Howdy....crap...that sounded lame.
Hi my name is....not Slim Shady so let's not start there.
Ummmm....
Screw it I'm just going to start. I haven't blogged in years. Even when I was blogging I wasn't blogging. I know that doesn't make sense, but it will. I suck at sticking with something. I'm a procrastinator of the worst kind. I put things off, I wait, I pretend like everything is ok, then before you know it like 7 years have passed and I haven't pursued your dream at all.
So, hence the title. The reset.
Not that blogging is my dream, but writing in general has always been something I enjoyed. Something I always wanted to do for myself. I have a few things that I am passionate about, but I have even more things that I used to be passionate about. I kind if lost that piece of myself as I moved away from writing. "Life move pretty fast" and all that. So, I have a very strong desire to attempt to recapture this. Even if it is only for myself.
I have a couple of friends who inspire me as well. (Looking at you NoDakTwinsFan) I would love to bring some level of entertainment and escapism to any readers who stumble across this. I'm sure I'll also venture into subjects where I try to educate or explain a position. I will be wrong on some points, make no mistake about that, but I'll always try to be willing to admit that.
I've always been a stream of consciousness writer. I can't imagine that this blog will be any different. So be prepared for that.
So here we go. The Reset. Now I just need to come up with the new title....but being the procrastinator that I am....that can wait for tomorrow.
Thursday, October 25, 2018
SVP and Tyler Trent be like Those Guys
SVP often talks about his emotions. He often talks about how he is an emotional guy. He wears it, he owns it. I respect the heck out of the guy. Great interview and Powerful.
@theTylerTrent - what an impressive guy. His strength gives strength and his bravery inspires. Pray for Tyler. He feels it and it gives strength.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
What is a snapchat???
Now this is going to date me (as if using that phrase doesn't).
So, it happened. I have become that guy. The worst part about being that guy is you don't even know you are that guy....or perhaps that is the best part. Ignorance in this case really may have been bliss.
I was happy once. I thought I knew things. I play video games. I have the newest phone. I bought a new laptop. I have a tablet. I knew things. Then one night of excitement shattered my world of glass into a thousand pieces. It was admittedly a small world...only a thousand pieces, but it was mine. And I thought I knew things.
Forget "that night". Let's back up even further. Years ago I realized I wasn't aging well. I pulled my hamstring....lots of times....in a single summer...pulled it so bad it bruised my entire leg....it was not pretty even though I was secretly proud of it!!! But I was aging. Not just in body but in mind.
It was already happening I'm sure long before I realized it. I was turning into my dad. I didn't mean for that to sound like an insult. He's a great guy whom I along with everyone really truly loves and respects. I only mean to say that I was already considering new music to be terrible and too loud.
And that's a bad feeling the first time...when you hear about some hiphop artist that did something stupid on MTV and you have no idea who that person is or exactly what they did (what is twerking??) It's a bad feeling...the first time. Now it has become an everyday occurrence. Who these people are and why they are famous I will never understand (what is a kardashian anyway?)
Anywho, you get the gist of who I have become. And with that realization I aged in my mind. And I was ok with where I was. I'm too old for hiphop...I'm ok with that.
Then "that night" happened. There I was with my girlfriend. Watching a hockey game. Happy. Then it happened. A girl right in front of me took a picture of herself. Then a minute later took another....then another from a slightly different angle...then another from above....then another with a friend...then another with a weird ducklike face....then another...then with a hat on. I was confused.
To my girlfriend I could only utter single words or parts of words "Wah?" "Why?" "Huh?" "The hell?"
She just uttered a single word, "Snapchat."
Like THAT answered my question. I have so many more questions now. "What in theee hell is a Snapchat?"
So, it happened. I have become that guy. The worst part about being that guy is you don't even know you are that guy....or perhaps that is the best part. Ignorance in this case really may have been bliss.
I was happy once. I thought I knew things. I play video games. I have the newest phone. I bought a new laptop. I have a tablet. I knew things. Then one night of excitement shattered my world of glass into a thousand pieces. It was admittedly a small world...only a thousand pieces, but it was mine. And I thought I knew things.
Forget "that night". Let's back up even further. Years ago I realized I wasn't aging well. I pulled my hamstring....lots of times....in a single summer...pulled it so bad it bruised my entire leg....it was not pretty even though I was secretly proud of it!!! But I was aging. Not just in body but in mind.
It was already happening I'm sure long before I realized it. I was turning into my dad. I didn't mean for that to sound like an insult. He's a great guy whom I along with everyone really truly loves and respects. I only mean to say that I was already considering new music to be terrible and too loud.
And that's a bad feeling the first time...when you hear about some hiphop artist that did something stupid on MTV and you have no idea who that person is or exactly what they did (what is twerking??) It's a bad feeling...the first time. Now it has become an everyday occurrence. Who these people are and why they are famous I will never understand (what is a kardashian anyway?)
Anywho, you get the gist of who I have become. And with that realization I aged in my mind. And I was ok with where I was. I'm too old for hiphop...I'm ok with that.
Then "that night" happened. There I was with my girlfriend. Watching a hockey game. Happy. Then it happened. A girl right in front of me took a picture of herself. Then a minute later took another....then another from a slightly different angle...then another from above....then another with a friend...then another with a weird ducklike face....then another...then with a hat on. I was confused.
To my girlfriend I could only utter single words or parts of words "Wah?" "Why?" "Huh?" "The hell?"
She just uttered a single word, "Snapchat."
Like THAT answered my question. I have so many more questions now. "What in theee hell is a Snapchat?"
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
The Mooch!!!
Smirnoff. Who on God's green earth would drink a Smirnoff? I mean it is literally so sweet that it can cause a gut to rot in three sips. Who's mind developed this diabolical drink....and moreover where can I find them and force feed them their own evil concoction (over/under on how many they can actually drink is four....place your bets now!!)
Now....I realize that to women this is like the sweet nectar and ambrosia only reserved for the greek gods...but no man would ever dream of touching the stuff....right????
A girl leaves it in my fridge because it is too sweet for even her. Fast forward 24 hours....after a long day of work said girl now wants a little drinkie-poo because her day sucked. "Well come on over! You still have your Smirnoff in my fridge.....or does she????
Now, the mystery begins. You try to think back through the fog that was your night and figure out what could have happened. Well.... Smirnoff tastes like genuine and pure evil in a bottle so you wouldn't drink it even if that "Saw" guy told you to in his creepy ass voice. And she left it in the fridge...you definitely remember watching her walk away *wink*, and everyone else at the party had their own beer....except...no....he wouldn't have....THE MOOCH!!!
"The Mooch" is most definitely that guy. Nobody really invited him. How did he find out about this party? Somehow he figured out where and when the party was through divination or some other black art, but he didn't quite find out that it was BYOB....how convenient. Except nobody is willing to give him anything to drink...cuz he's "The Mooch", and we all guard our cases like a pit bull guards his food dish. Inadvertent bites may happen but its worth it to teach "The Mooch" a lesson. But he is a sneaky little minx and finds a stash of drinks in a fridge in a room away from the party....jackpot. He quickly pilfers these libations and returns to the party a little tipsy and feeling good. And nobody is the wiser....until the next night....and Smirnoff is missing....and there is an angry girl....but "The Mooch" has again vanished into his hole....waiting for the next Mike's Hard Lemonade or Zima to fall into his grasp.
Now....I realize that to women this is like the sweet nectar and ambrosia only reserved for the greek gods...but no man would ever dream of touching the stuff....right????
A girl leaves it in my fridge because it is too sweet for even her. Fast forward 24 hours....after a long day of work said girl now wants a little drinkie-poo because her day sucked. "Well come on over! You still have your Smirnoff in my fridge.....or does she????
Now, the mystery begins. You try to think back through the fog that was your night and figure out what could have happened. Well.... Smirnoff tastes like genuine and pure evil in a bottle so you wouldn't drink it even if that "Saw" guy told you to in his creepy ass voice. And she left it in the fridge...you definitely remember watching her walk away *wink*, and everyone else at the party had their own beer....except...no....he wouldn't have....THE MOOCH!!!
"The Mooch" is most definitely that guy. Nobody really invited him. How did he find out about this party? Somehow he figured out where and when the party was through divination or some other black art, but he didn't quite find out that it was BYOB....how convenient. Except nobody is willing to give him anything to drink...cuz he's "The Mooch", and we all guard our cases like a pit bull guards his food dish. Inadvertent bites may happen but its worth it to teach "The Mooch" a lesson. But he is a sneaky little minx and finds a stash of drinks in a fridge in a room away from the party....jackpot. He quickly pilfers these libations and returns to the party a little tipsy and feeling good. And nobody is the wiser....until the next night....and Smirnoff is missing....and there is an angry girl....but "The Mooch" has again vanished into his hole....waiting for the next Mike's Hard Lemonade or Zima to fall into his grasp.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
The Pretender
There you are. Sitting. Minding your own business. Maybe you are at a concert. Maybe you are at a ballgame. Maybe you went to the rodeo. Maybe you are having a cup of coffee. Maybe you are on your favorite bench at the mall that overlooks the Victoria Secret exit (um...forget that last part...I reveal too much to you people). And there he is...in all his glory!!! I call him "The Pretender".
Leading candidates for "The Pretender"
The Jersey Douche
Haha...is the title easy? Yes. Is the title of this character funny? Yes. Is the title of this character true? Can something be "very" yes?
I have a vice or two...or three or four....teen. But I refuse to suscept myself to the torture and intelligence suckhole that is Jersey Shore.
This guy is ginger but attempting to tan, gel, and name body parts to become more like "The Situation" or whoever. Are you kidding me. Melanoma is not pretty. Neither is hair so sharp it pops balloons. Especially on a 6'4" ginger. You are not from Jersey (thank whatever god blessed you enough to not be born there [I hear you get robbed on your way out of the womb there]) You do not want to act, talk, or treat other people the way those sad sad excuses for human beings do. Trust me.
Another leading candidate would be "The Hometown Homie"
The guy that grew up in North Dakota, but tries to dress like a gangster, talk like a gangster, and lean like a gangster. (What's a gangster lean like anyway?? Is it that different from my pasty nerdy lean?? Less gangly and more "gang"ly?...haha that was lame) But come on dude. We all know you are the "coolest" because you left the hologram sticker on the brim of your cap. Makes you pretty gangster. Who wants to be a gangster anyway?? Death fear and racism....good fun.
Pull up your pants, straighten your hat, remove that damn sticker, get a job, and contribute to society.
Lastly,
The Cow-huh-boy?
Walking around a rodeo with his jeans tucked into his shit kickers (cowboy boots for all you city people). Big dorky cowboy hat with the tag hanging off the back (a major fashion faux pas...and I know my "faux pas" [also what is the plural of a word with a silent "s" at the end?{also how many parentheses before this becomes ridiculous? |correct answer...four haha|]]) OK back to the rodeo. He obviously bought the hat and boots that day in a terrible terrible attempt at actually fitting in, in a place has no business fitting in. You actually make yourself look like more of an outsider and definitely more of a douche by attempting to be someone you most certainly are not. No self respecting cowboy tucks his pants in his boots. Reason being that if a cow poops on your leg it runs down your leg...into boot...not exactly what I like walking in all day...might be good for the skin though haha.
There you have it. The leading candidates for "The Pretender". Let me hear your opinions.
Leading candidates for "The Pretender"
The Jersey Douche
Haha...is the title easy? Yes. Is the title of this character funny? Yes. Is the title of this character true? Can something be "very" yes?
I have a vice or two...or three or four....teen. But I refuse to suscept myself to the torture and intelligence suckhole that is Jersey Shore.
This guy is ginger but attempting to tan, gel, and name body parts to become more like "The Situation" or whoever. Are you kidding me. Melanoma is not pretty. Neither is hair so sharp it pops balloons. Especially on a 6'4" ginger. You are not from Jersey (thank whatever god blessed you enough to not be born there [I hear you get robbed on your way out of the womb there]) You do not want to act, talk, or treat other people the way those sad sad excuses for human beings do. Trust me.
Another leading candidate would be "The Hometown Homie"
The guy that grew up in North Dakota, but tries to dress like a gangster, talk like a gangster, and lean like a gangster. (What's a gangster lean like anyway?? Is it that different from my pasty nerdy lean?? Less gangly and more "gang"ly?...haha that was lame) But come on dude. We all know you are the "coolest" because you left the hologram sticker on the brim of your cap. Makes you pretty gangster. Who wants to be a gangster anyway?? Death fear and racism....good fun.
Pull up your pants, straighten your hat, remove that damn sticker, get a job, and contribute to society.
Lastly,
The Cow-huh-boy?
Walking around a rodeo with his jeans tucked into his shit kickers (cowboy boots for all you city people). Big dorky cowboy hat with the tag hanging off the back (a major fashion faux pas...and I know my "faux pas" [also what is the plural of a word with a silent "s" at the end?{also how many parentheses before this becomes ridiculous? |correct answer...four haha|]]) OK back to the rodeo. He obviously bought the hat and boots that day in a terrible terrible attempt at actually fitting in, in a place has no business fitting in. You actually make yourself look like more of an outsider and definitely more of a douche by attempting to be someone you most certainly are not. No self respecting cowboy tucks his pants in his boots. Reason being that if a cow poops on your leg it runs down your leg...into boot...not exactly what I like walking in all day...might be good for the skin though haha.
There you have it. The leading candidates for "The Pretender". Let me hear your opinions.
The Cockblock
Don't be that guy...nuff said...douche.
And this one is not a subject to laugh about or discuss....What I wrote is TRUTH pure and simple...no need for elaboration or explanation or any other "ation"
And this one is not a subject to laugh about or discuss....What I wrote is TRUTH pure and simple...no need for elaboration or explanation or any other "ation"
Sunday, January 16, 2011
The Vent
Ok, so we have all been there.
Remember that time that the cute girl/guy didn't dance with you? Remember the time that everyone had a date to that one party except you? Remember that time that your girlfriend cheated on you? Remember that time she dumped you for no reason? Remember when?
Remember how terrible that made you feel? Remember running to your one friend that would listen? Remember how hard it was to start? Remember that moment before telling your friend everything that was killing you? Remember how difficult those first words were? Remember the waterfall after? Remember how your friend barely talked...how they listened? Remember crying on his/her shoulder? Remember the hug that almost made you feel all better? That hug that makes you feel warm and loved? That hug that truly let's you know that this feeling will pass? That there are better days? Remember when?
Remember when your friend bought you another drink? Remember drinking and complaining until the sun was nearly up? Remember how terrible and how great that night was?
Remember those hugs.
Remember those tears.
Remember the giggles through the years.
Remember the love of friends.
Remember that everyone vents.
Remember to be a good friend.
Remember to be a vent.
Be THAT guy.
Remember that time that the cute girl/guy didn't dance with you? Remember the time that everyone had a date to that one party except you? Remember that time that your girlfriend cheated on you? Remember that time she dumped you for no reason? Remember when?
Remember how terrible that made you feel? Remember running to your one friend that would listen? Remember how hard it was to start? Remember that moment before telling your friend everything that was killing you? Remember how difficult those first words were? Remember the waterfall after? Remember how your friend barely talked...how they listened? Remember crying on his/her shoulder? Remember the hug that almost made you feel all better? That hug that makes you feel warm and loved? That hug that truly let's you know that this feeling will pass? That there are better days? Remember when?
Remember when your friend bought you another drink? Remember drinking and complaining until the sun was nearly up? Remember how terrible and how great that night was?
Remember those hugs.
Remember those tears.
Remember the giggles through the years.
Remember the love of friends.
Remember that everyone vents.
Remember to be a good friend.
Remember to be a vent.
Be THAT guy.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
The Gal-Pal
We've all seen him. We've all felt sorry for him. Hell...most of us have been him at one point or another. You know him by the fact that he's standing next to all the girls before they all hand their purses over to him as they hit the dance floor. That's right...he's "The Gal-pal".
This poor poor fella is sadly mistaken into thinking that he has a shot with these girls because he is being so very nice. Not so my good man. If you had a shot...it was a looooong time ago way before the girls put you in charge of baggage claim.
Here's how it happens.
You run into the cute harpy that you met last week in the bar. You make small talk and start thinking she is suuuper into you...she even said it was nice to meet you (and nobody would say that unless they had very serious feelings)!!!! Before you know it you are telling her about this party you are going to this weekend and she and her friends should come. They do...but forget their wallets (enter pouting face) for a beer cup...no worries you will be her knight in shining armor and purchase a glass of the godly nectar for them (then they will definitely like you).
Next thing you know they need a ride home and you are the nicest guy they know and so you give them a lift. But wait a minute...no kiss...no flirting...dude...you are a glorified taxi cab with a party hookup for them. Stop running errands...stop fixing their computers...stop refilling their keg cup...trust me she isn't interested...she just likes the fact that you will do anything for her. So...instead focus on that girl that is jealous of all the attention you are throwing at the harpy and introduce yourself...bring her a cup...see what happens.
Now, I'm sorry to say that at one point in my own life I was a "Gal-Pal-User"....now this is where a girl uses her own Gal-Pal to get you something. I'm not proud of this but it was nice to just have this poor chap bring me beer....haha....yeah I can see the appeal ladies, but it's not mean to tell a girl to refill a cup herself. It's 2010 and girls almost make as much money as men!!! Feminism women! You can do it....I believe in you!!
This poor poor fella is sadly mistaken into thinking that he has a shot with these girls because he is being so very nice. Not so my good man. If you had a shot...it was a looooong time ago way before the girls put you in charge of baggage claim.
Here's how it happens.
You run into the cute harpy that you met last week in the bar. You make small talk and start thinking she is suuuper into you...she even said it was nice to meet you (and nobody would say that unless they had very serious feelings)!!!! Before you know it you are telling her about this party you are going to this weekend and she and her friends should come. They do...but forget their wallets (enter pouting face) for a beer cup...no worries you will be her knight in shining armor and purchase a glass of the godly nectar for them (then they will definitely like you).
Next thing you know they need a ride home and you are the nicest guy they know and so you give them a lift. But wait a minute...no kiss...no flirting...dude...you are a glorified taxi cab with a party hookup for them. Stop running errands...stop fixing their computers...stop refilling their keg cup...trust me she isn't interested...she just likes the fact that you will do anything for her. So...instead focus on that girl that is jealous of all the attention you are throwing at the harpy and introduce yourself...bring her a cup...see what happens.
Now, I'm sorry to say that at one point in my own life I was a "Gal-Pal-User"....now this is where a girl uses her own Gal-Pal to get you something. I'm not proud of this but it was nice to just have this poor chap bring me beer....haha....yeah I can see the appeal ladies, but it's not mean to tell a girl to refill a cup herself. It's 2010 and girls almost make as much money as men!!! Feminism women! You can do it....I believe in you!!
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
The Professionals
Every REAL man alive enjoys sports. Enjoys them in every sense of the word. We enjoy watching them and talking about them. We have created networks (yes..that is plural) and magazines dedicated to them. Sports in general are one of the ties that bind men. If you are just about to meet your girlfriend's father, at least all guys know we can find a common thread through sports to get through this unbearable and awkward night.
But even more important than all of the above....men love to play sports. I write play because this is as close to childhood laughing and fun that a man can get. The intention of sports is to be fun through competition, but everyone knows "That Guy." The overbearing and over aggressive types that go too far.
"That Guy" comes in two forms. First, the super aggressive player that is there only to win (or make little children cry.) The guy that in a pickup game of basketball is talking trash and tackling people during warm-ups just to "get into their head." The guy that is out there to throw people to the ground to establish is interior dominance.
To that guy, I say watch out...because as sure as I am breathing there will be a crotch shot heading your way (So what if we were on the same team, I didn't like the way he was talking about your mother either) At least now we know you will no longer be passing your low intellect on through procreation.
The other version of "That Guy" stems from a missed chance to play sports in their younger years. They become over bearing and generally get too invested in these simple games. They are the ones that show up to a game of two-hand-touch football in pads and football cleats (so he can out run and out corner the defense.) Come on...we are hear for fun Rudy (catch that one??). Do we really need full pads to run around for a half hour and joke and play?
When playing...try not to take the game so seriously. Have a beer or two during softball. It's not going to affect your swing (and if it does...to be honest it could only help.) We really just feel sorry for this guy. You can barely carry all those pads much less run and jump. Why try so hard when you really still run like a girl (even worse when trying to carry all those pads)? So buck up there Sally and drop the pads...grab a brew....and enjoy the afternoon with the boys. You'll be back home getting harped on by the girlfriend soon enough...try to at least enjoy your time with the guys.
Yeah....Sports can be the things that bring all men together...assuming that you just don't take yourself or the game too seriously.
But even more important than all of the above....men love to play sports. I write play because this is as close to childhood laughing and fun that a man can get. The intention of sports is to be fun through competition, but everyone knows "That Guy." The overbearing and over aggressive types that go too far.
"That Guy" comes in two forms. First, the super aggressive player that is there only to win (or make little children cry.) The guy that in a pickup game of basketball is talking trash and tackling people during warm-ups just to "get into their head." The guy that is out there to throw people to the ground to establish is interior dominance.
To that guy, I say watch out...because as sure as I am breathing there will be a crotch shot heading your way (So what if we were on the same team, I didn't like the way he was talking about your mother either) At least now we know you will no longer be passing your low intellect on through procreation.
The other version of "That Guy" stems from a missed chance to play sports in their younger years. They become over bearing and generally get too invested in these simple games. They are the ones that show up to a game of two-hand-touch football in pads and football cleats (so he can out run and out corner the defense.) Come on...we are hear for fun Rudy (catch that one??). Do we really need full pads to run around for a half hour and joke and play?
When playing...try not to take the game so seriously. Have a beer or two during softball. It's not going to affect your swing (and if it does...to be honest it could only help.) We really just feel sorry for this guy. You can barely carry all those pads much less run and jump. Why try so hard when you really still run like a girl (even worse when trying to carry all those pads)? So buck up there Sally and drop the pads...grab a brew....and enjoy the afternoon with the boys. You'll be back home getting harped on by the girlfriend soon enough...try to at least enjoy your time with the guys.
Yeah....Sports can be the things that bring all men together...assuming that you just don't take yourself or the game too seriously.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The Uber-Fan
What kind of a man does it take to be "The Uber-Fan"??
Well, it turns out not much of a MAN at all. Here are the few rules I have managed to come up with to become "The Uber-Fan". Feel free to add some in the comments.
1) Be druuuuuuuunk. Did you catch that...this is very different from having one to many cocktails. I'm talking double-fisting for hours in preparation for the big game. I'm talking ass-over-teakettle drunk. "Cuz it'll be totally sweet dude!!!!"
2) Be shirtless. Because who isn't impressed by a slightly overweight thirty-something with a farmers tan? Bonus points if you forget to wear sunscreen and the bald spot takes the worst of it.
3) Be fearless in your use of obscenities and racial slurs....I think this one speaks for itself. "Who cares what those F@#$ers think anyway!!"
4) Know nothing about the sport being played or the teams playing. This is almost essential. To be "The Uber-Fan" you will have to be constantly hollering and screaming things that make little or no sense to anybody around you. I have heard "MAKE THE PLAY.....OR DON"T MAKE THE PLAY!!" verbatim from an actual "Uber-Fan".
5) Bonus points if you can upset fans of the team that you are cheering FOR!!!
6) Bonus points if you paint a portion of your body and end the day with a sunburn around the giant "D" you painted on your chest. (The "D" is for dumbass)
7) Bonus points if you actually get drunk enough to go ass-over-teakettle at some point.
8) Do not have the common decency to sit at any point during the game. You obviously are more important so definitely don't let little Jimmy see his hero smash a homer. Hopefully it just leads to a line drive that will shut you up!!
9) Definitely do not allow anyone from another city to even remotely enjoy watching and cheering for their team...."What are they doing in your house anyway?"
There you have it. The general tenets for becoming "The Uber-Fan". Now please avoid these and enjoy the game with everyone else.
Well, it turns out not much of a MAN at all. Here are the few rules I have managed to come up with to become "The Uber-Fan". Feel free to add some in the comments.
1) Be druuuuuuuunk. Did you catch that...this is very different from having one to many cocktails. I'm talking double-fisting for hours in preparation for the big game. I'm talking ass-over-teakettle drunk. "Cuz it'll be totally sweet dude!!!!"
2) Be shirtless. Because who isn't impressed by a slightly overweight thirty-something with a farmers tan? Bonus points if you forget to wear sunscreen and the bald spot takes the worst of it.
3) Be fearless in your use of obscenities and racial slurs....I think this one speaks for itself. "Who cares what those F@#$ers think anyway!!"
4) Know nothing about the sport being played or the teams playing. This is almost essential. To be "The Uber-Fan" you will have to be constantly hollering and screaming things that make little or no sense to anybody around you. I have heard "MAKE THE PLAY.....OR DON"T MAKE THE PLAY!!" verbatim from an actual "Uber-Fan".
5) Bonus points if you can upset fans of the team that you are cheering FOR!!!
6) Bonus points if you paint a portion of your body and end the day with a sunburn around the giant "D" you painted on your chest. (The "D" is for dumbass)
7) Bonus points if you actually get drunk enough to go ass-over-teakettle at some point.
8) Do not have the common decency to sit at any point during the game. You obviously are more important so definitely don't let little Jimmy see his hero smash a homer. Hopefully it just leads to a line drive that will shut you up!!
9) Definitely do not allow anyone from another city to even remotely enjoy watching and cheering for their team...."What are they doing in your house anyway?"
There you have it. The general tenets for becoming "The Uber-Fan". Now please avoid these and enjoy the game with everyone else.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
The One-Upper
I HATE this guy!
First, you get to a friend's house party. There are steps you are about to run through that every man does.
1) Find the host. Thank him for the party he is throwing and apologize in advance for the craziness that is about to ensue.
2) Open your second drink (let's be honest. We all know the first drink was the real number 1).
3) Scout the party...Who do you know? Who don't you know? More importantly,are there any girls that you want to know?!?!
Now comes the fun part, you just got into a conversation with a killer story about your drunken escapades at the lake, in the bar, or that time in Europe....whatever. The cute girl across the table giggles and gives you the "tell me another story" eyes, and you are just about to...when out of nowhere "The One-Upper" swoops in with his famous line, "That's nothing!!! This one time I..."(blah...who cares...blah...not nearly as funny as my story) And she actually giggles at that slop he threw out too.....ohhhhh it's on. You pull out your best story from Detroit at the bachelor party with the hobo (top that punkass!!)
"That's nothing...I once saw a hobo making it to third base with a blow up doll on a mountain of crack!! (Bullshit!!) Now....evvvveryone knows he's full of it. Don't be the guy that calls him on it. Just say, "Wow...that's amazing." And go grab another drink...because it's going to be a long night of avoiding THAT GUY.
First, you get to a friend's house party. There are steps you are about to run through that every man does.
1) Find the host. Thank him for the party he is throwing and apologize in advance for the craziness that is about to ensue.
2) Open your second drink (let's be honest. We all know the first drink was the real number 1).
3) Scout the party...Who do you know? Who don't you know? More importantly,are there any girls that you want to know?!?!
Now comes the fun part, you just got into a conversation with a killer story about your drunken escapades at the lake, in the bar, or that time in Europe....whatever. The cute girl across the table giggles and gives you the "tell me another story" eyes, and you are just about to...when out of nowhere "The One-Upper" swoops in with his famous line, "That's nothing!!! This one time I..."(blah...who cares...blah...not nearly as funny as my story) And she actually giggles at that slop he threw out too.....ohhhhh it's on. You pull out your best story from Detroit at the bachelor party with the hobo (top that punkass!!)
"That's nothing...I once saw a hobo making it to third base with a blow up doll on a mountain of crack!! (Bullshit!!) Now....evvvveryone knows he's full of it. Don't be the guy that calls him on it. Just say, "Wow...that's amazing." And go grab another drink...because it's going to be a long night of avoiding THAT GUY.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Sinking Ship
Have you ever seen this?
On any given Saturday night, a friend calls you up with an idea "Let's go downtown!!!" Great idea...or greatest idea? So, you throw on your best hoodie you can find and run out the door excited to grab a beer and shoot some pool with the boys....but hold on...do you hear that in the background of the phone call...something evil is afoot.
That's right that small giggle you heard in the background was not only the girlfriend, but also HER friends. You suddenly realize what a terrible terrible mistake you made when you climb into the car and look around and see shirts that resemble disco balls more than actual clothing. You all know what's about to happen....DANCING!!!!.....yay
This post is dedicated to the original caller. Don't be that guy. Never ever invite a friend onto a Titanic of an evening. When you realize that you are going down with the ship...instead text all your friends to avoid your fate of ramming an iceberg (catch that...the girlfriend is the iceberg...think about it) and being stuck on a dance floor being shoved from behind by some sweaty 500 pound man, while some girl you've never met rides your leg like a cowgirl and sweats all over you....yeah....dance clubs are fun....and the music....oh god if I never hear another YEEEE-AHHH...WHAAAAT....HANDS IN THE AIR A-A-A-AIR....it will be entirely too soon.
On any given Saturday night, a friend calls you up with an idea "Let's go downtown!!!" Great idea...or greatest idea? So, you throw on your best hoodie you can find and run out the door excited to grab a beer and shoot some pool with the boys....but hold on...do you hear that in the background of the phone call...something evil is afoot.
That's right that small giggle you heard in the background was not only the girlfriend, but also HER friends. You suddenly realize what a terrible terrible mistake you made when you climb into the car and look around and see shirts that resemble disco balls more than actual clothing. You all know what's about to happen....DANCING!!!!.....yay
This post is dedicated to the original caller. Don't be that guy. Never ever invite a friend onto a Titanic of an evening. When you realize that you are going down with the ship...instead text all your friends to avoid your fate of ramming an iceberg (catch that...the girlfriend is the iceberg...think about it) and being stuck on a dance floor being shoved from behind by some sweaty 500 pound man, while some girl you've never met rides your leg like a cowgirl and sweats all over you....yeah....dance clubs are fun....and the music....oh god if I never hear another YEEEE-AHHH...WHAAAAT....HANDS IN THE AIR A-A-A-AIR....it will be entirely too soon.
Friday, August 6, 2010
The Blow Off
Do you know this guy?
Have you ever made plans with a buddy? You know...those super-secret unbreakable plans that men make with each other whenever there is a big game on. There are definitely exceptions to the unbreakable nature of these plans (i.e. certain relations are being withheld if he leaves for the game...and death....I think that rounds out all exceptions).
We all know the guy that blows off the game because he is going to be such a BIG help when she is picking out the color of the drapes for the living room (lets be honest...lilac and periwinkle are the same color...and they both suck).
To this guy I offer some advice....don't be such a periwinkle (brought it back). But more importantly prove to her that she comes first during the PRESEASON...those games don't matter and she won't have any idea!! You'll get credit for missing the fourth string struggle to hike the ball AND you'll get a bye later when the games matter. WIN/WIN.
Also, to the girl that gets upset because its movie night..."Mama Mia" will be there tomorrow for him to suffer through. On every day of the year you will come first except when Duke is playing UNC...and that's nonnegotiable.
Have you ever made plans with a buddy? You know...those super-secret unbreakable plans that men make with each other whenever there is a big game on. There are definitely exceptions to the unbreakable nature of these plans (i.e. certain relations are being withheld if he leaves for the game...and death....I think that rounds out all exceptions).
We all know the guy that blows off the game because he is going to be such a BIG help when she is picking out the color of the drapes for the living room (lets be honest...lilac and periwinkle are the same color...and they both suck).
To this guy I offer some advice....don't be such a periwinkle (brought it back). But more importantly prove to her that she comes first during the PRESEASON...those games don't matter and she won't have any idea!! You'll get credit for missing the fourth string struggle to hike the ball AND you'll get a bye later when the games matter. WIN/WIN.
Also, to the girl that gets upset because its movie night..."Mama Mia" will be there tomorrow for him to suffer through. On every day of the year you will come first except when Duke is playing UNC...and that's nonnegotiable.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
The Ken Doll
Have you ever met this guy?
It's OK to change your sense of style slightly or occasionally to look like the kind of guy that a girl might actually WANT to date (read fooling her into thinking you are better than you are). New shoes and shirt for a first date. We all do or have done it. We all dress in a way that will HOPEFULLY attract not only the other sex, but more precisely the kind of girl that we are actually looking for. So, if I'm a grunge punk rocker kind of guy and that's also the kind of girl I want to date. Then, I'm not walking around in American Eagle. You get the point.
Anyway, these small choices of clothing that represent who we are as a person is not what I'm talking about. It's that guy. You know the one. The guy that used to wear a baseball hat and jeans. He maybe even wore a jersey or two, but since he started dating that new girl....boy he's changed. All of a sudden, he's wearing v-neck sweaters, popping his collar, and generally looking like he belongs in an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog.
Yeah....that guy.
It's not OK to let yourself become her personal Ken Doll every day. It's not OK if you have to ask for approval on your "going out" clothes. And it's definitely NOT OK if you show up to watch a game at the bar with the boys in frickin pink (No pink is not your color. And no it doesn't prove that you are secure in your masculinity enough to wear it...and even if you THINK you are secure...we are not so sure anymore). And stop popping your freaking collars. It just generally makes you look like a douchebag from the moment you walk in.
Dressing up and looking good for a girl is one thing, but if she is picking out your "outfits" you have a problem.
It's OK to change your sense of style slightly or occasionally to look like the kind of guy that a girl might actually WANT to date (read fooling her into thinking you are better than you are). New shoes and shirt for a first date. We all do or have done it. We all dress in a way that will HOPEFULLY attract not only the other sex, but more precisely the kind of girl that we are actually looking for. So, if I'm a grunge punk rocker kind of guy and that's also the kind of girl I want to date. Then, I'm not walking around in American Eagle. You get the point.
Anyway, these small choices of clothing that represent who we are as a person is not what I'm talking about. It's that guy. You know the one. The guy that used to wear a baseball hat and jeans. He maybe even wore a jersey or two, but since he started dating that new girl....boy he's changed. All of a sudden, he's wearing v-neck sweaters, popping his collar, and generally looking like he belongs in an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog.
Yeah....that guy.
It's not OK to let yourself become her personal Ken Doll every day. It's not OK if you have to ask for approval on your "going out" clothes. And it's definitely NOT OK if you show up to watch a game at the bar with the boys in frickin pink (No pink is not your color. And no it doesn't prove that you are secure in your masculinity enough to wear it...and even if you THINK you are secure...we are not so sure anymore). And stop popping your freaking collars. It just generally makes you look like a douchebag from the moment you walk in.
Dressing up and looking good for a girl is one thing, but if she is picking out your "outfits" you have a problem.
Don't Be That Guy
Have you ever met "that guy"? Don't get me wrong, I understand that is a vague question. I understand there are infinite situations, and in each of those infinite situations there can be a guy that is acting contrary to the accepted social norms. Therefore, there are infinite numbers of "that guy" or "those guys" out there. So, of course you have met "that guy".
You know the type. The guy that walks his girlfriend's dog while the dog is dressed in a pink sweater and jewelry. The guy that would voluntarily miss the Super Bowl party because his girlfriend wants to watch "Chocolat". The guy that pops his collar in a Midwestern town bar. The guy that fake bakes. The guy that every guy loves to hate. The guy that walks into a bar, and you and your friends ruthlessly lay into him about his bug-eye sunglasses and v-neck pink sweater.
That guy.
We all hate that guy. So, I'm dedicating this blog to prevent many of you from becoming "that guy".
You know the type. The guy that walks his girlfriend's dog while the dog is dressed in a pink sweater and jewelry. The guy that would voluntarily miss the Super Bowl party because his girlfriend wants to watch "Chocolat". The guy that pops his collar in a Midwestern town bar. The guy that fake bakes. The guy that every guy loves to hate. The guy that walks into a bar, and you and your friends ruthlessly lay into him about his bug-eye sunglasses and v-neck pink sweater.
That guy.
We all hate that guy. So, I'm dedicating this blog to prevent many of you from becoming "that guy".
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