I can't be held responsible for the things I say or write...


Quick update

Well, the others got ahold of this post and the rumor is it didn't get over too well. Not terribly awful, but perhaps unappreciated. To that I say,

QP Live 3

S(ucking) A(ll) Y(our) D(icks) 0

So we backed it all up. SAYD did not score, but they nearly did due to an effing error by this guy doing his best unclutch perform ace act again.

We kicked first to start the game and immediately got our first 3 runners on. I came up next and hit a pop up that dropped between first and the right fielder, but did result in the runner from first being tagged out. We put up all 3 that first inning and that was it...then again, we didn't even make it through our entire lineup for the rest of the game...that's the second straight game. People in the bottom of our lineup really have to start getting on if we want to challenge for the league title. Right now, we're in first, but we play Scoregasm in 2 weeks and we're not going to be nearly as successful against their pitcher as we are against any other pitcher in the league.

It seemed like SAYD's only goal was to score 1 run and that was what they were pissed about when it was all over. At one point they almost scored. There was a runner on 3rd with 2 outs and the kick went rocketed to the 2nd baselady. She bobbled it, but right to the first baseman, who picked it up and pegged the girl running to second for the 3rd out. there was a discussion about whether the run scored from 3rd before the girl was pegged and whether the runner made it safely to first before the girl was pegged. The 1st base ref said no, the other team whined like the ref was wrong and our team said that either way, it's still a force out and the run doesn't count. Had the runner made it to 1st before the out, then I think we all would have agreed the run counted, but this didn't happen and the streak continued.

At 8 pm, when the game was supposed to be over, their pitcher, who is also the head of all refs in the league, said the games goes until 8:10 due to the grace period...the game before us started late...however, i thought our game had still started on time. it seemed like they were really trying for every last chance to get that run in.

didn't happen. the D is too good. I consider myself a good pitcher but I'd give up a ton of runs if the D behind me wasn't spectacular. People were making catches on low line drives, people have fallen over bleachers and people have been run into to make plays on D. It's why we are 4-0 with 36 runs scored and 0 allowed.

It was a fun week of banter back and forth between the other team. I hope they know it was all in good fun. they probably realize that we take the game pretty seriously at this point, but when you are facing one of the top 4 teams in the league, that's what happens. There's been some complaining from their team that we only played the same guys in the field the whole game and people paid money to play in the league, therefore deserve a chance to play in the field during the regular season. To that I say, enough is enough. We'll run our undefeated, unscored upon team the way we like, you can run your 3-1 with 6 runs against team in pink however the fuck you like.


I'm focused, man

Kickball update? Well, it's Thursday, so it's fucking on tonight. Tonight we match up against a team that willingly wears pink. Their pitcher wears a visor, willingly. They wear high pink socks. They declare themselves talented.

I declare them fucking dead.

So far this year we are 3-0 and have given up fewer runs than losses we have. Wait. That was stupid to write. We haven't been scored on. This will be the toughest shut out challenge this season. I'm not prepared to lose the shut out streak that dates back to the finals of the last season. You don't score. You don't win. Teams don't score on my team. It just isn't in the cards for them. We've had two extremely close calls this year. At the end of our second game, the ball trickled into the outfield and our catcher made a sick throw off of a rely throw that only made it to the pitchers mound to peg the guy 1 step before home. Last week the other team try to tag up on us from 3rd base in the first inning with 1 out. Our left fielder gunned it in, I jumped up and threw it straight down as the runner tried to slide under me. He took it off the face. That's what you get when you try to score on my team. Shot in the face like a whore.

Don't try to score on my team. It won't make me happy.

We've been having wars back and forth with the other team via http://www.grapheine.com/bombaytv/index.php?lang=uk. Basically, we've been adding subtitles to random Indian movie clips. We're really good at it. They are not. We're winning the trash talking battle. Theirs are in good spirits about how good they are and how in over our heads we are. Ours claim that their team name (S.A.Y.D.) stands for Sucking All Your Dicks. Others of ours claim that they shit themselves uncontrollably and that their women are filthy whores who shit the bed.

So we're taking this game pretty seriously. I am not trying to give up any runs this game. I'm more trying to beat this team so bad that they abandon their desire to play kickball at all anymore. That would make me happy...well, actually that would make me feel like a jerk.

All due respect to this team, they are the best team we've played this season and that makes me slightly nervous because we have a bunch of new players who think we are amazing because we crushed 3 shitty teams. If we were less experienced, I'd say we might be in for a let down. My level of focus right now is pretty high. Hence, the somewhat sadistic post here. I'm focused on crushing this team and the important thing to remember is not to freak out if any runs cross the board. I've prepared myself mentally that it's just not going to happen.

So onto other matters for a quick moment.

Regionals is this weekend and our region gets 3 bids to nationals. This upsets me. All year, I've prepared that we had to win the region to make nationals and over come our mental inability to beat Ring of Fire from North Carolina. We always play with them for a half and then get smoked in the second half. I think once we beat them the first time, we'll never lose to them again. After talking with the other Mister Slam last night, he said that we need to beat Ring not only for ourselves, but in order to justify the third bid to our region. We are not looked at as a strong region and some would say that giving us a third bid is kind of BS. I see their argument and generally agree with them. Top to bottom, our region is not one of the strongest ones out there and I personally feel, at least in the club season, that size shouldn't have any impact on the number of bids. So, basically, I don't want to hear bitching about a weaker region getting 3 bids. But if we beat Ring, the region gets more respect because Ring has national respect. We don't....yet.

Another reason I don't like it is that I am no longer nervous that we won't make nationals. We are down our best D line player and our best all around player this weekend. I wanted that pressure. I think the team would have played even better with that pressure. I wanted the seed of doubt...because when we qualified for nationals, I wanted to feel like it wasn't a given. It's still not a given at this point, but odds are we'll be there. If we don't, there will be a major uproar..at least locally. Nationally, we'll just look like chumps. But our team will flip the fuck out and we will feel like a bunch of chumps, and no one on the team wants that.


That's mad material thrown down the drain (son)

That's what I keep thinking every time I open my mouth. In fact, that's why I went on my hiatus last year for a pretty long time....just got tired of telling the same stories over and over again...figured the people who read this also heard that, so who pays attention to both, right? But maybe not anymore, as I am a worldwide powerhouse now. It's true. Go to www.thislinklikelydoesntexist.com and you'll find out.

So a funny question was asked on a comment to my last post. It read:

"QP Live, Will these shenanigans end when the doctor comes back to DC?"

To that I have 2 responses:

1. Hey a-hole, you read this enough to know the pseudonyms, so use them. a-hole

2. Naturally. It's just what I do naturally at this point and time. Case in point:

Nationals game, this past Friday night. After last weeks performance, all I really wanted to do was drink at the game...and drink I did. At no point was I not double fisting. At one point, I was handling the rare triple fist. It was glorious. Many asked if this was an expensive night...obviously. But it was bonus day, so I spent a nice portion of it on King Lights. It started out promising, but quickly faded once the old man sitting next to me called me out on double fisting in the top of the second inning. He was laughing at me, so I didn't feel too bad. We moved sections shortly thereafter to sit next to the 45 Philly fans who had come down to support their team during the playoff race. At no point did they quiet down, but they were pretty good spirited. One kid was so hammered that the event staff pulled him out and made him sit in the front row by himself. Due to our close proximity to DC Jail, I started chanting, "Prison Rape, Prison Rape" over and over again....yes, I know but I was double fisting, what do you expect.

What I didn't expect was to see this 5'4 110 pound blond Philly fan stare right at me like I was the devil...she thought I was chanting this at her and was heated. I calmly explained that it was directed at her with the old, "Oh damn. No, not you. Sorry about that." She was amazingly ok with it. I was shocked, but relieved. Anyway, that kid sat there and smoked for a few innings and woke up a bit. It was pretty funny.

So that was pretty much the last thing I remember about the game. At some point, we stumbled out and onto the metro and into the night in Adams Morgan. I bought a beer at the bar, drank a few sips, gave it away and left the bar by jumping over the fence around the outside patio. It was time to go. Two-Pump Charlie tried to get me to come back by chasing me down as I was trying to get into the doctors car, so we ran around the car a few times until I body checked him into traffic, jumped in the car and then we took off. I think he was safe.

Case in point #2:

Sunday afternoon, back at the same bar for Sunday football. Due to practice, I could only make the last 3 quarters of the 4 pm games. That would prove to be plenty of time to do what I do. So we're there, enjoying some tasty high life pitchers and hanging out with some of the people we befriended last week. High Sock Ho was not there. Our new friends are both Cowboy fans and declare that the Cowboys will score at least 30 points on the Bears that night...in Chicago. Naturally, I figure there is no possible chance this will happen and I let him know how confident I am with my assumption with the following:

"I'm so confident that the Cowboys won't score 30 that I'll bet my fiancé's anal virginity on it."

The first reaction to everyone was laughter...then this kid debated the bet, debated further and debated longer and came back with, "I have nothing that can match that."

It's a good thing too, because the Cowboys scored 34 points....that would have hurt. The doctor more than me, but still...good thing he didn't put anything on the line otherwise we'd have a running dialog of my life as a single man.

So I don't think I'll be changing too much now that she is back in town...but I guess that's ultimately up to someone not me to decide.


5 days of pain

It's kickball night...which means I obviously have to write something.

But let's not look towards the future. Let's go back. We can call this, "QP Live's Week in Sports".

Friday night was memorable....because I still feel Friday night. Man, was I intoxicated...on hot dogs. Probably the greatest thing a person can say to a male sports fan is "luxury box". Why? Because it's free food, free drink, free awesome. It rained the entire game and I didn't get hit with a drop of rain the entire time. We made a pretty sweet rule that at no point could your plate not have food on it. This rule last 2 innings before we all looked at each other in pain after the first inning and agreed that the second inning was the longest we could play this game. Don't fret fans, we put on a good display.

By the way, it turns out I can't in fact eat 15 hot dogs in one sitting. I can, however, eat 7 in two innings. All of us took the "it's a sprint, not a marathon" approach to this game. No one wasn't miserable. I was so full that I wasn't even able to get buzzed. I had 2 beers with all the food I enhailed. I tried to drink a third when I realized that I was not actually going to overcome my extreme feeling of full without booting. So, naturally, I tried to toughen it out. I've never booted from food before and I'm not about to do it now. So I took the usual approach of trying to burp it out, drink some water, take deep breaths. After inning 3, no improvement. After inning 4, I felt the same...but surely this was a good sign because that means I'm not getting any worse. Inning 5 was the one that changed all of this. I declare that I am going to the bathroom and stumble as if I've had 14 shots and am about to boot. I get out of the luxury box in 5 steps. this is significant because my mouth was full with saliva. So I spit it out and 5 steps later, full again. Repeat this every 5 steps to the bathroom, roughly 40 steps away, and I am closing the door to the stall behind me. Roughly 30 seconds into this I realize that in order to live I need to A) boot and B) swear to myself I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever do this to myself again (note: as a punishment, I just typed each ever individually - I'm a sick bastard). So I can feel it coming out, lean over the toilet, get ready, here it comes and....nothing. Just a dry heave...a very painful one though. Then another one is coming and surely this will be it! Nope. Nothing. I do this for about another 10 minutes and all I got out was a little liquid. I even was doing some calisthenics in the bathroom to force it out and nothing was doing. I'm so glad no one else came in during this time, though I could have used a friend to punch me in the stomach...not that they didn't offer in the luxury box, but I'm not trying to destroy to box.

So I stumble back to the box, sweaty, and enter. I got looks for 10 people who all know what's been going on and I declare I feel no better and couldn't boot. Then I decide I will stand up and see if this helps. I go through cycles of 1 minute of pain, 15 seconds of burping, 15 seconds of feeling decent, 1 minute of pain, repeat. this goes on for 2 more innings. Entering the bottom of the 8th inning I get a good burp in followed by an audible, "Oh my God, I FEEL FINE!". Roughly 2 hours and 6 innings later, I'm alive.

A lot of comments were made, most about how miserable I was going to feel on Saturday and such, but I woke up and felt fine....a true miracle.

Saturday and Sunday were sectionals for ultimate. We played some lower level club teams, a college team and then a few decent club teams. We were not challenged at any point, though, credit goes to HOV for getting two breaks to start the finals. We ended up taking half 8-6 and the game 15-6. But props to them for playing strong D most of the game.

Sunday afternoon we went to Adams Mill to watch the games. This was one of the best Sundays ever. We got hammered, we made friends with a few people at the bar and we also made enemies. I girl yelled at us to stop making some annoying sound that had been going on for a while. Yeah, great idea slut. Tell the drunk annoying kids to stop doing something...see where that gets ya? So, obviously, we start doing it more and more, to the point where we do it in a circle a few times. She keeps telling us to shut the fuck up, so I start the whole, "Pull your socks down. CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP". She was wearing short shorts and high socks. Easy target. It was funny to us, but apparently her boyfriend was not too happy with this guy. Props again to Chaz for controlling the environment and not letting him find out that when you mess with QP Live, you mess with me too...

he was bigger than me. he would have won by a landslide...mostly due to size, but let's not take away that I could barely walk or see at the time.

to add though, and I don't want to sound like an asshole or anything, but a chick doesn't have the right in a shitty dive bar of people watching the NFL to tell us to stop doing something, regardless of how irritating. In fact, she doesn't have the right to not be stroking her boyfriend while she's there. I should kick his ass for letting her not be the fucking slutbag that she is....oh well, there's always next Sunday, since they go every week, just like our crew.

Monday was MNF, meaning night 2 of getting drunk and eating wings. A fun game it was, but no motorboats to report. Nothing too exciting either, other than a good NFC East game and a win for the home team.

Tuesday was softball night. Our game started late and then was suspended due to darkness. the only highlight of this was the walk from the fields to the bar. Along the way, we had to wait for the light at 17th and Constitution Ave. There was a big yellow school bus with some kids in it waiting at the right turn arrow. These were probably kids in either 7th, 8th or 9th grade...meaning their obnoxious/just my type/exactly what my game is suited for. So these girls were making faces and yelling random junk at these tourists who were waiting on the corner as well. I had enough of it as the bus started turning, so I took 2 steps into the road and smacked the window that these girls were hanging out of. I thought it was appropriate and this was justified when my teammates started laughing and the tourists gave me a thank you thumbs up and a laugh. The girls screamed and then a few feet further down the road yelled something like "we're not scared of you". I wanted to run down the bus and hang onto the window as it drove, but I also want to swim like a dolphin and that's not happening either.

Wednesday was ultimate practice. please note, do not layout on concrete. it hurts. we play on a "grass" field on Wednesdays that haven't been rained on since hell was formed. they are rock solid, but I was feeling it last night and decided that I would dive for this one disc I was running down. I caught it...but landed on my fingers, bruising them, cut up my right shoulder, left hip and left elbow. sweet. totally worth it.

so tonight is kickball. I was told by a teammate of mine that I should give up the goal of shutting out every team.

to that I say, no. I'm QP Live and you're me. we shut bitches out. but how do you look at a kid like this and not take his advice seriously. i mean, would you doubt a person with, well you see that thing. impressive.


Surely this makes no sense

I'm in a good mood today, but don't let the doctor know that. CRAP. She reads this. She found out. I was talking to her about how I was happy to be going home tonight. For those that don't know, I've been dog sitting at the B.G.M. for the last 8 days and nights. It's cool because it's a really nice house, the dogs (2 cocker spaniels) are more or less fun, the owners are really relaxed and I get paid to do it. It's not fun sometimes because they don't really focus on TV and while they have 2, neither of them is up to my standards...basically because the remotes don't work. So while I haven't been working that much in the last week, I was never really able to relax...or even chillax. The few times that I did go out, I always remembered that the dogs were in their puppy prisons and I felt bad about that, so I always felt the urge to go back and let them out.

But tonight I get to go home, which is sweet. I was talking to el doctor about the dogs and me being happy to go home and she was all "you're in a bad mood" and I was all "no I'm not". It's a pretty serious fight for us, since we get along pretty well. Once again, still have no idea how or why that is, but I'm not trying to pick fights because I never seem to win them. Anyone who has ever been a relationship longer than 3 months can feel me on that one I bet...why 3 months? Because I just made up the theory that if you fight before 3 months, you just split up instead because it's a hell of a lot easier at that point and why not go meet some new girl you can fight with in 90 days...after all, not only is it important in life to date more than a few women, it's also important to get in a variety of arguments with more than a few women so you can solidify your "fuck you bitch, that's why" argument....why? because make up bonin' is all its chalked up to be and more.

why? let's not look at it from the angle of you're in a fight, then you make up and then you show your love by sweating all over each other...unless you're an eskimo or minute man...no sweat then. anyway. let's look at it from this perspective. when you see a really good action movie, for example, any of the Bourne movies, you go through a range of emotions. You have the initial keen interest in the subject, you have the sympathy for bourne trying to become a new person, empathy because of the situation his life is in, hatred for the guy fucking with bourne and in the end joy for having him beat the ever loving piss out of 90 people at once, while destroying a city and walking away all at the same time...that feels pretty damn good if you ask me.

make up sex brings together all of those emotions. only instead of having all of these feelings towards a movie, you have all of these feelings towards the one in which you bone...or so I'm told. we're catholic, so I'll tell you after our first fight post wedding...(PLEASE NOTE: This last line was only put in so the doctor can't yell at me about what I write. QP Live is fearless, except for his woman yelling at him. Then QP Live is a turtle.)....

anyway, so I've been told that all of these emotions come together...only you replace the movie with your siggy and while enjoying the company of said siggy, you think back about your fight. the gentle loving side for making up but then you remember how pissed you were so anger, followed by the I'm glad me made up followed by anger and repeat. and it's nice when the feeling is reciprocated because you're on the same page. it's love people...wait, no, it's just moronic ramblings of a guy who showed up hungover to work on fucking monday.

off to Monday Night Football we go....


wrapping up...

What an odd week...what an odd week indeed.

Generally, things were pretty much normal. So why an odd week? I don't really know. I do know that last night I was very afraid. At the bar after kickball (8-0 win) I was buying a drink for a player on the team we played against (and beat 8-0, don't know if you saw that...we're good). So we're doing that awkward standing next to each other with little to nothing to say to each other when a really awkward looking player from his team comes over. She's pretty short and isn't the most physically gifted person I've ever seen. She asks will I order her a beer. I'm feeling good after our win and the friendliness of their team, so I'm like sure. Then she asks again if I'll buy her a beer. I know I've already said sure, but I guess she doesn't hear me. So I put the order in for 3 beers when she says, "if I flash you, will you order me a beer" to which I respond with "No."

I was not happy. I've never once been asked by a lady if she can flash me for anything. I'm pretty sure that under most circumstances if a girl is like "can I flash you in exchange for...." i would say yes. My standards are not high. Here's a picture of the last person I hooked up with before the doctor. I'm serious when I say that if the option was a swift kick in the junk I'd OK it to see some decent other woman goodness. But this just wasn't happening. I wasn't going for it and I was afraid. I paid for the beer and tried to get away when she went for the kiss on the cheek. I received that and hopped away pretty damn fast. I was not getting caught there and losing my life becoming some awkward kickball girls prisoner because I'd probably end up seeing everything that a parent promises to protect their child from seeing. And away and far away I got to the other side of the bar.

So that was odd.

Kickball was fun though. We won 8-0. They almost scored though, which I would have been pissed about. We have a new catcher, who I think just loves hitting people with the ball at the last possible second before they cross the plate. In our only loss last year, he got me at home about a step before I touched home. In this situation, we pegged a guy at second and the ball rolled into the outfield. The runner tried to score from first. I had run into the outfield and threw it as far back in as I could and it only made it to the pitchers mound. Not to worry. Our catcher picks up the ball, takes a step or two and nails this kid at home. Game over. Shut out preserved. QP Live not going to break anything. Very happy.

I'm not saying that if a team scores on me that I'm going to cry like a bitch...it's just that if a shitty team scores on us, I'm going to be really pissed. First off, it's a runs against league, meaning tie breakers are settled by the number of runs you allow. My goal for this year is 0 runs allowed. Our defense is pretty rediculous, so I think it's pretty possible to make it happen. Even when we get up big and sub in players who are just playing for the first time, they do pretty good.

Tonight I have box seats to the Nationals vs. Braves game. I've been to 1 game all year and stayed for 5 innings. Tonight will be much different. Free beer. Free food. Free parking. So I'm not really going to drink that much, especially with sectionals starting tomorrow, but it's still going to be awesome. Sectionals should be a cake walk, which means I should get to play some more than the last time...so I guess I should drink more....I wonder if the Nationals will mind if I leave my car overnight in their lot? I bet it will still be there in the morning. I doubt they would car...afterall, at this point, they should just be happy they get people out to the game.



getting drunk on a monday is not a good idea. it just doesn't play well for the rest of your week. worse than this, though, is getting drunk on sunday.

It's Monday Night Football time again and that means 10 cent wings, $3 drafts (of any kind) and because the waitress likes abuse, of the 15-20 shots we had last night, we were charged for 2. it was awesome. It was nice to see the regular monday night crowd again because it's usually the same people every year and this is the time that i will see these people the most consistently. some were missing or left early and it turns out it was because they all spent 8-10 hours drinking on sunday.

you see, it's Sunday afternoon football again and that means for the first weekend, everyone is getting drunk, eating wings, mercing liquid...well everyone except for me. i have practice on sundays from 1-5. that's probably the worst thing since this new "ass to mouth" phenomena that is sweeping the nation. not sure what it is? what are you fucking retarded? what's it sound like.

so back to MNF. we're going to sign of the whale right now in DC. My man Jerome Tomlinson, aka Quintin Sanders affectionately refers to the area in DC where the whale is as "Midtown" but he's pretty much the only person to seriously refer to that area as such. he'll argue with you and say plenty of other people call it that and you're being ridiculous, but he is the one who in fact is being ridiculous. if asked, i might call it south dupont, or so dupe, or, since dupont is land of the male on male ass to mouth, so gay. in fact, i think we should start referring to the area from 19th and Connecticut between M and N should be referred to as so gay from now on. because i'm in the business of making things up and trying to get them to stick...well, usually i take something from someone no one else knows and then try to spread it to an entirely new community. that's what happened with merc....gash....etc.

anyway, MNF was a great time this past week. the games were pretty exciting, but the bartender stole the show. what...a...bitch. seriously, she was a bitch. and i was in bitch slapping mode. i roll up and immediately annoy her with my A game banter. she tried to deny it, but is there any denying me when i seriously won't shut the fuck up no matter how hard anyone tries to make me stop, including myself? it was one of those nights.

it was also time to get jack really drunk. the ravens were playing and those are his boys. he needed some extra support, so i roll up and immediately order the two of us a shot of jack. end of the first quarter, another shot of jack. then we switch to jaeger for a few and that's when all words got slurry...a few minutes later, or so i thought, the bar is emptying out and the game is winding down. i have no idea how it came up, but the waitress said something and then i dropped the, "and then i'd be all whwhwhwhwhwhwhwhhwh" which translates into me motorboating from across the table (no contact of course).

the look on her face and the face of my 5 friends at the table was absolute shock. she was slightly pissed. i was on my A game and not phased. she comes back a few minutes later with a shot of clear tequilla and says, "this is for you. this has been sitting on the bar for an hour and you only get this lime if you beg for it". A game people. fuck this ho. so i casually look at her, the shot and then eye the salt. i proceed to lick the back of my hand, pour some salt their, take the shot, snort the salt and give her the middle finger (i think i made up the middle finger part, but it makes for a good read, no?). in no way shape or form did i need that lime. not phased by the shot. not phased by the salt. bring it slut.

i believe the the 5 friends looked on impressed. the slut of the waitress was impressed and then actually knew that this comes from Caddyshack. I wonder how many of you remember Ty Webb doing the same thing?

So in the end, we parted on good terms. I actually really liked her as a waitress. I asked for water and she laughed at me and eventually brought it. She constantly gave us attitude, but also provided pretty good service. The Whale in so gay is definitely a great place for MNF.

So in the end, after over 100 wings ordered, roughly 50 beers ordered and all those shots, the tab came out to $191. Not too bad.

I then had to ride my bike back to where I am dog sitting for the week (which was entirely up hill). I don't so much remember the pain of the uphills, so I was pretty happy about that. I do remember being terrified I'd be hungover in the morning. In an effort to prevent, which I successfully did, i ate a turkey sandwich, drank a glass of orange juice, pounded some water, took 2 motrin and took a shower. I was once told that orange juice the night before will help prevent hangovers and so far I am 1 for 1. I recommend this to you.

and i think you should come to so gay next monday. It's eagles vs. redskins which will be the best game of the year to be at in DC. It's going to be an amazing night. No time is better to be in DC than when the skins are winning or in the beginning of a season when optimism is high....which it is right now.

and i think the Caveman TV show will not be good. more on that later.


Someone please translate this


Someone please translate this blog for me.

Shockingly, work has been pretty slow for the last 2 hours. There is a big hearing going on, which is what has kept me busy all week, and now that everyone is there and my side projects are done, I've had the chance to click on the "Next Blog" link at the top of some of the blogspot blogs.

I've never really found any other good blogs, but I have found a lot of people writing about their children/family. I always see ones like this. Today I found the blog linked above. It's all in German I think - WILLIS!!!!! - and it appears to be all about Prison Break, which we can all agree is probably the best show since John From Cincinnati.

In all seriousness, I've seen every Prison Break episode and I love the show....well, at first I just wanted to see where it was going, then I loved it and now I'm still really into the show, but Scofield went back to prison at the end of the season, so I guess we're starting from scratch, but only this time he has to escape from a prison in Panama....DRAMA!

Anyway, I guess this blog is nothing more than a recap, but I've never met a person who seemingly has more in common with me than anyone else I've ever met in my life...especially when I've never met this person but I think he's my best friend. Wow, that's gonna cause some drama at the wedding, not to mention the language barrier is going to be tough to explain how we became best buds to everyone.

In completely boring and unrelated news, I got a new computer at work today. It's got a 20 inch flat screen, wide screen monitor that I can raise higher/lower and tilt left right up and down.

told you that was boring.

the kickball team won something like 16-0 last night. We're good. I didn't throw a ball, as in ball/strike, until the 3rd inning and I was not too pleased about it. They didn't get a base runner until the 4th, due to an error or two and then they didn't get a hit until the 5th (and last) inning. I really wanted that no hitter (kicker?) and it was kind of funny because it was a girl who got the hit. Not funny because it was a girl who got a hit, but funny because she hit it a hell of a lot harder than any of the guys on their team, except for one kid who drilled it pretty far, but it was foul. These kids showed up ready to play some playground kickball and we were in the field first. As soon as I threw my first overhand pitch the first batter and it skidded across the plate for strike one, most of their team went pretty silent for a second or two...or at least that's what I'm telling you happened. Truth be told, I have little to no idea. I just know that the first pitch felt really good and everyone in the field immediately got behind me and we were pumped up. We scored 7 or 8 runs in the first inning alone.

My monitor is as high up as it goes. That's all.


some one please translate that page for me. it's your duty as a reader to help the other readers out. If you translate it, you'll get a QP Live hat and arm band combination. Just send you address to qplive@gmail.com. Delivery usually takes 4-7 years.


Today we defend our crown

sort of.

QP Live and Me: The Kickball Experience (sponsored by Faygo, naturally) starts again tonight. Take where I was before the last kickball season and compare it with where I am now in terms of excitement and you have a fat kid who was lost in the woods, find a shady looking shack and goes inside to find behind a door, a room filled with macaroni and cheese. That fat kid, along with eating all of it and getting even fatter, would also shit his pants - with excitement that is. So I'm pretty excited and my team is too. We sent about 100 emails today, mainly trying to convince two people to be the team fluffers (one guy, one girl).

So that's where my boost mobile is. I don't have much else...perhaps a post game recap or something.


It turns out weddings are fun....

A game. That's what was brought this labor day weekend. The A game of everyone involved in the debauchery that was this past weekend in Pittsburgh (PA) for Andy and Lauren Wurtzel's wedding. The wedding was Sunday evening and everyone arrived on Saturday afternoon...naturally, the theme of the weekend was alcohol....and it was amazing.

Saturday there was a rehearsal dinner for 150 people that started at 6 or 7...I'm not really sure because the first drink that I had at the dinner I had to put down because I was already too drunk. While in this state, Chaz and I decided to play a game called "I'm going to try and go all weekend without talking to the bride". The only rule is you don't talk to the bride. I won. I made it about 2 hours. Since there are no rules, I used Chaz's man bitch, John, to get Lauren to come up to their table and say hello. However, this took a little longer than I had expected, so there were some close calls. First of which was as I was coming back from the buffet table and the bride was at my seat talking to the doctor. I decided I might have to bite the bullet here, but as fate would have it, she walked away immediately as I approached...as if she was rooting for me. She came back a few minutes to keep talking to the doctor, so I jumped up and walked away. I went over to Chaz to brag about my skills when she arrives at his table. I deftly walk away and John sets up Chaz and victory is mine.

Due to the amazing joy this game gave us, we then made a new game of who could talk to the bride the fewest. He won 5-3 as my alcohol intake got the best of me on Sunday night at the ceremony and I put in some serious face time. I really enjoyed seeing her and ending every encounter with, "Please, for me, go give Chaz a hug and say hi." She kept asking why and there really is no response that is appropriate, so I just smiled. 2 of my encounters with the bride happened with Chaz right next to me, so she would speak to both of us and as she said hello, we'd say what number encounter it was. She would look at us confused and we would look at each other like we were bad people.

So this wedding was awesome. After the rehearsal dinner we found a bar near our hotel that had $1 pitchers until midnight and always served $1 Yuenglings. Shit show it was. Everyone got hammered off of this. The next morning we all woke up like, "I think I got too drunk last night. Let's go to brunch and get drink some more." So people went their various was and I went out to accomplish the one goal I set for myself: To find the famed "Rothlesburger". What is a "Rothlesburger"? Not the Steelers quarterback but in fact a 1/3 pound hamburger with Ranch dressing, BBQ sauce, bacon, chedder cheese and provolone cheese. A "Big Ben" has an extra 1/3 pound burger. Amazing.

A few things to say about Pittsburgh (PA) before this goes any further:

1. There is nothing to do in this city
2. The people are very friendly
3. All of the bridges are yellow
4. There is nothing to do in this city

So at brunch (which I passed on in hopes of a Rothlesburger - note I gave in and got a Yinnzy, which is a steak and cheese Pittsburgh (PA) style) we asked the server where I could find a Rothlesburger. She had never heard of it and it turned out that the 10 people we asked throughout the day really didn't know anything about it either. And it turns out that people don't seem to like Big Ben all that much either...oh well.

We were told we should try this deli in the "Strip District". NOTE: This was not named as such because it has strip clubs. In fact, it looked like it had been stripped of any reason anyone would ever want to go to that area. So after some extremely reckless but amazingly fun driving, we actually found the place. However, since Pittsburgh (PA) is as such as it is (READ: Sucks a crackheads crack dick) it was closed. However, we did get a picture, which I can share with you.

Sorry about the quality as I only have a camera phone. There was also 1 ray of sun that got in the photo, thus the line at the top of the photo.

But since we had found our sandwich and saw it was unattainable, we set out on mission 2: get a yuengling.

We achieved that goal immediately. Then we went looking for the 2 stadiums pittsburgh (PA) has to offer. At this point, I should let you know that my car had myself, Jeff Dritz, Chaz, John and Andrew in it. It was an all around quality car. As we looked for the stadiums, literally by weaving through this excuse for a city, we would see the various bridges the city has to offer, which is a whole bunch. Each time we would see one, John would say "that bridge is yellow". He said it about 100 times, funnier each time.

So after 30 seconds, we knew how to find the stadiums and drive to and around them we did. Then we decided it was time to go back to the hotel. However, as the driver, I decided we didn't need directions, we could figure it out on our own since the city is pretty small - it makes DC look like Alaska.

So as we drove, I just kind of turned when I wanted to. This got us to a place we knew was on our way, but wasn't necessarily meant for us to be driving in...for 2 reasons:

1. We were later told this hilly ghetto area we drove through was the worst ghetto in Pittsburgh (PA). We drove through most of this until a quick decision to get the hell out of there was made and off we went.

2. We found ourselves in an area we thought would get us back to the hotel...but there was a no left turn sign...but there was a lane we could drive in. So we obviously made the left, only to later find out that this lane was only for buses. After 2 miles of driving in this lane and fortunately not seeing any cops or buses, we find ourselves 3 blocks from the hotel and home safe.

It was the most fun I've had in a long time. Lots of joking around, lots of driving like it was a video game and lots of all around fun.

So we relaxed for 30 minutes, then went to the bar for 2 rounds and then got ready for the wedding. We spent the time at the ceremony before it started trying to determine if we were on the groom's side or bride's side. Half of the DC contingent went right and the other left. Left was groom side and that's where the luck would have it we were.

Ceremony started. Ceremony ended. Bar opened.

So we started drinking. Saphires and tonic for me. As more were consumed, I went to the bar pretty drunk with Shelly, Thomas Shields' future pregnant live in girlfriend. We decided the blue bottle probably was something we should drink out of and so we asked the bartender to make us something with it. It was Hypnotic, so we drank Hypnotic martinis. They were gross, just check it out. mmmmmm. TASTY.

So we were hammered, but pretty well behaved. We drank until about 1 and then it was time to got back to the hotel and the school bus that was used to shuttle everyone. We were the last group, but the bus was packed and the bridge was on the bus. Naturally, it was time to start singing school bus songs. The one with the most staying power was, "The bride is on the bus. the bride is on the bus. Hi Ho the dairy-O the bride is on the bus". The bus ride was about 10-15 minutes and we chanted this for about 10 of those 15 minutes. The other 5 were Steve McDermott yelling "PITTSBURGH" and everyone else yelling "PA". Hence Pittsburgh (PA)...as if you couldn't put that together at this point.

I was in the back of the bus and sat on the top of the seat the entire time, with an arm out of the window banging on the top of the bus as hard as possible with the cadence of the songs we were singing. Then, once we arrived, it was time to make the quick escape out of the emergency exit of the bus...good times.

The hotel bar was closed, so we decided to just hang around the hotel. It was close to 2 am and we were all hammered. There was some old school hanging out going on. I didn't want to partake, but I took one for the team and toweled the door.... Sorry for the lack of clarity but the picture is dark for reasons unknown. But if it's not clear, that's me being the human towel for the door.

The other zany thing that happened was when Chris Bach made me bleed my own blood. So we were hammered and there is a weight room right outside the elevators on our floor. So while waiting for the elevator, I ran into the gym, ripped my shirt off and started lifting light dumbbell weights really intensely as the doctor and bach watched through the huge glass windows. As the elevator arrived, I ran out to the door and tried to get my shirt back on. Bach took this opportunity and smacked me harder than anyone has every smacked me before right on my rib cage. I went numb with pain and didn't even debate revenge due to the shock of the impact. Here's the immediately after photo:

It hurt at the time but not this morning at all. I chose this photo because you can see that his hand hit me and slid along my skin for a little bit. It's a huge hand print. This morning we got another look at it:

I like this one for 2 reasons:

1. You can see the skin folds on the palm of his hand.

2. You can see hair on my nipple. Go ahead, take another look. That's that sexy nipple hair the ladies are always raving about. tell your friends boys and girls. QP Live is all about the nipple hair...even got some on the other one. Don't believe me, break into my apartment when I'm asleep and check it out.

So that was our weekend. It was great. Now, time for some awards:

1. Not so much an award, but a new title. Lauren Balog is now officially a saint. Saint Balog is how she is now referred to as. When you see this girl, please address her as such. Why a Saint? This girl, aside from living with me and brody for 2+ years drove from DC to Pittsburgh (PA) with Chaz, John and Andrew. Then she shared a room with them...then she went to $1 pitcher night and put up with all of the abuse that comes from hanging out with drunk assholes on $1 pitcher night. Saint Balog. Recognize bitches.

2. MOP - Most Outstanding Performance has to got to Chaz. Between shacking me at 2:45 on Sunday morning trying to wake me up instead of letting me pass out, playing the avoiding the bride game, sprinting out onto the dance floor for the horah dance with a chair to raise the bride on and all around positive supporter, Chaz gets my MOP.

3. Best open hand slap: Chris Bach. Phenomenal job Chris.

4. Best dressed (of those not in the wedding party) - yeah, like I'm gonna put this down here. You see me in the picture above. No, not the one with Saint Balog. the one with nipple hair. Clearly, anyone with that going for them is default the best dressed, even if the outfit is made of used floss.

So this is the end of my novel. I hope you enjoyed it. Get yourself to a wedding...turns out they are fun, even in pittsburgh (PA)