My hydration plan

Over Christmas break, I want to get super hydrated. I used to be the king of hydration, lugging a gallon jug of water all over Hippie University's campus.

Now, it is nothing but Coke Zero and Cafe Americanos.

But, alas, the @$$holes at Gatorade don't think I'm an athlete.

225 lbs?

I'll get Big Baby on their case. Or Ogden.

Christmas Shopping

Don't worry, Zip. I gotcha something this year.

She grew up tall, and she grew up right, with them Indiana boys on them Indiana nights.

A website. A memory.

http://www.hellboobs.com/

This is even better than when BJ Russell, in Mr. Thomas' Algebra class, turned around and showed me "L00SE" on his calculator and asked, "Is this what your mom is?"

And, I, not understanding the ways of the world yet, replied in the affirmative.

Horse collars, punters, and returners! Oh my!

I miss football so freakin' much!

Tampa Bay has gotten its first kick return for a touchdown - ever. Devin Hester reportedly sent Michael Spurlock this note:

"Dear Spurlocker,

I wish I could have had the Bears' first. OH well. I"ll just settle for having their most.

And I slept with your wife.

Love,
Anytime"

Confidence, and the substance to back it up, is what makes Hester better than Sauerbrun, who, keeps falling down when trying to tackle pure speed.


Oh, and the horse-collar tackle rocks! I wish I had grip strength like Williams.

[insert masturbation joke ]

-unfinished terrific

Ugliness.

Daniel Day Lewis - admire his work, not his clothes. [Thanks eaumaison].

Big Baby (of the Celtics) really looks like a huge baby. I wish I could get paid 425K in one year and look like a retard. For the record, I'm only getting paid 16K while looking like a retard.

Plus, here's the issue: when I say Big Baby, I need my audience to immediately conjure up the image of this Big Baby who destroyed the Broncos in their most recent match up, getting 2.5 sacks and an interception returned for a touchdown (with the meanest stiff-arm I've ever seen). He did more in that game than Marques Harris and Andrew Walter have done their whole careers combined!

And he weighs more than them combined as well!

Is this a coincidence?

Get me a pizza, get me greatness!

-fat tangerine

Social Blunder? You wish.

So I just did a Holiday Party White Elephant gift exchange. I tried to pick a gift that was middle of the road, you know, not too big, not too small, not brightly wrapped ...etc. The goal was to select the gift and not have it stolen from me. Well, sure enough, two rounds go and my gift gets stolen.

My options were to go to the pile for a new one, or, good sirs and dames, steal.

Tooth for tooth.

Eye for eye.

I noticed a couple had brought their baby, and they had selected a big bright red gift a few rounds ago.

The baby was happily playing with that gift, enamored with the red gift paper.

Shiny.

Beautiful.

Eternal.

Well, not eternal.

I stood up, adjusted my waist band like a man, and declared, "I'm stealing from the kid."

Marched right over and took the gift.

His face was classic: shock, realization, lower lip out, eyes squint, and then -

The fireworks.

The crowd made a huge noise as the kid was about to cry, and the noise bumped him up to the 3rd tier of cry-baby.

I turned around and sat down with my gift.

I will be lambasted forever. However, we applaud Ray Croc and Bo Jackson for quotes such as

"If my competitor was drowning, I'd reach in, pull him up to the surface, and stick a hose in his mouth, and then push him under again."

and

"If you are my enemy and you have a flat tire on the side of the road, I will stop splash cold water on you, throw the bucket at you, and then speed off."

And most recently, yours truly had to add:

"If you think a baby will give you immunity from the steal-phase of a White Elephant, think the f*** again, friend."

-ft

They are Crazy.

I'm taking a class with the Applied Mathematics Department.

They have a sweet student lounge, and on the wall of said lounge, the phrase "Applied Mathematics Department." However, some clever students and an anagram engine gave me a few chuckles over my few past visitations, as I have found the following on the wall:

"Email Pimped Attachment"

"The Clap is a damp time"

And in other news: condoms make you AIDS proof.

I hope.

Bliss

I had a great thanksgiving.

I was not on the internet once (I amassed 47 emails). This is a record (4 days) for me being internetless since high school.

I did not make or take a single phone call. (Amassed 15 missed calls and 9 messages).

I wore my hoodie and pajama bottoms for at least 90% of the time.

Wednesday night I slept 14 hours. Ate, socialized. Slept 3 more. Watched "How I met Your Mother" season 2 episodes, went to bed at 1AM, slept until noon.

I love you, Tennessee.

Oh, you'll beat it, but can you smack it?

"Maybe we'll see them down the road and if that's the case, we'll beat that a-- again."

Ladies and Gentlemen: The Giants all time sack leader has spoken.

Wiki Fast

I think before Dwight Freeny even suited up on Sunday this was posted.

Lisfranc may be renamed the Law-Freeny fracture.

In fact, in my house, in my blog, it will be.

-Bone Swarr to the Frenchies

Quote of the year (if you're in Miami)

CHARLOTTE, N.C. (AP) -- Minutes after watching the Miami Heat miss shot after shot in another uninspiring performance that ended in a 91-76 loss to the Charlotte Bobcats, coach Pat Riley was asked what he could do to generate some offense.

"Me? Play. I guarantee you I should suit up. I'd play better than some of them right now," Riley said Tuesday night. "I guarantee it. I swear to God. With an old hip and 62 years old and I can't see, I'll play better than some of my guys tonight. Come on, they were pretty bad."

Source.

And Simeon Rice is back with the colts. Back with Dungy. Lisfranc sounds like it hurts, and that is what stopped Freeny's swimming.

Cate Blanchett is hotter as a man. Hit the Harmonica.

Parody.


Tribute.

There Will Be Me in the Theater

There Will Be Blood - Trailer

Posted Sep 08, 2007

A story about family, greed, religion, and oil, centered around a turn-of-the-century Texas prospector in the early days of the business.

He did it again. So haunting. I gotta change my pants.

I just rented out the entire theater....

Listen: if you have even seen me within the last decade you know that one of my favorite directors in film is Paul Thomas Anderson. Also, if you were any where near me after the Academy Awards when Adrian Brody won for the pianist, you have noticed my hand all stitched up from punching BOmura's 80 inch big screen tv because Brody winning the prize for "learning how to play piano - sort of" meant that a man who portrayed Bill The Butcher, who scared the snot out of me in a 10 second trailer of GOFNY doing nothing but raising his arms as if to say "You want a piece of this?" - did not.

Well, Paul Thomas Anderson (PTA) and Daniel Day-Lewis (DDL) are making a movie called "There Will Be Blood." Which is exactly what's going to happen if DDL is snubbed again. Guaranteed, he will be NOMINATED for Best Actor -Academy Award- for this role. Whether those fat toads in the voting booth will give him the nod or decide to watch "The Departed" again is out of my control.

I saw the poster for "There Will be Blood" when I went to see Wes Anderson's "Bengal Lancer" film. Not bad. Natalie Portman sort of ruined it for me, but less so than what she did to "Garden State." But what Natalie Portman ruined, "Sweet Lime" girl more than recovered. Geemony.

I want an internet!

She is sweet.

But is her blog fantastic? Terrific?

A barrel of monkeys?

I think ______ .


a) So.
b) Not.
c) Therefore I am.
d) Pagina.

Square State Slump

So, here it is: The Tough Times. Within a period of a week or so:

1) Rockies Swept Away in the Series
2) Broncos get jacked by old man Favre in OT
2.5)Broncos get jacked by the Lions - specifically a 340 lb Lion that has a log for a stiff arm.
3) The Ultimate Frisbee team loses nationals.
4) The emperor passed on his clothes.

Is it hypocrisy if you declare you have been converted?

Please see the comment below on the Posting "Various Shizz."

I think I want to Buy One Get One in terms of an XO giving laptop.

Also, to the lady who was pissed because I just took her load of laundry out when it had been sitting in the drier for an hour: kiss my naughty spot. I don't give a frick if your bras are black on the outside and hot pink on the inside of the cup, or padded so much it is bulletproof.

I remember the first time I had to unload a drier before its rightful owner had come back. It was in the basement of Kitt West, and I reached in their and thought it was funny that someone put a hanger into the drier, and then shook off my abstinence-only education and realized it was an underwire. Then, true to form, as it was tonight, as it always is, she returned just as I was putting the load onto the top of the drier.

"What are you doing?"
"I postulated that only fat girls wore D's - and the proof is in the pudding - which you must've eaten before coming down here."

Yep - quite the charmer for a misogynist.

Various shizz

This teen was too hocked up on Grand Theft Auto to realize what he was doing.

This prisoner is my new hero. He just never quits. Crashing a helicopter? Someone get me a working version of Grand Theft Auto, pronto!

And I think America just had this conversation:

USA: Hello, Third World Country, how can we assist you?
TWC: Please, some water.
USA: 100 dollar laptops? Absolutely. This will be the greatest humanitarian effort ever.
TWC: Please, a little food. Our children are dying.
USA: Dying to get on the web? I hear that. Excuse, I need to text someone.
TWC: We are in the middle of famine and war and inhumane working conditions. Genocide.
USA: You won't have to decide: the laptops will all be the same.
TWC: Please, save us from death. We need latrines.
USA: Hup, my second blue-tooth is jingling. Excuse me a tick. Okay, I'm back.
TWC: Our teeth are blue, too.
USA: They are the greatest aren't they? Well, 100 dollars a pop. And we'll only sell it to you in orders of 100,000, just so we can make some money. Deal?
TWC: If I say yes will give me the Snickers bar stuck in your beard?
USA: A yes it is! Only 200 dollars a pop. Great gravy!
TWC: What? You doubled the price on something I don't need?
USA: You've read Animal Farm, haven't you?
TWC: Yes. F*ck you, Pig!

From NY TIMES ( I store it here because I'm afraid it will go somewhere else)

“Older people complain more about their sleep; they just do,” said Dr. Michael Vitiello, a sleep researcher who is a professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at the University of Washington. And for years, sleep scientists thought they knew what was going on: sleep starts to deteriorate in late middle age and steadily erodes from then on. It seemed so obvious that few thought to question the prevailing wisdom.Now, though, new research is leading many to change their minds. To researchers’ great surprise, it turns out that sleep does not change much from age 60 on. And poor sleep, it turns out, is not because of aging itself, but mostly because of illnesses or the medications used to treat them. “The more disorders older adults have, the worse they sleep,” said Sonia Ancoli-Israel, a professor of psychiatry and a sleep researcher at the University of California, San Diego. “If you look at older adults who are very healthy, they rarely have sleep problems.” And new studies are indicating that poor sleep may circle back to cause poor health. At least when it comes to pain, a common cause of disrupted sleep, a restless night can make pain worse the next day. Then with worse pain, sleep may become even more difficult — a vicious cycle common in people with conditions that tend to afflict the elderly, like back pain and arthritis.The new view of sleep emerged from two parallel lines of research. The first asked what happened to sleep patterns when healthy people grew old. The second sought to uncover the relationship between sleep and pain.To find out what happens with aging, some investigators, including Dr. Vitiello, studied older people who reported no sleep problems. They actually make up a large group — nearly half of people over 65. Were these people somehow spared age-related changes in sleep?They were not. Their sleep turned out to be different from sleep in young people: it was lighter, more often disrupted by brief awakenings, and shorter by a half hour to an hour. Dr. Vitiello reasoned that the age-related changes in sleep patterns might not be an issue in themselves. Something else was making people complain about their sleep.Dr. Vitiello and his colleagues also asked what normally happened to sleep over the life span. It had long been known that sleep changes, but no one had systematically studied when those changes occurred or how pronounced they were in healthy people.With analysis of 65 sleep studies, which included 3,577 healthy subjects ages 5 to 102, the investigators had their next surprise. Most of the changes in sleep patterns occurred when people were between the ages of 20 and 60. Compared with teenagers and young adults, healthy middle-aged and older people slept a half hour to an hour less each night, they woke up a bit more often during the night, and their sleep was lighter. But after age 60, there was little change in sleep, at least in people who were healthy.And even though sleep changed during adulthood, many of the changes were subtle. Middle-aged and older people, for example, did not have more difficulty falling asleep. The only change in sleep latency, as it is called, emerged when the investigators compared latency at the two extremes, in 20- and 80-year-olds. The 80-year-olds took an average of 10 more minutes to fall asleep.Contrary to their expectations, the investigators found no increase in daytime drowsiness in healthy older people. Nor did aging affect the time it took for people to start dreaming after they fell asleep.Instead, the biggest change was the number of times people woke after having fallen asleep.Healthy young adults sleep 95 percent of the night, said Dr. Donald Bliwise, a sleep researcher at Emory University. “They fall asleep,” he said, “and don’t wake up until the alarm goes off.” By age 60, healthy people are asleep 85 percent of the night. Their sleep is disrupted by brief wakeful moments typically lasting about 3 to 10 seconds. “There is some aspect of sleep that isn’t going to be as good as when you were 20,” Dr. Bliwise said. But he added, “When that crosses the threshold and becomes a significant complaint is difficult to say.”The real sleep problems, he and others say, arise when people have any of a number of conditions that make them wake up in the night, like sleep apnea, chronic pain, restless leg syndrome or urinary problems. That, of course, describes many older people. “The sheer number of challenges to maintaining solid sleep in old age is just huge,” Dr. Bliwise said. “You come out with the question, Well, what is normal? What should I expect?”The new frontier of what to expect, and what to do about it, involves studies of the relationship of sleep to pain. It’s no surprise that pain can disrupt sleep. But what is new is that a lack of sleep can apparently increase the sensation of pain. Michael T. Smith, the research and training director of the behavioral sleep medicine program at Johns Hopkins School of Medicine, reached that conclusion with a study of healthy young people. One group slept normally for eight hours in the hospital. Another was awakened every hour by a nurse and kept up for 20 minutes. Their sleep pattern was meant to mimic the fragmented sleep of elderly people. A third group was allowed four hours of solid sleep. Comparing the second and third groups allowed Dr. Smith to tease apart the causes of the problems that arise from fragmented sleep: were they because of the short total sleep time, or because of the disrupted nature of the sleep?Fragmented sleep, he found, led to severe impairments the next day in pain pathways. The subjects felt pain more easily, were less able to inhibit pain, and even developed spontaneous pain, like mild backaches and headaches. Timothy Roehrs, director of research at the sleep disorders research center at Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit, also found that healthy young people became exquisitely sensitive to pain after a night of fragmented sleep.And getting more sleep, Dr. Roehrs found, had the opposite effect. His subjects were young healthy people who said they were chronically sleepy, just not getting enough time to sleep at night. Dr. Roehrs had them stay in bed 10 hours a night. The extra sleep, he said, reduced their sensitivity to pain to the same degree as a tablet of codeine. Now, Dr. Smith says, he and others have markedly changed their attitude about sleep problems and aging.Of course, he said, sleep is different in 20-year-olds and 70-year-olds. But he added, “It’s not normal to get a clinical sleep disorder when you get old.”

Computing power well used

Wow. Hal, take it easy on the Lord... so what if there's chicken stuck in His Beard?

Funny? Ironic?

So for all you fans of athletes who can't keep their genitals out of other people's mouths: they've released one back into the wild.

Did you catch that the lawyer's name was "B.J."?

You can't invent this stuff.

Funny? Ironic?

So for all you fans of athletes who can't keep their genitals out of other people's mouths: they've released one back into the wild.

Did you catch that the lawyer's name was "B.J.".

You can't invent this stuff.

Let Sopcast sop up your non-tv existence

Okay, 1141.99

Did not make the buy it now price. That's okay. I just feel relieved. This is a dangerous game of chicken. A thousand dollars is no chicken feed.

However, if a homerun is hit into section 160 on 10/27 (GAME 3), I'll be beside myself.

Yep.

I was just outbid. Sweet.

Now, the goal is for s***f to come back and have to pay more than the "buy it now" price of 1349.99.

That's like me romancing his wife, while yelling, "Get in your corner, Bits, get in your corner."

That's a movie reference.

To prove my point,

I just bid a 1000.00 dollars.


I guarantee you I will not get stuck with these two tickets. And I think whoever "s***f" is is dumping his pants.

Although, I just looked up his history, and it seems he is a scalper extraordinarie.

What a show!

And it goes to a scalper at TotallyTickets.com.

It is kind of exciting to watch them count down 2 minutes out and hit refresh and see the price keep jumping up.

What a show!

And it goes to a scalper at TotallyTickets.com.

It is kind of exciting to watch them count down 2 minutes out and hit refresh and see the price keep jumping up.

Get ready for the fireworks...

Go to Ebay within the next hour, and watch some fierce snipping on Rockies tickets. I feel like bidding a 1000 dollars on some, because I know I will not get stuck with them. I just won't. This is the same thing I do when I go to art auctions...I bid amounts of money just to push up the price early on, because it is exihilirating to be able to predict human nature like that.

So, I am going to go place a 1000.oo dollar bid right now on 2 tix, and I guarantee you I will not get stuck with them.

-ft

Hoops and Yoyo

Bob Holt and Mike Adair should be shot.

Break my Purple Heart

News!

Get your news, right here!


20000 tickets available.
500 sold

leaves

19500 tickets

and only 8.5 million hits occurred this morning to crash the servers.

Crude estimate of me getting a ticket tomorrow?

A manhole backpack

It is brilliant. Toss your bag on the street and the criminal will be like a dog looking for a frisbee that was never thrown.

Also, afterwards, be sure to the tell the police you were robbed by two men, one of which with a handkerchief not over his mouth so you could learn engrish bettel.

Just here to help.

Stupid Americans

3rd world countries need FOOD!

Not computers!

They are cool. And education is good. But seriously.

I didn't work three years in Hell's Kitchen

to have someone come and do this to me.

For those too lazy or unimaginative or lacking the fortitude and manual dexterity to fold their slice of pizza, we have the pizzacono.

Its convenient size allows those with their stomachs stapled to still enjoy big pizza taste.

That's a wrap, boys! The obesity epidemic is solved.

Into the Wild

For the man who travels light: It's like Through Painted Deserts, penned by Penn; lullabied by Vedder.

Rocktober

Oh man. Let the Purple Reign come down.

Okay, so I've sometimes been a fair weather fan of the Rocks. I may have called them "The Suckies" a time or two, and gone on a rant about how other teams have cool mascots that are animate objects (yes, Indians still exist) or at least tangible, small objects (Red Socks, Black Socks, One Fish, Two Fish) and the Rockies just weren't something you could own or draw are cartoon of interacting with its environment or other mascots ( - wow - a Rattler in the Rockies? I hope a boulder falls on it! Yeah, that's a good toon of the situation).

The Rocks are hot. They are sweeping everybody. Yes, they got there on a fluke call and Milton Bradley has to go back and make board games for everyone during the WS.

I don't care.

The Rocks are going to the WS, and if I have anything to do with it, so am I.

I purchased my airline tickets on Friday of last week in anticipation of the Rocks getting there. I want to be able to say that I was at the FIRST WORLD SERIES GAME in Denver EVER!

-- If only to kill Dinger or Zinger or whatever the Triceratops name is and replace it with "Range", a slower moving mascot, but albeit more representative mascot of the team.

I am only one very lucky lottery away from scoring tix on Oct. 22nd, Noon EST.

My new pick up line

ft: Hey, baby. Are you a piece of art?
Woman: I, uh-
ft: [ <3 *kiss* ]

fin

Inspired by her.

If only OJ had Onstar

This is pretty smart - but will Big Brother turn it against us? Telling us where we can go and who we can see when they aren't fit to wipe the spit off my boot?

And in other news, I have an inguinal hernia. It was caused by training for the 1/2 marathon because my unsupported balls are so freakin' big.

Just ask the nurse practitioner that diagnosed me.

The haunting.

Taking the plunge

I've often said I wanted a device that could do everything.

Here is : The Ocean.

I'm nervous. I'm nervous and it is okay.

Hidden Present

What the f___ is going on in Iraq?


I know, I know. I'm a little late in asking that question.

If I work for Blackwater, can I still get into Heaven? If so, it sounds like it would be the most fun on earth - a real life video game.

Hidden History

I wish my dad had rocket scientists working for him in the '50s.

First 3 games, First 3 sacks.

"Okoye had a pair of sacks and forced a fumble in the Texans’ 34-21 win over the Panthers."

From here.


The kid is going to be a star!

A few news clips (not too much sports, Rachel).

My balls liked this story.


And I only became aware of this because the BGSA sent an email to everyone in the school for pre-ordering "Jena 6" shirts. I am going to wear a "Jena 6 3 strikes and you are out - why was Bell allowed to ring for a fourth time?" shirt to their meeting. I'm sure I'll be labeled a racist, just as Michael Richards. But the truth is, I agree that the whole situation was handled poorly and as result things have gotten out of hand and there may be some racism in Louisiana playing a part, but no one should be let "off the hook" for ganging up 5 to 1 and kicking someone unconscious.

And the Vikings continue to suck.

I'm off to the Square State tomorrow.

Big, spoiled men ...

...get their due:

"Local youths left a toilet seat with a harassing message on his doorstep. Local news reported that the police did not disclose what the message on the garbage can said [19] Other sources claim that "Nice Job Tank" was written on the seat. The seat had been duct-taped to a garbage can filled with excrement."

From wikipedia.

Also, solicited spam, but ignored after an on-slaught by an email user, is called Bacn.

What is this? Eliminate "o" day? Next I'm going to read a post that says:

"Rgasm: lexigraphical scping rcks."

Grand Junktown in the news again -

this time for harboring criminals on the lamb.

Because the world is not fair.

Why can't it be like this for Caffo?

Rules are stupid.

Like these. Man, if they are green, release them everywhere. I wonder if a flying buzzing about war thought this one up.

Also, where's the 5 ways to avoid the PhD 1st year 40?

And if you're friends are sporting more ice than usual and swear that they hate the Texans (which have BVP and Amobi), turn them in.

A Bronco Bonus:

In December of 2005, I posted this. Yes, most of it is drivel, but pay attention to where I ask the Chicago Bear's A. Brown and the Bucs' Simeon Rice to have a baby and donate it to the Broncos.

A little background: the season the bucs went to the superbowl, Simeon Rice was unstoppable. I told everyone how excited I was to watch a Monday Night Football game of him while home on vacation that I would run around my house each time he got a sack, hopping over 4 fences per loop and sprinting.

I ran around my house 2.5 times that night.

Anyway, Simeon did not donate his child to the Broncos - he gave his only begotten himself.


Hooray!

A Breast Hit Man

Sign me up.

Oh wait...what are the duties? Making the corporatocracy rich and rigging ad campaigns and putting babies' lives in danger...? Hmm. I hear what you are saying, but how close to "hitting a breast" would I get? No where near? Even on Cap Hill? Okay, okay. Thanks. I don't think I want the position, but keep my CV on file.

I was solicited today to join Facebook. And I kicked her Face(book) in.

I have mentioned this in an earlier post. I guess I have to be balding and crotchety in an adorable "freelance writer" sort of way to get noticed.

Back to the Gibbs Sampler.

Get Marky-Mark on the phone.

We will call it, "The Mexican Job."

We'll leave out the mini-coopers though ... we'll borrow lame-@$$ Ford's kick-@$$ Chrysler 300 from the lame-@$$ "Firewall."

That's the spirit. The spirit of the old.

I didn't play in high school or college - so maybe I can play four years after I retire.

Can anyone contain McCrary?

Play the video.

Also, Age Of Love - recently saw the finale. Mission accomplished - they're extinct.

Some odds. Some ends.

Kanye gives props to Timberlake. I'm not so interested in that, but more between the bet between 50 cent and Kanye concerning their careers.


I personally used Vick's jersey to piss off my dad - by wrapping my dead mother in it.


Matt Murphy got to go to Australia, acquired overnight fame, and now will be rich - for being a Met's fan in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And, just what is a slugging percentage? - An average.

And speaking of baseball, the O's suck by 27.

That's fine - means season tickets will be muy cheapo next season.

It's simple - I love justice.

There aren't enough trains in the world.

Failure - but tuning

Listen: I succumbed and ate out today. But I went three days straight without paying any organization to give/cook me food, and for me is a great start.

And it disgusted me. $8.90...! That's nearly a fourth of my allowance on one meal!

Meanwhile, sportsteams spend 30 dollars on pills to prevent fat bricks of men from overheating ... I'm told 30 dollars could feed a child for a month! It's as if these men are eating a child a day, and being praised for it!

I borrowed from the library "Ultra Marathon Man," and it is about this man, who ran 50 marathons in 50 days in 50 different states.

I'm back on track. I'm experimenting so that when schools starts I'll be a 35 dollar a week champion.

Long live the Longhorns.

Farewell to Chipotle

I increased the bandwidth in anticipation of the traffic for this post.

Yes, the man who ate at Chipotle at least 4 times a week, the man who ate there so frequently he often got his meals comped or police-discounted (1/2 off total bill), the man who when eating at a Chipotle up the street from the other one in the Inner Harbor was called a "traitor" by the Inner Harbor Chipotle manager when she returned a borrowed cheese grater, the man who advocated quesadillas as the cure for burrito-boredom (only if the store is not busy - they take longer), the man who always respected the sneezeguards, the man who tried out his horrible spanish for a spell for ordering his burritos - is saying goodbye to Chipotle.

Wall Street Journal: Is this because Li'l Rove is resigning?

fantasticterrific: No. But it is related.

WSJ: Explain.

ft: The past year in Charm City I only used one card and thereby was able to quantify the amount of money I spent at Chipotle. It is an underestimate due to the kind discounts I received along the way. Between 08/15/2006 and 06/27/2007, I spent more than $705.61 dollars there. And the cost was not only money - it took time, at least 2 hours per trip due to my refilling habits and the fact I do not own a car. Also, my waist [circumference] line grew by 8 inches.

WSJ: Holy s#(t.

ft: I know.

WSJ: Did eating at Chipotle remind you of the Square State? Was it a comfort food?

ft: It was - in the beginning. As time wore on it had more of the tell tale signs of addiction. I once broke into a Chipotle for a bag of chips.

WSJ: Do you want me to print that?

ft: I'm coming clean, baby. Print it all. This summer I did some reading - books with such titles as Blue Like Jazz, Through Painted Deserts, Revolution In World Missions, and Confessions of An Economic Hitman. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I consume way too much. I am so fat and so rich and all I have is this hunger in my belly to have more. Going out to eat is a status symbol. It is this feeling of power, going in to a place and having food made for you like you are a big shot. Even if it is fast food.

WSJ: What's next?

ft: I just want to gain awareness of my own habits. I want to stop consuming so much and thereby stop fueling the corporatocracy that Karl Rove and his friends have engineered. So, I'm living on 5 dollars a day.

WSJ: [sets 5 dollar cup of SBUX down cautiously] What?

ft: Just food. I am still going to pay rent and internet and cell phone bills and see movies and buy toiletries - but food...all I get is 5 dollars a day, including groceries.

WSJ: You'd be at the poverty level!

ft: In a sense, but not really. I still have shelter and clothes and a shower and an address and credit cards if emergencies pop up. But, every Saturday I will withdraw seven 5 dollar bills and go grocery shopping on Sunday. Whatever I do not spend on groceries will be "snack cash".

WSJ: A soda is going to become a real treat.

ft: That's point. To start realizing what I've been taking for granted for so long, and appproach, not attain, solidarity with the world's impoverished people.

WSJ: Are you a hippie?

ft: I should smack you in your mouth. I'm no hippie. I'm an American.

WSJ: Do you like Jimmy Joe Roche?

ft: We've collaborated a few times. He's a little too much into shock value for my taste, and I gave that up years ago.

WSJ: What about 39 West Lex?

ft: Listen, I never said that Iraq = al Qaeda = 9/11. I may go live in a swanky place. So be it.

WSJ: Is the journey for living on less just preparation for moving into a place that is beyond your lifestyle... are you testing to see if you can live on beans and rice so that you can dump hundreds of millions of cents and the blood of America's sons and daugthers into a higher rent payment on a Southwest Credit Card so that you get free tickets as well?

ft: We really are getting off track here.

WSJ: I will Black Monday your @$$ - answer the question.

ft: It could be spun that way.

WSJ: [rips off mask, to reveal Karl Rove was the interviewer all along] I suppose it could be, couldn't it.


*fin*

My life is going to be better.

Things are improving:

1) I got a paypass so that I can get these a lot more easily. It is really convenient.

2) I have ordered a swissgear backpack so I can be a one bag man when going to school and Iran. No more two one-strap bags, one for books, one for computer, both for looks.

3) I have purchased three laundry baskets/hampers. If I sort as I peel them off, then I won't have to frantically sort out clothes from a huge stinking pile later.

4) This place is now taking applications, so I can move 2 blocks over and be NOT assaulted when I exit my building. I will be the very first person to live in that apartment, which means I can be assured no one has had sex on the carpet (that is, before I move in).

5) I have every episode of How I Met Your Mother on my laptop. They are so light and delightful, but not vapid. I've enjoyed the 15 or so I've seen.

We are all New Yorkers.

"A fan wearing a Mets jersey wound up with the historic ball. Matt Murphy of New York emerged from the stands with the souvenir and a bloodied face, and was whisked to a secure room."

All this because a large man hit a large ball for a home-run 756 times.

Barry. Lamar. Bonds.

From this source.

My new hero, Ryan Hall.

Because of his Half Marathon time, a time I erroneously have stated in the past "would never happen."

Champion.

those crazy germans

How does he do it?

Love Me If You Can Lyrics

Cardinal Sin - Cursing

I can't blame him - I know I would swear like a marine if I were ever to go to battle.

I am Fantastic f***ing Terrific.

Awards are worth nothing.

I've been on a kick of looking up childhood football heroes and Superbowls, and am finding out a lot via wikipedia. A sample:

Pound that rock. John Gruden taunted a celebratory crowd after the Bucs' Superbowl victory against the Panty Raiders with "Pound! That! Rock!" I found it humorous that no one else joined in with him, and there was a collective "huh?" in the crowd. Well, looks like the Jags thought having a catchy phrase would get them a superbowl victory - instead, it nearly cost the punter his life.

Greg Lloyd. All I remember is that he was super strong. He was fined for shoving Brett Favre 12 feet (unnecessary roughness or late hit accusation). I just remember the commentators saying that it looked like a legitimate hit, and it would be ludicrous if he was fined for just being strong. He was fined for that - but should have been fined for shoving a gun in his son's mouth because of "poor grades."

And this little ditty about Eugene the Machine:
Bronco's 2nd Second Super Bowl Victory and the Morality of Man

Now, to Eugene's credit, the 40 dollars did not include the tip, which was going to be the friendship bracelet that his 8 year-old daughter gave him on his birthday.

Bart Starr - stop spinning!

Updates of Fatness - III

July 16th
weight: 275.0 lbs
waist: 47.5 in
l. arm: 16.0 in
l. calf: 17.75 in

July 23rd
weight: 279.5 lbs
waist: 47.5 in
l. arm: 16.0 in
l. calf: 17.75 in


Shoot. So much for my month of weight loss. I might re-instate my plan to touch 300...just like my pal Amobi Okoye.

Heart(s) of a Champion

Just got back from Denver.

Had two friends wuss out on seeing me. They have no heart.

However, in the game of Hearts, my first time playing, I found myself with 88 points. If I was forced to take the queen of spades, I'd be a goner.

However, I played it cool. I started accumulating hearts, telling everyone how I wanted to go home. With four cards in my hand, I started the play by laying a card down on the table. I had three left in my hand.

Ms. Fiancee laid a card less than mine, in suit (not a spade).

Then Mr. Fiancee looked at Ms. Fiancee, and said, "Hon, have you collected any hearts in this round?"

She stopped thinking about her can in a wedding dress for one second and answered, "Yes, sweetums."

Then that fat codger laid down the Unlucky Lady.

Then the fourth person laid down a card less than mine, in suit.

The taunting began but no tears were in my eyes. I checked the cards I had collected to see which heart I should play next. This caused a controversy as to whether I could check them or not, and the majority decided that I could. This is key.

My checking my cards caused people to have loose stools. They frantically starting checking their cards...turns out Ms. Fiancee was mistaken - she had no hearts...and neither of the other gentlemen had any collected cards, which left me with an Unlucky Lady with 11 Hearts.

And 2 more in my hand.

Softly the words from the stereo washed over the table, "and somewhere in the darkness, the gambler he broke even..."

Needless to say, I shot the frickin' moon, which landed me at 62 and added 26 to everyone, sending Ms. Fiancee over the 100 mark, ending the game.

And THAT'S how you play Hearts!

Capitol Security in the Square State

Man, Charm City was supposed to be the dangerous one, but now Denver has played host to an NFL player being gunned down before Christmas and now a crazy emperor-wannabe assailing Cap Hill.

I say we put future threats in a blender with an iPhone for good measure.

Updates of Fatness - II

July 16th
weight: 275.0 lbs
waist: 47.5 in
l. arm: 16.0 in
l. calf: 17.75 in


My increase in calf circum. must be from all the ladies I was kicking off at a Shifty Wedding. Cougars and Kittens alike were giving my profile the eye, and my butt the "accidental" pat.

It just goes to show that as age goes up, so does fatness, yet, so does a female's desperation.

I also got wicked sun-burnt, so maybe they thought I was drunk with inhibitions nil.

Updates of Fatness

July 2nd
weight: 278.5 lbs
waist: 48.0 in
l. arm: 15.0 in
l. calf: 17.0 in

July 9th
weight: 274.5 lbs
waist: 47.5 in
l. arm: 16.0 in
l. calf: 17.0 in

I haven't been super strict, and I'm sure the l.arm measurement is artificial, b/c no one gains an inch on a cold measurement of a bicep in one week unless they were bitten in the tricep by a western diamondback.

My uncle, at a dinner last week, upon seeing me for the first time in a long time, said, "It seems you've gotten larger on us."

ft: "Yes."
uncle: Is it all that seafood out there.
ft: "Yes."

In truth, I only ate seafood once, and it was only 16 oz of shrimp, so I doubt that translated to a 40 lb weight gain. But, I'll let these Westerners believe that every morning I check the crab pots and buy Old Bay Seasoning in kegs.

When in truth I'm in Chipotle so often the managers fight over my attendance at their particular franchise.

Don't tell them the real reason - puh-leaze, ft?

Source, once in NFL:
"While at CU he started two non-profit organizations that focused on youths in grades 6-8 who “didn’t get to choose their financial background.” "

Do they get to choose the alcohol flavor from your "Kids who drink are cool" cooler?

Source, pre-NFL:
"As part of his community service for the misdemeanor conviction, Harris created a nonprofit organization to work with middle-school kids with troubled backgrounds."

A year's Roth IRA contribution and change

I beat the EAU.

Which doesn't make sense, because she is a lot prettier than me.

Than a lot of people, actually.

Maybe I'm worth more dead because I am ugly... like an incentive for the world to be beautified.

I had to select obese on one of the questions. Oy.

$5175.00The Cadaver Calculator - Find out how much your body is worth

Quick hands

This young man also holds the (unverified) masturbation record.

James Dobson has a book in the works to reach out to this special demographic.

shock'n y'all

The most patriotic man in America is a democrat.

Please do not tell Judd the Crud this.

Fatness by the numbers

So July will be my miracle month of getting back into shape. Why, just this morning I went spinning and had a light protein breakfast.

July 2nd
weight: 278.5 lbs
waist: 48.0 in
l. arm: 15.0 in
l. calf: 17.0 in

Here's the alarming thing about waist circumference: each inch gained is not the same.

For instance, assumed your spare tire is 1 inch high, and grows uniformly in a perfect circle outward. From 31 inches to 32 inches, the volume of fat added is 1*pi*(16^2 - 15.5^2) = 49.5 cubic inches. From 47 inch circumference to a 48 inch circumference, 1*pi*(24^2 - 23.5^2) = 74.6 cubic inches is added. In each case, the circumference only increased by one inch, but in the latter the fatness is more severe.

This is why the Battle of the Bulge requires entrenchment - yet, it is common that big results come quickly and then a plateau, so maybe a new perspective on physique-scaping should be that the first few inches lost should be seen as volume lost, to give a boost to self esteem (like a gym sock on a prom date).

My buddy wants to be at 235 by August 1st so he can get a 2 million dollar life insurance policy.

I'll beat him to 235 - my order of speed is being tracked by UPS.com as I type this.

-ft

Freedom of Speech

First Don Imus, and now this.

Granted, the video portraying this situation is very biased and probably edited cleverly, but if even a little bit of truth is maintained, this is scary.

Why the heck didn't the police contain the paraders better?

What is happening to the USA? Why didn't the paraders realize that he was exercising a freedom granted by the country THEY WANT TO JOIN?

I am not taking a stance on the immigration issue here, in a blog, because the anti-blogger blogs here. However, I think this film hints at the ugliness of humanity - to taunt someone when they are bleeding and handcuffed and pelt his car with projectiles is a heck of a way to say "let us show you our appreciation for your country's freedoms."

"And I'll have a chinchilla."

YouVegas.

Read this and get inspired.

Now, there was no follow up to this story. That's because what stays in Vegas must have happened in Vegas.

Wait.

Essentially, though, I feel compelled to leak a little bit of the fun that happened AND be one of the rarest groups in the world: those who POST videos to YouTube. Newsweek (April 30th, 2007: page 18) published a statistic that said only .16% of YouTube visitors are producers.

Laziness.

Unimaginitativeness. (not a word - which shows creativity and imagination) (explaining the process shows condescension)


So, below is my first posted YouTube video. It has no sound because there were legal issues with Toby Keith, who threatened to put a boot in my @$$ for five dollars. But essentially, I was in Toby Keith's I Love This Bar in Vegas during the last 24 hour stay and saw Will Ferrell dressed as Screech dancing with some drunk broad on a girls night out in Vegas:



And it was so much fun that I've decided to do Vegas again tomorrow night, for one night only, this time, less than 24 hours.

This time around, I will have baggage.

I will also have a King Size bed in Harrah's ... and be a permanent fixture in TB's Bar until Check-out at 11AM Sunday.

Then Chipotle on the Strip.

Then, Junktown, Square State, for the most boring month of my life.

Why vegas? B/C flying through Vegas using Southwest and Allegiant Air with a hotel room and 80 dollars play money is tantamount in expenditure to flying straight to Junktown via DIA.

Bangs, bucks, and youth.

Hit me!

DC Short Films made me feel Short.

A friend of mine sent in 4 short films from the Movie Saturday troupe I financially backed earlier in this decade. I told this friend that I would not endorse the submission of the films, and then he countered that there would be critiques. He argued critiques could help focus the group's future work.

So, I forked out the money, and the results are in. Below are the films from Google Video embedded amongst the critiques.

"The 422 films in competition were sent to 16 teams of 3 people (film enthusiasts, filmmakers, critics, previous audience members and artists in other fields). Teams watched each film in its entirety, and was required to score films on four criteria (25 points each): Content, Style, Originality and Technical. The total score a film can receive is 100 points. In addition, films can be "recommended" -- meaning a team would stand behind the film in a debate. They were also asked to write a short paragraph about the film."


Below are the films. The resolution is poor, and the ideas poorer. Some of the critiques are hilarious, some flattering, and some reinforce how I thought a film should be shot.



Try Again



Content 5 Style 5 Originality 5 Technical 5 Total 20

Feedback:
A somewhat visually engaging but strange opening scene —a supine woman on a table to a backdrop of blue light and partly opened blinds— seems to have nothing to do with the rest of the film and is never resolved. Technical aspects are amateurish and weak, from harsh and unnatural lighting to echo-y audio to amateurish transitions. Camera fades between scenes were cute but, especially when combined with the two primary characters moving from chair to chair during the tutoring session, a clumsy way to mark time. Acting is wooden and unconvincing. Repeated lines and interruptions from the third character jar the ear and the sensibilities. The script is feeble and full of clichés at best. The judges did not “get” the film.



Ticking



Content 11 Style 11 Originality 14 Technical 12 Total 47

Feedback:
The effect of tension was sustained throughout the short, but the lighting seemed too bright. The music was effective with the sound of the ticking. The occasional dialogue detracted from the mood of the music and the quality of the repetitive ticking. The ending
could be more dramatic than just the woman with tape on her mouth. It needed more of an overall edge.



The Economy



Content 7 Style 10 Originality 20 Technical 10 Total 47

Feedback:
Interesting idea although the technical problems distracted from the experience of the film. The main actor delivered a credible role given the subject matter.



Safety in Numbers


Content 18 Style 15 Originality 21 Technical 12 Total 66

Feedback:
We enjoyed the idea and general content of the film but were distracted by the technical aspects that would have made the film more enjoyable if corrected. The lighting and the sound was distracting. The film quality was good but the acting could have been better rehearsed. We also were distracted with the cluttering of the set with camera equipement. There was a lot more physical movement than dialogue. Best of luck in your feature endeavors.

---> End Critiques de Short Film "De" "Ce" <---


For all works by the now defunct Movie Saturday group click here.

Feature length films are in the works.

The hardest year.

I gained 40 pounds.
Had my average hours of sleep significantly reduced.
Botched two job interviews.
Failed another grant-attempt.
Thought about quitting.
Flirted with suicide.
Failed to get 1st place in a poster competition.
Lost touch with all my friends.
Picked up the habit of swearing.
Picked up the habit of taking the Lord's Name in vain.
Had 4 short films rejected (with harsh critique) from the DCshort film fest.
Spent Christmas eve in a Korean Airport.

And now I have it. I have the answer in my gmailbox. Whether or not I passed the first year exam.

In the spirit of all things sentimental and moments weighted: Come, check it with me.

No box, no pink slip. I'm in. I'm part of the club.

I did it.

And its the only thing I've done right in a year.

Frazzles

Frazzles the Squirrel is on Cocaine AGAIN.


And finally, a useful and significant contribution from the texters.

Although, for crying aloud, this was my chief complaint about The Departed: overuse of the "marvel" of cellphone technology and the failure of the most advanced law enforcement units to use "triangulation" to nab the rats.


Oh well. As long as those punk Beantowners don't text while in a darkened cinema, I'm all for it.

Good ideas, different vehicles: From computers to comics.

Very clever, very simple, very wonderful parodies.

A sample:


Part 1:


Part 2:


My favorite (the Mac/PC parody):




And the whole meal:

More parodies from where those came.

One Square

I'm glad Sheryl Crow adopted and did not taint the Armstrong line with bad genes.

One Square.

I cannot do it. I remember hearing some of my (disgusting) ROTC friends describe how to use one square in the battle field, and it involved saving a corner of the square to clean underneath your finger nail when you were done cleaning things up with your index finger wearing the rest of the square as a skirt (or maybe a skort!).

Here are the only two ways I could succeed on Ms. Crow's WC recommendation:

1) I get a can the size of hers and only eat Tour de France approved Liqui-gels and jalapenos laden corn, OR
2) Only use one square of tp the size of the Square State.

Here's looking at you, Colo"rad"o.

In the Square State, I live in a neighborhood with six of these guys.

Of course it was aggravated murder.

I'd be aggravated too if some weasely weasel was defiant of my wisdom and even greens.

The best would have been if the youth was playing music on his cellphone while talking into it walkie-talkie style, saying "Where you at? Me? I'm on old man fantasticterrific's lawn, yo. I know, he gets so mad. He pro'bly fill up his Depends, yo!"

Cue shotgun blast, first end credit scene.
Cue the sound of the kid on the other end of the line, asking "What goin' on, what going' on?"
Cue second blast audio.
Cue rolling credits.

I see the world in swirling colors and light.

I use American Express.

-ft anderson

LONG story short

Quiz time, children.

True or False: An orchidometer measures orchids.

True or False: Orchids bloom in your pants.

True or False: A dog can be an author on a refereed paper.

True or False: An alternative and more appropriate name for the paper just linked is "Eat My Balls."

Answer Key:
False
Perhaps (They bloom in mine.)
True
Perhaps

I accidentally was looking at the PDF at 400%, and thought I had some catching up to do.

Before going out to bars to cruise chicks, I view it at 10%.

Before going out to bars to cruise dudes, I view it at 5%.

QOTD

"Today we dodged a bullet. In fact, when you look at the type of weapons that this group was trying to purchase, we may have dodged a lot of bullets." -FBI Agent J.P. Weiss

From this.

J.P. Weiss strikes me as the kind of guy who turns a phrase during auto-erotic acts. I'm sure it is similar to what I hear my neighbor saying at 3AM at night:

"I'm awesome. Girls love me." - Apt. 4910, 3AM

You've just been McCained.

Man, this Google employee should have searched his heart before tackling the war with a POW bonafide hero (the bonafide distinguishes McCain from Kerry).

And, I've heard of World Orgasm Day (the results) and participated with my eyes closed, so I don't know if it counts. And now the Whacky-Wack-off-athon was brought to my attention by Caffo, who reminded me I should always knock before entering his office.

English, and the way to speech it

I was stumped on the lead/led debate, for the first time in my life. I remember explaining it (correctly) when I was in fourth grade to someone who was having trouble on their spelling tests, but I could not think of it today.

And via the web, found this list of common English errors.

Now if I could only erase the Romanian Error that is plaguing my health.

Now if only the web could tell me how to type "just kidding" in Romanian, I'd be set.

Not that I'd type it, but just for the sake of knowledge.

Speaking of sports -

Two of my favorite collegiate football players are now on the same professional team.

Bradlee Van Pelt is known for his intensity and garnering my support during games in which he played my alma mater. I've been in more brawls about him than he has been in his life. He's 6'2 220, the height I am; the weight I once was.

Amobi Okoye is a genius who entered college at 16 and graduated early with a non-communications, non-business degree in 3.5 years. Oh - and he played collegiate football the whole time and did it well enough to be drafted 10th overall in this most recent 2007 draft. At 19 years of age. He is 6'2'', 302 lbs, the age I used to be, the height I am, the weight I'm destined to be.

I think it's about time I bought me up a Texans cap.

Yee-haw.

They took hatred and made it a sport.

I hate texting. It destroys most of my cinema experiences as of late. I have no idea why some kid would pay 8 bucks to "see" a movie and spend 30 minutes of it texting "Hey wassup? ;-P" only to wait for the reply, "no much dirdee dawg :-0" only to reply "in movie. meet l8r?" to get the reply "no, crrntli mking out with ur mom." to reply "which 1???" to be replied with "da one with them big ol b00b13z!? :*# " to only reply this with "kewl. save me slice of dat axion! ;-)"

All the while we realize the full circle of Matt Damon's complex, but not explicitly revealing character in The Good Shepherd while he hugs his son on what was to be his wedding day.

Well, texting is now a sport, with classic man v. machine races.

Just keep the practicing out of the theaters.

No, no. I'll just keep myself out of the theaters.

My kid's name is Intestinal Fortitude.

If you thought having a niece named Zipporah, and a nephew named Arrow was too much, imagine your favorite sports hero being named Will Power.

Yeah, Wiki has him too.

It is enough to make me send little Zip and little Arrow to Austraila and then bomb the place.

And in case you are wondering, my first born will be named "fantastic" (lowercase f on purpose) and my second child named "Warren." Just kidding. You know the rest, and I'm only having dos ninos.

6'2" 275 pounds

Man, this is why I do not go to clubs on "under 21 nights".

Also, FYI and BTW, I am 6'2'', 275 lbs and do not need a gun to make people feel scared.

This Wilson guy sounds like a real j-hole.

And his poor cousin - if only it was a brother. The blood between brothers is so thick...cousins are for kissing.

No. 42 has hit it out of the park, bringing home No. 42, No. 42, and No. 42 for a grand slam home run.

I Just Think This will be confusing.

Nonetheless, I'm looking forward to an image of this. Should be trippy.

Trends hit too close to home.

Amazing.

"[S]cientists have recently become increasingly concerned with what they say is a rising level of violent activity among the large mammals."

Here at Charm City U:

1) I've become more violent (think: The Wire).
2) I've become more large (the scale says 275 lbs).
3) I've become more mammalian (I'll show you sometime).

Give me sugar! I'm too ripped!

Wearing a suit exempts you from being a criminal. Ask Bill Clinton.

Also, apparently "trying diabetic medications" doesn't make you a recreational drug user.

These points, and more, inspired by THIS.

It apparently only take 15 minutes...and an audience.

My fifth grade experience was a little different than this.

Wi-fi blocking paint and with-it women

I enjoyed this blog entry on Wi-fi blocking paint.

Three things, Amigos:

1. The idea/chemical technology is sweet.

2. The fact that this Gina Hughes is purported to be a "Techie Diva" but yet attributes her Wi-fi security to her husband (presumably, a man) really makes me think that she is just allowed to write these articles to feel good about herself, instead of producing babies and driving a mini-van to soccer practice in the greater New Jersey area.

3. Her name is Gina. For correct pronunciation, see the "40-year-old Virgin."

And if any one posts a comment to the effect of "Behind every great man is a woman," I'll secretly agree with you but make fun of you on the internet so bad that my secret agreement will be of no consolation to your wounded e-soul.

Hema and Herma

The hematologists have blood rushing to certain areas over this one.

Betting man

So, my bracket was so glorious. I was winning the first round, because I had a "micro upset" theory, in which if a match happened where a team's seed was just one lower than its opponent, that team would win, and thus be a "mini-upset."

Well, now it is for naught. I lost my 5 dollars as I've reached my max points. I lost my pride because I bet a girl who entered the competition dinner insofar as who would have a high point total betwixt us (she bested me by 4 points).

So then, I decided to place a wager with the king of decision theory in the department. He had 64 points, with a potential of 80, and I was stuck at my 71. He had been taunting me all week with his stories of "what could've happened" with Xavier. So, I emailed him for a side wager, without knowing what game his 16 points depended on and what team it depended on. He definitely had the upper hand knowing what game and what team the wager would ride -

He agreed, and we went in for 5 dollars, which, if the Bruins lose against the Gators, will help me break even, as I lost 5 dollars to enter the overall bracket competition (*but wait fantasticterrific, you still owe that lady dinner! you bring to my attention.* Please, foolish one. That girl has to be seen in public with me - I definitely win).

Also, to spice it up, I will change my name to Bruins Terrific if UCLA wins, and he to Professor Alligator if Florida wins.

Motivation. Imitation.

The pacifying of children.

I wish someone would give me a sticker to make me feel better.

Square State denizens are such j-holes.

Injustice

Why the Good Lord left us Eddie Griffin and not Princess Di, I may never know.

Man, Elton John would have really been strapped to write an appropriate song for the man who gave us the Rightist Undercover Brother as well as the Leftist John Q.

If you want free heart transplants, go to frickin' Europe. I'm tired of this debate.

Remember, while Europe pioneered free health care, America invented the missionary position.

You're welcome.

My tattoo wishes

I just had "Biostats Charm City U" tattooed in my mouth.

Inspiration.

Taxing

So, I freakin' did my taxes, and I thought I was going to have a beautiful relationship with TaxActOnline.com. Things started off well enough. You have to create a user name and password, and I decided to have fun with the password, so I entered:

"TaxesAreMyBlood"

And I received the error message "your password is too common. Please try again."

I was sure the system detected the word "tax" and would not allow it, but to test this I entered:

"TaxManHumpMe"

And was cleared.

This is foreshadowing. I continued to go through the most frustrating, cryptic and irrelevant line of questioning, filling out forms that ultimately had 0's in all entries for Federal, Square State, and Charm State taxes. After hours of this, it notifies me I can only file state taxes for an additional fee. I muttered something about them having me by the fatness of my balls and got out my credit card, and then a screen dictates to me that I can only file one state's return with my Federal. So all the info I poured in to this pea-brained interface was a waste. So, I decided to file the Federal and Square state, since it was only Charm State in which I owed money.

I went directly to Charm State's free interface, and was impressed yet again (I remember last year telling all my friends in Square state (3 in all) how awesome the Maryland iFile is, and 2 of them told me I was nerd, and the other, a girl who loves to work through the ranks of Math Departments, wanted to buy me a drink. We got to talking, and she reminded me that I had performed well on the Putnam a few years back and laid a hand on my thigh and gave it a squeeze, leaned in and whispered something in my ear. It was in a bar, so I did not hear her very well, but the key words I heard were "Fourier" and "double jointed." I replied that I hadn't heard of that kind of spline and took a sip of my beer, and she left quietly after paying the tab not feeling very pretty).

I digress. Sirs, I digress.

Anyway, after using iFile, it turns out the Fat Codgers at TaxAct estimate of my owing Charm State 363 dollars was wrong, and in fact I was due 194.

And of course, they have a disclaimer waiving any responsibility.

My question is, if states have direct filing systems, why doesn't the goverment? I mean, e-file doesn't exist...you go there, and the government just syphons you off to one of a bajillion sites to file for free, and some of them look sketchier than the email subject lines in my spam folder ("tAxE$_R_aWEsoMe.com" "impressHerWithTheNewSizeOfYourREturn.com", etc).


Uncle Sam, get off your monopoly high horse, and take a page from the states' tax book.

1 in 25 million

I love it. The Vegas odds, the panache, the geek chic-ness of it all.

Jeopardy!

I wonder if there have been 25 million episodes of Jeopardy yet... but I don't know how expected values work so I shouldn't talk.

-Susquehanna reject

Baseball cards

So this is the new news.

This is the greatest news.

I don't care if I get the gum. This is priceless. Cal and Cal Jr. have big shadows...big shadows with no curse words.



Poor Billy.


~fantastic face

You sit around in a robe all day and you get paid more than the president. Shut up.

I have to wear jeans (tight, for the ladies) and think really hard all day, and I'm only making 10% what they're making.

And what were you doing your first year after getting your undergrad degree?

If your answer is "getting paid while getting laid," you're not so much cool as you are a prostitute.

Or, a lucky debutante marrying up after four sorority-drunk years of college.

I'm really bummed they did not reference "De Niro in Brazil" when they mentioned Spiderman and Batman, but this is the sign of the pop (goes the weasel) culture in which we live.

-Ignatius J.

The Death of Wiki?

Interesting conversation on Wiki's validity issues.

Cruise Citizendium.

SBUX closed two days ago was nothing compared to this.

Man. I'm bummed. I wanted her to get to 80 so my grandson could date her for her deceased husband's oil tycoon money.

Travesty. Cold-hearted Travesty. Is there a God?

Frozen pipes closed one downtown Chicago Starbucks for several hours Monday, and employee Jerry Berry, 24, said some customers stood in disbelief for several moments before moving on to the next shop a few blocks away.

-Reference

Well, at least disbelief in this country is cured by a few blocks walk instead of wondering hopelessly why refugees are being raped by invading forces, spreading AIDS like brushfire through the dark continent of Africa.

Disbelief.

Put them at my door. I'll give them something to disbelieve. Those fat, cocky Chicago codgers!

Why, even Hester, knows there are bigger disappointments than a SBUX being closed -

Like losing the Superbowl.

Congrats, Peyton.

Life imitates Sports, or Sports imitates Life?

Exhibit A: Me.

I think of myself like a Shannon Sharpe in some ways, in that I left the Square State a rockstar to come to Charm City to win a Superbowl, and then went back to the Square State to suck it up (well, Shannon played some more (no superbowls after Charm City) and became a high-paid game analyst; I had a car explode on I-70 and an ex-galpal makeout with the MCATs more than she would with me).

Exhibit B:

A friend of mine, as I type this, is gearing up to move from the Square State to Bean town.

I assure you, my friend is not Todd Helton.

I assure you, he programs like Todd Helton bats, though: stellarly.

Lovely.

Nothing to sneeze at or wipe with.

To cheat the market, it seems like it would be best to build a time machine, go back one day with knowledge of mid cap performance (not too big, not too small, high volume) and buy.

But this guy can't control time.

But he did the best he could, I guess.

21 years old. 83k rich. You cannot live this fast, this long.

I can't wait to connect to these the tech-nos

Interesting.

I was close to this as a freshman in college being without cellphone or home computer. But this just meant that I lived in libraries hitting refresh (these are before my ctrl + r) days) on my Juno account.

And what the heck became of Juno?

You're right. A better question is, what the heck became of me?

Things said to me while running

1) "Run Forrest, Run!"
2) "Pick up your heels!"
3) "It's the Jolly Green Giant"
4) "Put your shirt on your fat, white f-ck!"
5) "Where you running to - McDonald's?"

Only in Charm City. In the Square State, the default is indifference to runners, but more than likely you'll get a smile or "hey" or "good morning" or "I shouldn't be alone tonight - are you straight?"

Well, I've received one compliment and one TBD statement. The compliment was "Hey, man you're really fast." which was given to me by a passerby that I crossed twice on a loop of Federal Hill. The TBD statement was given to me this morning ... I was running in my UnderArmour suit, which is bullet proof (runners in Charm City are not exempt from being shot in the nads). A gentleman called out to me, "It's Peyton Manning; Pey-ton Man-ning."

My weekend was so wild (between the lines: | I didn't spend the night in my bed, but in Jail - for public display of lascivious, lecherous, and/or lewd dancing |) that I only know that the Bears are in the Superbowl. I don't know if the Pats or the Colts are in. This is what determines if what the man said to me this morning is an insult or not...if the Colts won because Manning decided to take a page from Ron Mexico's book and scramble for Victory (not for Vick-tory (aka, Weed laced with STDs)), then the statement is a compliment because the man is associating me with winning. If the Colts lost, then he gave me the biggest verbal purple nurple, because he associated me with losing and the fact that I am a male and do not know who is in the Superbowl is as pathetic as going to an Opera and not crying.

Why do I write this out...because, in the spirit of past postings I am allowing the reader to find out as I find out. Of course, if you have a pulse, then you already know, and you'll just get to see me experience joy or pain.

Okay, I'm going to google Colts Patriots game, and see what happens.


Okay, that's the first time google failed me. Onto ESPN.com...

Victory! So I'm a winner. Plus, he might have broken his thumb, just like I did in a masturbating tournament in 8th grade. I'm sure the man who gave the comment did not know this, but he probably did know that Peyton Manning attempted 2 rushes and got zero yards...

Maybe it was an insult.

I hate this town.

Fantastic.
Terrific.

The Woe in Woman

As if I don't hear enough about the burden of birth control choice/complications, now I get to hear how hard the world is to women who Vonage.

Also, Ron Mexico is up to his tricks again - this time with a magical water bottle that might contain an STD ridden little girl named Mary Jane.

Viva la Mexico!

The Fattest Mile

First, get an education:

1) Read this.
2) Have some kind of knowledge of UnderArmour's "click-clack" campaign and the fact that Jeremy Bloom is dating my ex-gal-pal.

Crap. I just noticed I've been typing after eating a greasy cookie and now I have a greasy keyboard. And a Dell Representative on my @$$ about a void 3-year warranty.

This is a story about half-marathons. And love.

After the full marathon of 2005, I decided to run a half-marathon with a pace in mind: sub-2.

The running calculators all said, based on my marathon speed, that I should be able to complete a half marathon in slightly under half my marathon time, 2 hours 12 minutes. The calculators projected, based on my weight, that I should be due for a quadruple by-pass and stomach stapling in one year.

I declared my intentions at the beginning of 2006: to run the Baltimore Half Marathon in under 2 hours. This would require a significant increase in my pace and would lead to me getting as ripped as a torn sheet.

My intentions were pure and true, but I did not start running consistently until March. Somewhere in there I got really efficient and started having aspirations to run the Full Marathon.

And this is where the Girl Who Shook up 2006 comes in.

She had never run a race over 10 meters to the Biker who just bought her a Grey Goose Vodka Tonic. The fact that she was rich was not so much that she never had to pay for drinks because of her beauty as it was that her parents were more loaded than Michael J. Fox's little black book back in '85.

Anyhow, affections were exchanged, and plans were altered and made and altered.

Girl: I want to come to Charm City and run with you.
ft: Okay. I'm doing the full marathon.
Girl: The half.
ft: The half under-2.
Girl: The half, however long it takes, you stay by my side.
ft: Fine.
Girl: And another thing-
ft: What, Princess?
Girl: I don't like to talk while running.
ft: So you save your verbosity for only when I want to kiss you repeatedly?
Girl: [beat] This will be fun!


So, in the spirit of being a nice doormat, I conceded.

I then took her out for a real nice meal of food, she said she needed her space but that we were cool and then she said we needed to talk and things were said and we hugged forever on her front step and she reiterated how important it is that we stay friends because that way she could claim me as a trophy. A sweet line at a party, "Oh, we'll meet tomorrow after I have breakfast with my ex. Yeah, we're great friends. I stay friends with all my exes (because I am so frickin' awesome). Yeah, my dad just sold 250 stocks to get me a new Acura!"

Anyhow, the point of this longeur is that I had already signed up for the half and could not do the whole marathon.

Also, Charm City U's streamlined PhD program only gave me enough time to run once a week. At happy hour the night before, I asked Caffo if he was ready for his race in a couple weeks time. He said, "Ah, no. I'd probably get a super slow pace like an hour forty. You know, slower than turtle soup being sh@t out in Febrero, bro."

I was praying to God in Heaven for just slightly under 2 hours so I could say I achieved at least one of my goals this year and spike the victory ball in the ex's face. Hour forty and I would build a church and wear a WWJD bracelet and then wear a dress to a Chemical Engineering lecture filled with lecherous bisexuals.

So I got up early the morning of the half marathon. I put on my race gear and went to the fridge to get my secret weapon: a 24 oz. bottle of red fruit punch nozzled Gatorade. You see, even though all the odds were against me completing a sub-2 half marathon, my pride wouldn't let me let go of it. In order to have a chance at it, I was going to skip all drink stations and carry my own liquid.

Go and give a quick consult of the running literature, and you will be left with the solid opinion of the running commmunity that this is the dumbest idea in the world.

So it is just me and my Gatorade walking in my racing bib to the start. I pass these two gentlemen waiting for the bus.

Man 1: "Don't look like you running very fast."

Man 2: "hehe hee"

ft: "Race hasn't started yet. I'm walking to the start line."

Man 1: "Don't they provide you with Gatorade?"

Man 2: "hehe hee"

ft: "Yes, but -"

Man 1: "Are you rich, man?"

Man 2: "Hoo whee. I smell it."

So I took the Skywalk to the IH (Inner Harbor, Wire fans) and stood in a thick gaggle of people. Some were hugging each other wishing each other luck. One lady had a garbage sack around her, squatting over a drain, peeing. Another dude had his BlueTooth on and was saying things like "Yes. I understand. I'm important, too." A bunch of kids circled around me and grabbed the fat on my waist and back and started flapping it like a parachute in gym class, all making giggling noises. Luckily, Blue left a clue back at Oriole stadium, and they left me after only a few minutes of utter embarrassment.

I'm already getting distracted the innanity of The OC on TV. I can't concentrate, and I cannot get away from it because I am homeless in Denver writing this.

Anywho.

The gun goes off, and the surge happens. I reason that if I have any chance at the sub-2, I'm going to need to flirt with disaster and run faster than I ever trained right from the start. Give a quick consult to the running literature, and you will find that I am liar. This is the dumbest idea on earth.

I am trucking. I am weaving all over the place. Up on the sidewalk as well as into stopped traffic on the wrong side of the median. I look at my watch at mile 1: 8:22. If you just dumped your pants, I apologize, and empathize. A 240 lb man should not be moving that fast, even if it is $0.99 day at Golden Corral.

I then spot Haruki. Haruki is a kid in my PhD program who is the newest running god. He ran 140 miles in the Sahara. No joke. He is ripped like a torn sheet. Shredded as Kraft South Beach approved 2% mild cheddar.

He is clapping and rooting on everyone. Then his Japanese-American eyes spot me.

"Hey, fantasticterrific, I just saw a couple of old ladies ahead of you. Better pick it up."

I felt like shouting back "All your base are belong to us" but decided that only Sacha Baron Cohen and Carlos Mencia can be racists - if fantasticterrific or Michael Richards speaks up - whoa Nelly (this is not a black joke - it is just an expression. Shut up, Kramer. Kramer, shut up and let me handle this!).

After Haruki delivered his line, I shouted, in celebration of all things Wes Anderson,

"With friends like you, who need friends!"

And continued on my comet-like arc through Murdermore.

I check at mile 2, my timepiece. 16:43. I just not only have kept this hellacious pace up for 2 miles, but ran the second faster than the first. If you just dumped your fresh panties, I apologize and empathize.

Same business at mile 3. 25:03.

Skipping the drink stations was going very well. However, my memory was playing tricks on me. During the full marathon, I remember food stations every quarter mile. Utz potato chips, gels, pretzels, wedding cakes, car bombs, etc.

Point is, I'm hungry. When you have 240 lbs moving through the thicker air of sea level port towns, you have to fuel it with more than sips from your own bottle of Gatorade.

The food station did not appear until mile 8. Oh - and the 8:20 mile pace slowly gave way, too. 8:45's, 9:00's, an 11:00. May have been the hills. May have been the frickin' OC sucking so much. Who watches this garbage? Peaches? Ex-French Ex-Husbands? Prostitute rings? Peter Gallagher?

And f***ing Adam Brody. How does someone who delivers so much charisma in Thank You For Smoking suck so bad on a role that should be more natural? The world's a stage, and he is on the moon.

Back to the race -

I keep doing stupid things like checking my watch at the mile markers for the Full Marathon, which differ by .1 mile in the wrong direction from those of the half. It keeps slamming my psyche. I start coming to the realization that running a race with an ideal time, a challenging time in mind sucks.

I was praying for a swift death.

I was praying that Gustave would claim me.

At mile 10, I was 99% certain that I was going to walk if I had no chance of making it under 2 hours. My legs were being worn to stubs.

However, I somehow was still in the game. No aloof support staff, no bleeding nipples, just absolute stupidity and a gatorade bottle. Rock on.

However, I'm going to need some consistent 9:00 minute miles to make it, and I have never ran 9:00's before race day, let alone 9:00's after running 10 miles. The bookies in Vegas are giving me 8,000 to 1 of sub-2ing it. Just for reference, the chance of accidentally being sent a Ron Mexico shirt is 4,096 to 1.


The home stretch brought back all sorts of great memories from the full marathon, like finally seeing Roman's eternally youthful face at mile 24. This time around, there were no Roman and Boston to help me run over the last incline on the Cathedral street bridge, but just pain and a whole lot of people passing me. That was one huge stinking difference between my full and half marathon experiences: in the full I was picking people off, moving up a full 30 minutes in pace. This time around, I was getting whooped by 3:30 pacers for the full marathon (the full marathon started 2 hours before the half). Psychologically, physiologically, mentally, religiously, and e-harmonically, I was a mess.

Blah blah blah. Keep reading.

So, finally, I get to Camden Yards. I'm determined to sprint to the numbers above the finish line, especially if they are closing in on 4:00:00 (which would indicate my 2 hour finish). I come through Camden Yards, and someone yells the most misleading phrase in I have ever heard in my own life, save "Girls are not sexual beings" :

"Only a hundred yards to go."

My brain clicked in. A hundred yards is a 10 second sprint, because I'm an NFL caliber athlete. The finish line is not in sight because of the curves it takes out of Camden Yards. So, when the Hundred Yards was announced, I chucked my Gatorade bottle and 5 oz. of Gatorade to the side. I heard the Oriole Mascot "Trixie, Hon" yell, "Hey, that guy just disrespected Cal Ripken, Jr." to which I replied, "No, his brother, Billy, already disgraced the entire game and the streak."

It was not 100 yards.

It was not 200, 300, 400, or 500. I started sprinting 580 yards out. Of course, I only lasted 15 seconds and then shifted down into "I have just run over 13 miles at a pace I have never run 1 mile" gear and prayed that the python/gator team would lash out of the crowds and take my life.

Finally, the numbers. 3:54:00. I flipped. I remembered my friend, who is 6'4'', 170 lbs ran a half marathon in 1:54:?? and I was poised to beat it with shorter legs, a bigger gut, and thusly, by guy logic, a huger wangoleer and a gold-er heart.

I turned on the juice, and to the outside observer, nothing happened.

I crossed the finish line. I beat 1:55. I'm stoked. I stumble around and the crew puts a heat blanket on me. I collected my half marathon medal and was sorely disappointed. Apparently the race fees increase was not seen in a heftier medal, but rather a slimmer medal and the bigger boobs of Ms. Baltimore UnderArmour 2006.

Suddenly I was worried about my time of finish. There was one check point around mile 9 were I got muscled to the shoulder and did not run over the checkpoint platform. I stumbled to the questions booth and they told me to not worry about that, but to rather worry about my choice of haircut, and proceeded to ask "Ronald McDonald" if he eats at McDonald's every time he visits the restaurant.

They said if I wanted my official time that I needed to go to the timing booth. It was as I stumbled over there I ran into two friends of mine: one from Charm City Swing (in unison, "Hey, I didn't know you were a runner!") and a girl who wears too much make-up on Fridays during Charm City U's Happy Hour ("Hey, Girls are sexual beings, Curly.")

I said my hellos and then continued waddling over to the time booth, when a nasty little thought took root in my brain: the race clock and my watch differed by the amount of time it took me to go from the waiting area to the starting line. Was it more than 5 minutes? If so, it meant that I missed my mark. If not, it meant that I was the Al Gore of Half Marathon Running (forget Al Gore the Loser - he's a Winner when it comes to Global Warming!).

Regardless, the first blow to my elation of race finishing came with the time discrepancy realization that I did not beat my 6' 4'' friend's 1:54. But to heck with that, I just wanted sub-2 so that my ex could not only wonder if Jeremy really loved her or just watching him love on her in the mirrors on the ceiling, but also gnaw on the fact that I just slammed dunked the race in which she otherwise would have held me back from glory.

I stood in line, and the lady punched in my bib number, printed out a receipt, looked at the time, then looked at me, looked at the time, and then looked me up and down, and then smiled. She then said, "You're fat. I mean, fast."

1:57:54

Sub-2!

A nearby high school choir started singing Hallelujah! Hallelujah! and the skies opened letting light into the darkest city featured on HBO. I decided to head home and eat a lot of food, shower up and sleep to speed along recovery. But then something caught my eye...

and then a realization struck my noggin.

The UnderArmour tent where they were showcasing new products. UnderArmour is the namesake sponsor of the marathon. Jeremy Bloom is a model for UA. Jeremy Bloom was doing victory dances in my ex's bedroom every night at 1 AM MST. Jeremy Bloom gets whatever he wants when he wants it.

I waddled over to the UA tent angrily eating my banana, wrapped in my heat blanket. I saw Jeremy's huge, pristine image in Black and Gold skin tight UA gear in an oversized advertisement above the tent. I can only attest the next events to the depletion of endorphins, as I am the first to admit that it is petty and irrational.

And awesome.

I stood in front of the tent, staring up at the advertisement. People were walking around me, and I was somewhat of an obstruction to the entering and egress of the tent. I then shouted, "Click, Clack, I think YOU heard me coming, Bloom!" and jumped up and spit out banana all over the Hilfiger-World-Class-Skier-Womanizer-Philly-Eagle's image. My legs, strong enough for the explosion upwards, were not strong enough for gravity's inevitable pull, and I collapsed upon my return to earth. It was here that AJ Hawk and Reggie Bush quietly stepped in from the side and picked me up and walked me to the edge of the premesis.

I found out later as the results were compiled that the average time was 2:14:57 and that the winner was a 1:03. This is great. I beat the average and at least was not outrun twice as quickly by the winning runner as I was in the full marathon. Another bonus is that I was the fastest person over 225 lbs, as well as the only person over 225 lbs.

I inquired to the JFK 50 miler organizers as to who was their heaviest finisher in the last 44 years the race has been going, and they said 263 lbs. So, sports fans, I am going to get up to 265 and do a 50 miler in November so that I can inspire the fattening Americans to fight Obesity - which is more than Bloomberg or Kennedy ever asked of me or any red-blooded New Yorker or American.