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...