Pumpkin Comes, Pumpkin Goes

I stumbled into the Wing Joint on Battleground last night right at about 9:40, and lo and behold, there at the bar sat a dude I call Meatloaf. The reason I call Meatloaf Meatloaf is because the kid resembles Meatloaf circa 1980. I've run across the kid before, but never spent any time speaking with him. That changed last evening. Some background - Meatloaf is known for 2 things at Wing Joint (besides looking like Meatloaf of course). 1) the dude sits for hours drinking water. WATER. He drives the bartenders nuts, particularly the day manager/resident lush KC. & 2) the kid is infamous for mis-ordering wings on the rare occasion that he actually eats there and drops a few bucks. There is a type of wing sauce called Hot Honey (which is pretty damn tasty by the way). Only Meatloaf doesn't say Hot Honey when he orders. Meatloaf says Honey Hot - which I love. When I head about this some months ago I started saying all the wing sauces backwards as well - Pepper Lemon, Jerk Jamaican, Teriyaki Sweet, etc. Anyway, I sat down next to Meatloaf last night and struck up a conversation with the guy -a conversation which, after about 5 minutes, had the kid so confused he had no clue what the hell he was saying, much less what I was saying. It was vaguely amusing. Sitting next to Meatloaf was his "roommate," a certain heavy blonde chick named Tammy. And this chick was not drinking water - she was pounding shots. Meatloaf and Tammy both claim that there relationship is strictly platonic. And I guess I take them at their word, as Tammy was coming on to me pretty strong from about 11 on. At one point I inquired if the duo was interested in acquiring a third roomie. Meatloaf informed me that the couch was available for $300 a month. I said, "Does that include sharing a bathroom with you Meatloaf? Because I'd rather fuck your roomie right here at the bar than share a bathroom with you." I don't think Meatloaf appreciated my candor. Guys like him never do. Needless to say, at about 1 I told Meatloaf to be sure to get Tammy home safe, as there was no way in hell I saw gonna take her anywhere.

Speaking of folks not appreciating my candor - I was out for Sunday Ticket at Scams Brassfield and my man Scuba (the bartender) was lamenting the fact he ever got involved in the dark world of fantasy football. At one point Scuba turned to me and Brandon and said, "I should be like the 2 of you and just gamble on the games. This fantasy football is stupid." I said in reply, quite loudly, "Fantasy Football is for losers." Well there was a guy to my left who said very angrily, "Why is that?" This kid had his computer out at the bar following every twist and turn in his all important fantasy football match-up for the week. He also had on one of those red and black checkered shirts - he resembled an effeminate lumberjack. And of course, the kid was pulling for the Lions. I explained to the effeminate lumberjack my issues with fantasy football and the guys who get so damn into it (things I've gone over on this pointless blog before). He couldn't really disagree with me and after a few minutes we just kind of let things stand without any real resolution to our dispute. I did tell him I was pulling for his Lions and they came through like champions again - losing by a mere 3.

There has been yet another new server turn up at Wing Joint on Battleground. Last Friday I had the great pleasure to spot for the first time a new hire, a woman I immediately called Pumpkin. Why, you may be wondering, did I label this woman Pumpkin? The reason I tagged her Pumpkin was because she had on black slacks and an orange shirt, and she was round in shape - she had some girth about her. Hence, she looked like a damn pumpkin. So, I started calling her Pumpkin. The moniker quickly stuck and by the time I saw Pumpkin again Sunday for the huge humiliation the Dallas Cowboys suffered at the Cheese everyone was calling her Pumpkin. I didn't get a chance to speak to Pumpkin until late Sunday evening and when I did she seemed pretty amiable, not altogether unpleasant in the least. I did ask her at one point if she grew up near a pumpkin patch. She didn't laugh. I then inquired if her father ever ran any hayrides out through massive fields of pumpkins. She didn't laugh. Finally I asked Pumpkin if she was a fan of carving jack-o'-lanterns. She said, "What's your fixation on pumpkins about?" I said, "Well, I have a latent sexual urge involving pumpkins. It goes back to my childhood." Pumpkin walked away from me at that point. She wasn't working last night and I asked Dave where the hell she was. Dave told me that Pumpkin, like so many servers before her, quit. Bye, bye Pumpkin. I never really knew you.

Speaking of Dave, he and Q have been going on and on about some new movie opening soon. It's something called Skyline. Q even threatened to kidnap me, drag me to a theater, and force me to watch this sure-to-be cinematic piece of crap. Dave spoke up at one point and stated the obvious, "Q, _____ hates everything." Well said, Dave. Well said. I hate everything but the point spread at this late date in my wasted life.

This time will be the last time

I'm out ----->

Barry Takes A Beating

W has some book coming out here soon. I won't read it, obviously. But he's out doing interviews to promote the thing, and in one of these interviews told a story about his drinking days. And this story shows why I am a huge fan of the guy. W was at his parents' house in Maine. This is way back in the day. His folks are there. His siblings are there. His wife is there. And other guests as well. W happened to be sitting next to an attractive older lady guest at this dinner. Dead drunk, W turns to her and asks, "What's sex like after 50?" My main man. The only other person I know of who would dare do such a thing is me. I'm sitting in Generic Bread at the moment and when I read the story, I laughed out loud for 20 seconds. The fact this country had a president for 8 years who would act that inappropriately in that setting is the reason this is the greatest country in the history of the known world. I never thought too much of W's policies - he spent taxpayer money like a drunken sailor - but I could hang out with the guy. We'd have a time.

It's been several days since the big silly elections. And, not to brag, but, as usual, my prediction was dead on. Back in August I predicted a 60 seat gain by the GOP in the House. There's gonna be at least 60 pick-ups, as several races are too close to call right now. It could go up a few more when it's over. I would have been right about Harry Reid losing (a prediction I made close to a year ago) except the GOP ran a moron against him. In fact, if the GOP had run better candidates in a couple of these senate races, they would have won that body as well. The best news of election night was Rand Paul, hyped on this blog, winning his race in Kentucky. The worst news was that Geilfuss did not win the race for governor in Maryland. I don't think he campaigned very hard. I went on the State of Maryland election website to see if they have made public the write-in results, and they haven't yet. So I don't know if Geilfuss got one single vote. As I said last month, Geilfuss would be a catastrophe as governor, but no worse a catastrophe than that fool Marty O'Malley. Why anyone with a brain would vote for that proven failure is beyond me. O'Malley has clearly demonstrated he's terrible and yet folks are begging for 4 more years of it. Of course I can't blame Marylanders too much, the Republican running was also terrible. It's certainly lamentable.

I've read a number of articles by various pundits trying to explain what the results of Tuesday mean and why it happened like it happened. And most of them are all wrong, as always. If you've been reading this blog with any regularity the past 2 years, you know why it happened like it happened. People didn't want what Barry was peddling. They voted for Barry because they had W fatigue. The Republicans spent like crazy. They got us into 2 unpopular wars. All that smoke and mirrors with change, hope, chope, I'm the one you've been waiting for, being a bridge, a healer, a miracle worker, a saviour, and our messiah - did not mean that folks wanted an aggressive left-wing agenda. The vast majority of citizens want the same things in this country and those things cut across all racial and socio-economic lines and political parties. They want an opportunity to lead a happy life and they want the government to be as little involved in it as reasonably possible. That's it. Government should simply try and foster an atmosphere where folks can sink or swim (hopefully swim) on their own merits. The number of folks who really believe in and want a super progressive, liberal agenda in this country is small. These true believers, and I don't begrudge them their opinions, are simply not in tune with the people. They never have been. And I don't think they ever will be. These professional lefties over read the election results 2 years ago and crammed that awful health care deal at us. Something most people don't want. At all. They want sensible reform - not some bureaucrat telling them they can't see a specialist for 16 months. They also don't think government knows how to spend our money best. A fact that leftists refuse to grasp or comprehend. Now, the moving forward part of the election is much trickier than explaining why it happened. We'll see how it goes. Never underestimate the ability of the Republican Party to screw things up though. Both parties are, by their very nature and existence, flawed. The only thing the GOP has going for it in the end is they happen to represent the views of more Americans - even if many of those Americans don't know it or refuse to admit it. This is a right leaning country. How John Boner and his boys proceed might be bad or worse than bad. They might do fine. Either way, the overarching force of history in this country is on their side - whether they deserve it or not.

As far as our friend Barry is concerned - he's not relevant. Whether he can understand this painful fact or not, we'll see. I'm not saying Barry won't win another term. He very well could. Again, don't underestimate the GOP's ability to nominate a horrible candidate in 2012 -something that looks likely based on what I'm seeing. I actually feel kinda bad for Barry. He seems to have a complete misunderstanding of the very people he purports to lead. Mocking him for this quit being quite as much fun some time ago. There isn't anything he can do except veto legislation. Legislation that might be good or bad - but that's not the point. He's a lame duck - be it for 2 or 6 more years. A lame duck. That's the beauty of our system. He's little more than a figurehead now. The American people have inevitably pushed Barry to the sidelines of history. Bye Barry.

On a similar note, chope is dead. And not fast enough, I might add.

On a dissimilar note, someone told me that Due Date might be worth checking out. I might have to, considering that it reunites Robert Downey Jr and his co-star in Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (I know I've said this before, but if you haven't seen Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, I urge you too).

Death to tyrants. Long live the revolution.

I am out.

Manning The Phones At The Board Of Elections

Well, the big silly election is happening as I type this. And the results should be interesting, to say the least. Back 10 years ago I did a little work during election season for the Guilford County Board of Elections. I had a bit of a lull at work and a very nice lady I worked with named Libby was doing work for the GCBE (she handled absentee ballots) and they needed help with this and that and Libby got me this brief job with them. I mainly worked entering voter registration cards into a database for 8 or 9 hours a day - sheer drudgery. After a few days of only doing this menial, although important task, the guy running the place, a George Gilbert if memory serves, was sufficiently impressed to give me the expanded task of answering incoming phone queries. And that's where the job got interesting. In between entering the voter registration data, when a phone would ring I'd pick up and say, "Guilford County Morgue, how can I help you?" Almost no one laughed when I did that. As you can imagine, some of the calls were from the most clueless would be voters that ever could have been dreamed up in the history of western literature. My favorites were the folks who wanted to know who was running for president. Seriously, some people did not know the 4 candidates on the ballot - Albert Arnold Gore, W, Nader, and my man Harry Browne (the Libertarian candidate). Once I'd list the 4 choices on the NC presidential ballot, many of these idiot callers would question why they couldn't vote for William Jefferson Blythe yet again. I tried to explain the 22nd Amendment to these confused possible participants in the messy world of democracy; alas, my efforts tended to prove fruitless - they bore no fruit, not a single orange, or tangerine even. I also enjoyed members of the Democrat Party who dialed me up thinking they were getting the Guilford County Democrat Headquarters. They'd request Gore signs to put up in their yards or spew mindless hatred about W - weird stuff like that. I quickly had the Democrat Party Headquarters number memorized and urged the fools to call them instead. Some weren't so willing to hang up too fast. I had one angry old woman on the phone for 5-7 minutes trying to convince her that I did not work for the Democrat Party (if she'd only known the complete lunacy of that suggestion...). One of my favorite recollections of working at the GCBE was that the ladies who were full-timers there couldn't have been nicer to me. They must have been under the impression that I never got a home-cooked meal (which I rarely did) because these ladies would bring me food almost every day - soups, roasts, stuff in crock pots, breads. It probably didn't hurt that other than George Gilbert, their boss, I was the only guy working there. And being that I was much younger than anyone else there (not quite 30) they wanted to mother me, I guess. It's funny because RumbleForeskins is just a block down W Market across the street from the GCBE and every Saturday as I drive past the Guilford County Courthouse on my way to watch Gameplan I think about those crazy would be voters, the way too nice ladies, and the utter stupidity of the whole election process.

Someone asked me the other night about the World Series. I told the guy that if they play a World Series and no one cares, did it ever really happen in the first place?

I'm at the point where I could certainly use a haircut.

I've been watching this season of The Office online, usually a few days after an episode airs. And I gotta tell you, with the exception of the season opener and one other episode, it has been pretty bad. That whole thing with Andy and his play or when Andy and Darryl start their band or even last week with the Halloween stuff - not funny, painfully not funny most of the time. I know this is Steve Carell's last year with the show and I really think they should go ahead and end it next spring. It's sad to see the show going down this road. One bright spot on that Halloween episode was seeing Angela dressed as a very sexy nurse in one scene.

Blah, blah, blah...

A Trip To The Kickin Chicken

Quick note for anyone who has been trying to get in touch with me via cell phone: I'm having some issues with Verizon at the moment and hope to have everything resolved here soon. If I haven't been responding to texts like normal, it's because I'm not getting them - not because I'm being a dick. I especially miss Geilfuss's incoherent text musings covering his daily travails.

Another wild Sunday in the NFL. If you recall, last week I noted that the 10 was gonna get his first shot to start a game in 3 years. And the 10 did not disappoint. After the Niners fell behind 10-3 and Mike Singletary let the kid play his game, the 10 was spectacular - making play after play and leading SF to 3 touchdowns. Of note is the 10 yards per attempt and 0 turnovers. The Niners have found their starter.

Brandon was paying particularly close attention to his baby Bucs during the late games. And Josh Freeman is for real. So too is the Blount kid out of Oregon. Although I kept waiting for Blount to punch somebody in the face, he never did.

There is yet another new sports bar here in the Gate City. They seem to be sprouting up monthly. This place is called Kickin Chicken and it's located down Battleground, not too far from the cinema. I strolled in there Saturday night right around 7:45. The place is huge. It's probably too huge for Greensboro. There are at least 50 giant flat screens in the enormous joint and three of those wall-sized TV's to boot. I sat down at the bar in the main section of the place. There were probably 200 people in there at the time. I waited a few minutes, found a manager and had him put the TOSU/Gopher game on for me, and apparently I was the only person in there who asked for it. The servers in the place looked like meth addicts dressed in cheap Goodwill Halloween costumes. The main chick I dealt with was a strange blonde named Heather. She was dressed like something out of a Cyndi Lauper video from 1985. Heather was fine as a server/bartender, but overly friendly. She kept eating off my plate of cheese fries at one point. I didn't really care too much, as I wasn't gonna finish them all. And I figured Heather was ravished for food, what with being a meth addict and all. About the middle of the 3rd quarter of the Buckeyes' dismantling of Minnesota, sure enough, up walks some nasty brunette in a #28 Beanie Wells jersey. I never caught her name. But I quickly learned that she was from Akron and managed the Victoria's Secret at Hanes Mall in Winston. When I learned the part about her managing a lingerie joint, I immediately started in with questions about cross dressers and transvestites and how she handles them at the store. Her answers, although slurred from being hammered fucking drunk, were enlightening. This Beanie Wells worshipper informed me that they do allow guys into the fitting rooms on some weekday afternoons to see if their lacy fetishistic cravings properly fit their male anatomies. They only let the freaky cross dressers in the fitting rooms when there are no women in them, hence the weekday afternoons. I then started peppering her with questions about various pantie cuts and whatnot. She started to get too close to me and then a miracle happened. Out of nowhere, Q came up and said hello. He saved me big time. I excused myself from the Akron non-hottie and sat at the bar with Q and his buddy. Of course if you know Q, you know that within 15 minutes we'd done 2 shots of Patron each. And that's when I had to get the hell out of the Kickin Chicken. I imagine I'll be back in there from time to time. They do have $2 PBR drafts, and although PBR is repulsive, I'll drink it if it's cheap. Drinking cheap beer - it passes the time.

After all the fuss over Halloween costumes last week, I didn't see too much of note Saturday night or last night. At RumbleForeskins for Gameplan Saturday afternoon one of the servers was dressed as Barbie - and that was nice. She was sitting next to me toward the end of the UGA/Gator game and got hit on by some moron in there dressed as Johnny Depp in Fear And Loathing. This kid was pitiful. The Barbie chick was rebuffing him left and right. Yet the kid kept coming back for more and more rejection. I mentioned the awful costumes at Kickin Chicken. There was one good outfit to be seen though. A shapely blonde had on a red devil-type costume. Granted it was more the way that the lingerie type costume fit on her comely body, but whatever (Q was certainly smitten by her). Q wanted me to go hit on her, but she was there with a guy and a toddler. I declined. Besides I'm not interested in hitting on anyone these days - at all. The Rasta chick at Wing Joint did have on a fetching Raggedy Ann costume. Other than her and the little Asian server who was donning some kind of flapper dress, it was all fairly lame. As for my friend Dave, he decided against wearing any Mexican costume at all. Probably a wise move on Dave's part.

Last Friday I was out with Brandon and his dad at Sloppy Seconds for a brief visit. I kept trying to leave, but Brandon's dad was feeling it and bought me beer after beer, not to mention the bourbon - don't forget the damn Jim Beam. There was a toothless Canadian in there as well. He was keenly interested in the Carolina Hurricanes for some reason. Anyway, I only note that because at one point talk turned to Tony Romo (the kid was a Dallas fan). This Canadian thought that Romo was a top 3 QB. And while I wholeheartedly think Romo is a top 7 QB, I don't see top 3. Not as long as P Manning, A Rogers, D Brees, T Brady, and Phil Rivers are in the league.

The big election is just one day away. Thank God it's almost over. I noiticed one of those pesky political signs in the window at RumbleForeskins for some candidate named Yon. I asked several of the regulars in there if the opponent of this Yon character is named Hither. If that were the case, it would make for a perplexing decision in the voting cubicle or whatever they call it (I have no clue, not being privileged to vote is part of my parole agreement - that and staying more that 1,000 feet away from schools...). Who would you choose - Hither or Yon?

If you're gonna waste time voting, vote that way ----->

Dave Goes Mexican

It's a very strange time in this country. Josh Hamilton, for instance, noted the overpowering smell of marijuana wafting in the outfield at AT&T or Pac Bell Park, or whatever they're calling it this week. LeBron James looked absolutely confused, mortified, and scared Tuesday night when he was lustily booed in Boston. The Democrat Party has become totally delusional at the close of this ridiculous political season, attacking these strange Tea Party people on baseless personal grounds. All the while, our fearless, pathetic, fake leader, one Barack Hussein Obama, is going to India next week and taking like 800 members of the government with him - leading me to the conclusion that Barry might be setting up a government in exile in Mumbai. It's all very weird. The most insane laden thing I've seen though involves the guy on the MSNBC - the one who steals from Edward R Murrow and used to work with the En Fuego guy on the ESPN. I was scouring the World Wide Web of Deceit last night and came across an "essay" he'd read over the air earlier in the week. The thing went on for close to 20 minutes. In it, the MSNBC guy ripped into the Tea Party, excoriating all them as devils. At points he compared them to pro-slavery southerners, fans of lynchings, and corporate elitists from robber baron days. It was mostly incoherent. Which is fine, when you're angry sometimes rational thought loses way to something very akin to demagogic rambling. What strikes me about the whole rant is this: a man who slammed W night after night for years, now despises those who voice dissent against the man in power and the liberal policies that the MSNBC guy supports so fervently. It's blatantly hypocritical, and a bizarre spectacle, watching him belittle people who simply disagree with him. I'm looking forward to checking out his analysis and reaction next Tuesday night - he might walk off the air in disgust, or drop dead from a massive coronary. Seriously, he was that out of control with rage in the rambling piece from earlier in the week. Strange days indeed, as John Lennon said.

As far as my little, pathetic, boundlessly delusional world is concerned, things just churn on close to normal. I was out at Wing Joint the other night for a little bit and got into an interesting conversation with Tess (not the Thomas Hardy Tess). She was commenting on the turnout for my birthday get together earlier in the week and noted the large number of folks who stopped in to wish me well throughout the evening. I'm not sure exactly how many folks made it a point to stop in, as I was wasted. But for a Monday evening, and considering the fact many of them could care less about MNF, it was a big turnout. Tess speculated that lots of people must like me for this turnout to have happened. And I thought about that for a few moments, then told Tess that I have virtually no idea why anyone would like me, but that I am entertaining. I admit that. I can get a group of people almost pissing themselves with laughter for some reason. As for Tess, she seemed to be unsure why so many people might like me as well. As the conversation seemed at a standstill, I put out my Marlboro Light and strode back inside to the bar, had Dave pour me another indiscriminate light beer, and resumed drinking.

Speaking of Dave, I told him that I'm running out of derogatory synonyms to describe his Glenn Beck fetish, as I've used dozens the past 7 or 8 months. And that from here on out, I will cease referring to Dave on this blog with having any connection to Glenn Beck. I'm not sure that he believed me, but after today I am stopping. You'll see, Dave.

Goose was out last night for the FSU/NCSU game at Wing Joint and was none too pleased with the outcome. Anyway, at one point Goose informed me that he had spent some time earlier in the day doing a bit of babysitting for a co-worker. He was watching her 6 year old daughter. When informed of this, I asked, "You didn't molest her, did you?" And Laurie was sitting to my left at the moment, heard my query, and said, "That is so wrong." Goose didn't seem too offended, he just said "Fuck you, asshole." Then he went out to smoke.

Lots of talk her in the Gate City has centered around Halloween costumes this week. As the drunks remain gleefully ignorant of what's going on in the world. Anyway, Dave has been talking about dressing up as a Mexican for the occasion. Only he's having a dickens of a time coming up with a proper costume. Dave showed me something he'd bought at Party City that was supposed to imitate traditional Mexican dress - you know, those burlap looking things that Mexican bands wear over their heads as they serenade folks with La Cucaracha or whatever. The thing Dave bought at Party City is multi-colored with oddly feminine pastel stripes. It doesn't look authentic. The worst thing about it is that it's too small. When he tried it on last night, it looked like a bib that they'd give retards in a group home. He's gonna have to get something different I think. That is unless Dave changes his costume to be a bib wearing retard in a group home. Then, he'll look spot on fabulous. I told Dave that if he really wants to dress up as a Mexican, all he has to do is walk around in ill-fitting jeans, a sweat soaked T-shirt, wielding a leaf blower.

Speaking of Halloween, I don't dress up to celebrate. Which reminds me of the last real Halloween party I went to back in 2004, in Durham of all places. I went to this party with my friends Jen (Happy Birthday, Jen!), Josh, and Tod Cannon. While there I remember having a conversation with a guy called Z, he was quite distressed that I wasn't in costume. And I remember Z told me at one point that I looked like an asshole preppy. I laughed at that. I'm sure Z was dead on there. Another conversation I had that evening was with a way to the left guy named Dan. I had worked with Dan quite a bit the previous 3 or 4 years and I liked the guy. He was easy to work with, good at the job, and had a great sense of humor. Now, you might recall that Halloween 2004 was just days before the big presidential election and Dan was dressed as a shrub to mock old W. It was a pretty good costume. We started talking politics and Dan was convinced that the imbecilic lefty John Kerry was gonna win. I talked to him for 15 or 20 minutes, trying to convince him to not get his hopes up. I was 95% certain that W was gonna prevail. But Dan was a true believer. I could never convince him. Alas, I think Dan was near suicide the following Wednesday when Ohio went to W and ended the matter. Since then, I have heard that Dan has moved into some kind of leftist cult-like commune in Virginia - eventually cracking due to W's reelection. It's kinda sad really. As I said, I liked the guy a lot. That same night was also eventful because it was the night that Carolina upset 3rd ranked Thug U - the highlight of the John Bunting era in Chapel Hill.

----->

The 10 Gets A Shot

Quick Happy Birthday to Brandon today. The kid is getting old.

Speaking of birthdays, I managed to have one just the other day. Turned 40 - which is awfully depressing to type. Believe me. The whole day is a bit blurry, as you can imagine. Some of the folks at Wing Joint on Battleground were nice enough to throw a kind of get together to mark the occasion. I turned up just before 7 - half in the bag. Dave, the Glenn Beck apologist, was pretty hammered already. And then folks started buying me shots. I remember little after kick-off of the G Men/Cowboy game. But I did wanna thank everyone who came out. Throughout the night there were quite a number of well wishers.

I was gonna put up a silly, self-indulgent post about turning 40. But I never felt like it. So, I didn't.

A very odd trivia competition broke out last night at Wing Joint on Battleground. Our team made 3 fatal errors and, quite deservedly, lost. The first mistake involved risking too many points on an answer we weren't sure of. That was my fault. They asked what TLC reality star was born Katherine something or other. I immediately wrote down Kate Gosselin. And put the maximum points. It was some LA Ink girl - Katy something. Then we made a terrible error about what NKOTB member is on some program with Tom Selleck - Stacey wrote the wrong Wahlberg brother - the one who was never in NKOTB. I should have double checked the answer sheet. A very silly and needless mistake. After that, we still had a good chance to win on the last question. And then the 3rd mistake was made. We answered too fast and didn't talk out our answer. It involved who won the Grammy for best album in 2000. We put Steely Dan for Two Against Nature. And that album was released in 2000. And it did win best album. The problem was that it won the award at the 2001 award show. It's a shitty trick question. But we should have thought it through better anyway. At the award show in 2000, Santana won. Such are the vagaries of playing the silly and highly irrelevant team trivia.

This stupid election is quickly approaching. Only 6 more days to endure the endless and mindless TV ads. I'm very disappointed in Geilfuss. After starting his campaign website 2 weeks ago, he's basically quit campaigning. It's very distressing. I think he's only gonna get 2 votes - his own and Tyson's. And they're both likely to incorrectly spell Geilfuss's name on the write-in ballot. Especially Geilfuss himself...

Huge news in the sordid world of NFL football - it appears the super intense Mike Singletary has named the 10 the starter for Sunday's tilt in London against Denver. The only problem is that the 10 is no longer wearing #10. The 10 is wearing #1. It's very confusing for me. And the confusion is compounded by the fact that there is still a #10 with Baltimore. Marc Bulger changed his number after the 10 was released. It's a crime against nature in my mind - and, no doubt, mine alone. But the 10 is always gonna be the 10. It doesn't matter what number the 10 is wearing or if there is another Raven wearing the #10. That in no way has any bearing on the simple fact that the 10 is the 10 and will always be the 10.

Teen Angst

6 Bars, 14 Beers, & 2 Shots - A Typical Football Saturday In The Gate City

I think I may have finally figured out the key difference between liberals and conservatives. I mean beyond all the obvious policy differences, religious differences, blah, blah, blah. Forget all those for the moment. Here's what, after too many years thinking about this, I've decided: Liberals tell us, that no matter how good things seem for the individual or society as a whole, they are way worse than we believe. Our relatively boring, comfortable lives are not what they should be. In short, we don't have it as good as we COULD. Of course to achieve this higher state of happiness, bliss, or whatever, we must let government have vastly more power over our day-to-day lives. Conservatives conversely, tell us that no matter how bad we think things are, they really aren't. They could be worse. Way worse. We have it better than we deserve, or even know. Be grateful, at all costs. Because if those pesky liberals had more influence, our happiness, bliss, or whatever would decrease exponentially. In short, liberals always see the glass as half-empty; conservatives as half-full. The basic worldviews between the 2 sides are polar opposites. It's why liberals tend to be miserable all the time. And are often no fun to hang out with. And while many conservatives are tragic bores, at least they don't constantly depress you. Me? I don't see the glass as half-empty or half-full, I just wanna know what kind of booze is in there. Scotch???

Another thing I think I've figured out, though it's somewhat painful to admit, is that while I tend to see things that others rarely see in a situation, ask questions no one else would consider asking, and offer alternatives that no one else would consider to solve problems, I often miss the big picture, the obvious. I focus on the minutiae, the obscure - I'm an outlier. And that has its merits, no doubt. But by so often missing, ignoring, or overlooking what most folks see or take from a situation, I live in what has to be charitably called a warped reality. Let me give you an example: whenever I read or see a news story, or even some work of fiction or a movie, about some tragedy that befalls a person, I rarely react to it in any kind of socially accepted emotional way - I'm incapable of empathy. However, if in a similar sad type tale, the person who has been visited by tragedy has a pet, I react very differently. I only wanna know if the pet is okay. I get very emotional about the pet. I don't react at all to the person. That kind of thing, I've been reminded a few times, is not healthy or normal. But I can't help it. It's just how I'm wired. In my reality, my compassion for a person pales in comparison to my compassion for an animal. When I was a young kid and saw Wizard Of Oz the first time (I was maybe 6 or 7), I was never remotely concerned if Dorothy made her way back to Kansas. Instead, I was worried to death about Toto. For example, during the tornado scene, when Dorothy is racing back to her aunt's house, I was unconcerned if she made it back or not, I kept looking at the bottom of the screen for Toto scooting along, and hoped like hell that the dog made it back. And when those flying monkeys came and scooped up that little dog, I started crying like crazy. I dare say, most kids did not have this reaction to the film. Sure, they cared that Toto was safe. But it wasn't their main worry watching the movie. For me, it was my ONLY worry watching the movie.

In a slightly similar vein, I was talking to Greensboro's favorite lush/day bar manager, KC of Wing Joint on Battleground fame, a few Fridays ago. Now, it was late, after 12. And KC was feeling it a bit, to say the least. Well, earlier that week she somehow got this blog address and had managed to read some of the stupid posts. Which is fine, whatever. KC kept complaining about how in the stories I relay here involving the Wing Joint, I make myself appear to be above all the drunken silliness. She said at one point, "_____, you were just as drunk if not more drunk than anyone else." And I dismissed this criticism at first as ridiculous. Because if you read, say 25 random posts, you should get the clear impression that I'm hammered at times, and not comporting myself properly in polite society. At the time I told her, "KC, they're stories. They don't necessarily reflect exactly what happened. Are you familiar with poetic license?" And I tried to leave it at that. But I've thought about that drunken conversation with KC a few times since that Friday and have come to the conclusion that her comment did have some merit, at least in the context of what I wrote in the previous paragraph. By that I mean, beyond twisting events to make them more amusing, maybe I miss the overarching reality of whatever happened. Do I tend to focus completely on the minute or trivial, and walk away from experiences totally missing the real significance of whatever happened? Of course I could easily defend that by noting that nothing of any significance ever happens at the Wing Joint late at night when everyone is half-hammered. And I don't think I'd be wrong about that. Still, I think this same deficiency in character, focusing solely on the trivial, may bleed over to other, less frivolous aspects of life (if there are any) than drunken bar shenanigans. I just rarely write about anything that isn't frivolous. Mainly, I admit, because I see all of human existence as totally frivolous. And that's something to explore on a different day. Maybe.

Speaking of utter frivolity, I am now gonna give all of you a glimpse into a typical football Saturday for me here this fall. I'm gonna relay what happened 4 days ago, on October 16. Now, it's important to note that Brandon was not in town Saturday. He was at some car race near Charlotte with his girl Lassie and his ex-girlfriend Kylie and who knows what other chicks. So, I was flying solo. I only bet 2 games Saturday and neither of them started at 12, so I was in no great rush to make it to a bar super early. I took off about 2:30 so I could see the 4th quarter of the noon games. I stopped to get 2 packs of smokes from a smelly Pakistani (cliched, but accurate) at a Quickie Mart on Lawndale. Then proceeded downtown toward RumbleForeskins, parked on W Market, and strolled into the bar. My man Tommy was bartending as always on Saturday afternoons. Tommy is a Bama fan - he's from Alabama, so I don't give him any grief about being a front-runner. I sat down and the usual cast of characters were there. I was immediately barraged with questions about point spreads and who I bet on and blah, blah, blah. I had Iowa as one of my two bets and Tommy put the game on the big screen for me. I stood and watched, not saying much to anyone. Eventually Iowa started to look golden (although it got a bit dicey at the end) and I sat down at the bar next to, of all things, a Boise fan. I'd seen this guy in there before and he's a big, burly, and pretty amiable dude. He's not too bad to sit next to sober (I'm very picky about who I sit next to sober at the sport's bar - the drunker I get, the less I care). And this Boise guy was rooting for all the other undefeated teams to lose and that was fine, whatever. At one point I got in my classic conversation with the guy about the difference between fans and graduates. I think I've blogged about this before. There is a huge distinction between randomly choosing some school to cheer for and having actually put the time in at said school to earn a degree (or 2). The Boise guy took my point pretty well. He was merely a fan of the Broncos. I am a slightly embarrassed graduate of TOSU. Big difference. At one point a Michigan fan came in, another guy I'd talked to a few times. He was so down on the Wolverines it was pathetic. We watched their comeback attempt fall short. I was relieved. Then I left RumbleForeskins. I'd had 5 Miller Lite 12 ounce cans over a 4 hour period. I was not in any hurry to drink. I had a long night ahead of me. I drove out W Market and pulled into a terrible place called Mender's Tavern right at 7, just in time for the TOSU/Badger game. I found myself highly annoyed right from the get-go. One, there was a Cornhole Tournament going on outside (and as you all know, I despise Cornhole). Two, the people in there were ugly. And three, there were moronic and loud Badger women in the bar. After Wisconsin raced out to that 14-0 lead, I had to get out of there for my own sanity. I only imbibed one beer at Mender's. I drove further out W Market and stopped into a truly horrible place called Winnie Cooper's. And there were so many ugly TOSU women in that place, not to mention ugly women rooting for the Phillies, that I only lasted until halftime. I had 2 more Miller Lites. It was 8:30-ish. I really needed to eat and it was halftime. So, I went over to Quaker Village and stumbled into some Mexican joint. It was dead. I ordered Devil Shrimp or something. It was delicious. While there I hoisted back a couple Mexican draft beers & a shot of Patron. I was starting to feel it at that point. Just before 9, I waltzed into that wing place on N Garden. TOSU was making a bit of a comeback. They eventually pulled within 3, and then choked. There was a dude in there with a TOSU jersey on and at one point as I was headed out to smoke, I asked what year he graduated, knowing full well that the answer was never. I said, "Oh, okay. You're just a fan then." Once it became clear that TOSU had no magical comeback in them, I started following the Boise score. I was laying 39&1/2. The Broncos were covering that at the half. Relieved, I texted Derek to see where he and Steve were. They were at Bananabees for some reason. I paid for my 2 big beers and shot of Cuervo, then headed out. I'd lost track of time. I pulled into Bananabees a few minutes later, walked over to the bar and had 2 beers with Derek & Steve. We talked about something. I have no idea what exactly. I drove home and went to bed. And that is a pretty typical football Saturday.

Hearts fail -young hearts fail