Field of Deets

Thursday Night TV Report:

The O.C.:

Alright, I think it's obvious that The O.C. is in a bit of a sophomore slump. Last season it was so fresh and so creative and well-written. This season I think it still trying to decide what to do with the characters, trying to iron out some plot lines (mistakes). It is almost to the point where if I missed it one week, I wouldn't be too bummed out about it. Last week I would never have missed an episode for any reason. For example, with 15 minutes to go in the show, I left on a commercial break to make a booze run. I still caught that last 7 minutes. The show still has some of the elements of what made it so great last season, but a few things are missing:

1) Viewers like to see characters they like do well and be happy. How many consecutive episodes are going to end with one or more characters sulking? We need a happy moment. The show is/was the perfect comedic drama. Now it is slipping toward being a comedic drama.

2) We need more unintentional comedy. Luke was perfect for this last year. We need a character who can be in the show for about five minutes a week and just be off the wall, stupid, funny, angry. It doesn't matter, we need some absurdity. "Welcome to The O.C., Bitch!"

3) We Sandy to give out some fatherly advise to Seth and Ryan. Who else misses that? Maybe with Holiday season coming up, both Thanksgiving, and yes, of course, Chrismakuh, we'll see some of the Coen family comedy.

A few other notes:

Does anyone else cringe when you see Julie Cooper?
Does anyone else cringe when you know Misha Barton is going to have a scene that requires good acting?
Does anyone else cringe when you know what Ryan should be saying, but instead he doesn't say a word at all?

The Seth Character is personifying the Romantically Inept.

Also, and The Rizz pointed this out, did anyone notice that when Ryan was speaking to Physics professor about his issues over the assignment and his partner that no one in the class turned around to see what was going on? In what high school would zero people be checking that out? It's the little things.

Favorite Lines:

Seth: "Less take, more give; more catching, less pitching."

Seth: "That's my niche, pathetic and sweet."

Summer: "You know there is no knocking on my door on Thursday until 9!" *The O.C. gets over at 9 on Thursdays on the East Coast. That was intentional and funny. I like it.

CSI:

A whole episode with 6 foot women who are men, just ripe for some great scientific work. Is she "still packing"? Does she have to "tuck"? Or, did they turn the sock inside out? Is the penis now a vagina? Key questions in the episode as we found out. The husband performed fallatio on his wife. Let me type that again. The husband performed fallatio on his wife. Then spit some of the cum on the girl he killed. Kick ass. Guy, can you imagine sucking your girlfriend's cock? Not my mug of beer, as opposed to cup of tea, but, hey, whatever runs blood to your penis, and her's, or his or whatever. If you were with a girl, could you tell if she had had this surgery done? One thing I was bummed about, and maybe I missed it somehow, but did they ever show the faincee of the dead girl finding out that his wife-to-be used to stand she pissed? That would be a tough pill to swallow.

Until Later.

Yes, A Challenge! A challenge that will last until June, 2005.

I was just cruising around film-geek land on the internet, and I was on AFI's site (no, not the band AFI - A Fire Inside), the American Film Institute and they have announced that their annual Top 100 Countdown on CBS will be the Top 100 quotes in film history. They have linked a list of the Top 400 nominees. It is my goal to see every movie and quote on that list and then rank them myself to see how I stack up with the institue. (I pause while you point, laugh, and ridicule.)

Are you done?

Okay then.

Yes, I am a nerd. Yes, I like it. So, if you want to watch a bunch of movies, I will already be there.

Go to this link and scroll to the bottom to open the pdf file of the nominees. Anyone care to challenge me to see who can get the most correct? C'mon, this is about quotes, how often do people quote movies? All the damn time. (Jered Pedersen - Quote Machine).

Game On.

Until June.

Thursday Night TV Report Coming Tonight

I'm a bit of a film geek. Some call me "movie-mon." I own about 105 DVD's. I possess a lot of extremely useless film knowledge. For instance, Tom Selleck was originally cast to play Indiana Jones. Edward Norton only did The Italian Job to finish out a contract, otherwise the company would have sued him. Vincent D'Onofrio gained 70 pounds for his role at Private Pyle in Full Metal Jacket, a world record. Stupid Shit. I can own the Six Degrees to Kevin Bacon game. By the way, if you learn the cast of only a few of Bacon's movies, you can own that game. I suggest JFK, Sleepers, Mystic River, Apollo 13, and A Few Good Men. Many actors in those movies will get you to many other actors. Whatever. Where does this get me? Nowhere, except up late at night on a computer. Wonderful. Anyway, I was writing about movies because I read this piece today. It made me laugh, and all jokes are rooted in the truth. It makes a great point about Hollywood producing some really shitty movies. To find the really good films that become your all-time favorites, the ones that touch you, the ones you can watch over and over, you almost need to seek out the smaller budget or independent films, like Memento, The Usual Suspects, Moonlight Mile, Boondock Saints, Donnie Darko, The House of Sand and Fog, and any Coen Brothers film, at least for me. I mean, seriously, who is going to see "I, Robot" and walk out saying it is their favorite move of all-time?!? But how many people walked out of the theatre after seeing "The Shawshank Redemption," an independent film, and said, "That was the best movie I have ever seen."? I, Robot is going to be a box-office hit because of the star power of Will Smith and the CGI geeks who get a hard on over crazy special effects that aren't even relevant to the plot who see it just for that purpose. Take the movie Artificial Intelligence for example, it cost the studio 90 million to make and only grossed 78 million in the box office. This doesn't include the marketing campaign for it. And the movie sucked. Boondock Saints grossed 25 million on a 20 million dollar budget. But then you have really strange and sad cases, like in The Usual Suspects and Donnie Darko. Both of these movies are in imdb.com's Top 250 list of all-time, based on votes from users on the site. Suspects is at #18 with an 8.7 rating and Darko is at #91 with an 8.3 rating, but those films did horribly at the box office. Suspects cost 6 million to make and made only a little over one. Darko had a 4.5 million dollar budget and didn't even take home three-quarters of a million in its first release. So, do box office tell the tale as far as quality goes? Of course not. And I'm not saying all big-budget Hollywood movies are crap either. I liked Minority Report a lot; I own it. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy is another example, although I don't own those, yet. One company to keep an eye on is Focus Features. They have put out Gosford Park, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Traffic, Blood Simple, The Man Who Wasn't There, 21 Grams, Lost in Translation, and many more. They put out quality stuff time and time again. Anyway there's a bit about that. Any movie I listed in this entry I recommend you rent on your next trip to the store, except for I, Robot and A.I.

Until Tomorrow

Can anyone else not believe the big to do with Monday Night Football opening the other night? So a girl jumped into T.O.'s arms not wearing anything. We see much worse on a daily basis. I even saw it re-aired on another station, so it could not have been that bad, granted the re-airing was a few hours later than the original. Ridiculous, the red states probably had a problem with a white girl jumping into a black man. But, for 22% of voters "moral values" was the biggest thing in deciding who to vote for, so maybe that was to be expected. By the way, "moral values" is a redundant phrase. "Morals" and "values" are essentially the same. And, "moral values" have little, if anything at all, to do with religion. Every religion has different "moral guidelines" laid out for its believers. Look at the differences between Mormons, Christians, and Muslims. Mormons practice polygamy. Christians are all about abstinence 'til marriage and then monogamy from there on out. Muslims keep their women all covered up and have very specified roles for them. I think atheists are the most moral people out there. Atheists are the only people who have never killed in the name of a god, in other words, in the name of their moral code of conduct. Also, a large group of atheists with a common occupation have never had a pattern of touching little boys. And in the United States, athiests have the lowest divorce rate. The term "atheist" has such a negative connotation in American society. An atheist simply does believe in a god. The prefix a- means to be without, and theist means to believe in a god. Therefore, it does not mean "raper and killer of little girls and beater of old ladies with birds on their hats." Some Christians may call an atheist a "godless" person. This is true. Atheists are without god, but the connotation, not denotation, of the word godless in our society is an evil one, meaning a person lacking morals and void of any worth as a human being.

Moving on, I heard some more shitty language today. This time it was on a toothpaste commercial. The narrator said that 90% of "dental professionals" agreed on whatever she said. Dental professionals? You mean Dentists!?! C'mon, I swear to god (ha, that's funny considering the above) this type of language is everywhere. It is absolutely ridiculous.

I think I'm going to start sleeping in three 3-hour blocks everyday. From 4 am to 7 am, from 10 am to 1 pm, from 4 pm to 7pm. I'm considering this because I love naps so much that why not take three per day? I hate going to bed at night, there is always too much to do, and I hate waking up in the morning because I didn't go to bed at night so I'm always really beat. This nap thing could be the next Atkins Diet, it could go big. The 10-1 timeslot would be perfect if we had siestas like the geniuses in Spanish speaking countries have.

Hey, did anyone do any hump day humping? My day was surely hump-free. I'm just wondering what's going on with this hump day thing.

Oh yeah, I heard another great language thing in class today. My fascist-feminist teacher, who spells women with a y: "womyn," in order to take the "men" out of it, was talking about the wife in a relationship dieing before the man, saying, "What if the women predeceases the man?" I nearly laughed out loud, but I wasn't really paying attention 'cause I did my usual thing where I print articles out off the internet and read 'em in class. But seriously, predeceases? That's funny. I didn't mean to bash feminists up there by placing them with fascists. There are certainly feminists out there doing good, but there are also the feminists who give feminism the bad rap that it gets sometimes, the rap of being man haters. My Prof is certainly a member of the latter. That bitch sucks, to put it bluntly.

I have to write a cross-cultural report on an event I attended, such as concert. Enter Bad Religion. This should go quick, since I have 3,000 words on it in here already. I need to tailor it to meet the requirements that my lazy-eyed prof has laid out for us. She really does have a lazy eye, the debate goes on about which one is the good one. Very distracting.

You know what I love? Credit card applications that come in the mail and say "you're pre-approved!" A Credit Card is the last thing I need to be pre-approved for. Wait. Stop. Move the beans. Let's look at the word "pre-approved." Wouldn't being pre-approved mean you are not approved? Shouldn't they write "Approved-No Application Needed" or "You're Approved, Application Not Needed"? If you are applying for college and are in the pre-approval stage, you are currently not approved. I hate the English language. Anyway, there are many more things for which I would like to be "Approved - Application Not Needed." An example: girls. Wouldn't that be nice? If you were approved going in, you wouldn't even need to try. It would be perfect. Maybe girls should start sending out letters saying "Approved-No Effort Needed." Sign me up, Sweetheart! Or a job, just show up, start, get paid. No applications, no interviews, no hunting. Girls: Show up, get laid - Jobs: Show up, get paid. Sounds like a rap lyric. I wasn't even thinking about sex until I wrote the word "paid." "When I'm getting one, the other's getting away..." - Kanye West

Fuck. I just quoted Kanye West. Gun please. Pretty soon I will be on Kanye's Workout Plan. Get that tummy tight, blah, blah, blah... Kanye is overrated. His lyrics are cheesy. I'm going to do something so dumb right here that will totally negate my point on Kanye. I'm going to quote Jay-Z, another overrated rapper (in my minority opinion), Kanye West is definitely not "lyrically Talib Kweli." See what I did? I used a quote from a rapper I said was overrated to put down another rapper who I said was overrated. That's not good for debating purposes. Self-inflicted bullet hole in foot. Can't run with a flat tire.

Until The Next Time.

It is either really late or really either, depending on your perspective on the situation. For me, it is really late and I cannot sleep. I have music on the mind. I don't know why, it's a different thing every night that keeps me up: movies, politics, poker, religion, sports, friends and family, etc.

Music Tonight. So I thought would write a quick blog entry about music to try to relieve my mind of it so I can sleep.

So, As of now...

My Three Favorite Songs of All Time:
The Decline by NOFX
Let Them Eat War by Bad Religion
Shattered Faith by Bad Religion

My Three Favorite Non-punk Songs of All Time:
Jessica by the Allman Brothers
Teenage Wasteland by The Who
The Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel

Karaoke Song I am Most Likely to Sing: Tequila (haha)

Karaoke Song I Would Be Most Likely to Sing if I Could Sing:
Paradise by the Dashboard Lights by Meatloaf (Oh how that would suck for you not deaf people)

Song That I Would Erase From History If I Could: Love Shack by the B-52's

Band I Would Most Like to be in: Bad Religion, The Who (non-punk)

Favorite Singers: Greg Graffin (Bad Religion), Fat Mike (NOFX), Scott Radinksy (Pulley - I had to get a former pro baseball player in here somewhere), Meatloaf (C'mon, you gotta give it to him that he has a good voice, and had some nice tits in Fight Club), Roger Daltry (The Who), Billy Joe Armstrong (Green Day), Davy Havok (AFI), and Steve Perry (Just Kidding), Shannon Hoon (Blind Melon)

Favorite Female Singers: Tracy Chapman, Dolores Mary O'Riordan Burton (The Cranberries), Janis Joplin, Alanis Morissette, Maja Ivarsson (The Sounds)

Favorite Lyricists: Greg Graffin, Bob Dylan, Fat Mike

Favorite Person/Band I Haven't Repeated 10 Times So Far: Consumed, Dillinger Four, The Black Crowes, Nirvana, Rancid, Pennywise, Lagwagon, Paul Simon, Millencolin, Bob Dylan

The Hip-Hop Section(small but important):
Favorite: Talib Kweli
Song: Rush by Talib Kweli

Favorite Songs From Movies:
Everything by Simon and Garfunkel in The Graduate
Lookin' Out My Backdoor by CCR in The Big Lebowski
Jessica by The Allman Brothers in Field of Dreams
Mad World by Gary Jules in Donnie Darko
Plastic Jesus performed by Paul Newman in Cool Hand Luke
Ballroom Blitz performed by Crucial Taunt in Wayne's World
Tiny Dancer by Elton John in Almost Famous
Everything in The Blues Brothers
The Soundtrack from Road to Perdition

Alright, that sucked, cut me some slack; The Sun is rising. I'll add some links later.

Until I Get Some Sleep.

First things first, back to Saturday, I forgot to give credit where credit was most undoubtedly due, to Dean Furton and Casey Drake for their tag-team comedy act in the kitchen of the 213. They ought to take their act to Shee-nan's the Shithole on Wednesday night for Comedy Night. I can't wait to see it again.

Blogs are currently a big fad all over the place. Tons of mindless idiots, like myself, type up a bunch of random, stupid shit that only maybe 7 people give a shit about. But it's fun. It is also the natural progression of looking into the lives of other people, sometimes total strangers, and getting to know them. Look at the beginning of this type of thing, where did it start? It probably started when people, mostly historians, would read letters and correspondences written by people of fame a long ass time ago, people like Thomas Jefferson. Then we started seeing diaries and journals being published, most recently Phil Jackson's. After publishing people's letters, diaries, journals, etc., we moved to watching them on TV, thanks to the pop culture devil-vehicle that is MTV, via The Real World. And then of course the explosion of shitty reality TV shows. And now blogs. What will be next? Next you will probably see people video taping clips of their day on their cell phone, then uploading it on to some site where people can come and watch their day. It's a progression, but all the things that have happened in the past continue to happen today, along with the new ways to peer into the lives of people you do not know at all. We're all nosy fuckers, everyone out there would like to know what's going on in their neighbor's house, bedroom, and head. It's human nature I suppose, although "human nature" is a shitty explanation for something. Human nature is a cop out, an excuse - it's worthless. Look at human nature, why would you want to chalk up anything this phenomenon. We are animals, we have animal instincts. People are territorial, selfish, lazy, greedy, jealous, angry, irritable animals. Human nature is not always a good thing, I actually think it is never a good thing. Human nature is the equivalent to instinct, think about how many times your first instinct is a shitty idea. You see a guy push your friend, your instinct might be to kick his ass right away, when the situation can end in three seconds by just stepping between and taking your friend away. Human nature is pervasive, people always have to know everything that's going on. That's way we are.

When this world ends, I guarantee we will have planned our own demise. Why do I feel like I can make this guarantee? 1) We never learn from the past. "We" not being the royal we, but the plural one, all of us. We study history, we see what other people have done, yet people in all walks of life, and all governments, continue to make the same mistakes over and over again.
2) Religion will bring about the apocalypse. And I do not mean the Christian God will come down and make everyone vanish from the Earth and go to their respective eternal homes. I am talking about religious wars all over the planet, civilizations ending, people dividing. And don't think this is only a Middle-Eastern thing, the USA will be right on top of it all. George Carlin said it, God has been the biggest cause of death in the history of the world. The Crusades, The Holocaust, 9/11, George W. Bush - it goes on and on. Even into smaller events like David Koresh inWaco, TX - don't think that won't happen again. I am sounding very pessimistic here, but you have to see things the way they really are. The world works in cycles. All dynasties and empires have ended in similar ways. It goes back to nobody learning from the past or nobody having the balls the move away from the status quo, to realize that we are treading the beaten path now and all beaten paths have the same fatal end. We are living, as NOFX said, in decline, the victim of our own design. Anyway, unless it happens in the next four years, this won't happen for a long time. But I still think I need to get my ass in office someday. Anybody have aspirations of being a campaign manager?

I just got quad sixes in a poker game. Big Smile.

And I just won 50 bucks in a sit-and-go. If I were typing on AIM right now, I would send myself a big yellow smiley face. Just kidding, I hate those things. I don't mind when other people use them, but they aren't for me.

Going back to thinking about the next four years, isn't it astonishing how united the country seemed immediately after 9/11 and how it is so divided now? No, it isn't. Not at all. After 9/11, the country was as equally divided, we just didn't know it yet. The government and Alfred E. Newman, I mean George W. Bush, put the American people on a leash using rhetoric and careful language in order to get us all together for their war. When people started waking up from the brainwashing, the division became clear. Again to use a NOFX lyric, "we need a brain wash, grey matter bath." Notice that brain and wash are two different words in NOFX's lyric. So now we are split pretty hardcore. As a friend of mine said, "All the racist states are red." It is quite interesting to look at different maps of the USA concerning the election. When you look at a map of just the states, it is very red, but when you look at map that skews the country, making the heavily populated areas bigger, you get a different picture. Check it out, good shit.

Also, something interesting can be found to read at www.fuckthesouth.com. Read past the vagrant tone to find some interesting points.

Ok and then there is this, on ESPN.com's MLB page, there was a headline, referring to the fan who was shot while celebrating the Red Sox' World Series Championship, that read, "Boston Police: Cop who shot fan missed target." You think? That win's my award for most obvious statement by anyone in America. Are you sure he didn't aim for her eye? Then it goes on to say that the shooter was aiming for another person. Well that's good to hear. I'm glad we are aiming for these people with guns. What were these fans doing that was so bad? Did they knock over a city light? Great. Arrest 'em, fine 'em, don't shoot 'em. Also, the cop is currently on paid injury leave. Did he miss someone else and shoot himself? How about a suspension? If I was this girl's parents I would be irate. Ah, the system we live in, great isn't it?

Sorry if you get whiplash, but I'm going to abruptly change topics.

I miss baseball. I miss watching games everyday. But I love the off-season. And I hate the off-season. I hate it because Cristian Guzman signed with the Washington Franchise today. Dammit. Cristian, why not stay where you are comfortable, why move to a city that will be #1 on a terrorist's target list? Well, for money. Minnesota can't pay anybody because Carl Pohlad is Minnesota's richest and most frugal person. It sounds like the Twins have a good hitting SS prospect who also has throwing issues. And you know what? Doug Menaskdfnleastcz (yes, I spelled it correctly) isn't over there to save his ass anymore. I'm nervous. Your SS should be your best defender. In Minnesota, whoever they get, will max out at three on their team 'cause the won't find anyone better at SS than Hunter is in CF and than Rivas is at 2B. But I do love the off season, especially when I see that Yankee's owner, George Steinbrenner, was meeting with Pedro Martinez in Florida. Well, welcome to the darkside, Pedro. I just hope Rad Bradke doesn't end up there too.

Kevin Garnett tonight, kids, 25 pts and 21 rebs, does anyone in the league turn out more huge double-double games than him? Absolutely not. Good to see that, against a good team too.

Yes, I watched the Real World. Yes, I thought I was going to stab myself in the thigh with a meat thermometer. Yes, I hate myself for watching it. I didn't watch Laguna Beach, I was playing basketball. We won. Wooha. (You know how to read that.)

Until Tomorrow.

This I need to mention: I am not by any means smart in the arena of computer speak, so I until I get a little aid from the guy upstairs (not God, remember, I hate the idea of your God), I mean literally guy right above me, I am just going to post some contact info:

deetsblog@hotmail.com

AIM: Widmark15


Take Care and Thanks for Reading

I'm throwing you all the way back to Wednesday. Most days I can't remember what I ate for lunch, so wish me luck in re-visiting the most recent Hump Day.

Comments on the phrase Hump Day: 1) It is ambiguous. Wednesday falls on the hump of the week, right in the middle. Or maybe there is a more erotic tale of the phrase's history. 2) If people are humping on this day, could someone please include me? Thanks.

Now, moving from Humping to Drinking, which is odd 'cause more often nights begin with Drinking and then progress to the Humping. If we could only make a booze sandwich with the humping. When I say "we" right there, I am referring to me and probably maybe almost any willing member of the female demographic ages 18 (gotta keep it legal, not my favorite idea, but I hear you get a different kind of loving in jail) to anyone who appears to be relatively close to my age, 21, and who does not double my weight, so if you keep it under 400 pounds, sign me up. Better do it with a pencil though, 'cause I can't promise anything. Way off the mental track I had laid out for this thing.

Back to Wednesday, my friend Shana's 21st Birthday. Shana lives in a house with five other friends of mine and they were going to get a 1/2 barrel for the party to set things off right.

Brief Note: At parties where any kind of kegs are involved, the explanation of the difference between 1/4 barrels and 1/2 barrels must be given to at least three people, 90% of the time it being girls. The concept that you are just not going to have a full barrel at your house ever never quite sinks in.

So I show up at about 8:30, earlier than most. We do the prerequisite drinking games and calling "not it" on filling up the pitchers. I was the voluntary Pitcher Bitch twice. Shana, and another birthday celebrater, Shaggy, were sitting in and getting the bulk of the drinks given to them, as they very well should have expected. They are both chugging a good amount of beer and taking the occasional shot. Meanwhile, Tina, a housemate of Shana's, was not planning on drinking too much. Then she chugged a glass of wine during a waterfall exercise, after which she said something to the effect of, "Okay, let's get drunk!" Good stuff. More and more people begin filing in, breaking up the game, but that is fine with me. I am a better mingler than drinking game player. I never really pay attention, unless we're playing Hockey, in which case I'm always looking to give somebody an assist. So now we mingle. Shana is quite concerned about getting to Brother's to get her Birthday Mug. So I tell her I will make that trip with her before 12, since most others at the party are not 21. Those who are not yet of age will head to the local underage "any ID'll do" bar - Shee-nan's. So Shana, 4 other girls and me leave for Brother's a little before 12. In case you weren't paying attention, that's a good P to V ratio for me. We get her mug and split for The Nasty Habit Saloon (The Single Worst Bar That I Have Ever Been In), and Shee-nan's, also known as the slimy bucket of shit. The place eventually grows on you, literally and figuratively. At this point Shana is getting a little bit drunk (that was an understatement). Sensing her equilibrium may be a little off, she does some excellent leaning at Shee-nan's, being resourceful even while inebriated. I only helped her rush out the front door twice to visit the garbage can, which both times we checked was still there and the bag did not need to be changed. The city is using our tax dollars to keep it clean, good to see. So then I asked Shana to walk me home. She took hold of my arm to make sure I would make it alright. On the way, Shana noticed a black cat crossing ahead of us. She made sure it wouldn't curse us with bad luck by yelling that she hated it. I thanked her for keeping me safe from the superstitious demon. Then we saw a nice young woman across the street with whom Shana tried to get me a date. She yelled, "Hey, it's my 21st birthday!" trying to start up a conversation with this woman, after all, 21st birthdays are a great conversation piece and ice breaker. The woman would have none of it and she moved on. A few blocks later, Shana wanted to see if I could walk by myself so she let go of my arm and I unhooked mine from her's. After I didn't follow her to the grass and road, she grabbed my arm again so we could finish our walk together on the sidewalk. I think her having to walk a much bigger person home made her tired, 'cause she crashed pretty hard on her bed right away when we got home. Then we got a mixing bowl… moving on. All in all, it was a most excellent night, full of beer, booze, birthdays, laughs, and friends. What more can you ask for?

How about another birthday? Okay, so on to Thursday.

Perverted Tom turned 21 on Friday, so naturally we had to go out Thursday night at midnight, once referred to by my youngest brother as "night noon." Tom and his special lady friend (who shall remain nameless to protect Tom - just kidding, special lady friend of Tom's (she objected to me referring to her as the special lady friend, but I am not going to change, why? 'cause it's my blog and I think it's funny. Why is it funny? See The Big Lebowski.)) Anyway, Tom and his special lady friend were at some other friends' house for a while playing beer pong. I sat here drinking and doing the Thursday Night TV Report, still in shock from the Ray Liotta Primetime Drama Performance of the Millennium. I confess to making overclaims often, but this is not one. Read Thursday's entry. Then Tom came over with three friends - Michelle, Broe, and Dr. John, who is not certified as a Ph.D. or M.D. by any recognized board that I am aware of, - and his special lady friend. Then we headed to Water Street. On the way, I made an alcohol related threat to Tom, who hadn't been drinking very much yet, much to my dismay. Remember, I love obliteration. Tom conceded that he needed a light night 'cause he knew he was going to get hammered on the next time. I bought that and we headed to the G.I. (Grand Illusion), shockingly enough, a bar in which I had never been. We headed to the balcony and grabbed a couple booths. I dig that bar - good atmosphere, really nice change of pace and good music, not that pop shit you get everywhere else. We order some Delusions, their specialty drink consisting of Southern Comfort and a bunch of other shit that gives it a redish-blueish color and a really nice potency level. We had four of those or so and then I went to get Tom a shot. With Tom by my side, this convo transpired:

Me: Can I get a tequila shot for this guy?
Bartender: What kind?
Me: The cheapest shit you have.

I laughed. He drank, cringed, sort of thanked me and we headed on our way home. A fairly tame, but very fun night.

So now I have had two really fun nights and still have Friday and Saturday ahead of me. I am pleased.

Friday was Tom's real birthday, so Tom's Special Lady Friend (TSLF) (hey, I used capital letters that time) and I cahooted to throw Tom a surprise party. Our cahooting consisted of TSLF securing her house for the party (my roommates had to be up at 8:00 on Saturday to dribble and shoot, so no go at my place) and me getting a 1/2 barrel, some booze, and getting the people to show up. I like changing the form of the word "cahoot." Since neither TSLF nor I knew Tom's exact plans, we decided to play him as he went. I had the people show up a little before eight. TSLF and I had both been in contact with Tom earlier in the day and his temporary plan was to actually do studies until 7 or so, some big project or something. I don't know, I don't understand academic responsibility. So, at 8, I call Tom and he tells me he has just woken up. Huh? He fell asleep. I told him he had a 1/2 hour to shower and eat and I was going to be at his house to get him and take him to my place and begin to overintoxicate him. So, passing on responsibilities, TSLF went to get Tom at 8:30 with strict instructions from me to not start fooling around at Tom's apartment. They showed up at 8:45 and we all yelled surprise. Wooha. That "Wooha" was to be read with a slow, deep inner voice as to indicate something good but run-of-the-mill occurred. If you've been reading my blog, I instructed you on how to read one other Wooha. You are a vet now, but not in the militaristic sense. Two of our friends Scott and OB brought presents for Tom. Tom opened Scott's first, which was a pretty big box wrapped in newspaper and duct tape. Inside was the top of a fire hydrant, a broken fly swatter, a guitar pick, and some loose change. Kick ass. Next was OB's gift. OB was uber-proud of his gift, proclaiming that it took him four minutes to get and wrap. It was wrapped in paper toweling and duct tape. After removing the paper toweling, Tom found a Topper's Pizza box. Inside the heavily grease stained box was a an alarm clock from circa 1987, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoon, a box of Macaroni and Cheese, three potatoes, and a plastic man wearing just a red speedo - in other words, a bunch of shit. The public gift from TSLF was a set a bouncing boobs. No, not her own. They were rubber and set on some plastic feet and when you wound it up, they bounced around. If McDonald's really wants to go with Adult Happy Meals, this should be the toy in the bag. I don't know about the private gift from TSLF, but I'm sure it was good, and if not good, at least well-intended. My gift was a 1.75 liter bottle of Jack Daniels and a couple poster boards that read "Happy 21st Tom" and had some pictures of his drunk ass taped on. I also brought some markers so party-goers could deface Tom, or just sign their name.

Tom told me he was completely surprised, which means I at least got one thing right this weekend. Then at about 11:45, Tom, TSLF, and I headed for the bars. Our first stop was Brother's, for the mug, which Tom didn't even bother to get, but I did manage to get some T-Bombs, a Vodka-Red Bull (for Tom), and TSLF got matching his and her Mind-Erasers for the two of them. Then we moved on to the Pio, where we had to get some jag bombs and more drinks, nothing too bad so far...so far. Then we headed to the 66% populated with underagers, shithole that we go to every weekend that is Shee-nan's. This is when it was time for Tom to have the Three Wiseman, a Cement Mixer, some drinks and some other shit too that I forgot about by now. I was getting pretty drunk too, as I was taking most of these with him, (keyword: most) but he was taking the brunt of it. So then we headed for his place. Tom didn't do such a great job of walking. He took a real nice fall while urinating on TSLF's house. Then we headed back to his apartment, where he couldn't get the key in the door, so his SLF did it. Once inside, there was a fall, inexplicable shirt removal, vomiting, funny pictures taken by TSLF and me and then a great passout. Ah. How nice. Just how 21st birthdays are supposed to be. Drink too much but not so you die. I pat Tom on the back. He was a great sport and did very well, something he can be truly proud of and tell his grandbabies about one day.

Three birthday celebrations in a row. What could be next? What's left?

Saturday, that's what.

Fortunately for me, the keg that I got for Tom's surprise party was only about 3/5 finished. So, I walked across Water Smeet to get that and bring it back for a little shindig of our own that night. The basketball team had Sunday off and all I heard about all week was how excited these guys were to just get really fucked up.

Our night started out with the members of the 213 (my house) playing some poker and doing some of the alcohol intake that we all enjoy. The poker game was going on as most do, then I lost all my chips and the seed of a debacle was planted. I do not remember the hand I lost on, but I remember not being too disappointed, so I probably lost a race or someone pulled a turn card or river card out on me. This is not the point, the point is that I offer up the ideas of re-buys. They agree, citing a deep rooted longing to have us all bond at the same poker table for it had been awhile. So I toss in five more bucks and get 50 more chips. Game continued. By the time people started showing up at our house, I had bought back in twice more, Shane twice, The Rizz once, and Heed once. Now, when we were ready to call the game on account of our wanting to get shitfaced and mingle, Shane had just lost all his chips, The Rizz has 278, I had 155, and Heed had 45 of the chips. But we couldn't just split up the pot based on a percentage of how many chips each guy had. The Rizz had 58% of the chips, normally we might give him 58% of the pot and so on. We could not do that because of the re-buy factor, we had to give Shane a shot to buy back in if he wanted. We couldn't just give all the money to The Rizz 'cause he had the chip lead, because I still had plenty of chips to play and turn the tides of the game. So we fought about a solution for about 20 minutes. It wasn’t really a fight as much as it was a whole bunch theorizing and explaining. We eventually decided to write down all the stats and put the money in an envelope in my room and worry about it the next day. Well, the money and stats are still sitting on top of my computer. If you come into my house and take it, I will pull your esophagus out via your rib cage. Gruesome, I know, unwarranted, yes, but this is poker we are talking about. We will figure it out sooner or later.

So a bunch of dudes on the team and some other friends began trickling in and soon, at 6' 1", I was almost the shortest guy in the room by 3 or 4 inches. Things started getting wild. Guys were requesting shots. "Of what?" I asked. "Doesn't matter," they replied. So, I started pouring shots of vodka. Then I started pouring double shots of vodka. Then we finished the remainder of the keg. And all was well. Very well. With brotherly like ridicule of each other and ridiculous impersonations going on, we were all laughing extremely hard. We talked a reluctant dude into taking another shot and so we drank to peer pressure. We tainted the basketball teams' posters with markers, guys called girls that other guys didn't want them to call, then those girls came over to hang out. Just loads of indescribable fun. And then, just before night noon, we split for the Greasy Dive that is our Watering Hole, Shee-nan's. At this point, nobody even close to being remotely able to possibly be considered maybe relatively sober. The Rizz was leaning against a wall because his legs weren't working as they should have due to an overindulgence of alcohol. Heed's shirt was unbuttoned revealing no shirt underneath and his hair slicked back like some dude out of the 1950's, it goes on and on from that night. The Rizz was even uncharacteristically spotted passed out in his computer chair. He would later fall out, get back in, pass out again, then make it to bed. It's really too bad that nobody has a clear recollection. Heed summed it up really well today when he said that at practice they were trying to remember stories from Saturday night, but nobody could come up with anything. Job well done, all. It kind of goes the same way as the philosophical question, “If a tree falls in the woods and no is around to hear it, does it still make a sound?” If we were all really drunk and nobody remembers much of the later portion of the night, did we still have fun? Well Hell Yeah We Did!

I woke up on Sunday at 2:30 p.m., watched my Vikings lose on a last second field goal, then squandered the rest of my day away.

What a great four days Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were. This is what life is all about for people in my age bracket: friends, drinks, parties, football, poker, fun, laughs, stories, pranks, etc. (If you are 40 and have a family... HAHA)

Note to Randy Moss: Get Healthy.

Note to G.W. Bush: Oh where, oh where is your cabinet going? Good thing we’ll have a bunch of second choices holding office.

Note to new Secretary of State Cunnilingus Rice: (No note, I just wanted to write Cunnilingus Rice)

I feel like The Sports Guy. Word Count: 3,075

Until Later.

It is Monday night, 10:00, and I am playing in a $10 + $1, 10 player No Limit Hold 'Em sit-and-go table on Pacific Poker. I pick up some big pots early on with pocket Q's and pocket K's. Then I lose about a third of my stack when I hold the Jack of Hearts (JH) in my hand and the KH and QH are two of the four hearts on the board, giving me a flush, but Other Dude had pocket Aces, one being a Heart. He played very slowly, so I thought I had him but I didn't and he won. Oh, well.

Anyway, so six guys go down, two at the hands, or cards, of your's truly. There are four of us left. I am second in chips with about 2,000. The top three will at least break even. I am dealt pocket 7's on the button. The 1st position player calls the BB, which is 50, as we are playing 25/50 at this point. I raise 150 from my spot. Immediately after I did that I felt it wasn't enough. SB folds. Chip Lead in BB raises me 100. Itty-bitty little raise, which raises questions in my head. So, 1st position folds, I call. The flop looks good for me, 5-4-5. I like my two pair here, but I have a feeling he has a pair in his hand as well, or something like AK, maybe AQ. Chip Lead checks to me and I bet 500. I bet fairly small because I want a call and I want to feel him out on the turn. The turn is excellent, a 7, giving me sevens full of fives. Now even if he has a pocket pair, it doesn't matter, and I no longer need to worry about the heart flush draw that was on the board. He checks again. I have about 1000 left at this point. I bet 600. He calls. The river card is a Q. He puts me all-in, only 400 more, and just as he does that I know what he has. Pocket Q's. I call and lose. For a few minutes I kick myself for not playing that hand stronger, but then I realize that him, with 1000 more than me to start, is probably not tossing that hand away at anytime during the hand, no matter what I do. So such is poker and such is life. I finish fourth and down 11 bucks. I also loss 80 playing limit earlier this afternoon in a slow drip type manner, sometimes the ball just rolls to the other end of the court. I'll get it back, I'm not worried about that.

Until about an hour from now.