No place I'd rather be

than sitting at my desk at 8:45 on Friday night...the friday night of labor day weekend in fact. I got a half 12 pack of Natty Boh at my apartment just waiting for me to drink...but I think I'll just sit here for a little while longer...maybe another 2 hours or so. After all, I've been practically just sitting here for the past hour anyway, what's two more, right?

For those unware, Natty Boh is Baltimore's version of the King. The main difference, to me at least, and I don't mean to offend the King because the King is good people, is that my stomach doesn't fight me for a full day after like it does when pounding kings. I've had some pretty intense trauma from a day or two after a fun night or 3 of the king. Natty Boh, so gentle, so friendly.

So as I fought off tears while walking around work today, I started to think about this whole "business like mentality" thing you're supposed to have at work. Like how to get the job done for the good of the company or client, you're supposed to be willing to give up your free time or make sacrifices...all in the name of good business. I think today I realized that this is total bullshit.

Why is it that the place where I spend the majority of my time, do I get treated the worst? And I don't think it's just me or people that I work with...and honestly we don't get treated all that badly, it's just that we don't get to be who we are.

Essentially, I go through everyday holding something back. Be it a manic day when I'm off the wall and could literally run up the side of a wall until I hit the ceiling or the day when I want to literally slap the annoying girl who starts everyone of my days with a very very very friendly "Good morning!" But you can't do it...I guess I understand why I can't do either of those things, moreso the walls thing because we just remodeled and don't want to mess up the new paint, but still.

I guess this is what makes work, work. Here we are now though, I just found out that the document I'm waiting to finalize before I can go home has just been totally changed around. It's 9 pm on a weekend with a midnight deadline and we are now pushing everything else back 45 minutes...which means I went from leaving at 10 to leaving around 11, minimum.

This is what I'm talking about. No apology to be expected. No thanks for your sacrifice, here's an extra something to say thank you...just a "this is what's expected of you an oh by the way, we're gonna need you to come in on saturday." True story, just not for me. Plenty of people who have worked past midnight more than once this week will be here tomorrow and the day after and on Labor Day for more exciting, ever so important projects for people who make it a point to let you know how little they care about you.

Sorry to go down this overall road of positivity and all but that's what happens after two straight days of working until your eyes go blurry and the only break you get is to go into the bathroom that literally smells worse than the monkey cages at the zoo. I kid you not, it's brutal. I won't even go in the one on my floor anymore, it's just awful.

One would think that in the place you spend the most amount of time, there would be some underlying understanding between everyone that we're all in this together and what not but it's just not like that. It's every person for his or herself with a giant F U waiting for each and every person just hiding beneath the surface.

So if you're in DC around 14th street, do me a favor and bring me by a 6 pack of anything with the word beer in the description. That'd be nice of you.

Roots

Roots baby.

I do my best thinking after my bridge workouts. After feeling sorry for myself for not getting pt this weekend, I decided that the best thing to do would be to turn it into a positive and get to work. After working until 1 am last night, I was able to leave today at 5:30, so I came home and took off for the bridge. I ran hard there, stretched, did the bridge workout and then some stairs, followed by a run back.

I do my best thinking on the way back from these workouts and thinking I did. Roots baby. Roots.

So I'm running along Rock Creek Parkway and all these cars are backed up. I decided I wish I was the biggest badass I know and maybe the biggest bad ass ever. Why? Because as I was running along the path and all the cars were backing up at a light, I thought of a really good way to acquire a motorcycle. Wait for some person on a bike to be sitting at a light and jump that mofuka. Just knock him off his bike, throw in a few courtesy punches and stomps for good measure and off I go.

Here are the problems that currently would cause this situation to go awry:

1. I can't drive a motorcycle because I don't know how
2. I am not a badass and to actually get the bike, you'd need to beat a person with a helmet on senseless and that would be pretty hard
3. As my pops has always said, "You're just one of those kids who doesn't get away with anything"...and he's right. So I'd get caught quickly.

Here's how I could rectify this situation:

1. Work in tandem with my boy Bert. He can have the bike and I'll take the credit for the plan, like Verbal Kint.

2. Carry a baseball bat wherever I go. If you lose with a bat, you don't deserve the bike or the credit.

3. According to statistics, a class I never took, I can't get caught every time, so go in with confidence. As I've learned this year, it's all about confidence, no matter what you do.

Roots baby. Quentin P. Live trying to get back to them. Holler at your boy.

what it is what it is

i'm in a similar position that i was in about 3 weeks ago. it's 10:35 and 30 minutes ago, the lights started to flicker in the hallway. I guess they caught onto the extra 1 minute of power they were paying for and fixed the lights in my office because those bad boys dim exactly at 10:05 these days.

Here at the office I am. Missing a fantasy football draft I also am. However, I do get to hear a constant pounding on the ceiling since 9:00 am for they are now remodeling the 10th floor of my building. It's pretty sweet. For a while, the fire alarm faintly went off this afternoon. Then at 4:30 it went off for real and half of the building I work with just went home. Bastards. They've been home for the same amount of time I've been collecting OT tonight....which I guess isn't all that bad.

But it's 10:30 and and I have minimum 2 hours left to go tonight....and then I press the repeat button on the N64 and I'm back at the same schwag deal all over again tomorrow.

My recent struggle has been what it means to have a blog. I tell people I do and they kind of look at me like i'm a self absorbed asshole...and I think they're sort of right. After all, what do I talk about here? Ultimately, it comes back to what goes on around me...and that's not all that exciting since I'm currently lacking in the walking down the middle of a street booting left and right kind of story. All I am going with are my experiences and the dullness of them all.

Today we started bantering with the new kickball team...so I guess some of those rads might be checking this out...that could get interesting. Usually, I only like this thing shared when it's something that could scare people...sometimes I wish I had video of the night I destroyed Bert's house because that could serve as my token "Do not encourage the animals" video.

But I'm thinking I'm hitting that part of the night where delirium kicks in...yep. Has to be. Today I've heard Kanye's "Stronger" at least 6 times on the same radio station...I have Sirius at work and for $14 a month, I like it because there are a ton of stations but it'd be nice to hear Stronger less than twice per hour. I've been rocking this one station for the entire day and they've repeated many songs multiple times, but Stronger is the only one I've heard twice in an hour.

On nights where we stay late, we order food. When I stay, I usually order the food because it gives me a better chance of picking the style of cuisine we feast on that night and therefore I don't get stuck eating food from places that ought to be shut down. After 8 years in DC, I know that if a place is located on certain streets or the prices are too good to be true, it's because the dumplings are likely made of the pigeons that were scooped up in a bag off of K street earlier that morning...so I'll pass thank you on the restaurant that offers Pizza, Chinese food and kabobs...just a little too shady for me.

I was also thinking about my previous post about work diets and what not. I realized today that it took me about 2 years to condition myself to not have big lunches everyday. I used to rock the burrito or 3000 calorie salad or any other meal that would fill you up right. I forgot how hard it used to be to see noon or 1 on the clock and think that there was no way I was going to eat something small that day...and I remember the rationalizations I'd come up with, like I ran last night or I'm running this weekend, etc. It was really tough to get out of that mindset, but like the 3 year plan I had in my head, I had to commit hard to a goal and only hope I had the strength to achieve it.

So if you read that and doubt yourself, don't. Put the thought in the back of your head. Bring a small sandwich or salad to work and eat that. Give yourself 30 minutes after you finish and if you're still hungry, eat a granola bar or banana or something...just try to stay away from the calorie bombs.

I stuck my d!ck in the wall and all i got was f*cked

Chesapeake 2007, a.k.a. Truck Stop actually beats a nationals opponent before nationals.

I saw a lot of strong play from my team this weekend...emphasis on saw as I played a total of 13 points in 6 games....but that's another story for another 25 hour rant about how that makes me feel.

anyway, so we started with Chain from the A-T-L. Let me back up. We started with a first round bye, which was probably the best advantage we could have ever asked for. Why? Because it was 95 degrees out and the most humid day of the summer yet. It was terrible. I drank water constantly on the sidelines and was still rather dehydrated. I was dry heaving on the drive home and at times felt like I wasn't going to make it. It was a little scary. Oh, and I was by myself on the ride home, so all I kept thinking about was not suddenly passing out and trying to stay focused...but then I would dry heave again. I think I made it through because I really didn't want to boot all over myself, steering wheel and floor mat because nothing really gets that out. Additionally, if I were to do that, despite the amazing amount of comedy it would bring to anyone who ever heard about it afterwards, at that point I'd want to drive the car off the road just because there is no explaining booting all over yourself, even if you've been standing in the middle of a field with over 100 degrees temperature beating down on you for 8 straight hours. Miserable.

So we played Chain, who made it to semis at nationals last year. They did not have their full team, but they had plenty of talent. We beat them on double game point, which is pretty sweet because in Colorado we lost 4 games on dgp and only won 1 of them.

After Chain, we played Mad Cow from what can only be the worst place in America. On the 1 point I played (first point of the game), I was guarded by a short fat kid wearing a t shirt that was either 14 years old or the reason one of his teammates was missing his middle tooth. Honestly, this game was like playing all of Cletus' children, only they are pretty athletic. But this shirt was torn around half the collar and generally made this kid look like he had just left the troth, where breakfast had been served. Did I mention we hate this team? We played them last year. Lost 1 won 1. But every game caused numerous arguments and other crap and generally we hate this fucking yokel, inbred team. There are some guys who played with Jawbone last year that play with them now, so they had that sole redeeming factor because I get along with those guys and we have nice banter going back and forth.

Oh yeah, we won 9-7.

Then we played Boston...a combo of Metal and DoG. We had lost a game we should have won in Colorado on dgp to these guys, so we knew we could take them. We did. 13-11. This was the first time I've ever beaten a Boston team, be it Metal or DoG. It felt good...really really good because this was the only game I cared about all weekend. I was pretty pissed to get a total of 3 points in the first two games, so mentally I was out of those. I was into the Boston game, only got to play 2 points, but still into it, and was happy with the effort put forth by our entire team. The highlight for me was when Stout, our 6'4 defender, got a layout D on one of Boston's best cutters (Gibson). It was a highlight to me because Stout had been telling me how his brother had said Gibson was the only player he'd ever played against that was better than him...so I thought of a little sibling rivalry and that made me laugh...therefore, highlight.

We ended the day beat PoNY on a lightening shortened game. They were pretty beat up after a long, tough day, but started to come on strong in the second half as we appeared to be fading. I got to play a few points in this game, but by the time I felt like I could compete (after being cold from standing on the sideline all day), the game was called.

So 4-0 for the Truck. Great Success.

Sunday started with Truck Bowl III as Truck Stop took on Big Ass Truck (BAT). We kind of stole their name and I've always felt a little awkward about it but they've never said anything, so I guess it's ok...that and we have never lost to them, so does that make the name ours? Probably not until we have the nationals success that they have experienced. We rolled these guys pretty easily. I got to play 4 points, which was nice. I was thinking that the day before was just an aberration, but I was wrong as these were the last 4 points of my tournament. The game itself was great for us as we kept on rolling from the day before.

Now we were in the semis vs. Ring. We don't usually get along with Ring but this game was pretty even tempered. I think for the first time ever they started to respect us a little and that is nice. In the 3 years of Truck Stop, we've played Ring 4 or 5 times. In everyone but 1 of those games, we've either taken half or been right with them at halftime...last year in the finals at regionals we took half. We always get a break on the first couple of points and we up 3 breaks in this one. Then Ring did what they always do and blows us out in the second half. They play great 1 on 1 defense with their D line and even when their O turns the disc, they play great D. That's the difference between us and them. Our O line has our best throwers but our least athletic players. Our D line can hang with anyone but our O line, though improving on D, is still pretty shady. After taking half 8-6 and scoring the first point to make it 9-6, we found ourselves down 11-9, before making it 11-10 and then losing 14-10. Our D line almost got us the break to get it to 11-11 but we turned it and Ring never looked back. They're good. We are too but I think they're in our heads. My prediction is the first time we beat them, we will never lose to them again...as we will be over the hump.

We had a pretty bitter taste in our mouths, at least it seemed like it, after we finished the weekend with our loss to Ring...probably because we hate losing to Ring and they always demoralize us with their second half comebacks. But it was a very successful weekend all around for us. Next weekend the team is going to Santa Clara to play even better competition that Colorado but I am going to a wedding and cannot make it...it's probably for the best though because as much fun as spending $500 to be a cheerleader is, I think I'd rather save that money and spend it on something that doesn't make me feel like I've been wasting my time.

So after all the feel good stories of the 3 year plan paying off, it turns out that I was just on cloud 9 by myself and I guess I made some shit up because I did literally nothing this weekend. On the 13th points I played, I think I touched the disc a total of 6 times. Most of the time I was just running up the field as we scored quickly or having to play D as someone no where near me turned the disc over. It was pretty upsetting.

I had talked to a friend of mine who recently moved to Charlottesville, Va about how I might not see him for a few months because my weekends are consumed with work and frisbee, but it made me think why I put all this time into something when I can be easily replaced? Actually, there are 5 other people who play my position and only 3 go on at a time, so I wouldn't even need to be replaced...it's a pretty worthless feeling. I'm not going anywhere, as I am determined to see the season out and I love most of my teammates, but I want to contribute this year as opposed to last year when I didn't even play on Sunday at regionals. I want to help my team win rather than watch it happen.

Bourne Supremacy

5 days in New York meant 2 movies got watched: The Bourne Supremacy and Super Bad.

Today, we'll discuss Bourne.

After watching the movie, I was not sad...usually I get sad after watching series that I love end. No, sad I was not. Depressed is more like it. But no suicidal, but depressed.

I don't want to get into the specifics of the movie all too much because I don't want to ruin it for anyone out there that hasn't seen it. If you haven't seen any of the Bourne movies, stop reading this right now and go see all three back to back. It's an amazing action trilogy that stays creative, "believable" and fresh.

Now onto the latest:

It was my least favorite of the 3 if only because I knew it was the end and maybe because I was forced to sit pretty close to the screen since the theater we were going to see the movie in was sold out. We hoped on the subway down 1 stop and walked another 4 blocks and we got to see it in a theater that only showed 1 movie and the place was huge. Regardless, for the size of the screen, it would have been nice to be back further because of the shaky camera aspect that has been the theme of the fight scenes through out.

The fight scenes were awesome. Jason Bourne is not to trifled with and I don't care if you have an asset, he will become Bourne's bitch. No doubt. Between the suspense built before the fights or other CIA awesomeness or the fights themselves or the post fight casualness, it left me thinking through out the movie how much I'd like to see pre-amnesia Jason Bourne scout out his targets and take them down...essentially being the CIA asset as opposed to escaping and targeting the asset...Just a thought. I walked out wishing I was a better writer because I'd take on that project and never let the series die.

An added bonus of the movie is that it ended approximately 5 blocks from where I was watching it...I thought that was pretty cool on the whole, "sweet" aspect that means nothing to any of you but I like writing.

There were some things I didn't like about the movie. There were a few times where guys appeared to get totally jacked up only to act as if the major blunt force trauma they just experienced had no affect on them whatsoever. That took away a little of the believability factor. Additionally, as an actor, I just absolutely hate the guy who played the CIA agent in charge of Blackbrier (the new Treadstone). He was the dad in "The River Wild" and he is also the guy who boned Carmela Soprano when she and Tony were separated. Generally, I just don't like his "I sort of look like Bob Saget only Bob Saget from Full House would kick my ass I'm such a bitch" look not "Bob Saget who pimps hoes and will fuck you up Bob Saget" which is much cooler.

So I was into this movie. One lady said she was just waiting for it to end and I debated pushing her in front of a taxi but she was too close to the middle of the sidewalk to pull it off, so I had to let it go.

It was a good story with a ton of cool action scenes and the movie ran just under 2 hours. Definitely worth the money spent to see it in a theater and if you have some free time this weekend or are looking for an alternative to going out to the bars, go check out this movie...unless you're up for a comedy and then you should see Super Bad.

In other news, Truck Stop is playing in this weekend Chesapeake Open in Poolesville, Md. If you're in the DC/MD area and want to see what it's all about, click on the hyperlink, get yourself some directions and roll up. We'll be there both Saturday and Sunday and always love any and all support people can throw our way. Just be prepared for some heat because it will be in the 90s and humid all weekend long.

I should write a book

As a former, likely to one day return to, fat kid, I spend a lot of my free zoning out time thinking about random things. I'm very happy to not be the fat kid that growing up everyone thought I was going to be. I used to see the skinny, fast kids with no shirts on (assholes) running around all fast and not fat and be jealous. Once I hit my growth spurt, combined with a high school athletic program that makes kids run 2-4 miles before 2 hour practices 2-3 times a week, I started losing all the fat and turning into a poster child for losing weight without wasting money on Jenny Craig, Weighwatchers or by watching MTV and seeing all of those people who have insane bodies yet no explanation for why it is.

Anyway, I used to fear the freshman 15 but I got that fear out of the way by gaining 10 pounds of it in between high school graduation and freshman year. Then i put on a few more during the first semester. I always knew I was going to put on that weight, but thanks to a steady diet of sleep until 3 pm, go to practice until 6 and then eat dinner and nothing else, I was able to lose all the weight.

General aging and college lifestyle naturally added a few more man pounds but all the exercise helped keep it off for the most part. Then came the biggest challenge to keeping the weight off since Eazy Cheese: College graduation.

Never before had I had extended periods of no exercise. In fact, I was blessed that I would exercise 3-5 times a week just for frisbee in college. Even today I don't get that much in as we did in school.

So right out of college I put on some weight by not really realizing how hard it is to keep it off. That sandwich and chips combined with nothing catches up to you. For a little while I was doing light lifting and using an elliptical machine for about 15 minutes 4 times a week. It really did nothing. Then came the hardest part of all: Office Job.

This is what I should write my book about...though, it'd be shorter than a pop up book because it would come to about 3 pages in total.

I used to see people who graduated before me come back a good neck thicker than when they left school. Reason was obvious, they sat at a desk all day and rarely would run or anything after work. Why run when you haven't been able to drink and watch TV all day, right? So these kids would gain weight and I was unable to avoid it as well.

When my current team originally started in 2005, I had to start from scratch and map out what I called a 3 year plan. I knew that the first year all I was good for was to go for about 3-4 runs a week to get my body used to exercise again. I didn't want to be extremely sore because when I was, I felt like my bones were going to collapse beneath me. So I did this for one season and did not perform well on the field.

Going into season 2 I had taken less than 2 weeks off since the previous one had ended. I had been running and had added lifting to my regime. During the season I stopped lifting but started doing running workouts that included stairs and sprints. I lost a bunch of weight but didn't really get to play that much due to a more talented team. However, I kept reminding myself of the 3 year plan. The hope was that if I kept working I'd be at a point where I felt like I did in college, meaning I was confident enough in my abilities to compete.

So here we are in season 3. I'm where I wanted to be. Right now, on top of 2 weekly practices, I have a stairs workout night and an additional sprint workout night. I am lifting 2-4 days a week as well. I've played more points this season than I did all of last season and I'm helping make an impact as a role player on my team. Add to that I'm on the 13th ranked kickball team in the country (QP Live, biatch).

So basically, I'm happy with the way things have turned out so far.

I want to write this book, rather I say I want to write this book but it will not happen and that's fine with me. I basically wrote I want to write this book because it worked as a title.

I have a few friends who are new to the office world and a few co workers who are in a similar situation to what I worked through. Start a new job, sit at a desk, eat what you like and then all of a sudden you put on the weight. What I'd like to tell them and counsel them on is recognizing what is now different in your life. You don't have the hours of free time spent going to the gym, running around, talking to hoes (which burns more calories than running, fyi...at least for me because I still sweat like a fat kid and have fat kid confidence when it comes to talking to random hoes...Read, sweat a lot)...fatty

So you have to change the way you eat. I know people that skip meals and eat a big lunch and then maybe a big dinner. I've found that the easiest way for me to eat a small lunch, which I think is the most important thing you need to do to keep the weight off, is to eat something small for breakfast. Cereal or a yogurt or something. While I was knocking the weight off, I ate homemade small salads every day with vinaigrette dressings. I usually went overboard at dinner but by that point, I had already gone for a run that day. I found it important to try and do this 4-5 days a week to lose weight/keep it off.

As you get older, your body wants to turn you into tubby bitch and I want to keep that away for as long as humanly possible. It worked for me and I see my friends desiring to keep their own weight down, so here's what worked for me...good luck.

Well there is this and then the frisbee player mentality. I play frisbee with a bunch of people who are constantly saying our team needs to get in shape and work harder. It's true in the frisbee sense of the world...but we have players ranging from age 23-42 on our team who play 7 games in 2 days in 90 degree temps or at 6000 feet and walk away to tell the story. We run for 8 hours, get up and do it again and say we're not in shape. It's ludicrous....yet it's one of the reasons I'm proud of what I do.

I play ultimate frisbee. People at work call me "Boarder Collie" because they claim a dog can do what I do. First of all, I had a dream last night that I kicked a dogs ass, so no f-ing way is a dog doing what I do better than me. bitch.

secondly, to the people who call me out for what I do, I always tell them I will play them in any sport at any time and beat them. my reasoning is that they will never ever ever be able to keep up with me for the length of the game we play. While everyone starts out fresh, I rarely do. Once I warm up, which takes me about 10-15 minutes of constant running, I can run someone around for about an hour. It's how I compete in events where my skills are not as polished as other people.

I like going into random sporting events, like a volleyball game at a family picnic or a pick up basketball game, and establishing myself as one of the better players out there. I use this confidence to help me win these contests and it feels damn good to do that...try it some time.

I was up in NYC for the past 5 days, so I should have more for you in the coming days about the level of depression I currently am suffering through and my chicken cutlet withdrawal.

someone please explain this to me...

as i am not one of those people who should ever have their shirt off in public, i don't comprehend the people who i see running outside, clearly with no shirt in their possessions. today i saw a tall, slender male running with one of those things that goes around your chest, just under your nipples. i can only assume this is some sort of pedometer part and not a manzerre...though i could be mistaken.

after i saw that guy, i saw a smaller, less skinny man wearing the same device, only this probably did give the man a little more support only a toadstool needs...but still.

that makes no sense. he should have had a shirt on, ok. that's what i am trying to say.

anyway, so this guy is not wearing/carrying a shirt. this was down by the lincoln memorial, though that is completely unnecessary information but my editors have word minimums.

nope. not true.

anyway, do people who are more ab gifted than i generally feel that if they are going to go running, they should just leave the shirt at home? isn't that a little odd? i have to assume that a lot of the people out there running with no shirts on live in apartments...i have to assume this otherwise this next part doesn't work and i'm all about coherency...what if you live on the 5th floor? do you take the elevator? just on the way down but not on the way back up? no shirt means lots of sweat everywhere. i wear a shirt and this happens to me all the time. but there have to be too many awkward moments prior to the illusion in your head that tells you you should take your shirt off while running somewheres and once you return to wherever you live, no doubt sweaty as a fat kid who just heard the ice cream truck and had to make one of those Ferris Bueller's Day Off type sprints to make it to the truck in time...which, if it's the fat kid i'm thinking of and the truck is 1 block away, we're talking about a see through shirt once all is said and done. fatty. fatty fat fat fat.

i guess if there were ever a time in my life where it was appropriate to be in public with no shirt on that i would understand better, but i just don't get it.

what really grinds my gears though are the really serious runners who wear no shirt and short shorts. those guys are just crossing a line. it's like if a woman were to go running in a string bikini. put some clothes on dude. you make me want to inject you with prime rib...no homo.

hard god damn work

i've been offended. it happened tonight at the dc club mixer.

it's hard to offend me generally. why? because i understand that with the words that come out of my mouth, i have to let a lot of shit wash off to the side. that being said, i don't stand for certain things. i don't let drunk chicks smack me. it's just not something i put up with. if you know the kind of girl that thinks it's funny to slap a man in the face while hammered, please inform her that i will smack her right the fuck back...not hard, but she will get touched up because those are the rules. never do something to a person that you wouldn't be able to be brought back equally on you...mofuka.

anyway, i open my mouth a lot and that's just what i do. but tonight...tonight, i was called out hard without even doing a g d thing. a lot of times people will say some shit like they were minding their own business and then someone just opened up out of nowhere, but that's not what this was like.

so we're at this party and i'm entertaining this new guy in town and his lady friend (not girlfriend, but a friend who is a lady). turns out she is a popular lady and none of the other ladies want her to leave. however, with her wake up time being 5:15 and the friend who brought her being ready to fall asleep in the middle of the party, it was time to go. i was designated phone and key holder...interesting idea since i had lost all knowledge of this responsibility approx. 10 minutes after keys and phone were in my pocket, but that's not my problem because my wake up time is hopefully when i come out of a coma in 2035.

anyway, so as we're walking away, this chick comes running down the street telling the girl who is walking with me and my friend that she can't leave with us because my friend is engaged and i'm not hot enough to fuck. verbatim.

ouch.

i'm sorry.

what.

what.

what.

what.

um.

so i guess i can understand what it's like to be on the other end of what i bring, but what bitch?

not hot enough to fuck? excuse me bitch... I'M ENGAGED. this is why people who are engaged need rings....well, guys who are engaged need rings. i was offended on a new level, but i felt pretty bad for not being called out for being engaged. truthfully, i thought it was fucked up that a kid who was just walking without bothering anyone or in anyway communicating with the girl who was walking with him and his friend was told he was not hot enough to fuck the girl.

i mean, that's just wrong.

it's not like the girl who called me out was hot. she's 19 years old and not unattractive, but come on. if you're going to call a 6'1, 193 man out for not being hot enough, you might as well be proportionally smaller than he...you fucking unfucked bitch. better yet, next time you get boned, call me and i'll holler at the police because your parents too pity on that shit. ho.

i guess i should be able to take my own medicine, but this is not my style. i don't go offensive for the sake of pure offensiveness. i go offensive because it's funny...which i guess this was, but still. it's only funny if you know who it is you holler at and under what circumstance.


but i guess in retrospect, it was pretty fucking mean...which makes it pretty funny.

i hate losing...and i definitely lost that battle....of course i didn't know there was a war to fight, but shit. let this be a lesson that your A game is completely necessary at all times.

lay off me, I'm sensitive

so that title literally popped in my head and i decided i should just go with the flow and there you have it.

i've started to recover from the middle of my helacious? week. wednesday night we had practice and it was tough. it was over 90 degrees out, the humidity was visible and it was windy. so running was hard and throws were not all that good...BUT we got called out by one of the players on Johnny Bravo, the host team of the Colorado tournament, so we felt like we needed to work our asses off. we ran hard, got on each other to work harder and generally gelled really well for the first time all season. for the first time when we brought it in for a huddle, it felt like a team and not just a group of talent trying to do the bare minimum to be successful. one can only hope this continues.

and onto other topics. i thought it might be fun to periodically try to explain a little about the way i am. for the last few weeks, i keeping remember random things that happened to me in my youth to solve to ever so important question of why i am the way i am. sometimes i think that i try to be loud and funny because i was a fat kid growing up. i figured i wouldn't be fast and therefore never be a star athlete, i figured i'd never get chicks based on looks because if you could tittie fuck yourself, why waste the breath / why would any chick want to see that....unless a really freaky chick. but try being a fat kid and bring home some really hot chick. no way anyone is going to buy the "on personality alone" reason as to why this girl is going to hang out with you...and then everyone in your family is going to know you're some kind of sex deviant or boning some kind of sex deviant...and honestly, boning a sex deviant using a deviancy that is not your deviancy or fetish is just the ultimate form of pathetic. if you're going to be into some freaky shit, you need to be all about it. i'm talking posters on the wall, no shame about it. but being a party to some wild shit without getting anything out of it is just wrong. wrong wrong wrong.

so i guess that's why i try to make the funny. if you can make a chick laugh, you can do pretty much anything to her...legally speaking of course. check out the historic case ralph v. cat's breath.

so today i guess we will start from a young age.

my age was about 5 or 6. it was either thanskgiving or christmas and we were driving back from my grandparent's house who lived about 15 minutes away. for those of you that don't know the Live family structure, there is my older brother (by 6 years) and then two older sisters (by 4 and 2 years). that made me the baby in every sense of the word. i'm not totally sure of this since no one keeps statistics on this issues, but i'm pretty sure i either cried every night from something one of my siblings did to me or ratted my siblings out to my parents every night and then cried due to the retribution, more than any other kid ever.

so we're driving back from my grandparent's house when one of my siblings tells me that my parents are ignoring me because they're not really my parents. not believing them, i ask my parents if this is true...they must have had enough of me by this point in the night because there was no response. then i'm informed, i believe by my brother, that i was left on the doorstep by gypsies. shocked, offended and still not believing this, i ask my parents for confirmation and still get no response. then my sisters work in on me and at that point, it's game over and there is nothing my 6 year old brain can do but almost accept it. they worked most angles like, "why don't you look like the rest of us" and other such topics that blatantly aren't true (i don't think at least?) and with no help from the parents, it's all i can do but accept this new life of mine.

my gypsy parents never did come for me but i did spend quite some time trying to determine if they were messing with me or not. for years after that my siblings would continue to tell me i was left on the doorstep and this was not my real family. it worked pretty damn well i have to say. especially when my siblings friends would see me around campus and play along in the joke as well.

so maybe that is just the start of my problems. my gypsy parents didn't love me enough and now i seek affection from everyone in the world...if someone doesn't give it to me, they symbolize my bastard gypsy parents who just left me.

Full video game mode

that's what i like to call the current state of affairs that i find myself thrust into. it comes down when you are so thoroughly fucked that all you can do is laugh. that's what i'm doing right now. i left work at 12:30 this morning and am now back at 8:15. in the words of a blacked out, 6'5 kid, "bring it". so as i sit here this morning and realize all the exciting things that i won't get to do today, i can take solace in the fact that almost every person i speak to will be thoroughly confused by everything that comes out of my mouth.

why? because video game mode means that almost all social skills go out the window and that whole filter thing that i rarely use to begin with is switched into do not disturb mode. these are usually the situations where people who i can usually tolerate and get along with will get a short, snappy reply when they ask me questions that i consider to be stupid or demeaning to my intelligence...and frankly theirs.

if part of your job was to hold people's hands who have been in their current positions for over a year now, you might feel the same way too. maybe it comes from being in the field i am at the age i am, but i don't think i should ever have to walk someone through their professional life...i'm not a life coach. i have this little dealy here to show the world that i am not in a position to raise you. while i can provide you guidance on a series of issues, usually the next person's opinions the one you want to go with. seriously. if you were to ask me and a bum on the side of a road who has one tooth hanging down by the last nerve in his mouth and the rest of his teeth in his change cup to make more noise in order for it to seem like he is good at collecting money and you should chip in too, he'd probably be the one that would work out best for you in the end.

it's kind of funny. i look at is at there are two perspectives when i make my decisions and two results. there is what i used during the college days of "oh fuck it, what's the worst that could happen" and then there is the "you don't get away with anything so don't try it".

usually when i follow OFI style, things go badly...really, really bad. i'd love to give you an explanation, but right now i'm trying to figure out how i ended up where i am at this current moment. it seriously feels like i never left because there are even fewer people at work right now than when i left earlier this morning. yikes. perhaps this is a good example of that style. here i am careless walking through life comparing being used like a slave to playing video games. i guess this is like rationalize accepting money for performing beastiality acts to feed your meth habit...and there you have it! an example of the oh fuck it style.

following the not getting away with anything approach, you get all the excitement of chocolate and vanilla ice cream in one! aren't you excited kids? you get low scores and ties! you get to wear the same clothes, have the same conversations and make ths same jokes over and over again...but, you get all the excitement of consistancy and all the glorious awards that come with it like "pefect attendance" and "most times had your ass kicked by a 2nd grade bully even though you're 37".

all that and more.

well then. it's time for me to go "back to the grind" to "power through". i just got an email from a person who shares the same title as me saying how proud she is of all of us paralegals who have been working so hard. you know what i need? i need to be told by someone who went to bed an hour before me who has a seriously overinflated opinion of how important she is to tell me she is proud of me and all of the other slaves of the work we're putting in. that's the motivation i need to finally go up to her office and french yes all over her keyboard. my God. how important can one person really think a paralegal is? we could easily be replaced by a paramoron. if fact, you could take any word, any at all, and put para before it and that thing could do my job.

i've always enjoyed laughing at people who try to assert themselves in a desperate grasp at authority. it's kind of fun to see someone so desperate that they would be willing to lick a urinal cake if it meant that they could boss people around. that's not how i roll.

welcome back...

in typical welcome back to the work week fashion, it's 10:01 pm on Monday night and I am at work...and scared. The hallway lights just turned themselves off. This is normal, as at 10 pm they do this to conserve energy. Perhaps I should alert the office manager that the lights in fact go off at 10:01 pm and we are wasting 1 minute of energy every night....though considering the amount of paper we waste, the amount of recyclable materials we don't recycle and the amount of soul that I lose everytime I work through a lunch hour and into bedtime, I think we can all pretty much assume that they don't really care all that much.

But I'm pretty tired. After spending the weekend playing frisbee in the altitude of Boulder, Colorardo and getting back around 11 last night, I think it's safe to say that I didn't so much want to be at work 24 hours later with the prospect of being here until the "french yes" hours of the morning...wee, get it? No one? Not even the Family Guy reference?

Running around in the thin air was a lot of fun. I was looking forward to this weekend as an ultimate (no pun intended) training weekend because I was hoping that once I got back to 5 feet above sea level (from 5600) that I could run a lot long and harder...like steroids but for your lungs. I guess I can try this out tomorrow but in all likelihood, I'll be in this same position at this same time tomorrow as our deadline is tomorrow night at midnight. Can't wait. It's a good thing I have a change of clothes here though, just in case. Then again, I live 20 minutes (if walking) from here. It's not like this city is all that dangerous...at least in this area. People who work here have told me that they have seen prostitutes around this area late at night, so in the unfortunate event that I do walk home, at least there will be a loving character to make me feel loved as I walk ever so briskly past her (one can only hope) as I make my way home.

Here's a general question for you:

If someone told you that your computer system would be down from 6 to 12 pm, would you know if it would be light out or not when the computers started working again?

This is not a trick question. We are not in some place where it is daylight for 36 hours or dark for a similar length of time. Let's assume, say, you're in Washington, D.C. and are told that on Saturday the computers would be down from 6 until 12 pm. Would you assume this was afternoon or morning?

Would you even hesitate in knowing, because you are not absolutely demented, that it meant noon? At all?

Me neither. But the people I work with that make roughly 10 times what I make? not so much. Because of people like this, firm wide emails have to go out to explain the difference. I once got informed of something that easy to comprehend...when I was in kindergarten and I swolled a button and thought I was dead. true story.

but this is getting on and to be honest with you i'm not all that happy with my performance. i just need some sleep and hopefully I can put on a better showing tomorrow.

until then, say hello to my furry friend: