"Great post"

In my last three posts I have received 2 comments total. They have both amounted to: “Great post.”

I really don’t know what to make of this. First of all, up until this point I have never received such a comment. Are these comments from people who simply really liked what they just read and had to tell me? Are they made because a person felt a post was comment-worthy but didn't have anything else to say? Did the person just want to make sure I know at least one person is reading?

Let’s review the two comments:

The first one was for the “Guns in your face” post. It was from some random person who stumbled here. That post must have really had a profound effect on him. Whenever I come across a random blog and read something I enjoy, I don’t ever feel the need to drop a “great post” comment. Maybe he just really liked it. Maybe he felt I gave him a piece of advice that might come in handy sometime down the road and needed to thank me. That’s not necessary, but I do appreciate it. Thank you. Just remember: if someone tries to kidnap you at gunpoint, poop your pants.

Next, I got a decidely uncharacteristic “great post” from Daddy on yesterday’s post. I was expecting something more like “I wonder what it would be like if the 9 foot tall guy fucked the fat twins in the butt.” Something like that, except he would be a lot more descriptive and come up with a term for a really tall, skinny person having sex with a morbidly obese person in the butt. Like “stickballing” or something. But no, all I got was “great post.” Maybe he just wants me to know he’s still reading. That’s good to know. Thanks, Daddy.

Maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about it this deeply. It just seems odd that I got two nearly identical comments within a week or so, while not receiving any other comments.

I really appreciate the feedback, though.

Thanks.

Random thought googling.

I was watching "VH1: I love the 80's: 1980" this past weekend. I actually think it is the third edition of: "I love the 80's".

The 70's and 90's only have one edition each. I guess the 80's was just a kickass decade.

One of the subjects the C-list celebrites reminisced about was the movie "The Elephant Man," which came out in 1980. This was a biopic about John Merrick. I'm sure you've heard about him. He lived in the late 1800's and was grotesquely overgrown on his right side (the circumference of his head was three feet).



I googled him and learned that he had to sleep sitting up or else he would suffocate because his head was so huge. He died at 27 when he accidentally fell asleep lying down. I knew he died young but I thought it was a direct, rather than indirect, result of his disease.

That got me thinking about the world's tallest man, Robert Wadlow (he was 8'11", I bet he could dunk), because he also died young. He was 22.

(Yes, I knew what his name was, I knew exactly how tall he was, and I knew that he died at 22. Unfortunately no one has ever asked me the following series of questions: "Hey, do you know the name of the world's tallest man? How tall is he? Is he still alive? How old was he when he died?")



So I googled him. I also thought he died as direct result of his condition, but it turns out he died of an infection in his foot. It wasn't caught in time because he couldn't really feel his feet because he was so huge. His feet were size thirty-seven. Thirty-fucking-seven. I wonder how big his dick was. His shoes had to be custom-made. So did his clothes. Obviously.

That got me thinking about the Guinness Book of World Records. I think it's been a good 15 years since I looked at one of those. Remember how in elementary school every year there was a book fair and everyone would always get the Guinness Book of World Records? I'm pretty sure the 1988 and 1989 editions are lying around my parents' house somewhere. I don't think anyone has ever read anything in that book. Everyone just flips to the pictures of the fat people and the guy with the long, curly fingernails.

I think the image that is most ingrained in my mind (and everyone else's) from that book is the fat twins on the motorcycles. Their names are Benny and Billy McCrary, although they are best known as "the fat twins on the motorcycles."

The picture is pretty famous and shows them laughing it up, wearing cowboy hats, and, um, riding motorcycles. Together they weighed over 1,500 pounds. This led me to ask, who the hell built those motorcycles? So I googled it.


Damn, those are some nice looking pants.

Honda built the motorcycles.

The McCrarys were doing a promotional tour for Honda where they rode the motorcycles across the country, riding 100 miles each day for 30 days. Honda must make some ultra-durable motorcycles. I know if I ever want a motorcycle I'm going to look for the Honda fatass edition.

They weighed in at 814(Benny) and 784(Billy) pounds. Those are their official weights. You would think at that point their official weights would be "about 800." Nope. They weighed exactly 814 and 784. I don't know, they look pretty identical in weight to me. I wonder where Benny hides it. He doesn't look a shade over 800. I wonder if he's jealous of Billy.

Do you think Benny ever asked Billy if he could borrow some clothes and was met with: "Fuck no. I don't need your fat ass stretching out my pants." ?

Here is a picture of them raping some poor fellow:



Actually they were wrestling him in a controlled environment. They were professional wrestlers. I bet you didn't know that. Thanks to Google, now you do.

Although they both died a long time ago, they still hold the record for World's Fattest Twins. I bet they are plugging along in heaven on those Honda motorcycles.

So then I googled Guinness Book of World Records. The first edition was published in 1955. The managing director of the Guinness brewery, Hugh Beaver, got into an argument with his hunting buddies about the fastest species of gamebird. They couldn't settle the argument using existing reference books so Beaver commissioned the Guinness book.

You also might like to know that the longest fingernails on record are over 20 feet long, and the dude is still growing them. It's the same guy from when I was 10. His left hand is permanently disfigured from supporting the weight of the fingernails and he has nerve damage. Hey, that's the price of being able to say: "I have the longest fingernails in the world."



Yes, these are the things I think about, and yes, I typically google my thoughts.

Speaking of Google, when I started this blog way back in 2005, I never imagined someone would end up here by googling "dudes in showers." As of this writing, I am the internet's number two source for "dudes in showers." I hope the googler in question wasn't disappointed, but he probably was, seeing as his visit time was "0 seconds."

At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if before I'm done here someone finds this by googling "hot sticky rimjobs."

I drive a Dodge Stratus.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving was fun.

The mom, the dad, the sister, the sister's husband, and the sister's daughter all came to visit for Thanksgiving. My 99-year-old grandma that lives 15 miles away always hosts. No, she doesn't cook. She has it at a hotel near her house. It's a big Thanksgiving buffet.

Most of her 5 kids, 16 grandkids and 15 great-grandkids were there, along with their significant others and such. My dad was 3rd of the 5 and I was 13th of the 16. That's all the family details you get.

Ms. Brick and I went to the gym Thursday morning before heading to T-giving. She made sure to do at least 500 calories on the treadmill so she would have enough calories saved up to afford that cheesecake she wanted to eat. Unfortunately, there was no cheesecake.

The food was pretty good. They had the standard stuff, as well as other stuff like shrimp and smoked salmon. The shrimp still had the shells on it, so I made sure to take a lot of them because consumption would take a little bit of extra effort. I made it out of there with little to no damage. I didn't have to unbuckle my pants after and I only had one piece of pie. Okay, two.

My dad's little sister made us play dumb trivia games and do dumb skits. Luckily, the family knows I don't talk so I wasn't asked to participate. I like dumb stuff.

I hung out with my family and did nothing for the rest of the weekend. The immediate family came over and hung out at our place on Friday and Ms. Brick made this shrimp/spaghetti thing for dinner. My mom doesn't like shrimp. I don't know why. It sure seems like I eat a lot of shrimp, but I really don't. I think I have mentioned shrimp eating about six times on this blog.

My sister's daughter is 13 months old and I played with her a lot. I like hanging out with small children because you don't have to talk to them and tell them stuff and they don't judge you. Also, they are easily amused. Also, I have the social capacity of a 3-year-old.

Then some other stuff happened.

I don't feel like writing anymore.

Guns in your face.

I am one of those losers that frequent the twoplustwo forums "other other topics."

This is that magical place where people ponder such important topics as: "Will I die if I sleep in a tub of butter?" and "How do I fold a button down shirt properly?"

Yeah, I don't really go to the twoplustwo poker strategy forums too much. Or ever.

There was one thread posted on OOT that I thought was important to share with my readers. All four of you. Here is the link to the thread. The story is pretty frightening and the responses range from idiotic to informative. Have a look.

Basically what happened is this guy was sitting with a friend at a bus stop. A man pointed a gun on them and told them to get into a car. They did so. He stripped them of their valuables. He then drove them to ATM machines and instructed them to empty their accounts. They did so. Luckily, their accounts didn't have lots of money in them. He then left them and drove away.

The robber ended up with their wallets, keys, phones, and about $500 in cash. The victims immediately called the cops and cancelled their credit cards, cell phones, and ATM cards.

This raises the question:

What would you do if someone pointed a gun in your face and told you to get in a car?

Prior to yesterday, I probably would have gotten in the car because I have been conditioned to believe that I should do whatever someone holding a gun tells me to do. Either that or I would have kicked the gun out of his hand, showcased my martial arts skillz in a 4-minute choreographed karate fight, eventually killing the gunman with my kung fu death grip, and then have sex with Jessica Alba. Wait, hold on. Yeah, I probably would have gotten in the car.

Apparently that is the wrong thing to do.

These guys were incredibly lucky to get out alive. I couldn't find any hard data on this, but the consensus seems to be that if you get into a car with a stranger holding a gun on you, your chances of survival are about 10%, because he probably wants to do more than just take your money. I didn't know this prior to yesterday. But it makes sense when you think about it.

Do whatever you can to not get in the car. Toss your wallet and run, yell "Fire!" repeatedly and wave your arms, fake a seizure, whatever. I know a lot of this depends on what environment you are in, but don't go peacefully into the car. In the situation above, the victims were on a busy street, so I think running would have been the best option. But, as I said, if I was one of those guys, I probably would have gotten into the car, too.

Sure, if you do any of the things I suggest above, you might get shot. But, if you do get shot, chances are you would have gotten shot later anyway.

Also, I think you have a better chance at surviving a gunshot to the back while running away than you do of surviving a point blank gunshot to the head after someone rapes you in the ass. There is also a good chance the bullet will miss you completely. It's hard to shoot a moving target with a handgun. Trust me, I tried once.

I hope I am never in a situation where a firearm is in my face, but if I am, I hope the person holding said firearm just wants my money. I also hope I don't shit myself. Actually, come to think of it, shitting myself might be the best course of action. The guy would probably leave me alone, because when I take a dump, everyone within a three-house radius knows about it. Also, if the gun-pointer intended on butt-raping me, he sure as hell wouldn't want to anymore, and he sure as hell wouldn't want me getting into his car. Unless of course he was one of those poop fetishists. Then I would be screwed.

But I digress.

Now, I don't know anything about law enforcement, robbing people, guns, hand-to-hand combat, or kidnapping, so I'm not really in a position to be giving advice about such things. But reading the story was very eye-opening, because I never really considered what to do in such situations. You never know when something like that might happen.

Something to think about.

News in brief.

Pokerstars came back today and said they screwed up the iPods. They said I could keep the one I got and they would give me $75 or I could exchange it for a Nano and they would give me $75. That is wholly unnecessary for a freeroll tournamount. I will take it, though.

Me: "Oh well, it was free so I can't complain."
Them: "Hey, here is $75."

I have played two multi-table tournaments this year and have gotten $150 in free money. The other was the Partypoker satellite that got cancelled so I just played the next one. They gave me $75 for cancelling and I wasn't even going to complain.

I have decided to Ebay the iPod. I think the Nano will have higher re-sale value as Christmas approaches so I am going to exchange for the Nano and sell it.

---

Dane Cook is hosting Saturday Night Live this week.

I find this somewhat amazing. He landed a SNL hosting gig based on nothing but stand-up comedy. The only stand-ups I can think of (Steve Martin, Jerry Seinfeld, Ray Romano) off the top of my head that have hosted have only done so after lucrative TV or film careers.

Yes, I know he co-starred with Dennis Rodman in Simon Sez six years ago. No, that's not a lucrative film career.

I am not as big a Dane Cook fan as I used to be since he became a rock star of sorts, but I am thrilled that he was able to accomplish this without becoming an unfunny sitcom star.

With that in mind, let's hope this Brian Regan sitcom deal never comes to pass.

---

Last night I played in my co-ed touch football league. We snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. Up by 7 with 1:30 to go and we have a first down. They intercepted, drove for a touchdown in about three plays, and converted the two-point. Oh well.

I wanted to play a little QB, but we have a guy who usually plays quarterback full-time and I didn't want to say anything. So I didn't play any QB, but I took over one huddle and called a play. The center would snap the ball to me, Scott would go long down the sideline and hook to the middle, I would pitch the ball to the QB in the backfield, and he would hit Scott with the long pass.

It was executed flawlessly for the touchdown. I am an awesome play caller and Scott is an awesome pass catcher.

---

I just turned my free $75 on Pokerstars into $317 playing 2-4 and 3-6 6-max. That was the first time I have ever played there. The players are incredibly weak-tight. In one hand five people saw a flop. I was on the button and it got checked around to me. I bet with nothing and everyone folded.

You don't see that on Partypoker.

---

Xbox 360's were just released and are selling for over $1,500 on Ebay. I decided it wasn't worth it to wait in line all night in the cold and call in late to work. Maybe I was wrong. I didn't think they would sell for more than $800 and there was no guarantee I would actually get one. I didn't think it was worth $400 (or possibly nothing) in profit to wait all night in the cold. But $1,100 (or possibly nothing)? Yeah.

On a dumb side note, people are actually selling just the BOX for the Xbox and they are going for over $500. Seriously, click the link. The guy dressed it up to look like he is selling an Xbox, but, and I quote:

This is the PREMIUM BUNDLE Box. It would include bonus accessories, if it were the actual PREMIUM XBOX 360! DOES NOT Come with 20GB Hard Drive, Console, HD Cables, Wireless Controller, Headset! Great for gags! DO NOT bid if you don't intend to buy!

God, people are dumb. Read the auction, people. If this were real life the seller would have serious problems after the sale. But this isn't real life, this is the 'net, and he clearly states what he is selling.

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I got e-vited to this party at a bar. Please read (names have not been changed):

Hello Everyone,

Please join Andrea (25), Courtney (26), Lauren (26) and Chris (23) in celebrating their December birthdays. Often forgotten during the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, they are making damn sure that everyone remembers this year with a party at Duffy's.
$25 from 8-11 pm buys you all call drinks, domestic and imported beers, wine and soda. Although if you are drinking soda then you were accidentally placed on this list, so sorry.

Hope to see you there!

For some reason the last sentence about soda offended me. I immediately couldn't figure out why I was offended, because it was just a dumb joke. It seemed incredibly stupid and juvenile, though.

Some people don't drink. Some because they just don't want to, others because they are recovering alcoholics. It's kind of like saying: "If you don't drink, you are an uptight loser."

In my mind, it's along the same lines as: "If you are a gay homo, don't come because we don't approve of butt-sex or vaginas rubbing up against other vaginas."

It's funny, because I'm not easily offended.

---

I just took a giant turd.

Have a nice day, please.

Today.

I didn't go to work today. This is the first time in about a year that I have taken a day off work to just hang out at home. Lots of exciting stuff happened.

I began by sitting on my butt from 9AM to 12PM. This is pretty much what I do at work from 9AM to 12PM, but instead of sitting at a desk playing internet I was sitting on a couch playing poker and watching TV. It's nice to do something different once in a while.

Then I took my car to take its emissions test. I was supposed to do it about six months ago. I got a threatening letter saying they were going to suspend my registration if I didn't do it. So I went and did it.

Emissions tests in this state are free. That's something I don't get. It's required by law to have it done, so why not charge something for it? It probably costs a ton of money to run one of those testing places. I'm not going to complain, though, seeing as I have to pay $80 for registration and $60 for that stupid city sticker.

The test didn't take very long. I passed it (got a 65).

I stopped at a gas station on the way home for a Diet Pepsi because I am addicted to that shit. I went up to the counter to pay and a lady came in and scanned her lottery tickets under this little scanner. I have never seen such a device. I would think checking the numbers against the published winning numbers would be an easy enough task that a person would not need a machine to do it for them. I would have thought wrong, though. I also didn't take into consideration that it would be a pain for someone to check $50 worth of lotto tickets.

So the lady scanned her tickets and the display read "not a winner." She grimaced, like she was planning on winning or something. Maybe I should start buying lottery tickets so I can scan them and then grimace when the thing says "not a winner." Who knows, it might be fun.

My cup of pop cost $1.09. It was good.

I got home and sat on my butt for another two hours.

Then the UPS guy came. It was my Poker Blogger Championship iPod. Except it's not an iPod nano. It's just a regular 20GB iPod. Damn, I was really looking forward to shoving 1,000 songs up my ass.

I don't know if I should be pissed or not. On one of the registration forms I clicked "I accept" on, it probably said somewhere that it was okay for Pokerstars to substitute a "similar prize of equal value." It does hold a lot more music, in fact, I can fit my entire CD collection on there, but it is a lot bigger in physical size as well. It was free so I can't complain.

I hope the ten people that won the new Xbox don't get sent the old Xbox. I don't know why Pokerstars advertised iPod nanos if they didn't have them in their possession. They could have just said "iPods".

Anyway, it's sitting over there on the couch still sealed in it's shinkwrap. I can't decide if I should keep it or Ebay it . I have never had a desire to own an iPod and I don't know if I would actually use it. Also, I don't want to take it out of its box because then it won't be MISB. If you don't know what MISB is, then you need to get your ass to Ebay, because you clearly aren't spending enough time there.

I'll let you know if I decide to open it or let it sit there in its box.

That's all.

Boobs.

Life is good.

I re-read yesterday’s post. I sounded like a whiny little bitch complaining about a bad beat after flopping a straight with 6-3 off and losing to someone holding KK hitting a runner-runner full house. Maybe that comparison doesn’t apply completely but you know what I mean.

Basically, I have no business complaining, because…

- Everything I have ever wanted or needed has been handed to me.
- I have a decent job that’s not too stressful.
- I get paid a decent wage and get health insurance.
- My commute is 25 minutes and doesn’t involve driving.
- I have a girlfriend that loves me and we own a nice place in a nice neighborhood.
- We have a sweet 1995 Ford Taurus so we can drive places.
- My legs, arms, and eyeballs are all fully functional.

Those are the positive things I can think of right now, and I guess my life is pretty damn good. Sometimes I step back, though, and realize how boring and monotonous it is, how I’m not passionate about my profession and wish I was doing something else.

I’m where I am because that’s where I choose to be. If I don’t like anything I can change it. But that takes effort. It’s easier just to stay in the same place and accept things the way they are. If there is one thing I’m good at, it’s accepting things the way they are.

I think that’s why I (and a lot of other people) became so obsessed with poker. It provided some kind of fantasy escape, because it doesn’t take a lot of effort to sit at a computer and imagine that one day I would be a rich-ass poker pro. Therefore, it would be unnecessary to change my job situation or anything else, because pretty soon I would make a lot of money from poker and that would make everything super-duper. Roflmao.

When I was 12 I fantasized about playing basketball for the Suns and actually thought it was possible. Poker provides a new, unrealistic dream that I can think is possible. I have undergone somewhat of a reality check during the past month or so, accepting that poker isn't going to save me. Life is good and I can't complain, but this isn't exactly how I pictured things ending up. It's up to me to change it. If I don't, that's my choice and no one else's.

I'm not going to quit playing poker, though.

I have a job.

The boss is on vacation.

I spent 15 hours at work yesterday. I was there 13 hours the day before. My life always becomes a living hell when she is gone. It seems she never takes a day off, but whenever she does, it's for an entire week. During these rare week vacations I have to absorb all of the punches that she normally takes. I have a large, disgusting project I have to do every month and it was due yesterday, plus I have people from four different continents calling about stuff.

Some guy in Europe: "There was a €2 billion variance in RWA credit risk last month."
Me: "Wow."
Some guy in Europe: "Do you know why?"
Me: "You guys use Euros over there, huh? We use dollars over here, so clearly, there is no way I can possibly help you, what with these goofy, ever-changing exchange rates and all."

Monday I had to meet with some guy from Mexico regarding the reporting structure of the Mexican entities (I don't know what that means either). He happened to be in town for a training seminar, and wanted to meet with me and the boss. Typically in these situations, I sit silently and nod. Her absence meant I would have to talk. It went something like this:

Mexican guy: "Can we re-align the business units to facilitate the reconciliation with global Hyperion?"
Me: "No hablo español."

Having do deal with these people on top of all of the net surfing and "work" I have to do completely blows. That, coupled with the fact that I couldn't possibly give a shit about global reporting for Hyperglobalmegacorp. And yet, I still show up everyday and they still pay me.

Last week a guy in my group got fired for not showing up and not calling. He is an alcoholic and I guess he has had issues before. I think this single incident was just their excuse to can him. I never saw any problems and wouldn't have known he was an alcoholic if someone hadn't told me. I thought he was decent at his job and we are stretched thin enough as it is, but that's the way it goes, I guess.

I feel bad for the guy, but part of me is jealous. He gets to move on to the next stage of his life. I feel stuck here. Sure, I could leave and do something else, but there is no way I could find something that pays me as much as Hyperglobalmegacorp does. At least not right away. So that's what keeps me here...the mortgage, car insurance, the need to eat, and the awesome "special assessment" we have to pay on our condo because some stairwells in the building need replacing.

I need money, so I will continue to come in and sit here every day.

It's lunchtime. I think I will go to Potbelly's.

Party and stuff.

Our party was on Saturday.

I had to go out for some last minute items during the day. We needed smoked salmon, limes, cucumbers, and French bread. I made the mistake of going to Sam's Club for these items.

When I got there I looked around for a basket to hold the four things I was buying. I didn't need a cart. It seems they don't have baskets, because obviously no one shopping at Sam's Club would need anything less than an aircraft carrier-sized cart to carry their items. All they have are said carts and flatbed trailers. I opted for the cart. I retrieved the four items I needed. I felt stupid pushing them around in my giant cart. I got in line to pay and spent 30 minutes behind 6 people who were stocking up for the winter. The lady in front of me had 4 cases of Spam. I didn't know people actually ate that stuff. Who knows, maybe she wasn't planning on eating it.

I managed to get the hell out of there without purchasing anything unnecessary. Like 4 cases of Spam.

Ubaldo and Mrs. Ubaldo made the drive down and got to our place at about 5PM. We cracked open some Woodchucks and poured some white Russians. I was looking forward to some drunken idiocy and having to make several apologetic phone calls on Sunday. The last time this happened was almost a year ago. I got drunk at the Christmas party at work and then went to meet Scott for his birthday party at a bar. Then I licked Scott's face and told Scott's roommate that Scott and I wanted to give him blowjobs.**

I was looking forward to more of the same.

People started trickling in at about 8PM. People started trickling out at 10:45.

Lame.

I did not get drunk. No one got drunk. I didn't need to make any phone calls the next day. The highlight of my evening were all the compliments I got on my weenies in a blanket (that's what I made with the cocktail weenies I got at Sam's Club two weeks ago).

Ms. Brick spent most of the evening making sure the food trays were full. She said she had more fun planning the party than being there.

We had smoked salmon on cucumbers, shrimp, cheese fondue, chocolate fondue, meatballs, the weenies I spoke of earlier, and some chicken things one of Diane's friends made. Next time I think we should just have chips & salsa and cheese & crackers, so the Ms. and I can spend more time getting plastered and less time on food maintenance. Of course, then the party won't be as fun to plan.

I don't know if that will make a difference, though. People would still probably leave at 10:45. I guess that's what happens as one approaches 30. They become lamer and lamer until the metamorposis into "adult" is complete. All we need now is 2.5 children.

I refuse to accept the fact that I am an adult that doesn't get drunk and goes to bed before 12AM. Remember in college when 1:15AM was early? That wasn't that long ago.

Scott is having a birthday party at the same bar as last year in a few weeks. The bar will be what is known as "open" and I will not have to do any food preparation. I plan on getting trashed, licking a few people, philosophizing about things I know nothing about, and having to make phone calls the next day.

A couple of weeks after that our friend Sarah is having her annual Christmas party. At the same party four years ago I got hammered, broke a wine glass, dumped wine on the floor, and offered to throw a party for one of Scott's grad school friends after they got back from Christmas break. Good times.

Times change, though. Sigh.

---

The day after the party Scott, Ubaldo, Alex, Matt, myself and others played a football game in the park. Unfortunately, we were all well rested and no one was hung over.

I played a little quarterback. Check out the following stat line:

11 comp, 0 inc, ? yd, 8 TD

That's right. Eight touchdowns. I counted 'em. I had, like, 60 fantasy points. I think my QB rating was about 327.4. The reason I had so few passes is that most of the drives I led consisted of one pass. The only blemish on my record was when Scott intercepted one of my throws. It got called back for holding, though, so that didn't count. I did not call the holding. Who the hell calls holding in a 4 on 4 football game in the park, anyway?

You might also like to know that I intercepted one of Scott's passes and the team I was on beat the team Scott was on. Also, I suck on defense and get burned like a little bitch. Hey, I'm the star QB, not a defensive specialist, what do want from me?

It was fun.

---

** More on the story from the last time I got drunk... Ms. Brick and I got wasted at work before we got to Scott's party. While I was licking people and offering to perform fellatio, she was in the bathroom puking. The only thing I ordered while we were there was a Diet Coke. I forgot about it and left without paying. A couple of days later Otto mentioned to Scott that "an extra Diet Coke" showed up on his bar tab.

Good ol' Otto. Hey, Otto? I'm really sorry about that extra $1.50. I'm glad to see you were able to make ends meet that month.

I'm a division manager.

A lot of people find this site by using the "next blog" feature. I was checking Statcounter and looking at the list of blogs people have linked through to get here. I picked one randomly and began reading.

In this post the blogger rants about how he hates those ribbon magnets people have on their cars proclaiming their stance on certain issues like the war and breast cancer (I, for one, am opposed to breast cancer).

I read the following:

Does it say one thing if you drive a BMW SUV and not have one of these ribbons? What does it mean if you drive a 1990 Dodge Stratus and have a pink breast cancer magnet near your gas tank?

And my immediate reaction was: "The Dodge Stratus wasn't produced in 1990, in fact the first model year was 1995."

A normal person shouldn't know this.

On a related note, I am seriously considering making my next automobile purchase a Dodge Stratus, just so I can yell:

"I DRIVE A DODGE STRATUS!"

I have problems.

Sports Guy vs. Scotty Win

Sports Guy crossed the line in his "More Cowbell" column yesterday.

You can see the article here.

If you don't want to read it, basically he makes excuses as to why the Colts beat the Patriots on Monday Night Football.

Scotty Win and I love Sports Guy (I even wrote a post declaring my love for the guy, and gave him his own link over there on the right), but Scotty is all about the Colts, and Sports Guy is a rabid Patriots fan. There is nothing wrong with extreme Patriotism, and the level at which he supports his favorite NFL team is understandable, but his bias went too far.

Here is an excerpt from the article:

Sure, the Patriots ended up converting that first down and eventually scoring seven. But Belichick's message was clear: We need all the points we can get; our defense can't stop these guys. And they couldn't. Forty points and a gazillion first downs later, Manning was smiling on the sidelines, his teammates were pretending they liked him, ABC was rolling their fake MasterCard commercial and the fans were pouring out of Gillette Stadium. The torch, for all intents and purposes, had been passed. After four arduous years, various rule changes to help their passing game, and a cream-puff schedule highlighted by a fortuitous bye before last night's game, the Colts (and the NFL) finally got their wish. There was a new alpha dog in the AFC.

Yes, Sports Guy, it's all a scheduling and rule-changing conspiracy to keep the Patriots down and the Colts up.

Now, when you bash the Colts, you bash Scotty. And what do you get when you bash Scotty? A biting, yet respectful, well thought-out response, which I have pasted below. I fear that's Scott message may get lost in the sea of e-mails that Sports Guy receives, but Scott has mad research and writing skills and I want to share them with all four of my readers. So here you go...

Dear Sports Guy,

I love your column, but this time your Patriots bias
(can we call it “Patriotism”?) went too far. I could
tell from your pre-MNF column that you had all your
bases covered. If the Patriots won, you could again
proclaim them as the NFL’s almighty, and you and the
Mastermind could rail on about their constant
disrespect. If the Colts won, you could justify it by
bringing out the tired excuses about rules changes and
easy scheduling.

In response to the Colts’ supposedly easy schedule,
let’s take a close look at it compared to the Pats’.
First, you shouldn’t consider division games, because
those happen every year, and you shouldn’t consider
2005 winning percentages, since the season obviously
hadn’t happened yet when the schedule was put
together. If you take out division games, the Colts’
opponents’ winning percentage in 2004 was .544,
compared to the Pats’ opponents’ .575. Besides being
small to the naked eye, this difference is not
statistically significant (and I know I’ll get made
fun of for this): based on inferential statistics, if
you compare the two averages, a difference of that
magnitude could happen due to chance alone 77% of the
time. In other words, if you just drew opponents out
of a hat for the Colts and Pats, getting a difference
that big (or small) would happen three-fourths of the
time – not quite conspiracy-worthy.

Besides their own division games, each team plays all
the teams of one NFC division – again out of the
league’s control. Is it the Colts’ fault that they
play the weak NFC West and the Patriots have to play
the NFC South? Now taking out own-division and NFC
games, the schedule-makers can seemingly only freely
choose 6 opponents for each team. Colts’ opponents:
Ravens (.562), Browns (.250), Patriots (.875), Bengals
(.500), Steelers (.938), and Chargers (.750). Pats’
opponents: Raiders (.312), Steelers, Chargers, Broncos
(.625), Colts (.750), Chiefs (.438). Colts’ opponents’
’04 winning percentage: .646. Patriots: .636. Again,
not a significant difference, and definitely not
conspiracy-worthy.

The one scheduling disparity you do have a point on is
that the Colts have had the easier schedule so far –
but look at their remaining non-divisional opponents
(Saints, Chiefs, Bucs) compared to the Colts (Bengals,
Steelers, Chargers, Seahawks, Cardinals). This one’s a
toss-up in my opinion – would you rather play the
worse teams first (and risk a second-half slide) or
play the worse teams last (and build playoff
momentum)?

And what is it with you and Peyton Manning? Granted,
the Peyton Manning face definitely is funny (although
Belichick and Brady certainly were making their own
faces during the 2nd half Monday night), but why the
personal attacks on him? His teammates “pretended to
like him”? He has been an admired and respected leader
of that team since he got there. I have never heard
anything to the contrary from local or national press
(besides you). And your boy Tom Brady (and now his
5-layers-of-protection offensive line) aren’t exactly
disrespected, underappreciated, overlooked, or
whatever else New England has been complaining about
for years.

Granted, nothing counts until the playoffs. I agree
that that Patriots winning three Super Bowls in four
years is a huge achievement, and they should be lauded
for it. And maybe you and New England have had good
reasons for those chips on your shoulders the past few
years, with the Colts getting so much individual
glory. But if Indy does win it all, give them some
credit, like you did with the White Sox after they
beat your Sox this fall.

Scotty Win

Take that, Sports Guy! You have just felt the full wrath of Scotty Win. Statistical data and all. Deal with that.

I hope someone on the receiving end of Scott's e-mail reads it, even if it's just an ESPN.com intern or something, because it's just too good to be ignored.

Keep up the good work, Scott.

Lull.

I feel as though the blog has been sucking for the past week or so (if you feel otherwise please please let me know, and if you agree, please let me know). I have resisted writing about this but can't put it off any more. I actually got out of bed at 2AM to write this. I haven't really had anything meaningful to write about so I wrote about the cockroach in the dishwasher, regurgitated an old e-mail I wrote to Scott, and deep-fried pizza? What the hell was that? I almost called the "White russians & cockroaches" post "Tuesday filler," because that's what it was. I'm forcing shit out here. I'm constipated. Maybe I should take some blog laxatives and put out a quality post.

I wrote a while ago that I felt pressure to write a funny story every day, but I would only write when I wanted to, not because I felt obligated to. Well, that hasn't been the case. I still feel like I need to put something out every day or else I'm letting people down. I should be doing this for myself, but then I find myself thinking: "Fuck, I need to post some stuff tomorrow." That's where it stops being for me and the crappy content comes in.

Maybe I'm being too hard on myself, but I'm really not too proud of my recent writings.

I would much rather put up one quality post a week instead of four or five mediocre ones, but I'm worried that if I don't post frequently people will stop coming back. Of course, shitty content will cause people to stop coming back, too. I have gotten lots of positive feedback about this blog, and I really appreciate it and makes me feel good, but it also adds to the pressure when someone says: "I'm freaking hooked on your blog," because I want to keep them hooked. I know this pressure is completely self-imposed and unnecessary, and I should write when I feel like it.

I know my best stuff comes when an idea pops in my head without having to think about it and just start writing, like the "Lunch" post. I thought that one was pretty good and it just came to me and took no effort at all. I wish that could happen every day, but it just doesn't, and so you end up with "Deep-fried pizza."

Hopefully I will resist the urge to force mediocre posts, and only write when something moves me to do so, but please don't be disappointed if you don't see any new stuff for a few days.

Tonight Ms. Brick told me: "You're a really good writer and I really enjoy your blog. I think it helps me get to know you better."

That makes it worth it.

Adventures in sink replacement.

I mentioned in an earlier post that our bathroom sink was cracked and needed to be replaced. I worked most of the weekend on the damn thing.

This is something that we have needed to do for over a year. I know nothing about plumbing so I would be learning as I went.

We have a pedestal sink like the one below:



The sink rests on the pedestal and is attached to the wall with two brackets and two anchor screws so it doesn't wobble.

I went to Home Depot and purchased what looked like the exact same sink. I knew it wasn't exactly the same but didn't think it was that big of deal.

I closed the valves on the source pipes and detached the hoses that link them to the sink knobs. I removed the anchor screws. I pulled the pedestal out from the wall a little bit, detached the drain from the drain pipe, and pulled out the sink.

Lots of water was dripping. Lots of paper towels were used.

I went to work removing the faucet and drain-thingie from the old sink and put them in the new sink. Now I know how that lever thing that lifts and closes the drain works. Cool. It's really hard to use a wrench and pliers while simultaneously holding a 30 lb. porcelain bowl in your lap, but I did just fine.

I got the faucet and drain-thingie successfully installed into the new sink and Ms. Brick helped me mount it back on the wall.

Nope.

The brackets were too high so the sink was just kind of hovering over the pedestal, and the holes for the anchor screws didn't line up. Now I would have to re-mount the brackets an inch lower and drill new holes in the wall for the anchor screws. Damn, this wouldn't be as easy as I thought.

We took the sink off the wall and I measured and started drilling the holes. I got the first bracket mounted but I think drilling through tile dulled the bit a lot. Drilling for the second bracket was more difficult. I was pressing hard on the drill and snapped the bit.

Back to Home Depot for drill bits!

I bought three of the size I needed. I got Dewalt titaniums. This is not the first case of a drill bit snapping in our house. There is half a bit embedded in one of our window frames from when I was installing blinds.

I got the second bracket mounted, drilled new holes for the anchor screws, and went to install the sink. Everything was fine except...the drain in the new sink didn't line up with the drain pipe, because the drain in the new sink was about an inch closer to the wall. There was no way for me to connect it. This was a problem that could not be remedied without custom, expensive, plumbing work.

I left the new sink and played poker for five hours.

The next day we decided that the new sink wouldn't work and we should try to find the exact same model of the old sink. In the meantime we would need a sink. This meant putting the old one back.

So I took the new sink off the wall, and moved the faucet and drain-thingie back to the old sink. I re-mounted the brackets back to their original location. I put the old sink back, hooked up all the hoses and the drain pipe, and inserted the anchor screws. It would seem everything was back to normal.

But...

The drain was now leaking onto the floor underneath the sink. It would seem I didn't tighten the drain-thingie properly. The position of the pedestal makes it impossible to tighten it while the sink is mounted.

So I removed the anchor screws, unhooked the hoses and drain, and removed the sink once again. Please keep in mind that every time I do this water drips every where. I took the drain attachment off, wiped off the water, and very carefully and deliberately tightened it back on.

Now we have a bathroom sink that's cracked and needs to be replaced.

I was a bit saddened at the amount of joy I felt at this moment, seeing as I could have had the exact same result and done nothing.

Such is life sometimes.

At least now I know how to install faucets and drain-thingies.

Sometimes I play poker.

I had an entry to the PartyPoker Million semi-finals that I needed to use and they were held this past weekend.

I first signed up for the one on Thursday night. But for some reason it was cancelled and everyone got their money back (or, in my case, a free entry). I have no clue what the problem was because they use the exact same software for all multi-table tournaments and they had weeks to prepare. Whatever. No big deal. I was pissed, though, because I had planned on doing it that night and made sure I was home and all that.

So I played the one on Sunday. I came in 224 out of 885 and didn't win anything. I maintain that I don't know anything about large no-limit tournaments.

But then I got a surprise. I got a note from Party saying that "We regret any inconvenience...blah blah...cancelled tournament...words...we have credited your account with $75." Awesome. Props to Party for that. So I decided to throw caution to the wind and buy in to the biggest game I could with it and lose it. In this case, 5-10. I ran it up to a few hundred and kept moving up limits. I got it up to $1,700 playing 15-30 and then got it down to $500 playing 15-30 and cashed out.

Hey, that's like $500 for free. My plan was to basically just lose the $75, so I can't complain, even though it could have been $1,700. I can't believe how awful the 15-30 players are. But that's a dead horse that I will not beat any furthur.

Sorry for the poker post.

I am going to spend the $500 on prostitutes and Night Train.

Deep-fried pizza.

Yesterday's post got me thinking...

Why the hell can't I get deep-fried pizza?

We deep-fry everything else in this country...onions, cheese, broccoli, ice cream, cheeseburgers, bacon...why not pizza? It seems as if someone would have attempted this by now, because this country has a gigantic fat ass and loves fried food, so why haven't I seen it on a menu?

Others have pondered this before me, and found out the same thing: pizza is, in fact, deep-fried, just not in the U S of A. Apparently it is the national dish of Scotland. I thought it was haggis. Nope.

I should have known. After all, the Scots pioneered deep-fried Mars bars. They also have more heart attacks than any other nation in Europe.

I want some deep-fried pizza.

I guess I could try making it at home, but then it wouldn't be Scottish.

And if it's not Scottish it's crap.

Eating pizza at the gym with naked dudes.

I went to the gym yesterday.

That's right, I'm still going. It was pizza day at work, so I had to work that shit off. Pizza day is not cool. Usually I would be in full support of free pizza, but not when in the process of trying to lose 20 pounds. Do recovering alcoholics have to deal with "Beer day"?

Let's say Bob is an alcoholic who hasn't had a drink for a month and can't stop once he starts drinking. He doesn't have to deal with this:

Other guy: "Hey, Bob, we ordered beer for lunch, come grab some."
Bob: "No thanks."
Other guy: "What's wrong, don't like beer?"
Bob: "Sure, I like beer, I'm just trying to cut down."
Other guy: "C'mon, just have a few."
Bob: "Okay, maybe just one." (drinks a beer)
Bob: "Okay, maybe just 27."

It's the exact same thing with the damn cake.

I was actually proud of myself for limiting my pizza intake as much as I did. A typical pizza day for me goes something like this:

Me: "Can you hand me that sausage one?"
Other guy: "You want a piece of sausage?"
Me: "No, the whole pizza."
Me: "No, I won't be sharing."

And it's not thin crust either. It's that deep-dish stuffed crap where each piece has like a pound of cheese. How long before we just start deep-frying the damn pizza?

So I went to the gym.

The gym I go to is in a rich neighborhood and is sort of expensive. I would never pay normal price to that place. Ms. Brick and I get a really good deal because we live together and we're "students." Apparently showing a student ID when you join gets you the student rate for eternity and no sign-up fee. I won't complain. The machines are really nice and each treadmill has its own TV. You wouldn't think so, but it's really hard to watch a basketball game while running 6.3 miles an hour.

I took the train straight to the gym from work. I went to the locker room to change and there seemed to be a much higher percentage of naked old guys than usual. It seems the older and fatter guys get, the more they like being naked around other men. I do not get naked at the gym. I do not enjoy being naked around other men. I leave my underwear on when I change into my workout clothes. I do not shower at the gym. I leave my gym clothes on when I leave and shower at home.

I try to avert my eyes as best I can when confronted with a large number of unclothed males. I found myself wondering what it would be like if I was gay and surrounded by old, naked, fat guys. That would probably be similar to being not gay and surrounded by old, naked, fat ladies. That would be way worse. Sorry, gay dudes.

I changed and got the hell out of the locker room as fast I could.

I looked around and it seemed most of the people at my gym are yuppie liberal college kids who think they are changing the world but are really only spending their parents' money and listening to their ipods. That's right, I was able to deduce all that just from physical appearance.

That got me wondering...where are all the old fat guys? The locker room is full of them. Do they just join the gym so they can get naked and hang out in the locker room with other naked guys? Do they get to gym, get naked in the locker room, stand around for a while, get dressed and go home? Someone needs to do a study on this.

I was pondering this for the rest of my workout. I looked around and was only able to find two old guys working out. I finished up and heading back to the locker room to grab my stuff.

I saw no less than five old naked guys.

Blogging with Scotty Win.

Way back in the summer of 2005 this blog started as an extended e-mail exchange between myself and Scotty Win. Ms. Brick was not interested in hearing about my poker playing, so I started e-mailing Scott to let him know how I was doing and I sent him some hand histories and stuff. I would put "today's poker blog" in the subject line because that's what it felt like. Eventually, we started writing about other stuff like pretzels and butt sex. Ms. Brick started to get jealous so I began copying her. Scott let me know I was bringing joy to his life and that he was forwarding my e-mails on to other people so that I might bring joy to their lives as well. So the blog began. And here we are.

I have included below one of our favorite exchanges from last summer, along with some background info. I hope you enjoy it...

---

Scott's second girlfriend broke up with him in early 2004 because she is stupid. Trust me, it doesn't get any better than Scott. He is six feet tall, nice-looking, athletic, almost has a Ph.D., has never done illicit drugs, will give you a ride to the airport if you ask nicely, and owns a 9-inch cock. His only downfall is he is too nice and understanding. But I digress.

In mid-2004, much like he did when his first girlfriend dumped him in 1998, Scott went out hunting for women. Also, like in 1998, he began developing unnecessary crushes on certain females.

There were these two girls, Nicole and Emily, on one of his co-ed sports leagues. I met Nicole first, and it was blatantly obvious that she wanted him. That didn't concern Scott. She seemed okay, but was kind of nerdy, though. Scott decided he wanted Emily. He assured me that she was grade A material.

So I meet Emily for the first time. She and Nicole came to one of the home poker games at the Brick household. She was not grade A material. She was not that good looking. She was somewhat immature. She was annoying. In Scott's defense, she was not bad looking, and she had a really nice body. However, any positive qualities were quickly negated as she and Nicole sat next to each other giggling like junior high kids while text-messaging each other on their cell phones. I didn't know humans existed that actually text-messaged. If I have to write a text-message longer than 2 letters do me a favor and shoot me in the face. That shit takes more patience than a 2-4 game on Partypoker. These chicks were pros at it, though.

They were not invited back.

"That's the girl you like? Holy shit, dude, look harder," was the general feeling among our friends.

Luckily, Scott made it completely obvious that he liked her, so he didn't have a chance in hell, even though he was (and still is) way out of Emily's league. If a girl knows you like her, you have no chance. Everyone except Scott knows this. But, his failure in this endeavor was very fortunate for him, as he met Ms. Scott shortly thereafter.

Predictably, though, this caused Emily to change her feelings. The following e-mail exchange took place. Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Scott wrote:

Hey, below is an excerpt from Emily (that girl I used to like). What would Chris Rock have to say about this?

"...I am so confused because I like you. The last couple of games especially! I am starting to more and more and wanted to tell you this. I feel as if I should apologize because I don't want to confuse you or interfere with your relationship with Ms. Scott. I am really sorry but I am just being honest. I just had to tell you I am sorry and I hope you understand this..."

I replied:

"Hey, how you doing? Me and Nicole were thinking about having a dick-sucking contest, and we thought you'd be a good judge."

I don't know what Chris Rock would say, but I am not surprised by that one bit. No girl is going to like if you make it completely obvious that you like her (as you did in this situation) regardless of how hot you are (which you are, just check out "Scotty Win" under "Big City University" under "USA" at ratemyprofessor.com, jeez.)

I mean,where's the fun in going out with a dude that you know likes you? BUT, the second she realized her failure to reciprocate didn't really bother you and you went out with someone else, well... now she can't have you, and she realizes she could have had this smokin' hot buff dude with a 9-inch cock.

Now that you're somewhat off-limits and you're not really interested anymore, you've become incredibly attractive. You know what would really make her obsessed with you? If you have sex with her and never call her back and treat her like shit. Yup.

Anyhoo, I say just let it go, and say something to the effect of "oh well, you had your chance" in a nice kind of joking way if you feel a response is completely necessary. Of course this will only make her want you more. If this is the case feel free to get some cheap lovin', keeping in mind that any cheap lovin' will be damaging to any possibilities with Ms. Scott, regardless of where your relationship "officially" stands.

Anyway, do what you want, but be prepared to deal with the consequences, like no more Ms. Scott, AIDS, and a psycho-stalker named Emily killing your pet rabbit.

Okay, probably not the last two.

After that e-mail Scott assured me that I owed the world a blog.

He and Ms. Scott are living happily ever after.