The Man Who Does Work At The Retirement Home

At some point yesterday afternoon, I was standing on the balcony of Aaron Payne's apartment with my buddy James and a few other people. The two of us were talking about a variety of things, when someone noticed there was a rather old man going for a swim in the pool at Towson Woods. This man was swimming by himself and was probably in his 70's. Instantly the old man became the topic of the conversation and the majority of the people on the balcony were quite surprised that someone that age would have the audacity to live in Towson Woods and it's at this point that James stepped up to the plate. James claimed that when he becomes an old man he wants to live in Towson Woods and sit out on his patio with a sign saying "Old Man For Rent" His hope is that he will be able to use his old age to instill valuable lessons of wisdom and knowledge to any one that cares. I found it to be quite an interesting approach, I mean old people need jobs too, and why not be a free agent and be available to sign with the highest bidder, while enjoying your age.

Now, this conversation provoked another and this one was about retirement homes. There was a lady at Payne's apartment, named Ms. Sharon and Ms. Sharon was Ms. Sharon because well she had quite a few years on the average person at the party. Nevertheless, Ms. Sharon was some serious eye candy as well, and the term cougar most definitely applied to her. I'm sure the Jacoby's would have been all over her had they of been at the party. Anyways, Ms. Sharon started telling us about her uncle. Good ol' Uncle Woodrow Wilson Myers. Supposedly, ol' Woody is 92 and lives at an assisted living center somewhere in the area. Despite being the ripe old age of 92, ol' Woody can still walk on his own, still is healthy enough to keep his shoulders back and chest out, and even has a full head of hair. With the help of those characteristics, ol' Woody is supposedly quite the ladies man at the assisted living center. Every time the son of gun goes into the dining hall, he gets all these old hags all smitten over him. Within a matter of seconds they are licking their dentures, hiking up their britches, and sliding their walkers under the dining room table in hopes to catch the eye of good ol' Woody. Throughout the course of this conversation one could just see James deeply developing a sense of awe and an aspiring man crush on the 92 year old playa known as Woody.

As a result of Dagro moving back to Frederick and joining up with the staff at Glory Day's Frederick, the Beer Olympics eventually came to an end and turned into an epic battle of survivor flip cup between Glory Days Towson and Glory Days Frederick. Each side started with eight members and it soon became quite obvious that when it comes to flip cup, Frederick is simply playing at a JV level. Thanks to the solid core of myself, Payne, and a little blond named Blair, who could definitely hold her own with the big boys, we were able to pit the two roommates against each other in a battle for the ages. The DJ even stopped spinning to make an announcement so every one could watch as Payne ended the game rightly in the gauntlet against Dagro. And we all know the words that instantly followed "Thanks for Playing."

I was at the Orioles game Friday, enjoying a beer or two, and they had a sign posted in front of Sliders that bothered me. Damon even mentioned it in his most recent blog and I don't like the way he put together the whole paragraph, although I can't say I'm a bit surprised. Now, the sign said "All Beers 2 for 5$" And right under it, the sign said Pabst 3$ and Natty Boh's 2 for 4$. Stilling and McGrain kept telling me that the fact that they put the Pabst and Natty Boh prices on the sign, rightfully explained that all beer except Pabst and Natty Boh were two for five and I understood what they were saying. But push comes to shove, the first thing you read is all beer is two for five bucks, when quite frankly, all beer is not two for five bucks and therefore the sign is preposterous. Am I right or am I right? They simply could put "Beer 2 for 5$" and I would have been happy, but they threw in the world all and it was just atrocious.

Six Pack Sunday

In the summer of 2004, I had a weekly ritual with Shouldice that for some reason we believed was centered around religion. Every Sunday was Six Pack Sunday. Now, here is what Six Pack Sunday's entailed. First of all, the two of us had this theory, and to be honest I truly think we firmly believed it, that Sunday was God's day, and if God were to drink beer, God would drink "good" beer out of a bottle, and he wouldn't drink more than six. So every Sunday the two of us would meet up in some remote location, most likely the parking lot in front of Towson High or the parking lot in front of Sports Authority, and than we would venture out to purchase our six pack. Being that we were under the philosophy that God would only drink "good" beer we usually resorted to buying a six pack of Miller Lite or Rolling Rock, because when you've spent the whole summer consuming an ungodly amount of Beast Light and Schaffers Light, Miller Lite and Rolling Rock seem like the nectar of the gods. Plus, our parent's drank Miller Lite and Rolling Rock and we had another theory that if they were drinking it, it must be good. So once we found a place that would accept our horrible form of identification, we would than drive around aimlessly waiting for the sun to go down. Since we were 19 and both returning home from our freshman year of college, we lacked a lot of places to consume adult beverages, so once the sun had set, we would go to Riderwood Elementary and slowly sip on our "good bottled beer" because that's what God would be doing if he were in Towson. That was another rule we had to six pack Sunday, you couldn't chug. We had done enough chugging during the week, and plus God wouldn't chug beer, so we had to sip. Throughout the course of the summer, we tried to bring other people into the idea of Six Pack Sunday, but most of them just looked at us like we were two insane stricken kids, especially when we started to explain our theory regarding the day. Eventually the summer came to an end and Shouldice returned to Frostburg, and the next time he was in Towson for a while, well the two of us were getting an apartment together, and well, everyone knows what went on in that place.


I was watching Baseball Tonight the other day, and the Colorado Rockies have a fine young outfielder by the name of Dexter Fowler. I have never had the opportunity to meet good ol' Dex, but I have had the opportunity to meet another Fowler. Shelly Fowler. It was the spring of 2003 and my parents headed out of town for the weekend, my younger brother was also out of town that weekend, so I had the house to myself. Now, when a 17 year old high school senior has the house to himself for the weekend, a 17 year old high school senior has a party. Various kids from Towson High School are coming into my humble abode and my buddy Dane shows up with a blond haired 15 year old name Shelly. After several rounds of quarters, I started to catch the attention of this young blond. After several more rounds of quarters, someone at the party got the word, that there was an even bigger party right down the street at Danie Mosca's house and my whole party was soon on the way. Next thing I know, it's nearly 3 A.M. and I'm walking back into my house hand-in-hand with Ms. Fowler, only to find one surprise. My parents had decided to return home early and my Dad is sitting at the kitchen table drinking one of the Miller High Life's that were left from the party. At 17, this was the first time I had ever encountered my parental units after a few adult beverages, and it was a bit intimidating for myself, and than there's Shelly. The poor girl, realized what was going on and was trying to hide herself behind me. My father than asked me to introduce him to my girlfriend and when I than explained that it wasn't my girlfriend in fact she came with another guy, the poor girl got even more embarrassed. To make matters worse, we called Dane back, and he looped back to take the girl home. I mean it was kinda a low blow on my part,taking the girl from the guy and than having him take her home, but I think the kid got over it, were good friends to the day. As for Shelly, well I got her number via a piece of paper from Dane in class sometime the next week, and hung out in her hot tub one day. But, she soon realized that 17 year old boys can be horrible people at times, and we went our separate ways. Several years later though, I did receive a phone call from her, she had had a few too many and forgotten who John G was in her cell phone and decided to make a phone call and find out and that was the last time I ever heard from the lovely Shelly Fowler.

Thanks For Playing

I was out and about yesterday afternoon, when I received a glorious phone call. The phone call was from my main man Stills and he informed me that if I could behave myself and act as a responsible adult, I would have the opportunity to receive four free tickets to the O's game. After assuring Stills that I possessed the skills necessary to function as a mature and responsible adult, I was given the number of some lady named Susan who had four tickets. Immediately, I called this lady and was soon on my way to Roland Park to pick them up. Now, around this time the sky was rather gray and the percentage of heavy rain was quite high, but nonetheless, this did not come in my way of taking up an opportunity to receive free tickets to watch the Orioles play baseball. With four tickets now in my sole possession, I now had one responsibility remaining. Find 3 people that want to go. I spent some time making phone calls, and to my dismay, I found out that your average person worries way too much about the rain when it comes to baseball. Seriously, it's just rain, nothing but a little water, it really shouldn't ruin your day. Nevertheless, finding people to go became quite troublesome, and I couldn't make use of all four tickets, but, I got a hold of Siobhan and she was no pushover like every one else I talked to and she came through like a champion.

As a result of the rain, the game was delayed nearly twenty minutes, which allowed me to see the first pitch, and that was nice, I hadn't seen the first pitch of a baseball game live this season, due to the fact that I typically spend too much time drinking Natty Boh's in front of Pickles. Bergie, struck out the first batter and I really wish Trembley would have let him go out there in the ninth for the chance to get his first complete game shutout, but he went with Big George, and we ended up winning 3-1. If your counting, which you probably are not, the O's are now 4-2 in games I have attended this year. Friday, could be the seventh O's game I attend this season, and their going up against some young phenom named Tommy Hanson, and I'm hoping that another young phenom takes him deep because it's quite possible that I will be wearing my homemade jersey again.


After the game, I headed north with Siobhan back to the hometown and ended up at Fridays. Kari was bartending, and as far as bartenders go she is definitely one of the best. Fridays was having some "beach party" and I didn't really get the whole idea, nor did it really work. To be honest the NBA Finals seemed to be a bigger draw, than the "beach party" but either way, put me in a bar, and relieve me of my duty of being a responsible adult, and a good time is sure to follow. Throw Siobhan in the mix, and, you basically have two trains going head-on traveling at a high rate of speed. No one can be quite sure when the two trains will collide, but a wreck is inevitable, its just a matter of time. Within moments of my arrival to Fridays, I ran into the Payne Train and it's at that point where things really started to get dicey. Next thing, I know I'm at Casey's, Payne and I are talking thoughts of hitting up Firehouse for an after party and Siobhan is feeding everyone shots. The Payne Train after party never quite happened, well it may have, I just didn't make it there, but there are rumors via Facebook of a Beer Olympics at his apartment on Sunday and I will most definitely not miss that one, because if you take the Payne Train, and take his apartment in Towson Woods, and feature a Beer Olympics, trouble is sure to follow. Supposedly, this is going to be the last hurrah at Payne and Dagro's apartment, and that is most definitely a shame, because the kids have had some good one's in the past and I'm sure with it being a competition, there will be plenty of formidable squads because as Big Juicy and Smedium well know, when it comes to playing beer games for money, the Payne Train is not one to mess around with. Supposedly, Smedium still owes him 100bucks or something over a game of ruit. Anyways, I will have to invite Curley, because the last time he ventured north of Baltimore City to the house of Payne, well let's just say even the doctor's were saying "Thanks for playing."

The Man Who Drinks Aqua Velva

Monday night I was minding my own business, doing sit-ups as I flipped back and forth between the Orioles game and The Princess Bride, when I received a text message. The text was from LSilv, referring to a specific individual she works with at the great Bo Brooks. As you all know, I spent some time there as well and Brandon, the individual she was referring too, is hands down one of the sketchiest people I have ever met in my life. Over the course of my young life I have had a countless number of jobs and as a result, met a countless number of people. Now, one thing that tends to happen when you have the opportunity to meet lots of people, is you happen to meet a lot of sketchballs and when you meet a sketchball, you most certainly do not forget them. The focus of this blog is going to be on some of these shady individuals but for now, I must return to the story.

Supposedly, Lindsay and Brandon, left work at the same time and Brandon walked her nearly all the way home. Now, the walk from Lindsay's house to Bo Brooks shouldn't take one very long, but with Brandon, I'm sure it took quite a while, cause the man lacks the ability to do things at a quick rate of speed. Those kinda things tend to happen, when you have to disappear every so often to shoot up some black tar, snort some coke, or perhaps smoke crack. I was never quite sure what drug was the man's drug of choice, but I have a feeling it was one of those three. To be honest, I shouldn't have said the man can't do anything at a quick rate of speed, because, his jaw, lips, and eyes are usually twitching at a rapid pace. Anyways, somewhere on their drug induced walk home, a homeless man approached the lovely duo, and within a matter of seconds, the bum was fleeing down Boston street, garbage bag, cardboard box and all, in a desperation attempt to get away from Brandon. He didn't even take the kid's money. Priceless. Needless to say, Brandon now has a few extra dollars to his pocket and LSilv had the best night of her life, what else can be said.

Now, onto the other sketchballs.

In the summer of 2007, I worked at Brawner Brothers construction, it was a great job, and if they didn't assign me to the most boring crew ever, I may quite possibly still be there. Nevertheless, there was a man there named Rick. Rick, was a heavyset fellow and a lifer in the construction business. He spent most of the days driving the trucks, because he was a worthless complainer who no foreman wanted on their crew. As for the reason he may have been worthless, well I am about to tell you. Rick, claimed that he had reached a point in his life, where normal alcohol no longer effected him like it once did and as a result he began to search for other means to reach intoxication and he stumbled across bottles of Aqua Velva aftershave. So, when the bell rang on Friday afternoon, many Brawner employees would head to the liquor store to pick up a 12 pack or bottle of Jack, but Rick would go to the grocery store and pick up a bottle of Aqua Velva. Supposedly, only a few sips of the stuff and you would reach a solid buzz. I saw him take a quick chug one day and it was just utterly gut wrenching to see someone chug aftershave, but to Rick it was just a way of life.

Than there's Jay Farley. Jay and I worked together for two years, as Lutherville Timonium Recreation Council Leaders and to be honest I always kinda felt bad for the kid. In reality, Jay wasn't really a sketchball, he just lacked basic social skills, and as a result came across to most people as rather shady. The only times we would work together would be in the fall, when football was in season. On certain Saturdays, we would have to set up the football field, help with the concessions and do various other things along the course of the day. The typical football Saturday was about a 14 hour work day, which is totally illegal to make a 16 year old do, but when it came time fill out our time sheets, we would just put down three 6 hour days and I realize the math doesn't work there but it's what the boss told us to do. He wasn't paying us anyways so it didn't matter. Anyways, back to Jay. Now, Jay was a big kid, probably about 6"3 and 250lbs, which is quite large for a high school boy and Jay's main hobby was reading books about goblins, demons, witches, and warlocks. That kinda stuff will pollute one's mind. To make matters worse, all Jay did is read and he didn't really have any friends. At all of these football games, there were cheerleaders. Now, we were 16 to 17 at the time, and these cheerleaders ranged from probably 11-14 and when a 6"3 250 pound man, sits down next to a 12 year old cheerleader and begins to talk about goblins and demons, she gets sketched out. And when a 12 year old girl gets sketched out, she tells her 12 year old friend, who tells her mother who in turns files a complaint. It got kinda ugly at one point, but nothing big ever evolved and I heard through the grapevine that Jay joined the Marines and good for him, I hope he is doing well, and I'd imagine the Marines got him to stop reading about goblins and demons.

The final two sketchballs I'm going to discuss are both former Bo Brooks employees as well. The first, is the lovely Jen Jones.

I only had the luxury of working with Jen Jones for a few months, she walked out on the Fourth of July during a shift, and to this day I believe she stills owes Bo Brooks a couple hundred bucks, but that girl definitely had some issues. There was a specific evening last summer, where I ventured out to JD's in Canton with a few employees, and we got to last call and Jen still wanted to keep drinking. I was with Creech and the two of us were not opposed to the idea of still drinking with a good looking young lady, so we invited her back to Towson. Somewhere, along the ride, Creech got the genius idea, that we should take Jen to my parents house, they were in Bethany Beach at the time, and convince her that it was our place. I had to go along with the idea, because who would really want to drink late night in a house with no cable, no furniture, and no air conditioning. Quite frankly, we may not have even had power. A few minutes later, Creech is pulling into my driveway and the three of us are walking into my house. Now, if you have ever been inside my parent's house, there should be no way imaginable that one would ever buy into the concept that the two of us lived there by ourselves, but Jen Jones did and that alone should speak volumes. Instantly, the girl just started slamming vodka and once she got drunk, her persona changed. She went from a sweet loving little girl to this enraged white trash hoochie mama. She kept talking about how she stole things, smoked crack, and beat up other bitches and Creech is just looking over at me scared shitless. Girls from Dundalk, you really gotta watch out for them. But, I gotta give it to her, she had one hell of an ass, an ass that would make Sir Mix A Lot proud because Baby Got Back.

Finally, I'm onto the sketchiest person I have ever come into contact with. I believe his name was Ben and I actually saw him while I was driving the other day. He was walking past the Kent and I screamed like a 10 year old girl, granted, I was in my truck and passing him at a high rate of speed, but it was still way too close for comfort. This man could straight up put chills through your body. I worked with him for only a matter of day's, before he was fired. He had one of those beards, that someone who can't really grow a beard has. I mean, it is a beard, but you can tell their rocking it because it's the first time in their life they've had enough facial hair to attempt to rock the beard, but it doesn't really work. Nevertheless, he kept telling me and other employees about African slogans and signs, how he believed everyone should keep a handgun in the glove box of their car, and just other weird things like that. I believe he was fired for telling customers that his tattoos resembled everyone he had killed in his life or something like that, I don't really know, but the man was a total creeper. Supposedly, Nate passed him on the streets once and hid behind his wife in an effort to avoid him, and I don't really blame the guy, if I fired this man, I would have no shame whatsoever in hiding behind a woman to avoid an encounter. Anyways, that's enough for sketchballs.

I walked into Razorback's last night to play trivia with Andy and Damon, and as soon as I walked in, I noticed the Big Unit on the tele. He had just won his 300th game and I mentioned to Andy and Damon that I don't know if we will ever see another 300 game winner unless of course Jamie Moyer pitches until he is 60, which is quite possible, and Damon started laughing because supposedly he had just said the same thing to Stills before I walked into the bar. What can I say? Great minds think alike. Speaking of Randy Johnson, the man had quite the mullet at times, and anyone who can rock a mullet, and rock a mullet well, is good in my book. Plus, he scared the living shit out of John Kruk in the 1993 All-Star Game and may quite possibly be the best dove hunter in all of baseball. Speaking of the 1993 All-Star Game, I'm still pissed at Cito Gaston for not brining in Mike Mussina to close out the ninth.

The Jacoby's were out last night and I'm big fans of both. They kept going on about a possible fishing trip with Andy, Damon, the two of them, and myself and that would be one for the ages. Alex is upstairs singing like a girl, its kinda funny, I don't know if he knows I can hear him. I'm gonna let this one ride for a moment.

Batman, Tin Cup, And "Crazy Game of Poker" on Repeat

I was hanging out at a friends apartment last week and it seems that a girl I know has resorted to online dating. If you were to go back and check the history of my blog, I mentioned my thoughts on online dating in a previous entry, if you feel like going back and doing some research, I probably published it in January and the title probably had something to do with Julia. Now, there was one thing that surprised me in her online pursuits, she managed to catch the attention of Batman. I've never had the opportunity to meet Batman, but from what I've seen the man does pretty well for himself and I was quite perplexed when I found out he had resorted to online Batman. I mean the caped wonder, drives a bad ass car, can kick some serious ass, and seems to do pretty well for himself in terms of the ladies. He's caught the attention of Katie Holmes, Uma Thurman, Nicole Kidman, and a long list of various other hotties. My biggest concern about the guy has always been his best friends are an old guy and a dude in tights named Robin, but the other factors in his life have helped me ignore those downfalls. However, now that I know Batman is pursuing girls via online, instead of impressing them by kicking some serious arse and just being all that is manly, I may be starting to wonder. In fact, the girl who he pursued, didn't even respond to the guy. So not only is Batman, pursuing girls in a desperation attempt, he is being shot down doing it. But with this in mind, I gotta give it to the girl, if she can turn down Batman, she's got some potential.

I was reading online somewhere, most likely a website dedicated to the wide world of sports, that Tiger Woods and Jack Nicklaus will be squaring off in a skins match. This skins match obviously has all sorts of PR appeal to it, as it pits a dream match-up. Granted, Nicklaus probably has more wrinkles in his face now than John Daly has wrinkles in his personal lifestyle, but either way, it's quite easy to sell people on the idea of arguably the two greatest golfers of all time going head-to-head. However, if it were up to me, I'd much rather see Tiger go up against another elite golfer. I'd like to see a skins match between Tiger and Roy McAvoy. McAvoy, the golfer who shot the greatest 12 in U.S. Open history, and quite possibly the greatest prop gambler the game of golf has ever seen, against Tiger Tiger Woods yall. I could almost guarantee you the match would become an ESPN Instant Classic. My money would be on Tin Cup though, at least for the front 9, until he loses control and ends up shooting the back nine with a Louisville Slugger, shovel, and sand rake. As for J, I'm pretty sure he'll back Tin Cup the whole way.

This past weekend I traveled to Frederick, while there, I got the fine opportunity to use firearms and I must say if you ever have the opportunity to fire a 12 gauge shotgun into a full can of beer at close range, DO IT! You won't be disappointed with the results.

During the course of my drive to Frederick, I was listening to the radio and the song "Crazy Game of Poker" came on by O.A.R. and it reminded me of a party I once went to back in high school. The party was located at this girls house in Towson, this girl used to date Shouldice, and quite frankly, I really wish Shouldice never dated the girl. If someone were to ask me, "What is one thing you have disliked about Shouldice in the whole time you have known him?" I would probably answer, "Well, I've known Shouldice for a while, he is one of my best friends, I even lived with the guy at a point where he started to go crazy and would have full conversations in his sleep, and there is only one thing I've ever disliked about him, and that is he dated Vomit for a while." Now, Vomit isn't really the girl's name, her real name is Alex, but Stilling titled her as Vomit while they were dating, and I like that name better, so that is the name I'm going with. Anyways, back to the party. I can't remember what I was drinking at the party, but bearing that I was with Shouldice, a 30 pack of Beast Light or Schaffers Light is a damn good bet. Chances are we got it from the Liquor Pump or the China Lady as well. At some point during the course of the party, drama evolved. The drama had something to do with a private school girl who liked to draw attention to herself by cutting herself and sleeping with boys at parties and than accusing those high school boys of raping her. Her "madly in love" boyfriend, actually bought that lie, to it was kinda amusing, he cried a lot, when she was upstairs with another guy doing her thing. Than several days later, she would say that guy raped her, and he'd go around saying what an asshole that guy was and how bad he felt for her, it was really pathetic, but either way I'm getting away from the story and the drama. Now, I have always been someone to try and avoid drama, it just isn't all it is cracked up to be. So at this point, Shouldice couldn't have agreed with me more, the two of us decided to keep drinking beer and to try and find some good music. The house was full of lots of crappy music, they didn't even have a country cd in the house. Eventually, we found a mixed CD, and keeping up with the trend of things, basically every song on that CD was crappy. But, there was one good song. "Crazy Game of Poker" The two of us were stoked. At this point, with the boyfriend crying on the steps, and everyone else talking to the drunk slut who cuts herself, we decided to play this song over and over again. Now, if you have ever played one song over and over again, for several hours, in a house full of people, it tends to piss people off. Every so often people would trickle downstairs from the drama room and yell at us, but we just sat there, smiling, drinking beer, protecting the radio with a passion, and not once changing the music. Even the crying boy on the stairwell started to scream at us, but to no avail. It was an awesome night, eventually, though the night came to an end. But to this day, whenever Shouldice returns for a brief period of time from sailing the seven seas, that night is always discussed.