A Smooth Criminal

Last night, I ran into Patrick Bateman's in that town where Elaine Benes is from. And this trivia question pops up about Dick Gere movies and we were playing the game with Nana's crew and there is a guy with Nana's crew who is highly annoying. I cannot recall the guy's name, but it's not Mike or Tom (this is a good Tom, not the Tom who plays devil's advocate and studies his notes) - it's the other guy - the guy with the white mustache. So, this highly annoying guy with the white mustache comes over and says "Wall Street?" Later a question comes up about British monarchs and the highly annoying guy with the white mustache says "Louie?" Andy wasn't at the trivia last night. And I really needed him there, because Andy keeps this highly annoying guy with the white mustache away from me so I can think in peace for a minute. But that was not the case last night - at one point I had to tell the highly annoying guy with the white mustache "Could you please, please give me 1 minute to think before making any suggestions on answers?" And the good Tom (not the Lurch-like Tom) realized that I was getting frustrated and pulled the highly annoying guy with the white mustache away from me. We played really well (or I should say, I played very well - I was on fire). Geilfuss came out and was trying to participate and even he got into the act on the Dick Gere movies, because he said "Runaway Bride." And he was dead on there. But, I don't think I can go to Patrick Bateman's on Thursday again and help Nana's crew if that highly annoying guy with the white mustache is there, unless Andy acts as a buffer. The kid really comes in helpful in all sorts of ways. I did want to thank Nana's crew overall though, because they payed my, McGrain (Dan came through like a champion in helping figure out the last question), and Geilfuss' tab last night - which probably ran close to $25.

CONTEST ANNOUNCEMENT- Geilfuss is starting another new job today (the kid goes through jobs like Joe Biden goes through boner medication). And this time he's going to be out at the Bananabees on Padonia Rd strolling around and pleading with hideously ugly trivia teams to pay their tabs and get lost. And I wanted to take a moment and wish him well. And, for the 1st time ever, I am gonna start a contest on this blog. In the leave a comment section for today, I would like everyone to pick the date that will be Geilfuss' last day at the Bananabees on Padonia Rd. I am calling this The Day Geilfuss Stops Working at Bananabees Either Because He Quits, Gets Fired, Or Gets Laid Off Pool. The rules are simple - pick a date, first come first serve (so folks who check this blog frequently are gonna have an edge in that they will get their top choices), and unlike other pools, Geilfuss IS eligible to play (I would love to see if he quits on the day he picks in the pool just to win the pool). The prize is going to be the shot of your choice at the bar of your choosing (anywhere in the world except along Ritchie Highway). Also, I will sit in with the winner for a game of trivia anywhere in the world (again except anywhere on or near Ritchie Highway) and believe me, access to my brain during trivia can be very valuable. As far as where I would be leaning on a date in this pool - next Monday sounds about right.

UPDATE 6/27 - CONTEST CANCELLED. GEILFUSS ALREADY QUIT. He stayed one day.

I was out again in Linthicum Heights on Wednesday evening - no trivia out there I don't think. And I went into this place that's an old house. On the main floor is a sub shop, but in the basement of this sub shop is a bar. It's a big basement. And the decor is like something right out of Goodfellas (the part set in the late 50's/early 60's). The clientele in this joint is mainly guys between 45 - 65 who probably work at pretty decent blue collar jobs - they seem like good, decent, far right, Obama hating Americans. But this basement bar also is very popular with stewardesses from Southwest Airlines for some reason (Linthicum Heights is like 7 minutes from the airport and I'm guessing they have a compound of apartments for the stewardesses nearby). And there were 3 stewardesses in this basement bar the other night (I've been in the place a few other times and there are usually about 7-10 of them in there). So, I'm sitting at the corner of the bar and watching the rerun of the US/Spain match (possibly one of the 10 greatest accomplishments to occur in my lifetime by the way - in any field, not just sports), minding my own business and enjoying some indiscriminate lite beer. It got to be about midnight (I couldn't stay out too late, I had a big day of work ahead) and one of the stewardesses comes over to me and starts running her right hand through my hair. I don't like to be touched, but I let it slide for once, why? - because she had a skirt on that barely covered her ass, that's why. So, I didn't really say anything to her and then about 30 seconds passed and this woman said to me "I'm Donna and my friends dared me to come over here and run my hand through your hair without saying anything to you." I said "They dare you to do anything else?" Donna said "Not yet, but I'll let you know if they do." I said "OK, glad I could help with the dare. Normally I would start screaming at a woman if she pulled what you just did." Donna said "Well, I guess I'm just special then." So, Donna walks the 6 feet or whatever to the table she and these other stewardesses are sharing and sits down. I go back to watching the soccer match. Well just towards the time that Michael Bradley got unjustly kicked out of the match, this Donna woman comes back over to me and doesn't speak again, instead this Donna stewardess woman leans into my ear and sticks her tongue into it. And then I did flip out "Damn Donna! I've met some skanky stewardesses over the years, but this is pretty bad. What are they giving you for going through with this dare?" She said "Nothing." And then I kind of rethought the situation. I'm not a great fan of random stewardesses shoving their tongues down my ear, but I was in Linthicum Heights and she was somewhat not too undoable. So I said "You wanna go sit in that booth in the back?" And she was pretty eager to for some reason. She really was. So, here's my tip for anyone who happens to be in or around Linthicum Heights for some God-forsaken reason - go into the basement bar on Hammonds Ferry Rd, sit there, drink, and wait for some blonde stewardess from Phoenix to shove her tongue into your ear. If you do all these things, it's not the worst way to pass about the next 45 minutes that ensue. It's really not.

I saw where Barack Hussien Obama had some big TV event the other night to try and talk people into going along with socialized medicine. I didn't watch it, obviously. But I don't think he did so hot, because apparently ABC news people (who are in the tank worshippers of old Barry) kept having to prod him to give straight answers to people. And when ABC news folks are doing this, you know it's a bad performance. What old Barry was saying wasn't flying with any reasonable person who actually has health insurance, I'm sure. Most of the people are gullible most of the time, but when you tell even the most gullible of morons that they might be dropped from their private insurance by their employer and placed on a public plan to save money for the employer, that's gonna make the gullible, unwashed masses, very nervous. It should by the way. I would pay whatever penalty necessary to stay as far away as possible from any government run health care plan. I promise you that. And I'm not alone there. I guarantee you that as well. Old Barry is stepping way in the deep end by messing with people's health issues.

I was flipping around the old TV and came across some flick from the 70's starring Angie Jolie's dad (it was called Conrack if anyone cares). Anyway, it was a little melodramatic for my taste. Now, whenever I used to see Angie Jolie's dad, I thought of Ned Beatty squealing like a pig (obviously). But a few weeks ago, Angie Jolie's dad was speaking to some group about Barack Hussein Obama and he said this: "Beware false prophets." And I say "Amen to you, Angie Jolie's dad. You go with all your old Barry is gonna cause the end of the world silliness. Very impressive there." That's precisely the kind of crap that makes everyone who disagrees with old Barry look utterly ridiculous. Way to go.

I ran into Gary from Getting The Crabs last night at the trivia game. The last time I saw him (about a month ago) he was saying how he enjoys the blog and half lives vicariously through me and all my silly adventures. And I was just speaking to the guy who writes movie reviews in Chicago (and he needs a haircut - badly. So badly in fact, that I printed a list of salons and barbers in the Cockeyedville/Pantimonium/Blunt Valley area) and we haven't crossed paths in 4 months. And we were kinda talking about the same thing. He was saying it's kind of like you're there with me on all these silly adventures all over the place. And I think that's nice. I had no intention of that being the case when I started this blog back last November, but it's nice that it is the case (at least for some of you). Of course, it's my body that is paying the price - but that's ok. I always tell Andy, it's the cost of being in this business.

100th post is coming next - not sure when it will be up exactly, but should be by mid next week. I'm gonna be super busy at the beginning of next week, but should find some time. As I hinted at yesterday, I have a special feature planned.

Oh, and if anyone is coming down to the O's game tonight, you can find me, Andy, Geilfuss, and probably several other kids out in front of Sliders starting around 6:45. Andy is easy to spot, even in a crowd - look for the big kid (not sure if he'll be sporting the mohawk tonight or not) sweating up a storm and pouring beer on his head to stay cool.

Lastly today, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the death of the guy who put wine in a Pepsi can for the kid from Home Alone. And I'm not gonna make any crass comments or untimely jokes at the expense of the guy who put wine in a Pepsi can for the kid from Home Alone. Instead, I will tell you a story. I was out one time in like the spring of 1988 (I was 17). And I snuck into a place on campus called Purity (sounds like the name of a strip joint, come to think of it now) with a couple other kids. And it wasn't easy to sneak into Purity - it was underground. Anyway, what I remember is hearing Smooth Criminal for the 1st time. And people who know me, they know I'm not real big on dancing (unless I'm dead drunk, then all bets are off -depending where I am). So, what happened is that I liked Smooth Criminal so much that I went out on the dance floor part of Purity (for the people reading this who actually went in the place in the 80's or 90's - it was back by the enormous speakers) and I started moonwalking - and yes, I taught myself after seeing Motown 25 (I was 12). And for all of you who know me pretty well, a guy who is so good that he inspires me to actually moonwalk around in public (and I wasn't drunk at the time either, only probably a little lit), is a genius. And old Mike Jackson - he was a genius.

Annie are you OK?

So, Annie are you OK?

Are you Ok Annie?

You've been hit by

You've been struck by

A smooth criminal

I'm out - Peace. TBFH

A Quick Review of the Harry Pothead Series

Note - I have never seen any of the movies and of course have never read a book of any kind, much less a book for little kids. But, here it goes:

1) Harry Pothead and His Balls of Stone: I always wondered who turned his balls to stone and why. I imagine it would be tough for a like 11 year old to have balls of stone - unless it's a euphemism. In that case, I'm guessing it's about the kid kicking ass against Casper and other kid friendly ghosts.

2) Harry Pothead on the Chamber Pot of Secrets: I'm guessing it's about the dude taking a wicked dump. A dump he didn't anticipate taking too.

3) Harry Pothead is a Prisoner in the Ass of Kabam: Probably the smelliest of his adventures, because I'm guessing dudes named Kabam eat a lot of spicy food - laced with lots of curry.

4) Harry Pothead and the Crotch of Fire: I assume the name has something to do with him nailing his first redhead and he is so into it that he can't get enough of this red-hair tinged crotch.

5) Harry Pothead and the Border Near Phoenix: Probably about him fighting illegal immigrants along the Mexican border. Maybe getting help from Geraldo in this one?

6) Harry Pothead and the Mulatto Prince: A sweeping tale of his first gay experience - as he's drawn to a guy who vaguely resembles Barack Hussein Obama and thus has a torrid affair with the Obama looking type kid.

7) Harry Pothead is Deathly Shallow: A long, rambling look into how vain and narcissistic the kid is. He spends most of the book preening in front of the mirror a la Patrick Bateman in that movie starring Christian Bale.

Not much time here today. Sorry. But my 100th post is coming up here soon and I have something special cooked up.

Waking up from bad dreams and smoking cigarettes

The Menacing Looking Guy With Prison Tats

I was out at a little kid swim meet type thing for awhile last night (don't worry I was there because Mary coaches the kids, not to ogle young girls in bathing suits - I was worried Tom might be there for that purpose {he has good skin, remember?}). And I got a big bang out of it because the little little kids don't really do a specific swim stroke. They just kind of flail around trying to complete one lap of the pool. It's pretty amusing and I highly recommend going to one for like a 1/2 hour sometime. Also, they serve beer at this pool and Artie Donovan was holding court on his scooter type deal - so that was cool too.

Later at Zoo Station a trivia game broke out and it was an all TV themed game. We played pretty well. Anyway, Gramma Dave came over and we were discussing the issue he initially had with my depiction of him and his political views on this blog. And Gramma Dave admitted that perhaps he took my mindless ramblings a bit too seriously at first. He seemed relieved that there isn't any reason to disagree or argue with anything on this blog. Instead, Gramma Dave now just reads the thing (and hopefully chuckles from time to time) and moves on with his day. One interesting comment was made during this conversation about Gramma Dave's living situation. Now, here's the background you need to know. Gramma Dave was engaged to a really nice girl who I met 2 or 3 times last year. Well, at some point they broke off the engagement (it's absolutely none of my business as to why they broke up, but I'm guessing it's Gramma Dave's fault - I mean it has to be, right? I shouldn't and won't speculate as to the reasons for the break up. But I will say that this nice girl he was engaged to probably got tired of Gramma Dave's constant leftist political rants and could you blame her?). Anyway, the couple made the mistake of moving in together at one point and neither one of them could leave for some reason (they are both on the lease evidently). So, the bottom line (which is a great song by my man Mick Jones {not the Mick Jones from Foreigner}) is Gramma Dave is still living with this girl. What's funny is that he calls her his roommate. Of course, I call her what she is - his ex-fiance. Now at one point Gramma Dave was discussing his prospects for getting some kind of signing bonus for a new career he's delving into. And Andy made the comment that maybe with this windfall signing bonus, Gramma Dave can get his own place and move away from the ex-fiance, errr...roommate. Then Gramma Dave says, in a moment of heartbreaking candor, "I think she'd like me to move out." And then I said "Who can blame her?" Gramma Dave was laughing after that. You gotta give it to the guy - he's got a good sense of humor. He's one of the only leftist dudes I've ever met who I actually like.

I was back out in beautiful Lithicum Heights on Sunday afternoon and I was sitting at an Opal Wednesday's watching the soccer, golf, and the O's game. I was minding my own business as always (and to be honest Linthicum Heights is not exactly the kind of area where I really thrive - some scary people out there). To my left around at the front of the bar was this dude wearing a black wife-beater. He was menacing looking, with a goatee and tons of tats. The thing about his tats is that they were not done using color ink - which means one thing, he got his tats in prison. So, this menacing looking prison tat guy is sitting there and drinking Corona Lights for some reason (not what you'd think a guy like this would be drinking) and at the point that the US scored its second goal of the match, I yelled "YES!" - as I often do when the US or Arsenal scores a goal. And this menacing looking prison tats guy says to me "You one of those fairies that watches soccer, ain't ya boy?" And I said "What kind of fairy are you speaking of dude?" And the menacing looking guy with prison tats said "The faggot kind boy." And I said "Well, seeing as how you're covered in ridiculous looking prison tattoos, I'm guessing you have some experience in that field." This dude said "You know, I did what I had to inside. I ain't no ashamed o that, boy." And I said "I bet you did my man. I bet you did what you had to do, as you so gracefully term it, often. I have just one question for you - pitcher or catcher?"

I was eating lunch with some colleagues earlier and one lady started talking about the hot dog eating contest they have in Coney Island on July 4th. And she was wandering how one person could handle all those hot dogs in 10 minutes. So, I decided to ask this lady "How many hot dogs do you think you could handle in 10 minutes Sandy?" And Sandy says "Oh, wow. Geez. Maybe 4 hot dogs if I was really craving hot dogs and just ravenous with hot dog hunger." And I said "Well hell, if that's the case, you might as well wander over to Nursery Road in Linthicum. You could make 20, 30 bucks for shoving 4 hot dogs down your throat in 10 minutes. They might be crooked and disease riddled, but you know, money is money. Oh, and one more thing. If you do decide to go down to Nursery Rd in Linthicum and hawk your wares as it were, beware of a menacing looking guy with prison tats, because he might request a little anal action."

A lady I work with was just telling me about her brother in law, who is a character actor. He's been in lots of movies and hundreds of different TV shows. He always plays a nerdy guy. In fact, this lady I work with told me he played Mr. Dewey on Saved By The Bell. And I asked very quickly "Is there any way he can get me Kelly Kapowski's number?"

I saw where Barack Hussein Obama has been going golfing just about every week here recently. And I have no problem with that at all. I'm sure it's relaxing and somewhat therapeutic for him. The reason I bring it up is this - when old W went golfing, the press crucified him for it. In fact they ripped him so bad for golfing that he gave it up in like 2003. But old Barry goes golfing and all you see from the press is how cool he looks and how awesome he is to get out with his buddies and play 9 or 18. And again, I point out the double standard. It's pitiful.

I also saw where the late night comics are really struggling with making any jokes at old Barry's expense. In fact, they are still making fun of old W, even though he's been laying low the past 5 months - he's barely said a word. Yet, more jokes have been told about old W then old Barry the past 5 months. Curious, huh? And this is just one more on top of one more example of how the media worships old Barry - he truly is their messiah.

I'm gonna leave you with this today - someone asked me what the other story was about Lon Dicks (the kid who used to stare at me back in school with a raging boner - see post from last week about soccer camp in Ada, Ohio). Here it goes: Lon Dicks had what appeared to be a harelip when I first met him. Well it turned out that he didn't have a harelip. He was riding his bicycle one day when he was around 14 or 15 and he ran into a parked car - yes, a PARKED car. It busted up his lip pretty bad. So, the doctors took a skin graft FROM HIS BUTT and did the best they could to make the kid's lip look normal. Now, the thing that always amazed me was this, if such a thing happened to you, would you ever tell high school boys the story? Would you ever admit that you ran into a parked car and, as a result, you literally had a butt-face? That's how stupid the kid was. He was inviting everyone to call him Buttface. And Lon Dicks couldn't be too sore about it because, well, it was absolutely 100% accurate. That's all you really need to know about Lon Dicks.

The horses are on the track

A Jacoby Does Work On Lesbian Hairdressers

Well the golf has finally ended. I didn't get a chance to see today's conclusion, but I enjoyed the fact that the Tiger was once again left in the dust - this time by some kid who had one victory in his entire career coming into the tournament (the Tiger has 67 wins - and that just includes official PGA sanctioned events). But the main thing about the golf was the coverage on NBC. It reached an all time low. Johnny Miller was, as always, a tedious gasbag (the only fun part about listening to Miller is that everything he says can be construed as sexual innuendo {he's always mentioning balls, shafts, nozzles, putters, holes, explosions, etc} - in fact I mentioned this to Andy Friday afternoon and I think I ruined him on listening to Miller with a straight face from now on too). But Saturday NBC decided to let Al Roker do weather updates with that midget Bob Costas all day. And they were insufferable. Roker kept promising that play was about to stop and yet they went all the way to 7 at night before they stopped it. Pitiful. Why give updates to the folks watching about how a stoppage in play is imminent? Let's just keep watching until the USGA officials blow the horn to stop it. That way no one is constantly annoyed by Roker and that midget Costas' silly "banter" and we can see more actual golf shots too! At least the tournament ended well today. So that's something at least.

I was visiting with a sometimes reader of this blog on Saturday. And this particular sometimes reader has never had the fortune (or should I say misfortune) of meeting Geilfuss. This sometimes reader asked me if the stories involving Geilfuss accurately reflect the reality that is the Real Geilfuss or if I occasionally take poetic license with stories involving Geilfuss. And I answered this sometimes reader this way "Well Beth, I'll be totally honest with you. If anything, I don't go into nearly all the negative detail I could about Geilfuss. If you can believe it, I cut him some slack on my blog. I'm really doing the kid a big favor." This sometimes reader said "Well, maybe I don't want to meet him then." I said "If you do ever meet him, and I can arrange that, bring along a pair of men's shoes for the kid, because he's likely to lose a pair at the drop of a hat on any given night." This sometimes reader said "Aren't you exaggerating about Geilfuss losing all these pairs of shoes?" I replied "You have no idea. I can't even wrap my mind around it. It hurts my head too much. He lost another pair last night at a 3 kegger in Salisbury." This sometimes reader said "Oh my!"

I saw where there is some revolution type deal going on over in Persia somewhere. I have no idea - I stay away from the news as much as possible. But what I heard about this Persian revolution deal is that Barack Hussein Obama referred to the fake leader of whatever country it is as "Supreme Leader." Now that strikes me as a term that only a strong believer in this fake ruler would use, a person who might be trying to hide his real intentions from his worshippers, err...followers. In fact, it seems reasonable to think that by calling this fake Persian ruler "Supreme Leader," old Barry is giving us all another indication that he really is a hard core Muslim, not a follower of that African wizard guy from Chicago.

Oh, speaking of Persians - when I was talking to that same sometimes reader Saturday (the sometimes reader who opined about Geilfuss' realness), we got to talking about how if you ever date a Greek girl, what inevitably ends up happening after you break up with them is that you date a Persian girl next. The reason I know I'm right about that is that the sometimes reader admitted her brother had the same experience. I don't know why this is the case, but I feel like it's 100% accurate. After you've done a Greek, you always move on to a Persian next. It's uncanny.

Mary was evidently driving by the building where I have an office last Wednesday and I got a text that said she was gonna wave to the building as she passed by. So, I texted back and said that I'd walk over and talk to the building about waving back. Now, being that I try to keep a promise, what I did is walked over and spoke to the building; I said "Building, when Mary drives by you, she is gonna wave. And I want you to wave back. OK. You got me there building?" But the building didn't answer me. The building was pissing me off. So, I told the building that I was gonna have the woman who runs the whole operation here give it a stern talking to about waving back to someone driving by. And I did. I sent the woman in charge of the whole operation an email and told her in no uncertain terms how unhappy I was with this no wave back policy that the building had adopted. In fact I called the building mutinous for not waving back to Mary. So, hopefully the woman in charge of the whole operation can get through to the building and talk some common sense into it. The reason being is that the next time Mary drives by the building and waves, I don't want Mary to get upset that the building did not wave back to her. I'm doing everything I can to get this no waving problem rectified. I really am.

I ran into the Jacobys last Thursday at Get Bent Lounge (all of them were out for once). And my man Mark was hitting on these 2 hairdressers down the bar a ways. So, Andy had some shots sent down to these hairdresser girls, but had them sent courtesy of Mark. Andy wanted to help Mark out in his quest for these 2 hairdressers (he's nice that way). We were all surprised and impressed to see a Jacoby doing work. In fact, Geilfuss was so amazed I thought he was gonna pass out at the site of the whole tawdry scene. After awhile I stumbled down to the part of the bar where Mark was doing work on these 2 hairdressers. And at one point I asked one of these hairdressers "Do you do guys or just women?" And one of them answered me "We only do women." And I turned to Mark and said "I think you're wasting your time dude. These chicks are admitted lesbians." Mark about fell over laughing at that point. One of these hairdressers followed me outside to bum a smoke and I have no recollection of what she said at all (I'm afraid I was a bit in the bag). But, I did take notice to the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra and her nipples were protruding at me like, well, big protruding nipples. And when I went back inside, I told Mark that he made an excellent choice on the girls he was doing work on - wonderful except for the fact that they only do women part anyway. And that might be an important lesson for Mark as he moves forward doing work in the future. If he's gonna delve into that world, a world that many of us know all too well, he's gonna have to learn to stay away from lesbian hairdressers; unless of course he can talk them into a threesome. If Mark accomplishes that; well, I say, more power to him. Rock on Jacobys.

Earlier last Thursday Andy, Tyson, Dan, and I were out playing the trivia at Bar Pig Suey. And we pulled out an epic victory. We were down and they asked questions involving Shakespeare, Sherlock Holmes, and Mick Jagger eating a Mars bar out of a vagina. And we nailed all 3 to take the lead (even though I've never read any Shakespeare or old AC Doyle or anything else, I occasionally woke up in English class and heard other students babbling on about old Billy and Andy knows about Sherlock Holmes, he's read every story). Even Tyson got into the act at one point, as he got a question right about the host of the Country Music Awards. So, we were up going into the final and I won't give away the question they asked, but I will say this - it involved Spanish royalty and I was the only person in the whole damn bar who figured it out. It was fun. We'll be back again soon I imagine.

I was watching this movie with Steve McQueen last night. It was directed by the guy who also directed The Sound Of Music. And I'd never seen the thing before. But the lady who was so good in Carnal Knowledge was in it (not Ann-Margret, the other one). And this lady was probably like 19 when she filmed this movie with Steve McQueen. And she was pretty striking looking. She really was.

Keith sent me an email with some lyrics in it and wanted me to guess the song or the artist or something. And I obliged him. I think he enjoys trying to figure out the song I quote at the end of each post, that and trying to figure out how the picture each day might relate to some mention in the post. And if readers enjoy it, then that's cool. You can lie and tell others that you're exercising your brain as you read this blog - although we all know that's utterly ridiculous.

Hyena crawls on his belly out

Half-Assed Post Due To The Golf

I am happy to report that the ballgame went down without a hitch on Wednesday night. And I have my bobblehead. I'm not sure yet what I'm gonna do with the thing exactly. I'll probably put it on my desk, right next to a Pat Sajak bobblehead some repulsive woman I used to work with gave me last year (they were giving them away at something called a Bowie Baysox game evidently - I have no idea why). I'm certainly not much of a fan of Pat Sajak. But I like bobbleheads, so I kept the thing.

I'm having a terrible time concentrating on writing at the moment, because the golf is on and these guys are tearing it up right now (it's 1:15 on Friday). I don't think this is gonna be much of a post. Sorry to everyone.

I was watching a movie over last weekend on the HBO2 that featured the girl who won an Oscar for playing a boy and Gerard Butler. In this movie Gerard Butler dies and like a month later starts having these letters sent to his widow (the girl who won an Oscar for playing a boy). I didn't really get the point of the movie at all. And Harry Connick Jr. and Lisa Kudrow were in it too and I have no idea why because the parts were terribly underwritten (so was Kathy Bates' part). The whole thing left me very puzzled. But the girl who won an Oscar for playing a boy is pretty much always watchable (much like Obi Wan Kenobi). Speaking of Obi Wan Kenobi, there was also a movie on last Sunday that featured both Darth Vader and Mace Windu and it was utterly preposterous - I think it was called Humper. Mace Windu, once again, cashing a paycheck in total garbage. He's a master at it.

Got a lot of stories but I'm gonna stop and watch the golf. I'll get to the new stuff soon (maybe if there's a rain delay tomorrow for the golf).

Two sides to every story

Somebody had to stop me

I'm out - TBFH

Old Howard Walks Into A Bar...Slowly

I ran into the Charred Pork Bucket Monday for awhile and it was awful, as always. And yes, the Old Drunk Guy was there and he was actually eating a salad and seemed relatively not too drunk. Anyway, another old timer came in about the time I did and sat down a few spots to my right. And this guy is in really bad shape - I believe his name is Howard, as if anyone reading this cares what his name is. Old Howard walks really slowly - I've observed Old Howard leaving the joint before and it takes him like 5 minutes to walk from the front door of the restaurant to his car that is always parked in the crippled spot about 25 yards away. In other words, he doesn't get around real well. So, after he takes forever to walk to the bar stool and get himself situated, he pulls out four $1 bills. Now, he's probably been coming into the joint several times a week for like 30, 40, 50 years or more. So he should know how much a drink costs. But Old Howard proceeded to get into a 3 minute conversation with this Asian looking bartender chick about what he can get for $4. I started to consider feeling bad for the Asian looking bartender chick after she'd run through like 5 liquor options and then I realized that she has to do this probably like 4 times a week with Old Howard, and I really did feel sorry for her. Eventually he got some kind of scotch for like $3.50 and, yes, he kept the change that the Asian looking bartender chick gave him. A few minutes later Bob came on behind the bar(I think they switch shifts there at 6) and Old Howard got into a conversation with Bob (readers may recall my general disdain for Bob from past posts) and it was awesome to listen to (not a good awesome either). They started to talk about how much they hated soccer. Old Howard was really angry that the US/Italy game had been on TV earlier in the day. In fact at one point, Old Howard proclaimed that he'd rather watch hockey players skydiving than soccer (I didn't quite figure out how one had anything to do with the other) . After another minute of Old Howard and Bob going on about how neat it would be to watch Wayne Gretzky get crosschecked at 20,000 feet, Old Howard turns my way and asks this "You know what I mean young man, I wanna see something with some action!" I said "There's always midget lesbian porn." Even the old drunk guy was laughing at that one and he almost never gets anything I'm saying (admittedly I'm esoteric and he's old and drunk, so...). Luckily, Andy came in soon after that and saved me from hearing Old Howard and Bob venting about soccer and fantasizing about watching midget lesbians do Alex Ovechkin with 2 strap-ons. Oh, and when Old Howard finished his scotch, I was hoping and expecting he'd leave, seeing as how he had like 37 cents on him. But no, the Old Drunk guy bought Old Howard another round. So, Andy and I are chatting about this and that and there were 4 kids to our left probably in their mid 20s (right around Andy's age or a little older maybe). And these guys started talking about fantasy football. And I hate fantasy football (I'll explain why sometime). They are going on and on about Lee Evans being a #2 now that T.O. is with the Bills. I mean like for 5 minutes. I was about to start screaming, because to my right Old Howard and Bob are babbling mindlessly about hating soccer and loving strap-on hockey player/lesbian midget action and to my left these kids are going on and on about Lee Evans potential fantasy value this season (I won't even bore anyone by going into what these 4 guys were saying about Trent Edwards, who one of them called Trent Green at one point). And I said to Andy "I gotta quit coming into this place. It drives me crazy in here." So, I can officially report: The Charred Pork Bucket - it still sucks.

Later Monday we were playing trivia out at Zoo Station with Luke from the Jacobys. We played really well by the way. Gramma Dave, who is running the game as usual, comes by and I ended up having Andy give Gramma Dave the address to this blog. And that might have been a mistake. What happened is Gramma Dave read the post about our discussion covering socialized medicine and took, as old Mrs. Rummer might say, umbrage. I feel a little bad because if you go to the post from last week where I talk about the conversation, Gramma Dave has a comment on the post. And on the comment he links to his blog where he responds to what I wrote. And he wrote like 2,000 words or something. I didn't actually read beyond the first 2 sentences because I have a short attention span and what he was saying was making my head hurt (it appeared to be all pie in the sky do-gooderism silliness from what I could gather). But I do wanna say one thing to Gramma Dave: don't take what I write too seriously. Also, Geilfuss got in the act as well and left some comments taking, again as old Mrs. Rummer would say, umbrage with my descriptions of some of the events that occurred at the O's game last Friday. And I won't even respond to them, he should know better. So, let me say this - if people want to start leaving a bunch of comments on this blog, cool - go right ahead. But please don't take anything I'm writing too seriously. I certainly don't.

Tonight they're doing some bobblehead giveaway at the old ballpark. And I'm gonna meet Andy and Mcgrain down there and if anyone is bored or if there is an extended rain delay, stop in Sliders, we'll be around there out front. I am a big bobblehead fan myself. In fact I have one on my desk right now and it is a bobblehead of my main man, Secret Squirrel. I also have one of Astro Jetson somewhere in Greensboro; why? Because Astro Jetson pretty much encompasses everything that is good in the world. Which isn't much, unfortunately.

They were showing The Dark Knight the other day on the HBO and I'm not the biggest fan of the thing. I went to see it in the theater around Labor Day last year and I thought it was too long and the dialogue was utterly stilted and there were a couple of holes in the plot. I liked the whole Hobbs/Locke aspect of it though. The only problem with that is that in the movie Locke wins when the folks on the ferry boats don't blow each other to bits. And that is just too unbelievable for me. I'm a Hobbs guy all the way, obviously. After seeing it again, my thoughts are pretty much the same. Although Christian Bale is pretty funny as Bruce Wayne. I think he's riffing off his performance as Patrick Bateman when he's Bruce Wayne, which is a good thing, believe me. And if anyone hasn't seen American Psycho, I highly urge you too. Christian Bale is awesome in it.

Situation no win

Getting Flashed By Hick Band Camp Girls In Ada, Ohio

I was at this soccer camp one time in August of 1988. It was being held in some god forsaken town called Ada, Ohio. There couldn't have been more than 3 stop lights in Ada. There is a school there called Ohio Northern University - I believe their nickname is the Polar Bears (although I did not see one polar bear walking around the campus the entire time - which was disappointing for me, but it was August and it was Ohio and that meant it was 95 degrees and humid every day - probably not conducive to attracting many polar bears). Ohio Northern is where this soccer camp was held. And it was one of the most bizarre weeks of my life - which I realize is really saying something. There were 3 different schools' boys soccer teams at this camp. The old Wellington School probably had about 20 or 25 kids there.

The first thing was the dorms - they were not air conditioned. And I'd never stayed a night in my life anywhere without air conditioning (except camping trips) that I can recall. My roommate was this kid named James Gore. He was a menacing looking guy. While pretty bad at soccer, he was a nationally ranked guy in jujitsu or one of those Asian deals (actually James was kind of half-Asian himself or something, I never asked him about his parentage I don't think). James and I were never really close friends or anything in school or on the soccer team, but I was sure glad he was my roommate and I'm gonna explain why now. There was a kid 1 or 2 classes below my class in school named Lon Dicks. And I'd had an issue with Lon Dicks the previous school year. I had a health class with him (I have no idea why they made us take health by the way - and I about vomited watching the video in health class where some brunette woman with a way too hairy vagina gives birth - disgusting). What Lon Dicks would do sometimes in this health class is stare at me - for like 5 to 7 minutes straight. I had to keep telling him to stop it. But worse than the staring was this - Lon was straining his torso area hard against the table he was sitting at while staring at me. And this led me to believe that Lon Dicks had a massive erection when he was staring at me in this health class. And everyone who knows me, knows that I don't get freaky like that. So, bearing in mind that I'd already had an issue with Lon Dicks the previous school year (he would also try and guard me in basketball practice when we would scrimmage the JV and he was really sweaty and smelly and grabbed me any chance he got when I had the great misfortune of wandering under the hoop - Gross.), his dorm room was down maybe 2 from James' and mine. And I distinctly remember the first night we were there, I got up and went out into the hall to go over to the bathroom and sitting outside the dorm room door staring straight ahead in near total darkness at the dorm room door was Lon Dicks. I told him to go to his room and that he was really freaking me out. So the 2nd night passes and I didn't get up to go to the bathroom. I actually slept OK (probably from being dead tired from the camp). So, I don't know what Lon Dicks was up to that night. But the 3rd night, really late, like around 3 maybe; I wake up and turn over. And what do I see standing right over me inches from the bed? It's Lon Dicks. Now he wasn't naked - he had on some type of shorts. He dashed out too quickly for me to discern what his level of arousal was when I awoke. To be honest, I was half worried that I was having a dream. So I said something to James and he answered and I said something like "Lon Dicks was just in here staring at me." And James answered me. So I knew I wasn't dreaming. And James' answer was "I'm gonna kick his fucking ass when I get the chance." The next day Lon Dicks was denying he did it all over the place. And I don't think I ever worried about Lon Dicks again, because James scared the hell out of him that day. It was very fortuitous for me to end up with James Gore as my roommate that week, because with him being a martial arts bad ass and all, once he struck the fear of God into Lon Dicks, my life was a little easier. Because it's no fun being stalked by a 16 year old cro-magnon looking dude who stares at you all the time and gets all grabby when you're practicing basketball. It's really not. (Note - there's another story about Lon Dicks that I will try and remember to tell at some point. It's ridiculous.)

The 2nd thing about this soccer camp was the cafeteria situation and the almost brawl that resulted from the cafeteria situation. First here's how me and 5 other guys got banned from the cafeteria for several meals. As I said earlier there were 2 other soccer teams there at this camp. There was also a band camp going on across the campus. And it seemed like there were over a hundred kids at this band camp. And they were hicks. Let me just put it like this - almost every member of whatever band or bands attended this camp had a Joe Elliott Band t-shirt (this was when Hysteria was still the most popular album of the year) they wore at some point and all the guys at this band camp had mullets (mainly the Kentucky Waterfall if memory serves). Now, there were several guys at this camp from our team who got bored easily and didn't always direct their boredom in the most positive direction. What happened was that about 6 of us started throwing food over at the band camp people - it never escalated into a food fight because none of the band camp kids would fight back. I was aiming jello at as many girls with the big 80s hair as possible. I think my friends were doing similarly. So this goes on for several meals and we get warned and warned and warned to stop throwing food at these band camp kids. But, we didn't stop. So, what the bad camp leaders worked out with our coach is that we were banned from the cafeteria for like 3 meals. We ended up eating at a Hardee's nearby or a DQ I think. So, the animosity has kind of built up between the 6 of us throwing the food and the band camp kids and their leaders. The last night we were there we decided to walk over to the band camp kids' dorm area and taunt them. And the story gets a little complicated at this point as my memory is a little fuzzy on the details exactly because it happened 21 years ago. But here is what I definitely recall- 1) Getting into a fight with some of the mullet haired hick boys that didn't last very long because the band camp directors broke it up (I never even threw a punch myself as I was trying to convince David Kaucheck not to run away from the fight and before I knew it the whole thing was over). 2) Being lectured/threatened by some guy who was the band director. The reason I remember this is because as the guy was giving us hell, I casually answered to him, when he basically asked why we had to be such preppy assholes: "I'm sorry sir, but we're bored as fuck in this awful place and I take exception to you calling these other kids assholes..." And why I remember this so clearly is because after the band director guy took off Morgan Howie and Larry Forlenza were going on and on about how I so naturally used the word fuck with this person of authority. I don't know how we didn't get into any trouble for this. There were no consequences at all. I mean we were pretty stupid, trying to pick a fight with like 50 guys and there were 6 of us. 3) This is what I remember most of all. About 10-15 minutes after the band director guy went into his dorm, we were still standing out there in front of the band dorm and trying to get some of the band camp girls' attention. Several dorm rooms of girls noticed us and we were yelling for them to sneak out and they were yelling down to us that the dorm had been put on lock down by the people running the band camp. So, what happened next is the girls kind of moved away from the windows and then when they came back in front of the windows, about 8 of them started taking turns flashing us. I was standing there with Rob Mason and Morgan as this was happening and we just started laughing. It was the 1st time I'd ever seen that many hick tits at once. The show went on for several minutes until some woman in charge of the girl campers caught them and made them stop. I had no idea that girls at band camp were so wild (remember that this predates American Pie by 11 years). If I had known about band camp girls we might have spent the previous nights out in front of their dorm trying to get them to sneak out. You couldn't have blamed us.

The problem at that point of the evening was that it was still only like 10:00. So, since this was our final night in wonderful Ada we decided to wander out to the main drag and flag down some local girls riding by. It didn't take long until there were 6 of us and 4 of these country girls all crammed into/on some kind of Chevy Chevette (I was on top of the hatchback thing myself - which is slightly dangerous I guess). They found some joint to buy some beer and the rest of the night is pretty blurry. I think I spent most of the time trying to convince Dave to have more than 1 beer. I don't think we got back to the dorm until 3 or so. I do wonder why our coach (his name is escaping me) was so lax about letting the 6 of us do whatever we wanted that week. It wasn't like free reign/no rules were extended to all the seniors or anything (only 3 of us were seniors, 2 were juniors, and one kid was a sophomore). I have no idea.

As far as how the actual soccer went, we didn't get much better evidently from the camp because we had a miserable season. I think we won like 6 or 7 games and lost or tied like 11 or 12. Me, I ended up getting benched at one point in the season for 2 or 3 games- girl problems, obviously. My head wasn't in it there for awhile that fall.

Also, August 1988 was the 1st time I heard the name J Danforth Quayle (my main, main, main man). And the album that I ended up listening to almost continuously at one point 2 summers later in 1990 was really getting popular and it contains these lyrics on the last track-

I'm a sexual innuendo

In this burned out paradise

I'm Out- TBFH

Andy Heckles An Outfielder In A PG Rated Way

Remember, just when things look bleakest, it's important to remember this - things are gonna get worse. Way worse.

I was stumbling around outside Sliders last Friday night after the O's game (they finally lost when I was in attendance). It was about 10:30. And Geilfuss was standing next to me and he was lit. I don't know why he brought this up, but he said to me "You know how when you are at a laundromat trying to kill time?" I said "Yep." He said "A great idea would be to open a place that was half laundromat/half bar. Don't you think?" I told him "Yes. It is such a good idea that there have been places like that around for decades." Geilfuss said "Oh."

When we were inside the ballpark, Andy decided to heckle ____ ______(who was playing outfield for the Braves). Now, Andy kept his heckling at a PG level, as there was a young girl 2 rows down with her mother and grandmother or her mother and her mother's lesbian lover (believe me, I was tempted to ask which was the case). And so Andy is yelling things like "Your shoes are untied ________." And then Andy threw this one out, "Your mother doesn't love you ________." Now, there were 2 kids sitting behind us, and these dudes were hammered (this is like the 7th inning). And these guys were enjoying Andy's heckling and they were cursing up a blue streak about _______'s mother doing this and that and speculating on her sexual partners of choice. So, I kind of turned toward these dudes and casually said "I bet she fucked William Jefferson Blythe." And the 2 kids behind us are laughing or whatever. And the mother of the young girl turns around and she was not happy with me for using the word fuck. Now, what I did is calmly apologize that I had soiled her daughter's virgin ears and told her that I wasn't heckling or anything, I was just making a comment to these drunk dudes behind us. And then I asked her this "What was your expectation tonight? You come to an O's game on a Friday and there are over 30,000 folks here. About a third of them have been drinking heavily. And you know there's gonna be cursing in this environment. So, what's the shock here? You can't possibly be that naive." I don't really remember if she said anything to that. Then Andy started talking to her, which was a good decision on his part, because if I had kept talking to her it was highly likely I'd have told her something to get us thrown out. Which in retrospect might have been a good thing, because the O's stunk it up with men on base the whole game. Pitiful. Thank God for Natty Boh's.

Also Geilfuss was going on and on about a handwritten sign out front of Sliders that was promoting their specials for the evening. At the top it said 2 beers $5. Then below that it said 24 ounce Pabst Blue Ribbon $3. Then below that it said Natty Boh 2 for $4. Then below that it said hot dog 1$. And Geilfuss was very concerned about this sign. He wanted them to change it because he felt like the 3rd line contradicted the top line. Andy, Dan, and I spent like 10 minutes trying to get him to understand that all the sign was saying is that ALL beers EXCEPT 24 ounce PBR and Natty Boh's were 2 for $5. The sign was simply clarifying that there were some deals beyond the normal deal. And one of them was the extra special deal for Natty Boh's only. Geilfuss never could come around to seeing our point on that. Instead his idea was this - if he was bartending outside at one of these beer hut type things and someone ordered 2 Boh's, he would charge them $5 and pocket the extra buck every time. And it's at this point that someone pointed out that this train of thought could be why Geilfuss has been through hundreds of jobs in his life. I think he conceded that we had a point on that. The reason I think he conceded that we had a point is because he said "You make a good point there."

Lastly on this game experience, I am disappointed to report that Geilfuss did not wear the same homemade Wieters jersey as 2 weeks ago - the one that had devastated misspelled as devasted. What he did is remade the whole homemade jersey from scratch and he did spell devastated correctly this time. I didn't think it was as cool or nice as the homemade Wieters jersey that misspelled devastated as devasted, but that was just my opinion. On a brighter note, we were not hit on by any alien looking skanks from Frederick this time. So, that's something at least.

I spent pretty much all day Saturday and Sunday sitting around the hotel watching movies and sports. And there was one chick flick on TBS Saturday that I watched starring Cameron Diaz and that girl from Don't Tell Mom The Babysitter's Dead. And I wasn't too impressed with Cameron Diaz in this movie, but I found the girl from Don't Tell Mom The Babysitter's Dead to be very charming and appealing in this movie. She's an underrated actress. It's a shame that Hollywood types don't use her more often in movies.

They were showing the Juno on HBO later Saturday and it was the 3rd time I'd seen it. And I'm still struck by it, because old Juno is one of the only people I've ever seen who speaks in a similar manner to myself. It makes me think that I would get along pretty well with Diablo Cody. Her new movie is coming out in September. I don't think she got Jason Reitman to direct this one though. Oh, and the other thing about Juno is this - it makes me wish I had a dad like JK Simmons around when I was growing up.

Finally for today, I was looking at something where a guy was going on about the 2 realities. And I agreed with what he was getting at. It seems like what has happened lately is that people who disagree politically get their news and analysis from vastly different places. Places that only serve to reconfirm their beliefs (for folks on the right it is mainly the Roger Ailes Network and guys like the big glutton on radio, while for the left it is pretty much everything else). Anyway, what this seems to have led to (and it is only gonna get worse) is 2 realities. What I mean by that is that because the 2 sides come at the news from such drastically different slants, that means that folks can't even agree on the basic facts of what has gone down that day or that week. If you were to look at the Roger Ailes Network at 9 pm say and then the MSNBC at 10, you'd think there's no way the 2 stations are talking about the same planet, much less the same day. I flip by and it is really striking. And the outcome is that the opposing sides have absolutely no reference point to start from in even beginning to understand why anyone might disagree with their opinions on various issues/policies. And when we are no longer able to even see where the other side is coming from and simply fill our heads with information that confirms already strongly held beliefs, that is when you think people who disagree with you are wacko, unreasonable idiots. And that's not good. In my line of work, over 90% of the folks I come across are dyed in the wool liberals (they tend to be highly educated, raised on the east coast, and work for entities that rely heavily on taxpayer dollars). And I try very hard to never talk about politics at work (or religion or sports - all those will get you in trouble). But occasionally in a more social setting with folks from work someone will say something to me about this or that, and the assumption is that I'm the same cookie cutter thinking liberal as they are and virtually everyone else is. And on the occasions when I have shared with folks that I'm not a liberal and am basically a libertarian, a guy who, if I voted (remember I don't vote - voting is for suckers), would definitely vote Republican because the Libertarian Party is a farce (and come to think of it, the Republicans aren't far behind right now). When I've let that slip out, the shock and incredulity I encounter is really telling. It's telling because they honestly can't understand how someone they've worked with and gotten long with OK (and generally like in many{ok, some[ok, a few]} cases) and whose work they respect, could possibly ever consider voting for an evil Republican. And that's the best example I can come up with that shows the 2 realities. There is a total disconnect. Many of the folks I'm describing think I'm just kidding and pulling their legs. And I'm certain it's the same way on the other side. Because just recently some very reasonable and good people I know couldn't believe that I was pro-abortion. They said "Really? You're kidding right?" And this whole new dynamic where both sides fail to even consider what the other has to say, I don't think this is a good development. Unless people can agree to disagree and still hang out and get over political differences, then things aren't really headed in a good direction. They really aren't. Of course, I could be way off on this. But I don't think so. As much as I mock old Barry and all the other crackpot socialist liberals, I don't think they're necessarily evil people. Now, they likely wouldn't pay me the same courtesy, but that's because so many on the left (and some on the right too) are totally intolerant of dissent. The liberals were always saying during W's terms that dissent is the highest form of patriotism. Now, the folks that dissent from Barack Hussein Obama are evil crackpots getting in the way of "progress." Slightly ironic. Don't you think? The whole thing makes my head hurt.

And I'm phoning a cab

'Cause my stomach seems small

There's a taste in my mouth

And it's no taste at all

The Bartender That Inquires If Geilfuss Is My Son

Some dude named Guy Cimbalo put out a list of 10 women he'd like to, as he so tastefully put it, "hate-fuck." Now, the only problem is that a major magazine actually published this list (I believe it was Playboy). And I'm all for anything goes as far as free speech. And I don't have a problem with the guy writing it or Playboy publishing it. BUT, here's the thing - this Guy Cimbalo focused on 10 conservative women he'd like to "hate-fuck." And I wanted to make 2 points about this 1) if a publication had printed a list of 10 liberal women that some writer wanted to "hate-fuck," oh, wait...no publication would ever consider running such a list to begin with. Oops. 2) I don't know this Guy Cimbalo or anything about him, but I'm gonna guess this about him - he's threatened by attractive women who disagree with him politically, and he probably secretly wishes he could be with one of these women, and not to just brutalize her sexually. In fact, I would wager that he's never been with any women half as smart and half as attractive as any of the 10 women on his list. And no, I am not gonna make a list in response to this Guy Cimbalo list. To be honest I can't think of 10 liberal members of the media I find remotely attractive anyway - which supports my long held idea that most women who are really liberal, are butt ugly. Not ALL of them, but a vast majority at least.

The other thing I noticed was that David Letterman is in some hot water over some jokes he made about Sarah Palin and her 14 yr. old daughter. And as readers of this blog know, I come close to crossing the line into poor taste pretty often - but I do it on purpose. I think the thing that strikes me about this thing with Letterman is that he seems genuinely stunned anyone would find it offensive and call him on it. Letterman has really become that out of touch with a lot of folks over the last 8 or so years. I started watching him in 1982. I was an 11 year old insomniac. And back on his old show he was brilliant (I watched religiously). And even the first 5 years or so on his new show were pretty good. But somehow he became really off putting to many people's sensibilities at some point (my guess is it stems from his burning and totally irrational hatred of old W - once he let that become his focus, he lost about 1/2 of America). In fact people became so put off by Letterman that he was getting beat by a no talent hack like the guy with the anvil face almost every night for over 10 years. Anyway, this joke he made about Sarah Palin's 14 year old daughter being impregnated by ARod is what it is. And if say, Dennis Miller made a similar joke about one of the Obama girls (I have no idea what their names are - and no one should know their names, it's not their fault that so many people see their father as a messiah, you can't blame them) getting knocked up by ARod, I promise you he'd be banned from ever appearing on any media outlet ever again. The double standard is breathtaking as always. The other joke that he made about Sarah Palin looking like a "slutty flight attendant" is, I guess, maybe funny to some folks. It's certainly not offensive to me. I've said far worse about certain women. But it points out that Letterman has the same issues this Guy Cimbalo does when it comes to dealing with smart and attractive women, he probably doesn't do very well with them. Or then again, maybe some writer on his staff just wrote a silly joke and he read it off a cue card- hard to know for sure. But that joke about the 14 year old daughter - even I find that a little icky.

The surest sign that Barack Hussein Obama's stimulating packages deal isn't working is this - just as many bums, hobos, and derelicts are asking me for change as ever.

I was sitting out at Thank The Devil It's Sunday yesterday afternoon and a bartender asked me if Geilfuss was my son. I told her yes of course. I said he was conceived right around my 14th birthday (which would be accurate if I was the kid's father). The problem was that this bartender didn't seem to think I was kidding. Baffling. As anyone around these parts knows, if there was one kid who is most likely my son, it's not Geilfuss (I love the kid, but still...), it is of course, Ross. That kid. Jesus.

About an hour after the bartender asked me if Geilfuss was my son, a couple of black chicks sat down at the bar to my right. And I was chatting with them a little and at one point went out for a smoke. So, when I got back in the bar, one of these chicks (I think her name was Takia) told me she had slipped a roofie into my drink and she and her friend were gonna take me home and do despicable things to me (this the 2nd time in the last few months some girl has told me this at a bar - it happened at Henry Hudson Grille in the ATL). And I said to Takia and her friend "I got no problem with that - just promise me that there won't be any pictures on any websites afterwards." Takia said "You'd be down with a threesome with some sistas?" I said "Well, I might need the roofies to be honest." Then the conversation turned very graphic and I'm not gonna repeat exactly what was said. Let me just say we had an interesting conversation that covered, among other things - porn, sexual positions, and sticking your finger in a stripper's anus. For what it's worth, I did not take them up on the threesome offer. Believe me when I tell you that threesomes are not all they're cracked up to be (too much pressure on the guy and too many elbows flailing around for my taste). I did send out a text to some folks concerning the situation of being offered a threesome by 2 black chicks and I got this two word response back from Ross - Do Work.

Andy and I were out at Bar Pig Suey again for the trivia and we won this week. We somehow came up with answers out of our asses on several occasions. We got 2 of the 3 shot questions again (one was the number of concerts Elvis performed outside the US and the other was list as many of the top 20 grossing movies of last weekend as you can in 2 or 3 minutes {we only remembered like 11 of them [including Night At The Museum 2], but that was good enough}). It's not a bad place and the guys that run it are pretty decent at it. So, if anyone is looking to kill time on Thursday nights, I recommend it. Starts at 8. I'm not sure what the prize is. Andy handles all that stuff.

And for anyone who is curious, Pat hit a big bet (with my counsel) on the Lakers last night. I don't know if he gambled it away at online roulette today or not.

Oh, I did want to give a mention about Kinga and the triathlon. The race was last Saturday. And I'm very happy to report that she came in 24th out of over 460 women in the race. Awesome!!!

I'm gonna head over to the O's game here later and I have not heard a word from Geilfuss about if he'll be rocking the homemade Wieters jersey or not. But I for one, will be completely "devasted" if he doesn't.

Half angel

Half tart

I'm out - TBFH

The 1st Grade Teacher Learns A Nasty Truth

Well I ran into Keith again last night at Turquoise Terrapin and he pointed out that I'd maybe messed up on some lyrics I used at the bottom of one entry. And I think I like what he thinks it is, more than what I did. So, I'm gonna change it. Also, if someone knows as much about Paul Westerberg lyrics as I do, they can't be all bad. And Keith had a request - and I'm gonna fulfill it now with another pointless and utterly nonsensical episode of IF I Could Ask Barry. As always, it might go something like this -

Barry - You again? I was just talking about you with Netanyahu on the phone. Damn, where ya been brother?

TBFH - Deep underground sir. I feel like I'm being watched constantly.

Barry - Good, I told my homeys in ACORN to have some pipe hitting brothers follow you around to put a good scare into you. How ya like that, you blue eyed devil you?

TBFH - It's not that great sir. Anyway, dare I ask why you and Netanyahu were talking about me?

Barry - I was asking him if you had any ties to Israeli intelligence. Now, I realize that phrase might strike some of my good Muslim allies as an oxymoron - Israeli intelligence. Ha!! Get it???... You're not laughing my young padawan.

TBFH - Yes. Yes. I get it. You're a riot these days. And no, I'm not mixed up with Israeli intelligence.

Barry - I know. Netanyahu told me they've got guys tracking you too. What with the Jews and the ACORN pipe hitting brothers and the CIA on your ass, DAMN BROTHER! - I'd hate to be you. Ha!!!

TBFH - OK. Fine. Things are going a little better for you than for me right now. I get it.

Barry - You got a question for me today? Or did you just come out of hiding to get a new pair of shades to hide those devilish blue eyes behind?

TBFH - I was curious what you meant in that speech in Cairo about Arabs inventing "our mastery of pens and paper?" Because I don't recall that being the case at all. In fact it seems like everything you praised Arabs for coming up with throughout history is totally wrong.

Barry - Well, I'll come clean on that. They didn't discover any of that crap I was praising them for coming up with. I was lying to curry favor in the Arab world. As you know, my father is Kenyan and Islam is pretty popular there. In fact in Islamic law, it says that if your father is a Muslim, that you, by definition are a Muslim as well. And I don't really like to publicize this, but by their own definition, I am a Muslim. So, I felt like I needed to tell them a bunch of crap to make them like me, because as I said, I'm basically one of them.

TBFH - Isn't that a little needy and pitiful? I mean buttering them up just so they'll like you? That's not real mature, is it?

Barry - No. Deep down I'm needier than a 13 year old girl with father issues. I admit that. You got me there kid.

TBFH - Ever thought about getting some mental health help for all your issues sir?

Barry - Listen my young comrade, I'm way past the point of being helped. I'm so messed up that nothing can be done. But you, my son, can still be helped. Will you let me hang out with you and maybe watch some football this fall? I can call off the CIA and the ACORN pipe hitting brothers.

TBFH - No thanks sir. I think I'll stick to sitting by myself at Gloomy Daze or BW-3 and catching flack from moronic football fans for hours. Dude, I gotta run. I bought a ticket to see that new Star Track movie and the thing is starting soon. I'm out.

Barry - Peace to you, my son.

I heard from my friend Jen in Durham about the Wipeout post yesterday. And she saw it for the first time last week too. And she agrees with me, it's pretty amusing. So if you haven't seen it, watch it. My preference would be with the sound off, but Jen swears the commentators are funny. And I respect the girl's opinion, but I'm guessing my own comments are way funnier. The only problem is that they couldn't air my comments on ABC because I cuss constantly. I mean over half the words out of my mouth are swear words. It's always been that way. I remember almost nothing about 1st grade, but one thing sticks out - the teacher got tired of hearing me curse in class and polluting the other kids minds. I distinctly remember her (I couldn't tell you the lady's name to save my life) asking me "Who taught you those awful words young man? I demand to know." And I looked up into her stern, craggly old face and said "It's the fucking Mormons ma'am."

I saw Jeff last night at trivia (we destroyed them last night by the way) and he said "Damn man, your blog is turning all dark. I had to quit reading it today at one point. You OK?" And I told him that everything is fine and I'll try and get back to the usual stupidity of my writing. So, I'm making an effort. But, things aren't always rosy and perfect. So I can't swear I won't write anything disturbing again. I sure hope not, but can't swear to it.

I saw where this writer who lives in Cornish, New Hampshire is suing some publishing company for trying to put out an unauthorized sequel to one of his books. I don't read, but I overheard people talking in English classes when I was in college. And they seemed to admire this guy who lives in Cornish, New Hampshire. Evidently there's a character he created like 60 years ago that lots of folks identify with. He doesn't want some knock off sequel ruining this character. And for what it's worth, I hope this writer who lives in Cornish, New Hampshire wins his lawsuit. He seems like a good guy to me and I'd hate for all the people who got something out of the book that featured this beloved anti-hero (that's a word I heard thrown around a lot in prep school English classes) to have their memories of this anti-hero tarnished in any way. In fact, I can see how folks who really liked this book, and maybe read it over 40 times, might be devastated (or in Geilfuss' case, devasted) by the publication of a sequel to this book written by this writer who lives in Cornish, New Hampshire.

Speaking of Geilfuss and reading, in January he wrote on his blog that he was gonna try and read 100 books this year. I asked him last week how far along he is, and he said "Like 8." And I said "Well, it might be time to go to the library and check out some books that are aimed at the under 5 crowd. The ones that are like 10 - 20 pages with huge print and lots of pictures." Andy was laughing pretty hard and then said this "I bet 6 of the 8 he has finished are books aimed at the pre K set." Geilfuss said "Fuck you Andy."

Oh, while I'm thinking about it. O's update - a bunch of us will be out Friday night for the game (I think they're playing the Braves). Anyway, if you wanna hang out for awhile, come by Sliders. I'll walk over to the yard about 6:30 or so (when I'm in town here, I have an office that is like 3 blocks up). Also, if I'm going, that means the O's will win - so place your bets.

Someone left a comment on yesterday's blog that technically The Tonka Turd is in the city - not Dundalk. And I'm guessing the commenter is correct. Why, you may wonder do I assume the commenter is correct? Answer - it was Geilfuss who told me we were in Dundalk. It sure seemed like it could be Dundalk though. It really did.

This 9 to 5 bullshit

Don't let you forget

The suicide you're on

The Old Timer In Dundalk Who Gives Poor Advice About Getting Babes Drunk

I heard from a number of folks who were concerned about how down I was yesterday as a result of that whole phone call/incident at that Panning For Platinum Grille place. And I appreciate the concern. But I'm doing OK. I really am.

Heard from old Danny in Atlanta last night. He was out at Royal Soak for the trivia. And yes, both Khaki Pants and Elizabitch were in the bar. And evidently Khaki Pants was flashing her tits all over the place (which I know sounds odd, but if you've ever been in the Royal Soak before, would not faze you for a nanosecond). And old Danny made an interesting observation about Khaki Pants' breasts. One that I feel obligated to share - they are surprisingly nice, if you can get around her beer belly.

I saw where Barack Hussein Obama used that same Orwellian phrase again yesterday about how the stimulating packages deal has "saved or created" 150,000 jobs. Now I realize that I mocked old Barry for using this ridiculous phrase awhile back. But he keeps saying this nonsense and no one seems to care or call him on it. There is absolutely no way to measure how a job has been "saved" by the stimulating packages money (although it may be providing an economic boost to strippers). The fact is that 1.6 million jobs have been cut since old Barry took reign of his kingdom back on that awful Tuesday in January. But he doesn't want to tell anyone that. Instead, he tells us that without him and his stimulating packages windfall, things would be worse - that another 150,000 jobs would be gone (again, even though there is no way to prove this). My prediction is that a few months from next year's elections, old Barry will boast that he's "saved or created" over 3 million jobs. Watch him. He also promised that unemployment would not go above 8% because of his stimulating packages thing. And I don't follow the news too closely, but I did see where the unemployment rate is around 9.4% right now. And it seems to me that 9.4 is greater than 8 (I have mentioned my expertise on 3rd and 4th grade math before on this blog - and hot damn I just proved it again).

I got into a brief discussion with Gramma Dave last night about health insurance and he was going on about some nonsense where he thinks every American should have the same health insurance as members of Congress do. And that is typical socialist rhetorical nonsense. So I said to Gramma Dave "Why should everyone be entitled to good health coverage? Didn't the folks who have good health coverage achieve something in life to get good health coverage? Didn't they earn it through education, hard work, and perseverance? And what kind of message are we sending to folks by giving everyone the same health insurance? Aren't we essentially discouraging them from seeking an education, working hard, and persevering by giving them something for nothing?" Gramma Dave reverted into liberal cliches about how people like me have no compassion for the less, as they so euphemistically put it, "fortunate." And that is a false and silly argument. If I choose I can donate to any number of charities dedicated to helping the less "fortunate." But the government should not take from achievers and give to losers in life. I'm against all forms of a safety net (Social Security, Welfare, Medicaid, Medicare, etc...). At least Gramma Dave admitted that he admires me for my consistency. I don't think I convinced him to change his mind on any of this though. These do-gooder liberals - they never come around to seeing the light. Poor bastards. They mean well. I'll gave them that. But,...

At halftime of the trivia game Gramma Dave asked about Scarlett Johannson movies and I didn't remember as many as I should have. But I overheard another team say "Wasn't she in The Scarlet Letter?"

So Saturday I'm sitting out at the Plantation Takeoff on the deck around 9 and I'm chatting with Dupree and watching some horrible show called Wipeout (at least the sound wasn't on - there were 2 dudes playing Soft Rock hits of the 70s - they are always out there in the summer). And Wipeout is one of the most amusing things I've seen in some time. It features people being humiliated trying to make it through these obstacle courses and getting thrown into scalding hot water and pummeled by fake fists and generally beaten around with metal spikes and ash baseball bats. What I found so amusing about it is that most of the contestants aren't the most fit folks you'll ever lay eyes on. In fact, lots of them were not in the most, shall I say, athletic shape. In other words, there were lots of fatties on there. And when a fatty would be embarrassed by getting hit in the face by a plank and falling into scalding hot water to face certain permanent scarring from the burns, the producers would replay it like 5 times. I wonder how many of these fatties have died trying to make it through these obstacle courses on Wipeout? I'm guessing hundreds. I'm a little surprised there isn't more outrage over this show. I did find it amusing myself though. If big folks want to risk their lives running through these obstacle courses and humiliate themselves in the process, then so be it I guess (to be honest, when the show first came on Saturday night, I mistakenly thought it said Whip It Out as the title - I figured it was a reality show where some dude goes around whipping it out in front of unsuspecting old bags in retirement homes, grocery stores, bingo parlors, etc...actually I'm surprised Fox hasn't thought of this idea for a show yet).

Later I met up with Geilfuss at a place called the Tonka Turd in Dundalk (and by the way - NEVER, EVER trust Geilfuss when he gives you directions somewhere -I drove around for 40 minutes trying to find this joint). And when I walk in, there are like 20 people in the bar and it's Karaoke night. Did I mention this is in Dundalk? And no one could sing worth a damn. It was awesome. There was a table of about 8-10 kids sitting behind us and when they started to take turns singing, they all did songs from Disney movies like Booty Does the Beast or The Little Sperm Aid. And they were having a great time - out in Dundalk with about 10 or so locals around and annoying the locals with Disney songs. Geilfuss and I were laughing pretty hard. There was one local to Geilfuss' right that gave us a tip as to what type of girls to date. He told us to date a girl who drinks water all night because it's cheap and there's more money to spend on yourself. I appreciated this old timer's effort to help us, but I disagreed vehemently with this old timer. I screamed at him "Listen old timer, you're way off on this! Now, I'm a confirmed virgin. I admit that. But the best kind of date is a lightweight who gets drunk quickly and loses all inhibitions after like 3 drinks. It's both inexpensive and highly beneficial sexually. So, take that under consideration!!!" Geilfuss was trying to calm me down. I was a little worked up over this old timer's horrible advice. I admit that. Maybe I overreacted a bit. Geilfuss paid the tab and we took off.

We ended up going to Canton after the incident with the old timer at Tonka Turd. The name of the joint was something Irish - I have no idea. We were there with like 10 girls (girls Geilfuss knows somehow - Geilfuss knows lots of girls - not saying "knows" in the biblical sense by the way). At one point I ran into Tyson and told Geilfuss I'd ran into Tyson and we went back to hang with Tyson and he'd left to go to another bar. And that's when things got a little dicey. What happened was that Geilfuss and I went to another bar - and at this bar things got a little out of control. We never did see Tyson again. Instead we got mixed up with this group of hos. Or I should say, I got mixed up with one ho. I was walking behind Geilfuss on our way to the 2nd floor of this bar and a really drunk girl jumps in front of me and starts dancing with me (I should note that both Geilfuss and I were right at the point of a nice level of intoxication at this point - in other words, we were hammered). So, I danced with this drunk chick for like a minute then wiggled away from her and went upstairs to the 2nd floor of this bar (I think it was called Sloopy's). Geilfuss found some girl he knows who is not a teacher and started talking to her (I've met her before and she's a nice girl, I have no idea why she wants anything to do with Geilfuss - he's as bad as I am). And I'm kind of standing around in a drunken haze - drinking a Budweiser and all around me are drunk sluts going at it in the 2nd floor of this Sloopy's place with random guys - which is just typical, good clean, normal, Saturday night fun. And then I got grabbed from behind - it was the drunk dancing girl again. She evidently wanted to get in on the random public displays of debauchery that were permeating this Sloopy's like something out of the movie Caligula (maybe she felt left out?). And I said, as she was hoisting her cleavage onto my sport coat, "Wait. One minute. I'll be back." Then what I did is I went over to the bartender and ordered 2 Royal Flushes (both for me of course). I drank both shots and turned around. And then this drunk dancing chick threw herself on me. Literally. And I had one thought as things turned ridiculously tawdry right there on the 2nd floor of Sloopy's, that I really made the right decision to get those last 2 shots. And it was the right decision, because things got graphic. And at least I was in a state of blurred drunkenness at the time. Thank God for that. As for Geilfuss, he sent me a text the next day at about 4 in the afternoon asking me if I made it back alright. And I did. But I texted him back and asked the most important question that can be asked after a night like the preceding one - How many miles did you have to walk this morning without any shoes?

I tell you one thing; you tell me another

We walk away, maybe then shake hands

The Jacobys Hang In A Cougar Bar

I was out at a laundromat yesterday afternoon and I had bought a paper to kill the time while waiting for the machines to work their magic. So, I'm sitting there reading the front section (which I always read 2nd - I read the sports 1st) and I have the rest of the paper sitting like directly to my left. And all of a sudden an around 5 year old Mexican girl comes walking over and grabs the next section (arts) and walks about 5 feet away and hands it to her mother. And I kinda did a double take, looking around like - what the fuck just happened? And the Mexican mother says "Is these yous?" And I said "Yep. I did pay for it." And so I walked over there and took it back from her. I was tempted to ask her the parenting strategy at work, because that's a helluva lesson to teach your daughter - walk up and steal some dude's newspaper. Instead I just walked back over to where I was. I did notice that the second I left to get the clothes out of the dryer, that daughter raced back over to scoop the whole paper up. Maybe they raise kids differently in Mexico. I have no idea. But this laundromat is in a really nice section of town and I have no idea why there were barely able to speak English Mexicans in there in the first place. They whole thing was pretty off putting.

Got a real bad phone call last night - and I'm not gonna go into any detail on it, but after the call ended (rather abruptly as the person I was speaking to said "I don't want to talk to you anymore." and hung up). Anyway, I raced into the nearest bar after that (luckily one was within walking distance, something called Panning For Platinum Grille). And I started to hoist a few pretty quickly. And I got to thinking about what led up to the phone call ending so abruptly. And then I got really depressed. And I kept hoisting them back for another couple hours. Well, the hoops game was on (and the under did hit - even with the overtime) and I wasn't in the best frame of mind and it got to be after 11. Then I noticed a booth where a guy was sitting with his around 10 year old son. I noticed them because this kid was clapping any time something good happened for the Lakers. Well, that's cool - nothing wrong with pulling for the Lakers or whoever. But I noticed the kid was wearing a #24 Laker jersey. And I said to this kid's father "Why would let a 10 year old kid parade around a bunch of drunks at a bar at 11 o'clock at night sporting the jersey of an alleged rapist?" And I was pretty far in the bag, I admit that. And this father wasn't real thrilled with what I said to him. He said "Let me worry about how to raise my son. Asshole." And I guess he had a point about that. Lesson there being something I'm sure - but I don't know what it is. I never seem to learn anything.

I think I've discovered that it's just a matter of time until everything ends badly. Like anything remotely good I've had going on at any point in my life, has eventually ended badly. It could be because, as I've stated on here before, I'm a terrible person and complete narcissist. And when you're dealing with someone like me, just know that it will probably end badly. The past keeps repeating itself. And it's getting old, but I keep doing it anyway. OK - I'm getting depressed again. I'll stop on this train of thought now.

I was out at the Bananabees on Friday and this category comes up about famous Arthurs. And before the kid running the game reads the question, I said something like "Schlichter?" And Mary said "Moore?" Now, I've never heard of Art Moore myself. But a few seconds passed. Then Mary said "Oh wait, that's Dudley Moore - he only played Arthur." We got it right anyway - the Arthur the kid running the game was actually asking about turned out to be Linkletter. We did terrible though. They asked two questions where the answer they were looking for was incorrect. I won't bore anyone with the details. But, I learned that going up and arguing with the hosts of the games is mostly pointless. The hosts rarely write the questions and almost never research the answers to see if they are correct. It wouldn't take but like 15 or 20 minutes on Google to do it, but they don't (although to be fair, a few of the hosts do check - Paul Chrismer and Keith do anyway).

I did see 2 of the Jacobys Friday and Luke explained a little more about the stoneware auctioning business to me. And it sounds really boring. I asked if they ever get the bidders liquored up at the auctions -and Luke said they've looked into it but haven't tried it (something about insurance costs). And if they hold one of these awesome stoneware auctions with liquor provided I guarantee you I'd show up and drive up the bidding for the crappy stoneware. Instead of $3 for some old jug, I bet I'd push the bids up to $3.50 or so. And that would be a 1/6 increase per crappy old jug - so that's something at least.

The 2 Jacobys and I went to that place called O Put In Dill after the trivia Friday. And it was a scene unlike the 2 of them have ever witnessed before. They'd never seen cougars on the prowl before. And if you're not used to it, it can be disorienting. I thought Mark was gonna pass out from the carnal debauchery he was seeing. We stayed about an hour. And in that time, we saw at least a dozen women throw themselves all over guys (I mean heaving their breasts out on chins and shoving their tongues down throats) and about 40 dudes over 50 hit on the same dozen or so awful women. And get shot down. The thing about a place like O Put In Dill is that out of the hundred guys in the place, the ladies are actually after about 10% of them. The rest of the guys just get drunk and shot down for the most part. Until they get tired of the rejection and they slink out of the bar utterly humiliated. Although you do have to admire their persistence on one level, because I'm sure those same guys were back in there the next night trying again. The dating scene - it's pitiful. At least it's funny to observe. And as always, I was dodging these horrendous women left and right. Although at least with Luke and Mark there I had a couple guys to make my not so nice comments about the whole O Put In Dill Friday night scene to. I bet we might stop in again. You never know - maybe some dream cougar will be in there next time and one of the Jacobys will be lovestruck.

We met up with Geilfuss around 1 or so at the Moo Lotto. And Jamal was out. And Jamal was dead drunk. He was wearing his US flag regailia as always and gave the Jacobys a lecture an patriotism. I'd heard it before. So I was talking to Geilfuss about something or other - probably a shoe sale that he'd stopped into. Who knows? Jamal kept ordering shots of crown for everyone. And I gotta hand it to the Jacobys, they hung in there with both me and Geilfuss on the shots - which is not easy, unless you happen to be Andy, Ross, Mike Hupp, or most of the bartenders at Get Bent Lounge.

Saturday - I'll have to cover at another time. It involved me, Geilfuss, Dundalk, and Canton Square. And it was insane.

I was flipping around the old tube Friday evening for a bit and came across this thing about Steven Spielberg where he's talking about the various pieces of propaganda he's directed over the years. And when he started talking about ET being a spiritual film, I had to turn it off. I remember seeing ET in the theaters when I was 11. And I remember crying when I thought ET was dying. Then a few years later I figured out that I wasn't crying because I really gave a crap whether a fake alien character in a movie was dying or not - I was crying because Spielberg was manipulating my emotions. He's done the same thing in other films as well - two glaring examples are almost all of The Color Purple and the scene in Schindler's List where the people go into what they think is a crematorium (and their certain death), only to be given an actual shower. There are other examples of this manipulation of the audience's emotions in other Spielberg films as well (notably in Shaving Ryan's Privates). And I don't think it's right to manipulate an audience's emotions with the kind of tricks that Spielberg uses. If you're gonna get emotional during a movie, it should be because you feel some real connection with whatever the character(s) is/are going through. It should be organic - not manufactured. Although, Spielberg does use Goldie Hawn in that one movie - so that's something at least.

Cigaterettes & Alcohol