The 7th Day of Quotemas 2006

Warning: This one isn’t very funny. But it also isn’t very long.

Talkin Bout a Resolution

A lot of you don’t know this, but I made a New Years Resolution last year to not drink any soda. Except for the little bit they put in the top of a long island ice tea. I did it because I wanted to try to consciously eat and drink more healthily. So instead of drinking soda for dinner, I’d have the only other thing in our fridge, beer. And on long road trips where I needed caffeine, I’d drink red bull. Or do some speed. And my roommate and girlfriend who refused to remember this made it difficult at bars. I’d have to ask the bartenders to try to separate the jack from the coke on many occasions. So where everybody else will be drinking champagne at midnight tonight, I’ll be looking around for a mountain dew. So this year, I’ve decided to really challenge myself. I’m going to try to drink nothing but soda. I’ll let you know how that turns out…

The 7th Day of Quotemas 2006

“Kate has the worst sense of direction in the world.” – Colin
“What makes you say that?” – Me
“Well, first of all, she doesn’t know her left from her right or north from south.” – Colin

What the hell was the second of all?”

Getting ready for a root beer IV,

D Rec.


Still Standing Right Here…

The 6th Day of Quotemas 2006

The Rewards of Deceit

So I got an e-mail address from another hot waitress at Fox & Hound when I went home. The age old argument about whether she was hot or cute transpired and because of my state of inebriation and the fact that I don’t remember the outcome of the argument or which side I was on at the time, I’m just going to pick one and I’m going with hot. Anyway, we got to talking and it turns out we had something in common. I wanted beer and she was willing to bring it to me. Yeah, I know that’s not technically something that we have in common since they’re actually the exact opposite of each other. So anyway, I got drunk and told her I had a daily e-mail humor column. Which as you all know, isn’t true at all. But it sounds better than “I write a stupid rant when I get around to it.” Regardless, neither one of them is going to get me any action. And I still have to live with the guilt of lying. I should have told her I have a big penis and a lot of money. If I’m going to lie, I may as well give myself the best chance to reap the rewards of deceit.

OK, this guy comes from a long time ago when I was incredibly… we’ll say “kidding.” It was last New Years Eve and I know I didn’t write about it yet. I had my birthday liquor mask on and Meatwad, Kevin and Tony made sure I was able to stumble out to the subway after the party. On said subway, I ran into a girl and I told her it was my birthday. This line worked out much better than “I write a blog-type thing that nobody really has access to read.” So we were making out on the subway. Pretty much the whole ride, however long it was. Then we got off and she stayed on and I never saw her again to my knowledge. I damned Tony, Kev and Wad for not being good wing men…

The Sixth Day of Quotemas 2006

Me: “You guys are supposed to be my friends! How come you couldn’t talk her into coming back to your place?”
Tony: “Because she had friends too.”

Ooooooohhhhhh! New plan. I need to find somebody without friends.

Still Standing Right Here,

Extendo.


Wait, I did that backwards.

The 5th Day of Quotemas 2006

Late Without Hate

So my mom just told me that the 12 days of Christmas actually originally started on Christmas Eve and ended on January 6th. This is not the news you should give to a chronic procrastinator. But anyway, it gives me an excuse besides "I'm not getting paid and I have free will, so shut up." That one always works though.

Good Joe came by the other night to say hi to the family and then pick me up and go do what I'll talk about on the sixth day of Quotemas. Anyway, I gave him my gift, which actually happened to be on time, but unwrapped and I still didn't care if he liked it or not. Turns out he didn't already have a Corona lava lamp. What are the odds? So anyway, staying with the theme of not caring whether or not the gifts were on time, Joe said that he still needed to "go pick mine up." I've known Joe for 14 years now. This of course means he didn't have anything at all or a clue of what it would be. And that's fine with me, so long as he's not stressing out about it. So I jokingly asked him if it was a Jeff Garcia Eagles jersey. He said no. I asked if it was an Eagles hat…

The Fifth Day of Quotemas 2006

"Uh, no… but keep guessing."

- Joe Crastinator

Get it? Cause he didn't get me anything yet. I can't wait to tell you what he decided on.

Better late than hate,

The PROcrastinator.

Still Standing Right Here…

The 4th Day of Quotemas 2006

The Perfect Marriage of Holiday Concepts

You’ll notice that the days of Quotemas don’t necessarily sync up with the days of Christmas. This is in theme with both the not caring about things that are late this holiday season and the recent (last five years) theme with the “quote of the day” not being daily or even in measurable increments of time. It will probably be closer to the 12 days of New Years Day. But anyway… MERRY CHRISTMAS to those of you who celebrate that sort of thing. And to those that don’t, enjoy the rest of the world giving you the day off of your obligations. I’m making this short because I need to wrap presents that will stay wrapped for about 2 minutes and then go get my eagles gear on. A Philly/Dallas football game on Christmas Day. It truly is the holiday season. J Oh, and check out this website. You can elf yourself for the holiday season.
http://www.elfyourself.com/?userid=a219f56a46d99c876c33b16G06122422

The Fourth Day of Quotemas 2006

Me: “I’m warning you ahead of time that I am going with the theme that I’ve decided not to care about whether or not people like my gifts this year.”
Uncle Ed: “Well, you’re in luck. I’m going with the theme this year that I’m going to pretend to like everything that I get.”

He either really liked that Corona lava lamp or he’s a hell of an actor.

Spreading holiday cheer in some format,

Santa Rec.


Still Standing Right Here…

the third day of Quotemas 2006

Video Killed the Christmas Shopper

Technology is a wonderful thing, but it’s actually making it harder to shop for people. You can’t buy CDs anymore because it’s so easy to download music illegally. And with Netflix and digital cable and DVRs, you can’t really buy DVDs anymore either. And with streaming internet and unprotected free wireless signals floating around everywhere, you really don’t even need to buy porn anymore. I hope everybody likes Corona bottle shaped lava lamps, because that’s pretty much all there is left. This is why I’m glad I decided that I don’t care if people like their gifts or not. That’s this year’s theme.

Speaking of porn, I recently heard that 1% of all the pages on the internet are porn…


The Third Day of Quotemas 2006

“That’s it? I would think that much would just be Asian porn.”
- Christmas Conover

A porn quote on Christmas Eve. Nobody tell my mom.

Tech the halls,
Dustinaclaus.

Still Standing Right Here…

the second day of Quotemas 2006

The Burden of Being Santa

So I’ve been doing something for about a week now that I recommend all of you do around Christmastime. And no, it’s not eating all the cookie dough before mom and Char ruin it by putting it in the oven. (Though I do recommend that too. It’s sooOOOOooooo good that way!) Anyway, I have been doing something as simple as wearing a Santa hat around when I go out in public. (When I first wrote that, I wrote down “Satan hat.” That would have conveyed a much different meaning than I had intended.) Anyway, it makes people smile at you and if you’re just as cheerful back to them or even go so far as to say Merry Christmas to them just after you make eye contact and see their little smile start to crack, it really brightens their day. Unless they’re a grinch. Or Jewish. Or Quanzican. But it’s a hit or miss world, sometimes you just gotta roll with the odds. It’s also a good angle to take with any hot chicks that you might want to talk to that you otherwise wouldn’t. But then you’d probably need to get a little drunk first to get your courage up. And Santa’s helpers send off a different message when they’re sloppy falling down ignorant drunks. I’m not saying there’s not an angle there, but I haven’t learned how to play that hand yet. Maybe one of you can figure that out and pass on the info. Thanks.

This segues nicely into the one issue I want to bring up before you take on this task of wearing a Santa around to bring smiles to the greater public (and prey on the fragile, unsuspecting, Christmas-loving hotties who thought you were just in it to bring smiles to the greater public). When wearing a Santa hat, you must remember you are wearing a Santa hat. Now that I’ve been at it for a week, I can remember well enough when I see people smile at me that it’s not because I’m just that hot. But in the beginning, I forgot after a while of walking around. I went shopping uptown in Oxford and I had an unusual amount of people wish me a Merry Christmas. Now it was a good thing, don’t get me wrong – but then there were certain times I was weirded out. Like when this old lady rolled her window down at a red light to wish me a Merry Christmas. I told her to shut up and go creep somebody else out. Now I realize that “Thanks and Merry Christmas to you too” would have been a much more appropriate response. A few minutes later a cute college girl told me she liked my hat. The hat! That’s right. Unfortunately I was so disappointed to realize that I was garnering all this attention because of my hat and not for the grueling workout regiment I’ve been on for the last 3 days that I forgot how to play this to my advantage and just told her to go fuck off. So yeah, what I’m saying is that wearing a Santa hat comes with a sort of understood responsibility to be at least somewhat nice. Like you can’t be wearing a Santa hat in your jeep and cut people off and then give them the finger and throw raw bacon out your back window and their windshield. Well, you can go ahead and do anything you want, I’m just thinking though that you probably shouldn’t.

Now it has come to my attention that the last quote was not that funny. I think a lot of it was lost in translation. It was the pause between the “It’s like a sitcom that comes on…” and the “every once in a while” that didn’t convey the proper comedic timing that I needed it to when I wrote it down. Char thinks I needed more dots. The three weren’t enough. In retrospect, I think it just might not have been very funny to people that weren’t there. I can accept this. Hell, I didn’t say it. Tom is stupid anyway. He cheats at fantasy football…

The Second Day of Quotemas 2006

“Fantasy football is like Dungeons & Dragons for guys who used to make fun of Dungeons & Dragons in high school.”

-Dave Bradshaw

He admittedly stole this from a comedian, but we can’t think of who, so Dave gets a point for now.

Ho-ho!

Santa’s ding-dong.

Still Standing Right Here…

On the first day of Quotemas 2006…

On the first day of Quotemas 2006…

Hello all you wonderfully holiday cheerfully awesome people. It’s that time of year again. The time of year where you say to yourself “Damnit! I can’t believe I waited this long to do my Christmas shopping again. Next year, I’m starting in freakin July!” Well, here’s how I’ve decided to combat that. I’m not going to worry about it. I tried to do one really creative project for Christmas this year and I’m probably not going to finish that until February sometime. Maybe I can give it away as a surprise President’s Day gift. But I’ve decided I’m not going to stress out about whether or not I got stuff for everybody I wanted to and whether it was something that they want or can use or deserve. And I’m certainly not going to make up for the lack of creativity with a lot of money that I don’t have. Among other things I’m not going to worry about are overbaked cookies, lateness of previously mentioned gifts and innocent, misinterpreted comments that are supposed to be funny. I’m honestly going to be more concerned about whether or not they are funny than offensive. Just a merry holiday warning for all of you.

Sorry about the cynicism, but I’ve recently gotten into a relationship that I don’t know that I want to be in. On paper, it looks like we’d be great together. She’s a third year grad student and I’m… old. Trust me, in that town, that’s as old as single girls get. Anyway, I like to hang out with her and her friends and there will be more coming on this later, but if I’m going to try to get 12 of these out before Christmas, I’m gonna have to get moving. It’s like I’m hydrogen and she’s beryllium. There’s just no chemistry between us. (And I don’t care how poorly that joke tested on my control group yesterday. It’s not my fault you don’t realize that hydrogen is an unstable gas. You need to study up on your comedy.) Anyway, Tom had mentioned he was glad that it wasn’t working out between me and said girl because it makes me funnier and it suits his purposes better…

First Day of Quotemas 2006

“It’s like a sitcom that comes on… every once in a while. I want it to be funny when it’s on.”
-Tom, my life coach

Honestly, he’s not the only one in that boat. I have a new theory on why I can’t find any women.


Shopping for stuff you won’t want,
Extendaclaus.


Still Standing Right Here…

Loins & Linen, Groins & Garb

Loins & Linen, Groins & Garb

Well, when I originally decided to leave all my friends and family behind on the east coast to move to Fantasy Island, I did it because I wanted to find out more about myself, to see what I was made of. As it turns out, I’m made of tinfoil and yarn. Like I couldn’t have found that out without moving all my crap 600 miles inland. So it looks like I tore my groin again. Or at least pulled it. And not in the fun way (if I’m going to go through the same injuries, I’m going to use the same jokes). This is going to completely ruin my sex life. Now I’m going to have to watch porn sitting down.

Anyway, I just wanted to throw out a quick hitter since I haven’t yapped at you cats in about a month. I’ve actually been working my ass off (another injury I’ll tell you about later) on this special project I’ve been given by my boss’s boss’s boss. But when I asked, he was actually able to grant me more hours in the day so I guess I can’t complain too much. But I really should be getting to bed. I need to squeeze in at least 2 hours sleep if I’m going to be working 28 hours tomorrow.

Speaking of things ruining my sex life (segue successful), I have serious wardrobe issues. All the outfits that Steph dressed me in years ago have all gotten lost or stained or I forgot how to match them with other stuff that I have. It was easy, I was told exactly what matched with what and how to wear clothes and when stuff was appropriate and everything. But now I’m trying new stuff out here and it’s tougher to try to fit into this Fantasy Island society also. So I’ve taken to trying some new techniques. I tried wearing this corduroy shirt with jeans and socks with sandals. My sister looks down and asks me if I’m seriously wearing socks with sandals. I tried to tell her that I was going for this “I don’t care what anybody thinks of me” look and how that was going to work for me. She agreed. Kinda…

Quote of the Day 12/11/06

"Yeah, it kinda has this ‘I’m definitely not picking up any chicks tonight’ thing going on.”

-Sisfish.


Looks like I’m going to need to tweak that outfit a little bit.

Sitting out the next dance,

Groinless in Ohio.


Still Standing Right Here…

The Republicants

The Republicants

Congratulations everybody! We did it! I think the most brilliant part of our strategy was having Kerry run against Bush so that he'd stay in office long enough to piss off America so bad that we'd overreact and vote for anybody who pretended to be a Democrat. Or at least a non-Republican. I think the Whig Party had a better shot at winning the House majority than the Elephants. Actually, I think the "Dress Up Like Your Favorite thirtysomething Character" Halloween Party had a better chance than the Republican Party. The Democrats employed their brilliant strategy of slowly backing out of the room while their brother was getting yelled at. And it worked! Victory is ours! After like 12 or so years, it's finally our turn to screw up the country. Tax and spend baby! There's already a bill proposed called "Only a Few Children Per Hundred Left Behind." Just like the good old days when I think I was left behind. I'm also looking forward to getting rid of that trickle-down economic theory where they give rich people all the money and hope that they give some to us or something like that. It's right there in the name of it – they're pissing on us. I want to see some "trickle-up" economics employed in the next couple years. That actually sounds a lot more difficult physically though. Maybe first thing in the morning I may have a shot at it. Truth be told, I get all of my political information from SportsCenter and Comedy Central. I think I stole something from Jon Stewart, Dennis Miller, Stephen Colbert and Rich Eisen just to write that last paragraph...

Quote of the Day 11/12/06

"A dictatorship would be a heck of a lot easier, there's no question about it."

-George W. Bush


The polls are in ladies and gentlemen…. And sleep wins! In a landslide.

My name is Dustin Fisher and I approve this message.

Sen. Dustin Fisher, (W-Ohio).


Still Standing Right Here...

National Dress Like a Slut Day

National Dress Like a Slut Day

I love Halloween. Especially in this town. And I think at least 85% of you know why. And no, it's not for the candy corn. That stuff sucks. Well, at least the white and orange parts suck. I'll eat the yellow part off the bottom, but that just seems rude. If there's anybody out there that only likes the top half, let me know. We can hang out tomorrow.

Sorry, got off track again. So yeah, it's not because of the mouth candy, but because of the eye candy. It's the one day of the year that it's socially acceptable to dress like a complete slut. It's really not, but I'm not going to be the one to tell them. Why ruin all my fun? And it is just laughable how they justify it by pretending it's something else. Really short black skirt and low cut dress that shows half your boobs? Wait, there's a tail and some black ears. Oh, you're a cat! Nice. You can come sit on my lap anytime. Same outfit in white showing off some of your actual ass every time you turn around. Oh, it's got a red cross on it. You're a nurse! Sweet. I'm ready for my sponge bath. An elastic headband worn as a skirt and a shirt tied in a knot in the front so everyone can see the tramp stamp on the small of your back? And boots up to your knee? And you have a gun? Oh, a cop! Sure, what the hell? Feel free to have a drink of my milk if you want (Sorry, still thinking about the kitty).

So that's the best part of Halloween. The other equally best part of Halloween is that I get to pretend to be somebody else. Somebody cool. And I get to wear eye shadow. I've started to become Captain Jack Sparrow. I just wish there were more opportunities in the year to dress up and act like a pirate. Actually, you don't act like a pirate so much as an alcoholic. And I guess I act like that enough days of the year (mom, I'm kidding. And I'm sleeping well too – they're just jokes).

So the following is a conversation that occurred this past Friday at a costume party. I had the Jack Sparrow outfit in full effect and the rum was nearing its end, which means less Dustin and more Jack. So anyway, it was brought to my attention that I needed a tattoo of a sparrow on my wrist to complete the ensemble. I asked out loud if anyone in the room was an artist…

Quote of the Day 10/30/06

Me: "Is anyone in here an artist?"
Kari: "I can draw."
Me: "Cool. Can you draw a sparrow on my wrist?"
Kari: "What does a sparrow look like?"
Some unidentified girl from the room: "She's going to draw a penis."
Me: "No, just draw any bird really and we'll pretend it's a sparrow."
Kari drew a penis on my wrist.
Me: "Well, at least give it wings."

I then had a penis with wings on my wrist.

I know why the rum's gone,

Captain Dick Sparrow.


Still Standing Right Here…

Immune System vs Poor Judgment

Immune System vs Poor Judgment

So I'm sorry to the few of you (including my mom and sister who was about ready to drive down to Baltimore to pick me up) who I may have misled, but this go-around is just a Baltimore thing. And I'm actually going to be there for a decent amount of time. As I said before, I'm flying back in for Big Ferg's wedding on Friday and there's also gonna be a Rock Star party on Saturday, but the rest is all up in the air as of now. Including how I'm getting back from the airport this Wednesday and where "back from the airport" is. So far the only ride offer I've gotten has been from Ferg, who is getting married two days later. That is a damn good friend right there. I also have a ride offer from Tom if I agree to give up Laverneous Coles for Lawrence Maroney, and I'm not kidding. So if anybody wants to do anything Wednesday night, starting approximately 5:57pm EST not counting delays, I'm game.

Anyway, I need to make this short because I'm tired as hell from not sleeping this entire weekend. This weekend was like a constant battle between my Immune System and my Poor Judgment. Bill's pullover and fleece: advantage Immune System. Deciding to sleep out under the stars instead of pitching a tent: advantage back to my Poor Judgment. Liner and temperature-proven sleeping bag: advantage Immune System. Drinking about 10 beers just before bed: HUGE advantage Poor Judgment. This battle is definitely not over. I'm curious to see how it plays out. It looked as if my Immune System was going to squeeze out a victory. Then I decided to play soccer today in the cold rain with shorts on after sleeping about 6 hours in three nights. And I don't know that you can even call that sleep. I don't even think I sleep at all anymore. There are just a few parts of the night where I don't pay as much attention as I normally do. But anyway, I'm determined to go to this wedding with hypothermia. I'll show that Immune System just how much stronger a team my Poor Judgment is. It won't see what hit it. OK, I gotta go. I may not sleep until I get there Wednesday at this rate.

Quote of the Day 10/16/06

Me: "Dude, don't worry about me getting cold [out on the river]. I actually repel water."
Justin: "Yeah, when he jumps in water, he doesn't get wet, the water gets Dustined."


Justin doesn't want too much credit for this one because he thinks he stole it. I don't care once again cause I'm still tired. I just sent this out because I still need a ride and a place to go.

Raging against the white blood cells,

Poor Judgment Man.


Still Standing Right Here…

Frozen Rapids

Frozen Rapids

I'm coming back east! That's right. Get prepared. Hide your children and your liquor and your little sisters (yeah, I went there). Anyway, I don't have a lot of time to talk about it now, but I'm coming in Wednesday night around 6pm (anybody want to give me a ride somewhere?) and I'll be here through the following Tuesday morning (ride back?). I'll be carless (anybody want to be my chauffer? Lend me a car?), but I'll have a lot of time.

I have a bad habit of scheduling these trips home months ahead of time and forgetting to tell anyone about them until I actually get to town. This is me not doing that. I'll tell ya more later and I'll see you all soon. But I have to run now to go freeze my ass off on some class 4 rapids. I have scheduled time to complain about that early next week.

Quote of the Day 10/13/06

Me: "How do they measure the class of rapids that a river is?"
Tony: "Number of deaths."


Yeah, I think I already used it, but it's funny and like I said, I'm under time constraints.

Catcha later, e-mail dudes,

Freezing Cricket.



Still Standing Right Here…

I Do... Eventually

I Do... Eventually

So there are a lot of people getting engaged right now. I don't think I'm going to get any vacations this year, just a ride around a massive wedding carousel. Among the 6 that I already have on my plate are my sister and my best friend Joe from high school. Now, I'm pickled as punch about my sis and J-Me, but I need to talk about Joe's impending doom for a sec, because it may affect more than just he and Becky.

See, the Four Horsemen (Kev, Mike, Joe and I) all kinda predicted the order in which we'd all get married after high school. And there was a very clear sequence in which this was supposed to happen. Kevin, Mike, me and then Joe. Kevin got married and that's all I'll say. The rest of us are still in the wading pool trying to figure out how to get to the deep end. Apparently Joe found a map. Or was given a map. Or got horse collared and drug to the deep end. I'm still not sure how it all went down. Anyway, this sacred event isn't happening until next September thankfully. This means that Mike has to hurry up and get his ass through the intersection so I can squeeze my bumper over the crosswalk before the damn light changes. At least he's got the head start of a girlfriend. I don't know that I've been on what could be considered a date since maybe March. I don't think people date in this town (please refer to my Brick Street rant if you want further clarification, that's not what I'm here to talk about right now). So I've got some work to do. Look out world! I have a five dollar bet I made 27 years ago to force to come true…

Quote of the Day 10/9/06

"Do you want me to invite you to my wedding or do you just want to crash it?"

- The Future Mr. Becky Titlow


I kinda want to crash it to be honest. But I still want to have food and a place to sit. So I just won't send my invitation back in. See Ferg, you're not the only one.

Crashing and burning,

Big Fish.



Still Standing Right Here…

Owen Wilson Wannabe

Owen Wilson Wannabe

So I've taken up the hobby of crashing weddings. It's not the lavish life that Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn lead exactly. They make it look easy. I also think they kinda ruined it for me before my career really got started. Because now when people hear that I'm crashing a wedding, they get that bedroom montage sequence stuck in their head and my game is shot. Just like how after Quick Change came out, you couldn't rob a bank dressed up like a clown anymore.

Anyway, so this wedding was only really a half-crash. Not like the full on crash that Bill and I pulled off last year. Jihna and Adam are actually friends of mine. And they knew I was coming. In fact, I crashed at their place the night before and night of the wedding. I think I just like to crash things. Nobody should probably ever get in a car with me. So Ian and Erin were both invited to the wedding and Erin couldn't make it. Ian thought I could just take Erin's invitation since the wedding was just down the road in Columbus. I tried to tell him that wedding invitations aren't like tickets to the O's game that you can just scalp to anybody you want to. But apparently I'm wrong and he was right. There's a first for everything. (Face!)

So I've found my niche at these functions. I'm the girlfriend sitter. I think it's because I like to dance and traditionally guys do not, but girls do. So if there is a couple out there and the guy knows me well enough, I can dance with his girlfriend. This is kinda what happened at this most recent wedding half-crash. So now my new approach is to find a hot chick and go hit on her boyfriend during dinner. That way he trusts me enough to dance with her when that part rolls around. Unfortunately, this will not lead to the bedroom montage sequence later on. At least not for me. I think I found a flaw in my problem. Fortunately, I'll have the opportunity to work on this like 23 times in the next year, starting with Ferg's in two weeks. He and Nina are engaged right now but he refuses to call her his fiancée…

Quote of the Day 10/8/06

"That's the French F word."

- The Future Mr. Nina Fergus.


Rant to quote correlation: Very High.

Crashing into my bed,

D Rec.

Still Standing Right Here...

Karaoke & Tramp Stamps

Karaoke & Tramp Stamps

Yes Sis Fish (my actual sister), there was a time in which the quote rant was a lead-in to the quote quote. And no, the giggle blink girl had nothing to do with the guy who hurt his ankle. I could make something up and I think I will from now on just to create a segue of continuity, but you are correct. I have too much to tell all of you and I don't want to be handcuffed to whatever I deem funny enough to be the quote of the day. I actually don't want to be handcuffed to anything other than Jessica Simpson's nightstand. And even then, I don't know that I'd enjoy it. She'd probably only be doing it to restrain me. Probably because I'd have broken in there. (I just reread this joke and don't like it, but also don't want to go back and type anything else)

Speaking of Jessica Simpson, I actually broke my promise of never going back to Brick Street. A buddy came back into town and he wanted to go uptown. By 12:30, Steinkellers was down to their last staff member, Skippers and 45 East were closed and Balcony was on fire again (that's a lie). So anyway, we wound up at Brick Street. But it was different this time. It was apparently karaoke night. And there was this hot chick up there doing a heck of a Dusty Springfield. Turns out I actually knew who she was. I talked to her and found out that there was a $100 prize that night. So I figured what the hell. I've make an ass out of myself many times before for free, why not do it to the tune of a possible C-note (that's what us gangstas call a hundred bucks). And so I got up there and screamed a shitty ass version of Keep Your Hands to Yourself and during the instrumental part, I did the jump split thing made popular in Ferg's and Milkman's apartment back in college. Picture Footloose at Aaron's wedding without Big Mike throwing me all over creation. So at the end of the night, it turns out I caught one of the judge's eyes (the guy, go figure) and actually won the main prize. Sadly enough, that is more than I made the entire day of work when I calculated it out. And thus, I have decided to give up my dream to be the best wiffleball tournament commissioner ever and tour the country going to bars doing good enough renditions of Georgia Satellites greatest hits. At least until my groin gives out mid-split. But for the moment, I am the King of Karaoke Night at Brick Street. Which happens to be the bar that most closely represents my personal seventh circle of Dante's hell. To be surrounded by hot young tattooed foxes and me without my snappy snare.

Speaking of tattooed chicks (how you like that, Actual Sis?), I got into the conversation with a few friends about a month ago talking about girls that have a tattoo on the small of their spine. Sure, we all heard Vince Vaughn say that it might as well be a bulls eye in Wedding Crashers (which will actually segue into my next message), but I just found out that they are also called "tramp stamps." It's not a flattering name, but I don't think it was intended to be. And so, I made a joke to the effect of "well, no wonder all my exes have them" which is barely funny and also a complete lie. But it begat this, which was worth the self degradation…

Quote of the Day 10/2/06

"I didn't think you were allowed to get tattoos until you were 18."

-E Hersh


That is what we in the business call a "cherry." It completes the joke sequence. Nothing can possibly go on top of the sundae after you put the cherry on it. And if any of our group of friends ruined that joke by trying to piggyback on it or "rejoke," we are required to squirt them with hot fudge and kick them in the chopped nuts.


Still Standing Right Here...

No I didn't take you off the QOTD list

No I didn't take you off the quote of the day list (aka, quote of the day 10/1/06)

Anybody out there see a week just wandering around lost? Because I seem to have lost a few of them.

Well, the dust has settled, but the smoke hasn't quite cleared yet. And the thought of using this mixed metaphor has led to an internal philosophical debate about whether dust would settle or smoke would clear first. This topic has been tabled for our next discussion. Among some other topics I will be covering in the upcoming month are as follows:

• The wedding I half crashed a few weeks ago
  
• My mom's first beer pong game
  
• The season 2 debut of Grey's Anatomy is NOT a National Holiday
  
• Back to Brick Street
  
• The new facebook stalking capabilities
  
• Does anybody on this list actually waste their time watching Deal Or No Deal?
• I am the world's greatest wing man
  
• My financial house arrest
  
• Setting Balcony on fire

So I recently met this girl we call the "Giggle Blink" girl. I didn't know what they were talking about until I met her, but it has since become abundantly clear. This girl only has two mental states. She's either giggling or blinking. She'll giggle and then immediately stop and her face will go blank and then she'll just blink. The giggling will start again and it will disappear and she'll go back to the blank face blink. She's very binary. But I don't think she'd know what that meant. I could tell her that and she'd probably just giggle. Or blink. But I can guarantee it probably wouldn't result in a conversation. However, she is pretty hot so I'll probably see her again.

Quote of the Day 10/1/06

Me: After a badly twisted ankle out on the soccer fields: "Do you have any feeling in your ankle yet?"
Guy: "Yeah. Pain."

It's not the best ever, but it's late and tonight is my night to sleep

Back for better or worse,

D Rec.


Still Standing Right Here...

The Dominoes Pizza Story

The Dominoes Pizza Story

Hey everybody. A year ago Monday, my dad passed away of lung cancer. I'm going to honor him with a story that sums up his personality. It's the story I opened my stand up routine with years ago and will again sometime this year in Cincinatti. It's the opening scene of the screenplay that I have written. It's a story I actually tried to reenact a couple years ago with a stubborn Papa Johns manager. It's known simply as "The Dominoes Pizza Story." I have a feeling you'll enjoy it.

Setting: Bridgeport, PA – August 1998ish, 9:30pm

So my pops is walking the mile home from the video store after working all day and passes a Dominoes Pizza store. He figures that he's hungry, why not stop in and order a pizza and take it back home. He tries to open the door. It's locked. The entire front of the place is all glass and he can see people inside throwing dough up in the air. So he bangs on the door. Somebody in there looks over his shoulder and points to a sign. The sign says " no walk-in customers after 9pm." I suppose they're intimidated by his bolo tie and plaid flannel shirt. So he yells inside "I just want to order a pizza!" They shrug their shoulders and go back to flipping dough. About a minute later, they get a phone call.

"Dominoes Pizza, how may I help you?"
"Yeah, I'd like a small plain pizza."
"Your name?"
"Glen."
"And where would you like that delivered?"
"Right here."
"Excuse me?"
"Hold on."
My dad walks over to the window and leans over to wave inside and yells "Hi!"
"Yeah, I'd like my pizza delivered right here."
"But we can't do that."
"Why not?! I'm here. I have money."
"But we need an address."
"Well, what's your fucking address?! Order it to yourself, just outside."
"I'm sorry, we can't do that."
"Let me talk to your manager."
(Manager takes over) "Sir, what can I do for you?"
"I'm trying to order a pizza and your pizza boy is giving me crap."
"Well, we can't order it to you outside for safety reasons."
"What safety reasons? I'll stand across the street if you want."
"Sir, I'm sorry but I will not deliver it to you unless you give me an address."
"Fine. 135 West Sixth Street."
"Is that your address, sir?"
"Yes it is."
"Are you going to be there?"…

Quote of the Day 8/21/06

"If you can give me a ride."

-Popfish.

He did not get a pizza that night.

And just to pad his stats and to catch myself up…

Quote of the Day 8/22/06

"Well, what's your fucking address? Order it to yourself, just outside."

-The Dad.

I also want to thank everybody for all your help and understanding last year at this time. I hope you know how much my family and I appreciate your support. And I hope you enjoy dad's stories. I'll pass a few more on to you so you guys can begin to learn why I am the way I am.

Love you pops,

Sonfish.

May your hands always be busy, may your feet always be swift.
May you have a strong foundation when the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful, may your song always be sung.
And may you stay... forever young.

I Hate Fuckin Brick Street

I Hate Fuckin Brick Street

I hate fuckin Brick Street. If any of you out there are really my friends, you won't make me go back there again. Like next time I'm at a party and somebody says "let's go to Brick Street," I'm just gonna go jogging or something. Something healthy. First of all, don't ever anyone try to defend going there by saying "I want to go dancing." Because that's not dancing. I've seen dancing and that's not it. That is holding a bottle of beer and spinning around. And those are just the classy people. The majority of the "dancers" there do what is closer to an erect form of lap dance (yes, I'm aware of the double meaning). It's not dancing. It's a mating ritual. And I can't stand guys that do this gay ass dance probably started by a movie with Vince Vaughn and/or Will Ferrell. The one where they grab their foot with one hand and the back of their head with the other and gyrate back and forth as if they're getting punched in the stomach and subsequently hit in the spine with a baseball bat over and over very quickly. This is probably closer to dancing than those girls who put their hands on their knees and move their booty around in concentric circles, but at least they give me something to look at. Does anybody out there see a guy do this dance and go "Sweet! That guy is cool!" Because I can't picture anybody I know who wouldn't want to hit the guy in the knee with a 4 iron. I just wanted to go up to this guy and just shove him. If it didn't knock him over and hurt him, at least he'd have to break form and stop doing that. There was this girl who was kind of attractive that I was thinking about going over to talk to since we shared the commonality of having friends out there who were "dancing" while we were sitting in booths wondering if we should just walk all the way home again or wait and hope that maybe somebody we know might leave soon and end this debacle. Then this guy comes over and does that retarded seizure dance and actually starts talking to the girl. And then they started making out. God, I hope he knew her because if that shit worked, I'm packing and leaving this stupid town tomorrow cause I don't have a shot. I mean I can do the seizure shuffle (this is the dance's new name), but I will never stoop to those tactics. I have too much pride in whatever actual ability I have to dance. So in case you have never been there, Brick Street is one straight up grindfest. And normally I'm too annoyed, sober or outnumbered to spin my game while there. I think I actually may be passed the days where going to clubs and grinding on college girls is the thing for me to do. Or maybe I'm passed the days where they'll let me. Either way, I think I'm passed the days. If you just look at the crowd from the upper level, it's like one organism. One giant horny organism. And I liken the chicks that go there to bees. They go from flower to flower, never satisfied with just one, until they get drunk enough to let the flower they pass out in to take her home and play with her stinger (too far?). Next time I go there (in case I don't have running shoes with me), I'm covering myself in pollen. I think that's my best shot. If nothing else, it will be something to remember the night by. Other than me walking home alone in the pouring rain writing this little diatribe in my head. Maybe the next day I'll run into some girl who will be like "Hey, you're that guy from Brick Street who covered himself in pollen, right? Cool." They say there's no such thing as bad publicity. I'll prove them wrong.

Where the hell was I? Ah, fuck it.

Quote of the Day 8/14/06

"Being single is like Bridge, no one knows how to play and old people are always giving you some skewed version based on what they think they remember."

-Sisfish (the real one)

Somebody call me if you want to go watch a movie Friday night. Or sit down and have an actual intelligent conversation.

Boycotting fun for a week,

Pollen Man.

Still Standing Right Here…

Idiot Tax: Revenge of the Savings Account

Idiot Tax: Revenge of the Savings Account

So I’m not feeling particularly funny today. This happens time to time. Like I wrote another e-mail and talked on IM for a while and I just wasn’t feeling it. It’s a lot like it is with sports. Some days the jumper is just falling and some days… it’s not (see, told you I wasn’t funny). But I need to tell you this story because it’s true and probably funny enough on its own that I can’t fuck it up with my mood.

I have my checking account linked to my savings account for overdraft protection purposes. This is nothing earth-shatteringly revolutionary by any means. I just do this should I accidentally lose track of exactly how much money I don’t have and take out more than I have in my checking. I also have my account set up to transfer a few bucks from checking to savings every 2 weeks. That way, I can earn up to 17 cents a month in interest (see, the funny isn’t working – I’ll just get to the story). Anyway, I checked my account today just to see how much money I don’t have. Turns out, it’s most of it. Some automatic transfer took more money out of my checking account than I had. So my savings account stepped up to the plate and saved the day (maybe that’s how it got the name “savings account”). It sacrificed some of its own money for the better of the team. And the bank only charged me $7 for this act of kindness. So I went to look at which transfer put me over the top. Car insurance? iTunes? Girls Gone Wild: Semester Abroad? Nope. It was the automatic debit that my savings account takes out every two weeks! (Say what?!)

To recap, my savings account tried to take more money from my checking account than was in there. When my checking account is threatened like that, my savings account deposits money in there to help out at a cost of $7 per transaction. So my savings account took too much out of my checking account so the same savings account had to put money into my checking account for it to take out. And my bank apparently charges my bank accounts $7 to play this fucked-up fiscal version of hot potato. The left hand didn’t take from the right hand, the left hand saw that the right hand didn’t have what it wanted, so it gave the right hand some of what it wanted, then took some of it back and threw some of it down the toilet. This is another example of idiot tax. But somehow I don’t feel like I’m the idiot this go-around.

Our camp was at Hueston Woods last week and I was taking pictures of the kids and counselors in the kayaks and out of the kayaks and stuff (man, I'm just really not hitting my stride today) and I pointed the camera at one of the counselors to try to get a shot of her with her towel folded up on her head to keep the sun off her face. She shoved her hand into the camera and said…

Quote of the Day 7/22/06

Jen: "No swimsuit shots."
Me: "What if I promise to only get you from the head up?"
Jen: "No, I don't really like my face either."

OK, how about the forehead up?

Bankless in Ohio,

Fishman.

Still Standing Right Here…

The Dangers of Day Camp

The Dangers of Day Camp

I got to work yesterday morning to find a loving note from my buddy Claire saying simply “sorry I broke your glasses.” I was touched. Especially when I had a very sincere conversation with her later that day in which she tenderly told me that her dad made her do it. But deep down, I know she didn’t really mean it. And so I was out at lunch with the kiddies again and Mikala called me over to witness their little sorority meeting. They were going through the rules of their sorority. “Rule number one – we don’t talk to Dustin. Rule number two – we REALLY don’t talk to Dustin. Rule number three – we REALLY REALLY don’t talk to Dustin. Rule number four…” By the seventh rule, I started to get the pattern. I decided standing there getting ridiculed by 10-year old girls wasn’t the best use of my time. And so I started playing with the boys. Their games were very straight forward. They were grabbing me by the feet and trying to make me drag them across the yard. I finally broke myself loose and inevitably it turned into a spirited game of Get Mr. Dustin. This is a game where I run away from the kids and they chase after me. I generally always lose this game one way or another. I can play Dante Hall in the yard and fend them off for a decent amount of time, but all it takes in one kid to catch up to me and weaken my defenses, and then the game changes from Get Mr. Dustin to A Young Adult’s Fight For His Life. This game comes with a warning that Mr. Dustin is not responsible for anyone injured as a result of me falling on them because of the hundreds of pounds of kids anchoring my balancing mechanisms and the other hundreds of pounds of them pushing my torso in different directions. Unfortunately, that warning encompasses myself also.

I have a friend named Erick who I don’t hear from very often, but when I do, he makes his presence known. He decided to chime in with his analogy amongst all of my recent attempts.

Quote of the Day 7/18/06

“Being single is like Texas Hold ‘Em. If you play like an idiot, you can confuse people into submission. Or lose all of your money. Or your pants.”

-Erick

If you think you can do better, chime on in.

Running into the sun but I’m running behind,

Extendo.


Still Standing Right Here…

Damn the DNA

Damn the DNA

Thank you all for your support/criticism/laughter in my very immediate direction in response to my first real weekend off the DL. I’m afraid I’m going to have to write about something else today since there has been no movement forward or backward on the female front since Friday night. Which is usually a step backward. But who knows with women? Apparently no movement can sometimes be a step forward. Which, by the way, is just stupid. I hate these silly games. This is nothing like euchre or asshole or any card game that I’ve ever played. This is like a blind squirrel in a dark room looking for a broken clock that probably doesn’t exist. If you’re into that game, go ahead and have a go. I’m going to go sit under a tree and wait for my watch to break (don’t look too deeply into that – it doesn’t mean anything).

Speaking of breaking things, there’s this girl Claire at camp who I have more of a soft spot for than I probably should. She has shown over and over now that she’s one of the most ornery and misbehaved (bad) kids at camp. And I’m such a softie (pushover). I have lost complete control over these kids. Seriously. I show up to an event and they all get out of the nice line the counselors spent 10 minutes getting them in and run over and steal my keys and visor and sanity. And I can’t get them to give it back. They stopped listening to me sometime ago. I noticed it last week when we were out in a canoe floating towards an oncoming jet boat and the two girls refused to give me the paddle or try to veer from the oncoming vehicle’s course. So I know it’s my fault and I let it escalate this far, but the inevitable happened. At lunch today, Claire reached up to try to steal my glasses and broke them in half. And there was no expression of remorse. In fact, she laughed and ran away with the half she had taken. This girl is 10. Let’s go back to the gender thing again. No boy at camp would do this. What is up with that second X chromosome? I suppose it’s good to know that it’s a DNA thing and we, as a gender, never had a shot.

Anyway, back to Claire. This is the type of person she is. They have this little mini-sorority that is basically premised on not talking to me. I’m not kidding. They have a pact to not talk to me unless it’s to say something mean. Instead of talking about philanthropy at their meetings, they plot on ways to tip me out of a canoe and take the keys to my car and throw them down a sewer grate. So one day, Claire was asking one of the female counselors what male counselors she wanted to date. The female counselor thankfully did not involve herself in this conversation. Claire went on to express her opinion...

Quote of the Day 7/17/06

“Well I like Chris, then Ben, then Mike, then Geremy, then somebody, then somebody, then somebody, then somebody, then somebody, then Dustin." -Unfair Claire

For the record, there are no other “somebodys.” Only 5 of us.

Living blurry for a week,

Glassless in Oxford.


Still Standing Right Here…

And Then There Were None

If you haven't read Nerds Gone Wild yet, it will make this a lot funnier.

And Then There Were None

Crap! I got pigeon-holed! Girl A called and wanted to hang out almost the second after I got done writing that last quote of the day. I asked what her other friends were doing and she said she wanted to just hang out with me. Well, this throws a serious wrench into my plans. Especially since Girl A is my only link to that crowd. So I bit the bullet and went to shoot pool with Girl A at Balcony. It’s cool that it was just the two of us because she didn’t want to have to compete with Girl B again and it’s cool that I bought every drink. And I tried to equal her flirtivity but I just couldn’t. And then Girl C came in. Girl C and I had been out a couple times in the last two weeks. Alright, D Playa. Time to dance. And I danced. And I can dance. I think I channeled the ghost of Jesse Ghiorzi, my old playa coach to help me out of that one. Situation diffused. But then it got tough.

Later at Bagel & Deli, I ran into Angie, the feminist I went out with a few times in January who was very drunk and very loudly wanted to know why I never called her back (Dustin life update: this has never happened before and probably will never happen again). It’s almost like every outstanding relationship I was in all collided on that night. I’m a little surprised Megan “I know who you are, I dated you for 7 months” O’Brien wasn’t behind the counter throwing alfalfa sprouts at me. And after all this mess, Girl A went home seemingly a little irritated and no longer interested.
So it turns out, I was right. I lost both of these girls and pissed off a few other people in the process. It’s only been a couple weeks and I feel like I already need a break. Looks like I’m not as good at euchre as I thought. Actually, being single is more like asshole. I have a vague idea how to play, but the rules change so much, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m sure I’ll compare it to another card game next week. Oh, and here’s what to say if you ever use that parking space analogy in front of any girl who says “Well, what about me…”

Quote of the Day 7/16/06

“Well, baby. You’re like a motorcycle spot. It’s a good spot, but not everybody drives a motorcycle.”

-Justin Somethingorother


Actually, I don’t really think that dug him out of trouble. But it was funny.

Back to the drawing board,

D Lonely.


Still Standing Right Here…

Nerds Gone Wild

Nerds Gone Wild

Ah, what the hell…

From zero to playa in 4 weeks.

Warning! Asshole alert ahead! Yeah, I can be an asshole sometimes. I’m gonna tell you about one of those times. It’s right now. And I have a few apprehensions about sending this out, so I hope you all appreciate the defamation of my own character for your amusement.

See there’s this group of girls (and guys) that I kinda randomly met playing volleyball this past Monday. They’re all college math geeks from all over the country here for a nerds gone wild trip for four weeks over the summer. I could tell this one girl was pretty into me. She was pretty cool. Her friends were also pretty cool (danger – fence straddling ahead!). Especially this one in particular. No! Stupid Dustin! Ah, what the hell… So we wound up at B Dubs late one night – me, the two of them and another quieter girl who didn’t make the cut (OK, now I’m just being cocky). Anyway, the first girl, who we’ll call Girl A was definitely making eyes at me that even an idiot (apparently) could see. But then the other girl (Girl B) who I liked got real drunk and took over the conversation. And I’m not one to shy away from vibrant conversation. The night ended up in us clearing away some tables and doing cheer routines. I was in. And thankfully I have an unbiased female confidant to help me interpret these signals like a good third base coach. She told me that they were probably both into me the way they both acted and then she proceeded to let me behind the curtain.

Apparently, there’s an inherent competition between females for a guys attention. Complete strangers, best friends, family members, it doesn’t matter. These females have some sort of code to try to vie for the attention of the other species. This code is very different from the male code, where if a female is showing interest, it is the other male’s responsibility to stay as far away from that situation as possible, even if it involves giving your friend the keys to your car and walking home. And looking back, now I see it. The more Girl B would talk to me and show me cheer moves, the more Girl A would reach across the table and pat me on the arm. So Jill says if I just feign interest in the both of them, I should be able to take my pick by week’s end, should that be what I want (jeez, I’m actually starting to want to slap myself). This is great news for me, because nobody is better in feigning interest than me. So anyway, I’ll keep you all posted on how this situation turns out (or I can just skip ahead in time and tell you that I’m gonna screw it up with both of them and probably piss some other people off in the process). But until then, I have hope. And that’s all I need. And alcohol.

And while I’m being an asshole, I may as well sell out another friend from a while ago…

Quote of the Day 7/14/06

“Women are like parking spaces. All the good ones are taken. And the rest are handicapped.”

-Keith D


Being single is like playing euchre for me. Just because I don’t like the game doesn’t mean I’m not good at it.

-Back in the game,

-D Playa.


Still Standing Right Here…

Tired and Sick

Tired and Sick

So I’m sick. Not really that sick, but enough to piss me off. And I’m so ridiculously inept at getting myself better, it’s ridiculous (I need a thesaurus). Like my throat has been scratchy for days and my solution was to eat more ice cream. I thought about gargling salt water for a sec, but there were ritz crackers by my bed which I figured would serve the same purpose. And when trying to figure out how I got sick, everybody asks if I have strange sleeping patterns. These people don’t know me. Or they do and are basically saying “duh.”

So I tracked it back to the night I drove to Cleveland and back and didn’t get to sleep until 8am and then had to get up the next… day(?) at 5am. Anyway, after waking up at about 4pm that day, I couldn’t fall back asleep until about 4:45am. I woke up 15 minutes later, confused as cranberries (that’s not a real saying – don’t use it and expect results) and unable to identify where that damn noise was coming from. Is it the alarm clock?... No, not the alarm clock… I glanced at my guitar... No, probably not the guitar… THE PHONE!!! Got it! It’s the phone… No, nope… it’s not the phone… Oh crap! It IS the alarm clock! Why the hell is it going off now? It’s still dark. I must have screwed something up somewhere. Oh no, wait a sec… No, I was right. Shit on a duck (also not a saying)…

So that is the origin of me being sick. It’s the residual effect of my favor. This favor is getting bigger with every day that passes by that I can’t choke down a yuengling.

So me and 43 kids went to the Beach Water Park a few Fridays ago. I know. It’s a rough job. I put in for overtime that day. So anyway, it’s our policy that all the kids have on suntan lotion when they are outside. My jeep actually has that same policy now. Anyway, most of the kids left theirs on the bus, I think mostly because I told them to (oops). So I let the kids in my group borrow mine (like they’re going to give it back). It’s 60 spf, which is apparently very high in the world of suntan lotion. I know it’s more effective than 4 spf. So Jaci was helping one of the girls put it on and she had never seen suntan lotion this thick…

Quote of the Day 7/11/06

“Is this glue?”

-Smart-alec Claire.


Hey you little runt! You try peeling off two layers of your own skin for two weeks straight and see how you feel about using glue to keep the sun from having a B-line to your bones! No wonder nobody likes you.

Sick as a dog (and that is a saying… but why?),

Big Fish.


Still Standing Right Here…

Europe is the One on the Left, Right?

Europe is the One on the Left, Right?

So did anybody else pretend to like soccer for a couple hours today? I actually went a step further and pretended to like the French. I don’t know why. Maybe because I like their fries. Yeah, that reminds me. Are we done calling them freedom fries now? That never really caught on like republicans had hoped it would. Probably because the French have more than just fries and that’s a lot of menu changes. Freedom Bread. Freedom Toast. Freedom Onion Soup. OK, this French guy just head butted an Italian guy in the chest. Not a shove or a punch or even a kick. That’s pretty damn funny, however unsportsmanlike it is. The French don’t even fight the right way. I guess we could have figured that out after WW2.

So it looks like one of those European teams won. It was Italy this year, but I’ll probably forget that by next week. They’re honestly all the same to me too. Maybe I should care a little bit more about global geography than that, but it’s not like they know the difference between our states anyway (and yes, I know that’s not equivalent). When I went to Scotland and told people I was from Philadelphia, almost without exception, they all referenced the Tom Hanks movie and called me a fag. It was the only time in my life I actually lied and said I was from New Jersey. It was just easier and they weren’t as willing to call me a fag. But some still did anyway. Don’t know how I got that reputation in Scotland, I swear.

…using my ignorance of global geography as a transition…

About a year ago, I was trying to talk about one of the UMBC intramural guys, but I didn’t know his name. I was like “you know, the Asian guy that plays basketball with Ozell and talks a lot…”

Quote of the Day 7/9/06

“You men Vlade? He’s Russian, not Asian!”

-Basketball Blaine


OK, what continent do you think Russia is in?

Back to pretending I like baseball until August.

Dustin McNabb.


Still Standing Right Here…

Protection Is For Winners

Protection Is For Winners

Well, I just had my first funny laptop experience and I think you all will appreciate this. Unfortunately it isn’t about me being an idiot, but quite the opposite. It’s nice to have one of those stories once in a while.

So I was playing internet poker tonight. And this afternoon. And all yesterday. And it’s not really that I’m addicted to gambling so much that I’m addicted to winning and losing money. Anyway, I was about halfway into a tournament and had a decent chip stack when my internet cut out. I suppose that’s what I deserve for stealing my internet signal to begin with. And if you’re the kind of person who has a problem with that, replace the phrase “stealing my internet signal” to “get off your moral high horse and join the rest of the capitalist world, Mr. Holier-Than Thou.”

So yeah, my signal cut out and I had $5 on the line here. I tried reconnecting to a few other signals around the area with no luck. So I figured what the hell? I unplugged my computer, grabbed my keys and jumped in the jeep driving around town looking for an unprotected wireless signal. It didn’t take too long. And so I pulled over and parked and started playing again. Top off the jeep, sitting in my pajamas on the side of the road at about 1am on a Saturday night playing internet poker. No, I’m not addicted at all. These two girls walked by, obviously trashed, and I started to panic. For some reason, I thought I needed an excuse so they didn’t think I was weird (good luck). Nothing came to mind, so I just sat as still as possible and pretended they couldn’t see me. Like a tree. An invisible tree. In a car. With a computer screen illuminating my bark. I know they could and I know they did because they stopped talking and laughing when they walked by. And their heads turned. And then they proceeded to run. And I didn’t recognize them, but I’m sure they recognized my jeep because they probably lived on my block. So when I find out who they were, I’ll be sure to add them to the list of chicks I’ve completely lost my chances with. I’m going to need more paper.

So then I lost my stupid tournament. I’d like to blame the surroundings, but I lose a lot worse than that in the confines of my own frequently stolen frequency. I was talking to Bill last week about our internet situation and how even after Mark moved out from next door, we still had a signal that we could pick up, but I just wanted to make sure that borrowing someone else’s signal was ok with his ethics…

Quote of the Day 7/8/06

“The way I see it, it’s their fault for letting their radio waves go through our house.”

-Indiana Wilcox

If you think about it, it would be rude not to let us use those signals that are pervading their way into my bedroom. Intrusive damn radio waves!

Tryin to break even,

Busted Nuts.


Still Standing Right Here…

Indy-Friend-ance Day

Indy-Friend-ance Day

So this Independence Day started out just like any other day. I woke up on top of my blankets with my pants on and a vague recollection of karaoke, water towers and doing splits on the stage of Brick Street. I had to call my neighbor to find out who drove us home and I crossed my fingers that I didn’t lose my glasses, credit cards or self-respect last night. Then I woke up and watched Monk for 7 hours. What an awesome day.

Fast forward ahead to the barbeque with brisket, banana pudding and raspberry muffins shaped like penises (we’ll talk more about this later). I got a phone call from my best friend from high school who asked me if I could come pick him up and drive him back to his car. He was in Cleveland. Four hours away. I’m not kidding. He wasn’t kidding. Nobody was kidding. Not even him. Trust me, I asked again. All Mike would tell me is that there was nothing legally or medically wrong and he knew the magnitude of what he was asking me. He was at Jacobs Field watching the Yanks play the Indians. So I was putting the top on my jeep trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Was he in some gang trouble? Did Derek Jeter steal his car keys? Was he so upset over the 19-1 drubbing of the Yanks that he slashed his own tires in disgust? (19-1? Was that even a baseball game?) Well, I’m a good friend so I wasn’t going to ask. Besides, the only single chick at the party who hadn’t already turned me down was about to leave. So I took off towards Cleveland. Meanwhile, Mike had convinced his girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend to start to drive him south to meet me. He’s apparently trying to win the ex-boyfriend of the year award.

So I got back home around 4am. The fireworks were apparently all over. But for about 15 minutes just north of Dayton, God had his own display that was pretty impressive. Good to know he’s a patriot. And this quote was from a while ago, but I like it a lot and it’s a great one to remember if you’re in relationship…

Quote of the Day 7/4/06

“Just because I don’t remember doesn’t mean I wasn’t listening.”

-Mikey “Owes Me a Favor” Conover. J


All the deer were hiding from me last night too. The word is out.

America’s beacon of freedom,

Captain Extendo.


Still Standing Right Here…

Father of the Weird

Father of the Weird

Hey guys and whatever it is the other gender wants to be called this week (women, females, hotties…). This quote of the day pretty much wrote itself. Actually, I guess Stryker wrote it. But the point is that it was very little work for me. Which is awesome because I’ve been here since 5:30am and my batteries need recharging. This was in reference to Geoff having a child in the last e-mail “Yes, RUPERT (at least it’s not Stryker).”…

Quote of the Day 6/29/06

“Hey, I'm smart enough to KNOW not to breed. Those little turd factories are expensive!”

-The Fatherless Stryker


And Cathy is on this list too. I hope I didn’t just start an awkward conversation. :)

Sleeptyping,

Mr. Whistlehead.


Still Standing Right Here…

Father of the Beer

Father of the Beer

Well, I’d like to thank all of you (those that did) for writing me back and shit. Good to know that whining is still as strong a form of motivation as ever. And actually, I only sent out that last message because I wanted to use the word “underwhelming” in a sentence (you already used that joke, doof). Now I at least have enough phone numbers to fill up my 10 speed dials.

OK, here’s some news for you. There is a new baby in this world who’s well-being I fear for. Her name is Molly Mckenzie Rupert. Yes, RUPERT (at least it’s not Stryker). For those of you who know this Geoff Rupert character, I don’t need to go into details about why I’m scared. For those of you that don’t know this guy, I’ll try to draw you a picture. Start with a picture of me. Take my fear or at least blatant resistance to commitment and give that person “game.” Now add a few inches and years and communicable diseases (j/k, we have about the same amount). This is the guy who was out drinking with us at his wedding about 2 minutes before Julie walked down the isle. Maybe less. Later on, his father was giving a speech at the reception and Geoff was doing shots in the back room. Mike tried to drag him into the main ballroom to hear his dad. Geoff stopped, listened for a few seconds and started back to the bar…

Quote of the Day 6/27/06

“What? He’s not even talking about me.”

-Father Rupert


Well Molly, maybe you can do to him what none of us could so far. Congrats, Geoff. Now when camp parents ask if you have any kids, you can finally put them in their place.

The proud father of a 10-year old (attempted) humor column,

Quorax.


Still Standing Right Here…

The Blue Pill

The Blue Pill

Hey peeps. I just wanted to send out a quick hitting quote since I’ve been here for over 7 hours and just now realized that I had today off. Also, I figure if I keep this short enough, you might read it, which I am starting to doubt after that underwhelming response with the phone numbers thing (Ed note: he just wanted to use the word “underwhelming”). Though it is truly strange the completely random people that still read this. Like I got very few responses from all my buds back in B-more and friends from high school, but Matt Anderson and Shannon Spence, who I haven’t seen in a collective total of close to 17 years, both gave me their phone numbers. And I think I got about 17 responses from all over the place. Guess I’m just gonna have to call them and start hangin out with them when I go back to B-More now. :)

We were out playing our summer softball league with the team that drinks during the games and literally shows up in a jet boat with a horn on their truck that had me looking around for train tracks. Anyway, I told them that I didn’t want to see any alcohol on the field. They thought this meant that they could bring it out in red cups. Idiots. Well, they got smarter last game and showed up with McDonalds cups. Brilliant! Anyways, one of those guys hit a line shot up the box right back at the pitcher. He flashed his glove in front of his face probably just as a reaction to not die, and came up with the ball in his glove…

Quote of the Day 6/26/06

“He chose the blue pill.”

-Mike the not drunk guy


The second baseman chose the red pill and got nailed in the face.

Finished my 7 hours of volunteer work,

D Rec.


Still Standing Right Here…

Sore Loser

Sore Loser

I decided I am going to try to work out more consistently to keep up with these college kids out here so I can still pretend that I am one. I actually went rock climbing for the first time ever. I lasted 8 minutes and I couldn’t even grab a pencil. Then I went running for the first time since I started fucking up my body back in January. I can’t even tell you how many body parts hurt (Ed note: it’s at least 5). I was kind of interested to see which one would hurt first. Like I felt like I should be placing bets. Would it be the old Achilles? The new Achilles? The groin? The shoulder (who knows with me running)? Well, it turns out I am just out of shape. I feel like I’ve gained a little weight since I’ve been sitting on my ass since January. And my first thought while I was running was “Damn! I have to lose some weight before I go running again.” Maybe it sounds stupid, but I’m not kidding. And my forearms are still killing me. I can’t even type. I’m dictating all this to my secretary (administrative assistant, thank you).

I got to talking with an old pal Fred Frey about maybe going backpacking at Zion National park for 3 days in late July and we argued about whether or not I was in shape enough to do this. He insists I’m in better shape than most of the other guys going. I’m trying to tell him that I haven’t even walked up a hill in like 2 years. So I may just catch up with them when they go to Vegas afterwards. It reminded me of the day that Tony and I woke up early, hiked down and back up the Grand Canyon, and drove 5 hours to Vegas just for the night. We were both sore as shit and in lots of pain after that hike…

Quote of the Day 6/25/06

“I’ll probably be the only person in Vegas tonight going to a massage parlor for a legitimate reason.”

-Tone-Def.


Well, that depends on your definition of legitimate.

Born to be sore,

D Rec.


Still Standing Right Here…

Grilled Venison

Grilled Venison

So some real shitty things happened this weekend. I was driving out to PA to help Erin move into her new home and her new life this weekend. It's a seven hour drive from here to there (which is how I measure distance). I started driving with the top off and no shirt and very quickly thought to myself "Do I want to pull over to get some sunscreen or do I want to get sun poisoning on over half my body?" So I pulled over at this Sunoco. I didn't expect a huge array of options, but the only thing they had was this "Native Tanning Oil" thing in this brown bottle shaped like a flask. It was SPF 4, which is the equivalent of pouring a Coors Lite all over me. But it's all they had, so I oiled myself up. Most of you probably know how this is going to end. If you thought "second degree burns," you win. Yeah, I got the damn sun poisoning anyway. Like, the first layer peeled off and the skin under that in sunburnt. Well, now I know. As do you. I was wondering why there was a picture of a Haitian guy on the bottle.

Then on the way home, I was about 5 hours later than I wanted to be and it was 11pm before I even hit the eastern side of Ohio. And then it was about 11:15 when I hit a deer that really thought he could take on my car at 70 mph. And probably closer to the truth is that he hit me. He came flying in from the median like Ray Lewis. But the jeep didn't go down as easily as Willie Parker. I fucked that deer up. And the jeep took it like a champ. Just a minor dent in the wheel well and the bumper is only bent enough to tell if you knew I hit a deer. I'm going to spare you the gory details because they're not funny. Suffice to say that the jeep walked away and the deer did not. And then I start to think about all the cars behind me and if they had hit that deer. Their car would probably be totalled. I started to think that as a service to society that I should just go out and start hitting all the deer I could find. Like start chasing them through fields and crap. And people should pay me. Not a lot, but at least something. Whatever they paid Batman.

Quote of the Day 6/22/06

"You know, there just aren't enough coyotes anymore. Maybe you should start doing their job."
-Sethmo


I'm naming my jeep the Metal Coyote.

Looking up the laws for vehicular deerslaughter,

Coyote of the Sun.


Still Standing Right Here...

The Middle Half

The Middle Half

Hey! Friends! Do you all read this anymore? I only send it out every like... well it's hard to even pretend to find a quote to day ratio, but you get my point. Why do I have people coming up to me asking how I melted my cell phone? That was my super idiot story of 2006 and apparently some of you are too cool/busy/illiterate to read it. Maybe it's just so memorable to me because every time I go to open the oven, there's a picture of a cell phone with a big red diagonal line through it. And then there's a picture of a brownie with a big green circle around it. I really need to get a computer at home.

Yeah, so anyway, I melted my phone. Which means I melted all your numbers along with it. So I can't call any of you anymore. Except for Mike, my mom and Papa Johns in Arbutus. Those are the only phone numbers I have committed to memory. And yet I still have the same phone number. I didn't melt my cell phone plan in the oven, Jill. So here is my favor I need to ask of you. CALL ME! Or write me with your phone number if you don't need to/have time to/ever really want to talk to me. Or else I'll never be able to get a hold of you. Which will probably be fine for everybody who circled the last part of that last sentence.

OK, I have a lot of crap to tell you all about but I'm going to keep this one short because of the importance of the phone number thing and I don't want anybody intimidated by my length (heh). So this thing comes from a nut job that works in our office who used to be a football coach at school here. Apparently he was cursing out the computer and printer and everything else that couldn't defend itself because the middle part of his document (the part he needed) didn't print out. He storms into my office in a befuddled mess holding two pieces of paper three feet apart and asking me why a printer would do such a thing...

Quote of the Day 6/21/06

"You see, it printed out the top half, and it printed out the bottom half, but why didn't it print out the middle half?"

-Wak-Man


I had to explain to him the definition of the word "half." I still don't think he understands.

One and a half times the average man,

Wordsmith.


Still Standing Right Here...

Reporting to Mini-Camp

Reporting to Mini-Camp

Good morning! ... I said good morning! ... When I said that in previous summers, 180 kids would shout "good morning" right back at me. Now I have 45 kids staring at me asking me why I keep yelling at them. It's not nearly as good for my ego. But then I beam them in the head with a big sponge ball and that brings my ego back up. You'd think they'd learn to just shout "good morning" at me. Stupid kids.

So yeah, it's another year of day camp. I had last summer off and I gotta say that I really missed the kids. Not so much the angry parents. Or the health inspector. Or the pink eye. But the kids (at least 30% of them), I sure missed. And this camp is so much smaller than the one I'm used to. I miss the complete chaos of 180 kids running around one basketball court with balls, hula hoops and tiny body parts flying everywhere. And Mike has got this camp run so efficiently that there is no chaos. This is no fun for me. I need the chaos. And I'm no longer the camp director. So I'm trying to figure out exactly how I fit into this camp. I kinda see myself as the camp's uncle. Like I'll go and play with the kids and talk to the counselors and stuff, but if anything really goes wrong, I just give them back to Mike. Here. This is your kid. You handle it. Mike on the other hand is pretty stressed out, or at least busy, as evident from his quite serious question he posed to me on the first day of camp last week...

Quote of the Day 6/14/06

"Dustin, is it still Monday?"

-Mr. Mike


Reminds me of when I turned to Ruchelle earlier this year and asked her if it was still 1998.

Making faces back at the kids,

Uncle Mr. Dustin.


Still Standing Right Here...

Stupid Squared

Stupid Squared

You need to read this one. Especially if you liked the one where I lost my keys in my pocket. The following are posts on Erin's myspace page exactly as they appear because I think it's funniest this way.

>>>

6/1/2006 5:50 PM
Hey cutie! Always happy to host my east coast contingency here in the exact focal point of nowhere. Especially one that looks like you do in that penguin suit. Well, good luck with your big job decision. Call me when you figure that out. Hopefully my phone will have dried out by then. I left it in my jeep overnight and a thunderstorm hit us. Guess I should have left the top on. It's in the oven right now. I hope that's a good idea.

6/1/2006 6:02 PM
I know it sounds stupid, but a buddy of mine at work who knows a lot more about stuff like this (you know, compensating for stupid mistakes by making bigger ones) told me that as long as I remember to take it out before somebody started to pre-heat the oven, that it should be fine. OK, Kim needs her computer back and I should go check on the phone now anyway.

6/2/2006 4:58 PM
Don't know about chess. I still don't have anything in my house that isn't better at being an end table than a computer. And I can't even play by phone since I baked mine in the oven last night. Apparently "warm" doesn't mean 250 degrees. :(

6/3/2006 4:12 PM
Yeah, it looks about like you'd think a cell phone baked in the oven for 20 minutes would look like. I'll send you a picture. What the hell was I thinking? I burnt a pizza in there just Tuesday night. I'm gonna shove it up Don's ass when I see him again. But strangely enough, when I plugged it in, the screen lit up and said "battery required" or something like that. Unfortunately, the battery won't fit in there in the phone's current shape. Maybe if I cooked it a little while... (and the circle of idiocy keeps turning)


Quote of the Day 6/3/06

"You should tell that guy he's not allowed to give advice anymore."
-Soon to be ex-roomie Kim

Yes, there is a way I actually did that. Maybe one day I'll tell a story about when I did something smart.


Suspending my brain's pay for the rest of the week,
Dumbstin.


Still Standing Right Here...

Nerds Untie!

Nerds Untie!

Let's just call a spade a spade. And I'm even late for the month too. Sorry to my loyal fan base and thanks for holding up your end of the bargain, being just annoying enough with the "what happened to the quote?" "why did you take me off the list, you prick?" and "you realize nobody likes you anymore since you stopped typing to us" to get me to try to remember what my life's purpose is again.

Now this message is going to be two things at once. I have a lot of computer nerd friends on here (I mean that in the best way possible for people I'm asking favors from) and I need one of them to recommend a good computer. Here are the specs: I need it to be able to play Worms and online poker but nothing stupid like Everquest or Doom (I mean stupid in the most loving way possible). I need it to run Photoshop and iTunes and obviously stuff like Wordpad and Calculator if possible. I do NOT need it to download porn anymore. I think I got it all and I'm not too impressed with the new stuff anyway. And I need a CD burner and an internet connection of some kind.

I still have my old Frankenstein computer and it was worth the $200 I got it for from Powdered Toast Man, but if you don't reformat it twice a year, it won't let you be connected to the internet and use the mouse at the same time (he's not kidding). And that's just the beginning. And since my neighbors moved out, we can't steal their internet anymore anyway. And in case there are any cops or people seriously ethically opposed to that out there, you can replace the word "steal" with "get off your moral high horse, you aren't any better than anybody else." So that's why you haven't heard from me. After slaving away all day on the kickball field (and the bars), I just can't hang out in this damn place for another freakin second. Not when Deal Or No Deal is on 19 days a week. Anybody sick of them slamming down the little glass thing and saying "No deal!" yet? How long can that possibly be interesting?

Oops. Off track there a bit. Anyway, if somebody out there can hook me up with that computer for somewhere in the neighborhood of $500, I'll give you a cut of whatever I can sell the ole POC PC for. Thanks. NERDS UNITE! Ha. When I originally wrote that, I wrote "Nerds untie!" That's funny.

OK, I want to write this one about the Indy 500 before we get to far away from it. I was talking with Mikey Con-Man who recently moved to Indy and got to meet Mario Andretti because of his line of work (serving fish to old rich people). We were talking about the sunburn that people got from going to that race for 7 hours or however long those silly things (I mean that in the most fun type of silly possible) last. I told him that the blacktop basically functions as the focal point of the sun on days like that, but he brought up the point that nobody he knows was really on the blacktop, which was an excellent point.

Quote of the Month 5/06

"If you were on the blacktop, you'd be red alright. But it wouldn't be from sunburn."

-Mikey Conover


It's a good starter quote to get me back on track (pretend that wasn't an intentional pun - actually two - and you may still respect him).

Computerless in Southwest Ohio,

Dutty.


Still Standing Right Here...