The Life and Times of a Former Hoss: The Gift and the Curse

Shocking, another 1L blog. I bet if we didn't collectively spend so much time blogging, 1L may be less stressful. Find my thoughts on life, law, and... something else cliche that starts with an L.

Thursday, June 29, 2006

Dance puppet, dance!

Recently I had a request that I make my blog more entertaining. My friend, PK, who by his own self-acclaim is an expert comedian and he suggested that I fill my blog with more sexual exploits, since the readers love that stuff. I have two problems with this. One, he obviously has no idea how boring my weeks are. I come into this office for 8 hours, then I leave and go to the gym, and then I go home and try to find a way to waste time until the next work day comes around. Columbia in the summer is a ghost town, and besides the occasional trivia night, boxing, or live jazz at the Speakeasy, life is slow. Secondly, if I start writing about my sexual exploits, and those participating in them find the blog, they are less likely to continue.... so for now I'd rather kiss and not tell.

BUT.... hope is not lost. PK suggested if I wasn't willing to do that, that I should reference HIS sexual exploits, of which there are plenty. But most of them are old news and I'd like to hear some new material. So, in essence I'm issuing an 'open dick call' for PK. Now the pressure is on you my friend. Everyone out there is going to be anxiously awaiting your new stories, and you have to perform. End of story.

I'm gonna be away for a few days. My dad is having his 50th birthday this weekend and we're going whitewater rafting for a couple of days. Don't miss me too much. I'll probably return with lots of pictures and jokes about what happens in the woods of West Virginia. Please cue the banjo music from Deliverance.

Monday, June 26, 2006

A memo to Columbia drivers

I know many of you are too ignorant to notice things happening around you, so for those of you that are afflicted with this problem but remain literate, here's a list of suggestions. I realize that this probably applies to a small demographic; those who are dumb enough to drive this idiotically yet smart enough to find my blog and read it are bound to be a tiny minority in Columbia.

1. Please learn how to merge onto the interstate. The Harbison exit off of I-126 is less than 10 miles from my apartment. It should never take me more than ONE HOUR to get there as it did this last Friday unless there is a multi-vehicle accident in which many people die, and/or children are paralyzed. Nope, this weekend, no traffic accidents, no road construction, no bright and shiny objects on the side of the road, but traffic was at a standstill. This is unacceptable. I like the South because it isn't congested. I shouldn't have to deal with traffic like the 405 without all the benefits of Los Angeles. I take subpar entertainment because there is no traffic. If this keeps up, I'm not coming back.

2. If there is a dedicated turn lane, please use it. Do not stop in the one lane of flowing traffic with your turn signal on, causing me to scream, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING YOU STUPID DRIPPING CUNT, MOVE OVER INTO THE TURN LANE!" It's just embarrassing for everyone involved. In my defense, this was after it took me an hour to travel 8.6 miles and any additional delays were really pissing me off. Also, my windows were down so I'm not sure she heard me, though she did make a half assed attempt to get in the turn lane but still kept blocking traffic. This only enraged me further. I'm glad they have a waiting period on handgun purchases. Thank you, Brady Bill!

3. If you are travelling on a two-lane interstate and there is a long convoy of Army vehicles travelling at 55 mph in the right hand lane, you should be required by law to put down your AARP card and hit the accelerator on that Lincoln Continental and pass them. I know this is a phenomenon that happens when State Troopers are on the road and no one wants to pass them, but the Army is not going it to issue you a moving violation. Next time you slow me down like that, they will, however, issue me an M-16 and I may be forced to shoot you. I'm pretty sure that "giving fair warning" is all that is needed to absolve me of any legal liabilities down here in the South.

Summer Reading

In the attempt to get prepared for law school (and to fill all my spare time ) I've picked up reading again. Well, I guess I shouldn't phrase it in a manner to suggest that I may have forgotten how to read, although four years in South Carolina might do that to a person. So, here's what is on the current list.

I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell - Tucker_Max
Law School Confidential - Robert Miller
Peace Kills : America's New Imperialism - PJ O'Rourke.

Really, the only reason I bought all these books was because I was damned if I was going to pay shipping from Amazon! I went to their site with the intention of just buying Max's book because he has helped me get through a lot of boring ass days at work. It was only 9.95, so a relatively inexpensive buy, but shipping was going to be like six bucks.... so then I noticed Amazon's ever-running "buy 25 dollars of books and get free shipping special." So instead, I spent 26 more dollars so I could save six. And that is why I stopped doing math after high school.

On a related pop culture note, Jay-Z has decided to boycott Cristal from both his personal life and his 40/40 clubs. So, to stand in solidarity with my favorite hip-hop artist of all time, I'm no longer drinking Cristal either. Sorry Roederer.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

World Cup Fever... no seriously, I'm sick

Yesterday was the summer solstice, the longest day of the year… but the real important question is, how thick was it? Enough pirated Colbert material.

Today I went into work late so that I could catch the US World Cup match against Ghana, and once I realized that I was essentially paying 35 dollars to watch the match I felt like an idiot. Due to other things, mostly work… I haven’t been able to see a single US soccer match at the World Cup. I had a conversation with B and I’m beginning to think there is some sort of conspiracy against the US in international soccer matches. Granted, I haven’t played competitive soccer in ten years, but even us middle schoolers got away with more contact than the bullshit penalty kick call on the United States. Then, look at the seeding. We got a terrible group match (with Italy, Czech Republic, and Ghana) when we probably should have deserved a #1 seed. 8 were given out, the remainder of each group was decided by lottery. Mexico was one of the teams that got a 1 seed, and we proved we were better in the regional qualifying and were ranked 5th in the world; they are barely in the top 20!

The funny thing is, in most international sports we tend to presume we are just better than everyone else (which is true). Well, not really… we just assume that we should beat everyone at basketball, and for that arrogance, I think we deserve to lose… and since the Dream Team and their sequel, we haven’t done that well in international competitions. But that isn’t even the case in soccer! We acknowledge we aren’t on the same footing with the European teams, and apparently, they need to make sure we stay unequal with calls my Mom could make. These refs must have rug burns on their knees with how they were blowing the game… I mean, they were really getting into it. Also, it seems like the grass was in pretty poor condition for the World Cup… a number of players kept slipping and falling inside the box, which is a rarity (at least, when they weren’t being pushed from behind).

It’s stuff like this that will probably prevent America from really getting behind the national team… I mean, look at Ghana. That country can barely afford to pay its players (they are probably paying their salaries out of an IMF aid package) but its government made today a half-work day/national holiday, and also shut down some of its mines in order to conserve electricity for all the TVs to show the game! That is serious dedication. Meanwhile, when ESPN cuts to a shot of our fans they all tend to be really young, too full of idealism to listen to the adults who don’t understand soccer. Really, it’s one of the greatest games, mainly because it leaves your hands free for obscene gestures. And if that doesn’t do it for you, I’ve got one word for ya: hooliganism.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Go Canes!

I don’t pretend that this blog entry is going to be witty or anything, so don’t get your hopes up. I just wanted to get down this prediction so I can put it on my resume for when I apply to replace Ms. Cleo, since I think I’m set to become the next big and famous black Jamaican woman. So, as many probably know the Carolina Hurricanes just won the Stanley Cup, the first time any professional sports team from the Carolinas has done anything significant (and probably the only time that Tar Heel/Blue Devil fans rooted together). Now, I don’t know what anyone south of the Mason-Dixon line is doing beating Canadians at their own game, but I enjoyed every minute of it. Point is, last time Carolina made it to the Stanley Cup I was a senior in high school (back in ’02). This year, I had just graduated college…. So, I’m telling you, in ’09 (my estimated graduation year for law school) we will repeat as champions, this time in 6 games or less. Count it.

Also, my new fascination is hand-free peeing. I wish there was more to do in the bathroom because I feel like I have three arms when I do it. Oh the freedom! I could be so much more productive now…. Maybe next time I will take a notepad and pen with me to try to take notes while I’m pissing. And if that makes the guy from me uncomfortable, or look over at me funny, maybe I will draw a picture… that will make him feel much better ;).

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

I'm so glad I'm not grown up yet.....

While some of my friends are involved in serious job searches, I get to do what I've done for the last two summers now and wait for law school to start... and that makes me smile. For one, I'm excited to get out of the south and two, job opportunities coming out of USC suck. I was a McNair Scholar at USC which you think would get me somewhere. Nope! Yesterday I received an email from the Honors College which was forwarded to all of the McNair/Carolina Scholars about a job opening as a marketing and public relations assistant at the Columbia Museum of Art, or as I now call it, CoMA. The starting salary: 21k/year. I think I could make that much donating my semen, which is probably in high demand, and plasma for a year. Although that might be more stimulating than this job... just for shits and giggles I opened up the attachment which listed the job description. One of the described duties was "making sure the brochures are stocked in the lobby." Whew, good thing I went to college for that one! And the sad thing is, these are jobs being offered to what are supposed to be the brightest minds at South Carolina! That really makes me either a/worried for the rest of our graduating class or b/wonder why the hell the Honors College is forwarding this information onto us. Bye bye southern bureaucracy, hello NYC!

Creatures of habit

I decided to switch up my morning routine today and it really threw me off. Big mistake. Unless that is, of course, instead of coffee I was feeling the urge for a boiling pot of hot water. Yup, that's right, I decided not only to start the coffeemaker without any coffee beans in it, I also let it finish. [Maybe I didn't want to give Mr. Coffee blue balls.... I thought that was just common courtesy].

I don't know if you've seen it, but I'm loving this new EA Sports commercial for their new football game... well, it's not really a game per se, since your job is to manage the team, but the commercial is pretty funny. It's this guy and Jeff Fisher, coach of the Tennessee Titans on the sideline.

Guy: Run the fake punt.
JF: No.
Guy: Come on, run the fake punt. It'll work!
JF: No, it's a bad idea!
Guy: You know what was a bad idea? You letting Eddie George go.... Now go get some water.

That commercial just cracks me up, though that could be what happens when I get four cups of boiling water in my system...

Monday, June 19, 2006

Before and After: The story of my life and my law school personal statement

Most of my childhood and up until my freshman year of college was spent being fairly overweight. My freshman year, I met my future best friend Z who also had similiar weight issues. We busted our asses and between the two of us lost close to 100 pounds. Our debate coach DB even made a joke that we should do a before and after poster with some subtitle that says, "Look what Carolina Debate can do for you!"

It really is quite amazing how different people treat you just because of how you look. Renee Zwellwegger, when she gained all that weight for Bridget Jones Diary talked about it in one interview, noting that when she was overweight people never held open doors for her or anything like that. And it's true, but a world that most people won't ever know without being overweight.


I'm on the left in both pictures, so there is the before and after... except after and before. You get the point.

Anyway, when it came to writing my law school personal statement I couldn't think of anything to write about... Diversity? Challenges? I was a white, suburban male from a middle-upper class family, so it was hard to fulfill some of the expectations set forth by the applications. For a while, I thought about the sarcastic approach but realized while it might be entertaining for the first 50 words or so, the adcomms would probably just figure me for a pompous ass after that, which may not have been the worst character call in the world, but I digress. So, I decided to write on what it was like to grow up overweight. After a lot of thinking, I decided to post my personal statement on the web. Some people are overly protective of their writing, or embarrassed to put such things up for public ridicule... but I know that I would have liked to read some personal statements to get a feel for them before the application process, so if it helps anyone or makes anyone think a little, I guess it's worth it.

As a disclaimer, I'm sure this thing is riddled with errors. For one, I have never been one for extensive editing of these papers, maybe because of my success with my undergrad applications that I really didn't put too much effort in, but also because it is a personal statement, not some research paper. The errors give it some character and, if there are grammatical errors, I'm sure it helps maintain the narrative sense of the statement instead of making it overly formal. I also have not even looked at this since I sent in my applications so who knows what it even looks like. So without any further ado....

My life has often seemed like a fairy tale. Unfortunately, this Brother Grimm has often felt less like Prince Charming, and more like an ugly duckling. Most of my high school years, and even a portion of college, were spent being obese. At 6 feet tall and 240 pounds, I was hardly a spectacle of physical fitness. This is not an essay designed to elicit sympathy. Rather, it is intended to detail the circumstances surrounding my childhood and adolescence.

Many law school applications ask you to write an essay detailing how you can add to the diversity of their incoming class. As examples, distinctions of class, race, socioeconomic status, and nationality are often listed. Obesity, or harsher still, unattractiveness, to my knowledge, never appears as a categorical distinction on any law school application Yet, I can think of no other factor which has shaped my social interactions to a greater degree than my struggle with my weight.

The specter of obesity has loomed large. From as early as second grade I can remember being pelted with nicknames of “fatty,” “chubs,” and the extreme “Shamu the Killer Whale.” Even on a retreat with a church group, the same members that preached “love thy neighbor,” were ironically not hesitant to hurl insults. For a while, my situation seemed both dire and hopeless. Trying to change my personality to suit what I thought was popular was both fruitless and depressing. Even to a young mind, the idea of sacrificing my identity for the sake of popularity was unfathomable.

Dieting did nothing to change the attitudes of those whom I called my peers. In tenth grade, I started attending Weight Watchers with my mom and managed to lose almost thirty-five pounds. However, the change in my physical appearance was not enough to outweigh the memories of my former self in both the eyes of my peers and myself. The frustration of four months of hard work combined with still being cast as a social pariah was enough to cause me to regain the weight.

Attending college at the University of South Carolina provided a fresh start for me. Since the school was sparsely attended by anyone from my high school, there were few people who had a memory of an overweight Chris ingrained in their heads. A friendly wager from my freshman-year roommate was all the motivation I needed to begin my transformation. After six months of a stringent diet and frequent exercise, I had lost almost fifty-five pounds. While the change was not drastic enough to land a Subway commercial deal, my life has never been the same since. Though I would never consider myself to be a “meathead,” my daily trips to the gym are my release; it is a time to be free from the demands of a full class load combined with a competitive collegiate debate schedule.

The only holdover from those days is a nickname that I have carried since my freshman year of high school. These days the moniker has become shortened to reflect my smaller size. Formerly “Big Hoss,” the name serves as a light reminder of my past, a culmination of events and relationships that have shaped who I am as a person today. Simultaneously, it strikes a chord within me that appearances are only skin-deep, and a cursory glance at a person is never adequate to judge the true measure of their character. To dismiss someone based solely on a vain and arbitrary factor is not only mean-spirited, but denies them of the very thing that makes them human. This lesson has taken me nearly twenty-one years to fully appreciate, and one I find far more valuable than anything a book or a lecture can teach. These life experiences have enabled me to approach anything as a blank slate, tabular rasa. All too often, predispositions blind us from seeing the truth that stands directly before us, a lesson that is equally applicable to treatment of others or a new learning endeavor.

It's the little things that make me smile...

Here are a few things that have made me happy lately:
1. Little_Tortfeasor linked me on her site and she's almost as entertaining as I am. ALMOST ;) So she gets a shout-out in the links section now, check her out.

2. There is some girl who is a student at South Carolina who is probably spoiled... just my assumption, since she drives a fairly new Mercedes convertible with a custom license plate. It reads "DOLCE." Whenever I drive my car by it, my rumbling exhaust sets off her car alarm. Totally faced.

3. Another comment from one of my fans: "Your cousin's blog centers around self-perception and praise to a higher being, Chris's blog centers around the akward moments of silence when taking a dump in a public restroom yet I still have more respect for chris' writing." These are the kind of people that I want reading my blog.... and also probably the only people that enjoy it.

The Devolution of Rap

What has the rap world been coming to? To me, I really enjoy rap that tells a story to some degree or another instead of just talking about how much bling they own, weight they've moved, hoe's they fucked and so on and so forth. This is probably why I enjoy listening to a lot of the battle raps that have caused controversy in the hip-hop world, mostly the Jay-Z and Nas beef. Trading blows on Takeover and Ether, it's almost inspiring and certainly hilarious, to listen to them shit on each other… No one really does that anymore…. Oh, except for Bow Wow and Lil Romeo. When Bow Wow's "Fresh Azimiz" song first came out, I was feeling the beat but wasn't sure that Bow Wow was accomplished enough to talk so much shit. Plus, some of it wasn't even good shit-talking. "I'm 18 and I'm making more than your dad." I'm not impressed by that. My dad works for the government, I know 15 year old Thai sex slaves that make more than him.

Then I found out the song was directed at Lil Romeo because of something he said…. "What?" This kid's career role is basically "to be Master P's son." That's it… oh, and an appearance on Dancing With the Stars that he had to back out of because of an ankle injury. What gives him the right to talk any shit, especially to Bow Wow (who has dropped the Lil moniker because you know, he's practically 12 now). "Oh, I got my driver's permit, what now niggah! In between the hours of 6 AM – 9 PM and provided I have a legal guardian in the car with me I'm gonna roll on your ass." Give me a break.

I call it, "Tricks Around the Office"

For those of you Arrested Development fans out there, that's an allusion. Not to Poe, though.

When I started this blog, it was almost my intention to dedicate the blog to my research in nanotechnology and to keep everyone updated on what I was up to over the summer…. Then I realized that might bore you to tears, in addition to being a potential liability to my boss, so I decided otherwise. However, there are days when, at the very least, moderately entertaining things happen at our office. I will save my run-in with an incoming freshman who got lost for another time… or maybe just keep that private altogether. But, our office recently did get an invitation for a conference on Solid Waste. Yup, that's right. A poop party. I wanted to go because I figured the material for jokes would be endless…. That and it might bring new meaning to the word shitstorm.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Awkward Silences

As far as I am concerned there are two types of very awkward silences, so awkward in fact, they may surpass in awkwardity* a silence following "I love you." Plus, you can always make that one entertaining. Just follow it up with, "That's okay. I gave you the clap anyway."

The first one is the notorious silence that follows me onto an elevator. You get on the elevator and it is dead quiet. You could cut the tension with a knife, or maybe even bludgeon it to death. Everyone stands around trying to avoid making eye contact with each other, or just staring up at the numbers on door overhang, hoping that their glaring stare will make their floor come faster. Trust me, it doesn't work. Of course, your other option is to try to make meaningless conversation but that's risky too. You really only have one shot at a quick and witty opener, and if you bomb, you just magnified the awkwardity* factor. I thought this was a fear that everyone shared, but apparently it's just me (or at the very least, a small portion of the population). I remember at NFL Nationals in 2002, I was in elimination rounds of impromptu and I got as my topic "Elevators." I could not wait to rant and rave about this very subject, but I didn't advance so I can only assume this was a foreign concept to the judges. Fuck them, they better not be caught alone in an elevator with me.

The second silence I hate is when you're in the bathroom and multiple people are taking a dump at once, though hopefully not in the same toilet. It's like everyone is waiting for some covering fire before they drop the bomb. Now, I'm not ashamed of making any guttural noises while dropping the Cosby kids off at the pool. My problem is I find them too funny, so if the bathroom is dead silent and I rip one or drop a watermelon in the bowl, I will probably fall off the toilet literally laughing my ass off. Trust me, it's happened. And while I like making a fool out of myself just as much as the next guy, it's just not productive. I'd rather make it a Navy SEAL operation. Bring some firecrackers and a smoke bomb in with me, and do my business under the cover of explosives.

On a similar note of bathroom antics... Is it wrong that whenever I see someone who is obviously a germaphobe or OCD about cleaning their hands in the bathroom that I make sure not to wash mine, and then make sure he notices that and that I am making no qualms about getting my germ infested hands all over the door handle? It's the little things that amuse me. One such character at work has turned into a Pavlov's dog of sorts. He has actually gone the extra step to get a paper towel as a protective insulator between his hand and the doorknob. Chris 1, stranger 0. I think if he starts wearing latex gloves, I'm gonna have to call it game, set, and match. By the way, for those of you who are concerned about such bathroom hygiene, I will let you in on my secret: I don't piss all over my hands.

*Word accredited to SD.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

ESPN 8: "The Ocho"

Now, as some of you may have noticed I have a fascination with poker. I, too, am one of the countless people who like to watch the World Series of Poker on ESPN. I will even watch episodes I've seen four to five times, ones where I can recount the hand history, betting action, everything. I know this isn't the most interesting thing to watch to most people, including most of my girlfriends (past and presnt) that I've forced to sit through said episodes. But I think it's exciting, and I like it, so that's all there is to it.

Even I, however, cannot come to grips with the new and exciting "sport" (and I most certainly use that term in the loosest sense possible) on ESPN2: The World Domino Championships. It doesn't help that I have no idea how to play dominoes competitively; I had to watch it for almost twenty minutes until I figured out you played on teams of 2. I would almost rather watch the PBA Tour on ESPN Classic than this show. I do not understand how it is entertaining to anyone. What is next, Scrabble? Monopoly? At least poker conjures up images of the Wild West, with gunslingers chasing shots of bourbon with women, where wagers were unlimited and property deeds were gambled with. Dominoes, on the other hand, makes me think of retirement homes, colostomy bags, and strokes. While I suppose this provides a very unique market to advertise to, I'm not sure what other purpose it serves.

On a side note, I am limping around today like one of the geezers that watches this Domino Championship. I slightly tore/severely strained my MCL while playing rugby in college and occasionally it acts up. I'm not sure if it's the weather (it has been very rainy these last few days in Columbia; it's the notorious 4 pm showers that occur daily), but even after a 10 minute bike warm-up and extensive stretching, just bending at the knees to get under the squat bar caused a pop in my left leg. Thinking maybe I needed to warm up, I went to the leg extension machine and couldn't even move 30 pounds. Certainly not promising. Maybe I should start practicing my dominoes, that is, if I can get a hand free from my walker.

Monday, June 12, 2006

My very own threatdown

The first threat on our list, and ranked number five on my list today are Nalgene bottles. Touted for their supposed indestructability, mine broke today. That's right. I managed to break a Nalgene bottle! I'm torn between triumph and disappointment. Actually I can't even take credit for it. I put it on the dishwasher after someone suggested it wasn't "healthy" to drink from it for weeks on end without washing it. Well, the dishwasher took on Nalgene and won in a shutout (much like the Czechs whooping our ass, but that's another story for another time). Although I think I have solved the mystery. There is a heating coil in there that is used for the heating dry option, and I think it was touching part of that. Makes more sense than the alternative, which would be that the water got REALLY HOT.

The fourth threat: People who overabuse facebook's status update. I don't know what's going on here, but some people feel the need to update their facebook status every single minute. It drives me nuts, and quite frankly, it scares me. No, I did not need to know that "Bob is taking a shit right now, but will be back after he rubs one out." No thanks indeed.

Coming in at number three: Columbia weather. I woke up this morning and it was already 82 degrees out with 312% humidity. I think this is part of a grander conspiracy to get people to leave the South. Also, I think that's why Southern culture is a lot slower-paced than other places.... you just can't afford to move fast. Which is why we probably haven't gotten past the whole racism bit.

The number two threat: Bears. Always a perennial threat, I was shocked to see that these bears never rest. I would have thought that bears rested in the summer from frightening people, given how hot it is and their furry coats. But that's what the bears want me to think, and I was wrong.

And the number one threat, is the incoming freshman class. Freshman orientation has kicked off this week at the University of South Carolina, and I don't know if this is God (or perhaps my parole officer) playing a trick on me. Fortunately, most incoming freshman are at least 18 so I'm probably not interested. Just kidding. But seriously... why are all these people so insistent on walking around in large masses ever so slowly? Don't they know that I have places to go, people to see, jobs to complete? They should know that I have owned this campus for the last four years and get out of my way (or at least form a human walkway for my convenience).

Friday, June 09, 2006

American Culture is the ONLY culture

For those of you that live under a rock, the World Cup is kicking off today. While I do enjoy watching any sport where nations compete, I won't lie and pretend that I'm a real soccer fan that follows Real Madrid or Barcelona when the World Cup isn't going on, but I do appreciate soccer as a sport. There are some sports that I like to play, but certainly don't follow much during the season. Actually, this is probably true for all sports except for football. See title for more information on that front ;). But, the World Cup is still pretty freakin' sweet and I would like to see America do well even though our group play pairing sucks and even if we advance, will likely have to face some very tough opponents.

That being said, I recognize that soccer has never really taken off that much here in the U.S. and maybe it never will. It seems like the general population is stuck in a mentality that refuses to embrace our national team, even after we made it to, I believe, the quarterfinals last year. In a way it reminds me of that new SportsCenter commercial with Neil Everett and some soccer player (see, I can tell you the name of the SportsCenter anchorman but can't recognize who I am pretty sure is a well-known soccer superstar. I do know that it was NOT Ronaldhino).

Neil: Well, you have football over there which is our soccer. But what do you call our football?
Soccer player: Football.
Neil: Why don't you change the name of it to soccer? That way you have your football which is our soccer, and your soccer which is our football. Then you'll be like us, except in reverse. It will help with the confusion.

On a similiar note, SportsCenter was doing their promotional piece for the World Cup today and their strategy (probably a marketing strategy, see my_earlier_post for how I feel about bad marketing) was to compare it to football. Our football, which is, their football too.... well, their other football. See, Neil was right; it is confusing. Anyway, they invite this lady on and ask her, "Who would you say is the Brett Favre of the World Cup?" "Who is the Kobe Bryant?" "Are there any Michael Jordan or Terrill Owens types?" Probably not, I doubt anyone else can produce a rap song as terrible as "I'm back." Although I was glad to hear that Terrill "got the recipe and now he's back in the kitchen." He is right, he did have me saying, "Wow, boy." Back to the point.... why can't the World Cup just be great in its own right? Why do we have to compare it to all of our other sports heroes? I think we have some inferiority complex where we fear not being the best... so when we get to sports where we are second best, or in this case 8th best (although I think we might have been ranked as high as 2nd or 3rd during the year) we have to remind everyone that we had outstanding athletes at these other sports too. It is intriguing.

On a side note, this lady they brought on the show was terrible. At the end they ask her, so who is your pick for the World Cup? Her response, "I'm going with an underdog, the Dutch. They have a really young team, kind of inexperienced, and their pool is really hard, but I'm going with them anyway." I'm not making this up, that is almost what she said verbatim. Now, maybe I'm old fashioned but I wouldn't mind hearing an explanation as to why a team that as all these odds against them would win the entire tournament, besides the fact that it might make a good Disney movie in a couple of years. People like her is the reason that Vegas makes money.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

You missed me, didn't you?

Sorry for the (what I consider) long absence from the blogging world. My last week was actually somewhat busy, both personally and at work and it has distracted from my blogging. That being said, here are a few thoughts that are on my mind.

I hate anyone who is a marketing major. Yes, I mean that sentence to have that sort of generic applicability. For one, poor marketing decisions doomed Arrested Development which I find to be one of the greatest sitcoms alive. But no, Fox decides to air When Good Pets Go Slightly Less Good 12 instead. As an example, the last four episodes of the season were aired against the Olympic games opening ceremony. Even I can tell you that is not a good decision, and I don't know shit about marketing. Now, poor marketing is threatening to ruin something else I love (though admittedly not as much as Arrested Development). "Daddy horny Michael!" The NHL. Now, I can't remember if I made this prediction last year or this year, but I said Carolina was going all the way to I.S. at one point while he staunchly defended the Avalanche. Point being, Carolina is in the finals and it started off as a great series. Cam Ward, the 'Canes rookie goaltender made phenomenal saves and Carolina rallied back from a 3-0 deficit to win the first game. Let me ask you this: Do you know what channel the Finals are being broadcast on? Probably not, because it is OLN. (I'll give ya a minute for the crickets to chirp). That's right, the network known for nothing, outside of potentially being the only channel to consistently air cycling. To give you an idea of how badly this has screwed the NHL, the first game was only watched in 600,000 households (mine being one of them). I'm sure that number means nothing in a vacuum, but more people watched the finals of the College Softball World Series. Nothing against women's sports, but that just does not compete with Sir Stanley. Our balls are certainly a little softer after that insult.

By the way, Hurricanes won 5-0 tonight. Stu Scott? BOO YAH!

As some of you may know, I had been cat sitting for a while. Well, unfortunately my new found friend had to leave. The initial owners failed to inform me that she had not been spayed and she was definitely in heat. Fortunately I called "not it" on having to satifsy her, but I'm not sure my roommates came through on that one. She would not stop meowing all through the night and I couldn't sleep. It was fun while it lasted Sasha!

On a more serious note I was kind of disturbed a conference call we had today at work. In my thesis I made the argument that groups like ICON would serve as a good method of CSR (Corporate Social Responsibility) for the nanotechnology industries. With a multitude of sponsors, they should not be afraid of taking responsible policy decisions because it won't cause them to lose their funding (among other arguments). So today, someone mentions that they need to consider "what policy boundaries we want to establish." Maybe it's not a big deal to you, but that really bothered me. He apparently didn't get his degree at "Gro Au Paire" U.

Do you ever have the urge to "make something official?"* I had one of those the other nights. In a $70 dollar pot in PLO, I was a 9:1 favorite to win the hand. I had Qh Qs 3c 4c v. Js 10s 8h 8d with all the money going into the pot on a board of Qc 8c 6h 2h. So, for you non-Omaha analysts out there I had the top set and the only available flush draw versus a lower set plus a gutshot. Translation, he could only catch a non-club 9 (like, perhaps the 9h) on the river to win. Which he did. So, I promptly decided to rebuy and donk off that money as well.


*This is a reference to Vince Vaughn in Old School when he gets the warning from the referee. He says, "You wanna make it official, let's make it official" and throws a chair at the guy. My friend Zach is also prone to this. He'll get busted in a pot, then rebuy for twice that much and proceed to raise and re-raise every pot until he's out of money. I promise it's more satisfying than you would initially think*

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Welcome to June... with a hint of bitterness

Last night was absolutely god-awful. So, my foster cat has apparently not been spayed and is in heat. Translation for you non-cat owners [so jealous of you people right now]: she is constantly meowing and scratching on things or rubbing up against them and knocking them over. How about a second level of translation, ie what does that mean for Chris? That means this is how Chris's sleep schedule went last night.

Step 1) attempt to fall asleep at 12:30.
Step 2) actually fall asleep somewhere closer to the neighborhood of 1:45.
Step 3) Wake up at 4:10 to the cat incessantly crying out for some kitty dick.
Step 4) Try to ignore and go back to sleep.
Step 5) Fail miserably.
Step 6) At approximately 4:40, give up and throw the cat in the bathroom hoping that the sounds will be insulated. Oh wait, I forgot. Our doors are actually hollow (true story).
Step 7) 5:15, fall asleep while attempting to smother myself. Seriously, think of a pillow sandwich with Chris's head in the middle. Admittedly, not the brightest idea.
Step 8) Wake up at 6:35 when the kitten decided to start rubbing my airhole... when stuck in a pillow sandwich, always keep your airways clear *note to cat*.
Step 9) Begrudingly get out of bed at 7:45. Ta dah!


Our dumpsters have pulled a GOB-like illusion. Seriously. Every dumpster in our apartment complex is gone. I doubt they sunk them with explosives, but honestly, how did I miss this? It's not like you can quietly drag one off in the middle of the night.