Jessicca Biel and Baseball

Thanks to the rain, the struggling economy, and various other reasons beyond my control, I basically got paid Thursday night to watch basketball. The Pittsburgh-Xavier game was specifically intriguing, coming down to the final minutes. Pitt pulled it out, thanks to an incredible deep three by Levance Fields. I don't know if it is just me, but does Fields remind anyone else of Khalid El Amin? A short, pudgy, senior point guard, who does a good job of ball control, hits the big shot, lets the stars do their work, and plays with grit and fire.

Opening Day is rapidly approaching and I am still trying in desperation to land myself a set of tickets. I'm damn near tempted to pay some asshole off Craigslist, 90 bucks for two standing room seats, as tickets seem to be hard to come by. If all goes as planned though, I will be at Sliders or Pickels around noon, enjoying the pregame festivities, and madness because it will probably be the only day all year the Orioles are tied for first place. Last Opening Day, I survived a near death experience, got weirded out by Jen and Siobhan's intense crush on Kevin Millar, bounced around multiple bars, and drank beers with a man dressed like an American flag. Upon returning home to Towson, I was even more pumped because I thought Booboo was having a party, with tons of free beer and lots of hot girls, turns out none of this was true, and Creech just wanted to watch re-runs of The Hills. I in turn, went to sleep on the couch, because a pitchfork to my foot is probably more amusing and definitely more interesting thanThe Hills.

Oh, I am also looking for someone to go to Opening Day with, so if you don't mind most likely overpaying for a ticket, actually read my pointless ramblings, and will root for the Orioles, because the Yankees define all that is evil in society, well than holla at yer boy.

I have been talking lots of baseball lately, with basically anyone who will listen, and the other day at work, I began talking with a customer about the Cape Cod league. The Cape Cod league, is an amatuer baseball league, where many college stars play during the summer. It is basically everything that defines baseball and the true greater points of the game. At some point during our conversation, and this guy actually knew what he was talking about, the movie Summer Catch came up. This guy said he was a little bit embarrassed to be bringing up a movie he likes that features Freddie Prinze Jr as the star, but he couldn't help himself. I looked at it in a completly different way though, how can a movie about baseball with Jessicca Biel, at least not be worth mentioning from time to time. Seriously, baseball and Jessicca Biel, that's all you need, really, I'm sold.

You know it's a totally awesome, raging, out of control, insane, one for the ages, Friday night when at 2 in the morning, I am blogging, and facebook chatting with Steve Shaver. Holla!!

Highlighters, High Life, and Hospitals

While my means of income, has been a big interference with my ability to watch basketball religiously over the past few days, I have still been able to enjoy a good portion of March Madness. In addition to that, most of my recent viewing has taken part in fine drinking establishments, with over priced domestic beers. But nevertheless, it is not the rising price of beer or the upsets, or thrilling finishes, that has caught my attention. I am truly surprised, and somewhat perplexed with the amount of people who show up to the bar with their bracket in their right hand and a highlighter in their left. What is most interesting about these people, is they seem to be the one's with the least interest in the overall outcome of the game. Except for the few times where there is a loud spontaneous uproar amidst the more dedicated fans, it seems as if they simply have no idea what is going on, other than highlighting in their bracket, so they can use it as a conversation piece with others strolling around them.

Now, the one's watching the game more intensely, with more passion, seem to never have their brackets in hand. It's almost as if the guy in the corner of the bar, watching all three tv sets, without a bracket, actually knows the picks he made, and doesn't need a constant reminder. For a minute on Friday, I was behind the bar at my work, and a particular gentleman, watching the games sported a sheepish look, nervous tick, and quiet demeanor. Towards the end of the Oklahoma State game, he left his two buddies and ordered a shot of GM. According to Jim, who eventually came on as the bartender, he did this on two other occasions at the closing minutes of several other games. For some reason, I think something else was on his mind when he was taking shot after shot of GM and not whether he should use a blue highlighter or a yellow highlighter to mark in the winner on his bracket.

At one point, Saturday night, I received a text message from my buddy Damon. Now, for those of you who do not know, Damon is someone who would not be brininging his bracket to the bar, although he most definitely would be at the bar. At first, I assumed it was regarding Purdue or Texas, or another one of his bets covering the spread, or something along those lines. However, when I opened the message and read it, it said "I am at the Applebees sitting between a retard and a fat chick drinking high life." Now, at this point, I didn't realize my manager was standing right behind me, who immidiately yelled at me for playing with my phone, but I simply showed him the text message, and he said "That guy is awesome" and was no longer mad. Shortly, after putting my phone back in my pocket, I got to thinking. Don't you think it would be possible to make a totally awesome High Life commercial with that scenario, except you substitute Damon with Creech? The possibilites would be endless.


Today, I spent a lovely 14 hours in a hospital bed.

600lb women and Sight Seeing

Despite all the madness, or very little there of, that is going on in the world of college basketball, I gotta give some props to my new main man Julian Tavarez. Tavarez, the volatile former reliever for the Red Sox and Braves, who compared signing with the Nationals to being at a bar at 4 A. M. and taking home a 600 lb woman. In his mind the Nationals are that 600 lb woman who at 4A.M. somehow found a way to look like J-Lo, because it was late and he was drunk and desperate. Awesome

I also gotta give props to Morgan State. Even when your losing by nearly 20 points in the second half, you manage to get lots of national face time for flipping over Blake Griffin like it was the WWF. We from Bawlmore and don't F around on the court. And just for the record is Blake Griffin really a redheaded black kid??

So somehow, and I'm still not really sure how exactly, I ended up going on a Baltimore sight seeing tour with Bobby and Booboo on Wednesday. Push comes to shove, I found out that our elementary school teachers lied to us about Fort McHenry, no one should ever want to check out Edgar Allan Poe's house, unless of course they want to be on an episode of The Wire, and despite what Bobby says their are no monkeys in the aquarium.


Whoever decided to put St. Patricks Day, Stilling's birthday, and March Madness all in the same week is awesome in my book.

I stopped by Gloomy Daze yesterday with Steve, to watch some of the first round action and I must say I really do not miss working there. That place quite possibly has some of the most unhappiest customers ever dining there. Just go in there, look around at the people sitting at the bar and in the restaurant, and all you will see is a bunch of ugly, weird, and strange looking people sitting around uncomfortably not having a good time. I swear there are probably happier and better looking people in your local morgue. Big Juicy did make an appearance though and the next thing I know, him and Franny are sitting with a bunch of high school boys in ties.

The Madness Has Begun because were all Irish today

The NCAA tournament begins Thursday, and I don't think there is anything greater than March Madness. Not only does it encourage idiots to gamble, but it also provides thrilling upsets, unsung heroes, and great bar specials. Plus, this year there is no Billy Packer.

I will have to meet up with Pat at some point this week and discuss running another pool. Pool's are always a fun and interesting thing to do this time of year, because there's always one idiot who makes some of the most absurd selections imaginable. Usually it's someone like Shouldice who pencils Holy Cross into the Final Four, because he believes they have God on their side and with God on your side you can not lose a basketball game. Also, somehow there's always some lady from Corey's office who is atop the leaderboard throughout most of the tournament, and than falls apart once we get to the Elite Eight. One also has to watch out for Quigley's bracket as well, because even with his animal instincts it's almost as if ole Quigley has the mind of a man who knows quite possibly more about college basketball, bars, and betting on college basketball, than anyone else out there. For all those interested, I will probably be running the pool, 20$ a bracket, holler at yer boy.

Thanks to some Saint named Patrick, we all get to celebrate our Irish heritage this week, and most people I know do this by consuming in unhealthy amount of alcohol. I'm kind of half tempted to celebrate Tuesday at one of the various bars on Harford Road, for the sole reason of probably running into Anthony. Anthony, is the chef at my work, and said he loves St. Patricks day because he gets to stumble around the bar's near his house, and piss off all the drunken white people by saying stupid things that only white people should say and being the only black guy dressed in green. I'm sure it would be quite entertaining, but the last time I went to a bar on Harford Road, I ended up with a 100 some dollar bar tab, a "girlfriend" who wouldn't accept the fact that we were not dating, and a hangover from hell. Gotta love Dead Freddies.

A lot of people I know decided to celebrate St. Patrick's day this weekend. I kind of half attempted to go out Saturday night, but drove around cluelessly trying to find some hotel that everyone gave bad directions too, even a cab driver. Although in defense of the cab driver, I don't know if it were his directions that were bad or if it were my interpretation of his thick Nigerian accent but either way, I ended up driving around aimlessly for twenty minutes, than just saying screw it and going home. Looking back on it, I probably should have just found some bar in Canton and hung out there, because it was ADub's birthday, and according to LSilv, Julia's drunken dancing managed to outdo everything she was doing the whole night, which being that it's Julia were talking about, is quite the statement. Plus, once I started driving home it turned into the international don't pick up the phone for Geilfuss night. But, on the plus side I made a lot of progress in my career mode in MLB the Show and John Geilfuss is now a starting pitcher for the West Tennessee Diamond Jaxx, with a 98 mile per hour fastball. Yeah, I'm a dork.

On the topic of St. Patrick's day, I have always wanted a bar to hire someone, dress them up as a Leperchaun, and have them throw things at the stupid drunken idiots that wander around the bar. I think Smedium or Ross would be the perfect candidate for this job and Creech would probably end up with a black eye from being hit so many times.

The Madness Has Begun

Were nearing in on one of my favorite times of the year, and the madness has already begun. Baylor stunned Kansas in the second round of the Big 12 tournament, to keep their chances of dancing alive, at least for another game. Seriously, is there anything better in the wide world of sports than the opening two days of the NCAA tournament. 32 of the closest, most hyped, most intense, basketball games played all year in just two days. And to make things even better, this year Chief Kingstaillionsims, will be playing in the tournament. Hopefully, one day he teams up with God Shamgod, the former star of the Providence Friars, to make the coolest team in all of professional sports.

Last year at this time I found myself quite annoyed with the coverage of the NCAA tournament by local sports bars. Many of them boasted that they had all the games on advertisements but I would walk in and "The Price is Right" would be on the main tv, while I wanted to watch Western Kentucky pull off a last second miracle. It was very frustrating but eventually, I found Buffalo Wild Wings in White Marsh, and all my needs were satisfied .

I have to say congratulations to Brian NcNamee, despite being one of the biggest assholes in the world and one of the one's responsible for helping liven the steroids era in baseball, you have now established yourself as one of the creepiest people in the world. You now claim, that you injected Roger Clemens with syringes while in a hot tub, and have the syringes to prove it. Mark my words, if I ever inject a half naked man with a syringe, and keep that syringe among my personal possessions for more than a year, you have the right to never speak to me again, I will not be offended. What in the world would ever make a man keep a syringe that he injected steroids into another man with, just perplexes my mind and also I have to wonder one thing. Where would one keep a used syringe for such a long period of time?? I don't think I actually want to know the answer to that question. Seriously I think I would rather hang out with Norman Bates from Pyscho than McNamee.

Some people have asked me about the title of my blog. And what I want to ask them is "Did you watch the second half of the Lakers-Rockets game last night, when Ron Artest and Shane Battier got owned as they watched Kobe put up 31 points in the games final 24 minutes?

Lying to Random Strangers

I was at this crowded bar in Baltimore city this weekend, when a rather frail lady probably in her forties approached me and asked me something along the lines of why I was not dancing, or singing along to the song, they had playing over the loudspeakers. I told her it was the first time I had ever heard the song and attempted to go back to my business of speaking with the people I was with. However, for some reason, this was not an acceptable answer for the lady. According to her, this song was all the rage like 5 years ago, and that for it to be my first time hearing the song, I must have been from Ohio or somewhere were I guess rap music is not played, although I have a feeling that even in Ohio, rap music is played. Anyways, at this point I decided to have a little fun. I told her, that I was not from Ohio, but from Wyoming. At first, she did not seem to believe me, so she began to challenge me with several questions. The first question was if I'm really from Wyoming, what city or town did I grow up in, and I responded "Winchester.....it's about 20 miles south of Laramie." Now, I don't know if Winchester is an actual town in Wyoming, but I know the Cowboys play in Laramie, and I figured it was safe to assume that this lady knew neither one of those things. Her second and final question, was even worse. She said, "Well, if you really are from their you would know the park I checked out the one time, I was traveling out west, and went through Wyoming." I responded, "Was it Yellowstone?" Now, at this point she became uber excited and even smacked her friend on the arm to tell her friend that I was a country boy, born and raised in Wyoming. I'm not sure exactly why the fact that I knew Yellowstone was in Wyoming convinced her my statement was true, but it did. I mean in reality, all I did was guess the country's biggest and most well known National Park, but chances are I could have said "Rucker Park" and she would have been just as convinced. Nevertheless, we conversed for several more minutes, and I had to explain that I had been in Baltimore for five years now, and it had caused me to lose my accent. Eventually, the conversation began to dwindle, and the lady said "My friend is waving me to the dance floor, you should come find me." I looked at her and said with a smile "It's a possibility." At this point, I finished the rest of my indiscriminate light beer, closed my tabbed, and walked out of the bar, with the realization of how much fun it is to lie to complete strangers.

Several years ago, I flew down to West Palm Beach with my buddies Corey, Matt, and Josh. Josh's dad had a house down there, and we were set on enjoying the nice Florida weather, and a few days of rest and relaxation. At one point, we headed out to some night club. Being that we were out of town and wouldn't be seeing anyone we know, we decided to come up with some story about how we were traveling businessmen, and somehow we caught the attention of four attractive young females. As the four of us, start spreading out, each of us focusing on doing work, the stories became more and more complex. On our car ride home, which almost took us to Miami in a monsoon, we figured out that these girls probably would not be hanging out with us again like they were supposed to, because over the course of the night, I was an emerging 27 year old Title agent, who was taking my three employees out for training, and too look at new housing developments in the West Palm Area. Matt, was the Vice President, of a major Real Estate firm, in the Baltimore area and Josh was a Columbian drug lord, pedaling cocaine from Columbia to West Palm. We stayed down there for a few more days, a police lineup, and a 24 hour drive back to Baltimore, that revolved around breaking down in some god awful redneck town of a place, where they chase birds around with brooms, and reccomend going to a recreation center for a mechanic.


I logged onto Facebook, today, and couldn't help but notice all the people complaining about it being Monday. There were numerous "status updates" about people bitching about how theyhate Mondays and making it seem like their job is really that awful and I guess wanting some sort of sympathy from their devoted facebook stalkers. Seriously, you have just had the whole weekend off, to relax and do whatever it is that amuses you and now you have to bitch about going back into the place that pays your bills. I don't know maybe the bitching makes them feel better about themselves or something but it peturbs me. Now, I know you could come back and say something about how I would understand if I had a "real job" but I don't think I would. You have a job, you know your schedule, you choose to do it, get over it and stop your bitching. I just kept thinking the whole time of that scene in Office Space where Peter asks his neighbor Lawrence if anyone at his work ever says "Do you have a case of the Mondays" and Lawrence responds by saying no and if they did they would probably get their ass kicked. I'm not really sure of the exact quote, but it's something like that, and I didn't really have the motivation to look it up, but I'm sure you get my point.

Speaking of Facebook, I read today, where the Philadelphia Eagles, fired an employee after six years of dedicated hard work, for posting on facebook that the Eagles are idiots for letting go of Brian Dawkins. His actual post was "Dan is (expletive) devastated about Dawkins signing with Denver....Dam Eagles R Retarded." I found this amusing because, the Eagles ownership has kept Andy Reid around for more than six years, even though he has literally made the team look retarded on a national level of the past few years through his horrible use of the timeclock, poor play calling, and just looking like an ugly fat slob. But, if some guy working the gate says their retarded for letting go of one of the best safeties in the NFL, he gets the axe, via a phone call. Only in Philly, and just for the record, I also found it amusing because the guy couldn't even spell damn correctly, but that's another story, and probably why he's working the gate.

The Drunk Liar Who Makes Better Predictions than Jay

To be completely honest, I probably watch too much television in my day-to-day life. However, Sportscenter, College Basketball, the NBA, and The Simpsons, do very little when it comes to informing you on the recent trends in the weather. This presented itself as a problem for me this previous weekend. So I typically judge the weather by the current temperature, and the temperature of the past few days. So Saturday morning when I awoke, I stepped outside, and being that I am fairly cold blooded, not quite entirely cold blooded as Stilling is, I decided that I would be just fine wearing a polo and flip-flops when I went out after work Saturday night. Shortly, after reaching this decision I packed my clothes and was off to work. About 50 minutes, later thanks to some assholes turning all of I-83, into one lane for nearly three and half feet of construction work that two tiny Hispanic workers were doing, I arrived at work and the first words out of my general manager Chris were "ready for the snow storm tonight??" I soon found out that he was being serious, and I in turn, was screwed. Next thing I know, its nearly midnight and I am walking to Canton square in flip-flops and a bright blue polo, looking like some prick in the Florida Keys. To make things worse, at last call I got separated from the people I was with, and was standing outside the bar freezing my ass off, trying to find out a place to go and seek hibernation and warmth for the night. As I'm standing in here, I hear some guy in a red SUV yell something about some douche bag who is standing around by himself in the snow while wearing flip-flops. Being that it was safe to assume that I was the only one he could be referring too, I looked up to see my buddy Ted from work, who saved my night, by saving me from the cold and from spending an additional 5-7bucks on the short cab ride to my buddy Eric's house in Fells point.

As I mentioned in one of my more recent blogs, some buddy of Steve's informed me about the wonders of the sport of bobsledding. At the time, this kid seemed like the world's most knowledgeable person when it came to bobsledding. However, the next morning, all of this turned out to be a complete lie and misrepresentation of the truth. Despite all of this, one of his erroneous claims became true this past week, as the U.S. captured gold in the bobsledding World Championships. So I guess what I'm saying is even if your piss ass blacked out drunk, lying your ass off in a desperation attempt to provide amusement for yourself only, and just throwing out random incoherent statements, you have a better chance of making a right prediction than Jay does.

I went over to Bobby and Booboo's apartment last night for the world's shortest lived and hyped birthday party. I enjoyed some damn tasty lasagna, a funny movie, and even some good conversation about unemployed, clingy, 30 year old's, all in terms of setting up the hype for Booboo's birthday. After all this, the clock eventually struck midnight, and the celebration began. Thirty minutes later, Booboo was asleep, Bobby was brushing his teeth, and I was putting on my boots and getting ready to come home. At least the lasagna was good though.

Lately, whenever I have gone out into a social setting with a group of people, there have been several people that have approached me, in efforts to establish themselves and earn an entrance into my blog. While, I appreciate their attempts, it is in no means a compliment, to be named or written about in one of my blogs. While, some people, have achieved great recognition, there are many people who I have insulted, others I have made jealous, and others I have just ignored. In reality, one should not take offense if they are not mentioned, because chances are if I am talking to you and even acknowledging you, I like you and one day, one way or another you will find your way into my blog. It really shouldn't be too hard either, because I just about like everyone there is, except of course, Hines Ward, Osama Bin Laden, and Rosie O'Donnell, so unless your in that small group, your chance to shine is one day awaiting.