And Introducing Number 66...

I learned something on Friday night. Actually, I’m pretty upset with myself that I never gave it any thought before. Ladies and gentleman, one of our fellow bloggers missed his calling.

Friday night, the Rev and I went to the Khyber in Philly to see one of our favorite bands, Electric 6, perform. The first time we went, back in the summer, Rev wasn’t really too familiar with their stuff, but agreed to go with me, ‘cause he’s a helluva guy. We basically stood in the back of the Khyber, which, if you never been, is not all that different than one of the gates of hell. Still, E-6 rocked, and Smokin’ became a fan.

About 3 weeks ago, the Rev e-mails me and tells me that E-6 is coming back to the Khyber, and that we should go. I was thrilled to see them again, I was just kinda hopin’ that they would’ve chosen a different venue, like maybe the TLA. They were turning people away at the door, so I’m guessing E-6 probably could’ve gotten 1,000 people to show up.

Anyway, the Rev had one of his bright ideas, and said that we should go towards the front of the venue so that he could get some good picks of the band. I was game, but I knew that we’d probably regret it eventually. Sure, Smokin’ got some really good pics, but I’m still trying to figure out if it was worth it. We basically found ourselves on the edge of a rather rowdy mosh-pit.

Not that I’m a pussy, but I’ve tended to stay away from mosh-pits, mainly because I’m clumsy, a klutz, and basically, I’m “That Guy” – you know, the guy that somehow gets hurt with freak situations like getting elbowed in the face during a game of Frisbee football 1-week prior to my junior prom (yep – had a black eye – and the camera caught it perfectly in my prom photo).

Thankfully, I had the Rev as buffer. He was actively knockin’ people over left and right, like a prison guard in Alabama, and keeping the mosh pit from me. Watching him powerfully push the entire mosh pit to the other side of the room, I realized something. The Rev would’ve been a great offensive lineman – an all-pro, probably, had he decided to give that “profession” a serious shot, instead of taking a liking to reporting traffic.

Donovan McNabb probably would’ve won a few Super Bowls by now, if Smokin’ would’ve just put on the pads (no, not those feminine pads), and smothered the competition. Smokin’ is rapidly approaching his mid-30’s, so it’s probably too late for an NFL career at this point, but what if? It would’ve been something, dammit!

Happy New Year, All!

Stoppage Time

28???
My wife may have done the most amazing thing she has ever done the other day …. Watched 28 straight episodes of Wings. Now, I enjoyed that TV show years ago, and when it’s on, I tend to leave it on, but I don’t know if I could sit through more than 5 episodes of this show, or any show, without taking a break. I admire her “stick-to-it-tiveness.”

So Long, Mr. President
President Ford passed away the other day, and I’m sad that I don’t know much about him. He sounded like a really nice guy who never got a chance to display what he could do as president. He was too busy cleaning up after Nixon … so much so, that it ended up costing him the Presidential race of 1976 … or so I’m told. He always seemed like a cool guy, a guy that could take jokes in stride, but would hold his own against anybody and everybody. Even though he went to the University of Michigan, I still respect the guy.

You’re Reading What???
Yeah, I’m reading a book … not just any book, but a book about Eric Bischoff, former president of WCW. I know, sound pretty lame, doesn’t it? Some people have vices like secretly loving Brittany Spears songs, or liking the color pink. Nope, not me – I LOVE reading books about pro wrestling. I have no idea why, but I’m fascinated by this industry – all the backstage politics, the partying lifestyles, the struggles of redemption … o.k., I’ll stop talkin’.

Happy New Year, All!
I know this post was short … many of you are breathing a deep sigh of relief. Seriously, though. I wish all of you a happy, safe, and healthy New Year, and may we all come back blogging stronger than ever in 2007!!!!

2007 Predictions

I haven’t done this in a while, and to tell you the truth, I wasn’t a very good prognosticator (I think I would win the gold medal in scrabble with that one). But, what the hell – I’ll give it a shot.

10. I think that one of the 4 “F*ckhats” will pass away this year. You know – Nicole, Paris, Brittany, or Lindsay. I’m not wishing this on them, mind you, but I can just see something like this happening. My guess is that it’s gonna be Nicole, probably starving herself to death or something like that. Again, I’m not wishing this on her.

9. Barry Bonds’ knees are going to fall off during a baseball games. Now, unlike #10, I am wishing this on him.

8. T.O. will get released from the Cowboys. The guy has a knack for ruining pro teams. In fact, I’m surprised that FOX hasn’t put together a reality show based on this yet.

7. The Phillies will be in the wild card race until the last week of the season … like every year.

6. We will either get confirmation that we were successful in “terminating” Osama Bin Laden, or we will find out that he had died about a year ago … again, unlike #10, I am wishing this on him.

5. The Rolling Stones will finally end their “Bigger Bang” Tour that started in 2005.

4. There will be another “new” Tupac cd out, with “all new material” … even though the man has been dead for close to 10 years (or more).

3. Burger King will be producing a 10 patty hamburger (I think they’ve already done 5, so what the hell).

2. The Reverend will post another blog entry on his site (which means he’ll have a new job – go Steve!!!!).

1. There will be a “Best of” President Bush funny lines DVD out … and it will be the best selling DVD of the year.

Merry Christma, Y'all!

I found this hilarious Christmas poem on a website called funnypoets.com, and after my last blog rant, I thought it was fitting. Enjoy, and have a Merry (safe, happy, and healthy) Christmas:

A Politically Correct Christmas Story

'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves".
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And labour conditions at the North Pole
were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.

Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their rooftops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."

And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorised use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd never had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.

Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim, Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamoured or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacifistic.

No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.

A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
May you and your loved ones, enjoy peace on Earth.

Los and Smoke, Episode 7

Ho-ho-ho - check out the new podcast, AND check out my latest post (below this podcast)



Click here to get your own player.

Happy Holidays????

I recently heard of a news story that made me scratch my head a little (o.k., a lot). Apparently, Seattle’s airport had a bunch of Christmas trees up, and a Rabbi lodged a complaint about this, basically complaining that the airport wasn’t celebrating Chanukah. The airport ended up taking down all of the Christmas trees because of this.

I understand that our country is a big melting pot, and because of this, sometimes there are religious holidays that get ignored. So, would it have been nice if the Seattle airport had acknowledged Chanukah as well? Sure, that would’ve been great. But do we have to take down all Christmas decorations because of some complaints? Again, I’m scratching my head.

A suitable solution would’ve been if the Rabbi brought in some Chanukah decorations for the airport to put up, instead of lodging a complaint. Wouldn’t this have been better? JFK’s famous saying came to mind, when he said, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.” If we eliminate country, and add airport to this phrase, you might be able to see my point.

Not to dis anybody or any religion, but it’s gotten to the point now, where I am afraid to wish anybody a Merry Christmas because I’m afraid I just might offend them. Geez, if somebody wished me a happy Chanukah, I wouldn’t be offended. I might chuckle a little if you wished me a happy Kwanzaa. If I walked into a store with just Chanukah decorations up, again, it wouldn’t bother me. So, why does it bother so many people when only Christmas decorations are up? Seriously, educate me on this – I’m ready to listen.

You Will Be Missed, Sir!

A very “influential” part of my childhood passed away yesterday. That’s right – I’m talkin’ about Joe Barbera … part of Hanna-Barbera … the man who helped create such cartoon legends as Tom and Jerry, Yogi Bear, and Huckleberry Hound. I know, I know, most of today’s kids probably have no idea who these icons of the “Technicolor” screen are … and maybe they have an idea who the Flintstones were/are. But, I watched these cartoons daily as a youngster. So, in your honor, Mr. Barbera, I will do a top-5 list of my favorite Hanna-Barbera Characters:

5. Yogi Bear always made me laugh. He was an interesting character in that he was always outsmarting the ranger, but always seemed to be outsmarted by everyone else. Of course, everyone remembers his famous tag-line, “I’m smarter than the average bear!.” However, he never seemed to be smarter than the average bee, as he always seemed to be getting stung in his “bear” ass.

4. I’ve probably seen just about every incarnation of Tom and Jerry. However, my favorite ones were the ones with the old maid in them … you probably can’t remember these, because in this PC world, they have “creatively” edited her out. I’m sure the idea was that this was good for society … but basically, they ripped that part of my childhood away from me.

3. The Flintstones, as most “older” people probably know, were a blatant rip-off of the Honeymooners. In my mind, that never took away from the cartoon, though. Something I just found out today was that this cartoon was originally run during prime-time hours, much like the Simpsons and Family Guy. My question is, when the Simpsons finally wraps up, will people in 20 or 30 years realize it was a primetime cartoon? Damn, that Kazoo (or however you spell it).

2. The Wacky Racers – This one is probably not well known, but as a child, I couldn’t get enough of this cartoon. Every episode, there was a car (or plane) race with the same characters – and every week a different character won. Some of the better known characters included Penelope Pitstop, Dick Dastardly (who always cheated, but never won), and the Gruesome Twosome. Dastardly’s dog, Mutley, was my favorite.

Without a doubt, my favorite cartoon was Quickdraw McGraw, especially the ones in which he would turn into his alter-ego, “El-Kabong!” Basically, he would go after bad guys and smack them over the head with a guitar. If you tell me that Mr. Barbera never partook in drugs, this would be my biggest “evidence” to prove he did. What a genius!


Please, list any cartoons that you liked. I left off a big one, Scooby Doo, I know. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the cartoon, but that whole Scrappy Doo season killed it for me.

Stoppage Time

Damn You, Golden Tee!
I think I pumped about $20 into the Golden Tee machine at a local bar on Friday night. The game is just way too addicting. I think if I had this machine in my house, along with Megatouch, I probably would never leave the house again. I did ask for the Golden Tee plug and play game for Christmas – I know it won’t be quite as good graphically, but I’m hoping the game-play is acceptable … I’m such a loser.

‘Tis the Season!
I went to a holiday party … oh screw it, IT WAS A CHRISTMAS PARTY, at my friend “Barbara’s” house last night … I’m still recovering as we speak (well, type) … I’m trying to type quietly as I’m having difficulty with the louder keystrokes. The food was incredible (chicken cacciatore wings, pork balls wrapped in bacon … drool!), and I probably indulged in too many “holiday shots.” Also, Eric, you should be pleased by this – there was a keg!

I Really Should’ve Just Slept it Off
I decided that I had to wash my car today … and let me tell ya, this is not a fun task to do whilst hung-over. It’s that German guilt that my parents so graciously instilled in me as a child that “forced” me to do this. I was laying on the couch, trying to sleep, and my mind kept telling me I had to do this … again, I’m such a loser.

You’re Wearing What?
I got fitted for Smokin’s wedding on Saturday as well (geez, what a hectic weekend!). Now, this won’t be a traditional wedding. Instead, it will be an Indian-style wedding (no, not the Tonto-type), so the groomsmen will be dressed in Indian garb. My wife keeps telling me I got fitted for a dress. I am sure we will have plenty pictures to share in April. I look forward to this though, for many reasons – (A) Smokin’ is one of my best friends and he’s marrying a great gal, (B) I’ll probably get to break out my drunken Mick Jagger dance, and (C) I get to wear comfy clothes to this wedding (not the traditional uncomfortable tuxedo).

All I Want For Christmas

I’ve probably blogged about this before, but hey, I’m allowed to blog about it again if I want, so there. Christmas is a time to remember Christ, family, friends … and of course PRESENTS!!!! We probably all have favorite Christmas memories about favorite presents we received, and I decided I would be kind enough to share with you a few of my favorites (humor me!).

1. The Oscar the Grouch Alarm Clock – For some reason, I remember seeing this in some sort of catalogue as a child, and since I was a big fan of Sesame Street (and an even bigger fan of Oscar the Grouch), I REALLY, REALLY wanted this. My parents were excellent in hiding this from me, saying things like “Santa Claus probably won’t be able to get this present for you.” I was defeated – I figured there was no way I was going to get to wake up to Oscar’s grouchy voice every morning. My parents hid this gift from me and somehow snuck it into my pile of presents at the very end. I remember opening it, and being flushed with excitement and emotion so much that all I could do was hold my head and jump up and down repeatedly for about 5 minutes. For months, Oscar woke me up, and it was truly heaven. But, because I am a klutz, I ended up breaking it somehow. Recently, I searched for this clock on Ebay, and they run for about $200 now – geez!

2. The Atari 2600 – At the time, it was called the Atari VCS … which gives you an idea of how old I am. I loved arcades and arcade machines … I’ve loved them for about as long as I can remember. For instance, I remember going into a department store called Two Guys. They had some sort of primitive racing machine that I was always fixated on. I think my mom allowed me to play it a few times, and I was hooked. You could imagine my excitement when I discovered the Atari 2600 in a Sears catalogue. My cousin Drew and I couldn’t stop talking about it. Again, my mom played one helluva poker hand, saying that the price was too much for a Christmas present (at the time, it was $129). But, Inga did end up buying it for me, and I must’ve played that thing about 10,000 hours (or more). The first game I got (besides Combat, which came with the Atari) was Space Invaders – I swore it was like I had an arcade in my basement (not entirely true, but close enough). It didn’t take me long to find those “secret games” within the games – you would have to flick the game on and off in a certain way to find these games – it was kind of like the first cheat code. I found one with Space Invaders in which I was able to shoot twice as fast (I’ve probably lost most of you with this one).

3. Mr. Quarterback – Sure, looking back on this gift, it was a piece of shite. But, the thought of having my very own “quarterback” throwing me 20 to 30 yard passes was enticing. I couldn’t wait to give it a try. Unfortunately, Mr. Quarterback (which was promoted by that jackass Roger Staubach) only “threw” the football about 5 yards or so … not even a perfect spiral. This is probably why Mr. Quarterback is no longer being sold.

4. The Green Machine – Now, I didn’t actually get this gift, but my two cousins did. I was PISSED! Man, did I want to have the Corvette of big wheels instead of the crappy orange one with yellow wheels that I currently possessed. I’m tellin’ ya, this big wheel was awesome – it reached incredible speeds and one could spin out like Dale Earnhardt with it. I was about as jealous with this one as I was when my cousin Drew got those Zips sneakers (the ones that “made” you run fast – or at least that’s what they said in the commercials).

Stoppage Time

Yup – I Did It Again

Every six months or so, I do it. I’m about as regular as a T.O. outburst at this point. What am I talkin’ about? Glad ya asked. While preparing dinner the other night, I accidentally cut two of my fingers. The one finger cut was more like a paper cut – hurt like hell, bled quite a bit, but not too serious. However, I cut a decent sliver off of my other finger, and that sucker bled for a few hours – probably should’ve gone to the hospital, but that’s not my style (mainly, because I’m scared shitless of hospitals). So, now I find it difficult to type, and can’t play my guitar for at least a little while. This is a vicious cycle for me – I cut my finger, then I become very careful in the kitchen for a little while, and then I end up becoming careless again … so in about June, I should be ready for another finger-cutting.

Yup – He Did It Again

Just like me, Ric Flair seems to be regular. However, he doesn’t cut his fingers while preparing dinner … or at least he doesn’t talk about doing this. Nope – he’s regular in that he gets married, and then ends up getting divorced shortly after. I think the number for him now is 5 ex-wives. This got me to thinking – shouldn’t there be a three-strike rule with regards to marriages? After your third divorce, shouldn’t your right to marry be revoked, just for the sake of saving you the time and trouble from being moronic more times?

Yup – She Did It Again

I’m not really that concerned about celebrity gossip, but I had to chuckle when I heard that Nicole Ritchie was arrested for driving the wrong way on a highway (in the car-pool lane, no less). I think she should probably be put down at this point, for the good of … well, everybody. Apparently, when she was pulled over …. AT 4:50 AM … she confessed to have taken Vicodin AND smoking weed. She weighed in at a “svelte” 85 pounds at the time, by the way. Lionel must be thrilled with the publicity that his retarded daughter is getting. The good news is that if she dies, they can probably bury her in a shoebox (of course, I don’t wish that on anybody … except Barry Bonds).

Urinal Ettiquette

I received this from a friend, and wanted to share - I found it hysterical:

Urinal Etiquette

Awareness is the key to avoiding everything from terrorism and wars to bathroom embarrassment. This is by no means a complete list but to date 12/8/2006 this is what we’ve seen so far. But this may help you avoid embarrassment as well as prepare you for what you may see out there. It can be traumatic.

Mourner –The most proper position according to urinal etiquette. Both hands where they should be and looking downward as if you are mourning the loss of a loved one.

Leaner – This urinal patron feels the need to use one arm to steady themselves on the wall. Someone of this class usually also subscribes to the Grunter classification.

Grunter – A Grunter can be mixed with any other class, but involves a lot of vocalization while they perform the duties at the urinal. Usually consist of grunts, groans, and general sounds of enjoyment. Too much for being alone usually with a few other men in the room.

Look Ma, No Hands – The LMNH is a very proud individual. They place both hands on their hips with their arms at 30 degree angles allowing gravity to work its magic. Often is associated with a LookeeLoo and a Gabber.

Napper – A Napper enjoys the feel of cold tiles against him as he leaves his gift to the urinal gods. He places both arms on the wall behind the urinal from hand to elbow and usually places his head onto his arms. Sort of a mix between the LMNH and a Leaner.

Runner – This patron acts as if he is running a marathon while at the urinal. Heavy breathing and sweating are common signs that this person is a Runner.

LookeeLoo – A LookeeLoo is an individual that feels the need to peek over at the patron next to them at the urinal. No one truly knows their reasons, do they want a peek? Do they just want to see who is there? It’s a mystery to be sure.

Gabber – A man that feels the need to talk to the individual next to them in the urinal stalls. This conversation is never interesting and usually consist about a stupid joke about work, the weather, or the act of peeing itself. This is a vast breach of etiquette and should never be done; especially if you mix a Gabber with a LookeeLoo.

Swayer – Very simple classification where the man at the stall feels the need to sway back and forth while they do their duty.

Spitter – A patron that feels the need to hawk a loogie in the urinal stall. Not only rude but disgusting and should never be done. If you do this, stop immediately. Some people do not appreciate seeing your mucus while they are using the urinal.

Full Mooner – Mostly seen among the youngest of urinal goers; the Full Mooner drops everything for the entire world to see while they do their business. This is the largest breach of etiquette known to man today and should be punishable by death.

Flubber – From the phrase “to flub”. Someone who can’t aim and ends up peeing on the wall, sides of the urinal. This patron results in future users standing further away from the urinal which increases the chances of the LookeeLoo.

Stalker – A person that always seems to be at the urinal at the exact same time as you regardless of the time of the day. Whenever you feel the need to go, you can be sure this man will be right there waiting for you.

Ripper – This patron always seems to let out a stream of flatulence while you are standing next to him while performing his duties at the urinal.

Ghoster – The person that seems to do nothing but stand there usually due to pee shyness. But don’t worry, there is help for you: www.paruresis.com/.

Hiker - While not technically at the stall itself, this patron will travel far distances to find an empty restroom.

6 Wicked Things

OK – I’ve been tagged. Now, I am going to do this thingy, but I am NOT tagging anyone else. It goes against my belief structure. However, if anybody wants to do this as well, please, go right ahead.

THE RULES: Each player of this game starts with the “6 wicked things about you”. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 wicked things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says “you are tagged” in their comments and tell them to read your blog.

1. I HATE ham. I can’t stand the sight, smell, taste, or feel of ham. I got sick on ham as a child on a few occasions, and I’m guessing this is probably why I feel this way. My former coworkers (at Lockheed) gave me a picture of ham as a going away present … not sure if they did it out of love or were happy to see me go, though.

2. I once got hit by a car when I was crossing the street on my way to play street hockey over at a friend’s house. There was a change in traffic patterns at the place I crossed, and I didn’t realize this. The lady hit me, and I got thrown about 10 feet. I ended up getting up, and continued on my way to play hockey, even though the lady was hysterical. I thought that would be it, BUT the lady knew my mom, and called her to make sure I was ok. When I came back from the hockey game, my mom was waiting for me at the front door – worried sick about me. Oops.

3. At a New Year’s party when I was in high school, I learned the whole “Beer before liquor, never sicker rule,” as I drank a few cans of beer, then switched to vodka and orange juice … and then, when the orange juice ran out, I attempted to drink vodka and milk … I eventually threw up all over myself, a couch, and the living room floor .

4. I have repeatedly given the “Dutch Oven” treatment to my wife in the past … somehow, I have grown out of this … I’m thinking because I no longer find this as funny as I used to.

5. I once worked at a place for 10 minutes … before I quit. I was in 9th grade, and it was a restaurant that I enjoyed going to. When I found out some disgusting “behind-the-scene” occurrences, I ended up telling the manager that I would be right back, and I ended up walking home … never to return.

6. When I worked as a P.R. intern for the Eagles in 1996, I decided to skip a Christmas party that was being thrown by Rodney Peete for players and staff, mainly because I was getting sick of the hours I was working (for free, by the way). I came to work the next Monday, and found out that Michael Jordan was at the party and he took pictures with all the staff members … I’m an idiot.

Who Does Number 2 Work For?

(This was a post I had done a few years ago on my old website, but since I just started working at a new company, I think it is fitting, as now I will have to figure out when and where to … well, you’ll get the picture after reading this post.)

I wanted to put together an observation that demonstrated my quirkiness, was funny, and was a topic that many of you could either agree with wholeheartedly, or vehemently disagree with. Without much luck, I decided to take a bathroom break, and that is when I had my "epiphany." As some of you know, I have a certain quirk about going to the bathroom, and I know some of you are with me on this, and some of you are against me.

O.K., my quirk isn't anything disgusting, as is usually the case. It's just that I don't like taking a growler in public restrooms, work restrooms, or any restrooms outside of my house. I find that my best works of "spin art" take place in the confines of my home commode, particularly, the one upstairs. There are times in which I am not at home and nature calls, and I will be forced to drop the trunks in foreign places. This usually happens at work. When I was employed by Penn State Delaware County, I knew the best times of finding an empty restroom at just about any place on campus. In fact, sometimes I would travel clear across campus, just so I could enjoy peace and quiet whilst hanging bananas.

When I left Penn State for Lockheed Martin, my biggest fear would be having to use lavatory facilities that would either be crowded all day, or ones with inconsistent usage - ones in which I wouldn't be able to gauge when a good time to "sink the Bismarck" would be. My fears were warranted, as there seems to never be a time when I can walk into a vacant bathroom to take care of my business. In fact, on numerous occasions, I have traveled to all four restroom facilities in a row in order to find one with nobody in it, so that I could "take the Browns to the Super Bowl."

Unfortunately, once a vacant restroom is found, often times somebody will enter while I'm in the middle of "drowning the brown." I hate this with a passion. I am like a church mouse with this, in that I will stop my crapping until that person leaves. Of course, it is entirely possible that more people will come in - I have spent 25 minutes or more in my own stink a few times, waiting for the coast to be clear. But the thing that pisses me off the most is when I'm in one stall, and somebody else comes in and takes a seat next to me in the other stall. I think it should be common courtesy to not occupy the stall next to one that is being used. I need to be focused to get my job done, and I can't do that when the person next to me is releasing mud eels. It's just not in it for me to be able to do this.

Now, I know some of you take great pride in sharing your crapping experiences with others in the restroom. Some of you go out of the way to be loud, obnoxious, and absolutely smelly in the bathroom. A precious few of you will have conversations with others while "planting the corn." Are you kidding me? How is this possible? Please - this is a private thing. I refuse to let my wife come into the bathroom at home while I'm "feeding the dung beetles." It is my time to be alone, relaxed, and enjoying the smell. I can't do that with others around, forcing their stench on me. No offense, I'm sure you are all great guys, but I don't want to know how your poopie smells or sounds.

Of course, there are some people who take the quirk to a whole new level. First of all, let me say that I am not making this up. Some people actually wrap their hand in toilet paper, and catch their poop so that it does not make any noise. That is truly disgusting and I find no redeeming qualities in that at all. I can accept the fact that some people layer the toilet with paper so that it doesn't splash and it muffles the sound, but people who catch their poop should really consider some psychiatric help, because something isn't right.

Now, before I wrap this observation up, I have some suggestions on how my public dumping experience can be improved. First of all, companies, restaurants, and bars should eliminate stalls, and make personal bathrooms in restrooms with a real door, and real walls, so that the sound and smell can be stifled a little bit. Secondly, there should be some sort of white noise being pumped in these rooms, so that the sound will be hidden even more. I am sure these probably aren't the most efficient, both from a monetary and spatial-use perspective, but my ass and I would surely appreciate it.

Los and Smoke's Bogus Journey

This Saturday, I had the “pleasure” of hangin’ out with the Reverend Smokin’ Steve – albeit it was at a Philadelphia Kixx soccer game, but still. I was looking forward to the free t-shirt, some good indoor soccer, and possibly checkin’ out some of the MILF’s at the game. Little did I know, it would be an experience in itself just trying to get to the game.

In case some of you don’t know, the Rev is the backup P.A. announcer for the Kixx, and as of yet, he hasn’t had the opportunity to call a game. Plus, Smokin’ has never experienced a KIXX game before, and the team gave him free tickets, so that he could get a better feel for the job responsibilities of the P.A. announcer.

Smokin’ chose last night’s game, which would’ve normally been a good choice, considering the free t-shirt giveaway. HOWEVER, thanks to the short-sightedness of the cities athletic teams, schedulers, and coordinators, the KIXX game (as well as the Flyers game) started at 7:00 p.m. … around the same time as the Army vs. Navy football game was ending.

For those of you unfamiliar, Army/Navy is a huge college football game, usually held in Philly. On the weekend of the game, the city, and South Philly in particular, is overrun by people representing Army and Navy. Most people know that during game-time, it is probably a good idea to avoid South Philly (the location of the stadiums). One would even think that the people who schedule games and events in the other stadiums (the Spectrum, the Wachovia Center, etc.) would either move their games back to maybe 8:00 or 9:00 to accommodate the fans leaving and entering, OR just not bother scheduling games on that day at all.

However, for some reason, these schedulers were about as inept as overweight football referees. It was traumatic, to say the least. I think it may have taken the Rev and me about an hour to find a parking spot … in a location we didn’t even know would be open by the time the KIXX game was over. We had to walk about another 15 minutes to get to the Spectrum, and were lucky enough to make it to our seats just before the start of the game.

We were the lucky ones. Throughout the first half, and into the third quarter, I saw families just making it to their seats for the first time. They had it worse than we did. They got ripped off by missing the entire first half of the game, AND having to go through the headache of dealing with traffic cops and event staff members who had no idea what they were supposed to do. Although I have no proof, I blame John Street (mainly, because I blame everything on John Street).

The rest of the night went much more smoothly. Smokin’ even caught a soccer ball.

Stoppage Time

Nice Beaver!
So, there’s been a lot of talk and pictures about the recent escapades of the tri-captains of Bimbo Nation – Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, and Brittany Spears. Seriously, I haven’t seen this much roast beef since I was at the deli. There is now an “argument” or discussion going on as to whether these three rocket-scientists accidentally didn’t wear underwear. Seriously? First of all, why are we spending this much time on these mentally challenged women that make retards blush? Can’t we just enjoy the beaver shots? Obviously, they are doing this on purpose to create publicity for their talent-less asses (as pretty as they may be). Can we just try and ignore them (maybe not the pics)?

Last Day!
Normally, I’m pretty good with my emotions. But, I have this feeling that I’m going to get a little teary-eyed when I leave work today (as you may know, I’m switching jobs). I’m not going to miss the actual work, but I’ve made a lot of good friends here, and the thought of not seeing them every day – I know it’s going to be tough. I am sure I will make friends at Vanguard – heck it’s a great company, which means it has great employees. Plus, I had the same issues and concerns when I left Penn State (I am still friends with many people there). I will miss you, office clowners!!!!

The Sad State of Philadelphia Sports
I try not to write too much about sports here, because quite frankly, many of you could care less about sports. However, when my city’s best chance at a championship is basically the Philadelphia Phillies, I think I deserve to rant a little. What happened to my teams???? Usually, they would string me out an entire season before breaking my heart? Now, they just throw in the towel long before the midway point. Is this how Detroit Lions fans feel every year? If so, I am NOT a fan of this! Granted, with the lack of offseason moves by the Sixers, we expected the outcomes that we are getting. And sure, the Flyers are slow, but the team is usually competitive – BUT NOT THIS YEAR! Weren’t the Eagles supposed to come back hungry? They look famished to me. Do I really need to start getting excited for the Philadelphia Soul, and maybe the next big race-horse from the tri-state area? Ugh!