zone from about 30 yards out. Both Stouts went up but Kevin somehow got the D. Oh well. As the game progressed, we were down 9-6 and I started to get nervous we would fold and not get 11. However, our D line got us some breaks and brought it to either 9-8 or 9-9. As the game moved on, we got it to 13-11...and then I got called in. I really didn't expect it and people started yelling at me for not paying attention. I was on the far sideline playing stupid sideline games with a few other guys when I heard I was in. I was happy to play but was pretty cold from standing around for over 30 straight points. Obviously, we got broken because that's what we do best when I'm on the field. I got to play the next one and we scored. 14-12. I think we broke them on the next point to make it 14-13 but on the next pull, they just jacked it to Kevin Stout who outran one of our fastest guys for the score. 15-13 final.

Due to the point differential we moved on to the pre quarters, which was pretty damn awesome. We played the Condors from Santa Barbara. We had played them in Colorado but both teams appeared to have different personnel going into this game. It featured a lot of point swings where we would break a few points and they would come right back. It was a fun game because there were only 4 games going on at the time, so plenty of people were watching us play...it's also fun to cheer "Truck Stop" on one sideline and "Glory Hole" on the other because it's fun to scream Truck Stop Glory Hole loud enough for the entire tournament to hear.

So I think they took half but we were all on serve. We came out and made some plays but they took over a little early in the second half. We regrouped and went on a run. It also started to rain pretty heavily and some thunder came out as well. During this, we went on a little run and as the first strikes of lightening came, we scored to make it 12-11. The game was then suspended 30 or 45 minutes for the storm to pass. We went off to shelter and did out best to stay focused. When we came out, we had 15 minutes to warm up. From there, we took off and scored 2 in a row to make it 14-11. Then the Condors scored to make it 14-12 and Truck Stop O was coming on the field. We usually don't close games out on the O line and it looked a little dicey early in the point. They had us pinned down near our own end zone for the first couple of throws but then we broke threw and moved the disc upfield. Eventually, Jammin threw an inside out backhand to the far end zone corner that Stout ran down and caught uncontested. TRUCK STOP IS GOING TO QUARTERS.

At that point, we were all ecstatic. We had done something that no one had expected us to do. I think it was the first time since 2001 that a team from the DC area made Quarters. It was a great feeling. It was also at that point that we knew we finished ahead of our regional nemesis, Ring of Fire...and that made us feel even better.

That night we tried to be smart and not drink that much. Last year, 85% of the team got black out drunk on Friday night but this year we were smart. We ate dinner and got to sleep pretty early.

Saturday:

We earned the right to play Sockeye in quarters. They are the defending champs. We lost to them on double game point in Santa Clara over Labor Day weekend, so we felt we had an outside shot...but we also knew it was a long shot. Well....it was 5-1 pretty damn fast. I think they took half 8-1 and then won 15-7. We were not happy with our first half performance but were pleased with our second half performance. We also had a very tight rotation in the game, so I definitely was not getting in. I wanted to play because it was quarters but I was being realistic...I guess.

So after we lost, we had a placement game against Sub Zero. Rematch time. Neither team warmed up and neither team truly cared about the outcome. I wanted to win because if we did, we could finish 5th. I was also told I was going to get to play a bunch in this game since we were eliminated. This made me happy but I was nervous because I was so cold from having warmed up and not played for over 2 hours. It didn't mater as we scored pretty quickly and I was able to warm up by playing consecutive O points. I was happy to play and felt fine...and I even got to throw a backhand huck for a score.

That's right. A backhand huck, upwind for a score. I was very pleased because it was a throw I had worked on all year and never felt I would be confident enough to throw it. However, the space was wide open, I truly didn't care if it worked or not because I had watched so many points all weekend and it was the first time I got to throw a challenging throw all weekend. I was doing it no matter what and it worked. It was a very good feeling.

We ended up winning that game by 1 or 2 and thought we might have another. Boston had beaten Chain in their consolation game and we were to play for the 5/6 game. By the time our captain got over to them to see if they wanted to play, most of their cleats were off and they were done. We accepted that and started to decleat. We also claimed they forfeited and said 5th place was ours. Also, we claim we are the unofficial 5th place team because Keven from our team beat Danny from Boston in a rock paper scissor battle.

So it was a great end to the season. I was kind of bitter because I thought I should have played more at Nationals. However, we finished 5th and it's hard to argue with that kind of success. My problem is that we played in very windy conditions all weekend and saw a bunch of zones. I didn't get to go into any of those situations and it frustrated the hell out of me. In the Sockeye game, they trapped us near our own end zone a bunch and we couldn't get throws over their D. I felt I could have dropped hammers all over the place all weekend and that game was no different. Oh well. If I play again next year, my goal will be to improve my foot speed and defense so that I am not considered a liability on a turn. I think that's the best way to get on the field...and possibly the only way on this team.

Then there was Saturday post game.

Immediately, we hit the beer garden. As we watched the semi finals, we had bought 5 cases of beer and got drunk at the fields. Then we went to the famous nationals bar Mr. Bigs where we took carbomb after carbomb. I was there for 2 or 3 hours and walked away an obliterated man. At the end of my time there, Damon bought 2 rounds of shots that I just didn't need. George and I walked to get some food and then called Nick to come pick us up as I pleaded with him to please please please come get me and take me away from the bar.

When I returned to my villa, my place was full of people. Worst case scenario. Why? Because in this situation, I was like a dog in a brand new environment that must run into everything in the room. I'm pretty sure I punched George and then ran away from him and hid outside on top of the car. I then came back in, hit him again and ran and tried to lock myself in the bedroom. George stormed in, threw me onto the bed, where I tumbled in between the bed and the closet, legs up. As he proceeded to pummel me as I was on the floor, Danimal tickled my feet to make it even more miserable. Then george put the mattress over my head and I called out for Jack for about 1 or 2 minutes until he finally helped me up.

From there, we hung out at our place for a while and then went to a party on the beach. I left that pretty quickly, went back to the villa and passed out of the night.

Sunday:

On Sunday, unless you are in the finals, you go back to the fields and watch the finals. As we were cleaning up, this guy asked me if I wanted his left over beers. The guy was heading to the airport and was going to throw them out. Obviously we want those. Then he came back and gave me a cooler full of beers (and the cooler) because his friends had left them when they went to the airport. sweet.

So we hit up Waffle House, then to the fields where we drank for a few hours. After that, we went to dinner on the way to the airport and eventually got home around 12:30 early monday morning.

The season is finally over. I'm sitting in my place right now pretty tired, with no voice and somewhat saddened that I won't have anything to keep me in tip top shape until next year. I don't even know if I'll play again next year. This season was a lot more fun than last year and I'd like to believe that I will play with Truck Stop again, but it's a very long season. If I was a top player who played half of every game, it would be no doubt that I'd be playing again. But I don't play that much. I put in the same time, effort and money that others do but I don't get as much out of it. I love my team and my teammate but it takes a toll on each and every player. I feel as if the team would not be affected with or without me, so really it will come down to do I want to do it all again. If I had to bet, I would bet on being there...but we'll see. i haven't had free time since March, so I'm pretty pumped about it right now.

Novel over. Season over. Truck Stop 5th place.

I could retire happy having that.

But what happens if we do even better next year?

Off we go

2007-10-24T14:18:00.001-05:00

I leave for nationals in about an hour. I can't tell if I'm calm, excited, nervous or what. Basically, I just want to get out there and play. We've been practicing for almost a month straight and I'm ready for some actual game time.

I went running yesterday and tried to focus on what to do in various situations on the field. Sometimes, I'm able to run extremely well and able to flow around the field. Other times, I am battling to keep my legs moving. In the latter situation, I usually find myself talking a lot in my head. Basically, I think it comes down to total focus vs. partial focus. While running, I was really trying to think about being on the field for the entire run. I was hoping this would carry me through me run. It didn't work so well for the first 2/3rds of the run. However, as I was on my way back, some of the college kids rode by me on their bikes on the way back from practice. This made me feel pretty good for a few reasons. For one, I really like getting seen out on runs by people that I know. It makes me feel good to know that people see me putting in the work to improve myself. The other reason was it reminded me about my roots in the sport.

I've been playing ultimate since the fall of 1999. Ever since high school, I knew that when I went to college, I wanted to play this sport. As the years have gone on and some of the fun has been taken out of the sport, it feels good to look back on the early years of my playing career. From when I was a D line player, or when my college team had a 21 man deep roster, to making our first nationals, to taking a group of over achievers that fell one point short of nationals in my senior year and watching them qualify the next year for nationals. To see the strength that the program has had over the years motivates me. Add to that that the kids I saw yesterday are 4-5 years younger than me and the only reason why we know each other is g-Dub ultimate.

That was what I really needed at the end of my run to get me ready for this weekend. I'm in the best shape I can be in at this point, I've had a couple of good weeks at practice and we're going to fucking nationals. I can't find myself in a better position than I am right now.

So onto the show:

We start tomorrow with Furious George who I have never played before. After that we play Sub-Zero and then Chain. We lost to Sub earlier in the year by a couple and we beat Chain on double game point. We have our work cut out for us, but that is why it is nationals. Every team is good. Every game should be close. In a close game, it comes down to who make the big play at the end of the game. We're definitely in a better position this year than we were last year to win some games. We have a better, deeper team and we've played a much stronger regular season than last year. Add to that, we're healthy. We got all of our top players who were out at regionals back, though we did lose our all world thrower to a badly sprained ankle.

So I think the Hole is ready to go. We're tired of beating each other up at practice. We're ready for any and all battles that will come before us.

In other news, I will be missing kickball on Thursday night, so there will be no angry kickball tirade before the end of the day tomorrow. Sorry to disappoint everyone...but get your costumes ready, Halloween is next week. I have a pretty good idea for a costume that could hang with papa smurf, but I don't know if I will be able to put it together in time.

The Meaning of it all?

2007-10-18T15:38:00.000-05:00

The subject line goes more towards the kickball portion of this post. But first:

And that era is over.

Breaking news across the Yankees world: Joe Torre will not return as the Yankees manager. It's sad because it's the end of an era but it was done the right way. He was offered a contract and declined. He was not fired. He was not not asked back (double negative = MONEY). He simply turned down the job and now we can all move forward.

Big questions remain, like will Mariano Rivera and Jorge Posada return now that Torre is gone? A-Rod? Pettitte?

This is probably my favorite part of the baseball season. I love all the off season chatter about free agents going here or there, big signing, no signings, all the rumors and the eventual blockbuster moves. All that drama is a lot of fun.

From the end of an era to the rise of another:

Tonight, the force that is QP Live takes on a team new to kickball. They will not win. I say this confidently, but I cannot guarantee it. Why? Because my plan is to be absolutely hammered going into this game. The game is at 8. Free happy hour sponsored by my work starts at 5. QP Live = very excited. I haven't been able to go out on the firm tab in a true happy hour setting in a little while and I missed it dearly. I'm not going to make up for it all at once, but I am going to get my adult beverage in both hands on. Cause that's how I roll (son).

So there is a high probability that I will fall over on the mound tonight. There is also a decent probability that I will get hit by a bus or car as I ride my bike to the game from happy hour. I'm assuming that should this happen, I'll be good and liquored up and not really feel any of that, so I'm not sweating it too much.

In other kickball developments, after out 8-0 victory of Scoregasm last week, it appears that we are starting to get more recognition around the league. I guess that's pretty cool..but it also adds a lot of pressure. Basically, as this recognition grows, our level of play must also grow...at least that's how I think. I don't want to be like g-Dub basketball in the 2005-06 season that went undefeated all year and got ranked as high as #3 in the country because when they lost, they plummeted in the polls because people knew they didn't deserve it.

With our kickball team, we've never balled with the top dogs, so what is required to pull this off? I'm just assuming that if we lose any game at all, we will get the tag that we were overrated and then I'll flip the fuck out and no one needs that...especially because it's kickball. Another result of the current recognition is that other players from other good teams want to play with us. This is great because it will only make us better, but at what point have we gone too far? Basically, with the talent we currently have and the talent we're debating adding I think our goal becomes winning the national tournament in Vegas rather than showing up and playing well. While that would be excellent, at what point have we gone too far? Will our team be nothing more than a collection of players without any true allegiance to each other? Or will our team still resemble the original team that played the first season we played back when we were QP Live and Me: The Untold Story.

Perhaps The Untold Story was the story yet written and that is what is unfolding before us. Perhaps The Untold Story is the journey before us on our quest to achieve kickball greatness while preserving our internal being at the same time. I guess I didn't know then, but that team name was perhaps the smartest thing I ever did...well that and not eating what I thought was a chocolate on the floor when I was 12 that turned out to be a bloated tick. That has to be pretty high on the smart list. I mean, it looked a lot like a chocolate and I picked it up and debated it but it looked a little shady. Then I tossed it back on the ground and it started walking...so good decision overall.

True story. Told Story.

Free the evironment!!!

2007-10-16T13:52:00.000-05:00

Well DAMN! If it's blog on for the environment day, I should probably get in on the action. For too long the environment has been held captive by all these pests with their aerosol spray cans and Styrofoam. No longer will the oppressive tyranny of the ground walkers be tolerated for today is blog for the environment...or something ridiculously fucking stupid like that. But, in the words of Toad, "Here I go!"

So I generally use the bathroom in the basement of my office building...almost 100% because the one on my floor is the most nasty place ever and is usually dominated by the 40 or so temps that sit right across from it...and the other 65 men who sit on my floor. It's just a terrible experience. I've walked in before, stepped one foot in and turned right back around. I think if someone saw me walking with a hand over my butt and I informed them that I was in fact walking like that because I had just merc-ed my pants because I couldn't take the odor coming from the bathroom, they would actually understand it and not even harass me about the fact that my pant leg was changing to a bit of a darker shade right before our eyes.

Anyway, so I go to this bathroom and almost every time I do, someone has filled up one of the toilets with toilet paper. This also happens to be the toilet that barely flushes in the first place, so I find this act very immature...somewhere below writing about pooing your pants instead of using a smelly bathroom and above dining on once passed corn. So I think that's pretty bad for the environment to waste the amount of water it takes for the requisite flushes to empty that.

Let's change course because I'm getting upset just thinking about it.

So if today really is blog on for the environment, I would also like to announce that today is the day that I jump the shark and actually post about that or something.

Nope. I can't. Problem is, I'm not entirely sure what I have to say is the intention of the blog on plan, so I'm just going to go ahead and do what I want.

In the last week, the lack of recycling in my apartment building has started to get to me. In my place, we go through a lot of recyclable materials....be they beer cans/bottles, aluminum cans that store beans or the like or even just newspapers. Growing up, my dad instituted a recycling program on the campus of the school we grew up at. Our house always had two or three garbage cans outside specifically broken up by type of material: can, glass or cardboard. Simply put, it makes sense to recycle. It doesn't cost you anything extra and it's not like it's hard to do. The problem comes when your city doesn't offer recycling. We just don't have it or at least no one has ever done anything about it in my building. I guess now is the time someone says, "hey, you can make a difference" and to that i would reply, "I can also make a paper airplane but it never flies right and gets me totally depressed. What would happen if I try and get recycling in my building and fail? Won't that kill a baby dolphin or something?" And now I have to ask you, do you want the blood of a baby dolphin on my hands? What about your hands? I don't think that's very good for the environment...do you?

So it's upsetting to have to tell people, "no we don't recycle, just throw it away."

There you go Willis.

Onto other things. We're approaching 6 months from the day where I officially tell the doctor SUCKER and she says yes. Can't wait. But this also means we're only a few months away from the first of its kind bachelors party. I know a few of the college lads have gotten married in the past few months and there is one in 3 weeks, but this is a little different. Take what usual debauchery happens at my birthday parties, add final hours of freedom pressure/willingness to break any and all laws and you have the first bachelor party for a collection of kids who spent their high school years high, drunk, stealing cars, crashing cars, crashing stolen cars and other general nonsense that any teen gets involved with. Now, combine that with the same kids only 8 years older...now add money to the equation and also take into account that though we have gotten older we have also gotten dumber and more brazen to pretty much the point where there truly is no line.

And then we have the start of the party. Only problem is, we don't have a place of yet. Shouldn't be that big of a deal though, right? It's not about location. It's about going to a location only to find out you don't know where you are, who you came with and definitely no idea of how you're going to get home. I guess that's the point.

This weekend is the first bachelor party I will attend. I guess I can take some notes from it or something, but it should be a good time. A college lad of mine is getting married to a college gal of mine. Lads and gals, coming together as one. The ladies are all heading up to NYC for "massages" and the guys are heading down to Ocean City, MD for "drunken acts" and "fat, whory strippers" who "hopefully won't put an attachment on my friends head" only I secretly hope the fat stripper straps an attachment to his head but loses her balance and does some sort of damage that we will have to explain to all wedding guests.

Just imagine it:

"Yes, that's right. The reason the groom can't feel the left side of his body is that the head strapped dildo he was using to anal penetrate the fat, yeasty stripper slipped a disc in his neck when the aforementioned stripper fell off the sex swing she was riding during the bachelor party."

That would be sweet.

we all just can't get along

2007-10-11T16:14:00.000-05:00

Usually, I'd have a rant filled post for you and the day of kickball. Especially today, as we match up against the force that is team Scoregasm. But that cannot be provided for today.

Our team is hurting due to internal rifts that are threatening the entire existence that is the team representing the Faygo nation. 1 player has quit, 1 is contemplating quitting, and many feelings are hurt.

There are rumors circulating that certain members have taken kickball too seriously and therefore taken all the fun out of kickball. There has been rampant speculation that players have not gotten to play in games at all. The league is apparantly bringing in the big guns to observe our game tonight to ensure we follow the rules after the player who quit went all deep throat on us and complained to the league.

So we are not without our drama. The questions is, will we be like the patriots and not be affected by the off field drama that was cameragate? Or will we be like the Falcons who got crushed in the super bowl the day after there defensive leader got busted for trial to pick up a prostitute the night before the big game?

I don't know which team we are. Originally, we thought it was the new players who were frustrated and we kept throwing them in the field every chance we got (once the game was clearly in our hands) to keep everyone happy. We forgot to keep playing the guys who have been with us for all 3 seasons and those are the ones who appear to be most upset. The was a big "oh man, we really blew that one" and it might be too late. I think a pow wow, hug it out bitch session might be in order.

Regardless, one of our players is not coming back. What's hilarious about this is that he is really, really really really really pissed off and most of it is directly squared at me. It's funny because this guy was so upset that not only did he call me a liar, say I assume people on our team are not good enough to play kickball (yeah, read that again...an armless midget is good enough to play kickball) but he also asked me to pay him his money back that he "wasted". Then he wrote an email to the kickball gods asking for his money back and saying he was quitting because he didn't get to play.

Things like this make me laugh. I'm not a huge fan of being called a liar but asking me to refund you is pretty bitch. What is unbecoming of a man, though, is to email the league rep and turn in your team for something like that.

Basically, we have yet to break any rules. The league rule is that everyone must kick. There are no field requirements. In the big games, we've kept a tight field rotation. In the easy games, we've opened it up, but left a few people out by accident. Some took it personal and let it stew. Others took it personal and when the captains sent out an email trying to explain the plan going forward, others wrote incredibly whiney emails and then cried to the league reps. Man up son, mommy's not gonna hold you as you cry and suck your thumb anymore...

Anyway, what the biggest complaint has been appears to be that we're taking kickball so seriously that we've taken all the fun out of it. I can understand that and I guess I believe it too. What I think is hilarious is that some of those complaining do not acknowledge that they take it seriously too. After all, if you didn't take it seriously, why are you so upset?

I'm told kickball is about socializing and beer. OK, see you at the bar. People pay $60 to play kickball. You get a t-shirt and beer specials. The permits likely only cost around $100 a night...so that's 8-10 weeks and roughly $1000. OK, there are 26 people per team...26 x 60 = 1560. So 1 teams dues go to the permits. The rest goes to beer specials at the bar...where the socializing and beer happen, right?

Essentially, it comes down to getting your nasties all wet and disease infested. It doesn't come down to whether you get to stand in left field as I strike out the kickers.

I'm sorry?

2007-10-09T16:37:00.001-05:00

I guess I should apologize for Beef Supreme for posting annoying comments about the success of the Patriots should Romo throw 6 ints. I know you don't care and I definitely don't care.

That being said, thanks for reading and commenting...

Now, I bet a bunch of you out there are thinking I'm bitter because the Yankees are out of the playoffs. In fact, the opposite is true. I've gotten quite used to these kinds of exits and I move on. Traditionally, I get frustrated during the playoff series and stress out a little. Once it's over, it's over. I stay mad for about 10 seconds and then I feel a little sorrow that I won't get to watch my favorite team a couple of nights a week. I watch the remainder of the playoffs and root for the feel good stories. This year, Cleveland and Colorado. And props to Cleveland. Absolutely amazing what they did with 2 outs and runners in scoring position (12 for 27). It was an amazing performance. How can you beat a team that is that consistent/clutch?

I read this article on espn.com today: http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=pearlman/071009&sportCat=mlb&lpos=spotlight&lid=tab2pos2

It talks about how it's no fun anymore to be a yankee fan because of the win at all costs mentality. I guess that's true for most people, but I don't feel that way. I used to until the Red Sox broke the curse. Then I decided it wasn't any fun rooting for my team and against another. Instead, now I just care about my team and take the good with the bad. Yeah, they lost...but they have 3 of the most talented young pitchers all starting for them next year. It could be a total disaster relying on that much youth...but it could also be the start of another dynasty formed in the same way that the successful franchises of today have formed...like Cleveland, Anahiem, Colorado and Arizona. They developed their teams over the past years and will be successful due to their young talent for years to come. This is also what the Yankees are doing too, only they have the payroll to keep the players once they qualify for their monster contracts.

This is their advantage to being in a huge market with shit tons of money. With their new youth, they can cut payroll. It will still be the most in the league and an absurd number, but at least they are starting to get fiscally responsible...and I think that's what people around baseball want from them anyway. The Yankees will always be hated for being the Yankees, but taking away one of the arguing points (payroll) would be sweet...at least from my perspective.

As for Beefies comment about Roger Clemens and the yankees paying him around $1 million per start...I felt fine about it then and I still do now. Nope, he didn't come through. Turns out he's 45 years old and it didn't work out for the Yankees...oh well. If they didn't have him, the yankees would have been starting guys who give up 4 home runs in a row for the entire season and ruin their confidence and make them useless in the future. Also, it gave me another season to root for one of the greatest pitchers of all time...it made me able to cheer on Roger Clemens. That was like rooting for Michael Jordan when he was in DC. It's just fun to do that.

I don't give a damn that they through all that money at him because it's not my money. I don't like dealing with the haters that complain about the amount of money they throw around, but if they make the playoffs every year and win the world series during my lifetime, well then that's just wonderful. Plenty of teams don't make the playoffs every year. The yankees were the only team to be in them last year and this year....that makes me happy...it would make you happy too if it was your team.

As for the future, here are some of my thoughts:

Torre will be gone. It's sad because it's the end of an era, but I think the time has come.

Rivera/Posada/Pettitte will be back

Clemens is gone.

Abreu is back

A-Rod signs a ridiculous contract but ultimately stays.

Damon gets traded.

That's what I'm thinking/like to see. We'll see how terribly off I am.

Sorry to bother you with another Yankees post, but it's the end of a wild season and I just wanted to let everyone know I feel no need to jump off a building.

Also, I think Jeter needs to be moved into the outfield and away from shortstop...just saying.

I'm not mad

2007-10-04T22:50:00.000-05:00

I'm just incredibly fucking pissed off right now. If you don't know what was going down today, please read the below post first.

Seriously...if you don't know, scroll bitch.

SCROLL BITCH.

Thank you. Fucking 2 runs scored. 4-2 final. 2 fucking runs. fuck. I'm not pointing blame, I'm just pissed. Goal number 3 is lost....gone. peace out goal number 3, i'll forever think of you after my arm falls off and all i can think about is how fucked you are. To catch you up: Goal 1: Win regular season title and earn Vegas bid Goal 2: Win league Goal 3: Shutout every fucking team. We gave up two runs against a team that struck out 4 times. IN KICKBALL. It's not hard to make contact with a big fucking red ball...yet some players felt the need to stroke my ego by literally swinging and missing. Here's a tip: Kick the big reg object coming directly at your feet (son). So the game started all money. First person up got out. Second struck out. 3rd made a sarcastic comment about how he was going to own me and then he got caught looking at strike 3. He was joking and just having a good time, but at least swing mofuka. Oh well. Congrat to Turn Your Head and Cough. It's the first time in 3 seasons that we played you and you got your 2 runs. Y'all played hard, had a fun time, didn't throw any bags full of hobo parts at anyone and I'm glad our paths crossed. I'm not happy you scored. I hope to play you in the playoffs or next season and throw at all of your heads for ruining the shutout streak. Oh the shutout streak. I miss you already. I'm not sure I'm hydrated enough to cry all the tears I want to cry tonight. After all, 3 shots of Jaeger, a bunch of beers and a doctors order to not drink this week later, how can one actually expect oneself to handle onself properly without using onself in a sentence 3-17 time? really, if you expect more, go fuck yourself.

Kickball quickie...

2007-10-04T15:50:00.000-05:00

Today is battle day. Not in nearly the same as last week, no trash talk going back and forth between teams, no rad videos in foreign languages with subtitles...none of that kind of stuff. However, every time we step on the kickball field, it is a challenge to keep the other team off the scoreboard. This week we are missing one of our best women and 2 of our free agent pickups. I don't like it when our main people miss games because it makes me nervous. The leader of Faygo nation claims that I have some kind of imbalance due to my neurotic kickball ways. I agree entirely with him, but with good reason: it's really stressful being on QP Live. Shit, it's stressful being QP Live, let alone with an entire nation bearing your name all in the fight to destroy every kickball team before you. This is serious shit.

The bar has been set pretty high this season. No runs allowed. If we win the regular season, we get an automatic invite to next years kickball tournament in Vegas. I've never been to Vegas before...not that I really feel an urge to go or anything, but it would be f-ing sweet to go and play kickball over Labor Day weekend. Going along with all of that, we are currently ranked 11th on the kickball365 rankings. This is only our 3rd season and we've been given the gift of notoriety...that means people don't look past us...rather, people look forward to playing us and trying to beat us. It's a lot of pressure knowing that every team you play is gunning for you and trying to take you down. I hate this only because on the 1% chance that a team not named Scoregasm actually beats us, people are going to be really excited to hear that QP Live went down.

I can't have that. The team can't have that. It's like shielding your children from all that is bad in the world. You don't want them exposed to that and I'm not trying to be the guy who causes this to happen. It's not for me. I don't want to see the message boards light up with glee that a powerhouse went down. I don't want to see the haters say shit like we are not for real. I don't want to see people say that we were prematurely put on the rankings...because I'm not done moving up that bitch yet.

I'm pretty sure I won't be happy with our ranking until we hit the top 5....and then, I want to see us in the top spot.

As for next week, well that will be an entire week of anticipation, build up and roughly 300 team emails (not exaggerating). Next week we play Scoregasm. They are currently ranked behind us because we beat them twice in the fall. They added some new players, just like us, and this is surely to be an incredibly intense game. But that's a week from now and I'm sure I'll bring it up plenty next week.

So for tonight it's on vs. Turn Your Head and Cough. They're an experienced team, though a few of their players may no longer be on the team after last weeks "hey, f u head ref, i'm throwing hobo on you now" altercation that went on between a husband, wife and guy with a visor. Truly tragic. Either way, they know how to play and are a threat to the shut out streak. Can't let that happen.

Fond memories

2007-10-03T14:05:00.001-05:00

There is no agony like watching a Yankees/Red Sox playoff series. There is no hatred to match it that I can fall back upon. Every shot of the Red Sox bench, every Red Sox fan, every Joe Buck comment about something positive about the Red Sox. Every Manny being Manny, every Cowboy Up, every stupid fucking word that comes out of every one of those fucking fans is brutal this time of year. Every time they show the clip of A-rod smacking the ball out of Bronson Arroyo's glove, every clip of tough guy Jason Varitek keeping his mask on when A-rod tried to break his face, every drip of Soul-Glo on Ortiz's jersey. All of it makes me sick during the playoffs. None of it bothers me before then.

So when you ask if I can stand another 60 hours of agony this year, I would say no, but I just feel so damn confident against the Red Sox this year. Maybe it's the fact that the Yankees finished in second in the division and therefore are not the favorites. Maybe it's that all of Boston's pitchers have gotten shelled by the Yankees hitters this year. I am getting way ahead of myself in that the Yankees and Sox both need to defeat very tough first round opponents, but should that happen, I'm actually looking forward to the series this year...that is, until it starts. Then the first paragraph comes back and makes me want to kill every Sully, every Fitzy, every Faust I see.

Well, not totally true. It makes we want to kill the girls I know who are Red Sox fans but don't know who actually plays for the team. One told me Mo Vaughn plays first base for them. That was literally 7 years ago.

I have this problem where this is my most favorite time of the year. It's a problem because I love it when the Yankees are in the playoffs and love it when it's over. If they win, it feels incredible. If they lose, it feels awful...but either way, it's over and I can relax for a few months. This year has been easier than others with the stress of leading a division off my back due to a slow start, but usually the season is a stress filled six month experience. It's easier to trail in the division. You don't have to constantly expect your team to fail. Ask a Red Sox fan which is easier. Up until this year, I'd bet they'd tell you that being in first is so much easier because you're in first and on top. I would always say how stressful it is to see your team lost and then have to watch over your shoulder as the second place team might have won and how everyone is claiming you will blow the lead. It's such a pain in the ass.

When you're in second, everyone rallies behind you because who doesn't root for the underdog? People are saying your team has a shot to catch up. Fans talk to each other about catching a few breaks and being on top. When you're on top, all you worry about is losing the lead. Fans talk to each other about how close you are to disaster. Rarely does it actually happen where the first place teams blows the lead (let's go mets) but until that final day, there is usually a lot of trauma associated with rooting for that first place team.

So am I looking forward to a possible 7 games series against the Red Sox? Sort of. Will I be happy when it's over? Hell yes. Will I break a chair, my laundry basket and tear a pair of work pants off that I am currently wearing in frustration? Likely not.

I was going to wrap this one up, but I guess I can't until I tell that story, right?

So in 2003, the Yankees beat the Red Sox on an Aaron Boone walk off home run in game 7 of the ALCS. Earlier in that game, the Sox had taken a big lead and I was convinced it was over, no matter how early in the game. I even got a call from the Junkyard Dog himself that said nothing more than, "Cowboy Up". I've never wanted to kill more than then. When Boone hit that homer, I called him back with the same words...he doesn't remember because he was blacked out.

In 2004, the Yankees and Red Sox met in the same series, but this time, the Yankees won the first 3 games. Then the Sox won the next 2 and it just felt like they weren't going to look back. Sure enough, they win game 6 also. At this point, the entire world is rooting for the Red Sox and therefore everyone is giving me shit as a Yankees fan. Urge to kill was even higher. Post game 6, I walk down into my room and am steaming mad. I'm also living with 2 Red Sox fans at the time, one of which who has converted his girlfriend into a Red Sox fan because she is happy when he is happy (even though she is from NJ) - F U Faust. Anyway, I walk, pissed beyond pissed off, into my room and try to sit down. That won't do it, so I pick up my laundry basket and heave it into my closet door. Closet door never recovers from the shock of being domestically beaten and therefore refuses to ever go back on its track again. Laundry basket never quite recovers.

Rage still burning. Must do more to calm down. So I walk into the basement living room and turn on the tv...I'm pretty sure it was cued up to espn, meaning it was all about the collapse...so I pick up the nice lay-z-boy in front of me and spike the shit out of that. A few pieces fall to the floor and the chair sits there with a slight limp. Oh so sad.

The next morning I get driven into the city by Saint Balog and stop off at the doctors for breakfast. As I sit down, the pocket of my pants gets caught on the edge of the chair as I go to sit down and the slightest of slight tears happens on the seam of the pocket. Fed up and still incredibly heated, I proceed to rip open the seam and tears the pants completely off. The doctor was likely taken aback by this burst of rage, but to this day continues to laugh about this outburst.

The yankees went on to lose that series and the Red Sox are still gay.

Tickets are booked

2007-10-02T11:42:00.000-05:00

Truck Stop is going to nationals.

So we had a fun filled frisbee weekend. Friday night we drove down to beautiful Fredericksburg, Va. in order to maximize sleep so we would be fully prepared for Saturday morning. Prepared for what? Prepared to give up 8 points to a team of kids who just graduated from high school and then a weaker club team that didn't even play their best players because they wanted to rest up for games they thought they could win.

I have a major problem with this...as I do with any strategy that doesn't rely on the talent of a team. On my team, there is no throwing in the towel, no matter how miserable you are playing or how badly you are being beaten. I don't always agree with this, as in the finals this past weekend we got our asses kicked but played most of our top players the entire game. I thought we should have conceded around 12-5, but we kept throwing out the big guns for the majority of the final points. Perhaps this is selfish of me, because I felt I could get some quality PT in this game as a result of the score, but that's not the way we played it. I don't disagree with out mentality that we felt we could come back no matter how good Ring was playing and how bad we were playing. However, when a team intentionally doesn't play its top 3 players, I have a problem with that. I don't look at it as good strategy. It may be and it may have worked out for that team, but come on. You train all spring and summer long, giving up countless hours of time you could spend with friends, family, traveling, etc and then you get the biggest game of the year and concede it before it's even begun? Pathetic in my mind. So what if you play your big dogs and come up short...what if you don't? They scored 11 on us...imagine what may have been with their best on the field. We were not at our best at all this weekend and were down key players to injuries...we were extremely vulnerable. Oh well.

So we finished our Saturday against Pike, who we consider a team we should crush. I was slightly nervous because we were down our top D line guy. I was also slightly nervous because I got to start the game and turned it on the goal line on the first point, leading to a Pike break. Not a great start. Usually, this would mean I'm done for the game...both mentally and that I won't get to go back in. All of my teammates came over to me and told me to shake it off and one of the captains told me I was getting back in. This helped me stay positive. Later in the game, I got another shot and even scored. That's right, QP Live doing the damn score dance. Actually, no dance happened, but I did get hooked up from former g-Dub teammate Jack with a monster flick that I ran down in the back of the end zone...that's right, deep cut. My guy went to poach on a throw to Jack and I took off deep. No one picked me up and Jack just put it out in front of me for the score. I then threw a scoober as a spike, which was probably the best scoober of my life. I could feel it come out perfect. It's awesome to score in big games like that because running around after you catch it makes you feel like you are floating. I am not a goal scorer and definitely not a deep cutter (anymore) so it feels great to score on a huck for the first time in a club game, likely since I left Metal.

We ended up beating Pike in a 15-12 game. They battled pretty hard but only have about 16 guys they rely on, so we eventually just out ran them.

Sunday started with the finals against Ring and was over pretty quickly. They just owned us. We didn't force a turn on their O team until the end of the second half. They got turn after turn on our O line. Not much else to say. They were pretty pumped up...we couldn't match it.

The next game was the 2/3 game vs. Pike again. Last year at sectionals, we played Potomac for the first time in the semis. We beat them 15-14 or something like that in a close battle. Then we played them at regionals and beat the merc out of them.

We beat the merc out of Pike. They maybe scored 6 or 7. We got the first 3 points of the game. It was then 3-1, later it was 5-2 and then all of a sudden, it was 10-3. Pike then took their top dogs out and let the kids who watched most of the weekend get on the field. It was a much different experience. They were turning the disc over on dump throws and dropping easy competitions. I guess there is a large gap between their bench and their starters. I guess a lot of their bench is young, or maybe just cold from not playing all weekend. I know all about that.

This game was fun because we crushed a team while qualifying for nationals and that was excellent. I also caught a callahan, which was sweet because the guy who caught the callahan against me in my last college game was on Pike. Problem was, it was on a blatant foul and didn't count. On the off chance it did, I did a little jump slide action to make sure I was in the end zone and caught the frisbee. Jack saw me do this and started laughing at me. I realized too late I should have run around like it counted and gone crazy but I just threw it back to the thrower quickly. I'm so slow.

Later in that point, which had a bunch of turns, 1 that I was responsible for, one of the Pike players got injured and took a sub. We're up 12-5 and their subs are in. I've played more this weekend than I thought and played in the big games too, but surely I'll get to stay on the field because what does it matter at this point anyway, right? Sure enough, the guy calling subs sees me, puts a big smile on his face and calls me off. I was fucking pissed. I look at him and say, "Really?" totally dejected and slowly walk off the field. Mind you, I've been running pretty hard, had been on my man and was feeling fine. Oh, and there was a 42 year old on the field too who got to stay on. So not only was I pretty pissed, but I was also laughing on the inside about it. The guy who doesn't come to practice who is actually slower than me gets to stay on...In case you're wondering, this guy plays all the time, so it's not like he's a scrub or anything.

So I get subbed off. Kind of hilarious. As I got drunker and drunker on Sunday night, I laughed more and more about it. It didn't really matter. We qualified for nationals for a second straight season and that is excellent. We have literally nothing to lose going into nationals. Last year we finished 14th, which wasn't all that great. This year, our goal is to win nationals. That might be a little lofty, but I'd be happy not having to play on the shitbox fields at any point during the weekend. All the fields are wonderful, but there are a few way the fuck on the edge of the land where the games are played and I'd rather not have to be there again. So I'd love to make it to quarters. Top 8. That'd be a great way to go out.

Quick update

2007-09-28T10:22:00.000-05:00

Well, the others got ahold of this post and the rumor is it didn't get over too well. Not terribly awful, but perhaps unappreciated. To that I say,

QP Live 3

S(ucking) A(ll) Y(our) D(icks) 0

So we backed it all up. SAYD did not score, but they nearly did due to an effing error by this guy doing his best unclutch perform ace act again.

We kicked first to start the game and immediately got our first 3 runners on. I came up next and hit a pop up that dropped between first and the right fielder, but did result in the runner from first being tagged out. We put up all 3 that first inning and that was it...then again, we didn't even make it through our entire lineup for the rest of the game...that's the second straight game. People in the bottom of our lineup really have to start getting on if we want to challenge for the league title. Right now, we're in first, but we play Scoregasm in 2 weeks and we're not going to be nearly as successful against their pitcher as we are against any other pitcher in the league.

It seemed like SAYD's only goal was to score 1 run and that was what they were pissed about when it was all over. At one point they almost scored. There was a runner on 3rd with 2 outs and the kick went rocketed to the 2nd baselady. She bobbled it, but right to the first baseman, who picked it up and pegged the girl running to second for the 3rd out. there was a discussion about whether the run scored from 3rd before the girl was pegged and whether the runner made it safely to first before the girl was pegged. The 1st base ref said no, the other team whined like the ref was wrong and our team said that either way, it's still a force out and the run doesn't count. Had the runner made it to 1st before the out, then I think we all would have agreed the run counted, but this didn't happen and the streak continued.

At 8 pm, when the game was supposed to be over, their pitcher, who is also the head of all refs in the league, said the games goes until 8:10 due to the grace period...the game before us started late...however, i thought our game had still started on time. it seemed like they were really trying for every last chance to get that run in.

didn't happen. the D is too good. I consider myself a good pitcher but I'd give up a ton of runs if the D behind me wasn't spectacular. People were making catches on low line drives, people have fallen over bleachers and people have been run into to make plays on D. It's why we are 4-0 with 36 runs scored and 0 allowed.

It was a fun week of banter back and forth between the other team. I hope they know it was all in good fun. they probably realize that we take the game pretty seriously at this point, but when you are facing one of the top 4 teams in the league, that's what happens. There's been some complaining from their team that we only played the same guys in the field the whole game and people paid money to play in the league, therefore deserve a chance to play in the field during the regular season. To that I say, enough is enough. We'll run our undefeated, unscored upon team the way we like, you can run your 3-1 with 6 runs against team in pink however the fuck you like.

I'm focused, man

2007-09-27T14:38:00.000-05:00

Kickball update? Well, it's Thursday, so it's fucking on tonight. Tonight we match up against a team that willingly wears pink. Their pitcher wears a visor, willingly. They wear high pink socks. They declare themselves talented.

I declare them fucking dead.

So far this year we are 3-0 and have given up fewer runs than losses we have. Wait. That was stupid to write. We haven't been scored on. This will be the toughest shut out challenge this season. I'm not prepared to lose the shut out streak that dates back to the finals of the last season. You don't score. You don't win. Teams don't score on my team. It just isn't in the cards for them. We've had two extremely close calls this year. At the end of our second game, the ball trickled into the outfield and our catcher made a sick throw off of a rely throw that only made it to the pitchers mound to peg the guy 1 step before home. Last week the other team try to tag up on us from 3rd base in the first inning with 1 out. Our left fielder gunned it in, I jumped up and threw it straight down as the runner tried to slide under me. He took it off the face. That's what you get when you try to score on my team. Shot in the face like a whore.

Don't try to score on my team. It won't make me happy.

We've been having wars back and forth with the other team via http://www.grapheine.com/bombaytv/index.php?lang=uk. Basically, we've been adding subtitles to random Indian movie clips. We're really good at it. They are not. We're winning the trash talking battle. Theirs are in good spirits about how good they are and how in over our heads we are. Ours claim that their team name (S.A.Y.D.) stands for Sucking All Your Dicks. Others of ours claim that they shit themselves uncontrollably and that their women are filthy whores who shit the bed.

So we're taking this game pretty seriously. I am not trying to give up any runs this game. I'm more trying to beat this team so bad that they abandon their desire to play kickball at all anymore. That would make me happy...well, actually that would make me feel like a jerk.

All due respect to this team, they are the best team we've played this season and that makes me slightly nervous because we have a bunch of new players who think we are amazing because we crushed 3 shitty teams. If we were less experienced, I'd say we might be in for a let down. My level of focus right now is pretty high. Hence, the somewhat sadistic post here. I'm focused on crushing this team and the important thing to remember is not to freak out if any runs cross the board. I've prepared myself mentally that it's just not going to happen.

So onto other matters for a quick moment.

Regionals is this weekend and our region gets 3 bids to nationals. This upsets me. All year, I've prepared that we had to win the region to make nationals and over come our mental inability to beat Ring of Fire from North Carolina. We always play with them for a half and then get smoked in the second half. I think once we beat them the first time, we'll never lose to them again. After talking with the other Mister Slam last night, he said that we need to beat Ring not only for ourselves, but in order to justify the third bid to our region. We are not looked at as a strong region and some would say that giving us a third bid is kind of BS. I see their argument and generally agree with them. Top to bottom, our region is not one of the strongest ones out there and I personally feel, at least in the club season, that size shouldn't have any impact on the number of bids. So, basically, I don't want to hear bitching about a weaker region getting 3 bids. But if we beat Ring, the region gets more respect because Ring has national respect. We don't....yet.

Another reason I don't like it is that I am no longer nervous that we won't make nationals. We are down our best D line player and our best all around player this weekend. I wanted that pressure. I think the team would have played even better with that pressure. I wanted the seed of doubt...because when we qualified for nationals, I wanted to feel like it wasn't a given. It's still not a given at this point, but odds are we'll be there. If we don't, there will be a major uproar..at least locally. Nationally, we'll just look like chumps. But our team will flip the fuck out and we will feel like a bunch of chumps, and no one on the team wants that.

That's mad material thrown down the drain (son)

2007-09-25T10:12:00.000-05:00

That's what I keep thinking every time I open my mouth. In fact, that's why I went on my hiatus last year for a pretty long time....just got tired of telling the same stories over and over again...figured the people who read this also heard that, so who pays attention to both, right? But maybe not anymore, as I am a worldwide powerhouse now. It's true. Go to www.thislinklikelydoesntexist.com and you'll find out.

So a funny question was asked on a comment to my last post. It read:

"QP Live, Will these shenanigans end when the doctor comes back to DC?"

To that I have 2 responses:

1. Hey a-hole, you read this enough to know the pseudonyms, so use them. a-hole

2. Naturally. It's just what I do naturally at this point and time. Case in point:

Nationals game, this past Friday night. After last weeks performance, all I really wanted to do was drink at the game...and drink I did. At no point was I not double fisting. At one point, I was handling the rare triple fist. It was glorious. Many asked if this was an expensive night...obviously. But it was bonus day, so I spent a nice portion of it on King Lights. It started out promising, but quickly faded once the old man sitting next to me called me out on double fisting in the top of the second inning. He was laughing at me, so I didn't feel too bad. We moved sections shortly thereafter to sit next to the 45 Philly fans who had come down to support their team during the playoff race. At no point did they quiet down, but they were pretty good spirited. One kid was so hammered that the event staff pulled him out and made him sit in the front row by himself. Due to our close proximity to DC Jail, I started chanting, "Prison Rape, Prison Rape" over and over again....yes, I know but I was double fisting, what do you expect.

What I didn't expect was to see this 5'4 110 pound blond Philly fan stare right at me like I was the devil...she thought I was chanting this at her and was heated. I calmly explained that it was directed at her with the old, "Oh damn. No, not you. Sorry about that." She was amazingly ok with it. I was shocked, but relieved. Anyway, that kid sat there and smoked for a few innings and woke up a bit. It was pretty funny.

So that was pretty much the last thing I remember about the game. At some point, we stumbled out and onto the metro and into the night in Adams Morgan. I bought a beer at the bar, drank a few sips, gave it away and left the bar by jumping over the fence around the outside patio. It was time to go. Two-Pump Charlie tried to get me to come back by chasing me down as I was trying to get into the doctors car, so we ran around the car a few times until I body checked him into traffic, jumped in the car and then we took off. I think he was safe.

Case in point #2:

Sunday afternoon, back at the same bar for Sunday football. Due to practice, I could only make the last 3 quarters of the 4 pm games. That would prove to be plenty of time to do what I do. So we're there, enjoying some tasty high life pitchers and hanging out with some of the people we befriended last week. High Sock Ho was not there. Our new friends are both Cowboy fans and declare that the Cowboys will score at least 30 points on the Bears that night...in Chicago. Naturally, I figure there is no possible chance this will happen and I let him know how confident I am with my assumption with the following:

"I'm so confident that the Cowboys won't score 30 that I'll bet my fiancé's anal virginity on it."

The first reaction to everyone was laughter...then this kid debated the bet, debated further and debated longer and came back with, "I have nothing that can match that."

It's a good thing too, because the Cowboys scored 34 points....that would have hurt. The doctor more than me, but still...good thing he didn't put anything on the line otherwise we'd have a running dialog of my life as a single man.

So I don't think I'll be changing too much now that she is back in town...but I guess that's ultimately up to someone not me to decide.

5 days of pain

2007-09-20T15:35:00.000-05:00

It's kickball night...which means I obviously have to write something.

But let's not look towards the future. Let's go back. We can call this, "QP Live's Week in Sports".

Friday night was memorable....because I still feel Friday night. Man, was I intoxicated...on hot dogs. Probably the greatest thing a person can say to a male sports fan is "luxury box". Why? Because it's free food, free drink, free awesome. It rained the entire game and I didn't get hit with a drop of rain the entire time. We made a pretty sweet rule that at no point could your plate not have food on it. This rule last 2 innings before we all looked at each other in pain after the first inning and agreed that the second inning was the longest we could play this game. Don't fret fans, we put on a good display.

By the way, it turns out I can't in fact eat 15 hot dogs in one sitting. I can, however, eat 7 in two innings. All of us took the "it's a sprint, not a marathon" approach to this game. No one wasn't miserable. I was so full that I wasn't even able to get buzzed. I had 2 beers with all the food I enhailed. I tried to drink a third when I realized that I was not actually going to overcome my extreme feeling of full without booting. So, naturally, I tried to toughen it out. I've never booted from food before and I'm not about to do it now. So I took the usual approach of trying to burp it out, drink some water, take deep breaths. After inning 3, no improvement. After inning 4, I felt the same...but surely this was a good sign because that means I'm not getting any worse. Inning 5 was the one that changed all of this. I declare that I am going to the bathroom and stumble as if I've had 14 shots and am about to boot. I get out of the luxury box in 5 steps. this is significant because my mouth was full with saliva. So I spit it out and 5 steps later, full again. Repeat this every 5 steps to the bathroom, roughly 40 steps away, and I am closing the door to the stall behind me. Roughly 30 seconds into this I realize that in order to live I need to A) boot and B) swear to myself I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever do this to myself again (note: as a punishment, I just typed each ever individually - I'm a sick bastard). So I can feel it coming out, lean over the toilet, get ready, here it comes and....nothing. Just a dry heave...a very painful one though. Then another one is coming and surely this will be it! Nope. Nothing. I do this for about another 10 minutes and all I got out was a little liquid. I even was doing some calisthenics in the bathroom to force it out and nothing was doing. I'm so glad no one else came in during this time, though I could have used a friend to punch me in the stomach...not that they didn't offer in the luxury box, but I'm not trying to destroy to box.

So I stumble back to the box, sweaty, and enter. I got looks for 10 people who all know what's been going on and I declare I feel no better and couldn't boot. Then I decide I will stand up and see if this helps. I go through cycles of 1 minute of pain, 15 seconds of burping, 15 seconds of feeling decent, 1 minute of pain, repeat. this goes on for 2 more innings. Entering the bottom of the 8th inning I get a good burp in followed by an audible, "Oh my God, I FEEL FINE!". Roughly 2 hours and 6 innings later, I'm alive.

A lot of comments were made, most about how miserable I was going to feel on Saturday and such, but I woke up and felt fine....a true miracle.

Saturday and Sunday were sectionals for ultimate. We played some lower level club teams, a college team and then a few decent club teams. We were not challenged at any point, though, credit goes to HOV for getting two breaks to start the finals. We ended up taking half 8-6 and the game 15-6. But props to them for playing strong D most of the game.

Sunday afternoon we went to Adams Mill to watch the games. This was one of the best Sundays ever. We got hammered, we made friends with a few people at the bar and we also made enemies. I girl yelled at us to stop making some annoying sound that had been going on for a while. Yeah, great idea slut. Tell the drunk annoying kids to stop doing something...see where that gets ya? So, obviously, we start doing it more and more, to the point where we do it in a circle a few times. She keeps telling us to shut the fuck up, so I start the whole, "Pull your socks down. CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP". She was wearing short shorts and high socks. Easy target. It was funny to us, but apparently her boyfriend was not too happy with this guy. Props again to Chaz for controlling the environment and not letting him find out that when you mess with QP Live, you mess with me too...

he was bigger than me. he would have won by a landslide...mostly due to size, but let's not take away that I could barely walk or see at the time.

to add though, and I don't want to sound like an asshole or anything, but a chick doesn't have the right in a shitty dive bar of people watching the NFL to tell us to stop doing something, regardless of how irritating. In fact, she doesn't have the right to not be stroking her boyfriend while she's there. I should kick his ass for letting her not be the fucking slutbag that she is....oh well, there's always next Sunday, since they go every week, just like our crew.

Monday was MNF, meaning night 2 of getting drunk and eating wings. A fun game it was, but no motorboats to report. Nothing too exciting either, other than a good NFC East game and a win for the home team.

Tuesday was softball night. Our game started late and then was suspended due to darkness. the only highlight of this was the walk from the fields to the bar. Along the way, we had to wait for the light at 17th and Constitution Ave. There was a big yellow school bus with some kids in it waiting at the right turn arrow. These were probably kids in either 7th, 8th or 9th grade...meaning their obnoxious/just my type/exactly what my game is suited for. So these girls were making faces and yelling random junk at these tourists who were waiting on the corner as well. I had enough of it as the bus started turning, so I took 2 steps into the road and smacked the window that these girls were hanging out of. I thought it was appropriate and this was justified when my teammates started laughing and the tourists gave me a thank you thumbs up and a laugh. The girls screamed and then a few feet further down the road yelled something like "we're not scared of you". I wanted to run down the bus and hang onto the window as it drove, but I also want to swim like a dolphin and that's not happening either.

Wednesday was ultimate practice. please note, do not layout on concrete. it hurts. we play on a "grass" field on Wednesdays that haven't been rained on since hell was formed. they are rock solid, but I was feeling it last night and decided that I would dive for this one disc I was running down. I caught it...but landed on my fingers, bruising them, cut up my right shoulder, left hip and left elbow. sweet. totally worth it.

so tonight is kickball. I was told by a teammate of mine that I should give up the goal of shutting out every team.

to that I say, no. I'm QP Live and you're me. we shut bitches out. but how do you look at a kid like this and not take his advice seriously. i mean, would you doubt a person with, well you see that thing. impressive.

Surely this makes no sense

2007-09-17T16:24:00.000-05:00

I'm in a good mood today, but don't let the doctor know that. CRAP. She reads this. She found out. I was talking to her about how I was happy to be going home tonight. For those that don't know, I've been dog sitting at the B.G.M. for the last 8 days and nights. It's cool because it's a really nice house, the dogs (2 cocker spaniels) are more or less fun, the owners are really relaxed and I get paid to do it. It's not fun sometimes because they don't really focus on TV and while they have 2, neither of them is up to my standards...basically because the remotes don't work. So while I haven't been working that much in the last week, I was never really able to relax...or even chillax. The few times that I did go out, I always remembered that the dogs were in their puppy prisons and I felt bad about that, so I always felt the urge to go back and let them out.

But tonight I get to go home, which is sweet. I was talking to el doctor about the dogs and me being happy to go home and she was all "you're in a bad mood" and I was all "no I'm not". It's a pretty serious fight for us, since we get along pretty well. Once again, still have no idea how or why that is, but I'm not trying to pick fights because I never seem to win them. Anyone who has ever been a relationship longer than 3 months can feel me on that one I bet...why 3 months? Because I just made up the theory that if you fight before 3 months, you just split up instead because it's a hell of a lot easier at that point and why not go meet some new girl you can fight with in 90 days...after all, not only is it important in life to date more than a few women, it's also important to get in a variety of arguments with more than a few women so you can solidify your "fuck you bitch, that's why" argument....why? because make up bonin' is all its chalked up to be and more.

why? let's not look at it from the angle of you're in a fight, then you make up and then you show your love by sweating all over each other...unless you're an eskimo or minute man...no sweat then. anyway. let's look at it from this perspective. when you see a really good action movie, for example, any of the Bourne movies, you go through a range of emotions. You have the initial keen interest in the subject, you have the sympathy for bourne trying to become a new person, empathy because of the situation his life is in, hatred for the guy fucking with bourne and in the end joy for having him beat the ever loving piss out of 90 people at once, while destroying a city and walking away all at the same time...that feels pretty damn good if you ask me.

make up sex brings together all of those emotions. only instead of having all of these feelings towards a movie, you have all of these feelings towards the one in which you bone...or so I'm told. we're catholic, so I'll tell you after our first fight post wedding...(PLEASE NOTE: This last line was only put in so the doctor can't yell at me about what I write. QP Live is fearless, except for his woman yelling at him. Then QP Live is a turtle.)....

anyway, so I've been told that all of these emotions come together...only you replace the movie with your siggy and while enjoying the company of said siggy, you think back about your fight. the gentle loving side for making up but then you remember how pissed you were so anger, followed by the I'm glad me made up followed by anger and repeat. and it's nice when the feeling is reciprocated because you're on the same page. it's love people...wait, no, it's just moronic ramblings of a guy who showed up hungover to work on fucking monday.

off to Monday Night Football we go....

wrapping up...

2007-09-14T14:24:00.000-05:00

What an odd week...what an odd week indeed.

Generally, things were pretty much normal. So why an odd week? I don't really know. I do know that last night I was very afraid. At the bar after kickball (8-0 win) I was buying a drink for a player on the team we played against (and beat 8-0, don't know if you saw that...we're good). So we're doing that awkward standing next to each other with little to nothing to say to each other when a really awkward looking player from his team comes over. She's pretty short and isn't the most physically gifted person I've ever seen. She asks will I order her a beer. I'm feeling good after our win and the friendliness of their team, so I'm like sure. Then she asks again if I'll buy her a beer. I know I've already said sure, but I guess she doesn't hear me. So I put the order in for 3 beers when she says, "if I flash you, will you order me a beer" to which I respond with "No."

I was not happy. I've never once been asked by a lady if she can flash me for anything. I'm pretty sure that under most circumstances if a girl is like "can I flash you in exchange for...." i would say yes. My standards are not high. Here's a picture of the last person I hooked up with before the doctor. I'm serious when I say that if the option was a swift kick in the junk I'd OK it to see some decent other woman goodness. But this just wasn't happening. I wasn't going for it and I was afraid. I paid for the beer and tried to get away when she went for the kiss on the cheek. I received that and hopped away pretty damn fast. I was not getting caught there and losing my life becoming some awkward kickball girls prisoner because I'd probably end up seeing everything that a parent promises to protect their child from seeing. And away and far away I got to the other side of the bar.

So that was odd.

Kickball was fun though. We won 8-0. They almost scored though, which I would have been pissed about. We have a new catcher, who I think just loves hitting people with the ball at the last possible second before they cross the plate. In our only loss last year, he got me at home about a step before I touched home. In this situation, we pegged a guy at second and the ball rolled into the outfield. The runner tried to score from first. I had run into the outfield and threw it as far back in as I could and it only made it to the pitchers mound. Not to worry. Our catcher picks up the ball, takes a step or two and nails this kid at home. Game over. Shut out preserved. QP Live not going to break anything. Very happy.

I'm not saying that if a team scores on me that I'm going to cry like a bitch...it's just that if a shitty team scores on us, I'm going to be really pissed. First off, it's a runs against league, meaning tie breakers are settled by the number of runs you allow. My goal for this year is 0 runs allowed. Our defense is pretty rediculous, so I think it's pretty possible to make it happen. Even when we get up big and sub in players who are just playing for the first time, they do pretty good.

Tonight I have box seats to the Nationals vs. Braves game. I've been to 1 game all year and stayed for 5 innings. Tonight will be much different. Free beer. Free food. Free parking. So I'm not really going to drink that much, especially with sectionals starting tomorrow, but it's still going to be awesome. Sectionals should be a cake walk, which means I should get to play some more than the last time...so I guess I should drink more....I wonder if the Nationals will mind if I leave my car overnight in their lot? I bet it will still be there in the morning. I doubt they would car...afterall, at this point, they should just be happy they get people out to the game.

tradition

2007-09-11T20:48:00.000-05:00

getting drunk on a monday is not a good idea. it just doesn't play well for the rest of your week. worse than this, though, is getting drunk on sunday.

It's Monday Night Football time again and that means 10 cent wings, $3 drafts (of any kind) and because the waitress likes abuse, of the 15-20 shots we had last night, we were charged for 2. it was awesome. It was nice to see the regular monday night crowd again because it's usually the same people every year and this is the time that i will see these people the most consistently. some were missing or left early and it turns out it was because they all spent 8-10 hours drinking on sunday.

you see, it's Sunday afternoon football again and that means for the first weekend, everyone is getting drunk, eating wings, mercing liquid...well everyone except for me. i have practice on sundays from 1-5. that's probably the worst thing since this new "ass to mouth" phenomena that is sweeping the nation. not sure what it is? what are you fucking retarded? what's it sound like.

so back to MNF. we're going to sign of the whale right now in DC. My man Jerome Tomlinson, aka Quintin Sanders affectionately refers to the area in DC where the whale is as "Midtown" but he's pretty much the only person to seriously refer to that area as such. he'll argue with you and say plenty of other people call it that and you're being ridiculous, but he is the one who in fact is being ridiculous. if asked, i might call it south dupont, or so dupe, or, since dupont is land of the male on male ass to mouth, so gay. in fact, i think we should start referring to the area from 19th and Connecticut between M and N should be referred to as so gay from now on. because i'm in the business of making things up and trying to get them to stick...well, usually i take something from someone no one else knows and then try to spread it to an entirely new community. that's what happened with merc....gash....etc.

anyway, MNF was a great time this past week. the games were pretty exciting, but the bartender stole the show. what...a...bitch. seriously, she was a bitch. and i was in bitch slapping mode. i roll up and immediately annoy her with my A game banter. she tried to deny it, but is there any denying me when i seriously won't shut the fuck up no matter how hard anyone tries to make me stop, including myself? it was one of those nights.

it was also time to get jack really drunk. the ravens were playing and those are his boys. he needed some extra support, so i roll up and immediately order the two of us a shot of jack. end of the first quarter, another shot of jack. then we switch to jaeger for a few and that's when all words got slurry...a few minutes later, or so i thought, the bar is emptying out and the game is winding down. i have no idea how it came up, but the waitress said something and then i dropped the, "and then i'd be all whwhwhwhwhwhwhwhhwh" which translates into me motorboating from across the table (no contact of course).

the look on her face and the face of my 5 friends at the table was absolute shock. she was slightly pissed. i was on my A game and not phased. she comes back a few minutes later with a shot of clear tequilla and says, "this is for you. this has been sitting on the bar for an hour and you only get this lime if you beg for it". A game people. fuck this ho. so i casually look at her, the shot and then eye the salt. i proceed to lick the back of my hand, pour some salt their, take the shot, snort the salt and give her the middle finger (i think i made up the middle finger part, but it makes for a good read, no?). in no way shape or form did i need that lime. not phased by the shot. not phased by the salt. bring it slut.

i believe the the 5 friends looked on impressed. the slut of the waitress was impressed and then actually knew that this comes from Caddyshack. I wonder how many of you remember Ty Webb doing the same thing?

So in the end, we parted on good terms. I actually really liked her as a waitress. I asked for water and she laughed at me and eventually brought it. She constantly gave us attitude, but also provided pretty good service. The Whale in so gay is definitely a great place for MNF.

So in the end, after over 100 wings ordered, roughly 50 beers ordered and all those shots, the tab came out to $191. Not too bad.

I then had to ride my bike back to where I am dog sitting for the week (which was entirely up hill). I don't so much remember the pain of the uphills, so I was pretty happy about that. I do remember being terrified I'd be hungover in the morning. In an effort to prevent, which I successfully did, i ate a turkey sandwich, drank a glass of orange juice, pounded some water, took 2 motrin and took a shower. I was once told that orange juice the night before will help prevent hangovers and so far I am 1 for 1. I recommend this to you.

and i think you should come to so gay next monday. It's eagles vs. redskins which will be the best game of the year to be at in DC. It's going to be an amazing night. No time is better to be in DC than when the skins are winning or in the beginning of a season when optimism is high....which it is right now.

and i think the Caveman TV show will not be good. more on that later.

Someone please translate this

2007-09-07T15:13:00.000-05:00

http://jayscine.blogspot.com/

Someone please translate this blog for me.

Shockingly, work has been pretty slow for the last 2 hours. There is a big hearing going on, which is what has kept me busy all week, and now that everyone is there and my side projects are done, I've had the chance to click on the "Next Blog" link at the top of some of the blogspot blogs.

I've never really found any other good blogs, but I have found a lot of people writing about their children/family. I always see ones like this. Today I found the blog linked above. It's all in German I think - WILLIS!!!!! - and it appears to be all about Prison Break, which we can all agree is probably the best show since John From Cincinnati.

In all seriousness, I've seen every Prison Break episode and I love the show....well, at first I just wanted to see where it was going, then I loved it and now I'm still really into the show, but Scofield went back to prison at the end of the season, so I guess we're starting from scratch, but only this time he has to escape from a prison in Panama....DRAMA!

Anyway, I guess this blog is nothing more than a recap, but I've never met a person who seemingly has more in common with me than anyone else I've ever met in my life...especially when I've never met this person but I think he's my best friend. Wow, that's gonna cause some drama at the wedding, not to mention the language barrier is going to be tough to explain how we became best buds to everyone.

In completely boring and unrelated news, I got a new computer at work today. It's got a 20 inch flat screen, wide screen monitor that I can raise higher/lower and tilt left right up and down.

told you that was boring.

the kickball team won something like 16-0 last night. We're good. I didn't throw a ball, as in ball/strike, until the 3rd inning and I was not too pleased about it. They didn't get a base runner until the 4th, due to an error or two and then they didn't get a hit until the 5th (and last) inning. I really wanted that no hitter (kicker?) and it was kind of funny because it was a girl who got the hit. Not funny because it was a girl who got a hit, but funny because she hit it a hell of a lot harder than any of the guys on their team, except for one kid who drilled it pretty far, but it was foul. These kids showed up ready to play some playground kickball and we were in the field first. As soon as I threw my first overhand pitch the first batter and it skidded across the plate for strike one, most of their team went pretty silent for a second or two...or at least that's what I'm telling you happened. Truth be told, I have little to no idea. I just know that the first pitch felt really good and everyone in the field immediately got behind me and we were pumped up. We scored 7 or 8 runs in the first inning alone.

My monitor is as high up as it goes. That's all.

boring.

some one please translate that page for me. it's your duty as a reader to help the other readers out. If you translate it, you'll get a QP Live hat and arm band combination. Just send you address to qplive@gmail.com. Delivery usually takes 4-7 years.

Today we defend our crown

2007-09-06T18:10:00.001-05:00

sort of.

QP Live and Me: The Kickball Experience (sponsored by Faygo, naturally) starts again tonight. Take where I was before the last kickball season and compare it with where I am now in terms of excitement and you have a fat kid who was lost in the woods, find a shady looking shack and goes inside to find behind a door, a room filled with macaroni and cheese. That fat kid, along with eating all of it and getting even fatter, would also shit his pants - with excitement that is. So I'm pretty excited and my team is too. We sent about 100 emails today, mainly trying to convince two people to be the team fluffers (one guy, one girl).

So that's where my boost mobile is. I don't have much else...perhaps a post game recap or something.