Stunted Growth

Hooray for Holidays

2010-01-04T23:07:00.003-05:00

I've spent the past couple weeks in a mostly prone position, keeping my couch nailed to the floor and watching football.

Bowl games, mostly. And of the bowl games, about 148% of these games are on ESPN. This means I get a truckload of the same commercials. Again and again and again. Here's what I've learned:

1) While I currently urinate properly, I will probably need FloMax sometime soon. I'm not sure what it does or what it's for, I just know that going to the bathroom frequently will cause me to miss key moments in the sporting event I am attending or the sport I am playing or a key scene at a movie/play/dramatic reading. Basically, get FloMax or spend the rest of your natural born life at a urinal while something really cool is happening.

2) Urine issues are not the only thing wrong with my junk. I need Cialis so I can sit in a bathub next to my wife. Why do we have matching bathtubs again? I usually shower. Can she be in the bathtub and I'll take a shower? Guess not. Okay, bath tub. Got it.

3) Dear Taco Bell: Your latest commercial which promotes man asking if the 89-cent deal he got the day before "Is that still cool?" is clever except for a couple faux pas (s? How do you pluralize faux pas?):

- I realize hired actresses play the young lasses working in the Taco Bell, BUT no Taco Bell employee has ever looked like these two - all freshly scrubbed and smiles lacquered in teeth whitener. Have you ever seen your employees? They have acne. Lots of it. Even if they're adults. And those are the good ones. Most of them have some kind of open sore dripping into the salsa.

- Did you notice how CLEAN their uniforms were? Have you ever SEEN the uniforms your employees wear? These are the dirtiest, nastiest, smelliest damn things anyone has ever put on. They're encrusted with cheese remnants, rotting sour cream and what I hope and pray is not blood and or mucus. I think half of them wash these things in the refried beans.

- These young ladies are extraordinarily peppy considering they work at Taco Bell. Have you ever met your employees? Half the time they hand me my change with one hand and slice themselves with razor blades with the other. Nobody is happy to work at Taco Bell. At best, they don't shoot you or hock into your refried beans.

D) Verizon and AT&T can suck it. I don't give a crap about your 3G coverage. And Luke Wilson just....just stop. just freaking stop.

Hendershot and more

2009-12-06T23:35:00.002-05:00

So,
last week as I was sitting through a work meeting that somewhat vaguely involved me and consisted mostly of people reading agendas in the assumption that I cannot read, an idea of brilliance struck me like a bolt of lightning in the eyesocket:

Since I was only half-heartedly paying attention, I would write down every single thought that entered my mind at that second. now, this really has nothing to do with work as my thoughts rarely have anything to do with these meetings anyway.

At this point I would like to request that any work friends reading this maybe not mention it to anyone at work, such as, perhaps, my boss. And since I'm on vacation for a week, if you could just forget that I work there or that you know me while you read this - that would be great, thanks.

So here goes. Please do not expect any rhyme or reason:

"Drive-thru baked goods!"

"Tremendous opportunity for nepotism."

"Hooray for Hollywood and Hendershot!"

"Three TVs and one mean mofo."

"Guidelines of style and front and back breaking into 60 seconds of awesome."

"Pick one or the other or the other, but Jesus Christ, not that one!"

"Exclusive sponsorships of shows for the young and misguided."

"Hey-Ya! That group sucked."

"That's real fly in the vinegar, right there."

"Homeopathic homosapiens."

"Gray areas are so f'ing gray."

"Pedal to the hard substance underneath the general pedal area."

"Promote! Promote! Remote! Demote! OH NO MOTO! MOJO rising! Rising Sun! Blister in the sun! Breaking Blisters!"

"Charting a new course to the center of very, very, very hot sun."

"Fly like an Eagle. What about fly like a pigeon? Really, just flying would be cool. Style of flight is not so important as flight substance in the entire flying matter."

"Rock off with your socks off!"

"Failure is a very legitimate option."

Hello blogging my old friend...

2009-11-23T23:48:00.003-05:00

So. This is awkward. It's been awhile.
As I hear it from a vocal few, my blogging has been missed. I'm not sure what this says about the lives of the people who make such claims. Not much, I'm afraid.

Anywho, what's been going on with me, you ask?

Not much.

I bought a car. First time in seven years and the first time in 12 years I bought a car from a dealer. I had completely forgotten how much I hate buying cars.

As I left the dealer I figured one of the following. I:
A) got an awesome deal and totally screwed the dealer out of every last penny and they were stunned by my negotiating skills.
B) paid so much for the car that my salesman, Bobby, is sending his stupid, stupid children to private school and lighting his cigars with $20 bills.

Before we go on, some of you might think that mocking Bobby]'s children is mean. I don't actually know that these children are shockingly stupid. I can only guess that, after meeting their father, that they are genetically screwed in the IQ area.

Holy crap was this guy dumb. I showed up one day and said I wanted to drive X car, which I had seen on the web site.

"Hmmm, okay. Let me see if I can find the keys," Bobby said.
This was a 15 minute process that led us to a car that was not the one i wanted to drive.

"I'm not sure where that one on the web site is."

I turned around and pointed. "That's it."

"OOOOHHHHHHHH. Let me see if I can find the key."

10 more minutes.

"I can't find the keys. Would you just like to drive this one?"

"Sure, buddy. I'm going to drive this care while you take the time to find the other keys to the OTHER CAR I ACTUALLY MIGHT PURCHASE."

Etc. etc. more stupid things as he tried to sell me every car on the lot except the one I wanted.

Finally, Bobby relented. We dickered over price. I laughed out loud at their first offer for my beloved GTI. Bobby must have been in a hurry.

"What did you have in mind to pay when you came in here?"

And that was it. I didn't even get to storm out in mock anger.

And now, I own this sweet piece of machinery that is, as I write this, likely discovering new ways to break down.

Most disgusting thing I have ever seen

2009-08-31T21:37:00.002-05:00

I was going to post a picture of the lovely procedure I underwent today to stop my string of ingrown toenails. But I decided against it.

Let's just say if you're looking for something to test the 'ol gag reflux, type "ingrown toenail" into Google and look at all the images. oh my.

Anyway, it was something I had already seen today as Dr. Wagner (first name, and I'm not kidding is Steventon) jammed a ginormous Q-Tip into my toenail and halfway up my ankle. It's hard to go through an entire procedure trying desperately NOT to look at what's being done to your toe. Luckily, the doc had drugged my toe into the stratosphere. My toe was flying high.

It's been a rough couple weeks for the feet. Ingrown toenail, a rehash of the gout in the other foot. The plantar fas. Criminy. I'm tired of these suckers. anyone want to trade?

So, the weekend was interesting as Mr. Perry and I took in some high school football at Ohio Stadium, watching St. Thomas Aquinas of Ft. Lauderdale beat Upper Arlington so bad, they probably didn't even enjoy the ride home in Mummy and Poppy's Lexus. We had some nice seats, well, until 2Live Crew showed up to stand right in front of us. yes, son, there's certainly no reason for you to wear a shirt. Growing teenagers smell GREAT in the hot sun. And then there was a midget.

Other notes from the recent summer of non-blogging:

- Funny People should be renamed "Interminably long movie stars untalented hack, Adam Sandler"

- I hesitate to blog about work, but last weekend they decided to add two offices in our area. This required us to pack everything in our desks so they could move them three feet. It was a bit of a pain in the ass.

- mmmmm.. fall is here. I can smell the footblal.

This recession is real, bitches.

2009-07-21T20:21:00.007-05:00

There have been lots of charts and graphs and stimulus packages and home foreclosures and Wall Street crashes and bailouts, but it wasn't until today I knew the recession was the real deal, thanks to the A1 centerpiece of the Columbus Dispatch.

The horrifying news? Ohio's vanity plate market has tanked.

Sure, a lot of newspapers would have made the editorial error of burying this story in the Metro page or even (gasp!) the Life section. (Assuming your paper has a Life section or Metro section. Or that it's still in operation at all.) Not the brave souls at the Dispatch. They know Ohio's vanity license plate market is an unmatched economic bellweather.

And while other newspapers might make the mistake of assigning this story to some poor Ohio University intern who made a questionable career choice, not the Dispatch. Nope, at the Dispatch only a story as riveting as the collapse of the vanity plate industry can bring out the big gun: Managing Editor Ben Marrison.

Marrison pulls no punches with this hard-hitting feature, letting us know right up front things are not good in the Buckeye state:

With the recession forcing people to pinch pennies harder, more and more Ohioans are dropping their expensive plates in favor of the lower-cost, standard-issue variety.

What's that? You're not buying this well-crafted assumption? You're under the impression that people will cut back on their groceries, their utilities, attend Columbus State instead of Ohio State, but never, never give up their personalized plates?

Marrison douses the doubter with hard-hitting facts.

According to Ohio Bureau of Motor Vehicles records, Ohioans applied for 42,500 new vanity plates last year. However, because even more people dropped the special plates, the overall total fell by 277 vehicles. Last year's drop marked the first time in three years that sales fell for vanity plates - those with the logo of a college, a charitable cause, initials or words spelled in license-plate code.

That's right, Mr. Skeptic. Requests for specialized plates dropped by .6 percent.

Let that sink in. These are numbers that cannot be ignored.

Then Marrison drops the real bomb. Ohio is going to hell and the state does not even care.

Lindsay Komlanc, a spokeswoman for the Department of Public Safety, said the state doesn't study the reasons behind fluctuations in vanity or specialized plates.

"We do not have a mechanism for tracking why people are doing the things they're doing," she said, explaining that the bureau of motor vehicles is required to make plates based on legislation approved by the General Assembly.

Marrison wraps it up letting us know that this issue affects many of our Buckeye brethren.

"The most popular plates are those defined as "personalized," those on which people mix letters and numbers to spell out messages, such as CUL8R or BUCKEYE. Last year, nearly 330,000 vehicles had personalized plates, up 70 percent since 2001. Those with initials alone totaled 118,627 last year, up 24 percent during the same period."

Marrison didn't need to add - "For NOW" - to make his salient point.

I don't know if Ben Marrison has a personalized plate. But if it does, I'm guessing it says "BM - HERO."

Alright Already.

2009-07-15T22:22:00.003-05:00

Get off my back.

Anywho, today i stumbled across this beauty.

Media execs rocked by 15-year old's blunt, blistering anaylsis

where a bunch of suits were shocked when they gave a 15-year old intern an assignment (a 15-year old intern? Jesus, kid, go play basketball) and he returned with a SCATHING analysis of modern media.

"He goes on, dissing newspapers because teens "cannot be bothered" to read physical pages when they can get the condensed version online or on the tube. As for banner ads on the Web? "Extremely annoying and pointless," Robson observes (according to the Guardian). By the same token, Robson says teenagers are "very reluctant" to pony up for tunes, preferring to stream or share them for free."

Brilliant. Here's my analysis: Teenage boys are f'ing douchebags and nothing they say or write, no matter who gives them the assignment, should be given an ounce of bleeping credibility. Somebody spank this little shit.

Get it together, Ron

2009-06-29T22:13:00.003-05:00

C'mon, Ron.

Not only is Ron some kind of unemployed extra from Born on the Fourth of July who spends his days stealing copper to fuel his crystal meth habit, no Ron didn't even have the g*ddam courtesy to die in a non-embarrassing manner like the rest of these brave people being portrayed by actors in still photos.

See, Ron, American Electric Power isn't concerned about whether or not you steal their copper wiring. Ron, American Electric Power wants you to live a good wholesome life filled with happiness and don't die like a fucking chump, Ron.

And for God's sake dont' die on our power lines in a way your family could sue us, dumbass.

I mean, Ron, did you SEE the other people in the commercial? The lady cop. Dead. Firefighter? Dead. Cancer lady? Dead. But dead in appropriate ways, Ron. Even heroic, Ron.

Jesus, Ron. Get your shit together.

West Virginia+Las Vegas =

2009-06-22T00:16:00.003-05:00

.38 Special: Coming soon to a casino near you.

Father's Day!!
So, yes, for a Father's Day celebration me and Sam headed to Wheeling, W. B. G. Va. for a little dinner and gambling fun. (I'm a classy son.)

The fun didn't last long though. Dad got smoked on slots and I got hammered at the Blackjack tables rather quickly as the player who was drawing before decided it was his sole goal to collect every card in the deck. (uh, did you really just hit an Ace-Nine with the dealer showing a nine? what????)

He was one up on the 122-year old lady next to him, who stopped taking oxygen long enough to take a drag on her smoke. Twice I was pretty sure she was dead, but she managed to make the "hit me" motion with her fingers.

Best hand of the night? The lady who split her Aces, only to draw two more aces.

Ahh, Wheeling Island, the crass/gawdy parts of Las Vegas combined with the ghettos of Wheeling. The best of both worlds.

No offense to anyone. I'm only angry cause I lost so quickly. Usually it takes awhile before my money's gone. Not this week. The Island wasn't f'ing around.

Besides, I'll be back at the Island - Styx, REO Speedwagon and .38 Special are there in two weeks!

Speaking of .38 Special, can someone explain the meaning of the lyrics to their classic "Hold On Loosely"? They have always confused me.

Side note:
Best sign in St. Clairsville, Ohio? The giant blue one for VASECTOMY.COM.

This one hurt just a tad

2009-06-09T23:47:00.001-05:00

My life in the 90s. And part of the 00s. And most of the 80s.
Dammit.

Don't Ask. Don't F*cking Care

2009-06-09T23:39:00.003-05:00

So this guy's gay.

Couldn't miss it as it was the lead story on the front of Yahoo! today. Would have meant more if I knew who the hell he was.

Either way, I'm tired of celebrities coming out of the closet in magazine spreads.

I don't care about your sexual orientation. I don't care if you're straight, gay, bi or you like to hump puppies in an empty refrigerator box. It's none of my g&ddam business.

Now, dance attention-starved monkey, dance!

Dear Jackass

2009-05-27T20:33:00.003-05:00

It already says Range Rover on the back of your SUV.
It also says Range Rover on the license plate holder.
Therefore, I decree your personalized license plate of "RNGE RVER" to be repetitive, annoying and bleeping stupid.

Sincerely,
Phil

Blogcation officially over

2009-05-13T23:41:00.004-05:00

Sorry 'bout the delay, I've been busy keeping my couch pinnned to the floor or else that sucker would run clean away.

Actually, there were some computer issues as well.

Anyway, I'm here to complain about my excellent health insurance. See, during the periods of my life when I didn't have health insurance or had crappy insurance, which was, uh, any time preceeding 2007, I spent about 0 hours in the doctor's office.

Simply put - I couldn't afford to be sick. I had one surgery (I still miss you, gall bladder. Call me.) but other than that I ignored all aches and pains, assuming they would just go away or I'd die. It was a healthcare philosophy that worked incredibly well seeing as I'm still alive.

But now, I have a very nice health insurance package with my cushy corporate life and I can actually afford to go see the doctor. So, I do. I've seen more doctors in the last two years than the 15 previous. And the more you go to the doctor, the more shit they find wrong with you.

The latest? TMJ. (See diagram above.)

I don't really know what TMJ is, but it can hurt like a mother. So, now I gotta get some kind of mouth guard to wear while I sleep. I had one when I was 13. Glad to see I'm regressing.

And I'm already wearing those breathe right nose strips on my nose. Now a mouthpiece. Maybe I'll just start sleeping in a goddam football uniform.

Old-timey Tea Party

2009-04-17T00:10:00.002-05:00

Easter in the 'Ville

2009-04-13T18:14:00.000-05:00

That's Carter. Yes, he's that cute. And that hair is freaking perfect. I offered up to his Mom that she should start shaving his head and selling that stuff. No go. Carter is also bilingual. Okay, I should say that he seems to understand his Mom yelling at him in Spanish.

other Easter notes:

- Attention all drivers: I know you love your cruise control. But, if you are behind a semi, going 58 with the cruise on - if you pull into the passing lane to pass, YOU ARE ALLOWED TO TAKE THE CRUISE OFF AND SPEED THE F*CK UP. IN FACT, IT IS YOUR MORAL G&*DDM IMPERATIVE TO SPEED UP.

- Wheeling Island took some it's money back from my last trip there. Doris was not a friendly dealer.

- There are two Japanese steakhouses in the greater Steubenville/Weirton metropolitan area. That seems excessive.

- My Dad is less than enthralled with the Pittsburgh Pirates TV announcers.

Son of a...

2009-03-25T23:43:00.004-05:00

One thing you may or may not know about me:

I have a song in my head.

All the time.

It's not the same song all the time. But it's always there.

Tonight, it's Rebirth Brass Band's "Do Whatch Wanna" which may seem odd, but I was listening to it on the Ipod and it got stuck.

This has been going on as long as I can remember. Wings' "Band on the Run" was a big one for most of the mid-1970s. Almost all of 1980 was spent with AC/DC's "Back in Black."

So, I when I hear a particular song, I tend to have very specific memory. For instance, the aforementioned Band on the Run is riding in a big yellow station wagon on the way to swimming lessons. Joe Jackson's "Steppin' Out," which remains one of my all-time favorite songs, is leaving the locker room at Bell-Herron Middle School and getting on the bus for a junior high basketball game at Sandy Valley. Fleetwood Mac's "Hold Me" is 4-H camp. (Yes, I went to 4-H camp. Shut up.)

And there are times when a song gets stuck. Rush's "La Villa Strangiato," which is a nine-minute instrumental, was firmly in my brain from 1987-1992. At least it seemed that way. It was like the song I would revert to when all other songs were absent.

When that happens I not only hear the song repeatedly, I go back through and do different parts - one time the drums, one time the bass, one time the vocals - it never, ever stops.

This is part of the reason I wear headphones at work a lot. It at least gives me a variation. That, and I can avoid talking to coworkers who want to, you know, uh, chat or something.

Also, I'm easily influenced. I hear a commercial jingle or some horrific piece of Dave Matthews trash - and it can get stuck in there just as easily.

Anyway, you get the gist. This brings me to last Saturday. With the weather getting nicer, I took the old Target-bought bike out for a spin. So, I'm pedaling my fat-ass down the street when I come upon this kid outside playing on the sidewalk. Which is fine. His right, I guess, although I didn't see his parents and I totally could have beat his ass.

But the little shit was singing, very loudly, The Chicken Dance.
there was no reason for him to be singing this. He wasn't at a wedding reception. He was outside, just screwing around.

And for the next 30 minutes I rode a bike and sang the Chicken Dance to myself - over and over and over. Do you know how many times you can sing the Chicken Dance to yourself in 30 minutes? A hell of a lot.

That little shit is getting thumped if I see him again.

Mr. Show - a favorite

2009-03-25T23:24:00.000-05:00

Corporetry!

2009-03-25T23:21:00.002-05:00

White Guyz

A sea of bald spots and sportcoats
Welcome to the MarriHolidaySuitesInn!

Bob, Tom, Dick, Rick, Rich, Rob, Tim and Dave
Steve, John, Dick, Tom, Ken, Joe, Bob and Bob

Shake Shake Shake
Back pat. Nice tie. Nice tie.
Remember that time?
Oh do I!

ECONOMY!
Grumble, rumble, huff, fist shake, ha-rumph!
Democrats/Republican/Government/Other!

GOLF!
Can't wait. Me either.
I'm bad. I'm worse! No, I am! No, me!
So bad.

OBAMA!
Grumble, rumble, huff, fist shake, ha-rumph!

Industry joke. Chuckle chuckle.
Funny cause it's so so true.

PowerPoint!
Paragraphs so very long.
Bullets are the answer.

Blackberry buzzes.
So important.

Lunch!

A weekend in bulleted form (now with even more bullets!)

2009-03-15T22:13:00.004-05:00

What's becoming an annual March trek to NW Indiana was once again a good time had by all as I hung with the Stalters.

- You know it's an odd weekend when your seats at the NHL game are better than your seats at the 13-year old hockey team game.

- My fake nephew Matthew's team lost 3-0, but #61 showed well on the wing.

- Was almost involved in one of those infamous hockey parent brawls. Hockey parents are an, um, interesting bunch.

- I like Blackhawks fans. There was zero heckling for our on-the-glass seats in the United Center, as Hawks fans were far too busy belittling their own team to pay any attention to us. The guy next to me said "I was just in Columbus on business. Nice little college town." Uh, okay dude.

- I stink at Call of Duty. Matthew killed me something like 20 times in a row.

- On a similar note:
I don't need an XBox 360.
I don't need an XBox 360.
I don't need an XBox 360.

I am an adult.

I don't need an XBox 360.

- A word about my fake niece Katy. She's 10 and is playing on the 12 and under indoor girls soccer team. Their opponents on this Saturday night were 14-year olds or as I called them "Gargantuan Towers of Evil." This was like a high school team playing against an NBA team. Ridiculous. That's Katy on the right in the above picture. I was hot they even put this matchup together, but damned if Katy didn't go out there and play her butt off against these 14-year old monsters. Crown Point, Indiana Soccer League, you are dead to me.

- When I asked Katy if some of her fourth grade classmates had cell phones she said "Yes, but that's retarded!"
I agreed wholeheartedly. She was emphatic. "I don't need a phone until seventh grade."

- Finished up with an Italian Beef from Portillos. good stuff.

The Colonel ain't f'in around

2009-03-08T21:41:00.005-05:00

This evening, sensing my body was dangerously low in saturated fats and starch, I made a quick trip through the KFC drive thru for dinner.

I was especially thirsty having spent the previous two hours screaming at the television set, which was not coincidentally showing an Ohio State basketball game. The Buckeyes are really talented. They have managed to take one of my favorite sports and completely suck the fun right out of it. That takes effort.

Anywho, I was thirsty. The drink choices on the KFC menu read as such:

Medium
Large
Mega

Small? Fuck that shit, man. The Colonel doesn't offer small. Would you ask Van Halen to "turn it down a notch?" Would you tell Tom Cruise to lightly jog instead of sprint in every movie? Hell no.

Something in me snapped. If the Colonel offered, the Colonel offered for a reason. Was it to test my manhood or maybe my bladder?

Whatever. Bring it, Colonel.

"Mega" I offered up to my highly-skilled KFC employee on the other end of this scintillating conversation.

I waited my turn with a wry grin. Mega, my ass. Did they know who they were messing with? I had taken the the Large, Extra Large, the Biggie, the Gulp, the Big Gulp, the Super Big Gulp. I'd seen a million drinks and I'd, uh, dranked them all.

Finally, I gunned the GTI and raced forward 12 feet to the pick-up window. My highly-trained KFC counterpart handed me original three-piece dinner and gave me a knowing smile.

"It'll be just a second on your drink."

Wait? The food was ready before the drink?
Umm..

I don't know if there is a small industrial-strength crane stored inside every KFC drive-thru window, but there must be, because I don't know how else this pimply-faced, highly-paid KFC employee got the Mega up to the window.

She gripped it with two hands and thrust it through the window.

"Here's your drink."

I couldn't hold it with one hand. Shaquille O'Neal couldn't hold this f'in thing with one hand. It had a handle. I'm not joking. It had a bleeping handle.

Not only wouldn't it fit in my cupholders, I think I heard it laugh when I tried to slip into into the adjustable cupholder. Instead, I placed it into the passenger seat. Immediately, the GTI began listing starboard.

We struggled home. I had to use the handle to lug it inside.

All is not lost friends. I drank and I drank. And then I drank some more.

Four hours later the Mega was beaten.
And I think I am now a diabetic.

Excuse me, friends.
I have to pee. Again.

weekend in reverse

2009-02-16T00:26:00.004-05:00

Friday night, the Princess and I headed to the movies. Waiting in line I was struck by the overall ugliness of the crowd in line. I don't mean mood. I mean looks. These people were downright unattractive and borderline hideous. I was pretty sure there were extra fingers, toes and chromosomes in this crowd. The Princess and I looked like freakin' rock stars.

Then it occurred to us that it was Friday the 13th and all these people were here to see, um, you know, "Friday the 13th."

Yikes. you know it's a rough crowd when you see multiple Insane Clown Posses T-shirts.

After Princess and I left our movie, one of the Friday the 13th exiters, sauntered towards me, baggy pants, sideways hat and Carmelo jersey yelling into the cell phone, talking to that "dumb mothafucka." Then she went to the ladies room.

I pissed my pants a little. I had just seen "Milk." I wasn't feeling my manliest.

I'm pretty sure Jason would be scared to shit of that crew.

Tips for a Saturday night...

2009-02-16T00:11:00.005-05:00

This photo of an unidentified man is all that remains from a Saturday night in Columbus.

here's the thing about drinking, going out and getting old - it's all about momentum. When you're a young'un, you can lose steam and quickly regather aforementioned steam, but at my advanced age, one slip-up and the night can turn into a headache and yawn fest.

So, when the band me and a couple others trekked to the campus area to see decided not to take the stage until 1 a.m., all momentum from earlier drinking was lost. Too bad, cause they seemed good.

And yes, i said "campus area." it brought back a lot of memories: the unsafe housing, the alcohol marketing materials used as decoration inside every apartment and the beer bottles strewn all about the, uh, everywhere. (wait, I think I left that one there in 1993.)

As for attending a shithole bar on campus to see a band, it was great to see the same alternative cast of characters still frequenting these establishments:

- the kid with the olive green Army jacket, big glasses and Chuck Taylors.
- the bartender with bangs so low you couldn't see her eyes, but somehow remained mysteriously hot.
- the funky girls with the funky glasses and funky clothes
- the guys who are way too old to be there, but they're in the band so...
- the rest wearing black or brown or ironic shirts. could have all been Stache's in 1994 as far as I was concerned. in fact, I think some of these people were probably there.

Anyway, it was good to hang out with the Fremont visitors.

Never sit behind this guy

2009-02-11T23:45:00.007-05:00

when you go to a US Men's National team game.

Actually, it was fine. I just did a bit of dodging. For those of you non-soccer believers, bite me. If you'd been at Crew Stadium tonight in the middle of some kind of rainy tornado with drums and bands and Mexicans, you'd love it too.

And the USA won, 2-0. Suck it, Tri-Colores.

The Mexican fans were nice, but they kept chanting something that sounded like Meh-Hee-Ko. Whatever, i couldn't follow those crazy accents.

The worst part of the evening was the absolute clusterf*ck getting to the game in the middle of a hurricane.

That picture about sums it. So Mrs. Shepler and I got out early to walk, while Mr. Shepler parked the car somewhere in Chillicothe, RAN to the game and got there at the same time as we did. Show off.

the game was awesome. Especially since the team I was rooting for won. Otherwise, it would have sucked.

the trip home included mud and a tour of some of Columbus' better neighborhoods between 4th and Summit. We also bought crack.

Hats, hats, hats

2009-02-03T22:52:00.008-05:00

seem to be playing an overstated role in my life.

Hat trick! Against the Red Wings no less.

Mucho thanks to MacDaddy for going with me on a last minute's notice and for remembering to bring a hat to toss on the ice. Although, it was an Ohio University hat, so no big loss.

And then there's the hat of the Princess, who joined me for Groundhog's celebration in Linden of all places.

For those of you who know the Princess, let's not tell her about her pic being on the internets. I would be beaten.

As for my hat on this evening, let's just say "Shaft." It's a good thing I was close to Cleveland Avenue. I took a couple ladies over there later in the night and got some work in.

Other stuff:

- Nearly quit work in fit of rage. Decided not to. Then nearly did cause I was mad again. Seriously, why can't everyone just do as I want? This would make work much more bearable. Then remembered we're in a recession. I hope I don't get laid off. That's not my style. I like to go out in a blaze of embarrassment and slight humiliation.

- If you're on the facebook, like me, you have undoubtedly been tagged with the 25 things. For those of you who don't know, you're supposed to come up with some bullshit list of 25 things about yourself and share it with all the jerkos on facebook. yeah. blow me. If there were 25 things, and I can neither confirm nor deny that there are, it's none of your business.

- FIVE GUYS.

- Mellow Mushroom is up next.

- With these developments, I've learned Polaris is too far from my apartment. Or maybe it's better that way.

- I found a house I want to buy. Now, if I had a down payment and my credit didn't suck and I made enough money to afford it, I'd be in fine shape. Other than that, I'm thinking I'm in by April. It's empty anyway. They probably won't notice.

- Or maybe I'll move away.

Can Jack Bauer save the Amish?

2009-01-27T00:58:00.004-05:00

Isn't it just the best when something in your actual life coincides with the TV world? Of course, it is. Like when the guy on that show Herman's Head would wear Ohio State sweatshirts or when we found out Johnny Utah was a former OSU quarterback. Or maybe when the Keaton family resided in Columbus and Dad worked at Kenyon.

You celebrate. Yay, people in Hollywood are aware of our existence! Or can at least read a map!

So when the bad guy on Fox's "24" decides he's going to release some deadly chemicals because the stubborn-ass President isn't caving to his demands - he naturally chose Kidron, Ohio as the town to destroy!

Now, we have to wait to next week to see if Kidron gets crushed, but there are some slight factual inaccuracies. Kidron was listed as a town of roughly 30,000 people. Maybe there are 3,000 people in Kidron - if the flea market is going good during a spring Saturday.

Mostly, blowing up Kidron would just kill the Amish. Seriously, you can't get through the town without getting stuck behind about 20 buggies.

Perhaps Rupert Murdoch has decided its time to wipe out these technology terrorists with their lack of zippers and electricity. Well, you got me Rupert, now I've got to tune in next week to find out the fate of the Amish. And maybe even the Mennonites.

Or it could be late and I need to go to bed.

Top 5 worst movies of 2009

2009-01-27T00:45:00.004-05:00

Top 5 worst movies of 2009:

(Disclaimer: This has nothing to do with movies made in 2009. These are movies I've watched in 2009 that were not good.)

1. Armageddon
Sure, it was made in 1998, but I watched it tonight. Holy shit this movie is bad. In every imaginable way. Isn't there some kind of limit on montages in a single movie?

2. In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale
Ray Liotta plays an evil wizard who is not a mobster. That guy from Snatch is in it and he kicks a lot of ass. And it's almost a complete rip off of Lord of the Rings. Gee, but other than that...

3. Lucky You
Drew Barrymore and that Eric Banna guy attempt to commit career suicide while learning to play poker. Wait, can Drew Barrymore actually commit career suicide at this point?

4. Jumper
Young Darth Vader travels through time with same annoying look on face. Samuel L. Jackson wears wig. Phil sleeps.

5. Premonition
Sandra Bullock sees her hubby biting the big one, repeatedly. Over and over and over. Freaking again and again. to the point where you hope he finally just dies.

Not bad movies of 2009:

Be Kind Rewind
Mildly amusing if slightly cheesy.

Traitor
Needed another big twist at the end, but many things blow up.

Co-Ed Confidential 2: Sophmores
Cinemax rocks. Actual line "Oooh, you're getting an extra big tip for that!"